#like to their marriage. so i'm inclined to think it's because i remind him of his mom

[burger-goblin]

.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[just-j-really]

Unsoulmates part four (a new hope)

Masterpost

Hob texts Morpheus two days after he and Audrey break up, because he's got two tickets to a ballet and absolutely no use for them anymore. He'd offered them to Gwen, first, but her girlfriend (her soulmate, actually, her soulmate she'd met at a Ren Faire in a moment out of a fairytale, complete with a kiss-print soulmark on the back of her hand) has even less interest in ballet than Hob does. And he knows bringing it up to any of his other friends will only get him concerned questions about why he keeps doing this to himself, wouldn't he be happier if he stopped actively avoiding his One True Love.

So offering them to Morpheus, who hasn't spoken to him in a month but probably won't do that, is the best option by default.

Shockingly, Morpheus replies. He even offers to meet Hob at the White Horse, a pub they'd frequented back when they were still sort of talking, to pick up the tickets.

Even more shockingly, Morpheus is already at a table when Hob arrives at the pub four nights later, like he's planning to sit and talk with Hob. Like before.

Hob is not entirely sure how he feels about that, but he's also running on maybe three hours of sleep, and the chair next to Morpheus looks extremely inviting, so he lets himself topple into it.

"If you ask me how I'm doing I'm going to get up and leave," he warns Morpheus, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. He might just take a nap here. It's been impossible to fall asleep, these past few days, without the warmth of someone else in bed with him. And it's so easy, lying there with the tangible reminder of how alone he is, to let his thoughts spiral into why didn't she stay why didn't she even consider it wasn't it worth it?

But here, with the warmth and the noise of people around him and this unbelievably comfortable armchair, an uneasy half-doze starts to overtake him. He's drifting, wondering where in the world Morpheus found an armchair, when a soft tapping noise drags him back to reality.

When he opens his eyes, Morpheus is sliding a beer across the table to him. He doesn't say anything, just looks at Hob levelly, and Hob thinks that's why, why he opens his mouth to say thanks, what comes out instead is a cracking, "Do you know what it's like, having people congratulate you for having your heart ripped out?"

His voice sounds even worse than he feels.

Morpheus inclines his head at Hob in that familiar little nod; go on, I'm listening.

It's a small kindness, but it still makes Hob feel like his chest is cracking in half.

"Everyone acts like it's fine. Like it's a good thing. 'Yeah it hurts now but at least you'll stop wasting your life, at least now you'll find the person you were meant for.'"

He takes a breath. Takes a drink. "Nevermind that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

And then the whole story is spilling out of him, in an out-of-order slurry: the moment it happened- Audrey gesturing wildly as they ducked through the concert crowd, hand in hand; her stunned little gasp as her arm bumped another emphatic gesture-er; they way he'd stood there, confused, still holding Audrey's hand, while she and her soulmate stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The way she'd yes-anded even his stupidest bits, the way they'd had their own shared language of in-jokes, the way conversations with her were a dance and she always knew the next step.

The way, within a week, she'd scrubbed herself out of his life entirely, like she needed to fake her death to start her new life with The One.

"And- and I knew marriage wasn't happening, right?" he finds himself saying, some time and several drinks later. "Fuckin nobody marries their not-soulmate, which is STUPID. It's so stupid, remind me to tell you how stupid it is. But I thought. I thought we- I thought there was something. Something good. I thought maybe we could last."

The sentence gets much too wobbly at the end, and Hob swipes a hand roughly over his eyes.

"What did you want, then?" Morpheus asks.

Hob glares at him.

"If not marriage," Morpheus says, as though clarity were the problem there. He seems... sincere, though. Like he's actually asking the question, not trying to nudge Hob into an epiphany about the futility of his life goals. Hob's heard the second thing enough to know what it sounds like. And Morpheus has that- look, on his face. The Hob-is-an-insect look, but not. It's... it's like if that look were kinder, more genuine. More vulnerable.

So for what may be the first time, when asked that question, Hob actually considers his answer before responding. "I dunno what I wanted," he says. "I just want- I want someone to choose me. Not have me forced on them."

Morpheus stares at him. Studies him. As though the secret of life itself has somehow been hidden in Hob's face.

Hob stares back, pinned. Entranced. A little confused.

"You know," he says, after a moment, "I'm not actually a bug."

Morpheus sighs. "Come on," he says, "Let's get you home."

Despite Hob's insistence that he is fine, really, just a little tipsy and a lot heartsick and sleep deprived, Morpheus does walk him home.

Hob only remembers the tickets when they reach his building, and only then someone had stuck a sticker of a dancer to the back of a lamppost. "Here," he says, rooting around in his jacket pocket until he finds the envelope, and handing it over, "At least someone will get use out of them."

Morpheus stares at the envelope like he's never seen one before.

When he looks up at Hob, his eyes are glistening with tears. "Are you," he asks, quietly. He pauses for a long time, long enough that Hob starts to wonder if he'd handed over the wrong envelope, and then wonder what deeply tragic envelopes he could possibly have been carrying around.

"Are you going to look for your soulmate now?" Morpheus asks. His voice is as even, almost soothing, as ever.

He's looking at Hob as though the wrong answer will be his death sentence.

"Are you kidding me?" Hob asks. Despite everything, he finds himself grinning. "Never. The love of my life is out there, somewhere, I'm not going to discount them for something stupid like soulmates."

Morpheus smiles.

Truly smiles, for the first time that Hob has seen. It's a lovely expression, soft, hesitant, but so genuinely, contagiously delighted. And Hob knows, with the same bone-deep certainty as his disbelief in soulmates, that he'd protect that smile at all costs.

"Also," he says, because there's not much protection he can offer right not but there is always the shining, thrilling possibility of coaxing another smile out of Morpheus tonight, "I'm starving. Do you want to get dinner?"

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Just want to say, I really love your yandere family! They all seem so sweet lajdkal

Ah! Thank you! I'm so glad!

I've been meaning to make more content for them

So here's a little something

🖤🖤🖤

How Sweet They Are | Yandere Family

Remalda

To Everyone else: Is as sweet as she needs to be. How can she be anything other than that when she’s going for mayor? But what’s underneath the sweet smiles and friendly disposition is a spiteful woman with a violent string of thoughts.

“Miss Remalda! If you weren’t married I’d propose to you!”

“Awww that’s so sweet! But I’m very happy in my marriage!”

‘If you had found me 14 years earlier I would have skinned you for even thinking you could replace my love with yourself. Disgusting Pig!’

To You: She’s sweeter than sugar. Anything you ask for you can have even if it comes with detriment to someone else. She just can’t resist it when you look up at her with those adorable (e/c) eyes. It's just too much! Too perfect! That’s her beloved baby alright!

“Awww you reached so nicely for it, you can have all the cake you want!”

“Mom! They can’t even digest solid food!”

“But they asked so adorably how can i refuse?*Mwah*”

Spencer 

To Everyone else: He’s as cordial as he needs to be. He’s been keeping people at a distance for quite a long time so this is nothing new. He doesn’t often waste any time thinking about those he meets or what he can do for them because he’s too busy thinking about his own family. 

“Thank you for your patronage.”

“You’re really pretty for a man in your work!”

“Hmmm.”

‘Did I leave the dishwasher running? If I did (Y/n)’s sippy cup should be in there. That’ll be good. Oh, and Yulia has a skating competition this week…’

He’s so disconnected sometimes he forgets the...consequences that spring from his own actions or lack thereof.

“So darling who was that tramp?”

“What tramp?”

To You: He tries to be as sweet as any parent should be. Your chubby body, your gleeful squeals, and your tiny grip on him–are always reminders to him about how much he cherishes you. He’s aware that Remalda is inclined to spoil you and he doubts that will ever change so he has to take initiative and be the adult. But he didn’t have to worry about it now, not when you were so young and it was normal anyway to act on your whims. You have no other way to communicate so it's okay!

“Baby, be careful waving that toy in the air! You might hit a bird!”

You’ll babble and ultimately end up flinging the toy in the air wacking a bird off its perch.

“Oh s-dear! Okay okay, you can have it back just don’t do that again. Okay?”

Michael 

To Everyone Else: Only if you pay for it. He’s a businessman after all and he doesn’t get the results he does by being “sweet.” He’ll make his peers pay a fee if they want to see his pearly whites and even then it's never the real thing. It’s safe to say he takes after his Mother and Father when it comes to being sweet…it covers his real thoughts that are either completely unrelated or especially violent.

“Geez Michael you could’ve at least acted like you care! I’m paying for the experience, right?”

“You right, I don’t care. But if you want the experience with a friendly disposition you’ll have to pay the fee.” 

“What!? Seriously this is a lot more than I imagined…”

‘Of course I do I need to have enough to support my baby and little sister…I wonder if I would get more if I just stabbed him.’

To You: He’s sweet t in the way that he always holds you with care and reprimands your wrong-doings. While he’s not too different from his father he still feels like it's his duty to ‘properly raise you’. He thinks-no he knows you're the precious baby that needs his loving hand to guide you in this messed up family. And since you're his sweet baby he will be the sweetest to you and Yulia.

“Alright (Y/n)...give me your hand.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n), listen to big brother. Give me your hand.”

He’s trying his hardest to be sweet with you, it's not typically in his nature to choose kindness over violence but he tries. He loves you after all so he’s willing to try anything to see your gummy smile and hear the bells of your laughter.

“Good job, (Y/n). Next, you’ll have to learn to give me one of your toys.”

Yulia

To Everyone Else: Of course, she is sweet to everyone! Why not be? Everyone’s usually so nice to her–always complimenting her ice skating and how good of a big sister she is. Sometimes when she talks to those who know her brother they seemed surprised she is so nice. 

“Huh, Michael? Oh well, he’s quite curt but I wouldn’t say he’s mean.”

So where her beloved brother slips up she carries the weight, hoping to dissuade others from building too much aggression towards him. Because she knows him and he’s the kindest big brother; yes, he may mysteriously be ridding her of any and all problems she speaks about.

“Threatened you? He’s just…doing his own thing. Yeah, sorry about that…”

To You: Yes! Why wouldn’t she?! Her darling baby sibling is just so cute and when Michael’s busy and the parents are fighting+ you always seem to reach out for her. Always seem to remember her. So she gives you kisses and risks her mother’s wrath to sneak into your nursery for a sleepover.

“Come on (Y/n), how about we stay up and I tell you all about everything1”

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about Stolas and Blitz's Relationship

There's a lot of controversy surrounding the healthiness of this relationship and because it's one of my favorite ships, I wanna break things down. Let's pop the top on this and get into it!

So to start, we have to look at how our favorite business imp and hellish prince learned about love. That of course starts waaaayyyyy back when with baby Stolas and Blizo before the 'o' was silent.

As children, neither boy was ever given a look at a healthy love, nor were they shown love in appropriate proportions. With the little we know of their backstories as of now, it seems that both boys got love primarily from their mothers while seeing their fathers there but not present.... In fact, their fathers are both portrayed as caring only about what the boys could do for them or what they represented at any given time rather than just caring about the boys as their children, with Paimon not even remembering his own son's name and needing to ask the imp assigned to care for him, and Buckzo actually selling his son off to virtual strangers for the day in hopes of robbing the royal family. While I haven't gotten a clear sense of what happened to their mothers, it seems that both women were removed from their children's lives somewhat early on; therefore taking the boys main source of love with them. Given the father figures they had, neither Blitz or Stolas were ever shown love from a masculine point of view, so they had to navigate that on their own.

Going into the two having to navigate love on their own because of the lack of love from parental figures, Blitz has attempted to look for love at almost every turn. This most likely would've resulted in a sting of relationships that were purely sexual or a sting of failed relationships, with Verosika probably being his longest lasting relationship.... Stolas on the other hand had his future planned for him and was told from his childhood that his future wife was already picked for him so he could sire a cautionary heir when the time came. While Blitz went from lover to lover looking for something without knowing what exactly that something was, Stolas tried to make the best of a marriage in which he was constantly reminded that he was unloved and abused.

Now, this is where I think it get's interesting. As he languished in a loveless marriage, Stolas was conditioned by his narcissistic wife to neglect his own emotional needs in order to keep up with meeting hers while also attempting to be a present father for Via once she was born. After not having experienced adequate familial love, then being shoved straight into a major relationship with someone who found her joy in abusing him physically, psychologically, and emotionally, Stolas believed he was supposed to be unwanted and unhappy. The love he knew was "I have to love my wife because....", and then the parental love between Via and him; a relationship that has also begun to hit the rocks because of Stolas not having an understanding of love and therefore getting lost in the slightest inkling of it with Blitz.

Blitz on the other hand, turned his need for love into something almost selfish. I believe he's afraid to be left alone, so in his mind, it makes the most sense to not let anyone too close and/or to be the first to run if something seems to feel too real. I'm inclined to believe that that's what happened with his relationship with Verosika Mayday since, as Moxxie says in the hallucinations in "Truth Seekers", Blitz has become a master of pushing those who do truly try to care about him as far away from him as impishly possible. With this self-sabotage, I believe he's trying to give people a reason to deem him unworthy of receiving love so that he actively knows why people leave rather than being left to wonder what he did wrong to make people want to leave him. The only people he truly seems mostly comfortable with are Millie, Moxxie, and Loona. Blitz's relationship with M&M is actually really interesting because the lack of boundaries he seems to have when it comes to them is linked to him wanting the kind of love they share but not understanding how to get it or what to do when he does because he's spent so much of his life alone and on the run from love like he's a wanted man.

So, now, we have two grown ass demons who struggle to express love while simultaneously craving it. Putting the two together seems logical at this point, so it wasn't super shocking that the ship became canon, but because neither man can express love properly, almost every move they make together seems toxic in some way, shape, or form. And the relationship already started out in a bad place, because of the agreement that was made. With the agreement in place the way it is, Stolas is in a position where he's holding a power over Blitz, and he knows this because when the agreement is made he is the one that puts it in place. This already gives off a very harsh dynamic between the two, but then you also have to add the fact that Stolas also feels like he is only being used for his grimoire. So now you have Blitz in a position where he feels that he is essentially no better than a blow up doll, and Stolas who feels like he is no more than a means to an end. If you add in the fact that both of these men are very bad at communicating, it makes things worse because there are no boundaries or limits set in place for either of them so neither man knows exactly where he stands or how far forward or backward he can step without changing the dynamic of the relationship completely, which is what we see in "Ozzie's".

In the episode "Ozzie's", we see stolas unintentionally change the dynamic of their relationship by not standing up for Blitz when Asmodeus and Fizz started going in on him. He didn't do it to be an asshole, he did it in a moment of panic and self-preservation. Growing up Stolas was constantly taught that he had an image to uphold, being a Prince of hell and dating or sleeping with an imp, which is one of the lowest classes of demons that we see, doesn't go with that image. Stolas has been shamed his entire life and made to feel insignificant and small, and always told if he was not upholding the family standard he was essentially worthless to them. Even his wife would go out of her way to publicly humiliate him in front of family or friends or whoever would go to the parties that she would throw, so he already felt very very low on that totem pole before Blitz drew attention to the fact that they were there and had a spotlight quite literally shown directly on them.

The issue is that Blitz sees this change in their dynamic as intentional. Given the agreement that they have, Blitz already feels as if he's no better than a sex toy because essentially that is what he has been to this man. He does not believe that Stolas could actually genuinely love him, not only because he believes he doesn't deserve love but also because he understands the difference in their statuses and how their dynamic came to be, so he feels very used and taken advantage of. Despite the fact that he does genuinely have feelings for the prince, Blitz believes he's only good for a good time, and Stolas has not done very much to combat that because all of his advances seem sexual or at least sexually suggestive. Well the advances being sexually suggested or sexually motivated is not completely the prince's fault, it's never something he takes into consideration to see if there are other ways to express a desire for the imp. When every other sentence coming out of the prince's mouth has to do with going to bed with him, and Blitz is given nicknames like "my impish little play thing", it would be hard for him to see how he was wanted for something more than just his body. As I said before though, Stolas is not entirely to blame for this issue with Blitz. Blitz is the one who spurred the advances on the first time, and he never stopped to correct him as their relationship progressed to know stolas believes it's just what he likes, and he'll continue to believe that until Blitz himself tells him otherwise.

Similarly, Blitz does treat Stolas like he is a means to an end. I don't believe it's intentional, because you can see in a lot of different scenes where they're together that Blitz does truly care for this man, but his original plan was just to manipulate Stolas into letting him use the grimoire so that he could perform his business and their entire agreement hinges on that exact thing. Outside of taking him to Ozzie's, Blitz never does ask Stolas on a date, or spend very much time with him outside of the bedroom, and even in that episode the only reason he does is because he has an ulterior motive. In the episode taking place at Ozzie's, I believe Blitz is so fixated on studying and living vicariously through what Moxxie and Millie have together, that he himself was not present with Stolas on the date he invited him to, and despite the prince's best efforts, he's not able to reel him back in until the spotlight is on them and Stolas has the immediate reaction to hide himself from the spotlight while leaving Blitz essentially naked and alone in that moment. The action was never meant to hurt him, but it told Blitz that he was an embarrassment to the prince. It solidified the idea that Stolas was essentially lying to him when he said that he wanted him..... And upon leaving, Blitz is so hurt that he wants nothing to do with the prince for that time, and despite trying to show Blitz how bad he feels, Stolas never actually verbally apologizes to him. After Blitz drops him off at home, and verbalizes that he's not in the mood to have sex with him and tells him that he understands that all they are is fuck buddies, Stolas invites him in and offers cuddles but when Blitz ultimately declines he just says good night, rather than offering it real apology, further solidifying Blitz's thinking but he is not worth the care that it would have shown to have an apology.

As I said in the beginning, I do think it is genuinely just coming down to the fact that neither of these men were ever shown how to care for or love another. Well it's true that they are both raising daughters, who they love unconditionally, everything that they have done for their children has been something they had to pull out of themselves. And they have never done that for each other. I don't think the relationship needs to end, especially not on the note that it did the last time they were together, but I think they both need to mature a little bit more and start understanding the communication that needs to happen between them in order for their relationship to move beyond just sex and heartache. If both Stolas and Blitz are willing to put in the work, and communicate with each other openly I think they could have a very, very healthy and wonderful relationship, which they both very much deserve after everything they've been through.

I definitely trust the process of the writing, but I would absolutely love to see this ship continue to be a thing and thrive, but story-wise I don't think either character is there quite yet. Both demons in question still have a lot of growing to do, but even if that is the case and that is the way the story goes, I don't believe that this is the end of their story together. I feel like these characters will always be drawn to each other, and whether or not there is a pause in their relationship well they take time to figure out their own goals, I believe that both of these men find home in each other and they will always be drawn to that peace.

[ingravinoveritas]

MY GOODNESS THAT TV INSIDER SNIPPET WHERE YOU CAN SEE THEM MOVE PHYSICALLY CLOSER TO EACH OTHER IN ABOUT 20 SECONDS. UGHHH. DAVID WAS LITERALLY HALF OFF HIS SEAT TO BE CLOSER TO MICHAEL

Hi, Anons! Oh, gosh, I love both of these so much. Putting them together because I think there's a definite connection worth discussing.

So first, Anon #2 I know you must be referring to the new interviews with Michael and David that have come out the past few days (on Screen Rant Plus, Movieweb, etc.). Anon #1 is referring to another clip that just came out today, so I'll put the video up here for anyone who hasn't seen it and then discuss it further down this post:

Anon #2, how beautifully you have phrased your observation, and I could not possibly agree with you more. I've noticed a lot of people saying that Michael and David look sad or miserable, but I don't think that is the case at all. Well, a couple of things: 1) We have no idea when these interviews were recorded, though if I had to guess I'd say within the last month or two, and if that is the case, Michael was still directing/working nonstop on The Way, so that would explain him looking tired (along with running around after two little kids all the time). 2) I'm fairly certain that a large part of them not looking at each other is because they are trying not to give anything away about the second season, and Michael and David both know they won't be able to keep quiet if they make even the tiniest bit of eye contact.

3) I fully agree with your assertion that the lack of staring shows how close Michael and David have become, because to me, it also means that they no longer feel a need to be "on" around each other. They've both spoken in the past about how much they hate doing interviews/photo shoots, and that it became far more bearable when they had each other. That was the case four years ago, and now we've all gone through a global pandemic and some of the darkest times in our lives. That naturally strips away any sense of pretense--seeing someone at their worst, or when they're sick or afraid. I get the feeling that Michael and David have been through all of that and where so many other relationships/marriages fell apart, their relationship is even stronger now as a result. They love and accept each other exactly as they are, and it shows.

Finally, 4) What you said about Michael not staring at David makes my heart ache and seems so true. On the season 1 press tour, he was already in love, but didn't know when they would see each other again. I'm reminded of that one interview where they both suddenly seem to realize the press tour is coming to an end, and they don't know when they'll see each other next:

"Can we just...see each other? For no reason?"

He doesn't even have to ask that question now. Michael doesn't have to keep his eyes on David every moment because he has already memorized his whole face, the stubble on his skin, the softness of his lips. And he knows with perfect certainty that he will never be without David in his life again.

And this all fits in beautifully with the video you've mentioned, Anon #1, because they absolutely do move closer to each other in that video, and not only does it look like they did it completely unconsciously, but David seems to actually mirror Michael:

Michael is the first one to move closer, as we see above, and then right after he does, David moves closer. And again, they're not staring at each other the whole time. nor do they seem to be playing up their "personas"--Michael and David are just being themselves, and their natural inclination is to be close to each other. (Also, Michael's fucking wiggle right after he moves is killing me, because I think he only does that when he's very, very happy...)

Absolutely beautiful. I so appreciate you both sharing your thoughts with me, Anons. Thanks for writing in! xx

[lemonyko0]

Mr. Jeon: Jealousy

“You’ve trained her well.” He says impressed. “Bet she’d do anything you told her.” I nod, looking up at Jungkook. I place my hand on his thigh, “Anything."

» genre: angst! smut, fluff at the absolute very end (unless simping counts in which case, plenty)

» word count: 5.7k

» description: teacher x student, voyeurism, almost cuckold but not really ... just read i can't think of a term for this. two members ;)

Part 3 | Masterpost

jungkook’s pov

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. If only I had any ounce of self control I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. if only i was as smart as i thought myself to be.

My eyes scan over her name in my phone.

How can someone be so trusting?

It’s not even that she doesn't know, she seems not to care at all. Each conversation with her is a testament to that. I’ve spent the entire weekend texting her. Never initiating anything myself, I really ought to remind her of my no spam rule, but i think it to be cute, and necessary, that she's this obsessed.

jk: what if i am just using you?

y/n: i just like having your attention. you can do whatever as long as you don't leave me.

jk: and if i left you?

This leaves her typing for quite some time. I can see she's deleting what she's typing and trying over and over again before she finally sends her response.

y/n: don't warn me. just go and never come back.

y/n: i hate being teased like that.

The conversation flatlines soon after, leaving her on read and not being bothered to continue the conversation. She’s got class early anyway, I'm doing her a favor by at least leaving her be for the night.

My shoes click against the tile floors as I head into the school, pushing past the wooden doors to be met with silent halls.

In silence like this you can't help but wander. ask yourself questions like how you ended up here. I never considered myself to be a very deep individual. In fact, I always believed humans were never as fathomless as they believed themselves to be.

It was simple. I became a teacher because my mother was one, and I loved my mother. I saw the joy it gave her, and I chased after her and her life by following in her footsteps while my elder brother followed in my fathers. my parents had favorites, as all do. you're always inclined to love the things that love you back.

I've never asked myself the question if I was ever, genuinely happy in my decision to teach. and now i feel as if it's an unfair question entirely. What qualifies a person to be happy? I lost my mother after my second year teaching at my university job. I always associated her with teaching. Could I ever truly love something, after losing the very reason I started it?

Once my mother was gone I coped much better than anyone thought I would. i'm not sure what they expected, but the sympathetic stares and dinner invitations went stale very quickly, and I left my job and hometown as soon as I found another, even higher paying, job at a different school.

No one here knows anything about my past. They only know what I tell them, and I’ve enjoyed my time here. The people are kind, they don't pry, they invite each other to drinks, dinners, discuss their marriages, families, the economy, and so on.

One man has always stood out to me. He's young for a teacher, like myself. He must be incredibly smart as everyone praises him and holds him in high regards. The staff refer to him almost constantly when struggling with concepts, the subject never mattered.

He was tall, dark hair, wore glasses, dressed average, never attracted attention to himself, and yet he always had it. He looked at me as if he saw through me. I hated it. And it felt like he knew that, too.

I began to see him more and more as the months went on, until it became almost guaranteed that I'd see him when passing through the foreign language wing.

And today was no exception to that.

“Ah, you again.” He grins widely at the sight of me, coffee in one hand and his leather folder in the other, settled underneath his arm.

I force a grin, “It’s me, again.” I stop in front of him in the hall, “Good morning, namjoon.”

He bows his head slightly, looking at me through the top of his black rimmed glasses with a smirk, “good morning to you too jungkook.”

I clear my throat and sigh, “I suppose we have some things to discuss.”

He lingers purposefully, making me uncomfortable with his silence, and I hate to admit it works. “We do.” He extends an arm into the dark room behind me, “If you don't mind.” I turn on my heels and head into the room, watching him set his things down at his desk before opening the blinds to allow a small amount of light to creep into the room, “I'm quite prone to headaches, I don't so much enjoy unnatural light. i find it too harsh.”

I mentally roll my eyes at his behavior, but keep my composure, simply exhaling as I stare at him, “can we stop with the theatrics and you just tell me what you have in mind?”

He ignores me and continues to stare out the window and play with the blinds, before meandering back towards his desk and sitting down with a laugh, “Pretty bold statement considering you're at my mercy. Your entire reputation as an educator on the line. A little harsh, don't you think?”

I shrug, “I'd simply like to handle this already. I figured if your intention was to ruin me, you'd've made a case already.”

He spins slowly side to side in his seat, twirling a pen around his hand, “Who’s to say I don't have one tucked away in my desk?” he chuckles, “I wouldn't put anything past me.”

“Do you?” I ask.

He hums, “I might.” a smile tugs at his lips and he leans forward on his desk, “Have a seat, please.” he watches me intently as I reluctantly sit in the chair on the other side of his desk. He curls his bottom lip and his brows furrow before opening his mouth, “I can't comprehend why a man like you would entertain a relationship with a student.”

He's practically laughing at me, I suppose he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does, “I’m not in a relationship with her.”

He peaks at my response, “You’re not? What would you say your relationship with her would be labeled as?”

I hold my tongue, racking my brain for any mild way to put this, and fail to find one, “Well you clearly know what we did last week, call that what you may.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, strange how I found out though don't you think? All you'd have to do was close the door. I would have walked right past your room, but you didn't.”

I shrug, “I didn't think things would escalate to that.” Lying straight through my teeth.

He nods, “Well you're lucky I’ve always considered us very similar individuals.”

“What do you mean?”

He smirks, “You think you're doing something original? There’s always one, jungkook.” I sigh, not entertained, I didn't come to be reprimanded for my actions like a child. “You’re playing it wrong, all too dangerously.”

I finally let out the sarcastic laugh I’ve been holding in, “please tell me how to ‘play the game’ correctly.”

“Well for starters, I'd like to say it's normal for a man to feel this way, despite any age gaps. So long as she's over the age of consent of course.”

I wince at the thought, “of course she is.”

“Yes of course, and we as educators see hundreds of people a day, thousands a year, and hardly any of them outside of our wall of profession, be it students or teachers. So the likely chance that someone catches your eye and isn't one of those, is slim. The sad reality is so, the more married to your work, the closer you marry your work.” He chuckles at his own joke. “So all i ask from you is three things.”

I sat up in my seat, “please go on, i haven't got all day.”

He nods, “I can't sit here and tell a grown man what to do, but you cannot be so careless. If you're intent on keeping her around, don't interact with each other while you're at work. It’d be one thing if she was simply a student here and not yours, you could just argue you met in other circumstances. But luckily the semester ends soon, until then you can’t waver the professional line.”

“She already knows this.”

“Good, secondly, on the chance you do get caught, I’ve never known anything about this.”

I laugh, “I figured.”

“I've taken it upon myself to look into your personal life, and I'm not fond of blackmail, but consequences to meet these requirements will result in unfavorable things for you.”

“Mhm, wouldn’t want to jeopardize your spotless record.”

He smiles, “Glad we understand each other, and lastly, I want to talk to her.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You want to talk to her?”I shake my head in disbelief, the hoops he’s making me jump through, “Just the two of you? I’m not sure she’ll agree to that.”

He shrugs and heads towards the door, “I don’t care if you’re there or not, it won’t change anything that I do, whether you’re watching or not.” He gives me a shit-eating grin, acting like this purposefully to get under my skin. I’m not a fool, I know what he’s planning to do.

I go throughout the rest of the day lost in my own thoughts, and when the final bell tolls I slouch back in my seat. “Y/N, can I see you for a second?”

I call out to her as she passes my desk and heads for the door. She looks surprised and turns around, “Yes Mr. Jeon?”

I lean forward on my desk, resting my forearms on it as I look around, waiting for the classroom to clear out before glancing back up at her, “Do you have plans tonight?”

She ticks her head to the side, “No, I don’t.”

I nod and sigh, “Okay good, I have someone that wants to meet you.”

“Who?” She asks, puzzled.

I sigh, unsure how much information I can actually trust her with. If I tell her what I’ve gotten myself into she’ll have no reason to go. It’s solely beneficial to me, and if she isn’t interested in seeing another man then that puts me in the worst possible position.

I grin and look up at her, “It’s a surprise. Wear something cute.”

She nods slowly and takes a step away before stopping, “W-where are we going?”

“I’ll pick you up at the bus stop near your house at 10.”

With the details all sorted to her liking she skips off happily to her last class of the day.

I take one last breath before she opens the car door, sitting down and looking at me with a large grin, “Hi.”

I smile back at her, trying not to show my nervousness, “Hi baby.”

She sits back in her seat and blushes as she clicks her seatbelt on, “Are we going to your house?”

I shake my head, “Our guest decided on the location, it's about a half hour away.”

She hums, “That’s kind of far.”

I nod and begin driving, “I know, do your parents know you’re gone?”

She glances at my side profile then looks out the window, “I don’t know.”

I chuckle, “You don’t know? You still live with them don’t you?” She nods silently, and I rack my brain for any thought or memory of ever having seen or met her parents but to no avail. “Are they away a lot?” She shakes her head, clearly not a fan of talking about this but now I'm interested. “Do they not pay much attention to you?”

She chuckles so quietly I almost miss it over the humming of the engine. “You could say that.”

She stays silent the rest of the ride. I had predicted a relatively interrogative ride to the hotel but our conversation at the beginning had put her in some kind of mood.

A few blocks away and already into the city I try to lighten her mood.

I place my hand on her thigh and she falls out of her trance to stare at me for a moment, but quickly falls back into it.

I mentally sigh, wishing it would have been that easy, “Baby.” I call out to her, she looks to me and responds quietly, “You look very pretty. I think our guest will agree.”

She grins and takes the hand I placed into hers and plays with my fingers, “You think?

I grin, eyes on the road, “I think he’d be an idiot not to.”

“So it's a he?”

I hum, “What do you think about that?”

Her lips tug, “Nervous.”

“Nervous? Why are you nervous?” I tick my head.

“Because you're nervous.”

I glance at her then immediately back to the road, “Don't worry about me. We’ll see when we get there.” I pull into the parking of the familiar hotel. I ought to have predicted he'd choose something more opulent like this. He’s always given me “daddy’s money” vibes. Not that his salary couldn't support this as well.

“Woah is this where we’re going?”

I park the car and nod, “Yes, follow me.”

We walk past the automatic doors in the front, revealing a gold and white interior to the building's monotone exterior. I had gotten a text a few hours earlier of a room number, the lady at the desk only looking up from her book for a moment before turning around in her seat.

The elevator ride was also silent, but I can feel her body heat she’s so close to me.

“Come here.” I extend my arm to her and she latches onto it as the elevator dings and I search for the room.

As soon as I find it I knock on the door. I feel her grip on me tighten and the door opens in front of us to reveal the same man I had talked to earlier that day.

Your POV

“Ah, hello y/n.” a man grins at me, ignoring jungkook and extending his hand outwards towards me. “I'm Namjoon, or Mr.Kim.”

I looked from him to Jungkook, and he nods to me so I let my hand become engulfed in his. I don't step away from Jungkook for a second as we enter the hotel room. I have a weird gut feeling but I also have faith that Jungkook would never put me in danger. I’d do anything for him, and if this is a test I know I’ll pass.

Namjoon walks to a table by the window where a glass jar of liquor sits and some shot glasses, “Jungkook?” he offers.

He laughs, sitting us both on a large bed in the center of the room, “You first.”

He smiles at him, “You’re sharper than I thought.” He downs a shot, refills it then hands it to Jungkook as he pours another.

Namjoon then stands with the glass in his hand and meanders towards me, sitting beside me and leaning rather close, to a point where I could smell the cologne. I don't know what scent that is, but it smells like he’s got money.

“Would you like to try it, dear?”

I stare at him and Jungkook speaks up from behind me, “Only do it if you want to, baby.”

Namjoon glances at him with hooded eyes then back to me with a small grin, “Of course, you should never do anything you don't want to.”

I gulp and let go of Jungkook’s arm, taking the small glass with two hands before drinking it.

My face immediately winces like I had eaten an entire lemon and I stick my tongue out. “bleh.”

They both chuckle at my reaction, “First time?” someone asks and I nod, never having drank before.

It settles on my tongue and I find the aftertaste quite nice. “That's not that bad actually.” I say but a displeased expression is still present on my face.

“Here.” Namjoon hands me a water. “Drink this after, as a chaser.”

I untwist the bottle and take a sip, “Is that what you call what you drink after alcohol?”

He grins, “Yes it is, you are a quick learner aren’t you.” I smile up at him and he leans closer, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear and staring at my lips.

This reeks of trouble, but I know Jungkook is beside me. Surely we wouldn't be here if he wasn't in on whatever is happening, right?

Worried nonetheless I pull back and turn to look at him, who’s already staring at me with an unamused face. “W-what's going on?” I ask him.

“Don't be so dense, baby. I think Namjoon is interested in teaching you as well.”

My eyes widen and I grab onto him, “But y-you’re okay with this? Do you want me to do this?”

He grins, “Why would I bring you here if I wasn't? Do what you want baby.”

“I want you.” I insist. I don’t so much care for the other guy. Unless I’m explicitly told to entertain him, I’m not interested, and frankly a little embarrassed.

He stares at me speechlessly, then looks towards Namjoon. “You’ve trained her well.” He says impressed. “Bet she’d do anything you told her.”

I nod, looking up at Jungkook. I place my hand on his thigh, “Anything!”

He bites his lip before speaking to me again, “Even if I told you to let him have you?”

I frown at him, more confused than anything, he told me only a few days ago I was not to have boyfriends or let anyone else touch me, and now he's asking me to do exactly that? “W-why-”

“No why. It's a yes or no question, y/n. Would you?”

I nod determined, “Yes, i-if that's what you want.”

“It is. Now stop staring at me.” He rises from the bed and walks over to the liquor, pouring himself a shot and taking it before sitting in a seat in the corner of the room.

Namjoon crawls in front of me, “Just like he said gorgeous, look at me.” I do as told, committing to the idea that this is what he wants and I want it too.

“W-what are we going to do?” I ask him, still feeling my knowledge on the topic of intimacy is still growing.

He smiles, leaning in so close his nose almost touches mine, “Whatever you'll let me.” He closes the gap and presses his lips onto mine, leaning me downwards until my head hits the pillows. He licks at my lips and a hand comes up to my jaw, massaging it and I knowingly let my mouth fall open and he kisses me with tongue.

I can't remember doing this before, and he grins as if it's obvious, “So cute.”

My cheeks heat all the same, and he kisses me more feverently, his large hands sliding everywhere on my body until one slides into the top of my dress and over my boob, lightly pinching my nipple and causing my back to arch into him.

"Baby likes that huh?” I look at him, my lip gloss reflecting on his lips as well and I hum.“Where else do you like being touched, kitten?”

The nickname confuses me but I answer him the same I’d answer Jungkook. I grab his other hand as he continues to flick at my nub with the other, and lead it down to my very lower stomach, “h-here feels good too.”

He sucks at the skin on my neck rather harshly than Jungkook does and I wince. “This part?” He asks, his hand applying pressure where I put him but that wasn't right.

I shake my head, “no.”

He smiles and bites at my ear, “Then, where?”

I whimper and push his hand further down to my naughty bits, “h-here.”

He hums and adjusts his hand directly over my good spot, pressing his fingers up and down my underwear, “Right here, you said?”

I moan and my body squirms, “y-yeah there.”

He persists, focusing on my chest and his other hand moving up and down until he pauses, removing both hands and pulling my dress up to my waist, completely revealing my lower half.

“Lift your hips baby.” He grabs onto my underwear and takes them off. He then turns to Jungkook, amusedly sat twirling liquid around in a glass, and hands him the garment, “here, it's yours, really.”

He looks up at him sharply, and ignores his gesture. Namjoon chuckles, “Your loss.” He then turns back to me, both hands on either of my knees as he widens my legs, “Wonder why he’s so upset?” He dips his head down between my thighs and my brows furrow, until I feel what must be his tongue. Licking multiple stripes before a finger flicks at the super sensitive part of me in a pattern.The feeling both new and overwhelming has me gasping and the bedsheets crumpling beneath my hands. “Oh f-fuck!”

“What is it baby?” He laughs, quickly resuming.

“F-feels really good.”

He leans his head against my thigh, “Has Jungkook never done this for you?”

I shake my head, glancing at him whose eyes haven't left us, “N-no.”

He grins, “Well that's okay, not every man can do this. Only the good ones.”

I whimper as he continues to touch me, “h-he’s really good.”

“Is he?” I nod, choking on my words. He smirks, “Ask him to try then. You can tell us who's better.”

I look over at Jungkook who’s now sitting on the edge of his seat. “Jungkookie?” I call out to him, “C-can you? Please?”

He twitches in his seat, “You don't seem to need my help baby. She's easy, she’ll come just like this if you let her.”

Namjoon laps at my area rather viciously and I moan out as he pulls back and chuckles, “Yeah, I can tell. Such a sensitive girl.” He coos, pushing a finger in lightly at my entrance and I try to push back the noises in my throat but I fail miserably. “Oh you like that, don't you?” He pushes a finger in all the way and begins to pump it in and out of me, lightly curling his finger.

I shake my head vigorously, “y-yeah, Jungkook taught me.”

He adds a finger and moves faster, “Did he? Did you come on his fingers?”

I nod again, “Y-yes, fuck.” My back arches and it's as if he predicted it, I feel the familiar tightening and burning sensation in my lower stomach, like I’m gonna pee.

He pulls his hand away completely and laughs at me, “Can't have you finishing that easily, can we? It’ll ruin the fun.”

I pout. “I-i was close, please-”

“Why would I let you finish when you’ve barely touched me? Doesn't seem fair does it y/n?”

I shake my head, “No. That's not fair.”

He grins, sliding his bottoms off and completely exposing himself to me. “So baby, what can you do?”

I stare at his dick, very different from Jungkook’s. I guess it never occurred to me they wouldn't all be the same. He's definitely longer but not larger, if that makes sense. “I-i can use my mouth, or my…”

I gesture at the area he left unfinished and he grins, “Do you know that word?”

I shake my head, “Only the medical term, i guess.”

He grins, “Your pussy?”

I wince, not liking that word, and he laughs, “don't like that word?” I shake my head. “Well, you can decide if you'd rather use that or your mouth.”

I'm unsure of the right choice here. Jungkook always tells me what he wants. “What do you want?” I ask him, scooting closer.

He smiles and grips the bottom of my dress, “arms up.” He slides the fabric off of me easily, leaving me completely bare in front of him. He ogled my chest before answering, “Why don't you ride me?”

“Ride, you?”

He nods, leaning against the bed frame and stroking his member with his own hand, “Haven't done that either?” He laughs, “Must be a pretty shit teacher to skip all the fun parts.”

I ignore his comment to Jungkook and simply ask, “H-how do I do that?”

“Come here, like you're going to sit in my lap but don't sit yet.”

I do as told, uncomfortably hovering above his hand that's holding his dick, “okay, now-”

“Now replace my hand.” I do as best I can. “Now sit on it, put it inside you baby.”

I look him in the eyes and he nods, encouraging me to do it. I cautiously sink onto his length, only getting what seems to be a third of the way until it begins to burn a little, then halfway I had to stop. “Ow, fuck.”

He massages my back and hums, “It's alright baby, take your time, you're doing well.”

I slowly sink more and more, my legs growing quickly tired until I collapse down and shove himself in the rest of the way and I cry out.

He moans in my ear and grabs at my ass. “God baby, so fucking tight aren't you?”

“Hurts.” I pout.

He chuckles, “A lot of girls would kill to sleep with a guy like me, you’ll learn to like it. Pain feels good doesn't it baby?”

I take some breaths and it starts to feel much better, I nod my head and he chuckles, “Lean into me, let me help.”

I do as told and he begins to push in and out of me, thrusting harshly but keeping most of himself inside of me. I can feel myself growing hotter, feeling how deep inside of me he reaches and rubs against my walls.

I whimper and bite at his neck as a distraction but this seems to encourage him, thrusting harder and faster and I yelp.

He groans and halts suddenly, flipping us around to where I’m on my back and he’s between my legs, “Fuck if this is how you feel now I can't imagine how you felt your first time.”

I don't know what he means but he doesn't give me any time to ponder his words as he fucks into me aggressively.

I mumble incoherent things as he groans beside my ear, “Gripping onto me so tight, so fucking wet too, just like a whore, got another man watching me fuck you and everything.” He whispers and chuckles, “Tell me, is he watching you get fucked?”

I force my eyes open for a moment and glance at where Jungkook is, staring off at the ground. “N-no.” I mewl.

He growls, “Can’t stand to see it can he? His baby with another guys dick in her?” He laughs, “I know I’d be pissed.”

He continues to thrust into me, one arm balancing himself and the other reaches down to my sensitive area. He begins to rub and flick at it and my back arches as I moan loud.

He cusses in response to my walls tightening erratically, before he moans loudly and stills inside of me. “Fuck.”

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out, and aiming his member towards me as he paints my face and stomach white.

It surprises me and I close my eyes until I feel him lay next to me.

I slowly open them back up and glance around, Jungkook looks away as soon as my eyes meet his, and Namjoon rests beside me with his eyes closed and an arm across his forehead.

He's the first to speak, “Don't you know what to do?”

I shake my head and he chuckles, “Well I’d tell you but I’m not your teacher.” He stands and begins redressing himself. He walks to the bathroom for a moment and fixes his hair before digging into his pockets for a card. “I have the room until 11am tomorrow, do with it what you will.” He grins and tosses it at Jungkook before walking out of the room.

The entire thing happens too fast for me to catch up and it leaves me puzzled.

I look at Jungkook who’s still avoiding eye contact. “Jungkook?” He hums. “What do I do?”

He sighs, “Either grab a wet towel or take a shower.”

I nod and slide off the bed and head into the bathroom. I look around, only a hand towel was out so I grab that, wet it and begin to wipe the white substance off of me.

Once I think I have it all I head back out and stand in front of Jungkook, covering myself best I could, “d-did I get it all?”

His eyes slide over me darkly, looking me up and down before settling on my face, “missed a spot, on your cheek.”

I turn around and wipe at my cheek, “did i get it?”

He nods, and I continue to stand there. “What are you waiting for? Get dressed.”

I frown, “b-but, I’m not finished.”

He looks at me confused, “Not finished?”

I shake my head, “n-need you to touch me.”

He exhales and chuckles, “You didn't get to finish did you baby?”

I pout, “No, didn't let me.”

“Aw.” He coos, getting up from his seat. “Talked all that shit and he left you unfinished? Not much of a man after all, I guess.”

I agree and let him back me up to the bed. “w-will you, please?”

He grins down at me, “I can't say no to your begging, y/n.”

I smile and pull the back of his neck in for a kiss, which he only lets me have for a moment, “Face the bed.” I frown, wanting to kiss him more but I do as I’m told, “Get on it, stay on your knees and put your elbows on the bed.”

The position is weird to me but exposes me perfectly to him. What I can't see is the large grin across his face.

“So pretty baby, do you know how pretty you are?”

I hum contently and feel his slick tongue against my folds. “Still wet too, but not as wet as I get you.”

I shake my head, “You’re much better. He was too mean, too hard.”

He coos, circling a finger against my hole, “At least now you know what other men are like. He’s the epitome of every guy your age.”

“What do you me-” I’m cut off by two of his fingers sliding in at a delicious angle, and pulling them back out slowly, scissoring them before dipping them back in. “God Jungkook.”

He smiles as he watches me, “No one can worship you like me baby. They can't make you feel this good.”

I nod, “F-feel so good.”

He hums, picking up the pace, “I’m sure it does baby.”

It doesn't take but a minute more of his work until the feeling comes back, and he notices the way I tighten around his fingers so he adds a third and his tongue.

“Fuck Jungkook.” I whimper. “T-too much too much.”

“You can take it baby, let it go.”

Only a few seconds more of his relentless actions and I’m cumming against him, hard.

My body easily falls limp and I curl myself up in the sheets, feeling exhausted and worn out.

Jungkook disappears into the bathroom for a few moments, then he reappears beside me, towel in hand as he uncovers my lower half and wipes at my area. I whine and try to move him away, “let me y/n.” I snuggle into his leg and relent, allowing him to touch me until he stops, “I have your clothes, do you want to put them back on?”

I shake my head, not wanting to move another muscle until I at least get a good nap in.

Jungkook begins to stand again but I tug on his arm, “Stay with me, please.”

He sighs, “Let me take you home baby.”

“Why? So I can be alone again?” I snap at him, feeling emotional and tired. “I'm so fucking tired of being left.” I whisper, muffled against the pillows.

He pauses for a moment before walking away. I sigh, letting my body go limp against the bed. I shouldn't have put that onto him, or let myself think he has any reason to stay.

The lights shut off and he shuffles back into the bed beside me, not settling until he hands me something, “put this on please, you’ll get cold like that.”

It registers in my tired brain that he's handing me his shirt, and I look over at him, shirtless and barely in view due to the dark room. The only light from the barely covered window’s city lights, and I feel as if I’m about to burst into tears.

“a-are we staying here?”

He nods, also seeming rather tired, “Yes baby, all night.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek and I turn my back to him, wiping it away before sliding the shirt on.

I let myself fall back onto the bed, he pulls me close, his chest pressed against my back and he inhales my strawberry shampoo. “Thank you.”

I hum, “why are you thanking me? I really should be thanking you, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “You don't deserve anything happening to you. Including me.

I chuckle, “I know.”

He exhales, “I don't mean it like that, baby. I mean you're better than all of this.”

I let a silence settle around us. My brain runs circles around the question I know I shouldn't ask. “I want to say something but I’m afraid it'll scare you.”

He pulls me closer, “You couldn't scare me if you tried.”

I smile, “Do you think we could've had a real shot, if we had met under different circumstances?”

He pauses, “I do.” He kisses my shoulder and mumbled something about how I should go to sleep, but I was already halfway there, and soon after I am comfortably curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest above the city lights. and for once I feel wanted.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hi babes. Phew. I didn't think I'd have to specify this as it's clearly listed just about everywhere but my account is no exception to the rule that if you're interacting with my nsfw posts and you are a minor you will be immediately removed. Now it is impossible for me to monitor this perfectly, but please for my sake and yours, please be considerate of my boundaries and rules. If you continue, you run the risk of being blocked from any of my content. Please don't make me do that!

Also: If you're going to request a taglist, FILL OUT THE FORM IN MY MASTERLIST. my notifs are off, i don't check comments consistently, it's the easiest way. however, i'm missing half the people that requested because i couldn't find the username submitted, so you either didn't submit your actual user or i got it wrong bc you commented. if you think this is you, dm me or resubmit!

Sigh. Debating to give this story more depth or just leave it as smut. Anyway hope u enjoyed, check out my other stuff, yada yada masterlist yeah. Thank you for reading and have a peaceful day! - ara <3

masterlist | taglist

tag list: @marvelahsobx @jeonpendejo @carzjeon @jayunu @coldfoxkid @whipwhoops @marcoswhore @isab3lita @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @heronstairsxd

[godsofhumanity]

I loved the latest hera hc you posted and you said you will write pure Zeus x hera hc if requested, please please write one, I am loving your hc series please please please🥺

hii thanks so much for the support!! i've gotten two asks for Zeus x Hera, and frankly i have a bit to write, so i'm going to split this into TWO PARTS-- this set will be Zeus x Hera: before marriage, and the next ask i answer will be during marriage.

here ya go, PART I (largely Zeus' perspective):

so i guess i should probably start off by explaining one of the previous hc's i've already written before which is that i don't think Zeus and Hera saw each other and it was love at first sight.

i think Hera emerged from Kronos' stomach, and like her other eaten siblings, was a bit reserved... a bit tense. it's hard to suddenly assimilate into a world that you literally just popped into.

i do like the idea that all of Zeus' siblings were quite awkward at first- i mean, they look grown up but they don't have "grown up" experiences. not immediately-- it takes time.

so i think they all just kinda stood with each other. Hera and Demeter, i think, are especially close. they bond with Metis, Hesione, and Asteria particularly- they have a sort of "girls club".

i do think Leto may have flitted in and out of this group, her main link being that Asteria was her elder sister... but i think she has a bit of a rougher, wilder side. ((i'm talking about Leto here because she's relevant to my Zeus x Hera hc's btw))

but throughout this whole period, i think Zeus and Hera are strictly siblings. friends. nothing more, nothing less. i think Hera would find Zeus quite cocky. Zeus i think would respect Hera's fierceness but that's it. also, during this time, i do believe that Zeus was fully devoted to Metis-- i mean, they were supposed to be the end goal, the king and queen of Olympus.

UNTIL. Metis dies. and that's a tragic accident that really breaks Zeus into a million tiny irreparable parts. or so he thinks.

i think after Metis, Zeus keeps his distance from EVERYONE. he can only see Kronos' terror when he sees his own reflection and that scares him. so he thinks it'd be best to isolate. never get attached.

and that works for a long time until Leto, who i think has always been close to Zeus, starts becoming more than a friend. she's sort of the only one who's been there with Zeus right from Metis' time. and so Zeus falls in love again. but i do think it's short lived, because there's a part of Zeus that just can't let go of the thing he did to Metis. and to his unborn daughter.

i think somewhere throughout all of this, Zeus and Hera and all their siblings actually start growing closer. a lot closer. they start functioning like a proper family and all of a sudden, it seems like they've all known each other right from the start. i think this is important because part of the reason why Kronos fails is because he starts thinking that everything depends on HIM... he stops trusting his family. so Zeus intends to avoid that mindset by knowing his family better so he'll be less inclined to "give up" on them.

truthfully, i think right from the start, Zeus and Hera have gotten along like a house on fire. even before their courtship... they were "attuned"... they knew each other's thoughts in one glance. they have similar fighting styles-- i think in their youth, Zeus and Hera would team up against Hades and Demeter against Hestia and Poseidon-- that's how they practiced.

no one recognises the blossoming romance between Zeus and Hera more than Rhea i think. and that worries her. in the myths, Zeus and Hera have a secret relationship because Rhea disapproved of it, and i think it's because she thought Zeus wasn't ready for it. because Zeus and Hera were so in sync it reminded her so much of herself and Kronos and she didn't want a repeat. so i think Rhea might've encouraged Zeus and Leto to be together; maybe she thought they'd end differently.

but i hc Leto to have prophetic abilities like her mother Phoebe (hence how Apollo has them too), and so i think Leto sees the future. not clearly. not all of it. but she does see very clearly that there is a woman by Zeus' side as his Queen and it isn't her. i don't believe that Hera and Leto have ever been especially close, and i do think it would have broken Leto's heart into a million pieces to learn that it wasn't her fate to be with Zeus because i do think she loved him completely; i think he was her end goal but she wasn't his... but i think even feeling all of this, she knew that that was Hera's destiny, so she tells Zeus.

i think while Zeus and Leto are together, he's already started seeing Hera in a different light, and he feels guilty about it until Leto tells him that she really is the one. and i think Leto's the one to call things off with Zeus.

and so Zeus finally lets go and pursues Hera. and that doesn't go smoothly at ALL-- compared to all the other goddesses Zeus has chased, Hera takes "playing hard to get" to a new level. but Zeus tries. he tries and he tries and he tries because he does love Hera.

from Hera's perspective, Hera never planned to like Zeus back. when he first start courting her i think she would have been incredibly bored of him... she'd have thought him to be superficial and that he'd leave her after a week, so she'd have just ignored him.

i don't think that Hera knows why Leto left Zeus. everyone thinks Zeus just bored or scared of commitment and ran away- no one knows the truth besides Zeus and Leto. so that wouldn't have helped Zeus' case.

y'know how in fiction (and actually in reality too lol i've seen it too many times), the guy the girl says "i'll never like him" ends up being the guy she gets with? that's Zeus x Hera in a nutshell.

now i have more, but this post has become lengthy i think, so i will stop there and post PART II later today.

edit: part ii here

[jdaydreamer3]

When I Fall in Love (It Will be Forever)

I don’t have an official title for this little scene that I’ve had written for years. It’s saved on my computer as Sabrina AU because it’s based on the movie of the same title - both of them - the classic starring Audrey Hepburn and the later remake in the 1990′s. I was hoping to develop it into a full story, as I love the idea of Myka growing up with Helena and Charles and then seeing how their relationship evolves as adults, but as with all of my works in progress, I haven’t had the time and/or inclination to work on it. But, I still like these scenes and thought even if I never write the full story, it’s worth sharing, especially today when we’re celebrating 13 years of Bering & Wells. Thank you to this fandom - you’ve meant so much to me over these years. 

The summer evening is warm, the breeze coming off the ocean offering a refreshing coolness to the air as Helena unconsciously sways to the melody of the music as she watches the dancers make good use of the wooden dance floor installed on the lawn only the day before. It will be removed before the dawn, but the impression left on the lawn will linger for weeks.

“Who is the woman Charles has been dancing with most of the night?" Mrs. Wells asks her daughter.

"That's Myka."

"Myka? Myka Bering as in the chauffeur's daughter?" she asks.

"The very same."

"She certainly grew up,” Mrs. Wells says, her tone bordering on incredulous.

"Yes, didn't she," Helena says softly.

"Well, I'll not have your brother making a fool of himself, nor me, for the chauffeur's daughter. Not when he's engaged to marry Giselle Banks and we're about to close a deal with her family. You have to put an end to this...this dalliance, Helena."

“Mother, they’re just dancing,” she argues half-heartedly.

“When has Charles ever stopped at just dancing?”

Helena sighs. Her mother has a point. “How exactly do you expect me to end their dalliance, as you call it?"

"Find a way. And do it quickly," Mrs. Wells says after Charles pulls Myka closer to him, whispering something against her ear that causes her to throw her head back in laughter.

Helena glances away from the intimate moment between them and purses her lips to keep from commenting further, to ask why she always must clean up after the messes Charles makes. Before she wishes, her gaze is drawn back to them, and she watches her brother leave the dance floor to go to the bar and then notices Myka walk in the direction of the indoor tennis courts. Charles always was so predictable regarding the end of the evening tete a tete at these parties.

She approaches her brother at the bar where he is pilfering a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses.

"Charles, may I have a word with you?" Helena asks stepping to his side.

"Not now, Helena, I'm engaged elsewhere."

"It will only take a few moments."

"It can't wait until morning?"

"I think you mean afternoon given your habit to sleep in until noon after these parties."

“Fine, afternoon then."

"No, it can't wait. Mother wants to speak with you now."

Charles means to protest but he knows the look currently on his sister's face is one not to be trifled with. "Alright, if I must," he says following her, glasses slipped into his back pockets and bottle under his arm.

The noise of the party fades away when they step into their mother's office.

"Charles Wells, just what exactly do you think you are doing with that woman?" Mrs. Wells accuses as soon as he enters.

"What woman?" he feigns innocence.

"What woman! Myka, the chauffeur's daughter, that's who!"

"Oh, Mother, it's just a party. We were only dancing together."

"Need I remind you that you are engaged to be married to Giselle Banks? Whose parents are at this party tonight and watched you dance with a woman who is not their daughter!"

"It was just dancing," he repeats.

"Charles, you know that we are in the middle of a very large deal with the Banks family, one that could hinge on your impending marriage," Mrs. Wells tells him.

"Well did anyone ask me how I felt about that? I didn't even propose marriage. The minute I brought Giselle to dinner it seemed that my fate was sealed."

"Now this is coming out!"

"Would anyone listen to me before?" he argues.

Helena can see the tension between her mother and brother quickly escalating. "Now both of you just calm down before either of you say something you will regret. Mother, sit down," she says guiding her to a chair. She turns to her brother then. "Charles, sit down too."

"No, I don't want to sit down, Myka is expecting me. I've already been away longer than I should."

"Oh, Myka," Mrs. Wells huffs, shaking her head.

"Charles, sit down," Helena repeats, "so that we can discuss the situation like the rational adults we all pretend to be, please."

Charles resists as long as he can but realizing he's fighting a losing battle succumbs to the request. And instantly regrets the decision. The crack of glass breaking is quickly overshadowed by the yelp of pain Charles emits.

Mrs. Wells is instantly on her feet. "What is it - what happened?" she cries.

"Glasses," Charles squeaks out, already beginning to sweat with pain.

"Glasses? What does that mean?"

"Champagne glasses...in my back pockets..." he pants out.

"What in heavens?" she asks perplexed. "What were they doing in your pocket?"

"Can we discuss the details later? I'm in a fair bit of pain now," he says biting his knuckles.

Helena rolls her eyes. "Mother, call his doctor," she instructs calmly.

"Yes, of course," she says scurrying to do so.

Helena grabs a cushion from another chair. "Here, sit on this."

"Myka! I left her waiting for me at the tennis court. You have to go to her, explain that I can't make it. But you know, maybe not delve into the details," he says biting his lip.

"Very well. You take it easy," Helena says stepping aside for the doctor, who happened to be partaking in the delights of the party, rushing into the room. Helena only hopes he's sober enough to actually help her brother.

"Helena, are you going to Myka?" Mrs. Wells asks.

"Yes, Charles doesn't want her to be left waiting."

"Good. See if you can't also diffuse the situation your brother has landed us in, yes?"

"How much are you willing to pay, Mother, for her discretion?"

"Whatever you think is a reasonable amount. I trust you to take care of the situation.”

Helena nods, ready to get away from her family for the moment, even knowing what they both ask her to do.

She exits the office and quickly finds herself immersed in the party. It's getting late but it doesn't seem to be winding down much, their guests still happy to be drinking and dancing - some of them at the same time with varying results as she notices one man trip from the dance floor into the hydrangeas.

She makes her way to the bar, acquiring a fresh bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. Not having any pockets on her gown, she must make do with carrying them between her fingers.

It isn't a long walk to the indoor tennis court, but Helena takes her time. Myka is waiting for Charles, not her, and she needs to figure out what to say to the young girl she once knew who has become a beautiful woman. And she also has the little matter of making a deal, as it were, at least as far as her mother is concerned. She sees Myka as a potential problem. Helena feels it is Charles and his roaming eye that is the real problem. Myka has little to do with it.

***

Myka stands inside the indoor tennis court waiting for Charles.  She knows his routine.  He will bring champagne, two glasses fitted in the back pocket of his tuxedo, and he will joke and compliment her as he makes a show of removing the glasses.  They’ll drink, they’ll dance.  He’ll kiss her and if she were any of his other conquests, he will make love to her.  Myka cares a great deal for Charles, but he isn’t the one who makes her heart quicken.

She’d looked for Helena all night among the other dancers.  As Charles swept her across the floor, Myka’s eyes roamed the crowd for a glimpse of the dark-haired beauty, but it was all for naught.  Either Helena wasn’t at the mansion, or she simply wasn’t interested in attending the party – the latter hard to believe given she’d always attended them before.  Finally, Myka had given in to curiosity and asked Charles about her.

“Probably in the study making the latest deal,” he had laughed.  “She’s more work these days than play.  But let’s not waste the night talking of Helena when we can pursue more pleasurable activities,” he said, eyes straying down to the tight bodice of her dress.

It was then that he asked her to meet him in the tennis court in ten minutes, giving him time to acquire the desired champagne.  Myka had acquiesced.  What else was there for her to do?  Mrs. Wells had eyed her crossly the moment she emerged on the dance floor and Myka knew no one else at the party save for Charles.

She trails her hand along the netting, edging towards the large windows to look out, just able to make out a sliver of the ocean waves moving against the moonlight.  Perhaps this was a mistake after all.  She doesn’t belong here.  She is only the chauffeur’s daughter after all, raised above a garage that houses cars worth more than her father makes in a year.  When Charles comes for her, she should make her apologies and return to that little apartment above the garage where she belongs.

“Hello, Myka,” comes a soft voice from behind her.  A definitively female voice – a voice Myka would know anywhere.

She spins around at the sound, taking in the sight of the breathtaking woman before her and can only breathe out one word, “Helena,” in a voice that is both awed and reverent.  For it is Helena whom Myka has longed to see after all this time.  And the sight of her does not disappoint.  Helena is radiant in a black sleeveless gown, its fabric clinging to her slim figure and when she steps towards Myka, a slit parts the fabric to reveal a shapely leg and toned thigh and Myka snaps her eyes up to meet Helena’s once more.

Helena didn’t come empty-handed.  She holds a bottle of champagne in one hand and in the other two flute glasses.  “Charles sends his regrets, but he suffered a minor mishap moments ago and is unable to make it after all.  He sent me in his place to apologize.”

“What happened to him?” Myka asks concerned.

“He sat down on champagne glasses of all things,” the glint in Helena’s eyes remains unobserved by Myka who is struck with guilt.

“Oh my god,” she gasps.  “I’m so sorry.  It’s…it’s all my fault.”

“It isn’t,” Helena assures.  “And it’s nothing too serious.  A doctor is with him now, carefully removing glass from his derriere.  He’ll be laid up in bed for a couple days which is nothing out of the ordinary for him, really.”

Myka still looks troubled.

“But at Charles’ insistence, let’s not let it ruin the rest of the evening.  I believe champagne was on order, yes?” Helena says stepping closer to Myka and hands her the glasses so that she may work on opening the bottle.  She manages to pop the cork and a rush of the bubbly liquid gushes out spilling to the floor, splashing at their feet.  A laugh tumbles from Helena’s lips and it has been years since Myka has heard anything so lovely.

Helena takes a glass from Myka’s hands, her fingertips grazing Myka’s skin in the process and Myka would think it an accident if she didn’t do it again with the second glass.  Helena sets the bottle on the floor at their feet before finally glancing up, dark eyes staring intently at Myka, but Myka can’t decipher what she sees in their depths.

“What shall we drink to?” Helena asks her lightly.  “Longevity?  Success?  Fortune?”

“To homecoming,” Myka interrupts with a whisper.

Helena’s eyes soften at the utterance.  “I can drink to that,” she says raising her glass before tipping it back to take a long swallow.

Myka barely sips at her champagne, the taste foreign on her tongue.  Instead she focuses her attention on the breathtaking woman before her, watching as Helena quickly finishes her drink, setting the glass on the floor beside the bottle.

“Well, Charles left me explicit instructions.  I now believe I owe you a dance, Miss Bering.”  And without another word, Helena is lifting Myka’s glass from her hands to set it on the floor also and then she is turning back to Myka, one arm encircling Myka’s waist, the other reaching for her hand.  And the touch is everything Myka has wanted and not at all.  

Helena isn’t here for her, she’s here for Charles, that’s been made perfectly clear, but Myka can’t let go of her regardless.  Helena’s perfume is soft but the skin of her bare shoulder softer still as Myka’s palm rests against it as Helena sways them to the faint sound of music carrying through the open window on a warm breeze.  Myka wants this, wants Helena so desperately.  She allows Helena to pull her closer in her embrace, feeling the soft press of Helena’s breasts against her own, her eyes flutter closed at the sensation and her fingertips grip Helena’s shoulder a little tighter.

They sway to the low hum of the orchestra playing, “Isn’t it Romantic?” and don’t say a word as the minutes tick by.  Myka breathes in Helena’s sweet scent, feels the way her silky hair tickles her neck as Myka clings a little tighter to her, trying to pull her impossibly closer.  Helena’s hand moves from her waist to splay at her lower back, fingertips grazing lower for one moment before the song comes to an end and Helena is pulling away, the look in her dark eyes unreadable.

The orchestra begins a new song, one Myka recognizes as traditionally the last song played of the night, just before the clock strikes midnight and Cinderella loses her glass slipper. The irony that the song is “When I Fall in Love,” is not lost on her. She spent so many memorable nights of her youth gazing longingly upon the guests of these parties dancing, to this very song, coupling off into the night. And now she is in the arms of Helena Wells.

Helena looks at her for a long moment, eyes searching Myka’s for something Myka can’t begin to decipher and then Helena is leaning forward, and soft lips are brushing against hers in a heady kiss.  And once more, this moment is everything Myka wants and not at all.

Myka pulls away from the kiss, her fingers instinctively reaching to touch her lips, missing the pressure there seconds before and Helena looks at her with eyes wide and sorrowful.

“Just part of Charles’ message, darling,” she husks.  “I realize it isn’t the same without a mustache, but life is full of disappointment.”

Myka has an urge to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into the woman, to make her understand it was never Charles she wanted.  That it has only ever been Helena she wanted – wants even now with anger coursing through her veins brought on by humiliation that she could ever believe someone such as Helena Wells would want her in return.

Instead Myka pulls away from their embrace.

"Helena, why did you really come here now? It wasn't for me."

“We didn’t want to leave you waiting."

“We?” Myka questions, watching Helena glance away, obviously ill at ease.

"I think I understand now,” Myka says, realization dawning. “Your mother sent you to deal with me, didn't she? She thinks I'm some sort of threat between Charles and the woman he's set to marry. Let me guess, your family and her family..."

"Are in negotiations to buy out their company, yes," Helena agrees.

"How much is the deal worth to you?"

"It's worth millions for my family."

Myka laughs bitterly. “Millions, just another drop in the bucket for the Wells empire."

Helena remains silent, allowing Myka to rant.

"Do you really think I'm such a threat?"

"It isn't about what I think. The fact is, Charles has quickly become enamored with you, not that I can blame him, you are quite lovely, Myka. But the fact is, he's engaged to be married to the daughter of a very influential family. A family that has only agreed to our negotiations because with Charles marrying their daughter it will feel like their company is still in family hands, never mind that Charles has taken no active interest in our business."

"Charles always has been a bit of a dreamer," Myka says fondly, the anger gone from her voice at least for the moment.

The sound of affection in her voice now does something to Helena. She feels a tightness in her stomach that she doesn't know what to do about.

"He's had the luxury of dreaming," she says, the bitterness in her own voice barely disguised. Something in the way Myka looks at her makes her think she recognizes the feeling.

"So, what comes next? Do you forbid me to see your brother?"

"I would never forbid you anything. But my mother, however, would prefer that outcome, even going so far to offer you a substantial sum of money."

Myka laughs now. "Money. Is that your family's answer for everything?"

"When it works, yes."

"And when it doesn't?"

Helena doesn't answer.

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much have you been told to offer me to stay away from Charles?" Myka asks, steel in her eyes.

Helena feels ashamed, not for the first time regarding her family's ways. “Half a million.”

Myka's eyes widen at the sum. "And if I refuse?"

“One million.”

"No," Myka says.

“Two million," Helena counters softly.

"No," Myka stands resolute. "Your family can't buy me, Helena. You have no reason to worry about me getting involved with Charles. And I suppose since you delivered his message in such detail, now it’s my cue to leave. Goodnight,” she says, turning to leave.

Without another word, Myka brushes past Helena, careful not to touch her and leaves the court behind, breaking into a run when she’s escaped outside, tears blurring her vision all the way back to the garage where she belongs.

[melis-writes]

what's your take on michael and kay's relationship in the films? do you think michael actually loved her?

Absolutely, I do!! I've done so much research and analysis on them both in film and the book because I'm obsessed with them as a couple LMAO. I've written straight up essays on here. You can find them here, here, here, and here.

To sum up the most important parts from all of them to prove my point:

Michael also makes this clear to Kay after he becomes Don too. Michael reminded Kay countless times throughout the book that he wanted to marry her, that he wanted to slowly be transparent to her about the nature of his family first. He really worked on building the love and trust in his relationship with Kay because he believed in having a future and a family with her, with or without the family business.

Michael even thought about changing his last name (seriously) for the sake of Kay’s reputation.

Michael said gently, “Will your parents approve of me?” Kay shrugged, “I don’t care,” she said. Michael said, “I even thought of changing my name, legally.”

Kay came in after him and put her arms around his waist from behind. “When are we going to get married?” She asked. “Whenever you say.” Michael said.

Mind you, Michael is not in any way desperate to marry Kay or in an urgent need to. This is all solely built on the trust, affection, and bond they have in their relationship together. He mentions marriage a lot more to her than she does to him.

When Michael had returned home from Sicily, he told Kay that she was the only one he was ever “in love” with:

[Kay:] “Why do you want me to marry you after never calling me all these months?” [Michael:] “You are the only person I felt any affection for, that I care about. I didn’t call you because it never occurred to me that you’d still be interested in me after everything that’s happened. […] I want you and I want a family.” “You know, when I came home I wasn’t that glad when I saw my family, my father, my mother, my sister Connie, and Tom. It was nice but I didn’t really give a damn. Then I came home tonight and saw you in the kitchen and I was glad. Is that what you mean by love?”

He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the lips. Her mouth was sweet and he gently pulled her down on the bed. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to make love to her and Michael felt an enormous happiness. He had spent the war years fighting in the Pacific, and on those bloody islands he had dreamed of a girl like Kay Adams. Of a beauty like hers. She opened her eyes and hen pulled his head down to kiss him. They made love until it was time for dinner and the theater.

Michael refused to listen to anyone else asked/told Michael he should get surgery done for the bits of broken bone in his face due to McClusky breaking his jaw, even 2 years after the injury healed on the outside of his cheek. Kay was the exception to this of course! Michael wanted Kay’s opinion, and subsequently “got his face fixed”:

She knew that Michael had done it against all his own inclinations. Had done it because she has asked him to, and that she was the only person in the world who could make him act against his own nature.

And lets not forget when he said...

“You were all that I loved and valued most in the world and now I’m losing you…I’ve lost you anyway; You’re gone and it was all for nothing. You need to understand that I had a whole different destiny planned for us.”

And keeping in mind these following points:

Michael could have remarried any time after his divorce from Kay and had more children/a second son.

Michael wore his wedding ring for another 10+ years.

Michael was still trying to win Kay, apologize to her, get close to her in TGF3.

Michael moved onto Kay barely a year after Apollonia’s death.

Michael referred to Kay as “his wife” even after she remarried.

Yes, in full truth I do believe Michael loved Kay. I believe he cared for her deeply and was in love with her to the fullest extent. Their relationship and romance as a whole is so much better fleshed out in the book than the film but of course Michael is also essentially two different people when you compare him to how he was in the novel versus the film. I get why he's portrayed differently, but it's so easy to gloss over the truth of him and Kay if you don't actually sit to think about what they had and what Michael held together for their future together. ❤️

[dearmahiru]

Assigning Milgram Characters Mili Songs

combining my favorite media for maximum serotonin! i hope other people do milgram song assignments because i will listen to your favorite song if you tell me it reminds you of my fav milgram character.

(IF ES WAS HERE THEY'D GET STRING THEOCRACY OR EXTENSION OF YOU!!!)

Haruka — Birthday Kid

"In my dreams, you praised me and clapped. Then mommy said, 'It's alright, there's always next time. You did your best""

I was so tempted to put in Ocean Bby instead so I could post the spotify cover of a guy in the mili mascot costume smoking but. unfortunately. Birthday Kid is clearly the better Haruka song. Themes of wishing for a family, coping with loneliness, and believing it's your fault you lost everything. #Harukacore

Yuno — Sideshow Duckling

"Golden Rouge. The duckling rubbed it and thought 'I'm enough to win my own approval'."

I'm not too sure about this one but the overall story struck me as Yuno? It's a bit hard to explain but the sweet yet insecure swan revealing a darker version of herself and learning to love herself felt similar to Yuno's Umbilical/Teardrop arc. I feel like there's probably a better song out there though.

Fuuta — Rightfully

"Lubricate our blades with blood and tears, and your piercing screams are music to celebrate."

I'm not too sure about this choice but I think it's passable? The fantasy chanting, the knight motifs, the dnd refetence, rallying with a group to defeat an enemy, it feels #Fuutacore. Alternately I'd consider Iron Flower but that's solely for the fire motifs.

Mu — Mitsubachi

"Everybody has two distinct faces Don’t you agree? Are you saying you’re special? Oh stop dreaming will you?"

Some of my choices barely fit meanwhile Mu recieves the bilingual french-japanese song called Honeybee. I don't think I need to explain this assignment any further.

Shidou — Bulbel

"I’m still my insufferable self. Setting my hair on fire, giving you warmth. Hoping you’d realize I want you by my side. May the lilies bloom for me."

Wow, Shidou gets the coffin flower song who could have foreseen this. I think the song's theme of going through several sacrifices in exchange for the happiness of someone you love fits him well enough.

Mahiru — From A Place Of Love

"There's just so much work, too much work to be done. Committing to commitments. Hiding my indulgence. The freedom we sacrifice for love."

Mili has a roster of sad romantic songs so this is a honestly a tie between this song, Turtle Heart, and Bathtub Mermaid. However, I settled From A Place Of Love becausw the song's progression from enjoying eachother's company to being thrusted into marriage too soon and then realizing you regret ever being in a relationship together struck me as #Mahirucore.

Kazui— And Then Is Heard No More

"Would you say that someone who had every intention to be brave was a coward?"

Kazui got the soft ballad song again! It's hard for me to describe it but I think this is a good pick for him? Feeling dispirited because of your inactions and thinking about how your life could've been with someone who's dead. It really resonates with me but I'm not confident enough with my knowledge regarding Kazui.

Amane — My Creator

"I wish you were here, I wish you were here. You would have been so proud of my achievements."

I think Mortal With You is also a good Amane pick but I felt more inclined for My Creator. Sometimes it's obscure when Amane's talking about "Father" if she means her actual dad or her God. I think My Creator being about someone's abused experiment wanting the love of their Father/God/Creator fits her along with the religious motifs.

Mikoto — Camelia

"Nobody is born a fighter, there isn't enough space for all of us. You don't have to act so tough. No one can make you budge."

I hate this pick so much this is easily the worst but I couldn't find anything for Mikoto. I settled for Camelia because one of Mikoto's major themes is protecting himself, and Camelia is about an elder sister protecting her younger one by shooting a man. The reasoning is shoddy and if anyone can provide a better song I love you.

Kotoko — Paper Bouquet

"If the future needs a billion samples of flowers, I’m your reaper. I’ve no colour so the least I can do for you is endure."

Whereas Mikoto is protecting himself, Kotoko wants to protect others. There's lots of Mili songs where the narrator wants to do something for the sake of the one they love but in the end I settle on Paper Bouquet for Kotoko. I'm not too sure about but I think the chorus about "a means to an end," and having to bury a highschool student would be something that'd spur Kotoko into protecting those weaker than her. Does that make sense?

[matan4il]

So, I've been waiting to see if anyone will ask this question and no one to my knowledge has. I guess that means I'll have to. Do you think the show has any intention of putting Eddie with Lucy? When they kept mentioning her as a female Buck all I could think about is them pairing her up with Eddie as a way to keep Buck and Eddie apart or maybe as a way for Eddie to actually realize that he's in love with Buck by realizing that he's with Lucy because she reminds him a bit of Buck.

Anyway, I hope you're feeling well and that your health is better.

Hi lovely and oooh, thank you for the question!

Honestly, it's such a good one. If the show did go there, it would be more interesting than putting Buck and Lucy together for sure. It would also be an indirect nod to Buddie, 'coz this is actually something that was quite a common trope in the history of literature for many centuries during which same sex relationships couldn't be explicitly explored. Can't be with your same sex love? Be with someone of the opposite sex who reflects your love as closely as possible. I can date this back to at least 1800 years ago, in rabbinical writing (in the Talmud), when they describe Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish meeting once again, childhood friends who had been torn apart, and now Reish Lakish sees Rabbi Yochanan bathing in the Jordan River and so he jumps right in. They can't be together, so Rabbi Yochanan offers his sister in marriage to Reish Lakish. His selling point? That his sister looks just like him. And Reish Lakish accepts without even having seen her.

They spend the rest of their lives studying the torah together, being known as the two greatest rabbis of their generation and completing each other's rabbinical capacities. When Roman soldiers want to arrest one of them in the middle of the night, they go to the other's house 'coz that's where they know they'd find him. In the middle of the night. And then when the two have a falling out, Reish Lakish is so heartbroken over it, he becomes ill and dies. Rabbi Yochanan's sister, the widow, she's in mourning, but she's not driven mad with sorrow. You know who is? Rabbi Yochanan upon hearing the news. He goes crazy, tearing his clothes off and screaming repeatedly, "Where are you, son of Lakish?" When the rabbis can't see him suffering anymore, they pray for him to be delivered, and he passes away. That's right, these two died of a broken heart over each other. I don't think you can get much gayer than that in the 2nd century Land of Israel.

And it starts by letting us know Rabbi Yochanan's sister is a stand in for the rabbi himself.

This is just an example, I could give more, but I hope I managed to demonstrate that this is actually a trope that has been used for subtextually writing same sex couples for millennia, and if the "female Buck" gets together with Eddie, even for two seconds, my queer, meta-inclined brain will actually stop functioning.

Will they do it? I honestly don't know. They'll have to do something to progress Buck and Eddie's romantic journeys, and they once more have both of them being single at the same time, just like in s3. They also have Madney to bring back together. I would think that if 911 is geared towards making Buddie canon, that won't progress before the Madney reunion. I'd say they can't keep both Buck and Eddie single and uninvolved with anyone for an entire season, but the show has done that in s3, and back then, they were the only romantically available characters on the show. So if the show wanted to, it could do it again. I'm not sure it does want to. But then, I do think that any involvement between Lucy and Eddie would bring us back to the kiss she shared with Buck. I don't think 911 is the kind of show that would endanger the Buddie r/s (whether romantic or as a friendship) for the sake of a love interest, they're clearly as invested in the Buddifer family unit as we are, so that's maybe the biggest reason why, if I absolutely had to take a guess, I'd be more inclined to think Lucy wouldn't be paired up with Eddie.

I hope this answer helps? I really do! Please don't hesitate to let me know. And thank you for the well wishes, I'm doing my best to deal! Sending LOADS of hugs and love your way! xoxox

If you're looking for my other replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox

[pynkhues]

Where do you think Logan and Marica are relationship-wise by the end of S3? Are we to assume the romantic part is basically over, and it's now more of a mutually beneficial partnership than a traditional marriage? Given Kerry's presence and Marcia's seeming indifference to her, it makes me wonder. Or maybe she knows something the siblings and the audience doesn't re: Kerry and Logan.

I'm really curious about it too, actually.

This is a bit of an aside, but I am so fascinated about the show's decision to slowly shut us out of Logan's POV in s3, in no small part because I'm pretty sure it timed with Logan shutting both Kendall and Shiv out. It makes for a really compelling shift in terms of narrative power, and I think – arguably – makes the case for Kendall and Shiv being the characters with the true foot in the door of Logan's inner life.

Roman was undoubtedly the favourite child of s3, but the fact that we were never granted Logan's true POV during this season in the way we were in s1 and s2 I think backs up what Shiv said to Roman in the car in 3.09. Logan never truly took Roman seriously because he thought there was something wrong with him, whereas both Kendall and Shiv were genuinely weighed by Logan, and also have an emotional 'in' to him that Roman and Connor don't. We could speculate all day about why that is (although I do, as always, put forth the case that both Kendall and Shiv remind him of Rose), but alas, haha.

Not getting his POV though in the second half of s3 really shut us out of so many of Logan's interpersonal dynamics, and especially his respective relationships with Marcia and Kerry.

I'm actually inclined to think that neither Marcia nor Logan really know what their relationship is anymore, but that they're both clearly wounded. One of my favourite things about their dynamic is that I think they're both two extremely traumatised people who, out of necessity, have become ruthless survivors, and it was in that that they found a very real human connection. I really do think they were in love, but I also think Marcia was right when she told Logan at the end of 2.08 that he broke something by betraying her trust. I think she could've tolerated an affair, but not the partnership Logan tried to have with Rhea, and definitely not being shut out.

In that sense, I think the wound has been a gaping one, and her return to him in s3 is one of murky motivation. Yes, she wants to secure her financial future, and she certainly wants everyone around them to know that Logan fucked up, but I think she also genuinely circled being a partner to him again, first through floating the idea of exposing what Kendall had done at Shiv's wedding, and later through playing the face at Caroline's wedding while Logan schemed upstairs. Similarly, I think Logan wanted Marcia back – something I thought was loud in 2.10 in particular – but when she was cold, he likely retreated.

Logan doesn't like to face the ways that he's hurt people he loves – god, just think of the therapy session in 1.07 – and he tends to attack, then retreat, then pretend it never happened at all. I think what probably happened as a result was that Marcia and him circled each other after getting back together, but she was still wounded which made him self-defensive, and so he pursued a relationship on the side that was easy aka Kerry, and Marcia doesn't care because Kerry's sort of nothing.

Rhea was a threat because Rhea was a cockroach too. She knew how to climb up the cracks and survive the bombs. We haven't seen a lot of Kerry, but she seems young and opportunistic, and like the type of woman who takes Logan at his word (like how she thought he'd remember his uti meds – we even have the direct parallel there with how much Marcia protected him after his stroke), so I think Marcia probably thinks Kerry's not much of anything but a passing fancy to an old man.

So yeah – I think she and Logan remain unaddressed. I think Marcia's priority was in securing her financial future, and that of her children, and obviously Logan's priority was in the picture of her back at his side, but I do think there's something real between them. It's just the wounds of them are festering, both together and apart, and they're both waiting for the other to press a salve to it that they never will.

Or maybe a better metaphor – they're not finished, but the book of them is lying open between them, and both are playing blind.

[becausethathappens]

Something Borrowed & Something Blue

3k - then & now - Link has always tried to be a good son-in-law.

Not because they're blood relatives, like the other aunts and uncles at the table, or anything of the nature, but because they’re not sure who else they'd even know to talk to with the guest list as it is.

Read it on Ao3

The McLaughlins are seated at table 2, along with his parents. 

And he'll never hear the end of it if they have a bad time. 

Not that he wants them to. He wants to be a good host. 

This whole wedding thing has become a lot more stress than anticipated and Link would sooner elope in a field or a courthouse somewhere if it meant escaping the rigmarole whole cloth. 

The way Christy was going back and forth with the florist right up until the night before makes him think she’d be inclined to agree, if they'd had to go through even one more week of preparation.

But it's important for his family, new and old.

When he stops by during the reception to sit with his dad, they have a good talk about not screwing this up and putting Christy first after God. It’s a lot of the same warnings that a lifetime of observation has already taught Link to not do, but he smiles and nods. 

His mom is up dancing with her new husband and Rhett's mom is up with a set of Christy’s older cousins. When Link's dad excuses himself to get more pork from the buffet and a cigarette (he says he’s not yet decided the order), it occurs to Link that he and Rhett's dad are now the only two left at the table.

The same thoughts seem to occur to Rhett's dad, as well, who shifts politely over to meet Link where he's sat. Link stills, warily, but knows he can excuse himself shortly after to avoid any prolonged awkward conversation. First, he does need to pay his respects. He’s host, after all.

"Did a great job today, out there, Lincoln. Your pop’s been going on and on about it, all night."

"Oh, well, thanks —” Jimmy, is what Link knows he should say. He's always struggled being that casual with Mr. McLaughlin and has even opted for "Jim" in other such occasions that called for him to address him directly. It has earned him looks. 

But it feels strange to call someone who's that big an authority figure to you by their first name. Like running into your science teacher at church. In Link’s defense, he even is a professor. There’s a certain air of seriousness that settles over every conversation they have.

Much like what is happening to this very one as Link starts to squash it. He tells himself that this is as good a time as any to start acting like a real adult, even if he’s just pretending to be one. 

He leans into the expected exuberance of being the groom and hangs on his last word with a big smile. He’s not in the mood to figure out what to call Rhett’s dad, so he doesn’t call him anything.

Mr. McLaughlin merely nods.

"And thanks for putting up with the rest of table number 2's antics," Link jokes, trying to lighten the tension at his tongue-tied response.

"'S a good bunch," Mr. McLaughlin answers, dismissing the presumption with a hand wave and a smirk. "All very proud of you and Christy, tonight. Everyone’s in good spirits," he points out, motioning to the dance floor where one of Link’s cousins dancing a little risqué for this crowd. Link cringes. “Extra good spirits, for some.”

He reminds himself that, yes, they do have good reasons to be here. 

It's been hard to shake the feeling of the stressful event being anything but a burden as of late.

This is supposed to be a party.

"Just glad I didn't screw it up," Link jokes. "Say the wrong name, something stupid."

"Say the wrong name?” Rhett’s dad laughs at that and Link blushes, proud he got him to chuckle, since it’s not easy to do. “I think you have more to worry about than just screwing your marriage up, if you’d have said the wrong name up there."

Link laughs. Then it hits him. "Gosh, I'm married."

Mr. McLaughlin laughs and gives a knowing head shake at the bewilderment. "Welcome to the club. We all get matching rings and keys,” he jokes, wiggling his finger and patting his chest pocket. “Now, you just gotta work on your golf game.”

Link stares off, wanting to laugh, but mostly just flabbergasted that he has more in common with Rhett’s dad than Rhett when it comes to their marital status, at the moment.

Mr. McLaughlin can tell.

"We're happy to see you settle down. Hope my other son will, too," Mr. McLaughlin says, eyeing where Rhett is dancing with his beautiful date. They both know it's only a matter of time.

"Definitely. Any day now," Link assures him.

"Well, you're a lucky man. She's a beautiful bride."

"Thank you."

"Here, I was startin' to think you were hung up on my son, before I saw a picture of the two o’ you together."

Link laughs because there was nothing else he could say. Then, unthinking, he responds, "Same."

The answer lingers in the air for a second.

Then Link realizes it suggests something he did not mean and certainly not the kind of thing he felt comfortable even erroneously implying to Rhett's dad.

‘Cause he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. 

"I mean… not. That's not even legally poss… well, you know that," Link stammers out in a rush to find a point before he finally gives up. He looks for something far away that would be reason enough to get up and leave this conversation.

Mr. McLaughlin has known him just as long as Rhett, however, and can see the unease run steady through him. The older man’s rosy cheeks stay upturned.

"Well, of course. But I'm sure you'll make a great son-in-law to anybody lucky enough to getcha as one. You’ll be glad to hear, tonight, Christy's folks seem to know so. We certainly made sure of it, if they didn’t."

Link looks forward, out past the empty table before them. 

He sees Rhett dancing with Christy and a few friends. 

His heart and mind are blinded by the compliment, especially given the source. 

His eyes slam shut while he bares his teeth, like he’s laughing, but he’s not really. It’s a different kind of joy, but equally radiant. Beyond any kind of filter he could have by this point in the long day, he nearly cries, feeling overwhelmed with happiness. 

He breathes in deep.

"I hope they're nice. They seem real nice," Link explains, barreling past the high praise in hopes of not getting any more emotional tonight than he already started out.

"They do."

"You know how I can be. I worry they might not know what they signed up for."

Mr. McLaughlin smirks because he does know. 

"Well, can't say they did. But, even if they have a hard time at first, they'll come ‘round."

Link nods, looking at the older couple in question who are also up on the dance floor.

"We're always gonna be here, though, so if you ever run into any trouble with them. You just come to us. Marriage, the new house, any of that. Well, Rhett'll tell you that, I'm sure."

"Oh, you don't—” Link begins, trailing off speechless. He’s startled by the show of generosity from the same man who used to scold him for eating their bacon bits supply out of house and home. "You don't have to do that. We'll be all right."

Rhett's mother arrives suddenly, sitting back down in a rush. She takes a large gulp of ice water and jostles her feet around under the table to relax her heels off after so much dancing. Link’s mom does the same thing when she dresses up.

"Was telling Lincoln, here, how proud we are of him and Christy, today. And to come to us if he has any issues. Not that we’re marriage experts or perfect at it, but we got a decent track record. I think he's worried that's asking too much of us."

Rhett's mom smiles at Link, shooing at his sleeve with a loving slap of her palm. "Nonsense, sweetheart! You're family. That's what family does. You'll know soon enough, what with startin' your own."

Mr. McLaughlin nods. Link knows that she speaks for them both. Always has.

Link extends an open palm and shakes first Mrs. then Mr. McLaughlin’s hands in parting. 

"Thank you both for coming. Truly. I care for you deeply and I’m glad that you’re here."

"Oh, honey, aren’t you — it’s our pleasure, darlin’ and I hope you remember to dance the night away," Mrs. McLaughlin says back, beaming. 

Link waves as he makes his way towards where the rest of his friends and family are on the floor.

.

"Did my dad say you were like a son to him?" Rhett asks, carefully taking the shimmering tuxedo off so the beaded design doesn't snag his hair (beard or pony). "Or am I making things up in my head?"

"Think he did, yeah," Link confirms, dreamily.

"Then he said he loved you very, very much?"

"Sure did," Link hums back, smile huge.

For a long time, Link has blocked out the memory of something similar happening before. 

A misspoken joke that haunted him anytime he brought strife into Rhett's life that he knew the older man would be there to witness or pass judgment on. In his defense, more often than not, it was usually Rhett bringing strife into his life and Link merely trying to maintain something resembling calm. At least that’s what it felt like.

There's plenty of years and states between then and now.

Back then, the exchange ended on a polite note where Mr. McLaughlin wished him well. He editorializes the rest in his head. For all he knew, his slip-up wasn’t even fully understood by the older man.

Last time he saw Rhett's parents, they were gushing over something to him, even. They’ve come a long way to now give high praise over how casual he was having met someone they watch every week on CBS. It's still hard, however, for Link to separate the two different versions he has of them. Three of four versions, really, if he includes the iterations before then.

It’s hard to imagine the stern authoritarian figures they were to him growing up being so kind and gentle with him, in adulthood. It’s not something he ever expected to get from them and so he’s surprised time and again to receive it.

Either way: today was different. 

Today was public and honest and a little blurry, but that could have been due to the pixel count, not his tears. 

And he's on cloud nine.

Rhett whines, "I don't even get that kind of talk from him."

"He said he loved both of us," Links exclaims.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really!"

"How did I miss that? Did my ears just turn off in the middle or somethin'? I totally missed that."

"Maybe you were as hung up on him calling me a son as I was. As I am. I remain.”

Rhett pauses. He doesn't answer and that's essentially confirmation to Link that it's true.

"He's never did that before," Link says flatly.

"No," Rhett says, simply. He puts his hands on his hips, below where his untucked dress shirt tails have fallen, and looks hard at the far wall, like he's working on a math problem.

"It was nice."

Rhett's quiet for a little while longer, then he adds, "You are, basically. His son-in-law, that is. For all intents."

"Right?" Link agrees, chipper. Rhett’s been teetering in and out of “about to cry” all day and Link’s trying to keep him right side up. They still have meetings after this. "Got a ring to prove it and everything!" Link adds, wiggling his finger in Rhett's face like that might help snap him out of the seriousness of his stilted posture.

Rhett looks over, finally tearing his gaze from the wall, to focus on the new ring Link has. Not the matching one from before. The new… also... matching one. A uniquely matching one, actually.

All that seems to matter in Rhett's gaze is that they are identical rings, just as Link teased. 

It's not meant as a joke, necessarily, how he says it. Just as the original comment about being hung up on Rhett wasn’t, if he's honest with himself, which is something he's been trying to do more of lately.

Something in Rhett's expression let's him know they're on the same page. His eyes brighten.

"You know he told me I'd be a good son-in-law before I even really was one. Still not sure I'm living up to that with Christy's parents, but lord knows I try. I think he knew I would. Helped to know he thought that of me, back then, that I could be. Especially helped when it was a lot harder. Startin' out. If he thought I could do it..."

"I'm sorry he's been such a hard ass on you, too," Rhett interrupts, gently. 

"Hey, don't talk about my dad like that!"

"Link…"

"I'm serious!" He sticks out his tongue.

"You can't honestly say he hasn't annoyed you, too, in the past?"

"Of course! But everybody’s capable of change, Rhett. Aren't you the one always telling me that?"

Rhett sighs.

"Besides, I think he was worried I had a crush on you growing up and took it out on both of us. Probably thought he was protecting you or me or us both. He didn’t know any better. Should have, but... he didn’t. It was a different time."

Rhett blanches. "What? No way! What the hell comment section did you get that idea from? Do you even hear yourself?"

"He told me himself," Link tells a stunned Rhett. Then continues to shock, by specifying, "At my wedding."

Rhett puts a palm to his forehead and drags it down to smush his whole upper face. "Oh, god. That's… I had no idea he did that. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it’s fine. What's there to be sorry about?" Link asks, nearing Rhett slowly.

"My dad making assumptions has always been… and on your wedding day? I can't begin to... I don't know why he'd even have a problem with it, it's not right that he did."

Link pauses. "Did he?"

"What?" Rhett asks, visibly abandoning his earlier train of thought in an attempt to follow what Link means.

"Have a problem with it. Did he?"

"Well, I mean… you just said…"

"I used to think that, too, but… after today? Even then, when I told him I was nervous about being good enough for Christy's mom and dad, he said l would be. Kind of like how someone would say it if they already knew from experience. Like you said. For all intents and purposes, I am."

"I guess it's a hypothetical, then, because I'm sure he'd have a problem, if you had… you know, if you actually were hung up on me."

There's a long pause.

Something about the way Rhett looks — shy, young, embarrassed — forces Link to be brutally honest with him. If only because a part of him remains haunted that it's a secret he and Mr. McLaughlin have shared from Rhett, until now. He wants to be open with Rhett, fully, for the rest of time.

"I told him I thought I might be," Link says.

Then, at Rhett's speechlessness and staggering look of disbelief, he lets out something that until moments ago was secret even to himself, "I think I maybe still am."

"Link…" Rhett trails off, deeply unsure.

Link shrugs.

"And you don't think he had a problem with it? Even back then?" Rhett whispers, breathless.

Once again, Link's shoulders raise up, dismissive. "He said what he said, yeah. But, I married you anyway, didn't I? Who had the last laugh?" Link asks, wiggling the finger with the black band again. "Or ’ye shall hold your peace’ is how it goes, right?"

Rhett stares at Link and then the ring then back at Link.

"We're not…"

Link smiles. The weight that's lifted from his shoulders makes the rest of the words tumble out with confidence and joy. 

"I'm like a son to him," he crows. 

Rhett breaks down, finally. Acknowledging those were the actual words he heard earlier makes it impossible not to. Tears shatter his composure and he looks away as they sting his eyes. "We used to joke about how annoyed he used to get with you."

Link nods, he remembers probably better than anyone short of Rhett what it’s like getting yelled at by Mr. McLaughlin. 

Everyone fell as short as they would next to Rhett’s actual height when it came to that. 

But Link put up numbers. So, it does feel astounding to think that they may have inadvertently turned a corner on a lifetime's worth of derision in the span of an hour. Really only a tiny little clip.

"I know," Link confirms.

Rhett sniffs as he tries to calm himself. Link's near enough now to reach out a hand and pat Rhett's right arm.  

"I-I never thought I'd hear him say it like that, just all normal, and stuff. Just like that," Rhett explains. "Right in front of everybody. It’s just — it’s just — it’s..."

Link reaches over and pulls Rhett into a long, firm hug. He rubs Rhett's back along his shoulder blades. "He loves us, just like he said. Of course he does, Rhett. Same as we do any of our kids."

When Rhett pulls back it's only for a second before he slots his forehead to Link’s. "You tryin’ to tell me we're married and I never even kissed you?"

"Technically…" Link starts, putting a hand up like he might argue the point, and he leans in close to emphasize the word.

Rhett catches him off guard and joins their lips, transcendent. Softly, they press together.

When they pull back there’s only enough space for their foreheads to remain flush. Rhett is leaning down at the right angle so that Link doesn’t have to do more than look upward to remain rested against him.

"You have, yes. We’ve kissed," Link finishes his earlier thought more accurately with a cheek-bursting grin.

"I love you, bo. You already know that, right?" Rhett asks, pressing a palm to cup the length of Link’s jaw.

"I do," Link confirms. His eyes soften as he realizes his words. He pushes forward to offer Rhett the same in return. "I've loved you since forever... 'til forever. You get that, now?" He adds the question purposefully. 

Rhett instantly catches his meaning, pulling him back in for another kiss, one that Link was anticipating even less than than the first. This one has tongue and teeth with a hint of warm sugar. A buried mewl escapes from deep in Rhett’s chest as they squeeze together for a final lip smack before parting.

Once he pulls back to take a breath, Rhett boasts proudly, "I do."

.

Next time they shake hands, Link greets Mr. McLaughlin, “Dad!”

[randomposterofstuff]

Soldiers by Choice - Chapter XV

Author’s Note: Hi, all! Here's Chapter 15!

Tumblr Chapters List can be found here:

This story is also available on Ao3. Check my Tumblr page to click on the ‘Archive of Our Own’ tab!

CHAPTER 15: Drafts and Plans

Summary: Mikasa and Levi write to their parents about their courtship. Meanwhile, the cadets of the Southern Division Cadets Corps take a practical strategy exam.

Year 848 (8th Month – 4th Week)

---

Dearest Mother and Father,

I will tell you the news directly: Levi has proposed marriage to me.

This will likely come as a shock to you. Though I'm inclined to think that you won't be that surprised, I always had the impression that you sensed that there was something more between Levi and me than just being friends and co-captains. But if I am mistaken, I want to be clear: I love Levi. I’ve loved him for a long time now. Yet, up until recently, I was afraid of expressing my feelings out loud. But when he told me that he loves me too, I finally found the courage to be honest about how I felt.

I know that you will want to know the circumstances which led to this development. I don’t want to go into too much detail, so I will summarize. It happened during our latest expedition. It was raining heavily, and mist filled the area - those things only made things even more dangerous than usual. While we were engaged in combat, Levi was captured by a Titan which neither of us noticed because it was hidden in the mist. Thankfully, I was able to reach him in time. In the aftermath, we were both profoundly reminded that nothing is absolutely guaranteed. And with that in mind, we decided to tell each other how we truly felt. Levi proposed to me the following day.

I have not yet given him an answer. Levi himself does not want me to respond yet. He has declared his intention to court me first; he asked for a chance to prove that we are right for each other and that he can make me happy. And I gladly gave him that chance. In light of this, he wishes to meet you during the Yuletide break to formally ask for your blessing in person.

Levi is also writing a letter addressed to you as I am writing this. Since we will be sending our letters together, you will also receive his along with this one. I hope that you will respond positively to him. We will also send letters to Lord Ackerman and Lady Kuchel regarding our relationship. And we hope that our families can formally meet during the break.

I hope that you will take our news well. I also hope that you are both in good health. I can’t wait to see you again.

With love,

Mikasa

As Mikasa finishes signing her name, she hears Levi grumble from his desk.

"That's the fourth sheet of paper you've gone through," she remarks, watching him crumple another piece of paper into a small ball.

“I’m having trouble finding the right words.” He says, already writing the salutation portion of his next draft.

Mikasa smiles fondly, finding the sight of him putting effort into his letter to her parents endearing.

“Well, I’ll understand your struggle soon enough.” She remarks as she sets aside her letter to her parents to grab another sheet of paper. “I’m going to start drafting a letter to your uncle and mother.”

“Trust me. They are not going to have a problem with you.” Levi says as he stares intently at the paper on his desk, “So, you’re better off than I am.”

Mikasa laughs lightly. “At any rate, we’ll all cross those bridges when we get to them.”

She’s just about to write her salutation to Lord Ackerman and Lady Kuchel when their office door suddenly bursts open. The door swings violently and bounces against the wall before stopping at a standstill.

The pair look up to see Hange, the arm they used to slam the door open still outstretched. Their dark brown hair is wind-swept, and their green cloak still hangs around their shoulders. The bespectacled Section Commander looks at the captains with wide eyes.

“Welcome back, Hange.” Mikasa greets them, unperturbed by their abrupt entrance.

“Is it true that you’re together now?!” They exclaim in reply, grinning widely.

Before either of them can answer, a second figure quickly appears in the doorway.

“Section Commander!” Moblit yells, his own green cloak fluttering behind him, “You shouldn’t have barged in on them like that!” The Executive Officer then turns to the pair, “Captains, I am so sorry!”

Levi grunts. “It’s not like you could’ve stopped them even if you tried, Moblit.”

Hange’s still-widened brown eyes flit between the co-captains who remain seated at their respective desks.

“You guys haven’t answered me yet!” They whine, “Is it true that you’re a couple now?!”

“Yes.” Levi and Mikasa answer, voices calm, at the same time.

Hange’s mouth falls agape. A second later, they squeal loudly as they start marching in place excitedly. “I always knew that you two had a special connection!”

They then whip their finger in Levi’s direction, “And is it true that you already proposed?!”

Levi’s brow twitches slightly in annoyance at the Titan-scientist’s antics, but he replies anyway. “Yes. But Mikasa hasn’t given me an answer yet. We’re still courting.”

Moblit then places a hand on his superior’s arm, “Section Commander, they’ve already answered your questions. So, let’s let them be.”

Hange refuses to move from their place. “I heard that you kissed in the field while we were gone!” They screech, “I can’t believe I missed it! I wish I pushed the Research Division’s trip to this week instead of going last week!”

Moblit sighs wearily. They had just returned from the Nivas District. And when the Titan-researcher had asked if anything interesting had happened while they were away, they were informed that the famous Ackerman captains had entered into a relationship.

Naturally, his Section Commander was eager to confirm the news.

“Congratulations on your courtship, Captains,” he tells them over his superior’s shoulder, a weary but sincere smile on his features. “We wish you the best.”

“Thank you, Moblit,” Mikasa responds with a gracious smile.

“Can you guys kiss for me since I missed the one from last week?!”

“Tch. Forget it. We’re not going to kiss just because you asked.”

“Oh, come on, Levi!”

---

Inside a lecture hall at the Southern Division Cadet Corps Headquarters, the instructor’s chalk scrapes against the blackboard as he illustrates how a five-man formation can attack a Titan in open terrain.

“3DM gear can only be utilized with a stable anchor point. As such, the gear cannot be used in an open area where there are no buildings or trees.”

The cadets behind him scribble in their notebooks as they copy the drawings on the board and take note of their teacher’s commentary.

“If you’re in open terrain with a Titan, you can use its body as an anchor point,” the instructor says as he draws a line between a circle meant to represent a soldier and a large humanoid shape, “however, you have to act fast and make sure not to get caught by the Titan. For a higher chance of success, four soldiers will aim for the limbs of the Titan while the fifth one goes for the nape.”

He then turns to the class, the lines of middle age on his face made more pronounced by the severity of his expression. “This is a basic plan, but its actual execution in real-life combat will be much more difficult. And external circumstances might even call for a change in the plan. So, you must be prepared to react and adapt as the situation demands it. Is that clear, cadets?!”

“Yes, Instructor Garret!” The class immediately responds.

“Good.” Garret places the piece of chalk down before opening a desk-side drawer. “Before we end this morning’s session, I will return your group assignment papers.”

He exhales through his nose as he takes out a fairly large pile of papers.

“In this class, you are taught how to strategize in order to achieve the best possible outcome in any situation," Garret states as he places the pile onto the desk. “And the purpose of this particular assignment was to test your ability to handle dangerous situations involving civilians and ordinary criminals. So, you were given a scenario involving a kidnapping.”

A look of disappointment then settles on his face. “However, nearly half of the groups failed to contrive a sufficient strategy that will allow them to retrieve the victim with no casualties on either side.”

Nearly everyone in the room suddenly becomes tense, with many cadets feeling anxious about their grades.

Jean presses his lips in a firm line at the announcement. Damn, a bad grade might affect my chances of joining the Military Police.

But he takes a breath to calm himself as he remembers who his groupmates are. I got paired up with Armin and Annie, he smiles more assuredly at the reminder, and our plan was great.

“No group was able to get a perfect score. But in any case,” Garret continues, his disappointment starting to lessen, “there were five groups who presented exemplary plans and consequently got the highest marks for this assignment."

He then takes out another stack of papers; the second stack consists of five individually clipped compilations of paper.

“The group with the fifth highest score, a grade of 90.” The instructor announces before lifting the first compilation in the second pile, “Sasha Braus, Samuel Linke-Jackson, and Thomas Wagner.”

“Yes!” Sasha pumps up a fist victoriously as Thomas makes his way to the instructor to claim their graded paper. The rest of the class claps politely.

“Fourth-highest, with 91. Ymir, Bertolt Hoover, and Ruth Kline.”

The clapping resumes when Ymir stands up and collects her group’s paper with a satisfied look.

“Third highest, with 93. Marco Bodt, Mina Carolina, and Krista Lenz.”

Krista and Mina smile at each other from their respective desks as Marco claims their paper with a proud smile.

“Second highest, with 95. Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, and Annie Leonhart.”

Jean grins broadly and sportingly claps Armin on the back. “Go on!” He gestures for the blonde to get their paper.

Armin rises from his seat to walk to the instructor’s table. When he receives the paper, he quickly turns to Annie’s desk at the far-right side of the room. The female blonde merely stares back at him, though he catches the side of her mouth quirking upwards slightly in acknowledgment.

When Armin makes his way back to his seat, murmurs can be heard from the other cadets.

“I thought Armin’s group would get the highest grade.”

“If they got second, who got first?”

The instructor clears his throat, and the mumbling instantly stops.

"The overall highest, with a score of 96," Garret announces as he raises the only compilation left from the top 5 pile. “Reiner Braun, Connie Springer, and Eren Yeager.”

Eren’s eyes widen in surprise at the announcement. He promptly turns around in his chair to grin at Connie who is seated behind him. The Springer boy grins back before raising a thumb at him.

The rest of the class murmur in wonder as they clap while Reiner collects their group’s paper.

Garret then grabs the remaining papers and calls on group representatives to claim them.

“We’ll have a practical test this afternoon to see how you actually execute your plans. Only groups with passing marks shall participate.” Garret announces once the last group has collected their graded paper. “The grade for the practical test is separate from the grade for the written assignment. Those who failed will participate in training drills with Commandant Shadis.”

---

“We got the highest grade!” Eren says while holding out a hand to Reiner, who’s seated on the other side of the wooden table.

Reiner slaps his palm against the brunette’s before clasping it in a firm, hearty shake. “We sure did, Eren.” The broad-shouldered cadet grins.

“Ha!” Connie exclaims, “I finally beat you in grades, Armin!” He points his spoon triumphantly to the blonde seated across him.

Armin lets out a good-natured laugh while Jean merely rolls his eyes.

“It was a group assignment, Connie.” Jean remarks as he breaks his loaf of bread. “It doesn’t count. Besides, it was just a one-point difference. And I’m sure that Reiner did most of the work for you and Eren.”

“Hey!” Connie counters indignantly, “Me and Eren contributed!”

Their bickering mixes with the idle chatter of the rest of the cadets as they have their communal lunch at the mess hall.

Eren takes a bite of his rice before side-eyeing Jean. “And I’m sure that Armin didn’t come up with most of your group’s plan.” He mumbles sarcastically.

Irked, Jean turns sharply to the green-eyed cadet. “It was a group effort between the three of us!”

Reiner merely laughs at the squabbling. “I’m sure that it was, Jean. After all, you usually rank high along with Armin in individual exams.”

Jean huffs his chest proudly. “See? Even the brain of your group acknowledges my genius.”

“But to be clear,” the burly blonde says, "Eren and Connie did contribute. Our output would’ve been different if they didn’t.”

Eren and Connie beam at the praise.

“See, Jean?” The Springer boy remarks smugly.

“Yeah. You probably would’ve gotten a higher grade if they didn’t contribute.” Jean says, half-smirking when the other two boys send pissed looks at him.

The others at the table laugh at the exchange.

“Oh, you just can’t stand to lose, can you, Jean?” Marco remarks, equal parts amused and exasperated.

Sasha gobbles up her bread before addressing the group. “It really would’ve been nice to get a higher grade, though.” She muses out loud. “I was really hoping that Instructor Garret would’ve paired me up with Armin.”

“Everyone wanted to get paired up with Armin, Sasha," Eren tells her before turning to his best friend with a smile, “After all, he has the best grades in the classroom.”

Armin smiles sheepishly at the praise. “But it’s good that we were grouped randomly. There will be instances when you're going to be separated from your own squad. And in that case, you’ll need to work with different people.”

Marco nods in agreement. “It’s good training because we learn how to cooperate with others outside of our friend group. This is especially important during emergency situations.”

Bertolt hums audibly behind his glass of water, catching everyone’s attention.

“What’s wrong, Bertolt? Sasha asks.

The dark-haired cadet looks a bit startled at the sudden attention directed to him. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I remembered that Ymir wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about group work.”

“She never is unless it's with Krista.” Eren comments, “And even then, she’d still rather laze around.”

"You still got a higher score than us, though," Sasha tells Bertolt, her mouth half-full with rice. “And to be fair, Ymir’s actually pretty sharp. She just doesn’t like working too much.”

Bertolt nods. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, too.”

---

A lone bird swoops down the sky towards the wooden roof of the small cabin. Though it squawks loudly when it lands, the three plain-clothed men standing guard continue to face the surrounding trees.

The forest is quiet save for the occasional flapping of wings and pecking against wood. A moment later, the rustling of leaves is heard.

The man at the northern side of the cabin steadies his rifle, pointing it in front of him.

“I think someone’s nearby!” He calls out, and the other two at the eastern and western sides also prepare their rifles.

The forest goes silent again, and the three men sweep their eyes around the area, looking for signs of other people.

They then hear something thump against wood from the western side accompanied by more rustling leaves. A moment later, they witness an entire flock of birds take flight and soar right out of the adjacent woods and into the clearing.

And following closely behind is a young man in 3DM gear, his cables reeling back into the mechanism as he raises his blades mid-air.

“Get him!” One of the guards shouts as he and his companions take aim.

Connie merely smirks as he reshoots his cables to an adjacent tree, getting out of their range even before the first shot was fired.

The men follow him with their gunfire. However, their bullets merely bounce off the wood as their target zips in the air and makes sharp turns around the trees.

The clearing is instantly filled with the sound of gunshots, rubber bullets hitting bark, the hissing of 3DM gear, and steel cables reeling.

“This kid’s fast!”

“Keep firing!”

The men focus on trying to time their aims to match their target’s speed. However, as Connie reached the unguarded southern side of the cabin, two other figures suddenly appeared from the west and east.

Flying just a few inches from the ground, Eren and Reiner charge toward the guards. Eren aims a spinning kick at the head of the guard at the eastern perimeter, the thrusting force given by his 3DM gear adding more power to his strike. Meanwhile, Reiner, going in head-first with his arm and shoulder angled just below his face, uses his weight and momentum to tackle the guard at the west and pin him to the ground.

The last guard standing momentarily ceases shooting at the sight of his companions being taken down. Seeing the opportunity, Connie reshoots his cables, hooks latching onto the cabin, to the guard’s direction. The man sees him coming and tries to retake aim, but Connie swerves from left to right before barreling into him feet first.

The guard’s rifle clatters away from him, and Connie angles a taped blade against his throat before he can reach out for it.

A moment later, the door of the cabin opens. Instructor Garret exits, a clipboard in hand, and examines the situation.

“Yeager, Springer, Braun.” He addresses his students who continue to hold taped swords against the throats of the subdued guards. “You may now release them. You have successfully passed the practical exam.”

“Yes!” Eren smiles widely before removing his weapon. As he stands upright, he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Eerr… I’m sorry about that.” He says awkwardly as he offers a hand to the pretend-criminal, an assistant instructor dressed in plain clothes.

The man merely smiles even as he gently cradles the side of his head. “It’s alright.” He accepts the offered hand. “After all, you can’t go easy on real criminals.”

Reiner and Connie likewise help the other assistant instructors get back on their feet. After receiving some feedback on their performance and being instructed to tell the next group to prepare, the three classmates make their way back to the edge of the forest where the rest of the groups await.

---

“Alright. Let’s ace this test!” Jean proclaims while stretching his arms. To his right and left, Annie and Armin check on their 3DM gear.

“Good luck!” Eren calls out to the group as they enter the forest. Armin says a quick “thanks” over his shoulder, Jean gives him a wave, and Annie merely looks ahead.

A few feet behind him, his groupmates and other friends sit on a grassy patch of land.

“How’d it go, guys?” Sasha asks as she scoots next to Connie. “Did it go as you planned?”

“We did great!” Connie exclaims happily as he lays back on the ground. “It went exactly as we planned!”

“It did,” Eren remarks as he joins them on the grass. “Actually, it went better than I expected it to. And I have to admit,” he starts to smile more fully, “it was kinda exciting to pair my hand-to-hand combat skills with 3DM gear.”

Reiner lets out an amused huff, "And to think that you used to look down on non-Titan-related training."

The Yeager boy’s smile turns sheepish at that. “Well, it’s a good thing that you made me see sense.” He states, referring to how Reiner had once lectured him that a soldier must be prepared to fight in any situation, especially in ones where running and retreating are not options.

Marco claps at the news, pleased for his friends, “You’ve done well today. And I hope that the rest of us do too.”

"That's an understatement. We were on a roll today! And the best part of it is that I got to shine!” Connie grins broadly as he recalls his diversionary maneuvers. “Instructor Garret and the assistants were impressed by how I used 3DM gear during the test!”

He then turns to his blond groupmate with a teasing look. “I know that you’re usually the star, Reiner. So, I hope you didn't mind that I stole the show today.”

Reiner laughs. “Of course not, Connie. After all, with your speed, you were the best man for that job.”

“You’re damn right that I was!” The Springer boy enthusiastically concurs. “But to be fair,” he takes a calming breath before turning back to Reiner, “It was your idea to have me act as a decoy. So, it was thanks to you that I got to be the star!”

Reiner shakes his head even as he smiles. “You shone because of your own skill, Connie. I just knew when and where it would come in handy.” The broad-shouldered blonde then turns to Eren, “Just like how I knew when Eren’s skill in hand-to-hand training would be useful in taking down an armed attacker in that situation.”

“Well, in any case, Connie and I were lucky to have you in our group, Reiner.” Eren grins. “We’re glad we could count on you!”

“Yeah!” Connie chimes in, “And I can’t wait to work with you when we finally join the Military Police! We’re gonna show them what we’re made of, right?!”

Reiner briefly stills at their praising, but he eventually laughs. “Yes, we will.”

---

End Note: So, that's Chapter 15! What do you guys think? Please let me know! As always, comments, reviews, and critiques are most welcome and will be most appreciated!

Also, the next chapter is already in the works. It's still a draft, but it's pretty long already. Like, it exceeds 10K words. I'm thinking about what to do once I'm done with it. Should I split it into two chapters? Or should I post it in its entirety as one chapter? What do you guys think?

[lookotherway]

Always accuse touya as an unreliable narrator but never accuse endeavor as one? Sure, let's keep doubting the victim rather than the abuser. Also, don't put rei and endeavor at the same position. You all endeavor defenders are disgusting, always try to "share" his abuse to any other Todorokis including the wife he slapped and threw to the floor.

pfft ya probably new to my blog aren't ya? finding this through that 'for archive purpose' post? yeah i said i'm endeavor’s lawyer so you probably haven't read through my bnha tag to see how much i pushed his red head down the bucket for shits he has done, same with dabi. and how much i tried to smooth his characterization out, same with dabi.

endeavor is an unreliable narrator too, because his character writing is inconsistent. but well i saw him reflects his shits and genuinely trying to fix his family in the way that it will not benefit him while i saw dabi’s bitching about being more of a victim, being superior to another victim who’s his brother shouto, in addition he’s also a bastard terrorist, homicide and also had sent a villain after his brother natsuo. who do you think i would incline to? fuyumi? well even fuyumi wants to stop dabi and mend her family.

honestly, you talk like my father who once told me “nurture is the job of one person, not two”. and wow that shit reminds me a lot of endeavor/rei vs my parents.

when i said rei and enji didn’t know how to be good parents, i mean every single word of it. who the fuck agreed to bear children in regard of a selfish, risky contract can be considered as good parents, both or either the father and the mother? now, it’s not that i disregard Rei’s situation. it is because Rei said it herself that she made choice of her own accord aka into this marriage (or you want to say she’s another unreliable narrator too?) that i’m holding her to her words. understand what that means? it means in this situation regarding touya, i put rei and enji in the same position as parents of four kids first and foremost, then abuser and abused shall go after. 

i despite the most the kind of parents who either think their kids as insurance or think they can have kids for whatever selfish reason without even preparing themselves some parental knowledge. what do you think raising children is? like raising dog or pet or like a picnic day? like a simple contract witnessed by law? like the result of a quirk marriage without even consulting a doctor before that?

alright, it’s clear that rei did better job than enji in being a parent (in that 13 years), but she wasn’t perfect. if she’s perfect, she would have know words to assuage touya. if she’s perfect, she wouldn’t agree to a quirk marriage. if she’s perfect, touya wouldn’t be such a brat who dared to insult his mother. there, rei wasn’t perfect, she didn’t prepare herself enough when stepped in a risky contract like that, a contract that involves lives of innocent children. that’s why i said rei and enji were tweedledum and tweedledee the moment they agreed to this marriage, and that moment started every fucking thing.

parental, you hear that, PARENTAL.

not being a good parent doesn’t automatically make you an abuser.

of course, ignore that detail all you want, i don’t. that thing adds more layer to rei’s characterization, i just address it and say nothing disregard her abuse situation or endeavor’s shits. rei is a good-written character, albeit not much writing was made about her.

and yeah i doubt everyone until proven innocent, i just don’t shout it to others’ face. human is nuance, if you just bluntly believe or hate someone without thinking sevenfold carefully, or without some solid evidence, you will eventually hurt yourself and someone else.

p/s: stop intermingling real life and 2D pixel.

p/s 2: btw you said “always”? so there are more people who thought that too? may i have the links?