#not to sound too self important but i really dont want my absence in their eternal afterlife be an eternal bummer

[alibonbonn]

Of all mythological characters, Thetis' grief resonates the most with me. The loss of her son is so final, more final than mortals losing each other- mortals might still meet each other in the land of the dead when all comes to pass. Somehow her sorrow feels the most like grieving a loved one who was of a different religion, you know what I mean? Like...we're not going to the same place! and I hope they've made peace with that before their time.

[c-optimistic]

Great! I asked because if you didnt take prompts I wanted to be respectful of it, also okay if you dont feel like doing it or if you take your time, I admire and appreciate all your work. It's an angsty one😅 after the supergirl reveal, all the events and their drifting apart, Kara and Lena are rekindling their friendship, kara tells lena she's in love with her, lena confesses her feelings too but tells kara that after everything they cant be more than friends, angst here, then a happy ending 😁

“You’re my Lois,” she said softly, almost to herself. 

(It had been on her mind for days and weeks and months now, words she was afraid to fully verbalize, thoughts and feelings she wasn’t sure she quite wanted to string into something coherent. 

But now, in the silence, in their solitude, the words slipped out as easy as breathing, slipped out without her consent, her knowledge, her desire.)

Lena didn’t turn towards her, just wrapped her arms tighter around herself to stave off the chilly bite of the air. “I don’t know what that means,” she finally offered, voice terribly soft, eyes still focused on the city lights below them. 

(National City was beautiful in the fall. Parks turned orange and yellow and red, pumpkins and cartoon turkeys and the strong scent of cinnamon could be found on every street corner. Jackets got dusted off and pulled on, scarves wound their way around people’s necks, the smell of hot chocolate seemed to permeate the air. 

And Lena looked at home in the fall. Her hair was down more often than not, gentle curls framing her face. She was wrapped in soft sweaters and warm colors, looking gentler, calmer, more at ease.

And she was, in every way, Kara’s Lois.) “It’s...I—well.” Explaining was harder than she thought. Giving meaning to what she said was harder than she expected. “You’re the one I’d spin the world the opposite direction for, you know?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Kara,” Lena scoffed, turning away from the city and meeting Kara’s eyes briefly before walking through the sliding glass doors and back into her apartment. Kara followed sullenly behind. “What good would that even do?” “Turns back time,” Kara joked softly, watching Lena pour herself a glass of wine. Once maybe, days and weeks and months ago, she would have offered Kara a glass as well. Now she just set the bottle aside and sipped slowly, as if daring Kara to comment. “Why would you want to turn back time for me? And what does this have to do with Lois?” She seemed genuinely confused, and Kara realized she needed to be more direct. 

(In and of itself, it was a scary thought. She didn’t want to confess her feelings and be rebuffed. She didn’t want to tell the truth and leave herself open to...what, pain? A lack of reciprocation? Laughter at her expense?

And yet, and yet...Lena was her Lois, and she was worth it all the same.)

“What I’m trying to say,” Kara tried again, biting on her lip as she attempted to find the right words, beginning to think there were only three, not quite sure how to gather the courage to say them. “Remember Mon-El?” she said, switching tactics.

“Vaguely,” Lena responded, amused. She walked over to her kitchen, pulled out a kettle, a mug, and a packet of hot chocolate mix (an item she only kept at her place because she knew about Kara’s preference for it over tea). “What about him?” she asked as she put the water to boil, raising her eyebrow and looking at Kara expectantly. 

“When I sent him away, chose to save everyone over keeping him, Clark told me he could never do that,” Kara explained, that moment etched into her memory, inescapable and dare she say profound in the absence of feeling. “He said if it came down to keeping Lois or the world...well, he wouldn’t know what to do.”

Lena looked down, focusing on pouring the boiling water into the mug and adding the hot cocoa mix, stirring it in slowly. “Oh,” she whispered finally, pushing the mug towards Kara, “that’s what you mean about my being your Lois.”

“Lena, I—”

“—to be honest, though,” Lena interrupted, frowning, “I don’t think you have a Lois.” 

(Well, if anything could make those three words Kara wanted to say shrink back into their shell, it was that.

And for it to be said so casually, so abruptly, so utterly convincingly, as though there wasn’t any doubt in Lena’s mind. Well. That more than hurt, that felt vaguely offensive.)

“That’s so—”

“—you’re too,” Lena waved her hands, struggling with finding a word, “honorable,” she finally settled on. “You believe in duty, in sacrifice, in putting everyone before you.” She smiled, looking inexplicably proud, and picked up her wine glass, taking a small sip. “You’re too selfless. If it came down to it, Kara, you’d break your own heart a thousand times over for the world.” 

Kara blinked, wondering how Lena misinterpreted her. “No, Lena, I’m saying—”

“—no, I know,” Lena interrupted, setting her wine aside and walking over to stand in front of Kara, so close that Kara could practically smell the alcohol on Lena’s breath. Rather than meet Lena’s eyes, Kara kept her gaze on the ceiling. “And I love you, too. But we’re not Clark and Lois.” 

(And oh, Lena got it. She got it and she was braver than Kara, laying the words out there, giving the feelings between them a name, finally, finally, calling it what it was.

Love. She loved Lena.)

“I don’t pull off the suit as well as he does, I know,” Kara joked sadly, eyes still on the ceiling, knowing where Lena was going with this. 

(It was too soon. It was too much. It was too hard.)

“Kara,” Lena admonished, forcing Kara to meet her gaze. Kara’s vision was a little blurred, so she wasn’t quite sure if those were tears in Lena’s eyes or if her allergies were just working up again. “We can’t,” Lena told her, voice trembling. 

“Right. No. Of course.”

“Kara, after everything, being friends is hard enough, do you really—”

“—I said I got it,” Kara interrupted, blinking, horrified when her vision cleared and she felt something wet roll down her cheeks. She was crying. Crying. How utterly embarrassing. 

(She looked away again, unwilling to see pity in Lena’s expression, unwilling to confirm for herself that what was welling up in Lena’s eyes was indeed allergies. 

She looked away again, because she was willing to break her heart a thousand times over for the world, but she didn’t know how to cope with her breaking heart now.)

“I’m just.” She stopped, heaved a breath, and nodded curtly. “Just friends sounds good. But I’m going to go now.” She stepped back from Lena, practically power-walked towards the balcony door, stopping only when she felt something tug on her cape.

“Kara,” Lena began, but Kara didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. Whatever courage Lena had been on when she’d managed to say the words Kara couldn’t seemed to fade, however, and she released her grip on Kara’s cape and pulled back. “You pull the suit off way better than him, don’t sell yourself short.” 

(It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, Kara didn’t need the uptick of Lena’s heartbeat or the soft, regretful sigh she released a moment after the words escaped her lips. 

It wasn’t what Lena wanted to say, but it was what she did say, and Kara managed nothing more than a strangled laugh in response, taking off into the night and leaving Lena and a mug of hot chocolate untouched behind her.)

xxx

The next time she saw Lena was at game night.

(This was not for a lack of trying on Lena’s part. She’d invited Kara to lunch, to coffee, to a variety of science-related events—even Lena’s TED Talk—but Kara had declined them all, citing work or Supergirl-catastrophes.

Finally, Lena had sent a text reading just hmph, and Kara had spent the rest of the afternoon asking Nia if it was a good or bad hmph.) 

Game night, however, Kara couldn’t avoid. Namely, because it was at her own apartment. She had managed to avoid directly inviting Lena, resorting instead to a group chat message, something that had Nia shaking her head and muttering “children.” 

(And rationally, Kara knew better. She knew that she was supposed to be a better friend, that they were working on repairing their tattered and bruised friendship, that they needed to reestablish all those lines of communication and trust that had been burned to the ground. 

She knew, but she struggled. She struggled with the thought of looking at Lena and not thinking about how much she loved her, not thinking that Lena felt the same way, not thinking that had she been better—a better friend, a more honest friend, a kinder friend—then there would have been nothing in the way of her reaching out to take Lena by the hand, tug her forward, chase her lip, and—

Well. All those were things she was determinedly not trying to think of.) 

She was a bit of a mess by the time Lena arrived, looking as beautiful and breathtaking as ever, a bag of takeout in her hand, an unsure smile on her lips. 

“Are you sure?” Lena whispered, not entering Kara’s apartment. “If this is too much—”

“—I want you here,” Kara cut in, not really embarrassed by how desperate she sounded. Because now that she was looking at Lena, she forgot why she had wanted to maintain distance in the first place. Self-preservation no longer seemed very important to her. “I always want you with me.” 

“As a friend,” Lena added, cheeks flushed, suddenly very interested in her shoes, her heart pounding away, teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

Kara wasn’t sure what it all meant. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. So instead, she responded with the honesty she should’ve afforded Lena sooner—the honesty her best friend was owed. “In any capacity you’ll have me,” she said.

Lena didn’t respond, but as she walked by to enter Kara’s apartment, the fingers of her free hand ran over the inside of Kara’s hand, barely brushing over Kara’s palm, really, and it was like an electric shock, leaving Kara paralyzed to the spot until Alex took pity on her and unrooted her—physically dragging her over to the food and games.

(And the entire night, as Kara flexed the hand Lena touched repeatedly, she noticed that every time she looked over at Lena, Lena was already looking at her.

And the entire night, as Nia muttered “children” under her breath, Kara began to hope.)

xxx

As the weeks dragged on and Lena showed no signs of wanting anything to evolve between them, much of that hope evaporated. She was only holding onto the last tendrils when she had to show up at L-Corp (again) to stop some madman’s mad henchmen from trying to kill Lena (again). 

When the men were appropriately stopped and detained, Kara found herself on the balcony with Lena (again), staring out at the city (this too, again). Lena wasn’t drinking anything, and she wasn’t dressed in her soft sweaters. Instead, she was wearing a navy suit, hair pulled tightly back, hands in her pockets as she leaned against the balustrade, eyes on Kara. 

“You took awhile to get here,” Lena finally said, and Kara turned to her, a little offended.

“There was a fire, Lena. I had to make sure it was out before—”

“—but I thought I was your Lois?” she interrupted, with more than a little snark. Kara straightened, standing at her full height as she approached Lena.

“First of all, low blow. Secondly, you said it yourself, I don’t have a Lois. Maybe you need to find a less honorable friend,” Kara told her, eyes narrowed. 

Lena didn’t look sorry. If anything, she seemed...content. “I’ve been thinking about it, you know?” She tugged her hands out of her pockets, and Kara thought her heart slammed to a halt when Lena reached out and placed her hands on Kara’s shoulders, drawing her in. “I think the truth is,” she continued, hands sliding across Kara’s shoulders, interlocking behind Kara’s neck, “you’re my Lois. Because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you, even give up a chance at something more, something I really want, because I was scared it wouldn’t work and I’d lose you completely.” 

“Something you really want, huh?” Kara said, her heart jumpstarting at the feeling of Lena’s fingers against her neck, at the way Lena’s thumbs rubbed gently against the base of her skull, at the way Lena leaned up, pressing their foreheads together. “Are you still scared?”

“Terrified,” Lena breathed. “But I figure I could be a little more like you, potential heartbreak and all.”

Kara tried to nod, managing nothing more than gently head-butting Lena and making her laugh. “We probably need to figure out a better way to describe how we feel about each other, I think my cousin and Lois may get concerned—”

“—Kara?” Lena interrupted, pulling away just a bit.

“Yeah?”

“We can definitely talk about this if you want. Or you could just kiss me. Whichever you prefer.” 

(In the end, it was an easy choice.

And judging from the way Lena sighed into her mouth, she felt the same way.)

[starlightshadowsworld]

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :)  )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you." 

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm. 

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father. 

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite. 

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him. 

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already. 

For Percy though, this was the end of the line. 

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur. 

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement. 

Percy. 

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet. 

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling. 

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of  cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly. 

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would. 

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that. 

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with. 

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life. 

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could. 

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.” 

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could. 

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.” 

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working. 

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the  transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from. 

The Ministry. 

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond. 

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand. 

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said. 

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind. 

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen. 

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that. 

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again. 

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again. 

[dokoni-mo]

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 5.5)

(IMPORTANT A/N PLEASE READ: oh boy am i nervous to post this,, hello everyone!! this is my first time ever writing smut!! this chapter is basically a continuation upon the previous chapter of the series that I have been working on. You could consider this chapter to be an OVA chapter of sorts... I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether or not this chapter is cannon to the story or not. With that being said, this chapter has very little to do with the story of the series. But, I still tagged all my normal people in the list since it is technically part of the series (if you don’t want to be tagged for things like this, please tell me and i’ll remove you!!). I also wanna give a big shoutout/thanks to @hxldmxdxwn​ (pls dont be mad for me tagging you,,) for giving me some advice for writing smut and being a huge inspo for me!! Thank you so much :)))) Anyway, if you are not interested in smut or don’t like smut, feel free to overlook this chapter!! Our regularly scheduled programming will be continued soon. However, if you do read on, I do hope you enjoy what you see!! have fun ;) ))) 

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

Chapter Five: [x]

WARNINGS: SMUT!!!! light dom/sub references, usage of titles, fingering, force-bonding, inappropriate usage of the force, cursing, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~4700

~~

Much to your dismay, the song that you and him had danced to eventually met it's inevitable end. 

The pair of you stood a moment longer in each other’s arms as you heard the music slowly fade into the muffled chatter of nobility and officers saying their adieu as they left the venue, the tiredness of the night creeping its way onto their bones. You felt a quick wash of sadness swim overtop of you as your ears confirmed that the song was over, making you frown slightly. Lingering your head upon his taunt chest for a moment longer, your face assumed a soft smile as you looked up at him, laced with a hint of nervousness and awkwardness as you tried to figure out what to say to him This task proved difficult, however, since you knew you had to say something, but you had no idea as to what that something would be. 

Hey, that was pretty neat? No way. There’s no way you’d be able to sleep at night if you said that. 

Thanks? No! That was just rude. 

Hey I really like you even though you are kinda intimidating and could totally snap me in half right here and right now but hey at least you would have touched me? This one was pretty self explanatory. 

“I… I never took you for such a good dancer.” You eventually settled on saying, your cheeks reddening as your eyes twinkled up at him. It was a decent thing to say, you figured. It was in no way a lie, and you had even thrown in a friendly joke. A fine performance.

“And I have never taken you as one to accept such things.” Lord Vader responded to you, his grip upon your tiny frame not faltering for even a moment. His hold was strong, stable, supportive, solid, and a plethora of other things that started with s. Some of which, however, lingered on the… indecent side of things. 

Letting a small giggle escape your lips, you made no attempt to quip back at him as you stared into the eyes of his mask. You had wished that the lenses were at least somewhat transparent within that moment. You craved to see his eyes as they burned into your own, letting you see every emotion that lingered in them as he looked upon you. If you were a braver person, you would reach up and take off the plate of metal yourself.

Alas, you were not. 

After a moment of looking upon him, you let your gaze fall to the panel of buttons upon his stomach, a small smile painting your lips as you snaked your hand from behind his back to let your hand rest upon the armor of his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the square of buttons. 

“I should…” you began, your eyes still locked  upon the panel of buttons before you, “I should probably start getting ready for bed. We still have to… mingle in the morning, and-” 

“No.” He spoke quickly, almost too quickly, as he cut you off, his voice a touch louder than it should have been.

“(F/N)...” he began, his voice sounding so much deeper than normal to you, “please… stay here. Stay with me.” 

Before you could even think, you felt his arm that was wrapped around your waist slowly retreat and the hand that was in yours unlatch itself. His large hands eventually found their new home upon your ribcage just below your armpits, his grip as strong and sturdy just as before, perhaps even a touch more. Lord Vader’s hands were quite big as they rested upon your tiny body, the expanse of his palms nearly engulfing you whole. Feeling the sheer size of his hands around you, your cheeks flushed deeper pink as you bit your lip, trying to control your indecent thoughts. 

“O-Okay…” you stammered out, still refusing to meet his intense gaze upon your face. Not knowing what else to do with your hands, you rested them gingerly upon the underside of his muscular, leather-bound arms, your thumbs roaming the surface of the material for any feeling of flesh you could make out below it. 

After a long moment of the sith lord holding you in place in silence, you heard his breathing hitch in his respirator as his hands started to travel down your body. Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, his strong, gargantuan hands made their way to rest upon your hips, his thumbs starting to rub the bone below your skin.

This in no way helped to coax your blush down or to stop the scandalous thoughts that plagued your mind. 

Without even telling yourself to do so, you lifted your hands from their position on his arms to rest upon the large expanse of his chest, the tips of your fingers hiding underneath the plate of metal that adorned his shoulders in order to get even a fraction closer to the skin beneath. You felt your inner temperature rise at the thought of seeing the man underneath the familiar armor. 

“(F/N),” He rumbled out from behind his mask, a distant purr within the depths of his voice, “Have I ever told you how breathtakingly... alluring I find you?” 

You swallowed thickly at his words, your cheeks nearly reaching a boiling point in heat. You paused for a moment to make sure that you were still alive before you could respond, your hands tensing upon his chest. 

“I-I find you alluring too, Vader…” you responded, still refusing to make eye contact with the dark lord. What you had said was in no way a lie. From the very first moment that you had lain eyes upon Lord Vader, you had always held an odd attraction to him. You had always wondered what it would feel like to have his hands upon you, what it would sound like to hear his voice call out your name. 

This was the perfect time for you to feed into your curiosity. Never in a million years did you expect to be there in that moment, locked tight in the sith lord’s grasp, his hands on your hips. Your body was so very hot, so very in need.

“(F/N).” You hear Lord Vader say, the usage of your name sending a shiver of cold down your heated spine. Before you could register what was happening, you felt the grip on your hips tighten as he pulled you closer to his much larger body, your frame now flush up against his. Beneath your soft skin, you could feel the faint warmth of his body underneath the suit drawing you into him, beckoning for you to merge into one with the dark lord. The feeling of the leather bounding his body rubbing against your skin made the hair stand up on your arms, your legs almost wobbling at the amount of power and authority that radiated off of him. 

It was intoxicating. 

Exasperating.

Thrilling. 

Nerve-wracking. 

You craved more. 

But… 

“V-Vader we…” you began to say, your eyes still trained on his chest before you, “We can’t-” 

“Do not try and shy yourself away from me, (F/N).” said Lord Vader, the grip he had upon you tightening in case you tried to push your body away, “I sense your desire… Your desire for me. Do not try and fool yourself.” 

You bit your lip again as you nodded, still unable to look up at him. You were embarrassed, but you didn’t exactly know why. 

“Besides…” he continued on, removing one of his hands from your hip. You would have been sad at the absence of his touch if he did not replace it so soon after. Finding it's new home upon your chin, Lord Vader wrapped his fingers around the bone firmly yet gently, lifting it up to make you look at nothing but him, right in the eyes. 

“Are you in any position to tell your superior what he can and can not do with his subordinate, Miss (F/N)?” he asked you rhetorically, the purr in his voice rattling you to the core. Your face, as well as your entire being, was on fire at this point. You swallowed thickly but silently as your eyes were forced to look into his, your want of seeing his real ones growing and growing the longer you searched for them. 

“N-No, my Lord…” you were able to whisper out as you felt your mind go blank with nothing else but need. 

Pausing to inspect your face a moment longer, Lord Vader eventually removed his hand from your chin, using it instead to stroke a lock of your hair on the side of your head. 

“Good girl…” he purred out, making your breath stammer as it escaped your lungs. 

With this, he took his hands off of you in order to stand up fully straight, his figure looming over you as his gaze bore into your eyes. The absence of his touch upon your body making you feel cold, you looked up at him with pleading eyes, a small frown painting your lips. He was so much taller than you, making you feel so, so small by comparison. His frame engulfed you whole, and you bathed in every moment of it. 

“Now, allow me to take care of you, (F/N).” 

He nodded his head slowly to his side. 

“Get on the bed.” 

With barely a moment’s hesitation, you followed his order to the mark. Keeping your gaze down, you bit your lip as you kicked off your boots and rolled onto the bed, sitting such that your knees were slightly bent at obtuse angles and your back was rested against the headboard of the bed. Your face still flushed, you looked over to the tall, looming sith lord across the room, waiting for him to come and take you. 

Sensing that you were in a good position, Lord Vader turned to face you, taking his sweet time making his way over to the bedside. 

You wanted to whine and scream about how slow he was being. The worst part about it, you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

How cruel. 

Unable to keep his gaze off of you, he slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, the metal and wood of it's frame groaning beneath his weight. 

“(F/N),” he said, his tone deep yet somehow patient, “Are you scared?” 

The question took you aback for a moment, making you stir in place. Pursing your lips, your gaze dropped for a moment before you stammered out your response. 

“A-A little… It's… been a long time, since I…” 

“I see.” Lord Vader responded without you having to finish. 

He knew exactly what you meant. 

“You do not need to worry, my sweet… I promise that I will not hurt you.” he rumbled out as he slowly shifted his weight, earning another groan from the bedding beneath. His size making you slip down so that you were laid on the bed, you noticed how his cape draped over his shoulders as he pinned you to the mattress, acting as a veil to shield you from the outside world. 

A curtain of him. 

The sheer size of the man on top of you made you realize just how large he was. You felt so tiny, so small compared to the mass of his arms and chest. Feeling the heat radiate off your face as you looked up at him, all you knew to do with yourself was to look dumbly into this mask, eager for his next move. 

It came in and took your breath away. 

“Undress yourself. Don’t stop until I say so.” 

Maker, he had barely even touched you, and you were already so in need of him. 

Following his command, you lifted your hands from resting on either side of your head to find their place upon the seam of your uniform’s coat. Your fingers trembling slightly, you undid the buttons of your coat, slipping it off as best as you could while being pinned underneath Lord Vader. Your eyes focused on taking off your uniform, you could feel his gaze upon you as you slowly exposed more and more of your skin to him, your ears filled with nothing but the rustle of cloth and his breath. Biting your lip, you slid your tank-top off of your torso and threw it to the side, leaving you in nothing but your bra to cover your top half. You shuddered as the cold air around you crept it's way upon your body.

With another faint moment of hesitation, you slid your hands downwards to the him of your uniform pants, curling your fingers to ready yourself to take it off. 

“No.” You heard him say before you could finish the job, “I will do that part myself. You may stop.” 

Obeying his wishes, you returned your hands to rest of either side of your head, your gaze returning to meet his mask. Without him even doing anything, you were already a mess beneath him. Your skin was glossed from the dew that expelled itself from your person as you heated up, your breath coming out in soft, silent pants. 

Maker above did he drink in the sight of you. 

You were so pretty beneath him, looking at him like that. 

The best part? 

You were absolutely, unquestionably, undoubtedly, undeniably, his. 

And his only. 

Shifting his weight over to one of his arms, he lifted up his free hand, resting it upon your stomach. Of course, his hand was humongous as it laid upon your skin, nearly stretching the entire expanse of your middle. The feeling of the cool leather made you let out a silent gasp, a twinge of embarrassment bubbling in the back of your mind. Lord Vader trailed up and down your stomach and side for a good while before traveling up further, your eyes fixated on the movements of his hand. 

Feeling his fingertips poke their way under the wiring of your bra, you couldn’t stop yourself as you lifted up your hands to your face, hiding yourself underneath them as a result of your inexplicable embarrassment. 

Lord Vader did not like this. 

“No.” Lord Vader demanded. Without warning, you felt the ghost of a pull upon your wrists, forcing them back into their original position by your head no matter how much you fought against it. Your mind confused for a moment, you quickly deduced that it must have been him. His power. 

“You will not hide yourself from me.” He continued on, stopping any movements of his hands, “Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes… Yes, I’m sorry.” you gasped out in between your pants, your legs squirming for him to keep going. 

Even though he said nothing in response, he must have been satisfied with the answer since he continued his movements. Through the sheer strength of his fingers, Lord Vader pushed past the wiring of our bra, cupping your breast in his large hand. 

Just the feeling of his engrossing touch upon your breast made you let out a soft moan, causing you to bite your lip in surprise. You were beyond turned on at this point, wanting nothing more than for him to just keep going. 

Letting out a few more soft, quiet moans as he begun to knead your breast in his palm, you finally mustered enough courage to look up into his mask. Of course, the metal offered you no way of telling what exactly he was thinking, but offered you a source to give your needy, lust-laced gaze to. 

You felt so good. 

You felt so good because of him. 

You knew that you would want him for the rest of time. 

You knew that only he would ever make you feel like this again and again. 

Eventually deciding that enough was enough, Lord Vader removed his hand from your breast and out from under your bra, his removal causing the fabric to go back onto your body at an odd angle. The absence of his massages made you whine, looking up at him pleadingly to touch you again. 

Your requests were eventually met as he trailed the tips of his fingers down from your breast to your stomach to the hem of your uniform pants, the gentle touches earning themselves another shudder out of you. 

Wrapping his fingers around the hem, the dark lord stopped himself for a moment to look upon your face. Satisfied with your expression of want and need, he pulled down the cloth wrapping around your legs, discarding it without any ounce of care about it or where it landed. This night was surely full of surprises. You had never thought that  you would ever be sprawled out underneath Lord Vader in only your bra and panties.

But, there you were. 

You barely had any time to react before he made you gasp out another moan, his leather-bound fingers rubbing up and down the cloth that covered your aching, dripping core. Continuing his actions, you began to squirm and whimper for him to remove your panties. Your legs kicked and shuffled as moans and whines left your throat, making you sound so pitiful as you gripped onto his cape, the fabric soft in your fingers. 

“Quiet.” He rumbled out as he stopped him movements, focusing one hard press against the cloth that covered your clit. Opening your mouth in a silent gasp, you quickly shut it as your forced yourself to stay still, not wanting to find out what would happen were you to disobey him. 

Satisfied with your submission, Lord Vader must have decided that you were ready for him fully. Reaching his fingers up, he latched the waistband of the fabric around his large digits, so very achingly slowly pulling it down past your thighs, knees, and feet. 

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you felt your panties fall off your person, earning another shudder from the cold. Lord Vader’s breath had started to pick up the pace as he loomed down over your body. 

He was… pleased. 

So very pleased. 

Never had seen such a beautiful sight sprawled out underneath him. 

Wanting him. 

Needing him. 

Deciding to be so gracious as to entertain your needs, he swiped his leathery middle and pointer finger up the length of your folds, the slick coming from them coating the digits instantly, earning another low, shallow moan from you. Amused by this, Lord Vader brought his soaked fingers up closer to his mask, inspecting how the liquid shined in the soft glow of the dim lighting surrounding the pair of you. 

“I am most impressed, Miss (F/N),” he said to you, turning his attention back to your reddened face, “Already this in need, and I have barely even begun.” 

Cue another whine to escape from behind your lips, your hands gripping and kneading on his cape. 

“Vader… please... “ you whined softly, your eyes full of pitiful gleam, “I need you so badly…” 

Returning his hand to rest between the folds of your core, he pressed his middle and pointer finger against your entrance, another moan shooting out of your lungs. 

“As you wish, Miss (F/N).” 

Slowly but surely, Lord Vader pushed the tip of his leather-bound middle finger into your core, your walls fluttering in your excitement. A flurry of moans and gasps left your person as he continued to push inside of you, only stopping once you were filled. He paused for a moment to let you get adjusted before he began to push his digit in and out of your core, the sounds of this action downright sinful to hear. 

You were a mess beneath him. As he gingerly started to increase his pace, your mind started to go blank as the pleasure overwhelmed you, a flurry of moans, gasps, and pleads escaping from your lungs. All you could think about was him, how good you felt because of him. 

You wanted him for the rest of time. 

You wanted him to keep going for the rest of time. 

Deciding that you in no way have had enough, you groaned as he pushed his pointer finger inside of you, right alongside his middle one. The stretching of your walls almost made you scream in pleasure, your nails digging in to the fabric of his cape. You could have sworn that you had seen stars. 

“So eager…” You heard him say in between your moans and quiet pleads, “So ready to receive me…” 

Leaning down to get closer, you unconsciously reached up and wrapped yours arms around his broad shoulders the best you could, your fists bunching up the fabric of his cape. 

Turning his mask to rest near your ear, a ripple of pleasure ran through your body as you heard Lord Vader speak, his tone deeper and darker than ever before. 

“Such a good girl.” 

Before you could blubber out a response, you felt his fingers curl themselves inside of you, hitting right on the spot that made your whole body shake with pleasure. The rate of your moans picking up, the pace of which the finger-fucked you did as well, eventually leading him to add a third finger to the mix. Every single noise that was coming from your body could have made the filthiest porn star ever blush. Your moans were so very desperate, and the sound of your core’s juices being mixed with the rapid pace of his fingers filling the space the pair of you shared. 

Reaching up with his thumb, Lord Vader started to rub circles into your clit, making you moan out his name almost too loudly. He seemed to be pleased by this, since you had noticed that his pace had started to quicken as his breathing became more and more rapid. Seeing a way to maximize the amount of pleasure you could get, you continued to moan out his name, sometimes even accompanied by his title. The usage of Lord Vader would cause him to rumble out quiet groans from behind his mask, the bass making your chest rattle. 

His pace reaching a feverous state, you could feel the knot building up in your vagina grow tighter and tighter as it promised an up-coming release. This promise only made your already over-stimulated body shake and shudder with more and more pleasure, the sounds escaping your mouth proof of such.

“I sense that you are close.” Lord Vader said to you, your mind barely able to process the words. 

You nodded your head quickly, a mumble of strings of pleases and don’t stops falling from your lips in place of a sentence. 

“(F/N)...” he groaned, his gaze boring into the fiber of your being. 

Without any warning, you began to feel a buzz from inside of you. This was different from the knot you felt growing tighter and tighter, but it felt as if it came from no where. It felt as if it came directly from your soul, the very source of your existence. Your brow flexing in fuzzy confusion, you were perplexed until you felt a new sensation. It felt as if your very soul was reaching out, making branches to do as such. 

Reaching out to him. 

And you felt his own reach back. 

The sheer rush of it all was too much to bear. The feeling of his fingers force themselves in and out of you so quickly. The feeling of his thumb circling your clit. The feeling of his force bonding your energy and his together. 

It was euphoric. 

It was pure bliss. 

“That’s it, my sweet,” you heard him call to you, “Let go. Let go for your lord. Let go for me.”

Your orgasm raked itself over your body in waves, making your legs shake and the grip you had upon his cape tighten, turning your knuckles white. You almost screamed out his name as your walls fluttered around his digits, coating them further in your fluids. 

Oh, how he loved it.

Eventually coming down from your high, you laid there for a long moment beneath the dark lord, his fingers halting to a pause inside of you. His breath was quite ragged as he remained still, almost matching your own pants for air as he gazed upon your body. 

Once you had stopped shaking from pleasure, he slowly slid his fingers from out of your core, sending one last wave of euphoria through your nerves. 

You looked up at him with glossy eyes and a dumb, open-mouthed smile as the back of his knuckles brushed against your cheek, moving any stray hairs out of your face. 

He would never admit it, to anyone, but the sight of you beneath him, with that big, dopey, loving smile on your face, your souls freshly bonded together, was the most beautiful thing that he had ever witnessed. 

After a long pause of simply admiring your face and body, he finally spoke. 

“Get some rest, my dear. We have matters to attend to in the morning.” 

You were confused for a moment as you felt his weight lift off of you, the bed creaking in relief as he stood. A pang of weary sadness rippled through you as you watched him start to leave, walking over the pieces of your uniform that littered the floor. Eventually able to process what was happening, you reached out to him, grabbing on to the fabric of his cape to keep him from moving away any further. 

“W-wait,” you said, your lungs still panting for air, “please, d-don’t go… Will you please stay? With me? At least until I fall asleep…?” 

After a brief pause, Lord Vader turned to  you, pointing the face of his mask down to your face. 

Seeing the emotion in your eyes as you reached out to him rustled an old feeling that he had not known for a very long time. In a moment of self-reflection, a reel of his life prior to this moment flashed inside of his mind, reminding him of his past self, alongside every mistake he had ever made

Watching his actions play back to him, he decided something. 

Even though he had left everyone he had ever loved before behind… 

He would not leave you. 

He would stay. 

“Yes.” He said simply as he took your hand into his, holding it as if it were made of the most fragile material in the world. Walking back over to you, he slowly slid down into a seat position upon the bed, earning another groan of protest from the wood beneath. His back against the headboard, he watched as you slid your body close to his own, your warmth reaching his skin beneath all the layers of armor and leather surrounding him, a foreign feeling to the dark lord of the sith. Lord Vader draped his strong, heavy arm over your shoulder as you draped one of your own over his waist, pulling yourself closer to him. 

Nothing was said as you lulled yourself off to sleep, a feeling of security overtaking you as you were held within the arms of the most feared man in the galaxy. 

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666​ , @soullesstaco​ , @arsonistvoyager​ , @robin-obsessed​ , @glitter-rian​ , @captainrexstan​ , @easterncryptid​ , @deviatedwinter​ , @roseangel013bf​ , @danicalifxrnia​ , @dartheldur​ , @finest-trashbag​ , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ , @elongatedmusk-rat​ , @shads121​ 

[dreamy-heichou]

Could you do 55 ‘How do you know my name?’ Please? (i dont care what genre lol) Thank you! 💕💕

Thank you for the ask!! ♥ I’m so sorry it took me so long to write it! 

Since you let me choose the genre I went for pure fluff ;) (since the last prompt was pure angst) I hope you’ll like it!! 💕

22: “How do you know my name?”

************

Levi was used to work until late hours, his job keeping him extremely busy, but today he had been able to leave early for the first time in months. He was looking forward to drinking a good and hot cup of tea, maybe try the blend his sister had offered him for his birthday, the thought of a green, flowery tea relaxing his mind before even tasting it.

When he arrived to his apartment, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. He had thought Mikasa would still be at university at this hour, but then he remembered she didn’t have classes on Tuesday’s afternoons. It could be a good opportunity for them to catch up; they hadn’t had a real conversation in a while, besides the usual small talks necessary between flatmates.

As he entered his living room however, instead of the silky, black hair and almond-shaped ebony eyes he was expecting to see, he was met with two green orbs and messy brown hair tied in a bun. The bag Levi was carrying with him fell on the wooden floor with a loud thump which caught the attention of the man leisurely sitting on the couch.

Levi couldn’t say anything, nor think. His mind was completely blank except for the many visions of the boy he once knew invading his brain and leaving him breathless, one word echoing in his ear until he could hear his own voice say it.

“E-Eren…?”

Levi could feel his throat constricting and an unpleasant burning sensation in his eyes. It took all of his self-control to not start crying here and there, and to not rush into the man’s arms.

How could Eren be here, now, in front of him? Levi had spent so many years thinking about him, so many sleepless nights talking about him with Mikasa, wondering if they would ever see him in this life, comforting each other from his absence. And yet, here he was, sitting in his living room like he owned the place, like he had been here countless of times, and Levi still couldn’t believe his eyes.

He had found him.

“Who are you?” a voice cut through Levi’s thoughts and brought back his focus on the man looking at him with furrowed brows, both suspicion and confusion reflecting in his eyes. “And how do you know my name?”

A shiver went through Levi’s entire body as he processed the words he had just heard and realized what they implied.

Eren didn’t remember.

He was looking him up and down, like he was seeing him for the first time, and that thought hurt Levi more than it should have. A tense silence was surrounding the two men before it was broken by the sound of a door opening and closing, the rustle of plastic bags, and then soft footsteps coming in their direction.

“Levi!?” a feminine voice asked from behind the raven and Levi eventually tore his gaze away from the brunet in front of him to look back at his sister. She seemed to be even more shocked than he had been when finding Eren in their living room, but soon her expression turned guilty. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until later.”

Mikasa went to stand beside Eren, her eyes going back and forth between the two men at her side. Eren had started to relax when she had entered the room and looked relieved now that he had the confirmation she knew who Levi was. The raven, on his side, was still on edge and confused about what was going on. It was perfectly clear Mikasa had known about Eren for some time, but why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she told him that she had found Eren? She knew how much important he was to Levi.

“I finished early,” Levi replied, his voice strained and his hands fisted at his sides.

Mikasa seemed to have noticed his rigid stand, but before she had the time to react and do anything about it, Eren was the first to speak.

“Wait, is that your brother? The one you told me about?” Mikasa nodded, not saying a word, her eyes not leaving Levi’s for a second. Eren looked at him too, curiosity painted all over his face before his lips parted in a huge grin. “He’s totally not like I had imagined!”

Mikasa cringed at what Eren had said, which made Levi squint his eyes at her. What had she been going around telling Eren about him? But that wasn’t what he wanted to know right now, and she probably knew it. She heaved a long sigh before exchanging a few words with Eren, then she moved towards her room, motioning Levi over and closing the door behind him.

“I know what you’re going to say, and trust me, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Eren,” she said as she sat down on her bed, looking more tired than ever.

“Since when?” Levi only asked, sitting beside her, hiding his face in his hands.

“We’ve been in the same class ever since I started university.”

“A little over 2 years, then…” Levi looked at her and she flinched when she saw his expression. He had no idea what she could read on his face, but it was probably a mix between confusion, betrayal and sadness. “Were you even planning on telling me?”

“I- I honestly don’t know,” Mikasa confessed. She put her hand carefully on his, gauging his reaction before putting her head on his shoulder. “He doesn’t remember, Levi,” she whispered, a hint of hurt in her tone.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Levi snorted, trying to mask his own.

Mikasa explained how meeting Eren had been for her, how she had been anxious in the beginning since his memories were gone. However, as they became close friends, she realized it wasn’t important. Memories or not, he was still Eren, and that was all that mattered to her.

She had considered telling Levi about him so many times, but then she would remember their conversations and would become afraid of Levi’s reaction. Before she knew it, she would only invite Eren when she knew Levi was working and had come up with a lie as to why Eren couldn’t be here when her brother was home.

“Not knowing if he’s out there is much worse for me than him not remembering,” Levi told her.

She nodded quietly and they stayed like this for a little longer before Mikasa stood up and went out of her room, Levi on her heels.

“Is everything okay?” Eren asked them the moment they got out. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, suddenly looking out of place, a big contrast to the way he had been sitting comfortably on the couch before Levi arrived. “Should I leave?”

Levi frowned at the question, which made Eren flinch under his scrutinizing gaze. What was it that Mikasa had told Eren? That her brother was an asocial weirdo that didn’t like having strangers in his apartment?

Thanks for that, kiddo, Levi thought as he tried to soften his features.

“It’s fine, you kids can continue whatever the fuck you were doing before I arrived. I’ll just make myself some tea and move to my room.”

Eren seemed to relax at his words before he looked deep in thoughts. Levi wondered what was going on inside his head, no longer being able to read him as he used to; Eren was basically a stranger to him now. Mikasa, however, seemed to understand what he was about to say because she looked at Levi with an apoplectic face before going to stand beside Eren.

“You can stay with us if you want to, you know,” Eren said with a small smile. “I’m finally meeting Mika’s brother, so I’d like to get to know you better if that’s alright with you. Levi, was it?”

“Yeah,” Levi replied, a bit at a loss for words. He was torn between his need to be close to Eren, his curiosity to know him better, and the sickening feeling that the person who mattered the most to him was gone forever.

“I’m Eren, but I guess you already knew that,” the brunet laughed, extending his hand for Levi to shake. He took it carefully, as if he would get burnt at Eren’s touch. “Nice to officially meet you!”

***

After that day, Eren came over to hang out with Mikasa at times Levi would be home too. The three of them would sit in the living room, Eren and Mikasa talking about their days at university, their insufferable teachers and never-ending homework and exams, while Levi would listen to them, drinking his tea. Eren always made sure to include Levi in the conversation, asking for his input or asking about his own day. It was hard for Levi to tell if he was trying to be polite or if he really wanted to know his opinion.

Sometimes Levi would feel out of place between the two young adults, not understanding why he was there in the first place. Then he would look at Eren, at the way he would scrunch his nose when he was upset, the way his eyes would sparkle when he was talking about something he liked, or the way his lips would curve into a smile when he laughed, and he would know. He was there because he wanted to get to know this new version of Eren, because he wanted to see him and be by his side. It was enough for Levi to endure hours of conversations he sometimes didn’t understand because he finally had him back, and it was all that mattered.

Eren wasn’t very different from the boy in Levi’s memories. He was still very passionate, always putting his soul in everything he did, he still had a quick temper and a way of hiding his embarrassment and weaknesses with fake words of confidence, and he still had a strong devotion to the one he loved and cared about. It wasn’t only his features that were similar, his soul was also the same, and that was what Levi tried to focus on.

It hadn’t taken long for Levi to fall for Eren all over again. It was impossible for him to be indifferent to the man’s smiles and passionate eyes. At night, Levi would hear his deep voice whispering in his ears and feel his hot skin against his palms before he would wake up in his bed, cursing his old memories for those strange dreams.

Levi had feelings for Eren, and Mikasa rapidly noticed it.

They had had long conversations during the days Eren wasn’t at their place, talking primarily about the brunet and the way they were feeling about this situation. Mikasa had confessed how anxious she was, worried that one of them would end up hurt in the long run. She had always been very protective of her loved ones, and Levi was only grateful to be one of them in this life.

No matter how worried she was, Mikasa didn’t try to pry into Eren and Levi’s building relationship, and the raven was grateful for that. She would even go to great length to leave them alone sometimes, pretending she had a phone call to make, or going to the bathroom only to return twenty minutes later as if it was normal. She wasn’t being very subtle, but Eren never seemed to find it weird nor mind, and neither did Levi. Those moments when they were alone were the best he would pass in Eren’s company, and every time Levi would make sure to make it up to Mikasa in some ways.

Nothing extraordinary would happen at those times; they would simply talk. When it was just the two of them, Levi would feel like he wasn’t just Eren’s best friend’s brother, but also someone of importance to the brunet. It was impossible for Levi to tell if they were really friends, if Eren enjoyed their moment together like he did, but at least his smile would be directed at him and only him; that alone was enough to satiate him and leave his chest fluttering with warm feelings. The brunet had him wrapped around his little finger without even knowing it, but Levi was content with their situation for now.

***

One Saturday found Levi in a rather sullen mood. Mikasa was away for the whole weekend for some training camp, leaving him alone for two days and ruining what he considered to be the best day of his week. Eren would always come for the entire day on Saturdays, which was enough to categorize it as Levi’s favorite day, but with his sister gone there was no reason for him to see the bright-eyed brunet.

Levi heaved a long sigh as he flipped through the TV channels, hoping to find something remotely interesting to watch and distract him for some part of the day. The moment he decided on a movie he had probably watched several times already, the annoying ringing of his doorbell resonated in the apartment, catching his attention. Who could it be, he wondered, as he reluctantly went to open the door. He hoped it wasn’t one of those salesmen who went door-to-door to promote some useless products or life insurance; he wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of them.

His pissed-off expression immediately softened as he opened the door and took in the person standing in front of him.

“Eren?” Levi asked, failing at hiding the surprise from his voice. “What are you doing here? Mikasa is out of town.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eren said in a soft voice, a nervous smile on his lips. Levi furrowed his brows as he noticed how tense the younger man seemed to be. “Can I come in?”

Levi nodded and moved aside to let Eren in, still confused as to why the brunet had come to his apartment. It was the first time it would be just the two of them, without Mikasa joining them after leaving them alone for a short while. Levi would lie if he said he wasn’t nervous at the idea, but he could also feel his sour mood disappear as the seconds in Eren’s presence ticked by. Why had the brunet such a strong effect on his mood? It was a complete mystery to him.

Eren went towards the living room after removing his shoes, not even checking to see if Levi was following him, as if it was a normal Saturday. However, as Levi went after him, he found the brunet pacing in front of the couch, toying with his hands and nibbling his bottom lip.

“Sit down, kid, I’m getting a headache watching you pace like that.”

Eren jumped at his words, disturbed from his inner turmoil, first frowning in annoyance, then sighing before doing what he was told. Levi raised an eyebrow, confused at his antics, fearing the worst. Why was the brunet acting so weirdly, and why was he here in the first place? A lot of questions whirled around in Levi’s brain, but he kept them to himself before joining Eren on the couch. Now that he couldn’t walk anymore, Eren’s legs were bouncing which quickly annoyed the hell out of the older man.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You look like you’re about to shit your pants,” Levi groaned, putting one hand on Eren’s knee to stop his nervous gesture, startling him in the process. “And now you look constipated. Whatever is on your mind, you better tell me right the fuck now before I–”

“I like you,” Eren blurted suddenly, cutting Levi short.

They both looked at each other for a few seconds, both in shock, Levi trying to process what he had just heard and Eren probably realizing what he had just said. Before Levi had the time to say anything -not that he knew what to say because his brain had completely frozen- Eren let out a groan, his cheeks aflame, before hiding his face in his hands as he stood up.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to say that,” Eren hissed, mortified. He moved some of his fingers to take a peek at Levi through his hands before removing them completely and turning to face Levi. “Fuck that, that’s exactly what I meant.”

Levi blinked a few times while looking at Eren, his mind completely blank. The brunet had his brows furrowed and his eyes were shining with a determination that brought Levi back to the first time he had met Eren, but not in this life. He looked so much like the boy he used to know in that moment, but the more he stared at him, the more he could also detect a twinge of fear mixed with his confident facade. His cheeks and ears were a beautiful shade of red, sign of his embarrassment, which was more specific to the Eren Levi got to know in the past few months.

“Wait,” Levi said, getting out of his daze, “really?”

Levi could feel his own skin getting warmer as the words Eren had said sunk in, the fluttering sensation he had been feeling the last few weeks intensifying tenfold. Eren liked him? He wasn’t imagining all of this? Levi wasn’t doubting Eren’s words, but he was having a hard time believing this was really happening and that the man truly had feelings for him. It felt like this was coming out of nowhere; if there had been signs Levi definitively didn’t see them, so he had to make sure.

“Seriously, Levi?” Eren whined. “I thought I was being super obvious, that’s why I got worried and decided to tell you. And Mikasa told me you could be a little dense, but…” He stopped himself, his eyebrows now knitted in worry, peering at Levi through his eyelashes. “Are you really that oblivious? Or maybe just… not interested…?”

Eren seemed to deflate as he considered it, looking down at his feet with misery painted all over his face. A surge of affection for the man in front of him overcame Levi, and he had to fight the need to cage him between his arms and stroke his hair to reassure him. All confidence the brunet might have had or faked was completely gone now, worry and fear the only feelings left on his tanned face.

At that moment, Levi finally realized what he should have known all along, the thought hitting him like a wave of salt water. Why had he been so hung up on the past when he had found the person he cared the most about in this new life? Why hold on to the old memories of a person that was long gone when he had a living and breathing new version of them sitting right in front of him?

It didn’t matter if Eren would never remember the past, never remember the people they used to be nor everything they had been through together, what mattered was the fact that they were both alive. Who cared about the past when they could have a future together? Who cared about the relationship they used to have when they could build a new one, this time not threatened by death or useless concept like military ranks?

Levi had to let go of the past and concentrate more on the present, on the Eren he could see with his own two eyes and not the one from some distant memories.

“Damn it, Eren,” Levi said in a whisper.

Eren’s gaze was still directed at the ground, his shoulders slouched in defeat, so the raven wasn’t even sure he had heard him. If he had, he could have heard the fond tone Levi had used, or seen the genuine smile gracing his lips as he had said those words. To be sure Eren would hear him this time, Levi stood up and put a hand on the brunet’s cheek, raising his head enough so that they could gaze into each other’s eyes.

“I am shit at this so listen carefully, I won’t say it twice,” Levi warned him.

He watched the different emotions passing on Eren’s face: concern, surprise, then anticipation, hope. Levi’s entire body relaxed as he stared into the infinite pools that were the brunet’s eyes, losing himself in their beautiful shades of green which always made him think of endless fields of grass with an open sky. Levi’s lips twitched upwards, forming a fond smile, the words he had been waiting to say for a lifetime leaving his lips in a whisper.

“I like you.”

Eren’s eyes widened, and Levi’s smile did as well when he saw the brunet’s cheeks becoming even redder than a few minutes ago. Before Levi had the time to analyze the new gleam appearing in Eren’s eyes after his confession, a pair of lips crashed on his and two strong arms surrounded his shoulders, bringing him flush against the man’s body.

Caught off guard, it took Levi a few seconds before kissing Eren back. He could feel the passion emanating from Eren every time their lips met, the desperation, but also the eagerness, all of them making Levi feel dizzy and drunk on the feelings being directed at him. All those nights spent wondering how it would feel like to hold Eren, touch him and kiss him weren’t enough to prepare Levi to the real thing finally happening. He could feel his heart soar and he clung to Eren’s body like a lifeline, needing to feel him closer and closer to his own to get more of that intoxicating feeling.

When they finally parted, both their lips swollen from their intense make out session, Eren was smiling softly at him, his eyes filled with happiness and tenderness. Levi couldn’t help but stare, his breath caught in his throat and his mind in a haze. Eren leaned forward to rest his forehead on Levi’s, gently stroking his cheek as they kept gazing into each other’s eyes.

Something shifted inside of Levi in this moment. It was as if the missing piece of the puzzle he had been looking for had finally found its righteous place in his heart, like the hole in his heart had suddenly disappeared, now filled with endless affection.

For the first time in his life, Levi felt complete.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

1/ >mpreg< wrh won the sunshot campaign, but both his sons still die, so he wants to be repaid. he demands a chosen bride from each sect for his harem and so nhs, jgy, lxc, and even jyl (who is married and left jl as an orphan bc jzx died during the war) and wwx.. he especially wants wwx and so he keeps him separate from the rest, seals his power and brainwashed him, turning him into a pliant bedwarmer whose only job is to provide wrh with more children.

2/ >mpreg< wrh made sure to control his new harem with a tight leash, going so far as to damage their golden cores to weaken them. lwj is going mad bc not only his brother but also his beloved wei ying were taken away to serve wrh. he tried to reach out to other sects, asking them to cooperate to take their hostages back but none of the sects were brave or strong enough to go against wrh, especially after the devastating war.

3/ >mpreg< after thirteen years of gathering intel and strength as well as countless failed infiltration missions, lwj has had enough of it and decided to sneak into nightless city himself. he managed to find his brother and nhs but there were no signs of the others. it broke his heart to see the swollen stomach of his brother as he told him that none of them had seen wwx since he was first taken in. wwx is wrh's favorite, birthing the most children for him out of all of them.

4/ >mpreg< nightless city was crawling with children who look like wrh. lwj told lxc that he's making a plan to help all of them escape. lxc was scared for his children, but didn't object. wrh found out abt lwj sneaking into his castle, but kept hush abt it bc he wants lwj to suffer more. he threatened lxc to act like he was going along with the plan and telling wrh everything or he's going to kill their youngest toddler. he could just put a new one in him, anyway.

5/ >mpreg< lxc just prayed lwj would have enough time to escape when their escape plan fail later. after about a week of hiding in nightless city, lwj stumbled upon a restricted area. he managed to sneak in and he was horrified to find wwx inside, heavily pregnant, but without an ounce of discontent on his face, in fact he looked overjoyed. the man was calmly combing his hair while humming to himself. lwj was so shocked he accidentally made a noise that alerted wei ying of his presence.

6/ >mpreg< "who's there?" wwx immediately grabbed a hairpin for self defense but relaxed when his eyes found it was just lwj. "oh hi lan zhan" he was smiling but it was so unsettling. "why do you hv to sneak in like a mouse? my a-yuan can do better than that when he was five" lwj couldnt move, couldnt say anything. "lan zhan? what's wrong? we haven't met for many years and the first thing you do is sneak into my room and frown at me?"

7/ >mpreg< "wei ying. have to get you out of here" lwj finally uttered. "what? why?" lwj couldnt believe his ears. "why would i want to leave master ruohan and our children?" lwj wished he could just die on the spot. "but- he forced you and the others-" "forced? what are you talking about?" lwj saw wwx was getting agitated and it unnerved him to no end. "if youre coming here just to disturb me then just go!" wwx's voice was getting louder and lwj has no choice but to leave before he was found

8/ >mpreg< a couple weeks later, lwj finally managed to get the last of his plans taken care of. he made a huge distraction that allowed wrh's harem to flee to their designated meeting spot (they came right back in after but lwj never knew that). they could bring the smaller children with their mothers but they would have to leave the older children behind since wrh had had his influence on them already. the only one left was wei ying. he had to get wei ying back no matter what.

9/ >mpreg< lwj didnt care if he would only be able to take wei ying or if wei ying was going to hate him. he couldnt let wei ying go again. he inched closer to wwx's living quarters and he barely got a greeting in before the maidservants announced wrh's arrival. wwx immediately told lwj to hide in his room. wrh came in and wwx all but jumped into his arms. lwj could see everything. he could see wrh kissing he face he dreamt of kissing for so many years, touching the body he dreamt of touching for so many years.

10/ >mpreg< lwj ended up hiding for a good portion of the whole day, trying to close his ears as he heard sounds he once dreamt wei ying would let out only for him. swallowing his own tears as wwx begs wrh to ravish him. wrh didnt leave until wwx woke up from his nap. when he deemed it safe enough, lwj sneaks back out, still wrecking his brain trying to think of ways to convince wwx to leave with him. "wei ying, come back to gusu with me, please" wwx pouts, shaking his head. "im not going anywhere, get lost!" "wei ying please" lwj tried approaching wwx, but he just kept backing away. "get lost!"

11/ >mpreg< lwj kept pushing, maybe if he could just <i>touch</i> wei ying, he could identify and undo whatever spell wrh did on wei ying. wwx kept backing away, replying to all of lwj's pleas with 'get lost'. he wasnt going to let this man who he hadnt seen for so long take everything away from him. soon, there was no more space for wwx to retreat to, trapped between lwj's approaching form and his vanity table. he grabbed a hairpin and swung, slashing lwj's perfect face. blood dripped on the floor, but lwj couldnt care less, not when wei ying is inches away from him. he <i>had</i> to have wei ying back.

12/ >mpreg< lwj was prepared to just hit wwx's pressure points to render him unconscious and carry him outside, his pregnancy be damned, but before he could, wei ying was already screaming. "a-yuan!" it took mere seconds before the door slammed open, revealing a teenager with a sword in his hand. he had wei ying's eyes. he could recognize that shade of silver anywhere, but the glint of malice there was unmistakably wen ruohan's. the teenager charged at lwj, who was caught off guard and it took no time before lwj was subdued and bleeding, kneeling by wwx's bed with the teenager's foot keeping him still. "scum! you dare try to harm my mother?!"

13/ >mpreg< "would never try to harm wei ying.. only want wei ying back" lwj croaks. "preposterous!" wei ying's son (a-yuan, lwj's mind provided) barked. "who do you think you are, to boldly lay claim on my mother? you deserve death for this!" lwj didnt respond. he was focused on wwx sitting in front of him, caressing his baby bump lovingly, creating an image of heavenly bliss, but everything in lwj screamed that it was <i>wrong- wrong, wrong, wei ying is</i> "lan zhan" lwj's world stopped.

14/ >mpreg< wwx looked at lwj in the eyes. his eyes look sad. disappointed. <i>at wangji</i> "why do you keep antagonizing me? back then you kept telling me that i was wrong, kept telling me how i was supposed to be. i know you didnt like me before and i left you alone. now youre here pestering me, as if i have no mind of my own to think and feel. and you ask me to leave with you?never," wwx's eyes hardened with grievance. "i suggest you leave immediately and maybe you'll get to keep your life" lwj's eyes widen. <i>wei ying misunderstood, must tell him- </i> "no, wei ying, youre under a spell. wei ying would never-" lwj wheezed as a sharp kick hit his back. "shut up!" wen yuan growled, "if i hear you speak rubbish one more time i would-" "a-yuan" wwx interrupted. "wen yuan, my beloved firstborn, it's okay. mother's got this," he gave his son an assuring look. then he shifted his gaze back to lwj. "lan zhan, im not under any spell. i really do belong here. you can check" wwx held out one hand for lwj to touch. lwj desperately took the hand. he wanted to relish in the softness of skin at first, the warmth he longed for, but quickly decided something was more important. he checked wwx's meridians, his qi pathways. lwj paled. he could feel nothing.

15/ >mpreg< "why" all the breath left lwj. "wei ying, he- he made you birth so many children, kept you locked here-" wwx's brows arched. "i love my children. i have always wanted a house full of children. master ruohan gave me what i wanted. i bear children for him because i love him" if this was heaven then lwj would rather go to hell.angstymdzsthoughtsOofWas that the last part?reblog-monsterno hold oni have like 1 or 2 moreangstymdzsthoughtsOk

16/ >mpreg< <i>wei ying, his wei ying, his heart, his soulmate, loves-?</i> "i love master ruohan, the father of my children. if he wants me to stay, i will stay. if he wants me to go, i will go. but you, you dont get a say" lwj heaved as wwx pulled his hand back, his heart too heavy and his head too painful. "ah, my bad" wwx gave lwj a side eye. "you know to much now" lwj swore he could saw wwx smirk at wen yuan but nothing mattered anymore. lwj gasped when a sword pierced his chest but it was a welcome pain to numb his aching soul. "just so you know," wwx's eyes glinted with glee as he bends down in a mock attempt to whisper into lwj's ear. "i love being pregnant. i beg master ruohan to breed me again even a few weeks after giving birth. im never going to stop, i cant stop," he giggled and lwj was somehow relieved that wwx's laughter was the last thing he heard before everything dissolved into nothing.

[ending notes] back in gusu, just as everyone was busy with the absence of their sect leader, only a letter came a few days later with a familiar red seal and a bloody headband. someone tried to violate a member of wen ruohan's harem and the perpetrator has been dealt with accordingly. their sect leader never returned.

[knightmathias]

task 01: spring play audition ( macbeth ) !

notes: don’t give him macbeth thank u i want him to go batshit LMAO im kidding but rlly dont give him macbeth

i also couldn’t figure out how to put this in organically but mathias def knows that a LOT of the others are gunning for macbeth too!!! but he’s never been worried bc he knows for sure he’s always going to get the lead roles so he never really thinks about anyone else, i think it’ll be great for him to not only NOT get macbeth but not even a really big role full stop ? i don’t think it makes sense for heidi to give him a SMALL role maybe bc he IS technically really fuckin good but i also dont think heidi think it’s Best to give him a huge role anyway like she can see the Laziness in him and “acting for the wrong reasons” / not improving as an actor bc he’s never been in the spot to need to!!!!!!

Calling it a problem sounded so serious, you think derisively. Your hands are brushing over the small packet of coke you’ve placed on the desk, eyebrows furrowed. You’ve got ten minutes until your audition, and whilst Heidi doesn’t seem to be the type of person to appreciate tardiness, you’re not used to bending yourself to follow the rules. So you’ll be late. Big deal.

Calling it a problem, you continue thinking, getting your thoughts back on track. Calling it a problem was silly. An addiction would come in the form of your sister Ana, who could never stop herself. And even then, she’s fine. High every time you see her these days, maybe, but she’s fine -- Bad things don’t happen to the Knights. Only good things. Only good things.

Still, you sweep the bag into your desk drawer instead, out of sight. You don’t need it right now, the temptation was just a little too much when you have the bag in front of you; you’re certainly not nervous about this audition at all. Sure, you haven’t really worked on practising much -- but you never do, right? And sure, you’ve been more distracted as of late -- falling in and out of [the statue’s] bed, preoccupied by Orson’s death. But you either have the star quality or you don’t, it’s what your parents have always taught you. Working hard is good, but it’s for the ones that don’t have it, who want what you have. You’ve run through your lines a few times, you know it’s going to be good.

( And sure, you’ve taken to drinking more and smoking more and done a few more lines lately than would be considered smart. But you don’t talk about that. You don’t even think about that. What’s too much? What’s too far? When is enough enough when you’ve been like this, been around this, your whole life? It’s the glamourous life of theatre, baby, it’s just show biz. )

You take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. 4 minutes. Plenty of time then.

There’s a glass filled halfway of vodka and Coke on your bed stand, not quite finished from the night before. You pick it up and down it, even though it’s gone flat by now. The alcohol to take the edge off, but you won’t admit there’s an edge to you anyway. Liquid luck instead, maybe, but when have you ever needed luck? For the enjoyment, then, is what you reason. Why waste perfectly good alcohol?

By the time you arrive, Heidi’s voice cuts to you, unimpressed. “You’re twelve minutes late.”

“Had to make sure my hair was pretty,” you say charmingly, the cheek usually endearing to others. Orson would’ve loved your response, would’ve grinned and joked back, would’ve said something about the importance of appearance on stage. Orson would’ve ---

But it’s not Orson. It’s Heidi, and she doesn’t seem to think you’re being funny at all. 

“I think it’s best if you just start, since you’re running late.”

But you’ve already made your way onto the stage.

"Mathias Knight,” you say, stage voice on. Your teeth glint white in the light as you flash a professional smile, but Heidi doesn’t seem to return it. “I’m auditioning for the role of Macbeth. I’ve chosen to do Macbeth’s speech from Act 2 Scene 1 -- Enjoy.”

There’s no surprise on Heidi’s face at your announcement of choice, but you don’t let it deter you. Of course it’s predictable, to go for Macbeth and to do this scene, but does it matter what you audition with, when your talent will showcase either way? You want Macbeth and you’re going to get it, you always do. There was no point putting in more work than its worth, when performing Macbeth’s most famous soliloquy did the same job.

Heidi nods, so you take a deep breath and settle into your role effortlessly. You’ve heard the others talk about needing to have an emotional connection to the role they’re playing, and you’ve never quite understood it -- you’ve played characters you could hardly even fathom being similar to, but you’ve played them excellently nonetheless. Acting, for you, is not about the emotion, or the personal, or the leaving of your body behind. It’s about the skill and the technique and the way you perform it -- because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s a performance. It’s a performance and you’re conscious of that fact every moment you are on that stage, your own kingdom. You connect with the characters because you need to, but it’s always been on that surface level, knowing you are playing them. You are not Macbeth. That much is clear. But you’re a damn good actor.

“Is this a dagger which I see before me, / The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee...”

You’ve never known fear, or delusion, like Macbeth in this scene -- but that’s never been why you’re so good. You can push passion and emotion out of your voice so well that no one could ever see the difference, you can bend and contort your face in the same anguish and people will believe it. What is a tragedy to someone who’s never experienced the bad? It’s just: tragedy. It’s a word. It means nothing.

( Tragedy: a play dealing with tragic events and having an unhappy ending, especially one concerning the downfall of the main character. )

( Of course you’re the main character, you’re always the main character. There’s nothing forgettable about the way you hold yourself, the way you speak, the way you move. The downfall of the main character. But you’ve not done anything wrong, have you? You didn’t murder Orson. What’s the worse crime you’ve committed? A few stolen grams of coke? Petty thievery, small crime -- who is hurting from your lack of consequences? No one. You were born indestructible. You’re pretty sure you’re going to die that way too. )

( An unhappy ending. Darling, your story is hardly far from over yet. )

When you finish the soliloquy, that powerful feeling that settles in your bones every time you perform, you half-expect an applause. You were objectively good and there’s no other way that that could be twisted. Instead, you look out and only meet Heidi’s eyes, facial expression unreadable. For a moment, you’d forgotten, waiting for Orson to tell you how brilliant you were. 

But Orson wasn’t here. Isn’t it funny it only hits you in the gut every time you want something from him? His approval felt like an applause from an adoring crowd. His approval confirmed everything you’ve ever known about yourself, and you didn’t realise you craved it so badly until you were faced with the absence of it.

Several beats of silence. You’re waiting for her to say something, but when she doesn’t, you say, “So?”

Finally, Heidi shrugs. “It was an impressive performance. Truthfully, one of the best I’ve seen today.”

At that, you square your shoulders, basking in the compliment. What’s the best part of acting for you? You’ve heard others say things like slipping out of their own body and mind, into someone else’s. No, for you, you bleed yourself out on stage for this: the roaring approval.

But Heidi isn’t done talking. She adds, “I just don’t know if it’s enough.”

You blink. “Pardon me, but what?”

“What do you think about when you’re acting on stage, Mathias?”

The question takes you by surprise. “I think -- I think about the role I’m playing.”

Heidi shakes her head. “The thing is -- I just don’t think you do. I think you’re thinking about the praise you’ll get.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” You don’t have a bad temper, you’ve never been forced to. But irritation ignites within you, an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. 

She considers you for a moment, and you’ve never felt self-conscious in your life, least of all on a stage. She considers you for a moment, and you feel suddenly very naked, like she’s looking at something deep within you and she’s not liking what she sees.

“Thank you for your time, Mathias,” she says abruptly.

“No,” falls out of your mouth first, because you’re not used to being dismissed, not used to failing. She said it was one of the best performances she’s seen today, but suddenly it doesn’t feel enough. 

Her eyebrows raise.

“You said it yourself that I’m good,” you say hurriedly. “I’m the best, and you know it. You can dislike me all you like --”

“Mathias, I don’t dislike you --”

“But I know I’m good,” you continue, as if uninterrupted. “When I’m on that stage, it doesn’t matter who likes me as Mathias and who doesn’t; all that matters is that the audience does. I’ve been playing the lead my whole life for a reason, and they’ll all call it arrogance, but there’s nothing wrong in knowing that I’m good. That I’m the best. Who cares if I’m connecting emotionally to the characters? I’m one of the best actors on this program and it’s for a reason, and I’m sorry it’s not the reason you want it to be, but talent is a reason in itself. That’s what Orson told me. Orson said I have what it takes. Orson said I was going to do big things. Orson said --”

“Mathias,” Heidi cuts off neatly, and there’s something in her voice that you can’t place. Pity, maybe? But you’ve never been pitied before. What is there to pity in you? You’re the star. You’re always the fucking star. “I’m not Orson.”

The sentence guts you in a way it shouldn’t, and you blink at the aftermath of your outburst. 

“Thank you for your time, Mathias,” she says again, firmer. 

This time, you move off the stage, towards the door. The only thing you can think about is how badly you need a drink.

[dearmyblank]

mom,

tomorrow will be your fathers birthday: ill swing by, put a card in the mailbox. usually i would stop, maybe spend the evening, but doum had a flue, so im not sure she can take the visit. a few weeks ago, i myself turned twenty, and i wanted to write you ever since but my words always get mixed up. 

i had a party with my friends, in the flat you once lived in, and at one point i ran into you in the mirror. when i was a kid, i craved compliments about me looking just like you: a guy i barely knew once told me i got your eyes, and it never got out of my head. i guess i never saw why people would say that, so i needed to hear it a lot. but when i cut my hair two years ago, it finally hit me: i couldn’t look at my reflexion for months; its better now, but sometimes, in the bathroom, i bump into you. i dont know how to describe the feeling it gives me: i guess joy and terror and pain and nostalgia and affection all at once.

its always weird, that feeling of carrying you in me, all the time. its like a stamp, on my every emotion, my every thought. it shaped my heart and my mind years ago. its hard to put it into words, that idea: its like a genesis, and loss was the very first thing that existed in me. i know its not quite accurate, but also, your absence is everywhere, and sometimes its taking the place of very basic emotions like hunger or tiredness.

in therapy, we agreed that i couldn’t dedicate my entire life to your grief, that i must find a way to exist in that universe without it being about you, but its so freaking hard, like «turning my world upside down» hard. i thought again about what people used to say, what even you were thinking: that it would be hardest for l, because p was old enough to process even if it would hurt at first, and i was young and lively enough to move on and grow.

it has been seventeen freaking years and i am still not over it, and i will probably never be, so there is that. i wont ever be, because i have nowhere to move on to. thats all ive got, the missing you, the heartbreak of it. i wont ever get to the point where i can think of nice memories, warm my heart with it, and tell sweet stories about you, because i dont have them to think about or to tell. 

you died when i was still at that age where you were my whole universe, and all i have got ever since is an empty galaxy stuck in my chest, and that doesn’t make a sound very easy to share with anyone.

i realized something today, something that might be important. its about you, about the idea i built of you. the warm and safe glow i would hide into on my dark nights, the tenderness in every snowflakes, the benevolence in lost objects that reappeared, the strength i found in the idea of you. for so many years i built myself a temple of all the love i thought you would have felt towards me, a temple of pictures, small objects, pieces of clothing and signs.

todays, i finally figured out that all that love, all that kindness, all that strength i thought i was getting out of you, i was making it for myself. it comes from me, from inside of me, and in a way, that is a a gift from both myself and you, something we share, and it has been mine for as long as the idea of your loss.

my favorite writer once wrote that « loss is a gift », which at the time made me really mad; but i finally made sens out of it. 

im constantly learning, and taking care of my own self, and i have as much kindness in my heart as i possibly can. ill try my best to keep sharing it with the people around me. ill also try my best to surround myself with it too.

next time ill tell you about small things, things of life, like my love, or how is everyone’s doing.

love,

j

[cannibalisticshadows]

Nightcall (2/2)

[ao3 Link] .    [Part One]

Megamind drops out of the media. Though the media doesn’t drop him.

The spike in his frequent fights with Metro Man has done a complete 360, much to the relief of the locals and to the disappointment of tourists. The news and media alike have leaped onto his sudden change like scavengers to fresh offal. Talk of his recent rendezvous, or lack thereof, are on everyone’s mind.

“He’s a maniac,” some talk-show host said into the speaker, hunched over a desk looking quite aggressive. The screen of the television baths the blue alien in a dull electronic glow illuminated his reflective eyes. He frowns at the person but having no good point to disagree. He’s just offended someone would be so bold to jump into the obvious.

“He’s a maniac, and Metro Man has been taking his sweet-ass time in trying to bring this alien-fuck down. Sure, sure, all-righteous and no-killing and what not. I’m sorry but he’s just pious.” Not just ballsy, but controversial. “My only guess as to why Megamind has abruptly vanished like a phantom is because our city’s hero finally grew a pair and kicked his skinny blue ass into the next life. And by God will none of us miss him. Look at what a shit-show he’s turned this city into—“

Megamind turns the TV off by throwing the remote so hard that it shatters the screen.

Sighing, he crawls out of his little nest of blankets and decides it’s time. He’s been procrastinating enough; he’s done nothing for the past two weeks and it’s getting to his head.

His plan to tell Roxanne started out sounding like the only resort to fixing him and his dumb extraterrestrial make-up, but he’s been pushing it off since he got home the last time he broke out of prison. Who knew he could really raise some hell by simply doing nothing.

Roxanne has made few appearances on television since her last kidnapping. Sadly enough, due to his absence, she had little to do (at least, to the public eye). She was the main reporter, focusing on Metro City’s star inhabitancies. Metro Man had nothing much to do besides helping little old ladies or getting cats from trees—not worthy of making an emergency announcement on the news.

And since he hasn’t seen her, he’s going into such a stump he’s made several near attempts to just show up at her place with no spray. How would she respond?

Well, he’d find out tonight.

He filled the invisible car up with his home-made energy source, making sure it wouldn’t run on empty. Tonight he was going out, far enough to reach the boonies.

And he wouldn’t be alone.

Megamind, unsure of how she’d react but knowing this would be practically life or death for him, grabbed a few essentials. The de-gun. Knock-out spray. Rope. You know. The usual. This had to go as smooth as possible for him to get serious with her, to assure her he’d never bother her again as long as he got this off his chest so he could wallow in misery with a peace of mind.

So, making sure she’s home with the affirmation from one of his spy-bots, Megamind packs up his things in the car and zooms out of the Lair before Minion can so much as ask “Where are you going, Sir?”

When he gets to her building, he uses a brainbot to fly him up to her balcony. She never locks it (Oh, Roxanne, I do question your sanity sometimes), so when he pushes the glass doors open, he enters a relatively quiet domain.

The lights over her tiny kitchen are on, illuminating her one-person apartment. Sniffing, and catching the remnants of her perfume, he follows it until—

“Mega—“ Before he gives her time to even finish saying his self-given name, he whips around and gives her a reasonably large dose of spray. She gasps, eyes roll up, and her body drops in a dead weight. Flinging out an arm he catches her, unable to keep his hungry eyes from the expanse of her pale, bare neck. Megamind splays his fingers across her bare, marveling at seeing her for the first time in weeks. It’s been too long.

Tonight she’s wearing civvies. A pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a white peasant blouse with little red and blue flowers along the neck and sleeves. She’s missed a barber appointment, he thinks, as her hair is exactly two centimeters longer than usual. Her hair’s also a bit damp, curling ever so slightly at the very ends. She not wearing makeup, either, letting him see all of her little brown freckles dusting her cheeks, like little stars in a milky white setting. He licks his lips.

Megamind ties her wrists and covers her mouth with a cheap duck tape. He’s never taped her mouth shut before, but for once he doesn’t want her screaming or complaining. And despite every Hollywood movie where the bad guy tapes the victim’s mouth shut, it’s very possible to remove it without the use of hands.

He carries her out bridal style, whistling for the brainbot to bring him back to the car. Once on the ground, he tucks her into the passenger seat and pulls the belt on, all before getting in himself.

And then he drives. He drives for a long time, content for the moment to sit in silence beside the soft rumble of the car’s engine.

Swerving through Metro City’s night traffic, the city lights gleaming in this never sleeping place, he keeps his head low as he goes, so stressed he finds himself clutching the wheel so hard it threatens to snap. The leather of his gloves scrunches.

They (he; she’s still knocked out) drive out of the midnight city into the rolling countryside, past the lake and past the forests. Lush green hillsides and vast farm lands. He can hear the road scratch under the car tires as asphalt turns into gravel and dirt.

After about forty minutes of driving, he can tell Roxanne is beginning to stir. Quickly, he pulls up beside a huge oak tree in the middle of no where, and void of another living soul for miles.

Well. There is a cow outside but it’s like, ten feet away minding its own business.

As the car comes to a stop, he turns the key and all is instantly quiet.

With a soft grunt, Roxanne squirms in her seat and consciousness slowly comes to. He doesn’t watch her, choosing to star at his bony knees and twiddle his thumbs. All he can hear is her movements, and his own rapidly beating heart.

“M…Mmm?” Her eyes slowly open, blinking in the dim atmosphere. Her eyes then open wider, and she looks around for the usual sights of a kidnapping. Seeing as they’re only in the car, and her mouth is taped, she abruptly begins to struggle.

“Wait!” He says frantically, trying to calm her like one would do for a wild horse. “It’s okay! This isn’t a kidnapping! Well, technically it is but it’s just us—“

“MMM!?” She starts to work her mouth through the tape in earnest, tongue visibly trying to lick at the stickiness.

“Please, wait! This is—I just want to tell you something. Something… important. I promise on my ancestors that you have full permission and more to beat me outside but… please. Just listen to me. Please, Miss Ritchi.”

Her struggling stops, and she turns to him with a suspicious glare. He bows his head, flushing in shame. She hates me.

Though she’s trapped him under an intense stare, snaring him more than he had with her, Roxanne goes still as if awaiting for whatever stupid thing he’s got to say to her.

“I… want to apologize, for my behavior two weeks ago. It was unforgivable.”

“Mm.”

“But—I… I…”

She glares harder. Ashamed of himself, he turns his stare to the dashboard.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t look up to catch her reaction, but she doesn’t respond verbally.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He bangs his forehead against the steering wheel with each confession, feeling all the pint up emotions in him pouring out like water from a broken dam. It burns his insides with glorious relief and bittersweet shame all at once. Yet it keeps flowing. “And I’m so, so sorry. It’s—not my choice, Miss Ritchi. I can’t help it. My b-body…Ah—s—“ he stutters, so anxious it’s close to making him piss himself. He can feel it claw at this throat, threatening tears. “My species… we d-don’t have crooches, like a human. We… fall in love. Hard. And once. Only once. Once and only with one person. And that’s it. We mate for life, like doves. Or beavers. Wolves. I-It doesn’t matter. But once the relationship is formed that’s it. Cheating or finding a second love if the other leaves or dies is purely an earthly concept. My own p-parents, they—they only had eyes for each other. Sex or romance wasn’t even a concept I understood before I met y—…. I didn’t chose you, Miss Ritchi. I didn’t want this to happen. You don’t deserve this. I’ve already turned your life into a living hell, and for that I cannot apologize enough, even onto my grave. My transgressions are unforgivable. Yet, even being here on Earth I cannot…. There is no place for me. My planet, it’s… I’m all that’s left. And Minion. I didn’t think I could possibly imprint on anyone, much less a human, in this way. Yet… I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. I should have known…”

She’s fidgeting ever so softly beside him, he hears the crinkle of the tape.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he takes in a staggering breath, wet tears rolling down his sharp face and trickling on his lips. Salty like the sea.

He can’t bring himself to speak again in fear of weeping like a damn baby, but he feels as vulnerable as one in the moment. Weak. Childish. Pathetic.

The car falls into a silence, with his shaky breaths and a light breeze rolling against the windows. Other than that, it’s as quiet as a void. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, and sees her staring outside at the cow as if it had done something personal to disrespect her.

They sit in silence for a long time.

“I’m done,” he suddenly says.

He hears her move around again.

“I’m… I’m done. With this business,” he gestures to himself in general, to the car, to his gun. “I mean, there are things you don’t know about. Things I’ve done behind cameras. In the underworld. I’ve committed enough sins to last multiple lifetimes over. There’s blood on my hands. Miss Ritchi. Like you wouldn’t believe. And… I’m going to give it up. I can’t keep doing this…

“This such a archaic concept for me. Aah, uh, did you know… Of course you wouldn’t… The males, sometimes even the females, of my kind have to… catch the other sometimes. To express that they feel the same way. Avoids miscommunication or misplaced feelings. My own father… had to sneak into my mother’s household as teenagers to propose to her. It’s—I didn’t even realize it until recently I was courting you! Unconsciously! I’m—God I’m so sorry, Miss Ritchi. I just need to go away. “

She lets out a muffled sound again.

“I’m moving from this place,” he looks around at the vast farmland, the dot of the city in the distance, reflected by his rear-view mirror. “Romania sounds nice. I do a lot of business over there. Lots of forests and hillsides where there’s no one for miles. I can’t bother you or anyone out th—”

Roxanne suddenly spits.

Looking over to her in surprise, he sees she has vanquished the duck tape and has rolled it up in her mouth to spit it onto the dashboard. Turning on one hip, she faces him with such a glower it chills him to the very bone.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she hisses.

He shrinks in his seat.

“Don’t you dare drop this on me and say you’re just gonna leave!” She yells, pulling against her taped wrists. He opens his mouth to let out a string of never ending apologies, but—she’s starting to cry, he sees, much to his absolute horror. Has he truly upset her this bad? He really was a monster.

“How—you stupid, stupid man,” she cries out, and suddenly—he sees her raise her arms, still taped by the wrist, and he honestly thinks he’s about to be hit when—

She loops her arms around his big blue head and latches onto his neck, yanking him closer and making him clumsily fall onto the stick shift as—

Her mouth is on his. So hard do their mouths come together that their teeth clack, faces clashing together he barely has time to process what’s happening. Gasping, hands wild and unsure in the air as she seemingly tries to suck his soul out, but—he knows what’s happening, mildly, but a bigger part of him is convinced he’s dreaming or hit his head.

The feeling of her lips touching his, though, is electrifying. Every nerve in his body begins to sing and scream all at once, overwhelming him with a sensation override. She moans and presses closer, both of them awkward and clumsy as they clutch at the other from opposite seats. Clutched… he feels his hand involuntarily grab her waist, holding his close but terrified he’s mixing the signals. It feels so so so good, though, and—

She pulls away before he can even realize he was responding back, albeit unsurely. Arms locked around his neck, he mentally curses himself for tying her up. But. It felt like the thing to do at the time.

“You listen to me you son of a bitch,” she viciously spats. “You come to my place, ten’o’freakin’clock at night, and tell me you love me only then to say you’re leaving? What the actual hell!?”

He attempts to pull back, hide in his shell, run away from her furious reprimand, but his neck is still trapped by her arms. Shit. Really a bad decision to tie her up. The alien’s prepared to say something, anything, to show how much of a lowly creature he is in her light, but all that comes out of his throat are choked warbles and whimpers. “I—“

She sniffles.

He meets her eyes in surprise to see two glassy blue orbs meeting his. Frantically, he try to console the weepy female by nervously patting her back. “Ah—M-Miss Ritchi—“

“You were such an A-hole,” she says, sobbing. “Megamind, for once you were actually cruel. It scared me.”

“Oh, oh my dear—No, no, my sweet, no! I wasn’t—“ he swallows. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just frustrated. With myself. With my instincts. I—if I behaved any less I would have made a fool of myself.”

“Well, you already did that by yelling at me, you cabbage.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You made me feel like a whore the last kidnapping.”

He remembers that dress she wore. Wine red, rimmed in black. His... comment to it. Megamind bows his head and clenches his whole body. “I am sorry.”

“And you made me worry about you. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Confused, he looks up at her. Roxanne then pulls at her arms and lets him go from between them. Gesturing with her wrists, he catches her drift and pulls out his trusted butterfly knife and whips it out, glad to have something to do with a tool he’s familiar with. Nothing else felt familiar; alien and strange.

As the plastic finally rips away, her skin safe from his sharp little friend, she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him to her again. Eyes wide, he numbly feels her kiss him a few quick, consecutive times before—

She slaps him in the chest.

He’s nearly got a concussion from how bad the whiplash is.

“Is it true?” Roxanne demands. He’s unable to speak. “Is it true? Do you love m—“

“Yes. Yes, I love you. A million times over.”

This little woman shakes her head, eyes glistening with something he can’t begin to understand. He feels like he’s drowning, with a weight tied to his feet to prevent him to swimming to the surface. He can't breath. She then grabs onto his shoulders. Shaking her head again, she says, “Then don’t go to Romania. Don’t leave Metro City. This place is our-your home.”

“Miss Ritchi, I can’t… stay around you anymore,” his voice breaks. “I can’t without—“

Her lips are on his again.

Shocked, but rapidly trying to learn this new skill she’s apparently trying to teach him, he responds as best he can. Periwinkle blue to unpainted pink, their lips press against each other, seining the warmth and the wet of the other’s mouth. He once saw this activity between lovers an unsanitary and strange thing, but now he understands its meaning. His lips are quite sensitive, and this kissing sets his body to flame, scrambling towards something he can’t seem to catch.

When she pulls away, he follows her, not wanting this connection to end. A tiny bead of saliva snaps between them as their lips depart.

“For such a genius, you can be unbelievably dense.” She cups his face. “I love you Megamind."

What.

"God, I love you. And your behavior, this month—I thought you’d finally lost it. Or just got tired of me.”

His first instinct is to respond yes, yes he has lost it, completely and utterly, but—

“You—you what—“

Roxanne shakes her head again, this time smiling so wide that it nearly reaches her ears, all pearly whites on display for him. She lets him go, finally, letting him think straight. Which is bad because his brain runs in about five hundred directions. Blinking rapidly to disperse the tears in her wet lashes, she continues with, “I’m glad you told me this. Because—I was considering on moving as well.”

He jolts in his seat.

“I sometimes get job offers in other places. This time… I had an offer in Liverpool.”

“Leeverpul!? What’s can you find in Leeverpul?”

“I like the British accent. And it’s far, far away from here.”

Hapless, he stares at his knees.

“Hey,” she pulls him out of his stupor. “Look at me. That’s better. Now. That stuff you said about… imprinting on me? Is that true, too?”

“All of it,” he breaths.

Roxanne nods her head and leans back against the leather seats. “Then listen to me. I love you with all of my heart. I have for a long time, Megamind. So it hurt me, so, so much with how much of a dick you were suddenly turning into. You may as well have stabbed me in the heart.” He winces. “And then you just up and vanished. Gone. Everyone is talking about you!”

He can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s nothing like he ever imagined happening in any probable outcome of this. She… actually… returned his feelings? What??? What witchcraft is this!? He really must’ve bumped his head hard!

“I... know. I see the news. I see my lack of an appearance in the public eye has given you less work… Ah, are you sleeping better?”

She looks at him in confusion.

“You were always falling asleep.”

Roxanne lets out a loud sigh. “I know… I know…”

“Why.” It isn’t a question.

“I always thought you were just a bit ol’sweetheart that grew up on the wrong side of the law. I fall in love with you a little harder every time you goof around like that. I hate that you’re always destroying something or trying to start a fight, but it was a little endearing.” She lets out another loud exhale. “And then you started acting like I was shit under your shoe.”

“N—!“

She raises a hand, and he immediately goes silent.

"So I started drinking. Tried to drink the pain away. But that doesn't work," her voice breaks a bit.

He wants to bang his head against the wall.

“And I hate that you dragged me out here,” she motions toward the countryside. “You don’t have to ship yourself off to God knows where, but stopping the kidnapping would be nice. Even if it’s apart of your… culture.”

“Whatever-Whatever you desire," he swears reverently.

“What I desire,” she says, placing a hand on his knee, “is for you to take me home.”

He nods, expecting that answer.

“And I want you to come up with me. We’re gonna have a talk.”

“O-kay...?”

Suddenly she leans over again and presses his lips to his cheek. With his breath hitching, because its still a lovely, foreign feel to him, she adds, “And then I’m going to show you how much I love you, too.”

“W—“

“I know you, Megamind. I can see it in your face. Now. Take us home, sweetheart.” She kisses his lips again.

This time he knows what to do, and copies her actions better than before. It feels like fireworks.

He’s glad he told her.

[edenial]

I've fallen behind... what the heck is going in with twenty one pilots?? Did something new happen? I know about the tower and basically all about the first update whenever that happened, can't remember, but I know nothing about the newest stuff

okay you need to catch up on a lot, let me tell you and link you everthing you need to know

so, first thing you need to know is that the eye closed in 7 pictures, and that in each update there is something corallating to the lyrics in those pictures.

we have now had 6 updates. the pictures of the eye closing were published on the 6th of july last year, and since music releases by fueled by ramen tend to be on fridays (and would you look at that this friday is the 6th of july what a coincidence right) i just went ahead and assumed that we’re gonna get the seventh update this friday.

the first was finding the site : you’ll have to come and find me

the second was the clancy letter “you’re still sleeping” : my pretty sleeper

the third was a cheetah gif: the eye pic was a slowtown lyric, and the song also has the lyrics “we’re going too fast” i mean you see where im going with this

the forth clue was the title of the photo of 21 men “not my only friend”: the lyrics were from truce

the fifth one was the gif of a vulture (not actually blinking): nobody dreams when they blink

the sixth is associated with the first sentence in clancys double-sided poem “a lifeless light surrounds us each night” : remember the morning is when night it dead

the seventh being and now i just sit in silence, i assume silence is gonna be the name for a single or the album itself because of the reasons i wrote on my post.

I’m gonna put the keep reading thing here because this post will be a bitch to scroll past. so many things to talk about, so buckle tf up.

so yeah, this is the basic structure of these hints and updates. between these main hints we got a lot of cryptic clues, huge dog-bones and reward-treats.

you already know about the first clue which was finding the site.

after that we got an update on the site with the letter from clancy. some words had letters that were missing, which spelled out “you’re still sleeping”, hence the my pretty sleeper lyric. this basically means the eyes still closed i guess, no biggie.

the third was this wonderful cheetah gif code-named 3lurr

people have found that in 2012 the TOP twitter posted this:

so obviously the cheetah has a meaning here. as people tried to find out what this gif was about they also figured out where its from. It’s from a movie called “Duma”. Yeah, Duma, like Dema. mind. blown. i know.  and it’s about this boy that finds a baby cheetah. Turns out Duma is also a Russian council set up by Nicholas II. (*ahem* Nico). Isn’t it amazing when things fit in like a pre-planned puzzle?

names are very central here since you probably know the 9 names in the middle of the dema map from the first update. the next person we’ll talk about is andré weil.

André Weil is the guy cropped out of the photo of the little kid. He’s a french  mathematician. He basically invented the Ø with 9 people. 9 bishops, 9 circles, 9 mathematicians.. you see what I’m digging into here? Also, the null sign (null means Zero) means absence, empty (aka silence? no?)

P.S: this dude also claimed that he “mathematically proved that God is real”. and as if all of this was planned for years, he worked on the concept of uniform space (SILENCE GIVES YOU SPACE) and stuff with a dude named Nicholas Bourbaki. yep, another Nico.

Something about this guy named Nico, (which then turned out to also be in a song title: Nico and the Niners - remember those 9 guys i just mentioned?) keeps appearing everywhere. In the cheetah gif 3lurr we talked about there have been letters literally moving too fast. when someone slowed it down they found it said “You still don’t know his name do you?” and “Nico Nico” (Nicholas II. remember?). Idk what other people think but i think this might be about the narrator of this album (clancy) and his adversary (nico) maybe? Like tyler and blurry where Nico is our winner and Clancy the dying man? Or maybe Nico is the leader of the nine and Clancy is an ally? not enough hints to understand it yet, at least for me. maybe Clancy is not his only friend? idk

Quick side-note: Nico (Niko) means victory of the people, basically a war hero in greek. Thats very interesting isn’t it. I thought so too.

The other song title leaked is Jumpsuit. Nico and The Niners and Jumpsuit were both found on the PPL Repertoire List, which lists all copyrighted songs for artists. (It’s been removed now, probably to protect song leaks.) The new Panic! at the Disco song titles had also been on here i think abt 2 weeks before the Say Amen video got posted. So in our case it would mean that we get a new Single around the 13th of July. Since they are both Fueled by Ramen bands, it could be that they have this protocol with every single they release.

Then we got 2 major updates, major because we finally literally heard from Tyler.

The thing is now it seems we are going back to where it all started, to the play, the war in it, 1939 (also the number of likes on their twitter, just saying). in the site dmaorg.info we now have a new picture of 21 people (who look a lot like those textbook soldiers looking over graves in the trenches that you see in WW2 might i add) in the same position the vultures are. it really feels like this is gonna be a going back to the origins, to the slow and deep self-titled times. to remember where the name came from, and to honor it. there are so many nodds to the play its impossible not to think about self-titled.

i saw an interview where tyler said he wanted to focus more on lyrics and make something less fun and dancey, and more like the self-titled album. with much better production of course. maybe thats why i have all of this in my mind.

Now, since we know that even image names are important clues, and that the photo has the title“__n_ot_myo_nly_fri_en d” under it, we took the image name of this photo of 21 men and entered it into the website just like we did with the violation code. and jackpot. bulls-eye. it led to a video. it doesn’t sound like anything remotely transcribable. i know. so, of course, it needs to be sped up and reversed.

some people heard “we are perdidos” which means “we are lost”, but in a minute you’ll see why this is not the case.

PS: the code, 2018_514_3_8 also spells out TRENCH which ties in with the whole war theme that I mentioned above.

next two updates are the vulture gif (named i as in eye -  look at it not blinking)

and the second clancy letter (named reverse in reverse i mean come on)

clancy’s letter is scarily depressing and sad. but more importantly it starts with the line “a lifeless light surrounds us each night”. like the sixth clue suggests, ‘remember the morning is when night is dead.’ dead light, and dead night.

if you obey tyler and reverse the letter sentence by sentence, it still makes absolute sense and changes its meaning. and its kinda insane that they actually did this.

Another thing we got was this image with just a yellow strip and some numbers.

If you put that yellow strip over the double-sided poem you get the words “we are banditos”, portuguese for ‘we are bandits’. now the reverse message actually makes some fucking sense because its exactly what tyler said. told you you’d get it in a minute.

the numbers create 2018_514_3_8, meaning tylers message was in fact this sentence.

the sixth being lyrics from message man, i have a feeling clancy is the message man. the message man being the messanger between dema and the people outside? and nico is maybe a name for silence? the nine bishops maybe being 9 helpers of blurry and silence being an ally for blurry? blurry being dema? i really have no idea i really dont know.

this is it as far as i remember. i hope you are fully uodated now. welcome back to hiatus hell!

[syharper]

the universe aligns with you

@syjaewon:

there’s a nook in the navigational room, a small collection of cushions that pretend to be a couch sometimes, slid onto a wide pane, the thick window opening up a view out into open space, unending darkness and bright spots, and this is where jaewon sometimes curls up to talk over the comm with people, hana before she came aboard, vera when she was still alive, saito answering his calls only sometimes. he sits here when he knows he can’t sleep, when he knows his bed holds more ghosts than dreams, more curses than rest, when the days and nights melt into each other and he’s desperate for a respite.

this is where he calls henry most of the time, a conversation he’d always rather have in private, something selfish and embarrassed eating at the center of him whenever it comes to the male he’s known for six years, the fact that despite how vehemently he’d wanted to reject the offer made before, he does still call his ex-mechanic, he does still message him and reach out to him. in the absence of vera, talking to henry has become important.

when he answers though, jaewon never knows what to say, how to begin, having never been much of a manners kind of guy, never been much of a formalities kind of guy, polite, useless words sticking in his throat, especially now that he’s calling henry with someone else in the room, their gaze pinned to his form. his eyes dart over quickly to harper, who stands off to the side, worried this is going to be worse than he could even imagine, but thankfully however, henry already knows how tongue-tied jaewon can get.

“how’s our baby?” is the first question, which thankfully irritates jaewon out of his nervousness.

“serenity is fine for the most part. we just lost another engineer though.”

“audrey’s gone?” henry frowns into the comm and there’s something different about him, something more relaxed than jaewon has become used to seeing him lately, a tenseness in his shoulders absent today, his eyes softer, his demeanor less frazzled. must be a good day.

“no no, she’s still here. we’re heading into the core though, so i dont think we’ll be picking anybody up anytime soon.”

“is the radiator still making that noise?”

“yeah, she said she did what you suggested and it only made things worse.”

a sharp, short sigh. “then she did it wrong.”

“i’ll pass that along.”

“just tell her to switch the off-frame to manual and bypass the hyperchordial connectors– they’re mostly useless anyway.”

jaewon’s face slacks into a deadpan. “should i be writing this down?”

“yeah actually, but only if you want your ship to stay up in the air.” a beat passes while jaewon rolls his eyes slightly and looks out the window, hearing henry chuckle at his own jab, and for a moment it’s almost like nothing’s changed, no amount of distance or stars separate the two of them, henry still in the engine room, still nagging him, still teasing him.

but then of course, jaewon’s eyes flit down to the screen again before looking back over at harper, self-consciousness burning against his ribcage once more. “there’s someone here for you. someone who wants to talk to you.”

“what for?” henry’s eyebrow lifts.

“you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” jaewon shifts, putting the console down and getting out of the makeshift seat, making way for harper to assume the position he’d held, physically and metaphorically as well; a sibling for henry. not that she didn’t have that title long before jaewon ever tried for it, but as he watches the two of them make their first connection in years, he realizes how out of place he really is, how he’d never fit that mold in the first place, never would, never could, just before turning and slipping out of the room.

it’s crazy how, even when you can’t remember someone’s voice and it’s been over a decade, the second you hear it again, you recognise it as if you heard it just yesterday. suddenly all her memories of times on beaumonde with her little brother have sound again, recognisable sound, and the lump in her throat is bigger than anything she has ever thought even remotely possible.

and her eyes are glued to jaewon, to the way he’s focused on the comm, looking a little tense but still dutifully replying to henry’s question; the ship clearly still the biggest connection between the two, right after each other. and harper can only stand there and take it all in, the thing they have going on between them. it��s almost creepy, how she can suddenly recognise whatever she has been holding in her chest for the captain as being almost exactly that which now hangs in between her little brother and jaewon.

the banter is so familiar, so like the way henry always used to communicate with their dad, sometimes even with her too, and to hear his voice, those familiar tilts, that familiar way he speaks of machinery and engineers. she sees a different side to jaewon today, something a little softer around the edges, a little more whole - or maybe she’s just imagining things. but as she watches the short conversation exchanged between the both of them, she finds herself feeling mellow herself, a warmth in her chest for the sight of these two men, her muscles relaxed despite how nervous she feels about actually having to talk to henry herself.

and then jaewon glances over at her again, and harper sees the tension return, sees the way he draws himself back together from what he was with henry to what he is with other people, with his crew, with humanity. she expects the way he introduces the fact that someone else wants to talk to henry, but it still doesn’t make her any less nervous about the actual contact. it’s been over a decade, there’s no saying if henry even wants to know her. let alone have a conversation with her. but jaewon gets up and harper feels obliged to step forward.

with the effort the captain has done for her to start this call, she can’t just walk out. she’s bigger than that. she’s stronger than that. she’s a goddamn assassin, she can stand face to face with the worst people and pull a knife on them like it’s no big deal. if she can’t handle a tiny little video call with her estranged brother, then what is her worth really?

her heart still beats in her throat when she walks up to the pillow seat, hands trembling ever so slightly when she picks up the communicator.

and there he is.

his eyes are looking at the screen of his own comm, flickering over it, taking in her face that has appeared there now. it’s not long before a frown slowly creases his forehead, confusion over her appearance settling in. he doesn’t know her, after all. her face has been altered just so that nobody from back home would recognise her - at least not at first glance. so she can’t hold it against him that he has no idea who she is, because it’s not his fault that she is not who she used to be.

he hasn’t changed at all, though. as if any second he could break out into that goofy grin of his and say something stupid ending in ‘jiejie’ that will make her want to throw him off the deep end although she never would. he’s matured, of course, but his face is still so very him that harper needs a long moment of just staring to take it all in, to truly process that henry is alive and on the other side of the comm in her hand.

“i’m sorry, am i supposed to know you?” he asks, blunt and to the point, as if unaware of how those words could hurt someone - or maybe as if he doesn’t care whether they do. she can’t help but smile, even though somehow there are tears in her eyes as well, too many emotions coursing through her in this very moment.

“well, i had some changes done, but…” she doesn’t finish her sentence. can’t. not with the way henry’s face suddenly grows pale, eyes widening right before he seemingly drops the comm in his own hands, then barely manages to catch it before it hits the ground. and then he’s just staring at the screen again for a solid moment, but harper doesn’t need him to say anything to know he recognised her voice the same way she recognised his. his mouth opens to speak, but no sound comes out yet, and so harper explains before he needs to ask.

“it was my fault, didi,” she says, and she watches the way henry’s expression goes slack, wonders how quickly she will lose her brother again after finding him now that he’s going to hear the truth about everything; their parents, their home, their demise. “i was involved in a revolution and i pissed off the wrong people. they… i mean…” she pauses, blanches, realises she’s never said it aloud to anyone in the entire verse. it’s harder than she thought it would be.

“that’s.. it’s… my fault, jie?” it’s almost a question, and she sees how henry tests the name on his tongue, but it feels all too familiar for her. like being thrown back into the past, like suddenly finding her feet rooted on beaumondian soil again. she can’t help but smile, even though his words make no sense to her. “i was making them ships to attack the corporation with. i was doing shit…” henry trails off, glances over to the side as if unsure how to voice out his own truths. harper knows all too well how that feels.

“i know, henry,” she therefore says, and his gaze instantly returns to her at the sound of his name. “i know what you were doing. but it wasn’t your fault. this wasn’t your fault. it was mine.” she watches the way a deep frown slowly creases his forehead, before he shakes his head.

“whatever, whit, it’s been over a decade. does it really matter whose fault it is they bombed our house? they did it, and that’s all there’s to it.” there’s a lethal edge to his voice as he finishes that sentence, and harper feels the hairs in her neck temporarily rise, before she manages to reassure herself that this is her brother and he won’t just try to attack her. he can’t, even, because they’re only video calling and not actually physically near to each other.

“but what happened, jie? i thought i saw you die…”

she tells him, then, with one last look around the room to make sure no one else is there, and that the door is closed. she sits in the seat made of pillows where plenty a conversation has been held before this one, and she tells her brother everything he needs to know. she tells him of the revolution, of the ships. she tells him of the people who rescued her, and the people who took her in. she tells him of persephone, of the people who helped her. she tells him of the boy she met in the streets of the city, and how she wanted to take revenge.

and that’s the moment where she stops talking. because how do you tell your little brother, the one you know has always looked up to you, that your entire life is now based around the fact that you’re trying to murder as many members of the blue sun corporation before it kills you? she still remembers kinam’s response to his precious whitney turning into a mercenary, so how can she tell henry that his beloved jiejie has become an assassin? 

but she realises that if there is one person in her life that she needs to tell the truth to, then it’s her little brother. the one person in the entire verse who deserves to know the truth no matter the danger it puts him in. because if you can’t be honest with family, then who can you be honest with, right? so she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and confesses the truth. how they changed her face, how they trained her, and how she now kills people on command, all so she could have the skills and freedom necessary to work on her own revenge.

and as she speaks her truths, harper prepares herself for the disgust. or the anger. or something much worse; disappointment. but there is no long silence, no surprise, not even a hitch in his voice when henry speaks again.

“we all do what we must,” he tells her easily, but no matter how little trouble he seems to have with saying it, she knows he’s serious from the way he’s looking at the screen when she opens her eyes again. “we all have our own demons to live with, jie. as long as you’re tearing them down without letting it tear you down, you do what you must.”

it’s funny how easily the walls she’s put around her emotions can crumble down when faced with the absolute acceptance that has always been a fact in her family after so many years without it. tears well up in her eyes, hands trembling heavily as she tries to keep a proper hold on the comm, biting her lower lip to stop herself from actually sobbing. henry’s face merely shifts into a soft, somehow warm smile.

“did you think i was going to hate you for it? i’ve killed people too, whit. i’ve… for years i thought you were one of them. for years i thought my entire family died because of me.” he smiles without mirth and she feels empty inside as she watches her precious little brother suddenly look so tired. “i wanted revenge too, but i’m not as capable as you. i’m an engineer, not a warrior. you know that.” he shrugs, and she almost envies the ease with which he seems to leave it all behind him with that one simple movement. “so i didn’t do anything about it, and eventually the urge to take revenge kind of eroded away, i guess.” his smile shifts then, actual warmth in it again, but this time not for her. his eyes dart off to something she can’t see. “and then i found something else to fill my heart with.”

she blinks, surprised for a moment. suddenly faced with the reality that her little brother is a grown man, that there might actually be someone in his life. she remembers the captain’s comment about serenity’s pilot disappearing at the same time as henry left. she remembers the looks henry used to give one of the girls he worked with. she remembers a lot of things, just didn’t think they’d all come together to this very moment. so she smiles as well, then gently takes a better hold of the comm. “tell me.”

and so he does.

he speaks of getting off beaumonde. of taking a ride aboard a slave trader to get away. of setting foot on persephone all the same. of freeing slaves, of stealing ships. he tells her of being a captain, being a warrior, and harper can see it all, even if she could never imagine her little brother doing any of those things. but the man looking at her through the comm, that one is capable of these things. and harper can only feel prouder with ever passing minute, just looking at the man on her screen. the man her little brother has turned into.

he tells her of serenity then, of vera who took him in despite his ragged appearance. he tells her of the ship, of how the hum of its engine captured his heart and wouldn’t let him give up because he had to make sure she could keep flying. he tells her of jaewon, a boy with fire in his eyes and steel in his heart. a boy who couldn’t stand henry even the slightest, but who somehow still took him along when he stole the ship. he tells her of the years as serenity’s head engineer, of the times he’d barely saved her from destruction.

he tells her of a boy turned captain, of a ragtag band of individuals turned crew. he tells her of ephraim, the cook who became his best friend. he tells her of kafka, the beaumondian boy destined to annoy the heck out of him. he tells her of mina, a sister he never thought he could have again. he tells her of minsu, a partner in crime. he tells her of all the people that became the family he lost, that helped him fill the void he’d been trapped in, that made life a little more bearable.

then he tells her of yihan. she hears it the second he speaks the man’s name. the way his voice changes, the way his eyes shift temporarily over to whatever it is out of screen. he smiles at her then, a little sheepish suddenly, then shrugs. she doesn’t need to hear him say it to know what he is trying to tell her. 

“i’m glad you have someone,” she says softly, thumb stroking over the screen of her communicator as if somehow she could truly touch her brother like that. “it’s good you’re not alone. that you haven’t been alone.” she smiles back at him, gentle, tentative. “it’s good you found a family, too.” she nods her head once, then glances shortly over at the door herself.

“i did, jie,” henry says, and her eyes automatically return to the screen. “and now that you’re there, i need you to take care of them.” his eyes focus directly into the camera then, and suddenly harper finds in herself what it means to be family again. she sees it in his eyes, in the way he is eyeing her, looking right beyond her masks and straight into her very core. “if you need to move on to reach your goal, you should. but as long as you’re on that ship, you keep them safe.”

silence.

she looks at her brother’s eyes on the screen, really takes him in as he keeps looking right at the camera, as if he somehow knows that she’s trying to find something there and doesn’t want to lose this almost eye-contact just yet. then his mouth opens and, he takes a breath to speak again.

“promise me, whit. promise me you’ll protect them. i need you to promise me.”

i need you to promise me.

she’s ten. henry is standing opposite of her with the colourful insect still in his hands. ‘promise me that if i let it go, it’ll survive. i need you to promise me.’

she’s thirteen. henry is holding on to her hand, looking at the destruction left behind by the earthquake. 'but it’s going to be okay again, right? i need you to promise me.’

she’s sixteen. henry stands opposite of her with his hands in his sides, frown creasing his forehead. ‘promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid. i need you to promise me, jie.’

she’s twenty-one. henry’s expression is a perfect depiction of agony as he looks at her in the haze of a burning city. ‘promise me they’ll be avenged. i need you to promise me, whit.’

her name is whitney. she is an older sister first, and no time nor space is ever going to change that. she is whitney lau and when her brother needs her, she goes through fire and doom, she faces storms and destruction. she never, ever lets him down.

“i promise, hen.”

the eye contact breaks as henry looks down at his screen again rather than the camera and she lets her own eyes wander over his features one more time. when she suddenly realises there are tears trailing down her cheeks, she quickly clears her throat and lifts a hand to wipe them away. to her relief, her brother doesn’t comment on it and merely nods at her once.

“take care of our brother too, jie.”

she smiles then, can’t help but chuckle a little too.

“it’s not like he needs someone to fight his battles for him,” she says with a little shrug and henry laughs in clear amusement. soon, she nods her head anyway. “but i’ll be by his side if he needs me.” she takes a breath, pauses, then sighs lightly. “you didn’t have to tell me for me to do that, really.”

they share a grin, and for a short moment, whitney enjoys the feeling of being like this with her brother again, of sharing something as simple as their usual camaraderie. then henry’s eyes shift away again and she know before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“i’m gonna have to go for now, jie. we’re kind of in the middle of some shit here so i need to be all hands on deck. i’ll talk to you again soon, though.” he shoots her another grin, this one entirely like the goofy grins her memories are filled with and she can’t help but grin back, laughing simply because of how full she feels currently. how at peace.

“alright, didi. go invent a metal cure for mortality. i’ll talk to you soon.”

he gives her a thumbs up. a few moments later the screen goes dark and the connection is cut off. the pleasant warmth in her chest lasts for a couple more minutes, but when she finally looks away from the screen, suddenly everything seems a little lonelier than it did before. and harper sinks back into her skin the second she gets up, like waking from a dream you wish could have lasted forever.

but reality kicks in sooner or later. and so she leaves the navigation room behind her, taking with her the reassurance at least that her little brother is currently alive and well - no matter what happened in between.

and the suddenly very pressing issue of her messed up loyalties.

[sharknadoslutt]

In The Name of Science -  Part 5

Prompt: Over the course of a month, both Rex and Dellum undergo their own separate journeys as they discover what it is they really want.

Pairing: Captain Rex X OFC

Warnings: Adult themes  

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

The bustling sounds of a normal Galactic City morning was what had waken Dellum up from her deep slumber. She squinted in irritation at her window, the blinds drawn slightly, allowing the bothersome light to shimmer through as the Coruscant sun lifted into the sky. In most situations she would consider this a lovely way to wake up, however most nights she didn’t go to bed incredibly inebriated. 

Within moments of waking up Dell was met with a pounding headache and a wave of mild nausea. Grumbling in annoyance the woman shuffled beneath the covers, realizing she was experiencing the beginning of a well deserved hangover. Last night she had easily blown through two bottles of wine. If she remembered correctly Rex had helped her in to bed before leaving.. Wait, had he actually left? Dellum could have sworn he had joined her in bed.. But didnt recall him leaving?

She snapped her eyes open and turned to see an vacant space. She stared at the empty bed for a long time, debating on if she were relieved that the man had left or if she was actually disappointed by his absence. Maybe even a little bit of both.

In her groggy self-debate Dell happened to notice there was something on her bedside table. Upon further investigation she was pleasantly surprised by its contents. 

A glass of water and some low dose painkillers were laid out, Rex must have found them in her refresher. Her personal datapad, which she could have sworn she left in the living room, was also there. The small blinking light on the top corner indicated there was something that required attention. Intrigued, Dellum grabbed the small device to take a closer look. 

There was an open E-Document that simply read, “Drink up and get some rest, lightweight.”

The caring gesture brought a tiny smile to Dellum’s lips. If it weren't for her hindered state she may have even laughed. Regardless of her forward reaction, the kind intentions of the Clone were blatant and she couldn’t possibly be more pleased.  

Dellum set the datapad off to the side before swallowing the pain killers. In the process she also downed the rest of the glass, thankful for Rex’s thoughtful actions. With a content sigh she laid her head back on the very same pillow that Rex had the very night before. Taking in a deep breath she realized the pillow still had his scent on it. It wasn’t until her third or forth inhale did it dawn on her that she may indeed be smitten with the clone soldier known as Captain Rex.

~

“So it’s a relief mission?” Captain Rex questioned, bringing his hand to his chin as he digested the information given to him by General Skywalker. 

“Not entirely. This population is being unlawfully harassed by Separatist bodies. You are to get in and take care of any Separatist operations you may see-” General Skywalker was suddenly interrupted by General Kenobi.

“-However, our main priority is keeping the citizens safe. It’s a small area, most of which has already been evacuated. But during your efforts to drive off the Separatist, if you see any civilians escort them back too the safety zone..” The bearded Jedi pointed to a marked off location on the holo-map. “..-Right there.” 

Captain Rex and Commander Cody exchanged a glance before nodding in response to their orders. “Yes sir!”

Over the coarse of the next few hours the two clones divided their men into the appropriate divisions before sending them off into their designated areas. Rex himself was about the depart the station to join his men on the field when he was approached by Cody. 

“Brother, do you have a minute before you head out?” Rex thought his tone to be hushed and more serious than usual. Assuming whatever Cody wanted to speak about to be of great importance, he obliged. 

“Of course.”

The Clone Commander cleared his throat and gestured for Rex to follow him out into the hall. Rex followed but a bit of paranoia bubbled around his mind. Whereas Cody didn’t have any direct command over him or his platoon, he was still a higher ranking officer than he. Had he done something wrong? Or was this a personal matter? 

Rex himself considered them to be friends, close friends. Though he’d never say it aloud, he’d even go as far as to say Cody was his best friend. What could he possibly have to say? Once the two Clones were out in the privacy of the uninhibited halls, Cody removed his helmet before sighing slightly.  

“So, this may be a weird thing to talk about but...” Cody rolled his eyes a bit, as if he was somewhat embarrassed of the words he hadn’t yet spoken. “.. But, as your friend, I have to ask...”

Rex, now more interested in what the man had to say than ever, removed his own helmet so they could speak face to face. “Go ahead, brother.”

“I guess the best thing for me to do is to be direct.” Cody scratched the back of his head before continuing. “I wont say who, due to confidentiality, but a part of 501st has come to me in confidence, worried that you may be breaking protocol.”

While maintaining a completely normal expression Rex felt his heart jump out of his chest.

“Accusations that you’ve left the Coruscant barracks on three different occasions for unspecified personal reasons have been brought to my attention. Now, we all know that leaving the GAR is within protocol but, erm.. personal fraternization with a civie on a regular basis is against the regulations.” Cody paused, studying Rex’s face perhaps for any indication of guilt.

“I’m aware of the regulations, Cody.” Rex said in a calm tone. If Rex had too, he’d put his money on Dogma for being the one to be so offended at his absences that he’d have the audacity to go tattle to their neighboring platoon leader. 

“I know you are and that’s not even really why I’m bringing this up.” Cody reached out an arm, placing it on Rex’s shoulder as a form of affection and reassurance. Then he took in a deep breath, smiling slightly before speaking again. “Regardless of what you may or may not be involved in outside of the the military.. keep in mind there’s a war raging on. But one day there wont be. Until then, ya know... just be careful.” He pulled his arm back down to his side. “It’s easy to get wrapped up in something. Just dont get court marshaled before your life even really begins, brother.”

“Cody.. I do-”

Cody put on his helmet before cutting Rex off. “Let’s speak no more of it. We’ve got clankers to blast.” 

~

"Interesting..”  Dellum squinted as she looked through the microscope, some of Rex’s skin cells resided in the glass slide. 

Between working long hours at the Grand Republic Medical Facility and the time she’d spent with Rex over the past few weeks, Dell hadn’t actually had anytime to properly look over the DNA she’d managed to gather. So she’d carefully stored the specimens in question for her time off. Which was now.

But now that she finally had some time to get things done Dellum was finding it impossible to focus. Her head was in the stars and her captivated heart was right there with it, beating relentlessly to a song that Dell didn’t care for.

She was a woman on a mission and she had come so far and spent so many years researching and studying. The fact that there was something that was important enough to distract her from her work was a bizarre concept. And yet here she was, lips mindless curled into a delighted smile and eyes sparkling as she shamelessly reminisced.

Dellum thought herself too good for daydreaming usually, fancying herself an independent woman. Her mother always ragged on her for being single and unwed, constantly pointing out that being successful did not negate the need for companionship. Dellum usually didn't pay her mom’s words any mind but for some reason, over the past day or so, it had been ringing through her mind like a constant scroll.

Was she lonely? Dellum didn’t think so... Or did she?

But then again, why couldn't she get Rex out of her head? It’d been a few days since she’d seen him, the better part of a week in fact. And that would surely be the last time she’d see him as well! She didn’t invite him back to her apartment and the man hadn’t tried to contact her since. Their interactions were done, case closed.

It was for the best after all. Despite her actions not being of a malicious nature there was still a guilt that twinged at her heart when she remember how their intimacy began with an elaborately staged lie. It wouldn’t be a good idea to start a relationship on something so complicated, right?

“Wait..” Dellum grumbled aloud, sighing deeply as she stood up from her desk. “He’s a Clone.. a Clone!” She continued, scolding herself as she stormed out of her study. 

The fact that she had entertained the thought of wanting a relationship with Rex was astounding, and for many reasons! One, he was a Clone for Forces sake! An unpaid servant too the Republic! Two, she had lied to him, a lot! As far as Rex knew, Dellum was completely unbeknownst to his true identity, not to mention the fact that she had lied about her employment as well. 

Third... Well, There wasn’t a third. And when she attempted to add on more reasons to the list Dellum could only come up with positives. Little characteristics she’d noticed about the man that she’d even admired. He was incredibly kind and caring.. He was handsome, strong, and all around wonderful! 

“Karabast!” Dellum exhaled and shut her eyes, reeling from her self denial. 

“You’re not really interested in him..” She told herself, walking over to pick up her data pad. “You’re lonely.. You just need to get out there, meet some people!” 

From there she pulled up an e-file with her personal contacts, it was time to call some old friends and set up a few dates. 

~

Rex chewed on his lip, finding himself lost in thought. Gripping tightly to his blaster he escorted a small group of refugees back to the civilian relief camp. He glanced back, making sure everyone was keeping up with the group.  He was somewhat pleased to see everyone was managing fine on their own. In the back of the crowd he spotted Kix. They exchanged a brief nod before Rex turned his head back to the front.

It had been a nearly a week since Cody had confronted him.  Even so, Rex couldn’t stop replaying the conversation over and over again in his brain. What exactly did Cody know about his situation? Did he actually know anything or was it all speculation? The uncertainty of it all irritated Rex and the more he pondered the question, the less satisfied he was.

And, even though his friend meant well, where in the great big galaxy did Cody get off preaching such profound words when the Clones had no guarantee of a life after the war? Cody was from the first generation of clones, just like Rex. They were both fully aware that there were no legitimate plans for the Clone Army after the war, whenever that may be. 

Rex, himself, avoided thoughts about the subject all together. The few times he had allowed his imagination to wonder however, grim theories popped into his mind. The most realistic possibility was the Republic carbonating the entire clone army until a day came that they would need another army. Thousands of bodies just frozen; their humanity disregarded as they collected dust in some storage unit. The thought was disgusting and made Rex sick to his stomach.

On the other hand, he had other theories that were far less bleak. For example, after the Republic finally knocked the Separatist movement out of power the Clones would be given real citizenship and a chance at a real life! Each man would be given a small amount of credits and a one way ticket to the system of their choice. A chance to live out their own life, the life that they had rightfully earned through the actions of dedicated service. 

But Rex knew better, no matter how much he tried to deny it, the gravity of the situation was much more harsh. Most people didn’t see the Clones as men at all... they saw them as weapons. As objects. As nothing.

In spite of this Rex gave his loyalty to the Republic. He served the cause too the best of his ability. Why? Well.. because that’s what he had been made to do. What else was there for him? The answer, he didn’t know. 

But that’s just the thing.. There was a whole galaxy out there, wasn’t there? Beyond a clones small reality of formal military protocol and the daily slaughter of his brothers, it was hard to remember that. The Clones may have been tasked with protecting the galaxy but why shouldn't they also be apart of it? It’s concepts like this that often left Rex bitter and confused, unsure if the Republic was as good as he was raised to believe. Why fight against a supposed oppressive movement when he himself was a product of oppression? 

Rex was caught off guard by the soft sound of one of the civilians speaking to him. Blinking off his momentarily lapse of attention he then cleared his throat, grounding himself back in the present.

“Is this it?” She repeated herself.

“Excuse me?”

The natives of this planet were human but Basic was a secondary language to them. The frail woman had a thick accent however she was easily understood. “That there-” She meekly pointed at the large tent in the distance. “That is your camp?”

“Yes ma’am.” Rex answered, continuing to walk forward. He’d been so wrapped up in thought it seems a fair amount of time had passed; the team had arrived at their destination.  

“Single file, everyone.” Kix declared, jogging to the front of the group to stand at Rex’s side. “We need to process everyone promptly. There’s a station that will take your names and-” Rex found himself zoning out, unable to focus on anything as Kix gave the instructions. 

Once Kix had finished Rex entered the tent, taking a look at all the people who were scattered around. Some were injured, most were starving, but the one thing they all had in common was an anxious gleam in their eye. Each time a new person walked in from the processing booth the refugees stared in desperation. Rex imagined they were looking for survivors they knew, loved ones they had assumed dead or lost.

“Tebushka!” Cried one of the men from the tent of refugees as the same women Rex had spoken with earlier entered the area. The man then jumped to his feet, a new wave of energy flowing through his veins at the sight of his beloved. 

The woman stopped in her steps, looking weaker than ever, as if she’d just seen a ghost. “S-Sheban!”  At the realization that her loved one was safe and sound the woman became so overwhelmed that she fell to her knees. 

Rex watched with a warm heart as the man, presumably named Sheban, ran to her aid. Kneeling down next to her he brought the smaller woman to his chest and began to weep. In their native tongue he whispered sweet nothings to her, his tone shaky and hushed. 

A wave of temporary contentment washed through the crowd as the couple embraced one another. After all the devastation that Rex had seen over the past week this was really something he needed to see. Amid the chaos of this war riddled territory these two had managed to find one another again. Rex’s heart felt light, fluttering with a feeling he couldn't quite identify.

As Rex looked over at the reunited lovers Dellum’s sweet smiling face popped into his mind. His stance stiffened in irritation, he’d try to avoid thinking of her all together, which was proving to be an impossible ploy. 

He missed her. It was plain and simple. Being around Dellum made him feel normal, like a real man. Not just another number. And, kriff, he may not be a normal man but Dell made him feel so much more than that! She made him feel.. Well, there wasn’t a word for exactly how he felt. Happy? Hopeful? Lustful? Worried? Scared? Terrified? All of those things. All of those things and more.

~

A whole two weeks and three failed dates later, Dellum had never felt more confused. Not even two months ago, if someone had told her that she’d be hung up on some man she’d have laughed in their face. Romance had never been her forte and having a committed relationship was certainly never a part of her plan.

And yet here she was, unable to fathom the idea of not sharing her bed with someone else. The idea of simply having someone who wanted to be with her, well... it suddenly seemed so crucial. So embarrassingly important that she found it impossible to focus on anything else.

But, why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be Rex?

Pursing her lips she thought more into the subject at hand. She reiterated the reasons why wanting him as a partner was a bad idea in the first place. Of course there were the two obvious reasons, the fact that he was a clone and that their entire relationship would have been built on a bunch of lies. Both of them were certainly valid points. 

However, Dellum was finally able to calm herself off of this ridiculous quest for ill-suited romance with a third and final reason.

“You have no way to contact him.” She reminded herself in a whisper.

It had been almost an entire month since their final encounter. He’d come over to fix her cabinet, stayed for dinner, and that was that. Many a night she sat in her living room and would peer over at the door, hoping for him to knock. 

But it never happened.

“And he hasn’t contacted you.” She continued, finally allowing some ease into her mind. With a deep breath she felt her heart relax. It was easy to move over this mess if she was never to see him again, right? 

~

“Alright. All the details have been gathered. If anything else is needed the appropriate person will be contacted. Until next time, dismissed.”

General Kenobi dismissed the post-mission briefing and multiple bodies scattered in different directions, some heading to their barracks and others to their next mission. Captain Rex held his helmet beneath his arm as he stood near the holo-projector, General Skywalker by his side. 

“What’s our next objective, General?” 

“What?” Anakin questioned, seemingly distracted. “Oh, sorry, Rex... We’re actually here in Coruscant for a few days. The platoon needs to rest up and there are some repairs that need to be made to the Starfighter. I’ll contact you with instructions once the next mission is in order.”

Rex nodded. Though his men truly did need some rest after the month long campaign, he couldn't keep himself form feeling disappointed. He’d been staying busy as possible, keeping his mind off of Dellum. 

“Just enjoy yourself, Rex. You’ll work yourself too death.” The Jedi placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture. “Get some rest for once.”

“What are you going to do with your down time, sir?” Rex inquired casually.

"I have important matters at the Senate that require my attention.”

Rex knew all too well what that meant; Padme. 

“Speaking of which, I’ll actually be late if I dont head out now.” The General started in the other direction. “Keep your comlink close, I’ll be in touch, Captain.”

Rex stood there for a moment, realizing the irony surrounding his situation. General Skywalker was secretive enough about his relationship with Senator Padme Amidala... But not secretive enough. Whether or not it was Rex alone who had been able to see through their deception was a mystery too him. But like a respectable man, and a loyal friend, he kept his mouth shut... Who was he too deny another man of happiness?

The Clone Captain put on his helmet as he started walking, covering his worried expression as he pondered the path ahead of him. Thoughts of what he wanted for himself and what the Republic wanted for him... 

~

Nothing about the night to come was supposed to be interesting or out of the ordinary. Dellum just wanted to take a hot bath, get some rest, and clear her head. Once her head was clear she would finally be able to sit down and analyze the samples clearly and properly.

“There we go..” the green eyed woman sighed contently as she turned the nozzle, causing the water flow to cease. The tub was full of hot water and the finest salts and oils Coruscant had too offer. If this wouldn’t relax her, then nothing would. 

She glanced in the mirror for a moment and shamelessly admired the small braids in her hair, which were pinned too the top of her head. Wearing braids was a fairly rare occurrence for Dellum, which was unusual for an Alderaan female. Even as a young girl she never cared for the traditions of braiding. 

However in her moments of stress she always turned to familiarity. Plus it was an easy and comfortable way from keeping her hair up while she soaked in the bath. She was completely naked, save say her silk bathroom.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking coming from her front door. Understandably this caught her heavily off guard. She wasn’t expecting any company nor did she have any deliveries lined up. With burrowed brows the charcoal haired woman sighed, not ready for social interaction of any sort.

Dellum thought about who could possibly be knocking as she walked down the hall. She had suspected it to possibly be her Rhodian neighbor, Skim, coming to borrow some sugar or something trivial. She tightened her bathrobe, making herself presentable, before finally opening the door.

Dellum stood there agape, staring at the blond haired Clone Trooper in her doorway. It was Rex, her Rex.. What was more surprising than his presence was the fact he was fully dressed in scuffed up Battle Armor. 

“R-Rex!?” Dellum managed to say aloud, completely unsure of how to react or feel. She had promised herself that she was going to forget whatever affections she may have formed for the man, insisting that she’d be better off. But now that he was here, right in front of her, the idea seemed impossible. 

“Dellum, I..” His voice was light and breathy, as if he had ran here. A light hue of red consumed his cheeks and the ends up his lips curled into a sheepish smile. He was glad to see her, and that by itself made the Alderaanian woman grin up at him. “I came to tell you something.”

Tag list (HMU if you want an add or a drop, my feelings wont be hurt hehe): @deepseacritter @littlemisscancer @nerdnerdnerdneeeeeerd @floral-and-fine 

[foreignquarry]

VOICE OVERS

DISCLAIMER:

unfortunately, due to storage limitations and glitches with my computer during the editing process, I lost a lot of the drafts and practice cuts that featured some experimentation. I’ll try to instead describe the different things I tried.

-- voice over --

third person narration -----

the sections of the film that involve third person narrative prose describing scenes at odds with what the viewer sees. initially, i used my own voice for this, in a sort of rough cut just to help with pacing. using this rough cut made me think that using my voice was not the right way forward, just because i wasnt personally happy with the performance i managed.

last year, i did a lot of experimentation with my voice and vocal performance. i developed different techniques to explore the unhuman aspects of communication, especially through a lens of technology. i used a piece of software called Lyrebird to generate a synthetic vocal avatar - an artificial intelligence trained to mimic my own voice. at the time, i used this to distance my physical self and parody my inability to express myself.

SADLY, this software was bought out by some company and is no longer accessible as it was, and no longer for free. it’s hidden behind the facade of this other, new software that im not familiar with and dont care to learn. there are other methods of vocal avatar generation that i may investigate, but this ruled out this option at this stage.

instead, i tried to use some generic text-to-speech programs to generate synthetic voices. i hoped that this would help add to the eeriness of the film, and the feeling of it being abandoned and devoid of humanity. i used a white-sounding male-sounding British-accented posh-sounding voice, to parody this sort of David Attenborough nature/museum documentary. of course, this sort of voice being a voice of God in film, through tradition, speaks to bigotries and patriarchal authoritarianism. like, we need white men to tell us what the things we are seeing are. this was something i was back-of-the-mind-conscious of at the time, but hadn’t fully questioned it. although it’s maybe a conceptually sound idea, it didn’t at all sound good, or right. with this automated voice in particular, the film was lacking a human quality, i felt. there are no humans visually present in the film, and there is a stark absence of humanity in the way the stories are reanimated from the stone. my human arm has been digitally removed, and the traces are all that remain.

--

the next thing i tried was a more intentional and intimate style of performance, modelled after the recent trend of ASMR videos.

Autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR), sometimes auto sensory meridian response,[2][3][4] is a tingling sensation that typically begins on the scalp and moves down the back of the neck and upper spine. A pleasant form of paresthesia,[5] it has been compared with auditory-tactile synesthesia[6][7] and may overlap with frisson.

ASMR signifies the subjective experience of "low-grade euphoria" characterized by "a combination of positive feelings and a distinct static-like tingling sensation on the skin". It is most commonly triggered by specific auditory or visual stimuli, and less commonly by intentional attention control.[1][8] A genre of videos which intend to stimulate ASMR has emerged, of which over 13 million are published on YouTube.[9]

I’m interested in this form of vocal performance in the way it attempts to target and illicit a specific physical reaction. Ed Atkins has spoken about the way technology develops, seeks to conquer various physical senses, ie, IMAX cameras making screens too large for one person’s eyesight, or sound systems rattling bones. ASMR attempts to create euphoric physical feelings, comparable to orgasm. as such, there is a sort of unspoken sexual quality to a lot of these videos and to a lot of these vocal stylings. often, and indeed usually, the speakers or performers in these videos are attractive women. 

in this episode of the podcast Reasonably Sound, Mike Rugnetta makes the comparison between this sort of work, and the sexist history of the female voice assistant, in early telecoms and switchboard operators, up to the present, female Siri or Google Home. there are, maybe unsuitable or offensive, connections to be made between this sort of outsourced female labour, the sexual qualities of ASMR, and sex work. but, i dont think it’s really my place to touch on it. there’s just some interesting dynamics around service and power in this form.

the episode can be found here: 

http://reasonablysound.com/2014/10/02/whisper-quiet/

anyway, technically, this phenomena doesn’t really exist, scientifically. it does exist in the minds of people who watch this stuff. so, there’s a fun pseudo-science sort of thing here, that compels me too. like a sort of witchcraft to do with audio frequencies.

in this vocal performance, then, i tried to allow my voice to take on these ASMR qualities. i whispered the words into my microphone from a very close distance, to encourage uncomfortable mouth sounds, saliva pops, and microphone peaks. these sounds are ASMR triggers, but also betray the audio recording in a few ways. it’s uncomfortable for the viewer to hear mouth and body sounds so loudly. it reveals the work as an unprofessional one, working with what would be considered to be bad recording practices. it also brings qualities of a human body, and particularly gross qualities at that, to the film, lending it a subjective human presence.

--

i feel mixed about how this has worked overall. i think it totally creates the correct responses in a viewer, but there’s no denying that in being the Voice of God for this film, i am painting myself to be the God of this world. my narration, although at odds with what the viewer sees, speaks to my authorial power, and im not sure this is a power i want to be spoken about!! as a middle class, white man, i think i need to question more thoroughly what it means for me to give myself authority in this context...

this was something Dave Beech mentioned in our crits with him, recently.

this is all in my head as i continue to experiment with the narration and voice over in this film. i dont anticipate i will have brought this any further by the end of the project, but that’s ok. here is a video showing the current way my voice is sounding in this passages:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzgbVBFhvRc

first person stories ---

now, this is also complicated.

at the beginning of the project it felt very important to me that the stories would only appear visually, as text, and not as audio. in the writing i have gone to lengths to recreate, phonetically and visually, regional accents and period grammar. understanding my limited ability as a voice performer, i felt it would be gross and inappropriate for me to perform these texts myself. that it would be sort of equivalent to cultural appropriation, especially as im not actually from the South West (unless u go some ways back down the tree).

however, this being said, i ended up opting for a sort of version of a performance. i experimented with different styles of delivery, attempting accents and different styles of voice. i also experimented with isolating select frequencies. the OM frequency of the tuning fork is the one i chose to isolate, producing a distant-sounding voice that is hard to identify as mine:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2hQDgEWFRIM&t=41s

for a necessarily female voice, however, this proved to be tricky. immediately in the crit, it seemed people could identify the recording as a poor attempt at an impression on my part, even though i thought i had done quite well with my shakespearean old woman impression. i ended up taking this audio and distorting it even further. the vocal inflections and sentence patterns are still identifiable, and when watching the text it is easy to follow along with the sound, but it is so distorted and modified i dont feel it can be traced back to me anymore. the femininity and the quality of the accent and the age of the caracter are all identifiable as well, i feel. over the course of this video the clip becomes more distorted, as if the stone tape is losing its fidelity on playback:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d2A6jY-C1UA

i find this absolutely successful, especially on the speakers with which i listen to it. although as i continue working i might go back on this idea.

[dajoezenone]

A Review of “The Devil is a Part-Timer! Volume 4″ (Novel)

Something I like about the whole series of books is how well they flow in and out of each other. Each volume introduces elements that will become important later, follows up on things left unresolved in the last one, and manages to tell a satisfying stand alone story in between.

THAT said though, this particular volume is comparatively worse at telling its own self contained story than the other ones, which should not be the case since this book doesn’t even take place in the same location as any of the other books. Or at least, the main plot doesn’t. It takes them half the book to leave Sasazuka and get to the beach town of Choshi, and then after that the book is nearly over by the time the major plot starts happening. Granted, the slow pacing is something you kinda learn to live with in this series, but in this book it was particularly noticable, as it constantly seemed to be building to having its own story, which ended as soon as it got started. 

Another thing I like about all the books is that its often not said who is speaking when people say stuff. Everyone just has such a unique voice that you just always know who it is, even if its not totally in character for them to say it. It lets the book keep a quick pace when it needs to. idk I like it.

One thing Volume 4 definitely excels at is the illustrations. While there are definitely some I like in the others, the ones I like in this one are absolutely stunning. Like, look at this picture of Crestia Bell holding a sparkler. Its been my phone’s lockscreen for like a month now I LOvee it its beautiful. 

One slightly disappointing thing about this volume, though, is that it left out some of the extra stuff these novels typically come with. It has a little fold out poster thing, like the previous volume, but previous installments have also had resumes of new characters the book introduced, as well as other things like the floorplan of Villa Rosa Sasazuka appartments, or a blueprint of Urushihara’s computer closet and how he was able to keep cool in that stuffy cramped space inside their non-air-conditioned apartment. You know, fun things like that. This volume has none of those things. It doesn’t even have an afterward from the illustrator this time around. And the one from the author seemed much shorter than the ones in previous books. 

That stuff was just so well done in previous volumes that I came to expect something from it. If there’s one thing I dont like about this volume, is that the lack of effort put into that stuff makes it feel less special. I wouldn’t even notice it were it the first book, but this isn’t the first book, and it wouldn’t work as the first book. So it must be judged compared to the others. 

Still, the fact that the Author’s afterword and other stuff is all nitpicky, no matter how special those things felt in the other volumes. Lets talk about the characters and plot of THIS book.  and, fair warning, I’m gonna get pretty spoilery this time around. I may ruin the book for you a bit, if you haven’t read it yourself. 

The book mainly focuses on Maou answering the question of whether or not he really is going to one day return to being Devil King, and use his forces to conquer the Earth; and Emi answering the question of whether or not she really is willing to work with Maou to defeat the forces that are conspiring against them and Alas Ramus. 

Part of the reason the pacing seems so slow in this book in particular is that a large amount of this book is devoted to people talking about these questions, and the two protagonists continuing to put off answering them, just like they have for the previous few books, until the climax when both have no real choice but to answer. And despite the fact that I already said the pacing bothered me, the discussion was almost all good discussion. Especially whenever Chiho was involved. 

Chiho plays a huge role in this book, and despite not being present in the climax, it feels like a bigger role than she’s had in any of the other three. She’s constantly working to make sure Maou works with Emi, and she’s the one that brings up the fact that one day Maou will reclaim his throne, and return to his warring ways. But after her development in Volume 3, she’s become very accepting of this, and even proudly declares that she’ll make herself so invaluable, Maou will make her a General in his army, something that stuns Maou, despite him unintentionally helping give her the idea in the previous book. 

Maou’s development is really nice in this book. Up til this point its usually been somewhat nebulous how serious he really is about certain things. Here, we get a pretty clear picture that he really does want to rule the earth, but he really doesn’t want to wipe out humanity. In fact, he doesn’t think they’re much different from him, and he really enjoys working with them. Also, there’s a really great scene, or rather, good chunk of the book dedicated to Maou showing off his management skills. Through most of this book, MgRonald’s is closed due to renovations. Instead, Maou and co all get jobs at a beach house down by the beach. And when they get there, they discover its a bit of a dump. Maou basically figures out how to fix what he can, cover up what he can’t, and turn a profit despite having to pay for a lot of what he was fixing. 

It sounds really boring when I say it like that, but the whole series is based on seeing the mundane through the eyes of people from a world without all of what we consider boring and normal. Making that kind of thing interesting is where these books have always excelled. 

Emi’s development is what gets more focus, though. Chiho sort of takes it for granted that Maou will eventually become a fusion of the nice man she knows, and the Devil King she knows he used to be. What she doesn’t know for sure is whether or not they can count on Emi being on their side. Emi and Maou have sort of gotten lucky in the past, and ended up working together out of necessity in circumstances. Chi knows they’ll need each other even more once their enemies work together to really launch a good attack at them, but she also knows that Emi is stubborn and prideful, and will need convincing. 

While I think Emi’s arc in the previous arc was done a bit better, this is a big step for her that flows naturally from the ending of the Alas Ramus story, and clearly needs to happen before the story can move on. What happens is hardly surprising, but still a notable change from where Emi was at the start of the series, reluctant to even share an umbrella with the Devil King, much less allow him, Alciel, and Lucifer to fly into battle alongside her, and tell their fellow Demons that she is under their protection. 

SPEAKING of Lucifer, the best part about this book is that he gets a LOT more character development than he’s ever gotten. This is the first book that I feel like the whole of his character is represented at once. In the first book, he was an antagonist, and kept largely to the shadows. In the second and third book, he was revealed to be a lazy, antisocial brat who’d rather hide in the closet than be forced to interact with anybody. The anime gave him a lot of stuff to do through the second story arc that isn’t in the second book at all. In fact, his portrayal in the back half of the anime is the largest difference between the anime and the books. And as much as I really like what they did there, its not what happens here. 

Anyways, this book follows him for a lot of the story, and really does a nice job of showing both sides of his character. He’s lazy and whiny, but he’s also really powerful, and smart about predicting what their enemies are up to. He’s forced to work through part of the book, and there’s more than one scene where he and Emi interact that I really like. They both have the connection of having traveled with Olba Meyer, and Lucifer starts to worry about him coming back, which leads into Emi’s arc and what she’s going through... Anyways, its good. Lucifer is one of the best characters, and after him being largely absent from the previous book, it was nice to see him be so prominently featured. 

The book also deals with the mystery of who Maou’s landlady is, but we dont learn much, and what we do learn is more about her Niece, Amane, who we meet in this book, than about the landlady herself. Amane is a nice character who I hope shows up again, but we really dont see enough of her for me to be sure. 

The book also introduces a couple more Demon characters from Maou’s old army. Most prominently, Camio, who was Maou’s steward in the Demon Realm while Maou was away at war. In future installments I suspect he will act sort of like Emeralda does for Emi, but working for Maou instead, obviously. 

The villains of the book are Demons too, but they’re all forgettable and only even present in like one scene. 

Lets see, is there anything I’m missing?

Oh yes! The prologue focuses entirely on Emeralda Etuva, giving us much more of her character than I think we’ve ever gotten before. It largely teases that Demons are coming in this book, which they do, as well as hinting at some sweet sweet Ente Isla politics that I think will be important in the next book. I’ve been wanting more of her character since I first watched the anime, and while this didn’t justify her importance as much as I’d like, it sated me until the next book, at least. 

Crestia Bell and Alciel both had VERY little to do in this book. Alciel has always been my favorite character, and if I remember right he didn’t get any real focus in the last book either. So that sucks. Bell meanwhile had arcs in both the last two, so her absence felt earned, and made me appreciate the times when she did say and do stuff much more. Not that I ever disliked her before, but her distance from the important bits of the plot allowed her brief times onscreen to be more relaxed and lighthearted than she usually is. BUT from the Epilogue of this book and the back of the next book, I’ve gathered that Volume Five will heavily involve both of them due to Ente Isla politics and Ashiya’s love interest playing big roles there. 

So, I’ll see you guys once I’ve finished that! 

[everykindofnerd13]

Okay, but imagine, about a week after Hinata leaves for Brazil, Kageyama, wallowing in self pity and throwing himself into anything that isn’t remembering Hinata’s absence, receives a phone call. He doesn’t recognize the number, but what the hell? He picks up and is met by the sound of a clearly distressed child.

“Tobio Nii-Chan!” She had called and Kageyama immediately knew who it was.

“Natsu, what’s going on Imoutosan?” He asked in the sweetest voice he could muster.

“I want Shoyo Nii-Chan back!” She practically wailed and Kageyama swallowed his pride.

“I know Natsu, I do too...” He whispered kindly, trying to soothe the 8 year old.

“When will he back?” She asked quietly, presumably quieting, but Kageyama could feel tears pricking at his eyes.

“I don’t know Natsu, but he said he thinks a year or two...” He heard a loud gasp.

“A year!?” She had cried and he had winced, as it settled for him as well, the ten millionth time since Hinata had told him as well.

“Yes Natsu... a year...” he muttered sadly. He could here her sniffling, trying to hold in sobs. He took a deep breath.

“Tobio Nii-Chan...” she called questioningly.

“Yes Natsu?” He asked quietly.

“Since Nii-Chan isn’t here to hug me, or make Onigiri with Mama, will you do that instead?” Kageyama’s breath catches, and against his better judgement he finds himself nodding, though she can’t see him, he lets it happen.

“Of course Natsu...” he muttered and she let out a wet, still very clearly distressed laugh.

“Will you come give me a hug now?” She muttered and Kageyama held in a sigh. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. If he left now, and spent an hour in Miyagi, he could be back by 10, and be to sleep by 11.

“Yeah, Natsu, I’ll be there in a couple hours okay?” He could practically hear the smile in her answer.

“Okay Tobio Nii-Chan!” Kageyama smiled.

“I’ll see you then Natsu,” he began to end the call.

“Okay! See you then Tobio! Love you!” Kageyama was caught off guard by the words, but before he could react, the calm was ended. He sighed, smiled, and shook his head at the ground. Natsu and Shoyo were practically the same person, and he couldn’t wait.

From that day forward, Tobio would go to the house every Saturday to spend time with Natsu. Their favorite thing to do was practice volleyball in the park, where Kageyama would drive her. Eventually she introduced him to her fellow volleyball players on the grade school team. The coach let him come in and teach both the boys and girls team, and he talked about his journey as a volleyball player.

It wasn’t anything that would have been expected of Kageyama, he was the tall, dark, and brooding type of course, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. Mostly because he loved spending time with Natsu, and he loved being there when she would call Hinata, and he especially loved being there when Natsu would call him the week after he missed a call and he would have to sit there and apologize a million times about being out with friends.

As fun as it was though, Kageyama couldn’t Deng the inevitable pain it brought to see Hinata every week but not see him. To see him grow, mature, and strengthen, and know that it wasn’t him helping Hinata reach that point. He couldn’t deny the rare nights where he would actually cry for his partner, rival, teammate, and decoy, wishing that they could have stuck together.

Those nights were particularly bad because he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He was being selfish. Hinata was on the other side of the world not because it didn’t hurt him, but because it was what was best. Hinata has been the one to leave his entire life behind for this, and he did it to better himself, Kageyama had no reason to be so upset.

Or at least he thought so. That was until he realised one day while looking solemnly at an Instagram post by his former partner, that Hinata may have left his entire life behind, but in doing so he had stripped To I oof his own. Sure, volleyball had always been Kageyama’s main focus, but after middle school, he didn’t know if he would get the chance to play again, as he didn’t know if another team would accept him.

Hinata had done it so easily though. Despite their differences and what Kageyama said, and how he acted toward and treated Hinata, Shoyo had so easily let him in and helped him grow as well. And despite so much complaining, Tobio took great pride in his own ability to help Hinata grow through their highschool career.

It felt even worse to realize that Tobio was clinging to the only thing he had left of Hinata in Japan. His little sister and mother. The Hinatas were wonderful people and they always seemed to be so happy when he would come over, but Hinata had never failed to feign joy, there was no reason that his family couldn’t.

Even with all of these feelings swirling in his head, Kageyama didn’t stop showing up to the Hinata household every Saturday, and he didn’t stop playing volleyball with Natsu and her friends, and he didn’t stop taking Hinata’s calls with her either.

One day however, it somehow slipped through his mask of indifference, his ever-present look of numbness, the fear and anxiety slipped past that, but of course no one realized except for Hinata.

“Kags?” Hinata asked softly and Kageyama’s eyes flashed up.

“Yeah Hina?” He asked again and Hinata’s eyes slowly travelled to Natsu.

“I’m really sorry Nat, but can you step out for a minute I need to talk to Kageyama...” Natsu, who was 10 now, looked sadly between her brother and practically big brother.

“Uh, yeah, Nii-Chan...” she answered then sent Kageyama a concerned look before walking to the door, “just... call me back in when you’re ready Kageyama Nii-Chan...” she answered, still very concerned. Kageyama watched her leave and nodded at her request before turning back to Shoyo, his bestfriend, though he was sure Hinata wouldn’t still give him that title.

“Yes Hinata?” He asked and Hinata’s eyes softened with worry.

“Is there something going on Kageyama?” He asked softly, voice so gentle it almost made Kageyama want to punch the screen.

“No...” he muttered, “Why?”

“You’re acting strange, and you keep looking at Natsu like you’re hurt, I want to know what’s wrong,” Hinata pressed, wishing that he could only reach through the computer and touch his bestfriend’s hand.

“I’m fine Hinata... training’s just been a bit more than normal recently, I guess I’m stressed...” Kageyama tried to cover up, he knew what Hinata was talking about. He had been fearing them realizing for weeks.

“Don’t lie to me Yamayama, I know when you’re lying.” Hinata started seriously on the other side of the call.

“I’m fine dumbass, don’t worry about it.” Kageyama ground out between clenched teeth, trying to hold back tears.

“Kageyama Tobio.” Hinata interjected, clearly annoyed, “you are my bestfriend,” Kageyama startled at the words, he could have sworn Hinata had found someone else to call bestfriend now he was in Brazil.

“I want to know what’s going on with you, I tell you everything but you haven’t told me anything in months...” Kageyama couldn’t hold it back anymore, he began to cry, pulling his knees to his chest and beginning to sob.

“Kageyama!” Hinata called, clearly distressed by the sobs wrecking his bestfriend’s body.

“I’m sorry...” Kageyama muttered, it may have been hard to hear through his own sobs, the muffle of his arms, and the low quality microphone, but Hinata could hear him.

“Kageyama, Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s wrong so I can help!” Hinata exclaimed urgently as Kageyama was still sobbing.

“I’m so selfish Shoyo...” he explained, tears continuing to stream down his cheeks.

“What do you mean Tobio?” He asked softly, again, voice so gentle, trying not to push Kageyama but searching so desperately for answers.

“You’re over there, doing what you need to get where you want, to catch up like you always said you would and I’m here, feeling sorry for myself, as if I was the one who left everything behind...” Hinata looked heartbroken by Kageyama’s words. He didn’t get to talk though, because Kageyama let out a self deprecating laugh.

“And of course I would do this, have a fucking breakdown while I’m with your family who were kind enough to let me join them after you left, letting me continue to visit despite my overstaying...” Kageyama hiccuped.

“Kageyama.” Hinata said sternly.

“It’s okay to hurt, and to feel pain over someone leaving, it’s okay to feel when someone important is out of reach,” Kageyama shook his head.

“You don’t understand Hinata...” he argued, “I have everything you ever wanted. I’m on a professional Japanese team, I see your family every week, and I’m living a life I never anticipated and I still feel unfulfilled just because you’re not here...”

“Kageyama Tobio.” Kageyama finally looked up at Hinata, who had a serious face but tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“I know that you think I resent you for getting a head start, and I know you think being with my family is selfish, and that they only keep you out of pity, but you are just as good for them as they are you.” Hinata was stern, and finite. He spoke with such confidence, it almost caught Kageyama off guard. He’d never heard Hinata talk like that about anything other than Volleyball.

“What do you mean?” He asked, wiping at his eyes.

“I mean that you have been there for Natsu while I’ve been gone. Dont you remember how much she used to look up to me? It broke my heart to leave her behind, but you so easily stepped in and filled my role while I’m gone, and I greatly appreciate you for that.” Hinata explained, “And my Mama, god Tobio, she was so worried, about me, about Natsu, but I was more worried for her, I knew that she never wanted to admit to needing someone that would distract Natsu while she worked, but with you and your participation with the volleyball club at the grade school Mama hasn’t had to worry about that, you’re truly amazing, and you’re lightening Natsu’s life, and Mama’s life, and my life in turn Kageyama.”

Kageyama felt his eyes watering but he bowed slightly.

“Thank you Hinata...” he muttered, and Hinata sighed.

“Kageyama, you’re incredible, there’s a reason I’ve looked up to you for so long, despite our differences, I’ve always been by your side, and I consider you my closest friend, so for the love of god Tobio just let us appreciate you!” Kageyama let out a breathy laugh.

“Okay... I will...” he muttered, then turned to look at the door when he heard it creek. There in a crack of the door was Natsu, staring, confused and probably afraid of a clearly distressed Kageyama.

“Tobio Nii-Chan?” She asked softly and he smiled.

“Yes Natsu?” He asked and she grinned, running in to hug him tightly.

“I love you! Just as much as Nii-Chan!” She turned to smirk at the computer, “Mayeb even more~” she teased. Hinata mocked heartbreak by throwing his hand over his heart.

“I’m wounded Natsu!” He exclaimed and she giggled excitedly.

“Well, Kageyama’s been here!” She exclaimed poutily. Kageyama glared at her.

“Don’t say that Natsu, he’s there for a good reason and you know it.” He scolded. Natsu looked up at him bewildered but nodded dutifully. Shoyo smiles at his sister and bestfriend.

“Exactly, and I’ll be home in just two months, isn’t that exciting?” Natsu grinned and nodded happily.

“It is Nii-Chan! I can’t wait to introduce you to my team! You and Tobio can show my team your freak quick from highschool! Even if you’re both better now that you’re grown-ups, I bet you can still do it!” Hinata and Kageyama flashed eachother marching grins.

“You think you can still adjust your set to any height?” Hinata asked and Kageyama smirked and nodded.

“You think you can still jump fast enough to get to it in time?” Hinata went Kageyama his signature smile and a thumbs up.

“Of course!”

[kellyshopeworld]

nineteen till ninety - 2018.10.03

What a day, I guess?

I was trying hard to feel good and not care and ignore my self-pitying thoughts this morning, and it honestly worked pretty well at first!

N**a remembered my bday but was sick and practicing for a prese and didnt get me anything, but she at least remembered! I kind of helped her study/practice in the library and she talked a lot about her fav shows, how shes feeling- down that road.

After that, I got my own homework done and philosophy and bla bla. My outfit was nice and I think I was doing pretty well for the most part! I still feel like I hold back in conversation, but that should be addressed another time.

Anyway, I got home and we did gifts and such, they were all small and useful so I was happy!! My cousin hasnt been well though, so I've been trying to be sensitive, but my feelings were building up subconsciously.

Like, I just wanted to tell her not really any of my friends remembered just to prove that I exist yknow but like wow I started crying a lot harder than I anticipated

And it lasted the entire rest of the day lol!!!

It just felt, gosh I want to cry just at the thought- I know its kind of irrational to think I'll be alone forever, that I won't succeed OR have a social life, but.. Is it really? That's been my train of thought all day.

Everyone cares, but everyone's busy. I'm not a priority enough to anyone to remember petty things like birthdays and the such. Which is ok!!!! They have their own things going on, just like me but in their own way!!!!

Despite that, I still try really hard to make time for anyone that needs it and put on my best attitude when conversing, its something I try to take pride in! But, no one really cares when theres so much else going on. And with social medias and cliques and such, its even more isolating- whats the need?

And when will that ever change? For all I know, we'll only get busier, right? I don't know if it's rational to expect to get any less lonely in the future.

Logically, people don't reach out because they have other priorities/dont have time. If we're only gonna get busier, why expect to become less lonely?

I'm really fortunate my parents took time to listen to me today, but I really wish they had a counterargument to what I said. Even to my old counselor, there doesnt seem to be much of a solution.

If I'm giving it my best effort now, if I'm in a spot with the most opportunities for me and I'm still failing, if I can't live my youth happily, how would everything pay off in the future?

Society and its functions are so, so broad and can't fit every person, regardless of that person's competence/incompetence. Maybe I'm just one of those people, maybe my dreams aren't grand enough to be valued, and maybe my existence is useful, but also replacable?

My intern program always tells us, "no one else can play your part!" And I believe that strongly!! For everyone but, honestly, myself. I can feel the impact everyone has had on me, even a classmate I haven't talked to myself. Because I can't see myself as a third person, I can't see these effects. I haven't received much validation from others that I have had that impact, and I haven't seen effects that are beyond temporary/replacable. Even small changes are important, but.. Is it all worth it? For all the harm I cause, do those small impacts add up to the value of my existence?

I'm not so sure anymore. I tell people its a process for all of us to learn to love ourselves, but I've never been honest. I may have tried theoretically, but when my critique comes from a place of hatred, when I can only ever see my faults, when I see no reason to love myself and the reason for my existence- how do you try? Just tell myself "screw that! You're valuable depsite that!" Seems against my personality- I'm a little too logical to that extent.

Simply put,

The value of my existence depends on the ratio of positive impact to harm inflicted on others. If I have good reason to believe the amount of harm is greater than my positive impact, my value is lesser. And when those positive impacts are replacable, so my value is replacable as well.

Loving myself resorts largely to viewing myself as a person that holds value. If I view myself as not holding value, how do I even attempt to love myself? Logically, it's invalid (this is an actual valid argument accoeding to philosophy! It's pretty hard to refute, depsite absence of facts)

And this sounds frustrating and selfish to be so in my head like this I am largely aware, but these thoughts have been swirling in my head all day long. I guess for the past 10 months, really.

I wish I could find a way to convince myself, but 100% honestly, I don't know if I ever will.

Oh! And maybe you'd think, "well, if you believe your value is so much lesser (which it isnt), thats more of a reason to work towards upping your value and proving your competence to yourself! Giving up isn't the only solution!"

I understand that, especially since I came up with thay argument as I'm talking to myself, but I mentioned before- I AM trying. I AM putting in 100% effort and trying my hardest every freaking day. How am I supposed to top myself trying my hardest? My hardest, clearly, is not hard enough, and that's not something that can be easily changed.

Anyway. Those are my birthday thoughts. I'm grateful to those who remembered, I'm grateful to my parents (especially mom), I'm grateful to bts, I'm grateful to my cousins. There were great things like fries and gifts and even just N**a talking to me for a bit. It makes me all the more guilty for feeling so blatantly depressed today.

But tomorrow's a new day. First full day of 19 I guess! I want to me a new person, I don't want to give up, despite my brain and most forms of logic! I desperately cry to myself to keep pushing!

In the words of yoongi, "if you feel like you're going to crash, accelerate more." That's tomorrow's motto.