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partycatty · 6 months

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dilf!johnny cage > to heal

how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya

warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written

notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.

masterlist <3

•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child

•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.

•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.

•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.

•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.

•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."

•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.

•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.

•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.

•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.

•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...

•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?

•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.

•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.

•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.

•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.

•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.

•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.

•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!

•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.

•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.

•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.

•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."

•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.

•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.

•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.

•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.

•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.

•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.

•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.

•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.

•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!

•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.

#mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11

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seravphs · 1 year

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

“What I want from the river is what I always want: / to be held by a stronger thing that, in the end, chooses mercy.”

wc — 1.5k

tags — quote from Advantages of Being Evergreen by Oliver Baez Bendorf, title from the Louvre by Lorde, feral Gojo, kidnapping, NPC death

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Gojo asks as you’re lying in bed, whispering to each other before you fall asleep as you often do. It’s a strange question, but not worse than other ones he’s asked before.

“I’m not sure…once I helped Shoko steal cigarettes from the local konbini because she wanted to try the delinquent life, but I left money behind when she wasn’t looking.”

He laughs so hard tears pop into his eyes, probably more at you than with you, but you don’t care. You’re as gone for him as he is for you, and that means humiliating yourself for a chance to hear him laugh is an honor you’d accept over and over.

“What about you?”

“You don’t want to know,” he says, hand rubbing your stomach lightly. He can’t help the urge to touch when he sees your pajama shirt ride up. It makes you squirm, his long pale fingers stroking over the tender skin.

He likes it. Something about seeing you belly up - vulnerable, trusting, ready to be plundered - speaks to the worst instincts in him. He never pretended to be a good man.

“No, seriously,” he shakes his head when you pout. You’re a little annoyed by the unfairness of it, after all, you had shared yours with him. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. You really don’t want to know, especially before you fall asleep.”

You’ve never really thought about it before, but Gojo is a bit of a monster, isn’t he?

“Hey,” someone taps your head lightly. “Keep her awake.”

“Is she fucking dying? Hello? Are you dying?”

It makes sense for them to ask. Your eyes keep fluttering shut, but you’re not dying. You were just reminiscing on the past.

“Idiot!” There’s a yelp from somewhere in the room. “I told you not to hit her so hard!”

“I thought she could take it! That’s Gojo Satoru’s girl!”

That hurts more than any of your injuries. How embarrassing, to be caught off guard. When Gojo rescues you, he’s going to make fun of how easily you let yourself get captured.

“Is he coming soon?”

“Why, you scared?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m scared! It’s Gojo Satoru!”

“Good,” comes a familiar voice. “You should be.”

You open your eyes. Gojo looks like Gojo, which is to say-

Impeccable. Mischievous. Divine.

A smile flickers across your face even in your condition.

“Took you long enough,” you croak.

“Don’t move!” One of your guards is holding a knife to your neck. If you had the energy to, you’d sigh at the naïveté. “I’ll kill her!”

In the blink of an eye, Gojo’s by his side. He wrenches his hand off you with nothing but brute force, without even using a technique. You take the dropped knife and plunge it into the man. It’s only right to return the favor. Even that one movement takes so much out of you. You’re shaky on your feet.

“You’re stronger than this,” Gojo chides even as he pulls you into him, supporting your weight. You slide forward limply, letting your chin hook over his shoulder. He hoists you up with one arm to carry you.

You know he won’t hear any excuses. When you’re back on campus and fully recovered, it’s going to be hours of training before he lets you go on another mission on your own again, regardless of the fact that you were set up.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m going to take care of the rest.”

Then the screaming starts. It dies as quickly as it began. You peek up at him. The look in his eyes is terrifying. He doesn’t look all human - or all there. There’s a thirst for blood in him, a debt to be paid.

“Is it over?”

“Almost, sweetheart. Just give me a minute.”

“Please,” you hear someone begging. You think it’s the man who confessed to being scared. It’s so like Gojo to save him for last. Those who know their own place should be rewarded, after all.

“I have a message for Suguru,” Gojo says casually. The guard relaxes a little in his hold. He knows that means he’s getting home. “Tell him he doesn’t need to hurt her to get my attention.”

The guard starts to open his mouth, and then Gojo tightens his grip. “I changed my mind.”

He’s dead before a second has passed.

You don’t remember getting back to campus, but you remember Shoko giving you a Hello Kitty band-aid after she patches you up.

“Just got them,” she says, rattling the little can. “Satoru dropped them off. Says he wants me to use them on Megumi. I don’t have any stickers, so this is all you’re going to get from me.”

She pats your back when you hug her.

“Okay, okay,” she says with a laugh. “I get it, I’m amazing. Satoru wants to see you when you’re done, by the way. Think he’s hanging around the training yard.”

You give her a pained look. “Please, no.”

“Oh yes,” she says cheekily.

When you get there, Gojo is pacing the training grounds like a chained animal. His head snaps up when he sees you. Relief spreads over his face before he whisks it away.

“Good, good,” he nods. “There you are. I was starting to think Shoko was losing her touch.”

“I was just making conversation,” you say, walking over to him. “Some of us are polite, you know.”

“I’m polite.”

“You’re so cute when you’re delusional,” you say, leaning forward to give him a peck on the nose.

He scrunches his nose up, never quite sure how to respond to your overt affection before he just takes it.

“You can call me names after you beat me once,” he says, hefting a wooden staff in hands. He tosses you another one.

“Did you steal these from Maki?”

“Don’t try to distract me,” he scolds. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Come on,” you wheedle. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I must not have trained you well enough if you’re getting taken down that easily,” Gojo teases.

“Don’t play the all knowing teacher with me,” you say. “I’m not Megumi. I knew you when you were struggling with Infinity.”

“Three rounds,” he promises, “and we can get food after. Just give me three.”

You’re smarter than the cronies Gojo just annihilated for you. It’s because you know the cardinal rule of facing Gojo: never expect to win. All you’re trying for are one or two hits.

You give him the first one. Then, right when he’s in your space, you lunge forward, tapping your staff against his shoulder. It touches -

And he doesn’t flinch.

“Cheater! Turn off Infinity!”

“I never said I was turning it off,” he says, returning to his starting position. “I’m going to be serious now. Get ready.”

“Okay,” you laugh, and then you’re flat on your back. Gojo leans over you. He looks the same as he did during the earlier fight, his teeth bared. It’s the kind of expression that belongs on him, blood on his hands and eyes like that of a god.

You can’t stop staring, devouring the image of him even when it shakes something in you. As much as your animal instincts are cowering right now, telling you to roll over in submission, it feels strangely good. You know Gojo would never hurt you. To be caught in his grip like this, still knowing you’re safe despite being able to feel all of the power that thrums through him does something for you. Your breath catches.

“Oh,” he says. “I thought so.”

You blink at him, completely and utterly confused as to what he’s blathering about now. Sometimes the only way to deal with Gojo is just to let him run his course.

“I know it’s the first time you’ve seen me-“ he gestures vaguely in the air, which does nothing to clarify the matter for you, “but it doesn’t have to change anything. Just forget it happened, and I’ll tone it down. You’ll never see me like that again.”

“Babe,” you say, patiently in a tone you usually only reserve for the students. “What are you talking about?”

“I know I went a little harder than I normally do on those curse users, but I was just worried about you! I’m not normally like that-“

Lies. He totally is, and you know it. It makes you laugh at him.

He grabs you by the chin, his big palm covering your mouth in an attempt to shut you up. You know it annoys him a little, to see you so lighthearted when he’s so tense. Must be hard to get a dose of his own medicine.

“Oh, Gojo,” you say, unbearably fond even through a mouthful of his flesh. “I’m not scared of you - I’m scared of how much I want you, even at your worst. I’ll never look away from what you are.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Good.”

“Good?”

“I like the part of you that needs me,” he says, and it’s more of a confession than anything he’s ever given you.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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“—Lance isn’t even paying attention!”

Lance looks up from his phone, noticing Pidge whining to Coran for the first time.

“I’m paying attention,” he lies.

Pidge ignores him. “It’s not fair! He should forfeit his movie vote! He’s not even gonna watch, anyway.” She turns to Lance, glaring. “He’s gonna be too busy texting Keith and making ga-ga eyes at his phone.”

“I will not!” he says, rapidly trying and failing to delete the ‘wish you were here, Dropout’ text he just sent. “I don’t — I wasn’t even texting Keith! I haven’t talked to him in days!”

Not a single person is fooled. Even Coran, who can regularly be counted upon to be on Lance’s side, is raising an eyebrow.

“Honest!” Lance insists.

“Ugh,” Pidge complains, glaring at him before flopping back on the couch. “I still think your vote shouldn’t count.”

Regardless of her petulance, Lance does get a vote, thank you very much. Unfortunately it comes with an abundance of teasing and wiggling eyebrows from the rest of the team, but whatever. At least his point was made, and he doesn’t have to watch whatever nerd documentary Pidge was gunning for.

To his credit, he does actually try to pay attention to the movie. It seems mildly interesting, at least, some kind of Altean classic, and usually he’d be able to at least appreciate the costumes. He really does try.

Fifteen minutes in, his phone buzzes slightly.

Absolutely not, he tells himself. Do not Pavlov yourself to his ringtone, because that would be humiliating. You can go two hours without talking to him. You’re basically a grown-up, for fuck’s sake. You barely even like him mostly. Plus, if Hunk reads over your shoulder and sees the messages you’re sending to him you will never recover.

Nodding resolutely to himself, he shoves his phone deeper in his pocket and returns his attention to the movie. There’s some kind of conflict happening, maybe between the two romantic leads?

Whatever. Lance is paying attention. The movie is just…unclear.

The second time the phone rings, reasoning with himself is much harder. After all, Shiro isn’t even trying to pretend he’s not falling asleep into his popcorn — he’s not paying attention. And Hunk is intently braiding Allura’s hair, so he’s not paying attention either. The point of family movie night is to spend a few hours in each other’s presence outside of training or missions or meals, so it totally counts even if Lance is on his phone, right?

He has to physically sit on his hands to keep himself from checking his messages. Pidge will needle you about it for eternity, he reminds himself, increasingly desperate.

The third time it buzzes, he gives up. His hands fly to his phone so fast he cringes at himself.

How embarrassing.

Fully aware his ears are bright red, he clicks on the notification, opening his and Keith’s communication line.

mullet-head:

lance? you there?

mullet-head:

did you fall asleep during movie night

mullet-head:

are you pulling an old man shiro

Lance smiles to himself, glancing over at the snoring leader of Voltron, drooling on Coran’s shoulder. Keith never misses a chance to clown on his brother, even if Shiro can’t even see it.

loverboy:

i did not fall asleep u butthead

loverboy:

i’m not shiro

loverboy:

i’m not six i don’t need naps

Keith doesn’t respond for a second, and Lance pictures him with his head thrown back, eyes squinted shut and mouth open wide in the startled way he laughs when he unintentionally finds Lance funny. It makes something warm and simultaneously bitter churn in his belly, thinking of how many lightyears away he is from that brighter-than-the-sun laughter.

mullet-head:

stop making me laugh i’m going to get caught

mullet-head:

i’m on some boring patrol i’m not supposed to be on my phone

Lance narrows his eyes in alarm. If that dumbass is texting him instead of paying attention on a mission, he swears —

loverboy:

patrol where??

loverboy:

please don’t tell me ur dicking around on ur phone on a GALRA BASE

mullet-head:

no no no it’s some supply centre

mullet-head:

look

The texting bubble spins for a moment, loading, then a video comes through. Lance glances around the room surreptitiously, but no one is paying any attention to him. Pidge is chatting quietly with Allura, Coran is totally wrapped up in the film, Shiro’s still sleeping, and Hunk has moved to Allura’s other side to braid the hair on that half of her head. Still, he turns the volume as low as he can, angling the phone away from the others.

The video footage is shaky at first, eventually settling on Keith’s face. He looks good — well fed, healthy.

Handsome.

Embarrassed, Lance pauses the video, taking a moment to observe Keith’s face. It’s stupid and gay and sentimental, but — Lance has been looking for a reason to ask Keith to send him a picture, a video, hell, a voice message. Something to confirm, aside from texts, that he’s alive and well, something for Lance to hold on to, a glimpse of the face he’s missed so dearly (not that he’ll admit it). He’s been too embarrassed to ask, but wanting to feel like he’s in the same room as Keith again.

“I thought the Arizona desert was boring,” video Keith says, exasperated. “But at least it has cool lizards. This place has nothing but rocks, sand, and more rocks. Look.”

The video flips around, showing off Keith’s view. He slowly moves the camera to the side, presumably so Lance can see just how boring the rocks and sand and more rocks is.

Lance squints.

Hang on a second.

Is that flurexonomite?

He rewinds the video slightly, pausing it when he sees it again. He brings the phone close to his face, looking as closely as he can, and lets out a delighted little laugh when he sees it.

It is! It’s flurexonomite!

loverboy:

GET ME THAT ROCK

loverboy:

PLEASE

He screenshots the frame with the rock in it, circling it and sending it back.

loverboy:

THIS ONE

mullet-head:

are you serious

mullet-head:

i send you a video of this boring ass desert that i’m stuck in

mullet-head:

and you focus

mullet-head:

on a rock

mullet-head:

you massive nerd

Lance pouts, even though Keith can’t see it and feel properly guilty. That’s not fair. He’s not a nerd. Rocks are just cool! And he hasn’t been able to find flurexonomite, possibly the coolest of all space rocks that Coran has ever told him about, anywhere!

loverboy:

PLEASE JUST GET ME THE ROCK I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER

mullet-head:

i cannot believe what i am reading with my own two eyeballs

mullet-head:

you

mullet-head:

who calls hunk and pidge a nerd every single day for any reason

Lance can’t help his defensive scoff.

“Everything okay, buddy?” Hunk asks, beyond amused. Lance shoves his phone in his pocket, or tries to, but he’s flustered, so somehow in his panic the phone goes flying out of his hand and onto the floor, face-up, messages clearly displayed.

Lance has never moved so quickly in his life.

He scrambles to the floor faster than he can even register he’s doing it, rolling right off the couch and throwing himself at the device. Unfortunately, Pidge reaches it first, scooping it up with a cackle and tossing it to Hunk.

“Read it out loud!”

“No!” Lance screeches, lunging after the device. Hunk is quick, though, standing on top of the cushions and holding the phone far out of his reach.

“‘Wish you were here, Dropout —’” he starts, gleeful.

“Stop! Shut up! That was a typo!” He attempts to climb Hunk to no avail; the man simply holding him away with one big arm. He’s not even struggling.

Lance knows how embarrassing some of those messages are. He cannot let them see the light of day. The time has come for drastic measure.

Somehow anticipating Lance’s impending violence, Hunk tosses the phone to Allura, who catches it easily and runs to the other couch.

“‘Saw someone dressed in all black on our last diplomatic mission and thought of your emo ass,’” Allura recites.

Lance screams, collapsing to the floor. He won’t be able to wrestle his phone away from her. She could kill him with a toothpick, probably.

He is doomed.

Allura clicks a few buttons and then laughs particularly evilly, making something ice cold shoots through Lance’s veins.

She hasn’t found his notes app, has she?

He can’t risk it. If anyone finds out what he’s written on there — oh, God, there are angsty song lyrics. About Keith. He is going to die. He is going to melt into a puddle of humiliated goo. This cannot happen.

With an ear-splitting war cry, he jumps to his feet, sprinting at her at tops speeds and tackling her to the ground. Before she can react, he yanks the phone from her hand and scrambles away at the speed of light. He dashes out of the common room before anyone can stop him, speeding to his room and locking the door behind him. He walks over to his bed and flops onto it, screaming into his pillow as loudly as he can, face the colour of a red star going supernova and just as hot.

“Every part of being alive is a prison,” he laments to no one. He vows to wallow in his own self-pity for all of eternity.

His phone buzzes.

He gets up to check it so fast he honestly has to take a moment to consider if being this gay is truly worth it.

mullet-head:

video.attachment

He brightens. Two videos in one day?!

Being this gay is worth it, apparently!

“You are truly the biggest nerd I know,” video Keith tells him solemnly. His indigo eyes are bright in amusement — soft, even. He takes two steps and then bends down — Lance keeps his eyes firmly on his friend’s face, he does, he does — and picks up the brown, dusty rock.

Lance heart skips a beat when he realizes it’s the exact right rock, the first time. Keith must have looked very carefully at the photo to get the right rock, for all his teasing. The rock is as tiny as a pinky nail, and it doesn’t exactly stand out.

God, Lance loves him so fucking much.

Video Keith slips the rock into his pocket. “You’re lucky you have me, you goober.”

The familiar banter makes Lance smile wider. It took he and Keith a long time and a lot of understanding to come to the point where they are now, the familiarity, the comfort he knows Keith must feel around him to let his guard down so blatantly, to be so transparently teasing and playful.

It makes his heart hurt, a little. He wishes there wasn’t a screen and a bajillion miles between them.

———

The worst part about the Blades, Keith thinks, is that there’s absolutely zero in between. He’s either bored out of his mind, polishing his sword while patrolling some random supply station, or he’s running for his life, barely making it out of an exploding Galra warship in time to keep all his limbs. There are no middle moments, no time for him to be anything but praying for death to at least put him out of his mind-numbing misery or praying to make it out of a situation alive. No family meals, no strange space mall supply runs, no training with Altean superhumans.

He misses his family.

But he knows he can’t go back. At least not permanently. He made this decision for a reason, and that reason is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.

(Lance is more important to him than a little bit of boredom or some measly mortal peril.)

He sighs as he stares at the bunk above him, tracing the shadows of the bed for the zillionth time. He’s not tired at all, but there’s fuck else for him to do in between now and his next mission. He’s already trained all day today, and there’s only so much he can do with a sword before he wants to put it through his own head.

He misses training with a partner.

He shifts around, looking for his phone. It’s late, and he can’t text Lance — the dumbass is in a healing pod right now because he pulled a Keith and tried to fight a nine foot tall Galran commander with his own two hands to cover for someone — but maybe he can send him a couple messages, anyway. Just for when he wakes up.

It’s not like he has anything better to do.

He leans over as far as he feasibly can in his bunk, trying to reach his uniform. He manages to hook his finger around the sleeve, pulling it closer until he can reach his pocket. He thinks he left his phone in the right one, if he can just pinch the corner —

His hand runs over something small and rough, and he stills.

He pulls out a rock, and for a minute he’s confused — he just washed this thing and he’s been on base for three days, how the hell did a rock get in there — then it hits him.

He smiles. This is Lance’s dorky rock.

He leans back onto the mattress, holding the rock out in front of him. It sparkles slightly in the low light of the barracks, it’s many minerals catching the glow of the Balmeran crystals. It looks like a tiny little jewel in his hands, like a sparkling piece of amber.

Like Lance’s eyes.

Immediately he’s embarrassed with himself for thinking it. It’s so — it’s such a fucking gooey thing to think, to compare this sparking crystal to the deep brown of his teammate’s eyes. It’s not even the right brown, anyway. This rock is on the lighter side — Lance eyes aren’t as ambery orange. In the right shadowy lighting, they’re more of a black, so endlessly dark that you could lose yourself in them, that you could be swallowed right up in the look.

Not always, though. Keith lifts the rock up a little higher, holding it right in front of one of the crystals, and squints, letting his eyesight go blurry.

Once, when they were on a planet startlingly like Earth, Keith and Lance snuck off from a gala and ran to the beach to watch the sunset. Lance has smiled so wide, then, squishing his whole face, and when the golden rays of the settling sun had hit his eyes, they melted into a honeyed amber the exact same shade of the crystal. Keith remembers his mouth going dry, his mind going completely blank. He’d been so starstruck by the sight that he hadn’t even dared to breathe.

Lance had thrown sand at him for staring, and cackled as Keith cussed him out.

Keith pulls his blanket up to his chin, smiling. He closes his eyes, rhythmically rubbing the roughened crystal.

He falls asleep faster than he ever has before.

———

The castle is buzzing with excitement.

Most of its resident are too excited even for words. Breakfast is a mess, everyone bouncing in their seats, grinning so wide they can barely eat. Pidge inhales her food so fast she chokes. Hunk sporks himself in the nose, not paying attention.

It’s visiting day.

In less than two vargas, Keith is going to land a pod in the hangar, here to stay for two full days. One of those days will be a mission, sure, but after that they’ll have several hours to just hang out with their friend for a while, catch up, remember how much they miss him. It’s exhilarating.

They all gather in the hangar when he messages to say he’s close, practically vibrating in place. None of them speak, too pumped for words. They all watch the doors with wide eyes, reading to sprint the moment they open and Keith lands safely.

Only, one of them is too impatient to wait that long.

“Keith!” Lance cries, sprinting forward when the pod is a foot from the ground. Before the pod even lands, the hatch is thrown open, and Keith comes tumbling out, half falling to the floor.

“Lance!”

They crash into each other so hard it’s a miracle they manage to stay standing, embracing so tightly it has to be painful.

“You know, I was once married,” Coran remarks. “I went on a two-decaphoebe exploratory mission in that time. When I returned, I was not embraced that tightly.”

“That’s because you didn’t have an intensely homoerotic rivalry and then a weird half-friendship half-romantic relationship you refuse to acknowledge as such that racketed up your sexual tension to levels that cannot be recorded,” Shiro explains.

Four pairs of eyes blink at him.

“Nobody is as gay as they are,” he simplifies.

“Well, gay or not, I’ve lost patience. Lance does not get to hog all the Keith time, not on my watch.” Hunk marches towards the couple (couple of besties) and lifts them both off the ground in a hug that looks to have rearranged their spinal cords. “Keith! Buddy! We missed you!”

The rest of the team rushes in soon after, hugging and holding and generally just piling Keith with all the love they’ve pent up in his absence. Keith is bright red by the end of it, but visibly pleased, obviously flattered.

“I missed y’all too,” he says. “Seriously. Blades aren’t the same.”

With a herculean amount of strength, they manage to pull away to give Keith some space, heading towards the briefing room to prepare for their mission. They have a fleet to destroy, after all, and an Empire to cripple.

And, of course, the faster they complete their mission, the more time they can spend together with no obligations looming over their heads.

They debrief quickly, making sure not to miss any important information but determined not to dilly dally. They split up to suit up, then run off to their respective hangars, ready and rearing to go. Keith lingers for a second next to Lance.

“Good luck, Sharpshooter.”

Lance grins. “I don’t need it, Samurai. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Wrong ass to be kicking, dontcha think?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Keith, you’re with me,” Shiro reminds him, when neither fool looks to be focusing on the impending mission, gently knocking his brother’s shoulders.

Keith nods. “Yeah, coming.” He jogs away from Lance, flashing him one last smile. As he turns to corner, he pulls out the crystal from his pocket, gently pressing it to his lips before slipping it back where he got it.

“What’s that?” Shiro asks, gesturing to the pocket.

Keith looks shifty, like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Uh, just a good luck charm.”

“Since when do you believe in luck?”

Keith shrugs. “Since I started feeling lucky, I guess.”

Far behind them, stopped to tie his bootlace, Lance stares at where the brothers disappeared into the Black Lion’s hangar, wide-eyed.

He recognises that rock.

———

Several hours later, six paladins dock back on the castle, exhausted but satisfied.

“Man, I missed having a full team. That mission was way less horrible than usual,” Pidge says.

“Indeed,” Allura agrees tiredly.

“Almost like we had a good luck charm,” Lance whispers to himself, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Shiro smiles at them all. “You did great, team. This was by far the most successful mission we’ve had in months.” He turns his smile to Keith in particular, who grins right back. “We missed you, buddy.”

“Missed you too,” Keith murmurs.

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow,” Coran says. “Right now we are all exhausted. Off to bed, my dears.”

They all comply without protest, stumbling out of the bridge and down the halls to their rooms. Keith and Lance walk together. It makes Lance smile, remembering when they used to walk each other to bed, everyone else long asleep, stupid tired after a late night of planning. He doesn’t miss the stress, but he does miss leading with Keith, more than he’d like to admit.

“Hey, wait,” Keith says as they approach their bedroom doors, hand on Lance bicep to stop him.

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, have something for you.” He digs around in his pockets, looking panicked for a moment when he can’t find whatever it is he’s looking for, then visibly relieved when his fist encloses around it. He holds it out to Lance, who accepts it without question. Onto Lance’s palm he drops a sparking brown crystal.

“The flurexonomite,” Lance says, grinning.

Keith rocks back on his heels. “Yeah. I’ve been keeping it safe, you nerd.”

Lance looks up at him softly, unable to summon any playful exasperation at the tease. “Thank you, Keith.”

Keith smiles softly at him. “‘Course.” He puts his hand on his lockpad, opening the sliding door. “Night, Bluebell.”

“Goodnight, Willie Nelson.”

———

The next day is as crowded and energy-filled as expected. To avoid fights over Keith-time, the paladins had made a schedule: most of the day will be spent all together, but each person gets one designated hour of one-on-one time to do as they please. Keith gets dragged from person to person, blushing every time someone grumbles about not having enough time, from sparring with Shiro, swimming with Lance, and painting his nails with Allura.

He cries four separate times. It’s nice to remember how loved he truly is.

As days tend to do, however, it eventually comes to an end. Supper is a somewhat bittersweet affair, everyone knowing that once it’s over, Keith has to head back to his pod, and they won’t see him again for weeks, even months.

They try to make the most of it.

Hunk and Lance cook up something to honour the occasion, Pidge at the kitchen door with Lance’s gun to prevent Shiro, Coran, and Keith himself from so much as looking at the food so they don’t fuck it up somehow. Allura serves her solemn duty as taste-tester, ensuring all food is fit for a royal feast.

It’s amazingly thoughtful, even though Pidge is way too trigger happy. Keith cries again halfway through supper, and half the table joins him.

By the time the team walks him to his pod, they’re all pretty cried out, and determined to put on a happy face. They all hug Keith for way too long and with way too much force, each making him swear to call and text frequently, and to not do stupid things or get himself killed. Keith promises to do one of those things.

Eventually they all, with very knowing and smug looks, wave goodbye and head out, leaving Lance and Keith alone. Both pointedly pretend that they’re not embarrassed about it.

“I have something for you,” Lance says, when Shiro finally exits.

Keith glances at his gigantic care package of collective gifts from the rest of the team, raising an amused eyebrow. “Will I have space for it? The barracks at the Blade are small as shit, you know.”

Lance huffs a laugh, nervous smile pulling at his lips. “It’s, uh, pretty small. Promise.”

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, then grabs something out of his pocket, holding his fist out to Keith. In his outstretched palm, a mirror of the night before, he drops a silver chain, attached onto a small —

A small, brown stone.

The flurexonomite.

“Good luck charm,” Lance explains quietly. He hesitates for a moment, then powers on. “And a piece of me to carry with you. If you want it.”

For a moment Keith gapes at the precious thing in his palm, the chain Lance must have made by hand sometime when Keith was hanging out with the rest of the team today. It’s simple, just the chain and the rock, but to Keith it’s more valuable than all the universe’ riches put together. To him it’s everything. To him it’s a message.

It is, without even a sliver of a doubt, a manifestation of Lance’s feelings for him. Of his feelings for Lance, too, having picked up the stone at all.

Keith decides to hell with the waiting. To hell with the war, with the consequences, with the long-distance. He grabs Lance’s face in his hands and kisses him as hard and fast as he has been wanting to for longer than he’s willing to admit.

“I fucking love you so much,” he mutters against soft, ful lips. He feels Lance’s smile.

“Yeah no shit, stupid. I gathered that when you kissed the rick I begged you to pick up for me before a mission, like it was a picture of your sweetheart in World War Two.”

Keith huffs, but can’t resist kissing him again. “Are you physically incapable of saying I love you back like a normal person, you dickhead?”

Lance laughs loudly enough to disrupt the kiss. “Yes.” A beat. “I love you too, mulletbrain. If that wasn’t abundantly clear.”

Keith smiles, kissing him one last time before pulling away. “It was.”

He lets Lance clasp the necklace around his neck, relishing in the touch of Lance’s cold fingers on his skin, committing the feeling to memory.

“I’ll miss you,” he says from the pilot seat. “I’ll call you.”

“If you don’t, I’ll fly Red to the Blades and kick your ass,” Lance informs him.

Keith feels like his heart is going to burst. “I don’t doubt it.”

When he finally takes off, castle shrinking to a dot behind him, the weight of his good luck charm around his neck makes leaving feel like less of a goodbye.

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 3 months

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It all comes down to this

Carmy and Syd have much more in common than their passion for food.

They both grew up without one of their parent figures and regardless of the reason why that happened, the end result was the same for both: an absent parent and having to learn to live with that deep wound at a very young age. Pivotal.

Both had alcoholic parents (this is my educated guess about Mr. Adamu seeing as he drinks soda, the other option is that he doesn't drink alcohol because of religious reasons, which I don't think is the case). Only Emmanuel is a recovered alcoholic and Donna, well... she's Donna. Also pivotal.

The catch/difference is that these factors caused trauma in Carmy, however in Syd's case, since she was raised by a loving parent who has overcome his addiction (probably because of her) she didn't develop a trauma response like Carmy did. She did develop a G-Woman complex though, but that is something I will probably address in a later post because this one is about certain Sydcarmy parallelisms not solely about her.

They both developed another trait (by compensation) they have in common: A need to take care of other people, thus they both work in the hospitality and service industry. And they both developed a coping mechanism: Creativity. Whether that is through drawings or through coming up with recipes. The culinary arts are all about creativity as well, but not just about that, also about service and about KEEPING THINGS UNDER CONTROL, which is also another thing they have in common, they both want that, chase that. But they act differently when they don't get it and act the same way when they lose it. Aka: Review 1x7.

Their paths meet in more ways than one.

They understand each other and speak the same language. And even though none is a master in communication skills, they can definitely manage to understand each other without using words. Even so, as their relationship evolves, that should change.

Should be really interesting to see them both overcome their shadow aspects together, through working together and growing together, not just professionally.

If they didn't wanna do that, Braciole 1x8 would have ended differently.

If they didn't wanna help each other, they wouldn't have said this, because we all know it wasn't easy for them to admit it:

That's why, as I mentioned here and here, the show is about the FOUND FAMILY concept and about overcoming loneliness. No one achieves the level of growth the main characters have to achieve, alone.

#sydcarmy #the bear #the bear hulu #syd x carmen #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #sydney adamu #chef kiss #chefs kiss #donna #GINGERPOVS #the bear meta

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kikithecoconut · 2 months

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Not in a million years will I recover from the chaos of the family dinner scene in the first episode of usher. It is so funny. Everything is so unserious regardless of how serious the topic is.

Breaking it down per person at the table.

Roderick trying so hard to be supportive of Mori’s cakes, really hyping her up more than he’s ever hyped up any of his actual kids. Then proceeding to place a 50 million dollar bounty on the head of one of his kids - he doesn’t know who it is but hey if one of the others work it out they can have his millions!!

Madeline, perhaps the only fully serious person at the table trying to explain that these NDA’s are in fact consequential and that she will literally kill the mole and will not care as she does it.

Juno who spends the whole scene drinking wine, her only line of dialogue being in response to Camille who is MOCKING HER MARRIAGE

“Speaking of prenups, how are things Juno?”

“Going great,”

SPOKEN WITH GREAT EXHAUSTION please give this girl a break

Arthur Pym who spends the entire scene in silence but while handing out NDA forms bashes Tamerlane in the head and doesn’t even apologise

Freddie being Freddie…..so oblivious and silly

“By neutralised do you mean sued into oblivion, taken out of the board, on the streets?”

“Neutralised. Like dead.”

Please Frederick it’s almost as if you’ve never met your aunt.

But then towards the middle of the scene when Vic is like “if any of us really were collecting or uttering of family secrets, I think we all know who that is.”

AND HE JUST ASSUMES ITS HIM AND HES LIKE “fine!!!! Watch me sign it then!!!!”

Tamerlane (and Bill) taking her one opportunity to mock Frederick, “how DO you spell Fraudrick?”

Bill trying so hard to be polite and make conversation with Ali, “have you gotten to sign an original Pym yet? It’s a rite of passage, just wait until you see the prenup.” He is trying his best go bill go!!

Vic remains shockingly tame throughout this scene

Ali asking to let her guys look at the NDA and immediately regretting it

NAPOLEON USHER THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭

“I bet it’s cake.”

“Waaait. Is this also cake?”

“Debutant balls, is that what you think I do?”

I hope he knows how funny he is because he was truly the star of this scene although Camille is genuinely hilarious

Camille…..

“Oh! Paperwork from the Pym Reaper, always a blast.”

“You guys, we really should get together more often, it’s just a balm for the soul.”

“Speaking of prenups, how are things Juno?”

NOT EVEN LOOKING UP FROM HER PHONE AS ITS HANDED OUT.

Perry doesn’t have any lines either 💔

But all of this being backed by dramatic violin music that sounds like it should be playing at the start of the apprentice takes it

This scene is so good. The chemistry between all of them is hilarious I truly wish they’d all been in more scenes together before kids started dying left right and centre

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getvalentined · 3 months

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I need to talk about the ending of Rebirth, because I'm apparently the only person in the world who liked it.

Putting everything behind a cut, and I would request that anyone who reblog this with spoiler commentary do the same as a courtesy to people who haven't beaten the game yet. It's been just shy of a month since it dropped, so we're still well within the statute of limitations on spoilers. Be nice.

A lot of people are really, really upset about the ending. It's been really weird to have people who went on and on about how they'd be livid if Aerith survived now being furious that she didn't, but I guess it just proves that not only can you not please everyone, but some people are incapable of being pleased.

I've warned everyone I know that Rebirth is the middle part of a trilogy; it was going to end on a low note regardless. That's how trilogies work, the 'ending' of a trilogy's second part isn't an ending at all, it establishes the launching point for the conflict of the conclusion. As a result, second parts will generally strive to be satisfactory with the understanding that it will basically never be satisfying. I'm not going to go into that any more deeply because it's not the key takeaway here, but it's super important to keep that in mind when addressing the ending of any second part, not just Rebirth.

The fact of the matter is, Aerith was never going to survive. That was never on the table, because it was never anyone's decision but hers.

In the OG, Aerith allows herself to be killed so that she can petition Gaia for aid directly, so that she can commune with the planet in-person in order to make sure Holy is activated in time to save everyone. She chose that. She didn't want to die, but she did want to save everyone, and she understood that the only way to do that was by sacrificing herself. Changing that would have been a huge insult to her character, a complete teardown of everything she's been since we met her all the way back in 1997, and it was never going to happen.

In Rebirth, Aerith is capable of dragging Cloud's consciousness into a pocket dimension she's made out of the last days of a terminated timeline in order to both hide him from Sephiroth while he recovers, and to get a working copy of the White Materia that she can use to save the world in the timeline that Sephiroth has chosen to 'save.' She has her own army of Whispers that can and have changed things, that can and have saved people from incidents that should undeniably have killed them. Incidents that did kill them.

If Aerith had wanted to survive in Rebirth, she would have. Sephiroth couldn't have stopped her. We see that in the game, because she literally fights him at the end alongside Cloud, even though she's already dead. Cloud saved her, and then he didn't—and then he did, and then he didn't, he did, he didn't, back and forth and back and forth and we don't know who decided where it stopped.

Sephiroth wanted Aerith out of the way, certainly, but in the end he left of his own accord. He's also the one trying to change the timeline from what it was originally, he doesn't want things to go the way they did in the OG; it's entirely possible that it was Aerith herself who dragged the timeline sideways into the one where she died, because he's wrong and she knows that's the only way to stop him. (I don't necessarily think this is the case, but it's not even close to set in stone.)

I see a lot of people saying that it doesn't matter, nothing mattered, nothing anyone did made a difference because she's still dead. That the only difference that could ever have mattered enough to make it worth it would have been for her to survive—even though it was and has always been Aerith's decision whether or not that came to pass—and I literally can't disagree hard enough.

I think we—and by 'we' I mean the players as much as Cloud and the rest, this is important—changed things in the only way that they could have been changed without condemning the planet to Sephiroth's desperately lonely form of salvation.

When Aerith died in the OG, it happened so suddenly that there was nothing we could do. There was no closure, we never knew if she understood how loved she was, that we would have traded places with her if we could, that nobody wanted her to have to do this alone. We could never really know if she understood how sorry we were to have failed. We didn't get to say goodbye.

Over a quarter century later, we got that. After all this time, decades of knowing that there was nothing we could do to save her but wishing that we at least could have seen her off, Rebirth gave us exactly that.

Aerith wakes up. She's dead because she has to be, but she wakes up. She gets to see how much she's missed, she gets to say goodbye, and we get to say goodbye back. We finally have the chance to not have her taken from us, but to let her go, and to see that it's her decision to stop while everyone else keeps going. It always has been.

Aerith was never going to survive. That was never going to change, because it's not about her—it's about saving the world, and it's about you.

But things are still so different this time, because we finally got to say goodbye, and I can't think of difference we could actually make that could ever be worth any more than that.

#ff7 rebirth spoilers #fandom ramble #aerith gainsborough #final fantasy vii #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth #ff7r #ff7rb

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b3achysurfur · 4 months

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ANALYSISSSS TIMMEEE

Call me a reacher, but actually I’m a preacher. About to make y’all learn this lore like I’m your teacher. I don’t care if you get dreary, y’all gon hear this theory.

I know y’all want the paper crane cult to be evil , but I think it’s the other way around tbh. the cranes probably aren't bad people, they believe what they're doing is correct.

They also have a reason to do what they are doing (or at least they think they do). Not sure exactly what it could be, since non-fastpass literally have crumbs of info on them, but the way I see it is they have a “being mean to be kind” mindset.

Don’t get me wrong, they know turning people into phantoms is a horrible thing to do. They are aware their actions are harmful, both through self-reflection and outside opinions. But I believe their organization is either going to end up being the lesser evil or it’s a selfish sacrifice for a greater goal.

When I say “outside opinions”, I’m referring to the other two groups currently working against (?) the paper crane cult. At least one of these mysterious groups is trying to shut down everything the cranes are doing. The other one’s goal can be anything tbh. They might want to take over, they could know the folklore behind phantoms and are more knowledgeable than the cranes are. Regardless, their interference is obviously not helping the cranes which is why they are in hiding.

Also, since we’re on the topic, I don’t believe the ‘stunt pulled in savannah’ had anything to do with Ashlyn and the main cast. We’ve been told that this isn’t the first time they’ve pulled people into the phantom dimension. So why would something they do constantly be considered a stunt?

The group is experienced enough to be able to predict the physical reactions the main cast’s bodies should be undergoing. But when things don’t go to plan, instead of revising their studies, they automatically understand that the children are anomalies. Them being anomalies is important for my next point.

Let’s go back to the basics. The cults symbol is a black paper crane. Cranes symbolize peace, while paper by itself represents newness, life, and growth. Together, this can be interpreted as a goal for a new era of peace and the recovery/growth of society. This could be the boss trying to come to peace with a situation of his past and his end goal of the phantom research is the only way he can cope/try to solve whatever happened.

But, paper cranes as origami can also be given a meaning. 1000 paper cranes are needed in order to have ONE wish granted. The origins of this belief tie back to prayers for recovery and good health. Which links back to my earlier statements about the goal of the cranes being to help something (society, the boss, a person of the past) recover or improve in health/ability.

Hear me out now. What if, instead of using paper cranes, the crane cult uses humans as their offerings instead? Say they need 1000 experiments in order to make a break through in their research of the phantom world. Remember earlier when I stated the main cast were anomalies? What if they’re experiments 994-1,000? Ashlyn, who fosters the closest connection to the phantom dimension out of everyone else, is the 1,000th person. She’s the specialist one, and she will be the breakthrough the cult had so desperately been searching for.

Going back to the orginally topic of the cult not necessarily being evil, there is honestly an odd amount of symbolism that surrounds the members.

In chapter 44, the boss stands at a window reviewing the situation with a member of the paper cranes. In the window, there is a sparrow sitting on a bare tree. This detail can be overlooking very quickly, but the fact it comes up in 2 panels and is the only thing in the window is odd.

So, after some research, I learned that sparrows are actually a sign of good luck! Furthermore, the sparrow is outside.

A sparrow leaves when a family member has died. People need time to recover after the death of a family member. Given my earlier points, are the dots connecting? Perhaps the boss has recently experienced a death (or someone important to him/he himself is very sick) and he is doing everything he can to restore their health. Even if that means others have to die and suffer in order to save them, or even himself. This would be the selfish goal I was talking about earlier.

Or maybe it’s not just one person who’s sick/dead. Maybe it’s society as a whole? The paper cult wants to save people from their own greed and division and make everyone harmonious and equal.

If everyone became a phantom, war and conflict would cease to exist. From what we’ve seen, the phantoms don’t attack each other. Unless they are working together, they completely ignore each other.

In the case that the cult is attempting to save us from ourselves, than wouldn’t that mean the organization is the ‘lesser evil’ I was talking about before?

The charater designs of paper cult members are also very important to this analysis/theory thing.

I don’t know his name, so I’m gonna call him baldy, but look at his piercings. He has two on his right eyebrow. In some cultures, this represents a rite of passage in someone’s life.

The three stages of a rite of passage of separation, transition, and the return. This process can apply to so many theories and events in sbg that I really don’t know which to pick for this post 😭. To save time, I’ll leave it up to the reader. But I’m always open to hearing everyone’s thoughts on this(even if it doesn’t have anything to do with this post’s specific topic).

Now, let’s look at jasmine. She was the funniest to research lol. Her double piercing is on her right ear. This symbolizes life at jeopardy or the prevention of a disaster. HELLO? This covers literally all of my ealier points in one go.

Her tattoos also are quite interesting to look at too. OKAYY so I’ve seen the theory about how this specific tattoo is actually these biggies and it does make sense. However when I was originally putting this analysis together, no one pointed it out yet, and I went in the opposite direction. It still applies to my connections though so.

Originally I thought this tattoo was a centipede, which symbolize good luck, healing, and energy! All three add onto my ealier points.

I’m not 100% sure what these are but it looks like smoke to me.

There are two different thing smoke can symbolize. It can hide a situation or cloud judgement. The clouded judgement could be the emotion that causes the cult to make their selfish sacrifices or our judgement of the cult and assuming their bad people without context (even though they’re kidnappers 😓). Smoke is also important in artworks and ceremonies that deal with sacrifices. In this case, the human sacrifices being used to further the research/domination of phantoms.

This tattoo of what appears to be a snake wrapped around a dragger or staff represents medicine and rejuvenation. It can also represent overcoming a challenge or fear.

I also find the quote, “snake shed their skin” interesting because in a sense when the humans become phantoms they’re shedding their skin and becoming a new being. Just saying 🤷‍♀️

I’m too lazy to write an ending to this long thread but hopefully you guys see the point I was trying to make. Yes I know I’m reaching but also it makes too much sense and I wanted to share. Anyways feel free to add onto this or disagree with it. I’m curious about other peoples perspectives on this!

#sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #school bus graveyard #schoolbus graveyard #sbg (webtoon)#paper crane cult #paper cranes #theories

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good-beanswrites · 11 months

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I talked about my Milgram actors theory earlier, but @amugoffandoms reminded me I also have a little emotional support au version of the idea I’ve been meaning to chat about! It's actually not a typical actors au -- the canon events still happen, but are staged by the in-universe Milgram organization.

(Edit, now with a fic!)

Just like in canon, the organization has a mysterious/supernatural ability to identify and track down ten specific people at their breaking point. In this au, though, it's ten people who could have committed crimes soon. They discreetly reach out to these individuals, requesting for them to be actors in their experiment. They say there will be someone playing a prison guard, and explain the premise. With a bit of coaxing or bribing for a few, they all accept.

Milgram ensures these newfound “prisoners” don’t need to change many details about their lives – the less lies to keep track of, the easier it would be for these ordinary people to pull off such an extensive con.

Some of them are exactly as they were right before their murders, such as Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Kotoko. Haruka, his sister, and Amane did go through traumatic abuse, but it was Milgram that pulled them out of the situation before they resorted to murder. Mikoto is/has been aware of his alters for a while at this point.

Some of the others are taken from their lives after things that could have ended fatally turned out alright: Shidou’s family got into an accident but all recovered; Milgram picked up on his private realization that he would have done anything to save them, were the damage worse. Mahiru and Kazui’s partners attempted/considered suicide, but did not succeed. In Mahiru’s case, they reached a friendship despite breaking up. I still don’t know enough about Kazui’s wife, but I like to think they’re pretty separate now.

The ten prisoners weren’t allowed to meet beforehand, but they individually collaborated with the Milgram team to write the lyrics for their t1 songs and film their videos. I'll mention more about the other actors later, but the filming process is a lot of fun. Though the topics confront them with some unsavory thoughts about themselves, it's a good time singing and acting and getting the giggles on set and everything.

Milgram pulls Es from wherever they were for whatever reason, wipes their memory, and drops them into the prison. The prisoners are unaware that Es didn't come willingly, as they all did.

Once the experiment begins, everyone’s interactions that we’ve seen to this point are genuine. The prisoners get to know each other, while they come to terms with the fact that themselves and these others all had murderous potential. Their personalities, behaviors, and stories from their lives are all true. In the interrogations, they speak honestly to Es about their values and choices. The only faked things are the actual references to the murders, and the “invisible force” that they pretend to hit when acting in violence. Mikoto is instructed to use a bit of violence during his interrogation, though Kotoko sneaking in wasn’t scripted – she genuinely had her concerns about his character and acted accordingly.

While Es sleeps after T1, the prisoners are treated the same regardless of verdict. They provide the team with their genuine thoughts about one another to decide what the staged incidents should be. Kotoko doesn’t actually hate the guilty prisoners, but she recognizes she would’ve wanted to take justice into her own hands in a real situation. Amane is very upset but Es' verdict, but the team helps her dramatize her transformation a bit. Haruka and Muu genuinely get that close. Yuno does wish to be left alone.

They film their second trial videos, now allowed to be around the other prisoners as they do so. They also invite people in their life to come in and play their victims. Yes, it’s just as awkward as it sounds. This is where the prisoners do their real reflection – they think about Es’ verdict for them and what they could have been capable of. There’s a bit of relief from both parties knowing that things will turn out alright now that Milgram intervened (ironic, I know, but this is my fix-it hehe). Shidou’s kids are excited to be filmed, not really understanding the context. Haruka once again works with an actor playing his younger self, a bit put off by how similar they look and the memories he bring back. Haruka’s mother, Rei, and Amane’s cult members (if they appear) are some of the only characters played by strangers, though they do look strikingly similar to the real people. Fuuta’s victim is also played by a stranger. Things are still tense with Hinako, but she agrees to appear.

The team helps the prisoners fake injuries with lots bandages and slings. Then they wake Es. The same is repeated for T2/T3.

Now, I’ve played out a few different paths depending on my angst tolerance at the moment – sometimes Es goes through with the third trial verdicts and is forced to watch the executions (not realizing they're cleverly staged). Sometimes they refuse, finding a way to stop the whole experiment. Sometimes the prisoners realize that Es has been an unwilling participant, and bring the experiment to a stop themselves. Sometimes someone jams a wrench in the mv machine and try to blow it up in order for everything to end before final verdicts.

Because of limited details, the ending can play out however one wants. But my go-to is that Es wake up sometime afterwards in a clean facility filled with scientists. They’re brought to an interrogation room – this time on the other side of the questioning. They’re asked about their motivations, actions, emotions, choices, verdicts (or the reason they rebelled at the very end). A few doors down, the prisoners are being asked similar questions of self-reflection and morality.

Es demands to know what’s going on, while the team tries to assure them that the prisoners are all fine. Es doesn’t buy this, though. They know what kind of mind games the experiment has tried to pull, and can’t tell what’s truth or lie anymore. Things get heated as they demand to see the prisoners. Meanwhile, the prisoners are getting worked up asking about Es. If they haven't already, this is when they learn that Es was an actual prisoner there the whole time. The last time they were together the situation was very intense, and they’re all incredibly worried about them.

In the end, they manage to break out of their rooms and reunite in the middle of the facility, and Es is shocked. All ten are alive and well, even those they may have seen die. No eyes or limbs are missing. They’re all laughing and getting along, no matter what kinds of fights they got into between trials. Even more shocking is when the victims join them later – also all alive and happy.

The ending has a bit of unavoidable angst since Es would be pretty fucked up by the whole experiment. They’d struggle with trust issues and knowing what’s reality. However, it’s still an overwhelmingly happy ending. They get to befriend the prisoners and their families outside of the painful context they met in. Regretting their ignorance of the situation, the prisoners decide to make up for lost time and spend a lot of positive, quality time with Es. The kids are finally allowed to play, and the they finally let the adults act a bit protective over them. This is when the found family completely kicks in lol. Es gets to sleep easy knowing they are all alive and happy, they receive all their memories again, and they get to return home to their own family.

I added it to a reblog but editing with @/qrevo's tags because this is what I was looking for but couldn't quite pin down to make it healing for Es too:

#milgram #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha #es #its not 'the prisoners leave milgram and get therapy' its 'milgram itself is the therapy for the prisoners'#i know the typical actors au would be more of a fix-it but i liked still having a small taste of the canon drama and interactions #its also nice to relate to es' relief -- after ive gone through the angst of canon its nice to imagine everything is okay #so in the au they also go through the angst of canon only to be relieved finding out it was fake and everyone is okay #it also keeps the prisoners lives/personalities the same!#as fun as it is to see actors aus give them whole new personalities offscreen im incredibly attached to these characters and this let me #keep them exactly the same lmao #on days i need the most fluff i picture the prisoners all together filming the t2 mvs -- getting giggly and silly on set #making bloopers and cheering each other on and interacting happily with their 'victims'#when i want intense but good emotions i love thinking of that reunion scene. es exclaiming that fuutas eye is okay and theyre all alright #lots of hugs and tears #(the only details i cant quite work out is how jackalope can talk in this fairly-realistic setting asdfd #that and the undercover mv wouldnt make any sense because es wouldnt have filmed it but ah well)#anyway if anyone has any thoughts or anything lmk! ive been really vibin with this au #analysis/thoughts #lights camera sing your sins

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sporadicthingcollection · 1 year

Text

Point Counterpoint (Tech x F!Reader)

Summary: Despite the mutual attraction, Tech thinks a relationship at time isn't a good idea. You disagree. Vehemently.

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Rating: Mild.

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warnings: None!

---

But if I seem to act unkind

It's only me, it's not my mind

That is confusing things

---

Figuring out where you lived wasn’t difficult. You’ve mentioned that it’s a ten minute walk to Cid’s bar, and a fifteen minute walk to the hangar where they keep the Marauder. A third distance would have made it easier, but Tech has done more with less.

Though it would have been much easier if Omega wasn’t hovering over his shoulder.

“This seems... complicated,” she says slowly.

“Not particularly,” Tech replies. He points at the computer viewscreen. “The edge of this circle represents about a fifteen minutes walk, and this one--”

“No, I mean why do this when you could just message her? You have her comm information.”

Echo chimes in from his spot lounging on the bunk. “Because he’s scared to talk to girls.”

Tech shoots him a dry look. “There is no guarantee that she would reply in a timely manner, or that she would be willing to give the information freely. This is faster.”

Omega gives Echo an uneasy look, but he shrugs. She returns her attention to the screen. “Did she forget something?”

Tech shakes his head. “There is something I’d like to discuss with her in private.”

Echo chimes in again. “Make sure you bring flowers. I’ve heard roses are traditional for first dates.”

There’s a crash from outside the ship, and Wrecker comes barreling inside. “Tech’s goin’ on a date?!” he bellows.

Everyone flinches, with poor Omega covering her ears. But she recovers quickly. “He’s trying to figure out where she lives right now.”

Wrecker’s brow scrunches up. “Why doesn’t he just ask her?”

Tech sighs. “I am not going on a date,” he says. “Though, given that she is infatuated with me, it would be a reasonable assumption to make.”

You didn’t hide it very well. The way you’d stand a little closer to him, or play with your hair, or send him messages with hearts in them. You seem to be using them playfully, but given all of the other evidence, it’s the only logical conclusion.

Wrecker breaks into a wide grin. “Aw, lucky!” He gives Tech what is intended to be a friendly punch on the shoulder, but it nearly knocks him out of his chair.

“Don’t sound too excited, Tech,” Echo says. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the rack to sit.

“I am not,” Tech says. “Regretfully, I am going to talk her out of it.”

Wrecker’s voice doesn’t crack often, but it does now. “What?! Why?!”

Tech picks up the holopad on the console and passes it to him. “I have spent the last several days compiling a list of why we should not pursue a relationship. You may peruse it if you wish.”

Wrecker is more than capable of reading, but he stares at the pad like it’s written in Durese. His expression hardens and he shoves it back into Tech’s hands. “These are dumb. You’re dumb.”

“Demonstrably untrue,” he replies.

“Nah, Wrecker’s right this time,” Echo says. Tech looks to him, only to see him shake his head in disapproval. “A girl likes you, you go for it. Especially when you like her back.”

There is wisdom in his brother’s words, but how did he know he liked her back? Tech blinks at him. “And where did you hear that?”

“You act different around her,” Omega says. “You’re always standing really close to her, and your cheeks get kinda red, and you smile at things she says...” She shrugs. “It’s really obvious.”

He takes a steadying breath. “Regardless of my feelings, we are not compatible. It is as simple as that.” He stands up. “If you will excuse me, I’d like to see her before dark.”

Wrecker lets out a low grumble, not unlike that of an agitated tooka. “For someone so smart, you’re really stupid, y’know that?” He turns to Echo. “Two creds says this doesn’t go the way he thinks this will.”

“Bet,” he grunts. “She’s gonna kick him to the curb.”

Tech rolls his eyes, but says nothing. He has places to be.

Hunter almost bumps into him as he walks down the ramp, but he scoots to the side just in time. “Going to see your girlfriend?” he says with a smile.

“She is not my girlfriend,” he says flatly, “and I’m going to straighten that out now.”

---

You’re a very intelligent woman. You have an education and a career. You can usually keep up with his explanations and ask more questions. It’s one of the many things he likes about you.

Today, however, you seem to not understand a thing he’s saying. From the second you opened your door, you’ve been wide-eyed and baffled. Which is unusual, given that he’s not espousing any particularly complicated technical insights.

You stare at the holopad, eyes widening as you scan the text. They’re enormous and uncomprehending when you look up at him, blinking. You swallow, then take a deep breath.

“Tech,” you ask flatly, “what the fuck?”

That’s an unusually ignorant question coming from you. “Is it not obvious? It is a list of reasons you should pursue other men. I am not a suitable partner for you.”

You blink once. Your mouth opens, then closes. You look at the holopad and open your mouth again, only to close it again as you look back at him. “How long is this?”

“There are about thirty-five items, though some have multiple subsections. So about…” He counts in his head. “Forty-seven, in total.”

He waits for you to speak. You don’t. You just keep staring at him. You look remarkably like a fish, with your mouth opening and closing. You look between him and the holopad several times.

Unsure of what to do with his hands, he adjusts his goggles. “This is not to say that I do not wish to stay friends,” he says. “You are good company and I would like to--”

He’s about a head taller than you, but you have the element of surprise. You grab him by the collar of his breastplate and haul him into your apartment, throwing him onto your sofa. It’s quite plush and his landing is soft.

You slap the door panel to close it and then whirl around to storm towards him. “This isn’t fair,” you say. “You can’t just throw a list of reasons at me and leave.”

“I just did,” he states. He tries to stand up, but you sit him back down. “I don’t understand what you are upset about.”

With a huff, you toss the holopad at him. “At the very least, I deserve to have you tell me to my face why. And I should make an argument back.”

That’s fair. He glances at his chronometer. “I hope you have no plans for the evening.”

“Free as a purrgil,” you say, voice smooth. “So lay it on me.”

He likes that confident tone you take. It makes his insides squirm in a pleasant way. “Very well,” he says. He taps the pad. “Point one,” he begins. “I am a fugitive of the Empire.”

You scoff. “For a good reason. I’d desert too if I had people to protect.”

“Friendship is one thing, but the close contact necessitated by a romantic relationship would put you in constant danger.” He gives you a pointed look. “It is not an easy life.”

You ponder that a moment, tipping your head back and pursing your lips. “Well, yeah,” you finally say, “but I’ve known that from the jump. It’s not like you’re hiding it from me.”

That’s a good point. You’ve been nothing but gracious about his status -- helpful, even. You’ve gone so far as to warn him when inspections are to be conducted on the ship hangars.

You continue. “And in the interests of openness, I assure you I’m not hiding anything either. Except maybe my credit card number, but that’s nothing personal.”

A joke. Your mood has improved. A good sign. Perhaps you’ll be more receptive to the next point.

He adjusts his goggles. “Point two: you are far more attractive than I am.”

The right half of your smile disappears as your brows shoot up and your eyes widen, leaving you looking remarkably like an orbak in a pair of headlights. “Are you saying you wish I wasn’t pretty?”

“Nothing of the sort. You are fine the way you are. More than fine, if I may be honest. Which is what concerns me. Couples where one is perceived as more attractive than the other are subject to more scrutiny and are therefore more likely to separate.”

Your expression doesn’t change. You’re still baffled. “I’m flattered, but... what?”

For such an intelligent woman, you’re being unusually dense right now. It’s very frustrating. “Objectively speaking, you are very beautiful. Your face is symmetrical and your bust-waist-hip measurements are within ideal parameters -- based on just my visual estimates, of course.”

Somehow, your eyes get even wider. “...how long have you been looking at me?”

Too long, but he’ll keep that fact to himself. He ignores your interjection. “I, on the other hand, am a Human clone of decidedly average looks. Which brings me to my next point--”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa!” You regain your wits and flap your hands so fast that your fingers appear to smear in the air. You stick your index finger at him. “What makes you think you’re unattractive?”

He almost scoffs, but he swallows it. “The data I’ve seen suggests I am not.”

You roll yours. “Don’t care. Explain yourself.”

He’s not a fan of prolonged self-depreciation, but if you insist. “Brown hair and eyes are, according to research I’ve read on the subject, the most common hair and eye colors among Humans. Hardly unique traits. Thus, average.”

“You’re taller than most guys I’ve met and in better shape. That rates you pretty high in my book,” you say. “And your goggles are neat.”

“While your appreciation of my eyewear is, well, appreciated, you are just one woman.” Speaking of which, they’re slightly crooked again. He adjusts them.

You suck in the slightest of breaths, and the corners of your lips curl. You always seem pleased when he touches his goggles.

You shake your head as if to clear it. “There’s more to attractiveness than looks, man.” You count on your fingers. “There’s personality, interests--”

“I’m aware of that as well. Which brings me to my third point: disparate levels of intelligence.”

You abandon your counting and your gaze snaps to his like a turret locking onto a target. “Excuse me?”

“I’m far more intelligent than you are.”

While it’s the truth, the look in your eyes makes him regret saying that. “Are you calling me dumb?”

He raises his hand. “I did not mean to offend.”

“Then what did you mean?!”

It’s suddenly very hot in here. “That was-- What I mean to say is--” He swallows thickly and takes a breath. “While you are by no means unintelligent, I am an enhanced clone. I am very knowledgeable and, in past experiences, my sharing of that knowledge has led to discomfort and irritation on the part of others.”

Your anger deflates. You put your hand on your breast, and your brows knit. “Have I ever been like that?” you ask quietly.

“Not often, but on occasion.”

You deflate even more. “I’m sorry,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

A fuzzy warmth blooms in his head, pressing against the backs of his eyes. He’s not used to apologies, and yours seems genuine. “It’s fine,” he says, willing the feeling away.

“No, it’s not.” You vault over the arm of the sofa to sit next to him. Your gaze is soft. “I hurt your feelings and I apologize for that.”

The feeling doesn’t go away. It trickles down his throat and into his chest, even fuzzier and warmer. He coughs and turns back to the datapad.

“I think it’s really neat when you go off about stuff. Like, I didn’t know that thing about getting into hyperspace faster if you use a gas giant as a slingshot. I was telling everyone that for weeks.”

He’d completely forgotten he’d told you that. Though it’s not slingshotting. “Gravity assist,” he corrects.

Your smile returns and it’s like when he takes his armor off after a long day. “Gravity assist,” you repeat. “My bad. Point is that I like it when you talk about stuff. So scratch that from your list.”

His insides are fuzzy enough that he’s suddenly worried he swallowed a mouse without noticing. “...very well,” he says. He highlights the passage and deletes it from the list. “But that doesn’t affect my next point.”

You cross your arms. “Lay it on me.”

Your casual demeanor calms him somewhat. “Point four: clones have inconsistent fertility levels. Should you desire a child, conception may be difficult--”

A peal of laughter interrupts him. You’ve got your hand on your chest as your shoulders shake, your eyes scrunched up and your smile wide.

The warm sinks into his belly. He likes it when you laugh. But this is a serious matter. “What is so funny?”

You giggle for a few moments more, then inhale. “We’re not even in a relationship and you’re talking about kids!”

“It is a genuine concern!” he says. “Numerous studies stated that infertile couples are three times more likely to separate.”

The seriousness of his tone seems to affect you, and you stop laughing. “But we’re not a couple.”

“And I would hate for that to happen if we were.”

“Tech,” you say sharply. “You just brought over a list about why you don’t want to be in a relationship. Why are you worried about it?”

“It is not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it would be unwise,” he says.

It’s the truth. He’d love nothing more than to be with you. But it’s a bad idea and he’s holding forty-seven reasons why. One of which is infertility and he would really appreciate it if you took it seriously.

And yet now you’re looking at him like he sprouted a second head. Wide eyes. Jaw lowered. Lips parted. “Say that again.”

“It is not a good idea,” he repeats.

You shake your head and speak slowly. “No, the first part.”

He swallows. His cheeks are heating up. “It is not that I don’t want to be in a relationship--”

You spring forward so fast that not even his enhanced reflexes are enough to stop you. The datapad clatters to the floor as you push him back against the sofa and position yourself above him.

“I wanna kiss you,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

His surroundings, all of the tactile sensations he’s getting, every single thought swirling around in his head vanishes with a pop. All that exists is your beautiful, symmetrical face, staring down at him with glittering eyes.

A single word appears, deep in his gut. He has to grab onto it and force it up his throat, past his teeth and tongue to his numb lips, and even then it’s barely louder than the breeze through a field of grass.

“Please,” he croaks.

The glitter in your eyes turns to a shine. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you lower yourself towards him. Your breasts make contact with his chest first, and he wishes he hadn’t worn his armor. He wishes he could feel their warmth, their weight, resting against him.

And then your lips make contact with his and he doesn’t wish for anything at all.

Tech has never been kissed before. He’s seen it, heard others talking about it, how much they crave it. He didn’t put much stock into it. It seemed like it would be unpleasant.

He was wrong.

Your lips are gentle and warm against his, soft and smooth as satin. Your muscles move beneath the skin, as if you’re putting great effort into keeping them still.

He wants to linger in this moment forever.

But all things must end, and just as soon as you make contact, you pull away. Your eyes are lidded slightly, making you look intoxicated. Your tongue peeks out from behind your lips, visible for only a moment.

He wants to taste it.

He throws his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. One hand snakes up to press your head back down towards his as he rises to meet you.

He's a man possessed, watching his body act of its own accord. He moves his lips against yours and, though you peep in surprise, you reciprocate. You part your lips and he feels the warmth of your breath and the coolness of your mouth and you taste like hyperspace looks.

He has no idea what that means, but it feels right.

“Tech,” you whisper into his mouth.

Hearing his name come from your lips is like heaven. He murmurs yours back, and he gets a coo so sweet in response that he gasps.

You pull away, concern knitting your brow. “You okay?” you pant.

He nods. “Yes. This is a... new experience.”

Your jaw drops. You look both sad and elated. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.”

He’s glad you’re the first as well. With any luck, you’ll be the only.

He licks his lips. They taste faintly of meiloorun. “...I would like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes sparkle with delight. They drift closed as you lean in to catch his lips in yours.

---

He doesn't know how long he lays with you atop him, exploring your mouth, but the sun has set by the time he leaves. Or you let him leave, rather. You refuse to let him go until he promises to come by tomorrow so you can buy him dinner.

The phrase walking on air never made much sense to him, but as he strolls through the streets, he thinks he gets it.

Hunter is examining the contents of a cargo crate when Tech returns. He initially doesn’t pay him any mind, but he double-takes and raises a brow. “Where’ve you been?”

“Seeing a friend.” He adjusts his goggles. “Why?”

“You got...” He rubs his thumb along his lower lip. “...on your mouth...”

Tech touches his fingertips to his mouth. Pulling away, a swash of color stains his gloves.

Uh-oh.

He scrubs the back of his hand along his mouth just as Echo pokes his head out the door of the Marauder, quickly joined by Omega and Wrecker. “So how’d it go?” he asks.

Somehow, he manages to keep his voice even. “Better than expected,” he replies. “We’re getting dinner tomorrow night.”

Echo’s eyebrows shoot up as Omega’s jaw drops. Wrecker barks a laugh and jostles Echo with his elbow. Hunter continues to look confused.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asks. “Is this about your girlfriend?”

Tech opens his mouth to respond, only to pause. Instead, he nods. “It is,” he says.

Hunter waits for the correction, but it doesn't come. His brows slowly rise, and he breaks into a knowing grin.

---

Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bf for putting on Revolver just when I was looking for an epigraph. <3

---

⬅⬅⬅ | "Filled With Things to Say" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tech #star wars #the bad batch #reader insert #emberly writes #lindiwe kadandala #send me tech requests lads

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solaneceae · 7 months

Text

consume

a team bolas oneshot (read on ao3) tw: cannibalism, fuga impossivel references

“Hey, Slime. Can I eat your leg?”

The hybrid makes a huh of confusion, still adjusting his trusty gas mask over his face as he loots his own dead body, codified arm still glitching from fresh respawn. Cellbit can hear Jaiden and Étoiles conversing nearby, Bagi and Tina not too far from them, and the entire area reeks of blood and death.

Red Spawn had, strangely enough, become some kind of safe haven for now — people from all teams that were begging for a break, for a chat, for any modicum of normalcy had started to flock there as the end Day Four drew near: separated lovers falling into each other’s arms, Étoiles coaching everyone on PvP techniques regardless of affiliation (because the guy just thrived on being kind and helping people become the best version of themselves, it seemed. Cellbit appreciated that), his very presence a deterrent to anyone who would dare to come and break the temporary peace (BadBoyHalo).

And now that they didn’t have to look over their shoulder every second, the cat hybrid had started to think. A risky endeavour in a place such as Purgatory, but after exchanging a heated kiss with his husband and getting the sudden urge to bite his mouth off, he had started to wonder.

There were so many bodies around their spawn. He had seen many for the past few days, most of them belonging to his own team, but the urge to chow down on fresh meat had been nowhere as strong as right then with Roier, not even close. (First day had been the odd one out, as everyone in red team had lost their minds to the fog and joined in on that fucked up banquet.)

A hypothesis is blooming in his mind. He needs to test something. “Can I eat your leg?” he repeats to a befuddled Charlie, who looks at him, then at his body, then back at him. “I mean. Sure? Knock yourself out.”

Cellbit does — and it’s disappointing. It starts off nice, his heart hammering inside his ribcage as he severs muscle and bone and tendon to rip Slime’s leg off his still cooling body, saliva pooling in his mouth as his pupils dilate to eat up all the blue, and he can feel it, the thrill, the desire, the manic joy; but then he bites into it and the leg loses solidity, turning into green goop that tastes like grass and it’s so sour, like an unripe lemon. He spits it all out, grimacing — his palate and tongue almost feel burned. He forgot slimes were corrosive. “Tastes like shit,” he huffs, and Charlie lets out a disappointed aw.

Results: inconclusive. Cause: negative bias, because Charlie is a fucking slime and hence an outlier.

He asks Jaiden next, and she shrugs and tells him to go for it. (Maybe they should be worried about how flippant they’ve all become about cannibalism, but that’s a problem for post-Purgatory them to deal with.) And this time, it’s good. Her flesh is tender and moist, just the right balance of muscle and fat, and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction as she watches him tear into her thigh with morbid fascination. “How do I taste like?” she asks him. He tells her ‘delicious’ between two mouthfuls of prime cut, and she smiles. “Nice! I’m glad.”

Contrary to what some might believe, he hadn't eaten anything off the Federation workers he had killed. Hadn't reached that point at the time. But now there he is, seeking an enemy body among the dozens of Jaidens lying around. When he finally does, he stares down at it for a long moment, and finds that he has no desire to sink his teeth into it at all. Mmh. He looks up to find Roier, still silent to mind his recovering lungs and plopping down signs that make Étoiles crack up, and he’s so funny and cute and strong and Cellbit wants to crawl into his chest cavity and— “Ah,” he realises, something old and crooked at the back of his mind finally clicking into place.

He thinks of Pac. He thinks of Alcatraz, of that desire that had torn its way into his brain as soon as he had seen that youthful, terrified face for the first time. He thinks of those nights tossing and turning, tongue flicking out in a nervous tick as he obsessively rotated the new guy into his mind from every angle, trying to imagine what his screams would be like, how his flesh would taste, how it would feel going down his throat. He thinks of the pure, unadulterated pleasure of finally making that fantasy a reality, details blurring into red-mist bliss and the song of Pac screaming and crying. He finds that if he had to do it all again, right now, he would, but not like this. This time, dream-Pac would offer himself willingly, repeating I trust you, I trust you as dream-Cellbit reverently slices through his flesh.

He thinks of that thing humans have, when they experience the urge to squish or bite when they see something cute. He thinks of the result of his observations, that he only enjoys eating people if he cares for them.

(Maybe he had loved Pac once, in a fucked up version of a crush distorted by his mania and lifetime worth of trauma. Maybe that was why he had done what he’d done. Now the engineer was more akin to a brother to him, close and important, but that obsessive attraction wasn’t there anymore.)

Maybe it’s just in his nature, to consume the very things he loves. “Something on your mind?” Jaiden asks him later, sleepily, her head resting against his side as the rest of the family dozes off within the Nest in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets. Cellbit shakes his head. “Just. Processing stuff.”

Jaiden hums, and Phil drapes one of his large black wings over them both. The conure chirps, flock, home, and the crow replies with a quiet yesyes.

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #team bolas #fanfic #cannibalism as a metaphor for love is kinda based actually #cellbit #q!cellbit #tw cannibalism

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fallingforfictionalcharacterss · 1 year

Note

Hellooo,

I want to request a story where Mclaggen flirts with the reader and gets to close, so she kisses her best friend Draco to get rid of him. But he gets pissed when he finds out that she only did it to get rid of him. Happy ending pls

Thank you so much for your request, I really enjoyed writing it! I feel my writing style is closer to my older fics again at this one (I´m not sure if this is a good thing yet). However, I hope you enjoy reading it!

Friends to lovers

Warnings: alcohol consumption, harassment

A/N: Just a quick note for all the girls out there (and everyone else who will ever get in a situation like this): Please remember that it is always okay to speak up if someone makes you feel uncomfortable and never be afraid to make a scene if necessary (only if you feel like it´s safe obviously), regardless what other people around you might think or say about it. These feelings are completely valid and much more important than what others might think.

Also, since this fact might get lost in this fic: Consent is always key, always remember this, regardless of what situation you are in or what the relationship with the other person might look like.

“So what do you think? The silvery or the green one?”

You narrowed your eyes as you tried to conjure the images of the dresses in your mind.

“The green one. With some silvery jewellery.”

“Maybe the necklace you got me for my birthday?”

You grinned at your friend.

“I was thinking the exact same, Pansy.”

“Oh yeah, and what do you think, Draco? Which shirt should I wear tonight? The black one or the black one?”, you were suddenly interrupted by a deeper voice.

The blond boy pouted as if he would actually think about his answer.

“I think you should wear the black one, Blaise.”, he finally answered. “It stresses your eyes.”

“You´re too kind, Draco. And such an amazing help.”

You shared an annoyed glare with Pansy, which made the boys give in and burst into laughter.

“But honestly”, Blaise stated when they had finally calmed down again, “I don’t get why you make such a fuss about it.”

“It´s just a party. The two of you should calm down a bit.”, Draco agreed with his friend.

You nudged him playfully.

“Says the boy who takes about an hour to style his hair every morning and still gets it ruined in the first ten minutes afterwards.”

Draco touched his hair, looking slightly offended as a rosy shimmer spread across his cheeks.

“A malicious allegation. It looks like that naturally."

You shared a knowing glance with Pansy, fully aware of the fact that what Draco had just stated was nothing but a lie.

“It´s nothing to be ashamed of, Draco.”, you chirped as you smiled at him sweetly.

“It´s actually very attractive if a guy cares about his appearance, you know?”, Pansy added, making Blaise almost choke on his pumpkin juice.

The four of you were sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast and the most important topic of the day was the upcoming party tonight. By now, you had finished all your exams for the year and Salazar, that was for sure a reason to celebrate. And at one of the biggest parties of the year, Pansy and you obviously wanted to dress up at least a bit, eager to escape the everyday look of your school uniforms. And to do so, you were even willing to take some rude comments from your friends.

“As if I would be in need of such things.”, Draco returned, shooting Pansy a deadly glare, while Blaise still tried to catch his breath.

“Because unlike some of us”, Blaise stated, when he had finally recovered, as his eyes darted from Pansy to you and back to Pansy, “we don’t have to put in any effort to look great.”

“While Pansy and I, unlike some of us, are aware of how we can maximize our God-given beauty. It wouldn´t hurt you to try this as well at some point.”

“So you can´t even argue with the fact that we´re just irresistibly attractive, can you?”, Blaise grinned.

“It makes me want to worship the ground you´re walking on.”, you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

But while you were making fun of it, even you couldn’t deny that Blaise, as well as Draco, actually had some kind of effortless beauty. They were attractive, you couldn’t deny it, however, you would rather bite off your tongue than ever actually admit it to the boys.

“That doesn´t mean you couldn´t optimize it though.”, Pansy stepped in. “Maybe some eyeliner for Blaise and I bet Draco´s eyes would pop out more if we would curl his lashes…”

“And maybe ruffle up his hair a bit…”, you added, laying your arm around Draco´s shoulder in a sneaky attempt to get your hand closer to the neatly styled hair, but Draco realized immediately what you were up to and caught your hand with his.

“Don’t you dare. Do you know how much time it takes me to get this done? Won´t let you ruin it just like that.”, he growled.

“So you admit it.”, you stated with a triumphant shimmer in your eyes.

Draco looked at you irritated.

“Admit what?”

“That you style it."

Your friend hesitated a moment, before he grumbled: “Never said I wouldn’t. I just pointed out that you have a tendency to exaggerate.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sure you did.” You sighed and rested your head on your friend’s shoulder. “But jokes aside. You look… well, let’s say at least acceptable, styled hair or not.”

Draco let out a low chuckle as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Likewise, princess.”

And on the other side of the table, Pansy and Blaise couldn’t hide the smirk on their faces as they watched the scene in front of them, sharing a glance in silent agreement.

Later that day, Pansy and you made your way to the Slytherin common room. Pansy had indeed chosen the green dress, certainly enjoying the compliments you had showered her with as you had seen her all dressed up. You had dressed up yourself, not looking too bad as well and certainly more than just acceptable and -as Pansy noted- even Draco wouldn’t be able to help himself but admit that you did so.

And in fact, when you entered the common room, where Draco and some of your other friends were already waiting for you, the blond boy´s eyes widened slightly as he noticed you.

“So, what do you think? Is this acceptable?”, you smiled at Draco as you walked up to him.

Draco´s eyes wandered up and down your body, as he took his time to come to a conclusion. When his eyes met yours again, there was something in his gaze that you couldn’t quite grasp, something that made you blush for some stupid reason, but it was soon replaced by a cheeky grin.

“Finally, I don´t have to be ashamed to be seen with you for once.”, he responded.

When your attempt to slap his arm in response failed and Draco laughed at your pathetic try, you took some time to eye the boy as well. The Slytherin looked unfairly good in his black suit he always wore to such occasions. It somehow made the twinkle in his eyes only look brighter, especially now, that he tilted his head as he laughed. And also…

“Your hair!”, you stated in surprise as you noticed how some strands of Draco´s normally neatly styled hair framed his face.

The grin on the boy´s face only grew wider.

“Only did so for you, love.”, he teased.

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

“So what do you say? Do you like it?”

You eyed him sceptically. But no matter how hard you tried, you had to admit that there was absolutely nothing to criticize – neither about Draco´s hair nor about any other part of his appearance. For a second you got lost in the way he smiled down at you, way too smugly, yet in your eyes still looking just perfect.

“What? Got lost for words?”, Draco chuckled as he noticed your gaze.

You snapped out of your trance and quickly shook your head, not only as an answer to his question but also as an attempt to get rid of the strange feeling in your stomach as you looked at your friend.

“I told you it would suit you. Isn´t that surprising I was right once more, is it?”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“You aren’t complacent at all, are you?”

“Says you”, you countered right away.

“Are the two of you done flirting now, or do you want us to excuse you for tonight?”, you were suddenly interrupted by Pansy´s mischievous voice.

You turned around, glaring at your roommate.

“You don’t actually expect me to answer this, do you?”

Pansy just shrugged her shoulders in response, pulling a face that made you suspect you rather didn’t want to know what she would say next. So you linked your arm with hers and pulled her towards the exit.

“What are we waiting for then?”, you asked.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. It always amazed and irritated you at the very same time when you saw the students of the different houses in harmony with one another. Since none of you were wearing your school uniforms anymore, from time to time it was hard to even recognize which house the different people you barely knew were from. However, many of them -especially Slytherins- stuck to the colours of their houses, making it easier to at least suspect where they belonged, and somewhere on the other side of the room, you noticed Luna Lovegood, who had created some jewellery from eagle feathers. People were dancing, talking and laughing, on the dancefloor, at the improvised bar someone had built up or just lazily sitting in one of the seating areas.

The moment you stepped through the door, someone handed you a drink and you carefully sniffed on it. Just from the smell, you were pretty sure that whatever had been mixed into it, the night would be a very certain kind of fun.

Pansy had already raised her glass.

“To the end of torture and oppression!”, she cheered, before taking a way too big swing from her cup.

“To the end of torture and oppression.”, you agreed laughingly before you nipped on your cup as well, pulling a face. You certainly would need to take it easy if you didn’t want to wake up with some bad headache tomorrow.

When you had finished your drink, Pansy practically pulled you on the dancefloor, while Draco along with Blaise found some poor excuse to get over to the comfortable couches, meeting up with Crabbe and Goyle.

You didn’t even know how long you had been dancing, just enjoying the music and the company of your friends, when suddenly Pansy nudged you.

“Draco´s looking over!”, she yelled into your ear.

You turned your head, looking to the boys who still remained rooted in their spots in the seating area, and saw that Draco was indeed watching you. When he caught your gaze, you waved at him excitedly, which made your friend curve his lips into a small smile. But that smile quickly fainted as you tried to beckon him over, signalling him you wanted him to join you dancing. But while Draco was extraordinarily good in standard dances, he detested the stiff frippery without any clear rules with every fibre of his body. That´s why Draco just shook his head firmly at your efforts and quickly turned his head to his friends, engaging in the conversation again.

With a shrug of your shoulders, you turned around to Pansy again.

“If you don’t want it, you already have it.”, you said, slightly disappointed, yet not actually surprised at Draco´s rejection.

“I highly doubt it´s the dancing he´s interested in.”, Pansy mumbled under her breath and over the loud music, it was hard for you to understand.

“What was that?”

Pansy sighed.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

You threw your friend an irritated glance, but Pansy didn’t seem to want to deepen her explanation.

But while Pansy just went back to dancing, you felt your throat slowly getting dry from the yelling and the heated temperatures in the room.

“I´ll get myself a drink. You want something too?”

Pansy gave you a thumbs up and you made your way to the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.

You had just grabbed your drinks and wanted to make your way back through the crowd when suddenly someone touched your shoulder. You turned around and groaned quietly. Cormac McLaggen was standing there, grinning down at you. You detested this guy more than any other student in this school, not only because he was a Gryffindor, but mostly because he had a certain reputation regarding his handling of girls. You still remembered how -not long ago- he had tried to get close to Hermione Granger, and even though you didn’t exactly like the smart-alec Gryffindor girl, you had felt slightly sorry for her when you had watched the constant inappropriate attempts to get the girl. And the fact that he was standing now in front of you with that slimy grin on his face made you suspect that he was up to no good.

“Lovely (Y/n). I see you got me a drink as well.”, he grinned, stepping even closer to you.

You resisted the urge to step back and instead straightened your back, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was making you feel already.

“It´s for Pansy.”, you answered cooly.

“But I´m sure Parkinson can get herself a drink, can´t she?”

“So can you.”

“But then I wouldn’t have a reason to keep your company any longer.”

“That´s the plan.” You really weren’t in the mood to stay quiet or polite just out of respect for a guy’s feelings, especially if said guy happened to be McLaggen.

But he didn’t seem to mind the slightest.

“You´re really a tease, (Y/n), aren’t you?”, the Gryffindor chuckled, as he stepped even closer and put an arm around your waist.

“Let go of me. Right now.”, you hissed through gritted teeth, having to use all your willpower to not hex the boy on the spot.

“Why should I?”, McLaggen responded.

You looked at him in disbelief. Was he actually that stupid that he actually didn’t get how uncomfortable he made you feel? Or did he simply not care about it? And most importantly how would you get out of this situation most elegantly. You weren’t scared to make a scene in front of all these people, but you were pretty sure that McLaggen would hold it against you and even though you would be able to get rid of him like this for now, you weren’t sure how long it would last. So you took a deep breath, trying to get calm yourself down again.

“I need to get back to my friends."

“Why? You think they would grudge you some fun?”

“This isn’t fun for me, McLaggen.” You stressed his last name, trying to make clear that you didn’t feel like you were on a first name basis with him at all.

“C´mon (Y/n).” Well, that certainly didn’t work. “We´re just getting started. I promise you won´t regret this.”

But if he wouldn’t let go of you soon, he certainly would. But instead, he pulled you even closer.

“I´ll pass on this.”

You looked around, trying to find a familiar face to get you out of your misery, a place you could save yourself to, but the only people you spotted were Pansy and Draco who were standing next to the dancefloor, their eyes wandering through the room, probably already looking for you since you had already disappeared for much longer than you had originally planned.

“What is it (Y/n)”, McLaggen whispered into your ear, making goosebumps creeping over your skin in the most uncomfortable way. “Don´t got someone else to do the job, do you?”

Oh, if McLaggen only knew how much he had just scored his own goal.

“Oh well, you know, actually I do have someone to -as you just expressed so elegantly- do the job.”

You smiled at the boy sweetly, while the Gryffindor frowned.

“You do?”

“How come you don’t know yet? I thought most people did by now.”

You didn’t even have to hide the grin on your face as you saw McLaggen looking utterly confused.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, now you do.”

You quickly wriggled out of the boy´s grip and wanted to leave with a smug grin on your face, but McLaggen caught your wrist and held you back once more.

“Who is it then?”

You hesitated for a moment before you looked over to your friends still standing a bit off the beaten track and your gaze settled on a certain blond boy, who was talking to Pansy, for now completely unaware of his spontaneous promotion. You turned back to McLaggen and locked your eyes with his, not blinking once, as you said: “Draco of course.”

McLaggen looked at you in surprise.

“Draco? You mean Draco Malfoy?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Do you know any other?”

“But I always thought the two of you were just friends.”

“Ever heard something about the term friends to lovers? Honestly, McLaggen read a book someday.”

“But this is the real world, (Y/n).”, McLaggen frowned.

You had to try really hard to hold back a groan. That guy was harder to get rid of than the juice of a Mimbulus mimbletonia.

“But my fairytale has come to life. So if you´ll excuse me now, my boyfriend”, you stressed the word, “is probably already looking for me and I really want to get back to him.”

And without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and made your way back to your friends.

When you had almost reached them, a smug grin still covering your face due to your recent award-winning performance, you turned your head around one last time, only to see McLaggen still watching you, lips pursed and arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe you hadn’t been as convincing as you had hoped or maybe it was just his wounded pride, but if he would keep on watching you that closely, he would realize rather soon that what you had just told him had been nothing but a bluff. At that moment a second terrific idea followed the first one. And without thinking twice, you walked up to your friends with the sweetest smile on your face.

“Finally, (Y/n), what took you so long?”, Pansy asked you as you handed her the drinks.

“Sorry, I was delayed.”, you said, before you turned around to Draco.

“But you couldn’t stay away from me too long, could you?”, he teased with that familiar twinkle in his eyes, as he grinned down at you.

You returned his smile immediately.

“You have no idea.”, you responded before you grabbed him by his collar and pressed your lips on Draco´s without hesitation.

It was fireworks exploding.

You weren’t quite sure what you had been thinking when you had decided to kiss your friend, but it didn’t matter anymore.

You weren’t quite sure, how you had been expecting his lips to feel on yours, but you certainly hadn’t expected them to feel so soft against yours and fit just so perfectly.

You weren’t quite sure how you had expected to feel when you would kiss Draco, but it hadn’t been like this. You hadn’t expected the electricity buzzing through your body the moment his lips touched yours. You hadn’t expected the relief you felt as Draco didn’t push you away but pulled you only closer. You hadn’t expected to feel like air was only the second most important thing in your life as his lips slowly started to move against yours as well.

You heard Pansy gasping somewhere in the back of your mind, but it sounded muffled, just like any other noise around you. Every sensation that wasn’t linked to Draco and the moment you just shared felt just doll compared to the intense feelings rushing through your body. Every centimetre of your body was on fire and Draco´s heated skin against yours only fuelled the fire. The taste of the drink he had had still lingering on his lips felt intoxicating, just as the way your hands slowly wandered from Draco´s collar to his hair, while he pulled his arms around your waist, holding you so close, you felt as if your bodies might immerge with one another.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, holding each other tight, but finally, you ran out of air after all and slowly, you backed up again. As you opened your eyes, the sight in front of you was truly magical. Draco´s cheeks were rosy and his swollen lips slightly parted, as he panted heavily, his hair not only slightly ruffled anymore, but a total mess.

The Slytherin leant his forehead against yours and grinned down at you.

“Well, that was unexpected.”, he said, his voice sounding unusually raspy.

You didn’t answer and just nodded as you stared at him in awe.

You had never seen Draco as much more than a friend. You had always been really close and you had always been aware of the fact that he was quite attractive, but you had never seen him in the same way you did now. You had never felt the butterflies in your stomach somersaulting, had never had the urge to be as close to him as you did now, had never wanted to press your lips on his again so badly.

Draco brushed a strand of your hair that was falling into your face behind your ear, before his thumb traced over your cheek and finally your lips, which probably looked like a mess by now since you saw some light traces of your lipstick on Draco´s.

“So tell me, love, how did I deserve this special kind of attention from you tonight?”

For a second you were almost irritated. What did Draco think why one would kiss someone else? But then you remembered that your intentions for the kiss had originally been slightly different from the ones you had on your mind now.

When you didn’t answer and the boy in front of you saw the look of indecisiveness in your eyes, his face fell.

“Salazar, (Y/n), please don’t tell me you´re already so drunk that you just run around and kiss random people.”

The sharpness in his voice made you snap out of the trance you had been in ever since your lips had first touched his.

“What? No! No, I´m not drunk at all!”, you objected before you realized that this was probably just what a drunk person would say. So you took a deep breath and continued: “It´s just… McLaggen came up to me when I just got the drinks and was… well, he was McLaggen and he wouldn’t want to leave me alone, so I told him I had a boyfriend. And you were the first to come to my mind and I knew he probably didn’t believe me, so I thought if I´d kiss you he´d leave me alone.”

Only now that you said it out loud, you realized how stupid you must have sounded. Draco and you had never been anything but friends. What in Merlin´s name were you thinking to just walk up to a boy who had never shown any romantic interest in you and kissed him without even explaining the situation to him or asking him if he was okay with it?

“That´s what this was about?” Draco´s voice sounded even sharper than before, making you flinch.

“Look, Draco, I´m sorry. I know this probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I… I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking, and I panicked and I somehow thought you´d be okay with this and…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (Y/n).”, Draco cut you off. “I get it. McLaggen is an idiot and I… I´m just glad you got yourself out of the situation, alright?” But Draco didn’t sound like he thought it was alright at all.

You nodded, eyeing him sceptically.

“So, you´re okay with this?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. When he looked at you, the warm look in his clouded eyes had disappeared, and instead, his eyes were sparkling coldly at you now.

“Obviously. That´s what friends are there for, aren’t they?”

You gulped. For some reason, the word friends wasn’t quite fitting anymore for what you saw Draco as. You hadn’t believed that a stupid kiss could ever change your feelings the slightest, but somehow it did. Even though you weren’t quite sure if your feelings for Draco had actually changed within the last few minutes or if you had just become aware of something that had been buried under all those memories and experiences of the last few years, but what you knew for sure was that when Draco called whatever the two of you were friends, your heart clenched in a way you had never felt it before.

Still, you nodded.

“Yeah, you´re right. Friends. That's what they´re there for.”, you echoed weakly and forced a smile onto your lips.

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, before Draco finally nodded as well and took a step back.

“Well, since my job is done now, you don’t need me anymore, do you?” And without even waiting for an answer, he added: “I´ll get some fresh air now. It´s too crammed in here.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you alone, staring at the spot he had stood only seconds ago.

“What in the name of Merlin was that all about?”, you suddenly heard a soft voice next to you.

When you looked up, you saw Pansy standing there, still holding the drinks you had handed her before your attack on the boy who called you his friend.

“I… this was… well, you heard what this was about.”, you responded defensively.

“Well, you can´t tell me that this was about you getting rid of that nasty Gryffindor.”

“Would that be so hard to believe?”

“After I´ve seen the two of you almost eating each other up and looking at each other like some fools in love? Trust me, it is.”

“Neither we ate each other up, nor are we fools in love.”, you snapped back, probably a bit too harsh for just trying to set the record straight.

“Oh yeah, this was purely platonic.” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“It was supposed to look real.”, you contradicted.

“And Draco knew that too?”

No, he didn’t. He had had no idea why you had been kissing him, still, he had kissed you in a way you hadn’t even dared to dream of.

“It was just the heat of the moment. I surprised him. And he would have felt bad to turn me down.”

“Oh, yeah, you have already assumed this for him, didn’t you?”

You looked at your friend irritated. You weren’t in the mood for guesswork right now, too many thoughts were running in circles around your mind.

“I mean, you kiss that poor boy like no one has ever done before and the next moment you explain to him that it was just to get rid of some jerk?"

“I know I should have just asked him first to make sure he is okay with it, but…"

“You really think that this would make any difference?”, Pansy interrupted you.

You sighed fretfully.

“If you got anything to say, Pansy, just spit it out. I´m really not up to your games right now.”

Pansy let out a small huff, not sure if she was supposed to laugh or grab you by the shoulders until you would finally realize it yourself.

“You really can´t be that blind, can you?”

You only frowned and Pansy sighed.

“(Y/n), you are aware that this guy had been head over heels for you since forever, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“Draco, you foolish lunkhead! Who do you think we´re talking about?”

You stared at your friend in disbelief.

“Pansy, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, I know, it really isn’t. It almost hurts physically to see the two of you interact with each other and how you are completely clueless to everything he does, even if Draco is behaving like a complete idiot around you.”

“You´re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, silly. Salazar, the way the two of you act is really so much more than anyone could ever make up in their head.”

“So you really want to tell me that Draco has a thing for me.” “Being hopelessly in love with you is more fitting, but if you want to put it this way, yeah, that´s what I´m trying to tell you.”

You felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach once more as your cheeks heated up to an unknown extent.

“I… I didn’t know…I mean, if I… I really had no idea…”, you stuttered, not quite sure what to say.

“Don’t you say.”, Pansy responded sarcastically, but then she grew more serious again. “The real question now is how you feel about it.”

How did you feel about it? On the one hand, all you wanted to do was run to Draco and kiss him until you were out of breath again for the rest of your life, but on the other hand, this feeling was so new and strange to you that you weren’t quite sure how to deal with it.

“I don’t know. I mean, I never even thought about the possibility that Draco and I… that we might ever be anything more than friends. It´s all we ever were, and I never had any doubts that we always would be.”

“But what about now? How do you feel about him now?”

You hesitated for a moment before you responded carefully: “Different.”

“And is this a good thing or a bad one?”, Pansy asked, but from the look on your face she already knew the answer before the words even left your mouth.

An uncontrollable smile spread across your face as you thought about the feeling of Draco´s lips on yours and the way that he had looked at you right after they had parted again.

“It´s a good thing. Really good.”, you smiled.

“Then you should probably tell him, shouldn’t you?”, she asked, the smirk on her face clearly visible in her voice as well.

You nodded.

“I will.” You shot your friend a thankful glance. “Thanks, Pansy.”

And with that, you turned around, following Draco into the dark.

The castle grounds were quiet at this time of the night. A few people were standing here alone or in small groups to get some fresh air, but still, it was quiet and from time to time you had the feeling to be all alone out here.

You weren’t quite sure how you knew where to go, maybe it was because of the strong tie between Draco and you that you had misinterpreted so badly, or maybe it was something else, but somehow your feet carried you to the place Draco was standing without fail. You spotted him leaning against the wall of the castle right away, his light hair shimmering in the dim light shining through the windows, mixing with the one of the moon shining down on you. You were pretty sure Draco had heard you approaching him, or maybe he was too lost in his own thoughts to do so, but as you got closer to him, the boy kept on staring into the void, showing no signs of recognition.

“Draco?”, your voice was soft, so soft you weren’t even sure if he had even heard you because he still didn’t react.

You cleared your throat before you tried once more.

“Draco?” This time your voice sounded stronger.

Draco however, still didn’t look at you, but a small shrug of his head signalized you that he had heard you. You took this as a sign to step even closer. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. You were scared. Scared that you might have ruined whatever relationship you had with Draco beyond repair, and if it didn’t yet, that your next actions would do so after all.

“I was looking for you.”, you spoke up again, not quite sure how to start the conversation properly.

“You found me now, didn’t you?”, Draco responded, his voice sounded cold and his eyes were still fixed on an invisible point in front of him.

You took another step towards the boy and leant to the wall next to him, not close enough to touch you, yet close enough to feel his presence next to you. You felt him tense as you did so, yet, he didn’t shy away.

A few moments of silence passed, as neither of you said a word. You looked up into the sky, letting your eyes getting used to the darkness until they finally spotted some stars glistening above you.

“It´s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”, you tried again.

Draco just hummed in response.

After another few minutes of silence, you couldn’t bear it anymore and tore your gaze apart from the night sky and looked at the boy next to you instead.

“Listen, I´m really sorry about what happened earlier. This wasn’t okay.”

“I already told you, it´s alright.”

You shook your head vigorously, even though you weren’t sure if Draco could even see.

“No, it really isn’t. I behaved like a complete idiot in there. Not only that I… that I just kissed you, but also what I said to you afterwards. I really screwed this up.”

“It doesn’t matter, (Y/n)”, Draco said, his voice still apathetic. “You did what you thought was best at that moment. And, I mean, it didn’t mean anything anyway, did it?” The last few words sounded different, a mix of bitterness and the hope that you might contradict. Before your talk with Pansy, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed, but now you did. And it almost broke your heart.

“That´s not true.”, you contradicted in a low voice.

Draco´s gaze flickered in your direction for a second, before he looked away again. Yet, he didn’t answer.

“It meant something. I mean, I know it did for you and I…” You paused for a second, thinking about what you should say next. “It meant something to me too, you know? I didn’t know that it would but it did. Much more than I ever thought it would.”

“It didn’t. Neither for you nor for me. I think we both made that very clear.”, Draco spit out, his voice not nearly as calm as it used to be, even though he tried really hard to hide it.

“Did we?”

“We did. We´re friends. That is what you said and what I said as well. We´ve always been and we always will be. Ain´t that hard to understand, (Y/n), is it? Even you should understand that.”

“I know you have a thing for me.”, you blurted out. You didn’t mean to do so. You had wanted to approach the topic more carefully, trying not to hurt Draco´s feelings or embarrass him, but the way he behaved like a stubborn child, made it impossible for you.

Draco froze for a second, before he shrugged his shoulders, looking anywhere but at you.

“And if I did? Would it change anything?”

The fact that he didn’t contradict you right away, didn’t call your assumptions ridiculous or even laughed at you, made even the last doubts you still had had about Pansy´s words disappear. Your heartbeat quickened even more, even though you weren’t quite sure if it was from annoyance or affection.

“Would it… Draco, this would change everything!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Draco this… what happened tonight… the kiss… this wasn’t just about McLaggen.”

“You said it was.”

“Because it was. I mean kind of. But not like this. I… Merlin, Draco. At first, I kissed you because of him. But all of this felt just so… When I kissed you it just felt so good, and then you kissed me back and I had the feeling as if all the stars would suddenly align. It felt as if it was the right thing to do and it made me wonder… no, it made me know for sure that this is what I want. That you are what I want. Not as a friend but as… more. And I know that I´m an idiot that it took me that stupid kiss to realize and if you are mad at me now, you got every reason to be, but if you let me ruin the possibility of… of us just because I screwed this up then you are just as much of an idiot as I am.”

You hadn’t even realized how much you had raised your voice until you fell silent again and you couldn’t hear any other noises but the muffled music coming from inside and your own heartbeat echoing in your ears.

A few moments passed and neither Draco nor you said anything. Your thoughts were racing and in your mind, you already prepared yourself to not only lose the potential relationship Draco and you could have, but also the one that you had had ever since you came to Hogwarts. But just as you wanted to apologize and leave Draco alone again, the boy suddenly let out a sigh and stood up straight again, turning around to you.

The expression on his face was unreadable as he said: “Love, you should know that I´m way too smart to be an idiot.”

It took you a moment to process his words, but as you did, a small spark of hope lit up in your chest again.

“Does that mean, that...”

“It means”, Draco interrupted you, “that I´m willing to give this a chance.” He smiled at you smugly as he saw the uncontrollable grin spreading across your face. “If that´s what you want to, of course.”, he added slyly.

“I think to know this for sure, I might need to try something again at first.”, you responded.

And this time you didn’t have to pull Draco down to you, but he leant down willingly, meeting your lips halfway.

And even though this time you were prepared for the feeling, it still almost swept you off your feet with full force and you had no doubt that your legs would probably have given in if it wouldn’t be for Draco holding on to you tightly.

When you pulled back this time, you felt neither conflicted nor confused. All you could feel was your love for the boy in front of you rushing through your entire body and the only critical thought that was left was the question of how you could have ever mistaken your feelings for the blond Slytherin for anything else but love.

You leant your head onto Draco´s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat that was far too fast, a fact that you would have probably teased him for if you wouldn’t have known that yours did just the same.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this.”, Draco mumbled, before placing a small kiss on the crown of your head.

And he was right indeed. You had been completely oblivious to his feelings for so long, but now that you finally knew, it was making you happier than you could ever find the words to describe.

“Merlin, I love you, (Y/n).”, Draco mumbled, making yet another wave of heat flush through your body. But before you could even answer, he quickly added: “You… you don’t have to return this or anything. I just… I wanted to tell you for so long and… well, now I just had to.” You smiled as you heard the insecurity in his voice, something he barely ever showed to others.

“It´s not like I… maybe just take me on a date first, okay? I just… I don’t wanna rush things right now if that´s okay with you.”

“Anything for you, princess.”, Draco smiled, making your heart practically melt, as you snuggled yourself even closer to him.

“But one thing you have to tell me.”, Draco spoke up after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “You didn’t just have a brainwave, did you? Someone told you that I… well that I might like you more than just a friend.”

You felt your cheeks heating.

“Maybe Pansy gave me a little hint.”, you mumbled into his chest, making Draco chuckle deeply.

“A little hint?”

“Well, maybe it was more than that.”, you admitted. “She pretty much threw it in my face and I still didn’t catch it.”

“I always knew that you´re not the fastest broom in the sky.”, he grinned, making you frown.

“At least it didn’t take me… how long? Weeks? Months? To get a girl and then not even telling her but letting others do the job.”

“Actually it´s been years, if you really want to know. But I guess now McLaggen was good for something at least once.”, Draco responded. “Doesn’t mean I won't hex him the next time I´ll see his stupid visage.”

“If you´re hoping for me to stop you, I certainly won´t.”

“I was rather hoping you´d help me with it."

“So we can serve detention together? Romantic.”, you laughed.

Draco cupped your face with his hands and made you look up at him. You could see the mischievous sparkle that you had always loved so much glistening in his eyes.

“That´s just how I am, love.”, he responded, before he pulled you in yet another kiss.

And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

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