#so great i was both hyperaware of what my expression was while also not having any gd idea what she was talking about

[placesyoucallhome]

If i didn't have a hell of a headache i'd be drinking this day off tbh

[hersweetrevenge]

dude you need to make a series about those corey gifs dissecting each moment bc your takes are amazing

ahh thank you so much !! 💗

rohan has such a phenomenally expressive face !! i get the sense he really feels what he's acting and you can see it in every twitch and flinch and tic he has. i could honestly watch gifs of him for hours just to analyse all of his expressions, and try and catch ever little micro expression within them. it's all the subtle details that make for an amazingly visceral performance.

i'm absolutely fascinated with corey's body language, everything he does is says so much !! he's in a very interesting position of being both hyperaware of his own presence and how he thinks people percieve him, while also being a visually emotional person, who can never quite hide his emotions as much as he'd like to. corey's character arc also means we see a great mix of behaviours, from natural tics that he can't help doing, or habitual actions, to moments where you can see that he's trying to keep himself in check, or even that he's putting on an act.

i've talked about a few moments before, [here] and [here] !! (and a little bit here but i don't talk as much about his body language),, because i don't make my own gifs i sometimes feel bad about hijacking someone else's post if i have a lot of thoughts to add, but i really do love analysing them and i'd love to talk about more moments if people are interested !!

[sleepy-belphie]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why 

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways 

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel 

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Locked Out

winter prompts day 10 ❄️ lost in a storm

 If Jaskier was a stupider man, he'd be confused about the sheer amount of times he and Geralt seem to be getting stuck places together. But he and Geralt had been the first to arrive and these things only started happening after both Eskel and Lambert had reached the keep. Jaskier can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that none of this is an accident.

Unfortunately for him, Jaskier also knows why it's happening. Witchers can smell all sorts of stupid, inconvenient shit, one of the more prominent (and most inconvenient) of those being the changes in human emotion. Meaning that if Jaskier wants to keep his feelings to himself, he has to try very hard to do so. And he discovered almost as soon as the other Witchers showed up that he is terrible at it. The only conclusion he can come to is that between the four of them, they've come to the (albeit correct) conclusion, that Jaskier is hopelessly in love with Geralt, and set themselves to the task of getting together.

What they don't know, is that Geralt barely tolerates Jaskier at the best of times and getting them together is a lost cause. He wants to confront them about it, but he rather likes the time he gets to spend alone with Geralt, whether they're cooking or cleaning or chopping wood. Geralt is different up at the keep than he is on the Path and Jaskier likes this friendlier, more open side of him. So, as long as no one is getting hurt (himself notwithstanding) he decides there's nothing wrong with their little game. They think they're solving a problem and Jaskier gets to spend some time with his friend in a place that's comfortable for him.

Then, one day, they're all gathered in the main hall. Vesemir has long grown tired of Geralt and Lambert's bickering and has retired to his room or the library or wherever it is he goes when he's had enough. Jaskier is once again left alone with the younger wolves and Aiden and he's enjoying the conversation, but he finds himself tuning out more and more often tonight, wondering what it was like to grow up in a place like this.

He knows it was very different then, that there were many more Witchers who called Kaer Morhen home, but he doesn't dare ask more than that. He's gleaned enough from the little bits and pieces from Geralt to know that his childhood was not a happy one and if he's happier here now, Jaskier doesn't want to stir up bad memories.

Jaskier doesn't realize he's staring at Geralt until Lambert nudges him. He shales his head and turns around to a very smug look.

"Aiden's gonna grab drinks," Lambert says, "why don't you and Geralt go get more firewood while we settle up in here." Jaskier nods obediently, casting a quick look in Geralt's direction to see if he suspects anything. Geralt just sighs as he rises to his feet. Jaskier follows suit and traipses after Geralt toward the large doors.

They've only been outside a couple of seconds when Jaskier hears the doors click shut behind them and the sound of the lock being slid across. He spins on his heel immediately and Geralt takes a few steps back, pressing on the door, to no avail.

"You can come back in when you figure your shit out!" Lambert calls through the door. Jaskier can hear them mumbling afterward, but it's too quiet to hear properly. Geralt sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Idiots," he mumbles and turns back to Jaskier. He seems surprisingly calm, but Jaskier feels immediately guilty. This is his fault. He shouldn't have let the game go on for so long and now they're stuck out in the cold until, well, until Lambert and his cohorts decide that they've figured their shit out - something Jaskier knows won't happen.

Fuck. He should have talked to Eskel when he had the chance. He knows Eskel would have listened, that he wouldn't want to force Geralt into something he's uncomfortable with. He might have even talked to Lambert and Aiden about it, gotten them to call it off as well, but Jaskier had been greedy. He had wanted too badly to spend time with Geralt that he hadn't considered things might get out of hand, and now they have.

All at once, he realizes the only way to solve this is to own up to his own feelings. Maybe it will make Geralt uncomfortable for a little while and maybe he won't want to travel with him any longer, but it's his fault for not saying something earlier. Now, it's the only thing he can do to fix this.

He turns to try to explain to Geralt, but when he does, Geralt is smirking back at him.

"Bastards," he mumbles, "what do you say we beat them at their own game?"

Jaskier, stunned, just looks at him.

"I-" if that's what Geralt wants, how could Jaskier turn him down considering this is his fault. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

"Find somewhere to hide out until they come looking for us," Geralt smirks. Jaskier finds himself at a loss. Ever since coming to Kaer Morhen, he's been continuously surprised about how much fun Geralt really could be when he was comfortable enough to let go. He finds himself agreeing without even thinking through what a terrible idea this could actually be.

"Come on," Geralt says, "we'll head up to the old watchtower and watch them from there."

It's a great idea in theory. In practice, Jaskier will be oblivious to whatever Geralt is watching and he's already wondering why he agreed to this. They barely make it down the hill before it starts to snow and Jaskier sighs to himself. He doesn't quite understand why he's feeling so bad about all of this because Geralt seems to be having a perfectly fine time with it and regularly Jaskier would be thrilled to (team up) with him, but tonight, he's still feeling a little guilty about everything.

A part of him is even hoping Geralt will turn around when the snow starts, but he doesn't and it only starts to snow more heavily. Jaskier does his best to keep up but finds he's falling behind and eventually gives up when he loses sight of Geralt altogether.

"Geralt!" he shouts and for a moment there's no response. Great, he was stupid enough to keep playing along with this and now he's going to die for it, lost and frozen in the middle of fucking nowhere.

He drops to his knees in the snow and is almost immediately hauled back up to his feet. Geralt's arm wraps around his shoulders and suddenly Jaskier is being walked forward through the snow. He has no idea if they're going in the same direction or if they've turned around, but he trusts Geralt to keep him safe.

He doesn't know how long they walk before coming upon a partial structure, half-buried in the snow. Jaskier is pushed inside and Geralt follows shortly, brushing the snow off of himself and then Jaskier. Before he can stop to consider his options, Jaskier is being tugged down into Geralt's lap and bundled up in his arms. He squirms but Geralt holds him close.

"Just... let me warm you up. You're nearly frozen." Jaskier wants to point out that it's Geralt's fault he's nearly frozen, but he's feeling more miserable than bitter.

Reluctantly, he lets Geralt hold him and hopes that he's considered warmed up sooner rather than later. He relaxes into it after a moment, but he's hyperaware of every place they touch. Geralt's hands are warm and comforting, but when they slip under the hem of his shirt, Jaskier pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I can't let you do this."

"Do... what?" Geralt asks. The expression on his face is a combination of hurt and confusion and Jaskier hates it, but he knows this is for the best.

"Treat me like this," he mumbles. "It's my fault we're in this place."

"Jaskier, I wasn't going to force you through the snow-"

"I don't mean here in this little shack, Geralt. I mean locked outside the keep in the first place." At this point, Geralt looks at him like he's speaking a whole other language and Jaskier sighs. His shoulders slump and he braces himself, but he supposes it was bound to come out at some point. It's been twenty years, after all.

"You know what they're doing, right?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shrugs.

"Being idiots."

"No." Jaskier pauses, but he can't bring himself to look up at Geralt. He's imagined telling Geralt how he feels time and time again, but he never expected it to be an apology. "Geralt they're trying to get us alone together on purpose. Because of my- because of the way I feel about you. Witchers can smell feelings or whatever, right? And I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought I was, so they've obviously figured it out. And I know they're just trying to help, but they don't realize that you don't-" he chokes on the words He's thought they dozens of times, but knowing Geralt doesn't feel the same and saying it out loud are two different things.

"Jask?" Geralt says softly and when Jaskier looks up, he's moved closer and he's smiling softly at him. "Is that why you think they're doing this?" Jaskier nods and Geralt sighs and shuts his eyes. "Jaskier, come here."

"Are you sure?"

"Jaskier."

"Okay, okay." He shuffles closer again, letting Geralt's arms wind around him. He tries not to press into him, but the hut is cold and Geralt is so warm and he smells wonderful, like leather and smoke and home and Jaskier is so worried about being so close that he doesn't realize Geralt is talking until he rests his chin on Jaskier's head.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Uh. Yes?" Geralt sighs and does something that Jaskier can only assume is nosing at his hair.

"I didn't know about your... feelings. I thought they were just fucking with me." His arms close in a little tighter and Jaskier is too confused to fight against it. Geralt chuckles softly and Jaskier is fairly certain he's actually imagining things when he feels soft lips press against his head. "If I'd known you were amenable, I would have kissed you a long time ago and gotten them off our backs."

At that, Jaskier is certain something is wrong. Geralt doesn't just say things like that. He pulls out of his arms, turning to face him.

"Are you sick?" he asks and Geralt tips forward, swiftly closing the space between them and catching Jaskier's lips in a soft kiss.

Jaskier's mind goes entirely blank and he forgets what he's supposed to do with someone's mouth against his own. Then, Geralt's thumb comes up to brush against his cheek and when Geralt deepens the kiss, Jaskier moans softly and his reflexes take over, leaning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Geralt's shoulders.

Without hesitation, Geralt winds his arms around his waist, hauling Jaskier up into his lap and leaning back against the wall. The kiss seems to last an eternity and no time at all and when Jaskier pulls away it's only because he's abruptly aware that he still needs to breathe.

"Oh," he breathes and Geralt smiles at him, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair back behind Jaskier's ear.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Me too. I suppose this means we'll have to thank the other?"

Geralt chuckles as he curls a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck and draws him close for another kiss. "Not a chance."

[plutoswrath]

i’m jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. i’m arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i haven’t been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldn’t have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. i’m not a horse girl, i swear on my life.

i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the “are you a dog or cat person” question. they’d get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isn’t big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. it’s probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.

if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one they’d like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpio’s deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, i’ve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if you’re nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think they’re a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized i’ve rambled but i’m looking forward to your opinion because i’m so lost on what other signs would have. it’s been a year old question in my brain and it’s time for help from the master.

I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!

The Signs as Animals:

Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my ‘the Wild Unknown Animal Spirit’ tarot deck.

Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they don‘t bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.

Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini: Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.

Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more. 

Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, I’m not using the Platypus because ‚wow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens 🤪🤪’ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what we’ve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces:  Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know it’s only the ravens that have been documented intimating people’s voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what other’s cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense. 

[nikmikaelsonswife]

Alaric’s in Love with You but Klaus Was Your One and Only

contains s5 TO spoilers that you’ve probably seen before since you’re on tumblr. set in legacies.

It started when Hope returned to Mystic Falls with you in tow, someone Alaric hadn’t seen in over a decade. You’d changed; physically and mentally. Your hair was darker and shorter, brushing your shoulders as well as your eyes had lost that pretty, dangerous sparkle. You were less extroverted, but that was understandable since you had gone through tremendous heart break.

It also didn’t help that you’d returned to a place that once was your home, the changes having a much heavier and worse effect on you than you had anticipated. You’d spent a great deal of time staring at the Stefan Salvatore Memorial plac, reliving the past, not even having the courage to enter the library.

The way you closed off was only half the reason Alaric and you hadn’t slipped back into old habits. The other was that frankly, it wasn’t easy for him to trust a Salvatore, much less a Mikaelson. You just so happened to be both; the woman who brought the two vampire families together. He didn’t see that as good in any way, shape or form.

He’d never had an issue with you, it was always your brothers, husband and his family stirring the pot and setting paths of destruction in their wake. It was rare for you to aid in it voluntarily, but at the end of the day, you were still a vampire. No matter how much you tried to avoid darkness and evil, you couldn’t hide from something that was apart of who you were.

But then again, he hadn’t seen you in so long. It was before you had officially moved to New Orleans, before you had truly began to cope with Stefan’s death and before you had helped in raising a child. Now you had gone through all of that, along with losing the love of your life and it didn’t take you opening up to him to notice that you weren’t the same person.

Out of nearly two centuries, the past decade had been the worst of your life as well as the best. You’d grown so much and Alaric couldn’t say that he didn’t like who you had become.

He was surprisingly able to set aside your supernatural nature enough to grow quite fond of you. With the help of the people around you, the distraction of being co-headmaster and weekly phone calls with Damon, you were able to break through the grief-stricken shell you’d built around yourself. It allowed Alaric to truly see you again.

At your core, you were still (Y/N), the woman he bantered with in the early morning hours in his office over take out that you had convinced him on buying. The woman who would shout, “YES,” when she’d crack a case all on her own, flashing him a breathtakingly gorgeous smile that made his heart flutter.

He could still pinpoint the day you took your wedding ring off on a calendar, stating that, “I can’t go on everyday with this reminder. I need to live my life.” He knew that was hard for you, since you had refused to take it off for a full two years following Klaus’ death. Perhaps, it meant something.

His brain would turn to mush every time you pulled him in for a hug after a particularly dangerous day, or when you’d catch him staring and give him a quizzical almost smug look. He had a hard time in controlling how his pulse would quicken up when near you, aware that if you listened for it, you’d hear it.

You were far from dumb, as well as the students attending the school. His daughters often gave him a look when they’d catch him acting weird and Hope had even cornered him asking if he had a thing for you with a threatening look on her face.

“I do not have a thing for Dr. Salvatore...”

“Salvatore-Mikaelson,” Hope corrected, arms crossed over her chest. She could see through his bullshit and both of them knew it.

“Look,” she sighed, “(Y/N) is like a mother to me. I’ve known her all my life. For your sake and for hers, I’m going to be completely honest. I doubt she’ll ever get over my dad.”

Sincerity shone in her eyes, a slight frown in her brow. “You didn’t get the chance to but I saw them together. Nothing could match up to what they had. They were soulmates. She doesn’t want anyone else.”

Alaric cleared his throat, briefly adverting his gaze to the floor. “I..I..” He stumbled over his words, unaware of what to say. Deep down, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But he couldn’t let his façade drop.

“Have a good day, Hope.”

He’d sat down in his office to mull over her words, pulling a hand over his face every time he’d get too caught up in his thoughts.

If what Hope told him was the case, then what about the little flirtatious glances? Or the way you snuggled into him when you fell asleep in his office that one night?

A small smile tugged at his lips when he thought about how you had berated him after he went off on his own to fight a monster. You had been fuming, eyes watery, yelling about how he was only human and a selfish jackass to not think about all the people who cared about him.

How you cared about him.

He hadn’t felt the way he did since Jo died, not even for Caroline, and it was one he had missed. One he’d been harboring for months and he felt like it was time to confess. If his feelings were requited, he couldn’t imagine a better future than that, a better feeling than that. It was all he was focused on when he said those three little words.

“I..I like you. A lot.”

It was one night when the two of you had gotten a little carried away with the liquor stored underneath your desk. You were snuggled up against him on the couch, but thought nothing of it. Unlike Alaric.

Brows furrowing, it took you a moment to register his words due to the sleepy haze and the alcohol coursing through your system. And when you did, the tension alleviated from your shoulders before you lightly punched him in his. “I like you too. A lot.”

He shook his head, throwing caution and anxiety to the wind before he clarified. “(Y/N), I’m in love with you.”

His eyes were closed so he couldn’t see the way you froze. “I have been for a while. You’re sweet, loving, unbelievably beautiful and an amazing friend. Being co-headmaster with you, seeing you with everyone...I couldn’t help but imagine a life with you by my side officially.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” his eyes fluttered open, which is when he noticed that you had moved away. His heart dropped at that. “I don’t want you to feel pressured...”

“Alaric.” You interjected, fingers toying with the N necklace dangling from your neck; the necklace that was always hidden underneath your shirt, which Alaric hadn’t noticed you still wore until now.

And that combined with the melancholy expression on your face made his stomach churn in fear and realization. He’d made a huge mistake.

Inhaling deeply, you contemplated on what to say. “I like you, Alaric.” His eyebrows raised, hope glistening in his gaze but you quickly shot that down. “But this can’t happen.”

His gaze softened as you stood up from the couch. “It’s not fair to you. I can’t be that woman for you, for Lizzie and Josie.”

“I’m not expecting anything from you...”

“Apparently you are since you told me that you’re in love with me!” Both of you were shocked by your outburst and you quickly apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m overwhelmed.”

A moment of tense silence ensued as you stared at the ground, hyperaware of his gaze on your face. “Klaus was different.” You suddenly spoke, bottom lip quivering as the feelings you had buried resurfaced, “I thought I was going to spend eternity with him.”

“I understand that.” He leaned forward, “I felt the same when Jo died. And it took me a while to move on. I can wait.”

You lifted your gaze to lock it with his. “I wouldn’t ever ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m just stating. I understand if you need time.” Tears began to gather on your lashes, fingers threading through your hair as you sighed. He was making it more difficult than it already was. You didn’t want to break his heart.

“I still cry in the shower, Al! And when I’m not crying, I’m talking to my dead husband!” Your eyes were wide, voice loud and shaking as you stifled your cries. “I continue to dwell on the past. I dream about him every night. Hell, I even write in a journal about him.”

“After almost three years, I’m still mourning as if I lost him yesterday. And I know for a fact that it will always be like that.”

He stood up at that, his face contorted into a incredulous expression. “But what about the looks you give me? Or the cuddling? You can’t tell me that didn’t mean anything.”

“That’s how I’ve always reacted when a man was interested in me! I thought it was a short term thing or that you wanted to get in bed with me. But just that.”

“It’s not just that. I love you.”

Your heart broke even further at how those words made your stomach churn. “Please. Don’t.” Hatred boiled in your chest as you were upset with him. Upset that he’d ruined a strong bond that took years to build, that you wouldn’t be able to find comfort in your friendship anymore.

“Klaus will always be the man my heart belongs to. He was my one and only. He was my soulmate.”

“You have to stay here and take care of Hope.” He swiped his thumb across your wet skin, “Don’t worry, my love, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

The word echoed in his head, a memory of his conversation with Hope crossing his mind. Soulmate. “(Y/N)...”

“I’m sorry, Alaric.” He internally grimaced at the absence of his nickname and he found himself wondering if the relationship he had with you would ever be the same. Found himself acknowledging that he, in fact, ruined it.

It made him angry as well. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

Your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, “You deserve someone special, Alaric. That someone just can’t be me.”

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 8

oof I don’t know if I actually like this chapter or not. imposter syndrome has taken up residence in my brain and it’s not looking to move out anytime soon. hopefully this is better than I’m giving myself credit for. 

I’m gonna try and get on a more regular schedule of updating this weekly. I think we’ve got one more part to day three and then a chapter each for days four & five. there might also be another middle of the night chapter, trying to figure out if it fits into the timeline like I want it to or not. you get some sneak peaks of angsty Luke in this part which I’m kind of excited about. can’t be all soft boy all the time. gotta get that ~dimension~

also, I wrote a one-shot of Ray and Rose’s first date that was referenced waaaay back in pt. 6! it’s also the story of Tia Victoria’s 21st birthday that was referenced in pt. 7! I really love it which isn’t something I’ve felt about my writing lately so you should check it out.

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Julie had expected a mess of sloppy, overlapping notes and kinks that would need to be quickly smoothed out by Friday’s performance. She had been ready to go into the Showcase and just give it their best, hoping that maybe they would sound somewhat coherent, but not really expecting much all the same. A band couldn’t be built in a day. It was part of why she thought Luke’s plan was so insane. She couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried.

Within the first three run-throughs of the song things just seemed to click into place. It was like she had been playing with them her entire life. The longer they played, the more they slipped naturally into their role as bandmates. The energy in the room, the chemistry between the four of them, was palpable. She knew they could feel it too.

It was the way Reggie turned to her at the exact moment she moved towards him, playing off of her as she gave into her need to move to the bassline vibrating through her feet. It was how Alex’s face lit up with a kind of unrestrained joy she had never seen before, face shining as he nodded his head in time with his tapping foot when she turned towards him. They laughed together as she flipped her hair out of her eyes at the exact same time he did, completely in sync as they moved to the rhythm created by his fast-moving sticks. It was every single part of Luke.

His head, tilting to the side to call her to him just as she began to drift closer to his side. His voice, blending with hers like they had been made to sing together. His eyes, drilling into hers as she held her microphone out for them to share. His fingers, so sure on the strings beneath them that he didn’t once break their stare down. The tension she had felt simmering between them for the last few days exploded. They felt it at the exact same moment as their most seamless playthrough of the song came to a close.

Julie’s voice rang out beyond the instruments as she held her final note a beat longer than everyone else. She could hear the sound of Reggie and Alex’s voices rising with enthusiasm as they talked, but she couldn’t make out their words. Everything felt a little soft on the edges as Luke gazed at her with so much awe she thought she would float off the ground. He made her feel transcendent. Like the celestial being he claimed her to be. It was hard to feel like she wasn’t in Heaven when he looked at her like that. Her breath caught in her throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly she was being jostled from behind, her moment with Luke broken. Her feet stumbled as leather-clad arms wrapped around her tightly, sweeping her into a clumsy spin.

“Julie! That was amazing!”

Reggie’s voice was sparkling, and she couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving into the all-consuming feeling of happiness that was bubbling up inside of her. They came to a stop as a longer pair of arms covered in soft pink cotton pulled them close. Julie met Alex’s eyes, giving him a grateful smile as the studio finally came back into focus. He beamed back at her, completely relaxed and damn near glowing.

“I gotta agree with Reg for once.”

Julie giggled as Reggie let out an indignant shout, lips slipping into a pout. Alex ignored him, releasing his hold on both of them, but still talking to Julie.

“Seriously, Julie, I totally see what Luke has been saying. He was right, you’re perfect.”

Julie felt hot all the way from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. She gave Luke a side-eyed glance, heart tripping as she caught the quick expression of embarrassed betrayal on his face. So, he had actually used the word ‘perfect’ to describe her. He had talked about her to his boys, and not just as a musician. This wasn’t only about the music. She knew that, or she should have known that by now, but to be faced with it so plainly was something else entirely. Luke attempted to slip into a casual slouch, but his hand scratching at the back of his neck gave away the nerves he was feeling as his gaze slipped back over to hers. Julie gulped, breathing out slowly.

“What can I say? You definitely make us better.”

Another attempt at a nonchalant shrug that was foiled by his still-scratching hand and slight vocal crack. Julie’s heart raced, her stomach flipping low in her gut. So, this is what a real crush feels like. Julie had crushed on boys before, or so she had thought. Never before had she felt like this. She hadn’t actually known the other boys she had been attracted to. Not in the way she was beginning to realize she knew Luke. She had kept herself at a distance from them, building up a fantasy in her mind as to what type of person they were and what it would be like to see that fantasy come to life. Her crushes had always been somewhat superficial and definitely unobtainable. Luke was neither one of those things. He was right here. She knew him. Connected with him on a level deeper than should be possible after only three days, but it was undeniable all the same. Her soul whispered that she had always known him, she had simply been waiting for him to return to his true home within her heart all this time.

Luke was shifting uneasily on his feet, just like earlier in the day when he realized he had taken his bold declarations a step too far. Only this time, Julie realized she liked when he did that. The way he built her up without even trying, an endless supply of support and admiration falling from his lips so easily. Julie simultaneously wanted to reassure him and also continue needling him because the way his words made her feel was a high like no other. His eyes crinkled at the edges, smile softening just for her. She gave in to the temptation to touch him, reaching up to lightly grasp his wrist. The scratching finally stopped, and Julie gave a special soft smile of her own.

“I think we make each other better. That’s a great song, Luke. Thank you for doing this for me.”

Julie released her grip and lowered her hand, biting her lip slightly. She didn’t miss the way that Luke’s ears tinged pink, his arm hovering in the air for a second as he processed her words. Their eyes locked, a million fleeting emotions passing between them in seconds, their own form of silent communication. With Luke, Julie was learning that there was a lot more in the things left unsaid than the things that he let slip out. Her words meant more to him than he would ever be able to express and she wondered if that related back to something with Bobby or something with his parents. Maybe even both. The moment stretched on, the rest of the studio melting away in the background. Until Reggie’s whisper broke through.

“I see chemistry.”

The twin slaps of Alex’s hand on his forehead and Luke’s hand falling to his thigh echoed in the otherwise silent space. Julie felt her cheeks burn, breaking away from Luke’s gaze to face the other boys once again. She really had to stop letting herself get swept up in him. Especially when they had such an observant audience. Her eyes darted to the clock behind them, surprised to find several hours had already passed. Her dad would probably be calling her up for dinner soon. Right on cue, the studio doors rattled and opened. Carlos, framed by the setting sun behind him, studied the group of teenagers.

“So, this is your boy band?”

“Boy band! Who you callin ‘boy band’?!”

Luke’s indignant shout would have been funny if Julie wasn’t hyperaware of how close she was still standing to him. Carlos’s skeptical brown eyes darted back and forth between them like he could tell he had missed out on a golden opportunity to embarrass her. He smirked slightly, crossing his arms as he regarded Luke.

“I mean, you’re boys in a band. Ergo, boy band.” His hands lifted in a falsely innocent shrug. “I don’t make the rules.”

Reggie giggled as Luke’s jaw dropped slightly, stunned into silence by her brother’s sass. Even Alex was fighting back a grin. Reggie stepped closer to Carlos, whipping out his hand for a high-five.

“Up top, little dude!”

Carlos’s smirk melted into a genuine smile as he lifted onto his toes to smack Reggie’s hand. Julie rolled her eyes, nudging Luke a bit while the others were distracted. He turned to her with a small pout.

“Kids usually think I’m cool.”

“No, kids usually think you’re another kid.” Alex chimed in gleefully.

Luke’s pout deepened and Julie couldn’t resist knocking their fingers together for a quick brush of contact.

“I think you’re cool.”

The whisper was low, but she could tell he heard it by the way he snatched her hand into his, squeezing it for a brief moment as he gave her that burning look again. The interaction was over in a second, but Julie felt the lingering fire race across her skin. She wished she could have a minute or ten alone with him. She turned back to Carlos in the doorway before he could notice. That kid didn’t need any more ammunition against her, thank you very much.

“Did you need something, Carlos? Or are you just here to be a pest?”

He broke off his conversation with Reggie to stick his tongue out at her. She repeated the gesture back to him.

“I need a lot of things actually. Like a normal sister for one.”

He snickered at the way her nostrils flared, fully aware that she wanted to reach out and cuff the back of his head but wouldn’t do it in front of other people. She settled for gritting her teeth and reminding herself that as annoying as Carlos was, he was also her little brother and she loved him. She just didn’t always appreciate his astonishing lack of a filter around older boys that he thought were cool. Luke had read him all wrong of course. Carlos only teased people he was in awe of. That reminder calmed her as well. He was teasing out of love, and because he was nervous around these teenagers that he clearly wanted to like him. She could give him a pass. She could also tease him right back.

“I know where you sleep, twerp. Relay your message or scram.”

He rolled his eyes at her lame threat, but dropped the bratty attitude nonetheless.

“Dad says it’s time to eat. He said the guys can stay if they’re hungry.”

Carlos couldn’t fully hide the hope in his voice, though he tried to sound indifferent about it. Julie watched the boys share a quick look, an entire conversation taking place in mere seconds. Alex’s arm went around Reggie, who sagged a bit like he was disappointed. Luke’s hand went back to his neck, body slumping as if to shrink himself. Alex’s fingers tapped out a restless beat against his thigh. None of them moved to speak. Julie couldn’t stand the uncomfortable way the air grew thick between them.

“I’m sure the guys have plans already, bud. This was kind of a last-minute thing. Maybe tomorrow?”

She aimed the question at the boys instead of Carlos. They seemed to melt all at once. Another silent conversation communicated through glances. Reggie took the lead this time.

“That sounds great! As long as you’re sure your dad won’t mind. We don’t wanna be a burden.”

Julie shook her head, heart aching at the way Reggie said ‘burden’ like it was a title he was used to.

“No burden at all. Dad always makes too much spaghetti anyway. And my Tía usually brings food a few times a week so we literally always have leftovers. You guys would be helping us out by eating them up, honestly.”

Reggie smiled at her, and Julie was surprised to find that she wanted to cry. Not because she was happy or sad or any particular emotion really, but because Reggie made her feel the same way Carlos did when it was the middle of the night and she was waking up to the feeling of his cold feet against her calves and his whispered confession about not wanting to be alone right then. She felt protective. Ready to fight whatever or whoever it was out there that had made him believe he was too much simply by existing. Was this what her mom had talked about when she said the best bands were actually families? Julie had always taken that to mean her family, as in her mom and her. Maybe what she had been saying all along was that the magic of music could make a family. The right connections, the right mix of artists, and it wasn’t just about playing anymore. It was about creating something together, breathing life into their art as one entity. Caring for each other, lifting each other up, bandaging each other’s wounds.

The enormity of the realization that all it took was one afternoon for her to adopt these three idiots hit her like a ton of bricks. She didn’t even know them, and yet, she did. Their souls were forever intertwined. Whatever feeling had overtaken them during their practice would linger for the rest of eternity, burned into her heart like a brand. The magic of music.

“Thanks, Julie.”

Alex’s voice was soft, fingers calm once more. Julie nodded, not trusting herself to speak right then.

“Cool!”

Carlos whooped, breaking the moment once again. This time, Julie didn’t mind so much.

“I’ll go tell Dad. See you guys later!”

He was off like a rocket, propelled forward by his unshakeable enthusiasm. The arm that Alex still had around Reggie flexed for a moment before dropping. Reggie gave him a quick smile, lifting his bass over his head. Luke swung his guitar onto his back, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. Julie could tell something was bothering him. Alex seemed to feel it too.

“Hey, Reg, can you go unlock the van? I’m gonna start carrying my kit up.”

Alex tossed the keys to Reggie, who somehow managed to catch them singlehandedly while still holding his bass. His eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then he looked over at Luke and understanding dawned. He raced out of the studio without a word, Alex close behind him cradling his bass drum in his arms. Julie turned to Luke once they were alone, only to be met with his back as he fiddled with his guitar in its case. His shoulders were raised high, muscles bunched tightly under his shirt. She took a few steps forward, resting her hand lightly on his back once she was next to him. He relaxed slightly and she sighed in relief. Her fingers took on a mind of their own, softly rubbing until he let his shoulders fall.

“Please don’t feel obligated to stay for dinner tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

Luke spun around so quickly Julie didn’t have time to step back. He grabbed her elbows, steadying her but not moving out of her space. His expression was torn, eyes intense. Julie felt her throat tighten.

“No, Julie, it’s not that. I just...families are hard. For me. For...us.”

His eyes flew to the still open doors and back. She didn’t have to ask who the us was.

“Your dad seems really great. Your brother too. I just...it’s silly, but I don’t wanna let you or your family down.”

He bit his lip, gaze slipping down to the floor. They stood toe-to-toe, the tips of their sneakers almost touching. Julie breathed in deeply, the faint smell of her shampoo tickling her nose. It had to be coming off of Luke. Her own hair had been tied back into a bun at the beginning of band practice. It was an intimate reminder of the night before. When he hadn’t been home in the middle of the night because sometimes it was better to be elsewhere, even if elsewhere just meant not there. She couldn’t relate to that feeling. Her home had never felt like anything other than a welcoming, safe space. Her family had never been anything other than loving and supportive, even in the rare moments when they fought with each other.

“Luke, I’m pretty sure my dad thinks that you’re an angel. He was so happy this afternoon he didn’t even bring up the meeting with Lessa. You’re the reason I’m playing music again and that’s as good as gold in his eyes.”

“No way, Molina.” Luke scoffed, hands raising from her elbows to her shoulders. “That’s all on you. I didn’t do anything except ambush you for my own personal gain.”

Julie was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. He was trying to play everything off with that cocky, cool kid attitude, but she knew him better now. That bravado was all a defense mechanism. One of her own hands lifted, brushing his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering along his jawline.

“You’re wrong, Patterson.”

She didn’t miss the way he jerked a bit when she used his last name, his pupils widening slightly. A small smile formed on her lips. Two could play at that game.

“You rescued my mom’s song and protected it all this time. You brought it back to me right when I needed it. Did you know that was the last song she ever worked on? The last song we ever worked on. That song is the last piece of my mom. I don’t think I would have ever been able to play again without it, and I didn’t even realize that until yougave it back to me.”

She edged forward until their shoes touched. It wasn’t that much closer, but Julie could feel every inch of space lost between them. Luke’s eyes were doing that soft, starry thing again, and Julie thought her own eyes might look the same. He let his hands fall from her shoulders until they were resting lightly against her waist. Her own hands snuck around his neck, fingertips brushing against his soft, jasmine scented hair. Luke swayed their bodies slightly, his need for constant motion of some kind getting the best of him. It made her want to laugh, but this moment felt too big for that. Of all the ways her relationship with Luke had rapidly shifted in the last few days, this felt like the most serious. She wasn’t trying to fight him anymore. She was laying her cards out just as openly as he had.

“Julie...”

She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him further, his voice twisting her name into the sweetest sounding melody. Luke didn’t get a chance to say or do anything else before noise filtered in through the still open studio doors. Alex’s voice, louder than Julie had ever heard it before, as he chatted with Reggie. Luke’s shoulders curved slightly, like he was disappointed, before he straightened and put some more space between them. They dropped their hands at the same time, the loss of contact causing her to shiver. Luke shot her a quick smile, so Julie knew his actions were less about hiding her and more about not wanting to share their delicate relationship with anyone else just yet. That was okay with her, too. It felt a little too new, a little too fragile, to let anyone else in on it just yet.

Alex and Reggie appeared only seconds later, Alex looking a little wary like he wasn’t sure his loud approach had been enough warning, Reggie’s expression open and happy, clearly oblivious to the thick tension between Luke and Julie. He was babbling to Alex about something involving physics homework, both of them moving to collect several other pieces of Alex’s kit. Luke gave her one last glance before he left her side to lift an amp. Julie was silent for a moment as she watched them before a realization had her smacking her forehead. The sound was loud enough to startle the boys, who turned to her with matching confused expressions on their faces.

“You guys are going to be right back over here tomorrow. You don’t need to take all your stuff out just to haul it back in here in like 24 hours. I should have said something earlier.”

Another silent conversation, the boys wary and anxious again. Julie wished she had a better understanding of the landmines she seemed to keep stumbling upon. Luke had given her a small hint, but the rejection anxiety ran deep in every single one of these boys. Reggie spoke up before Julie had the chance to reassure them.

“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?”

He was fiddling nervously with the strap on his bass, eyes wide. Alex’s grip flexed on the snare he held, Luke stepping closer to his guitar case. She heard the underlying question behind Reggie’s tone. Are you sure these parts of our souls will be safe here?

“He won’t mind at all. He hasn’t touched a thing in here since we locked it up after Mom...since we locked it up a year ago.”

She tried to keep her voice soft, her steps slow as she moved to place her hands against the top of the grand piano.

“My mom’s piano has been stored in here my entire life. I promise you the Molina’s know the importance of protecting our instruments. It’s up to you though. I totally get it if you want to keep them with you.”

Julie didn’t wait for their response, letting them process and decide for themselves how they felt about the situation. She bent to lift the sheet that usually covered the piano, shaking it a few times before closing the fallboard and draping the soft material over the instrument.  By the time she turned around, only Luke was left behind her. She raised a brow, concerned she had said the wrong thing. His lips stretched into one of the smiles reserved just for her.

“They went back to the van to get Alex’s bass drum.”

Her eyes darted off to the side behind him, noticing that the snare Alex had been holding was back in place, Reggie’s bass once more nestled into a guitar holder. She felt her frown soften into a smile, relieved that they seemed to trust her despite not really having much of a reason to.

“Thank you...for, ya know, being so cool about all of this.”

Luke’s voice was quiet, hands fidgeting like he was fighting the urge to raise them to the back of his neck.

“Luke, I should be the one thanking you. Seriously, you guys don’t have to do this for me, and you are anyway. Actually, you very well could get into trouble for doing this, and yet you’re still willing to take that risk. The least I can do is house your instruments for a few days.”

Julie didn’t mean to, but something in her voice had his head snapping up at the way she said her last sentence. Like he could tell that she was trying to say it wasn’t just the instruments she was willing to care for. It was the boys too. It was Luke. They didn’t say anything more, letting the sentiment hang in the air between them. Luke’s eyes were impossibly soft. If Julie hadn’t already plunged over the cliff ledge falling for him, this moment would have toppled her.

Reggie and Alex stumbled back in, both of them laughing but unable to fully articulate why. Something about an old Vine video and bible study. Alex reset his bass drum, Julie scrounging up another sheet from the linen closet in the bathroom to cover it for the night. And if she took an extra second to run her fingers over the towel now hanging on the hook next to the shower, the faint scent of jasmine and citrus body wash and Luke drifting off of it at the movement, well no one else had to know about that.

[elylandon]

Part 1 - Chapter 8: Voices

Summary: You’re running for your life when you cross paths with an ex-bounty hunter and his small, green companion. You never thought you’d find someone throughout the whole galaxy who was as lost as you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,681

Rating/Warnings: M for mature content. Swearing, violence, [eventual smut], etc.

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 

Note: (Slight AU - Slow Burn) I hope you enjoy this one! ❤

---

While the Razor Crest was a decently sized ship, it could still feel a bit cramped at times. You never liked tight spaces, but you could say you were used to sharing such close quarters with others. There were times when you had shared tiny rooms with two or three other girls in overflowing group homes, and other times when you were dragged into tight corners of Thasar’s estate by some of his business partners. So being stuck on the Crest for days on end, or crammed into that small barn back on Sorgan, hadn’t ever bothered you before.

But then everything changed. You had to admit that it wasn’t exactly instantaneous. It was a gradual change you hadn’t noticed until you were painfully aware of it. How could you not be when every time you saw the Mandalorian, your stomach would erupt in a fit of flutters, and every time he spoke, those flutters would melt into something deeper? And thanks to the confined space of the Razor Crest, seeing and hearing him was such a regular occurrence that, after two weeks of this, you were starting to lose your mind.

You just had to go and tell him how much he meant to you all those days ago, how much you trusted him now, when you had every reason not to trust anyone ever again. And then he just had to jump on your vulnerability wagon and tell you his name, wholeheartedly relaying that he trusted you too.

You needed to get off this gods damned ship.

That was difficult when your party hadn’t exactly found an ideal place to stay just yet. However, as much as you wanted the space to privately mull over all these troublesome feelings you were having around the Mandalorian, you’d desperately appreciate at least a few short hours off this ship for a supply run. So that’s what you suggested to Din.

“I don’t think we should go back to my usual spots,” Din said from his chair, filtering through different planets on his radar. “By now, the Guild might have discovered them and asked after me, knowing now that I visit those places every few weeks.”

You nodded from your co-pilot’s chair, assenting his point. The child was, as per usual, perched in your lap, happily fidgeting with your pendant. He was alternating between lightly sucking on it, and determinedly examining it. This kid really loved small, shiny objects.

“What if we went somewhere completely random? Just pick a planet, land and barter really quick, and then be back in space within a couple hours.”

“We’re easier targets on land. We’d risk alerting any nearby bounty hunters of our proximity,” Din stated matter-of-factly. You sighed.

“We’re risking that no matter where we go.”

“I know,” he said, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against each of the control sticks. He stared at the radar for a long moment, but finally selected a destination.

“What did you settle for?” you asked, sitting up a little to get a look over his shoulder.

“It’s a moon of the planet nearest to us. Seems to be a hub for trade. If any nearby tracking fobs go off, they’ll most likely assume we’re on the planet before they realize that we’re not. It’ll give us a little time.”

“A few hours worth, maybe?” There was a hopeful lilt to your tone.

“We shouldn’t push our luck. Two hours max.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, relieved. Din could tell. He glanced back at you.

“What? It’s only been two weeks and you’re already starting to feel restless?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, squelching the jitters vibrating through your body at his attention.

---

Din watched as your shoulders immediately relaxed upon disembarking the ship. He had witnessed them inch higher and higher with each day that they remained stuck out in space, searching in vain for their next sanctuary. You wouldn’t admit it, but the close quarters were finally starting to get to you.

Din knew this, because he could feel it as well. He wanted to say it was because he wasn’t used to travelling with others, but that was a complete lie. It was your presence that was making him antsy.

Whenever the two of you were in the same space on the ship, he was hyperaware of every move and sound you made. Often times, part of him was tempted to snap at you, and convince you to leave him be, so he could focus on the task at hand. But he never acted on it. He was grudgingly coming to the conclusion that he wanted that awareness of you, constantly.

Din had admitted to himself on Sorgan that he hadn’t wanted to leave you and the child behind, despite thinking it was in the best interests of you both. Now, though, it was beyond that. After everything you had said to him as the three of you left Sorgan, he wasn’t sure he could have gone through with it, no matter how determined he was. Your words had settled something in him, and he was still trying to come to terms with that.

He needed to get off that damned ship, too.

You took a few steps off the ramp, head swiveling, taking everything in. The child mimicked you as he sat in his satchel hanging against your hip. Your hand was resting against the outside of the bag, and the child’s ears twitched as he reached out with his own pudgy hands to grasp yours and hold it close. Din’s chest tightened as he looked on, and he blew out an annoyed breath at the feeling.

“Come on,” he said, trying but failing not to sound curt in his frustration. “We’re on the clock. Let’s see what we can find.”

---

Din’s hand kept finding the small of your back as he guided you through throngs of people in the market. You were very capable of maneuvering on your own, but didn’t dare say so. You were afraid that, if you gave him any indication that you were put off by this gesture, then he’d stop, and never do it again. So you smothered the butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach and allowed him to steer you along.

Aside from the very slight herded-little-lamb feeling, the gesture was very… pleasant.

Two hours flew by like that, and the two of you found everything you needed, including a drum of fuel that Din could syphon from. That would last you another couple weeks in space.

Great.

For the most part, every merchant you met had been friendly and fair. That was, until you came across a vendor selling miscellaneous parts and gadgets. Something displayed in the stall had caught your attention, and you dragged Din over to get a look. The surly old woman manning the stand eyed your approach, running a very telling glance over Din’s gleaming Mandalorian armor.

“Check these out,” you said excitedly, reaching for two earpieces that sort of reminded you of Bluetooth headsets. You handed one to Din. “They’re ear comlinks. They might come in handy.”

“What makes you say that?” Din questioned, inspecting the gadget.

“You’re going to have to take on jobs soon, and I won’t be able weasel my way into coming with you, kid in tow. We could use these to communicate, in case you wind up being gone longer than a few hours.”

Din considered this, but wound up shaking his head.

“That’s not a bad idea, but these have seen better days.” He waved the earpiece. “I’m pretty sure this one is broken.” You took it from him and examined it, then smiled up at him.

“I can fix them, though. I’m certain I could increase their range sensitivity too.”

“To how much?”

“As long as we’re on the same planet, we should have a stable connection.”

He really did like the practicality of the idea. He was also all too aware that his funds were running low, and that he’d need to rectify that soon. He hated to admit it, but he knew he’d fret if he left you and the child alone for several hours… or days. He knew you’d worry too, not knowing if he was having a difficult hunt, or if he was dead in a ditch. If you were sure you could get them working, and working that well, then he wasn’t opposed to it.

“How much?” he asked the merchant woman. She once again ran an appraising eye over his armor, then named her price.

It was outrageous.

“Now way,” you argued, holding the earpieces out for the woman to see the damage. “They’re broken. They should be a fraction of the original asking price.” The woman shook her head.

“That’s a seven percent increase of what I bought them for. I have to make a profit for a living, girl.”

“I think you must be misremembering how much you purchased this junk for,” Din said lowly.

“The price is the price,” she quipped, not budging an inch. Din sighed.

“Fine. Forget it then, Y/N. I’m sure we can take our business elsewhere for a better bargain.”

Din started to leave, but then he noticed your expression and stopped. You were so focused, making deliberate eye contact with the woman, face a serene, calm mask. It almost looked like the two of you were in a trance. On a strange impulse, Din reached for your arm, planning to grab your elbow and carefully pull you out of it. But you spoke before his fingers grazed you.

“You will reconsider,” you said, voice monotone and even. “-and give us a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

The woman blinked languidly, then straightened. Din watched, bemused, as she replied in the same monotone voice.

“I will reconsider, and give you a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

If you could see his face, you might have laughed as his mouth slackened a little, a confused and troubled look marring his features. A far more reasonable amount of credits changed hands and you pocketed the earpieces, stroking the child’s ear as you brought your hand back to rest over him. As the woman started to blink more rapidly, coming out of whatever spell you had put her in, you quickly turned towards Din and grabbed his forearm with your free hand, pulling him away from the stall.

“Time’s up, right?” you asked, not even looking back at him. “We should get going.”

When Din found his words again, he said, “Just going to gloss right over whatever the hell that was back there?”

“Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out exactly how these powers work myself.”

As Din matched your stride through the market, you grudgingly released his arm. He looked at you sidelong.

“I thought you could only move things, like the kid.”

“If his abilities and mine are the same, I have a feeling he can do more than lift a mudhorn,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of crowds.

“Explain,” Din demanded.

“I will. When we’re back on the ship.”

---

Once you all were on course again, Din found himself watching you tinker with the earpieces. He was handing you tools when you asked for them, and waiting until you were ready to start explaining what had happened with the merchant. He had hauled the necessary equipment you needed into the cockpit, neither of you wanting to disturb the child that was sleeping down on Din’s cot. The comlinks were so small, and the tiny wiring looked a little complicated in his opinion, but you seemed to know what you were doing, so he just observed. Several times you had glanced up and noticed the set of his broad shoulders. He was waiting, but he was apprehensive, strumming like a livewire. You sighed.

“When I was a kid, there had been a couple times when I was able to-” you tried to find the right words. “-strongly convince others to do or not do things.” You refocused your attention on the earpieces, working while you talked, not really wanting to meet his concealed eyes as you told him this.

“Like one of my foster moms. Her husband would slap her around, and one day I got so sick of it, I threatened to knife him in his sleep if he didn’t stop. I was barely nine; I’m not sure what made me think I could play the intimidation card. He just locked me in a closet for several days.”

You really didn’t like talking about these things. However, you knew it would be easier for Din to understand the revelation you made with that woman today if you gave him a few examples. You soldiered on.

“I wasn’t sure how many days it had been, but I was starving, and I heard her walk by. I remember her opening the door when I called out to her, and I saw the absolute horror in her eyes at what her husband was doing to me. But there was also her fear of disobeying him, of the beating she would get if he saw her even talking to me. I didn’t really give a damn what she felt at that moment. She was letting him get away with it, even after I stood up for her, so she could go to hell for all I cared. But, I was so hungry, so I was going to do everything I could to get her to bring me some food. I found it strange that it didn’t take much.”

Din remained completely still as you spoke. You had to keep checking his chest to make sure he was even breathing, as if his tightly clenched fists sitting atop the armrests of his chair wasn’t enough of an indication that he was taking in your every word.

“Another time, there was a foster brother. I was thirteen, and he was a lot older than me. He used to sneak into my room at night to watch me sleep. I tried to pretend like I never noticed him, hoping he’d get bored and stop. But I could tell that he wouldn’t. Something inside me told me that I had to make him stop. So I told him to, and he did.”

You swallowed thickly after that one, and decided that was enough sharing for now.

“I couldn’t ever do this thing consistently. My attempts failed more often than not. That day, when we first met, I had been able to do it with Gurn to get me and the child out of that cage. But today, when I was listening to that woman, I could just tell she was lying. She hadn’t bought the comlinks. She’d stolen them, and was disappointed when she realized they were broken. She was trying to cheat us like she had been cheated.”

“How could you tell all that?” Din asked, speaking for the first time since being back on the Crest.

“I-I think that’s part of the ability. I’d never realized it before, but every time I have successfully influenced someone’s thoughts, I had been able to sort of discern what they were thinking. With the foster mom, it was her desire to help me, and her fear of getting caught. With Gurn, I could tell he was intrigued by my plan to escape, always eager to hunt me down. It was like a game to him. And then with this merchant, I could just sense that she was lying, and that she thought we were made of money because of your armor.”

“So… you can read minds then?” Din asked hesitantly, but you shook your head, scrunching up your nose.

“I think that’s a strong way of putting it. It’s more like these people had unguarded, weak minds. They were more susceptible to being influenced, to me sensing what they were thinking. But it’s always been a strain. It’s not like I can sit here and hear what you’re thinking, and I hope you know that I have no desire to influence you in any way.” 

With that said, you finally met his eyes again.

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, mulling over your words. “Do you think the kid can do these things too?” You shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know I could throw people across rooms until it happened. If I can do more than I originally thought, then… it’s possible he can do more as well.”

The two of you fell quiet then, and Din continued to watch you. As much as your explanation had sent his mind into a tailspin, watching you work was… calming. It didn’t matter if it was something like this, maintaining the ship, or playing with and caring for the kid, something about the way you did things was soothing. He couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it, but the moment he saw that focus in your eyes, and could imagine the gears turning in your brain, he felt like he could relax for once. Your presence alone took some of the pressure off, easing the constant tension he felt even before taking on the kid and crossing the Guild. He wasn’t alone in this anymore.

That’s what having a partner was for, wasn’t it? To share some of those burdens, and work through them together? Well, one of those problems the two of you would have to face together was the kid and his powers.

Technically, the child was older than you, but for whatever species he was, he was only a baby, already out there lifting mudhorns with his mind. Din knew he would have to start finding answers soon, for both you and the child, but the two of you agreed that he was comparatively more powerful. Din would need to fully understand what he was capable of in the future if he was going to continue watching over him.

Another burden being tackled together in your partnership was your past. He remembered thinking weeks and weeks ago that he wasn’t the person you should be untangling your story with, that he didn’t want to be. Now, he couldn’t imagine not being that person. It was a slow process. You were always so hesitant to let even the smallest details leak, and quick to regret allowing those leaks to happen. But you still managed to keep from bottling everything, and never once took back your words once you’d said them.

It made Din wonder if he could tell you about the things that he’s done, the things that gave him nightmares.

“Okay!” you suddenly exclaimed, causing Din to jump out of his thoughts. He tumbled back into the present to see you clicking the plastic around the wires shut before holding out one of the earpieces for him to take.

“I think they’re good to go. Time to test these babies out!"

Din suddenly realized something as he took the earpiece, and kicked himself for not thinking about it sooner.

“I’m going to have to take my helmet off.” You only nodded, as if, unlike him, you’d already thought of this.

“Yes, but for the test, I’m gonna head to the back of the ship, so we can’t hear each other except for in these. I won’t see a thing.”

You held yours up to show him the three buttons on the outside of them.

“This one turns yours on and off. This middle button is to mute yourself, and this bottom button is to mute me,” you explained. Another stupid thought crossed his mind. How had he originally thought that this was a good idea?

“How am I supposed to mess with the buttons with my helmet on?” Again, it seemed you had already thought about this. You smiled.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea for that. Let’s just make sure they work first.”

A few moments later, when he was sure you were at the back of the hull, he slipped off his helmet. Cool air touched his cheeks and he sucked in a lungful of fresh, unfiltered air. Ever since he swore the Creed and donned the helmet, in these moments, he could never decide if he was relieved to have the thing off, or panicked until he put it back on. But that was a nearly lifelong struggle he could deal with another time. For now, he tucked the comlink into his ear, and pressed the top button to turn it on as you instructed.

“Din?” your soft voice said over a current of static. That thing in Din’s chest lurched again, and he really wished it would stop.

“Sounds like they work,” he replied, about to pull the helmet back over his head.

“Yes!” you whooped in victory, and his lips tugged upwards at the sound.

“Alright,” you continued. “We should test the mute buttons, so don’t put your helmet back on just yet.”

He agreed and asked you what you wanted him to do. The two of you each tested muting yourselves, and then each other, finding that everything seemed to be in working order. You warned him you were coming back towards the cockpit, so he pulled the earpiece out and put his helmet back on. Within seconds you called up to him from the bottom of the ladder and he walked over to peer down at your beaming face.

“What was that idea of yours, then?” he asked, and your smile turned sheepish.

“Well, you’ll have to trust me for this part.” His shoulders bunched.

“Why?”

“I’m almost completely certain I can make it so you can control the earpiece from your vambrace. However, I’ll have to wirelessly connect it to the tech in your helmet.”

That fluttering in his chest from earlier evolved into a complete jolt of panic, but he quickly stifled it. Din did trust you. He was going to have to start showing it. He nodded his consent.

You asked him to drop down a couple of the tools you would need, including the earpiece, then you promptly turned away from him and closed your eyes. You lifted your hands above your head and waited, until you felt the cold weight of his helmet settle into your hands.

If he thought his heart was racing, he had no idea that yours was about to come crashing out of your chest. You knew the severity of what you had asked him. He’d told you about the Creed, what it meant to wear the armor, and why it was so important to keep himself masked from any other living being. So you knew very well the faith he was putting in you as he passed down his helmet, standing maskless above you. You were not going to betray that trust.

“Go ahead and stay up there for now,” you instructed. “I’m going to sit here in case I need you to toss me down any other tools.”

And so you sat, keeping your eyes closed until your back was leaning against the ladder. This way, you’d very deliberately have to crane your neck back in order to look up into the cockpit. When you opened your eyes, you glanced down at the helmet sitting gingerly in your lap. It was kind of odd, seeing the helmet without the rest of Din attached to it. 

You shook your head at the thought and flipped the helmet over, taking a look at the inside. You went to work trying to find something to make a wireless connection. You knew there had to be one, because you had seen him use his vambrace to control what he saw through the helmet. You resisted the urge to pump your fist in the air when you found it, and then rolled your eyes when you heard a slight clinking above you as Din shifted his weight.

“If you keep hovering like that, I might accidentally look up and see you,” you teased.

“I’m just making sure you don’t break anything.”

You froze, fingers stilling inside his helmet. You had just heard his voice… his real, unaltered voice, completely free of the modulator and the brief static of the earpiece. It was deep, warm, and reposeful. Those butterflies came to life once again, and heat not only touched your cheeks, but pooled in your belly. The most surprising of your reactions, though? Your eyes started to sting, tears threatening. 

“What’s wrong,” Din asked, noticing you had stopped working. You sucked in a quiet, ragged breath, blinked rapidly against the brimming tears, and shoved all those crazy emotions back, back, back. You could think about them later, but not in front of him. 

“Is umm,” you quickly tried to think of something that might have made you pause, and would possibly explain the slight quiver in your voice. “Is this allowed? I just realized- i-it’s not forbidden for someone to tamper with your armor, is it?”

Nice save.

You couldn’t see it, but you could tell when he had shrugged his shoulders. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Oh gods. You were so desperately torn. You wanted him to keep speaking, keep talking to you forever and ever, so you could just melt into the sound of his voice. But you also wanted him to shut up until the helmet was back on, because his voice was making you feel things, and it was so distracting, and-

“I’m sure it’s fine, Y/N,” he said slowly, still wondering why you were hesitating.

“R-right,” you quickly said, getting back to the task at hand. Internally though, after hearing him say your name-

Gods, I am so fucked. 

You worked for a couple more minutes, trying to calm yourself down, when he spoke again. 

“Kid’s awake.” You quickly glanced over and saw that the child had waddled up to you, wide eyes fixed on Din’s helmet. You smiled at him, but then noticed his puckered brow bone. He reached a stubby hand out, touching the helmet… and then his lower lip started trembling. 

“Oh no!” you exclaimed, dropping the helmet in your lap and lifting the kid to cradle him against your chest. 

“What is it?” Din asked, concern touching his tone. The child looked even more upset, hearing Din’s voice while continuing to stare at the helmet. 

“I think he thinks you’ve been decapitated,” you said, trying so, so hard to keep the panicked giggles out of your voice. The child’s reaction at seeing his Mando without a body was so cute, so heartbreaking, you weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

“It’s okay, little guy, he’s safe. He’s up there, but you can’t look just yet,” you explained, pointing up at the cockpit. You heard Din step back as the child looked up, and you made quick work to finish connecting the comlink while Din spoke soothingly to the child. The sound calmed you too, allowing you to move beyond your previous feelings while you finished. 

When all was said and done, you covered both your eyes and the child’s while Din climbed down the ladder. He let you know when he had the helmet back on, then sat next to you, stealing the child from your lap as he instantly reached for his Mando. 

You watched them for a moment.

These two are going to be the death of me, you thought. 

“Are you going to keep your earpiece on all the time?” he asked, pulling you from your happy thoughts. You nodded. 

“Yeah, I think so. But don’t worry, I’ll mute myself if we’re in the same space, or if I’m annoying you with my constant blathering,” you laughed. Din shook his head, though. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said thoughtfully, eyes still on the child. “I don’t mind the blathering. In fact, I find a kind of solace... in the sound of your voice.”

Your eyes widened, and your cheeks lit up once again. 

Yeah, I am definitely fucked.

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[cecilspeaks]

168 - Secret Blotter

Life is 10 per cent what happens to you And 90 per cent false memories of what you think happened to you. Welcome to Night Vale.

In an effort to bring more transparency to the Sheriff’s Secret Police, a chronicle of one night’s dispatches will be released to the public. This action comes at the behest of the City Council, who voted unanimously on a resolution to ban plastic bags.

Now, OK, while those two things may not seem related, Sheriff Sam misunderstood the vote as a rallying cry against tyrannical surveillance and a personal threat, involving being thrown to the pit of vipers behind the bowling alley. Sheriff Sam, who has a paralyzing fear of vipers, proposed a compromise in which Secret Police dispatches would be temporarily divulged, so the public can get a better idea of what agency does and how tax dollars are being spent. A plan which was readily accepted by the Council, though they continued to roll their eyes and gnash their teeth and chant softly: [creepy voice] “Viper pit! Viper pit! Blessed be the viper pit!” Which is just how they express a “yay” vote on procedural issues.

As a result, Night Vale has its first ever police blotter. Let’s dig in. 9 o’clock PM. Missing person reported inside the Ralphs. Night manager on duty says employee went to stock some cases of Lime-A-Ritas in the new walk-in beer cave and never came out. Reporting officer thoroughly checked beer cave and confirmed it was deserted. Three cases of the beverage were left haphazardly in the middle of the floor, and a loading dolly had tipped over onto its side. Manager states employee originally brought in four cases. Manager added one missing case of Lime-A-Ritas to the report. When asked if this kind of thing has happened before, manager changed subject and asked if officer would like to look at some of the children’s drawing contest submissions. Officer was amenable to this request.

9:16 PM. Noise complaint. Dog barking in an unknown language annoying residents. Dirty white fur, human face. Gone when officer arrived on scene.

9:25 PM. Two underage residents attempted to sneak into an R-rated movie by pretending to be one tall person in a trench coat. When confronted by officer, they turned into a swarm of flies and dispersed.

10:01 PM. Noise complaint. A sound resembling television static was being emitted from a shower drain out in the Hefty Sycamore trailer park. When recorded and played backwards, it turned out to be a broadcast from a 1952 episode of the game show “Beat the Clock”, where contestants competed to see how many pieces they could smash a clock into. A plumber was called.

10:15 PM. A resident of Desert Creek searched for “easy tortellini recipes”, but none of them were easy enough. It was so late already, and they needed to get to bed soon, but they were also very hungry and needed to eat dinner first. They wanted something quick, but they also wanted a real dinner, not a false dinner like… cereal? They became hyperaware that the more they deliberated on what to make, the longer it was all taking. And factoring in the decision-making time on top of the meal prep time was becoming additionally stressful in relation to the desire to get to bed soon.

11:30 PM. A Coyote Corner’s swimming pool filled with blood and began swirling furiously in a counter-clockwise direction. Home owner appeared distressed. Officer advised home owner to drain pool.

11:31 PM. Multiple residents awoke in a cold sweat from the same dream. It wasn’t necessarily a nightmare, but it was definitely not pleasant. The only thing they could recall afterwards was that it was showing, and that there was a tree with seven limbs.

12:00 AM. Witches.

2:00 AM. That time of night when everything starts getting hazy. Were you headed to a crime? Checking a surveillance station? Listening to a wiretap? Going home? Returning to headquarters? Signalling an invisible helicopter? Sometimes you lose track. An old local legend comes into your mind, and you try to recall the details. It’s been so long since you heard it. You watch the headlights bounce along the dirt road ahead, and your eyes begin to play tricks on you, sensing movement in the dark margins where the light doesn’t penetrate. You turn off the lights and slow the vehicle. They weren’t tricks after all. There is movement here, a dark writhing mass entering the roadway. You are forced to stop the car. Eyes flesh open in the dark. Many sets of eyes. This isn’t part of a half-remembered legend. This is something very, very real.

More of the blotter soon. But first, let’s have a look at traffic. You’re hunting in a pack near the Old Highway. The smell of blood is in the air. Headlights bounce over the rise and your stomachs rumble. The moon flees behind the clouds and you fan out, along both sides of the road, moving parallel to it like a lazy river. The car approaches and slows. It shuts off its headlights, as you knew it would. Some of you push ahead to the car, blocking its path. Others move to the rear and others remain at the sides boxing it in. You converge, surrounding it more tightly the door opens, then closes again, the fleshy creature inside cursing softly. You hear a crackle of radio static, but you know it is inconsequential to you. You consume the metal shell first. There are explosions of air and the hiss of leaking fluids. Then the glass, crunchy and cool in your collective gullet. And finally, the screaming delicacy in the center, the cloth-wrapped package of meat and bone. There are other things afterward, less enjoyable, but consumable nonetheless. Papers and electronics, and the pleather, and cold French fries in the back. Nothing must remain. By the time the moon emerges from the clouds, the old highway will be deserted once more. This has been traffic.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by TickTock. The only app that tells you exactly how long you have left to live. The sleek countdown display synchs easily with all of your devices, so that you can check your mortality at a glance. The premium edition provides additional details, such as manner and location of death, and updates to the minute, as you make different choices throughout your day. You’ll find yourself asking questions like, why did returning a library book just subtract 4 years from my life? How did leaving late for work change my final outcome from drowning in gulch to birds of prey? Why does it say “tomorrow” all of a sudden? [panicking] It must be some kind of glitch, right? OK, OK, I’ve updated the app but it still hasn’t changed. It still says “tomorrow”. I just got checked out by a doctor and they said I’m in great shape, I’m staying home from work, I’m not answering the door, I’ve closed the blinds and I’m sitting on the couch, surrounded by pillows, not moving, not even blinking, I’ve done everything dammit, EVERYTHING!!! WHY DOES IT STILL SAY “TOMORROW”???!! Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. This has been a word from our sponsors.

Back to the Sheriff’s Secret Police blotter. 2:30 AM. Responded to an officer distress call on the Old Highway. No sign of officer or vehicle found. Must have been a false alarm.

3:15 AM. Nude man ranting in middle of old highway, carrying a case of alcoholic beverages. Identified as the night shift stocker at the Ralphs. Claims he entered the walk-in refrigerator at work, reached up to place the case of beverages on the shelf, and abruptly found himself in a network of ice caves. He eventually climbed up a snowy mountain where he met a robed figure he refers to as “The Oracle”. “The Oracle” foretold of a hungry darkness with a thousand eyes and urged that the portal must be cloooosed. The Ralphs employee also reported that “The Oracle” had slurred speech and seemed unsteady on its feet, and may have been inebriated. After this exchange, he then found himself standing in the Sand Wastes nude. He does not know where his clothes are. Officer escorted man back to the Ralphs to finish out his shift.

3:35 AM. Domestic disturbance. “He won’t stop practicing the flute!” a Cactus Bloom resident reported, indicating his dopplegänger who stood in the corner of the bedroom, staring unblinkingly at the wall and playing the same halting scale on a wooden flute. Officer advised resident to take a melatonin and try to get some sleep. “If he doesn’t stop, I can’t be held responsible!” the sleep-deprived resident threatened. “Sounds fair,” the officer agreed and left the premises.

4:00 AM. An alarm clock went off in Old Town. A woman attempted to get out of bed, but her cat walked sleepily onto her person and began purring, preventing her from rising. Her cat is elderly and the woman knows its number of purrs are finite and must be honored. Eventually, she put on coffee and took a shower. She used Herbal Solution shampoo for a lifelong dandruff condition, though she has not seen any improvement after years of using the products. She continues using it, because she likes the way it smells. It smells medicinal, like it’s helping, and it does tingle, like the label promises. The tingle means it’s working, the label says. So it must be working.

And now a break form the police blotter for some sports news. Night Vale High School – go Scorpions! – has added a concession stand to be used during sporting events. The parent-teacher association proudly unveiled the new stand at last week’s baseball game, dedicating the plywood structure to the memory of favorite AP auto shop teacher, Nick Teller. Teller reacted with confusion at this news, as he is still alive. “Oh, of co-, no, of course you are,” the PTA responded awkwardly, “but we just wanted to honor – your memory, as in what a great memory you have. You-you know how you’re really good at remembering stuff? We just wanted to, yeah uh, honor that,” the PTA went on, seemingly unable to stop explaining themselves, whilst standing in front of the dedication plaque, which featured several doves, a Celtic cross, and an image of clasped hands. Teller admitted he does have an excellent memory and is very honored. The following concessions are available at the Teller memorial stand: Special allowances, the granting of rights, the acceptance of certain things as truth, the yielding of certain other things as untruth. Also, RC Cola and popcorn.

Oh, which reminds me, we actually have another word from our sponsor, Royal Crown Cola. Invented by Ferdinand the 1st, king of Naples, who built a museum of mummies inside his palace to house the bodies of his slain enemies. “I am parched from building this museum of mummies,” he famously said, and the rest is history. RC Cola – the drink of ruthless monarchs.

In local news, I have the results of the Ralphs drawing contest. Local school children were encouraged to submit a drawing to the store this week, depicting their favorite Ralphs product. I’ll start with the runners up. The third place drawing comes to us from Ella Snider, a student from Night Vale Elementary, and it shows a large black scribbled mass with a lot of eyes on it, with the Ralphs building on fire in the background. Very creative, Ella!

The second place drawing comes from Jace McCoy, also from Night Vale Elementary, and this one also shows a black mass with many eyes and a big bright red splatter of blood across the page. Nice use of color, Jace!

And the grand price winner comes to us from Heather (Fathusam) [0:16:52] of Daggers Plunge Charter School. Her drawing features a beautiful black mass with lots of lovely eyes, and it’s holding a box of store brand frozen pizza rolls. Congratulations, Heather!

Back to the blotter. 4:01 AM. Distress call from the Ralphs. Upon arrival, officer was pulled into the manager’s office. The employee from the earlier incident was also present, huddled under a desk. Manager frantically indicated the surveillance window that looks out into the store, which he normally uses to spy on shoppers and report on what they are wearing for his Customer Fashion newsletter. Shelves of products were being knocked over and consumed by a vast dark nothingness. The back of the store then burst into flames. The manager implored the officer to quote, “Do something, please, or we’ll all be killed!” Officer used the intercom system to tell the nothingness to vacate the store immediately, and advised it of trespass and vandalism laws. The nothingness took the form of many dark shapes with many eyes. A tank of fresh seafood exploded and numerous shellfish were damaged. Officer advised the shapes that they were all under arrest. “Stop talking to it!” the manager cried and knocked the intercom mic out of the officer’s hand. Approximately 1000 eyes turned to look at the office window. Interesting. Well.

Let’s have a look at that weather.

[“Best Friends” by Curtains: https://curtains.bandcamp.com/]

4:35 AM. Situation escalated at the Ralphs. Officer, manager and employee embraced one another under the office desk amid the shattered glass of the surveillance window. The building trembled around them, products flew through the air, half the inventory was sucked into oblivion, and a great fire blazed, spreading to the bakery section. After doing an estimated 200,000 dollars worth of damage, the darkness and its many eyes entered the beer cave and did not come back out. Officer investigated the beer cave and found it to be empty. “You have to shut down the cave!” the Ralphs employee implored the manager. “That’s its doorway to our world!” The manager hedged and responded that a big heat wave was coming and if they hoped to recoup any of their losses, keeping the beer cave open was going to be instrumental to the store’s survival. “People will spend big on frosty cold beverages,” the manager responded. “Not to mention they’re gonna like standing around in there for a nice cool-down.” The employee wrapped his robe tightly around himself. Oh, the manager had lent him the robe, one of the many fashion items the manager kept in his collection, since the employee still didn’t know where his clothes had gone. “OK,” the employee said. He picked up a Lime-A-Rita and guzzled it down in one continuous gulp. Then he said, his voice already a little slurred: “I’ll have to try to shhhhtop it myself.” He ran into the beer cave and promptly vanished.

5:40 AM. Tree with seven limbs seen growing out of a hole in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. Snow observed on the branches, which melted off quickly as the sun rose.

5:45 AM. Real pretty sunrise.

Well, that concludes our Secret Police blotter. I dunno about the rest of you, but I personally feel a lot more safe and secure getting a closer look at what our Secret Police do. On behalf of Night Vale Community Radio, thank you for your service. I’m sure we will all rest a lot easier knowing that our fate is in your hands. Our sleeping bodies are under your watchful eye, and our every thought and action is being monitored for the greater good. As Secret Police mascot Barks Ennui always says: Stay tuned, stay, vigilant, report your neighbors. Woof. Woof.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Six out of seven dentists have no idea where that seventh one disappeared to. Honest, they all have rock solid alibis and that blood could have belonged to anyone.

[creative-frequency]

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 04

Word count: 3849 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: There is a time and place for pining but first you need to save the Wookiees. Partial canon-rewrite. Pining, probably. Notes: This is a long chapter but I hope it makes up for the wait! Also lmk if you’d like to be tagged or not. Also sorry if I forgot to tag someone.

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 04

Your heart wrenches in the most distressing way.

Listening to Saw Gerrera explain what is going on; the Wookiees enslaved, the planet being harvested and destroyed by the Empire… There has to be a way you can help.

On Zeffo Cal found out that the next step of Cordova’s path lies on Kashyyyk, so that’s where you headed next. After a brash jump from the flying Mantis, hijacking a walker and helping the rebels and Gerrera’s Partisans to clear the area, anyone could settle for enough adventure. But Cal still wants to help.

And so do you.

“Wooaaah, wait a minute, hold on, wait a minute.” Greez motions everyone to stop speaking. He is not too convinced it’s a good idea to participate in some freedom fighting. “The Mantis works wonders, I mean it’s a great ship, excellent pilot, but…”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“It is not built for close support,” he ends decisively.

“We’ll stay here and monitor Imperial transmissions,” Cere calms him, “With a bit of luck we’ll intercept any distress calls.”

“’Preciate it,” Saw nods and turns to Cal: “My lieutenants and I will scout ahead to prepare the attack. Join us when you’re ready.”

As Saw leaves with most of his troops, Cal turns to look at the rest of your crew. His expression is filled with determination, defiance even. Nothing is going to stop him and he is daring you to try.

“You hair is still wet,” you quip. You notice the curve of your lips is a tad too relieved and Cal is absurdly good at pulling off the wet poncho look.

The mood has been slightly… careful between you since the necklace episode. You regret ever letting it happen since now you’re hyperaware of Cal’s presence at all times and weigh the meaning behind every look. It’s an unexpected but not unwelcome pastime, and you shouldn’t consider him in that way but you just do. Cal, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be effect by those same troubles at all. It’s frustrating because you feel like you’re losing in your own game, which is not supposed to be a game but somehow it still is.

Urgh.

“It’s good to see you too,” Cal says and chuckles. “Glad you’re alright.”

“This place is a dump,” Greez mutters and glowers at the overgrown nature around the landing zone. It must be horrible for him.

“Your plan worked. And now you want to follow Saw?” Cere asks cautiously and folds her arms on her chest, not entirely approving of her young mentee’s intentions.

“What do you think of his plan?” Cal returns.

“He might win this fight with our help, but in the long run… I don’t know,” you say in thought. You sigh and look around the destroyed forest. The smell of smoke and burning metal prickles in your nostrils. You’re starting to get desperate for fresh or even filtered air.

“I doubt the freedom for the Wookiees is his only goal,” Cere adds in a hushed tone.

“He seems trustworthy,” Cal shrugs.

“He might prove to be, but there’s more going on here than we know,” Cere reminds him. Cal nods.

“And don’t forget the Empire fights dirty. Watch your tail in that refinery, kid,” Greez says. Is that a hint of worry you detect?

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Wait. I’m coming with you,” you say on the spur of the moment before Cal can turn to leave. There’s no way you’re sitting on your hands inside the Mantis while Cal tumbles head on into danger to save the Wookiees.

The crew pauses to stare at you.

“They’ll need all the help they can get,” you explain, “I’ll go grab my gear, hold on a minute.”

Cal doesn’t know what to say. Cere holds a sigh and Greez shakes his head. “I knew this was gonna happen one day,” he mumbles.

“Does she…” Cal starts but finds it difficult to finish the question. The last thing he wants is to doubt your competence, but he would blame himself if anything were to happen to you out there.

“She can take care of herself, I’ll admit that. You need to focus on your part, Cal,” Cere assures.

“Right.” The young Jedi still looks bemused but swallows the rest of the questions.

The two electroswords, both miraculously fixed by Cal, are waiting to get back to what they were created for. Such flashy weapons haven’t been your strong suit before but it’ll be interesting to try them. As you grab and attach them to you belt along with a blaster and its holster, an ambiguous feeling grows inside you. The decision to go with Cal wasn’t made as impulsively as you even yourself initially thought. Spending time with Cere and Cal must be affecting your sense of justice and will to act. Goddamn Jedi.

Who could’ve guessed someone with your messy past would become a freedom fighter? Definitely not you.

You silence the nagging voice whispering that you’re only doing this to impress a certain person who makes your heart race. Is this really something you’d normally do just to get back to the top of things aka your feelings? You refuse to believe that. But anyone who knew you before you met Cere, would disagree and tell you this is exactly how you always respond. They would tell you this is what you do best. You’re always the one in control and won’t lose without a fight to the death.

You inhale and puff out the air in a long sigh. The door of the Mantis swings open and the smoke-filled air hits your face again. It makes your eyes water.

You tap the blaster holster on your side. “Let’s not keep Saw waiting.”

Cere gives your posture a cursory look but settles for nodding. Greez’s eyes are wide and you realize he hasn’t seen you carrying a weapon before. Just because it wasn’t in plain sight, it doesn’t mean you’d enter shady cantinas unarmed. Greez’s expression is filled with doubt and fearful respect.

“Alright.” Cal sounds wary but decides to trust Cere’s judgment.

“Be careful out there. Both of you. Coming back in one piece is still part of the plan, right?” Cere throws dryly and fights a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll bump it up on the priority list!” Cal grimaces as if he had already forgotten and you roll your eyes. “C’mon, BD!”

Greez hmphs and paces up the Mantis’ ramp, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Cere follows him as you and Cal leave the landing zone. With hasty steps, you head to the direction of the sap refinery.

“So what do you know about the Partisans?” Cal asks in a low voice as you pass a few.

“Just rumors. They’ve got bounties on their heads. Preeetty pile of credits is resting between those shoulders.” Your eyes dart around the freedom fighters in the area and, honestly, they don’t look like much. Just normal people, but apparently they do know which end of the blaster goes where.

Cal looks at you dubiously, pondering whether to ask why you would know such a detail.

“That way, right?” You nod forward.

“Saw is up ahead,” one of the Partisans kindly offers directions towards a narrow clearing that leads to the refinery.

The path is anything but straight; filled with cut-down jungle to make way for elevator tracks from the landing zone to the sap refinery. The comfort of an elevator is nowhere to be seen so you’ll have to get your boots dirty. The swarm of flame beetles buzzing near the tree line is likely the least of what you’ll encounter further in. The short electroswords feel reassuring against your thighs. You grip the blaster handle and draw in a long breath, inconspicuously. It’s been some time since you had to fight anyone.

“Are you okay?” Cal asks and visibly fights himself to not urge you to return. Of course he would notice you psyching yourself up.

“Yeah. Let’s go!” you say. You jump down a ledge before he can say another word and Cal follows you after a beat.

The thought of trudging the jungle floor dirt turns out to be more intolerable than actually treading it with Cal. He is helpful and considerate even in the stressful and pressing situation. The list of things you wouldn’t have fun doing with him is likely as short as a rancor’s patience. And that’s another train of thought you need to crash before it reaches a finish line.

You’re jumping over endless pits, balancing over fallen tree trunks (Cal holds your hand, just in case) and finally climbing up a ramp to reach Saw Gerrera. You’re a tad out of breath when Cal reaches a hand out and pulls you up. He can certainly keep up the pace and you realize you’re dangerously starting to fall out of shape. Greez’s cooking is to blame.

“Still okay?” Cal smiles and holds you for a moment too long. His free hand falls onto your shoulder.

“Thanks. All good,” you huff and try to reach a responsive smile. Cal squeezes your shoulder in his frustratingly casual manner and you remember his touch on your neck while you should be focusing on the life or death mission ahead.

Saw Gerrera and his lieutenants are in position and you crouch to talk with them. Saw gives you an examining look before turning his attention to Cal. “Imperial sap refinery lies dead ahead.”

“What does the Empire want with tree sap?” Cal wonders and looks at the target building through the binoculars.

“Nothing good,” Saw replies.

As he starts explaining the situation and the plan, BD-1 makes a holoprojection of the area. Saw’s troops will create a distraction while Cal uses his lightsaber to rescue the enslaved Wookiees. He makes it sound so simple.

“Creating a distraction, huh? Sounds like you could use every blaster you can get,” you mark to Saw and he nods gravely.

Cal quickly turns to look at you, about to say something.

“I’m going with them,” you hurry to interrupt him.

His mouth closes, an abrupt frown flashes before it’s replaced with badly concealed worry. He knows it’s the best call in the situation.

“Beep?” BD-1 tilts his head.

“Alright. Be careful out there,” Cal says, nodding.

“You too.” You hold eye contact for a moment, but at the same time wonder what that look on his face means.

Cal and BD get on their way down when you follow the Partisans to the main entrance. Saw was right about the Imperial troopers having spread themselves too thin. The amount of resistance you face is almost ridiculous in the face of the battle-hardened Partisans. Saw Gerrera fits out to be the fiercest of them, making you wonder how far he is capable of going. The precision and rage he fights with is unmatched and sparks inspiration in his troops. You no longer wonder why they’re considered radicals by the Empire.

After the first battle, Saw asks you to play it safe in a passing comment. You don’t want to overthink his request or what he believes is between you and Cal, so you continue shooting at the Stormtroopers. The Partisans are counting their marks and the notion makes you feel uneasy. You try not to listen to their banter.

After the third earth-shaking explosion, Cal can no longer resist the urge to ask how you’re doing. Your wrist comm buzzes.

“Doing okay there?” The transmission catches a lot of background noise and it sounds like someone isn’t playing it safe.

You roll to take cover behind a ledge just when a blaster bolt flies over your head. One of the Partisans fighting next to you gets the Stormtrooper.

“A little busy… Don’t you have a job to do?” you huff into the comm device.

Cal chuckles. “I’m almost to the prison now. Just wanted to make sure you’re still safe.”

Safe is a very relative term in the situation you’re in but your stomach makes a jolt and you bite your lip. Can he not do this when you need to stay focused to avoid getting shot? Also, you’re fairly certain Cere can hear you exchange.

“You’re sweet to worry about me, but there’s really no need, Cal.”

A pause.

“Right. Sorry, I–”

“At least you both are still alive in there,” Cere joins up the conversation. “Imperial distress calls are going out across the planet. If you don’t get the prisoners soon…”

“We can do this. I promise,” Cal says decisively.

“See you when you’ve released the Wookiees, Cal,” you say and wait for the comm to snap but it stays silent.

A few moments later a small batch of Wookiees joins the fight, but your distraction group finds itself trapped behind a jammed door in a passageway filled with deadly blaster bolts. The rest of the prisons ahead are still closed and the Stormtroopers are gathering reinforcements. The situation is quickly going from dire to desperate.

“Hold on, we’re gonna get you out of there!” Cal’s voice cracks through your wrist comm.

He is on the other side of the wall, getting closer to the control room. You can just barely see flashes of his blue lightsaber through the fire and smoke. He is fighting and you can’t help the bloat of worry that suddenly rises up your throat. No matter that you’re in a life or death situation yourself.

The Wookiee cell doors suddenly blast open and roars fill the air.

“You’ve done it!” Saw yells. “The Wookiees are free! Get to the roof!”

Cal is on the other side of the glass of the control room, seemingly unharmed. He makes a small wave at you and BD stretches up to look over his head. You form them a thank you on your lips and dart after the Partisans.

By the time Cal gets to the roof, all hell is on the loose. Stormtroopers carrying flamethrowers get up close and personal with the freedom fighters. They get support fire from the upper roof, so you have to stay behind a cover but not moving means the flames will reach you any moment. Unless you deal with the blaster bolts first, you won’t have a chance. Something about the fire and the frying pan crosses your mind.

You yell at the couple nearest Partisans to focus on the enemies firing from up and take out your electroswords. They whirr to life and electric blue cracks around both rods. The handles feel familiar but weird in your hands. It’s been a while. You suppress the disabling feeling of the adrenaline and look for an opening.

When the Flame trooper retreats to reload, you close in.

Cal is running towards the same enemy, but it’s clear that you’ll reach the target first. He barely breaths and time slows as he watches you narrowly slide underneath the angry blaze and make a slicing motion at the trooper’s knees. The shower of flames turns towards the sky when the trooper starts falling and ends abruptly when the electrosword in your right hand slashes again across his chest. It’s over so fast that your brain catches up to speed when the trooper is already lying on the ground.

Cal changes his direction and leaps onto the next Flame trooper, mind void of anything but the ongoing fight and the simple thought that he was a fool to be worried about you. You’re clearly no stranger to a melee weapon.

The area is almost cleared when Imperial support arrives.

“Cal, look!” you scream and point into the air.

Cal is just finishing the last Flame trooper. He brutally kicks the enemy down and drives his lightsaber through the armor’s chest piece. He looks up, mouth hanging open in surprise.

An AT-ST walker lands with a loud thump.

“Jedi! We don’t have the firepower to breach its hull!” Saw yells. He is fighting on the upper roof which is almost cleared out of enemy troopers. The handful of the Partisans left standing, and the freed Wookiees, look for cover. Normal blaster bolts won’t make even a dent on the walker.

“We’re on it!” Cal shouts.

“Be-beep!” BD-1 confirms and tightens his grip of Cal’s back.

Cal searches and catches your gaze but doesn’t need to tell you to stay back. Your feet are already pointed at the poor shelter the nearby doorway offers. You’re going to sit this one out and focus on the rest of the troopers on rooftops so the Jedi can handle the walker.

The AT-ST sows grenades to where Cal stood just seconds ago. His lightsaber cuts red, molten streaks on the robotic legs, breaching closer to the inevitable moment when the walker will topple down. He manages to land an attack after another – all the while parrying incoming blaster fire and dodging disabling electric fields and grenade drops.

With the weapon in hand, Cal is like another person. Brutal, efficient. You’ve seen enough to fully appreciate his legwork and fluid movements in close combat. He is both raw and calculated in his attacks and you wish the troopers were gone already so you could just fully commit to staring.

You’ve never seen a Jedi fight before. Actually, you’ve never even met a Jedi before. The stories that are whispered around the galaxy do no justice to seeing the real deal hand out blows. It makes you wonder.

Cal doesn’t waste time in getting rid of the walker and the fight is over before the Partisans have the chance to watch.

Loud cheers erupt in the air. Everyone crowds around the Jedi and suddenly you feel abashed at approaching him – the new hero of the cause. Your steps heading towards Cal slow down. Saw Gerrera gets up on a platform to hold an inspirational speech:

“Everyone! These have been hard years. We’ve lost comrades, friends, family… to the Empire.” He pauses. “Dark times. And yet the fire… still burns. Hope… still burns. The Jedi are not yet lost.”

All eyes turn to Cal. Saw knows how tight the situation was. If it wasn’t for Cal, none of you would be there alive.

“We are not yet lost. Kashyyyk is not yet lost! For the cause!”

Everyone cheers. Cal looks confused but pleased from the attention. They pat his back and smile, most relieved, some awe-inspired. Words of thanks are said loud and clear. Two of the Partisans who fought beside you come to thank you for the help. You mumble that you didn’t do it to gather gratefulness.

You want to go to Cal but Saw reaches him first. They talk for a while next to the Partisans’ transport ship. Cal can feel your gaze on him and wants to wrap up the conversation quickly. Saw’s offer to join the fight is appreciated but Cal still has his own mission to finish. The mission of the Mantis crew. The mission you’re a part of.

He still hasn’t had the chance to check on you after the fight. If Saw notices how Cal’s attention keeps drawing to your presence, he says nothing. Cal is still too high on the adrenaline to care. He would take up another walker in an instant if it meant he could go and ask are you hurt. He feels an urgent need that pulls him towards you. He knows you’re alright but he needs to make sure with his own eyes, undisturbed.

While waiting for Cal to finish his conversation, you approach Mari Kosan and one of the freed Wookiees, Commander Choyyssyk.

The Wookiee Commander promises you something but you understand only a few things in Shyriiwook, which he kindly uses for clarity, so you have to look to Mari for translation. The things you would understand in Wookieespeak are very… rude in Galactic Basic: A lot of things concerning one’s ancestors and their defining traits.

“Choyyssyk says he’ll do whatever he can to find Tarfful and vouch for you,” Mari translates.

You nod gratefully. “Thank you. I’ll let Cal know.” You glance at the Jedi still exchanging words with Saw.

“Could take some time because they’re always on the move. We’ll be in touch with your ship,” Mari continues.

Choyyssyk agrees and that much you can understand. He apologizes and leaves to be with his comrades who were also imprisoned. Your heart goes out to the Wookiees. They’ve been through something you don’t think you could survive.

You’re just about to ask Mari what the Partisans will do now, when Cal calls your name and runs over to join you.

“You, you’re–” He struggles to find the words, looking rattled but happy.

“A rebel? I guess I am,” you crack to finish the sentence in case Cal is about to comment your fighting style. The less attention your backstabbing methods gain the better.

A rebel is not what Cal meant but the bloat of worry erupts into a fit of light laughter. He takes your hand from mid-air and squeezes it gently.

Your mouth forms an o. It’s hard to conceal your surprise and delight. Your hands lower down and for a moment you feel like you’re about to burst. From holding a guy’s hand. You.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Cal murmurs solemnly. He has that same look in his eyes as when you parted at the refinery entrance.

“You too, Cal. I’m glad you’re in one piece,” you reply in a hushed tone.

Mari clears her throat and awkwardly moves her weight from one foot to another. You pay her no mind but a hint of pink flushes right across Cal’s freckles.

“We should head back to the Mantis. Greez is probably freaking out,” he says and chuckles again. He lets go of you, leaving your fingers tingling pleasantly.

You huff, amused at the thought of Greez stuck in the middle of wild nature and agree: “Yes. Let’s.”

Cal turns to Mari and a look passes his face which hints that he didn’t realize she was standing with you and maybe he should’ve exercised more caution and self-control – though he doesn’t want to think about the reason why. So what if he is happy to see you survived unharmed? The uneasy feeling in his chest doesn’t agree.

“Thank you, both of you,” Mari says.

“You guys stay safe. Good luck out here,” Cal wishes.

“Will do. For the cause.” Mari raises her fist across her heart just like Saw Gerrera earlier.

Part of you hopes the elevator was still out of order since the journey back to the Mantis is way too short. Going out there to help the Wookiees with Cal was a good decision and you’re happy, but also feel an inkling; a stirring inside your chest that makes you nervous to be alone with him in the large elevator. You don’t talk. Only smile whenever your gazes cross and each time your heart makes a leap.

When the elevator stops, you’re fully aware of how much in trouble you are.

//

Next Chapter

Tagging: @sherniwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @sevansheart @owldearest @stellar-trinity @bd1babey @winchestergirl907 @thuutthuutbilly @rilakkyungsoo @lizbid33 @twistnet @fangirl-inthe-us @campmccarran @grandadmiral @droidrights @maulblr @la-vide @dej-okay

[aewriting]

I forget where I saw someone say that their Roswell NM OTP is every main character ​and a good therapist, ha (edited to add - it was @soberqueerinthewild, THANK YOU!) but it’s soooo true, and it got me thinking. Full disclosure - Malex is my end game. I hope they get it together. But once they do, they have so, so much trauma and hurt and issues between the two of them that to have a real, healthy relationship it would take a lot of work. And so this little fic was born.

Warning for relationship strife.

(Also edited to now include a "keep reading" option, which I had NO earthly idea how to put in last night on the tumblr mobile app, ha)

Here’s the AO3 link, if you prefer.

***

Michael stumbles out of the bedroom bleary-eyed, out of sorts.

Trepidatious.

The tension eases, slightly, when he smells the coffee, freshly ground.

He hasn’t left.

Not, not that he thinks he would, really, not that he has for years, now, but he can’t help it if that’s where his mind still goes.

Prosthetic’s not on, and he’s moving stiffly, with the crutches. Michael feels a pang of guilt, then anger. It’s Alex’s own damn fault, stubborn ass that he is. Wouldn’t sleep in the damn bed with Michael, and wouldn’t let Michael take the couch. So yeah, he’s probably feeling it this morning. Boo fucking hoo. Maybe next time he’ll just give in...

Michael should have never let him sleep on the couch.

Should have, could have locked him in the damn bedroom.

Michael knows he can hear him - Alex is always hyperaware of shit like that. He probably heard him the instant his feet hit the floor. So it’s frustrating as hell that he’s made no move to turn toward Michael yet, that there’s been no acknowledgement of his presence.

“Hey,” Michael finally says. Loud. Probably obnoxious. He’s wearing only his boxer briefs (nice ones, an Alex purchase last Christmas), and god dammit he’s gonna use that, knows it’s always been one of the best weapons he’s had against Alex and his moods. He ambles over to the kitchen, overly loose. Casual. Leans back, hands on the counter, body on display.

Alex finally eyes him, swallows hard. “Here,” he says, placing a mug of hot black coffee next to Michael’s hand.

The corner of Michael’s mouth quirks up, almost sly. “Thanks.”

“Mmm hmm,” Alex says. He’s still not looking at Michael, not really.

Michael makes a show out of blowing on the coffee, sipping it. He sniffs the air, frowns. “What am I smelling?”

“We had some bananas going bad. I made banana bread. It’s in the oven now.”

Michael’s frown deepens. “How long you been up?”

A shrug. “A while.”

And Michael can’t help it. “Guess the couch wasn’t too comfortable, then?” He sees the slight shake of Alex’s head, the eye roll. Then the guilt comes back, full force. “Look, I’m sorry. About last night. I should have texted.”

Alex is still just looking down at his own coffee cup, face tense.

Michael heaves a sigh and pushes himself off the counter. Approaches Alex from behind, finds him overly stiff when he finally touches him. “I’m sorry, okay? Real sorry.” Skims his hands down Alex’s arms, to his hips, his thighs. “Come to bed and I’ll show you just how sorry.”

And normally, that would do the trick. Alex would fix Michael with one of those dark, intense looks of his, or maybe roll his eyes, even - bite back a smile. The sex was always good like that, too - a little wild, dirty. An edge to it.

This morning, though, Alex exhales. Shrugs off Michael’s touch. “I...” he starts. Then, “No.”

Michael’s eyes widen and he stumbles back, chastened. Scared, honestly. Because in all the time they’ve lived together, he doesn’t think Alex has ever turned him down, not quite like this.

He suddenly feels overexposed, shrinks back. Alex is wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt. Michael wishes he would have pulled something on before coming out of the bedroom.

And he’s pragmatic. Cause he’s had to be. Already thinking about next steps, the Airstream. Isobel’s got a condo now, a nice one - same developer that did Kyle’s, though Isobel’s is nicer, of course... there’s no way her Homeowners Association is gonna let her shady brother park his shitty Airstream in the damn parking lot. He’s saved up some money, though, in these past few years, living with Alex. He’ll, he’ll have more options now than he did at 28, at 17.

He looks at Alex warily, watches him sit down heavily at their little kitchen table. He hangs his head, grips his coffee cup. “Are... are we fooling ourselves?”

“What?” Michael folds his arms in front of himself, like a barrier.

Alex isn’t looking him in the eye. “I just... All those years, when things didn’t work with us, it was so easy to blame all the other shit. The big, external things.”

And shit... this, this might really be it, Michael thinks. He, he’s been waiting for this - like, it was always kind of there in the back of his mind, but it... it maybe, really being here is something different. He tracks Alex’s every expression, every movement with wide-eyed alarm.

“My dad. DADT. Just, like, the military in general. You being,” he exhales shakily, “being an alien. Us seeing other people. And everything with Caulfield, Project Shepherd.”

Alex purses his lips. “But... but it’s just us now. And, and what if that’s the common denominator? Like, what if we’re the problem?” He’s shaking his head, looking stricken. “Dad’s dead, Project Shepherd’s shuttered...”

Michael leans his head back, sighs deeply. “What do you want, Alex? Just, what is this about?” Their eyes finally meet, briefly. “This is more than me forgetting to text.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Alex’s brow is furrowed. “It’s... it’s all the texts, that you’ve forgotten.” Michael open his mouth to protest, but Alex barrels forward. “And it’s all the times I’ve gotten mad about them. It’s the way we fight about stupid shit, like keeping the cabin clean, or what we should do on the weekends.” He bites his lip. “It’s all the times one of us has slept on the couch. All the times I’ve thought you were out with someone else. Someone easier, less complicated. All the times you’ve thought I was leaving.”

He’s rubbing at his neck. “Like, do we really think we can do this?”

Michael’s whole body feels tight, coiled. “Do you?”

Alex’s shoulders slump. “I... I don’t know, honestly.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters, looking away.

“And that’s not to do with you.”

“Bullshit it’s not,” Michael grits out. “Don’t give me this ‘it’s not you it’s me’ bullshit.” He shakes his head. “Not with me.”

“Fine,” Alex says. “But it’s both of us. Like, we’ve been through so much shit, Michael. So much. And the way we grew up...” Alex’s eyes narrow. “You know I don’t know a single couple I’d want to be like? Not a single one where I’m like, wow, that’s a great relationship. Maybe I can have that someday.” He gives a disbelieving little laugh. “Not one! And sure as hell not, not a queer one. Or...” There’s another nearly hysterical little laugh. “Or an interspecies one, for fuck’s sake.”

Michael licks his lips. He’s, he’s grasping for ways to talk Alex down. “Is this about the wedding? Like, second thoughts? Are you, are you not ready?” Michael swallows. “Like, if you need time, I’ll give you time.”

Alex is just staring at him, and Michael starts ticking through the boxes of what else Alex could possibly need, want right now. “Is it, is it the idea of being with, with just me?” And god, he hates what he’s about to say, but he says it. “Cause, cause fuck, Alex, I love you. God knows I, I had years to fuck around. And I know you didn’t get that like I did, with the military and your dad and shit, so if you want that -“

“What the actual fuck, Michael?”

“I, I’m just saying -“

“Have you heard anything I’ve just said?”

And now Michael’s hurt. Offended. “Of course I have.”

“And your first thought was, what, maybe he wants to open this up?” Alex is looking at him, incredulous. “Like, do you?”

“No!” Michael exclaims. “I just, I love you Alex. I, I want you however I can have you.”

“And that’s part of the problem!” Alex says, desperate. “You’re so... so damn self-sacrificing sometimes. And let me just put it out there, for the damn record, you have me. You’ve fucking had me since I was 17, and, and I think I have you, but is that enough?” Alex is hunched over the table now. “Like, I want this to be good for us. Healthy. But, but how can we even know what that looks like?” He shakes his head at Michael. “Like, healthy is not volunteering to have a god damn open relationship at the first sign of trouble. Especially when you don’t even want one, my god.” He blows out a breath. Looks down. At his leg. “And it’s also not, not being a stubborn bastard and ignoring your own health just to stick it to your boyfriend and sleep on the couch.” He curses low, under his breath. “We’re both the problem, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“I...” Michael starts, then stops. Buffy chooses this instant to trot up to him, curl herself against his bare legs, and fuck, he can’t, can’t imagine leaving Alex, leaving her...

“I left a voicemail for Dr. Ling this morning. Told her I want to start up regular sessions again,” Alex says quietly. “And I think, well, it was her suggestion, actually, when I was seeing her before. She said that maybe we should consider couple’s therapy.”

Michael scoffs, at that. Rolls his eyes.

Alex sees, and his jaw tightens. “You know,” he starts. “ I think it’s more than a little - “ he breathes, regroups. “I think it’s telling that you’d sooner suggest that we fuck other people than actually talk to someone about this.”

And fuck if he doesn’t have a point, there.

The truth of it rattles Michael, and he finally sits down across from Alex. Sets the coffee mug on the table, a little too rough. “I don’t want to have to go in there and lie.”

Alex purses his lips. “I... I get that. I know you hate that. But, with this, I think we could still get something out of it. I mean, I have to lie. To Dr. Ling. About you.” He sees Michael’s face. “And I know that’s not the same. It’s definitely not. But, but I think it could help us, Michael. I mean, even if we never even touch the alien stuff, there’s so much else.” He pauses. “And maybe, maybe we could learn. Learn to really talk to each other. So that when we did need to talk, about anything - even the alien stuff, especially the alien stuff - we could.”

And Michael looks at him, really looks. He’s just this side of desperate. Almost pleading, but... but there’s still hope. And the hope does it. Because he wasn’t lying when he said he’d do anything for Alex, and he knows it says something really fucking strange about him that, even after all these years, he’d find it easier to, to take a goddamn hammer for him than to open up like this, in this way. But at his core, he knows he’s right.

He breathes deep and looks right at Alex. “If it’ll keep you off this couch,” he says, pointedly, “then yeah, I’ll go put in my time on a different one.”

And Alex, Alex looks so relieved. Reaches across the table and grasps Michael’s hand with his own, still warm from gripping his coffee mug. “Thank you.”

Michael leans forward, then - cradles Alex’s face with his other hand, and gives him a kiss. A real one. Not urgent. Just... genuine.

And Alex smiles, pulls away and looks down, almost shy.

“What?” Michael asks.

“I, I just...” Alex finally looks at him, quirks an eyebrow. “I told myself I wasn’t gonna do this, this morning, told myself that we were gonna talk, but, well... want to spend a little time on, on our couch, first?”

The invitation is clear, and now it’s Michael’s turn to be relieved.

“Yes.”

[roc-thoughtblog]

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 15

Chapter 18, Pages 83-88

Past two weeks have been... rough isn't the right word, that implies a specific level of hardship. Mismanaged implies that I made management decisions at all. I think "thoroughly paralyzing" and "difficult to manage" were what it was. If I ever mention emails in the preamble again you can be sure there's a 50% chance I'm imminently falling apart and disappearing for a while under the pressure. I still haven't conquered them at the time of writing this, but I've made some progress..

Over the weekend two sets of friends dragged me out, so that's helped a lot in resetting my mind to a less frozen space. I got to see a bird art exhibit and pick up a friendly kitty! I have no idea where yesterday went but I finished DDLC the day before, which was fun and I'd like to write something about.

This week's looking better.

Anyway! Previously, Edward Ferrars has returned, and makes his greatest spoken appearance thus far with all the sisters; and in the comfort of their familiar company he sounds very much at ease and how Elinor would refer to as "as himself." It's very sweet, but it also sounds like he's nursing something broody underneath it all.

Geez it's been almost two weeks.

It took me a good four hours today to get back into reading again, but I'm glad I did. This chapter was so sweet, and I feel like it's helping me get my life rolling again.

Readthrough below.

Chapter 18

Edward Ferrars is doing a good impression of me during social outings. Poor Elinor, he's so despirited she's not able to even read if he still loves her/wants to see her;

and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding one.

Another for the nice line stack. I really know the feeling though; that you should or even are genuinely happy to be there but something weighs on you in a way that whatever you should naturally feel gets swallowed. Like happiness is a poor signal being intermittently obscured by static and noise. And other people can pick it up easily even if they don't know the cause; poor Elinor is feeling insecure right now being made to guess what it could be.

Edward's behaving oddly, not just in Marianne's opinion but in mine as well I think. Or at least, very detachedly. He skips breakfast with Elinor to go a walk around town to admire the scenery; I have to pause my train of thought for this actually:

"I shall call hills steep, which ought to be bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, which out to be irregular and rugged; and distant objects out of sight, which ought only to be indistinct through the soft medium of hazy atmosphere. [...] I call it a very fine country - the hills are steep, the woods seem full of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug - [...] I can easily believe it to be full of rocks and promontories, grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me."

When Marianne tries to press Edward for the details of his aethstic opinion after his walk, he gets pre-emptively defensive over his inability to meet her standards of aesthetic appreciation. Asides from illustrating that Edward knows how to describe what he lacks, it's really helpful to me for being an incredibly easy to reference breakdown on the difference between observations made from aesthetics versus utility.

Steep hills, out of sight objects, comfort and resource presence are all practical concerns. Meanwhile, uncouth surfaces imply personality, a hazy distant skyline adds atmosphere, promontories are dramatic and grey moss and brush wood are appealing visual details. I haven't really stopped thinking about narrative voice, so I'm suddenly struck wondering about a detective/reporter dynamic where two characters cover the same scene but one is practical and the other is poetic, and seeing the difference... Well it's probably been done and I should nix this train of thought before it takes me interstate.

Amusingly, Elinor undercuts her beau by explaining to Marianne that Edward is not nearly as exclusively utilitarian-minded as he acts... he just masks the latent poetry within his soul because he holds a slight reactionary bias against aesthetics, because he finds some aesthetic appreciators to be fake and pretentious. Oh dear. :'D

Fortunately for Edward, Marianne agrees that florid language has been done to death. Unfortunately for Elinor, Edward refutes her claim that he has any hidden poetic appeal. He goes as far as to use language like "crooked, twisted, blasted trees" while doing so too, which, I think we can all agree it's a waste that he doesn't employ them more often. :'D

Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her sister. Elinor only laughed.

Same. :'D

Oh, oh no.

Next paragraph Marianne spots that Edward has a new ring and blurts out the observation for a conversation topic. Oh no, no that can't be any kind of good in general. A surprise new ring? In a romance novel? Murder! Bloody murder! It's like finding a bloody handprint in a murder mystery; Edward what have you done??

I might be having a little trouble following what comes now though. So there's a hair inlaid in the ring (what is it with people keeping each other's hair?), which Marianne asks if it's Fanny's. The hair's not the right colour to be Fanny's, but Edward makes an excuse while glancing (guiltily?) at Elinor. So now, both sisters think it's Elinor's hair, and he's lying about the source because he's embarassed? Marianne thinks it Elinor gave to him, but Elinor thinks he secretly stole it from her?

I think that's what happened?

Elinor doesn't even like... particularly mind that her hair might have been stolen to make a ring.

That hair is definitely not Elinor's though, which I think she will mind.

[Elinor] internally resolved henceforward to catch every opportunity of eyeing the hair and satisfying, beyond all doubt, that it was exactly the same as her own. [...] how little offense it had given to [Elinor].

Elinor's natural skepticism, at an 11 for Willoughby, is turned down to a 1 for her beau. In fact, her natural skepticism is playing second fiddle to her basking in attention; from the rest of the context it sounds like she's just using it as an excuse to admire her beau apparently wearing her hair. We've seen paranoid hyperaware Elinor, and this is definitely not her. This is a new Elinor, this is aaaaaaaaaa my beau has a secret memento of me aaaaaaaaa i can't betray my secret internal happiness aaaaaaaaaaa Elinor.

I don't even think I'm reading too much into the secret internal happiness thing, girl has feelings and biases. If it were Willoughby with the strange ring of hair she'd be driving herself up the wall with concern, but that it's Edward she's already half-convinced herself of his fidelity. Either it's not her hair, or he stole her hair behind her back, and neither is a good thing! In fact, the latter is quite a stretch, and Edward seems like an awful liar. And even though she assumes the latter option, that he stole her hair without her consent, she's not even upset! That's not just creepy nowadays, Elinor acknowledges in the text that she should be affronted! It's creepy then too! Poor girl has it bad.

Mama Dashwood are you gonna say anything? I don't think Marianne is useful here, she's just happy to see signs of love.

Oh boy, there's not even much of a reprieve before Sir Middleton and Mrs Jennings show up to meet the new lad in town. 0 seconds for Mrs Jennings to figure out Edward is Elinor's secret beau. Poor Elinor is gonna get her match made so hard. I expect exponentially increased amounts of unwanted advice.

Sir Middleton invites them to more parties, as he do, which may or may not be the coming chapters. Marianne is still despirited that Willoughby is absent. Edward catches on to all these mentions of a mysterious Willoughby and Marianne's despondent reactions, and pieces things to together to come out and ask Marianne privately... if Willoughby hunts.

He just made a joke, that cheered Marianne up. That's adorable, I love it so much. Bonding... :')

Not just him too, the entire narrative was setting that one up for the reader, trying to build it up into some kind of serious question or confrontation so that Willoughby could deliver the punchline on Marianne. On a dry technical level it conveys the same bare minimum of information that it otherwise could have (that Edward has figured something out and confronted Marianne about it), but on every other level it's so much more heartwarming and just adds such a fine, tender touch to an interpersonal relationship that really doesn't get all that much positive attention.

And beyond touched, Marianne is all of happy, anxious and certain that Eddie would be great friends with her Willoughby, which, I need many new sentences to express how incredibly meaningful that is.

Marianne's relationship with Eddie up until now has been marked by a frustrated inability to understand him, and mostly held together by the good words and attention of her sister. They're established to be friends and positive, but there's always a fraught element to it, especially since we've seen that she and Willoughby together have had a similar antagonistic relationship towards Brandon, and that doesn't play out well even with Elinor's defense. Given how much she insists that she shares her heart and mind with Willoughby, we can reach the implication that she treats her opinion or place as interchangeable with Willoughby's. If she can confidently opine that Eddie will like Willoughby, then I think this is that tender moment where we can see that, no matter how or if they fight or disagree, Marianne truly believes that Eddie deeply likes and appreciates her, because that's what's necessary to like Willoughby.

And Eddie reciprocates! "I do not doubt it." He has no reason to know that Willoughby and Marianne have appreciably interchangeable level singlemindedness, so he just likes Marianne enough to be ready to accept whoever it is that she loves.

It's such a lovely note to end an otherwise tense chapter on. That interaction alone might have made it one of my favourites so far.

[bellakitse]

Prompt #38 for Malex

prompt list

38. “Have you lost your mind?”

Five timesMichael stole something from Alex to get him to come to him, and the one-timeAlex stayed for good.

10.

Michael has learned how to act like a human, it’s taken him a few years,but he knows now not to draw symbols of his home on the walls, to not screamfor hours on end and to talk when he needs to. He plays the part of a human boywell enough that he’s made his way back to Roswell with his siblings. He’s withthem again, and that’s all that matters, all he should focus on.

Except that there’s a boy in his class that Michael can’t help butstare at.

A boy with dark brown hair that falls over his chocolate-coloredeyes, eyes that follow Michael and make him hyperaware in a way that makesMichael’s skin feel tight. It makes Michael want to ask what he’s looking at. Itmakes Michael want to ask the boy anything. The desire to talk to someone whoisn’t Isobel or Max is new.

The boy likes to sit alone at free reading time, always with a comic,splashes of color on the cover, Michael can make out the title ‘Superman,’ andit makes him curious enough that when he sees the boy put it away in his desk,Michael can’t help but swipe it.

He sits behind one of the trees far away from the playground sothat the rest of the kids won’t bother him, but not so far Mrs. Gilbert; histeacher will worry and look for him. He stares at the cover of a man in a blueand red suit, soaring through the sky.

“That’s mine, you know.”

Michael looks up startled and finds the boy with the brown eyeslooking down at him with a slight frown on his face.

Michael nods, opening his mouth to apologize for taking it. He’slearned, that’s what humans do. But before he can get the words out, the boysits down next to him, his knee knocking into Michael’s.

“Do you like Superman?” the boy asks. “I have other comics abouthim if you want to read them.”

“Superman?” Michael questions looking down at the comic.

“You don’t know, Superman?” the boy questions, tilting his head tolook at Michael. A silky strand of hair falling over his right eye, it looks sosmooth unlike the mop on Michael’s head, and Michael has the urge to reach outand touch it.

“Superman,” the boy starts, pointing at the man on the cover. “Isan alien from the planet Krypton, his parents sent him away when his planet wasdestroyed, and he landed on Earth, he can fly and is stronger than everyone.”

The boy continues to tell him about Superman as they go throughthe comic, and Michael listens, enthralled. And alien superhero with a secretidentity. Michael is amazed.

“No one is afraid of him?” he questions after a while.

“No,” the boy scoffs. “Well, maybe just the bad guys, but he’shere to help the people of Earth,” the boy finishes just as the bell signaling theend of recess rings out.

“That’s us,” the boy stands up dusting off his pants, he holds outa hand to help Michael up. He stares at it for a moment before taking it.

The boy looks at him, biting down on his lip nervously. “Do youwant me to bring you some more comics?” he finally asks. “We could read them togetherat free time.”

Michael stares, he’s never seen the boy read with anyone at freetime, unlike everyone else who pairs off and now he wants to read with Michael.Michael nods quickly, his stomach giving a funny jump when the boy breaks outin a huge smile.

“I’m Alex by the way, Alex Manes.”

“Michael Guerin.”

14.

“That’s mine, Guerin,” Alex calls out walking up to him on thedeserted schoolyard.

Michael doesn’t bother to look up from the skateboard under hisfoot, and he frowns as he tries to steady himself. He doesn’t know why he can’tget this. He’s a genius, damn it. He understands gravity, motion, balance. Thereis a science to skateboarding, he knows it, but he can’t figure it out.

“Seriously, you steal my skateboard, and now you ignore me?” Alexcomplains, huffing when Michael still doesn’t say anything and continues to tryto work out the problem. “Why are you staring at it like it’s one of thosephysics problems you pretend you don’t work on for fun, it’s skateboarding, it’snot like it’s hard.”

Michael looks up at the boy and glares when he sees a smirk playingon his face. He’d tried earlier to skate on the board only to fall on his ass,and yet he’s seen Alex with it. The boy doesn’t just ride the thing; he likesto show off, doing more and more complicated air tricks.

It’s not hard for Alex, and it’s frustrating for Michael.

Alex looks at him a little longer, his smirk turning into a softsmile. “Do you want me to teach you?”

Michael nods after a minute and holds his breath when Alex steps upclose to him.

“Up on the board, Guerin,” Alex instructs.

“Really, Alex?” Michael rolls his eyes. “On the board, that’s yourgreat lesson?”

Alex gives him an unimpressed look. “Are you going to sass me, orare you going to listen?”

“Can’t I do both?” he teases before asking. “What if I fall?”

“You probably will,” Alex acknowledges, placing his hands onMichael’s waist and Michael gasps as he can feel the heat of Alex’s hands throughhis t-shirt and flannel. “But I’ll hold on to you to help, and if you do fall. I’llbe here to get you up, okay?”

Michael looks at the boy, the earnest expression on his face andbelieves without a doubt.

Believes Alex.

He might fall, but Alex will be there to get him up.

“Okay.”

17.

“What the hell Guerin, you can’t just steal instruments from themusic room,” Alex calls out marching over to Michael as he sits on the tailgateof his truck, taking the guitar from Michael’s hands. “This is mine.”

“I was going to return it, and it was out of tune, so…” Michael answers,a smirk firmly in place. “You’re welcome.”

Alex rolls his kohl-lined eyes at him, there is a small smudgefrom the black pencil under Alex’s left eye, and Michael has to curb the urgeto reach out and wipe it away with his thumb. It seems these days he’s constantly fighting the urge to reach out andtouch Alex.

He’s not stupid enough to not know what it means, and he has eyes.Alex is stupid good-looking even if he does dress like a My Chemical Romancegroupie, which he actually is. But it’s more than that, when it comes to Alex,there has always been a pull for Michael, ever since the first comic book theyshared, only that now it comes with a strong desire to know what Alex’s lipstaste like.

Alex is watching him with those same expressive eyes that alwaysseem to see too much.

“You really do live in your truck?” Alex asks, nodding towards theblankets behind him.

Michael bristles at the question, and he snaps one of his own. “Areall the rumors about you true?” he asks, instantly feeling bad as Alextakes a step away from him. He knows Alex has been getting shit for being gayand not hiding it. Kyle Valenti and his group of neanderthals can’t seem to goa day without picking on Alex.

“You’re kinda lucky you know,” Alex starts, looking away before backat Michael. “Things at my house suck.”

He starts to walk away, only to stop again, his back to Michael.

“There’s this toolshed out behind my house,” Alex says quietly, stillnot looking at him. “It’s warm, and I go there when things get bad, so…” he trailsoff and leaves.

Michael sits there confused at to what exactly Alex is offering.

Later, when they’re in the shed playing music, Michael finallygets it.

Alex is offering him what he’s never had. A home.

21.

Michael is watching Alex pull up his pants as he lays on the thinbed of the cheap motel they found an hour outside of Roswell. Alex is back intown for exactly 48 hours, and they have spent 40 of those hours in bed wrappedup in each other, willfully ignoring that their time is running out.

Michael hates it, and for a moment hates Alex. It’s like thisevery time Alex blows into town. He follows wherever Alex leads only to be leftbehind again. He spots Alex’s dog tags on the bedside table and reaches forthem, putting them on.

“Those are mine, Guerin,” Alex says, tucking his shirt into hisfatigues.

“If I keep them, will you stay?” Michael can’t help but ask,blushing at his own ridiculous question. Of course, Alex can’t stay; he knowsthat. He’s not stupid. Staying means going AWOL, but he still wants Alex tostay. He’s 21, and he’s in love, and the boy he loves keeps leaving.

He just wants him to stay.

Alex looks at him, and it breaks Michael’s heart how sad Alex looks.

“That’s not the way it works, Guerin,” Alex says quietly, thesorrow in his brown eyes too much for Michael. So even though he should be buildingup his walls, ready to watch Alex leave again, he finds himself standing up andwrapping his arms around the Airman, holding him close as he lets out ashuddering breath.

When they separate, Alex has his hands around the dog tags,holding them to Michael’s chest.

“I’m keeping them,” Michael says firmly. “I’ll give them to youwhen you come back.”

28.

“Give me my fucking keys, Guerin!” Alex shouts, his face red andangry.

“Why!” he shouts back, just as furious but also scared, terrified,because if he lets Alex leave now, he’s going to lose him forever. And not inthe way he’s already lost him. Not in the way that Alex avoids him since hefound him at The Wild Pony with Maria.

No, this is a losing him forever, bury him kind of way, thatleaves Michael without any air in his lungs.

Alex hasn’t talked to him in months other than when strictly necessary;only when it comes to alien business. It doesn’t matter that he and Maria lasteda millisecond. It doesn’t matter that he’s told him he made a mistake. Heanswers that Michael has nothing to be sorry about and that it wasn’t a mistake.Michael should want to get away from him.

Alex has completely shut down around him, around everyone, livingand breathing to bring his father down.

“I have to go, Guerin,” Alex starts tiredly.

“And what?” Michael questions, his voice going high, and he feelshimself shake, fear gripping through him. “Try to stop your dad and getyourself killed? I read the files, Alex! I know what you want to do. If you go,you won’t come back.”

“I have to make things right!” Alex shouts, still angry but now desperate.“I have to fix everything he’s done to you; I have to make amends.”

“You don’t have to make amends for your father, Alex!” he screamsback, at his wit’s end. “You aren’t him; this isn’t on you.”

Alex stops and looks at him, letting out a bitter laugh after amoment. “Aren’t I, Guerin? Isn’t that why you didn’t want me anymore, why youwent to Maria? Because I remind you of my dad,” Alex whispers, tears runningdown his face. “Because I’m just like him, in your eyes?”

Michael shakes his head, crying. His words and actions have done somuch damage, and now he’s about to lose what matters the most to him because ofit. He doesn’t realize he’s hyperventilating until Alex’s hands are on his faceforcing him to look at him.

“Breathe, Michael,” Alex commands, his gaze steady. “Breathe forme.

“Please,” he begs through gasping breaths. “Please don’t go, don’tleave me. I love you, Alex, I love you, and if you die, I’ll die.”

“Michael,” Alex exhales, but Michael isn’t done, he gripsAlex’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I’m so fucking sorry. I was hurt, andI turned around and hurt you too, and If I could take it back, I would. Ishould have told you I loved you that night you came to the airstream. I shouldhave come back the next day instead of standing you up. I should have done somany things differently.”

Alex shakes his head, his hands running through Michael’s hair,making him sob, it’s been so long since Alex has touched him. “It’s not just onyou, I have fucked up so much Michael, I get you wanting to move on from us;from me. I don’t blame you.”

“I haven’t moved on,” Michael whispers, his voice wet from crying.“I could never move on from you; you’re my home; you’re my everything. If youdon’t want to be with me, I can learn to live with it, but if you die, I’llfollow you, Alex. I swear I will.”

Alex lets out a pained noise right before crushing his lipsagainst Michael’s, only pulling back when breathing becomes a problem.

“I have always wanted you,” Alex says as he cradles Michael’sface, wiping away the fresh tears his words cause. “I always will.”

“So don’t leave,” Michael begs one more time, letting out a tremblingbreath when Alex presses his forehead against his and nods.

28.

Michael is sitting around his fire pit when Alex pulls up; he looksdown at Bagel who raises her head in curiosity before laying it back down overMichael’s boot. “It’s showtime, baby girl,” he whispers down at the beagle. “Rememberto be super cute.”

Bagel gives him a look that screams ‘Bitch, please.’ And Michaelgrins, he loves this dog.

“Have you lost your mind?” Alex asks as he walks out of his car,his eyes wide, a familiar piece of paper in his hand and Michael has to bitedown on his lip to keep from grinning, even as his heart pounds wildly in hischest as he looks at his boyfriend.

“Problem?” he asks innocently, smirking as Alex lets out an exasperatedscreech.

“Yes, Michael!” Alex yells. “You can’t kidnap my dog and leave mea note telling me if I want to see her again, I’ll have to marry you!”

“Dognap,” Michael corrects, easily. “I mean she is our kid,but technically it’s a dognapping.”

Alex gapes at him.

“And really,” he continues as he stands. “Bagel is as much my dogas yours, so really I just took her on a little trip.”

Alex seems to snap out of it at that and glares at him. “You can’tjust claim my dog as yours.”

“The hell I can’t,” Michael shoots back. “I claim her, and I claimyou, you’re mine. Enough of our bullshit.”

Alex lets out an incredulous laugh, but Michael can see the hopein his eyes, the love shining through.

“You can’t keep stealing my stuff,” Alex protests halfheartedly,taking a step towards him.

“Sure I can,” Michael says softly as he reaches for him, holdingAlex by his waist. “At least I give them back, you stole my heart years ago,and you don’t hear me complaining.”

Alex looks away for a moment before looking back at Michael, asmile on his face. “Well, it’s mine,” he says easily.

“It is,” he murmurs in agreement, leaning to kiss Alex’s temple. “So,marry me.”

“Michael,” Alex starts softly. “We’ve only been back together acouple of months.”

Michael laughs just as soft. “We’ve been together for years, Alex.”

Alex goes to speak, and Michael presses two fingers against hismouth. “We’ve been together since the first moment we kissed, but I have beenyours since you first shared Superman with me.”

“An alien superhero,” Alex whispers, smiling at the memory, hiseyes bright. “And now I get to marry one.”

[rosedavid]

Nowhere I’d Rather Be

Check out my other fics here!

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since Andi’s party, three weeks since TJ and Cyrus subtly confessed their feelings for one another, and three weeks since they interlaced their fingers together with exhilarated grins. In that moment, TJ remembers how all his jumbled, never-ending thoughts and worries about the future got momentarily pushed to the side so he could focus on one single thing: the boy holding his hand. Cyrus.

Three weeks later, and the giddy feeling that blossoms inside TJ’ s chest when he thinks about Cyrus still hasn’t faded. He supposes that’s a good sign, as the feeling continues to prove how crazy he is about the boy. There’s also a significant downside to TJ’s constant racing heart, sweaty palms, and flushed cheeks; he’s terrified. Relationships in general are new to TJ, let alone a relationship with a boy who also happens to be one of his best friends. He doesn’t want to screw this up because not only does he really likes Cyrus, but because he knows that Cyrus deserves the world and more. TJ doesn’t want to be a disappointment. 

Despite all of Cyrus’s reassurances, TJ still feels guilty about taking their relationship so slow. They haven’t done much besides occasionally hold hands in private, linger longer than usual during hugs, and send soft smiles at each other. Even though it seems like it’s enough for Cyrus, TJ notices the longing look he gets while watching Buffy and Marty be all coupley together in public. And the worst part is that TJ wants nothing more than to be just like that. He wants to be able to lock hands in the halls. He wants to drape an arm casually around Cyrus during lunch. He wants to kiss him goodbye at the end of the day. 

But then the fear drops in. Sometimes, it arrives because he spots Kira wandering through the halls one day. Other days, it might be an offhanded comment he hears. A lot of days, though, TJ has no idea where this terror originates from, and that’s what scares him the most. 

Today, TJ is determined. He’s going to take Cyrus out on a proper date. No staying in watching movies. TJ wants to give Cyrus the most memorable date of his life. He wants to see Cyrus’s nose scrunch up when he gets really excited and his hands flail about at an even faster pace. He wants to hold Cyrus’s hand the entire time and never let go. 

He has the perfect date planned. He’s going to take Cyrus to a reptile sanctuary, where Cyrus can see all of his favorite lizards he always rambles on about as well as know that they will be released later because he knows how much Cyrus hates seeing animals in cages. 

So, this brings them to the car. TJ sits with Cyrus in the backseat while his mother drives. Cyrus can’t sit still. He constantly shifts his legs and taps his fingers on the armrests with a curious expression on his face. 

“Is it The Spoon?” Cyrus wonders.

TJ shakes his head, “We always go there!”

“The movies?”

“Nope.”

“A football game?”

TJ stares at him incredulously. “You really think I’d make you suffer through an entire football game?”

“I hoped not, but I had to make sure!” Cyrus defends.

Laughing, TJ almost reaches over to grab his hand but decides against it last minute. His mother may know that he’s gay now, but she doesn’t officially know he’s dating Cyrus (although she definitely suspects it). Not only does TJ want to avoid outing Cyrus to his mother, but he also worries about Cyrus’s reaction. What if he doesn’t want to hold TJ’s hand? What if he thinks it’s super gross that TJ’s hand is so sweaty? 

What if’s have always been TJ’s enemy, but they’ve been especially detrimental to him recently. He just wants to be able to be Cyrus’s boyfriend without worrying about what others may think. He wants to be able to give Cyrus everything he deserves but worries that he’ll never be able to do that. He worries that he’s holding Cyrus back from happiness. 

But he has to make today different. He has to push those worries aside again and take a risk, just like that night on the bench with their hands inching closer while he held his breath. 

When they arrive at the reptile sanctuary, a beam lights up Cyrus’s entire face. His joy is contagious, causing TJ to smile himself. Cyrus looks at him in hopeful confirmation.

“A reptile sanctuary?” Cyrus squeals. “I didn’t even know they had one this close by!”

“So you like it then?” TJ asks, ducking his head. 

“I love it!”

With a promise of picking them up in an hour and half, TJ’s mother drives off and leaves them alone. They walk up toward the entrance to pay the donation fee before getting inside. The instant they head in and Cyrus spots the first reptile, he practically runs over to get a closer look. Even though TJ is honestly kind of terrified of reptiles, dealing with seeing them is worth it as long as he can see the excitement on Cyrus’s face. 

He looks adorable standing on his tiptoes to get a better look into the large, open area. Flecks of gold sparkle in his dark eyes every so often. He spews out the most random facts, yet TJ has never found something so interesting. Of course, if he occasionally zones out to focus on Cyrus’s lips, could anyone blame him?

As they walk through different areas of the sanctuary, TJ becomes hyperaware of how close together their hands are to touching. If he just adjusted his position a little, he could strategically brush his hand with Cyrus’s--

“Cyrus?!” A feminine voice calls out in surprise. 

“Iris!”

TJ yanks his hand away like he’s been burned. At his side, a flash of disappointment crosses Cyrus’s face, but it’s gone as soon is it arrives. 

In front of them, a girl with short brown hair and a cheery smile waves enthusasitcally. Cyrus waves back, sporting a similar face. She comes over to them, giving Cyrus a quick hug. 

“It’s been so long!” Iris comments, looking up at him. “You’ve gotten so tall!”

“And you cut your hair. It looks great!” Cyrus notices. 

“Thanks! Fancy seeing you here, fellow lizard lover!”

“I know, this place is amazing! I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

Abruptly, TJ clears his throat, catching both of their attention. Iris smiles politely at him. 

“Oh, this is TJ!” Cyrus introduces. “TJ, Iris. TJ is my bo--best friend. My best friend. He’s actually the one who discovered this place.”

Man, does that correction hurt to hear. TJ feels awful. Cyrus has to lie to his friends about them just because TJ is scared. He hates this. 

“Nice to meet you TJ.”

He nods, “You too. So how do you two know each other?”

Despite the hot sun blaring down on them, Cyrus visibly pales. Iris doesn’t seem quite as taken aback, but she tucks her hair behind her ear before stammering out an awkward explanation. 

“We used to date,” Iris says. 

Of course Cyrus has dated someone. How could he not have? After all, not only is he adorable, but he has a great personality and a kind heart. And this girl seems super great, as far as TJ can tell. Cyrus deserves someone who is actually willing to admit how they feel about each other. 

“But that was a long time ago,” Cyrus adds on hurridly, sneaking a glance at TJ. 

TJ supposes he should be jealous of Iris. Maybe at first he is, but afterwards just comes a sense of guilt and regret. He doesn’t want to make Cyrus feel like he’s being put in an awkward position. Just the other day, Cyrus’s mom (who he’s also out to) asked Cyrus if he’s dating anyone. Again, Cyrus was forced to lie on TJ’s behalf. 

“Oh,” TJ replies, not sure what else to say. 

“Well, I think Teej and I are gonna finish up here. It was great seeing you again, though!”

Iris smiles, “You too! We’ll have to catch up some time.”

“For sure.”

When she walks away, Cyrus turns toward him, concern knitting his brow. TJ sighs, dropping his shoulders. 

“TJ? Are you alright?” he wonders. “I know that was probably super awkward for you.”

“No, it’s fine,” TJ promises. “She seemed really cool. I just...I feel bad.”

Cyrus tugs him over to a nearby bench, and TJ almost laughs out loud at the irony. They sit together, knees knocking against one another. The position they’re in reminds TJ so much of that night that he has to swallow back his emotions to keep himself in check. 

“Why do you feel bad?” Cyrus asks in a whisper. 

TJ shrugs. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s something that’s affecting you negatively.”

TJ picks at a string on his shirt, avoiding eye contact. 

“I feel like I’m holding you back.”

“Why would you think that, Teej?”

He glances up to see Cyrus reach for his hand. Before he can, though, a shadow of a family walks past, and Cyrus tugs his hand back. 

“See, that’s why!” TJ explains. “I want to be open with our relationship so badly. I want to hold hands in public and hug and kiss, but I just can’t. I’m so scared, Cyrus. But I can tell that you’re ready, and I’m just not, and I hate it because you deserve much better-”

“Hey,” Cyrus shushes. “It’s okay. I’m okay with this. I don’t care if we’re taking things slow. I care about you being comfortable, and if you’re not ready to be public or to kiss, then I’m not either.”

“But-”

“Thelonious Jagger Kippen, you are not holding me back. I like you, and I’m going to stay with you, even if we go public for another year.”

TJ feels his eyes begin to water. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. I’ll always be here for you, I promise.”

He holds out a pinky, causing TJ to smirk. There’s many reasons he likes Cyrus, but quirks such as these just make him fall harder. He intertwines his pinky with Cyrus’s, shaking them once. 

“That’s legally binding,” Cyrus declares, “so now you’re stuck with me.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

[trishmilburn]

An Exploration of The Untamed’s Romance & Mystery, Episode 4

Disclaimer: This post and others in this series will be filled with loads of spoilers if you haven’t seen The Untamed, the Chinese drama based on Mo Xiang Tong Xiu’s novel, Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation). My chief interest in doing this series as I re-watch the drama is to chronicle the development of the romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, but I also highlight the progression of the mystery that helps bring them together. Keep in mind that I’m writing these posts with the knowledge of what’s going to happen throughout the series and having read the novel. If you’d like to read my examinations of previous episodes, links are provided at the end of this post.

On to Episode 4...

This episode starts off with the camera panning piles of scattered papers with phrases such as “Banish Demons,” “Establish Laws” and “Immortalize Dao” written on them. A gong sound is heard in the distance, and suddenly Wei Ying sits up from underneath some of these papers and we realize he fell asleep while writing out his punishment from the previous episode. Because, of course he did. This Wei Ying, he’s easily bored.

There’s a lot of rules stuff in this episode, so no surprise that the next thing we see is a carved stone that says, “Propriety suggests reciprocity. It is impolite not to reciprocate.” Oh, Wei Ying is so going to break this rule, too, because he’s a little nonconformist and isn’t afraid to challenge the norm.

All the disciples from the various clans are sitting in class and one of the white-clad Lans starts reading out the list of Gusu Lan Sect’s more than 3,000 house rules. Honestly, how can anyone memorize all that? Do the Lans have eidetic memories? Anyway, Lan Zhan looks tense. (Hmm, is that because a very attractive but irritating person has unexpectedly grabbed your attention and you know he’s in the room, and if you turn just a little to your right you can see him?) Wei Ying, as one might expect, looks bored. I’m with Wei Ying on this one. Probably because he’s so hyperaware of Wei Ying’s position in the room, Lan Zhan becomes aware of Wei Ying’s restlessness and looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

Of particular interest during all this rule reading (not to mention foreshadowing) are these three rules:

1.       Your forehead ribbon (which all the Lans wear) reminds you of self-restraint.

2.       You are not allowed to use other people’s headbands without authorization.

3.       You cannot use your headband in any other ways.

Oh, how both Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are going to fail to obey these particular rules!

Bored Wei Ying becomes aware of a chirping sound and starts looking around to see where it’s coming from. Turns out Nie Huaisang is pretty bored, too, and shows Wei Ying what he literally has up his sleeve – a pretty little goldfinch in a wee cage. They start whispering back and forth, until Huaisang sees that Lan Zhan has noticed them. Huaisang immediately stops talking, followed by Wei Ying, who wears one of those expressions seen on the face of many a little boy when he’s caught misbehaving, as if it say, “Who me? I wasn’t talking.” Lan Zhan responds by giving Wei Ying the patented Lan Wangji Death Stare.

All this reading of rules that is going on throughout isn’t totally random. Some of them have deep meaning for what is to come. For instance, there is one about not belittling or taking advantage of the weak. Eventually, Wei Ying is going to stand alone in protecting the remnants of the Wen clan who had nothing to do with all the horrible things their relatives did.

But back to Wei Ying’s current antics. He smiles the patented Wei Wuxian Mile-Wide Smile and waves at Lan Zhan (Wei Ying really is like a puppy who just wants you to be his friend), but Lan Zhan turns away in annoyance. (I’d like to pause for a moment here to say how much I love romances where the couple start out as adversaries, then become friends, then friends become lovers, which is the track these two are going to travel.)

After all the many, many rules have been read, amazingly the students are not all comatose. In fact, thus begins the next stage of the most boring first day of school ever – the official greetings of each clan to their teacher, Lan Qiren, in which they give him thoughtful, fancy gifts. When Meng Yao accompanies Nie Huaisang to the front, carrying the Nie sect’s gift, a couple of unnamed dudes in the corner start whispering about how Meng Yao is the illegitimate son of the Jin clan’s leader and how after he was kicked out of the Jins’ Golden Unicorn Tower (this place also has several names, depending on the translation), he was taken in by the Nie sect. Seeing Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang here together is sad because I know what is coming farther down the road between these two.

Seeing this, sweet Lan Xichen comes forward and compliments Meng Yao as he accepts the Nie sect’s gift. Though Mo Xiang Tong Xiu has said the only gay couple in this story is Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, there are lots of shippers for a Lan Xichen and Meng Yao pairing, and I feel like the creators of The Untamed totally tossed those shippers some delicious crumbs by the way these two look at each other here and how Xichen’s fingers linger over Meng Yao’s as he accepts the gift from him. You can also interpret this interaction as Xichen simply offering support and friendship in an embarrassing moment for Meng Yao, but it’s definitely one of those scenes that are open to fan interpretation.

Next up the red-clad Wen clan shows up outside the entrance to the Cloud Recesses, led by the odious Wen Chao. (Have I mentioned I hate that guy?) As happened with the Jiangs when they arrived, the Wens are asked for their invitation. This, like most things, makes Wen Chao mad. He’s really full of himself and is offended that the Wens would be asked for such a thing, and he proceeds to set one of the Lans on fire with his fire magic. Wen Qing steps forward and puts out the fire, then tells Wen Chao to, basically, chill because the Chief Cultivator (Wen Ruohan, Wen Chao’s father) told them to not make a scene. Wen Chao snarls, tossing out that this was nothing, and walks right into the Cloud Recesses like he owns the place. Much like Lan Zhan has before, we see Wen Qing gripping her sword tightly. Yeah, she doesn’t like Wen Chao either.

Wen Chao strolls into the lecture room, interrupting Jiang Cheng’s greeting to Lan Qiren on behalf of the Jiang sect. Everyone is surprised to see them since the Wens have never attended any of the previous lecture series. When this is pointed out, Wen Chao says there is no need, implying the Wens are smarter and above such teachings. And yet, he’s there to deliver someone to attend.

Lan Zhan is pissed at his rudeness and starts to step forward, but Xichen shakes his head, telling him silently to let it go. Wei Ying, however, is not one to stay quiet in such a situation and calls Wen Chao out on his arrogance. Wen Chao has a typical overreaction, and even Jiang Cheng says it was a simple disagreement. But Wen Chao is determined to teach the Jiang clan a lesson and his henchmen rush in with swords drawn. Really, Wen Chao is the king of overreaction. Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng and others draw their own swords in response. To end this standoff before it turns bloody, Xichen pulls out Liebing, his xiao (a vertical, end-blown flute) and starts playing. Suddenly, all the drawn swords are magically pulled up toward the ceiling before falling and stabbing into the floor (RIP, lovely floorboards).

Meng Yao, who had positioned himself in a protective stance in front of Nie Huaisang (again, sad because of my knowledge of what is coming), looks at Xichen after he stops playing, and his expression indicates at the very least admiration for Xichen.

After the Wens depart and the lessons end for the day, Wei Ying walks out with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, and Huaisang compliments him on how he stood up to Wen Chao, saying, “Brother Wei, if I had your guts, wouldn’t that be great for me?” He doesn’t, however, and that will play into future decisions that will affect not only Wei Ying but also a great many other people.

Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan and calls out to him, calling him Brother Ji, but once again Lan Zhan ignores him. You can almost see the speech bubble above Lan Zhan: Why is this guy so weird and loud? LOL.

Cut to Lan Xichen, who is telling his uncle Qiren that he fears the Wens have ulterior motives for attending the lectures when they never have before. He also wonders if there is a connection between the Wen clan’s fire magic and the ghost puppets. Qiren says that since the Wens took over the Chief Cultivator seat, they’ve been acting weird, oppressing the weak, taking in countless retainers and making their main clan manor, Heavenly Nightless, into a city more than a manor. Interesting he says that last part since it eventually becomes known as Heavenly Nightless City.

When Xichen leaves and heads outside, he encounters Meng Yao, who has been waiting for him before he leaves to go back to the Nie sect’s home. He wanted to thank Xichen for saving him from embarrassment earlier, but Xichen says there’s no need because they are peers. This is likely something Meng Yao has never heard from anyone before, and thus it cements his affection for Xichen, no matter what kind of affection it is.

While exploring the back of the mountain at the Cloud Recesses, Wen Qing discovers an invisible barrier. Wei Ying, who had been in the stream nearby goofing off with Huaisang, trying to catch fish, hears Wen Qing and goes to intercept her. He sees she is holding a needle and learns she’s the Wen sect’s female physician he’s heard of, but when he asks her why she’s in this forbidden area (no matter that he’s also there, that’s just how he rolls), she refuses to tell him and walks away.

Next we see Jiang Yanli coming into a courtyard with a big pot of soup she’s made, and nearby Jiang Cheng is practicing sword movements. He’s talking to his sister about his worries about Wei Ying causing problems, and Yanli takes up for Wei Ying because she has a big soft spot for him. This doesn’t go unnoticed by her brother, who also notes how his father likes Wei Ying more than he does his own son. When Wei Ying shows up with grilled fish on sticks, he teases Jiang Cheng. Yanli, always the peacemaker, plays that role between these two yet again.

Oh, and we’re back to more boring lectures and rules, rules, rules. One pair of those rules is: Feel sorrow for being evil. Be happy for helping others. In the future, Wei Ying is going to be accused of being evil while he’s helping others. Once again, Lan Zhan gives Wei Ying a death stare when he catches him cutting up in class. Wei Ying responds by sending one of his magical paper men sailing over to Lan Zhan, who wastes no time crumpling it in his fist. Ah, there will be a time in the future when you don’t mind Wei Ying’s little paper men at all, Lan Zhan.

Qiren also notices Wei Ying misbehaving and puts him on the spot, asking him a series of questions, all of which Wei Ying answers correctly. This seems to annoy and impress Lan Zhan at the same time, though he would never admit that last part. Qiren isn’t so impressed though, saying that the mere fact that Wei Ying grew up with the Jiangs had been enough to be able to answer those questions so his ability to do so is nothing to be particularly proud of. So he poses a more difficult hypothetical, and when Wei Ying doesn’t provide an answer Qiren turns to Lan Zhan, who provides what is a textbook perfect answer that has no doubt been drilled into his head repeatedly during his entire life. But then Wei Ying says that there might indeed be another way to deal with the situation, using resentful energy the same way that spiritual energy is used to deal with vengeful wraiths. This idea of using an “evil path” of cultivation infuriates Lan Qiren, who tells Lan Zhan to take Wei Ying to the library and have him copy something called Proprietary Regulations 1,000 times. If he’s not careful, all Wei Ying is going to get out of this lecture series is carpal tunnel syndrome.

Instead of going to the library, Wei Ying hies off to the back area of the Cloud Recesses again, where he finds cutie pie cinnamon roll Wen Ning practicing his archery. (Yu Bin was another bit of brilliant casting in the role of Wen Ning.) Wei Ying compliments his talent but says he needs to work on his posture and proceeds to help him. Wen Qing shows up and is irritated her sweet brother is being friendly when they are not there to make friends. While she just seemed shrill and unfriendly on the first viewing at this point, now I know that she is dealing with the knowledge of the precarious situation she and her brother are in with Wen Ruohan, as we’ll see later on. She interrupts them just as Wen Ning lets loose another arrow, and it causes him to turn and the arrow to fly straight for her. Wei Ying jumps in to save the day, deflecting the arrow with a paper talisman, and then asks why he’s always running into Wen Qing at the back of the mountain. He teases her, asking if she’s following him or looking for something. She accuses him of talking nonsense, then takes her brother and leaves.

Wei Ying, left alone, wonders if the Cloud Recesses really is hiding secrets. A sound from behind him has him pulling his sword and battling a potential assailant until he recognizes that it’s Lan Zhan, who has come to take his delinquent butt to the library. The episode ends with Wei Ying sheathing his sword and giving Lan Zhan another one of those big, happy smiles that are never reciprocated.

These two, they are so obviously drawn together, but neither of them recognizes the true reason why. And while Wei Ying is likely just thinking, oh cool, I’d like to be this guy’s friend, I can wear anyone down with my exuberant personality, Lan Zhan is just resisting the pull that he probably doesn’t even realize is a pull. Fight it all you want, Lan Zhan, you’re going to fall for him anyway.

Previous posts in this series:

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

[dragonleesupporter]

Unloved Siblings Part 2

Author’s note: ALRIGHT! I worked REALLY hard on this one to make sure it was good. Hope you all enjoy!

WARNING: This is a tickle fic, it also includes Remus, and thoughts about suicide.)

Description: Remus and Debaja meet in a dark, grey landscape. 

Remus paced up and down the hallway, unsure of how to execute his plan. He needed a place to commit the deed. He knew he couldn’t go to his own room, since he shared it with Roman, and didn’t want to risk getting caught. Deceit had banished him from the snake’s room shortly after the duke had introduced his idea. Logan would catch him for sure, being hyperaware of everything around him, and Patton’s room was too soft and fluffy. The duke would get so caught up in the overwhelming sentimentality that surrounded him there that it would put a stop to his plans for sure. And Virgil’s room-DON’T even THINK about it…

             “So… how do I do it…?” He wondered out loud.

             He paced a few more minutes before an idea came into his head.

             When they were all younger, Deceit had told the green side about a grey realm where souls travel as mere shadows of who they used to be… and if the duke remembered correctly… Deceit’s sarcastic wording was “It’s totally not where soul fragments go to die…”

             Perfect.

             …

             Remus entered his room and summoned a portal. It had been a while since he had used one, so the duke had to try multiple times to get it to actually go through, but once it was completed, he knew he was ready. With empty greyness waiting for him on the other side, he rushed toward it like a long-lost friend, diving through the portal as it abruptly closed behind him.

             All around him was grey. It felt tight, like a cramped office space, yet the duke could see infinite darkness around him; no walls in sight.

             “Shadows indeed…” The green side commented as he stared around at all the black creatures shuffling around him.

             They walked in a way that made it look like they had somewhere to go, but Remus realized they were just moving wildly around like fish in a bowl. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to do, no one truly awake in the grey world…

              And there was no one who cared if Remus killed himself in that moment.

             The duke smiled crazily; pupils dilated.

             “Perfect. Just swell!” He pranced in a circle, startling some of the ghosts.

             The green side drew out his mace and stared into his distorted reflection with a mixture of emotions.

             Was he really going to do this?

             No. It was already decided. Remus HAD to do this… Not just for him and his brother… but for all the dark sides. He had to show those light ones… Even if it meant he couldn’t come back…

             He raised his mace out in front of him with the intent of banging his own head in with the iron spike-ball. He could already feel his being draining away with the coldness of the Greyscape. Right as he was about to swing, one of the shadows bumped into him, knocking the mace out of his hands.

             “Mother-” Remus, frustrated, cursed under his breath, trying to look for where he had dropped his prized tool in the dim light just to have another ice-cold body clash with his shoulder and wing, hard enough to knock him over.

             The duke sat up quickly and shivered, the wonderfully uncomfortable feeling of ice claws digging into his skin. Another silhouette slipped past him, making his whole body shudder with the urge to flinch away, yet, this was what Remus was made of. The things that made people uncomfortable. Another went around him, and then another brushed up against him increasing the unexplainably terrible feeling. Another, another, until it reached the point where Remus was barely keeping himself from curling up from all the pins and needles sinking into his skin, like his whole body had fallen asleep! He couldn’t decide whether he was enjoying it or not until another figure went past him, except this time, a wave of warmth washed away a little bit of the ice shards, surprising both him and the other figure.

             He turned around, to see the only other creature with any color to their skin. It was a fairly big form; four legs, long whip-like tail, patchy, dark purple fur, dragon-like claws on the ends of each leg, a dog-like snout, two foggy, bloodshot, pink eyes that painfully sunk into its skull, a pair of harshly damaged wings and extremely long, bat-like ears with sharp tufts at each end. You could see its bones through its fur. It looked half-dead… It looked… so ugly… and Remus loved it.

             The creature drew closer, appearing to sense something coming from the duke.

             Momentarily, Debaja saw all three of her friends surround the green side; Physical Pain, Emotional Turmoil, and Mental Instability, and knew this person needed her help immediately.

             She took a few more steps forward, and Remus did the same out of curiosity.

             “Who the hell are you?” The duke cocked his head to the side.

             “Debaja…” Her weak voice responded as she used her jaw to speak, despite it constantly trembling.

             “Debaja huh? My name’s Remus. You don’t look too fresh, Debaja…” Remus commented, quirky smile undeniable. “What kind of party did you go to??”

             “Abandoned by My Sibling Party. How about you? You look like everything’s gone to shit.” Debaja sat down and the duke did the same, facing each other as their voices echoed off the empty beings around them.

             Remus was slightly taken aback by the creature’s unfiltered, deep tone, and, despite longing to find a creature of this status for so long, the green side felt uncomfortable and even a little frightened at how calm and dismissive Debaja’s voice was in comparison to her harsh outlook. But yet again, Remus was loving all of it at the same time.

             “I just got back from that party too…” The mustached man admitted, his shoulder’s slumping over as his characteristically wide smile dropped to a tired frown. “Except mine had a song in it which refers to a walking butthole singing while judging a sinning sexdoll. My brother just can’t seem…”

             The comfort monster took a chance and slid behind the duke as he began to rant, the opportunity too great to miss.

             Remus was confused before he felt both sets of claws resting on his shoulders. Just the presence of the digits made him shiver as warmth began spread through his body.

             The Master of Chaos, the side that makes everyone uncomfortable, the literal BAD side of Creativity was leaning back into another creature he didn’t even know, more relaxed than he had ever been.

             The purple half was shocked by the waves of comfort flowing off the duke in such grand amounts. Debaja hadn’t even started the massage for Christ’s sake! When she did snap out of her surprise, and started to actually massage the green side’s shoulders, the relaxed grunt that came from him was good enough to fill the monster’s hunger for weeks.

             Oh, this was nice. Remus being massaged by a stranger. A fellow unloved sibling, if you will. His whole body turned to spaghetti as Debaja dug her claws into his shoulder blades at the bases of his wings, where stress had been building up for god knows how long.

 “You’ve been hurt…” She noted, tracing her claws gently over a couple scars Remus had on his neck.

 “Yeah. Flaming swords were so much cooler in my head.” The duke retorted, melting back into the monster of comfort as he purred happily, not even remembering the last time he had felt this way.

 “You’re touch-starved.” Debaja commented yet again, feeling out Remus’s poor, cold and barren heart inside his chest.

 “Looks like I’m not the only one.” The green side couldn’t help the lazy smirk on his face. “You literally look like you’re starving, darling.”

 “Well, I feed off laughter and the feeling of comfort emitting from others. My sister has been deemed more important… depleting my chances of surviving by taking all the attention and starving me.

 “Oh, my sweet Tommity Thomas Sanders!” Remus exclaimed, almost in a drunk-like fashion with the purple monster’s claws still working out the last of the kinks in his back. “Same here! My brother is always the favored one! That red pain in the neck never has any time for me anymore!”

 “Did you say red?” Debaja paused her massage, though Remus still rolled his head back and smiled up at her like an idiot.

 “Yes! The great prince wears a red sash much like mine and a terrible white tunic underneath. How does he keep that thing clean? Seriously, if I were to wear it, it would be PAINFULLY obvious what I do at night.” Remus looked up at the purple creature and saw a smile on her lips.

 “My sister met him.” She finally finished untying all the knots in the duke’s poor back, and, despite his longing whines, pulled away so they could face each other again.

 “Were you watching?” Remus waggled his eyebrows as Debaja rolled her eyes with a smirk.

 “No… we were… together then…” Remus’s smile immediately dropped.

 “Wait… don’t tell me you…” He trailed off, not being able to finish his thought, and reaching out towards the creature as if she would fade from his sight.

 “Yes… we’re usually one unit named Lucaja but… We spli-”

 “NO! Don’t say that word!” The green side covered his ears with a pained expression. “Please, PLEASE don’t say that word…”

 “Why…?” Debaja saw a concentration of her friend Pascal; Emotional Turmoil.

 “Me and my brother… we’ve been sp-sp-sp-… that… for a while… More than half our lives, in fact.” The mustached man put a hand to his face, trying to hide the tears building up in his eyes.

 “Do you believe your brother cares about you?” Debaja put a comforting claw on Remus’s back as he shook his head.

 “I literally told him that I could help him, and that, in the end it would help both of us but… he screamed at me…” He sulked.

 “My sister did the exact same thing…” Debaja started to give in to her own grief as they both sat, leaned against each other in a silent understanding. “Well, at least it’s good to know I’m not alone…”

 “Yeah…” The green side smiled slightly, just to have it fall again. “No one likes me in my realm. If I end it all, it’ll end my brother, too… and finally get those butt-tight light sides to understand the meaning of balance!” He grinned madly, staring at his own hands and momentarily breaking away from the cuddle.

 “It’s not worth it. Plus, it’ll just make you look like the bad guy.” Debaja reflected on her own thoughts of the action, shaking her head as if to clear it of all the terrible voices in her head. “I came here to end it all… but if balance must be maintained, then I guess I should go back… probably just to be yelled at again…”

 Debaja gets up to walk away but the duke desperately grasps at her fur, not wanting her to leave.

 “None of them thought to talk to me, let alone touch me…” He started to curl in on himself, no longer trying to hide his pain.

 “So, that’s why the mere presence of my claws on your back filled me with so much of your comfort.” The purple monster turned back around and curled around the duke, making him wince with the urge to latch onto the warmth.

 “So, you feed off of comfort?” Remus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity pricked as he realized the poor monster looked slightly less starved than before.

 “Yes. Relief, relaxation, contentment… but there is this one other thing me and my sister get very rarely, and that’s laughter. It feels like the equivalent to candy whenever one of us absorbs it.” Debaja leaned into the green side more, and he finally gave in, wrapping his arms around the purple creature and surrounding himself in warmth.

 “Ew, candy…” Remus wrinkled up his nose in disgust. “I much prefer the good ol’ bleach.

 “You know that’s bad for you…” Debaja raised an eyebrow at him.

 “So is candy.” Remus smirked with playfulness in his eyes.

 Reflecting that playfulness, Debaja decided to slightly knead at the duke’s ribs as he flinched violently.

 “Hahahahahahahah…” He started to chuckle, giving Debaja a little taste of her candy. She went into hunt mode to find the rest of her prized desert.

 “Ah! Ahahahahahaha! W-waihihit! Ihihih-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus started cackling like a mad man when Debaja reached a specific sweet spot on his sides with her claws digging harder, but he wouldn’t dare let go of her to give up the warmth currently sheltering him.

 In full honesty, Remus was loving the attention. He was just surprised by the feeling. He hadn’t been touched in such a long time, let alone tickled. Meanwhile Debaja was enjoying the equivalent of a triple-decker chocolate cake as she pinned him, trying to find the duke’s other spots.

 Remus started squeaking, snorting, hiccupping, giggling and shrieking as Debaja tickled his neck all the way down to his stomach. She tweaked his hips, making him squeal. Where else could she tease?

 “W-WAIHIHIHIHI- NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus started to beg as Debaja turned around took off his shoes, zeroing in on his worst spot as her tail continued to tickle both the sweet spots on his sides.

 “N-NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! PLEHEHEHEHASE!” The duke realized how ridiculous he sounded, but couldn’t help but plea as the monster used her claws and wings to scratch and flutter as his soles and toes, all the while her tail was still tormenting his sides. The mixture of all the different types of tickling all at once quickly started driving the poor green side insane, if that were even possible for someone like Remus.

 “AAAIIIIIEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” He begged, not knowing how much longer he could last. The feeling was crazily confusing. Did he like it? Did he hate it? He couldn’t answer that even if he wasn’t being tormented there and then.

 (Un)fortunately, someone else heard Remus’s shouts.

 “GET OFF HIM!” Debaja was suddenly thrown across the clearing as a flash of red twirled past.

 Remus groaned and rode out the last of his giggles quickly, turning to see Debaja whimpering and cowering on the ground with his brother standing over her threateningly.

 “Ro, what are you doing here?” He asked, his happy, confused, light-hearted mood immediately ruined.

 “What, am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?!” Both Roman and Remus pointed fingers at each other, mirroring the Spiderman meme for a moment. “Coming out here to kill yourself?!”

 “Dammit, that snake…” Remus cursed, realizing Deceit sold him out.

 “Also, what the heck is that?!” Roman pointed at Debaja angrily as she slowly got back up on her feet, shaking from shock.

 “That’s my new friend, who ALSO just so happens to be a fellow unloved sibling!” The green side snapped.

 “Don’t you recognize me?” Debaja murmured softly, all her strength gone now, though her form itself looked much better.

 “Wha…?” Roman turned around, confused.

 “Yeah, you met her sister apparently. Spoiled sibling meets spoiled sibling.” Remus rolled his eyes and walked over to Debaja, kneeling down and checking her over to make sure she wasn’t injured, though she flinched away from his touch slightly.

 “Hey!” Roman scoffed at the offense, but paused to look at the creature… she DID look familiar… And the way Remus was worriedly checking her over…

 “Wh-what was going on when I entered?” He asked, his voice slightly weaker and uncertain.

 “Debaja was helping me feel better, at the same time, I was feeding her. Her and her sister recently… split…” Roman shuddered at the word. “And I wanted to be there for her. Sure, they may be separated, but I have a feeling she hasn’t been abandoned yet. I don’t want her to end up like me, Roman. Abandoned… It’s too late for me…” Remus pet Debaja ever so softly as she whined, listening to his words. “It’s far too late…”

 “It doesn’t have to be…” Roman took a step forward. “Do you think you could… give me another chance? I know it’s not going to be easy, but… if you’re able to forgive me… we might be able to fix this mess… and at least make you and The Others a higher priority so you don’t feel the need to do something like this…” As Roman took more steps toward them, Remus snarled at first, but when Roman held out his hand, the duke took it with such desperation it nearly yanked both of them to the ground.

 Roman pulled up his brother and embraced him, something he should have done a long time ago…

 He wasn’t surprised when he felt the duke’s chest heave and gentle sobs come from over his shoulder. In fact, Roman was crying, too.

 Debaja watched the scene unfold, never wanting to be with her sister more… But if things went downhill, she would be back here again. And next time, there won’t be a Remus or Roman to convince her to go back…

 “Don’t worry, purple one…” Roman called to her amongst his grief, as if reading her mind. “I’ll stay up tonight so you can visit. That way, we’ll know if you’re okay.”

 She smiled and nodded, turning around and heading back to The Land of the Infinite.

 “We should be going back home as well…” Roman murmured and Remus nodded as both brothers walked out of the Greyscape, fingers intertwined.

 …

 “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, where is she…?” Roman paced and muttered. It was 1:30 am now, and there was still no sign of Sleep Deprivation Monster.

 “Just give it some more time, we don’t know if they had the shits or not…” Remus commented, smiling at Roman’s grimace.

 “Lovely image, Remus.”

 “Why, thank you.”

 “Ahem…”

 Both sides of Creativity snapped their heads around and saw the magnificent Lucaja, in one piece yet again.

 “Did you miss me?”

 @cefsticklestoo @bexxbeauty