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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

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Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction.

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

“May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble - but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Loki/Reader #Loki/You #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Arranged Marriage #Writing #Marvel #Asgard

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lumosinlove · 3 years

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Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

#between fifth and you lumosinlove #lumosinlove #gossipgirl!au #wolfstar #wolfstar au #o'knutzy #hazelverse #harry potter #Harry Potter au

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Chilling in Yiling

We start off with Wei Wuxian hanging out in a busy area of Yiling, which is a really dumb place to pick for a fugitive rendezvous.

He's wearing a fashionably distressed brown robe, and a woven disguise hat, that makes him invisible to his enemies until the moment he takes it off, kinda like the mask he wears in his second life. Unfortunately he is a polite boi so he takes off the disguise hat when he goes indoors to get a bite to eat, and promptly gets smacked down by Wen Zhuliu.

Xiao Zhan's stunt double is really good at this wire-pull+table-smash move; this is the second time Wei Wuxian goes crashing through a table (the first one being when Yu Ziyuan was beating him). This time he clutches his now core-less abdomen, in a move we're going to be seeing a lot of, going forward. Abdominal surgery is a bitch. OP can personally attest to this.

Wen Zhuliu provides some comic relief by looking at his hand in puzzlement; he clearly can tell Wei Wuxian has no golden core, but he isn't going to bother telling Wen Chao that.

Wen Chao gloats and steps on Wei Wuxian's hand while Wei Wuxian stares at his shoe and OP wonders, not for the first time, how they make rubberized zig-zag treads in Ancient Fantasy China.

(more after the cut)

This is all happening in the Yiling Wine house where Wei Wuxian will later share the most important meal of his life, the one in which A-Yuan lays claim to Lan Wangji, ultimately giving LWJ a reason to live long enough for Wei Wuxian to be resurrected. If that doesn’t deserve a good Yelp review, nothing does.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

While Wei Wuxian gets ready for his big whump scene, Jiang Cheng is dreaming, and looking absolutely breathtaking in this deceptively simple robe, that's made of a really complex fabric, that catches the light all over its surface. The lighting here is warm and romantic, giving everything a nostalgic glow.

He looks around the courtyard in his dream, and sees Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian come running in the gate carrying kites.

A child fetching a kite was the first casualty of the Wen attack on Lotus Pier, so this image may already be a little fraught for Jiang Cheng. In this initial image of his family, Jiang Cheng isn't present as a child, but then his junior self comes running up, to be warmly greeted by his mother.

Jiang Cheng's reaction to the scene playing out in front of him is not a simple one. We've seen him externally expressing his trauma at the fate of Lotus Pier and his family - his anger and his despair - and this dream shows us his private, interior trauma.

His body has been repaired by Wei Wuxian and the Wens, but his psyche has not.

This family interaction can't possibly be one that ever happened. It's too lively, too affectionate, too comfortable. The family he was part of as a young adult was cold, angry, cracked. Families don't change that much in 10 years, unless there's a major trauma that alters things in a fundamental way.

Even the glimpses we got of his childhood contradict this image. This warm group is not the family of "I sent your dogs away" or "wait in the cold until Jiang Cheng lets you in" or "I won't tell Clan Leader Jiang what happened" or "I'm only 11 but I'm in charge of soup and bedtime already"

Jiang Cheng smiles at the affection he sees enacted in front of him, but quickly moves to grief. When a toxic person dies, you don't just lose the relationship you had with them; you lose the hope for a better relationship. Perhaps Jiang Cheng has always imagined this version of his family; now nothing like it can ever come to be.

The pleasant scene vanishes into nightmare, as his mother starts bleeding from her eyes, ew. This is like Nie Mingjue when he qi deviates, but dream Yu Ziyuan is perfectly chill about it.

Jiang Cheng is not perfectly chill about it.

He turns around to see Lotus Pier burning. When he turns back, his family has been replaced with Wen Zhuliu, who is particularly gleeful as he reaches into Jiang Cheng's chest and melts his core.

Jiang Cheng wakes up on the mountain, alone (as far as he knows), and quickly stands and boots up his new golden core.

It's purple, because of course it is. King. The nightmare is gone and he smiles, maybe for the first time since the attack on the pier.

In a moment that is probably going to feel really embarrassing in hindsight, he kneels and bows toward the mountaintops to thank Baoshan Sanren, who is totally not there.

Wen Ning, on the other hand, is there, although we only see a little bit of his belt and robe as Jiang Cheng walks off to Yiling to meet his brother. This entire plotline walks a very weird line in which the audience is told just enough about what’s really happening to be confused, but not surprised.

Do the Whumpty Whump

After some initial roughing up, Wen Chao has his dudes stand Wei Wuxian up so he can question him without actually getting any information out of him at all. They take turns calling each other dogs, with Wei Wuxian saying that when Wen Chao talks he just hears a dog barking. (Of course if he really heard a dog barking he'd be terrified)

Then he says "isn't that right" to Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Chao gets super pissed; don't disrespect me to my woman.

He has his minions do a Nancy Kerrigan to Wei Wuxian's knee and then kick him for a while.

Then they kick the shit out of the camera operator.

Wen Chao is really not about fighting his own fights. He also keeps threatening to have Wen Zhuliu melt Wei Wuxian's core, and Wen Zhuliu keeps popping up his hand and then putting it back when Wen Chao changes his mind, which gets more hilarious every time I watch it. Feng Mingjing’s physical embodiment of Wen Zhuliu is endlessly entertaining, even in scenes where he has literally no lines.

I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost

Wei Wuxian continues to goad Wen Chao, telling him that more torture is good because then he'll die with loads of resentment. He says that after he dies, he will come back as a ferocious ghost, which is...almost exactly what happens, except he stays alive for the ferocious part.

They go back and forth about the feasibility of this whole haunting plan. Wang Lingjiao is the voice of reason, for once, arguing the "ghosts aren't real and anyway fuck this guy" position.

Wen Chao thinks that he can’t haunt them because of cultivator security hardening procedures soul-calming rituals, but Wei Wuxian wasn't born into a gentry family so didn't have the anti-fierce-ghost treatment that other cultivators get.

This is the only time in the whole of the show when Wei Wuxian says, himself, that he's the son of a servant. He's using his reputation as a commoner to bolster his threats.

Wei Wuxian is working hard to put on a scary-guy persona, which works pretty well on Wang Lingjiao but not as much on the rest of the group. Three months from this time, however, he will have become the scary, vengeful creature he's currently spitballing about. He will also become way, way better at torture than the people who are currently mistreating him.

Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao go through a whole sequence of ideas about what to do with him. For whatever reason Wang Lingjiao doesn't insist on chopping his arm off even though she's been craving it for ages.

She does gleefully burn his burn some more, causing it to bleed directly into the giant obvious bag he has hanging from his belt leaking resentful energy. Which the Wens do not take away or search.

Wen Chao, incidentally, starts calling him Wei Ying during this encounter, which is rude of him. Tch. Finally Wen Chao decides on a plan, which involves sword-flying effects so terrible that no soul can survive them.

Jiang Cheng is looking for Wei Wuxian in town, wearing a woven hat like Wei Wuxian’s. This...is not a disguise. If you want to be inconspicuous, maybe take that giant piece of silver off of your head.

He hears random people talking about the Wens being in town, and then he apparently looks up at the sky and sees the Wen dudes flying on their swords with Wei Wuxian, but it looks so ridiculous that Jiang Cheng's mind cannot process what he is seeing.

While they "fly," Wen Chao delivers a massive brick of exposition about the burial mounds, while Wei Wuxian looks genuinely frightened. The VFX of random, undifferentiated mountaintops and clouds do nothing to sell this menace, but the exposition is actually pretty good, creating a real sense of disturbance and threat.

Then they toss him in, and we go from the terrible VFX of sword flying to a visual effect that they mercifully did really well throughout the show - the black resentment smoke. This time it catches Wei Wuxian and holds him for a few moments, before dropping him the rest of the way to the ground. It also apparently pulls the turtle sword out of his belt bag, but we don't see that part.

They Say That Every Man Must Fall

Having seen Wei Wuxian at his lowest point (so far) and dream Jiang Cheng also in deep distress, we go to the Dafan Wen sibs, who have also reached a breaking point. Because they helped Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, they are traitors to their clan - unquestionably so - and are being punished for it, with Wen Ning having been tortured in addition to being locked up.

I see my light come shining From the west down to the east Any day now, any day now I shall be released

You know how Lan Xichen successfully argued for Wen-Clan-Member Meng Yao's life and status, because Meng Yao betrayed Wen Ruohan to help them? Even though Meng Yao killed a bunch of Nie guys? Wen Ning and Wen Qing also betrayed Wen Ruohan and helped the Sunshot Campaign, without killing a bunch of guys. They should have been treated as allies by the four other clans, but they got diddly.

I’ve Been Dead Once

We return to Wei Wuxian in the burial grounds, where he's lying on the ground surrounded by resentful energy and by strained, desperate voices calling his name. This whole sequence is remarkable, since it effectively communicates the horror he's experiencing, through little more than Xiao Zhan's face and good sound design.

I hang around dying to be tortured You'll never be alone in the bone orchard

The voices call four versions of his name. A variety of voices call him Wei Wuxian, Wei Gongzi, and Shixiong, which (I think) is what the young Jiang disciples would have called him. And in the midst of those voices, Lan Wangji's voice, low and calm, saying "Wei Ying." Upon hearing that Wei Wuxian starts to drag himself up.

For a show with definitely no zombies in it, they sure do use the visual language of zombie films for Wei Wuxian's first motions after hitting the ground. Starting with twitching fingers, then gradually pulling himself halfway up and crawling, lurching across the ground. Wei Wuxian comes slowly back to life, the very first member of his army of the dead.

He makes his way across the ground toward the floating turtle sword. Along the way he accidentally grabs the world's most bowlegged thigh bone; the lack of sunshine in the burial mounds puts the skeletons at risk for rickets. All of the skeletons in the show are exactly what you would expect from the practical effects team that made the demon hand and the animatronic dog.

The turtle sword is roiling with resentful energy, and is talking to Wei Wuxian as he crawls toward it, asking if he wants revenge. And what a coincidence, he DOES want revenge.

He grabs the sword and plunges it into the ground in an explosion of resentful energy. (Ground: why you gotta take it out on me?)

The sequence ends with the most compelling, ominous shot of Wei Wuxian's face...a new man.

Soundtrack: 1. I Shall Be Released by Bob Dylan 2. Beyond Belief by Elvis Costello

Writing Prompt: The Day Wei Wuxian arrived, from the POV of a Burial Mounds ghost.

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #wei wuxian #burial mounds #jiang cheng

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dr3am-t3am · 4 years

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dteam wing!au, bc literally nobody can stop me.

my brain spit this out this morning, and i was like “i could make this and nobody could stop me” and now it exists. i put so much less thought than i should’ve into this. i dont even care. if anybody asks, this is inspired by “Minecraft, but we’re always flying” or something, but that’s not true i just wanted to draw the boys with wings.

some notes under the cut:

- Dream was definitely the design i actually thought about the most. I wanted something fast and maneuverable for him, but not super expected (like a falcon or something, which is kind of a moot point considering the other two are super stereotypical wing designs, but also do i really care? no.) so I was thinking something like a kingfisher or a hummingbird at first, but that didn't really fit either, and plenty of birds are fast but not really agile. I then went into swifts, which are the fastest horizontal flying birds and are. super fast and maneuverable,, but guess what? they aren't the fastest horizontal flying animals.

- bats are.

- these tiny bats go around flying at 100 mph, making crazy turns and such all the while. theyre insane.

- Brazilian free-tailed bats ! look them up

- anyways i didn’t want to use bats at first bc stereotypical “evil” connotations combined with dream’s,, uh,, tendencies? (every manhunt vid, but especially speed runner v. mutant. you Know.) seemed like a super cliche take, but like come on. it worked too well. crazy bat boy doing crazy bat boy things. imagine the pun potential.

- so anyways. he’s a bat.

- to be honest, I dont know what universe this would really exist in, real life or minecraft, but both have a lot of potential so. i might do more with this, because i supposedly made this up based on “minecraft but we’re always flying” i’ll put it in the mc world for now but like. both seem like too much fun

- anyways

- Dream is as I said, crazy bat boy. He is still minorly afraid of heights,, not as much as he probably is in real life but like,, he isn’t the most comfortable with them. He does love flying though, and in typical bat fashion he does a lot of dodging and weaving through trees and other crazy stunts. Bat wings are super jointed and flexible, so he’s able to weave through super busy landscapes pretty easily,, much to George and Sapnap’s chagrin

- George is a barn owl ! Partly bc though I know nothing about harry potter but i know owls are a thing with wizards and stuff in general, and george is apparently The harry potter nerd in the dteam, and partly bc owls are the bird equivalent to cats and george is a cat if you've ever seen one. also, his stupid goggles look like giant owl eyes. it works ok ?

- he’s not as fast a flier as dream and sapnap, but he’s still a very effective hunter. he can fly Silently and he uses that to his advantage a Lot. unfortunately, he’s still colorblind, but he’s still got really good vision. his night vision, especially, is super good, as is his hearing

- george has. Lorge wings. he’s pretty average size, same as in real life, but he’s shorter than both dream and sapnap and has Massive wings. they’re super fluffy too, making them look even bigger, and the resulting image results in george looking pretty small for how Massive his wings are, like a child that hasn’t really grown into their clothes yet. they are the absolute best wings to cuddle with, even though he doesn’t do that often, and when he gets startled he raises them automatically to look a lot bigger than he actually is, in that owl way of becoming a circle. dream and especially sapnap find it hilarious.

- sapnap’s a red tailed hawk ! he seems to suit a bird of prey really well, and I associate the color red and orange with him a lot. Sapnap’s a great flier and very much enjoys screwing around in the sky, often way higher than dream and george really like to go up. He’s a fast enough flier, definitely faster than george, but nowhere close to Dream if they’re flying horizontally. However, he Can dive, and he can dive very very fast. He dive-bombs george Constantly, and sometimes manages to pull one on Dream if he and George do the planning beforehand. it doesn’t always work because Dream’s a little weasel and can maneuver himself out of place Fast once he notices, but they Have pulled it off a few times and his reactions are Golden.

- Sapnap is *pretty* chill, but if you trigger his territorial instincts then he can become and absolute pain to deal with. This, of course, is why you can very often find sapnap and dream flying and chasing each other because dream was being a little a-hole and stole sapnap’s stuff or something. (he’s also very protective of his friends, who he consider as his territory, or home, not that he’s gonna say it or anything.)

- when sapnap gets into Instinct Mode he also rarely does the red-tailed hawk screech, which usually is enough of a shock to kick him out of it as both george and dream laugh themselves silly. both george and dream get the most flak for being the loud ones,,, (not even bc of his bird, for george, but just bc. He’s George) but that Screech puts everyone else to shame,, it’s just,, So Loud.

- dream, when he isnt flying, is actually very protective of his wings. it’s not immediately obvious to the others, but because his wings are so small and maneuverable dream tends to fold them up and hide them under his clothes when he can, and otherwise keep them folded and away from everything else when he can’t. george has his wings folded about half of the time, and sapnap really never has his folded. they fly so much that it’s not super obvious, but dream’s wings are Delicate and full of tiny bones and joints thank u very much and he’s very protective of them

- both george and sapnap have feathers along their back and neck that will raise when they’re alarmed or scared. dream doesn’t, but his hair is Extremely fluffy and fine, to the point of almost seeming like fur instead of hair.

- both dream and george lean towards a nocturnal sleep schedule, and sapnap basically grudgingly follows. they have a completely screwed up sleep schedule, just like real life. it be like that sometimes.

i’ll cut this off for now, but i have. more thoughts. we’ll see what becomes of them haha.

#dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamteam #dream team #mcyt #mcyt fanart #dteam wing!au #this is what ive been thinking about all day #myart #mywriting #i made the illustrations really quickly so theyre kinda messy #i like them anyways #this was fun #tell me if you want to see more !

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stardewvalley-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Stardew Valley playlists

Sam

• Green Day - 21st Century Breakdown

• Post Malone - Circles

• Ozzy Osbourne - Ordinary Man

• Goo Goo Dolls - Iris

• Queen - You're My Best Friend

• Billy Joel - We Didn't Start The Fire

• Ice Cube - It Was A Good Day

• 2Pac - How Do You Want It

• Mighty Mighty Bosstones - Knock On Wood

• Falling in Reverse - Losing My Mind

• Golden Children - Paper Bag Interlude

I feel like Sam would have the most diverse Music. He would mostly listen to alternative music. And he would listen to older stuff from the 80s and 90s. Like 90s hip hop, or 80s rock.

Harvy

• Weezer - Buddy Holly

• Luminaries - Ophelia

• Plain White Ts - 1234

• Owl City - Hot Air Ballon

• Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

• Vance Joy - Mess Is Mine

• Phillips Phillips - Home

Harvy is a basic man. I imagine him liking folk music and things that just calm him down. (I'm sorry if its not accurate. I dont really like harvy all that much but I still wanted to put him in here because I know some people like him. Please tell me what I can fix)

Sebastian

• Palaye Royale - Mr. Doctor Man

• Savage Ga$p - Pumpkins Scream In the Dead Of The Night

• Hale Storm - Freak Like Me

• Rob Zombie - Dracula

• Fredie Dredd - Weather

• Green Day - Holiday/Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

• Falling in Reverse Losing My Life

• Solence - Black Out

• Five Finger Death Punch - A Little Bit Off

• Kamelot - Liar Liar

Sebastian gets most of his music tast from Sam but as they got older Sam expanded his music taste while Seb stayed in the rock genre. He doesn't mind Rap or Alternate and sometime he will listen to rap on his own when he is in the mood.

Elliott

• Vance Joy - Saturday Sun

• Alrighty Aphrodite

• Conan Grey - Idle Town

• Joe Hisaishi - Merry-Go-Round Of Life

• Cold Play - Sparks

• Elvis Presley - I Can't Help Falling In Love With You

• Yiruma - Rivers Flow Into You

Elliott Is a chill dude. I feel like most of his music is for wrighting and paino songs he likes to play.

Alex

• Adventure Time/Olvia Olson - Everything Stays

• The 1975 - I Always Wanna Die

• MGMT - Kids

• Motion City Soundtrack - Everything is Allright

• Falling In Reverse - Comming Home

• Conan Grey - Heather

• Aireey - Under The Moon

• Hale Storm - Here's To Us

• Quickly Quickly - Getsomerest

• Green Day - Ordnary World

I feel like Alex would use music as an escape without realizing it. He loves Everything Stays because he has issues with people leaving him and that song is just so beautiful and can really make anyone happy. He would listen to it the day his mom died and remeber that no matter what she will still be there for him in his heart and nothing will change that. Like imaging him him listening to this song while holding the Farmer or his kids or grandparents in a hug. And I can see Adventure time being his favorite show and him wanting to do something great like Finn. The rest of the Playlist is about getting better and comming to terms with your self and giving yourself a break. Last thing is that I feel like his mom would listen to Alternative music and his dad hated it so he would just listen to it just to spite him. (Sorry it's so long I really love Alex with all my heart.)

Shane

• Ozzy Osybourne - Crazy Train

• Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall

• Poison - Every Rose has Its Thorn

• Queen / David Bowie - Under Presure

• Queen - Another One Bites The Dust

• Guns And Roses - Welcome to the Jungle

• Tom Petty - Free Fallen

• The Police - Every Breath You Take

• Bruce Springsteen- Dancing In The Dark

Shane would strictly listen to 80s rock. Likes to remeber when he was younger and life was just so much easier and less complex.

Elliott 2.0

• Just sea Shanties

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ihearthes · 3 years

Photo

Golden Rod

(inspired by Golden MV)

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (2nd person) Rating: Smut (18+ only) Word Count: 2829

“Thanks for the ride, Ryan!” you call, waving at Lambert’s assistant as he drives away to the garages on the Vesta. “Ciao!”

Excited to show Harry your new lingerie, you enter the villa where the team has been staying. “Is he done for the day, Ben?” The words are muffled behind the cloth mask you’ve insisted is essential despite the drop in Italy’s coronavirus cases.

The Fulwell 73 producer points upstairs without a word before bending over the video footage he’s scouring with the director. The opulent surroundings have been modernized, and you grin while mounting the stairs to the top floor where the master suite consumes the entire space. From the expansive open windows, you view the Tyrrhenian Sea, causing you to literally pinch yourself. How had life blessed you in such a way? Giddy, you continue up the stone steps.

Kicking off your sandals, you curl your toes into the cool, smooth tile. Fuck. This had been the perfect day. Swimming in the infinity pool during the morning with endless fresh fruits at your fingertips whenever you stepped out of the water to feel the warm sun on your skin. A socially distanced lunch of Insalata Di Mare Campanese (Seafood Salad) with Molly in a local restaurant. A trip to the stores with the adorable stylist Ryan -- where he’d introduced you to a new designer of gloriously sexy lingerie!

You’d bought four pieces.

Harry was going to love all of them, and you couldn’t wait to showcase them in your own private fashion show on the secure top floor of the Italian villa.

Stopping in the marbled bathroom, you draw in a deep breath at the chill on your heated feet. Quickly, you wash your hands, singing “Happy Birthday” twice like you’d been taught to ensure 20 seconds has elapsed. No way were you going to be responsible for inadvertently passing along the virus to your boyfriend during the Golden music video shoot. He’d end up missing out on filming the music video and the upcoming Don’t Worry Darling if he tested positive. Carefully removing your mask, you toss it into the laundry hamper before washing your hands a second time.

Tiptoeing out of the bath, you wonder where the man of the hour might be. Napping? Nope. Not in the bed. On the loggia, you spy Harry settled in a chair, staring into space.

“Can’t blame you, Styles. That’s one hell of a view.” Gazing over the colorful boats moored in the sea near the coast, your eyes feast on the sky with its tints of reds, pinks, yellows, and oranges as the sun begins to sink into the water. Honestly, you expect to hear a sizzle as the bright ball of gases descends into the blue serenity of the sea.

“Indeed.” His quiet voice doesn’t sound normal for Harry, and you approach slowly, like one might a wounded deer. Wouldn’t want to frighten him away.

“Harry!” The gasp leaves your throat, and you press your hand to your mouth to capture the sound too late as it has already escaped. “What the hell happened to your knee?”

He shrugs, finally glancing in your direction. “Skinned it. Hi, love. Did you have a good day?”

“I had a beautiful day, but what the fuck did you do to your knee?” Crouching down, you examine the spot where blood is flowing. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but enough that you want to clean it. “My poor baby,” you coo, “Let me clean that for you.”

Rising, you glide to the bathroom again.

“Bring some ice too, love,” he requests, tacking on a “please” at the last minute.

Stopping in the suite’s tiny kitchen, you search the small freezer for ice as requested. Ransacking the cabinets in the bathroom, you manage to locate cotton balls, an antiseptic, and a bandage. Returning to Harry, you kneel at his feet. “This might sting a bit.” Cautiously, you cover the cotton ball with the antiseptic and press it to his wound.

He winces, but the only sound he releases is a mild hiss.

“Sorry, baby.”

“It’s not a big deal, love.”

As the blood vanishes with its absorption into the cotton ball, you agree with him. The wound is relatively minor. Should form a scab in the next day or so. Carefully, you remove the adhesive from the bandage and press it over the small scratch.

“Don’t worry, darling,” you tease, “you’ll heal soon enough.”

“Gonna run that one into the ground, aren’t you?” he jokes.

“Might as well,” your shrug, grinning. “Don’t worry, H. You’re so golden.” His smile gives away his mirth at the pun. “Soon enough, you’ll be done filming, and moving on to something else. And I’ll give you hell about whatever the next thing is too.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he confesses with intense eye contact, and your insides start to flutter.

As an afterthought, you hold up a bag of frozen peas. “No ice, H. I’m so American that I forgot Europeans don’t do much ice. Will this do?”

“Sure.” Grabbing the bag of peas, he smirks before placing it on his crotch.

You raise an eyebrow. “Your dick needs ice?”

His eyes rake over you. “Kind of went running without an athletic supporter today.”

Planting your hands on your hips, you glare at him. “Why would you damage the goods like that?”

Raising his shoulders, he grins, “The fans will love it.”

Your lower lip juts out as you pout at him. “Does that mean it’s off limits to me?”

“It’s sore, love. Not broken.” Harry emphasizes, but that doesn’t make you feel any better.

“But I’ve got lingerie,” you state clearly.

He sits up quickly, shifting the bag of frozen peas on his crotch. “You do?”

“Yep.” You allow the ‘P’ to pop. “Ryan introduced me to a new designer. I bought four sets.”

“Fuck,” he breathes.

“Not with your dick wounded,” you remind him with a tiny hitch in your breathy voice.

“Fuck,” he repeats.

“Should I model the first one or wait until tomorrow?” You’re definitely pushing the envelope here, yet how dare he give fans priority to his most precious bits?!

Eyes darkening, he sweeps his gaze over your light trousers and loose shirt. “Ummmm...now please.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want you to hurt your dick more.”

The exasperated roll of his eyes makes you smile. “I wanna see, love.”

Examining him, you come to the conclusion that he’s an adult and knows what he wants. With a nod, you grasp the handle of the bag from the designer. “Be right back!” Hurrying to the bedroom, you set the bag down before rummaging in it for the most sedate look: a white lacy baby doll bit that hits mid-thigh and comes with a long peignoir. Putting on frilly high heeled slipper with it, you strut in front of him with the robe tightly covering your body, watching as his eyes darken.

“Like this one?”

“Shit, love. It’s…”

When you part the edges to reveal the concoction underneath, Harry has to catch his breath, shifting in the seat as he adjusts the frozen peas.

“Hot?” you taunt.

“Mhm. Come here, and check my temperature.” His voice is throaty, and you recognize the signs quite easily.

“Nope. Three more to go before I get within touching distance, H. Sorry.”

“Dammit,” He mockingly shakes his head. “You know I could easily see all of them on separate nights. Let’s just start with this one.”

Purposely, you push your lip out in a pout. “But then the other lingerie would get jealous, and Ryan went to a lot of effort to get me a private viewing. After all, this stuff isn’t available to the general public.”

“No?” He sighs, and you catch the hitch in his comment. “Bring on the second one then.”

Confidently, you swagger from the room. With shaky hands, you withdraw the bright red lace camisole and boy short. Is this the appropriate one to wear next? The red might just push him over the edge. Best to stay out of his reach then. Smirking, you pull the outfit on and waltz onto the balcony with a twirl, your hair on pointe as its curls bounced with you.

“Holy fuck. That’s the second one?” His strangled cry makes you laugh in joy.

“How’s that cock feeling now?” you gesture in the direction of his crotch.

“The peas have melted I believe.”

“Mhm. Maybe you should go get something else from the freezer then.”

“Nah. I’d rather you come get this bag for me. I might be too injured to walk inside.”

“Oh, you’re so funny. I know this game. I get close to you, and the other two lingerie outfits never see the light of day. Nope. You want more frozen food for your genitals, you can get it yourself.” Laughing, you smack your rounded ass as you amble into the bedroom again.

“Fuck!” Harry yells behind you.

The dialogue combined with the strutting has your pussy feeling damp as the waves of arousal rush over you. Sure you’d fucked last night, but today was a new day, and you wanted to feel that dick inside you -- regardless of the damage he did by jogging in the city for the video.

The third one is pink -- and you’re well aware from experience how much Harry loves pink. The baby doll dress is silk and lands just at the top of your thighs with a black lace bodice that laces in the middle. Kind of laces anyway. Plenty of boob still visible. Or barely hidden. Whichever you prefer.

“Oh my god. You’re killing me!” Harry whines as you parade just out of his reach. When he starts to rise, you shake a finger at him.

“No, no, H. You need to recuperate from running today. Better stay seated.”

He chokes as you twist around to show him all sides, including the g-string with its bare backside.

“You’re evil!” he calls as you dance back into the bedroom.

This is the final one, and you prepare carefully. It takes extra time to put on, and you smile as you observe your image in the room’s mirror. Deftly, you slip a couple of condoms in the bodice of the bralette.

You find a playlist of romantic Italian music and set it to play on the Bluetooth speaker in the bedroom, ensuring the volume is high enough to be heard on the loggia.

Harry gasps the moment he sees you. “You’re not wearing anything under that!”

Playfully you glance down at the last lingerie set. “Oh, damn. I guess when I put the garter skirt and stockings on, I must have forgotten the panties. Forgive me?”

His head bobs up and down as he gulps.

“Now,” you murmur, approaching him. Grasping a pillow from a nearby chair, you plop it on the floor in front of him, settling on your knees there. “I think the best thing is if I take a look at this dick to make sure you didn’t do too much damage.”

Removing the no-longer-frozen peas, you toss the bag to the side. No one will be eating those. Ever. Silently, Harry waits while you carefully peel down the top of his elasticized shorts and remove his cock. You have to catch your breath every time you get to glimpse it, and today is no exception.

Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips as you hold his rigid length in your hand, your eyes flickering up to his where he’s staring intently at you. Maintaining eye contact, you run your tongue over the tip of his cock, paying extra attention to the slit there.

“Mmmm,” you murmur. “The tip seems to be okay. Let me check the length.”

Using your saliva as lubrication, you run your hands down his shaft to his balls. “Doesn’t appear to be broken,” you smirk, “In fact, seems pretty solid and firm to me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, “Might want to apply some suction there, love, just in case.”

You don’t really care what he means by that last phrase. You’re more than happy to test out the equipment to ensure that it’s in full working order. Spreading his legs more firmly, you lean in, sliding his entire dick into your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat. Harry grasps the hair at the back of your hand, bunching it in his hand as he guides you along his length. You hear him sigh, and you’re confident he’s tilted his head back and closed his eyes, but when you glance at him, you find that his eyes are still on your lips.

Fuck. It turns you on even more, and you can feel your pussy dripping onto the pillow. You make a mental note to remove the cover and wash it before leaving the villa.

As your lips glide along him, you’re frustrated at not having full access to him. As you apply suction to his tip, you pop off him with an audible sound. Both of your hands reach for the waistband of his shorts, and you gently encourage him -- “Lift your bum, H” -- so you can fully remove the garment, throwing it over your shoulder and hoping it doesn’t sail into the pool below. Harry smiles, adjusting his stance into the biggest man spread you’ve ever seen.

Before you return to your ministrations on his cock, you grasps your chin, drawing your face forward and upwards until he can lock lips with you.

“Not much longer, love, or I’ll explode.”

“I don’t mind,” you purr.

“Mhm. But if we’re fully going to test the equipment, then that should include more than a bj.”

“Ah, I see,” you grin. “But of course. We want to be thorough.”

First, though, you are compelled to play with his balls, so you take him into your mouth again, adding one hand to his length while the fingers on the other play with the balls underneath. Fuck. You could do this all day. Breathing through your nose, you deepthroat him and suck for a solid ten seconds before you release him completely.

With a grin, you stand, kicking aside the pillow. “Hmmmmm...trying to decide the best way to do this.” Your voice has a catch in it, and you wipe your mouth before bending over and capturing his lips in a searing kiss. Tongue darting forward, you taste him, allowing him to suckle your tongue briefly.

As you come up for air, Harry moves his legs together while slipping his hand between yours and nudging your legs apart. With one finger he teases your clit, flicking it from side to side as he watches your face and eases another digit inside you. Oh hell. This feels…

“Fuck, H.”

“You’re so tight, baby. Come sit here. Let’s test out the equipment. Make sure everything works properly.”

At his invitation, you step forward as he shifts his bum down on the chair a bit.

“Shit. I forgot…”

With his words, you remove the first condom from your bralette where it has conveniently been nuzzling your nipple, the hard corner of the foil packet hardening your nip.

Grasping his dick, he uses the tip to slap at your pussy a few times before using your internal juices to lubricate himself. Your eyes roll back into your head as the two of you work together so you can slide onto him without any additional moments wasted.

When you’re fully seated on his dick, you grind just for a moment.

“Hmmmm...seems sturdy enough,” you pant.

“Oh, you’re so funny,” he drawls, but his eyes roll back in his head when you glide along his length, your stockinged thighs surrounded by his large hands. “Fuck, love.”

“Working on it,” you laugh breathlessly as the rhythm becomes easier. His hands move to your arse as he assists you in riding him.

Draping your arms over his shoulders, you shake your tits in his face, and he grins as he bends his head to press a kiss at the juncture of your boobs.

As your climax begins to arrive, your movements become less steady and more sporadic. Harry, knowing you as he does, reaches between your bodies to tease your clit as you throw your head back and cry out two thrusts before his seed spurts into the condom and his eyes roll back into his head. Spent, you collapse on his chest, still joined.

“I think,” you whisper as you kiss his neck while playing with the curls at the nape of your neck, “we can agree that the equipment still works just fine. No damage here.” Picking up your head, you glare at him. “But no more, H! What’s mine is mine. The fans get enough of you.”

He laughs as his arms surround you, and he buries his head in your shoulder.

“Of course, love. Whatever you say.”

A/N: Reblogs are love, my readers. If you liked this even just a little tiny bit, please take a second to reblog so that others might find it. Getting likes is nice, but it doesn’t help me grow my readership. Thanks for your consideration!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #my writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #1d imagine #harry styles reader insert #original writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #sorry I'm so slow at getting this one finished!#please let me know what you think

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une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir · 3 years

Text

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious. Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

#asoiaf speculaion #i'm not going to tag these characters because the original theory isn't mine #i'm also not going to tag these characters because this isn't enough to warrant an entry on aegon vi targaryen week

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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 2 years

Note

Hey bestie. So I’m sorry if asking about H is annoying to you, you should totally not answer this if talking abt him makes u uncomfortable. But I value your opinion, even though I don’t agree w how harsh you can b on him(I understand it tho- to an extent. Kind of.)

I was wondering, do you think he was ever a really REALLY good person? Thing is - I joined the fandom this year in April. I joined cus of Larry Since they looked cute as fuck on a post I saw and that led to watching all those vids, streaming 1d, streaming their solos, etc. I was never fully sold on Larry once I started seeing the antis points tho- and I unlarried last month, thank god. I’m a louie now (w a sprinkle of Ziall), that man is the loml. But before I became a fan(and mind you I’ve never been in fandom this deep unless we count fictional stuff) - I always had this specific eh vibe from Harry, partly bc Of the fact that he’s besties w the karjenner klan(Kendall mostly), and I do not trust anyone who’s super close w them. Same way I don’t trust the hadids, many really huge celebs, etc. Not bc they’re plastic or rich cus mf I’d get surgery and buy a mansion too, just bc they’re SO out of touch w reality nd EVERY person who meets these huge celebs at events says they’re stuck up egotistical trash(not Taylor tho, never Tay).

But beside that- when I originally read articles abt Harry the homewrecker womanizer(even back in 2018 when I tried stanning/researching him but I just didn’t like his songs or 1Ds, I do now tho) I thought “ew…he’s a typical cheating rockstar,” and yet the articles were hyping him up which made me go ??? I know most ppl glorify this whole image of celebs being better than normal ppl in the vainest emptiest least significant ways,, but I never have so that’s why I couldn’t relate. Which is why the harries (and literally all stans) just made me roll my eyes.

Also his fans scared me off for years in the sense that they’re so - weird? Like why y’all SO obsessed w him? Why do y’all make such a big deal abt something as vain and unimportant as his fashion? Ofc some ppl are gonna think it’s weird to dress that way- and he shouldn’t be bullied for it but it’s clothes and he prolly don’t care abt that criticism. So why spend hours defending it? Why attack ppl who don’t think he looks sexy? Don’t make sense to me tbh. He’s not 18 yk, he won’t cry if some dudebros think he’s gay bc of dressing camp. Not that gay is an insult in any way- but u get what I mean. Hell the fact that his fans are so againts ppl calling him gay is weird to me but I get why they’d get mad at larries, cus we all know some overstep. I know the last point and being defensive over H is something that’s happened since 1D. And as far as important things abt him such as his honor, his image, the way he and the boys were treated by salmon/ psyco/mngmnt go; I completely understand getting defensive over it. I completely get him being ppls sex idol- cus I was 14 and into heartthrobs once too. Sex sells, unfortunately. But I just didn’t get why Harry fans are not only intense(in the way directioners were/are) but just downright mean to everyone else in the name of stanning someone who I think lost his SUPERDUPER stanable qualities after live on tour.

I actually like harrys music- golden is my jam. Fine line and others hit too. I love his voice- it’s powerful and he sounds great live (I did attend his concert in oct, kinda a 300$ regret now but aye I like his songs and it was fun so whatever), but I just don’t get WHY they Stan him so hard. I get why they did in the 1D years. I get why ppl still Stan Louis complex Tomlinson and zayn deep thinker Malik; as well as Niall unproblematic Horan(liams eh too I just don’t care for him), but after 2017 I don’t rlly get the Harry hype… does that make sense? I do think he was a person worth defending to this extent in 2010-2017,, especially 2010-2015. He just radiated loml energy those years- seemed like such a kind radiant human. I’m emotionally attached to all of the during those years even tho I wasn’t there- I can see why this fandom was so huge. I still ship 2010-2015 Larry and I honestly always will- even tho I’ll never know the full story- they just seem so compatible to me during those years. So pure and in love. And sings like ready to run and iicf, through the dark, and happily enforce that for me personally. But I wouldn’t truly know bc I wasn’t here for that. I’ve done my research but I’ve never talked to a veteran.

Do ppl today just Stan him cus he has dimples and beautiful eyes and curls and abs? Or cus of how humble and pure he seemingly once was? Or is it the charisma/music? Cus I don’t think charisma and music alone would make for such hardcore stans. Especially new stans. Cus harrys got the most hardcore stans next to t swift and BTS. The reason I and others Stan/ stanned one dead is cus the fandom feels like home. These boys felt like the most genuine real and sweet thing to ever happen to the industry- and no matter what I could never hate H. But I just don’t get what ppl see these days. Cus IMO nothing abt him feels that homey and connected anymore. His fandom doesn’t feel like a family outside of concerts to me(and in some the concerts ppl still throwing hands and bringing weird ‘fvck me daddy’ or Larry signs so💀that says something). He’s still a great entertainer and impecable on stage but paying 300+ dollars to see someone’s personality and actually b part of the fandom is kinda odd to me. What do you think? Ty for your service on this blog btw <3 And sorry for my long ass question and backstory xx

Hi,

[[MORE]]

People like me have been in the fandom too long, so it’s always good to have a different perspective!

Part of the reason I’m so hard on Harry might be because of what you said— he had so much promise in 1D, could have chosen to be a good person, he shone as a performer and he said so much warm and fuzzy shit, like, “'All five of you should be on the same page and the closest things to each other because around all five of you there are gonna be people that are gonna come and try to snatch you. People are gonna try to break you guys apart. So as long as you five are your best friends, that's the most important.’” Harry had lots of fandom support; he could have tried to bend industry to be SLIGHTLY better to audiences and SLIGHTLY better to future performers. But instead he chose to be one of the usual, “More for me. See you losers later.” That’s Harry’s general attitude toward anyone who can’t help him, really, including his peers. He said a lot of stuff but lives his life in an entirely opposite way: me me me me me.

I used to have a spark of hope that the Harry we see today wasn’t really him; any day now, Harry would show his true colors and be the compassionate, thoughtful person he seemed to be in 1D. But eventually, I realized that this is the real him— adult Harry, the one who values ONLY fame/wealth/connections, that’s the version that won.

(And because of this, I really can’t see any value in Harry’s music. George W. Bush probably is an okay artist, you know? I’m still not going to look at his art. Besides, I think Harry’s music is derivative and stolen.)

So to your other question— why do people like Harry so much? Why are Harries/ Larries so fanatical about him?

Either they like this narcissistic version — and many Harries actually do— or they are horny for him (fics contribute), or they have an imaginary Harry Styles in their heads that they don’t want to give up.

The last point is probably most salient to many fans (new and old). People want to believe in goodness, kindness, magic.

Some people have invested many years in being a fan. Some can’t give up their 1D memories. Many people share fandom friendships that are an integral part of their lives, and these would have to be broken — and it’s too hard. They’d rather pretend that Harry Styles is a good person than give up this part of their lives. Harry fills an emotional space, whether or not he’s actually good.

It’s delusional fantasy-making on a massive, collective scale, and the amount of money involved is staggering. I mean, the word “cult” isn’t far-fetched. People in a cult are to be studied, but also to be pitied. No matter how much they crave approval, the cult leader really doesn’t see them as individuals, only as pawns— sources of power and money. That’s how I see it. I’m sorry you had to spend money on Harry, but at least you realized.

Now a question for you. Why did you choose Louis? You could have chosen Zayn or Niall or just walked away from the fandom.

#I spent money on Harry too - too much to see his concert in 2017 #but luckily that’s the only concert of his I’ll ever see -#I’ve given away my Harry album #all the merch - sometimes brand new #he repulses me -

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flufffysocks · 3 years

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let's talk about andi mack's worldbuilding

sorry this took forever to make! i've been pretty busy with school stuff and i kind of lost my inspiration for a bit, but i ultimately really enjoyed writing it! i wish i could've included more pics (tumblr has a max of 10 per post), and it kinda turned from less of a mini analysis to more of an extremely long rant... but i hope it's still a fun read!

i've been rewatching the show over the past few weeks (thanks again to @disneymack for the link!), and i’ve been noticing a lot that i never did the first time around. this is really the first time i’ve watched the show from start to finish since it aired, and it honestly feels so different this time - probably a combination of the fact that i’m not as focused on plot and can appreciate the show as a whole, and also that the fandom is much, much smaller now, so there’s a lot less noise. so the way i’m consuming this show feels super different than it did the first time, but the show itself doesn’t - it’s just as warm and comforting to me as it was the first time around, if not more so.

i think a lot of that can be attributed to andi mack’s “worldbuilding”. i’m not quite sure that this is the right word in this context, to be honest, because i mostly see it used in reference to fantasy and sci-fi universes, but it just sort of feels right to me for andi mack, because you can really tell how much love and care went into constructing this universe. for clarity, worldbuilding is “the process of creating an imaginary world” in its simplest sense. there’s two main types: hard worldbuilding, which involves inventing entire universes, languages, people, cultures, places, foods, etc. from scratch (think “lord of the rings” or “dune”), and soft worldbuilding, in which the creators don’t explicitly state or explain much about the fictional universe, but rather let it’s nature reveal itself as the story progresses (think studio ghibli films). andi mack to me falls in the soft worldbuilding category. even though it takes place in a realistic fiction universe, there’s a lot of aspects to it that are inexplicably novel in really subtle ways.

so watching the show now, i’ve noticed that the worldbuilding comes primarily from two things - setting and props, and oftentimes the both of them in tandem (because a big part of setting in filmmaking does depend on the props placed in it!).

one of the most obvious examples is the spoon. it really is a sort of quintessential, tropic setting in that it's the main gang's "spot", which automatically gives it a warm and homey feel to it. and its set design only amplifies this:

the choice to make it a very traditional 50s-style diner creates a very nostalgic, retro feel to it, which is something that's really consistent throughout the show, as you'll see. from the round stools at the bar, to the booths, to the staff uniforms, this is very obvious. the thing that i found especially interesting about it though is the choice of color. the typical 50s diner is outfitted with metallic surfaces and red accented furnishings, but the spoon is very distinctly not this.

instead, it's dressed in vibrant teal and orange, giving it a very fresh and modern take on a classic look. so it still maintains that feeling of being funky and retro, but that doesn't retract from the fact that the show is set distinctly in modern times.

of course, this could just be a one-off quirky set piece, but this idea of modernizing and novelizing "retro" things is a really common motif throughout the show. take red rooster records. i mean, it's a record shop - need i say more? it's obviously a very prominent store in shadyside, at least for the main characters, but there's no apparent reason why it is (until season 2 when bowie starts working there, and jonah starts performing there). a lot of the time, though, it functions solely as a record shop. vinyl obviously isn't the most practical or convenient way of listening to music, but it's had its resurgence in pop culture even in the real world, mostly due to its aesthetic value, so it's safe to say that it serves the same purpose in the andi mack universe.

the fringe seems to be nostalgic of a different era, specifically the Y2K/early 2000s period (because it's meant to be bex's territory and symbolic of who she used to be, and its later transformation into cloud 10 is representative of her character arc, but that's beside the point). to be honest, exactly what this store was supposed to be always confused me. it was kind of a combination party store/clothing store/makeup store/beauty parlor? i think that's sort of the point of it though, it's supposed to feel very grunge-y and chaotic (within the confines of a relatively mellow-toned show, of course), and it's supposed to act as a sort of treasure chest of little curios that both make the place interesting and allow the characters to interact with it.

and, of course, there's andi shack. this is really the cherry on top of all of andi mack's sets, just because it's so distinctly andi. it serves such amazing narrative purpose for her (ex. the storyline where cece and ham were going to move - i really loved this because it highlights its place in the andi mack universe so well, and i'm a sucker for the paper cranes shot + i'm still salty that sadie's cranes didn't make it into the finale) and it's the perfect reflection of andi's character development because of how dynamic it is (the crafts and art supplies can get moved around or switched out, and there's always new creations visible).

going back to the nostalgia motif though, the "shack" aspect of it always struck me as very treehouse-like. personally, whenever i think of treehouses, there's this very golden sheen of childhood about it, if that makes sense. i've always seen treehouses in media as a sort of shelter for characters' youthful innocence and idealistic memories. for example, the episode "up a tree" from good luck charlie, the episode "treehouse" from modern family, and "to all the boys 2" all use a treehouse setting as a device to explore the character's desire to hold onto their perfect image of their childhood (side note: this exact theme is actually explored in andi mack in the episode "perfect day 2.0"!). andi shack is no exception to this, but it harnesses this childhood idealism in the same way that it captures the nostalgia of the 50s in the spoon, or the early 2000s in the fringe. it's not some image of a distant past being reflected through that setting; it's very present, and very alive, because it reflects andi as she is in the given moment.

some honorable mentions of more one-off settings include the ferris wheel (from "the snorpion"), the alley art gallery (from "a walker to remember"), SAVA, the color factory (from "it's a dilemna"), and my personal favorite, the cake shop (from "that syncing feeling").

[every time i watch this episode i want to eat those cakes so bad]

these settings have less of a distinctly nostalgic feel (especially the color factory, which is a very late 2010s, instagram era setting), but they all definitely have an aura of perfection about them. andi mack is all about bright, colorful visuals, and these settings really play to that, making the andi mack universe seem really fun and inviting, and frankly very instagrammable (literally so, when it comes to the color factory!).

props, on the other hand, are probably a much less obvious tool of worldbuilding. they definitely take up less space in the frame and are generally not as noticeable (i'm sure i'll have missed a bunch that will be great examples, but i'm kind of coming up with all of this off the top of my head), but they really tie everything together.

for example, bex's box, bex's polaroid, and the old tv at the mack apartment (the tv is usually only visible in the periphery of some shots, so you might not catch it at first glance) all complement that very retro aesthetic established through the settings (especially the polaroid and the tv, because there's really no good reason that the characters would otherwise be using these).

besides this, andi's artistic nature provides the perfect excuse for plenty of colorful, crafty props to amplify the visuals and the tone. obviously, as i discussed before, andi shack is the best example of this because it's filled with interesting props. but you also see bits of andi's (and other people's) crafts popping up throughout the show (ex. the tape on the fridge in the mack apartment, andi's and libby's headbands in "the new girls", walker's shoes, andi's phone case, and of course, the bracelet). not only does doing this really solidify this talent as an essential tenet of andi's character, but it also just makes the entirety of shadyside feel like an extension of andi shack. the whole town is a canvas for her crafts (or art, depending on how you want to look at it. i say it's both), and it immensely adds to shadyside's idealism. because who wouldn't want to live in a world made of andi mack's creations?

and, while it's not exactly a prop, the characters' wardrobe is undoubtedly a major influence on the show's worldbuilding. true to it's nature as a disney channel show, all of the characters are always dressed in exceptionally curated outfits of whatever the current trends are, making the show that much more visually appealing. i won't elaborate too much on this, because i could honestly write a whole other analysis on andi mack's fashion (my favorites are andi's and bex's outfits! and kudos to the costume designer(s) for creating such wonderful and in-character wardrobes!). but, i think it's a really really important aspect of how the show's universe is perceived, so it had to be touched upon.

[^ some of my favorite outfits from the show! i am so obsessed with andi's jacket in the finale, and i aspire to be at bex's level of being a leather jacket bisexual]

and lastly, phones. this is a bit of an interesting case (pun intended), because the way they're used fluctuates a bit throughout the show, but i definitely noticed that at least in the first season terri minsky tried to avoid using them altogether. these efforts at distancing from modern tech really grounds the show in it's idealist, nostalgia-heavy roots, so even when the characters start using their phones more later in the show, they don't alter the viewer's impression of the andi mack universe very much.

so, what does all of this have to do with worldbuilding? in andi mack's case, because it's set in a realistic universe and not a fantasy one, a lot of what sets it apart from the real world comes down to tone. because, as much as this world is based on our own, it really does feel separate from it, like an alternate reality that's just slightly more perfect than ours, which makes all the difference. it's the idealism in color and composition in andi mack's settings that makes it so unmistakably andi mack. even the weather is always sunny and perfect (which is incredibly ironic because the town is called shadyside - yes, i am very proud of that observation).

the andi mack universe resides somewhere in this perfect medium that makes it feel like a small town in the middle of nowhere (almost like hill valley in 1955 from "back to the future"), but at the same time like an enclave within a big city (because of its proximity to so many modern, unique, and honestly very classy looking establishments). it is, essentially, an unattainable dream land that tricks you into believing it is attainable because it's just real enough.

all this to say, andi mack does an amazing job of creating of polished, perfect world for its characters. this is pretty common among disney channel and nickelodeon shows, but because most other shows tend to be filmed in a studio with three-wall sets, andi mack is really set apart from them in that it automatically feels more real and tangible. it has its quintessential recurring locations, but it has far more of them (most disney/nick shows usually only have 3-4 recurring settings), and it has a lot more one-off locations. it's also a lot more considerate when it comes to its props, so rather than the show just looking garish and aggressively trendy, it has a distinctive style that's actually appropriate to the characters and the story. overall this creates the effect of expanding the universe, making shadyside feel like it really is a part of a wider world, rather than an artificial bubble. it's idealism is, first and foremost, grounded in reality, and that provides a basis for its brilliant, creative, and relatable storytelling.

tl;dr: andi mack's sets and props give it a very retro and nostalgic tone which makes its whole universe seem super perfect and i want to live there so bad!!

#andi mack #buffy driscoll #cyrus goodman #jonah beck #tj kippen #tyrus #ambi #bex mack #analysis #film analysis #disney channel

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stillebesat · 3 years

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Christmas Eve (4/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, Frogmin!Virgil, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk, Human-ish Creatures kept as Pets Taglist in Reblog

To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Roman regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

The Dameon he knew could spin the truth like a top. His stories sounding so believable that even now, years later, Roman still had very little idea what he actually knew about his Ex...besides the fact that he was a slimy no good lying viper. If he wanted to get a Frogmin for his kid, then Roman was sure Dameon could point to any cage on the shelf, and despite Roman’s years of experience, convince him that whatever cage he picked would be perfectly adequate to hold the Frogmin.

Oh Crofters, would the Frogmin they picked out be okay going home with them?! He couldn’t remember Dameon being cruel to animals, but the guy had never shown an interest in them either. Sure, Pattey seemed sweet enough but if Dameon was his actual dad then what if it was all just an act. What if--

Dameon huffed, running his fingers through his curly hair, messing it up in a way that Roman had never seen him do when they’d been together. He straightened, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes as he slipped a hand in his pocket, moving a couple of steps down the aisle to give his kid some space to interact with the Frogmins without them hovering.

Reluctantly Roman followed, his attention split between ensuring Pattey wouldn’t reach into the cage and terrorize the Frogmins...and watching his Ex’s every move.

“You and I both know that I could just point to a random cage and convince you I’d bought it elsewhere, but I hope that the picture I took will be more than enough proof that I have the proper setup?” He asked, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it before holding it out to him.

Well...pictures could be faked….but considering Dameon had obviously not expected to see him here...would he have gone so far as to fake a photo? It was possible. He’d done it before to fake several incidents at college parties they’d gone to...but a cage for a new pet for his son? Who would think to fake that?

Roman exhaled. No. He’d think himself in circles until well past midnight if he tried to read too far inbetween the lines. It was Christmas Eve. Dameon wanted a Frogmin for his son and Pattey seemed genuinely excited to have one. It had to be the truth. He had to believe that.

For now.

“If you’ve bought some dinky little hamster cage, Dae, I’m not letting you leave here with any creature until you have a proper setup.” He said, taking the phone from him.

Dameon’s eyes flashed, his mouth quirking up in a half smile as he glanced over to his son who’d somehow managed to cox basically every Frogmin in the cage closer to him.

Impressive for a child. It must be those soft honey eyes.

“I did do some research beforehand.”

“You know can’t trust everything on Google right?” Roman asked as he zoomed in on the image of the kid, Pattey, standing next to a cage as tall as he was. He had to admit. It was a nice setup. Not the most expensive home for a Frogmin he’d seen, but it was a good middling sort of cage. Multilevel, plenty of foliage, there was even a mister visible from the side to keep the place humid.

“I did ask multiple store employees as well...but I got differing answers.”

Typical. Ask more than one person and you’d get more than one answer. Still. It looked like Dae had managed to get the proper stuff. “What sort of pond do you have within? A bowl?” People always tried to use cheap tupperware to make a pond for their Frogmins, but it never worked out well in the long run.

Dameon scoffed, taking his phone back, fidgeting with it as he turned his head away to stare at a nearby cage of little Nagas. “As if. It’s a filtered thing. Not a waterfall, I couldn’t risk the splashing, but it has running water. Fresh. Takes up half of the floor of the cage, the rest is moss and dirt.”

Huh. Despite his reluctance to give his Ex any credit...he really hadn’t done half bad. Roman crossed his arms. “Hideout?”

Dameon shrugged. “There’s a rock cave on the ground, a wooden one higher up, and Pattey had me grab a moss hammock four stores ago. Just in case.”

Four? “....And just how many stores have you been to today?” On Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t he be like...going to some big fancy party or something? Or…at least getting ready for Santa’s arrival?

Dameon grimaced, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Fifteen.” He admitted, keeping his attention firmly on the cage in front of him.

Roman whistled. Talk about dedication. “Ouch.”

“Mmm.” His fingers twitched as he glanced to his son, wearing that half smile of his. “No one else in a hundred and fifty miles has them.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. A hundred and FIFTY miles? Dude. Good news. It meant there was a low chance of him ever having to encounter his Ex again after tonight if he drove this far. But Dude. He drove this far? For his son? The Dameon he knew wouldn’t have gone through half as much effort. He would have convinced someone else to do all the work for him instead and then take the credit.

“Talk about a Hail Mary then coming all the way out here without calling first.” Especially since his store was closing like...right now. “The Mythical Mins have been quite popular this year. You’re lucky my store had the foresight to quadruple our orders.”

“I did try calling.” Dameon said, holding out a hand to the Nagamins, a flash of wistfulness crossing his face as he watched the minis leisurely slither about within. “After the first two failures...I called the next--oh, six?” He grimaced. “Those who actually answered assured me that they had them in stock--only for us to find that they’d sold out by the time we showed up. I stopped calling after that point. Just looked up the next pet store and drove.”

Wow. That was--- “I didn’t think you’d ever be so persistent. Especially for some kid.” Wait. Roman blanched. That came out so wrong--

Dameon’s eyes flashed with all too familiar anger as he whirled to him, his hands clenching. “He’s not some kid, Roman, he’s my son. And as cliche as it is...I would move heaven and earth to make him happy.”

Roman jerked his hands up. “I didn’t mean--” Yeesh. And he was hoping to avoid triggering Dameon’s temper. He just hadn’t expected his Ex to be...that protective. Of course, he just hadn’t ever seemed the type to...settle down either. “That came out wrong.” His words were usually wrong in some fashion when Dameon was present. “Honestly, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t.”

Dameon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, the anger unexpectedly vanishing as quickly as it had sparked. “The eyes right?” He raised a hand to his own golden ones.

“Well...yah. They’re practically the same.” Unfortunately. Though on the kid it was cute instead of terrifying.

He dropped his hand. “Yah...well you saw it quicker than I did.” He looked back to Pattey.

Roman blinked. “Wait. You--”

Dameon huffed, shaking his head. “It took me...a bit...to believe he was mine.” He said in a low voice.

Roman scoffed “You saw his eyes and you didn’t--weren’t you expecting him?! Weren’t you there for his birth?” Hadn’t Dameon just said he would move heaven and earth for the kid? He would have thought--

His Ex ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further before he gestured to himself. “Do I look like--No. I--I’d--I’m---” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how I was, Ro--I didn’t--”

Was. Roman raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard Dameon stutter this much since...well, their first meeting. “And you were always so eloquent.” Flowery words, hidden meanings, barbed compliments. He’d lost more sleep to figuring out just what Dameon had actually said to him and what potential meanings his words held during college than he ever had over studying for finals.

Dameon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Those were fighting words, Roman knew.

Yet his Ex didn’t rise to the bait. He hunched his shoulders, visibly taking a deep breath before relaxing his hands. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve chan--” He cut off grimacing.

“....You’ve changed.” He’d heard that particular phrase a dozen times in college. Yet this time...it seemed just a tad more...believable.

Dameon exhaled, giving a slight shake of his head before meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to be a better person...and even if I wasn’t,” he gestured to his son, “I would much rather walk out of here with a Frogmin than without one for his sake.”

Wouldn’t any parent? At least the ones who wanted to prevent a meltdown. Roman tilted his head to the boy. “He is a cute kid.” Despite who his Father was.

“He is.” Daemon said, that fond half smile appearing on his lips again without any sign of the malice Roman was familiar with. “Some days...I wonder how I got so lucky.”

Yah...karma had obviously gotten mixed signals there.

Mentally Roman kicked himself. And that was how he’d end up getting the three Christmas ghosts visiting him tonight. Sure. He was still obviously bitter about his Ex. But he knew people could change. Just because he couldn’t picture Dameon being a good Dad, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Not when the apparent proof was standing right before him. “Well...it seems like Fatherhood has done you some good.”

Red tinged Janus’s cheeks as he raised a single eyebrow. “Is it really that hard to believe? That I could be a good dad?”

Had he ever looked back on their college years? The list of why he wouldn’t be a good dad could easily fill three books.

But. Roman tilted his hand back and forth. “I only ever knew Liar Dae.” He said simply.

There was still a chance he was still talking to him right now, though from what he’d seen so far he’d like to believe otherwise.

Dameon grimaced. “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Right. I--”

“DADDY!! PRINCEY!!!” Pattey squealed as he rushed towards them, his hands held up high to show them a tiny figure with purple and black spots hanging on to his fingers for dear life. “I GOT MY FROGMIN!”

Roman blinked, mouth dropping open as he recognized the rebelliously reclusive Frogmin who had sworn over a year ago that he would never go home with any human.

“Virgil?” He whispered taking a half step forward as Dameon dropped to his knees in time to catch his son before he could run face first into their legs.

“He picked me, Daddy!!” He picked me!” Pattey cried, practically vibrating with excitement as Dae quickly brought his hands up to surround his son’s, keeping the little emo Frogmin from being jostled further.

“That’s great, Pat!” His Ex said as his cool golden eyes gave the Frogmin a once over, his fingers twitching on his son’s hands.

Roman made a soft sound in the back of his throat as the Frogmin hissed, ducking down out of sight.

Yah. That was Virgil alright. The hiss was his trademark sound after he’d learned it from Roman’s own Min, Logan. But why would he come out of his dark little corner to--how had Pattey even convinced him?! Roman himself had tried every trick in the book to warm the dark and stormy emo of a Frogmin up to the idea of being owned by a human.

Nothing had worked.

Though Roman couldn’t remember ever offering spiders as a bribe before. Was that honestly all that it would have taken? A different food source?

“Virgil?” He asked again, biting his lip as his voice elicited another hiss from the Min and the unwelcome attention of his Ex.

Dameon looked up, eyes flashing. “Is there a problem?” He asked in such a Karen tone that Roman automatically bristled at it.

“Ye--No? NO!” He said slashing his hand across his chest in denial.

Dameon huffed, his hands remaining steady on Pattey’s as he half turned to him, giving him the look. “Roman.”

Roman glowered at his name, baring his teeth in what could barely be called a smile. “I said, NO, Dameon.” He said working to keep his tone even and obviously failing by how his eyes sharpened. “It’s just that Virgil’s never wanted to go home with anyone before. I’m--” Worried. Surprised. Concerned. Curious. The list could go on forever. He knew Virge after all. And there had been plenty of kids just like Pattey -besides the golden eyes- who’d wanted Frogmins before and Vee had never shown himself to them.

A variety of emotions flashed across Dameon’s face too fast for him to process as his Ex tilted his head, staring at him in such a way that Roman was sure he was analyzing every word he used and movement he’d made. “Worried he won’t be a good fit?” He asked, his tone more mild than Roman had been expecting as he dropped his hands from his son’s, though he could hear a hint of bitterness to it.

He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But--- Roman exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he held out his other hand, tilting it back and forth. “Honestly...Virgil probably likes me about as much as I like you.” He said, watching as Dameon winced.

“And that means...?”

What else did Dae expect him to say? Their relationship had been toxic. Before ten minutes ago, Roman would have said that all he felt for Dameon was utmost hatred.

Now though?

It was...it was all so muddled. He was seeing a side of Dae that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know what to think. “Soo--”

“It means we’ll be besties!!” Patton cried, honey eyes positively lighting up as he bounced in place, eliciting another hiss from the Frogmin. “I’ll be the Prince and Virgil will be the Dragon Witch and together we’ll defeat the evil Aaraog and we’ll all live happily ever after! Right Prince Roman?” Pattey beamed at him, holding his hands out, fingers uncurling so that he could see Virgil.

The Frogmin growled, dark hair falling in front of his mismatched eyes before he adjusted his legs, jumping to the boy’s shoulder.

Pattey let out a giggle, scrunching up his shoulders. “Vee, that tickles!!”

Roman let out a breath as Virgil ducked down into the collar of the boy’s jacket. A Happy ending huh? “...Right….That.”

Daemon’s own smile was rather brittle as he stood, ruffling his son’s hair. “Soo…” He said echoing Roman’s tone of voice as he looked up, eyes for once not looking cold and calculating, but...resigned? “It looks like Virgil here wants to come home with my son.” He said, gesturing to the Frogmin peering out from Pattey’s jacket. “Is there paperwork or something I need to fill out for him or--?”

Right. No need to drag out this conversation any longer now the kid had chosen his new pet. “Yes. You’ll need to fill out forms and Virgil--” He cut off as the Frogmin hissed giving him the middle finger. He tsked. Now that wasn’t appropriate for a child to see. “Virgil.”

The Frogmin shook his head, spots slightly glowing as he glowered at him. “No Box, Princey.” He said, with a slight echo to his voice.

Princey? Roman pursed his lips together. Of course the Emo Nightmare chose to finally speak to him now that he was leaving the store. Typical. A true Christmas Miracle. Logan would be so proud to hear that the little EmoFrogmare had finally broken his silence to Roman.

Pattey reached up, cupping his hand protectively around the Frogmin as he gave Roman the saddest puppy dog look he’d seen this holiday season with the watery eyes, trembling lip and everything. “Vee can stay with me right? I’ll keep him warm.”

Yes, but-- “You know that’s not our policy, Vir--” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as Virgil let out an even longer hiss sounding like an agitated rattlesnake. “Fine. Fine. But if you fall and break your leg it’s not my fault.”

Dameon coughed into his hand, doing a poor job of hiding his smile as Virgil flashed him a thumbs up, curling up against Pattey’s neck as the boy gasped, eyes going wide.

“No! No breaking! He’ll stay Safe!! Virgil is MY PROTECTOR!! He’s eating the spiders!” He said, shaking his head hard enough that the Frogmin would have fallen if the kid’s hand hadn’t been right there for him to cling to with his little sticky fingers. “Promise!”

And this was the boy EmoFrogmare wanted to go home with? Roman didn’t understand at all. He raised an eyebrow as Vee settled once more on Pattey’s shoulder. “That’s good. Just be careful alright?”

Virgil hissed in response, baring his teeth at them.

“He really doesn’t like you does he?” Daemon commented in a low voice.

Roman rolled his eyes, gesturing for his Ex to follow him to the checkout counter so he could grab the proper forms. “Nope.” He said, popping the P. It was kinda irritating too. He could charm all the other Mins in the store and get them more comfortable and out of their shells before going to their new homes, but Virgil had never warmed up to him.

Dameon gave him a crooked smile. “I’m sorry.”

Roman stiffened at the unexpected third apology falling easily from the snake’s lips. How could he say it now for something that wasn’t even his fault when he couldn’t even apologize for--for...everything that had happened between them back in college?

He shook his head, waving it away. “Don’t be--well you can be once you pay for him.” He said, jabbing a finger in his Ex’s direction before pulling out the forms and a pen. “Then his bad behavior is on you, not me.”

To Be Continued. Part 5

#Christmas Eve #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Roman #Janus #Patton #Virgil #Creativity #Deceit #Morality #Anxiety #Dad!Janus #Kid!Patton #Frogmin!Virgil #MythicalMin!AU #Frogmin!AU #past toxic relationship talk tw #manipulation talk tw #lying talk tw

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hinaaspanda · 3 years

Text

...and they were (more than) roommates! | njm

Pairing: Campus Pretty Boy + Roommate! Jaemin x Dancer! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 9576

Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin.

a/n; hi! for this fic i tried adding my own oc (Hina) just to spice things up!! lol totally not to insert myself as jenos love interest or anything ahaha anyways please enjoy!

Huang Renjun never thought that breaking off one college relationship would be so detrimental to your heart.

It really was such a small relationship, just one month of innocent pecks on the cheeks in between classes, weekend dinner dates, and trips around the city on your breaks. It was such a minute thing, yet your heart couldn’t get enough. You grew invested, never wanting to let go. Becoming dependent on mere goodbye kisses. And after one month of being together, you were stuck watching him drift away, fingers intertwined with that of someone new. Now, of course, one question remained; if it was such a short relationship, why in the world did it hurt your heart so much?

You sat under the brisk afternoon sunlight, gnawing at the cafeteria food as your campus friends began bickering over god knows what. You tune out the ruckus before you, your mind wandering like a lost child between the aisles of a supermarket. An image of him swims into your mind as you curse under your breath. It didn’t matter how healthy your break up was, or how put together your persona must’ve seemed. The only thing you wanted was to be in Renjun’s arms once again.

Suddenly, you felt the stares of a concerned Hina and Shotaro burning through you. Your shoulders shivering at the sudden thrust into the spotlight. Was your thinking face that miserable-looking? You sent a half-assed chuckle in the hopes of diverting their attention.

“Is something wrong-”

“You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” Your childhood friend, Hina, began rather harshly, throwing off your more laid-back classmate, Shotaro. “About Renjun?”

The soda that slid down your throat almost shot out of your lips, straight into the air as Hina stared you down, interrogating you. How obvious were you? You pondered for a little bit, your eyes now meeting Hina’s and Shotaro’s concerned ones. You couldn’t defy the truth to your overly caring friends, even if you tried. “...Yeah. I was.”

The somber air around you thickened with each passing minute as you finished off your lunch for the day. You wince, fearing your friends would, out of disappointment in your inability to shut up about your failed love life, cut ties with you right then and there. You wouldn’t blame them, though. Even you were starting to get tired of your weak, measly heart. Shotaro breaks the silence, a sweet grin plastered on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n! You just need to find something to get your mind off of him!” Shotaro chirps, his upbeat demeanor infecting Hina beside him. Hina continues, a grin now lining her lips.

“How about another date? With someone new!”

You almost scoff out loud. “Another date?”

The bold figure of Hina crossed her arms in disbelief. “There are other guys out there, y/n. What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?.”

“My roommate? No! We’re just friends, nothing else!” You quickly retort, waving your hands in a very strong denial. Hina’s head tilted in persuasion.

“You’ll never know until you try, y/n.” Your head hung low as you let out the fifth sigh that day. You loved Hina, you truly did, but with these outlandish ideas protruding from her head, you were convinced she was going crazy.

...

“What? You gonna chicken out or something?” Donghyuck scoffed through a disgusting amount of food stuffed in his mouth. “You’re telling me the campus hottie’s too scared to go on a date?” Jaemin’s eyes sent nothing but death threats to the aggravating college student, sipping on the vending machine drink destructive to his health. He was offended, to say the least. Offended at how inaccurate his so called ‘friend’ was being, anyways.

Na Jaemin had it all. A decent fashion sense, heavenly proportions, good grades and work ethic. A face most people would classify as attractive, and a bright, luring smile to tie it all together. Some say he was the whole package, driving the women of the campus insane as they line up to get a simple glimpse of the school’s resident hottie. He was the campus pretty boy, but one question remained; why was he still single?

It’s been theorized by many, some believing in his virtuous desire to focus on his studies, while others believe he might just swing another way or simply not interested in the idea of romance. But one thing stayed true, Na Jaemin was not some coward who couldn’t get a date.

The pretty boy sat before his set of now intrigued college friends, Donghyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang, all riddled with such an irritating curiosity it made Jaemin cringe. It was only Tuesday, Jaemin had a tower of school work waiting for him back at home, and the last thing he needed was three idiots challenging his love life. He reached for another sip of his drink, cursing at lack of said drink in the can.

“Don’t be stupid, Hyuck. I could get a girl if I wanted to. I’m just...busy right now, with schoolwork and stuff”

“Oh really?” Donghyuck’s sly voice ticked a flame in Jaemin’s soul. He huffed out a disbelieving scoff as he leaned back on the cheap, plastic chair. Was he really doubting him? He quite literally had the entire female population of the school at his grasp, and Donghyuck was doubting him? Lee Donghyuck was bound to eat his words, as gross as a child to their ice cream.

“Yeah, I can get any girl around here, just watch. And if I don’t?” Jaemin’s eyes scour around, searching for a way out another stupid idea before finally landing on the trash pile that was Yangyang’s homework. “...I’ll do your guy’s homework for a week.”

Everyone’s eyes widened at Jaemin’s proposal, a proposal that stunted even the slyest of prankers, Lee Donghyuck himself. Was he really going all out? Sacrificing a week of freetime for some measly bet? Even stupefying the once unbothered Jeno, trapped in his own, unexpectedly unfortunate love life.

“Dude are you serious? Deal!” Donghyuck and Yangyang practically hollered, both sending Jaemin a crisp slap on the back. Na Jaemin, how much of an idiot are you?

“So, who do you think you're gonna go for?” Jeno gripped the strap of his school bag as him and Jaemin trotted away from their final class of the day. Jaemin huffed out what felt like the 100th sigh that afternoon. His eyes grazing the trees peeking through the campus windows. Surely he needed a plan, right? No matter how many girls relished in his good looks, he wouldn’t possibly survive without one. Jaemin’s palms grew cold, pupils shaking in a sudden fear. God, maybe he would be stuck writing Yangyang’s overdue essays for the next week.

“What about that y/n girl?” Jeno suddenly chirped. “The quiet one from the dance department?”

Jaemin froze in his tracks, looking synonymous to a deer caught in headlights. He tilted his head, puzzled, to say the least. “...y/n?”

“Yeah, I heard she got out of a relationship recently.”

Jaemin’s once boastful voice soon grew into a stuttering mess as Jeno walked past him, sending a heartwarming chuckle. Jeno turned around, giving one final look to Jaemin, currently bathing underneath the small snippets of evening sunlight.

“It’s just something to think about, Jaem. Don’t worry about it too much.”

...

Your legs were anything but stable as you stepped off the city bus that night. You loved to dance, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said it drained you faster than a mosquito sucking out your blood. The mustard streetlight effortlessly cascaded off of your frame as your wobbly figure began its long trek to your apartment. Sudden buzzes from your phone shook you awake一a sensation your exhausted self clearly needed一before you clicked on the notification.

Roomie :) [7:34pm]: I bought us some dinner before I got home

Roomie :) [7:34pm]: sorry it’s frozen pizza lol I’m too poor :((

Roomie :) [7:36pm]: oh also I got a favour to ask when u get here

Your mind trails back to lunch, with a familiar phrase replaying in your head for the umpteenth time that day.

How about another date? With someone new?

You huffed out another somber sigh, something you found yourself doing a lot, lately. Could you really do it? Could you finally let go of the dead weight? Finally free yourself of the heartbreak tainting you? You feel your heart clenching inside you as you fumble with your house keys. Could your heart handle another simple date?

What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?

No, your roommate didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve being bombarded with the atrocity that was your failed love life. He was too sweet, too caring to deal with anything of the sort. Besides, with how gentle and pleasant he is, it was certain you didn’t deserve him.

This wouldn’t have been the first time you held your roommate in such high regard. He really had it all, a kind personality, decent looks, and an exquisite taste in cheap, diabetes inducing food. He knew all the best coffee places and knew the perfect times to surprise you with your favorite drinks. He wasn’t just some rando who split the rent with you. He was your friend. A sudden rush of unwanted blood heats up your cheeks as you stop in your tracks.

He was your friend. Nothing more.

The golden light of your apartment blinded you as you strolled in. The figure of your roommate was cast before you, dawning his classic ivory shirt and grey sweatpants, paired perfectly with his undone hair, and a plate of steaming hot pizza, straight from the microwave. It looked nothing like the pretty boy image he left your apartment with before class this morning. It was surreal, really. Only you got the luxury to see him like this. It was one of the strange perks of being roommates with the one and only, Na Jaemin.

“Welcome home!” Jaemin chirped to your sleepy figure. He thrusted the plate of pizza to you, a smile wiped across his cheeks. “Pizza?”

...

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest.

Your trembling, sweaty palms couldn’t stop shaking since dinner, almost breaking one of your scarce dinner plates in the process of washing them. You couldn’t blame yourself, though. Na Jaemin’s proposal was nothing but calming.

“So, what were you gonna ask me, anyways?” You spat through your mouth full of rubbery pizza. God, you need to eat properly before practice. You glanced at our roommate, currently fiddling with the tips of some miscellaneous fork as he suddenly dodged your eyes.

“Uh, yea, that.” He stuttered. So timid, it was unreal to you. Usually this man had no fear of asking for favours. Whether it was doing his laundry or fixing up dinner on his assigned day of the week, he would never show any hesitation on asking you to do anything.

“Okay this is gonna sound weird, but…” Jaemin started, breaking into a cold sweat. “I need you to go on a fake date with me.” Jaemin finally exhaled before connecting his eyes with yours. The whites of your eyes spilled out, along with the juice that almost had the chance of successfully slipping down your throat. He wanted... what?

“Don’t worry! It’s just gonna be one date! I made this stupid bet with Hyuck, and if I don’t get a date soon, I need to do their homework for a whole week!” He gripped the locks of his hair as he slumped onto his side of the dining table.

You shuffled back to the dining room, clenching your paper towel tightly in your palm. Anything to help calm your rapid heart down, just for a moment. “And, you can use this as a chance to distract yourself from that Renjun asshole.”

A sudden pain struck your chest like a lightning bolt to a lanky tree, barren in a grassland. You wince at the sudden calling of that name, your taste buds growing sour. You let out another soft sigh. You really need to get over him, fast. You stretch up from your seat, hoisting up the now empty dinner plate as you trudge towards the sink. But not before stopping in your tracks, tilting your head in Jaemin’s direction.

“I-uh-I’ll think about it.”

Oh, you thought about it, alright. Screamed into your poor, innocent pillow about it, at least.

It all zoomed too fast for you, too swift for your brain to handle. Your breathing grew short and shallow. You felt as if you could die, right then and there, gripping onto your bed sheets while freaking out about Na Jaemin, your bold roommate. No, you couldn’t take up his risque offer. You were in no shape to go on another date, even if it did have no actual meaning behind it. You were too tangled in your mess of a life, and this stupid move would only fan the fire.

You can use this as a chance to distract yourself from Renjun.

The phrase rang through your head more time than you would’ve liked. No matter how much you shielded yourself from his claim, Jaemin would still be right in that manner. You needed to distract yourself, sure. But was this the way to go?

Another sigh escapes your lips as you rush down the hall of your apartment. Your steps, hesitant as ever, dripping in a mix of confusion, exhaustion and nervousness. It’s official. You are the worst at well thought-out decisions.

“Hey” you huffed at your roommate, eyeing him timidly as he washes the dishes. Something your shaken figure couldn’t properly complete without breaking a glass that night. He shifts to face you, a slightly nervous expression painting him. You clear your throat before continuing, hoping that small cough would stop time in its tracks.

“I-I’ll go on that date with you.”

His classic boisterous smile spreads across his face once again. If your mind wasn’t rushing around in four different places at once, you could probably admit that you found it the slightest bit cute.

“Really? Thanks so much! How does this Saturday at 7 sound?”

You only had the mental energy to swiftly nod your head as you zoomed back into the confines of your room, your safe space. You couldn’t help but notice the heat rising back to your cheeks as you plopped back onto the bed, vigorously scrolling through your phone to find your saviours.

the gorls and shotaro [9:48pm]: guys I need help with something

the gorls and shotaro [9:49pm]: let’s meet at hina’s after class

...

“I don’t care if you’re just going on some fake date to lie to his friends, I still wanna make you look hot!” Hina never failed to leave you, Shotaro, and probably some people passing by her house, shaken by her booming voice. With her small, fragile looking frame, she was the last one you’d expect to have such a bold personality.

“Please, that’s the fifth dress in your closet she’s tried already. It’s just a fake date, we don’t even need to try hard!” Shotaro challenges, his attention leaving a now grumbling Hina as it turns towards you. “Why did you even say yes, anyways?”

“I dunno, I’m stupid?” You murmur, the hint of bitterness caught in your breath. You give a subpar twirl to your audience, a deadpan expression shielding your face. “I guess I wanna help him? It would suck to do all that homework for a week.”

“Yeah, but he could easily ask any other girl on the campus. This is freaking Na Jaemin we’re talking about!” Hina once again hollered. An action that would guarantee her a slap on the head if you didn’t love her so much.

“Are you sure it's just for that stupid bet?”

You slip into the makeshift change room, which was really just blankets hung on coat hangers, propped across two sides of a corner in Hina’s room. After making your final decision for your outfit of the night, you change back into your own clothes, stalling your response to Hina’s question. You never knew why you felt the need to stall, though. You should know your answer by now, right?

“Yeah, it’s just for the bet, nothing else.” You find your voice trailing off at those last words of yours as you emerge from the corner, holding the destined outfit that made the cut. Hina sighed, plopping onto the bed like the main character of those dramas after they finally find out they’re in love.

“Just make sure you aren’t lying to yourself, y/n. It could hurt you.”

“Oh really? Isn’t it time you listen to your own advice??” Shotaro provoked, Hina now shooting up from the bed in irritation. “How are things going with that Jeno guy, huh?”

“I am going to murder you.” Hina’s voice stayed low, barely trembling before zooming through the door, chasing a now escaping Shotaro and his incredibly fast feet. You, however, couldn’t pray for Shotaro’s survival. Not with your mind stuck in it’s own rut, and your cheeks now glowing a violent pink.

This was just for a bet, nothing else. You reminded yourself once again.

...

“This wasn’t too bad, right?” His soothing voice swam through your ears softly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm down your heart, which was currently pacing anywhere but your chest. You mustered up all the courage in the world to glance back at his eyes across the restaurant table, your breaths stopping in an effort to hide the sudden rush of blood flowing to your cheeks. With his unbothered eyes locking onto yours in an instant, Na Jaemin sent you another one of his heartache-inducing smiles. “Thanks for helping me with this.”

This shouldn’t be affecting you this much. After all, the only thing you and Jaemin really did was sit under the restaurant roof, order dishes deemed perfect under the social media lens, and take pictures with said dishes, becoming the perfect pieces of evidence to show that Na Jaemin was no coward. However, with the romantic, first date type outfit draped onto your figure, and the general ambience of the room, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit flustered. You shot him another smile, one hiding the forest fire that was your mental state. “Uh, yeah! No problem!”

Silence fell over the two of you as you listened to the clinks of glass sounding off from the dishwashing station behind you. A silence that you wanted to hold onto more than anything. But alas, Your roommate breaks it, glancing up from the ground.

“You look great, by the way.”

Your cheeks flush a deep vermillion. They’ve been doing that a lot lately.

“Thanks, Jaem.” You barely muster out, dodging his eyes. “But you don’t have to say stuff like that, this is all fake, remember?” You took the time to remind him, not fully sure who truly needed it. You fiddled with your fingers as your ears picked up the sudden ruckus of obnoxious college students coming from down the dining hall.

“You should ask her out, Jeno!” a voice chirped

“No! Are you crazy? She probably thinks I’m weird or something”

“I doubt it, you’re hot! Plus, she’s in my department! I can alway ask-”

“Guys, quick, look! Over there!”

The voices grew closer and closer, the whites of your eyes spilling more and more in utter shock. You can’t help but check on Jaemin, the same expression now burning through you. You mirrored each other so much, you could tell the exact words running through his mind right now. Mostly because they ran through yours, too. Oh Shit.

“JAEMIN!!” The voice of an irritating Lee Donghyuck rang through your ears at an alarming, and unwanted rate. The hollers of an equally aggravating Liu Yangyang from Jaemin’s class, swiftly followed, leaving behind the only tolerable one, Lee Jeno behind. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Ahaha, hey!” Jaemin stuttered, panic overflowing in his eyes as the three intruders squished into the already occupied, two person booth. His eyes scanned the restaurant, grasping for any way to escape. Afterall, this was certainly not part of the plan. Donghyuck’s curious eyes scanned, too, his pupils finally focusing on you. “And who might this be?”

“I-I’m y/n” You stuttered out, your wrist feeling heavy as you began gesturing to the date in front of you. “I’m his da-”

A lightbulb jumped from Jaemin’s head, his shoulder jolting in response. Na Jaemin wasn’t one for outlandish pranks, especially if you were at the receiving end, which only made your thumping heart wonder; what the hell was he trying to pull now?

“She’s my date.”

Suddenly, your once isolated and vacant hand was tugged to the center of the dinner table before softly getting encased in his. His fingers, notably bigger than your nimble ones, interlocked with yours. Heat began to creep up at your ears. Who knew your hand fit so perfectly in his? You looked down, foolishly hoping that your cheeks would stop flushing into that embarrassing red if you hid it well enough. “See?”

“Oh!” Donghyuck lined his lips with a stupid grin, his eyebrows wiggling as he scoffs in disbelief. Yangyang riled up with excitement beside him, and even the calm Jeno couldn’t stop his jaw from falling to the floor. Na Jaemin did it. He really pulled it off. “I guess we’re disturbing something, then?”

“No worries! We were just about to leave, anyways” Jaemin still held onto that panicked tremble in his voice as the two of you shuffled through the restaurant booth. He stalked behind you before handing you your coat. “See you guys tomorrow!”

Your mind couldn’t help but focus on the light touch Jaemin’s palm left on the lower, small of your back as he gently escorted you from the restaurant. You felt like a princess, protected by your knight’s brute strength, as you tiptoed on your path of feathers. That darned flushed heat wouldn’t leave your cheeks. Na Jaemin, your one and only roommate, was driving you crazy.

The wind roughly brushes against your cheek as the two of you finally exit the restaurant. The breeze was the last thing you would’ve classified as comfortable, which was why you felt just the slightest twinge of disappointment once the warmth of his hand snaked away from you. His palm hugged the nape of his neck as his eyes softened from their former panic.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know they’d show up so randomly.”

No, he had nothing to apologize for. It was your fault for being so greedy. You instinctively widen the distance between you, saving yourself from a wave of embarrassment.

“It’s fine.”

It’s official, you hated your weak heart more than anyone.

...

Three. There were three instances in which your heart was set on fire the next day, by none other than the infamous Na Jaemin, of course.

[10:49 am]

A violent GAME OVER! blasted through your ear drums as you slumped on the couch, watching your roommate die for the 70th time that evening. He let out an equally jolting groan, throwing the controller to the depths of your living room carpet before rushing to check if it was okay. You sat promptly on the couch he leaned against, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as if last night you didn’t experience the most heart-collapsing date in the 19 years of your life.

Your heart still hasn’t properly healed from it, either. Every time you pass by him in the halls, whether it be a quick snack or a glass of water, your heart never fails to tense up, your throat tightening up in a cruel response. You swear, Na Jaemin was out for your blood the moment he asked you to stay in the living room with him, even if it was to simply watch him fail play.

“Aw fuck me!” Jaemin suddenly blurted out as he examined the now loosened control button. As if on cue, an army of redness storms through your cheeks as you listen in, his simple word choice setting you off. Your head shakes vigorously enough to give you a pounding headache, before you get the chance to fill your head with certain spoiled thoughts. Wow, you really are evil.

You didn’t spare him the explanation for your sudden departure from the living room couch. All you knew was that your mind and heart were running haywire, and the only thing that could stop you from thinking about your roommate as anything but your roommate was a deep rethinking of your own morals beside your castle of stuffed animals.

[2:45 pm]

“Here, I’ll get that for you.” Jaemin’s towering figure shielded your back from the apartment kitchen as he stretched over, retrieving the ranging dish your pitiful frame couldn’t reach. He closed the air between you, his extended chest grazing your shoulder as you stood frozen, your mouth gaping open. He sends you a playful grin as he hands you the plate. “You should try growing a little more, y/n!”

You were too stuck in your questionable haze to tighten your grip on the glass plate, so it was only natural to feel the glass slip through your fingers, shards of the crisp material scattering around your bare feet. Frightened, Jaemin scurried below you, the gentleness of his fingers as he picks up each shard of glass sending butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh my god! Y/n, are you alright!?” You wanted to scoff at his face. Of course you weren’t.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.”

He glances up from below you, his fingers circling the new scratch on your foot that only surfaced from your astound clumsiness.

“Be careful next time, alright?”

You nod hesitantly, staying frozen as Jaemin swiftly works around you; throwing out the dangerous glass shards, running away to retrieve your first aid kit, and patching up your pathetic wound in what felt like one swift heartbeat. God, how pathetic were you?

[8:22 pm]

“Have you seen my hoodie? The blue one?” Jaemin showed no mercy to your innocent door as it swung straight into the wall beside it. You let out an award-winning shriek, your once calm figure jumping from its curled up position. “I think it’s in your laundry bin.”

What he actually had on was...minimal. Nothing but tousled, damp hair and a white towel hooked around his waist. You would let out another shriek if you wanted to, but the lack of air reaching your lungs, all from the utter shock of a half-naked Na Jaemin in your wake, stopped you from spitting out any kind of noise imaginable. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of your poor teddy bear as you shield your eyes from your door frame.

“Gahh! What are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh.” It finally clicked in his mind that his current appearance was not for the faint of heart. Not for yours, at least. You let out another ear- piercing wail. “Put on a shirt already!!”

Jaemin let out a boastful, childish laugh. He leaned over, digging for your eyes, which were currently finding anything else to lay their attention on. “What, are you getting flustered?”

Your eyes finally meet up with his as he keeps you hostage with his stare. A familiar heat storms up your cheeks for the millionth time that evening as you grip the limb of another one of your stuffies on standby. With one final whine, you chuck the plush at his direction. Your lack of looking back all in an effort to hide your glowing red face, out for revenge. “Get out!”

“You’re so cute, y/n.” Jaemin teasingly hums as he slips out of your door frame. You let out an exhausted huff, your chest loosening so much, you’re convinced you haven’t been properly breathing before then.

Na Jaemin will seriously be the death of you.

...

You knew it was cowardly, but you just had to run away. Your weak heart wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise.

You wisp into the barren walls of the dance studio, the flickering lights blinding your vision as you switch them on. You shuffle to the corner of the room, dropping your bag before fumbling with the music station. A soothing song swims through your ears as you settle down in the center of the room, an eye keeping watch of your posture. You close your eyes. Maybe this will finally calm your heart down.

You start slowly, an arm traveling artistically through the air as your legs twirl around the floor. The melody of the music carries your limbs away, leaving your mind alone to think.

They were just simple interactions, a simple slip up ending with a broken dish, a simple choice of words, a simple clasp of the hands to keep up with some measly lie. They were such small things, so why did your heart light up in flames everytime? Why did each instance leave a staining image of Jaemin in your mind, everytime?

You think back to the man that held your heart, before brutally smashing it with his own fist. Huang Renjun. He hasn’t grazed your mind for quite some time now, but this familiar feeling wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Your heart soaked itself in that same lonely feeling, the desire to cling back. You froze from your dance, expecting full well your mind would submerge in a pool of sorrow. Yet, this week was just full of surprises, wasn’t it?

Another image of your horrid roommate flies into your mind, your head mentally swatting it away like a pestering insect. Nonetheless, it’s trailed back, persistent as ever, as you grumble your way to turn off the music. Na Jaemin, wins again.

You could admit, Jaemin kept his promise at shielding your mind away from your failing love life, but he never warned you about the repercussions that were of him seeping into a corner of your heart. His risque, almost flirty behaviour, his teasing remarks, a smile that would brighten up a barren world. He just wouldn’t leave your mind. Yet, you knew you couldn’t have him. If your forest fire of a romance with Renjun had taught you anything, it was that you couldn’t love. You were too clueless, too childish to properly hold someone’s heart. You didn’t deserve anyone’s love.

After gathering your belongings, you trek out the door. You were so lost in your thoughts, not even the thing you held to your heart so dearly, dancing, could pull you out of your rut. You were in no state to go back home just yet, so your fingers trace your phone screen to look for Hina, your resident childhood friend and therapist, apparently. And you wished you had the luxury of plopping onto Hina’s bed, screaming out all your anger into her pillow as she sneaks snacks up to her room, but your horrid life had other plans.

A familiar figure stop’s in their tracks, their bag swaying in their grasp一a grasp that was almost loosened in pure shock一 as they connect their eyes to yours. You stay frozen, your breath hitching as you search for anything to say. And by the looks of it, they were doing the same.

“Y-y/n?” The voice of a flabbergasted Huang Renjun rings through your ear. “W-what are you doing here?”

...

It didn’t take Jaemin long to realize you had left early that morning. Your dance bag left an awkward space beside your night stand in its absence, the dish drying rack was already occupied, with one simple plate and a glass turned over. But more importantly, Jaemin woke up with an empty, lost feeling rumbling inside him一something he only felt when you weren’t around.

It first occurred during the third week of splitting rent, when you joined the school’s dance team. You had left the room without a trace, leaving Jaemin to search for you like a lost puppy to its reluctant owner, instead of getting ready for his afternoon class. He tried his best to brush it off as simple boredom, but with the way his vision simply lights up in your presence, even he started to get suspicious of himself.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint it at first, the very reason you always trailed in his mind. It could have been anything. Your immense amount of talent, the wisp of anonymity that surrounded you, one he strived to break to get to know you better. The angelic personality he was first greeted with once he did break down that barrier. Anything about you could’ve easily pulled his heart closer to you. He was in love.

Nevertheless, he clearly wasn’t obvious enough, as within weeks of beginning your college career, your figure was cradled in the arms of another man. Huang Renjun, resident A+ student and Jaemin’s childhood classmate.

As the days pass by, and he becomes bombarded with endless homework, the two of you slowly drift apart, returning to the simple ‘roommate’ label on your contact lists. He resorts to the abundance of girls around the campus. Hoping each one he’d fool around with could finally get his head away from you. Yet, as he always comes home just to see your face, so did his heart, apparently.

Don’t get him wrong, he felt terrible the night you trudged home in tears, the fresh sadness of a break up welling through you. And he tried everything in his power to make you feel better, though it never worked. But一 and he would rather kill a man than ever let this slip from his tongue一he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit relieved that you were finally in his grasp once again.

“So, how serious are you? About her?” Jeno quizzed through the phone, a now distressed Na Jaemin on the other side of the line. Jaemin fell onto the bed, dust particles jumping into the air.

“I really like her” Jaemin huffed.

“So? Then go tell her! You should be with her, not here blabbering about her to me. Look, you don’t have anything to worry about, Jaem. It’s not like she’s in a relationship anymore.”

Jaemin's eyes widen and Jeno’s nonchalant words. That's right. You weren’t taken anymore. Not trapped in the confines of another man’s arms. It was what he was fighting for, all those months ago. Na Jaemin finally had a shot with you.

“Are you sure you like her?” Jeno pulled Jaemin back to reality as Jaemin scrambled to the bathroom. He placed the device down on the bathroom sink, his eyes locking in with his reflection from the bathroom mirror. “Yeah.”

He chuckled to himself before ending the call, an image of you rolling into his mind. ‘Like’ would be a deep understatement. He was in love, has been for months now, and he was finally ready to tell the truth. He probably looked like a little kid hungry for ice cream, but he didn’t care. He paced out the door. He was going to finally have you, once and for all.

...

“She and I are good, yeah.” Renjun stuttered out, not looking past the drink he hastily purchased before the two of you sat down in the campus cafe. “What about you? How have you been?”

With all your might, you stopped your throat from belting out a petty laugh. How have you been? Was he being serious? You’ve been pleasant, aside from all the inner turmoil ringing through your heart at the moment. You sent a bogus smile at the man in front of you. “I’ve been...alright.”

The awkward silence suffocated you, squeezing your throat so tight, not a single sliver of air could slip through. Why did he come across you now of all times? And why did he have to be so much more emotionally sound than you were? Renjun shifted around, clearing his chest with a small ahem! You knew he was always a man who would never beat around the bush, and today was no exception.

“I’m sorry…” His sudden confession shook you to your core, the liquid inside your glass mimicking your shivering movements. Your eyes, out of pure shock, finally take the courage to graze across Renjun as he continues. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I know I didn’t give you that much of an explanation back then.”

Your eyes retire back to the wooden table in front of you. He didn’t need to apologize. He didn’t need to explain himself at all, not when your greedy heart was at fault. “I knew I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I wasn’t enough for you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Renjun.” You were having enough trouble forgetting him as it is, you didn’t need this.

“I didn’t wanna lie to myself, so that’s why I left you so abruptly like that.” He explains, his fingers turning white from his grip on the coffee cup. Your breaths grow short, your mind scurrying to find the hidden meaning behind his words. All this time, your mind retired to the idea of him running away from your clinging figure, claiming that now rash narrative as valid; correct. Tearing your heart up into little pieces in the process.

“So we didn’t break up because I was being...selfish?”

“Selfish? Of course not.” He comforted. “You deserve someone else, someone way better than me.”

Your mind trails back to your roommate once again, his smile growing more contagious. You find your lips sneaking in a small smile at the thought of him. Except, this time, no twinge of sorrow had followed. Like a bag of bricks lifted off your shoulders, you were finally free. You shined a genuine grin, your first in a long while. “So, we’re good?”

“Of course, y/n.”

You were so trapped in your own childish thoughts, you didn’t notice the hasty booming steps crash through the cafe door frame.

“Y/N!” The voice of your roommate flew through your ears, striking you like a deer caught in blinding headlights. His volume was so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard him from the outside of the cafe. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

...

Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back. Generally unbothered with a smirk lining his lips every now and then. It was one of the ways he stayed on top of the collective campus hierarchy for so long, he was always calm, cool, and collected. He always was, except for today. Instead, he was scrambling at his feet, thumbing through every inch of the school, looking for the infamous y/n.

He finally skips to the cafe, the faint scent of coffee and flavouring overtaking him. He was a panting mess, his hands gripping at the bolts of his knees as he leaned over in pure exhaustion. It was weird, Jaemin always considered himself to be decently fit. It must’ve been you, suddenly turning his world upside down.

She’s gotta be here.

As if on cue, your head pops up on the corner of his eye, basking under the afternoon sunlight which generously seeped through the cafe window. Your eyes weren’t on him, but that wasn’t the worst of his problems. His eyes travel further down your direction, his limp legs mindlessly following like a puppet on two strings. Your eyes weren’t on Jaemin. They were on someone else.

Renjun.

A familiar clenching feeling pulls on his heart harshly, so much so, that his hands reach up to palm the pain through his chest. He’s only felt this rude awakening one other time in the 19 years of his life; the moment you left the house on your first ever date with Huang Renjun. A flame ignites within him as he stalks up to the table. With his heaving breaths and awkward, stiff posture, it was inevitable he'd summon a couple of stares from various customers, but he couldn’t care less.

Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back, but because of you, he became this gross, jealous, poor excuse of a man.

“You didn’t have to be so loud, you know!” You found your voice peaking at the end of your sentence, probably gathering more attention than what you were currently lecturing Jaemin for. A blush stained the circles of your cheeks, though you were never quite sure whether it was the embarrassment of being the center of attention, or the fact that Na Jaemin came rushed and disheveled, looking for you. You cleared your throat to hide your obscene thoughts一a practice you’ve been getting the hang of, lately. “What did you need from me anyway-”

“Why were you with him.” Jaemin cut in. Although, with his stone cold frame now towering over you, his eyes; unassuming and distant, and shallow, hitched breaths, you weren’t even certain this was the same roommate you couldn’t get out of your head for the past week. You simply wave your hand away.

“We just happened to meet up by accident, and we got to talk some stuff out, that's all.” You prayed that your calm voice could soothe the currently tempered man before you. Of course, however, it didn’t.

“Was it really?”

“Yes! Okay, Jaem? What’s with you today?”

“Don’t visit him anymore.” His voice boomed towards the end of his sentences, startling even the finest of nature as two innocent birds fly away in fear.

Something didn’t click, didn’t sit right in your head. Since when was he so demanding? So rude? You found yourself slowly backing away from his figure, an action you thought you’d have to do in your life. Before, he was always a safe space for you, even without your confusing feelings for him. He was always there for you. But now, the air around turned gray, and you were scared more than anything. You scoff, throwing Jaemin off.

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“I’m only worried for you, y/n.”

“Worried about what, exactly? That I’d get back with Renjun?” You stand firm before him. Y/n, what the hell are you doing now. To your own dismay, you continue. “Why would you care about that anyways?”

“Am I not allowed to care about you!?” He practically hollered at the top of his lungs. A fire welled up inside you, with no way of fanning it down. Who does this guy think he is?

“Last time I checked, we didn’t have anything real! Everything between us was all a damn lie! So no, maybe you don’t!”

You lay one final blow straight to Jaemin’s chest, knocking him down like a line of concurred dominoes. Your heart clenches in a cruel response. You were right, factually correct, but the truth always came with a price. Spectators began to crowd around the scene, as a fuming Jaemin stalks towards you, closing the distance between your shoulder blades and brick wall behind you.

“WELL MAYBE I WANTED SOMETHING REAL!” Jaemin retorted, eyes holding a flame you never thought your calm roommate could ignite within him. The air around you grew cautious, the only things sounding off were the weary engines driving past the scene of the crime. His breath grew shallow as it brushed against your skin, your trembling figure watching as he let out an aggravated sigh. His fingers, laced in irritation, comb through his hair as he softens his voice into one final whisper.

“But you don’t want anything like that, right? ‘Cause you’re still caught up with that Renjun asshole?”

“Jae-”

“Forget it” Jaemin spits, his eyes finally dodging yours. He backs away from your trembling figure, his hands buried in his pockets as he quickened his pace away from you. Jaemin hissed under his breath, everything finally clearing up in his head. You didn’t want him, You were never ready to move on. It’s official, Na Jaemin couldn’t have you, and he never will.

...

Your brain always had a knack for remembering things, keeping random nuggets of knowledge stored deep within random crevices of your head. Your brain always had a good memory, and today was no exception.

Forget it.

You could probably liven up a lifeless desert with your endless tears that stained Hina’s pillows that night. It would be life or death to retire properly to your own home, not with the atrocity that was this afternoon still thriving in your wake. One more bottled emotion, and your body would simply burst out of existence. You could only properly pinpoint three of them; exhaustion welling up in your feet, confusion tearing through your brain, and guilt overflowing in your heart.

“What am I gonna do?” you weep through the flesh of Hina’s teddy bear. After tossing the empty pop can into her makeshift trash can, Hina plopped onto her bed beside you, drilling a finger straight into her temple. “You need to tell him how you feel, y/n, you can’t just leave him in the dark like that. That’s probably why he got so riled up.”

Your eyes shake as they stay on the ground. Hina shuffles around arms crossing in a full interrogation. “You do know what you want, right?”

Slowly, and without much thought pulling at your strings, you slowly nod. “Well then, what is it?”

An image of your roommate shines into your head once again. The kind roommate you had the great luxury of coming home to, the one always saving you a slice of frozen pizza for when you arrive, the one who reaches the irritating dishes at the top of the cupboard, the one you couldn't get out of your mind. His heartwarming demeanour, his charming smile, his everything. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. With a twinge of determination, you lock eyes with Hina.

“I want it all to be real. I wanna be with Jaemin.”

Hina rested her back onto the plump mattress, a smug grin lining her lips as she crossed her arms in pride. “So you’re finally gonna start listening to me, hm?”

...

“Are you sure about this, Jaem?” Yangyang has never一in Jaemin’s two years of knowing him一sounded so concerned for his friend’s wellbeing. It sent shivers down his spine, how pitiful Jaemin must’ve looked right now. His fingers grasped the horrendous stack of papers; one wrong move could easily decorate the floor with the homework, and Jaemin was...concerned, to say the least.

“Why are we even doing this? You won the bet!” Donghyuck hugged his own stack close to his chest as the three boys watched Jaemin’s head sink low to the floor, and watched his heart sink even lower. “Yeah, about that...”

Even if the truth hurts, it needs to be said, right?

“...Y/n wasn’t my date at the restaurant. I never asked anyone out, actually. The truth is… she’s my roommate. I only asked her out on a fake date so I could keep the bet going.”

Jaemin felt the confused, yet somber stares of Jeno burn through his skin. It only made sense that Jeno had a few questions; Na Jaemin’s beaten up, hunched over figure was nothing like the lovestruck, head-over-heels Jaemin he’d witnessed just a couple of days prior. “But it didn’t work out that well with her, so here I am, ready for the punishment.”

It struck Jaemin’s chest more times that could count, slashing at his heart, his pride, everything he loved. How could he be so foolish? Convincing himself his simple crush could ever reciprocate his feelings. Could ever love him back. Nevertheless, it was more clear now than ever before. To you, he would always just have one label; a simple roommate.

“Jaemin-” Donghyuck reluctantly brushed his palm on Jaemin’s shoulder, his best excuse for a peace offering. Jaemin, however, finally snapped, shooting a glare through the eyes of his rather persistent friends.

“What? You were right, okay? I can’t get any girl I want. I really am just a coward, so I deserve this!” Jaemin slumped his figure一drenched in a sorrow he’s gotten quite familiar with, as of late一into a cheap, cafeteria chair, his heart leaping through his throat.

“She was the only one I wanted, anyway, so what’s the point?”

“I think you got a few things wrong there, buddy.” A familiar voice rang through Jaemin’s ears. The whites of his eyes spilled out of their sockets as Jaemin shot up. You couldn’t blame him, though. The last thing he expected to see was his childhood classmate, Huang Renjun, before him. “You still have a chance with y/n, Jaemin.”

Jaemin sent a rough hiss at Renjun before slowly backing down at Renjun’s unnaturally calm demeanour. “What?”

“I’m not after her anymore, nor is she after me.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Then why-”

“It was an accident, we didn’t mean to meet up like that. And that talk at the cafe? It was all for closure. It was something she and I both needed, a lot, if I might add.”

“So… you weren’t trying to get her back?”

Renjun squinted at the utter dumbassary currently blinding him at the moment. “No, are you stupid? I have a girlfriend. And besides, when she first saw you barge into the cafe, her flustered reaction tells me she feels the same way, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Heat rushed over to Jaemin’s cheeks, the cause being a 50-50 blend of pure embarrassment一from letting his jealous heart take over his mind一and the simple, but beautiful thought of you. Everything started to fall back in their rightful places. His head was finally cleared, his anger had finally wisped away. And more importantly, you were moment’s away from being his. Moments away from retiring the ‘roommate’ label.

Donghyuck leaped from his seat. A directing hand pointed towards the dance department wing as Donghyuck shifted into his ‘fight or flight’ stance, riling up with energy. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CONFESS!!”

Without any further hesitation, Jaemin shot from his seat, his eyes etched with determination, and his heart moments away from bursting through his chest. Donghyuck let out a defeated sigh, arms crossing in disappointment. “God, I can’t believe the campus playboy is such a wuss!”

...

Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin. It also didn’t matter that you spent a whopping one night without his bedroom just across the hall from yours; as your heart was still drenched in the guilt you couldn’t seem to get rid of. However, one thing was made clear that night. Your heart purely and utterly belonged to Na Jaemin alone. Only one thing stayed in your way; he may more may not hate your guts now.

Your palms dripped in a cold sweat as your limbs begrudgingly swam in the air. It was bad enough your dance instructor gave not one, but two lectures about getting distracted to blow your ears dry, but even after that public display of embarrassment, your head couldn’t stop recounting the different ways you could finally tell Na Jaemin the truth; the whole truth.

I want the real thing with you

I don’t just want something fake, Jaemin

I wanna be with you

That last statement threw your cheeks into a heated, rosy frenzy. You cup your hands attempting to hide your horrid thoughts as your dance instructor, with a few deadpan words, sets your class free for the evening. You scurry to the corner, peacefully shoving your things into your bag when Shotaro’s voice suddenly rings behind your ear.

“Y/n? Oh yeah, she’s right over there.”

“Great, thanks.”

You freeze on the spot. You could recognize that voice from a mile away. It was almost concerning on your part.

“Y/n!” The voice yelps, in a tone you hadn’t heard in a while. You smile under your breath. You missed his cheerful voice. You slowly prop up, dropping your bag to the depths of the dance room floor. You pivot on your heel, your chest coming face to face with none other than Na Jaemin, in the flesh. “I need to tell you something.”

After scrambling out of the dance room, certainly not attracting the attention of any unwanted instructors, the two of you hide behind the studio entrance. Jaemin stood just centimeters before you, his breath shivering despite the warmer weather. Although, and you wouldn’t be surprised, but this warm sensation could simply be deriving from your cheeks, which was nothing new.

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you yesterday, I never wanted to be mean to you or anything, I was just… heated, yeah.” Jaemin finally began, scratching the nape of his neck. You didn’t like the fact that he was the one apologizing to you, when you knew it should’ve been the other way around. “You don’t need to say sorry, Jaem. I lashed out too and-”

“I was being all selfish, when I really should’ve been thinking clearly. I-I was jealous when I saw you two together, and I couldn’t take it.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Jealous? He was jealous?

“Truth is… I’ve liked you for some time now, probably ever since we first met. And while the fake date was really fake…” His eyes finally lock yours up, keeping them hostage in his determined glare. “...I really wanted something real between us.”

Jaemin’s hand reached down, cupping your nimble fingers in it as he kept his eye contact tight. His breath hitched as he eyed you, all flustered and adorable with your eyebrows furrowed in a hopeful confusion. Everything about you made him want to cradle you in his arms, never letting go, forever.

“Can I be more than just your roommate, y/n?”

You stayed frozen, mouth gaping wide open at every confession he threw at you. You stayed so still, the only thing visibly moving on your body was the rapid blush zooming through your ears and cheeks, except this time, you didn’t feel the sudden urge to hide such a sensation. Your mind didn’t carry the necessary brian capacity properly function, so naturally, your arms did the job for you.

Your palms cupped the edges of Jaemin’s jaw, a sudden confidence surging through you as you pulled him closer. The tips of your noses collide moments before the surfaces of your lips. You melt into a passion filled kiss, a kiss that’s been pending since the day you first moved in together. Jaemin hugs the small of your waist as you hug his neck. Instinctively, your stomach tucks itself, hiding the embarrassing butterflies fluttering within it. You felt like a celebrity, kissing the campus’ pretty boy; Na Jaemin. Your eyes flicker open.

“Of course you can.”

Your’s and Jaemin’s world crashes back into reality at the sound of a pestering holler, one which Jaemin could only sigh in grief to in response. You turn around only to find a snooping crowd right behind you. Shotaro, joined with two of Jaemin’s friends you first met at the restaurant; Yangyang and Donghyuck, jump for joy at the sight of you two, while a distressed Hina rips her hair out at the fact that she missed the most world shattering confession scene known to man. Jeno, to the right of her, calms her down in a heartbeat. Those two were really perfect for each other. You turn back to Jaemin, a wide grin now taking over his face. He tightens the grip around your hand, a hand that you noticed he’s never let go since he first arrived at your department.

“Do you have another class after this?” “No, why?”

A sly smirk lines his lips as he raises an eyebrow. “Then, shall we go home, darling?”

Gosh, he was such a dork. “Of course.”

…

The long awaited kiss between Hina and Jeno was much more dramatic than any first kiss you could’ve imagined. In fact, it was practically ripped right out the current episode of the drama you and Jaemin had settled down to watch. The air was filled with cheerful hollers roaring from Yangyang and Shotaro and the pathetic wails of Donghyuck realizing that一with Shotaro’s crush on the new girl on campus and the random girl Yangyang met online一he would be the last one standing in the terribly single committeeTM. Jaemin grumbled beside you, his head tucked under your chin as you sat cradled in his arms

“Jeez, Jeno’s stealing my thunder!”

“Let them live, Jaem. They’re in love.”

Jaemin huffed with over exaggeration. “I can’t believe Jeno would betray me like that!”

You pulled Jaemin’s chin up, his face now inches from yours. “Why don’t you forget about them, alright? Just focus on me instead.”

The two of you lean into a kiss, basking in the afternoon sunlight that was peeking through the campus roof. It didn’t matter who was around you anymore, whether they were random strangers or your annoying yet close knit friends. You had already won at life, being the girlfriend of the infamous Na Jaemin; your very special roommate.

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justemmagracethings · 3 years

Text

headcanon // How did Mello join the mafia?

This is long, ok ya it's really long. But, well thought out and makes a lot of sense for that confusing 4.5 years. Also, it is not absolutely depressing like some other theories about how he got into the mafia!

!!!!!READ BELOW!!!!

CONTEXT: this post mentions Machiavelli, basically he believed that you should do anything it takes to get what you want if you believe your cause is just. He wrote about this in his book The Prince written in 1532.

tw // murder, praying, Catholicism

Well after learning of L’s death, as we know Mello runs away from Wammy's house orphanage in Winchester England to live his own life, and 4 1/2 years later he turns up as a mafia Godfather living in LA. Mello tells you that it’s a complicated story but how he wound up where he is now:

helping in the LA BB murder case he did a lot of fieldwork as instructed by L

he even meets Rod Ross while gathering info from gangs about the bb murders (L and Naomi speculated the murders could be related to gang activity due to them all occurring in active gang territory)

Mello uses infiltration to gain their trust and Mello says that he is an abused child who is as seeking refuge from his household and offers to do some minor jobs for the mafia (all non violent of course most of them being basically being a little bitch for the mafia and just washing their motorcycles and shoes and stuff) and they let him hang around unknowing that Mello was essentially an undercover cop but they suspected nothing because they would never imagine the LAPD putting a little kid in that situation (but let’s be real knowing L if that’s what it took to get info he would do it)

Mello manages to impress Rod with his intelligence, fiery temper, and go-getter attitude especially his intense belief in the phrase “ends always justify means” and rod actually doesn’t mind having him around but Rod doesn’t think much of it once Mello leaves to go back to Wammy's house after the murder case’s conclusion, Rod assumes that Mello had run away from the LA area or maybe died

Mello never forgot the sense of tribe the mafia had a feeling of belong he remembered thinking how unstoppable they could be only if they were to be my all complete goons all they needed was someone with some brains and with their money and resources and manpower they would be invincible

however Mello continues his life at Wammy's house and continues his sights on beating near and surpassing L

however, his plans changed when L died

right after Mello stormed out of rogers office Mello takes as many things as he can fit in his bag and sets off on his own

he realizes that he will live by his favorite philosophy The Prince from now on indefinitely, the ends justify the means, it’s better to be feared than loved, and revenge is the strongest motivator to success

he believes his off the charts intelligence will make him useful to the mafia and he can rise to the top there and finally be the best, he makes it his ride or die goal: get to LA. and he has a plan

Mello goes to an English convent to live as a orphan receiving seminary training where he allows people to call him Mihael

he learns all about faith something that he would come to hold dear to him the rest of his life hence the various catholic motifs he wears and decorates his hideouts with and the nuns instill in him humility in the form of wearing black plain clothes with no embellishments other than a few ecclesiastical motifs similar to that he used to wear at Wammy's house which brought back painful memories but regardless it would form a habit he would continue in for the rest of his life in some way

he continued wearing all black every day even after he left but he learned to appreciate fashion in this time and rebelled against this rule after he left the convent commonly wearing flamboyant clothes like feather jackets, leather, fingerless gloves, and chunky belts they also didn’t allow him flavorful food or sweets which he would rebel against constantly always having a candy bar in hand in an act of permanent rebellion

since he is an older child (14-15) the convent has his him do some chore jobs while also doing seminary school Mello is embarrassed to say that he took advantage of that to steal everything he possibly could he stole silver forks, knives, and spoons from the kitchen, he stole from the offer boxes between mass, he even managed to steal a golden candelabra he stashed the cash and pawned off all the items for money he remembered what machiavelli said “the ends always justify the means” if he could make enough money to make it to LA he could catch Kira and avenge L’s death that was what God wanted him to do and if he had to steal from the convent a bit to do that God would forgive him

he made enough money to support himself a little while on his own and fly to LA by the time he was 15 but he thought that maybe he could atone for some sins by at the very least graduating from seminary. he had done so much damage in the name of “ends justifying means” maybe if he could prove himself to be a true vessel of christ he wouldn’t be damned

he booked his flight and he was leaving that night it was also the day he graduated from seminary school as the star pupil he was awarded golden cufflinks, a platinum ecclesiastical ring, and a handcrafted sterling silver beaded rosary embellished with a few red beads leading down to an engraved cross, it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given him

upon receiving his graduation awards he was overwhelmed with regret all he ever wanted was to be loved and accepted and the best and he found it the convent thought he was the best pupil they ever had hence the expensive gifts and wanted nothing more than for him to be their leader their priest and he was going to fly across the world into the unknown hoping a few criminals were still alive and not incarcerated and maybe remembered him well enough to let him into their gang

after becoming beacon of christ brother Mihael did he really want to go back to being lonely orphan Mello? maybe Mello had died after all that time and he should just go on as brother Miahel and become a priest like everyone at the convent expected and invested so much in him to do

Mello fell onto his knees praying to his Virgin Mary tapestry and he felt something telling him “go”

promptly with tears in his eyes he got to his feet and rolled up his tapestry and grabbed the same bag he took from Wammy's house not taking a single article of clothing other than what he was wearing with him

he quietly started the fireplace and burned every belonging he had his sheets, clothes, papers, books, anything that would be a reminder of him ever being there

Mello looked at the bare bed and walls with everyone in the convent asleep he could escape without anyone ever knowing brother Mihael ever existed, well except his graduation gifts ‘i can’t take one more valuable item from this place’ he thought

reluctantly he grabbed his rosary putting it around his neck saying to himself softly “I’ll never forget this place and who I could have become” he thought of L and how L always declared he represented good in the world ‘i will represent righteousness just like L’ he thought

leaving home for the second time Mello watched the image of the convent dissipate into the darkness as he walked away never to see it again

with nothing but the clothes on his back, a tapestry, and the rosary Mello went on to the next phase of his plan

he boarded his flight and made his way across the sea on his way to America, LA, his destiny

Mello touched down in LA and immediately the hot California heat washed over him, it was nothing like the cool and cloudy weather of England

his first step was to go back to the streets of echo park where he remembered rod’s goons frequenting

he was starting to lose hope after 2 nights of walking the streets until dawn scared to fall asleep exposed clutching his rosary be prayed he would find them

after 3 days of sleeplessness and seeking fate smiled upon him, he heard a familiar rev of motorcycle engines and a low growling voice ‘Rod’ he thought

he approached the men on the motorcycles hoping they would remember him only to be met with cackling and they began to move away impulsive and panicked Mello yelled “THE ENDS! THE ENDS ALWAYS JUSTIFY MEANS!!”

Rod stopped in his tracks and turned around looking Mello in his Cerulean blue eyes “Mel-Mello? What the hell you’re alive?”

Mello said finally “I’m here again because i have no where else to go. you were able to make use of me all those years ago. i promise i can be useful again.”

next thing Mello knew he was doing drug runs and lookout for cops during hits on other mobs

then came the thing that changed everything for Mello the mob all sat around the couches of their base screaming about how to get a mob boss that opposed them

“KIRA CAN'T EVEN GET HIM HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO?!?” the men hollered now was Mello’s chance the moment he had been waiting for

Mello laid out his plan with everyone listening in awe “let’s do it“ rod said at last to Mello’s lack of surprise his plan worked out exactly as he wanted ‘too easy’ he thought

finally, the time came for the gang to promote him from errand boy to member his job was to show his commitment to the gang and execute the man his plan apprehended he saw the man bound to a chair Mello heard the haunting choir of the convent in his ears and the sound of the nuns reading the 10 commandments their voice echoed on “thou shall not commit murder”

suddenly Mello swung his blade silencing the voices in his head and making a gushing noise on impact

shaking and panting Mello turned away from all other mafia members tears filled his eyes at what he had done

suddenly his face hardened to a grimace and his blue eyes turned snakelike as he bent over to grab the decapitated head from the ground by the hair turning around to hold it up facing the other men to which they whooped and hollered in his head Mello thought ‘forgive me father. the ends shall justify the means’

after that initiation when Mello was just older than 16 Mello convinced himself that he was dead inside and was imperious to human empathy his once glowing blue eyes became icy holes and his mouth furrowed to a permanent scowl frequently reaching into his pocket to pull out a candy bar biting off a piece with a chuckle and a loud snap

while he didn’t have to get his hands dirty again after that his plans continued to claim lives establishing him as a Godfather of the mafia

he had his goons, he had resources, he was the best, he was accepted, and he seemed to belong, he had everything he ever wanted right?

he reached into his bag that had brought him from his parents apartment, to Wammy's house, to the convent, to the mafia and pulled out his Virgin Mary poster plastering it against the wall, phase 3 of his plan had begun

clutching his rosary he said “Now all i have to do is catch Kira. I'll avenge L and beat Near by any means necessary, and the ends always justify the means.”

#mello #mihael keehl #mello headcanons #death note headcanons

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