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gaiuswrites · 3 years

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King of Cups || Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Five of Pentacles

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | one

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the attack on Jortho, you begin your journey to scower the systems for galactic aid. The Mandalorian takes you aboard his ship temporarily, agreeing to shuttle you to your next destination. You both figure your tenure on the Razor Crest will be short lived... But you've been wrong before.

Word count: 3.8k~

Rating: Mature

Warnings: blood/gore, minor character death (mentioning), mature themes/language, vomiting

Notes: Hi friends. Here we go. Chapter 2... The last paragraph is marked with ///|||///, denoting a change to Mando's POV— his pov will be cropping up now and again, and I have a tendency to play with the timeline/tenses when it does. Enjoy x

You have to think about it. Genuinely.

It takes longer than you’d like to admit, with the Mandalorian looking down at you expectantly, a gloved hand slotted against his belt—postured and waiting.

‘Do you have a way off this skug hole?’

You open your mouth, but no words come out. It snaps closed. You swallow, but the action provides no relief. Your tongue feels too big for the small space it’s trapped in; too swollen, too dust logged— like you could choke on it, if you really tried. Finally, a single syllable frees itself, the weight of it plummeting through your ribs, ricocheting off the bones until it lands in your stomach with a dull, sinking splash.

“No.”

He doesn’t move.

“Do you need to get anything?”

You shake your head, small at first, phantom movements, before stringing together a sentence. “N-No. It’s all gone. Everything I had- it all went up on the shuttle-“

Oh gods, the shuttles.

Your heart seizes, a cold hand like a vice, gripping the bloody organ. You feel green; sickly chartreuse slithering it’s way up your esophagus, poisoning your soft palate. There were pilots on board when the ships blew. Two on each one. That’s four— four people. You knew their names. Knew their home planets. Knew about their families. One had a kid. Fuck. That’s four dead, and you didn’t even think of them— Maker, how could you not have thought about them?— No, fuck, fuck fuck-

It didn’t before but it’s hitting you now, stabbing you right between the eyes, the image of their bodies disintegrating in the blast wave, charring up like coal and carbon. You breathed them in, you realize. Their corpses coat your lungs.

The thought is all it takes.

Your feet move on instinct, scrambling to the side of his gunship where you vomit, bracing yourself against the riveted siding as you hack and sputter, wretching bile and what little broth you’d had for supper to splatter onto the cracked earth. Mercifully you’re hidden enough around the corner that you don’t think the bounty hunter sees, and if he does, he has the curtesy not to say anything.

What a gentleman, you think dryly, wiping your mouth with your sleeve.

You pant, body beyond spent, chest heaving as you press your scratched palm into the durasteel, the cool metal soothing it’s sting. Moments stretch like this— you doubled over, catching your breath— before you stumble back into view, graceless and encumbered, as if you didn’t just casually throw up down the front of yourself. You stand below him at the bottom of the ramp. He’s still there, a fixed point. Steel boots welded into the steel ramp.

“Uhm, are you-“

You cough, and it’s an ugly, hoarse sound; your throat burns, roughened and raw around the edges, and your nerves are too strung out for polite colloquialisms. You don’t have the energy to play coy and tip toe around the question. You’re fucking tired.

You try again.

“Are you offering me a ride?”

And now it’s his turn to hesitate, almost like he didn’t fully think the proposition through— as if it’s all just dawning on him now.

The Mandalorian didn’t strike you as someone who familiarized himself with answering to anyone— or picking up hitchhikers, for that matter— even if the offer was his to begin with... That was what he was doing, wasn’t it? Those words in that order? He meant to give you transport off planet? He wasn’t just… making conversation? Did Mandalorians even do that? Maker, if you’ve read this whole situation wrong, no small thanks to a laser-brain full of mush, you reckon you’d die from embarrassment on the spot where you stood, splotched with soot and puke and blood.

You think he’s going to tell you to shove off— you see his hand balling into a fist at his side— and close the ramp right then and there. Be rid of you. Sluffed, like a flea from a dog.

But he doesn’t. He surprises you both.

“Yes.”

Oh. Oh. Kriff, okay. Think think think-

Your mind reels and you’re rambling now, words ending and beginning in the same breath— steamrolling over yourself.

“Okay, I-I need to go back in to town, just for a—I cant let them think I’m just leaving them like this... Is that okay? I’m sorry, I won’t take long, I promise, I just— they need to know I’m getting help. Is that- uhm, can you wait? Can you wait for me?”

There’s another unreadable pause that makes you want to bury your head in the cold, fallow soil.

The man is looking at you like you’ve grown another kriffing leg, but eventually he grumbles out a noise that sounds like an affirmative, turning on his heel, and disappears into the belly of the ship— leaving you there alone.

Alone.

Pin pricks needle at the nape of your neck and the hair down your arm stands on end.

Alone.

You’re alone for the first time since the attack and suddenly you feel half your size and shrinking smaller still, like atoms collapsing and folding in on themselves until they dematerialize completely—and you along with them. You tell yourself to breath. To fight the bubbles of panic as they burst and pop, dimpling you from the inside out. Breath. Focus, he said. Focus.

You shift your weight from foot to foot, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

The Mandalorian never reemerges.

Well… you guess that was your cue.

///

Staggering back into Jortho is like sleepwalking through a nightmare.

The smoke from the bombing has completely engulfed the lower atmosphere, doming the town in a thick canopy; the sky is blackened, starless, and the moons hover noncommittally like mere suggestions in the dark canvas.

Half the town had been decimated to rubble, and the other half was covered in the shockwave of it’s explosion— caked in grime, windows knocked out, doors splintered open. You almost expected the pieces to have reversed themselves back up, like you’ve seen in holovid special effects—homes rebuilding, fires dousing themselves, air purifying itself from the smog… but they don’t. They remain in shambles.

Time has granted you the unforgiving gift of clarity, and it’s one you’d rather not have been given. You don’t want to see the aftermath without the saccharine filter of shock to cushion you. The town is just as you left it, but somehow worse— worse because you can hear the crying, now. The wailing. You didn’t before with the blood pumping in your ears, deafening you, but you do now. The woeful noises that reverberate over the crackling embers still smoldering, the muffled sobs being choked down behind fractured walls.

Tripping over stray debris, you find Hareem close to where you’d left her, her fuse short hair grey with ash. The blood you smeared from her cheek still clouds her skin there, staining it as it does your fingers that wiped it. She wobbles to her feet and meets you in the middle of the road.

Neither of you speak, not at first. You hold onto her shoulders, and like a pillar of salt, you quake.

You try explaining to her that the communication’s system on your transport freighter had been blown up alongside the town, that you’ve accepted a ride from the bounty hunter and that you’re getting off world to contact the RRM headquarters, that you’d stay if you could but you can’t and you need to call for assistance, for help. You try to tell her that you’d do anything— travel through dimensions, if you could, to undo all of this chaos— if the laws of time allowed it.

You want to go back and pretend today never happened. To unlearn the tremor in your hands as they grip her frame. To unlearn all of this. To unknow. But,

you can’t.

All you can do is move forward. Do the next right thing. Take the next right step.

You’ve explained yourself in circles but it still doesn’t feel like enough. The words feel shallow, like slapping some bacta on a severed limb, and guilt rips through you— your voice torn with it.

“But how can I leave now?” you ask helplessly, eyes skittering around you. “After all- all of this?”

Hareem finds your hands, her spindled fingers encasing your own. A crease engraves her forehead, little lines clustering around her eyes. “You’ve done enough, hm? You go now. Go with that Mandalorian. You can’t shoulder this alone.”

“Har-“

She doesn’t let you say it. The older woman soothes a thumb into the web between your knuckles.

“Make contact. Comm for aid. It will come, but it won’t if you stay here.”

Your shoulders release with a defeated sigh. You know the Balosar’s right— you’re the one who’s told her as much. That’s RRM protocol. In case of emergency, you were to comm in and reconvene with the closest branch to your system to send additional supplies and volunteers to the camp. You know this better than anyone here, and yet this woman, this refugee, was the one aping your mission back to you.

She’s firm. Kind. “You’re just one person.”

Briefly, you wonder if she’s a parent. You think her child would be lucky to have her as their mother-- all of her somber strength. You think you would have been lucky, too.

Maybe things would be different—maybe you’d be different.

You gather yourself, piece by piece, and give her knobby hand a squeeze. You bore into her, determined and unwavering. You need her to understand. “I’m not abandoning you—any of you. I need you to know that, okay? I’m not leaving you alone in this.”

She smiles. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I know, my friend,” Hareem says plainly, a sad sort of resolve quieting her tone. She has no fight left, nothing left to give— as empty as her pockets, lint lined and turned out. Barren. “I know.”

///

You weave your way back to the ship, feet padding across the arid landscape. You don’t blink, not even once, eyes crusted open and gaping. You barely remember the trek but somehow you’ve managed it, treading up the ramp, the thuds sounding hollow and foreign to your ear.

“I’m not a taxi service.”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

“Maker almighty,” you gasp, hand coming up to clutch your canary heart, beating fast and frantic. He’s just standing there, waiting, the dimmed lights of the hull glinting off his beskar. It’d only been a few hours, but you had already somehow forgotten how kriffing imposing he was, how ominous. A vacuum in space.

“O-Okay,” you stutter, a twitch in your brow.

“I’ll get you as far as you need to go, but on my terms. I’m not making a special trip— can’t promise you when.”

You nod. You’re not sure what to say. Lamed, all you can do is repeat yourself.

“… Okay.”

“What sector?”

“Bajic,” you start, fiddling with a loose thread poking from your sleeve. “We- uhm, the RRM, we have a branch there, but then—” your throat bobs as you swallow your words, and he gives you an exacting look, tilting his helm subtly. There was no getting around it.

You’re pinned.

“Coruscant. I’ll need to get to Coruscant,” you finish quietly.

Did you just hear him ‘tsk’ under that metal bucket?

“It’ll take a while to get to the Core. Longer than you’d like.”

And here you go, babbling again before you can stop yourself, throwing up defenses, excuses— back pedaling. You’re earnest, and it’s dripping from you. “Listen, if this is too much, I get it. You don’t owe me anything. Really— you don’t have to take me anywhere you don’t want. I-I, honestly, I’m just grateful you even considered it.”

Silence. An endless sea of silence.

No current, no breeze. It feels like you’re stranded in dead water, drowning in it. Again, you hang there on bated breath, just waiting for the man to chuck you from his ship. Not worth the effort. Not worth the fuel.

And again, he surprises you.

He tips his chin, gesturing to the side. “Fresher’s that way. We’ll be up in five.”

You exhale, visibly relieved, and mumble a thank you before shuffling off in the direction he motioned towards. You get one foot through the door before you hear him.

“Dala,”

Your attention snaps to the Mandalorian. There’s that word again—you think he’s called you that before—but there’s something different in his voice now, a lilt you’d not yet heard from him. What is that? Nerves?

“There is… one more thing.”

You cock your head just as a gargled coo comes from somewhere behind him.

///

You look like bantha shit.

Which, considering the events of your evening, should probably go without saying— and yet, the woman staring back at you in the small refresher mirror still manages to startle you.

You’re covered in dirt and cinders and contusions you hadn’t had the luxury to notice before. With the adrenaline retreated from your veins, you finally feel the full scope of your injuries and Maker do they hurt. Your tunic is torn at the collar and the fabric is discolored, pants and boots scuffed and ashen. Your bottom lip is swollen, a split running down the side of it, the seam of which is cracked with dry blood. Your palms are scratched— knuckles, too. There are narrow licks from shrapnel bites nicking your forearm. Twisting your body, you discover a dark bruise already blooming on your shoulder from the initial impact of the blast. You’re stiff and achy all over, and you can practically hear your bones creak and groan with each strained movement.

You turn on the faucet and begin to bend forward before you wince, a sharp pain gripping your skull. Ginger fingers come up to touch the back of your head, patting around tentatively until you find a raised bump and something viscous wetting the strands of your hair. You pull your hand back, inspecting it— more blood, glistening black under the low light.

Your eyes flit back up to your reflection.

You should be scared at this point, you guess. Worried, at the very least, by all of this—by the gore of it, the cuts and marks. But it’s your eyes that frighten you most— they’re hard. Devoid. You don’t recognize them. You’re a stranger.

You blink. She blinks back.

Rust red water eddies in the basin of the sink as you scrub yourself clean. You let out a hiss as the cold stream hits your skin. You count your breaths.

///

Being anywhere on board his ship without the Mandalorian feels wrong. Unnatural. Like you’re a tourist, out of place.

Unsure of where else to go, you find yourself in the cockpit with the bounty hunter, sitting in the seat beside him. Glancing over the knobs and dials and pulsing displays, your focus drifts in and out, posture slumping, lids growing heavy, darkening around the edges of your vision, blurring—

“Try to stay awake.”

With a sharp inhale, your eyes snap open, blinking wildly, and you scoot your hips up higher into the seat. You shoot the back of his helmet an inquisitive look you’re not sure he sees, but he responds to it all the same.

“Could have a concussion.”

“Didn’t know you were a doctor,” you reply, tone low and rolling. Maker above, apparently the final stage of shock was sarcasm. The fact that you thought it wise to damn near sass a Mandalorian on his own ship after he saved your kriffing life...

Stars, maybe it really was a concussion. Brain damage. Had to be.

He doesn’t acknowledge the quip, which you can’t readily blame him for. A quiet beat, red buttons flickering against the dark of the cockpit, and then—

“There’s bacta in the medpack. Might not be much left.”

You’re wide awake now.

Your rebuttal is immediate, bristled even, words escaping before you have a chance to even consider his suggestion. “No— no, thank you, but I’m not taking the last of your supplies. I’ll be fine, you’re- you’re doing enough for me already.” He graces you with another of his grunts, a hush following closely behind it.

Your gaze wanders—it wanders onto him, and you watch him.

Watch as the stars dance across his armor, incandescent and shimmering. Hypnotic, even. Something you hadn’t noticed before catches your eye, and you have to crane your neck to get a good look at it. It’s hard to make out, but you think there’s a symbol on the pauldron adorning his shoulder. You can’t imagine it’s completely cosmetic, seeing as the hem of his cape is frayed and worn (and the fact that being a lethal hunter didn’t really scream ‘needless decoration’), but maybe, if you work up the courage somewhere between here and Coruscant, you’ll ask him about it.

His posture is carved out of stone and he sits like a statue, spine rigid under all that beskar. Fleetingly, you wonder if it’s heavy, if it’s uncomfortable—to carry it with him wherever he goes. But you suppose he’s grown accustom to the weight, wearing it like a second skin.

He’s broad too, you note. Of course he is, you recognized that straight off, but inside the confines of the ship, without the towering Lothal sky as his backdrop, it truly strikes you just how large the Mandalorian is. He engulfs the space around him. Devours it.

You stay like this, entranced, studying the man properly for the first time, allowing the muscles behind your tired eyes to relax on him— until his visor notches up quickly and meets your line of sight in the mirrored pane of the window, catching you in the act.

Kriff.

You avert your eyes, an embarrassed warmth crawling up your neck, suddenly finding a particular panel soldered to the wall incredibly interesting— looking anywhere else but at the faceless stranger you’re saddled with.

The kid gurgles, interrupting the awkwardness, and you’ve never been more grateful for a three pronged toddler in your life.

He’s sitting in the copilot’s seat opposite you, as if the tiny thing is navigating for the Mandalorian, and he’s completely dwarfed by the massive chair. Everything about him juxtaposes the other man. He’s all brown robes and wispy peach fuzz, and he looks almost comically out of place against the interior of the gunship. He’s playing with a shiny metal ball in his lap, and with one small arm, he extends it to you like a gift.

Out of the two of them, the child was a one man welcoming party.

“Is this for me?”

He gives a soft patuu, and your heart nearly bursts. You take it from him gently, and the little guy coos through a babbling grin, cheeks round and impish. “Thank you,” you tell him, all serious-like, and you have to actively suppress the squeal that threatens to break free from you. He glances to the Mandalorian with such a look in those big eyes; its hard to make out, but you think its something close to pride or satisfaction, maybe: Look dad, I shared my toy.

Kriff, this kid is cute. Like, dangerously cute.

You both take each other in like this; your micro expressions, his pruned little forehead, your fleshy form, all soft lines and angles. You’re sure you look just as strange to him and he does to you, especially given the only other lifeform on board he has as reference is coated from head to toe in metal. The child’s gaze snags on a lock of your hair, little teeth peeking through his mouth, eyes glued to it like a metronome as it dangles. You give your head a little shake, strands waving, and he giggles. You skip the ball over the hills of your knuckles, dazzling him momentarily.

“Does he have a name?” You ask, his eyes like black saucers peering curiously at you, and you give him back his toy— an offer he eagerly accepts.

“No.”

“So what do you call him then?”

“Just ‘kid’.”

A beat. “... Do you have a name?”

“Mando.”

“Just ‘Mando’?”

“This is the Way.”

You nod, worrying your cheek absentmindedly as you stare out the transparisteel. This is the Way. You’re not entirely sure what the phrase meant, but you know respect when you hear it— how reverent it sits on his vocal chords— and by the manner of which the man, this Mando, spoke, you can tell there’s more to those words than you know.

And you can appreciate his desire for anonymity; it doesn’t bother you much—you figure you won't be around long enough for it to matter anyways. You don’t know a lot about the Mandalorian people, but you have heard rumors. Everyone had. That’s all they were anymore: rumors and stories. Legends. Just seeing one was rare, and talking to one even rarer. But flying with one and his adorable, green baby? It was… definitely unique, to say the least.

You share more dulled quiet. And although the silence isn’t entirely uncomfortable now—you’re settling in to it— it’s not exactly desirable either, but it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t last.

Mando clears his throat, breaking the white noise that’s blanketed the three of them. He doesn’t turn his helmet. He keeps his focus straight ahead. You watch his reflection in the ship’s window and you can’t know for certain, but you think you feel your eyes brush against his, if only for a moment. A unintelligible noise filters through his modulator.

“Do you?”

You grin, a slow smile tugging at your lips.

“Last I checked.”

It’s the first smile he draws from you. The first of many.

///

Despite Mando’s warnings and better judgement, sleeping is exactly what you end up doing. You pass out, hard, stirring only once when an errant beep sounds through the cockpit. You’d fallen asleep right there in the chair, chin tucked into your chest, hair fanned across your cheek, arms wrapped around your waist in a measly attempt to trap your body heat to you. You’ve woken to find the cockpit empty— the ship must be on autopilot, you think— and by the illuminating glow of hyperspace, you spot his medkit, sitting open on the seat across from you and in it, nestled among old wrappings and gauze, a single patch of bacta.

///|||///

That smile.

Din remembers this moment, much later, holding it like a photo in a locket. Private. Secret. He keeps you there, gold plated on a chain, to loop around his memory.

Encircling him. Strangling him.

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #mando x fem!reader #King of Cups #ngl i got kinda emotional writing some bits #idk why but the hareem scenes kill me #din djarin fic #mando x you #din djarin x you #no y/n #pedro pascal #mando x female oc #din djarin x female oc #ofc

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dreamties · 4 years

Text

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them.

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship.

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it.

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates.

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing.

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say.

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think)

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them.

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally.

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting.

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do.

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries.

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

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paperclipninja · 5 years

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Younger post-ep recap 6x06

Due to a rather unfortunate run in between my laptop and a glass of water I lost my original ramble for this week’s Younger (as well as the actual laptop so R.I.P Lappy, you were actually pretty terrible but we had a good run). So instead of my usual review I thought I’d do more of a recap and refresher of the last episode to get us prepped, primed and pumped (aka the 3 P's) for the next installment (ep7).

Episode 6 of Younger was in many ways so bonkers that it shouldn’t have worked, but somehow all the pieces came together and it did .Oh boy did it ever! I outright belly laughed a number of times throughout and I think my dog was mildly concerned for my well-being because there were actual tears coming out my eyes at a couple of points. I’m a sucker for a pun so ‘Merger, She Wrote’ had me at hello (you could say my hopes for the ep were high...yes I did and #notsorry). What I wouldn’t have given to be in the room to see the reactions to a script with ‘Liza goes to talk to the nurse who is actually a plant’ in it. So yes there were LOLs galore but most importantly, by the end of the ep order had been restored following the upheaval of the past 6 episodes (which is about the limit viewers can take sitting in the discomfort of an unfamiliar detour from the norm IMO: think the Bryce Reiger arc in season 3 and the Charles finding out the lie in season 5...it’s almost as though Darren and co. have done this before...), Finally the fam is back together at Millennial (or is it Mercennial now?)

Straight off the bat I was very distracted for most of the opening scene by Liza’s dress and look in general because it was AMAZING. I am loving all the Maggie/Liza in the morning scenes we’re getting this season and Maggie in a blue coverall embarking on a DIY rope harness ceiling painting project...what could possibly go wrong? I felt mildly uncomfortable at how relatable Maggie’s not being served for 10 mins in a bar and sneaking out to the fridge in the night were, but was also mildly mesmerized by Liza’s coffee mug that looked like some kind of old-timey wash basin (turns out this was not relevant to the story but noted nonetheless). Maggie also offers the very straight forward solution of merging the two companies to alleviate the tension that’s putting Liza and Charles in ‘not a good place’ and I love that her ‘bing, bang, boom’ is echoed by Liza when she floats the idea with Charles later in the ep.

The' Microdosing' book pitch provided us with the set up for the retreat and my fave thing about this scene was how IN character all the characters reactions were to it all; Diana is flat out appalled by the whole thing, Liza is Captain Cautious but trying to play it cool and Kelsey looks like she’s seeing colour for the first time and would 100% pledge her devotion to Travis in any kind of cult situation.

What might have seemed out of character, but actually ended up so perfectly capturing the way she always does everything with absolute gusto, was Diana's foray into boomer erotica narration (as Liza so eloquently put it, 'I think we just found our Seasoned Slut'. These lines, I swear *rofl emoji* ) I think I laughed through the entire scene of Diana in the recording studio, I mean, Miriam Shor's delivery of every line just kills me, but the highlight was undoubtedly when she suggested she could hit nipple a little harder and affirmed 'throbbing nipple' to herself as she walked back to the booth. Zane and creepy af Audrey Colbert waiting allowed for Diana to unsubtly hot foot it out of there, which was a great throwback to her refusal to be in the same room as Audrey in ep 3.

It was a also great opportunity to bring Zane and Kelsey back together and who doesn't love an awks 'accidentally had the mic open and didn't realize' moment when you're talking about how your author is definitely a murderer? I feel like Audrey may go and find another publisher now (just a hunch) but I would really like to see more of her because this character is a type of unhinged that we haven't seen on this show and I think that could be a lot of fun to see play out. I have to say that Kelsey Peters is NOT someone I picked as a boop-er of noses, yet there she was at the bar, booping Zane's nose and this was my favourite interaction of theirs in the series. I was totally digging the dynamic this ep and it will be very interesting to see what that will look like with the new work arrangements. Also, where was Zane when that was all going down btw? I assume Charles filled him in on the bringing the companies together plan before it happened?

Liza's excitement when she told Charles the idea of merging the two companies was endearing and I am unabashedly a big fan of Charles, but his attempt at convincing Liza to join him at Mercury after she tells him that she won't leave Millennial and Kelsey, by saying he left his company to be with her, was super shitty. But it was also super necessary. Because at some point this needed to be said and most importantly, Liza needed to call him out on it and let him know that he cannot use it as a bargaining chip. One of the things I love most about the Charles/Liza dynamic (aside from all the things, but that's another essay) is that Liza is her own advocate in this relationship, she will stand her ground when something is important to her and does not compromise herself to appease Charles. He is equally as stubborn but they are able to have the hard conversations that need to be had but this doesn’t lead them to question whether they want to be together (I very much appreciated the kiss on the cheek Liza gave Charles before she left for this very reason).

So of course being on a psychedelics retreat together when they've hit a roadblock in the relationship was definitely a very good idea...Well it was for us as viewers at least, because pretty much from the moment they arrive and Liza and Charles start talking straight to camera as the literal doctor (my god that whole line just cracked me up) informs them they'll be taking not-LSD, we know we're not in Kansas anymore Toto. Enter Josh for *insert drama here* purposes (and I do think he should franchise Inkburg coz why not?) and we have, ladies and gentlefolk, a recipe for some next level hilarity. But not before Josh and Liza share a lingering look as they take their dose of illicit substance to ensure that Lizs's trip includes one down memory lane.

I have made my feelings about love triangles known many times (quick recap: hard dislike. Tricky to pull off without one or more characters looking bad. Very tiring as a viewer and quite frankly I am pretty lazy and tired most of the time irl so just don't want it on my screen), however I will say that I did not see this ep as re-stoking the love triangle, I saw it as simply reminding us that it is there and can be reignited by the writers at any stage. Within the context of everything that was happening, Liza hallucinating Josh at her door actually made sense and I have no doubt that various factions of Younger fans had meltdowns at that moment for very different reasons.. Sutton Foster's physical comedy throughout this whole ep was second to none, starting at her realization that it was, in fact, Charles who had come to her room and continuing the next morning at breakfast.

Speaking of which, there was something about seeing Liza and Charles in the breakfast room together that made my sappy heart swell, it had such a vacay feel and I'm sure if you muted your volume you could pretend they were just listening to the activities for the day before going off to spend some quality time together...I mean, maybe that would be a thing, I wouldn't know....where was I? Oh yes, the unfolding of a series of comedy golden McNuggets™ that I am still laughing about. We learn that Liza is a supertaster (for those like me who pretended they understood what that meant but then realized they did not, I googled it and it means that she is sensitive to the drugs and basically the microdose affects her like a full dose, you're welcome) and I am chuckling even now when I think about Josh's, 'hey guys' in Charles' voice as he joins the table.

This is another one of those concepts that I feel like could've not worked at all but sweet lawd, the Charles and Josh voice swap scene was next level and I could watch this and the scene that follows over and over and never not laugh. I again LOVE the decision to have the guys talk to camera because it absolutely emphasizes the whole situation and Liza sidestepping away to visit the nurse just rounded off the whole crazy caper.

I have no words to describe how much I love the flat out ridiculous perfection of the visit to Nurse Maureen. Yes Liza has the epiphany that Josh and Charles bring out different things in her (though hot sex seems to be at the core of both so ya know, sounds like a win in the past and present and good for her on both accounts) and again, the unlikely scenario that her ex and current boyfriends are in the same place at the same time (while she is taking mind altering substance) has just played out so it also makes sense in this context. Quite frankly I'm shipping her and Maureen pretty hard at this point because a) it is not easy to pull off eyeshadow that green and b) everyone deserves someone in their life who has the kind of belief in Liza that Maureen does when she tells her 'I bet you can' dance just like me. I don't even know how to explain whatever that dance is but I just know that I want someone/something in my life that will windmill their/it's arms at me with such fervor that I find myself dancing with two attractive men in tuxedos on a galaxy stage.

I cannot express the joy I felt watching the entire dance scene, it was all just so. much. fun. But my absolute hands down favourite moment was when it cut back to the retreat and we, along with Charles and Josh, discover that Liza is in fact dancing with 'Maureen' the plant and seriously, this is up there with my highlights of the entire series. That and the reveal that the selfies Liza was taking were sent to Diana (Diana speaking to Liza in her 'sexy' voice, asking 'where is my plant?', Liza's, 'Maureen', I just cannot with every part of this glorious tie in at the end of the ep. I am sending Ashley Skidmore a houseplant to express my gratitude for gifting us with these moments*). Seeing Josh and Charles together was great but it was clear a scene was missing and I am SO glad that Younger released the deleted conversation between the two of them coz it was both necessary because YES and also because it suddenly made Charles' entire conversation and reason for his decision to sell Mercury make sense (ie. was pretty pivotal).

I big A adored Charles and Liza's conversation (and outfits and aesthetic overall) as they're leaving the retreat, the shift in Charles is palpable and it's just such a credit to the writing and acting to be able to convey so much in such a brief scene. Maggie of course experienced quite the shift herself, from ceiling to floor, with a sufficient amount of dangling as her helpful neighbourly pervert got himself off as she got herself down. But most importantly, Maggie got her mojo back (though is she not currently dating Beth? In which case location of missing mojo: unclear).

Now I gotta tell you, the final scene of this week's ep up and got me. Big time. Kelsey's earlier comment, that she really hates competing with Charles, certainly added weight to the resolution we've all been waiting for this season. Charles' honesty about his realisation that he is hurting his family, not to mention him confirming that he means Kelsey, Diana and Liza and that he wants to come home, ugh, my insides are gooey just writing these words, leads to his offer to Kesley and honestly, the interactions between all of them in this scene was wonderful. I loved that Kelsey held the room, that Charles was putting the offer to her from one businessperson to another (though thank goodness Diana was there to point out the difference between $1 and $1000000 eek! Also, I get that it would never occur to anyone that the price would be $1 so I'll cut Kels some slack). Diana looks like she is going to cry at any moment from elation and I love the way Kelsey asks for the approval of the ladies before shaking Charles' hand. This will forever be one of my favourite scenes on this show.

The thought of Charles coming back and working as an editor alongside Liza is an actual dream. I mean, I am very happy to be taken on the journey the writers set, but I have legit wondered what it would be like to see him in that role and he and Liza working together properly as equals and I absolutely cannot believe it's going to happen.

Well this ended up being quite a bit longer than I expected (lol, what a surprise). Bring on episode 7!

*I will not in fact be sending Ashley Skidmore a houseplant because I live in a very far away country, it would cost a lot of money and it is 1000% creepy to receive a dead plant from a stranger.

#youngertv #younger tv #recap #6x06 #liza miller #charles brooks #diana trout #kelsey peters #ramble #younger season 6

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itsbuckysworld · 6 years

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Little One

Request: @hat-r said: hiiii can i have an imagine where the reader is part of the cast and its an off day for taping so she goes to work out w the cast and evans and seb notices a guy checking her out and they go extra protective since shes young like holland and they see her as their little sister, thank youuu

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader x Sebastian Stan (platonic) Guest Appearance: Anthony Mackie, RDJr, Elizabeth Olsen, Mark Ruffalo, Tom Holland, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch.

Warning: NO INFINITY WAR SPOILERS. Just cute platonic fluff. A random guy being v pushy.

A/N: I got this request and really liked thinking about Seb and Chris being protective over you, that just melts my little babbu heart. I bet they would be so cute and caring, and the cast as well, so it was very fun to write this. Smooches! xoxo, - L

MAY I JUST ADD I WROTE EVERYTHING IN THIS WRONG? LIKE A COMPLETE DIFFERENT THING IN THE SAME WAVELENGTH AS YOUR REQUEST, AND THANK GOD I REALIZED BEFORE I FINISHED IT, BUT I WROTE A FULL 1K WORDS OF SOMETHING YOU DID NOT REQUEST AND THEN I WAS LIKE WAIT WHAT AM I WRITING THIS IS NOT WHAT THE PERSON REQUESTED! SO IT TOOK ME A LITTLE LONGER CAUSE BASICALLY I WROTE TWO BLURBS. Maybe i’ll finish the other one day and post it separately lmao im stupid.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Y/N your name | Y/L/N your last name | masterlist

To say you were the happiest person on earth would be an understatement. You were beyond ecstatic to be working next to the avengers once more, and now with the full team, no less.

When the Russo brothers called your manager to inform you that your character played a role in the Infinity War movie you nearly fell out of your seat. You had always loved all of the Marvel Universe, and two years ago when you were cast for a small yet somewhat important role in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, you couldn’t care less about the size of your part, you just wanted to be there. In the end it seemed like your character played an important detail in Infinity War as well and there you were being called back to set with the world’s mightiest heroes.

The first week of table reads gave you the chance to meet the few of the team you had yet to know and thanks to the previous movie you were in, you were quickly engulfed in Mackie, Scarlett, Sebastian and Chris’s arms upon arriving. Out of the whole cast you knew them the most, and throughout the filming you had formed quite a bond.

Sebastian even pulled out a chair, forcing you between him and Chris as you joked around before getting serious and in character for the script reads.

Now, almost a year later, Infinity War was almost wrapped up and it had been the most amazing time of your life. The cast was a delight and the team making all the movie magic happen was even more so. You were glad to have landed yourself a spot in the middle of the crazy family that The Avengers were on and off set. Getting a chance to talk all girl-things with Scarlett and Elizabeth, cracking jokes and sharing memes with Tom Holland who was around your age, having arguments over food with Mackie and Chris Hemsworth, and sharing words of wisdom and never-ending banter with Benedict and Robert. Not to mention teasing Ruffalo over the fact that you had read the full script, and he couldn’t know because of his tendency to spoil everything. It was a very gratifying experience, and you didn’t mind the early calls and late nights a single bit as the movie geared up to be one of the greatest from Marvel so far.

And it was that family-like mindset they shared, on and off set, that quickly made you the little sister of the bunch. This was your third big role ever, so it was fair to say you were kind of new to the whole filming industry. CA:TWS had put you out there, and landed you a couple of guest appearances here and there, along with an upcoming TV show that even had Sebastian cast for a couple of episodes later in the year about which you couldn’t be more excited about. It was always fun to have him and/or Chris around, and they had named themselves your protective on-set-dads thanks to the love they had for you.

That protectiveness shone through each time you insisted on doing your own stunts and they double and triple checked with you more than the actual stunt team, just making sure that you were ready for that 13 feet drop or that mortal flip. “It’s okay, dads” you’d joke, but smile at them thankfully because it was nice that they cared.

But you could only do your own stunts thanks to the amazing workout schedule and routine the film helped you obtain. The whole cast needed to be on top of their physical activity for the movie and you were grateful for the bonds you made because you had never been a fan of the gym, except there was always someone ready to train with you on off days and the gym was never boring for once.

It was one of those rare but wonderful break days, and a couple of you decided to go train together. Chris and Seb hit the weights, starting with their arm routine, as you rushed to join Mackie who had arrived earlier and was doing – of course – legs. “Gotta get those quads ready for action Y/N” Anthony joked the moment you sat by him ready to stretch and follow his routine for a bit. “I’m doing a bit of everything today, Mack. Didn’t exercise at all last week” you give him a soft smile and continue pushing and pulling your limbs to warm up.

A mere thirty minutes later you were doing a set of warm up lunges and squats without weights by the aerobics section of the gym. Your legs were already burning, and you had to admit you had a love-hate relationship with lunges. God did they hurt but god did they work.

And you weren’t the only one who was thinking that they worked. Right behind you, but still at a safe distance – the few spaces the gym-logic demanded people respectfully kept between you and the next person going through their workout – was a man, in his late thirties and with the type of workout shorts you always thought were too short for men to wear to the gym, could affirm that yes, lunges do work, as he stares you up and down without you noticing.

He had started looking the moment you walked into the gym with three other dudes, his mind wondering if he could get in on that action. And when you finally separated from them, his ogling turned more obvious and more careless. He was eating you with his eyes and you hadn’t paid attention to him, to engrossed in your work out and focused on getting the best results to care for stupid distractions.

Not to busy to stop being protective and attentive, Chris and Sebastian had taken note of the man very early on. They hadn’t said a thing because every body looks when someone enters the gym, and they were getting looked at by girls all around too. It was normal to peek out of curiosity, to wonder ‘aren’t those the actors?’ or something of the sort, but they never stopped looking over every once in a while, just making sure the staring stopped or it was as innocent as when they looked at you in your skin tight suit that resembled Scarlett’s, when on set.

It wasn’t like that.

As Chris set down the dumbbells and started switching positions for Sebastian’s turn, Anthony approached them. “Gonna hit the showers” they both nodded and their eyes followed Anthony’s body for a moment before landing on you. “Dude” Seb announced, slapping Chris’ shoulder and lifting his chin in your direction. Immediate worry and slight rage coursed through their veins. “Are you serious?” Sebastian muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair to get the medium length strands back in check. “What the hell’s wrong with this pervert” Chris murmured, the two men not realizing that their feet had started to slowly move them towards you, ready to take off in case you needed their help. They let Anthony know that they had noticed the creepy weirdo since they arrived but now he was being really disrespectful and not at all innocent or cautious of his looks.

The man started stepping closer to you, chatting you up as you took a break from your routine and that’s what immediately set them off. They couldn’t tell what the creep was saying to you from where they stood, but they could tell you were uncomfortable and his intentions weren’t the best. Hopping over bars and equipment they charged over to your shrinking body. If this dude laid a finger on you or made you an ounce more uncomfortable and creeped out than you already were, they would put their good superhero training to good use and cause a ruckus for sure.

“That’s a good routine you’re doing there” they heard the man say as they closed the few feet between their bodies and yours. “Uh” you didn’t know what to say, all you wanted to do was run or tell the man off, but he looked like the type to not leave after a simple warning. Looking to your side to find Sebastian and Chris, with their mean faces on and bulging muscles thanks to their workout, had never made you feel more relieved. “Everything okay here?” the blonde one said, putting his body between yours and the guy’s, eyeing him up and down, forcing him to step back and not invade your personal space any longer. Before you could say anything, let them know how uncomfortable you were, Sebastian laid a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile before turning back to angrily stare down the guy. “Hey man, just making conversation with the pretty girl” the sleazy man said with a grin that made you want to puke. “I think the pretty girl doesn’t want to talk, so take a hint, yeah?” Sebastian murmurs, blue eyes piercing, as if he’s telepathically communicating to the guy ‘back the fuck off’. It seems to work because he’s taking a small step back. “Jeez, didn’t think people had guard dogs in 2017” “Well she has a couple of those, and they bite” Sebastian smirked at him, one smirk that let him know if he wanted to so much attempt anything against them or come close to you, he wouldn’t live to tell it. “Chill dude” the guy said shakily, clearly scared off as you relaxed into Sebastian’s embrace “Of course, dude” Chris faked a dry laugh along with the line, one of his hands placing itself on the man’s shoulder and squeezing, hard enough that you can tell it must have hurt “Tell you what” he smiled at him “how about we don’t harass young girls at the gym anymore, yeah? And then we’re all ‘chill’ ” He let the guy go with a small shove and you looked from behind Chris’ broad shoulder in time to see the creepy man scurry away and out of the building.

Your cheeks flush red at the situation, how you totally froze when the weird guy approached you and how you felt a little embarrassed that Chris and Seb had to swoop in and save the day, yet grateful that they did, like the superheroes they were on camera. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?” Chris asked worried, hunching down to your height and running his electric blue eyes over your frame, looking for who knows what, but just making sure you were 100% perfect. “I’m okay, and no he didn’t. I just... that was weird, I feel gross” “It’s okay, doll” Sebastian finished, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and pulling you into his arms for a quick hug. “We’re always looking out for you, little one” and you smiled up at him, moving your arm to get Chris in on the hug as well. You felt very protected if they were around, like you would never be alone and in danger if they had a say in it. “Yo, I saw a little bit of that, everything okay?” You heard Anthony say. He had a fresh set of clothes and his gym bag on his shoulder as he rushed to where the three of his friends shared a comforting hug. “Just a creep trying to hit on Y/N here” Evans said with a grin. “Yeah but my two over protective and ever so caring dads roughed him up a bit” you say, a little more calm now and poking your blonde and brunette friends on their side. Anthony chuckled lovingly, crossing his arms in front of him. “Well you’re about to have a third dad scaring off creeps whenever you need, cause I care about you too, Y/N” Anthony said causing you to laugh and bring him into the hug as well.

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neen-writes · 7 years

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Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 9

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime. Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again. The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building. But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.

Note: I have very little to say about this one, much of it is the same, a little fluffing here and there, but I already love this chapter so much I didn’t want to change much. Enjoy the angst again!

Read the Reforged chapters on FF.net here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!! AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8

Levy awoke on her stomach, surrounded by warmth. The blunette blinked slowly, squirming a little under the blanket and taking a moment to remember why she was on the sofa. She turned her head, pressing her face into the cushion, and glimpsed the figure on the floor lit by the early morning light. Her cheeks turned pink at the realization, Oh. She shifted to try and rub her face, but her right hand was held in place by something. When she tried to pull her hand back, there was a gentle squeeze. Levy scooted carefully to look over the edge of the couch, and couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face.

Gajeel had settled onto his back on the floor, with the second blanket she had brought out last night pulled over him. His hair was spread out beneath him and partially over his peaceful face. One arm was tucked behind his head, supporting it, and the left was across his chest… with his hand holding hers. Levy couldn’t help but marvel at the size difference, how tiny her fingers were laced between his.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, their hands had found each other. And if Levy wasn’t so worried about waking him and breaking contact, she might have started flailing because, Oh my god he’s holding my hand. He’s holding my hand and we slept in the same place and what am I supposed to do.

There was another squeeze of her hand, and a long intake of breath. “You’re an open book, shrimp…” His husky, sleep-laden voice broke the silence, and he cracked open an eye to look at her. “Could you freak out a little louder?”

What! I didn’t make a sound! she thought frantically, eyes widening.

At the sight of her, saucer-eyed, red, peeking over the couch cushion down at him, he couldn’t help himself. “Gi-hi-hi!” A hearty chuckle, the kind that pricks at the corners of your eyes with mirth. “You okay up there?” he teased, flashing a fanged smile in his attempt to hide the fact that his own heart was racing as well.

“Mhm…!” she hummed anxiously, pressing her face back into cushion a little more. Before realizing it, her grip tightened on his hand.

Gajeel glanced down at their hands, then back up at her. “Is this okay?”

Levy paused a moment, before slowly nodding her head. He squeezed her hand a little in response, and she swore she could see a tension she hadn’t noticed previously leave him. “Good,” he replied, keeping his piercing gaze on her for a moment longer before looking back to their hands.

“Did you sleep okay?” Levy asked, gently.

“Mhm,” he hummed to the affirmative. It was a simple reply for such a significant fact. Like that first night he spent here, he slept heavily and without the nightmares that plagued him regularly. It was still something he wasn’t quite adjusted to.

“You didn't change last night,” she pointed out, noting that she hadn't seen his iron scales for some time.

Not having the dreams or sleeping in THAT place probably helps… so, you're to thank for that, he thought. “How about that,” Gajeel mused, before lifting up her hand in his a bit. Gently, like handling glass, he moved her hand around in his grasp as though studying it. “They’re so small,” he remarked, and Levy felt protest rise in her. But she couldn’t say anything, not daring shatter the peaceful quiet. She could only watch him, and watch how unspeakably gentle he was with her.

“How’s someone so small let someone like me in?” he finally asked, his eyes avoiding her face. “Why ain't ya afraid?” It was a question that wouldn’t leave him alone, and that swirled every time he saw her. It was the only question that made sense to ask, because nothing else did.

The woman lifted her brows, feeling that it was a silly thing to ask her now of all times. But the way he finally turned his eyes to her, waiting for an answer, she realized. He was still waiting for her to lie to him, to betray him. She saw that she could have broken him with such painful ease with the wrong words, and that trauma-made fragility nearly broke her.

“Because I don’t need to be,” Levy finally answered frankly. “I see you, and not how you see yourself.” Her thoughts drifted back to the article she had read yesterday, before she stuffed them back again for later. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Gajeel wondered how he looked in that moment, because her words hit him harder than anything he had ever felt before. Harder than any nightmare or flashback. I would never. He looked now to the healing scab at her hairline. Never on purpose, he amended, and his stomach twisted a little at the possibility that he could, unintentionally. Just because of what he was. But god, I swear. I will never let anything hurt you. As long as you let me, I’ll to protect you. His thoughts ran before he could fully realize what he was saying. How quickly she had become that for him, from the first time she had shifted to actually speak to him as an equal and not as a beast. He craved every conversation, every visit, and every sight of that blue-haired woman that found it in her to smile at him. And oh lord, that smile. Every time it silenced everything, and instead of the roiling, anxious beast that lived in his chest, warmth blossomed and burned it away, little by little. As much as he sought her out and latched onto her like a cure for darkness, the most stunning part was that she seemed to want him there just as much.

“I know you think you are, but you’re not that monster hiding in the dark. Not like the stories. You have kindness in you. And you’re a person,” Levy continued, shifting her hand to intertwine her fingers back into his again, “Just as deserving of love and kindness as anyone else.”

Gajeel’s eyes widened and he searched her face, but with flushed cheeks she kept her gaze on their hands. She knew what she was saying, and now felt like the best time to say it. She didn’t know what her feelings meant, she didn’t know how far they went, but not one word of that sentence felt wrong.

The silence that followed was almost suffocating, but relieving at the same time. His lack of a response was disappointing, but then again she really couldn’t expect a response. She had been intentionally indirect, and he had no obligation to give her a response. No part of this was normal and he wasn’t exactly accustomed to interacting with others. She understood the stunned silence; who else had said such a thing to him in the last 6 years? Who had even given him an ounce of kindness?

Levy, finally, put on a warm, disarming smile and looked to him. Gajeel could have sworn that his heart stopped right then, and his throat went painfully dry. Fucking say something, his thoughts screamed at him. Jackass, say SOMETHING!

“Lucy knows I work today, so she shouldn’t be over, you don’t have to worry. If anyone does come, go into the master. No one goes in there.” She took her hand from his and sat up, and Gajeel abruptly followed suit. But she kept talking before he could say anything, “I want you to have anything that’s in the closet in that bedroom. Obviously you won’t be able to use half of it,” she looked to the side briefly, “But the rest of it, if you want it, is yours.” She was more than happy to help him into normal clothing, and to finally put good use to something that had sat stagnant for years.

Before she stood, she placed a hand on his cheek, smiled again, and with iron resolve leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead. She intentionally gave him no time to react–he couldn’t have anyway, completely frozen in the spot–and headed off with a bounce in her step into her room to change, closing the door quietly behind her.

Levy’s face went straight into her hands, both to decompress her raging nerves and try to contain her relief at voicing how she felt. Or least how she was starting to. So much for things not being complicated.

No, it didn’t make sense. Yes, it was crazy. But what she had just done in the living room felt so natural, easy, and like it was something she could do every day. I thought it was just because I wanted him to be okay, to help him. Because no one ever has, and he has been hurt… so badly, by so many people. Levy slowly lifted her face back from her hands, leaving one cupped over her mouth. But that’s not the only reason I…

She peeled her hands off her face and looked up into her room. It was early, she still had some time. And as much as she felt like running from the absolute embarrassment, she also didn’t want to leave him just yet.

Several minutes later, Levy emerged in her work clothes, a simple blue button down and khaki pants, with her hair pulled back into a small ponytail. To her surprise, Gajeel was in the exact spot she had left him, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Still as a cautious animal. And there was fear on his face, but it was… different.

His red eyes widened just slightly, expectantly, when she stepped back out. “I have some time, if you’re hungry, to make some breakfast. I know you prefer… the other stuff. But I have been told I make great scrambled eggs?” She flashed another smile at him, and he looked like he had been punched in the gut.

Slowly, Gajeel nodded, and watched her flit into the kitchen. He stood, lost for a moment with what to do, or how to interact with her. He had already fumbled once, and really had no intention of doing that again. So the best thing to do, was to sit down at her table and keep his mouth shut. Couldn’t make an ass of himself if he didn’t say anything.

Levy didn’t pay him any mind when he pulled out the chair and sat. Partially because she was focusing on her cooking, and partially because she felt about as awkward as he did.

“What all are you making…?” Gajeel finally broke the silence, and earned a side glance from her.

“Bacon and eggs. A classic,” Levy replied.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had it,” he admitted, quietly.

The woman paused, not quite expecting the answer even though she should have. After that moment, she resumed cooking, pushing the eggs around and then using tongs to flip over the bacon. “Do you remember… much?”

“Pieces. I did find my file once, after the collapse. It gave me… basic information,” he answered, his voice tight.

“Do you still have that?”

A beat of silence. “No,” he responded, almost as a growl. “I destroyed it.”

Levy glanced back at him again, seeing that he was resting his chin on his fists, staring out the double doors to the snow outside. “Why?” she asked, unsure why she needed to know.

“Because they destroyed him. Me,” his eyes flicked back to her. “He didn’t exist anymore, so I just took away the last piece.”

Levy put all her attention back on the nearly finished food, pulling out two plates. “Oh,” she replied, uselessly. “What if you could? Exist again, I mean?” Levy asked, carefully.

Now he looked to her fully, eyes intense with a wildness that had been cultivated over years. “I can’t,” he replied, more forcefully than he had intended. “I never can. Not as long as they… he, is still out there. I could be brought… back. Retrieved. And I don’t plan to ever let that happen.”

Levy didn’t know what to say to that. It was a fear she couldn’t comprehend, and therefore there were no words she could offer.

Gajeel beat himself mentally, realizing now that he had ruined the mood. Way to go, lord of darkness. He didn’t quite look at her as she set the food in front of him, but he did utter a small ‘thank you.’ She sat down across from him, and he could feel her eyes on him, but he was scared to look up again.

They ate in silence, until finally Levy glanced at the clock. “I should go,” she said finally, “I get off at 5.”

He glanced up at her, words a loss for him now, too. But still, she smiled at him, and left without another word.

If she thought she had been distracted earlier in the week, it was nothing compared to her state now. Fortunately the weather today kept the shop more or less dead. Books weren’t quite enough to entice people--or, people that weren’t her--to come out in the miserable cold.

Which was fine with her, because it gave her time to replay the last few days over and over in her head. The image of him, asleep, and her hand in his, was seared into her mind and kept a smile on her face. Regardless of how awkward the morning had been. She still had a hard time wrapping her head around how large he was, how strong she had seen him be, and how gently he held her hand in that moment. It had given her such a strong sense of safety, and security, and that was likely why she had the courage to say what she did.

No, he hadn’t said anything when he really could have this morning. Aside from dark lapse at the table, and she could justify that. But she had still moved forward significantly with him, and even if he hadn’t replied, his actions were clear. Levy had a tendency to read too much into things, but there were things that he did that she felt were obvious.

She began to wonder how she was going to continue to hide this from Lucy, a fact she hadn’t fully considered when she had essentially offered her home to the dragon. Her friend wasn’t dense, she would pick up sooner or later that something was up. It wasn’t something she had brought up with Gajeel since he first told her, sternly, to never let another person know she was coming to see him. That seemed like forever ago, but she knew his sentiments wouldn’t have changed, especially after the brief discussion at her table. He was still so afraid, so broken by what had been done to him, and what could still happen to him. Was his only option to live in terrified secrecy? Did he have no other prospect?

The weight of what she had offered to him started to settle in. She didn’t just offer him a place to live, but a hiding place. For how long? Was there ever a chance that he could find a place in the world again after what he had been made into?

The ring of the front door brought her abruptly out of her head. Levy looked over her shoulder at the customer and smiled, “Welcome!” she called cheerily. The man, dressed in a coat, barely gave her any more acknowledgement other than a small hum and a tilt of his head. “Let me know if I can help you find anything today,” she added, prompting him to look at her this time. Huh, he’s new, she thought, looking the man over. His reddish black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he had a dramatic, long mustache to match. Well, that’s a statement.

“Where could I get access to public records around here?” he asked, eyes wandering around the bookstore with what looked like an annoyed grimace. Like someone who had spent a long while fruitlessly looking for something.

“Oh, those would be at the library. On 4th and Draper,” she replied, keeping pleasant regardless of his cold demeanor.

He set his gaze back on Levy, and the girl couldn’t help but shift uneasily. The man furrowed his brow a second, then seemed to recognize something. His brows lifted. “Ahh, I thought the hair was familiar. I think I met you, abruptly, heading there yesterday.” He now flashed a lopsided grin. Levy stiffened, feeling an odd chill slither down her spine, but she kept on a tense smile.

He was the one she bumped into, who picked up the notebook and handed it back to her. “Oh no, I’m so sorry about that sir, I was in a hurry and not paying attention!” She put up a fake laugh, trying to quell the nervous twist in her stomach. Who is he?

“It’s fine,” he trailed off, before he glanced at her name tag, “Levy. Lovely name. Very unique,” he commented, “Since I’m here, where is the history section?” he asked finally, tilting his head, “I’m a collector.”

It took Levy a moment to collect herself, since his request was mundane enough. “Ah, history is right over here. There are tabs hanging from the shelves with the categories.” Levy beckoned him a couple of aisles over and pointed out the large selection. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with.”

The man, unexpectedly, placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her in a way that made her feel he was privy to something she was unaware of. “Oh, I will, miss,” he grinned again and released her, and Levy was more than willing to leave him to his devices to return to the register. She tried to clean, to not seem so uncomfortable in his presence. Because besides the fact that he had nearly seen the inside of the notebook yesterday, there was just something unsettling about him that she couldn't put her finger on. But he really just seemed like a man looking for some history texts.

The man finally came up to her desk, placing several books on the counter. The array of titles quickly eased her previous worry. Several history texts, and then one more: ‘Fiore: Myths and Legends.’ “I’ll take these,” he said while pulling out his wallet.

Cold dread settled in her gut. That was the same book that had lead her to the lab in the first place. But in the mix of all the others, it felt just like a coincidence. Levy nodded and rang him up.

“Thank you, Miss McGarden.” And with that, he gave a small flourish with his hand to bid her farewell before disappearing outside.

What a strange person, Levy thought, standing there while chewing on her fingernail. She was left again in silence after he left, and she replayed the whole interaction over in her head. The more she played it over, the more mundane it seemed. He was just an odd stranger, looking for books. There was no real reason to set off an already unsteady Gajeel for what could have just been a coincidental encounter.

She occupied herself with organizing and some occasional reading of the rest of the day, trying to move past it. Rereading a few chapters of some of her old favorites helped, and in the midst of it she was struck with an idea. I should stop by the hardware store on my way home.

It was with great apprehension that Levy returned home that day, trying her best to downplay what had transpired and write it up to just be some weird newcomer. Just someone doing research. Maybe he was a writer? Like Lucy? she thought. She could tell him about it, but she just had to figure out a careful way to do it.

It took her several tries to get her key into the door, partially because of a heavy bag she had in her other hand, partially because of the cold. When she opened it to find her house guest splayed out on her sofa, with a book no less, her troubled heart calmed. A smile graced her features now and she quickly closed the door behind her. Having him be the first thing she saw when she walked in was nothing short of pleasant, and the way his face lit up when he saw her gave her that all-familiar flutter.

“Hey,” he called to her, sitting up and quickly tossing the book to his side. She laughed gently at the action.

“You are allowed to look at those, y’know,” Levy encouraged, hanging up her jacket. She noticed that the book he’d chosen was one of her anthologies. “Good choice, that one has some of my favorites.”

Gajeel hummed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking from her to the book.

“What did you like best?” she asked, heading over to him to pick up the book and put it back on the shelf, since she was sure he was done with it. She felt the best thing she could do was just, speak normally to him, and try to not stew in the awkwardness of the morning.

He cocked his head to the side, then crinkled his nose a little. “I hardly understood half of it. Oughta just say what they mean plainly.”

Levy laughed a little at the irony of that, but took it regardless. It seemed appropriate from him. “I stopped on the way home to pick something up for you.” She smiled, holding up the thick plastic bag. Gajeel lifted a brow and stood as she approached him. “It’s a bunch of random stuff and I’m sure they think I’m a weird artist because I asked them for anything iron that they had.” As she handed it to him, he peeked inside to see an assortment of cast-iron handles, brackets, and a couple other random pieces of hardware. His face lit up at the selection. “Didn’t think you’d care what they were as long as they were iron.” Levy beamed up at him, pleased with his reaction.

“Thanks shorty.” He flashed a genuine, toothy grin, pulling out a bracket and biting off a piece like it was candy. “Ohh, these’re good,” he mumbled, mouth full. It was still fascinating for Levy to watch, and she was transfixed staring at his mouth. Until she realized he had stopped chewing and was looking right at her.

He face flared up and she looked away quickly, heading to the kitchen for her dinner. “Sorry. That’s still so--”

“Weird?” Gajeel cut in. He smirked, trying to offset her discomfort. “Took me a while to get used to it too. Now I crave it.”

He idly followed her into the kitchen, and took a seat at the table while munching on his sustenance of choice while she pulled some leftovers out of her fridge. He watched her quietly for a moment. “Where d’you work?” he asked, trying to break the silence. Levy laughed a little, knowing he would make fun of her.

“A bookstore downtown. Started when I was sixteen and I’ve been there a little more than five years now.” She bit her lip, waiting for his reaction because really, how typical. Her house was already a library on its own. She set her plate on the table next to him and took a seat.

Sure enough, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and he laughed heartily, “Gi-hi! What a surprise! I feel like I’ve got you all figured out, shrimp,” he grinned, and Levy tilted her head a little, resting her cheek on her palm as she looked over to him, happy to see him with a genuine smile on his face. And laughing no less.

“Well that’s not fair,” she whined, “I hardly know a thing about you. Like who you were before all this.” Levy said tentatively, “Or how even you got into the kind of thing you did.” It was the only way she could think to try and ask about what he had said that morning.

With a handle hanging from his mouth, he looked over to her to study her for a moment. He had already been an ass that morning, and she had done so much for him already. She deserved whatever else he had to offer her. “Like I said, it’s mostly pieces,” he admitted. Levy was surprised, but pleased that he chose to answer her. “What I do remember, is that I was a punk,” Gajeel smirked to himself.

Well, it wasn’t an answer that surprised her. She hated judging by a cover, but his appearance didn’t contradict with the story. Hard, studded features, an air of rough masculinity… It was all something someone could easily assume first looking at him. “So did you used to live here? In Magnolia?”

Gajeel nodded, munching on another handle. “Years ago.“

“Did you really have no one to come looking for you? I mean… 6 years is a long time to be gone,” she asked.

Gajeel shook his head, “Don't think so. Not that I remember or saw. That's probably why I was picked.” He shrugged, like it was a conclusion he had come to a long time ago. “The rest I know is what I found in my profile, which must have had information I gave them and what they found on me themselves,” he finished the handle, looking outside now, like he was trying to glean the details from the swirl of his thoughts. “Dropped out of school and got into nothin’ but trouble, made my way getting in fights and stealing judging by my record. Lived out of my car I think, no home address. I do remember the posting for the study and taking it because of the money. It was supposed to be 6 weeks,” he gestured to himself bitterly, “Obviously that was bullshit.” The small pursing of her lips let him know he was dropping the mood again. “What I get for being a dropout.” He could see her smile a little then, an action that brought an unreasonable amount of satisfaction. “Have you always lived here?”

Levy nodded, taking a bite of her dinner. “Born and raised, and I got the house a few years ago as an inheritance. All my friends live nearby, so I like it here,” she smiled, “You already almost met Lucy.”

“A fond memory,” he replied with a grimace that meant the opposite. Still, she laughed at him.

“She’s not so bad. She’s kinda like a bunny.”

He looked to her, sensing now that she was just talking to fill the space. It brought him a small comfort that she was just as unnerved as he was after the morning. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it all day, eventually resorting to her books to try and get his mind off it. Which didn’t work. Her words played on repeat in his thoughts, and it was a continuous internal battle trying to decide if she really meant what he thought she did. All efforts ended, repeatedly, in him cursing her subtlety. Just be up front. He had reprimanded to the air more than once. About as much as he reprimanded the poetry he tried to distract himself with.

But, he was one to talk, chickening out like he did that morning. He had plenty of opportunity to say something, but he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say. The word love was not one that had really existed in his vocabulary, before or after the experiments, and it wasn’t something he knew a thing about. But he did know that it was damn terrifying when it had fallen on her lips.

With his eyes on her, however, he felt like he was making his own definition of it as he went, whether he liked it or not. Levy had those big honey eyes on him, expecting him to say something else, watching him. Looking at him the way no one on this earth ever had, the way he never felt anyone should. Because god she was this incredible, compassionate, bright, beautiful creature that had bewitched him, entirely. He couldn’t deny that any more. And he… he was a dragon she found in a cave, covered in scales of iron, now sitting at her dining table munching pieces of metal. He was all of those things and she didn’t look at him like that at all.

The silence left Levy to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. Both of them had been looking at each other, quietly, longer than they realized, and she was the first to decide the table was suddenly very interesting. She might have been oblivious at times, but she was not oblivious to how the mood had changed and how he was looking at her. But, she couldn’t focus fully on what was happening until she got her day’s encounter off her chest. I need to… “Gajeel, I think I need to tell you something.”

Misinterpreting it to be something else, Gajeel jumped a little and shook his head quickly to cut her off as he turned more to face her, scooting his chair forward. She turned to face him in surprise. “No,” he said simply. “I got somethin’ I need to say first.” Go for it, damnit. Be a man for once.

His hand moved before he knew what he was doing, and her eyes went wide as he held her chin between his thumb and hooked forefinger to get her to look at him. What, what is he doing!! This is not what she had planned for, and it trapped the words she needed to say in her throat.

Clear as day, he could hear her heart race, and he could hear her breath become staggered. His initial intention was just to hold her there, to look at her and speak directly, closely, and uninterrupted. He had found his nerve and he wasn’t going to lose it again.

But his subconscious was not about to let him stop there, and before he knew it he was leaning in. Gajeel…what are you doing? Levy’s thoughts raced, screamed at her, but everything was going cloudy and she melted in his grip. Gajeel inhaled to focus on only her scent, and take in the sweet flowery smell that he had become very acquainted with. To give him the resolve to say what he wanted. To silence every doubt and worry as it had done so many times before. And the first thing he smelled was that, as his eyes fluttered shut and she followed suit.

And then there was something else. Something that nearly stopped his heart cold and made his eyes fly open.

His touch, gentle just a second before, suddenly became assertive as he gripped her upper arms and pulled her mere inches from him. Not the way that Levy had found herself wanting him to. He sniffed again, particularly at her shoulder. “Gaj–?”

It took a second, a split moment, and he recoiled from her so violently that he knocked over his chair and hit the table noisily on his way up. Gajeel staggered backwards until he hit a counter, lifting an accusing finger at the very startled girl. “Th-that,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “He can’t…”

“Gajeel?!” Levy stood, raising her hands in front of her slowly, like trying to calm a frightened animal. Which, at this moment, was what he looked like. “Gajeel what’s happening? What’s wrong?” She tried to keep her voice even, calm. But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t frightened by the violent change.

“You,” Gajeel hissed, his face a mixture of fury and terror. From his neck, grey scales started to appear and travel upwards, and his eyes blazed. “That smell, why the fuck do you…” He tripped over his words, forcing them out. She could see his thoughts running faster than he could form words. “Levy, why!” He shouted now. The use of her name, for the first time, struck her.

“Why what, Gajeel? What did I do?!” she cried.

His immediate, self-preserving instinct was that she had betrayed him. That everything up until this very instant was a lie. That she lied about everything, she used him, lured him in, and was about to destroy him. But then there was a stronger part of him that cried out against that, be it desperate denial or reason. It raged against the prospect, a new beast he had cultivated within himself to fight the darkness that tried to possess him. It screamed into his thoughts, telling him don’t you dare hurt her and don’t you dare lump her in with them. Because there was no earthly possibility that she could have done such a thing. She was the light his life had lacked, his saving grace. But right now she was all of these things with the scent of the devil on her.

“Gajeel, please! Talk to me! What’s going on?” she pleaded again, trying to take a step towards him and reach for him as she had in the past, but he flinched away from her like she might hit him, and it was like a shot through her heart. Her hand hovered uselessly in front of her, her eyes beginning to burn.

“You smell like him,” he spat, a hand reaching up to dig iron claws into his hair. “That fucker, that… he’s the one, Levy! He’s the one that did this to me!” Gajeel’s voice cracked again with utter, raw fear. He hunched forward, eyes blazing. “Why do you smell like Jose?!” The venom all but dripped from his voice.

Immediately the man in the shop today came to mind and she went cold. She finally understood why he made her so uneasy, why he set off so many alarms. Why him seeing the journal had been so initially nerve-wracking. Her stomach dropped, and the tears started to spill over because oh god she had screwed up. She should have told him the second she came in the door. “I saw him… today,” she squeaked, shaking. Gajeel, in that moment, seemed to calm just enough to lean forward towards her, the smell of salt now assaulting his senses. It was her turn to flinch, involuntarily, and the flash of hurt made her regret it immediately. “Someone new came to the store today. That’s what I tried to tell you. And he saw me with the journal yesterday…” Gajeel’s eyes widened and his mouth went dry. “I’m so sorry, Gajeel,” The tears fell freely now, a combination of fear, concern, and feeling as though she had somehow put him back where he used to be. “I was, I was going to the library yesterday and I ran into someone and I dropped it. And he saw it and, I’m sorry please calm down Gajeel,” she rambled, her brown eyes searching his face desperately for anything that had been in them moments before.

“He saw it.” Gajeel fell back against the counter again, shaking uncontrollably. There were several seconds of stunned silence, before, “Damnit!” he roared, slamming a fist on the counter hard enough to dent it, making her jump. “He knows I’m alive. God damnit, he knows where I am.” He grit his fangs together, tangling both hands in his mane. “If he’s come now, he’s not alone,” he muttered, horrified. “He waited, for the right time, and he’s here for me.”

Seven casualties. The sudden thought was like an explosion, shattering everything she thought. Levy’s thoughts started to swirl uncontrollably with the incriminating article she had read the day before, unable to focus on anything else. Seven casualties. She saw him like this in front of her and her heart broke. Because she didn’t want to see him like this, this wasn’t the Gajeel she had come to know; it wasn’t the Gajeel she woke up to this morning. Seven casualties. This Gajeel had murderous rage in his eyes, and now more than ever she needed to know the truth. Did he kill seven people?

“Ga-jeel,” the sob shook her and he lowered his hand from his head. His instincts screamed at him to go to her, and to stay away from her at the same time. “Are you the one that destroyed the lab? To get away from him? Is this how you were when they found all those people?”

The question was out of left field, and he went cold hearing that come from her. Gajeel’s arms fell limp by his sides and his shoulders slumped in defeat, anguish taking over his face. “How do you…” his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I found the article. In the library,” she answered, her hands gripping each other in front of her chest, desperate for something to hold onto as she felt everything slipping away from her.

He tilted his head at her, eyes narrowed. “Do you think…?” he couldn’t even finish it, because for the first time since that first encounter, she looked at him with fear. And who could blame her? He had gone zero to sixty in nothing flat, transformed in front of her, shouted at her, and put a hefty dent in her counter. On top of all that, she now knew the truth about the shut down and thought that he was the one that did it. She knows. And she thinks I…

Levy had opened her mouth, trying to tell him that she didn’t know what to think. But she couldn’t get it out. Every word turned to ash in her mouth, and the sobs replaced them. Her thoughts screamed at him to stay, to just talk to her, but instead she gasped for air uselessly.

“I can’t stay here,” he finally said, eyes darting anxiously around him. “He knows,” Gajeel mumbled. “He knows I’m here. That I’m alive.” His body coiled again. She’s better off. A cruel, mirthless laugh fell from him and he swayed in place as though losing his balance, feeling his body start to go numb. He turned towards the doors.

“N-No, Gajeel, wait,” Levy pleaded, hastily wiping the tears from her face.

In an instant, Gajeel whirled back on her, standing straight enough to assert his height. “I am that monster in the dark. You’re naive for thinking otherwise, I’m fuckin’ glad you know the truth.” Blazing red eyes looked down at her and she coughed out a guttural cry at the sight of him, utterly broken in front of her. “I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to that hell, I won’t. Forget you knew me.” It was the calmest thing to come out of his mouth through the whole exchange yet, and the resolve in it killed her. Absolutely killed her.

Levy lurched forward moments too late to stop him, as he flung open the double doors in the kitchen and raced out into the snow, disappearing into the darkness entirely. “Gajeel!” Levy all but screamed into the void. In her desperation, a different thought dawned on her, that she wished like hell she had said sooner. “Jose knows my name,” she choked out, just as she heard keys scrape at her front door.

The door swung open, and she turned slowly to see a shocked, and ultimately concerned blonde in her doorway. Levy could see her lips moving, saying her name, and wondered how she looked in front of her friend. Sobbing in front of open doors as the snow wafted in, with the kitchen looking like an absolute mess. Lucy called out to her, but Levy couldn’t hear her over the roaring in her ears. It only took a second for Lucy to rush over to her and take her by the shoulders, trying to speak to her friend. Levy could only choke out one more thing before she lost her composure and dropped to her knees.

“I have to tell you something.”

#gajevy #ftfanfics #fanfiction #fairy tail #iron legends #alternate universe #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden

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flyonmylovee · 7 years

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[ Here are some of my coherent thoughts on Shoushitsu + Tri overall, hopefully more organized than the string of upper-case letters I splattered across everyone’s dashboards a few days ago. This is INCREDIBLY long and all based on my personal speculation and the limited knowledge of mythology + themes outside of the adventure-verse, so I hope that dividing it into sections is helpful if anyone actually wants to read this and everything should be taken with a grain of salt. ]

So before I go any farther, I feel like I should say that I loved Shoushitsu. I’m becoming quite the apologist for it but I mean, I’ve been waiting my entire life for Sora to not be written out of a movie. While her character development leaves much to be desired, I have a ton of faith in the next two movies. I’d like to wait for those to come out before I make any definite judgments about whether Tri did Sora justice or not. I remember reading interviews with the Tri crew before Saikai came out, and the way they spoke about the characters really made me believe that they understand how important they are to us. I have faith that this is still well-planned. Little parts of Shoushitsu actually reaffirmed that for me. Now, if the next two movies don’t pull through I will totally eat my words, but as of now, I’m genuinely pretty happy.

On Sora’s Arc: I don’t think it’s complete. To be honest, I don’t think any of the kid’s arcs are complete, so I’m 100% setting myself up for disappointment with the last movie, but once again I’m keeping the faith that something’s planned. Anyways, I think we all saw Sora’s problem coming from a mile away. She’s an introvert who tries to get her energy from others. If she can’t be motherly she feels like she has no purpose. Everyone grows up except for digimon. What would she do if Piyomon wasn’t around? Apparently, totally crash and burn and turn invisible to her friends.

I noticed a lot of references to Meiko throughout Sora’s ordeal. Meiko’s a newcomer and arguably the source of all their problems. Sora spent a considerable amount of time worrying about her and trying to include her in the group. The moment Pyocomon rejects Sora, you can literally see the darkness in her eyes and the entire first episode I was yelling at my screen about how nobody noticed her obvious depression. I really like the way sad Sora was animated. It was resonating. Someone should have felt it, and I think Sora knew that too. Instead, we see everyone consistently worrying about Meiko. Taichi declares that she’s part of the group and that they have a responsibility to reunite her with Meicoomon. So where does that leave Sora, who’s also very separated from her partner? I think this speaks a lot to the scene around the campfire later that night. They’re discussing how Meiko’s just a normal girl and pondering whether she’d make it in the digital world. Someone says that she probably wouldn’t. Sora has a strikingly out of character moment when she agrees with them. “Probably.”

I think that was Sora’s true low point. She threw someone under the bus for morally questionable reasons. It seems like Sora felt excluded not just by Piyomon, but replaced by her entire group of friends that she’d spent years emotionally investing in. “I just wanted to be recognized” is such a meaningful line. She’s not one to try and profit off someone else’s misfortune, so if Sora felt any true darkness, I’d say this was the moment.

To make matters worse, another scene that stuck with me is when the kids first realize that Meicoomon’s memory is still intact. Sora’s the first one to really question it and ponder about whether the reboot was really worth it. When Koushiro confirms that it likely wasn’t, I think Sora sort of cracked. The comparisons to Meiko are still relevant here.

In the end, Sora ultimately solves her own problem and is able to reconnect with Piyomon. She’s persistent and Piyomon realizes that she’s “a big softie”. I question how much of this is due to Sora evolving as a character and Piyomon just deciding to not be such an asshole, but still. No one held her hand through any of it. Even if she wanted someone to, she didn’t let anyone. I can easily make the case here that nothing about Sora really changed- she just hit rock bottom and was able to bounce back. My instinct is that if Piyomon were to change her mind and reject Sora again, she’d fall right back into the same depression. There’s still the potential for Sora to see that darkness and like so many of the chosen’s problems, they remanifest in different ways. Sora will continue to struggle with feelings of self-worth, which is disappointing, but when it’s so deeply embedded it’s also unrealistic to see it solved in a single movie.

I think what matters most about the conclusion is the affirmation of one of Sora’s core beliefs. They and their digimon partners are exceptional. They’ll always be connected, no matter what happens. This is the thought Sora uses to cheer Meiko up and Meiko repeats it right back to her. I think the Tri crew was trying to emphasize it’s importance. More than anything, I think what matters here is that Sora’s darkness caused her to question that belief. Who is she if the value she always relied on isn’t true? What’s the use of her words if they’re just cliches? If they and their partners aren’t exceptional, how can she not consistently be anxious about the future?

I did appreciate the end of Sora’s arc. You see the “taiorato” triangle reversed. (And, in fact, you see the taiorato crew in different triangle formations at many points during Shoushitsu. For me it highlighted changing dynamics.) In the first movie, Taichi and Yamato stood in front of her and we see Sora in the background worrying between them. At the end of Shoutshitsu, it’s Sora front and center with Pyocomon held close. Taichi and Yamato are standing behind her, probably wondering how it’s possible to suppress so many negative emotions, but Sora could care less. It highlights the importance of her friendship with Piyomon over everyone else. Everything fell back into place (thankfully) and she can move forward. As long as Piyomon understands her, they can regrow.

And this is good. A scene I particularly enjoyed in Adventure is the one where they finally encounter Sora after she’s realized she has the crest of love. The only reason Sora got any emotional closure from that is because she opened up. Why did she open up? Piyomon told her she should. Piyomon helped her explain her feelings. Piyomon asked everyone to understand. I think Piyomon acts as Sora’s translator. No one really understands her and I question whether Sora actually wants them to. When it comes down to it I think she just wants to love and be loved in return. The only thing is that Sora still hasn’t learned to truly love herself. She’ll have to one day, but I’m not sure if we’ll see it.

I’d like to take a moment to discuss whether Sora was “shafted” or not. On the surface it definitely does. However, when you look closely, it seems like the writers really took the time to look at her major arcs in Adventure. There are many parallels that are meaningful if you know where to look, which echoes the way that Sora’s friends really need to treat her. Just like Takeru continued to evolve in this film (which he did, it wasn’t just Patamon ‘stealing the spotlight’), I think Sora has the potential to continue growing in the next two installments. Should she? Yes. Will she? ...Probably not. Am I still hopeful? Yeah, absolutely.

On Taichi & Yamato: Their interactions in this film took years off my life. There’s a scene involving Machinedramon where Tentomon’s buzzing around mumbling “Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!” and there isn’t a more accurate comparison to me watching Shoushitsu for the first time. I loved every minute of it.

Let’s start with Taichi. We know that he doesn’t understand Sora. I’m always brought back to Sora’s CD drama when she first tells Taichi she’s quitting football to play tennis. Taichi’s totally dumbfounded. He thinks that Sora’s losing herself and he questions her decision. Sora becomes flustered, and if I’m remembering correctly, doesn’t even offer Taichi an explanation. She just gives up. It’s like she already knows it would be no use to try and tell him that her starting tennis is a result of her allowing herself to truthfully grow. I think that Taichi was spot on throughout this entire movie in terms of his interactions with Sora. No complaints from me. The entire movie could have been Taichi following Sora around in the woods like a lost puppy and I would’ve been happy. There are a few key moments that stuck out to me, though.

First, there’s Taichi saying “I could never understand you, Sora” before echoing something Piyomon said to Sora before. She takes care of her own problems and never tells anyone else. (Does she really take care of her own problems though??) Anyways, in Adventure, Taichi tries to cheer Sora up by telling her that she cares for everyone else. He thinks that’s good. Sora instantly shoots back at him and says he doesn’t know her and he should stop speaking like he does. To me, Taichi’s reaction here made it seem like he never forgot that conversation. He doesn’t understand her. If he made that implication in the future he’d probably get chewed out again. In Taichi’s very literal head, his comment probably sounded completely rational and that sort of makes me laugh. Interactions like this with Sora just seem to never go in his favor and it’s like he’s started to just accept it.

Still, it’s easy for the viewers to see how much he cares for her. Taichi struggles to maintain a necessary level of consideration in order to make Sora feel better. He laughs with Agumon in the river as Sora walks away, he calls her a big pain, he tells her to chill out, and basically repetitively word vomits into her hat and wonders why she won’t put it on... all things that remind me of their friendship in adventure. It highlights the youthfulness of their friendship. His teasing her is incredibly thoughtless and poorly timed, but we’ve seen this a million times before and we don’t question whether he cares for her.

One of my favorite scenes in all of Shoushitsu is Meiko and Sora’s encounter with not-Gennai (as I’m gonna start referring to him because he’s creepy af, but more on that later). Sora, who clearly hasn’t planned beyond the next couple of seconds, starts throwing rocks around and finds herself in a physical tussle with the enemy. This is the second or third scene of many in which Sora should have probably died, but the other cool thing about Shoushitsu is that we learned Sora’s bones are made of metal. Anyways, as Sora’s digging herself into this hole, about to hit six feet under, portals open up to all the other chosen children. We don’t really see anyone’s reaction, but we know they can see everything. The one person that we do zone in on is Taichi. He’s staring up at the scene, wide-eyed with worry, and he mutters Sora’s name in disbelief. I really enjoyed two small details about this scene: the timing and the portal’s location. Just before Sora’s fight, we see Taichi talking to Gabumon about whether being chosen matters anymore. He had faith that he could have Agumon digivolve if he needed to, but that obviously didn’t happen. I started to wonder if Taichi was reminded of SkullGreymon, etc. I think a big misconception about Taichi is that he’s always ready to charge. In Tri he’s clearly not, but he wasn’t always that way in Adventure either. It’s actually pretty common for Taichi to freeze and to question himself, and that scene sets him up to be in that mindset. And just, HIS EYES. When he sees Sora it’s like he freezes again. He’s already feeling useless, he couldn’t help Sora before, she’s about to get totally obliterated by Machinedramon’s cannon, and the portal that appears in his area is up the side of a cliff that looks like it’s at least 100 feet tall.

That animation probably didn’t mean anything, but it was neat to think about how quickly Taichi probably had to scramble up there to rescue his friend. I imagine him instantly side-lining his doubts and stereo-typically jumping into action, which he hasn’t been able to do all season. If that happened then Sora was the cause. I like to imagine that Taichi was thinking he couldn’t let her down again. His face made it seem like his life was flashing before his eyes, and perhaps he was remembering all the times he’d froze to Sora’s detriment. Nanomon’s the best example. Sora almost died and whether it was actually Taichi’s fault or not (ok it 80% is), he knows what it’s like to live with the guilt of losing her. Now, I also believe scenes like Nanomon’s treated Sora as kinda disposable for Taichi’s character development (another post for another day), and Shoutshitsu towed a fine line with this, so I’m glad that they didn’t show him scrambling up the cliff. Still, it’s an interesting thought. I only rewound the scene a handful of times.

Now moving on to Yamato, I have some... complaints. But don’t we all with him? Anyways, in the broader scheme of things I also appreciated his interactions with Sora. It’s obvious that he cares and that he’s more attune with her feelings. He has a better sense of what’s inappropriate and what isn’t. Still, he’s struggling, and I don’t know whether I totally buy it. When Yamato went right along with Taichi in calling Sora a big pain (just before I yelled that Sora could kill the two of them in the digital world and no one would ever know) I asked myself a pretty good question. What the fuck is Yamato’s deal? I actually don’t think we really know. We’ve gotten a good picture of the way he’s grown, but most of his issues have revolved around Taichi. I hope we circle back around to him later and see him work through some crisis that explains this. I think he should understand Sora better than this, whether they’re together or not. My only logical explanation for the way he acts is that Taichi’s around. I wonder if Yamato would have acted differently had he approached Sora alone.

I’ve also heard a lot of mixed reactions to the lack of Sorato in Shoushitsu. I’m kind of glad that their (non) relationship wasn’t emphasized. It would have detracted from Sora solving her own problems. I’m starting to think that Sora and Yamato really aren’t together, otherwise I don’t know if Taichi would’ve tagged along for the conversation. He’s always been pretty thoughtful about giving them their space, it seems. Remember the first time we see the three of them in Saikai? Anyways, as someone who ships Sorato, Taiora, and Taiorato, my hopes of seeing some new information are dwindling. However, I really do think that we’ll get a small scene in the last movie. If the Tri crew is serious about connecting things to the epilogue I think they’d tack something in about them making up, or something reinforcing the fact that they’re together. Maybe they’re saving it till last to capitalize on those $$profits$$ but I think there’ll be something.

On Gennai: There’s been a lot of contention about the scene. I’ll be the first to admit that it made me hella uncomfortable. It’s long and drawn out and I was uncomfortable enough watching him search for her digivice, and then that other thing did me in. I acknowledge that Tri’s goal with this was to make people uncomfortable. The kids are grown up. Things are dark. This show isn’t for kids. Mission accomplished. I particularly like the way not-Gennai speaks. Excellent job by the voice actor TBH. Everything about him is creepy. I also couldn’t shake the thought that as Sora was fighting with him, her friends saw the whole thing. Digimon’s never been a show for processing but I do maybe wish they’d done a little more here. Taichi & Yamato should have been angrier and I feel like this was the second time when something majorly traumatic happened to Sora and we just assume she doesn’t need to process it. Not that there’s... really time. I don’t really know what I’m asking for here but I don’t think many of us expected that sorta scene, so.

On the flip side, a lot of folks have really valid criticisms of this scene. There was no warning for it and I’m so sorry that so many people had to sit thought it unexpectedly. I think those that watched it first could have put out some sort of warning while still being spoiler free, and I’m gonna personally keep that in mind for the future movies because not-Gennai continues to be creepy af. I don’t really have anything valuable to add to the Gennai discussion beyond this, so this is where I’ll leave it. I just hope we all know that it is 100% ok and normal to wish this scene wasn’t in the movie and it has nothing to do with not accepting that Tri is for adults.

On the plot overall: I feel like I’m being pulled in twenty different directions and I don’t know how Tri could possible wrap this all up with a nice, nostalgic bow. I wonder if they’re planning on some sort of Tri 02 which... wow. That would be incredible, wouldn’t it? But my hopes are not high, they actually don’t exist at all, so... moving on. Er, I made a post about it, but wtf are those planetary objects that are floating around? Why did they show up after the battle between Alphamon and Omegamon? Is it representative of the infection? Of that strange, inter-dimensional world? Was it just an addition to the animation? If not, why are they still present during the evolution scenes in the fourth movie? They’re all over the place. I personally think the digimon are still infected and that the true reboot hasn’t really happened yet. I think a true reboot will come when Meicrackmon causes enough damage to get Yggdrasil’s attention and reset the entire world. I think that reset already happened in the very beginning scene. It reminded me of “the end of the world” event from Norse mythology. I think it will happen again and I think we’re in the specific “pre-apocalyptic” period that’s mentioned. Maki obviously believes the reboot already happened but I think she got played. I don’t think the digimon needed to lose their memories, I don’t think the kids needed to go to the digital world... I just think that different actors were trying to make Meicrackmon well... crack. It happened, but it could have happened in a number of different ways.

I’m noticing an “X” theme and I can’t help but think about the x-antibody. There’s always this focus on Meicoomon’s eyes. I don’t know much about the x-antibody or Yggdrasil’s reset in previous seasons/games, but I would love to talk to someone who does? The first time Meicoomon changes modes (not evolving), we see that DNA-X appear on Meiko’s digivice. I wonder if it’s symbolic of the X factor altering her partner? To me, this helps me rationalize why Alphamon’s involved. Additionally, to me, the orb that appeared on Maki’s digivice sort of looks like Yggdrasil’s orb form...?

Random note, here, but there’s also a lot of talk of falling into darkness, or hands plunging into darkness. I thought it was interested that Meiko (who also didn’t deny that Meicoomon was “bad”) says “I thought you were finally out of my hands, but...”

I also like Meicoomon’s nickname of “The Libra”. So Meicoomon’s meant to act as some scale, and not-Gennai wants her to tip into chaos due to Yggdrasil’s will? Why was Meicoomon “never meant to be born”? Why can Meicrackmon evolve into Ophanimon and Mastemon (literally a balance of darkness and light, normally angewomon and ladydevimon jogressed) in one of the games? Is Meicoomon meant to be a scale on her own or is there someone else keeping the balance? Why did a Tri writer say that Meiko felt the need to alter her behavior after she noticed Meicoomon acting strangely? Why did they say Meicrackmon’s “physical appearance” is important? Why is her digiegg being similar to Tailmon’s important (especially when Hikari’s trait is light)??? Plotmon is known (sometimes?) as a digimon that was created by human researchers. I totally believe that Meicoomon was created. Perhaps by Meiko’s dad? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS. WHERE ARE THE 2′s IN THE DIGITAL CODE. WHY WAS IT PURPOSEFUL FOR ONLY PALMON AND GOMAMON AND LEOMON TO BREAK THROUGH INTO THE WEIRD INTER-DIMENSION? WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE NAME ‘TRI’ BESIDES INDICATING THE THIRD SEASON? Yggdrasil has three roots that carry it’s worlds, right? Three “norns” that cater to it? For some reason this makes me think of everyone else jogress digivolving. I don’t know why don’t look at me this is unfounded and I shouldn’t be posting it. In like, every Tri interview though there’s at least one person telling us to watch the evolution sequences carefully, so I feel like that holds the key to something.

Anyways, I’m so deep into Norse mythology and I need to stop so those are some of my under-developed thoughts. I don’t know much outside of Adventure seasons, so.

Random Points: 1. I still can’t get over the art. There’s so much thought put into some of these scenes. I also LOVE the tri version of keep on. oh my god. 2. I like the parallel of insults Piyomon was throwing at Sora. “You’re weak” “You’re only human” and then the insults of Meiko that Sora jumped in on “she’s just a normal girl” and then how not-Gennai taunted Sora “without this you’re just a normal kid.” There’s so much under the surface here which is Sora in a nutshell. 3. We were brought through that strange inter-dimension before we see the kids in the digital world. It’s when the Tri logo is on the screen and the background is dark. You see those strange planetary objects floating around. Are we even in the digital world we know? I’m reminded of the way Taichi says “I encountered you” in the first PV. 4. Still convinced that if the reboot happened Plotmon shouldn’t have Hikari’s whistle. Isn’t Hikari holding the whistle string in her poster? We also heard the whistle at the end of the first PV. I hope they use it to call Ophanimon FM back to reality or something. 5. Hikari is the only one who seemingly is okay with the reboot. Plotmon has none of her bad memories. Still though, something is off. If the kids figure out how to reverse everything I think Hikari will try to stop them. 6. I liked that when Taichi + Yamato were failing miserably at cheering Sora up, Yamato would also twist his head to glare at Taichi when they made it worse. It’s like he always assumes Taichi’s a fool ahaha. 7. I’m also laughing because what if, ok what if... going back and looking at my linked post above, there’s an interview with the Tri crew and they talk about how Omegamon splits apart too early due to Taichi’s emotions. Yamato calls him out on this. The interview asks us how that will affect things now. I remember reading somewhere that a digimon’s digicore can be altered if jogress evolution is interrupted, or something like that. I cackle every time I think about all of this somehow being Taichi + Yamato’s fault. It obviously isn’t but just... what if they made it worse ahah. Get wrecked, Yamato. Anyways, digicores coming into play here would have many implications. Everyone’s last little bit of data would remain, right? I don’t know anything about digicores so I’ll leave it at that.

Ok, I think that’s mostly everything! Wow this is a novel and a half, so if anyone’s still reading this... than..k.s? I want to add screenshots so I’m at work so maybe later. I may add more thoughts too. All subject to change, but I wanna keep it all here so I’m not spamming everyone with smaller, more frequent posts.

#♡ I'm sorry Sora's not home but I'll tell her to call as soon as she gets back [OOC]#tri spoiler #tri spoilers #tri;#shoushitsu;

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healthnotion · 5 years

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Books So Good I’ve Read Them 2X (Or More!)

Given the fact that there are over 130 million books in existence, it’s easy to despair of ever having the chance to read even the smallest fraction of them. And given how little headway you’ll ultimately make on that number, even if you’re a regular reader and live to a ripe old age, it can be hard to justify reading the same book, not just once, but twice (and even multiple times!).

But I think there are several good reasons to do so.

The first is that each time you read the same book, you come away with new insights. You get different things out of a book when you read it at 36 than you did at 16 (and you’ll find different things at age 76, too).

Second, even when you’ve learned and affirmed the principles of a personal development or philosophical-type book, you have to revisit them regularly to keep them at the forefront of your mind. Humans are slothful, forgetful creatures; even when a book’s insights initially made your spirit soar and unlocked a new dimension in your thinking, without regular reminders, you’ll be taking them for granted in a very short time!

Third, sometimes re-reading the same book can become a special tradition (e.g., you look forward to re-reading A Christmas Carol every December), and even a cathartic ritual (see my note about The Road below). When you read the same thing on a cyclical basis, you find that rather than suffering “the horror of the Same Old Thing,” the practice can actually help you overcome it.

Finally, favorite fiction books become like old friends. When you open one up, you feel like you’re reconnecting with a beloved cast of characters who you’ve missed and are glad to be reacquainted with all over again.

Plus, few of the millions of books you could be reading for the first time are any good — and it can be more beneficial to re-read quality than to read mediocre slop anew! (I read 125+ new books a year in addition to my perennial favorites, so it’s not an either/or equation; as I know someone will ask, I have to read so many books for my work on the Art of Manliness, but you can read, or re-read more books too, using the tips I’ve outlined here.)

Below you’ll find a list of some of the books I’ve re-read at least twice, and often many times more. While I read books for both work and pleasure, and many of the books below I’ve read for both, I only re-read the books that have provided fodder for articles, that have also given me personal enjoyment.

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey

I first read The Seven Habits of Highly of Effective People back in high school and was blown away by Covey’s ability to create fresh, compelling angles on common sense principles — put first things first; begin with the end in mind — and show how they can be implemented to create a flourishing life. Since then, I’ve re-read The Seven Habits every few years to remind myself of these important fundamentals that I already know, but that are so easy to lose sight of.

For my distillation and take on the 7 habits, read this series that covers each one.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The first time I read F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great American Novel, I was a sophomore in high school. But it didn’t really resonate with me then. That changed when I took a class in college called “American History Through the American Novel” with Professor Danney Goble. He made that book come alive for me by subtly illuminating its rich metaphors and highlighting Fitzgerald’s superb style. Since then, while I haven’t read The Great Gatsby as many times as literary critic Maureen Corrigan (who’s read it 67 times; you can listen to my podcast interview with her about that here), I have re-read it so many times I’ve lost count of the number. And every time I re-read it, I uncover a new symbol or metaphor that I never noticed before, and welcome the chance the re-contemplate the theme of wanting vs. liking. This book never gets old.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

The Road has been called by some a love story between father and son, and nothing could better describe it. The book powerfully puts the beauty and sorrow of fatherhood in stark perspective, revealing paternal love intensely close to the bone.

The first time I started it, I read it all in a single flight coming home from a vacation. While I didn’t have kids at the time, and was surrounded by strangers, I was blubbering like a baby by the time the wheels hit the tarmac in Tulsa.

When Gus was born, I decided to re-read The Road again since I figured it would have more meaning now that I was a dad. Indeed, it made me cry even harder the second time. Since then, I’ve made it a personal tradition to read The Road once a year. It’s a cathartic ritual: I read it, cry as my heart gets squeezed in a vise of emotion, and then hug and kiss my kids while they wonder what’s wrong with Dad.

The Road makes me re-evaluate how I’m doing as a father. It forces me to ask if I’m preparing my kids so they can survive without me — not only physically, but spiritually.

It forces me to ask myself “Am I teaching my children to carry the fire?”

As the answer is always, “I could do a little better,” it’s a question worth reflecting on annually.

After Virtue by Alasdair MacIntyre

In After Virtue, Scottish philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre argues that we’ve lost the idea of having a telos — an ultimate aim — as well as the language needed to talk about the virtues required to achieve it. One of the results is that our discourse on morality has become increasingly shrill.

After Virtue is a really hard book to read and fully understand, but it’s the enjoyable kind of hard. When you put in the effort to grasp what MacIntyre is arguing, you’re rewarded with fresh insights about our current age. And because he’s writing about such a broad and deep topic, every time I read After Virtue, I walk away with some new idea to contemplate.

The Odyssey by Homer

I’ve read Homer’s The Iliad multiple times, but I did so for school and work. It’s mighty good, but it doesn’t grasp me by the heartstrings. It’s a different, ahem, story with The Odyssey, which I’ve read dozens of times for pure pleasure. There are a couple of reasons I turn to one of these ancient tales much more than the other.

First, The Odyssey is just a grade A adventure story. Just a plain fun book to read.

Second, and more importantly, the character of Odysseus is a lot more relatable than Achilles. Achilles is a demigod; Odysseus is fully mortal. Achilles doesn’t seem to miss his family, of whom we learn little about; Odysseus just wants to get back to his family — in fact, he gives up spending eternity with an ageless sex nymph so he can return to his mortal wife Penelope. Achilles only wants glory; Odysseus wants that too, but he wants to survive and make it back home more.

A mortal dude who’s just trying to survive in a crazy, topsy-turvy world so he can spend time with his family? I can relate to that.

The book has taken on different meanings for me when I read it after getting married, after having kids, and now that I’m approaching middle age.

Antifragile by Nassim Nicholas Taleb

Nassim Nicholas Taleb is a former trader and current intellectual provocateur (see his Twitter and Medium accounts) who writes about philosophy and probability. He’s the guy that popularized the idea of “Black Swan” events in history. Wikipedia succinctly describes a Black Swan event as one “that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight.” The Great Depression. The Great Recession. Both World Wars. These are examples of Black Swan events.

In his book Antifragile, Taleb offers heuristics for businesses and individuals on how to not only survive a Black Swan, but thrive in it.

I’ve read all of Taleb’s books and they’re all great, but Antifragile is the one that I go back to over and over again. Taleb’s ideas are often counterintuitive and iconoclastic, but he makes great cases for them. I think the biggest reason I keep re-reading Antifragile, though, is that it’s just so damn fun to read. Taleb’s pugnacious and doesn’t suffer fools. The literary punches he throws at those he deems “imbeciles” not only crack me up, but the way he presents his ideas as a debate between a street smart spokesman (Fat Tony) and his traditionally smart, yet clueless rival (Dr. John), helps make the ideas more understandable. I also enjoy the occasional digressions he takes throughout the book. They’re fun, and always illuminating.

Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle

Thanks to famous entrepreneurs and digital influencers, Stoicism has become the ancient philosophy of choice for many young people today. But there’s an ancient philosophy that I think is even more useful and life affirming than Stoicism: Aristotelian virtue ethics. I think part of the reason Stoicism is seen as the “cool” philosophy and Aristotelian virtue gets overlooked is that Aristotle’s writing doesn’t really have any pithy, quotable maxims like the writing of the Stoics does. But it’s richly rewarding for those who dig into it.

Aristotle’s answer to the question how to live a good life is “it depends.” In his Nicomachean Ethics, he lays out how to live a life of eudaimonia, or flourishing. It requires a person to use their practical wisdom to figure out what the right thing to do is in whatever situation they find themselves in. There are no iron-clad rules, which makes deciding how to act more challenging, but I think more wise.

Should you get angry at a business rival who copied your idea? The Stoics would say “Don’t get angry because that disrupts tranquility and could lead to poor decisions.” Aristotle would say “Well, maybe you should get angry because it’s just to do so, it will spur you to take action, and if the rival is directly confronted, he’ll back down. Or maybe in this particular instance, direct confrontation will end up damaging you and it’s better to hide your emotions and quietly best the rival from behind the scenes. Use your judgement.”

I love Aristotle because he understood that life is complex and there is no one right answer for the situations we find ourselves in. His Nicomachean Ethics provides a flexible framework for navigating these complexities, which is why I’ve re-read it multiple times.

Roman Honor by Carlin Barton

Roman Honor is a book quite unlike any other I’ve read. It’s one part history, one part philosophy, and one part insight into the modern age. Altogether it adds up to quite possibly the most interesting and incisive book I’ve come across. Even the footnotes are utterly fascinating.

Barton traces the way Rome’s honor culture dissolved as it moved from a Republic to an Empire, and how its original definition of dishonor transformed into the new definition of honor along the way. That is, whereas Rome’s traditional honor culture elevated being fiery, passionate, thin-skinned, and competitive, and disdained being independent, immovable, and callous — someone who didn’t care what anyone else thought and was literally shameless — honor in the Empire became the exact reverse, where only personal integrity mattered, having a rock-like disposition was celebrated, and the philosophy of Stoicism rose in popularity. It’s a fascinating lens by which to see how the same factors that led to the dissolution of traditional honor and the rise of Stoicism in Rome, have led to parallel trends in our own time.

The book has greatly influenced my perspective on the world, and I’ve re-read it multiple times both for pleasure and for work; I’ve gotten more than half a dozen article ideas from it, and as we’ve only covered a couple so far, look out for more in the years to come!

The Way of Men by Jack Donovan

I’ve read a lot of books about the anthropology, psychology, and biology of manhood written by top rate experts in their field. The Way of Men by Jack Donovan distills all of that into a highly potent and highly readable ode to sweaty, muscular masculinity. Do I entirely agree with the philosophy of manhood laid out in the book? Nope, which is why I like re-reading it so much. The Way of Men challenges your assumptions and makes you think hard about what it means to be a man.

While media pundits, and academics, and pop culture influencers debate and endlessly dither on about what it really means to be a man, and a hundred disparate definitions of manhood get thrown around, this book cuts through the noise to locate the central core of masculinity.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Just because I’m not all-in on Stoicism and have some critiques of the philosophy, certainly doesn’t mean that I find nothing redeemable or useful about it. While I don’t think the philosophy is one you should center your whole life around (I think Aristotelianism is better suited to that purpose), I do think it is extremely useful, and even indispensable, when strategically employed as a tool in certain situations. I see Stoicism as proto-cognitive behavioral therapy — a way to challenge incorrect, detrimental thinking about the world, and to find peace in circumstances you truly can’t control.

My favorite book of Stoic philosophy is Meditations by the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius. It’s short so it lends itself well to re-reading, and it’s packed with pithy maxims you can use as practical heuristics in navigating life. And because the book is basically Aurelius’ private journal, Meditations gives you a firsthand look at a prominent figure in history trying his damndest to be stoic and grappling with the tensions that come with seeking to mold your life to an ideal.

Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl

I read Man’s Search for Meaning after seeing a reference to it in The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I was 16 or 17 years old. This book blew me away the first time I read it and was my gateway into existential philosophy. I printed off quotes from this book, framed them, and gave them as gifts to friends.

The big takeaway from Man’s Search for Meaning is arguably life’s most important lesson: there is one freedom that no one can ever take away from you, and that’s the freedom to choose how to respond in any given circumstance. If a man can choose to be happy while imprisoned in a concentration camp, as Frankl did and was, then a man can choose to be happy in any situation. This radical autonomy is what makes us human.

I’ll re-read this book whenever I feel helpless and need a reminder that I do in fact have control over my life.

Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry

Lonesome Dove is the greatest cowboy story ever told, and my hands-down favorite book of all time. It’s the American Odyssey. The story follows two long-time friends on a cattle drive from the Rio Grande to Montana. Along the way they encounter outlaws, Indians, and old flames. I love this book so much, I even named my son Gus after one of the protagonists, Gus McCrae.

Despite being over 700 pages long, I’ve read this book four times in the past 10 years or so. It never gets old. Each time I start it again, it feels like I’m catching up with old friends. I still laugh out loud and cry at the same parts.

Are there lessons on life from Lonesome Dove? Sure, but I can’t say I re-read it for them. I read it over and over again because I like it. A whole heck of a lot.

Click here for more of AoM’s book lists and reading recommendations.

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