#from our perspective we talk about blue things as really big...but when we turn to bigger perspectives we turn to talking about blue as
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Thoughts & theories on Double’s thumbnail
So oh my god Double’s thumbnail is out and I’m going crazy. There’s a lot to analyse here so I’ll go over all my thoughts I have so far
So right off the bat one of the most notable things are the mannequins, the ones we see on the tarot cards in MeMe.
But here they’re completely broken. With an orange blood like substance poring out of them. They’re dismantled, and it appears there are two of them in total judging by the limbs and stuff.
One of the first things I’ve seen people thinking when they first see these are it’s representative of his victims. I have a lot of thoughts on this and I personally think that’s not the case. Minus how I believe that Mikoto only killed one person, the blood is only on the broken mannequins themselves and Mikoto has no traces of blood on his clothing or bat at all. This could have a lot of different meanings. Things I’ve thought about is that those mannequins could represent his alters, maybe if the gang theory is correct that those were victims of the gang. But one theory I find particularly interesting is that the reason there’s no blood on Mikoto here is because it’s actually Orekoto we’re seeing here, and not Mikoto. And that Orekoto is innocent and Mikoto was the true killer. There’s already been lots of talk about that theory but I’ll analyse it in this context.
There’s two lights behind him here. The left one turned off and the right on with a bright red light. I believe these represent two alters, Mikoto and Orekoto. As we see in MeMe there’s a clear colour symbolism between these two, with Mikoto associated with blue and Orekoto red. I believe that the red light on here indicates that this is Orekoto we’re seeing here. And going back to the theory beforehand, the fact that there’s no blood on him might represent that he’s innocent.
It’s also mentioned that Mikoto rides a bike to work instead of the train I think, but I might be nitpicking here as I don’t really understand what he means by this quote.
Parallels to with the MeMe thumbnail:
Another thing to note is that it is a very direct parallel of the MeMe thumbnail. Mikoto’s sitting down on a couch (or couch like seat), in basically the same pose from the same perspective.
There’s also a big difference in general atmosphere of both of these screencaps. MeMe is more bright and Mikoto is sitting down with a big smile on his face and with Double, he looks more apathetic and emotionless, as we see alot in MeMe and in a way parallels with this scene.
(Oh and I was just thinking, all of these shots look very similar yet in different situations, RGBkoto anyone?)
And in a way the clothing even is opposites of each other in a way. With MeMe Mikoto with a dark jacket and light shirt, and Double Mikoto with a light jacket and dark shirt (also the pants look the same imo).
The quote in the description:
“I’ve got you, leave it it me.”
I don’t know what the first person pronoun usage of this is in Japanese but I’m certain this is Orekoto speaking. This aligns a lot with the Double preview lyrics “Hey now, I saved you, right? So why in the hell are you crying?” This definitely seems like Orekoto is putting himself in danger to protect the system from whatever (likely gang violence as I mentioned before), and seems to be in quite a comforting tone. As Orekoto feels like it’s his duty to protect Mikoto but he is scared by everything happening “why in the hell are you crying?”.
Other things I want to point out but I don’t know what to make of them:
The shot of the thumbnail we see has a fisheye lens to it and kinda blurs our at the edges which is quite reminiscent of this scene at the start of MeMe. Just except the tv filter.
I don’t exactly know what to make of this aside from being representative of a camera, which would go in hand with the Mikoto is being stalked theory.
There’s also the bat he’s holding on the train. Which looks very similar to the one he used to attack people with. I don’t really know what this could mean and I do find it kinda strange that he had a bat on the train in the first place but I just wanted to mention it.
The place outside of the train that Mikoto is in in Double looks different to the one in MeMe. In MeMe it had alot of grating and had windows showing the city outside and in Double it looks more like it’s indoors.
Also why tf are these ceiling hand rail things whatever you call them outside???
There’s also this reddish pinkish light above him which I have no idea about, I don’t even know if it means anything I just wanted to mention it.
So that’s basically everything I’ve come up with so far when it comes to this.
#milgram#mikoto kayano#milgram theory#Double#yeah I know I’ve been talking about this alot#No one can stop me from my obsessive rambling over this series#MIKOTO INNOCENT#And someone also mentioned that double mikoto looks a lot more sad than threatening
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So remember when I said, "I'm gonna go work on the orekoto side of this now." Here that is right at the last possible moment. Along with two songs I associate with him. Oh, and one for both of them that is simply just projection since it is one of my favorite songs. Again, apologies in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors.
This space was vast and bright- A constant vibrant blue overcast sky that seemed to stretch into eternity. Few walls to conceal oneself behind. Most were so demolished they barely provided any cover at all. Our television lay submerged within water that perfectly mirrored and reflected the vastness of the sky above.
It was one of my favorite things to watch. Sunken and useless. I looked to the side where that mirror was. From the chair I was in I couldn't get a good look at it, which meant it couldn't get a good look at me either.
They say eyes are the windows to the soul. So, for us that mirror was the closest thing we got to seeing each other's perspectives as well as reflecting on our own.
"Huh...this entire thing is a mess."
I got knocked out in one hit after talking all big to that annoying brat. Who do they think they are treating me like that. I told them if they keep pushing, I'll have to intervene. I don't have another choice.
These people think they can use their morals, their opinions to kick down on others to no end. Then go on and on about their good intentions and their duty. Because it's just business right? It's always just fucking business.
That kid is no different from the others. Just another asshole that uses their job as an excuse to enact harm to those subordinated to them. No matter what they wrap it with-
Shit always smells like shit. It's fine though because they don't have to smell it. They force us to smell it. The people whom they kicked to the bottom. They rub your nose in it over and over as you're trying to get back up. No matter how you hold it in, work around, try to make yourself seem small to get by none of it matters.
Nothing matters. Not what you try, not where we go, it never matters. After society decides you're wrong you're wrong there's no way out of it. No changing people's minds, explaining your side, hell it doesn't even fucking matter if the thing they've decided you were wrong about isn't even the damn truth!
Noises kept funneling in through the mirror as I tapped my foot and massaged my temple in annoyance again.
I'm being blamed again. Even though I didn't even do anything wrong.
"I saved you didn't I; so, why the hell are you crying?! Huh?! Shouldn't you thank me? Praise me even?! Why should it be me who's in the wrong?"
He's always like this. Why do I even bother? It's not like he'll hear any of this anyway.
"YOU'RE THE REASON I ENDED UP LIKE THIS- THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS ANSWER!"
The sound reverberated throughout the space in a headache inducing way.
"AHHH!" I scratched at my head before I got up chair toppling over as stormed up to the mirror. "Aagh, you would've gotten destroyed- I DID WHAT I DID FOR YOUR SAKE! IF- if I hadn't... Whatever!" I kicked at the water in annoyance before turning away and laying on the couch. Huh...
"Why is he like this? I don't understand...and it's really beginning to piss me off." I sighed, turning over the couch.
"I've worn myself out enough already anyhow."
The words drifted listlessly from the mirror and I clicked my tongue.
"Finally, something we can agree on."
I just want to sleep until this is over... if we can't even rely on eachother. If you can't even rely on me...I'll start to wonder if you'd rather be alone.
"It's so empty in here."
I grew antsy leaning backwards over the armrest in a haphazard way. Just to check if that mirror was still there. I don't want that...I never wanted that.
I relaxed a little as my eyes landed on it still sitting there as it's always been.
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Why I reckon the liveships make a pretty nifty trans allegory - a mini essay by the Leah
Spoilers for a bunch of ROTE ahead, you have been warned!
So I, somewhat recently, did a full reread of ROTE because I love this book series more than life itself. And on this reread I noticed that I really, really vibed with the liveships this time around. There was something about them that just spoke to me. As I thought on it a little bit, I realised that what the liveships go through, from the liveship traders to the fitz and the fool trilogy, was hugely relatable to me as a trans woman. So that's what I'm here to talk to you funky people about today.
I must preface all this by saying that what I'm about to write is coming from the perspective of a binary trans woman who has medically transitioned. So for you other trans folks who are non binary, or those who aren't interested in medically transitioning, you potentially might not relate to this in the same way I have. Although maybe you will! I don't fucken know, I ain't a mind reader.
Anywho, let's get on with it, shall we?
The part about the liveships that speaks to me is when they finally find out who they are. Throughout the liveship trilogy we get little inklings that there's something up with the liveships. Beyond the obvious fact that these bitches are sentient, talking wood, you get these moments where it seems that there's something more to them than that. The serpents following Vivacia because she smells like she who remembers, paragon dreaming of dragons, Amber/Beloved/Fool/Lord Golden, noted Dragon scalie, being all up in the liveships business. Then we get the big reveal. The liveships aren't just talking wood. They're the husks of unfinished, dead dragons, carved into the likeness of a ship and reanimated by the blood of their captains.
Some of the liveships, like Paragon, had already figured this out. And the reactions by those who didn't already know are a mixed bag. Some ships, like the Tarman, are content to keep living as they are and accept their lives as is. Others, like Vivacia, try to find a synthesis between their respective draconic and human natures. And then you have ships like Kendry. He was, as far as we're aware, mostly happy with his lot as a Liveship. At least he was, until he saw Tintaglia. Once he sees her, that great, beautiful, blue and silver dragon, he immediately realises the wrongness that of his life. He wasn't meant to be a ship, he was meant to be a dragon. A Lord of Sky, land and sea. He's completely incapable of reconciling who he is now with who he should've been, and it crushes him.
In a lot of ways, I'm like Kendry. I never questioned my identity the way Paragon did, I didn't know I was a woman from the age I was four. I just plodded along, accepting that I must be a man despite knowing in my heart that something was deeply wrong with that. And then, like Kendry, I saw a trans woman. And only then did I realise something wasn't right. Only then did I realise that that was what I was meant to be. And again, like Kendry, this crushed me. My current form, carved for me without my consent and enforced onto me by societal expectations, was wrong. And i thought it would stay that way forever.
That was until I found out about this funky little thing called hormone replacement therapy.
And what was that special liquid Robin introduced in her very first trilogy? That's right dear reader, Silver.
That magical goop that can turn stone into dragons, can make nifty Elderling knick knacks, and create a homosexual telepathic bond between our favs Fitz and Beloved, also happens to turn liveships into dragons. Now, disregarding the criticisms I have for how ridiculously convenient it is for silver to do this, I do love the parallel I can draw between silver and HRT. The liveships, who are so deeply unsatisfied with their bodies and long to be like the dragons they were supposed to be, can use this magical medicine to do just that. And as contrived as it may be, I think it's beautiful. Even as the trader's council tries to stop them, or their own families try to convince them to stay as they are, the liveships persevere. Just like me choosing to be a woman, the liveships say fuck you to societal expectations and choose to be dragons.
And to that I say: fuck yeah 🤙🤙.
#realm of the elderlings#the fitz and the fool trilogy#rote#liveship traders#liveship traders trilogy#Vivacia#Paragon#Kendry#trans#transgender#trans woman#Tarman#fitzchivalry farseer#beloved#beloved fool#makes me wonder if all of this was intentional by ye old Robin Hobb#although considering all that gay shit that happens between Fitz and the Fool was allegedly an accident#it makes me doubt that she did this on purpose#but who cares!#we draw the meaning from art that we want#i don't need Robin's permissions#she's not my mother
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okay palisade 27 thoughts
Lots happening this episode!!
MOTIONNNNN!!! Huge fan of motion coming back. The motion scream appearing since the beginning, the motion engines....even back in partizan, it always felt like she was meant to come back, and i LOVE how this is being done. the images were so good.
I like Dust! I like Occam Olio. I like the Us doppelgangers and "they are not dead. they do not leave the tunnels."
Seeing Jesset again also makes me sooooo happy thats my BOY i am jesset fan numero UNO and unfortunately he did get his ass kicked completely but he was cute while he did it and badass.
Elle showing up was beyond exciting! i love to see her!!!
"no one's PRO-Motion" Art has NOT been speaking to my mutuals
Longer thoughts: The big narrative swings (not talking lucia (which i love also) bc that was last ep) were SO cool i love how immediately invested art got in the motion clock, im obsessed with the choices, jesset being put in mortal peril was honestly very fun for me (tragedy enjoyer who loves to mourn their faves)
it really is brutal how authority sweeps every faction turn. on the one hand, I think there is a really good sense of weight and scale here; the authoritarian rulers of a whole planet are not weak and easily toppled, it would be worse if they were always getting beat.
On the other hand, I don't love the way they're going about it. Art backing away from Occam having a character moment SPECIFICALLY because he didn't want to roll and lose a pillar (especially in comparison to keith rolling when he didn't need to duing the stellar combustor arc) was so disappointing. it just felt like a worse story and less fun play. I did not like that at all.
Even though the sense of "the authority is huge and complex and every victory will be a struggle" is good to me and i prefer it, it kind of sucks to feel like the blue channel only faction that DOES anything (even baseline/violet cove mission was mostly a success even though they took the baseline L) Like gucci saying "what do you think we do all day?" girl i think they had your number!! you people are seeming pretty unhelpful!!! i would like it if not just Our Heroes but the entire organization were pulling their weight.
The final thing that occurred to me during the first conflict with jade kill and then got solidified later with art is i think its a huge problem that Hexagon doesnt have more named characters. Blank Shore and Occam Olio and SIlverbrick, the attendants of Gentian, all the higher ups of the Bilats, they have all gotten screen time and exploration and interest from the players. By contrast, most of the named Hexagon members pre-exist the faction games, and they are a lot less fleshed out. The twilight mirage character jack mentioned didnt even get a name. they dont care about them, and we have no one To care about.
So i think in the end i like all the narrative turns this took in terms of big swings and choices, but the energy is leaving me feeling kind of disappointed and uninvested in the individual dice rolls and events and attempts. like i enjoy what they do with the outcomes, but getting to the outcomes this week felt pretty :/ I just wish they would care about the cause too!!! i like what they do with authority but i like the cause and i feel like we dont know them at ALL!
our one former exception was baldwin home who was an outside perspective who deepened the connection a lot, and now he's dead, so like, they've all just become pieces on a board instead of people.
#leaving mostly happy but happiness isnt as conducive to writing out thoughts. happiness just makes me go wheeeeeeeeeeee#i did like the episode i had fun i gasped i yelled. but overall theres some stuff i am tired of thats making it#less fun i guess
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Horror Prompt: Write a story from the perspective of someone who is becoming more and more aware that this process is happening to them. NOT like the baby is swapped out when already birthed either~
(Sorry to paraphrase, it's just the story is already long. Thank you, @doublegoblin, for the prompt. I had an absolute blast writing this.)
Planet Batman
Genres: Light Horror - Long Post
Copyright © 2023. Aster Haze. All rights reserved.
Video Log, Relative Date 238450
[Audio Only]
Something got me today, you know. Funny, I thought you should know about it before I told MED. Probably won’t tell MED anyway, it’s just an itchy spot. Anyways, we were checking out Gregaliton Ac - A planet I nicknamed Batman because there are so many freakin’ bird-bat things flying around. Figure he must be running around somewhere, haha!
Anyways, those bird-bat things? They can be really small. Like the size of your thumb when they’re babies, it turns out. They don’t weigh a thing and will climb all over you if you sit still long enough. I had a cut in my HAZMAT, thin as the side of a coin and only a few centimeters long. Got totally overlooked since the planet was deemed bio-safe. One of those damned things must have nibbled on me through that hole and now I have this tiny itchy spot that is driving me insane.
I scratch and scratch and all it seems to do is spread. Got some antihistamines and they don’t seem to be doing much other than making me tired as hell. It’s also started burning since I’m scratching so much, so I’ve decided just to leave it alone. Anyways, Darling, please don’t tell MED or Cap. This planet is a big break for me, especially since the bat-things are so easy to study, I really think I can get a few papers on extraterrestrial life going and get our names out there but if they find out I didn’t report this as soon as it happened-- they’ll expo me back to Earth and I’ll be done.
I’ll send you another log in about four earth weeks. Love you baby.
Video Log, Relative Date 238510
[Audio Only]
Sorry, I can’t get this damn thing to send you a video log. For some reason, it’s only sending out the audio file. It’ll have to do until I get back to port. Everything’s fine, just fine. That itchy spot went away and it’s like nothing ever happened. We found out the bird-bats drink blood, which I could have told you just by looking at them, and I pretended to have a cold to get some blood tests secretly run. Ran in there after hours and copied the results myself and you know what? Nothing. I told you I’d be totally fine.
They did say that if anyone gets bitten by these things they’re SOL until we get back to port since the full-body scanner is down. No X-rays, no MRIs, Nothing like that. Gonna put them in solitary as a sort of quarantine. So I gotta make sure this stays a secret so I can study these things. I feel stupid for telling you, but I guess you really needed to know. I’m trusting you not to tell anyone.
Anyways, let me tell you more about these bird-bat things…
Video Log, Relative Date 238590
[Audio Only]
Something strange happened to me, Darla. I didn’t want to say anything before, but now it’s obvious. My eyes have been changing color for the past few weeks. I didn’t even notice because they’ve been changing so slowly. You know how I am about my wrinkles, I’m always looking in the mirror, but sure as shit they’ve changed completely. Brown straight into a very bright, noticeable, blue.
George is the one who noticed a few weeks ago, when my eyes were about halfway to being blue. Asked me if I always had blue-brown eyes. Said he’d never seen eyes like mine. Looked into them for a long, long time, admiring them. I keep getting compliments on my eyes, people keep looking into them when they’re talking to me. Like…really looking into them and it’s freaking me out.
Don’t worry baby, I only have eyes for you. Haha! I do miss you though. I never thought I’d be bored on a planet with this many bird-bats flying around. They’re always on the ship, trying to claw their way in with their tiny claws, and they never get anywhere. It’s amusing to say the least.
We think we landed close to where they give birth since every one of the bird-bats we’ve seen around here only get about as big as your hand. Elsewhere, on the mountains though, they’re as big as a lion. We’re pretty sure they drink blood as babies and then end up as cannibals since we haven’t found another living thing on this planet except for the bird-bats and a bunch of plants. At least the little shits sleep underground during the day, or I’d never get any sleep.
Yeah, yeah. I know you hate it when I get my schedule turned around but how am I supposed to study them if they’re sleeping?
Video Log, Relative Date 238690
[Audio Only]
I’m so bored my appetite has gotten horrible. I eat and eat and nothing seems to fill this void I have in my stomach. I end up eating so much I throw everything up and I’m starving. They gave me a blood transfusion today, turns out Georgie and I have the same blood type, and I felt amazing afterwards. I keep joking that I must have had bad blood. MED isn’t too worried about it, I’m healthy otherwise. They think I have some sort of deficiency in something the blood tests aren’t picking up so they’ve put me on a liquid diet, lots of iron pills, and they’re planning on doing a few more iron transfusions to see if it will help.
Video Log, Relative Date 239450
[Audio Only]
Honestly, that blood transfusion helped more than anything. This liquid diet does nothing for me, so I’ve quit. Between the iron transfusions and a little bit of water, I feel okay enough to go about my week without eating at all. Isn’t that insane? My eyes are still blue, Darla. Stop asking about it, I’ll just let you know when they’re brown again. I think it’s something to do with the atmosphere…maybe the star around this planet. I’m not sure.
Video Log, Relative Date 239650
[Audio Only]
People are starting to think I have space madness, Darla. But I don’t. I’m just so bored all the fucking time. I want to move around, to jump, to climb things, but the gym is closed at night. Am I the only one studying these damned bird-bat things? Why am I being punished for being a specialist? I need exercise too. I think I’m going to go running around outside tomorrow night, climb some rocks or something, I need to clear my head. I have all of this pent up energy and I can’t think straight. I’m starving.
Video Log, Relative Date 245431
[Audio Only]
They caught me climbing things. George has been keeping an eye on me, saying he’s suspicious that I have space madness. Something about how sometimes I ramble on and on about things without a “clear direction” or something like that. I just do that. You remember that log I sent where I rambled on about bird-bats? Right? I just talk and talk. I like the sound of my own voice.
Anyways, now I have to have someone with me when I leave the ship. They’re still going to let me study the bird-bats until they migrate. They’re starting to eat each other already. I’m finding little bat-bird bits and pieces everywhere, so plenty of chances to take samples. We think they migrate to find bigger prey, eat everything in the area, and then move on again until they reach the mountain to mate and start the process all over again. I’m still so confused as to why they’re the only species on this planet and how they’ve lasted so long. It’s so strange.
Video Log, Relative Date 245652
[Audio Only]
Next time George sends you a log, I want you to delete it. He’s videoing me all the time, trying to find proof of me having “space madness” so he can get me in solitary. He saw me looking over the HAZMAT suits. I wanted to make sure there were no holes, Darla, I really did. Remember the hole? That suit was still there. What if someone else got in it and got nibbled on by a bat-bird? Then we’d have to go home and my paper would be null and void.
A paper. I’m obsessing over that damned paper.
What if George is right and I do have space madness?
…
That’s impossible. I had all of those tests run and the only change I’ve experienced is the eye color change. Maybe a little ditzyness. Poor appetite. Hell, some people get that just from being away from home too long. George is getting into my head because I’m still starving to death and all of these people keep staring into my eyes when they talk to me still. It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. I wish they’d leave me alone.
Video Log, Relative Date 245662
[Audio Only]
I’m sorry I sounded so frustrated last time. I’m just tired of having people up my ass. But I have good news. George tried to tell Cap that he didn’t like how obsessed I was with the HAZMATs, the whole “space madness” thing. When the Cap asked me about it I told him to read the report I made on the suits, including where I marked the suit with the hole and made a comment that George seems pretty obsessed with the whole space madness and gets antsy around the HAZMATs. I’ll be honest with you Darla, I can’t really believe it. Cap apologized and now I’m allowed to run around on my own again.
He threw George into solitary for harassment. George is the one getting in trouble for not reporting a hole in the suits, not me. It took a lot of talking, a lot of fenagling, but I got the job done. I won’t bore you with the details. Point is, George is in solitary and things are looking up for me for as long as we are on Planet Batman.
I told Cap about the gym and he opened it up for me for a couple of hours a night, so I haven’t gotten in trouble for climbing for a long time. I’ve gotten pretty good, surprisingly good, it’s like my hands just…know where to go. Like my feet just glide right into place. I fucking love it. Not as much as I love you, but pretty damn close.
Video Log, Relative Date 245700
[Audio Only]
I’m really ready to be home. Everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. I know it’s called solitary, but they let you talk to them through the wall since they’re not in real trouble. George and I used to be friends before all of this, you know, you remember George, so I thought I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. Yeah, because George and I were friends before all of this. Just to be nice.
…
Oh fine. I wanted to show him a smug look, okay?
When I got there, we of course got into an argument. Things got heated and…I have a strike on my record now. Cap said he’s just going to mark me down for bad behavior because I’ve never had a strike before. Should expire before we get back to Earth so it won’t go against our credits. I’m sorry Darla, it’s just…everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit--
Video Log, Relative Date 245705
[Audio Only]
Georgie is dead. They found him this morning out behind the rocks that the ship kicked up when it landed. Seems like he fell from on the ship somehow. I have no idea how he could have gotten up there without flying, and the bird-bats are all gone, so I’m not quite sure what happened. Honestly, I have no clue. Not a single one. Not even a crumb of an idea of what happened to poor old George and his magnificent body.
The best thing about this, Darla? I’m finished with my papers. They’re even going to let me come back here in a few rotations to follow up my work. Cap and MED are ecstatic and are calling this mission a total success. I have to say with George gone, that statement is impeccably true.
Love you, Darla. We’ll be taking off in a few days.
Video Log, Relative Date 245709
[Audio Only]
What the fuck, Darla? What the hell is wrong with you? I never got bit by one of those things. I got nibbled, NIBBLED, they never even drew blood. I never stole my medical records, I copied them. Listen, I know you’re angry at me for not sending you a video log for most of the trip, since my eyes changed color, but I can’t believe you’d rat me out like this. You’re lucky my paper was already done or I’d be considering a divorce. Hell, I’m considering one anyway. What in the world makes you think I killed George? He fell, Darla. All you have to go on is a video log you said I sent, which I didn’t, and… you know what Darla? Forget it. We can talk about it when I get home. Consider yourself lucky the Cap thinks you’re the one who has space madness.
#original fiction#original writing#original story#horror writing prompt#writing prompt reply#horror writing prompt reply#writeblr#writing#writers#writers of tumblr#writblr#writerblr#write#writing community
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Movement, voices talking, waves, wind, cold. I see it all at the same moment, a tired but so very open world of mist and gray and water and more and more and more. I'm exhausted but my eyes are so open, they couldn't be dry, the mist seeps under my eyelids and ensures I never have to blink again. I let out a shaky breath, it turns to white vapor, floating to the right half of my face, then dissipating into nothing. Perhaps it mixes with the mist, forming one giant being that lies and sleeps atop the waves, a giant bigger than the sea. Its terrifying to think about, my breath, as small and quiet as it is, being a part of this huge thing. A hivemind, surely, it all must move as one, folding and twisting and churning and boiling and bubbling.
The water laps at my feet, sending me into freezing shock. I inhale quickly as water touches between my toes and chills the nerves that line my ankles and lower legs. It sits in the bottom of my sandals, keeping the bottom of my feet icy. Then it pulls back, leaving the soles wet and my toes curled. I feel electric, like I'm ready to run, to sprint or swim. I don't think I know which. If I run along the beach, it might end. But if I run along the water, swim into the waves which call me and touch me as gently as a mother, I would never find such a thing. An insult, really, to ensue the water has an ending, a finality to it. Truly it could never, it fills the deep crevices of land, deeper past we could possibly imagine. For all we know, our globe is filled with it. The roiling, bubbling deep which knows darkness far beyond any darkness we could perceive. Who knows what's down there. Huge beasts, taller than skyscrapers, like islands, no, continents that move underneath you. The ocean bigger still, isn't even affected, you wont feel but a wave touch you, move you, despite the massive beast which churns the water below.
I suggest to myself, in this moment of contemplation and mania, that the ocean could swallow you then. If we're being honest with ourselves, the sea could swallow us all whenever it deems necessary. At any moment, the waves, the rain, the cold, could push islands under and suffocate cities should it want to. We try to fool ourselves by believing we are above it. "We breathe air, not water!" Yet they aren't very different, are they? The sky is blue because the ocean is blue and the sky and the ocean are so so very big. Vast. Large. The words die at the shoreline, they can't even begin to claim their size. Gargantuan. Perhaps a bigger word would suffice? No, never. It couldn't. You'd need lectures, paragraphs upon paragraphs upon paragraphs of describing their size. You'd barely even touch the surface.
I pause, my heart racing, and squint into the horizon, or where I think it should have been. The gray fog mixes with the gray water and I can't see where one ends and one begins. I think that terrifies me most. More than their size, more than their weight, god the weight. The thought that at any moment, the air I breathe could betray me. Fill my lungs with salty black water and choke me standing. My throat tightens and I grip the necklace around my neck. It isn't special, not nearly. But it grounds me. Holding something so very small in comparison. For a moment, I see myself from outside of me. Looking down on myself, of course, I look so small. Then I consider the being that scares me so and I suggest looking at myself from it's perspective. The view which looks down at me in my head pulls back. I look even smaller, but it's not enough. Back, back, back it pulls, eventually I fade away into a dot, a speck. A grain of sand among the millions on the beach that still do not even hold a candle to the sea.
A hand touches my shoulder and I pull in a sudden breath.
"Hey, you okay? I saw you zoning out there for a sec. We're about to go swimming if you want to come. I know it's cold, but when else is the beach going to be this quiet?"
I swallow and consider it.
"I-I'm okay, thanks. I actually think I'll head back home now."
#thalassophobia#casadastraphobia#megalophobia#agoraphobia#horror#horror writing#writing#creative writing
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DUE TO OUR VASTLY DIFFERENT TIME ZONES i never rly get to check out what youve posted but i see youve named ur katanagatari s/i!!! tellbme abt the kamakiri ship this is ur opportunity to gush !! this offer does not expire also so only gush when you wanna BUT
Thank you! And no worries, I also curse that we live on other sides of the planet. Also thank you for the gush pass, I think I went a little overboard with it 😅
I did name my s/i, his name is Larimar, aka The Preening Merchant! He uses he/him, but refers to himself using the royal ‘we’.
As you can probably guess, Larimar is a merchant, selling a wide variety of supplies for whatever purpose you may need. He acts as if he’s very important, which often comes across to others as being arrogant. He’s ‘from a faraway land’ (white), and his animal theme is a peacock.
His store is actually where he and Kamakiri met! Larimar does sell to the Maniwa Corps, and Kamakiri came in one day to buy and the two of them had a polite conversation. These interactions continued over time as they bumped into each other, and chatting turned into becoming pen pals. Sending letters worked great because it meant they could talk more than once in a blue moon, and it’s when an infatuation started to develop. I think Larimar started crushing first, he really likes Kamakiri’s serious personality, and you can definitely tell he’s into Kami when they’re in the same room together. On the other hand, Larimar is good at his job, he’s friendly, and sometimes the princely demeanor is genuinely charming. It didn’t take long for Kami to reciprocate those feelings.
They continued to write, and from an outside perspective it might have seemed like they were dancing around the obvious subject, but they’re letting things progress however they progress. I doubt Kamakiri has been able to hide his crush from the rest of the Insect Squad though, and there’s been some teasing about it (all meant in good fun, of course. They also hype him up 100% of the way). Jumping ahead a little bit, eventually one of them does breach the topic and makes their feelings clear, and it’s met very positively. I imagine their first kiss happens somewhere tucked away in private, just the two of them. :]
Then Kamakiri leaves for the island, and of course, things go pear-shaped there. Larimar doesn’t get any new letters for a while, and starts to worry. I believe the Maniwa would be kind enough to pass along the news about Kami’s death. Larimar is distraught for a while. I’ll be honest, I don’t have a solid explanation for how Kamakiri comes back - in the back of my head I say that he was resurrected by a wish made by Larimar + all of the love that was stored in their letters. But I feel like that falls apart if you think about it, so I don’t dwell on the why. He gets resurrected somehow. He finds his way back to the mainland, and he and Larimar are able to continue their lives.
That’s all I’ve got in terms of a timeline! I really like their relationship, I’m a big fan of the falling in love via letters/messages trope. Larimar really wants to be seen as important and special, and Kamakiri ends up giving him that, but Kami also shows him that he doesn’t need all the fancy clothes and stature to be liked (not to Kamakiri, at least).
#thank you for asking!#VERY excited to talk about them both tysm#🦚 preening merchant#I also want to give him a fan for the extra peacock motif but I'm worried about stepping on Hitei's toes#AND not about Kami specifically but I think Larimar meets Togame&Shichika briefly at some point
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Day 2 Flufftober: Family, Friends, Loved ones
Here's my second day that I did for the flufftober Made by @flufftober. Hope you guys enjoy. (And this is my first time trying to write in Marielle's perspective.)
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I glance around the table standing in front of us. To have the wondrous Elaine sitting in the desk as she goes and fiddles with her fork. One where a smile trails across her face. And then with Tynan… The darkened knight whose brows twitches as he searches through the two of us.
It’s our first time sitting in the desk together like this. But then, we’re having a lot of firsts together as a power couple.
“Why are you so happy about this?” Elaine says, and I give a smile.
“Because Lainy, you’re just so funny when you’re always just asking countless questions about me. “It’s like I’m an anomaly to you, lil’ sis.”
“Please do not call me your little sister.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” I laugh, “I’m the cool, awesome mom, while you’re the little big child who needs to be pampered in the cottage constantly.”
“Marielle!” Elaine's hard and sharp voice says. But I keep on laughing.
“And Tynan’s the dad.” I point towards him, but he gives an unamused glance.
“Marielle.” He says, with his voice grumbles, “I am sure we talked about this.”
“And we’ll keep on talking about it until the day we all die.” I say, as I give the greatest laugh ever… Too bad they don’t know humor. Even if both of their hearts twist against mine at the presumed sense of worse humor in the world. “Anyway, I shall have squid.” And I go and grasp the bucket that I had inside of me, and got a big headed animal with eyes dulled and tentacles flopped against the table. And their faces…! I have to laugh at how their faces twists and turns as if there’s something wrong with it…!
“Lainy, Ty, You guys have never eaten squid?” Their expressions makes it so obvious, and I turn towards Elaine. “I would think that they’d serve these sort of stuff to you, Lainy.”
“No…!” She slams the desk, but then her ears twitches, as her slit eyes glimpses towards me. But then, she sits back down on the seat. “Actually, they did serve me squid once; I hated it. So please, not under any circumstances insist that I’d have to try this slimy, barely cooked squid.” I stared at her. She’s as strict as a child without any sense of good culinaries.
“Ty! You must try it!” I say, bring it closer to him… And even he’s looking with his brows curved slightly… But it doesn’t seem of disdain.
“Is it like fish…? Like trout?”
“Ooh, it is even better!” I say, “Here, try this.” And I thrust the tentacle out until it gets pulled out. And I place it on the table as he stares at me. He goes and picks it up with his beak and starts eating it. And Lainy is just coughing and gurgling as she twists her head away. But he uses his claws to hold it as he keeps on eating it. “So, how does it taste?”
“I will admit, it is not the worst thing I tried.” He says. “But it could be better.”
“Whaat!?” I say, “How?” And his beak twitches up.
“Maybe with some pepper, a dash of lemon and… Parmesan.”
“Parmesan…?” Why have fish with dairy…? It tastes so much better by itself.
“You eat cheese!?” Elaine voice echos, that I nearly bounce off the table as she points towards him, and Tynan's head tilts to the side.
“Uhh, not typically.” The blue owl says, as his big wide eyes glances towards me. “I just heard that squid tentacles is great with parmesan. That is, if I’m not wrong.” And I give a nod…
“Did you read it from a book?”
“Culinary of fine arts, seafood section, page fifty three.” Wow... That's very... Specific.
“So Ty… How often do you read books?” I say, leaning closer to him. “I mean, having to leave your own library for this? I doubt you’d have any time to read. while you're with us.”
“Marielle, I read as often as I can. Whenever I can, wherever I can.” He says crunching his beak. “It doesn’t really matter where you’re at, as long as I'm reading something, it's is fine by me.” He eats another piece of the squid, as he glimpse towards me. “Besides, it is my dad’s, not mine.”
“But still, it’s so cool to have to meet a princess and a librarian in Aeromount Ridge… It’s so awesome…!” And with the soft smile trailing Tynan’s beak to Elaine rubbing the back of her neck… I have to admit. It’s so nice here…!
If you guys are interested in looking into some of the other prompts that I have done from the previous months, check it out here:
#sorcerer of runes (sor) series#Sorcerer of Runes#Elaine#Tynan#Marielle#Elaine Tynan & Marielle#flufftober2023
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Wed March 1 2023
- grateful for sleeping in till 10am omg I forgot how nice it is to have Wednesdays off. It felt like such a luxury to start the morning at home at my pace.
- grateful for time flying by quickly. Read about this briefly in Stay True memoir about how life moves too fast to keep too many precious things. Only keep the essentials. I’m lucky life moves fast and is mostly uneventful and I keep up, rather than having to struggle through chronic health conditions or grieve a loss right now. Life feels supple and healthy for the most part and I am grateful for the smooth ride.
- grateful for ceramics as always and getting more and more comfortable with the clay under my hands on the wheel. Grateful for not being attached to my pieces and throwing away my vase that I was struggling so hard to trim. Grateful for Sophia coming and getting to spend some time bonding and chatting with her
- grateful for tennis w Jenn and how bubbly we both were from the moment we greeted each other. She brings out so much positivity and love in me and we just bounce off each other in that playful way sometimes. We both got frustrated w tennis but never with each other, always with ourselves. Grateful she keeps up with my life and asks me about my weekend and breakfasts and tells me about her medical condition and answers honestly when I ask heavier things about how she feels. Grateful to share this activity together and that we stay positive even on our bad days. Love her so much! So lucky to be her friend!!!
- grateful for finally starting my capstone data analysis. I have literally been putting this off since March 2022 and I finally sat down and started. It took a while but I got into it and feel like I’ve made progress! Got the gears going
- grateful for the low stress of studying lately, the blocks feel more chill and I know I have dead week so I am able to relax a bit and take my foot off the pedal in terms of pacing my studying. ITS SO NICE to not always feel behind and like I need to keep up and do more in my free time
- grateful for TikTok briefly for the funny content and inspiring stuff i see but it really soaks up too much of my time so I need to delete it. Grateful for the self awareness and intuition telling me I don’t need it in my life at the moment. Discipline uggggh but long term healthy
- grateful for THE BLUE SKY TODAY omg it was gorgeous while I was biking and the sun shined down and it actually was so simple yet brightened my mood so much. esp after all the rain lately. I remember consciously noticing it bringing me joy and wanting to note it :)
- grateful again for physical 100 and watching together w Andy and sharing commentary and the treadmill. Best evening ever
- grateful for him talking to me about his lower mental health lately and insecurities about friends and me sharing my thoughts and him being so thankful for my insight and advice it almost turned his mood around 180. Grateful he appreciates my particular interest of building relationships in life and finds it valuable to hear my perspective, which feels so natural to me! Grateful we both value growth and are aware of our “awakened” selves/on the same page about it. Feel connected moreeee luv
No pic from today so here is live selfie as I type this and keep up this good habit! Gratitude gains club
Health gratitude: eating late lunch, eating lighter dinner after big snacks, cutting fruit, eating carrots and hummus
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until dawn - ljn
part I | part II
⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.
⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader
⤑ word count: 14k
⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au
⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language
⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.
i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.
⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!
Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.
Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.
Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?
He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.
“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.
“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”
The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.
Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.
As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.
The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.
The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.
Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.
Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.
Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.
He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.
To my temporary replacement,
This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.
Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.
Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.
Good luck!
Park Sanghoon
Night Guard on Leave
Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.
Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.
It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.
There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.
The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.
That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.
“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”
“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.
“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”
While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.
“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”
Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.
Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.
The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.
“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”
“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”
“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”
“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”
Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.
Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.
With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.
Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.
“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”
After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.
“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.
Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”
“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”
Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.
Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.
“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”
“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”
“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.
Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.
It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.
Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.
On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.
Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.
It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.
“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.
Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.
“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.
“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.
Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.
“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.
“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”
Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.
“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”
Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.
“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”
“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.
Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.
“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”
Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.
Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.
(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)
Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.
Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.
The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.
This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.
Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.
She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.
In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.
In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.
“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”
Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.
A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?
You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.
He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.
“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?
Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”
Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.
Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.
There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.
“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”
If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.
“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.
Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.
“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.
“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”
This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!
“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”
“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”
“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”
While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.
“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”
Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.
“How can I make her come around then?”
A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.
There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.
“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”
“How about the second way?”
“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.
“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”
Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.
Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.
His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.
During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.
Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.
Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.
Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.
He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.
Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.
After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.
“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”
“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.
“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”
“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.
Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”
People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.
Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.
An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.
One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.
Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.
The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.
The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.
Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.
Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.
Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.
Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.
Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.
Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.
On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.
“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”
“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”
Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.
Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.
“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.
He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.
On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.
From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.
“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”
“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”
“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”
The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”
Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.
Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.
Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.
“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.
“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.
“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”
“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”
“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”
“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”
Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.
However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.
“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”
Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”
“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”
“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.
If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?
“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”
“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”
“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”
“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”
“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”
“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”
Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.
But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”
“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”
Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.
This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.
Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.
“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”
As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”
“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”
“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.
“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”
“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”
“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”
She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.
You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.
While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.
“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.
Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.
A win he didn’t feel good about.
“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”
These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.
He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.
The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.
Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.
Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.
He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.
Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.
Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.
“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”
Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.
Why were you so cold?
What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?
When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.
Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.
Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.
You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.
Boom.
According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.
It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.
“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”
Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.
Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.
You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.
Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.
It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.
“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.
“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”
“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.
“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”
“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”
“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”
Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.
“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”
“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”
“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.
“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”
“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.
“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”
With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.
“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”
“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”
During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.
“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”
“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”
“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”
“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”
“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”
“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.
“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”
“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”
“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”
Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.
He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.
On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.
Was he with his friends?
Was he resting well?
From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.
While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.
To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.
“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”
“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”
“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”
A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.
“Where is he, Princess Diana?”
Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.
“Over there.”
Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.
Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.
Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.
Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.
Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.
“That’s absolutely beautiful.”
Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.
He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.
The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.
Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?
“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”
To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.
Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”
As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.
“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”
Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.
Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.
Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.
“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.
“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.
“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”
Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.
“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”
“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”
“Why so?”
“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”
Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”
For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.
“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.
“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”
After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.
There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-
Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.
Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.
Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.
But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.
With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.
The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.
Lee Jeno specifically was the view.
His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.
Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.
Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.
Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.
For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.
Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.
Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.
“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.
“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”
This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.
“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.
But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.
“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”
“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.
Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,
“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”
“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.
Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”
“Can we start over then?”
“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”
Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.
Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.
Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.
With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.
Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.
So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.
I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!
To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?
PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.
Respectfully,
(Y/N)
Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.
Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.
“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”
#nct#nct au#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct angst#nct smut#nct imagines#nct dream#nct dream au#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#lee jeno#lee jeno x reader#lee jeno au#lee jeno scenarios#lee jeno angst#lee jeno imagines#lee jeno fluff#lee jeno smut#jeno#jeno x reader#jeno au#jeno scenarios#jeno imagines#jeno fluff
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Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!
Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!
Source: Me
Finished Fanfics:
Multi-chaptered Fanfics:
that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know
Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.
The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.
Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?
in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade
Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.
MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!
you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon
Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.
(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)
+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one
Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.
Responsible Forever by SilverWing15
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
/////
“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”
“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”
“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”
“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”
“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.
Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion
Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons
Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent
Sam blinks. “What?”
Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”
Sam is going to be sick.
Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.
Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh
Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable
After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.
It takes a war to bring him back.
+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending
Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream
Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum
“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.
The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.
Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices
Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.
Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)
Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.
To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.
This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.
Part of a series, very good.
Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias
Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.
AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.
Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.
I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale
The first time it happens, he barely remembers.
The second time is when he realized.
The third...
Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern
“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”
Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.
This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous
Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?
(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)
Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.
let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun
Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive.
Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough.
And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life.
His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past.
He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside.
Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people.
But trust is how you die.
Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.
Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15
Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.
Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.
He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s.
////
OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.
Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.
One-Shots:
Snapped by AmberRunnel
“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”
Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.
“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”
-|-
Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well.
There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.
It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.
It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.
the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution
An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.
He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.
You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia
"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."
Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.
Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.
Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.
"Kill me."
Or...
In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.
Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.
tomorrow night by meridies
Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.
or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.
It's cute what can I say :]
maple syrup by itisjosh
"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."
"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."
(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)
Children get away from toxic adults :)
Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe
‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’
To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.
Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.
sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa
“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”
Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.
It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.
a matter of time by meridies
Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."
or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.
Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.
That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust
Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.
At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.
Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.
Part of a collection!! Read it all.
spider lily by blue000jay
Wilbur has a body.
The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.
(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)
The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(
Hands tied loose by rabiddog
"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."
-
Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.
But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.
Unhappy ending :(
The serpent underneath by rabiddog
Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)
-
“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”
:((((((((
Damning choices by rabiddog
Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.
Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.
It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.
-
"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."
:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((
Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog
Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.
He doesn't care at all.
-
"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"
:)
Word of Honour by rabiddog
Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.
-
Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)
Almost canon. F.
Sweet Repentance by rabiddog
Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.
Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.
-
Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.
Tommy dies painfully.
A White Tulip by astervoid
He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.
Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.
lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass
"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.
~
It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.
The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.
Dear Theseus by rabiddog
Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.
-
“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?
Tommy almost wins.
A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman
How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?
The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
How could he have known this would happen?
-
Sequel to A Child's World
Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.
heart of the sea by RyDyKG
Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:
Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.
Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.
He knows, ok? by Ralli
By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.
Very, very cute :)
that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat
Tommy has always been the fighter.
He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.
If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.
---
Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.
Messed up, but with a happy ending.
Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog
Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.
He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.
-
Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.
I love this author if you can't tell.
Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy
The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.
At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.
“Tommy?”
And then Tubbo turns to look at him.
Clingyduo fluff.
sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter
The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.
Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.
SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.
Sad, but cathartic.
REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit
i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST
this is different from what i usually post but it was fun
i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!
What it says on the tin- not really a fic.
Unfinished Stories:
Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):
Over the River Styx by CorpseArt
I feel like we should name him.
There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.
I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.
He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?
I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.
-
Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.
Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.
If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions
“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.”
----
In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.
It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.
Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523
Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.
OR
In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.
Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.
A Talk Long Overdue by penink
Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.
Tommy gets therapy.
Into the Night by Interjection
“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”
They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.
“But why?”
Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.
“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”
“And I don’t want to come back.”
Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.
But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.
---
(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.
A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)
Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.
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The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)
Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.
A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.
Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.
Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.
“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.
He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.
“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”
“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”
The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.
You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.
Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”
You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.
You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”
Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.
“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”
Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.
He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.
Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.
Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.
Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.
A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.
“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”
He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.
“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”
Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.
“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.
“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”
He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.
He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.
Do it for Y/n.
Do it for Y/n.
Do it for Y/n.
“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”
“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.
As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.
However, to your surprise, there were none.
“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”
Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.
Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.
“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”
“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.
You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.
“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”
“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”
Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.
“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.
He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.
“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”
Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.
“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.
The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.
“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.
“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.
He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.
“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.
“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.
“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”
“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”
“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.
Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”
“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.
Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.
“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”
Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”
The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.
“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”
“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”
“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”
“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”
“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.
“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.
“No!”
“Yes!”
“NO!”
“YES!”
“I SAID NO!”
“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”
With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.
Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.
As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.
“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.
“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”
~
Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.
You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?
“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”
Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.
“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”
“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”
“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.
Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.
“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”
Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.
“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”
“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.
Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.
“No…?”
“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”
You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.
Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.
“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”
You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.
Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.
“This is going to be a long ride home…”
Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.
#Legolas x reader#Legolas imagine#lotr imagine#lotr x reader#x reader imagine#x reader#lord of the rings#lotrdaily#lotr movies#the hobbit#elves#hobbit#lotr shitpost#mirkwood#legolas#Legolas shitpost#lord of the rings x reader#hobbit x reader#the hobbit x reader#the lord of the rings x reader#Tolkien x reader#middle earth x reader#fellowship x reader#fellowship of the ring x reader#elf x reader#lotr fanfic#lotr
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A Life Saver
•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER
•Overview: Levi saves you, someone he barely knew, from certain death
•Warnings: mentions of death, gore description, cursing, near death experience, bit of angst, very brief mention of sex
•Season: season one range with a few altercations
-
At first, you didn’t want to become a scout. The thought of putting your life on the line wasn’t appealing, and it really just scared the hell out of you. Serving in the military police was a path you chose to go down. It was what you wanted for awhile then things started to not feel right.
The scouts were putting other lives before their own and you began to admire their bravery. Even when things looked like there was no light on the other side they pushed through. They proved that even mass death can result in a small victory that gave the people hope, something to help the nation push forward.
After serving in the military police for many years you decided it was time to step down. You wanted to become a scout, you wanted to help make a change. Your comrades thought you were absolutely insane, and they begged you to not make the choice. You refused, and soon you joined the scouts.
Mission after mission you survived and killed titans. You lost friends way too often, and the hurt and loneliness that came with the job would make anyone break. You’d been broken from the inside out in ways you’d never imagined. At the end of the day, you knew it was for the greater good.
The hope for a change only became greater when a boy showed up with the abilities of a titan. You knew to have such strength on your side was promising, and you saw light at the end of the extremely dark tunnel.
You’d served many long heart wrenching years by the time hope like that had shown up, and it only pushed you to keep going. You longed to live in a world without titans. All you wanted was to run free in field and see new things.
Today was a normal day, but that’s how any bad day starts. You’d woke up early to watch the sunrise with your close, and pretty much last friend, Molly. She was the best person you’d ever met and had been by your side for years. You had never admired anyone more than her.
“You know that titan kid is only fifteen, isn’t that insane?” She says before taking a sip of the coffee you had made her.
Your eyebrows raise at her words, “Wait really?”
The women laughs a bit at your shocked reaction then nods her head. She sets her coffee on the blanket you two are sitting on then leans back onto her hands, staring up at the sky that swirls with colors of orange and pink.
“To have this kind of hope is the best feeling i’ve had in years,” she says, “this is going to unlock so many closed doors we don’t know about. I think that finally we’re going to get some answers about how the hell the world turned into this mess.”
The smile on her face was full of such joy. She truly was excited for the future, you’d never seen someone actually look forward to what is lying ahead. A few days ago everyone thought titans would rein for hundreds of more years. Then all of the sudden that perspective has changed and no one knows what is going to come next.
“Yeah, I hope the future is bright,” you whispered.
You lay down to stare up at the sky, and Molly follows your movements. The two of you lay there in silence, thinking of a peaceful world where so much fear and death does not exist. You turn your head to look at your bestfriend to find her eyes are already on you.
“Our futures are bright, (y/n),” she says with a smile, “We’re going to live in cute little houses by the ocean!”
You can’t help but smile and roll your eyes at her. She always brought up this big body of water she’d read about in an illegal book when she was a teenager. The women could go on an on about it, as if she’d seen it before herself.
“If the ocean is even real,” you say with a smirk.
She scoffs at you before rolling her eyes harder than you just had, “Of course it’s real!”
You two spend the next hour talking about what you’d do or who you’d be doing if life were different. Molly wished for a family, to fall in love. She’d talked about it many times before but she refused to bring children into a world like this. You felt similar, expect children weren’t really on your radar. You longed to fall in love and grow old with someone.
But everyday brought death and destruction. You didn’t want to fall madly in love and then watch your whole world crumble as a titan took them away from you. The pain you had from your friends screaming your name as monsters had them in their grip was already too much to bare.
Heavy footsteps came in your direction at high speed, and soon you could hear heavy breathing along with it. You and Molly sat up quickly and saw one of your comrades running at you with pure fear in their eyes.
“Wall rose has been compromised!” They scream, voice laced with panic.
Molly’s eyes widen right as yours do. The feeling of uncertainty course through your veins almost instantly. You’ll never get used to the way your stomach drops when you hear things like that. Who could ever get used to that? Knowing you’re about to watch more people die would make anyone feel this way.
Before you know it you’re running to get your uniform on and strap on your gear. No one saw this coming. Then again, how the hell would they see this coming? You scramble to find you gear and you panic as it’s no where to be found.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You yell as the panic begins to set in.
Hands grab each of your shoulders to hold you still, and that’s when you see Molly’s worried eyes. She looks at you with concern. The last mission had both of you on edge more than ever before. Both of you lost someone dear, someone who was close to you as you were to each other. Knowing that today you could lose Molly was making your mind and body think like a mad man.
“You gear is with my stuff, remember? You didn’t want to lose it so you asked me to hold onto it,” she reminds you.
The sweet women pulls you into a tight hug, and you can feel her body trembling. The two of you had no time for this, people were probably already being slaughtered. Right as you begin to think this a scream rips through the air, one that makes you two grip one another tighter.
“We’re going to fight and we’re going to survive,” she says sternly, “do you hear me? Don’t you dare die on me (y/n).”
You nod into her chest as tears begin to form in your eyes. So much could change in an instant and you wished time could freeze so you could hug your bestfriend forever. But reality was sinking in and you knew you had titans to kill and lives to save.
The hug was short lived, and soon you were faced with the destruction held within wall rose. Titans stomped around mindlessly, some with those creepy smiles that you absolutely hated.
Your blades cut through nape after nape and your head was starting to spin. Somewhere along the way you lost Molly, which had never happened before. You hated not having her around. The constant fear of not knowing what position she could possibly be in made you sick to your stomach.
You flew through the air at a high speed, trying to get leverage on the abnormal that was chasing after you. It’s mouth hung open as it’s disgusting blood drenched touched dripped into the buildings below. You’d never faced an abnormal and didn’t expect it to dodge your attack minutes ago.
Sure you were extremely skilled but it’s hard to work your way around a fast moving titan. It’s arms flew in the air behind it, the beast was an odd sight. You’d never witnessed a titan act so strangely before.
You’d been observing the monster too closely, but only for a few seconds. But as any soldier knows, a few moments can cost you your entire life. You turned your attention back infront of you but you didn’t have time to react before you slammed into a chimney. Out of all things that could’ve contributed to your death it just had to be a damn chimney.
The impact made your vision blur and you couldn’t even really feel the pain. The sun beamed down on you as your body layed limp on the rooftop. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and you wished you could fly up there with the birds and be free.
The abnormals hand picked you off the home as if you were nothing, only a small ant compared to it. It’s eyes were completely lifeless as it stared at you with hunger.
“Don’t you dare die on me (y/n)!”
Molly’s words rang through your mind but you couldn’t move. The injury to your head made you feel as if you were in a dream. There was no sense of reality right now, you couldn’t even comprehend that you were about to reach your end.
In a way you knew, reality wasn’t too far off. But you couldn’t find the energy to fight back. It had all been drained from you as the battle continued, and the final blow left you motionless.
You closed your eyes hoping somehow that’d stop you from feeling the coming pain. Every part of you didn’t want to die. Molly’s dreams about living by the ocean had become yours as well even if you wouldn’t admit it. The thought of leaving her with no body brought tears to your eyes.
That’s when you tried to move with the little energy left in your body, but it was no use. The tears began to stream down your face and the fear began to set in. Fear like this had never been within you, it was a brand new feeling. You guess certain death does that to you.
“No!” You say as loud as you can, “Someone please help me!”
Knowing this is what so many of the people you loved had to experience broke your heart. It was already bad enough to know they were gone and you couldn’t have saved them. But this was so much worse, they died with such fear. Fear that almost paralyzed you.
The sound of blades ripping through skin filled your ears. The titans grip on you loosened, then let go completely. You felt yourself falling, but you kept your eyes closed. Fear had already made its way to every inch of your body and you couldn’t move even more than before.
Right before you slammed to the ground below strong arms caught you. A grunt slipped past the unknown persons lips at the impact of your body. They carried you into a near by tavern that was deserted of people, then set you on one of the tables.
“Hey,” the deep voice said, “c’mon now I know you aren’t dead, don’t go out like this.”
Your eyes fluttered open to see the dangerously handsome man in your face. He was awfully close, you could feel his breath on your nose. His eyes were wide with concern.
“Captain Levi?” You asked followed by a gut wrenching cough. Blood splattered onto your lips and you groaned.
He couldn’t have been the one who saved you, right? You’d only talked to Levi a handful of times, and all were him giving you orders. You’d never had a desire to talk to him even if you found him incredibly attractive.
You’d admired the man for years as well. He has lost as many people as you, maybe more. He had already been on the scouts for many years before you joined. The man had watched the passion you held as you killed titans at alarming speed. He knew exactly who you were and what you had to offer, that’s why he saved you.
He smiled softly at you, not even enough for you to notice. For a second he thought you wouldn’t wake up and he’d be carrying a lifeless body back to medical. You cough a bit more before sitting up. A gasp slips past your lips and pain shoots through your body.
“Holy shit that fucking hurts,” you curse.
You see the fresh blood on your hands and wonder if it’s yours. The pounding in your head only increases as you move. The room felt like it was spinning and you may vomit any second.
“Do I need to take you to medical?” He asks with concern in his voice.
Your vision looks at the raven haired man and your memory starts to come back. One second you were flying through the air and then stupidly slammed into a chimney. And that damned titan was about to feast on you, what a bitch. Then you realized Levi was the one who stopped you from your near death.
“Why did you save me?” You ask without answering him first.
He sighs at your question. He had only moved that fast to save someone a handful of times. It just felt right to save you. He was there, you were there, he couldn’t just let you die. It wasn’t too far out of reach, he had already been headed in your direction.
“Because you’re strong and the scouts need you,” he answers, “now tell me if I need to take you to medical.”
His features were stern and it made your stomach flip a bit. If there weren’t titans outside and pain wasn’t consuming your body you may have thrown out a stupid flirtatious remark due to your bubbly personality. But this wasn’t the time and place no matter how good the captain looked right now.
“I just need a minute,” you said softly as you pushed your weight off the table.
You hissed in pain before stretching your body. The bones in your body crack loudly and you let out a low grunt at the feeling. The pounding in your head began to simmer and you took deep breaths.
“Thank you captain Levi,” you said, “my friend would’ve personally brought me back to just kill me herself.”
He chuckled a bit at your remark and you couldn’t even recall captain Levi smiling let alone chuckling. This whole situation was weird and unrealistic to you. Maybe you were already dead and this was your afterlife. A hot guy saves you and later you two will go to bone town, sounds pretty fun.
“I literally ran into a chimney,” you grumbled.
Levi’s eyes squinted at your words in confusion, “You what?”
“I didn’t get caught by a titan while trying to kill it heroically. I wasn’t paying attention for like three seconds and slammed into a damn chimney, not too sure the scouts really need me,” you say.
He shakes his head at your words and was becoming annoyed by your self doubt.
“I know, I saw,” he says and your cheek almost immediately turn red, “and I still saved you cause I thought you were worth it.”
You couldn’t get words out after what he said. You only stared at him in shock. He saw you make a foul out of yourself but yet still risked his life to save you. Levi truly was an interesting man.
“Well then, thank you again,” you say, “maybe I should thank you in a different way.” You wiggle your eyebrows then let out a laugh into your palm as his face falls at your words.
“Holy shit i’m kidding, please don’t make me do laps for that. Jokes make me feel better,” you still were holding back laughter at the face Levi made. You never thought you’d make the captain flustered like that.
“Uh,” his cheeks redden, “We need to get back out there. It’s starting to get worse, are you sure you’re okay (y/n).”
You take a deep breath before nodding your head. The two of you immediately begin to speed walk towards the open door of the tavern.
“I’m going to need you to follow me. The titans are huddled in the west and help is needed there,” he orders you and you respond with a yes captain, which always makes you cringe.
“Oh and by the way,” he says with a smirk, “that other way of thanking me is always welcome.”
This time he leaves you flustered. He heads west and you stand there for a few seconds before you remember you’re supposed to be following him. His remark might have you slamming into another chimney.
After fighting for hours many people had been successfully moved to wall sina. Some titans still mindlessly walked around within the walls of rose, but atleast many people were saved. There was still a great heartfelt loss that day.
When you got back to base your heart was pounding in your ears. All you could think about was Molly and if she was okay. You hadn’t seen her since you two got separated during the hell bent events. Your eyes scanned frantically through the base, searching for her everywhere.
Your mind went to the worst place possible and you begin to panic. She had to be okay, she was all you had. You needed her more than anyone else. If she’s gone you might as well let a titan eat you during your next mission. Molly kept you alive, and kept you fighting.
“(y/n)?” You hear a familiar deep voice ask.
You spin on your heals and are met with the same deep brown eyes that saved you earlier today. Levi looked upset, face a bit fallen. That’s when your heart sank to your stomach. Did he know where Molly was? Or if she had even made it back?
“Follow me,” he says without any other detail.
He starts walking and you immediately follow as your heart races. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. Your eyes scan to a sign that says medical as Levi opens the door below it.
You’re led to a the back of the room and you gasp at the sight. On the bed layed Molly with bandages covering many parts of her body. Your eyes fill with tears at the safe shes in, this was too much.
“She’s going to be okay, and the nurse told me she should be up soon,” he says.
You nod your head at his words before reaching to hold Molly’s hand, it was cold as ice.
“Can you please get her a blanket,” you state, it wasn’t even a question. It was more like you weren’t letting go of her hand, more like you couldn’t.
Levi nods and fetches her a couple blankets. He covers her for you and you thank him. The tears still run down your face, but you had already stopped wiping them away. It was no use because they just kept coming harder and harder as you looked at your bestfriend.
“Thank you Levi, I would’ve gone crazy looking for her back there,” you smile through the hurt.
He only hums in response to your words, letting silence fill the air. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder and his fingers move slightly to give you some comfort. It truly was a nice feeling to have someone with you right now, you might think too hard if he wasn’t here.
“I’ll give you some space-“ “no,” You cut him off, “please don’t go.”
Levi sees the hurt in your eyes. He could tell you needed someone right now even if he wasn’t much of a comforting person.
“okay,” he whispers.
He then pulls up a chair next to yours and sits with you for the next few hours in silence. It was somewhat nice, for both of you. Molly begins to stir in her sleep and your perk up. Her eyes flutter open and the first thing she sees is you and she smiles.
“We’ll look at that,” she smiles, “you’re just obsessed with me aren’t you (y/n).”
You laugh through happy tears forming in your eyes. She takes a deep breath and tries to stretch her body but the pain to still too much. She feels your grip on her hand and she squeezes at yours.
“You didn’t think i’d go out that easily did you,” she asks with a smirk on her chapped lips.
“Not for a second,” you said back almost immediately.
She lets out a small laugh at your words. For a second she did think she was going to die as a titan smacked her body mid-air, but that’s all she can remember. It was that, and then she wakes up in medical confused as hell. But seeing you made her know she definitely was okay. Her eyes scan to the figure next to you to see captain Levi. You’d told her before that you’d totally jump his bones if he let you.
“Did you screw the captain while I was out?” she asks playfully.
You and Levi’s breath hitch at her words and she can’t help but let out a laugh. It hurt her chest to laugh that hard but it also in a way made her feel better.
“Really Molly? You were just half dead a few minutes ago and that’s what you wanted to say?” You couldn’t help but laugh along with her. You’d rather her make you and the captain flustered than her be dead.
Levi couldn’t help but smile widely, but he put his head down to hide it. That day you and Levi developed a liking for each other, and both of you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this way.
The lives you each led was going to make it hard, but feelings are strong.
After an hour or so of talking to Molly she fell back asleep for some well needed rest. Levi walked with you down the hall back to your room, making small talk that was hard to even keep going.
“Thank you again Levi,” you look at him with sparkling eyes, “I’m pretty sure anyone else besides Molly would’ve let me be titan desert.”
“Of course, I would never let you be titan desert,” he mumbles the last part. He’d never heard someone refer to themselves as titan desert before, it almost made him laugh.
You stop at your door and look at his with an adoring gaze. He truly was nice looking, and incredibly brave. You wanted to be just like him, you wanted to be even stronger than him one day.
Before you could think you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. His eyes widen and his face heats up. The action rendered him speechess and he watched as your reached for the handle and opened the door before slipping in your room without another word.
He stayed in the hallway for a few seconds staring at where you just stood.
“Shit,” he whispered.
That only sparked his feelings for you further, and he knew this was the beginning of something he’d been avoiding his whole life.
Love.
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman#levi#ackerman#anime#aot anime#aot#aot x reader#aot season 4#levi x reader#levi imagine#levi fanfic#levi imagines#levi x you#levi x y/n#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman imagine#levi ackerman fanfic#levi headcanons#levi ackerman headcanons#love#romance#imagine#fanfic#smut#Levi smut#levi ackerman smut
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yandere!taeyong: monster.
part two: Here
▹ a/n : I tried to write something a little outside my comfort zone. I've been enjoying writing Yandere stuff lately and I wanted to do a realistic take on the after effects of being kidnapped by a Yandere, and ultimately becoming pregnant. Like I always say, this is an example of a unhealthy relationship. In no way do I think Taeyong or any other member of NCT behaves this way.
▹ triggers : this gets kind of dark and It's very angsty. There's no smut but it gets a little suggestive at the end. Mentions of unwanted pregnancies, extreme weight loss, kidnapping, abusive relationships, etc. Please take all of this into consideration before you read.
▹ description : yandere!taeyong kidnapped you and has been holding you hostage for months. Unfortunately you wind up pregnant and Taeyong has pledged to build a life with you, and your baby as a family. When Taeyong presents you with a choice, you realize that you’ve become permanently trapped by Taeyong forever.
your perspective
I grimaced as I looked back at my reflection in the mirror. My skin was extremely dull and paler than usual due to the lack of sun I'd been getting.
I looked nothing like myself, I had dropped a significant amount of weight in just a couple months. It's been hard keeping food down lately, I don't have an appetite for anything, and whatever I do eat I immediately throw up.
My arms and legs looked more like sticks than actual limbs, and places where I used to have feminine curves were replaced by hard angles.
I had even suffered some hair loss due to losing a drastic amount of weight in such a short period of time.
My grimace turned into a scowl as my eyes traveled down to my swollen belly.
I was reaching seven months pregnant, close to entering my third trimester. My body had become so thin and frail that it looked like I'd topple over due to my large belly.
My fists clenched tightly as I stared down at my stomach, as if the thing growing inside me could see me glaring down at them.
'I want you gone.' I thought to myself.
If I'm lucky, maybe this monster inside me will die of malnutrition.
I pinched my arm to shake the dangerous thoughts from my head.
I cut the bathroom light off and exited the bathroom, forgetting what I had originally went in there for before getting distracted by my own reflection.
The clock's hand on the wall just outside the bathroom moved towards the six, and everyday just like clockwork, the keypad to the front door beeped and swung open, revealing him.
The reason my belly is so big.
The reason there's a monster growing inside me.
Lee Taeyong.
"Honey! I'm home-
Taeyong paused as his eyes fell on me, "Ah, there you are. Were you waiting on me?" He questioned with a wide smile as he kicked his shoes off.
My eyes drifted down to the black plastic bag in his hand, I ignored his greeting and silently pointed to the bag.
Taeyong chuckled as he approached me, placing a kiss on my cheek, "You're impatient today aren't you?"
Taeyong leaned down to my stomach and placed a tender kiss on my belly, "Hi baby." He whispered.
I felt like vomiting.
"Appa's home now." He said with a smile before standing.
He headed over to the table in the middle of the living room, placing the bag down. I followed behind him closely, my curiosity getting the best of me. He kneeled next to the table as he fished out the contents of the bag.
"Don't you want to see?" He questioned as he paused to look up at me.
I blinked at him blankly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
Taeyong smirked knowingly at me before patting the spot on the couch before him. His eyes followed me as he watched me enter the living room and take a seat in front of him on the couch. He never moved from his original spot on the floor as he continued rifling through the black bag in search of something.
"It's been a while since you've painted your toenails right?" He asked as he pulled the contents from the bag to show me an assortment of brightly colored nail polishes.
I sighed as I peered down at my toenails, the paint on them was still there from when I did them a few weeks ago, although now the paint had started to chip and peel in different places. I couldn’t stand the sight of my toenails when they got like that, I was actually thankful when my belly had gotten so big I could no longer see my own feet.
I couldn't do anything about fixing my toenails anyways seeing as I stopped being able to reach my toes a while ago.
"Don't you want me to paint your nails for you? Won't that make you happy?" Taeyong smiled as he looked up at me excitedly,
I had to fight the urge to smack him.
I don't remember the last time I felt genuine happiness. And he's the reason.
Him and this fucking fetus inside me.
He searched my eyes for something before settling with a sigh, "Y/N...I'm trying..."
Try harder.
That's what I wanted to say to him.
His hands moved to clutch mine, lovingly interlacing our fingers together.
"I'm trying really hard to make up for what I've done in the past...But I can't if you won't even speak to me." He trailed, his thumb brushing over my skinny knuckles.
What did he want me to say?
It's okay Taeyong...I forgive you Taeyong for ruining my life.
If that's what he was waiting on me to say he'd die waiting to hear those words from me.
"I'll pick a color for you okay?" He said with a smile.
He squeezed my hand before pulling away to look back at the different colored polishes.
"Hmmm...blue?" He pondered, he turned to wave the sparkly blue polish at me in hopes of a response.
"It's okay if you still don't feel like saying anything. I'll keep trying until you forgive me." He smiled.
Don't bother.
He crossed his legs in front of me, placing my feet in his lap.
He carefully used a cotton ball and nail polish remover to take the paint already there off.
Taeyong continued to make mindless chatter and simple conversation as he removed the paint from my nails, none of which I responded to.
I had gotten so good at training my ears to drown his voice out that it was easy for me to forget that he was even there at times.
That was until my ears caught on to one thing he said.
"What?" I questioned, my voice came out weak and raspy from not being used in a while.
He looked up from my toes to meet my gaze. His eyes doubled in size in shock of hearing my voice for the first time in a while.
"Hm?" He questioned,
"What did you say? Just now?" I questioned, my fists clenching.
He paused momentarily as if trying to remember what he'd just said, "I said..."
"Our family will be so happy, you'll forget about your old one." He said it in such a matter of fact tone, as if it was just a guarantee.
It was so simple and he probably didn’t even mean it in the way that I took it, but I couldn’t fight the anger that started to brew in me.
"Are you crazy?" I spat out, yanking my feet away from him.
"Baby...don't be like that..." Taeyong said trying to reach out for me.
"Stop calling me that! I am not your baby, and we are not a family!" I screamed.
I couldn't stop myself as my fists raised up and I began pummeling them at him in a fit of rage. Taeyong fell back a little, surprised by my sudden attack.
He acted quickly on his feet and grabbed my wrists in his hands and yanked me up from the couch, "Y/N, stop. You're going to hurt the baby if you don't calm down."
"It's not a baby. It's a fucking monster." I hissed.
His face fell into a look of sadness, "Don't say that. That's our baby you're talking about."
I pulled my wrist back out of his grasp and landed a harsh slap to his cheek.
"I hate you. And I hate this baby because of you. It's going to turn out to be a disgusting monster just like you are." I seethed.
"Y/N....please." Taeyong said gently, trying to get me to calm down.
But I had only just started, and I was ready to let my anger take over.
"How dare you say I'll forget about my family? Are you sick in the head? You must be." I spat.
At this point tears started streaming down Taeyong’s cheeks as he soaked in my words.
"Y/N, It's okay... I'll fix this, I'll fix everything so that we can be happy, okay? So that you can forgive me." Taeyong said between pathetic sniffles.
It only made me angrier to see him cry, I should be the one crying. He did this, this is his fault.
"No. Nothing is okay here. I could never be happy with someone like you. I could never love someone like you." I stated firmly.
I watched as Taeyong clenched his jaw, the grip he had on my other wrist tightened.The look on his face slowly morphed from sadness to anger.
"So what now, huh? You want to leave me? You want to leave so you can go back to your family, and your fiance? Is that it?" Taeyong asked with a dry chuckle.
I tensed up at the mention of my fiance.
His words were sharp and dripping with venom as they spilled out past his lips.
"Taeyong-
Before letting me finish Taeyong pulled me over to the door, punching in the code on the keypad before swinging it open.
I was hit by a cold gust of wind as the December air touched my skin.
The thin pajama set I had on did nothing to shield me from the cold weather.
"If you want to leave so bad. Go. See how much your family misses you when they see you're pregnant with my kid." Taeyong said with a twisted smirk.
I looked between him and the door. For the first time in a while I could see directly outside, I could see something other than the four walls I'd grown so used to seeing everyday.
Cars zipped past along the street, people walking along the sidewalk completely oblivious to the horrors taking place inside this house.
This is what I'd been wanting so desperately for months now.
The opportunity was being laid out right in front of me, ready for me to reach out and take it.
My heart was begging for me to run. Begging me to run far away from this wretched place and never look back.
I started to take a step past the threshold of the door before I was stopped by an abrupt kick in my stomach. A painful cramp shot up my spine as the monster inside me kicked a second time.
I couldn't go back home.
Not like this.
I couldn't go back to my family, my fiance, pregnant with my kidnappers child.
I couldn't do this to them.
I won't.
I’d already put them through the pain of losing their daughter, I couldn’t be the reason for my family’s embarassment by coming back pregnant. I had nowhere to go, and I knew I was defeated.
"It's all your fault." I said just above a whisper as I fell to the floor, my knees buckling under my weight.
I couldn't fight the ugly sobs that racked through my body as I thought about how horrible of a situation I was in.
Taeyong looked down at me with what I assumed to be pity before closing the front door.
He turned and squatted down to my level.
"I'm all you've got now, your family won't want you in their lives once they know you're pregnant. So be a smart girl and accept that this is your life now. Me and this baby are your only family now. Understand?" Taeyong questioned as he used his hand to wipe away my tears.
"Fuck you." I hissed in response.
Taeyong snickered, his lips curving up into a devilish grin.
"Soon. I don't want to risk hurting the baby."
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Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Reid Fic)
*MY GIF
Summary: Despite her engagement to someone else, Spencer grapples with the reality that he’s in love with SSA Reader when he sees her in her wedding dress.
A/N: I am so fucking proud of Spencer’s speech that I wrote.
Playlist: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe + FINNEAS This song hurts so good :,)
Category: Fluffy happy ending!
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Content Warning: possible unrequited love, soft angst
Word Count: 6k
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but I had this inexplicable, preternatural ability to detect when we weren’t heading in the right direction - a skill unaffected by even shut eyes or the deepest slumber.
It seems as though after all these years of being (y/n)’s passenger, my body has developed a survival adaptation in order to offer her guidance before she would even have to ask, or worse - lower her pride and admit she’s lost!
With as hard-headed as she is, she’d sooner drive us to Timbuktu before asking me for help.
I was half-asleep when I peeked through one half-lidded eye to observe where we were only to see she blew right by Gregory Boulevard when she should’ve turned left on it.
“Um, you should make a u-turn at this next light,” I gently advised her before returning my head to its previous position perched on my hand. I closed my eyes again with the presumption she would follow my navigation and make a u-turn, but when I didn’t feel the car change course, I opened them to see that she blew right past the stoplight, too.
“Hey, my apartment’s that way.” I gestured behind us while looking at her for the first time, catching a smug look on her face. That’s when I knew I was in for it. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
“You know I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat with partially renewed energy. Her little antics never failed to get my heart racing. I never knew whether to expect a sweet sunset or a sea of snakes when it came to her. She was that polarizing. “Can I at least get a hint?” I egged on, considering she had yet to even reply to my first statement.
She was completely unfazed by my pleading. She didn’t even peel her eyes away from the road - that’s how little attention she thought I deserved. “Mmm depends. What’s the magic word?”
This blatant tease was successfully getting a rise out of me. “Pleaseee,” I dragged out the word as if it would do me any good to let her hear it for longer, but in reality, she just liked to hear me beg.
She took a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, a chupse, to express her displeasure before saying, “Ooh tough luck. The magic word was actually mushroom, but nice try.”
A mirthless chuckle escaped me for willingly falling for her tricks despite knowing she’d pull something just like that. This girl was the bane of my existence, but at least she still rewarded me with a hint anyway.
“Your hint is …” While pondering what hint to give me, her eyes traveled to the side, away from the road long enough to make my heart palpitate in a “if-she-doesn’t-pay-attention-to-the-road, we’re-both-gonna-die” kind of way.
“... something old.”
Again, she tore her eyes away from the road so she could register my reaction, but truthfully, I didn’t have one. I had no idea what that hint meant. Or rather I had too many ideas, far too many to limit to just one.
She could’ve been talking about the age of a location, the history of a place, the vintage appearance of something - virtually anything.
“There’s an infinite amount of possibilities about what that could mean,” I argued. “If you actually want me to guess, you’ll have to give me something more.”
As expected, she was not a fan of my whining and simply rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, stop complaining and use that big brain of yours. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before we even get there.”
Although there was a high probability she was right that I could’ve solved it by myself, it was more enticing to feed off of what she could give me. “What if I ask you ‘yes or no’ questions?”
The gears in her head were turning as she weighed the pros and cons of humoring my offer. “You better ask some good questions then,” was her answer, which was the long way of saying yes.
“Is this ‘something old’ an object?”
She hesitated, then decided on, “No.” So I took that as maybe.
“Is this ‘something old’ a place?”
There was no indecision with this answer. “No.”
“Is this ‘something old’ as in appearance?”
Again, a partial hesitation, but still ultimately a, “No.”
Realizing I pretty much exhausted the tangible, I settled for something more abstract. “Is this ‘something old’ a concept?”
“Yes, you could say that.”
Her answer would prove to be redundant, as just seconds after we would arrive at our mystery destination.
Ellie’s Bridal Boutique.
“Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.” I recited to myself under my breath when I finally unearthed the meaning. The rhyme was a wedding tradition that referred to the things a bride is supposed to wear on her wedding day that’s meant to provide protection and prosperity for the new couple - a superstition.
“Ding! Ding! Ding!” She mimicked the sound of a winning buzzer. “And you are going to be my something old.”
A short chuckle left me as I stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do - wear me?” I jested.
“Well you are a very pretty boy, but I don’t know if you’re pretty enough to wear down the aisle.”
“So then how am I going to be your something old? I’m only two years older than you.”
She stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk to reach for my hand. I’d be lying if I said the chilling warmth of it didn’t make my breath hitch. My eyes fell to where our bodies met, but they rose to look at her again when she finally spoke.
“You’re the very first person I met when I started working in the BAU, which makes you my oldest friend on the team, and since you were the first one that saw me, I wanted you to be the first one that saw me in my dress, too.”
I was already aware that she’d picked out her wedding gown months before, so this appointment couldn’t have been anything more than an alteration update. The only reason I knew that, besides the obvious, was because I could still remember with perfect clarity the morning she came into work after her fitting. She marched right up to my desk to wave a picture of her in the garment right in my face. It wasn’t until I drew back with my head that I could see the image clearly. The dress, while incredibly stunning on her, ‘didn’t fit right’ - her words, not mine.
“But that’s not how it’s actually gonna look on me. I asked them to take in the waist, change the neckline, and alter the length.” She vividly described to me, letting her finger run over the digital photo of the dress as she spoke. “Do you see what I mean?”
I lied when I said, “Yeah, I do,” because really, I didn’t need her to describe the details to me - I could already see the vision. Even if the dress was the wrong color, length, and ‘poofiness,’ I’d still think she’d look lovely.
It was my only hope that her future husband would think so, too.
“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here for my alteration with Reagan at 4.” Just as quickly as she introduced herself to the receptionist, she was being whisked away by an older woman who seemed to have recognized her.
“Oh, (y/n)! It’s so good to see you again! Come, come, your dress is ready. I just know you’ll love it.”
Before she slipped out of my vision completely, (y/n) turned around to address me. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait here.”
I raised my hand in the air to give a short acknowledgment goodbye and followed her instruction to sit in the chair that lied directly in front of a circular raised platform.
“Are you the groom?” A soft voice from beside me suddenly asked. I looked up to see it was the receptionist holding a tray with a glass of champagne.
“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” I denied the alcohol with a shake of my head. “And no, no I’m not. Just an … an old friend.” Again, her words, not mine.
It would come as a surprise to both me and you that with as much as I know about the world, I had no idea how long this would take before I saw her again. With my estimates, it should take maybe fifteen minutes maximum before she walked out in her dress, but who knows? It’s (y/n) after all. She runs on her own clock. The sun rises and sets on her.
At least in my world it does.
By around minute 17, I realized my estimates were way off and there was no way she’d be coming out any time soon, so with all that I could do in that store having been done already, the only thing left for me to do was read. Nothing of quality, though. Just those frivolous bridal magazines on the coffee table beside me. I didn’t even want to think about the germs and bacteria that were harboring on these reading materials, but if it meant it’d cure my boredom then perhaps the contraction of microbes would be worth it.
To say I wasn’t well-versed in fashion would be an understatement and reading the subscriptions only emphasized that further. To put it in perspective, you could style my future bride in a medieval frock and it wouldn’t discourage me whatsoever because I simply have no understanding of what a ‘good’ wedding dress is, therefore, I cannot make an accurate comparison.
Take, for example, the dress on page 17 of Modern Bride. The model was donning a high neck, long sleeve creme satin dress. I thought it looked quite nice and classic, but the excerpt described it as totally out of style and too old - a faux pas.
But when comparing that dress to the gown on page 24 of The Bride’s Guide, I couldn’t spot a single difference between the two, yet this passage was written in complete adoration. “This dress is vintage done right,” said the article. But to me - they were exactly identical! What was wrong with the first one?
Maybe it was a good thing grooms weren’t allowed to help pick wedding dresses because if I had to assist my bride in picking her’s, then, of course, it would be bad luck! I’d probably pick something utterly horrendous!
I had to admit it was slightly humiliating to confront my incompetence relating to wedding dresses, so before my self-esteem plummeted any further, I set the magazines back in their rightful place on the coffee table so they could once again be what they were always intended for - extraneous decor.
With a flick of my watch, I noted the period of waiting had only increased by three minutes. Again, I had yet to master the art of wedding garment fittings, but how was 20 minutes not enough time to put a dress on? However, unlike my better half, I had (relatively) zero problems admitting my ignorance, whereas she’d rather drive us off a cliff or into a lake before letting me know she was lost.
In surrender to my lack of knowledge, I rose from my seat to approach the receptionist and ask if she had a more accurate estimate for how long it would be until I saw (y/n) again. But as it turns out, any estimate she might’ve been able to tell me would’ve been completely wrong for she wouldn’t have even been able to finish her answer before the aforementioned future bride entered the space behind me.
Remember before when I said I had no gauges of good fashion to outrank a medieval frock? Well, I stand corrected.
(Y/n) in her dress is what I will measure everyone against. And no one will ever compare.
“Wow…” The word came out of my mouth before I could think to stop it. My tone was so honest that it scared me. “I’m - You’re …” I was at a total loss for words that I had to sit back down to hopefully regain some clarity. She laughed at my stupidity with a laugh so gentle, I couldn’t not laugh back.
“That good, huh?”
I wordlessly nodded while my mouth lied openly in waiting. But the right words never came out; there just weren’t any that could capture this vision of perfection in front of me.
My mannerisms had clearly already given away the true level of my admiration, so in an effort to lessen the enormity of my obvious wonderment, I reluctantly broke my gaze away from the angel in white and picked up a magazine on the table to perfect the notion of nonchalance.
“You look . . .” She impatiently waited for my addition, even doing the most adorable little twirl in her dress to give me the full view in the meantime. “Nice,” was the adjective I settled for, as it was such a thoughtless response that perhaps it would convince her that there weren’t a million thoughts on my mind. The most recurring one, and arguably the most troubling one being: I think I’m in love with you.
“Nice?” She repeated like the word stung her tongue, more out of mock offense than earnest disappointment. “You’re reading your magazine upside down so it’s gotta be better than nice.”
I bashfully looked down to find that, sure enough, her words were true. The magazine was upside down and therefore a total revelation of just how ‘nice’ I really thought she looked.
I tried to hide my smile behind my knuckles as I pressed a fist to my lips, deciding on the most sincere compliment I could give her.
“Nobody holds a candle to you, (y/n),” I nodded in affirmation. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
After saying so, I nonchalantly - well as nonchalantly as one could when caught slack-jawed and completely in awe - reoriented the catalog. Had I glanced up even a second later, I might not have caught her reaction to my words and the way they made her smile uncontrollably. I looked back down at the magazine with a smirk, giving it a brief flick to open up the pages all the way to me and parrot the motions one would make if they were actually reading.
We both knew I wasn’t though.
It seemed I never left that wedding boutique because even as we arrived outside my apartment later that day, my mind was still there, stuck on the future bride in her gown.
“Earth to Spencer!” She waved her hand in front of me to grab my attention despite already having it. “We’re here!” She announced. Who was I kidding? She always had my attention. I only wish it didn’t take me this long to realize that the reason she was constantly at the front of my mind was that I loved her.
Nearly about to exit the car, the millionth and one thought rang in my head like a bell - wedding bells, if you will.
Speak now or forever hold your peace.
At a tantalizingly slow speed, I released the doorknob and turned back towards her.
“...I love you.”
She furrowed her brows and shrugged with her mouth, forming a confused pout. “I love you, too, Reid?” She kind of laughed when she said it, so I knew she thought this was just a friend sending off a friend goodbye, but I couldn’t let her think that’s what I meant.
“No, not like that.” I clarified with the utmost candor. “I’m in love with you.” I shook my head when I said it which, in any other context, might make you think I was lying, but the shake of my head was merely the physical manifestation of every bone in my body knowing I shouldn’t be saying this, but my heart still having the audacity to do it anyway.
I confessed with that brutally honest tone again, the one so raw and vulnerable it leaves you nauseous and breathless all at once as you anxiously anticipate the other person’s response to your vulnerability. But I couldn’t even meet her eyes, I was too scared. Even if I had, they would’ve been vacant. Her spirit had vanished from her body, and in its departure left just the shell of a woman who was completely void of color. Her flushed face was a remnant of the shock that paralyzed her and it wouldn’t disappear even as I tried to bring her color back.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I wish I had better timing - trust me, I will beat myself up later for not saying it sooner. But I promise you, I am not trying to ruin things between you two and I would never actually try to stand in the way of your wedding - you have to believe me. I want you to be happy and if he’s what makes you happy, then I will live with that. I just had to tell you now because ... if you married him without ever knowing how I felt, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”
This was true - I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t said anything - but now that I have - will she be able to forgive me?
Vacant stares turned into piercing glares that drove, what felt like, a thousand daggers right through my heart. She was looking at me as though I were a stranger - completely unrecognizable to her.
(Y/n), it’s me. It’s Spencer. Don’t you remember me? My heart pleaded. I’m still the same guy I was before. I’m the first friend you made on the team, remember? I’m your something old. Please, please remember me.
By the time I came to the woeful conclusion that she wouldn’t reply, at least not now, there was only one question weighing on my heart heavily enough to make me ask it before I left her car.
“Would it have been better if I didn’t tell you?”
My question stayed answerless even as I lingered at the door after getting out, waiting for one. I knew I should’ve closed it, but I couldn’t. In many ways, it would’ve been shutting the only open vessel to her, formally closing myself off from our friendship. The possibility of losing her as soon as I walked away was too real, and I wasn’t ready yet.
“Please, (y/n), talk to me.” It was a trending theme to have every word I spoke be underlined by this profound piteousness. “Say something.” Say anything.
“I ... I need to get home,” She quietly whimpered, practically begging me to let her go. Up until then, I didn’t want to, but I suddenly wished I had shut the door sooner so that I might not have had to hear the quiet addition, “To my fiancé.”
The color she was so void of in her face? It seems I must have recompensed, for not only was I crowned her something old that day, but I was also her something blue.
_ _ _
If there were a guidebook on all the things to do as the love of your life’s wedding (to someone else) nears, I’d like to think I was following all the protocol.
Since my not-so-subtle confession, I had yet to press the subject or force her for an answer to my final question, which I think she was thankful for. I also hadn’t plotted a giant scheme to ruin the wedding, nor did I have any intentions of doing so.
For all intents and purposes, I was acting as a gentleman (who’s in love with you but whom you’re not marrying) ideally should.
You would think that after my big declaration, (y/n) would do everything in her power to avoid me. It’s what I would’ve done. But she’s no coward. That exact heart of gold I fell in love with made no exceptions. Because even after what I did, she still had it in her to extend her kindness to me.
She’s stubborn like that, remember?
And though she was showering me with a treatment I didn’t deserve, it still wasn’t enough for my greedy heart.
The true pain lied in the pretending. Every day I would have to come to work and talk with her and laugh with her and smile with her - I would have to be her friend … pretending that was all that I wanted and nothing more.
It was both a blessing and a curse that she was acting just as she always had with me. It may seem weird to have expected, nay - wanted - a different reaction from her, but I just wanted something. At least, if she was angry, then I would know what I said had some effect on her, but she was just so indifferent. Like what I said didn’t matter.
It’s been said that there is a thin line between love and hatred. Hate and love both seem to be involved in the neural processing of what is sometimes referred to as the arousal effect of emotion - this is a technical term, so arousal can be negative. Scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love – although love and hate appear to be polar opposites. Therefore, the same brain circuitry is involved in both extreme emotions. So, as strange as it may sound, if she didn’t love me, then I at least wanted her to hate me, just so I’d know she had any passion for me that matched my burning passion for her.
But as it turns out, she would never go on to display signs of hatred or love, for she never acted passive-aggressively, never gave me the silent treatment - nothing. Nope, she just acted as if it never happened. She went on with her life, essentially expecting me to do the same, but how could I carry on with life while she was still carrying half of my heart with her?
It’s an impossible feat, that - to walk around with half a heart. And it’s one that has not gotten easier with time. If anything, time has made it worse, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more difficult it became for me to hold back. And with this exponential growth, it was only inevitable that the pinnacle of difficulty came right before the wedding.
Before shit hit the fan, she arranged, or rather insisted, that I give a speech at the dinner rehearsal. That hadn’t changed, despite almost everything else having done so. Up until the minute I arrived at the venue, I could’ve recited that speech a million times, forwards and backwards, in my sleep, or even in Russian. But I lost any ability to form coherent thoughts from the second I laid eyes on her.
As soon as I opened the door, she stood at the entrance to greet her guests, having taken a radiant form that I could only imagine would not pale in comparison to what she would look like tomorrow on her actual wedding day. That thought alone scared me shitless.
If this is how beautiful she looked tonight and it was only just the rehearsal, how would I ever be able to resist her less than 24 hours from now when she would be marrying a man I could only dream of being half so lucky as?
“Spencer!” Familiar crinkles formed around her eyes as a result of her gigantic smile when she saw me and hugged me thereafter. Her embrace was strangely tighter and lasted for longer than usual, not that I was complaining, but I had to wonder if she was compensating for something. What’s that saying - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Was she killing me with kindness? That might’ve been wishful thinking though. Because the same flash of indifference I’d been dealt in recent times came back into her face and tone after hugging me. “You’re at table five with the rest of the team.”
“Oh, thanks.”
That was it? Just a ‘Spencer!’ and then a nudge in the direction of my seat? No questions about my speech? No threatening comments to not say anything that would ruin the charade we’d been playing for months now? Had she forgotten I was even giving a speech?
“Oh, wait, Spencer!” I felt her hand on my shoulder before I heard her voice. “You left this in my car a couple months ago. I’ve been meaning to give it back to you, but I didn’t remember until today.”
The first thing that raised a red flag was what she was saying. I’d left something in her car? That would imply that I’d forgotten something, and we both knew that wasn’t possible. But the second suspicious element was the matter of what she claimed I’d left behind. She was handing me a book with the back cover facing me. From the looks of it alone, it wasn’t mine. Clearly, it wasn’t mine. I knew every single book that resides on my shelves and this one has never once crossed them. That, on top of the new book smell and the lack of a wear in the spine, was enough to tell me that not only was this a book I’d never read nor was one to grace my bookshelf, but it was most certainly not one I would have left behind.
She was lying.
She saw the realization dawn on me, but knowing I would mention it, her hand’s grip around my wrist, which I hadn’t noticed was even there in the first place, tightened, sending me a message.
She knew I saw the deception. There were so many flaws in what she was saying, that she couldn’t have possibly been clueless of them. It was too easy. Or maybe that was by design. She wanted me to figure out it was a lie. But why?
What was she hiding?
The final thing to leave me when she did was her hand. In its place, it had left a a near perfect indentation in my sleeve. How flawlessly it sculpted to her hand told me just how tightly she was holding me. What was she trying to say?
That’s when I flipped the book over to see the cover.
Can Love Happen Twice?
And right on the inside cover page was scribbled - in a handwriting so distinctive it could only belong to one person and one person alone - “Yes.”
_ _ _
My heart was racing the entire night as I anxiously awaited for the moment to give my speech. Nothing seemed to ease the tension. Not a sip of water, not the loosening of my tie, not the self-soothing bouncing of my leg. But all it took, all it took was one glance from her and suddenly, the storm within me had settled.
“Next up we have a speech from Spencer Reid!”
I rose from my seat like a floundering mess, as to be expected, because how can you possibly catch your bearings as you’re about to make a speech to a room full of people?
“H-hi there. I’m Dr. Spen- I’m Spencer Reid. I’ve worked with (y/n) for several years now and - and so I, um, I wrote this speech for her, so, so I’m gonna read it to you all now,” My stammering had gotten the best of me, so before I could unravel into the mess I surely came off as right about now, I spun from my previous position facing the majority to facing only her. I needed to see her. I needed the reprieve of her eyes again, and she was happy to give it to me.
“(Y/n), from the moment I met you, I thought who is she? And I mean that quite literally because I had no idea who you were and why you were there,” Laughter from the crowd erupted, but her laugh was the only one that mattered to me. “But also because there was just something about you that told me I needed to talk to you. I had no idea what that instinct to strike up a conversation with you would lead to, but I trust my gut a little more now because that very intuition gave me one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”
To my words, an endeared pout formed on her face. She was touched, and I was glad.
“Over the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years we’ve spent together, I have enjoyed every single measure of time with you. You have taught me more about life and myself than I could have ever learned otherwise - which says a lot,” This once again brought her to laughter. “So I thank you for that, because without you, there would be no one to tell my campfire stories to, there would be no one who could recite Jung or Freud with me, and there would be no one I’d have to correct when they drive down the wrong path,” My own chuckle cut my sentence short.
“Life with you has simply been made better, and my only hope is that tomorrow, as you get married, you too, will experience that eternal bliss with which you have surely bestowed upon everyone who has had the privilege of knowing you.”
By now both of us were on the verge of tears, hers more apparent than mine as she used the palm of her hand to stifle her sniffles.
“There is so much more I could say about how great you are, but your favorite author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, has said it best. ‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful’,” A tear ran down her cheek as my own eyes welled up beyond their means. “So to you both - may you have a life as beautiful as the bride.”
Even if that life isn’t with me.
I tuned out all the clapping and cheering, and set my focus solely on her, giving me full liberty to see the way she rose from her chair and escaped the room. Not even shock could paralyze me or stop me from running after her. I sprung so fast into action, which required the maximum amount adrenaline, although I could not credit my speed to the rush, but it was more the exclusive motivation to find her that powered me. The entire time I kept calling out her name as I frantically chased her out of the venue.
“Spencer.”
I didn’t even see her there at first, probably because I was half-expecting her to be jumping into a cab or running away from me some more when I found her, but just as before, she made it too easy for me. She was waiting for me, standing there in no spectacular fashion.
The wind was blowing strands of hair in her face that were not so large so that I couldn’t see the red rings around her eyes that were caused by the irritation and formation of tears. She was simply staring back at me with this look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something.
In the silence, I could still appreciate how astonishingly gorgeous she was. How badly I wanted her. I would’ve whisked her away and taken her as mine if I knew it would make her happy. But that’s just it - I didn’t know.
I needed her to say it. So say it.
Say it, darling.
Spoken through a congested voice (which spoke volumes in reality because of the mere revelation that she was indeed crying) was the plainest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she vanished back into the restaurant, leaving me to my devices on the sidewalk.
She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to.
_ _ _
Perhaps the false confidence in my speech or what little she had to say to me after it or even the hidden message in the book got to my head, but whatever it was, I was feeling suspiciously alright. Luckily, that feeling didn’t deviate even as I made my way to the church.
Upon arrival, everything seemed exactly as it should be, so consequently the lack of something out of place did not adequately denote what lied just beyond those doors. Or should I say what didn’t?
Much to my mortification, it was a completely empty church. Every pew, though decorated for a wedding, was uninhabited and showed no indications of having been such recently. As I walked further in, the door automatically shut behind me with a loud bang. It would’ve shocked me more had something else not caught my attention already.
It was (y/n), standing at the altar … completely alone.
Suddenly, it felt like I’d been drawn in by this invisible gravity, which was now floating me down the aisle. My feet could not carry me to her fast enough.
I was sure this was some kind of dream simply by the way the light gleamed through the stained glass windows, casting banners of golden luminescence on her. It was as if heaven itself had come down with the specific delegation to illuminate the vision of one of its fallen angels.
“(Y/n)?” My voice reverberated throughout the chapel, ricocheting off the high, painted ceilings and back to me. “Where is everyone?”
It wasn’t until I reached a certain point in the middle aisle, that I realized her veil had been covering her face this entire time. The angel in white only turned more heavenly when she flipped the veil backward, revealing herself to me.
It took her a moment to answer, but it was her head that answered first before her mouth did. She began shaking her head slowly, followed by a short, unequivocal, “No.”
As you might imagine, I was dumbfounded. “No?” That answer wouldn’t have made sense in the context of what I had previously asked.
“No.” She repeated, with somehow even more definitiveness. I decided it was best to stay silent and wait for her explanation.
“No, it wouldn’t have been better if you didn’t tell me.”
There was my answer I’d been searching for.
“God, Spencer - what took you so long?”
From the breathlessness and the rushed cadence of her voice, I knew precisely what was coming next. She instantaneously abandoned the bouquet she’d been clutching in favor of her hands’ ability to pull me in. The pressure on my fragile skull when our frenzied lips finally met was not a punishment so much as it was a reward. And just as we began to find our rhythm, I slid my hand into her hair, which I began to regret when I realized just how much time and effort probably went into its structuring. I pulled away the moment I felt a carefully placed pin lodged within her hair slip between my fingers.
True, for a moment I was unable to open my eyes afterward from the sheer elation I was experiencing, but as I came to, I found myself looking at the hairpin I’d accidentally extracted from her curls, one that I could’ve sworn I’d seen a fellow coworker of ours donning in the past.
“Is this -”
“Yep, it’s Penelope’s.” She admitted through the most debonair giggles. After giving her a quizzical, and only partially judgmental glance, she managed to blurt out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It was my ‘something borrowed’!”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid kiss#criminal minds#juniorgman187#something borrowed something blue
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Mᴏʀɴɪɴɢ Lɪɢʜᴛ
Word Count: 2061
“The Sun card represents radiance. Like the sun itself, it gives strength and vitality to all those that are lucky enough to feel its rays. There is much joy and happiness that is coming to you. On the other hand, the Sun reversed might be indicative that you are being unrealistic. It might be a sign that you have an overly optimistic perception of certain situations. Be warned, for when the sun ceases to shine on you, depression is soon to follow.” - ‘The Sun’ Tarot Card; Full Meaning.
Tap Tap Tap.
How early was it? Too early. You knew you had training today, but you were certain that wasn’t for another few hours. So what was that insufferable tapping for?
Tap... Tap Tap.
You shift against your pillow. You can feel your hair stick against your neck, in sync with the tightening fist by your face. Your eyes do open, slowly but surely. You feel groggy, despite the growing alertness inside of you. You’re waking up. What’s more, you’re waking up before you really have to.
Tap... Tap.
Your sleepy eyes search around the room. Behind the glass of the window, you can make out a blurry image of yellow and pale skin. Still, you’re exhausted. It could be a silly little trick pulled by your own brain. But on the off chance that it is-
Annie.
You sit up. Your vision is still smeared like oil, but you stumble out of bed. Your heel skims against the wood of the floor. It probably gave you a splinter, but now that you’ve started thinking about her, you know it’d be difficult to stop.
You partially hop to the window across from your bed. Your right hand reaches out to unlatch the thing, while the left rubs at your eyes to get the gift of clear sight. As you turn the wood to the right to unlock it, you step back and away.
The blond handles the rest. Her palms slip under the window and pull it up, and then she pushes herself through. She brushes the clear white curtains to the side and lands on the floor, just as your vision returns to you.
She’s wearing her favorite white sweatshirt, and standard brown slacks. There’s ODM gear at her hips, complete with all the strappings and buckles. But her face... oh, her face. Despite the time apart, it’s the same one you’d fallen in love with. The big, still blue eyes were gazing at the wood she landed on. Her pale blond hair is pulled back in the usual bun, her bangs hanging loose as always. But her lips look shinier today. Perhaps she tried the new lip tint you’d bought the last time you’d gone shopping.
“Annie,” you sighed with a soft smile. Any kind of stress you’d been feeling in the past few weeks without her was fading away, at long last. You knew she’d see you again soon, but you hadn’t realized she’d pick today. She must’ve wanted to surprise you.
Annie’s right hand reaches up to rub the back of her neck. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be up yet.” The girl looks your form up and down. “Or dressed.”
One of your feet rubs against the opposite shin. She’s not wrong. You’re wearing an oversized white shirt and cheap underwear that she can’t even see. Your hair is a mess, your eyes groggy, and your breath making your own throat want to gag. But you’re overwhelmed with happiness to finally see her again.
“Yes you did,” you challenge firmly, but tiredly.
Annie’s eyes soften. You’re right. She could picture your tired form in her head long before she’d even set out to surprise you. That and the fact that she’d purposely arrived before the morning chimes.
“Whatever,” you wave off. You step towards her, your heart reaching out to hers. Her chest is like a magnet to your own.
Your arms stretch out to embrace her. And you do. Tugging her to you, you feel her warmth. Her chest and neck flushed against yours, feeling your heartbeats fall into sync. Annie smells so good. She always has, but it must be that body wash the Military Police get to use.
Annie is everything to you. The attraction was immediate, and the build up of trust came naturally over time. Despite the two introverted natures, you spent time together. You ate silent dinners, went through the motions of the days with each other. You taught Annie more about life and perspective more than she cared to admit, and in turn, she had made you feel more confident in your own character. It became fact among the cadets that where either you or Annie was found, the other was never far behind.
And then, sometime in the midst of it all, the dynamic changed.
Your faces got closer when you pinned the other down during sparring. You’d share your food from the same spoon when there wasn’t enough. Even begun sharing the same shower. You’d always thought Annie was attractive, but now the attraction was rapidly becoming a solid, almost tangible force.
The heat radiating between the two of you was undeniable. One night, in the top bunk of your barracks, she crept into your bed and shared a kiss. It was wet and sloppy, but you were close to her. You didn’t care about the lack of experience from either of you. Annie mattered to you. You wanted to be with her, and apparently she felt the same.
Things were never made official by title, but you were even more inseparable than before. You’d witnessed her threaten Reiner for both hitting on you and insulting you on separate occasions. You judo flipped a boy for getting handsy with her. You went to winter markets, stargazed, and spent late nights sparring ending in clumsy make-out sessions. You loved her. You’d do anything for her. You’d already made a nonverbal promise to each other that you’d grow and mature together. What more could you ask for?
“I really missed you,” you admit, taking her in as much as you can. Annie sinks into your touch, closing her eyes in affection.
“Yeah,” she replies, which is her own way of letting it slip that she missed you too. Both her hands come to rest under your elbows, effectively keeping them in place around her. Pft, as if you were going to remove them for longer than a split second anyway.
“So,” you drawl as you saunter back to your bed. You collapse on it, rubbing the space next to you as a call for Annie. “Tell me what I’ve been missing. The MP’s still treating you alright?”
Annie shifts and averts her eyes in thought. Then she follows your lead, sitting on the edge of the bed as she starts to unbuckle her harnesses. “It’s the same,” she tells you.
“I know you don’t like them, Ann. You don’t have to pretend.”
And with anybody else, Annie would’ve been quick to annoyance. But with you, she was glad. Even though she definitely didn’t tell you the truth about everything, she knew she could still be herself around you. She knew you could sense she kept some secrets from you still, but you’d never forced the issue. Everything about your love was focused on understanding. It was more than the girl thought she deserved.
“What about the Scouts?” Annie decides in return. It’s a tactic at changing the subject, and one that doesn’t slip past you. Still, you don’t push.
“Just as annoying as we thought. I have to officially get up and at ‘em in a few hours.”
Your lover unties her boots. “Have you been outside the wall yet?”
She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear you say your piece anyway.
“No,” you sigh. Your hand rests on your forehead, your elbow bent as you stare up at the ceiling. “We have our first expedition this week. We’re taking Jaeger out to try the Commander’s new strategy.”
Annie freezes. Then she continues her movement. “Right. I’d almost forgotten Eren was here.”
You doubted that. “The bastard talked about the Scouts non stop back in cadet training,” you say as Annie twists around to face you. “You sure you didn’t hit your head on the way over here?”
Annie doesn’t answer. But she does gift a hint of a smile. It’s gone in a flash, but it’s more than others get.
Her ice blue eyes pierce into yours. It’s not threatening, however. It’s loving. Appreciating. She’s trying to memorize all the details inside of them like she’s about to do so for the last time.
Then Annie lowers head head slowly, until it rests by the crook of your neck.
“You got up early to see me today,” you say softly.
Your love shifts off of you, and props her up on her elbow at her side. You mirror her movements to observe her as well.
“I skinned my knee climbing from my barracks. My gear was giving me trouble.”
Some people may have expressed concern, but you knew your other half was strong. She didn’t need your pity. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have done that,” you shrug with snark back.
“Heh, thanks,” she responds, looking down to stare at your white cotton sheets.
There is quiet. The sunlight illuminates her hair. Her long eyelashes flutter up and down slowly. Annie is beautiful. No. Annie surpasses the boundaries of being beautiful.
“Y/N,” she whispers. “Would you love me, if I were evil?”
What?
“What did you say?”
Silence. Annie doesn’t look at you. She seems solemn, troubled. Haunted, even. No, not quite haunted. Maybe just hollow.
“Nothing,” Annie says decidedly. “I’m just muttering.”
You frown anyway. You know that Annie is weighed down by things that you can’t explain, or understand. It’s different from other soldiers, or just other people. But you didn’t think there was anything she could do to be evil. You had already shown and told her that you were in love with her. You wouldn’t go back on that if you even could.
Annie was your world. Your lion. Your entire purpose for even making it this far.
One of your hands reaches out to brush her fringe behind her ear. “I’d always be on your side,” you tell her softly. “There’s nothing you could do to change that.”
You’d be surprised, thought Annie.
“I didn’t mean to be depressing,” she mutters further. “I was looking forward to seeing you again.”
Annie is sad today.
Both of your arms wrap around her slim figure. You pull her close to you, so her head is between your chest and your neck. Both your bodies cradle against each other as you stroke the soft strands of yellow hair. The sun is seeping through the windows for only a passing moment, before it is covered by a blanket of grey clouds.
“Let’s go back to sleep,” you whisper to her, your eyes transfixed on the drops of rain hitting the roof one by one.
“I am sorry,” you hear her speak against your shirt.
You pull away, your palms against her cheeks so you can look at her stunning face. “Don’t ever apologize to me, Annie.” What more can you say to reassure her? “I’m with you.”
Annie is heartbroken inside. Maybe it was better that she didn’t say anything. Or maybe it was better in another timeline, where you knew. But Annie kept her mouth shut and tried to just relax her nerves. There was no reason to wake up feeling as guilty as she had. She was with you now. You would protect her against the nightmares with her father, or Reiner. Nothing to be afraid of.
“After this,” Annie says as you coax her head back against your body. “I’ll buy you one of those breakfast sweets you like so much. From the village.”
The rain taps against your window. The sun has all but disappeared by now. Surely the open window mixed with sheets of light rain will result in a damp floor, but there’s no way in hell either of you are going to get up and close it now. Instead you watch the water fall, thinking about how the shade of the sun matches that of your lovers mane.
.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.
I wrote this really fast. I just really love Annie and wanted to give her some appreciation. A weak plot, but oh well.
#annie leonhardt#annie leonhart x reader#annie leonhardt x reader#annie leonhart imagine#annie leonhart imagines#annie leonhardt imagine#annie leonhardt imagines#attack on titan x reader#annie leonhardt fanfiction#fanfiction#attack on titan fanfiction#aot fanfic#aot fanfiction#fem reader#annie x reader#annie x fem reader#annie imagines
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