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cynettic · 3 years

Note

I just read Kitsune reader x yan Scaramouche's fic, may I have gotten hooked on it? and of course, it's just perfect and that's why I'm here to lose a part two with nsfw, thank you in advance and understand if you refuse:3

Link to Part 1

Summary - Taking you captive, Scaramouche continues to see you as a pillar of support. Coming back home to have you there, always. Even if it meant chaining you up.

Pairings - F!Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Smut, slight noncon ( I tried to make it as consensual as possible but its difficult with yandere themes ), fingering, electricity play

Rating - NSFW

Penpal - Ahhh I'm actually beginning to get attached to this series, might end up writing a couple more posts with different hc and stuff. I hope you liked the post though, have a great day <3

A/N - The literal definition of the ‘stoic cruel boy who’s mean to everyone but you.’ Oh well, Scaramouche is ooc af, but I did change a few things in his backstory so its supposed to make sense for this story ;) Also- since we dont know Scaramouche’s actual name, I have the reader still… yknow, call him Scaramouche. Which is kinda weird cause its his harbinger name but oh well. Also, credit to @cycletr4in for proofreading it ;3

Taglist - @cursedraiden

Stay with Me pt.2

Scaramouche was a gentle captor.

In contrast to piercing eyes and harsh stares when it came to others, he had a soft spot for you. Like the ice that encased him whole melted at your touch, craving for the warmth only you could give him. For your arms around him, to play pretend and imagine he were a child, free, fearless, unbound. A child in your arms, safe and protected.

But you were held hostage, which meant that the chains around your wrists and legs held you down and secured you. Like you were bound to one spot like you’d always been, except this time you didn't have a choice.

You weren't waiting for the Kitsune Saiguu.

Hell, you didn't even have your vision.

This brought on resentment for the dark haired boy. You hated him, you despised him for holding you down under his own judgment. But at the same time, all you saw in him was a child, a little kid who hadn't had the time to grow up. The one who refused to do so because it was his only way to survive in the type of world he lived in. Hide behind that same facade he developed as a kid, snide remarks and unrelenting cruelty.

Just to come back to your arms, sobbing because he was still that child. Sobbing because he was still hurt. Sobbing because you were still his beacon of light, of hope.

He depended on you.

And as much as you built up harsh words to use against him, they dissolved in your mouth when you saw him. His vulnerability that he saved for you and you only. A deep part of you cared for him, a little too much.

Gentle fingers brushed through the locks of Scaramouche’s hair, twirling it around and playing with the strands. It was smooth, a small detail no one would have the chance to notice from the distance he put around himself and others. A quiet hum left his lips as he leaned against your chest, eyes fluttering closed against the soothing feeling of you against him.

The lavish silk sheets were soft against your skin, pillow pushing your form to sit up. Just enough to have Scaramouche in your arms, knees on either side of his body as his head rested under your chin. His chest rose and descended, almost on beat with yours, if not just a tad slower.

You hoped he wouldn't hear the way your heart thrummed against your chest.

Warmth, his body flushed against yours, the luxury of a bed and the small candlelight on your bedside. Different from what you’d grown into just on the side of the trail, sitting for decades. Or with your time with the Kitsune Saiguu, it was never this warm, never this gentle.

But this warmth ended at your beating heart, furiously blazing. Sending an urge of adrenaline through your body, whispering ‘run’ through your veins. A primal urge that would've had your hands around Scaramouche’s neck, till he was wrangling and dead.

Till you could escape.

Hand slowly sliding down his jawline, you let your gentle fingers ghost along the soft skin of his neck. Claws outstretched and ready, sharp and pointed with a deadly intent to kill. You could end him so quickly, overturn his trust and make an escape. You deserved it, you deserved freedom. Not a delusional boy who thought himself protector against someone who’s lived decades more than him.

Jolting at the sensation of a soft grip on your wrist, you watched with idle fascination as he simply cupped your wrist in his hold. Not stopping you, not restraining you, he simply brought your hand to his face. To his lips where he pressed the softest of kisses into your palm. So heartfelt and genuine that all you could do was freeze, not even considering clawing his face.

“I love you.”

You both stayed in that position for a few moments more, silence cradling the tension that slowly dissipated from your body. Forlorn eyes watching as he shift the angle of your wrist to kiss your fingertips. He wasn't waiting for an answer, basking in these soft moments where he could hide in your hold. Like a child, forced to grow up too quickly, yearning back for his foolish naivety, yearning for the childhood he missed.

You were that childhood.

Which is why he clung to you so dearly, showed expressions he didnt know he could make, hold you captive under the impression that it was ‘right.’ What he was doing was okay.

Claws retracted, you pursued your lips, holding back the tears of frustration that burned at your eyes. You hated him, hated him for the chains on your wrists, for the disappearance of your vision that you’d given so much value to. Hated him for the warmth he still made you feel.

You hated him.

You felt like a housewife in some respects. Not with the cleaning and cooking part, and of course no children were part of the equation. But in terms of support, you stayed rooted to that room, loose chains too strong for you to break or tug holding you down. Window was too far, and you were stuck moving around the bed and the desk that sat just a little farther away.

Attempts at having your vision back or more freedom in movement had been discussed with Scaramouche, but as childlike and free as he acted with you, he was not an idiot.

“I don’t plan on underestimating you,” was his answer, head resting on the plush of your chest. “You’re strong, always were. But I have to take extremes to make sure you don’t get hurt, some people out there are stronger than you.”

You wanted to point out that there were a ton of people stronger than him as well, but you kept your mouth shut. “Can I at least see the house? I’ve been cooped up here for so long…”

And he cant say no to such an innocent request as that right?

So he unlocks the chains, the vision at his side reminding you that he was strong. You solely knew that he’d been tough as a kid, and under the intensive training he’d seemed to endure, he was much much stronger. You werent willing to give it a go and lose his trust just yet.

Not like he really trusted you anyways-

At the very least, you’d hoped to get some sort of blueprint of the house, and all you’d received was confusion and your mind making up that the house itself was a maze.

“Didnt we… just pass through here?”

Glancing at the obvious frustration on your face, Scaramouche chuckled, pulling your arm through the hallways you swear you’d seen three times prior. “Nope, most of the hallways look pretty similar. The house wasn't built for dumbasses.”

You flashed him a look and were about to make some snideish rebuttal before you saw the smirk. You knew what he was doing, trying to comfort you with casual arguments you both used to have. Consisting of you telling him to work on his people skills, and him calling you a lazy ass. Of course you missed it, but you also knew you couldn't go back to it.

And then there was the issue when you learned that he was a harbinger.

A scene you didnt want to replay in your head, when a maid burst into your room, Scaramouche acting a tad more intimate. He had an awful tendency to do that, hug your waist and press his face against the crook of your neck. Press gentle kisses down the length of your shoulder that had you shuddering. You weren't used to intimacy, and considering you’d watched him grow up, it was just weird.

Stuttering, the maid had demanded that he was requested by the Tsarista. You’d seen the fear in her eyes when Scaramouche slowly turned to her, seen the unshakable immobility of standing under his gaze.

“Do not enter.” He said, “It’s on the door.”

That was the first time you’d seen Scaramouche kill.

You hoped it’d be the last.

But you’d seen death before, so much death in the time of the Kitsune Saiguu. And for a few seconds, you found yourself fearless as you yanked against the chains, yelling at his figure at the doorway.

“Tsarista?” You snarled, standing just a few feet away from him. His hand on the girls neck, clenching around the pretty skin of hers. Disgusted, the chains that held you back from closing the gap and throwing the girl away from him were impossible to overcome. “Why the hell does she need you?!”

‘Let go,’ you wanted to say. ‘Let her go, she’s going to die.’

It worked, because the ironclad grip was gone, the maid tumbling to the ground lifelessly. You’d been too late, and now her blood was on his hands, your hands. This was your fault and you had half the self control not to thrash against the chains with sharp claws, hands on his neck.

The hard steel gaze vanished in an instant, and like he’d regained his senses, he took a few steps to you. Hands clenching to fists before loosening to fingertips brushing against his palms. Confusion, regret and guilt clouded his features like a child waiting to be reprimanded. You didn't back away, stood firm and fierce when standing and keeping a tough front.

You wanted to cry.

“Its… its a long story.” He finally stated to your question, and when you didnt budge, he took a deep breath. In control again, he closed the distance between the two of you, “I’m sorry.” And that same thrum of electricity jolted through your body, sending you into a spiral of the girls lifeless eyes and Scaramouche’s childlike eyes. Till everything went black.

You woke up with the body gone. Scaramouche was gone as well.

You learned that Scaramouche liked to have things his way. Which meant that he was always in control, always had control of every situation.

Even in those short stretches of vulnerability when he rested in your arms, he still held something over you. And you had to adapt, shift for his wishes, coddle him and stay as his beacon. Because he was stronger, and even if you’d find some way to escape, he would find you.

It was odd, and you slowly let go of the image of him as a child, you knew he was a lot older. He’d probably reached the age your body was stuck in, and with every sweet kiss he pressed to your lips, you knew he saw you as some sort of lover. But as someone who wasn't in control, you simply had to play along, just until you found some way to make your escape.

Without killing him.

_-_-_-_-_

“Strip.”

Laying on one side of the bed, your eyes jolted open at the commanding voice. Slowly, you sat up, eyeing the dim figure at the doorway. Without the help of a candle or the moonlight at the window, you could distinguish Scaramouche at the doorway, taking off the large headpiece as he flung it to the ground.

“Excuse me…?” Your voice was soft, rusty after an evening nap.

“I’ll make you feel good,” was his only answer. Slowly making his way to the bedside till he could properly face you. His eyes were soft, but there was an odd sort of determination that you hadnt seen before. You held back his stare, confusion lacing your features when he suddenly started pulling off loose decorations that hung on his clothes. Just till he unlaced the vest and slid off his shirt. “Don’t worry.” But you didnt know quite what he meant until he leaned further to you, catching you off guard.

So you yelped when his hands suddenly slammed down on your shoulders, shifting you to have access to the buttons of your top layer. He was quick when undoing them, simply swatting away at your hands when you protested and tried to pull him away. Throwing it to the edge of the room when he was done, you could only thrash in horror when he undid your trousers just as quickly, pulling them down before you could grab them back up.

“Scaramouche? Hey-”

And then he threw you down on the bed, exposing you in your undergarments in the cool air of the room. Shivers crept up your spine and bristled across your skin, and before you could curl up to at the very least hide away, you felt a tug at your chains. Fear finally settled in when you saw Scaramouche attach the chain to the bedpost, until your hand was lifted up and he began to do the same to the other.

“Wait wait wait, stop and explain what you’re-”

Only then did he pause from what he was doing, slowly looking down to properly face you. His eyes slid up and down your body, and he took a step towards you. “I’ll make you feel good,” were his only words, and you were forced to take them as all he was planning on giving you. Only when he sat on the bed next to you did you realize what he meant, hand settling on your shoulder, waiting.

“Alright,” you said slowly. Painfully, the words bit your tongue, but you were merciless against someone who had control against the situation. You could say no and you knew Scaramouche would stop, he was gentle to you and you only. And even if he’d been firm just before, you knew that he’d still stop if you asked him to.

A part of you felt thrilled to have that power over him.

Another part of you just wanted to escape.

But you didnt have any hope to do so unless you were willing too give him everything. Because he expected everything and would do anything in his power to obtain it. You’d let him fiddle around with this delusion, thinking that he had control. Until he didnt.

Which is why you didnt flinch when his hand gently slid up your stomach, cold against the warmth you’d had under the blankets. Rubbing gingerly against your skin and drawing smooth shapes over before he slowly slid over your body. His eyes seemed to glint under the darkness of the room, lust filled and wanting.

You didnt shift uncomfortably, you pretended to be that doll he expected you to be.

Just staring up at him as he slowly leaned down to kiss you. His lips felt like snowflakes on a winters day, idly swaying side to side to catch one in your mouth. Jolting like electricity when they melted into your touch, red and swollen when he pulled back. You now vividly felt every touch, as if a current flowed and static jittered in the places he briefly brushed his fingertips.

“You always take such good care of me,” he breathed, lips slowly drifting down your chin. Just past your jawline and right on your neck. The space between your head and shoulder, a soft vulnerable spot that had your lips humming at the affectionate pressure. “Its my turn to take care of you.”

And then his lips were everywhere, collarbone, shoulders, cleavage. Just until his teeth were tugging off your bra, face nuzzled in between both breasts. Both of his hands now resided on your hips, grabbing both thighs to hold them up and against him. You could feel him hard, pressing so close to your heated core.

You managed to keep your reactions in check.

Just until he slowly grinded against you, mouth on your breasts as he again pecked the soft mounds, molding his lips against them as if he could remember the texture, memorize the feel. It was just to that point that mindless sounds slipped past your lips, turning to gasps when his hands on your thighs suddenly buzzed, and static rushed in. Your legs felt weak, entire body thrumming in response to the electricity he sent jolting.

He was using his vision.

The realization was numb against his lips on your breasts, hands slowly stroking the skin of your sides, travelling up. He hovered over you for mere seconds before mashing his lips against you once more, different. He was no longer gentle, and it was with the contact on your tail that you lost all control. When he gently moved it out of the way, backing up.

You were a mess.

Not that you tried to be, you’d been doing your best not to enjoy his touch. But it was hard when your core heated up so fast, mashing both legs together in hopes he wouldn't notice. You knew he would, any action beyond that was just you trying to save your dignity.

He sat there like he was enjoying the sight, the first time you’d seen him actually portray any visual confirmation of satisfaction towards the chains. He’d drink dry any ounce of control you gave him, and it was impossible not to give him it all when you were visionless and vulnerable.

But the dignity you struggled so hard to keep shattered when his hands brushed against your inner thigh.

Fingers slowly made their way to the padded fabric of your undergarments, two digits rubbing the area slowly with expertise. You bit your lip, muffling any groan of anticipation, hiding the way your hips tried to rock back into the gesture. Desperate, oh so desperate. Hiding back the whimpers as he slowly quickened the pace of his fingers against your garments. “Archons Y/n,” he murmured. “I haven't even put anything in and you’re already a squirming mess.”

“Shut u-up,” was all you managed, trying to shift away from the pressure against your clit. But his other hand was on your hip, holding in place. You could only watch and press your thighs tightly together as he slowly slid down your panties, resuming hovering over you. Distracting you with kisses, his fingers gently stroked your core, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt using your juices.

He was gentle when pumping both fingers in and out, too slow when you thrust your hips to meet his fingers, pleading for him to go faster. But he liked hearing your cries, slowing down when you begged, quickening when you whined and just lay there, taking it.

You shuddered the first time electricity jolted from his digits.

It was when he had three fingers that he sent the static up your body, back arching with such intensity that it even had him chuckling. “Oh? You like it that much?” And then it is like something buzzed against your body, fingers vibrating against your clit as your thighs tightened around his hand. So much that you thought you’d crush it, but it didn't matter, not with the electrifying feeling against your body. It felt so odd, so overwhelmingly good that it had your legs sliding up and down the bedside, toes curling as the static grew and you fell paralyzed to his touch.

It didn't take long with his fingers thrusting in and out of you to cum. Moaning mess when he gave you the time to breathe, teeth biting your bottom lip and then mashing against yours. Your eyes grew fuzzy and most happened in a haze, and all you knew the entire time was that you’d given yourself to him, and that it felt good. You couldn't see the childlike wonder in his eyes anymore, not the need of a beacon or of support. No, the look he shared was feral, the smile tinting his lips almost scary. But it felt too good to care, and you let yourself enjoy his ministrations.

He pulled out and suddenly his own shorts were undone, boxers thrown to the side of the room just like all your other clothing. You didn't see how big he was, just felt his hard shaft against your throbbing cunt, pussy dripping and legs open wide and tired after your first go at it.

You expected him to be gentle like he’d been with his fingers. But he pressed the tip against your core, and in one full motion he was in. Teeth grinding against each other, you held back a scream, shock coursing through your body, overwhelmed with pain and discomfort. It hurt. But it was quickly overshadowed by his movements as he slid in and out of you, slow when pulling his hips back, and rocking himself completely inside you each time. A pattern that let you catch your breath and lose it all the same. Like he was continuously having a go at hitting the deepest parts of you, pulling back before fully thrusting into you and sending waves of pleasure and pain alike.

It was expected, but you couldnt hear yourself.

Not with your mind trapped in a haze of how he felt, body still buzzing after how he’d pulsed his vision through you. And now you were at the mercy of his member, hips swaying along with his, no energy for you to rock with him and try to push him deeper.

Archons, you didn't even think he could go deeper.

But you were proven wrong again and again as he kept the steady pace, hands clawing at your ass and hips. Stabilizing himself and trying to press himself against you, as far as he could go. Slowly, his hands drifted up to your hair, playing with the soft sensation of your furry ears. Pinching and rubbing, fingers coaxing the back of them like a massage. So gentle, but it paled in comparison to the harsh treatment of his dick.

You came first, gripping the chain with your hands in an attempt to stay stable. Walls clenching around him one last time before you got your release, your moans turning into cries when he continued to thrust into you. Your body felt numb, all nerves centred on the way he pounded into you, chasing his own release.

When he did, he pressed his head into your chest, his own breaths heavy with pleasure. Not pulling out, you could only lay there helplessly as his seed filled you, warm in contrast to the electricity he’d shot up your body just earlier. He didnt pull out, and laying in your chest, your heavy breathing didnt stop until he was asleep, collapsing on you and using you as support yet again.

Taking only a minute later to regain control of your senses, you shifted uncontrollably at his member inside of you, sending waves of pleasure every time you moved. Your wrists were restrained and you were stuck in this position till morning.

Achingly, you looked down at the boy, wondering how you would ever manage to escape.

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elsieys-blog · 3 years

Text

Perks of an insomnia-driven night.

Draco Malfoy x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: hi hello, this is my first draco malfoy au and I hope you get to enjoy it as much as I wrote it <3

contains: fluff, tension, cussing, insomnia, room of requirement, Draco's rings, and strangers to friends with benefits.

summary: due to another insomnia-driven night, you strolled and suddenly bumped into a particular Slytherin. He gave you a gift you would cherish forever.

———————————————————

A loud buzz from outside startled you as you curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket up to your torso to suppress the chilly weather. You couldn't keep count on how many times you've tried to close your eyes and think as if you went into a free fall in hopes of getting yourself adrift. But no. You've closed your eyes, opened it again, flat it again but it didn't help at all. You were widely awake despite the fact you hadn't eaten any chocolate at all.

You heaved a sigh before deciding to leave your bed and go on for a short walk on the dimly lit hallways. Perhaps the calmness and stillness of it would soothe you. You pushed the duvet away from your nearly naked body and slipped your slippers onto your feet. Standing up, you went over to the bathroom, did some basic hygiene before twisting the doorknob and leaving your dormitory in a swift.

God, even the Ravenclaw common room didn't look fancy anymore.

It usually does every morning to dawn. But every midnight and pass midnight? It looks like as though someone was murdered and students ought to stay hidden in their dorms.

As your quiet and soft trudges echoed the walls, only a few line of torches lighting your way, you exited the Ravenclaw common room and was now and finally outside. The hallways were now bigger and neverending, as if you had set foot into a deja Vu. A few floorboards you step creaked and so the snoring portraits on every corner and side of the wall yawns and went back to sleep.

You maintained a good slow and calm pace until you forgot to pick up your wand from your room. There was no going back now because it was a long way back. Now you had to squint your eyes so that it adjusted from the pitch black darkness.

Loud cawing from crows scare you sometimes so goosebumps prickled your skin. The only thing you could see was the dots of glitter from the sky and the shadows the oak trees casted on the ground. The shadow was formed strangely and it looks distorted so you held a deep breath, reminding myself that there was nothing to be bothered of. And that everyone was sleeping just fine.

As you walked silently, your head elbow-deep in thoughts, you didn't know you were now staring at a wall so called the Room of Requirement. The walls was approximately fifteen feet, bizarre patterns across it.

"Well, there's nothing else to go, so. . ." Your mind spoke and you closed your eyes, thinking of a plausible reason to get yourself inside. After a few seconds, you heard three faint clicks until the wall molded into a tall door. You glanced sideways before entering the room slowly.

You were met by the darkness once again, but this time it felt comforting. You walked and walked, taking in the unblemished and grubby furnitures hidden beyond the tall door. There were stacks and mounds of unused things that you felt suddenly guilty. As you roamed around without a route, a movement beside you caught you off guard and it piqued your interest. Is someone else here?

"hello?" You started, your brows furrowing as you followed the movement.

As far from your expectations, the anonymous person replied and it was a manly, cold voice. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

A shiver came across your spine. You shyly said, "aren't you supposed to be too?" You saw his shadow lurch and you took the chance to step forward.

He said, "doesn't matter why I'm here. This is my usual spot." His voice was a bit taunting and bragging.

"Well, you're hiding in the shadows so... And you're not supposed to hide if you claim this as your spot." You sternly said, keeping your gaze fixated on his moving shadow.

"I'm not hiding. Have you come to the realization that it's the dead of the night?" He sternly said.

"Yes, but— I think we should come over to the light so I can see you." You plead but you doubt he would actually do it.

"See me? Pathetic."

You sighed. "What? How about let's do it together? I'm really in the mood for some company right now."

The man was hesitant at first but he considered it. As much as he was irritated by someone invading his territory, he kind of wanted a company too. There was a strong exhale across you as he said. "Fine."

You gave an upturned smile, stepping into a small ray of light seeping through a window. The moonshine cradled your face as well as his. He stood tall and with poise in front of you with a neutral glare, looking down as if his eyes belittle you. "Better princess?"

You couldn't help but stare at his eyes. Wait- he was standing in front of you so he blocked the moonshine and you could only see his silhouette. You grabbed his sleeve and ushered him to a better angle. When you gently pushed his back on a partition, you finally got to look at his golden blue eyes, and the bits of freckles that stretched to his nose and cheekbones. His face was sculpted beautifully and even his nose shaped like a button. He was lithe and pristine. And you began to coil into a pit of fire.

"You're- Draco Malfoy?" Your voice shook.

"that's me." He smirked and it only made my headspace ablaze. "And you are?"

You were too busy admiring his features but your mind eventually rebounded. "I- Y/n- Y/n Y/l/n!"

He kept on smiling. "Oh, you!" He began to finally acknowledge your ghostly presence before. "You're the one I shared potions with on fifth year eh? The one where we got perfect scores?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Right. The only reason we got perfect grades for it was because of my skills actually. Don't forget that." He playfully said, beaming a wink at you which got your cheeks turning slightly crimson.

"Ha ha, very funny. I still helped though." You avowed.

"Mhm. But I did most of the dirty work and you just stood there, watching." He laughed and I chuckled. Fun times.

"Fine. Have it your way. I did watch instead of help. Happy?" You jeered but you couldn't help but glance at the collection of rings on his bony fingers. You went still for a moment and decided to ask the unthinkable. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You- you have nice rings. It looks good on you." You faltered in the slightest but remained a tepid look. "Silver matches you to be honest."

"Silver?" His eyebrows rose and his voice was unbelievably sexy. "I get that a lot."

You keep on staring, checking out the patterns designed on the small ringed jewelry such as serpents and cursive letters. You didn't realize you were smiling until his fingers convulsed. "Y/n?"

You look back into his stormy eyes with embarrassment. "Oh I- I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's obvious you really like them, don't you?"

"Well, I mean it's pretty but-"

"Would you want one?" His question was out of the blue so you nearly jolted.

Your eyes widen in full extent, the feeling of affection was set into extreme levels that you feel like you're about to explode. "Oh er- that's good thank you, but-"

"It's pretty I get it. And you seem to admire it as much as I do so ..." He paused, removing one of the glinting rings from his ring finger and held it into his palm. "Here, you can have it for me."

Your cheeks were flaming and it was intolerable. He was platonic and you never expected it from him. You sucked in a deep inhale, tongue-tied. "Oh my god, Malfoy, this was so unnecessary-"

"It's alright. Besides, I think that hand of yours need some color." He smiled tenderly, handing you the ring. His height was towering and it only made things worse for you to handle because of how the air thickens and the atmosphere suddenly getting hot.

"I d-don't know what to say." You stutter. "But thank you. Thank you so much, wow."

You got ahold of the metallic ring, inserting it on your ring finger but it didn't fit. It was expected of course. So you tried putting it on your middle finger but it was loose still. As you were about to put it on your thumb, his cold hands gripped your wrist making you halt mid-process.

"What is it-"

"Here let me help you out."

God, he was also wearing a silver glinting necklace. Now that is fucking sexy!

Draco unclasped his own necklace, putting either ends of it into the ring until it hang perfectly. When it was perfectly adjusted just how he wanted it to, he offered it to you without double thinking, a genuine grin sprawled on his handsomely face.

You were still deeply honored yet it felt... Wrong. "Draco- I really appreciate this but- it's yours and we barely even talk-"

"I don't care about that." He flawlessly said. "You remind me of someone I deeply love and... I guess this is my way of being grateful we met at this untimely night." He scoffed and you're a bit sure you saw a hint of blush on his face.

"Really?" You didn't bother asking who that person was since he probably wasn't in the mood to tell you. You were flattered by his words as you accepted his offer.

"Yes. Now take this, and wear it. I want to see your hands with my rings, Y/n." He flirtatiously spoke, giving you another wink.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous act. As you were about to out it, he stopped you once more and this time you were a bit provoked. "What is it again?"

He shrugged, and now the blush hidden in his handsome features was now displayed. It was cute seeing his pale, porcelain skin yo be tainted with a tinge of scarlet. He took the necklace into his hands and made strong and seducing type of eye contact. You nearly tripped at his look right now as he said. "Let's make this scene a bit... Romantic. And by that..." He clasped the necklace on your neck, his fingers ghosting your skin ever-so-slightly. "I get to do this to you."

You shudder, not just because of the cold weather, but because of his cold touch. It was so nice against your skin that you wanted him to do it again. You smiled and bit your lip to restrain any embarrassing words. "Draco, you're being too sweet-"

"Am I? People always like the idea of making me sound rude. It feels good I get to prove it to you that that is a lie." His hands sat ok your shoulder, the pad of his thumb caressing you pulse point between your neck and shoulder.

"I understand that. When people wanted to make you sound like a villain when truly your just trying to be genuine and basic?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah, Y/n. Something like that."

You contemplated for a moment, the tension between you building up because of how close your lips had been. It was merely an inch apart, your noses almost touching that you suddenly want to feel the saccharine taste of his lips and the soft texture pressed against yours. Maybe it would be the cure to your insomnia-driven nights. Maybe it would ease and alleviate you.

"You're pretty, you know?"

You were taken a back. You stared at his eyes still and didn't even realize his hands had dropped down to your elbows, pulling it closer to him, informing you that he wants your hands to lean on his chest—to feel how ragged his breathing had gotten just by her presence. You flinched a little and smiled.

"Oh?" Was the only word to roll out of your tongue.

"Mhm." Draco was lost in his own void, his concentration had dropped from your eyes and down to your gaped lips. "So pretty..."

Fuck...

You couldn't bear the growing impatience anymore and you knew to yourself that you had to do something about it. Something to help soften his heavy breathing. He looked tired and worn out. Fragile and about to burst. You had to do something about it quick before he breaks.

Shit!

And so you lifted your heel to match his height and pecked a kiss on the corner of his mouth. For a moment Draco closed his eyes to memorize the way both your lips linked—he was awestruck. He smelled good. So good that you wanted to give another go but was frustrated enough that he didn't slam you against the wall and leave you breathless from his aggressive kisses so you just stood there and watched him remember the unsolicited peck you just gave him.

"Y/n-"

"Can I kiss you?" You abruptly said without hesitation. "Again? And this time... Better?"

Shit..

He nodded in the slightest of movement before lowering his head and both your lips met anew. There were fireworks and butterflies erupting in your stomach and all you could feel was how graceful and subtle his tongue shifted against yours and it was pure bliss. And this time, it was rougher than you thought.

a/n: AHHH! i hope you liked this one, and also PART TWO IS COMING SOON! sorry, I left y'all in a cliffhanger ;))

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco fanfiction #harry potter #draco x y/n #draco x ravenclaw!reader #slytherin #ravenclaw

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 2 years

Note

why do you like 'ice' so much? :o (plz go Off, info dump on meeee uwu)

ok WELL first of all, I may not live in Alaska anymore, but I'm from there, so I see any of my shows do an episode set there and immediately go "!!!!!" so obviously I'm a tad biased (thus my one post-ep fic absjsnsksms) but also I just think Ice is an unironically, genuinely very good episode. I believe it's actually a tribute to the film "The Thing" (dir. John Carpenter; @spacekrakens has told me a bit about it actually and it's in my watch list) and I'm just... very very into the episode in its entirety tbh.

the Vibes(TM) are impeccable, like... that feeling of being inside where it is Very Hot while it's Very Cold outside? yeah that's the setting of Ice and everything in the set design and lighting and such evokes that feeling SO WELL. people complain about the lighting on TXF, and that's... oft valid... but I LOVE the lighting in Ice. it really evokes the tension and confusion and mistrust running through the episode — a good example is that scene where they're going to the bunkrooms and Mulder and Scully pause to say goodnight and the hallway is lit in this very distinct red lighting (I have some other meta about Scully + lighting in particular, and specifically red lighting, but that's for another time). it just feels so *right* for what's going on and is about to happen.

the thing that initially really got to me about Ice is that scene where Mulder and Scully have that standoff, both pointing their guns at each other and waiting to see who will back down first. the entire premise of the episode — parasites causing fatal aggression — means that there's a lot of stress and emotions running high in the entire group, and that nobody can fully trust each other or themselves. I've written a lot of meta about this scene but it's mainly been in tags and stuff on gifsets lol and/or inserted into my post-ep fanfic, so I'll write it all out again here.

the thing you have to understand, especially in the early seasons, is that Mulder has never had anybody who treats him the way Scully does. he's had a previous partner (who shows up in later seasons) who believed in his theories, but based on what we see, she never treated him with respect the way Scully does. early on in the show, when Mulder gets scared, or stressed out, or what-have-you, it manifests as aggression. he's EXTREMELY defensive, because he's spent his entire life disdained and not listened to or believed, and that's a big part of why he pulls his gun in the first place in this ep.

everybody is stressing the heck out, nobody knows what's going on or who to trust. it's not immediately obvious, just bc he's not consistently the most... noticeably expressive guy (s1 is fun bc you can tell the actors were only just figuring things out lol), but after everything that's already happened and ESPECIALLY after finding that other guy dead, Mulder is afraid. we the audience get to see more of Scully's fear, but Mulder is scared too and he gets mad when he's scared, and especially when he feels like he has to defend himself.

Scully only pulls her gun because she's out of options, she's scared, she's small, she can't actually do a whole lot against ANY of these people (bc even the other woman is a fair bit bigger than her), and just... visually, this scene is a masterpiece. it's framed like Scully and Mulder, their fragile trust tested in a way I don't think either of them expected, are the only people in the room. you can see very very clearly how small Scully really is, moreso than in I think any other time so far in the show??

I think what I like is that Ice goes into a lot of extremes — extreme cold, extreme fear, desperation, oscillating wildly between utter terror and a hopeful kind of trust and teamwork. it's the first time we really see M&S in this tense a situation and you get to see the extremes of their fear responses — that scene where Scully goes into the room and stands there for a second trying to calm herself before suddenly spinning around and barring the door? she is TERRIFIED. and, coming back to the standoff scene, that's actually a REALLY IMPORTANT THING.

Scully guards her emotions very carefully. yeah, she's generally more open in the early seasons than she is later on once more and more traumas start piling on, but she's still fairly guarded, ESPECIALLY about her fear. it's not... explicitly stated until season 2, but for as much as she trusts and lets herself rely on Mulder, she doesn't want him to think he has to protect her or that she can't handle herself. that's especially true early on in s1 bc they're still figuring out this new partnership thing and she's just starting out and kinda has something to prove. but in this episode and specifically this scene, she completely drops all those guards — it's not a conscious choice, she's scared and upset and pointing a gun at her partner while he points one at her, and the one person she should (does) trust most right now may not be who he is, and all bets are off. she doesn't have the option to hold onto her skepticism and disbelief, because there's no denying what's happening. she doesn't have the option to hide her fear.

and THAT, more than her reason and logic or anything else, is actually what gets through to Mulder. he gets to that point because he's stressed and scared and so tired of not being listened to/believed/taken seriously, and the thing is — Scully is the odd one out. she's like... the one person who does listen to him and take him seriously, even if she disagrees with him. she may not believe his theories, but she believes him as a person, and that's why she's different to him. and now she's seemingly against him as well and that SUCKS but like I keep saying: they are both SCARED.

Mulder hasn't often seen Scully scared, but when she finally breaks a little bit while they're pointing their guns at each other, when she cracks and her voice wavers and she says "Mulder, you have to understand, you may not be who you are" so desperately, that's the moment he takes a step back and softens and puts his gun down. because he saw her scared, and he saw her scared not only of this parasite, but of HIM, and he... doesn't want to make her scared. (shhhh don't @ me for constantly quoting my own fic... half the reason I even wrote that fic was for the sake of this meta lol)

idk that was the thing that stuck with me from the very first time that I watched the episode, that they have this very tense, serious standoff but it's oddly full of trust. Scully doesn't believe that Mulder would ever hurt her outside of if he was infected with the parasite, which is shown again when she goes into the storage closet with him — all of it, pretty much everything in the episode, is this back and forth act of trust. and Mulder, for his part, is trying very hard to be worthy of that trust and offer it to her as well.

and just like how she always gives him the respect of listening to him, he also listens to her and backs down, not for himself or for either of the other people, but only for her. I think Scully is probably the only person who could really talk him down from something like that, and that's... really interesting ESPECIALLY since this is so early in their partnership. and I think knowing that she's afraid, and that he's a part of it, is a big reason for that — he cares more about her and how she feels than he does how he feels.

...I guess in a way I feel like it's very female-gaze? and the aesthetics of it are gorgeous and so well-used and just the INSANE amounts of relational development that's packed into this one little 45 minute episode barely two months into the series' run?? AMAZING.

like... ok so trust is a big deal for them, it's a HUGE theme of the show and their relationship as a whole, and that's established very early on, before Mulder even trusts Scully at all. and eight episodes into the first season, when they can't have been working together for more than a few months, the tentative trust they have is tested in an entirely unexpected, dangerous way, and only turns up stronger in the end.

also Scully is really really cute. her outfit in Ice is basically how I dress all winter long shdjdnsksmsm (also oddly enough I found it very... idk maybe empowering, the first time I watched it??? simply bc her hair is so messy and half-tied back like that, and I saw that and went... Oh. it's ok for me to have a screwed up messy ponytail??? so yeah ndjsnsksk)

aaand i have taken like a month and a half to finally finish writing this and it STILL feels kinda incomplete, but I'm gonna call it and give up on sitting on this ask any longer lol, so if I think of anything more to say on it I will add it and tag you! thanks sm for this ask though, sorry for taking so long on it!! I just really wanted to say All The Things shsjsnsksk 😅

#btw if you ever want me to infodump about literally any TXF episode. i will do it.#just hit me up and I Will Do It. that is a promise.#and it prob won't take me as long as this one did adhdlsnslsjwjs #Lu rambles #asks #txf #the x files #msr #kinda?? i don't tend to see it as romantic so early on except in certain aus but still #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder and scully #txf meta #txf s1 #meta finding tag

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orange-plum · 3 years

Text

So I was commissioned by @andrastesassets to write about the scene in “Satan and Me” where Satan gives his wings away for Natalie, but from his POV. This was kinda a big turning point as a wake-up call in the series for him, as you’re probably aware if you’ve read past that point and seen him be more open with his feelings and such. Anyway, it was a fun little thing to explore (yes, this is canon thoughts of his). I never expected to be commissioned to explore deeper into a canon of my stories that hasn’t been put into words before with the images alone of the updates, but I’m def open to that in the future!

Without further ado, here you go.

The looming presence behind him paled in comparison to the disorienting lurch his stomach gave as he kneeled on the unwelcoming cement floor. Keeping his gaze down, concentrating on the little tremors of his arms holding him upright, Satan struggled to properly see through the fog of stress clouding his mind. Clouding his judgement.

Fuck, this wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Was he being too hasty? Should he spring up and sprint out the door before he followed through with something he couldn’t come back from? This was definitely one of his more impulsive and reckless decisions he’d ever committed to. Nothing could truly be worth this kind of –

Satan’s hand twitched, starting to rise as nerves got the best of him, when a blur of orange and maroon hovered on the edge of his peripheral. For a brief moment, he found himself vaguely wondering what the smudge of color was in the expanse of drab brown walls and muted trim.

Reality came crashing against him like an unforgiving tide for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. Sweat gathered at the base of his neck and he swallowed.

Satan returned his palm flat against the cement, locking his joints and muscles into place so that he would not stand up. His stomach did another discombobulated lurch.

Right. This was for Natalie. Natalie, who had no right looking so gray, Father, she was like a corpse.

She is a corpse! His mind howled the confirmation at him, leaving his breaths shallow in his welling panic.

Yes, that was true. It had been true for hours now, yet, somehow, the complete depth of what that really entailed eluded him in his denial. How could she be dead when she had talked to him only moments ago? Human’s lives had always felt fleeting, but had any ever felt quite this temporary before?

Less than a year they had been together . . . How had she burrowed this deeply under his skin? When? Satan tried to conjure a memory to pinpoint the exact moment Natalie had become a constant in his life as he bore his back to Death and Pestilence. In the end, it was fruitless. Between his ears remained endless static.

The tension in the air was suffocating. His arms trembled, but he kept his jaw clenched.

He would give them no further satisfaction when taking the last bit of value he still possessed of his former self. They would not see him fall apart at their feet. That could come later, when left in the privacy of this cold, dreary room, where he could lick his wounds and recover in peace.

He was still Lucifer, the Morning Star and omen of destruction to all who opposed him, wings or not.

But, fuck . . . Father, he would prefer to keep his wings.

Somehow, boneless and lightheaded from the trauma of the morning, Satan noticed, with a small sense of intrigue, that his back actually felt heavier now that it was empty. How was that possible?

The long gashes where the trunks had been swiftly carved open spewed boiling trails of lava down his skin, soaking into the hem of his robe and pooling Great Lakes onto the floor. Energy had left in his limbs the moment the numbing kiss of Death’s blade breached his muscles.

On wobbling legs, Satan rose in his shock and joined Natalie at her side. He carefully reached toward her, gliding the tips of his fingers against her ashen cheek, almost afraid to touch, because she looked exactly the same. What the hell? She looked no different than when she had been splayed out like a weathered ragdoll amongst her bedsheets at sunrise, goddamnit.

Before he could garner enough strength to turn on his company and spew venom and vitriol from his lips, Satan froze. Warmth wafted over his fingers under her nose as he lowered his hand. Closer inspection revealed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The nauseating cramping in his stomach abated so suddenly, he almost keeled over right then and there.

“Give it a few minutes,” Death commented over his shoulder, as if reading his mind. There was no longer a smile in his voice, his face a neutral mask as Satan glanced at him with gritted teeth, the sight of his former pride being folded up and collected like loose laundry too much to bear. “It takes a little while for a soul to acclimate into their body after death. I assure you, her color and liveliness will rekindle when she wakes up.”

Through the haze, Satan vaguely realized he must’ve been making some type of suspicious face when Death suddenly snorted and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. “For all we’ve been acquainted, Lucifer, you should know I’m not one to break my word. Give my regards to little Natalie when she rejoins the land of the living, won’t you. As always, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you and your brother again when the time comes for your big day.”

With the room empty, peppered only with the soft sounds of Natalie’s breaths and the distant echoes of Death’s laughter down the desolate hallway, the elephant in the room was no longer avoidable. Satan slumped against a wall, transfixed by the rise and fall of the chest beside him. Even more so as the rosiness began to fill Natalie’s cheeks the longer she breathed life into her form.

His previous adrenaline had left him a hollow puppet, now that there was no longer the turbulent cocktail of anxiety and doubt weighing on his shoulders. Satan allowed himself to drift to the floor, lying beside the only person he had ever met who had compelled him to do something so utterly foolish. Jesus, her daredevil stunts to ground him at his lowest points seemed to have rubbed off on him, and likely not for the better.

Satan’s wounds throbbed at the edges, a constant reminder of the magnitude of what he had just done.

Don’t think about it, his mind lethargically reminded. What’s done is done, so don’t start regretting it now.

“Prophecy child, huh . . . ” Satan muttered, his arm leveraged under his head like a makeshift pillow. The light cascading through the windows almost seemed to light up Natalie’s hair in its luminescence. Amongst the carnage splattered around them from his sacrifice, she was ethereal and without blemish.

He had found out about the Child of Prophecy by chance, becoming enraged at the notion of being kept in the dark so late in the game. Natalie’s existence had changed from an everyday annoyance to one of unbearable burden.

She had the power to sway him? To sway his empire and everything he worked for? A being like that, who would steal his autonomy or cast him spellbound, was too dangerous to fraternize with. There was just too much on the line to risk throwing away for some goofy, loud-mouthed human without an ounce of self-preservation.

And so Satan had done the only logical thing he could think of at the time: He ran away, leaving her with that pitiful, crumpled face as he rejected her in that inconsequential Oregon town. The less time he spent with her, the better off he’d be.

Only . . . That had not played out as he’d hoped. Watching Natalie disappear over the side of a bridge had been like a bolt of electricity coursing through his body. That she would see him as the monster that he was, a grotesque monstrosity that even Michael had recoiled from, and attempt to help him, regardless? Well . . . Perhaps there was more to Natalie McAllister than he had originally considered. He’d cradled her close and winced while he repaid her kindness by accidentally boiling her alive.

Oregon was a wake-up call.

Natalie had piqued his curiosity, her smiling reassurance that she didn’t befriend monsters jumpstarting the heart in his chest that he had presumed stopped functioning centuries ago. Not only that, but he had no way of knowing he would soon find out that running toward the very man attacking her and her cowardly little friend, despite the blatant terror in her eyes, was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh,” Satan muttered, something foreign flooding into his chest, emotion catching in his throat as he stared at Natalie’s slumbering form.

Silencing Hell for him at the cost of her soul . . .

Calling him her guardian angel. Crying, not for fear of Hell, but for fear of being separated from his company . . .

As much as he wanted to deny it, the fondness in Natalie’s eyes as she smiled at him was undoubtedly genuine. She really did seem to look at him like he hung the stars above her head.

“I love you, Lucifer. I’m glad I got to meet someone like you.”

Satan trembled, unable to properly sort through the sensations overflowing from his chest as Natalie’s eyelashes began to flutter. Champagne bubbles tickled his stomach, and though not required to breathe to live, he felt so remarkably breathless at once.

So that’s what this is, Satan distantly thought, watching pale eyelashes finally parting to reveal a cognizant gaze, blinking against the trickle of sunlight warming her cheeks. When meeting Natalie’s eyes, he couldn’t keep the smile of relief from his face.

Satan understood that he had never experienced this before, but he somehow knew what to latch onto in his jumbled mind with unquestionable conviction.

I love her.

#satan and me #writing #its not technically but im going to tag it #fanfiction #writing commission #commission #andrastesassets

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sharkneto · 2 years

Note

👀

This is going to be a longer snip but it's a fun one. A For Fun scene that is in no way canon to Holding It Together, just a bit of fun musing because, well, obvious reasons:

“Have I come at a bad time?” the woman asks with mock sincerity. She glances between the Walters and Five before smiling. “Good.”

“You’re quite the cockroach,” Five says, stiff smile on his face. “People just don’t stay dead like they used to, do they?”

“Takes a cockroach to know one, doesn’t it,” the woman says easily, slinging Five’s insult back at him. His shoulders tense. “And you’re one to talk about not staying dead. You play pretty hard and fast with that little universal law, don’t you? Just how many times have you failed to keep your little family alive?”

Rob shuffles closer to Sarah and wills the rest of the Hargreeves to catch up with them. He doesn’t know who this woman is, but there is an obvious familiarity between her and Five. Experience says that means she’s with the Commission, and that makes her bad news. The tension in the room between them is palpable, something he could cut with a knife.

The woman daintily sets her briefcase down at the corner of the hallway and takes a few steps further into the room, high heels sinking into the carpet and her gaze never wavering from Five. With a careful motion, she pulls the netted veil from her face, tucking it back into her silver-blonde curls.

Five sidesteps to partially meet her, keeping himself between her and the Walters. Sarah fumbles to find Rob’s hand. The woman’s gaze flicks to take in the movement.

“What do you want?” Five demands.

“Come, now, Five, where are your manners? You’re not even going to introduce me to your friends?”

Five’s tight smile only grows.

“Well,” the woman sighs, obviously disappointed in Five. She turns her attention to Rob and Sarah. A chill runs down Rob’s spine as their eyes meet. “I am, well. I was Number Five’s handler. We know each other very well, don’t we Mr. Five?” She turns that sickly sweet smile back to Five. He tilts his head, neither confirming nor denying. Her focus flicks back to Rob and Sarah. “And you are?”

It takes Rob a second to realize no actual name is coming. He glances at Sarah before opening his mouth to answer.

“They’re not relevant,” Five interrupts, forcing the Handler’s attention back to him. “Why are you here?”

“Why, Five, I thought that was obvious. I’m here to make a deal.”

“I’m not interested in making any deals with the Commission.”

“Ah, but I’m not with the Commission.”

Five narrows his eyes. She simply smiles back and holds out her hands in a ta-da! “I’ll cut to the chase, you always like that,” the Handler says, hands dropping. “You and I make a good team, and I think I have something that would be mutually beneficial.”

“No, no we don’t,” Five says with a sharp shake of his head. “Whatever you have to offer, you can shove right up your ass.”

“Five,” the Handler coos, taking another step closer. Five holds his ground, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You haven’t even heard what my deal is yet. Do you know the trouble I had to go through to track you down, and now you don’t even want to hear what I have to say?” She holds a hand to her chest in mock hurt, a pout twisting her blood-red lips.

Rob keeps glancing between the two, trying to figure out their relationship, who they are to each other. Five has been familiar with the few other Commission agents they’ve come across in the short time he’s been with them, but this is a whole other level. There’s a levity to how the Handler is playing with Five, a teasing that hints at a genuine deeper connection.

He’s not sure that’s a good thing.

“That is a good point,” Five concedes. “How did you find me?”

“You forget, Five, I know you. I will say, it was a little bit of a puzzle to figure out where you dragged your family after that botched 2019 timeline you were in before. But! Then I remembered that little joy ride you went on just before the Dallas Job and you stabbed me in the back and betrayed everything. I let it pass, then, figured after four years of exemplary service I could let a little side trip slide, let you visit whatever little moment you wanted to see. That mistake is on me, I’ll admit to that one. Creating your own little diversion, that was clever, Five. A backup timeline almost identical to your own, a safe alternate that isn’t different enough to be flagged but is different enough to allow you and your family to easily slip in without any immediate paradoxes. Why, when I thought to check here—”

She’s cut off by a soft whumpf! at the entryway. “I don’t know if you guys realized but you left your garage…” Number trails off as he takes in the scene, gaze flicking between Rob and Sarah, Five, and the Handler as he freezes, unsure of what he just walked in on. Five closes his eyes with a grimace at his alternate self’s poor timing.

The Handler’s face curves into a delighted grin. “Oh, Five,” she purrs.

Number frowns and glances to Five for guidance. The Handler steps past Five to better study him, long skirt swooshing. She walks a slow circle around Number, taking him in from every angle. Number turns his head to keep her in his sight, eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion.

As she makes it back around, the Handler stops and spins back to Five. Five has turned to continue facing her, his expression guarded but obviously uncomfortable. “Five,” she says again, voice full of condescending humor. “That’s what your little side trip was? You really thought all it would take was you to divert the entire apocalypse?” Five shifts slightly but holds her gaze. Her Cheshire cat grin grows and she slowly strides back to Five, each step an emphasis to her words. “That’s rather narcissistic, even… for… you.” By you, she is directly in Five’s space, too close to him, and she reaches out with one, perfectly manicured finger to lightly tap him on the nose.

And Five lets her.

The anxiety that had been pooling in Rob’s gut tightens. Five is careful with touch. He has careful boundaries that he maintains, deliberately decides what brushes and hugs from his siblings he will allow, and nothing passes his defenses without a moment of hesitation to catalog it, categorize the touch as friendly or threat.

Five doesn’t react to the tap, he just stands stiffly as the woman’s finger brushes the end of his nose, doesn’t even blink at it.

It sets off a lot of very loud alarms in Rob’s mind.

#snips #tua #the handler #alternate scene #holding it together #the handler is just so fucking fun to write #it's tragic that i believe so strongly that she should have died in s1 so i never really play with her #but! that's what random snips are for!

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x15)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 15: Not All Rainbows

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

An ice pack sits partially on the sofa’s arm and partially on the head that is being knocked softly- but repeatedly- by its designated owner. The fist taps that forehead with the vigour of a dedicated hammer that is softly checking the tensile strength of its mettle. The second camera takes the liberty to zoom in on Tony’s face that has the tension the size of the Alps looming over his head. Other spectators sit around, going about their activities with their five senses while the sixth was stuck on Tony. One camera panned on Wanda’s figure standing in the kitchenette, stirring her coffee cautiously, locking eyes with the lens.

Wanda: Only if you could see the monstrous cloud looming over his head. *stretches the corner of her lips* It’s made less of anger and more of worry and embarrassment. *blinks and furrows her brows* And choco-chip ice cream for some reason. *shrugs* Though I'm just glad that nothing was broken or smashed today. *stops midway* *raises her index finger* Although...

Scott: *glows inside out with a big smile stuck on his red face* *swings from side to side in the chair* Huh? What? *shakes head* Nothing. Just *inhales* I'm worried about Tony *continues to smile*

"So-" Steve took the first step and everyone held their breath- "now we know why we weren't able to reach Carol before. She is clearly...kinda...sorta stuck right where Y/N and Loki are? I think the kids are safe now." "Oh? The kids are safe? I must have missed the scene where they returned home with another weird pet," Tony remarked monotonously with his eyes still closed. Peter leaned in towards Scott. "So Loki is one of the 'kids' now." Both the shippers fist-bumped discreetly before looking all serious. The camera swivelled right towards Wanda, who shared a look of bewilderment while pointing at the joy of the shippers who were clearly not reading Tony's wavelength. And Tony was not the only one on the wavelength. There in the corner on the dining table, Clint sat lost in some thought so deep that his resting face was now a resting bitch face while he dipped his arrows in tiny bottles- the purpose of which only he knew- and handled them like his own babies. "You still have to find a way to stab him with these," Natasha was quick to mention as she walked towards her friend and sat opposite him. "Oh, I'll find a way. I was in his head too, remember," Clint pointed out. "He completely underestimates me." "Hmm," she scrunched her nose, "just remove that itch-like thing on your neck before you go after him though." "Where?" He asked as he scratched the side of his neck with the end of his arrow, his furrowed brows suddenly releasing themselves at the dawn of realisation before disappearing from the camera frame to fall down from the seat with a thud. "Told you not to wipe both ends with the same cloth," she muttered while wistfully looking down at an unconscious Hawkeye.

That One Steamy Dungeon™ No one knew how, when or why Lulu was sitting there in Carol's lap like he knew her for ages. No one knew why Carol was stroking him with the back of her fingers while her eyes were stuck on you like two magnetic poles finding that one direction and sticking to it. And you genuinely did not know why you could not stop looking at Carol. All of Carol Danvers. Especially her lips. "What?" Carol finally dismissed the silence with one casual word. "Ag-sa-wuu-you're looking beautiful," was what you came up with. Loki stared at Lulu's camera with one long blink of...slowed surprise. The buzzing camera caught all three of you sitting in the returning silence over dried hay, looking at each other before you scooched down a little to hide the embarrassment visible over your face.

You: *whisper* W-well, she does look pretty despite all the dirt she's lying in. I mean *violently points at Carol in the background* look at her!!! How can someone look sooooo fucking beautiful??? *lick your lips* Except for Loki of course. That dude is on a whole another level.

Carol threw a shirt over Loki's face from her backpack. "Weren't your looks enough this time?" "Wasn't your hairstyle enough this time?" came the retort. You sat there in the middle, your eyes moving between both of them to calculate this new chemistry you were seeing. The camera caught you pulling your legs closer to your chest. "I didn't know you two were so...close to each other."

Javier: *signing* Why? *Furrows his brows* does that make you furious, Y/N? *wiggles his brows up and down in question* Hmm? *zooms in on his face* Hmm? *turns the camera towards the screen from which he and Green are watching the live broadcast*

"Close? I met him on one mission and this punk would have been dead had I not saved his ass back then." Carol smirked through the sentence and you did not realise any time sooner that you were staring at her, your mouth almost at the edge of drooling. "You blew my cover," Loki stressed while putting on the grey free size shirt. "And then she had the audacity to make me pay for her bar bill on the next stop," he gasped while looking at you. Javier took the opportunity to make his drone zoom at your iris, catching your pupils dilate in 4K as soon as Loki started narrating the story to you while you nodded in enthusiasm. "You do realise your ex-girlfriend wants to cut off your new girlfriend's head right this moment, right?" Carol was generous to point out while getting up and wiping off all the dirt and hay. "I'm not his girlfriend." "She's not my ex-" Both of you had the synchronisation of an orchestra. Carol took this opportunity to let her eyes pass the judgment- which played from one face to another and back for sheer entertainment.

Carol: *shrugs* *runs her hand through her pixie cut hair* Priorities, I guess. *nods*

"Anyways," Loki tried to cut this weird air surrounding the three of them that apparently Lulu was the only one enjoying, rubbing himself all around Carol's leg, "do you have a plan to get out of here?" "Of course," Carol simply jerked her shoulders, "punch my way through." You blinked at the camera.

You: Is that why they are called Captain? It has to be, right?

You shook your head and looked around in the ground, leaving Loki to do the bickering on your part as well. "Well, Miss one-punch woman, this time you are not the only one that needs to escape." You found a stick in the corner. It seemed to be made of the same ashen wood that Aellae sat on in her throne room. "We have tiny mortals to save too." Carol chuckled. You raised the stick your eye level, feeling the weight in your hands when suddenly your eyes grow wide and your mouth turns into a horror-filled 'O' "What? Where is the comedy?" A violent grunt came from your lungs, turning both Carol and Loki into attack and defence mode in your direction. Lulu's camera caught you taking the stick out of the orc's stomach. The dull creature blankly looked at the blood turning into sparks flying against the gravity before slowly consuming the whole creature, taking him with them. The next twenty seconds were a pause on every breath. You finally turned around, the stick still in your hand. "Did I kill him?" you asked in a whisper. Loki and Carol shared a glance. "It was just a bruise" Loki shoved your concern away with his hands. "He's in heaven now," Carol sang. "He was a bad guy, right?" "Yes," both of them nearly shouted. "It's good that he disappeared. You helped the universe get rid of a bad guy," Loki clapped his hands before give you an awkward thumbs up. You blinked at both of them. The smile eroding on your lips slowly turned the duo uncomfortable. "Good." Was all you said for your stature completely transformed. "Because that felt..." you did not finish the sentence, clearly concerning your company. Well, Lulu seemed to like whatever vibes you were giving off. “Y/N,” Loki pretty much sang your name cautiously, slowly lifting his hands in the air to have a word with you to process whatever you were feeling. But you were already running outside with the most suspicious giggle the room had ever heard. Carol even shivered a bit to shake it off of her.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun You better run

The one buzzing drone in the hallway caught the slow-motion emotion of you walking into the hallway with the ash stick in your hand like a gun- locked and loaded- with something fierce burning in your eyes. Behind you Loki was trying to catch up with the adrenaline rush you were feeling, calling out your name to stop you. Carol was close behind, cheering you on as much as she could.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga

The orcs didn’t even seek you out. One of the reasons was the fact that you were running towards them first, swinging your arms with as much force as your body allowed, screaming your lungs out and jumping with fueled excitement whenever they went up in flames. Loki had to take a moment out of those crucial seconds to look at you. To look at that animalistic look in your eyes. Pausing for a millisecond to consciously question whether to admire it or fear it, he almost smiled. He might have stood there for a few seconds more had he not felt the blue plasmic force run by his side to destroy the one orc aiming for you from your blindside.

It started with the hayloft a-creakin' Well, it just started in the hay (loft) With his longjohns on, pop went a-creeping Out to the barn, up to the hay Young lovers and they are not sleeping Young lovers in the hay (loft) With his gun turned on, pop went a-creeping Out to the barn, up to the hay (loft)

"Seriously?!" He shouted at the glowing Captain who flew past him. "Catch up. Catch up!" she teased him while leaving a trail of bodies in her way. "ANARCHYYYYYY!!!!!!!" You howled as you ran, following your new crush. Loki sighed, his head trying to hang as low as possible as he looked at the sleek shackles around his wrists. Breathing in a lungful, he grabbed the nearest iron rail from the window looking out at the barren mountains and bent it till it broke in his flexing hand. "Is this why I am still alive?" He whispered to himself while continuing to walk in the direction you just dashed in.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun You better run My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga

Throne Room Aellae sat on the ash throne frozen in thought when one of her underlings interrupted her daydreaming with its presence. "What?" She did not disguise her displeasure. There has been a mishap on the laboratory floor, my lady." Her body automatically shifted on her seat. "Four guards are dead. The source is unknown." "Is it the woman?" "No, my lady. I just checked up on her after locking Master Loki up." "Then who is it?" "We are yet to find out. My lady." "Then why are you wasting my time by standing here and doing nothing about it?" The skinny elf-like underling bowed down to her and scurried in the opposite direction. It had reached the entrance of the throne room when a weak scream left its lungs and it stepped back- falling down in the process- to make way for the uninvited guest. The poise on Aellae's face took a turn as she looked at the person casually sauntering in her direction, never realising when she got up. "Oh, don't stand on my account," White mentioned breezily with a smirk, coming to a halt right in the middle of the room. "Zune." She called out the name like spitting a curse. "It's been a while, my least favourite Witch of the West Galactica." Zune smiled his precious smile, standing bright in stark contrast to his dull surroundings. "Last time we met, you were grovelling on the floor, begging for mercy in front of the Silver Court, asking them not to punish you for the endless crimes you committed in the last century." The composure was evidently crumbling away in little pieces. Aellae's stone-like glare was slowly turning into fast blinks. Her usually unruffled breaths were now a mocked laugh. "And the court decided to send you to arrest me? Where is the rest of the coven?" She pretended to guess before snapping her pale fingers. "Oh, right. I burned them all. Poor boys. J'uke, Fae and Mi'in were still so young." Zune huffed and smiled. "Hmm. They were really young when they fought you, weren't they? And to answer your question, no. The court did not send me here." Now this made Aellae burst into laughter. "So, you are here for revenge? For your mates?" Licking his teeth, he bit his lip and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, all the playfulness in his feature draining out with every passing second. "I am just here to clean up the mess that you made. But they are the ones who are here for revenge." Taking a step back, Zune gave Aellae a few seconds to realise that they are not the only ones in this room. And just when it dawns upon her, she sees the rest of the 'coven' come out of the shadows, surrounding her from every probable escape route this place could have. "Fae," she whispered with a deep-rooted horror in her throat, backing up into her throne when she looked at the familiar red figure walking towards her. "When you were setting us up on fire-" Fae carried no empathy in his eyes as he moved closer with every step- "you forgot that you cannot make Gods made up of ancient stars disappear when you please." Every cell in Fae's body vibrated with a demonic aura that made the witch go down on her knees. Her breaths shook and her eyes watered. The claustrophobia resulting from just his presence made it hard for her to breathe. "No," she shook her head, trying her best to mask her fear. "No. This cannot be. I destroyed you. I destroyed the senate. I destroyed everything that stood in my path. I cannot fail this time. This world needs to kneel before my power. That God needs to kneel before me. NO!!" The six looked at their leader to begin the ceremony. "Aellae of the covens abandoned, child of the dark refugees, you are hereby sent to the endless pits of the universe for your crimes against the creatures of the universe." The screams of the witch echoed throughout the castle till every last ounce of life in her voice could be heard fading away by the other group at the far end of the other wing. By the time Carol arrived, all that was left were the seven boys and a pile of ash resting by the throne. “That was fast,” she did not refrain from mentioning, “I thought it would take more than that to get her to give up.” Zune shrugged. “Well, it was easy because we had you and your friends this time. She did not have much to distract us with, unlike the last time she was in prison.” Carol smiled a kind smile at them. “I hope they didn’t give you any trouble?” Fae stretched the corner of his lips. “When you first called us to go around the universe to look for a human, we were a little sceptical. But we were glad to have met her.” “Especially Zune,” Mi’in quipped, earning a yank by the ear from the leader. “Thank you for protecting her.” “No biggie. We would have protected her even if you didn’t tell us to.” Carol furrowed her brows at the statement. “Because Loki had already asked us for that favour,” Zune mentioned, clearing any doubts, “and we owed him from way back.” Feeling the ‘ah’ of a satisfactory conclusion coming on her face, she stopped midway to hear your scream turn louder the second you got closer till you turned the corner to enter the hall with your stick, forcing yourself to stop your lungs from going any further than that. “Oh,” you straightened your stance, giving up on the attack position as soon as you realised there was no more threat, “looks like you guys already cleaned the place.” “You almost sound disappointed,” J’uke stressed, judging by your disapproval of the lack of bad guys. Loki stepped in next, clearly having taken care of whatever tried to attack them from the back. "She hurt my friend. I at least wanted to watch her burn," you simply shrugged. Fae patted your head softly. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance." He smiled the most ridiculously comforting smile. "How?" You whined, "you guys already finished her." All the seven boys, Loki and Carol shared a look with each other while you stomped her foot in the ground while staring daggers at the pile of ashes. "Yeah-" Zune blurted out, scratching an itch in the back of his neck- "we definitely, for sure, totally killed her. Like-" he pretended to chop the air with his hand- "so smooth." Everyone nodded in agreement. Our elder boys of the group supported their leader while Carol gave them soft applause. Loki gave them a thumb's up.

You: *turning away from the scene in the background where everyone now sits outside the castle having a chat with each other* Aww *smile widely* it feels so good to watch them get along like that!! *start staring in the distance* *smile still stuck on your face* I wish my family could get along this well too. You know. *tilt your head* If all of them got along with Loki, I feel like half of the world's problems would vanish just like that. *watch Javier sign something to you* What? Merch store? *reads some more* Manga?? *looks closely at Javier as he continues to sign* Fanfi-what does any of it have to do with Loki? *camera pans in on your confused innocent face*

"Here's my little monster!" Carol talked in a tone that one used on babies while stroking a very excited Lulu. "Who's a scary boy! Who's a scary boy!!! You are!!! Yes!! You are!!!" You chuckled, watching Lulu enjoy the love and attention from the Captain, bumping his head with hers, wiggling in her lap before settling down in her arms, his adrenaline going down. "Who's that?" Carol asked him, pointing at you. Lulu chirped. "And who's mamma's boy?" Lulu chirped again. "Aaaand who's gonna protect mamma from bad guys?" Lulu growled. And then he chirped again, hiding his faceless husk hairy face in his paws. "Oh my God, he growls!!!!" you gasped. "Oh, he is got a lot more to show you, mamma! Give him time." You sat down next to Carol and stroked a yawning Lulu, who was now making biscuits in her arms. "This one's helped me a lot through this weird, fatal, dreamy galactic trip," you mentioned wistfully. The camera- as well as Carol- noticed how your brows furrowed slightly before your teeth bit down on your lower lip and you turned your gaze up to search for something in the rocky terrain before finally resting on Loki. Carol watched this subtle shift, patiently spectating how Loki too was stealing glances your way while having some serious looking chat with the boys.

The boys and Loki: *standing in the grey terrain like a bunch of Gods modelling for luxury hair products* Loki: It's spelt Z-U-K-O Zune: You named a dog after the fire God? Loki: Wha-no. It was all her *points at you*. Apparently, Coco was a bit too mushy for her. Something about 'Zuko reminding her of a guy who was in his redemption arc right now'. Whatever that means. Zune: *looked at the camera panning in on his face*

"So, you wanna go back now?" Carol asked you, her hands still busy stroking a purring Lulu. You inhaled to answer but felt yourself turning to look at Loki. Carol noticed it too. "Of course. H-how, long will it take?" you scratched your forehead. "We were actually pretty close to getting Loki free of his...cuffs. And I'm sure two powerful beings is always better than one." Carol chuckled and nodded. "Tell you what-" she took your hand in hers, something that you were not expecting- "I will go and take care of a couple of things for our return journey. Till then-" she stroked your hand- "you find out for yourself. Whatever it is that you're looking for." That gentle tone and those cryptically simple words changed some spectrum of the emotions on your face. You stared at her for a long while with your mouth agape. "What are you talking about?" Your breath asked in exasperation. "Cuffs, I guess?" she proposed softly with a knowing smirk. You forced out a laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about," You chuckled and found yourself looking back at Loki again.

The boys- well, at a few of them- tried to calm down the God who seemed to be picking up a rock from the ground. "Okay now-" Gin, our green jellybean, raised his hands- "let's all calm down and talk about this." "Yeah, yeah. How about we all go to the nearest oasis and have a cup of starry vodka and discuss how we are all alive. Right, Mi'in?" Me'isri, sweet yellow candy boy suggested casually. "Right," Loki nearly sang. His every step towards the boys made them retreat two. "We should be happy that the witch is gone for now. What could we possibly have had to do with her anyway? Hm? What's that? Oh! She was the one who stole my essence you say?" "Look," Ho, the sky blue cheery lad was suddenly not feeling so cheery at all, "we did not know-" "You numbnuts were the one who told me that!" Loki was practically hissing through his teeth right now, his steps breaking into a jog that was letting out some potential screams waiting in some lungs. Lulu was having a gala time just jumping in whichever direction the boys ran into as Loki chased them.

95 notes · View notes

alyblacklist · 3 years

Note

When do you think Ressler fell in love with Liz or realized he had feelings for her ?

And when do you think Liz realized she had feelings for him?

That’s a tough question, anon. Honestly, I’m not sure Ressler has dared to admit to himself, even now, that he’s in love with Liz. I think he’s getting close, though, after the Brothers final scene and Liz kissing him in 8.01. I hope he is. I want him to admit it not only to himself but to tell her how he feels because she needs to hear it.

In terms of when Ressler first realized he had feelings for Liz - I think he had genuine feelings for Audrey and he respected Liz’s marriage until it began to really fall apart so I view most of season 1 as more the building of a friendship/close bond, but I can’t deny that there were a lot of looks in there that certainly signaled there might eventually be more than friendship between them.

Regardless, I think at some point after 1.20, when Liz’s marriage was revealed to be a sham, his feelings towards her slowly began to shift, especially when he believed that Tom was dead and later that Tom was at least out of her life permanently. Even Tom seemed to pick up on it when he joked in 2.08 “what are you, her boyfriend?”

Even Diego teased the directions they were being given midway through S2 but the will they/won’t they always hung over it.

The way Ressler looked at Liz during that birthday dinner in 2.17 definitely signaled some genuine “more than just friends” interest.

I think those feelings contributed to that tension filled scene in 2.22 when he let her go, to Red already picking up on those feelings in 3.01 “what you know about her, what you feel about her could make all the difference,” to Ressler nearly choking Tom in the hallway of his apartment building in 3.02, to his emotion throughout the manhunt, and to him kicking that gnome into oblivion and having a one night stand with Samar in 3.07 when he learned that Tom was back in her life.

But then we had a pregnancy and a spinoff, Liz was freed, went back to Tom for two seasons, had his child - I think Ressler buried the feelings he had for Liz deep down at that point, figuring it was futile.

I only began to see Ressler’s feelings really resurface and build throughout Season 6 after Tom was dead and Liz returned to the Task Force after her injuries, and especially after 6.08 and all their banter. It felt like we were starting to pick up where S2 left off - finally.

For sure by Season 7 - this moment early on was a clear signal to me that there were things he wanted to say but hadn’t gotten up the nerve to say yet.

As for Liz, I think she also let herself see him as potentially more than just a friend during S2 and especially during that birthday dinner date in 2.17.

But then she shot Tom Connolly, her self-worth plummeted, suddenly she didn’t consider herself a “good person” anymore. She returned to Tom, had his child, endured that child being kidnapped, and then Tom left and was eventually killed and Liz went on her revenge quest. With all that going on, I don’t think Liz ever really looked at Ressler as more than just a good friend again until Season 6 - and especially 6.08 - when she saw how Hannah, his hired date turned girlfriend, felt about him. Suddenly, she saw him in a different light.

And I think they built those feelings authentically over S6 and S7 as he became her main confidante until finally, by Brothers, Liz admitted she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

And Ressler’s reaction to that spoke volumes - I think it was the first time he allowed himself to believe that she felt something more than just friendship for him too.

And all of that built, of course, to that kiss in 8.01. They’ve so far avoided any meaningful discussion of that moment, but I hope it’s coming as S8 progresses. It’s time for him to admit his feelings! Thanks for the ask!

#keenler #anon #long post

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mirthful-sonnet · 3 years

Text

Rise Above the Ashes | Chapter 3

Summary: Jean and Mikasa find a remedy against their nightmares, Armin has an announcement, and despite the political tensions in Paradis the peace negotiations go forward.

Notes: Thanks once again to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this <3

Warning: None

Ao3

Time was a blur that now consisted of nothing but restlessness and constant visits to the hospital.

That didn’t matter to Mikasa.

A restful sleep was something alien to her. She might as well spend her time beside Jean, trying to make up for yet another failing on her part.

It had all happened too fast, but she knew that the man could have reached her if Jean had not stepped in first. Her thoughts were too muddled, with the quietness of the hospital making the violent scene and Jean’s drug-induced confession echo inside her head.

I think I even loved you. Since we were trainees.

She was aware that he had a crush on her back then, something she had easily ignored. Yet knowing the depth of it and that he possibly still felt the same brought plenty of surprise and confusion.

Did he still feel the same way for her? No, that was impossible, and she could not bring herself to acknowledge it. Even the thought of doing it terrified her. He certainly showed no signs of remembering his words once he woke up again, and she didn’t expect him to. Not when he was still battling between life and death.

She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of death, at the mere idea of Jean dying. He had proved himself stronger and more stubborn than anyone had expected.

The doctor had described his case as nothing short of a miracle, as one of Jean’s lungs had collapsed and he had caught an infection that led to a critical fever. They had inserted a tube into his chest to help drain the excess blood and air caused by the wounds, and this morning they had finally removed it. While there was still pain, he was alive and that’s what mattered.

During the entire treatment, Mikasa remained by his side.

Jean constantly told her to go home and rest, but she rarely listened, opting to watch over him when Jean’s mother wasn’t around. She took a break from her volunteering at the orphanage and her work passing down messages to the queen. The rest of the group continued their negotiations while she and Mrs. Kirschtein watched over Jean.

Meeting Jean’s mother had brought her an unexpected sense of inner peace, her warm and caring personality making it easier to confront the guilt and uncertainty that plagued her. It took every ounce of composure to keep her from breaking down and falling on her knees with apologies when she met Mrs. Kirschtein.

The woman had smiled kindly at her, saying that she was happy that Jean had a friend looking after him so thoroughly. The reassurance in her hazel eyes was more than enough to make her feel better. It came unbidden, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of her own mother. The light that had been cruelly snuffed out of her life when her age could still be counted with her fingers.

While she felt a strange ache when watching them, she also liked to see Mrs.Kirschtein still fuss around her son, who could only roll his eyes while hiding a smile, clearly glad to have her present.

She immediately admired the lady, who put on a brave face despite the terror that had almost taken her son away from her. Mikasa had unintentionally witnessed her in such a vulnerable state during the early stages of Jean’s recovery that she had felt like an intruder.

It hadn’t been long since Jean’s mother arrived, having immediately taken the first train that was available to come to the capital with nothing but her garments and a broken heart. Mikasa had just returned but stopped when she saw her beside Jean’s unconscious form through the gap of the room’s door, fitting woolen socks over his limp feet as her only son battled for his life.

“Remember that time you fell down while playing with the neighborhood kids? I held you tight and you kept complaining about how you would be able to learn to take care of me if I kept fussing around you as if you were a baby.” She had said as she fit the blankets around his shivering form, a slight tremor in her voice as if she was trying not to cry. “You were always such a sweet child. Now look at you, a grown man but still getting into trouble. It won’t matter how older you get, because mom will always be here to take care of you.” Mikasa strained to look at the woman’s slouched shape, now crying freely. “Because you are still my little boy, my sun, and my sweet child.”

Mikasa realized then that there were tears streaming down her own cheeks as she watched the grieving mother. With one last glance, she had decided to leave them alone.

Now she was back in front of his room, holding a bag full of extra blankets and a packaged meal. At the same time, Mrs. Kirschtein opened the door to exit, startled at seeing Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” She exclaimed. “How lovely to see you! Although I thought you were back at your house resting.”

Mikasa shook her head, not wanting to explain that she barely got any rest as her sleep was filled with nightmares of blood and unforgiving steel.

“I slept for a good enough time,” she lied, “I figured I could bring more stuff for him. It’s the least I can do.”

The woman’s hazel gaze was gentle, reaching out to grasp her free hand. “My dear, there’s nothing more you could possibly do for my son. You have rarely left his side! Please don’t strain yourself so much, now I’ll have to fret over you too.”

Mikasa could only smile, squeezing back her hand. The bittersweet ache came back as she remembered her mother again, and she wondered if Jean had the same kind of memories with his mom when he was a child. Did she hold him when he had nightmares? Did she sing to the scars on his knees when he fell?

“My son still likes to act all haughty sometimes, but he cares so much. And he is worried for you. We both are.” The older woman added, looking genuinely concerned as she took in Mikasa’s weary appearance.

Mikasa knew the circles under her eyes must have given her away. “I know, Mrs. Kirschtein. I’m just…I care for him too. And this is the least I could do for all the trouble he put himself in for me.”

Her voice had come out weak, as she remembered that this wasn’t the first time Jean had saved her. Mrs. Kirschtein looked at her in disapproval. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweet girl. My son told me what you did to that horrible man who hurt him, and I couldn’t thank you enough for protecting him. I have only known you for a few weeks, but I have come to think of you as my daughter. That’s why I’m asking you to take it easy and allow yourself to rest and not worry. If not for Jean, then do it for me.”

Something jolted in her suddenly and she surged forward to hug the older woman tightly, with tears gathered in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She was mildly embarrassed, but the woman’s motherly affection had touched a part of her that had been hollow since she was that wide-eyed child living in the mountains. The older woman had stiffened momentarily at Mikasa’s unexpected reaction, but after a moment she hugged her back just as tightly, happy to offer the girl even just a little bit of comfort.

***

Jean’s coughs echoed along the hallway as he stopped to catch his breath.

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” Mikasa said, her hold on Jean’s hand faltering. He was already recovered enough to walk, but he still had to strain sometimes to breathe properly.

“Hah, don’t worry about this,” Jean managed to get out as he got his breath back and continued walking while holding onto Mikasa.

“If I spent any more time cooped up in that room, I would have jumped out from the window already. Then we would all be having regrets,” he added, his steps somewhat clumsy but still steady.

The hallway was dead silent, with bluish moonbeams filtering through the windows. The only sounds were those of their steps. Jean had wanted to take a walk since he felt suffocated in his room, and Mikasa insisted on walking with him.

“Stop being morbid,” Mikasa chided him.

Jean snorted; his breath was still strained. “It comes naturally these days.”

Mikasa looked at him, taking in the weariness permeating the smile on his face. A walking contradiction. There was still no sign of him remembering what he had said weeks ago in his delirious state. She suddenly gripped his arm tightly without noticing and he turned to her, a questioning look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his concern evident. It seemed like such a Jean thing to worry over her while he was the one who had been on the brink of death.

“Jean, I…” She trailed off, not really knowing what to say, or how to acknowledge his past confession.

“What is it?” He asked.

Mikasa paused and then just shook her head, afraid that she would say the wrong thing. “It’s nothing, I just don’t want you to joke like that.”

Jean gave her a small smile and they continued walking. It felt odd to be able to walk like this again, even if his steps were awkward. His days had been filled with medications and therapy, visits from his friends, and the usual nightmares that were forgotten once he woke up and saw that Mikasa was still by his side.

The visits brought him great comfort, whether it was Connie bringing him books to read, Armin suddenly opening a chessboard mid-conversation, Reiner reading letters from Falco and Gabi aloud, Pieck talking endlessly about new spots she had discovered in town, or Annie sneaking in donuts (her favorite treat) for him to eat.

Right now, he was glad to break from the usual routine even if just for a while, and Mikasa remaining by his side made everything better. He only wished she didn’t feel so guilty or even felt the need to trouble herself so much for him.

Jean almost found their current situation amusing. It seemed that he had spent half of his life wanting Mikasa’s attention while she looked elsewhere, something that he could never resent her for. But now they were here together in the most uncertain of circumstances, caught up in the middle of trying to build a paradise out of a blank canvas.

Armin constantly gave him updates on the progress of the treaty and other legislations that had been approved. Historia also sent him notes notifying him about their progress and wishing him a speedy recovery since she couldn’t come in person. As a monarch, it wasn’t possible, and she had to juggle her favors carefully.

Their efforts had not been interrupted despite the attack, which Jean was immensely relieved about. He knew, however, that they could not let their guard down as it was clear that the hatred from their adversaries would not stop there. His wounded body was now the tangible evidence of that hatred. The culprits were awaiting a trial, and Yeagerist officials had sent a half-hearted apology for what happened.

Bastards.

Now there was an upcoming ceremony for the peace treaty to be signed, which would be highlighted by the first ever air show on the island. A demonstration of peace that also displayed the military and technological advancements that were taking place at a rapid speed in the country.

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Mikasa’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts. She had an unreadable expression on her face.

“Of course, I am. I have gone from breaking a dozen bones to turning into a titan. A knife in my lung is nothing to me.”

Mikasa was quiet for a moment, pondering on his words. “What was it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Turning into a titan. What was that like?” Mikasa asked as they turned in a corner and faced another hallway.

Jean paused for a moment until he finally spoke. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what happened. At one point it was just me and Connie holding onto each other, wondering if what we did was enough. And then…it was just nothingness. Some part of me was alive and conscious, but the rest…well, it was like I had no control over myself. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

They kept walking slowly, their shapes casting shadows on the blank walls. At least in those moments that had seemed final he had not been alone. After the rumbling, he always had his friends with him, the terror they had faced linking all of them permanently. But Mikasa had to bear the weight of the aftermath by herself.

“I bet I looked handsome as a titan,” he tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t remember. I just took off without so much as a goodbye.” Mikasa muttered.

Jean stopped in his tracks, tightening his hold on her hand so she would look at him. “Hey now, what is this? Nobody can blame you for how you reacted after doing what you did. I don’t think I would have even had the strength to keep going, but you did anyway.”

“But I could have-” Mikasa started.

“Stop, you’re here with me now, aren’t you?” He interrupted.

Mikasa wanted to protest again, but something about Jean’s expression made her stay quiet, and she only nodded. Deep down she knew he had a point. Killing Eren had been like tearing out her own limbs, leaving behind an empty shell of a girl, a kite cut off from its string, left to drift aimlessly. But the guilt she felt over leaving her friends behind to face whatever came their way was still there. Even mourning Eren made her feel terrible, as she struggled to reconcile the boy who had saved her with the one who had caused so much destruction and suffering. In a way, being here was a way of atoning for all the time she didn’t spend with the group, who had to face and struggle to fix the outcome of that destruction. But a more selfish part of her just wanted to spend more time near Jean.

“I do think though,” Jean said as they continued walking, “that you would have loved all the places we visited.”

Jean had told her about them, weaving stories about the cherry blossoms of Hizuru, the vast deserts of the Middle Eastern countries, the icy weather of the northern isles, and the active nightlife at Marley’s emerging cities. There was something extraordinary about how humanity was finding a way to rise back up despite the destruction that happened. There was still a long way to go, but little details like the ones he recounted to Mikasa gave him some hope for the future.

Mikasa loved to hear about the different places they visited, inevitably thinking about Eren and Armin’s dreams of going outside the walls. At that point in time, she had never taken much part of their dream, happy to simply watch their enthusiasm about the outside world. But listening to Jean’s stories made her feel as if she were treading through those landscapes herself.

“Maybe I’ll see some of those places eventually,” she said, letting him stretch his arms as he walked, still holding onto her hand.

“If by some chance you find yourself lost in a hellhole like Marley’s capital, I have a spare room in my apartment,” Jean commented, taking another pause to catch his breath before continuing to walk.

Mikasa looked at him. “You’ve told me dozens of stories about your travels, but I haven’t heard much from the place you live in.”

Jean was thoughtful for a moment. “The capital city is a nice place. At least right now it is. When I arrived, it was mostly rubble and shelters for refugees. The summers were infernal too.” He told her. “But I did meet some good people there, and everyone worked hard to preserve what was left and rebuild what was destroyed. Despite everything, I think…that I miss it somehow.”

It was true, he didn’t think that he would ever come to think of Marley as his permanent home, but he had still made some memories there that he held dear. The good times, the bad times, the friends, and the lovers he had there, they were all a part of him too.

Mikasa asked him for more details, and he went on to tell her about all the work they did in the shelters, how he had painted the walls of his apartment when he found them too plain, and the neighbors who introduced him to Marleyan cuisine and the subsequent disaster he had caused trying to cook an octopus. It made Mikasa laugh, picturing a frantic Jean trying not to burn his apartment down.

He also told her about the historical landmarks that survived the rumbling, the capital square that held all the government buildings, the hectic nightlife at the entertainment quarter, and the different dialects and languages he had discovered.

“I was terrible at first,” Jean commented, “I earned a good slap from a girl when I tried speaking to her in her dialect.”

“What did you tell her?” Mikasa asked.

“Something about my privates when I just wanted to ask her name,” Jean replied, his face flushed in embarrassment.

Mikasa stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound ringing through the quiet hallway. His embarrassing memory was forgotten as he took her in, not used to seeing her laughing so freely.

“I’m sorry-” she tried to say between bouts of laughter, failing to control it. “Oh no, that’s terrible but so funny Jean!”

She continued laughing until she finally had some control of herself. Then she looked at him and noticed that he was staring at her with something she could only describe as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikasa asked between chuckles, her flushed face now matching his despite the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh-um sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen you laugh like that before,” he looked away, flustered. “It’s nice.”

Mikasa felt her cheeks burn more fiercely and she let go of his hand to go near one of the windows in the hallway, calming herself down. She didn’t remember if she ever laughed like that before. Something about Jean made smiling and laughing easy instead of a struggle.

He was standing beside her now, taking in her reddened face and black hair coming loose from her hair tie. Anyone would say she looked disheveled and tired, but he only marveled at how effortlessly beautiful she was even now. He truly was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“I guess it’s new to me too,” she was still not looking at him. “Your tales, they make me happy.”

“I’m glad,” he muttered, turning to look at the outlines of the city buildings. “All these things I’ve been telling you, the places I have seen and the people I have met… they’re all still standing because of you, Mikasa.”

Mikasa immediately shook her head in denial. “No, I-”

“It’s the truth,” he interrupted, unnerved that Mikasa thought so lowly of herself. “The people that have survived and find a reason to smile and hope every day, the way everything is rising back up even better than before, you made it possible.”

She shifted in her feet, slightly flustered at his open praise. It wasn’t just her. All of them had helped stop Eren, she wanted to say. Plus, her friends were the ones who were working tirelessly to bring peace. But she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from his words, from the anecdotes that proved that not everything was lost.

“Thanks, Jean,” she simply said, now thinking of something else she had been meaning to tell him but didn’t know how to.

They remained in comfortable silence, looking at the sleeping city before them. Before Jean could tell her that they had to go back, she finally spoke.

“Jean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Mikasa murmured, twiddling her thumbs. “Since you’re already set to be discharged and will have to follow up your treatment, I was thinking…why don’t you stay at my house?”

She had said the last words too fast, but Jean’s face made it clear that he understood her.

“What? N-no Mikasa, I can’t,” he stammered while shaking his head, “I’ll be fine in my lodgings, I can take care of myself.”

Mikasa felt her heart sink at his words, but she persisted. “I know you can… but they expect you to follow a strict routine and you’re still struggling to even walk and breathe. You’re going to need someone to help you and the rest of the group won’t be able to be there when you need it. Please, Jean, let me do this for you.”

Jean only shook his head again, even if he knew what she said was true. The group would be at the council every day while Armin gave him time off to fully recover. His mom was set to go back to Trost tomorrow after he had convinced her that he was fine and would be looked after, something that was a partial lie since he didn’t really have anyone but himself. They expected him to follow strict medications which was no problem to him, but he also had to dress and clean his wounds routinely while also having to work and do normal chores.

“Mikasa, I really appreciate it, but I can’t burden you with my condition. I promise that I’ll be fine.” His tone was firm, but the more he denied it the more desperate she became to convince him.

“You’re not a burden Jean. You could never be a burden to me. That’s why I’m asking you to consider it. This isn’t the first time you have put yourself in harm’s way for me. This is…this is the least I can do.”

Jean frowned, a little taken aback that she remembered that he had saved her once before. “What do you mean it’s the least you could do? You have done more than enough for me just by staying by my side. Don’t do this out of pity or just because you feel that you need to compensate me for something. I would take those stabbings a thousand times again if I had to.”

“It’s not out of pity!” Mikasa’s voice was shrill, which neither of them expected, and Jean blanched slightly at her tone. She reached out to grasp his arm and bowed her head, silently apologizing for raising her voice. “I want to help you,” she whispered, “it would mean everything to me if you would let me help you. We agreed that we would always be there for each other, and I meant that. Please let me help you, Jean.”

He exhaled sharply, trying to hold on to even just a sliver of stubbornness, but watching her pleading face made whatever resolve he had finally break.

Jean let out another exhale and finally nodded. “All right…I’ll stay with you, Mikasa.”

The smile that lit up her face made it worth it to him, and whatever protests he still had were quickly forgotten.

“Good, thank you, Jean.” She replied, and he wondered why she was thanking him when she was the one burdening herself for him.

He stepped forward, unable to help himself, and took a stray lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll try to be a good guest.”

“As long as no octopus is involved, I’m not worried.” Mikasa deadpanned.

This time it was his laughter ringing through the hallway.

***

Life as a soldier had taught Jean to get accustomed to every circumstance possible. So, in that way, Jean easily got used to living with Mikasa.

It wasn’t a big house, but it was enough. He had his own room and it was suitable for the work he would continue to do from a distance.

They fall into an easy routine, a small semblance of normality in a pattern filled with triggers and bad dreams.

He wakes up, the tremors of his nightmares still permeating his body as he helps Mikasa prepare coffee and breakfast, never ignorant of the stiffness in her movements during the early hours of the morning as well. No doubt still stunned by her own nightly terrors. But they are grateful that the worst kind of nightmares are kept at bay for now, and their demons lay forgotten when they greet each other and make small talk over their meal.

Mikasa learns just how stubborn Jean can be, as despite his condition he insists on helping her with every chore around the house. She only relents slightly when it comes to cooking, with Jean making savory omelets that she can’t get enough of.

There are times when her curiosity threatens to get the best of her, where she wants to ask him what he meant by his dazed confession, but she stops herself in time. She pushes it into a hidden corner of her mind to avoid breaking this bubble of comfort - this castle in the sky they were building together.

Jean on the other hand learned how fussy she could be, a trait he had somewhat noticed back then with Eren and Armin. But now he finds himself as the target of her attention, and it’s a little overwhelming. Amid her attention, he also notices how odd she acts around him sometimes-as if she wanted to tell him something but kept herself from doing so. He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so he doesn’t question her about it. Instead, he is endlessly grateful; for her watchful eyes when he is walking alone, for the snacks she leaves on his desk as he drowns himself in paperwork, and for her presence in general.

“I think Mikasa is looking to replace me as your mother”

Jean grimaced. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“I’m only telling the truth, Jeanbo. She’s been watching over you like a hawk! It’s almost like I’m not needed around here.” His mom said, a teasing undertone in her voice.

“Mikasa has always been protective and she…well she feels guilty over what happened. I don’t know how to make her understand that none of this is her fault.” He sighed; with the book he was reading now forgotten across his lap.

“She’s a caring girl, that one. I am sure she will understand eventually. But for now, just be grateful that you have someone like her in your life, Jeanbo.”

Jean stayed quiet, taking in her words, and then shook his head. “I’ll also be grateful when you stop calling me that and never mention that Mikasa’s my new mom again.”

“You’re right. I think daughter-in-law is more fitting.”

“MOM!”

He was only met with endless laughter.

It was an extraordinary thing, the solace one could find just by having another person close. Mikasa learns it through the easy rhythm they fall into in the kitchen, the little talks over the table, when they relax in the backyard, with their clothes loose due to the summer heat and faces flushed by the sun; through the endless stories he has from his travels, the concentration in his face when he’s sketching, or just the simple knowledge that he is here, living and breathing. Despite the guardedness that he still shows around her, the glimpses that she does get of his mind make her want to see the world through his eyes. She has always said that the world is cruel and beautiful, but when he is here, she can only see beauty.

There’s a glint in his hazel eyes when he tells her about the places they have been to that brings her an odd type of comfort. It’s one of the many quirks and details she notices about him. Their routine makes it impossible not to notice small details about each other.

He notices that she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s embarrassed, she notices how the warm honey hues of his eyes can change color depending on the lighting, he notes the secret dimple on her left cheek if she smiles enough, she sees the way he scratches his ear when thinking hard about something, he’s transfixed by how much her grey eyes remind him of passing clouds, and she discovers that there are more scatterings of freckles and moles on his neck and arms.

This last detail she discovers during the daily procedure of changing his bandages. As former soldiers, they have found themselves in similar situations before. But the horrors of war are not around them anymore; now it’s just the both of them in the quietness of her house.

It takes great patience to convince him to let her help him, his protests that he can do it himself eventually drowned out. But when he bares his chest and the map of scars adorning it, she sometimes wonders if this was a good idea at all.

“Gruesome, huh?” He tells her one day, avoiding her eyes as his buttoned shirt lays open.

Mikasa snaps out of her stupor, immediately frowning. “Not at all, I’ve seen worse.”

She goes on to remove the bandages, trying not to wince along with him, as if she could feel his pain somehow. The sighs that escape him as she cleans and rubs the ointment on his wounds make the hairs at the back of her neck rise. There is an inevitable shyness when she sees the toned muscles of his chest and abs, when she visually traces the constellations of freckles and moles that dot the planes of smooth skin, when she sees the beauty that lays under the vestiges of war.

“Will I live to see my grandchildren, Nurse Ackerman?” Jean teases as she finishes up the task.

“Only if you behave, Mr. Kirschtein.” She teases back, pressing down the last new bandage, right over his heart.

Yes, she could get used to this.

It is easy and comforting, their new routine. They fall into it so naturally that they can almost ignore the cracks in the picture.

Almost.

Perhaps they were too hopeful or too confident that they wouldn’t have to hear each other’s night terrors, but that illusion breaks one night in which Mikasa’s screams fill the house.

Jean sat upright in his bed, having just woken up from his own nightmares, with every scream sending a dreadful shiver down his spine.

Nightmares were his nightly companions, and he and all his friends had become quite familiar with each other’s screams. The thought that Mikasa had to go through her nightmares alone pained him. The screams continued until he could not stand it anymore and walked out despite the tremors that were still shaking his body, reaching her room in no time. Her hands were tearing at her hair, and she was screaming Eren’s name in one instance while in another she was wailing for her mother and father.

“Mikasa, wake up!” He held both of her hands tightly while she still trashed around. After a while, her screams had been reduced to small, broken whimpers. Under his tight hold she opened her eyes abruptly - her confusion clear amongst endless tears, and she suddenly grabbed Jean forcefully by his neckline as if he were a stranger.

“It’s me Mikasa, it’s me.” Jean whispered shakily, an unbearable tension passing between them before he slowly pries her hands off him.

“Jean?” Mikasa croaked, her voice hoarse from her screams. “I’m s-I’m so sorry, Jean.”

She could barely finish her sentence before she started sobbing, loud and broken. He remained rooted in his spot, at a loss on what to do and trying to ignore his own tremors, watching the woman he loved and the former soldier he had admired for so long cry her heart out, now listening instead to the cries of a little girl still calling for her parents.

He snapped out of his daze when she grasped at his shirt as if he were a lifeline in a sea of tears. When she turned to look at him, he wondered if it was possible to have your heart torn in two just over looking at another person’s face. She looked so broken that he wanted to somehow gather her inside his heart and let her remain there for as long as she wanted.

“Wh…w…” She tried to make out amongst her whimpers.

“Easy, easy, you’re okay now,” Jean told her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “What were you trying to say?”

“Why…why does it hurt so much?” She fixed him with her swollen eyes, “Why does it still hurt?”

He wished he had an answer to that. Even after all these years, he didn’t think the pain would ever really stop. So, he thinks he owes it to her to be honest.

“I don’t know, Mikasa.” He said, his voice breaking a little.

She pressed her forehead to his chest, still crying. He takes that as a cue and gently pulls her to him, an embrace that she quickly returns in such a way that they don’t know who is comforting who.

He thinks they must have remained like that for a good while, with him rocking her gently in his arms like a child while she grasped his lower back, trying to stop the tremors that were still shaking him.

The whimpers quiet down, and the tension in her body loosens, so he laid her down on the bed and waited for her to fall asleep. He made shushing noises while stroking her hand, noticing the signs of exhaustion taking over. She is looking at him with a dazed expression before tightening her hold on him.

“Jean?”

“What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?” She asks, her voice sleepy.

In any other occasion, he would have promptly denied her, deeming it too improper. But watching that look on her face and remembering the terrors that would still await him back in his room made him lose all sense.

Just one night. At least just one.

He gulped and nodded, moving to climb in and get under the covers. The immediate warmth that they feel is overwhelming, and they scramble to get closer as if each other’s touch will be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

She listened to his heartbeat, its steady pulse lulling her to sleep. His tremors died down under the gentle press of her hand, and he followed her into slumber soon after.

They have their first sleep without nightmares in years.

The moment when she wakes up in the morning is less peaceful in a way. Mikasa shoots up in her bed, feeling an onslaught of confusion and mortification when she remembered what happened.

Jean is fast asleep, his face relaxed and somehow younger, with his arm thrown over her lap. That usual subtle guardedness that he shows now completely shed.

The sight makes her heart hammer wildly and a strange warmth spreads in her chest. Before she can dwell on it or on how much she actually liked having him pressed against her, she bolts out of her room.

She doesn’t really know where she is going but she knows she must get out of there. The cold morning air greets her as she runs out of the house, running and running until she stops, gasping for breath and resting her hands on her knees.

Mist is rolling on the gravel road, revealing the scattered houses of the village in all their simpleness. She lets the coldness settle in, obliterating the heat that had overtaken her.

This was completely unexpected, and she knew it made no sense for her to react this way when she had been the one to coax him into her bed. Yet, she also knows there’s only so much sense you can have after nightmares like theirs. It was expected that they would eventually give in to that urgency, that need to cling to each other.

A flock of birds snaps her out of her thoughts, the group flying and dipping by her house before disappearing into the nearby woodland. Soon the whole village would be waking up, and she couldn’t stay here only wearing her nightshift. She wraps her arms around herself - a futile attempt to warm herself against the cold morning air and makes her way back to the house.

The smell of coffee invades her senses when she steps in, and she sees him in the kitchen, already pouring coffee into two cups.

There’s a hint of relief in his face when he notices her, and she swallows down whatever embarrassment she still feels and greets him as usual.

He greets her back, going on to ask her what they should make for breakfast. In that way, their shyness lays forgotten and what happened earlier remains unspoken.

Their routine for the day remains as usual, and the end of their errands sees them relaxing in her backyard like always, lazily talking about nothing and everything.

When night falls, they’re ready to face whatever horrors await them in their sleep again.

This time, Mikasa is in what appears to be a forest, and it doesn’t take long before she notices that Eren is walking ahead of her. She tries to reach him, but he only drifts away further, occasionally looking back at her, green eyes glinting as if he’s playing a game with her.

The further he gets, the more desperate she becomes. She calls his name, but he gets even further away from her. Always far away, always unreachable.

Soon the woodland disappears, and a steep precipice appears ahead, but Eren doesn’t stop walking. She feels as if her feet are shackled while trying to reach him, and she cries out his name brokenly as he plunges down the precipice and disappears.

Instead of screams, she wakes up with cold shivers and a lump in her throat. Her body is pulled taut like a bowstring as she struggles to gain her breath back, trying to blink away her tears. Her only company was the shadows cast upon her room.

But she then remembered that she wasn’t alone, not exactly. In another corner of her house, Jean was slumbering, probably fighting off his nightly terrors as well. It was a never-ending cycle, and yet she can’t pretend to not remember the remedy they had found against their demons: each other.

Mikasa had always put on a hard front to everybody, but she is tired, so very tired; she doesn’t want to hide or even think logically anymore. And so, ignoring all sense she stands up and makes her way to his room, her steps only a whisper against the wooden floor.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw him sitting up in his bed already, though he didn’t seem to have noticed her, looking disconcerted. In the dim light, she can see that he is paler than usual and that his eyes are wide with unshed tears. He seems to finally recognize her as she reaches for him and gently wipes away the moisture that was beginning to spill down his cheeks.

There is an unfathomable look on his face as she soothes him, and when she asks a silent question with her own red-rimmed gaze, he pauses and then moves to open the covers for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to climb in.

***

There was childish laughter coming from the large yard.

It was a comforting sight, watching the children of the orphanage go about their day, playing their little games.

Jean could barely remember the time when he was that carefree and innocent, he pondered as he walked with Armin around the establishment.

“Until wintertime then?” He asked, not knowing how to take the information.

“That’s what I’ve been told. They will pick delegates to go to each of the allied nations. Whoever remains here is still unclear.” Armin said as he walked, looking at Jean’s tired expression and keeping a close watch on Jean’s steps as he balanced himself on a cane. He rarely used it but since he had insisted that he was ready to attend meetings he started bringing it with him, the constant walking and touring taking its toll on his body.

It had been common knowledge that they would need representatives in every nation, but the fact that there was already an established time for him to possibly leave Paradis took him by surprise. There were still months left for winter, and he still hadn’t made up his mind on whether he wanted to stay or leave.

They stopped in a far corner, with Jean leaning against the wooden fence, recalling a distant memory of when he was younger and stood here with his friends. In the distance, they noticed Mikasa walking in the grassy area, inspecting a group of kids who were playing on some swing sets. She noticed both of her friends watching and they waved at each other before she focused back on the children.

“She’s been quite active here,” Armin observed.

“And yet she still feels guilty for some reason,” Jean said, fishing around his pockets until he found what he was looking for.

Armin narrowed his eyes as he watched Jean lighting up a cigarette. His friend noticed him and groaned. “What? I’ve had to deal with Mikasa scolding me already, you’re going to lecture me as well?”

“You’re still recovering from a punctured lung, Jean.”

“I’ve dealt with worse things,” Jean mumbled, exhaling puffs of smoke. He knew his friends were right, but he couldn’t help it.

He sighed and took another drag. “So, tell me about this airshow, will you? What exactly are they planning?”

“I don’t have anything to do with it, but every delegation is expected to attend of course. The Yeagerists have made sure to spend every penny on the ceremony.” Armin said as he also leaned back against the fence.

Jean snorted. “This whole thing feels like a circus, it won’t be long before they go back on their word, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps, but in the meantime, we do what we can, and what we must. Even the Yeagerists know that we have to depend on each other. Right now, we focus on peace.”

Paradis too was struggling to rise back up, with its damaged borders and the destruction of the ecosystems around the world leading to severe droughts, forest fires, and famine. If the rumbling had gone any further, there was no chance they would have survived. Currently, every country was struggling with the reforestation of their lands and developing new technologies to battle the climate crisis. The treaty would be a milestone in that direction.

“Peace is only relative,” Jean remarked.

“Of course, but we must leverage that peace, be it relative or not. I will always condemn what Eren did, but I think he would want us to take advantage of whatever chances we can take.”

“It’s not like he left us much choice,” Jean spat, and then gave a tired sigh. “But whatever is best for us, I will vouch for that and support you along the way.”

“I know you will,” Armin said, bumping Jean’s shoulder and taking in the circles under his eyes. “I don’t want you to strain yourself too much though. If you can’t attend the ceremony, I will excuse you.”

Jean shook his head, exhaling another puff of smoke. “I will be there. I won’t give those assholes the pleasure of not attending.”

Armin hummed in response. “I hear that there are many other events planned beside the ceremony for the treaty. There are rumors that sweet Vera is coming here to perform.”

Jean looked elsewhere. “I heard that as well.”

Vera was a Marleyan singer and actress who quickly rose in fame all over the continent. Her advocate work with the Alliance was well documented, as she used her cultural influence to help gather supporters and fund numerous causes. Just as her charity work was well known, so was her affair with Ambassador Kirschtein.

He had been assigned to escort her to performances and public speeches linked to their cause. One thing led to another, and it was only a matter of time before they ended up tangled between the sheets. The prospect of seeing her made him feel strange but also happy, as despite their casual flings she had also been a good friend.

“Seem like Paradis is ready to deal with the outside world, and not just through treaties,” Armin remarked.

“Oh, they’ll love her for sure, she stole hearts whenever she went,” Jean said while taking another drag.

“Did she steal yours?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “No one stole anything, she and I made our boundaries clear before we started sleeping together. It was the same for all the other women I’ve been with. They took what they wanted, and I took what I wanted.”

“You think you will ever settle down?” Armin asked.

“I don’t know…especially not after…” Jean stopped himself. “Ah, never mind.”

“I’m all ears,” Armin said, looking at him expectantly.

Jean remained quiet for such a long time that Armin thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“I’m in love with Mikasa,” Jean finally admitted, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Armin replied, looking at him sympathetically. “Have you tried telling her?”

“What? No, I’ll never tell her,” Jean said, dropping the cigarette and crushing it. “She doesn’t see me that way and I respect that. I’m happy as her friend.”

“You don’t believe that.” Armin had an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh, but I do, the time I’ve spent with her… it has kept me sane in a way,” Jean told him, then shaking his head. “I’m so in love with her it feels ridiculous. I can’t even think about settling down with anyone else even if I know I have no chance with her.”

“Why do you think that? You claim to respect her, but are you really doing that when you don’t even bother to know what she thinks?”

Jean scoffed. “I don’t need to ‘bother’ because I already know what she thinks. Her heart belongs to Eren, that’s a simple fact.”

It was Armin’s turn to scoff. “Eren is dead, Jean. She killed him if I may remind you, and she has always been a full, stronghearted person outside of him. You may love and cherish a memory, but there’s only so much love you can give to a dead man.”

Jean could only look away, staying quiet. Armin followed his tired gaze and found unsurprisingly fixed on Mikasa, who was now spinning a little girl in her arms.

“You may not believe me, but I’ve never seen her this relaxed and happy, not even when we were children.”

“I want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“Well, she looks happier than ever to me, and it’s because of you.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you laugh, it’s just the truth. Take it from someone who practically grew up with her.” Armin insisted. “Besides, I don’t think I could make you laugh with that weary expression you’ve had all day. Have you even slept lately?”

“Mikasa kept me up last night,” Jean replied, before realizing what he said.

Armin looked embarrassed. “She…kept you up, huh?”

“Not that way I- for goodness’ sake, Armin! I would never take advantage of her like that!” Jean exclaimed, blushing furiously while Armin smirked.

“Care to explain then?”

“We…ah, we’re sharing a bed, it helps with our nightmares,” Jean explained, avoiding Armin’s curious look. “It’s just sleeping I swear, somehow…somehow it makes it easier.”

Armin nodded in understanding, thinking of the solace he and Annie had found with each other in a similar way, though it was also different since their ritual had quickly taken a much more physical level.

“You don’t have to reassure me of anything, whatever you guys do is none of my business,” Armin said. “And I know you would never take advantage of her.”

Jean said nothing, still looking at Mikasa in the distance.

“But I insist that you must be honest with her.”

“I don’t think so, Armin. Let’s leave it at that.” Jean tried to end the subject.

“I never took you for being such a pessimist. I thought you wanted to be with her since we were Scouts.”

“Even back then I was aware that there was no chance she would ever return my feelings. So, I kept my distance and ignored it. And I-well… I turned to other girls.”

Jean looked embarrassed but Armin nodded in understanding, remembering the times when Jean and Connie would come in late from having explored whatever town they were stationed in and all it had to offer. Their time in Marley had been similar in that regard, with Reiner occasionally taking part in their escapades.

“In that way, I thought I was over her for a long time. It was easy to get distracted by constant missions, carousing, and sex. I should have known my feelings would only come back stronger once I saw her again.” Jean continued, still looking ashamed. “I have accepted that I’m in love with her, but I have also accepted that I’m just her friend, and I’m happy to be that. Being by her side, that is more than enough for me.”

Armin looked at Jean and saw that he truly meant his words. While he felt bad for his friend, he also couldn’t help his frustration at his resignation.

“You make everything sound so hopeless.” The blond complained, leaning further into the fence.

Jean smiled sadly. “I am utterly hopeless when it comes to her,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

“You don’t have to get over it, you can simply love unapologetically. This world…us and our friends, we have seen too much misery. We owe it to ourselves to try and get some happiness, don’t we?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible… dreams, settling down, having a family, is it all worth it when we don’t know if this so-called peace will even last?”

Armin fixed him with his gaze. “It is worth it every bit,” he affirmed. “I have to believe that because…well, I want to tell you something.”

Jean looked at him curiously as Armin fidgeted with his hands. “I uh…I am planning to propose to Annie.”

A small silence passed between them before Jean’s face broke into pure happiness despite his tiredness.

“That’s-that’s amazing, Armin! I’m proud of you.” Jean said gleefully as he stepped forward to hug his friend tightly and pat his back.

“Hey! I haven’t even asked her yet and we don’t know if she’ll say yes!” Armin laughed, still hugging Jean back.

“Of course, she’ll say yes you idiot,” Jean said. “She looks at you as if the sun shines out of your ass.”

They both laughed before separating, still holding onto each other’s arms. “I don’t know how any of this works, but would you be my best man?”

Jean was already nodding before Armin finished his sentence. “Of course, of course, I’ll do it.”

“Good, because I have no idea what to do after I ask her.”

“And you think I do?” Jean countered, and they both laughed out loud again before continuing their walk, feeling much more at ease than before and enjoying the light breeze. There was still a lot of apprehension clouding Jean’s mind, but for now, he was glad that his friend wanted to take his chance at happiness. A glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty. For now, he could be happy about that.

***

The planes were flying at a safe distance, yet it felt as if they could graze the onlookers in a heartbeat. There was a cacophony of cheers, music, chatter, and roars from the planes that were flying overhead.

It seemed surreal that this was happening. It was almost as if all the hatred and tension that their visit had brought was broken, now replaced by celebration and merriment. The cheers came and went the same way the steel birds flew and dipped across the blue sky.

Jean had stood on the stage at the town square some hours ago, tall and defiant despite the scars he bore underneath his formal clothing and the cane that signified his survival.

His presence had given everyone much to talk about, some in puzzlement and others in admiration. He gave a speech with no problem and made sure to look at every Yeagerist official directly in the eye as they shook hands, silently telling them that this was his home.

Now he stood at the edges of the city that overlooked an extensive lake, watching with the members of the delegation as planes flew in unpredictable ways overhead, a sign of progress and more things to come.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the other delegations on the lower levels. Standing amongst the Hizurian delegation was Mikasa, who was also focused on the aerial spectacle while exchanging words with Kiyomi. Even with her small height the Hizurian diplomat still had an imposing presence whenever she went.

Almost as if Mikasa had felt the weight of his stare, she suddenly turned her head and found his gaze. Normally he would have been flustered but watching the smile that she gave him made him feel calm even in the middle of all the excitement that was happening around them. He smiled back before Kiyomi got her attention again and he turned back to the planes.

The sight of the planes flying and turning across the sky made him feel a small ache as he remembered Hange. He was sure the late commander would have loved this. Her excitement over all things unknown had left a huge gap amongst the former soldiers. Now all they could do was continue their endeavors for peace, just as she would have wanted.

He was hit by a barrage of memories as he watched, also wondering how Levi was faring while also finding reassurance in knowing that he was in good company and getting the rest he deserved. But just as he remembered past recollections, a small hidden memory surged up to the surface of his mind, now clear and prominent.

I liked you Mikasa, you know? I think I even loved you, since we were trainees.

No, it couldn’t be.

I wish he was here, I wish I could bring him back. I’m sorry I can’t do anything, I’m so sorry Mikasa…

The strange behavior Mikasa sometimes showed around him now made sense, and Jean suddenly felt as if he were about to vomit, his face blanching.

He had resolved to be Mikasa’s friend and not make things strange between them. But he had failed with flying colors.

With one last glance at Mikasa- who was still engaged in conversation, he backed away and left the compound, ignoring the questioning stares from his friends.

He walked as fast as he could even in his delicate state, immune to the fanfare around him and feeling absolutely mortified.

Way to go, dumbass.

#jeankasa #snk #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #hope all the tags work this time

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tears-and-lilies · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9 – welcome

This chapter means a lot to me. I play it in my head whenever I have trouble falling asleep, of when I just feel bad. From the beginning I knew I would write it down one day.

Tag: @whumpfigure; @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi; @green-eyed-whumpster; @liliability

CW: blood mention, but really just a fluffy chapter

***

Glorien was sitting in a tub filled with lukewarm water. He must be somewhere in the palace where only staff was allowed. The walls and furniture looked simple, without extra decoration. The room was messy enough itself, it didn’t need any. There were layers of fabric, sewing supplies, costumes and wigs scattered everywhere around the room. A woman was looking for some outfit in the other side of the room, throwing even more stuff on the chairs and tables in the process. Two others were cleaning him.

He closed his eyes as one of them cleaned the wounds on his back. The other one scrubbed his upper legs particularly rough. He groaned.

‘I’m sorry, are we hurting you?’, she asked.

Glorien shook his head and pulled his eyes open. The woman looked worriedly back.

‘Are you sure?’

He nodded. It was nice to have a bath, he had felt so filthy from the streets and the dungeon and the blood. He wished he could sit here forever, even if it did hurt a bit.

Yet they were done too soon, helping him out of the tub before drying him and covering him in a towel. They then let him to a chair, having put away the dress that was hanging there first. Glorien pulled the towel closer around him.

‘Look what I found!’ The woman at the back of the room proudly held up an outfit.

‘It only took you this long.’

‘Aha! So we still have the outfits for the younger dancers!’, the woman who had spoken earlier said, ignoring the sneering comment of her colleague. ‘Are you dry, honey?’

Glorien nodded. It was getting cold under the towel. He stood still as they put on the clothing. It was a short chiton, fastened at the shoulder by pins. They fastened a thin black belt around his waist. It was a light garment, and Glorien still felt cold. He didn’t say anything though, and sat down again as one of them took some tools from a box and sat on the ground next to him.

‘I’m going to be careful, okay? It might hurt a little bit at first, but it gets better, I promise. Just sit back and relax.’ She poured some hot wax on his leg and pulled it off with a strip. He flinched.

Another of them took his hand. ‘Let me clip your nails, honey’, she said, and smiled at him. Her smile seemed so genuine, Glorien felt himself smile back at her softly.

‘You have a cute little beauty mark there’, she said and playfully touched the spot next to the left corner of his mouth.

‘Eh, thanks’, he murmured, suppressing the urge to touch the spot too.

It was pretty comfortable here, being cleaned. They waxed his legs, clipped his nails, smeared a crème on his back, combed his hair, and even gave his shoulders a massage. Finally he relaxed a little, allowing himself to lean comfortably back in the chair. He had missed this feeling so much. The loved their flowery scent, and the warm hands that touched him carefully.

He was surprized when he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He was crying a lot lately. This wasn’t like him. He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

‘What’s wrong?’, one of the women asked.

Glorien shook his head.

‘Are you hungry? Wait, take a cookie.’ She took a plate and held it in front of him. On the plate lay raisin cookies.

Glorien didn’t like raisins, but his stomach growled at the sight of food. Edible food, not the scraps they had fed him in the dungeon. Hesitantly, he grabbed one, looking at the woman to see if he was allowed. She smiled back, the same way she had smiled before. He took a small bite, and another one, and another one, savouring the taste of sugar. He felt like a child, but it didn’t matter right now. He enjoyed this.

The guard walked in, checking in on them. He blinked at the scene before him.

‘Why are you feeding him cookies? He’s supposed to be dead, and you’re feeding him cookies?’

The women looked at each other. Glorien quickly shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth, afraid the guard would take it away from him. It was an irrational thought, but he couldn’t be sure.

‘Sorry. We won’t do it again’, the woman with the kind voice said.

The guard snorted. ‘How long will it take?’

‘We’re almost done.’

He nodded and walked out of the room. As soon as he was gone, the woman took the plate again.

‘Want another one?’

***

When they were done, the kind-voiced woman led him through the hallways. The guard followed them from a distance.

The woman was carrying a laundry basket with bed sheets. Glorien kept glancing at it, trying to guess where he was going to be taken to next. He hoped they would leave him alone. The tension had mostly gone. Now he was just exhausted.

‘Don’t be so nervous, I’m taking you to your new bedroom. You can even choose your bed, how does that sound?’, she said, putting an arm over his shoulders.

Glorien didn’t understand. Choose his bed?

‘I’m sure you’ll like it. My name is Berta, by the way. I’m always happy to welcome new entertainers.’

They stopped before a double door. The woman – Berta – let him in first before she followed. Glorien curiously looked inside, but froze as eleven people looked back at him.

‘So! This is the dancer’s dorm room! You can come here to relax when you don’t have practice or shows’, Berta said.

The room was rather plain. Light shone through the three windows onto the white walls, where and there, paint was coming off. There were two rows of seven beds, parallel to each other. Some dancers were sitting on their beds, standing around, and one was sitting on a chair by a window. They were curious as to who this new dancer was.

‘There are three beds free. Which one do you want?’, Berta asked him.

Two of the three were close to the doors, next to each other in the row on Glorien’s right side. He shuffled towards the one at the end of the row.

Berta wasn’t too happy about his choice. ‘No, honey, I can’t let you sleep so separated from the rest of the group! Take the bed next to it then’, she said. ‘Who threw their stuff on the bed? Can that person put it elsewhere so the new boy can sleep on that bed?’

The girl sitting on the third bed in the row stood up and began cleaning up her stuff, when another one spoke.

‘He can have the bed next to me.’

Glorien turned his head towards the girl sitting by the window, but was taken aback by the grave expression on her face. Her dark eyes scanned his figure before they met his. He looked away.

‘That’s very nice of you, Aurora.’ Berta walked to the bed in question. It was two beds removed from the windows on the other side of the room, the other end of the same row. Glorien followed.

‘What’s his name? Where’s he from?’, someone asked.

Glorien stiffened. They didn’t know who he was yet.

‘Glorien, son of Darren, will take the pain so many have suffered. I hope, citizens of Koia, that this will be the retribution you were due!’

They didn’t have to know who he was. It was better if they didn’t. So he said nothing.

Berta smiled. ‘I think he’s tired. Honey, will you help making your bed?’

After the task was done, Berta picked up the empty laundry basket and walked towards the door. Glorien heard himself whine softly.

Don’t leave me here.

‘You can rest now. Tomorrow we’ll see you again after breakfast. I’m sure I can count on your colleagues to help you find the kitchen.’ She turned her head towards a blond guy. The guy nodded in response.

‘Of course, we’ll help him!’

‘That’s nice of you. Oh, one last thing: there will always be a guard outside. He’ll follow you wherever you go, until it’s not needed anymore. These are orders of the Emperor.’ Berta lost her smile for a moment, and sighed. ‘Anyway, good luck!’

And like that, he was left on his own in a foreign room, filled with strangers. He cringed at their curiosity. As fast as he could he went to bed and pulled the sheets over his head. He curled into a ball and pushed his eyelids close. He could hear the others talk. He wanted to be alone.

#whump #though more fluff actually #oc #my writing #glorien #of course it's better in my head than when i write it down #:(

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neohighwayv · 4 years

Text

Ships that pass in the night

Characters: NCT Dream Renjun x fem reader

Genre: ghost!au, strangers!au (but it’s not horror – I promise)

Word count: 1.6k

Description: Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is often meant to refer to people who meet for a brief but intense moment, only to part, and never see one another again.

Author’s note: Inspired by a module that I took last semester on ghosts and spirits, I hope you enjoy the non-traditional take I took on the idea of ghosts! :)

Credits: @hoodedsuns for the inspiration on the title and description!

------

Renjun might have left this world a little too soon for his liking but even in his passing, he does his best to continue being the boy that lights up the world. Being dead doesn’t mean he has to stop spreading kindness and positivity in this world.

He lingers around the school campus that he attended before the terrible accident that took away his life one winter night, looking out for students that might need help. He mostly does small little things that won’t draw the attention of anyone, unless you’re purposely looking out for it. Renjun has left countless notes of encouragement on the belongings of struggling students, something that all of them write off as an act of kindness from a stranger when they weren’t looking. Well, they’re technically not wrong... but they’re only half right. Renjun was no ordinary stranger – he was a ghost.

Wandering along the hallways in the evening when most students have already left for home, a lone, lit classroom naturally draws his attention. Peering in through the small window by the door, Renjun notices you bent over the small table, scribbling away furiously on your notes as you bunch your hair up with your other hand. You let out a small sigh of annoyance as you erase your math equation for the 10th time, your patience slowly ebbing out of you as the frustration mounts. Your eyes are burning and the stabbing pain at the right side of your brain just won’t go away. Pressing a hand to your head, you decide that this is it for the night. You’ll deal with that one annoying question that you can’t get right when the sun rises tomorrow. The stabbing pain that has now intensified makes you bristle with anger, and you proceed to shove your stationary into your pencil case as you slam your math textbook shut, both you and Renjun jumping at the unexpectedly loud sound. You’re clearly stressed out, and even Renjun can see that. Renjun wonders what he can do to make you feel better and he catches sight of the acrylic charm of a cat that hangs from your bag, as well as your lock screen that shows a picture of the starry night sky. From this, Renjun gathers at least 2 things. One, you like cats and two, you like the night sky as well. Which is perfect for him honestly, because he’s able to make these 2 things happen.

Once you’ve decided on your route home, Renjun quickly passes through walls and classrooms as a shortcut to reach the school garden before you in search of the school’s resident black cat. He finds the adorable feline under her favourite bush, flicking her tail aimlessly with her eyes closed shut as she sleeps. Cooing at the cat, Renjun successfully catches the attention of the feline, whom now opens one eye lazily to regard Renjun. With the promise of food, she finally agrees to do Renjun’s bidding and walks right into your path to catch your attention. Renjun watches from the sideline as a huge smile stretches across your face, your phone quickly abandoned in favour of the cute feline now curled at your feet. From the side-lines, Renjun watches with a smile on his face as your smile now practically stretches from ear to ear as you play with the cat, especially loving it when she nudges her face into your palm, clearly wanting more affection and love from you. Renjun no longer had a beating heart nor could he feel physical warmth, but he was certain that if he could, his face would be heating up by now as his heartbeat speeds up. You mentally thank your lucky stars in your mind; you weren’t in the best mood, too troubled by not being able to get your math homework right so this furry therapy was exactly what you needed to make you feel better.

Standing just a few feet away from you (not that you can see him anyways), Renjun furrows his eyebrows as he taps his fingers against his chin: How does he get the perfect timing to have you look up at the night sky? Renjun looks left and right, pacing up and down before something rustling by the side of his eye catches his attention. Eyes darting over, he catches sight of the leaves rustling slightly as a light breeze sweeps through their gaps.

That’s it.

Moving to stand in front of you, Renjun conjures up a gust of wind from behind you, momentarily causing the leaves to rustle violently as your clothes billow around you. The sudden blast of cool air catches you completely off guard and you watch as your hairband unravels from the force of the sudden gale, and travels towards the night sky. You jump on the balls of your feet to catch it before it drops to the ground, and you nearly forget how to land properly.

“Wow.”

Eyes trained on the violet night skies that lay above, that was all you were capable of vocalising. You find yourself transfixed on the currently unravelling scene, various emotions thrumming through your veins as your bones buzz with excitement. It’s an emotion that comes from deep within the crevices of your body; one that is incomprehensible to the human mind, but entirely understood by the physical body. It’s the kind of emotion that sets every neuron on fire, searing this image into your mind for eternity.

A million stars dot the entire sky, each shining brightly like the crystals that hang from chandeliers in mansions against the backdrop of a violet and blue-black sky. Every inch of the sky is covered by the stars, and you swear that you’re looking at this very moment, is the entire galaxy that has always stay hidden to the human eye. Never in your life have you ever lay eyes upon such a sight – you’ve only seen them in books or documentaries, when they discuss what the skies will look like without all the light pollution from humans. You always felt a little sad when they repeated that point, wondering endlessly about the time you will get a chance to see this magnificent sight, a dream that seemed even further away because you live in the city. But here you are in this moment, laying your eyes upon this sight you’ve only ever dared to dream of seeing. You’re so overwhelmed by this feeling of happiness that you even forget about the absurdity of the situation – that was honestly the furthest thing on your mind right now. The stars all vie for your attention, but you take your time to slowly admire them instead. With not a single cloud in the sky, you get an unobstructed view of the galaxy above you, and you take your time to let your eyes wander around the night sky, trying to soak in every detail of it. Renjun stands close by as you continue to gaze in amazement at the majestic sight above you, watching your eyes shine as they reflect the universe above you. With each soft exhale that you release, you feel the tension being expelled from your body. You honestly never thought that one day you’ll be able to see this view but it is happening right before your very own eyes, and you count it as an immense blessing to be able to witness this sight at least once in your entire lifetime. Who knows when you’ll get to see this again – if ever?

“Whoever it is, be it down here or up there, thank you. Thank you for allowing me to experience this wonder, and for making me happy.”

Renjun hears you loud and clear, and he beams at your heartfelt words. He knows that you’re not aware that this was all his doing – so you’re not really thanking him specifically – but he still smiles at the sweet thought, simply because it’s heart-warming to know that someone still remembers to give thanks for the little things in life that they’re grateful for. Slowly, the effects of his magic wear off and the stars dim till they were before, clouds now hanging in the skies again. Only now are you willing to let your eyes drop to the earth beneath you, a small smile continuing to grace your face as your ears lift in joy, working hard to calm your heart it comes down from it’s previous high. When you turn in his direction and stare for a prolonged period of time, Renjun freezes in his spot, worried that you might actually be able to see him. He breathes a sigh of relief when you bend down to beckon the black cat beside him to you, realising that you only stared because his feline friend was right beside him. Renjun lingers for a few more moments, until you bid the cat goodbye with a scratch under her chin and he makes sure you’re on the bus safely before he turns to leave.

Like ships that pass in the night, what transpired between the two of you will never happen again. Just like how two ships will never pass one another again in the vast ocean, you and Renjun will never find one another again in this sea of people. You’ll remember this night forever; for an act of kindness from a stranger is always the most memorable – they genuinely give without expecting anything in return, wanting nothing more than to help make your day a little better. Like the ships that send encouragement through their shining lights over the cold, violent seas, these kind strangers choose to bring some hope into your life by sending you their best wishes through their actions, sincerely wishing you the best despite knowing nothing about your story.

Constants may always be better than a fleeting stranger, but these acts of kindness from a strangers are just as strong in the spirit of love and giving – strong enough to move sturdy mountains, make the winds howl and quell the violent seas.

Like the ships that pass in the night, you are never truly alone in the world.

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sunsiac · 5 years

Text

king and queen / jaehyun [7]

genre: murder mystery, romance, angst

member: jaehyun

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none

summary: a young prince and a knight’s daughter are an unlikely pair, but nonetheless, these two were attached at the hip as children. Without any royal duty or stress, it proved to be an unexpected yet beautiful friendship. even as they grew up together, they only developed to be more inseparable. they proved this when she, hakyeong, turned 16, and he, jaehyun, gave her one of the most precious gifts he could; both of their first kisses. but it was bad timing. their respective responsibilities dawned on them quicker than they would’ve imagined, forcing them to grow apart. 5 years later, both of them 21, meet again after jaehyun’s older brother who is about to be crowned king is found dead. A string of murders throughout the castle forces them to come together and find the one behind it before one of them is next.

—

HAKYEONG:

When our dorm room began to tint with the first signs of sunlight, I slid out of bed. I’d been up practically all night, incapable of putting my concerns, or even myself, to bed. There were hours spent pacing around wherever I could; the halls, the dorm, even the courtyard if I let myself.

Because, even though everybody else was at ease now that there was a suspect, I was on my toes. It still made sense for me to be anxious. Someone had hidden so well that even the council couldn’t find them, and they’d blamed me. I was the last person anybody would think to expect, but the plan had still worked? It blew my mind and broke my heart at the same time.

Careful not to wake Eunhye, I peeked outside the door and looked either way down the hall. I knew that it was a risk going out this early when I was still the one in question for Hyeonsik, but I couldn’t force myself to stay in that room any longer.

When I completed that not a soul was present, I slipped out and shut the door quietly behind me as not to wake others rooming nearby. Since the council released me as a suspect, hours and numbers had loosened for everyone. And without them, the halls were deathly empty. But maybe that was a good thing. I would be back into my dorm room if that weren’t the case.

I let out a sigh as I stood anxiously, looking up and down the hallways that seemed to stretch for miles in both ways. My first instinct told me to walk around for a little until the sun had risen, but I couldn’t do that anymore.

Still, there’s no way anyone will see me this early in the morning.

It was like a devil and an angel on my shoulder as I peered down the still-dark hall. But I ended up concluding that it was still too early to run into anyone else in the halls. I had a place in mind, too, and it was close, so it didn’t seem like all that bad of a plan.

I bit my lip, taking one last glance back and forth. Ah, whatever. I’m doing it.

When I reached the courtyard, it became easy to release the tension I was carrying. It seemed stupid to even think, but I was over the moon I could have even the smallest amount of time to myself with no stares.

The sunlight was brighter in the courtyard than it was in the halls, but it was still a lovely early morning kind of dim. It bathed the yard in a vast yet golden hue that most people would associate with the sunset. From this limited look alone, I could tell I preferred it more than in the afternoon. I exhaled as I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at an adjacent plot of purple gardenias. They were lovely, but I’d never seen them before.

I guess they still have the time to plant new flowers in the middle of this.

I let out a soft laugh in disbelief as I stretched my arms out, loosening up a bit before walking over to my normal spot. I had to turn a few corners and wind through a few flowers patches to get to it, but it was worth it. This space had the only marble bench in the entire courtyard, but what made it special to me was what he had carved into it.

“Hey, I’m curious; What’s your favourite part of the castle to visit? You’re here all the time, so you must have one,” Jaehyun had asked me this once when we were just reaching 16. I remember the casual way he’d asked it, hands stuffed inside the pockets of his slacks as we sat under an old willow tree.

I bit my lip at his question, having never thought about it much. I was at a loss of an answer until I looked up at the branches hanging down in front of me, my answer coming to me immediately. “I like the courtyards,” I’d said, his expression unchanging as I continued. “They’re nice to be in, you know? Especially because they’re so pretty.”

I’d found out two months later after the occasional question, he’d put a plaque into a bench I’d described to him in the courtyard.

“It’s the only marble bench in the whole courtyard, I’m sure,” I’d explained, making him smile. “And it’s right by a pond? With flowers? And a tree? It’s like a scene from a fairy tale. I love it.”

The plaque had nothing to do with me particularly, the words on it saying, ‘for this castle’s Cinderella.’

It was something so small, but I still smiled about it even today.

When I began to go around the same huge willow tree that stood tall there, I found myself strangely eager to find the bench again. At least, until I noticed someone already sitting there. They were deathly still, startling me into taking a hesitant step back.

But I immediately relaxed when I noticed who it was. His light brown hair was a little messy, his bangs pulled back and the ends curling up slightly as if he’d gotten out of bed only minutes ago. Which I’d deemed was likely.

Even his clothes, they were casual. Not something a prince should ever wear outside his chamber. Thoughts raced through my head as I tried to decide if I should find somewhere else, or if I should brave it and go up and sit next to him. I figured the second option would be awkward since the council had accused me of being a suspect for his brother’s murder. Not to mention that since I hadn’t talked to him in years. But I hoped that he didn’t believe in the rumours that were flying around. I hoped that a sliver of him still believed in me. Yet, I backed up, deciding I was too afraid to ask him for myself.

I didn’t get far before a voice asked, “Why are you up?”

I wanted to pretend I didn’t hear it, the invitation to have a conversation seeming too menacing. I hesitantly looked back towards the man, kind of relieved to see that he hadn’t even moved. He still stared at the still waters in front of him, looking almost transfixed.

I took this as an opportunity to take a few steps away, hoping that I could still slip away before he said anything else. But I didn’t get too far before he picked his head up, his dark eyes piercing mine.

I still stood my ground as I straightened up, avoiding his eyes by looking at the water. I understood why he seemed so infatuated with it, especially at this time of day. In the afternoons, usually depending on the positioning of the sun, you could see every nook and cranny the small body of water offered. But, like now, it was the opposite. The water was ambiguous. You could see a lot of things, plants, even the slight peek of animals, but it was dark. You could only see a few feet down, and it was oddly fascinating.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I explained softly, taking into account how his brows furrowed at my formal tone. I hated to use formal tones with him, to be nervous to respond, even when I wanted to respond casually. But I couldn’t help being nervous around him, because I didn’t know what he thought yet.

But, to my surprise, he didn’t react harshly to it. He just stared at me for a few more seconds, blinking tiredly before nodding and turning forward again.

“But you don’t look like you got much sleep, either,” I pointed out softly, daring to even do so. Once again, he said nothing, just shrugging lamely.

My eyes wandered back up to him again. He looked so detached, even now. And I felt bad. I felt especially bad, too, because I knew Hyeonsik’s death was causing all this. And I knew he most likely thought it was me who had done it.

But he began to laugh. It was a soft, short sound, but it was still enough to make me look over at him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, blinking.

“I didn’t. I guess that makes two of us,” he replied, ignoring my question altogether as his lips curved up into a small smile.

I couldn’t help smile back, my thoughts finally starting to lag with sleep. it’s always at the wrong times.

At least, this did finally give me the excuse to leave. But before I could say anything, he asked me, “Hakyeong, do you remember when I brought you with me to one of my training sessions? Do you remember how hard it was for you?”

The random question caught me off guard but I still nodded. That time, he had tried to teach me how to use throwing knives. But we both deemed it might as well be impossible for me to learn when I couldn’t even hold a knife correctly.

“But, I guess that’s a dumb thing to ask. You’ve probably practised with knives since then, right?” He said this before I could answer, hanging his head again, sounding almost disappointed.

I knew it would be better for me to say, ‘Jaehyun, it’s been 7 years. I have.’ But then I would be lying.

“I do offence work,” I admitted, almost nervous to correct him. “Since I use swords, I need not practice with knives.”

He looked up at me, an unexpected look flashing through his eyes.

“You’re a swordsman?” He asked, getting a hesitant nod from me. He was suddenly smiling again. It was an insignificant thing, but he still seemed strangely grateful for my answer.

“That’s right. I guess you never have been good with knives.” He nodded, almost as if he was saying this to himself.

“Yes, but what are you trying to get at?” I asked, still genuinely confused at where he was trying to take the conversation.

“It’s nothing.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

I could feel my skin flushing in embarrassment, but I tried to laugh it off to the best of my ability. “It’s no big deal. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here so early.”

He asked, “Do you do this a lot? Wake up early?”

“What I do a lot is stay up. But, now I have to wait until sunrise to come out,” I said, the atmosphere almost dropping immediately at my words.

“Why?” he asked curiously. “Why do you have to wait?”

I got silent at that, unsure of how to answer. But, I didn’t know how else to say it. “It’s just, it still feels dangerous to be out at night when there’s still a killer on the loose,”

His expression was unchanging, but I could tell that my words had still affected him. I couldn’t tell where he stood on this yet, but I was too afraid to ask at this point.

To my surprise, he did nothing but nod, looking at the ground as he mumbled thoughtfully. “Be careful, Hakyeong. Two deaths would be hard for anyone to handle,”

I felt a huge sense of relief flood through me at his words, but I couldn’t find the right words. So I just settled for a nod and smiled.

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

He looked up to me, replicating my smile. But I did not notice when it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

#neowritingsnet #nct #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #Jaehyun au #its been months but here I am 😘#nct 127 #Jaehyun fluff #Jaehyun angst #Jaehyun imagine #nct imagine #nct 127 imagine #kpop #my writing #jimin-osamu

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momijis-sunglasses · 5 years

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so in my post-first-two-episodes-of-furuba glow, I went home and watched the first episode of the 2001 anime again.

hoo boy.

it was FASCINATING.

it’s definitely become a little more common for the same story to receive multiple adaptations. but here we have two first episodes that cover the exact same chapter in the manga, end on the same story hook, and even have plenty of similar shots. but the overall impression and tone is incredibly different between the two. and it’s so revealing for why i’m optimistic about the new anime and have big issues with the 2001 adaptation.

SPOILERS

-the 2019 anime has the huge benefit of knowing the entire story. starting out with a flashback to the bond first being created between god and the animals is a great idea. it gets a hint of the supernatural in there early for new viewers, and it’s giving you a visual metaphor (the ropes aka literal bonds) of one of the key themes of the series. the new anime is being made with the awareness of the rest of the series, and that’ll improve things so much. they’re already really teasing the hat, and even kyo’s beads. it’s nothing too overt, just little nudges at the viewer that serve as a fun thing for existing fans and ways to tease the mystery for new fans.

-the scene where Tohru first finds the house and meets Shigure have very, very similar scripts between both versions. and I wish I had the new version in front of me right now because I can’t provide specific examples of why this is -- but I was left with a much more natural impression from the new version. the directing is just better. I think the 2001 anime has the problem of being too abrupt constantly. it’s like nothing’s given room to breathe. in the new anime, there’s a really nice transition into a flashback (lots of flashbacks in this episode haha) using the wind chime at Shigure’s to one at Tohru and Kyoko’s apartment. and actually going into the apartment gives the whole flashback a better sense of place. this is also where it starts being really apparent how much more static the old anime is. i do think they generally did the best with what they had, but there are more pans over still frames and the characters expressions are usually flat. the new anime is 1000% more dynamic.

-which also contributes to the comedy! there’s the same funny “what do you have in there, a dictionary?”/”two dictionaries” gag in both, but it lands better in the new anime. it’s more background chatter than anything, actually, so it feels more like incidental funny dialogue. like these people just banter and bug each other on the reg. the 2001 anime makes everything more slapstick and over the top, and 2019 tones it back to something more naturalistic. which i’m happy about, because when i think fruits basket, i think dry humor more than anything.

-also! eric vale! i’ve never blamed him for this, but his performance is sooooo much better in the new anime. he was definitely a newer voice actor (like a lot of the cast) when the 2001 anime came out, but I blame a lot of the issues I had with his performance before on the voice directing. there are so many times in the old episode where Yuki sounds straight up creepy. i don’t know if they were going for mysterious, but they didn’t get there that’s for sure. he’s more regular and a bit suave in the new one, which makes sense for this part of the story. yuki’s just like.. a huge improvement between these two versions. I always felt like the director of the 2001 anime didn’t get Yuki at all. like he thought he was actually a prince and also just wanted to make a cool character so girls would swoon and buy merch or w/e. I just want Yuki to get his due as a character, dammit!

-if you haven’t watched the original in a while and have hulu or netflix, fire that shit up because the transition to school is sooooo bad. first the prince yuki fanclub and their weird chant thing... and then uo and hana’s introduction is also super abrupt and we’re just firing through these scenes real fast. the new one has the same events happen, but again, it’s more natural. no weird chant! the prince yuki club has just cornered tohru in a hallway and are berating her. a boy even walks past and is like, “yikes, bullying.” because it totally is! the timing on uo and hana to the rescue is a lot better. and i think because of that, it allows the comedy more time to develop so that’s it’s actually funny and not just confusing. also all three of them feel more like comfortable friends. like we’re witnessing their usual dynamic. since the 2001 director was always going for comedy, it almost feels more like an interrogation in the old version.

-THIS! CHANGE! IS SO IMPORTANT! so the 2001 anime races through tohru telling us why she’s living in a tent. lightspeed. we have time for the prince yuki fan club chant, but we can’t spend too much time establishing the drama of the situation. in the 2001 anime, we transition to a literal slideshow basically recreating panels from the manga while tohru monologues over it about how her mom died in an accident but she wound up with her grandpa and he asks her to go live with a friend for a while. we all know the story. the new anime, on the other hand, transitions to an actual flashback, not a still image, of tohru as a kid balancing a checkbook while she explains how her dad passed away and her mom had a tough time all by herself. it’s really sad! and it’s so much more effective to show her as an actual kid worrying about money stuff and making dinner. they also showed a heap of blood instead of a car hitting a wall to represent kyoko’s death, which... woof. and then we get an actual scene of her grandpa asking her if she can stay with a friend. which, again, gives us more time to actually feel the situation she’s in. but also works so well because he phrases it as an option for her. he says he’s worried she won’t be comfortable stuffed into a small house with a ton of people so she might be happier staying elsewhere for a while. and then tohru, OF COURSE, takes that consideration and goes to live in a tent. the transition (which is different between the two) to tohru cleaning up a storm at her job was also a moment of genuine, sweet comedy.

-yuki talking to tohru on the way home is kind of interesting, since the two adaptations treat it in kind of opposite ways? in the 2001 anime there’s that ~mysterious~ music while he tells her random zodiac facts and then silent tension (which I actually quite like) when he gives her that enigmatic “it’s not that i don’t like all cats” look. in the new one it’s a more normal conversation? like they’re just chatting. and then it turns when she realizes there’s something more to it and the music got pretty intense and there’s A Moment. i think it’s less outright sinister in the new one. seriously, i’m waiting for 2001 yuki to start monologuing about his master plan to take over the earth any time.

-shigure laughing at tohru’s tent is straight up funnier in the new one. the timing is better. also his continued laughter and yuki’s little “oh you’re done now?” was really well handled. that joke falls flat in the old version.

-and i don’t know how they do it because, again, these episodes have the same runtime and cover the same material, but this whole scene definitely feels like it takes it’s more time in the new anime. it’s not overstaying it’s welcome or anything. it’s punchy and funny and i loved seeing the characters play off each other. but even shigure opening the door to reveal the gross kitchen is given more of a beat to it, so you have a second to laugh. and him hearing the dog howling isn’t the most awkward thing you’ve seen anymore.

-since we’ve had more time to understand tohru’s situation and even her mom (kyoko is finally allowed to be herself and not Cliche Dead Mom!) through flashbacks in the new anime, tohru clawing at the dirt to get the picture of her mom is actually pretty heart-wrenching. you get it more. everything she has in the world is in that tent and she doesn’t have anything but pictures to remember her mom by. this is what i’m so excited about in the new anime. if you give more time to build motivations and drama, because you understand that’s important to storytelling, then the emotional parts will hit that much harder

-tohru telling shigure about the day her mom died! I've always loved this scene, because it's one of the few times Tohru actually opens up to someone (who's not Kyo :P)about feeling crappy. amazing what a fever can do. these two scenes are so interesting, because they're actually really similar. we get the exact same info, and some of the shots of tohru lying on the futon are basically identical. but once again, the 2001 anime does a lot more telling us what happened. some shots are obvious budget-saving measures, like an extended shot of the paper wall/door with tree shadows waving. (what room are they supposed to be in?? for some reason, I always thought that was the kitchen) (actually the reason was all the rats are behind that door) (you KNOW there are rats in that kitchen) the 2019 anime, on the other hand, goes back to those old reliable flashbacks. we get a repeated (and longer) shot of kyoko going out the door, and you realize as the scene goes on and tohru explains she didn't even wake up to see her leave that morning, that it's an imagined scene or a memory of another day. which is... oof. make me feel all those feelings, please. we also get more actual kyoko dialogue, which is always a good thing.

-I also love yuki showing up after she's fallen asleep, having overheard anything, and saying he could've left the sohma compound to live in a tent. uh, I mean, I love it in the manga and the new anime. I won't put this on the original production staff and more on the original English dub, but oh boy is yuki kind of petulant and whiny in that scene. he sounds very petty and jealous and I don't like it. he's definitely envious of her to a degree (and beating up on himself), but he's also pretty in awe I think. ANYWAY I felt the new dub fixed this, so I wasn't like, what's your problem, dude?

-yuki and the rats is still weird lol (honestly being able to "communicate" with their animal is dropped so damn fast in the manga. I only like it for the payoff of the birds running away from kureno.)

-actually, one of the only things I prefer in the 2001 anime is tohru waking up to her mom's photo right next to the futon. I love the idea of yuki setting it up there real quietly while she sleeps, knowing it's the thing she was most worried about. so cute! but one point for the new dub: i'm assuming tohru says "oka-san" when she wakes up. since it's three syllables and zoomed in on her mouth they've changed(?) it to "I miss you" in English and just stab me right through the heart why don't you!!

-it seems like everyone's saying this, but that staircase scene! it's not even really a scene. but I love it! a cramped little switchback-y staircase. this show is making me feel like i'm IN shigure's house. it's also shot cool, and the reveal of kyo in the tree is great. I love that it's not pointed out so obviously, and he's just there. (it'd be hard to miss him though)

-then of course we end on kyo jumping through the whole damn roof (he really blasts through it in 2019 haha) and everyone turning into animals. no huge differences, but I want to fast forward a little to talk about kyo. jerry jewell may be the member of the returning cast who sounds the most "similar" to his old rendition of the character, HOWEVER. there's a huge change in acting and vocal direction. it might seem like a small change, but it's not! it's really big! in the 2001 anime he jumps through that roof and says a punny line (it would take kyo 6 months to come up with that lbr) and rah-rah rages through the next few episodes when he's not acting sheepish. now he sounds much less like he's just angry and more like he BLURTS things. a thought comes into his head and BLURT it's out of his mouth. because of the increased range in emotional expression on all their faces, we can see that he seriously feels guilty and conflicted about being mean to tohru. like there is some depth there to be mined. it's so much more obvious that the people around him can easily push him to the point of blowing up, and that he doesn't feel in control of himself. I give major props to the animation team, the anime director, and the dub director (I would trust Caitlin Glass with my actual life at this point) for pulling this off. because it seems subtle! but it really is a big difference!

I used to be a pretty staunch believer that we DID NOT need another anime adaptation of fruits basket. I know a lot of people wanted it, but I really never did. I love the manga so much, and think it's masterfully done. after the original anime, I didn't want more of it. mostly, because I didn't trust anyone to do it right. a lot of the changes made by the original anime may seem "small" to many people, but what makes furuba so great to me IS all those tiny nuances. change a tiny detail, and you may have changed the whole feel of a scene or an important interaction. the manga is pretty quiet, for most of it's run. little moments build up to create a big, beautiful tapestry. so I was happy reading my manga over again and not worrying about anyone else ever touching it to bring it to moving color.

so i'd say I was likely to be a harsh judge. and I was really, REALLY impressed with what they accomplished. i'm sure there'll be some decision I disagree with later. they'll cut some scene I love or i'll disagree with the emphasis on something somewhere. but they've really built up a lot of goodwill with me. I LOVED watching these characters on screen and seeing them interact. seeing them all eat around the table together felt like coming home. like settling down for another furuba reread.

and it's all the stuff above that made me feel that way. seemingly little tiny details and differences. again, we're talking about the exact same story! it's told with almost the same lines and the same characters and many of the same jokes. but it really felt different, because of small changes. and a much better understanding of what furuba is.

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket spoilers #furuba spoilers #text #a mountain of text i can't be stopped

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dunkjrk · 5 years

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oblivious i

pairing: don x y/n

word count: 1.5k (part one is v short yikes)

warnings: slaughterhouse spoilers, cursing, sex references and mentions of suicide

a/n: hI hELLO uHHh heres my attempt at writing for don bc wHATTA BEAN,, i hope i did his character justice!! if anyone’s read hades! michael you might recognize he recycled description of finn bc i can’t write descriptions for sHiT whoopS anyway,,, this’ll probably be up long after it’s been out but the spoiler warning still stands :)) also for anyone who doesn’t know what upper sixth is it’s the equivalent of a senior x

When the clicking of Mrs Wallace’s heels had drowned out, y/n was quick to jolt out of Don’s bed, clearing her throat.“Right, um I should probably get going too.” She mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the skirt hanging from her hips, and ignoring the heat rising on her cheeks under his intense gaze.“No!” He said, his voice raised slightly in protest as it cracked slightly due to his sudden shout, startling her and stopping her right in her tracks. “I mean, uh you should stay! Yeah you should stay, I’ll need someone to show me how to get to the main hall anyway.” He continued, trailing off with a sheepish grin.Y/n briefly glanced up at him, barely making eye contact before averting her gaze anywhere else but his. The faintest of smirks shadowed his lips at her actions, feeling a strong endearment towards the girl pretending to be oblivious to his stare by playing with the hem of her skirt. “I mean, that’s what I’m here for but don’t worry, I think she fancies you too.” Will interrupted with a wink. A knowing smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

y/n has a small crush on the new boy

She spotted him before he spotted her.

It was safe to say Y/n’s first meeting with Don didn’t go as smoothly as she would’ve hoped, and much to her dismay (and her best friend’s delight), Will relentlessly teases her about it.

Y/n knew full well she wasn’t supposed to be in the boys’ half of the dorms, let alone comfortably spread out in a deep sleep on the spare bed in Will’s room. It had never crossed her mind that the new term would most likely bring someone new in the use it, hence why she was woken up with a rough jab to her side, with a harsh whisper of ‘are you dead or something, fuckin’ wake up!’

Four sets of eyes watched her jolt from the bed, barely escaping slipping off the edge as she did. In her typical fashion, y/n had no only messed up again, but messed up on her first day back of school. A new record. Y/n had told her mum that this year she was going to put her head down and focus in school and starting sixth form seemed like the best time to put this into practice, but given the current circumstances, y/n couldn’t help but wonder how she’d convince her mum to overlook her being caught sleeping in a boys dorm.

“Miss y/n,” Mr Houseman sighed, a look the read ‘fed up but not surprised’ etched into his features as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you care to explain what your duty is in Mr Wallace’s bed?” The older man enquired, leaning against the door- conveniently covering Seymour’s name plaque placed next to Will’s. Sneaky bastard. Being Will’s best friend, y/n was his shoulder to cry when Seymour killed himself, and so naturally she was aware of the situation. Mr Houseman’s snarl of ‘I thought I told you to take that down’ didn’t go unnoticed by y/n, though she was too preoccupied with staring at the boy next to him to even bother to see Will’s reaction.

The boy’s face was unfamiliar, and had it not been for Will’s obnoxious cough she would have been able to analyze him to her heart's content, but the expectant look he sent her way made her swallow her inhibitions and clear her throat.

“Uh, sleeping?”

An eye roll and a quick snatch of the ‘Seymour’ plaque off of the door was the only form of a reply he graced her with before leaving the room, the clicking of his shoes fading down the hallway being the only sound that prevented the atmosphere slipping into an awkward silence.

“So, are you Don’s roommates?” A voice spoke up, presumably his mother. She wore an inviting smile, the type y/n couldn’t help but feel comfortable around. It vaguely crossed her mind as to whether her son had the same smile. His features were striking enough, something she’d been able to gather from the few moments she’d stolen a glance at him. The boy that stood before her was clad in the charcoal grey uniform she knew all too well, topped off with a yellow tie highlighting his forest orbs. ‘House Sparta’. The ash brown waves of locks on his head lay perfectly in place, apart from the single strand of stray hair that caressed his right cheekbone. He had a somewhat diamond shaped face, with defined and sturdy features; and of course a jawline sharp enough to cut the tension growing in the room.

Fortunately for her, Will’s quick reactions saved her from her potential future mother in law judging her (y/n was quite the hopeless romantic).

“Yeah, uh yes Mrs Wallace. I’m Willoughby Blake, I’ll be your son’s roommate for the rest of the year.”

Don’s eyes flitted to the girl, now sitting up but still snuggled up in what he assumed were his sheets. From Mr Houseman’s comment, he inferred she was y/n. A smile worked its way onto his face at the idea of the girl currently doing everything in her power to avoid his gaze being his roommate, it even eased the idea of being stuck in an unfamiliar school full of prestige middle class children for the next two years, and if anything Don could even say he wouldn’t mind it if he could be around the doe eyed girl for the duration of his sixth form experience.

“Lovely to meet you Willoughby. Uh, I should get going then. Be good, you, and I’ll see you at the end of the term.” She told her son, pecking him quickly on the cheek and sending a friendly smile in Will’s and y/n’s directions before making her way down the hallway, leaving a growing silence to fall over the three teens.

When the clicking of Mrs Wallace’s heels had drowned out, y/n was quick to jolt out of Don’s bed, clearing her throat.

“Right, um I should probably get going too.” She mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the skirt hanging from her hips, and ignoring the heat rising on her cheeks under his intense gaze.

“No!” He said, his voice raised slightly in protest as it cracked slightly due to his sudden shout, startling her and stopping her right in her tracks. “I mean, uh you should stay! Yeah you should stay, I’ll need someone to show me how to get to the main hall anyway.” He continued, trailing off with a sheepish grin.

Y/n briefly glanced up at him, barely making eye contact before averting her eyes anywhere else but his. The faintest of smirks shadowed his lips at her actions, feeling a strong endearment towards the girl pretending to be oblivious to his stare by playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I mean, that’s what I’m here for but don’t worry, I think she fancies you too.” Will interrupted with a wink. A knowing smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

Will was very blunt. For y/n, it was either a blessing or a curse. There were times when she was very thankful for his quick tongue, such as a instance in year ten when y/n had ran into a year eleven in a clumsy rush to get to sixth period. Unfortunately for her, it was Clemsie Lawrence and her clique, the single most loved student in the school. Fortunately for her, her best friend was Willoughby Blake, the single most outspoken student in the school. It was a genuine mistake, y/n and Will had three minutes to get to Latin because he had insisted on stopping to eat a cookie, and now the pair were essentially legging it down the ancient corridors in hopes of getting to class on time. Their hopes were cut short however as they turned a corner, and y/n slammed straight into the blonde year eleven. Various sneers of ‘Watch where you’re fucking going’ echoed through the nearly empty corridor as the younger of the students attempted to mumble a spew of apologies. Apologies that seemed to fall on deaf ears however, which was to be expected really, seeing as year elevens considered themselves to be superior to the rest of the school- especially when they're Clemsie Lawrence or one of her associates. “I uh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking and-” “No y/n it wasn’t your fault.” Will spoke up, a faint grin of reassurance being sent her way before he averted his gaze to the group of girls watching with disgust. “If anyone here should be apologizing it should be you.” Y/n was quick to tug at his sleeve when he was met with blank stares and even a few giggles. She knew as soon as one of Clemsie’s friends opened her mouth they were in for it. “You know, when I was in year ten, I wouldn’t dare to speak to a year eleven, let alone like that. Before your girlfriend nearly ran us over and you decided to get brave, I didn’t mind year tens, looks like you fucked it up for your whole year.” Y/n gulped. Even if Clemsie hadn’t actually spoken herself yet, it was clear from the way she was staring down at her, she had definitely landed herself in the school sweetheart’s bad books. Though that being said, he seemed unphased, and without missing a beat Will replied. “Funny you say that, because I was pro life before this run in, but you, too are making me questions my beliefs.” He sighed, feigning disappointment whilst turning away and gripping the shorter girl’s hand who was now biting back a smile. “Oh, and,” He continued, pausing his walk and turning to the group with a sickeningly sweet smile. “ I’m gay.” Ever since that literal run in, y/n was right to assume she and Clemsie hadn’t been on the best of terms.

Their faces fell at his comment. Don looked pale, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen a ghost. Y/n looked on the verge of tears as she watched Will laugh with frantic eyes.

“Calm down, bloody hell you two I’m joking! I’m gay, what do I know about straight messes.” He snickered, patting Don on the back before heading out.

Y/n cleared her throat, hastily heading for the door, “I uh, we should probably go.” She barely even whispered, practically running down the dorms corridor after Will, leaving Don to fend for himself as he watched with a fond smile. For a gay boy, Will truly was spot on about this straight mess.

#yE BOI #ITS V SHORT BUT!!!!!!#finn cole #slaughterhouse rulez #don wallace #asa butterfield #willoughby blake #peaky blinders

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littlesugarwords · 6 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Revelations”

Title: Revelations Characters: Clementine, Javier, Tripp, Jesus, Eleanor, David Summary: After they reach New Richmond, Clementine is so worn down from lack of proper nutrition she passes out. As Eleanor, Tripp, and even David take turns watching her, she talks in her sleep, revealing some of the things she'd gone through, (such as the stranger, her parents, and Lee.) They each realize she may just be a scared kid, and not the troublesome survivor they made her out to be. So when she wakes up, Javi encourages the crew to give her a warm welcome after everything she's been through. Author's Note: Infinity War reference ;;;)))) Requested By: Sohai-Mangos on Wattpad support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“I don’t feel so good.” Clementine’s voice, fragile and brittle, fluttered through the air like a wounded butterfly.

All trotting along with her froze.

Javier was the first to turn to study the teen’s condition: bleak. She was as pale as snow, her lashes heaving in ailment, her shoulders caving in defeat. His brows pressed at the sight, watching as his teammates did the same. They had never seen the teen in such a state before. “Clem?”

The team had only just made it to New Richmond, and had fairly quickly been escorted into the jail as per David’s request. There all of them, Tripp, Jesus, Clementine and Javier stood, exhausted and belittled, merely looking for rest. Some more than others.

“Clementine?” Tripp breathed, looming closer. While the two had anything but a close-bond, watching the teen collapse was something he had never seen. Something was wrong. Really wrong. In this world, her health concerned all of them, especially seeing as they locked in the same room.

The fear in Javi’s eyes grew, eyes bulging as the girl in his arms failed to respond. With panic, with urgency, with desperation, he glanced around the room eager for someone to help ease his distress.

“She’s malnourished.” There, immediately, Jesus was on the scene. He crouched by the teen, brushing her frail hair from her face and tipping her hat back to get a better look. “She’s pale and wheezing, has been since I joined you.” He leaned back, giving the teen and the male holding her room. “She needs water and food.”

“That’s all?”

“Should be.” Jesus shrugged, leaning back on his feet, his crouch deepening the weight on his knees. “But I’m no doctor.”

Instantly, Javi’s eyes lit up. “Eleanor.”

Tripp could feel the colour wash from his face at the mention of the female’s name. Of course, it had to be Eleanor they needed.

Javi, without a chance to garner the group’s thoughts, began wailing — yelling and hollering the female’s name as loudly as he could muster. It was only a matter of moments before the angry pattering of footsteps sounded throughout the hallway.

Before they knew it, there stood Eleanor, stone faced. “Are you serious Javi?” Javi’s brows pressed, waiting for her to register the situation upon them. As her eyes fell, drinking in the sight, she adjusted. “What happened?”

“She passed out.” Javi spat back, not trying to hide his bitterness. While he knew Clem needed her help, he had every right to remain bitter at her betrayal, and her apprehension. “She needs water and food.”

Eleanor’s brows squished. While she didn’t want to claim that the group was lying in hopes of getting extra supplies, especially seeing as she wasn’t fond of Clementine, the sight caused her demeanour to falter. Something about their sincerity struck her. She was still a child, after all. Javi would never hesitate to pull that card on her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

In under ten minutes, the female returned. In her arms stood a single water bottle, a small container of applesauce, and a small bag of cheese crackers.

“What a horrible combo.”

While Eleanor shot Jesus a glare for the comment, Javi was silently appreciative. Not only because had he not been cradling the girl he would’ve cracked the same joke, but also seeing as the tension relief was desperately needed.

“This isn’t all.” She said softly. She turned, speaking to Javi more than anyone else. “She needs to come with me.”

Javi hesitated, blinking, allowing the words to settle. “What?”

“David wants her in quarantine.” Eleanor continued, being sure to enforce her lack of power. “He doesn’t know what we’re dealing with and doesn’t want risks.”

“You’re kidding.”

Eleanor’s sad expression said everything she didn’t need to — that she agreed. “I did ask if we could have people alternating watch on her,” she shrugged. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

“Really?” Javi questioned, though before the word left his mouth he knew why: it was less risk for him. If people who cared for her willingly placed themselves in harms way, he didn’t need to force his people to do the same.

“I offered to be first.” Javi raised an eyebrow at the Eleanor’s comment, shocked she was willing. Noticing this, she rolled her eyes. “I want to pinpoint what’s wrong.”

Now that made more sense. Eleanor genuinely caring for the child was a distant dream.

Tripp stood, his stare cold and stern. “I’ll drop her off.” Surprisingly, Eleanor didn’t seem to mind.

While reluctant at first to release her, eventually Javier caved and allowed the male to remove the teen from his grasp. Tripp followed Eleanor to the makeshift “infirmary” they made in Richmond’s jailhouse — Clementine’s temporary home.

“You’re going to need to take watch after me.” Eleanor claimed, clicking on a flashlight and peeling one of the teen’s eyes open.

“Me?” Tripp questioned.

Eleanor shrugged. “David doesn’t trust Javier too much right now. But I know you, and I’m putting you in charge of her because I trust you.” The complement, while strictly professional, still made Tripp beam. Eleanor avoided his stare.

After a few tests — examining her eyes, skin, and hair — Eleanor eased. “Malnutrition. Jesus got it right.” Tripp remained silent, watching Eleanor pack up her things. “I’m gonna report back to David. Please, keep watch of her.”

Tripp smirked, offering a chuckle. “I know you’re going to lock me in. It’s not like I have a choice.” Eleanor gave a sad smile, grabbing her keys and starting for the door. They both knew he was right, what use did it do to acknowledge it?

Amidst the silence, the muffled sounds of voices outside, the eerie wind sweeping through the walls, there was a new sound. This one was closer, clearer, as if coming from the same room.

Because it was.

Glancing down to the table, the one scattered with foam poorly taped to it, the one on which Clementine rested, he watched her lips wobble. Her murmurs were soft and faint, but if he dipped in closer he could decode them.

“I can’t Lee…”

Tripp’s brows furrowed, the name foreign to him. Who was Lee?

“I can’t shoot…”

Tripp paused, taking in the girls features, attempting to understand why she was saying such things.

In a matter of moments, Eleanor reentered the room, her eyes pressed in confusion watching the way Tripp stared at the child so intently. “Tripp?”

He turned, pushing himself to his feet as if he didn’t have a care in the world, not phased by her spotting him. “I was making sure she’s still breathing. I couldn’t tell.” He shrugged passively. After all, maybe he was going crazy from lack of nutrition as well. Maybe he imagined her speech.

Eleanor raised a brow but dismissed her concerns. “There’s a guard outside that’s going to take you back to your cell. I can take watch.”

Tripp hesitated, now debating if he should reveal what the child had uttered. Again dismissing it as his imagination, not wanting to weird the female out more than he already had, he took his leave.

As the guard clicked the door shut behind them, Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Men.” Dismissing the odd behaviour, the female pushed open the teen’s lips, ready to give her water.

“All this way…. for nothing….”

Eleanor jumped at the mumbles, watching water droplets splatter from the bottle onto the floor. She stared at the three droplets silently, wondering if she heard the girl correctly. Wondering if a sound had even been made to begin with.

“All this way….they’re dead...”

Eleanor stood, gaze fixated hauntingly on the teen. It was real. She had really heard it. Anxiously, the woman turned to the sink, instead using the water bottle to dampen a cloth she brought to place on the girl’s forehead. The entire while she wrung the cloth underwater, she couldn’t help but worry. What had she meant? What did the vague statements mean? Deep down she knew that if anyone would be able to decode them, it would be Javier, and there was no way David would allow him to leave the cell. At least, not yet.

“How’s the patient?” The voice, paired with the sound of the door swinging open, jolted the woman. Her thoughts grew scattered, whipping to face the man himself: David Garcia.

Her shoulders sagged. “Something else is wrong with her.”

She could see the exhaustion in the faint twitch of the male’s shoulders, his eyes gleaming of irritation. “What else is it? How fast can it be dealt with?”

Eleanor shook her head. “It’s not a physical issue,” she began, wringing out the cloth in the sink and settling it against the teen’s porcelain skin. “She’s talking.” David raised an eyebrow, confused with the issue at hand. Eleanor waved a hand, dismissing the judgmental stare. “She’s saying some questionable things in her sleep. They’re,” she hesitated, looking for the word. “Alarming.”

David scoffed. “Clementine’s fine.” He assured, waving her away. “I’ll watch over her, I need to talk with her when she wakes anyway.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow, one of skepticism and worry. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, however, did he ever really? Besides, he wouldn’t listen to her regardless. So, instead of putting up a fight, the female cast a hesitant stare over the teen and dismissed herself, pulling the door closed behind her.

As he normally did while he waited, David pulled out a crossword from his back pocket — one that he had torn from one of the abandoned newspapers scattering the town. Just as his pencil finished scribbling in ‘donut’ under ‘dough fried pastry,’ he heard a sound. It sounded too clear to be coming from outside the walls, and he knew what that meant.

His gaze shifted to the girl sprawled on the table, watching her lower lip twitch. Then, he heard her voice.

“Take me back…” there was a pause. “My walkie…”

David’s brows pressed, glancing from side to side, ensuring nobody else was in the room to witness his mind slowly disintegrating.

Finally, after a pause, she spoke again. “Don’t go...Lee…”

For David, that did it.

He jumped to his feet, unsettled at the type of eavesdropping he felt like he was committing to the girl. Nervously, only casting a side-glance at her, he slipped out and closed the door. Eleanor had been right.

He went straight for the cell block.

“What’s going on with her?” He didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything as he burst into the cell, the question flying from his lips. The caged door clattered behind him. “Why did nobody tell me she was talking in her sleep?”

Eleanor fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“What?” Javier breathed, pushing himself to his feet and away from the wall he was propped against. “She’s talking?”

“In her sleep, yeah.” Eleanor confirmed, settling on crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “She did the same thing when I was in there.”

“Me too,” Tripp confirmed, giving a faint nod.

David raised an eyebrow, leering deeper into the cell. “What did she say when you were in there?”

Eleanor shifted uncomfortably. “Something about going ‘all this way for nothing.’” She shrugged. “Something about someone being dead.”

Javier furrowed his brows, pain rising in his chest.

“For me she was talking about how she couldn’t shoot. Referred to some guy named Lee.”

Tripp’s comment caused Javier’s head to whip, eyes bulging, shock riddling his bones.

Throughout it all, David’s brows remained pressed, taking in the strange new information. “She mentioned Lee with me too.” He turned to Javier. “And a walkie-talkie? Javi, do you know what’s happening?”

His stiff stance, his inability to move or budge, answered the question for everyone.

He knew.

“Javi…” Eleanor pressed. He was unable to read her expression. Whether she was curious, or worried, or frustrated, or a combination of the three he wasn’t be able to tell. He could rarely read Eleanor.

“I know about Lee.” He stated, waving his arms at his sides, as if that was the only confession he had to give. After a moment of pause, he continued. “And the walkie-talkie, and the trek that was ‘all for nothing,’ and the people that died.” He paused. “I know everything.”

“How?”

“Because I talk to her?” Javier shot back at David, only slightly regretting it seeing a glare form against him. He was, after all, in charge of their capture and release. Javier eased. “She’s confided in me once or twice. On long treks.”

“So?” Eleanor shrugged, leering forward. “What does it all mean?”

Javier hesitated, unsure if he wanted to release her information. Taking a deep breath, allowing the air to formulate the decision in his gut, he sighed. “The journey that was all for nothing was to find her parents.” He finally heaved. “They were dead once she found them. The guy that helped her track them down was Lee. He got bit during the journey and asked Clem to shoot him.”

The room grew hauntingly quiet.

“The walkie-talkie was one of the last things she had to remember her parents by. Same with her hat.” Javier tapped the side of his head, indicating so. “She’s had it rough.”

Again, the group said nothing. There was nothing to be said. Nothing that would do Javier’s confession justice.

“It must be bothering her pretty bad if she’s grumbling about it in her sleep.” Jesus commented, crossing his legs as he leaned against one of the cell’s cement walls.

Nobody dared to comment.

David sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before letting it limply, almost dejectedly, fall. “God,” he breathed. All this time he pinned her all wrong.

She acted like an adult because she needed to become one. She lost every parental figure she ever had and needed to become one for herself — she needed to feed and clothe herself, keep herself alive, and keep herself safe. All since she was a child.

It didn’t matter if she acted like an adult because she needed to, she was still a child. Maybe David treating her like an adult and seeing her as one was what caused her betrayal to New Richmond. Maybe that was where his relationship with her had gone sour — his inability to understand. His inability to try to.

Eleanor slowly came to the same realization he had, the look on their faces almost perfectly mirrored. Their gazes shifted and locked, sharing a silent moment understanding, before falling again in shame.

It was only when the shuffling of footsteps sounded outside their cell door did anyone dare speak and remove themselves from their pit of regret.

“Clementine!” Javier breathed, spotting the teen, on her feet, on the other side of the gate.

As everyone turned, she seemed confused and dazed, her brows kissing as she tried to understand why her team was behind bars. Quickly, before she had chance to dash away or protest, Eleanor grabbed her and swept her in with them, ensuring the door was closed behind them. The last thing David would want would be her escaping.

Before she could speak, Eleanor shoved a water bottle in her hand, snapping the top off and demanding that she drink.

“Clem,” Javier continued. “It’s good to see you awake.”

She raised an eyebrow while tipping the bottle back, quizzically staring at everyone in the room as best as she could given her angle. Coming up for air, she caught her breath before speaking. “What happened?”

“You passed out,” Jesus explained, giving her a warm smile devoid of pity. “Malnutrition. Eleanor’s been taking care of you.”

The teen stared at the woman, confused given their hostility. She merely shrugged with a teasing smile. “It’s my job.”

Suddenly understanding, Clementine laid off. “Thanks,”

Javier merely smiled, taking in the sight of the girl on her feet again. Now knowing what the rest of the group knew, maybe their unit dynamic would change. Maybe they would be more understanding of the teen. More respectful.

“It’s good to see you up again,” Tripp commented, nodding respectfully her way.

Clementine smiled, the same warm feeling she got around Tripp returning. It was a familiar sense she received with Javier, Luke and Lee — comfort and protection. Trust. She knew Tripp would always have her back. She respected people like that.

“Clementine,” David’s voice, low and gravely, caused her to turn to face him. He was making his way to the other side of the cell door, closing it as he went. The clink of the metal sounded before he did. “I’m glad you’re doing okay.” Turning to Eleanor before she had a chance to say a word, he nodded. “Come find me when she’s been fed.” With that, he vanished.

Instead, the group remained stuck in silence, confused yet heart warmed at his display.

Javier pushed the thought to the side, his gaze not shifting from the teen. Just as she turned back, he threw her into his embrace, a smile pressed to his cheeks. “Thank God,”

Clementine merely smiled as Eleanor took the water bottle from her hand,so she could hug him back. This was her new family now, and while she swore she was never going to team up again, she knew she had broken that promise to herself.

After all, it seemed like one worth breaking. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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