#this picture has driven me insane but in a different way from the last one. aka i rushed it in 3 days and feel like death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has 4 main sources of revenue.

#this picture has driven me insane but in a different way from the last one. aka i rushed it in 3 days and feel like death

roszabell · 1 year

Text

saying again that i adore this recent talking abt nedcan - god i don’t have the time to write or draw abt them, tho i’ve had breakup thoughts about them for years, but once it’s summer… i imagine their relationship was love, yeah, but always uneven. matthew being the hopeless romantic that he is, wanting true love and a forever, happily ever after, which is just not a lasting reality for nations, especially when he is so young and there are very few others with his similar amount of lifespan and experiences. other than the brother/sister relationships he has.

i always pictured it falling apart in the 90s as well, as this is my favorite lead up to modern prucan re(?)kindling. 1992-ish, gilbert has been home from the ussr, finding his new normal, experiencing modern freedom and navigating his relationships with his brother and friends that have a different flavor now. what is he going to do now? he’s too driven to simply relax, so does he find a new purpose, hobbies, job? he doesn’t have the same power or weight as he once had. enjoying the calm and lack of fighting and fear and duty, he’s able to connect with himself again, redefine himself as who he is without the overpowering Soldier personality he was made to be for all his life.

and matt, who is very fresh off a breakup with the man he’s loved deeply for decades, grappling with what the hell he’s gonna do now. he’s not good at being alone, to him, his relationships do define him. he’s gonna be in his depressed slut era for awhile, and then through some way he and gilbert (his childhood prince-charming crush he’s..mostly…gotten over) begin to make friends. hey this guy is actually really cool to hang out with! they can be normal about it for awhile. be themselves, have fun, good off and explore. until gil starts catching feelings, which rocks his world. he never expected that. and there’s tension and then matthew catches on, friends with benefits for years until one of them cracks, and it runs far too smoothly into boyfriends by 2000.

that’s my take, i’ve said too many times i need to talk abt my personal canon prucan relationship timeline but here’s a good chunk of it. i fucking adore nedcan for how it is, and again i’m so in love with all the ideas and writing and artwork that’s going around. i can’t wait to actually jump on the train myself. the way shifting relationship dynamics can be explored with these immortal characters makes me insane it’s my favorite thing ever

#windmill saga #nedcan #nedcan breakup #prucan #prucan timeline lore #rosza rambles #hetalia headcanons #ugh!!!! i love these men and their relationship issues!!!

27 notes · View notes

zeevoidlight · 5 months

Text

Just finished the Talos Principle 2. I have thoughts on it.

I liked it very much :). Is one of those games that will stay with me for quite a while. I like the world building, the robots, the problems and questions that arise from the story. Just like last game.

SPOILERS My ending was that I unintentionally (because i didn't knew it was a choice) pushed for Byron to become mayor. I actually think it was a good outcome and something I wanted ultimately because the city couldn't possibly survive without him in command for the next election. I liked Byron at first because is almost obvious. But as the story progressed in the game I started to see what the others were talking about when referring to him. I do think he is umm... a bit insane, lol, and later in the game i couldn't but see him as a too rash and unhinged at times, just like the other extreme with Hermanubis. He's clearly a Utopist with big ambitions which wouldn't be so bad if they weren't driven by his own trauma, he cannot see past himself using others necessities to justify and prove his personal point into the extreme. That's why I wanted to side with Alcatraz, which to me feels like the safe option, of not being to rash to take a definitive decision in that moment to completely change reality forever and focus only on the immediate problems at hand. He wasn't opposed to the technology, he was just wary of it, which is perfectly understandable. But... I didn't wanted to admit it but the narrative seems to favor Byron in the very end, even leaving Alcatraz completely out of the picture in all endings, and depicting the "theory of everything" as the only one that gives fruit. maybe, Idk exactly but that's my impression after seeing three endings by myself and the special endings on youtube. Although I still don't know the conditions of the special endings and their variants, and also my impression was a bit different, more balanced when i saw the normal endings by myself. Maybe reddit has a way to skew the truth by deciding to find and choose a "true" ending or "canon" ending, maybe the game is actually biased, idk. The ending i got was, like i was saying before i got sidetracked, I got Byron elected, and I wanted to turn off the machine, not destroy it, to maybe take a bit of time to think about it and study it, and Byron in the meantime could move New Jerusalem out of their stagnation into something better than what they had currently. I was my best outcome because they needed the resources and I think they were absolutely exaggerating by saying that they will destroy the planet if they just basically grow any inch. They were already much better the moment the started making plans for expeditions and gathering resources for their immediate needs, and thinking about creating new things, while at the same time not immediately giving the theory of everything power to them as they were right now because Athena's concerns and Alcatraz concerns where very much real. Is the power to change reality itself! Is Teensy and Tot and the Polyhedron all over again! Don't you see the danger they inherent?! (insert Jeff Goldblum here).

But i feared the game wasn't going to understand me and it was going to give me a bad ending for taking the middle of the road decision, and that's exactly what happened. I took the option to turn off the machine, and apparently that's the worst ending because the mayor is not actually elected, they end up fighting each other, 1K just ends up leaving them to their own and basically exiles himself with Athena and says "fuck this shit I'm out" and leaves them to figure the future out themselves, and the Sphinx tells me that i took a decision that is not a decision. like... *sigh... So, I watched the ending that I think the game wanted me to take in the first place, which is to use the machine to know everything and gain absolute control over reality itself. And i watched it, but to be honest it was still not the good ending, at least for me, even with that Byron super heartfelt dialogue at the end over the scene with 1K creating life in another corner of the universe and the holograms (ghosts? ppl on reddit said it was ghosts) of other AIs and the music and all. I just think that's too much, and as Al and at some point Yaqut said, it felt devoid of meaning, to suddenly have everything and can do anything and know everything, to manipulate life that way. Everything looses purpose. At least that's how i felt.

So, I chose then the other ending where you outright destroy the machine. And I thought the game was going to punish me with something worse than my first ending, complete oblivion. But surprisingly it was the ending i was actually looking for. One where Byron gets elected and he says that he respects my decision without any resentments since he expresses that with respect. I was surprised when he said that! and he was saying in his speech that he was still going to take New Jerusalem to a brighter future worthy of the people that doubt them. It was so much better! And just what i wanted! And then 1K goes into the woods and find a stag, and kneels before it. I don't feel it was in a worshiping way but just in a respectful way. I was just disappointed that I didn't saw Alcatraz in that ending then, because I feel like he would be much more at ease and happy with the results. The only thing he wanted was for Byron to not go crazy, not to stop advancement altogether. But towards the end i feel the narrative started to change Alcatraz into being the opposite of Byron like he was depicted at the very start for you to think that was all his character was. It reverted back into it with little details he says to make you misunderstand what he's saying again...

... I'm happy with that last ending i got being my canon one. Even if it's "the wrong one". Feels like Pathologic all over again. I just cannot win with the choice I thought it was the good one. I hope i'm just tripping and there's actually no bias. But that's why it will stay in the void along with other things as long as the general consensus say there's an actual "canon" ending. At least until the new Talos comes out in a couple of years, if there's another one. Or someone on the team says otherwise. I will have my own canon. And Alcatraz and I can be the forever party poopers.

#the talos principle #the talos principle 2 #small mention of Pathologic #spoilers #ian malcom

1 note · View note

bkdkology · 3 years

Text

A Katsuki Meta

Howdy, I am back on my shit again after Atsushi’s twitter post of Horikoshi’s drafts made me cry for two hours and sleep for three.

Let’s get to it!

While there is obvious symbolism in this draft of Katsuki letting go of his past self, you have to appreciate just how much planning has been dedicated to this series, and how Horikoshi has managed to take a character that could’ve strictly followed a checklist of stereotypes for a hot headed, short tempered deuteragonist and build him to become just as complex and important as the protagonist.

He kept true to the promise he made when the chapter releases were still in the single digits:

Katsuki’s character is one of the easiest to mishandle. He was introduced as a bully, and maintained an explosively vile personality throughout a good chunk of the series. His most obvious traits are the marks of a FOIL to Deku, and he could have well stayed that way and still ended up becoming a good pro, with the usual AHA moment that a deuteragonist like him experiences: a moment where he learns that power isn’t everything.

Except he didn’t have a moment, he had several. He was kidnapped, tossed around, ripped to shreds, challenged, loved, trusted, admired, understood and practically reborn. The fact that he’s managed to stay true to himself after everything means he always had the makings of a great hero in him.

I wouldn’t say I’m a person who’s particularly capable of insane and correct deep level thinking, and on top of that I’m INCREDIBLY EASY to impress. For me it’s like:

You know how Earth needed to be at the exact distance it is from the sun and have the perfect atmosphere to create life? Katsuki’s story is much like that.

If anyone else but Deku had been telling the story, if Deku hadn’t been as persistent, strong willed, and caring as he is, and if everything that happened to Katsuki didn’t happen in the exact order and manner it did, he wouldn’t have been as great as he is now. And while that’s simple enough to say, it’s truly such a beautiful thing to bear witness to.

We’re 300 chapters and nearly 6 years into MHA and we’ve seen.

Katsuki go from refusing to work with others to becoming a great team leader.

His focus has always been on one thing: victory. In almost every situation, he’s had his eye on the win. It wasn’t always the case when Deku was involved, because Deku was so different from him in a way that made him feel threatened. And it’s something that has most likely been on his mind for a long time.

He’s become more comfortable with his vision since his fight with Deku, and it was probably liberating in an emotional sense too. His fight with Deku didn’t just realign and solidify his own views on life, but made him more accepting of himself and absolved him of some of his heaviest insecurities.

Katsuki letting go of his superiority complex to better himself.

In the days leading up to his fight with Deku, he was also fighting an internal battle for “being the reason behind All Might’s end.”

I wouldn’t argue that he was feeling guilty. While it was surely part of it, it shouldn’t be minimized to only guilt. The expressions on his face throughout the fight were incredible, he was angry, frustrated, confused, scared, quite clearly as he claimed, he just didn’t know what the hell he should do, so he fought.

By the time he interned at Endeavor’s agency, he was already well aware that he had faults, which is a huge step for him, and he was beginning the process of pinpointing those faults.

His unwillingness to work with Deku dissolves

After reaching a certain point in the manga, it’s become hard for me to imagine a time when Katsuki full on rejected Deku. In the first few volumes Katsuki got worse before he got better. He was in a comfortable position bullying Deku in middle school, but when he started to experience failure, when he witnessed Deku becoming stronger at a faster rate than him, he couldn’t even enjoy the fact that he was going to school where his favorite role model was teaching.

Now, after everything, Katsuki was opening up to Deku. They started training together to help Deku gain control of OFA. And not just that, Katsuki was invested in the long term. While he shared the secret of OFA with Deku long before anyone else found out about it, he later started to shoulder some of the weight too, and he was good at it.

He called small might out for keeping secrets from Deku, claiming Deku trusted him with his life, but he wasn’t as easily convinced, pointing out a detail in the descriptions of the past users that might’ve gone over Deku’s head. He’s always been brilliant, but now he’s using that brilliance to actively try to become involved with Deku’s burden.

He’s changed in obvious ways, but in subtle ones too.

After so much time, this panel is still really hard to look at. If you’ve ever suffered at the hands of bullies, you probably feel like there’s little satisfaction in their story even though so much has changed between them, there’s still a long way to go, there’s still a huge piece missing. Deku is way too forgiving, I don’t think he ever held anything against Katsuki for the way he treated him in the past. Katsuki is still hard with words, since the last time he bullied Deku, he has never said anything he doesn’t mean.

Katsuki has never been the type to lie. He doesn’t beat around the bush, he doesn’t pretend to be somebody he’s not, and while that part of him hasn’t changed, the way in which he delivers has. His heart has changed, and while I don’t recall a moment where he hasn’t been able to live up to his big claims, his confidence has changed from being used to mask his insecurity, to a healthier confidence that can lead, support, protect, and save.

To think that this moment is the moment that solidified Katsuki’s path to greatness, the fact that his capabilities and brilliance have always made his future bright, he’s gone above and beyond his own expectations of the world and how it works. In the world of scientific journals, there is always a gap in the knowledge of the scientific community, a gap in the understanding of how the world works. When you find that gap, something incredible happens.

He let go of the past. Katsuki, who envisioned a life where he made it big because he knew he could. Katsuki, who was always self driven. Katsuki, who loves the taste of victory. Katsuki, who categorized the world and people around him in terms of power. Katsuki, who believed only the powerful could become strong.

Deku was the one thing in his life that didn’t fit in his picture of the world. To him, his understanding of how the world worked was defined by the strong, the weak, the good and the bad. He couldn’t understand how empathy and vulnerability could make someone strong.

I’m really excited to see where Katsuki goes from here. There’s still so much for him to discover, and he’s so, so close to the end stage of his metamorphosis.

#bakugou katsuki #bkdk #bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #ktdk #katsudeku #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #Katsuki meta #kacchan

439 notes · View notes

elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Text

When Passion Rules the Game | Part Seven

CW: NSFW, language

AN: Wow, I wrote seven chapters in seven days and I feel so accomplished! This fic has been so fun to write, and I hope everybody enjoyed. (Last chapter btw)

Part Six//Masterlist//2835 words

By some miracle, Aelin made it through the rest of the day. She introduced herself to Nox, showed him the ropes, and got some work done. And as soon as she had completed the day’s tasks, she just about bolted out to her car, headed to Rowan’s apartment.

There was no hesitation in Aelin’s mind as she firmly knocked on Rowan’s door. He would let her in, explain, and she would realize that this was all some cosmic joke.

Aelin heard footsteps approach the door, and she braced herself, straightening her back and plastering a smile on her face.

But the door never opened. After a moment, Aelin heard the footsteps retreat, and she blinked in confusion.

She knocked again.

Another minute passed. No more noises sounded within the apartment, and Aelin started to scowl. What right did he have to ignore her? She was his boss! Well, not anymore—but that was beside the point.

Aelin reached for the handle and jiggled it, but it was locked.

“Rowan,” she called. “Please let me in.”

“Dammit, go away, Aelin.”

She hadn’t been expecting a response, and to hear that animosity toward her frightened her. Rowan must have quit because she was sleeping with him, and he wasn’t comfortable with the situation. Aelin had never done anything like this before, never unintentionally harassed someone out of their job, and her heart started aching. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Coming to terms with the fact that Rowan wasn’t going to let her in the door, Aelin pulled a bobby-pin from her hair and inserted it into the lock. She had been a rambunctious teenager, always causing poor Aedion and her parents trouble, and picking a lock was second nature to her.

She smiled internally as the last tumbler fell into place and the lock clicked. Aelin absentmindedly discard the bobby pin in her purse and turned the knob.

Rowan was sitting on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands, clearly upset about something. His head snapped up the instant Aelin walked in, and his eyes narrowed. “How did you—”

Aelin shut the door, cutting him off. “Why did you quit.” She was slightly angry at herself, and it came out in her tone.

Rowan sighed. “I resigned.”

“Same difference. Tell me why.”

Rowan stood up, but still kept his distance. “I found a new job. I thought it would be a better opportunity for me.”

Aelin scoffed. “You were just relocated to Terrasen. Don’t tell me you’re moving again.”

“I’m not moving. I got a job at Salvaterre Enterprises. It pays more.”

“If you wanted a raise, I—”

“I left. It’s done. There is nothing to say.”

Aelin frowned, trying to cover up the fact that her heart was fracturing in her chest. “But—”

“Do you always break into the homes of employees who decide they don’t want to work for you anymore?”

The ice in Rowan’s voice had Aelin trembling. “I want to know if you’re leaving because of me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re sleeping with me!” Aelin yelled. “And you’re quitting because you’re worried about it or you’re not comfortable with it or something and I can’t just let you do that! I can’t just sexually harass one of my employees and let them leave.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “You’re not… Aelin, this is not your fault.”

“Then what is this?” she rasped. “Why did you even apply at Salvaterre Enterprises anyway?”

She could see the hesitation in his eyes. Rowan took a step forward, then paused. “I can’t… I just needed to go. I’ve never been uncomfortable around you, Aelin, I swear.”

“Then why, Rowan, did you go? Because I’m going to keep believing this is my fault if you don’t prove otherwise.”

He hissed out a breath and turned around, running his hands through his hair. “It’s because I…”

“Because you what?”

“I can’t… I shouldn’t say.”

“Tell me,” Aelin’s demanded. She dropped her purse on the floor so that she could cross her arms.

“Because I’m in love with you!” Rowan shouted, spinning back around. “Because I love how passionate you are about your work, and how funny you are, and how you pretend to have an attitude but spend your whole life trying to help people. I love the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re nervous, and how red your face gets when you’re embarrassed, and I even love the way you eat your gods-damn bagels with a fork. And I can’t do it anymore!”

Aelin couldn’t summon words. Rowan loved her?

He was breathing hard, surprise evident on his face. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say all that.

“I think you should go, Aelin. Don’t feel bad. You’re not to blame.” Rowan sighed, turning his head.

He expected her to leave. To walk out and pretend this had never happened, to forget about him. Aelin didn’t know what she was going to do next, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to forget about him.

Rowan took a deep breath, then looked back at Aelin, who wasn’t breathing at all. “I’m sorry, Aelin. But I need you to leave now.”

Aelin didn’t do that.

Rowan gasped in surprise as he felt Aelin’s lips crash into his. She had mindlessly surged forward with no intentions of stopping herself. Aelin fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him closer, tangling her tongue with his. Rowan kissed her back for what could have been a minute or an hour; Aelin was too lost in him to tell. When he finally pulled back, they were both panting.

“What does that mean?” Rowan gasped out.

“I think I might be in love with you, too.”

Rowan yanked her back to his mouth, and Aelin felt herself melting into his touch, trying to get closer and closer, touching as much of his body as she could.

They parted again, and Rowan raised his hand to her face. “You really feel the same?” His thumb stroked her cheek and Aelin leaned into the touch.

“Of course I do. You’re amazing and kind and hilarious, and despite your protests to the contrary, you’re a total sweetheart. I love you, Rowan. I should have noticed it a lot sooner, and I must have been blind not to until now, but I see it now. I love you.”

Rowan leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve cared about people, but no one has ever driven me so insane.”

Aelin laughed. “I drive you insane? I have never broken so many rules because of one man. And that’s really saying something.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied, their noses brushing. “No goody two shoes knows how to pick locks.”

“Don’t ask me about that,” Aelin said, laughing. “Or I’ll ask you why you have a picture of a scowling teenage boy with chains dangling from his jeans hanging up on the wall.”

Rowan groaned. “My mom made me hang that up when I moved in.”

“Oh, you’re a mama’s boy, then?” Aelin teased.

Rowan smiled, but the expression turned fond as he leaned forward that last half-inch and kissed her. It was nothing like any of the kisses they’d shared before; this one was soft and sweet. This one was full of love.

When they pulled apart this time, Aelin whispered, “I still can’t believe you love me.”

“Neither can I,” he replied softly. “I never expected you to say it back. Though I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised to find you stubbornly knocking on my door.”

Aelin smiled, then tugged Rowan down to the couch, plumping onto his lap. “So now that we’ve gotten the love confessions out of the way, maybe we can try to be in a relationship? Be together?”

Rowan smiled. “I would love that. But I might have to dump you if you ever call me a sweetheart again.”

Aelin let out a choked laugh. “But you’re so sweet. Like a little cinnamon bun.”

“I really hope you did not just say that.”

Aelin grinned. “Now that we have all this sorted, you’ll come back to the company? Nox was good at the job, but he doesn’t have your work ethic, and I had to tell him how to—”

Rowan smiled sadly and interrupted her. “Babe, you would be my boss. We may be able to keep a lid on friends with benefits, but you think no one’s going to be upset to hear you’re in a relationship with me?”

“I don’t care what people think,” Aelin insisted, despite the sinking feeling in her gut.

He tugged her farther onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s still wrong. I can’t do it.”

“But… Rowan, you can’t give up your job for me.”

“I’m not. And if it came down to it, I probably wouldn’t. And neither would you, I would guess, should you ever be in that position. Your dedication to your career is one of the things I love about you.” At Aelin’s sad nod, he added, “But I got job with Salvaterre Enterprises, remember?”

Aelin rasied her brow.

“I wasn’t lying,” Rowan said with a grin. “I got a good position there, nothing worse than I had with you. I’ll miss working with you, but I’m excited to be working there, and I’m excited to be with you.”

Aelin bit her lip. “Okay, but I don’t care that you already got hired. I’m sending a recommendation for you. Not just because I love you—never because of that—but because you are an amazing worker. Besides, I know Lorcan.”

Rowan blinked in surprise. “Lorcan Salvaterre?”

Aelin flashed a grin. “We went to college together. Like you, he pretends to be an ass, but is super sweet.” Rowan scowled, and she laughed. “And he’s head-over-heels for Elide. I’ve been trying to set them up for ages.”

“Wow,” Rowan said.

“Underestimating my connections?” Aelin asked snarkily.

“Just shocked that you have friends with money. After all, you just about swiped my savings last time we played poker.”

Aelin smirked. “Lorcan always paid up in other ways.”

“I really hope you didn’t just imply…” Rowan trailed off.

“Imply what?” Aelin asked innocently.

“Did you sleep with my new boss?” Rowan asked, dreading the answer.

She laughed. “No, I was just kidding. I made him do my homework for a month every time he lost.”

Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised you would trust someone to control what grade you get.”

Aelin snorted. “Oh, I wouldn’t. I turned in my own work. I just wanted to make him do it for the fun of it. He went ballistic when he found out I never turned any of his hours’ worth of work in. He’s been trying to get me back for it ever since.”

“Um, perhaps I won’t tell him I’m in a relationship with you, then?”

Aelin cackled.

After another hour of chatting and laughing, Aelin decided she would tell her cousin and friends about this tomorrow, and Rowan said he would do the same by calling his mom. She could barely contain the joy that flowed through her thinking that people would know about them, that he cared about her enough to tell his mother already.

The hand that Rowan had resting on her thigh started stroking her, and Aelin started trying to recall what underwear she had put on his morning. Hopefully something nice.

Aelin ground down on Rowan’s lap, and he stood in one sudden movement, pulling her legs around his waist. Aelin sighed against his neck as he carried her to the bedroom. It sure as hell wasn’t the first time she’d been in here, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Aelin smiled into Rowan’s shirt, but that smile dissolved when Rowan threw her onto the bed. She smiled up at him prettily, the epitome of virtuous and wholesome. Rowan just snorted and said, “Take your clothes off and touch yourself.”

Feeling blood race to her face, Aelin sensually stripped off each piece of clothing, a bit more urgently than she’d been attempting to do. It was hard to act sexy when Rowan was shirtless and smirking at her.

Once she finished, Aelin lay back and spread her legs slightly. She let one hand tug on several strands of hair, delighting in the way Rowan’s eyes tracked her hands.

Then Aelin licked her lips and moved one hand to her stomach to stroke the smooth skin. She smirked at Rowan as she moved her other hand to her mouth and sucked on her thumb, making sure he was able to see as her tongue swirled around the digit. Aelin brought her wet thumb to her nipple and rubbed it roughly, parting her lips in a breathy moan.

She noticed the bulge in Rowan’s pants becoming more apparent as she played with her nipple and teased him with the hand moving on her lower stomach, and she grinned. “Get on with it,” Rowan growled.

Laughing, Aelin spread her legs farther and trailed her hand down, pressing a finger into her entrance. She immediately gasped and inserted another finger, unused to having control over when she got what she wanted.

Knowing exactly what she was thinking as she started thrusting her fingers harder, Rowan smirked and pulled his shirt off. No matter that seeing him watching her made her even wetter, Aelin couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing when she looked at him. She averted her eyes to ceiling and started pumping her fingers in deeper, groaning.

But it was not to be. “Look at me,” Rowan commanded, and Aelin had no choice but to obey.

Holding his gaze, Aelin thrust her hips into her hand and and brought the second hand down the rub furiously at her clit. She was moaning now, making more noises than she did when she was by herself, turned on by the way Rowan rid himself of his pants and started pumping his own length.

“Stop,” Rowan ordered, right as she felt release nearing. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stop. She was so close, and just few more thrusts and she would be at the edge and—

Aelin’s hands were forcibly removed from her pussy, and she cried out as she was flipped over on the bed and spanked.

“What did I tell you?” Rowan’s voice was the sharpened edge of a blade, and Aelin shivered.

“You told me to stop,” she whispered.

Rowan’s hand smacked her ass once more. “And did you?”

Aelin whimpered. “No, sir.”

He spanked her again, his hand stinging the sensation flesh of her bottom. “Why not?”

“Because,” Aelin rasped, trying to summon even a single coherent thought, “I needed to come. I needed to.”

“Hmm,” Rowan said, trailing his finger along the curve of her ass. She shivered at the sensation. “But you knew I wouldn’t let you. And look where we are now.”

Aelin squirmed in his grasp. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” He brought his hand down, the slap sound filling the air. “Or are you just saying that so I’ll stop?”

“I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” Aelin clung to the sheets, burying her face.

Rowan hummed thoughtfully and spanked her again. But before Aelin could beg him to stop again, callused hands gripped her thighs and spread them, Rowan’s cock filling her almost instantly.

Aelin moaned loudly into the sheets. “Rowan, gods.”

He grabbed her hips, pulling her onto her knees and farther onto his cock. She whined and lifted her ass higher in the air.

Rowan’s grip was bruising as he slammed into her. He started pounding into her, and Aelin wondered how she was supposed to walk into work tomorrow and concentrate on her job, let alone walk at all.

The fingers Rowan had on her hips dug harder into her skin, and Aelin felt even wetter knowing that he was marking her right now. His cock was hardening fully inside of Aelin, and the immense awareness she had of him was driving her crazy.

Rowan’s balls slapped her pussy and she screamed into the sheets, her orgasm forcing its way over her body in a shattering earthquake of pleasure. Rowan kept moving, fucking her senseless as she shook and screamed, finally coming and spilling into her.

Once he separated their bodies and rolled over, Aelin turned on her side and put both an arm and a leg across his body. “I love you.”

Rowan kissed her neck. “I love you, too, darling.”

Aelin snuggled closer and, instead of reflecting on her previous shortsightedness and poor judgment, thought about how much she was looking forward to a life being teased, laughed at, fucked, and loved by Rowan.

Little did Aelin know, Elide would owe Dorian twenty bucks after losing the bet about how long it would take them to confess their feelings. What an interesting day tomorrow would be.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@mis-lil-red

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@pagemasters

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@theysayitscrazy

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #when passion rules the game #my writing

112 notes · View notes

sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part I

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!hyunjin, fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT IN LATER PARTS, fluff, character driven story, strangers to lovers, summer au, mentions of insecurity, love at first sight.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 3,5 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I have never written a series before so please understand if it’s lacking heh... and yes the title does relate to the kooks song with the same title so do give it a listen because it’s really good and fits the story c:

also this starts slowly LMAO MORE FUN THINGS ARE COMING UP I SWEAR <33

If you have any feedback I’m more than happy to receive it! <3

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Working as a model was not easy. The complaining managers and the expectations by others was too much to handle. Heck, even getting to the shooting locations was a hastle most of the time.

You tilted your head against the window in the backseat of the taxi. It was a calm august wednesday. The late summer breeze made it’s way into the cab thorugh the window that was opened on the drivers side. Your phone screen lit up, multiple notification from Instagram.

“omg! slay bbygrl”

“her face is crazy pretty”

“beautiful”

You’ve heard these words too many times. If you’re told the same thing over and over again they eventually mean nothing. You scrolled through the other comments on your latest instagram post, a photo from your last photoshoot. A picture of you lying in a bed of white flowers, your skin glowing and your body covered by a white sheer dress that accentuated your neck. It’s not a bad photo but was I really worth the attention? “There are a thousands of other girls way prettier than me.” you though and with a sulken expression you watched life run by outside the window.

15 minutes later you arrived at your agency. You smiled your model smile at the taxi driver to which he smiled back and responded: “My pleasure, miss y/n”.

A big shadow was cast from the building in which the modeling agency was. The beige renaissance building was surrounded by green bushes and a black fence. The big oak entryway had golden lion knockers and an ingraved golden sign. “Eccellente Modeling Agency” it said with bold black letters, contrasting nicely with the gold plate. You rang the doorbell next to the sign and in a matter of seconds the oak gates opened with a loud creak.

“Y/n!! You look stunning as always!” said your manager Bangchan as he hugged you. The smell of his aftershave violated your olfactory sense as usual, making you scrunch your nose. He was always dressed business casual, his white polo shirt and light brown dress pants being a good example but today his poloshirt had a great amount of buttons unbuttoned.

The both of you made your way into his office. A room with a high ceiling and a chandelier worth more than your career. You sat down in the leather couch across the desk, Bangchan sitting on the other side of it.

“Give me a moment.... Just pulling up some files for the new photoshoot I’ve planned! I promise, you’re not gonna be disappointed.” he says smiling, the desktop screen reflecting in his brown eyes.

He turns his computer screen towards you. Your eyes scan the pictures that pop up.

“May I present to you the profile of Hwang Hyunjin. One of the most renowned photographers of this age”. Bangchan looks at you, reading your expression.

The pictures are truly beautiful. Everything, from the outfits to the lightning was perfect.

“Bangchan, you’re insane” you say, smiling widely as you made eye contact with the dark haired manager. “These pictures are so stunning!” you squeal. “How did you even get in contact with him?”

“Nothing for you to worry about y/n, I have my contacts. I’m a manager after all”. He scoffs whilst scrolling through the profile. The next picture getting better than the previous one.

“So... when is the shoot and what concept have you planned?” you say whilst your eyes are glued to the computer screen.

“Mr, Hwang works for a multitude of companies but Styliz needed a model for their new pastel collection which I immedietly snatched onto. We all know how beautiful you look in pastels y/n” he said attentively to which you smiled, adoring the interest he has for his work.

“Oh.. I also cheked your schedule and you seem free tomorrow so how about then?” he added.

“Yes! I’d love too” you said with a small nod.

“Not that you have much choice, Mr Hwang’s time is worth gold y/n” he laughed and reached for something in his cabinet drawers.

“Here, take this” he said while sliding over a light grey business card.

‘Hwang Hyunjin, Photographer’ was written in dark grey letters. A black border decorating the edges of the card.

♡

The morning sun shined thorugh the curtains blinding you temporarily. You felt after your phone on the nightstand with you hand, your eyes still closed. ‘8:05 am’ the screen showed against the background picture of your family.

You missed them, moving to a different city across the country at the young age of 18 was scary. You’ve aged, that’s for sure but you still missed them dearly. Dragging your lifeless body to the shower you hope for a day with happiness whilst the warm water hits your bare skin. It was a big day after all. A photoshoot with photographer Hwang Hyunjin. “Me... on Hyunjins work? It must be a dream...” you thought, grabbing the towel hanging on the cold, silver rack.

You dryed off your thick hair with a light pink towel with one hand whilst the other hand held your phone. “I have to look at his photos again” you thought, tapping on the Instagram icon and typing “Hwang Hyunjin” in the search bar, hoping and praying that his work was published on the social media platform.

“@ photographerHwang” was the first result to pop up and you tapped it instantly being just as surprised as you were yesterday of the beauty that his photos carried. Bumping into the table on your way to the kitchen you noticed a different photo on his feed. It didn’t look like any of the other photos because it was a selfie. You dropped your towel on the floor. No... it can’t be him... or could it?

His face looked like a work of art. Not only was the photo nicely edited with warm light emitting from your screen but the person was even more eyecatching. “It’s probably one of his models” you though as you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge.

But what if it’s really him?

♡

You threw on a grey hoodie and biker shorts before you flew out to the taxi waiting for you outside the apartment.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting sir! Here!” you said while panting, quickly pulling up a text message you got from Bangchan sharing the location of the photoshoot.

“Please, Miss y/n! No need to apologize” laughed the middle aged taxi driver softly. You were now on your way to the shoot.

Your brain was scattered. One part of you hoped that Mr Hwang really was the boy you saw on his instagram. His long, blond locks slightly covering his sharp jaw. His skin clear as day and rosy lips plump like two rose petals. The other part shut everything down, convinced that it’s one of his models that happened to be to your liking.

You opened his instagram page again.

“He must be famous for his perfect features...” you said under your breath, staring at his lips.

The whole taxi ride was filled with thoughts of him, whoever he was.

“Soon there miss y/n” the taxi driver said after 10 minutes of driving. The taxi slowed down and looking outside the window you saw Bangchan standing infront of a building that looked similar to the agency building. You waved slightly and he waved back at you.

You turned around to the driver and said; “Thank you so much sir”, giving him a generous tip and exiting the vehicle. A warm breeze latches on to you, making your hair flutter in the motions of the wind.

“Y/n! Perfectly on time” Bangchan said and hugged you.

You hugged him back, asking him about his day so far to which he responded;

“Good but going to be even better after this legendary photoshoot is done and we have the most perfect photos taken by the most influential photographer!” he sounded like a little child in a candy shop.

Your ears heated up due to his words and you smiled slightly.

“Let’s go to the second floor and get your outfit and makeup ready. A introduction with Styliz manager won’t be needed since he already knows your delightful personality” he laughed at his corny remarks and you did the same.

“You seem even more excited than me” you remarked, pressing the elevator button.

“When you see the end result you will be floored” Bangchan said and winked at you.

The elevator clanged. “Second floor”. The metal doors slided open. The eyes of a dozen stylists and makeup artists caught onto you. A slightly potbellied man in a navy colored suit approached you.

“Y/n! I’m so happy to see work with you again.” His voice was hoarse due to his age but his personality being the total opposite. You knew him well since Styliz’s chief was one of the first to offer you a modeling job in a foreign city, you only being a teenager with a big dreams at the time.

“Mr. Styliz! It’s lovely to meet you again” you smiled and sat down in a makeup chair, a girl with blond hair and big hoop earrings starting to brush powder across your nose. You saw Bangchans figure leave behind a door in the reflection of the mirror.

“Mr. Styliz, might I ask you a question?” You regretted the words as soon as the came out of your mouth. You didn’t need more information about the mysterious boy you saw on Hwang’s instagram page but you simply had to know who is was.

“Well of course y/n” said Mr. Styliz, his warm breath touched your cheek as he stood right by your side, smelling of morning coffee and looking at you through the mirror.

“Could I please get more information about Mr.Hwang?” you said, making eye contact with the old man.

“y/n, you’ll meet him soon! Then you can ask him how much you would like about his life but I must warn you... He is quite the secretive type”. The coffee breath was accentuated as he laughed.

You tried to play along, laughing a fake laugh as the hair designer started to brush out your locks. A wave of embarrassment washed through you.

The lights of the makeup mirror were getting hot, tiny sweat drops beading on your forehead which the makeup artist wiped off.

“We are done, Miss y/n” said the makeup artist, her earrings reflecting the light in the studio. You thanked her and saw Bangchan standing at the door where the cameras were.

“y/n, not much time left. Please go down the hallway and into the second door on your left, the stylist is in there fixing your outfit”. One reason as to why you loved Bangchan as your manager was his calm temper. Even in a time crunch, he always made sure to talk to you in a serene tone. After years in the modeling industry you still couldn’t get used to the ill-tempered staff. Too many times you had been forcefully dragged down corridors and streets whilst they muttered swear words at you. Even thinking about it sends shivers down your spine.

Your shoes tapped the white linoleum as you made your way down the narrow hallway, knocking on the second door to your left just as Bangchan said.

A familiar voice said; “Come in!” to which you turned the golden doorknob on the white wooden door. The tall figure was rummaging in a big plastic container filled with clothes but upon your arrival the figure greeted you with warm eyes.

“No way!! It’s y/n!” screeched Jisung. He pulled you in to a hug, his belt buckle hit your stomach through the grey hoodie.

Jisung was a stylist and worked closely with Mr. Styliz therefore you’d gotten close to him. Not only did you like him for his exquisite fashion sense which had a whole different concept each time you saw him but also for his friendliness, always being polite.

“I’ve missed you so much Jisungie” you said with a pout.

“I though it was onesided but I guess not haha”

“Don’t be silly! How could I not miss that smile of your Sungie?” you hit him playfully on the arm to which he blushed.

“Go behind that and I’ll throw some clothes for you.” he pointed at the wooden divider standing in the corner of the white room filled with clothes racks and colorful clothing.

You started undressing behind the divider and suddenly a pile of clothing was thrown on your head over the divider. You heard Jisung snicker at the yelp that came out of your mouth as you drowned in the clothes

“Jisung, you are so dead when I’m done” you said whilst putting on the last details to the outfit.

“I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry” he said pleadingly while laughing hysterically.

You stood on the podium infront of the full lenght mirrors in the room as Jisung observed you and pinned the clothes slightly.

“Not gonna lie, it’s looks really good on you. The pastels matches perfectly with your skintone.” Jisung looked on the pleaded white skirt you had on.

You looked in the mirror and shook your head in agreement. The pastel purple sweater with the white collar poking out made you look youthful and innocent. You had on patent mary jane shoes in the same purple color as your sweater. The white kneesocks were slipping down as you moved slightly, almost looking like a school girl as you bend down to lift the socks up.

“Do you like it?” Jisung looked at you through the reflection on the mirror, standing on the floor making him a head shorter than you.

“Yea! You’ve never given me a bad outfit Sungie, they’re always adorable. My favorite stylist but don’t tell that to Bangchan” you smirked to which Jisung laughed.

♡

“y/n, Jisung did a great job! You fit the concept to a tee” Bangchan stood infront of two wide dark green doors which led to the photostudio. He smiled shyly and pushed the doors open, a bright white light blinding you as you stepped in.

You squinted and held your hand infront of your eyes as you entered the studio, the air stuffy from all the white boxlights that have been working for a while.

“Miss y/n is here now, Mr. Hwang” Bangchan announced.

Your eyes felt blurry and the lights created a bokeh effect, your vision feeling like a filter. The first thing you saw was him. Hwang Hyunjin.

The shock froze your feet in one position. It was him. The selfie was Hyunjin. And he was hotter in real life.

A tall, slender figure stood on one foot, the other one behind his leg with the tip of the shoe pointing towards the floor.

“Are you ready, miss y/l/n?”.

His voice was sweeter than honeysuckle, you melted upon hearing him speak. Bangchan looked at you confused when you didn’t move, just observing the presence of the blonde boy infront of you.

“y/n?” Bangchan had a worried expression on his face as your face broke out in a massive blush.

“yeah..uh-mm..yes” you only managed to get that out before you were infront of the camera.

His willowy fingers wrapped around the black Canon camera, it fit perfectly in his hands as if it was made for him. You gulped upon seeing the veins that ran up his exposed arms, the white shirt bunched up by his elbows.

“Everything good miss? You seem distant” he said in that raspy but sweet voice.

“Uhm...yeah totally..” you looked awkward with your hands by your side as you saw Bangchan observing you with a confused gaze.

“Please tilt your head to the right and stand broad with your feet” Hyunjin commanded to which you complied. The flash of the big studio lights didn’t effect you as much anymore since you were used to this but what did effect you was how concentrated Hyunjin looked. Like a true photographer. It was obvious that he enjoyed his job by the way his eyes shined when he looked at the monitor and corrected every detail. Luckily you could stare at his figure all that you wanted since it looked like you were keeping eye contact with the camera and not him. Glancing over to the left of the photographer you saw Bangchan smiling his bright smile, signaling that he’s proud over you.

Flash

And another flash before Hyunjin looked at the monitor displaying the photos he just took, a smirk crept onto his face.

“Good job y/l/n. Could you please grab that chair over there and sit on the edge of it?” he said whilst pointing towards a small wooden stool. Reacting instantly to his soft voice and gestures you pulled the stool towards the x on the ground, making sure you were in frame.

“One leg over the other” Hyunjin said without even looking towards you, his pale veiny hands were now twisting and turning some buttons on both the camera and monitor. You shook your head up and down slightly in agreement before doing as told and as Hyunjin turned back his chocolatey brown eyes landed on yours. Now it was impossible to hide your burning cheeks, Hyunjin noticed since he laughed stiffly before grabbing the camera off the camera stand and going down on one knee to capture an angle from below. Numerous amounts of sparks from the big box lights were emitted and after every spark Hyunjin turned around to the screen which displayed your figure. Staring at him you smiled slowly, feeling your heart beat faster. Why do I feel like this by just looking at him? Your head was clouded with millions of other thoughts. Just as you started tuning out the room Hyunjin clapped his hands hard, the sound ringing in your ears. You jumped slightly which made Bangchan laugh.

“All done! Nice work everybody” Hyunjin announced loudly before bowing down to the other staff members in the room and to you as well. You returned his gesture by a slight bow of the head and quickly scurried of to Bangchan, your face hot.

“Are you sure you’re not ill?” Bangchan said softly before putting the back of his hand towards your forehead. Shaking your head from side to side you pushed his hand away.

“No, I’m fine... just so hot with the box lights you know?” you laughed fumblingly, not knowing where to rest your gaze.

You felt someone tap you on your left shoulder and you almost fainted when you turned around. Hyunjin was standing three footsteps from you, the scent of his cologne making you swoon. He smiled as he saw your shy expression and sparkling eyes.

“I though that it must have been hot, here have this”

He casually held out a waterbottle which you received with both hands as a gesture of thankfulness.

“y/n, I’m just gonna head off to Jisung to discuss something. Meet me at the changing rooms in about 10, ok?” Bangchan said, slightly leaning towards your ear.

“Yeah, see you in 10!” you said while the managers back disappeared through the broad doors of the studio. Turning back to Hyunjin his blond locks were draped infront of his eyes and as he spoke he tucked those light pieces behind his ear, revealing his small silver hoop earrings.

“I’m gonna pack up the cords now but it was a pleasure to work with you, miss y/l/n”

The corners of your mouth went upwards at his formality.

“Please, call me y/n” you said quietly, being too shy to look him in the eyes.

“Sure, see you around y/n” Hyunjin said as he lifted up his hand to shake yours. His lanky fingers were filled with bold rings, many of which were designer. A slight panic rushed through your mind as you didn’t want to scare him away with your clammy hands. The sweaty hands and the churning of your stomach was all due to Hyunjin nearness. Hesitantly you streched the tips of your fingers against the blond haired boy and his hand emitted warmth when being met with your fingertips. He smiled before turning back, his eyes forming into half moons as charming dimples errupted on his lean cheeks.

You bowed to the other staff members on your way out of the building on your way to meet Bangchan and Jisung in the changing room. The waterbottle in your hand almost slipped as you took another clunck of the fresh water and that’s when you noticed something. Stopping in the hallway where the stylists room was located you inspected the waterbottle and saw a black marker scribble on the wrapper around the bottle. Upon removing it your heart stopped. Your knees could give up at any moment from the sheer shock. Am I losing my mind? A number was loosely doodled on the white plastic wrapper and underneath it there was a message.

Call me

// Hyunjin

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms

247 notes · View notes

book-o-scams · 3 years

Text

Ed, Edd n Eddy Series Bible (1996) -Analysis-

You can all finally read/download Ed, Edd n Eddy's official Series Bible right here! Thanks again to Chuckletons for sharing this with me and to Joey/Kongiscool0518 for sharing it in the first place, the Holy Grail of lost Ed, Edd n Eddy trivia!

One of the first posts I made for this blog was the Series Bible page. It was a composite of every source we had ever seen reference the series bible so far-- storyboarders in interviews, CN's old character guides, and the biggest source, an old CN UK posting about the show. Well, I figure now that we have the official source, I better update the old page (so everyone knows it's out of date), and make this new Series Bible post using the official source! Not much new information, but I was intrigued to finally learn the true phrasings of some things we had only heard paraphrased, as well as at least one detail from the movie that I couldn't believe came up this early in conception...

Unfortunately, Tumblr has apparently updated its post system to only let me add 10 images? Gonna try and only use images for what I need since you can read the actual document above, I guess I'll transcribe it too for easier reference and so we don't ever lose some archive of this.

Quickly, let's review what a series bible is:

A series bible is how creators pitch shows to networks. They can be called “pitch bibles” as well. Bibles do not usually get posted publicly, because they are initially under a strict Non-Disclosure Agreement by the network; also the creator may simply not wish to share it because it reflects the earliest stages of development.

The pitch materials typically include early concepts for characters, locations and episodes. Sometimes it exposes secrets, in this case, Ed and Eddy’s home lives, and sometimes the stuff in it is completely abandoned because it’s so early in production, in this case, casual references to school and adults.

Alright, everybody, it's time to gather 'round and read the Ed, Edd n Eddy Bible!

THE YEAR IS 1996.

YOUR NAME IS LINDA SIMENSKY. YOU WORK AT CARTOON NETWORK. A FRIEND OF YOURS, DANNY ANTONUCCI, IS WRAPPING UP A SHOW ON MTV. YOU GET THIS FAX.

Linda Simensky immediately fell in love with this concept because as a child, she was best friends with 2 other Lindas for seemingly no reason other than the shared name.

I love how Danny decided last second to pencil in the correct names over each Ed, since they're arranged out of title-order.

"They're friends because they have the same name."

-the Logline for the series.

Fun fact: one storyboard artist for the movie observed that the movie is essentially all about challenging the series' original notion that the Eds are friends ONLY because of their name.

"A Danny Antonucci Cartuna"

-the label Danny used to use under announcements of new productions.

PAGE 1:

Ed, Edd n Eddy

They're best friends because they have the same name.

A gag laden, beat generated CARTOON bumper car ride of 3 misfit youths on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America.

Through summer vacation, part-time jobs, or just hang'n out at the corner mail box, they want to belong....but CAN'T.

From home chores, helping neighbors or eating jaw breakers, they want to fit in...but CAN'T.

Ed is into "B" monster movies, model kits and is quick to break out into rashes.

Lots of luck...

Edd is into chemistry, biology and prone to crushes.

Later...

Eddy is into pranks, is stylish and flaunts himself to the world.

Ya Right...

Ed, Edd n Eddy is a show about confusion and contradiction, that awkward part of youth, pimples, big feet, oily hair and... girls???.

Puberty is unforgiving.

I was fascinated by the lack of art on this page, it makes the pitch feel very focused. AKA logo in the corner, the title logo again up top, then the logline appears again below.

I really love the breakdown of Danny's vision of the show. "Gag-laden, beat-generated, CARTOON bumper ride." Very accurate, and I think "beat-generated" is the phrase that interests me the most. I typically think of "animation beats" as sort of a give-in-- technically all things fit a rhythm, so all stories are essentially just a montage of beats. But this does make me realize how important the strength of the beats and their rhythm are to the pacing of a cartoon and making you feel like "that was a good one." I feel like the "seasonal rot" viewers feel over the course of a show, and the way that perception differs from person to person, depends on the type of beats you want. Even though I am very into the experimental beats of a show in its later seasons, I can definitely see how season 1's beats are more typically appealing to a wide-audience, and how important a focus on that is to the longevity of a show.

I found it really interesting how the scams are initially conceived of here as "summer jobs." It adds to the sense that adults were originally meant to be present. Honestly a little surprised nobody with access to this bible had ever thought to mention that-- scams are not referenced ANYWHERE. Their image in the Series Bible is that they have summer jobs and help neighbors, which is certainly a much cleaner reputation than the Eds ended up with in the show. Makes me realize though, were some of the early scams, like Ed's Hive Bee Gone and their newspaper routes, supposed to be leaning into this early idea of them with almost legit jobs for unseen adults?

I was very amused by the repeated phrase that the Eds simply CAN'T fit in.

Loved to finally see the official phrasing for the confirmation that Peach Creek is in America. Not much different than I was led to believe, but still nice to have the true quote.

Also love Eddy being described as "stylish and flaunting himself to the world." The bold-print reactions to each micro-description is a cute idea too, I truly wonder who we were meant to picture saying those things in reaction. Each Ed? Kevin?

The "corner mail box" is an oddly specific phrase-- the Eds do hang around mailboxes throughout the series, especially seasons 1-3, and I believe the canon map does have a corner mailbox, but the idea that the Eds hang out at one specific mailbox went the way of Bro's supposed secret treehouses.

PAGE 2:

Ed, Edd n Eddy

Show Description

Gag laden. True cartoon style, inventive, non parody, fast paced, stretch and squash

Beat driven. (even when characters stop they hold with a bounce cycle. Adults never bounce. Music can play important part, not just fill.) But not a musical.

Cartoon surrealism. (viewers see the show as Ed, Edd n Eddy would, less important things tend to blend into the background, while objects of Ed, Edd n Eddy's desires are focused. Premise driven.)

The school year's over, (yeah!!!!) and the long HOT summer vacation begins (gulp). What to do?

Stuck on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America is the last place you want to spend summer break, especially when you find life confusing and contradicting.

Ed, Edd n Eddy is about friendship, and serves to remind us that they're no "good ole days," just smelly runners.

You can tackle anything, when your with your pals.

Their days are spent, for knowledge, acceptance and some cash for jaw breakers. Armed with pimples, big feet and oily hair the three amigos trek into the unknown.

Ed, Edd n Eddy are dying to be grown-ups, but they're kids, and attack adulthood as only kids would. Simple situations turn into a manic rollercoaster ride. (Don't forget your barf bag).

They just want to belong, and they're willing to pull off any insane stunt to prove it. First they need to figure out what it is they want to belong to.

Found it interesting that on this page, the show's logo is replaced with the title written in a jumbled font. Seems like the font from the show's end credits.

Hehe, the continued reactions to the descriptions. Allow me to be Double D for a moment and point out the increased use of parentheticals on this page, as well as one wrong "your".

I love Danny's insight that season 1 is framed by the context of how hyped everyone still is just to be out of school, but also the sense of pressure to make use of their break.

I really appreciate Danny getting further into the details of his summary of the show's style on the previous page. It only makes sense that he had this much of a vision that early.

A second confirmation of the cul-de-sac being in America! I'm also really into the repeated focus on the Eds finding the world "contradicting." I always loved how EEnE's inexplicable cartoon antics supported that sense that the Eds are highly aware of contradictions in both societal things and the actual characters.

WOW, so I'm fascinated by this dual reveal. Before the wiggling outlines, which Danny usually calls a "boiling line" and describes as a tribute to wiggling inking in early animation, the series bible instead refers to him wanting the characters to do the iconic Fleischer "bounce," which is a much more commonly recognized rubberhose animation technique. Very interesting that Danny decided not to stick to that. Did it feel too out of place? Or was the overseas team not willing to animate a weight-shifting for every single held pose? Haha, guess I can see why boiling was an easier compromise. I wonder if he had any other ideas for how to make it more of a 1930s cartoon.

The other reveal to me here is that the movie's choice, that adults don't always wiggle in the show, was an idea from the very beginning! I guess I can better understand now why it's just too difficult to communicate a stylistic choice like that overseas-- no point making Bro not wiggle, that'd just create confusion.

Also, really disappointed that my wish for a musical is officially squashed in the series bible itself. That's a tragedy. The show's over, ya couldn't let me dream, Danny!? Conversely, I love Danny's forethought to say "non parody," I definitely noticed and appreciated EEnE's avoidance of derivative parody humor.

My spouse had to point out to me that Danny probably means sneakers here, lol. Canadianisms!

The comments about the Eds wanting to grow up but needing to figure out what they want to belong to are so great and relate to the movie so well. I've heard those comments before, but the correct phrasing was cool to see.

PAGE 3:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Ed in right corner)

Character Description

Attention deficiency syndrome.

He has trouble...

He can't....um...

OK, he draws all day in class.

When Eddy gets a bright idea...Ed's in.

Ed is easily talked into doing Eddy's "hard work". He has great physical strength.

Ed's happiest with his Model kits and B-monster movies. He draws his knowledge from his movies.

Ed smells. Flies are attracted to him.

Ed has sayings for all situations

ED: "you can change your shirt, and Bingo was his name..."

Ed's perpetually a slave to his younger sister's whims and whines.

Ed may have to baby-sit his sister, or let her watch whatever she wants on TV, or let her dress him up in mom's clothes.

Ed breaks out in Rashes. He's allergic to practically everything, especially Guinea Pigs.

Ed's Mom xerox's his sketches and doodles for her therapist.

Ed's Dad hopes to pass on to his son, his knowledge on "pre-owned" auto sales.

Very cute bit wasting the space at the top of the page. Danny seems very invested in Ed's personality already. The old sources we used to have definitely tried to condense these down to simpler blurbs.

Weird how Danny wants to essentially diagnose Ed with ADHD here (phrasing it very poorly, but it was the 90s and... Canada?). I don't know enough on the subject to debate it, but I still gotta point out Ed's canonical cracked skull!

Interested in the comment about Ed being most allergic to Guinea Pigs. I don't think that animal was ever even mentioned in the show. Eddy mentioned an old gerbil once....

Neat to finally have the real phrasing of the official word on Ed's parents! I saw someone comment earlier that this seems to be hinting Ed's Dad is selling stolen cars. I've never thought to question the legality of his apparent second-hand-car dealership (I imagined he works with Eddy's dad, who has received a legitimate award for his salesmanship), but those quotation marks are certainly making Mr. Ed's practices questionable! Best case scenario, Danny meant that more like italics or something, but maybe Ed's dad IS up to no good...

PAGES 4 & 5 (Ed's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGE 6:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Edd in right corner)

Character Description

Edd

is really smart.

is really quiet.

Edd is unnaturally-- polite.

Edd hasn't been allowed to take gym ever since the Dodge ball incident. He's been excused to free study time in the library.

Edd doesn't like it when people touch his things.

EDD: "You may enter in my room, but don't touch my Lego robot. Thank you."

Edd's learning to play Peddle steel guitar. (his Mom makes him)

Edd's prone to "crushes". Girls in School, in his neighborhood, TV, anatomy books. He mails "true loves" his socks.

Edd is always ready for action, even though he can calculate the implications.

Edd constantly mumbles.

No one ever sees Edd's parents. They both work nights. They communicate to their son solely through Post-it notes. Edd's not allowed to touch anything in the house while they're gone. Anything.

Interesting how Danny slightly differentiates the barely-used space at the top here from Ed's description, to characterize Edd as more quiet and mumbly, adding an awkward "--" mid-sentence, perhaps to create the impression that Edd halts to choose words carefully.

Everything on this page feels familiar, from the character guides and other old sources. The most interesting thing to me here is that Edd's Mom forcing him to practice Pedal Steel Guitar is established this early, don't think I knew that, but I had noticed that it existed in his room from ep 1.

I love how the explanation in the beginning for why Edd goes along with their dumb schemes even though he's smart is basically just "he's always ready for action." ?!? I guess in a way???

That weirdly phrased Edd quote amuses me because it references Lego, just like the original concept background for his room before somebody nixed the copyright-namedrop.

Edd's prone to crushes thing has been reaffirmed over and over in character bios even though it really doesn't come up outside of the cupid magic in HPH and the pilot-episode heart eyes at Sarah that are barely canon. Still, I've always loved the truly disturbing statement that he mails "his true loves his socks" and how that managed to make it into canon with a comic book example, a cel animation example and a digital era example.

PAGES 7 & 8 (Edd's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGE 9:

Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Eddy in right corner)

Character Description

Eddy

Exhibitionist.

Megalomaniac. (quote from his report card)

Eddy is the unofficial leader of the trio.

He's always got a plan, a stunt or a weird noise.

Eddy's the "class clown". He loves showing off. He loves being the centre of attention-- no matter how stupid the reason is.

Eddy is the only kid in his grade to have been expelled for aw hole week from school. It was his turn to set up the video for science class. He switched "Our Friend Yeast", for a video he "borrowed" from his parent's room.

Before Eddy's brother went....away, he enlightened Eddy with the "legends" of the neighbourhood. Eddy knows where all the abandoned tree houses are, which sewer pipers are safe to spelunk, and the secret recipe for the "El Mongo Stink Bomb" (it's been in the family for years).

He is the one who is most able to pretend that he knows it all... and doesn't care what anyone else thinks about him.

His genes are working the fastest.

Eddy's Dad is constantly concerned that Eddy may grow up to be a ...figure skater.

Eddy's Mom never believes his little darling was involved in such a heinous act.

Funny choice that Eddy's wasted-top-space is just two one-word descriptions, and allegedly lazily swiped from his negative report card.

Wow, we knew the report card quote and the "Our Friend Yeast" story from the UK show guide, but now we also know Ed's page says that Ed draws in class, and now I realize that Ed and Eddy have series bible school blurbs to match Edd's classic dodgeball incident blurb. Anyway, it's great that Eddy's showed his entire school some sort of sex video his parents have.

Very interested that the phrasing for the Bro/El Mongo Stink Bomb blurb even seems to suggest it's a family recipe. Eddy's Dad did have prankster stuff in his closet in JJJ... did Bro learn his prankster ways from Dad?? The neighborhood's secret tree houses have come up in other descriptions (at best, I'd say this could be related to that creepy shack the Eds found in the woods), but I think it's new info that Eddy personally learned the sewer routes from Bro. Interesting...

Thankfully, I had already heard about the Bible's awkward reference to Eddy being the most pubescent as "his genes are working the fastest," lmao.

Once again the Double D in me comes out to point out that the description of Eddy's Mom seems to switch to the Dad's pronouns.

PAGES 10 & 11 (Eddy's turn sheet and expression sheet)

PAGES 12-14 (Sarah, Jimmy, Rolf, Jonny, Nazz, and Kevin lineup of all 6, then 2 zoomed in lineups of the first 3 kids and last 3 kids)

(Funfact: the kids' designs were allegedly freelanced to an outside studio, hence why their refined later-season designs are so different from these lizardy starting places, lmao)

PAGE 15: (images of Sarah and Jimmy next to their blurbs)

SARAH

Ed's baby Sister.

It's her way or the Highway.

She has everything done for her, if NOT she'll "make" them do it.

She can be quick to judge.

Whinney.

A tatrum for every occasion.

More than a handful for Ed...or Edd and Eddy.

Thinks Edd is kinda cute.

Wants Eddy to MOVE...to another planet.

JIMMY

Sarah's best friend

He is always playing with girls, boys are just too tough.

He is accident prone, when ever we see him he has a different affliction, ie: band-aids, patches, casts, lumps...etc.

He is very clean.

The Ed's frighten him, "They're such brutes".

I'm surprised how much of the UK guide was accurate to what was really in the bible for them! Also surprised Danny misspelled "whiney" and "tantrum," one right after the other. Is this how Sarah spells them? ...Sorry, Danny, I yam what I yam.

PAGE 16: (images of Rolf and Jonny next to their blurbs)

ROLF

First generation of a landed immigrant family.

Nationality not important.

He's proud of his heritage.

He has peculiar traditions and/or customs.

He eats "weird" things.

He has hair on his back..... "yuck".

He confuses the Ed's to no end.

He confuses the other kids to no end.

JONNY 2x4

He is a wanderer and very inquisitive

From early morning to supper time, he is always outside playing, with his buddy, "Plank".

"Plank" is a wooden board that Jonny drew a face on with a crayon.

Jonny has wonderful conversations with Plank. ...Plank is a piece of wood.

Jonny makes himself very "accessible" to the Ed's.

Found it interesting that Rolf's bio is less clearly phrased than the UK bio set it up to be-- there they made it sound more like he mixes up who the Eds/kids are, here it's unclear whether it means that or (more likely) just means the obvious statement that everyone finds him confusing. If it's that, what a lame hollow bio Rolf got. This kid's based on you Danny, show some of that personal side!

Always loved Jonny's description, his life sounds so cute. Playing outside literally all day. Interesting to have it confirmed that Jonny drew Plank's face, I preferred to think the Eds drew him and sold him to Jonny, but whatever.

"Accessible" has always been an important vague description of Jonny to me. It really only applies to how chummy they could be with him in season 1, but it still sorta applies to his personality throughout the series as well.

PAGE 17: (images of Nazz and Kevin next to their blurbs)

NAZZ

She's cool, calm and assertive.

She is the most matured of the kids, or so she thinks.

She's into make-up and fashion magazines and Boys.

Sarah thinks she's awesome, wants to be just like her when she grows up.

When she enters a scene, all activity stops... boys freeze, they sweat, their hearts beat faster and faster. They lose their ability to talk. When she leaves, they recover and conclude it was something They ate.

She thinks the Ed's are funny.

KEVIN

He is cynical and sarcastic.

He thinks he knows the "routine". That's because he watches "60 Minutes".

It got a big laugh out of me that Kevin's description is only 2 sentences long. Nazz even has a more detailed character description from inception than Kevin. Love this for them.

Who's the Eds' rival? Well, he's cynical, sarcastic and he watches 60 Minutes, doesn't that tell you enough!?

I love the "mature... or so she thinks" remark about Nazz, a grounded flaw for her to have, being a little overcommitted to being mature like Eddy. It also perhaps suggests naiveté that makes it a little more reasonable that they didn't notice they were dumbing her down at the end of the series, but I do think the movie version of her better reflects the Bible's concept.

PAGE 18:

The Other Neighborhood Kids

Lineup of May, Lee and Marie.

The Kanker Sisters

These gals are tough. They bother, bully, provoke and bewilder everyone.

They live in a motor home park on the other side of the Cul-de-sac. The other kids have never been there.

They are proud of their Tammy Faye Baker memorabilia.

Their project "Cooking with Ketchup" closed down their school for a whole week.

No one likes them, especially the Eds.

They are determined to marry the Eds. They want them to do their dishes.

Amused that the Kankers are essentially being labeled backgrounds characters here, the role they mostly fell into in season 5. "Other" neighborhood kids...

I love that the Kankers have a school blurb to match each of the Eds', and that theirs has similar destructive-intentions to Eddy's video premiere story.

I believe all of this was all known from the UK guide as well, but still, neat stuff!

PAGES 19 & 20 (zoomed in Kanker lineup and their height chart with the Eds)

PAGES 21 & 22 (early promo art that used to be on CN's old Eds webpage, the art of the Eds eating jawbreakers at the end of ep 1 with the overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy love JAWBREAKERS!!!", and the art of the Eds all running with overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy see something shiny...."Jiggers." That weird "jiggers" statement at the end was normally edited out and I don't know what it means. Looked it up and it seems to be Chinook jargon (like when Ed said he was "skookum at X's and O's") usually said in the same sense as "CHEESE IT!")

PAGES 23+:

The rest of the pages in that bible download are from a 2004 storyboard test. The storyboard sample "It's Raining Eds," which we've seen some submitted samples of before, interpretations with Ed attempting to fly or chew gum and Edd making radioactive gum, I was surprised to find out the outline is just the original outline for the opening sequence to season 3's 'For Your Eds Only', seemingly Jonny was not written into the original outline (or was excised for easier testing purposes) but Kevin's brief cameo was. Now I wonder if they knew this would be used for a test when they wrote it, and if they would've come up with a less random way to include him if weren't forced to be a concise bit for testing's sake. (Your limit is typically 40 storyboard pages in my experience.)

I also noticed that in the included background references, the anonymous adult neighbor house next door to Ed's is officially just referred to as a "generic house."

My analysis ends here, but be sure to download that sometime and enjoy all the raw storyboard sketches at the end of the document!

#ed edd n eddy #series bible #aka cartoon inc #aka cartoon #discovery #eene news

102 notes · View notes

stories-by-rie · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5 - Heart of Silver

In the present, still in the dead granny’s house, Evelyn and Ariel search the cellar for clues and slowly start to understand the curse better.

words: 2614 || masterlist

The air in the cellar was strangely musky. From all the dust and cobwebs, it was clear that the old granny hadn’t gone down into the cellar for any longer than she had avoided going upstairs. It was hard to breathe, probably due to mold growing on the walls, mold they couldn’t see because none of the lamps were working.

“This feels like a deliberate attack on my person. That old lady knew I was going to end up here with the uneasiness that creeps over me in the darkness. Disgusting.” Ariel had flipped their phone open but it was only a little light to help them see. Evelyn had turned on the flash-light on her phone, but the battery icon was blinking red already, so it was only of little help for the time being.

No new notifications.

With the sparse light of their phones, even combined, it was hard to make anything out in the cramped place. Whatever use the four rooms must have had, they all seemed to be storerooms now. It was impossible to make out every single detail, but the amount of Easter rabbit decorations was concerning, to say the least.

“Maybe she was really into bunnies. I, personally, would never judge anyone for what they collect.” Ariel put their hand down on a pink rabbit with fake feathers on its neck.

“As you shouldn’t,” Evelyn replied at the thought of the amount of- well, everything in their flat.

It wasn’t just tasteless holiday decoration, though. From the little that was recognizable, they could find dysfunctional vacuum cleaners, stacks of old garden magazines and old workout gear.

“Was that granny ripped?” Ariel asked at the sight of an old ergometer.

“She was a granny!” Evelyn said and shook her head, both as an answer and as a general reaction to Ariel.

“Old people can work-out too, Evelyn! Oh, look! A cursed mirror!” they exclaimed and jumped into a corner where a big wall mirror hung. Evelyn could hardly follow their words, least of all their movements in the dark space.

So she just reacted and yelled, “Don’t touch it!” -- idiotically, of course. Because Ariel was a curse broker and knew not to touch cursed objects, and also they weren’t a child and Evelyn not their mother. For some reason, despite those three facts, Ariel still touched it.

“No worries, no worries. This one only activates on full moons. You can see it on the symbol in the corner, see?” They held their phone so that Evelyn could just make out some lines that had to be the symbol Ariel had spoken about. She didn’t understand them, it was not her forte after all, and she was too pumped on stress and anxiety to really care.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m a bit on edge and-”

“No need to apologize. Thank you, for looking out for me,” Ariel replied with their soft voice that felt so much more stern than any other. Evelyn couldn’t help but believe them. She smiled, forced but in a way that would have been honest, had her emotional state allowed her as much.

Ariel’s eyes widened. First horror, then understanding, and then excitement ran over their face, leaving them with a crooked grin.

“What-” As Evelyn turned around, the white light of her flash-light hit a high figure, a dusty blanket covering it completely. The fabric’s folds gave the hint of a human statue, enough to let Evelyn’s blood run cold. For some reason, she didn’t have to uncover it to know what was beneath it. In the end, it was Ariel who clenched their fist around a drape, hesitating despite their obvious curiosity. With a flick of their hand, the fabric slid off the statue, their lights letting the heavy dust shimmer in the darkness; then reflecting off the silver boy in front of them.

In contrast to the pictures Evelyn had seen in Ariel’s books, this boy looked nearly calm. Maybe there was some sadness in his eyes that could not compare with the smile on his lips. He looked nearly peaceful.

“That would explain why she seemed so invested in curses and the supernatural,” Evelyn whispered, not trusting her own voice to speak louder. “I think it might be the ghost I saw in the study before.”

“Seems very likely, I agree,” Ariel said.

It was hard to bring the chaos in her head to a stop, to grasp a single thought. When she was eventually successful, the only thing she could fathom was the feeling of hope. If this kid had looked content in his death, then maybe it would not hurt after all. If it wasn’t as painful as previous pictures had made it look, then maybe she would manage that part.

“This child got hit by it quite young. All this time the fork was the curse medium and they did nothing about it? This case never made it to the books, I really wonder why?” Ariel mumbled and as they stepped closer to look at the kid better, Evelyn’s phone battery gave a last warning sound and then died in her hands.

Ariel gave a huffed sigh of annoyance and held up their old phone closer, even if the light was multiple times worse, not to say completely useless.

“Maybe it was her son? If she had told the authorities about it, his body would have been taken away, no? With such a high ranking curse, it would have.”

“No one is allowed to take a cursed body away, even if it’s a high-ranking curse,” Ariel corrected, and then, quieter, added, “Though, of course, just because authorities aren’t allowed doesn’t mean that they don’t do it.”

“Mother could not bear to part with me,” a thin voice behind them said and as they turned around, the boy from before stood right in front of them again.

His next words were hard to hear over the loudly pounding heart in Evelyn’s chest, “No curse-broker wanted to take my case, they said it would be hopeless. There were more urgent ones.”

In the near total darkness, his shape looked much more solid than most ghosts Evelyn had seen before, the faint shimmer of death old, the ash to his feet already thick. Probably subconsciously, Ariel stepped a bit closer to her, took their glasses off.

“Do you know how to break the curse?” Evelyn had the mind to ask, not that it was really her decision, but at least the question was put out there. Yet, the ghost did not answer.

“My mother tried so hard to save me. But the curse moved too quickly. I was gone within three days.”

Evelyn could not gasp or cry. She just stared at the teenager, the hollow thing that was left of him, and listened to the words that promised her doom, to the constant trickle of the ash at his feet. Only distantly, she heard Ariel typing on their phone furiously.

“What cursed you?” Ariel then asked, looking up from behind their phone.

“I wish I would have had a few more days. Maybe one day would have made a difference.”

“Have you gained insight of the curse through your death?” Ariel pressed again while Evelyn could only stare at the flimsy figure.

“I think I will go soon. Mother has been gone for so many days now. I am all alone.”

“Why aren’t you answering my questions? What’s wrong with you?” Ariel did not yell, Evelyn was certain they never did. But at this moment they seemed as close to it as possible. Still, the ghost looked completely out of it, staring between their heads at his own silver statue.

“I am very tired. I think I really want to go now.”

“It’s fine. You can rest now,” Evelyn said with nearly no voice at all, and carefully put her fingers down to his forehead. A human touch, to remind him of death. Under it, he crumbled. In a matter of seconds, all that was left of him was ghostly ash (not real ash at all), that seemingly fell through the ground – or perhaps became one with it. Soon, she might find out as well.

“What the fuck, Evelyn?” There was even more anger in Ariel’s voice now, “This was our one chance to get answers to save your life and you just sent him off? He might have said something useful! Now we’re back at nothing!”

Only then, Evelyn truly realized the extent of her actions. Sorry, however, she was not.

“You know that there was no information about the curse we could have gotten from him. He was already way too far gone, I have seen it often enough. If you had continued questioning him, then all we would have achieved is to torture him in this loneliness. It might have driven him even more insane, nothing else.”

There was just another curse for an answer, and then they turned around and stalked out of the cellar, as well as that was possible. Some items toppled down their stacks, and just as clumsily, Evelyn followed. It was not until they returned to the ground floor, that Ariel stopped.

“I really dislike darkness. I can’t see when it is completely dark,” they said, as if they needed some sort of explanation to walk out on Evelyn after such a disaster.

“It’s fine. There was nothing more we could have found down there.”

“How late is it?” Ariel asked, only to check on their own phone. “Nearly two am,” they muttered and then looked around the floor to the entry door.

“We can go if you don’t need to look around any further,” Evelyn suggested. Even if the prospect of leaving alone made her anxious. If there were any clues to a cure, wouldn’t it be here? Shouldn’t they stay until they found something – or at least searched everything until they could be certain that there was nothing to be found? If the boy had died within three days, then she only had two more days to live as well. Could a curse even be dealt with so quickly? Even if it was Ariel who worked on it. Really, the best would be if she just would get her affairs in order and-

She reached for her phone, forgetting that it had died. There wouldn’t be anything new anyway.

“Well, we still haven’t found out what caused the noises before. Not that I have a great desire to do so. But even if we don’t keep looking for it, we should stay a bit longer.” Ariel turned to her with a look that was impossible for Evelyn to read. It could not be a good look. She wanted to ask about the implications, but her breath came too fast and too shallow to really form words in her mouth. “That’s the point where we tackle more drastic measures. I do have some nolly-powder with me, so if you happen to have some face masks, we could give in and try the powder search to find the medium’s traces?” The longer they talked and stared at Evelyn, though, the more the furrow between their eyebrows increased. “Evelyn? Are you o-” They stopped short.

Evelyn wanted to reply that she was not really that okay, that it got hard to breathe and, if she really listened to her own body, that she felt like the silver was weighing her down so much that taking another step seemed just impossible.

But what she eventually said was, “I have face-masks in my car.”

Ariel eyed her with a suspicious look, but whatever they were thinking did not make it out of their mouth, so Evelyn decided to ignore it.

Rain dripped down, even if just lightly now, and it still coated Evelyn’s skin in a thin veil. If she turned into a silver statue outside, rain would probably make louder dripping sounds on her body. In winter, the snow and rain would drape her in a layer of ice. Like a true piece of art.

With shaking fingers, she got the face-masks out of the glove compartment and walked back inside where Ariel was working on plastic bags with their powders. For a while they worked in silence. She handed them a mask, put her own on too and watched as Ariel committed to the chemistry before them in ways that simply were beyond her. For all the caffeine they ingested at most random times, they had incredibly steady hands. With those steady hands they kept at it until a dark red light glowed up for a few seconds.

“So, in the worst case, which also might be the best case, this powder will tell us for once and all what the curse medium is. Except for about seven percent of the cases where nolly-powder doesn’t work, then we will be absolutely fucked.”

“Let’s just do this,” Evelyn muttered and gave them a nod.

With a sigh they filled the powder in their hands and then simply threw it up into the air. As if out of nowhere, wind twirled it through the whole floor, let the particles dance in their search for something to hold on to. It could have barely been a minute. Short enough for Evelyn to hold her breath and wait with tension in her shoulders.

Then, all at once, the powder turned, nearly grew in its ferocity, and shot straight at her. Before it could wrap around her completely, though, Ariel gave a sharp order that cut right through it. At once, it dropped down to the ground, mingled with the dust of time and ghosts.

“Are you okay?” they yelled once they reached her, a hand reaching out for her arm before they thought better of it.

Evelyn was shaken by sneezes and didn’t even manage a gesture.

“This horrid sneezing. I am so sorry. It’s really so pesky. People are working on a better powder if that helps? Let’s get you out of here, okay? I will fix you a cup of tea to rinse most of it out-” A sneeze broke them off, and a single touch made them freeze. Evelyn followed their gaze down to where they had reached out for her hand, and only found silver.

To her great dismay, time did not stand still. Even if she stared at it so still as if a statue already, she could clearly follow the silver spreading. Along with it, her heartbeat increased as panic kicked in. Evelyn looked up as Ariel’s hand travelled up her arm where she could still feel their skin and warmth.

“I can only imagine how it feels. But I do know that it is not yet too late. Let me fix you.”

Tears came hot in her eyes, her throat aching once she spoke, “Please. Help me? I really don’t want to die yet.”

Ariel smirked and pointed towards the door. They sneezed a few times. “Of course I will! I’m really looking forward to being the greatest curse-broker of this century. Nonsense! The greatest curse-broker to have ever been and ever will be. You’ll see how quickly you’ll be rid of this curse. But first I will make you drink copious amounts of nettle tea to- oh shit. I am out of nettle tea.” They sneezed.

“I have nettle tea at home,” Evelyn pushed out between multiple sneezes.

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

“That’s good. Then your place first. But I am driving.” Ariel held out their hand for the key, and considering how weak Evelyn was in her knees, the matter left no room for protest.

_____

#writeblr #novella #my writing #original fiction #fantasy #urban fantasy #ghosts #wip; heart of silver #heart of silver chapter 5 #tw death mention #because ghosts #tw body horror #very light cause she's still turning into a silver statue

12 notes · View notes

imaginedhaven · 3 years

Text

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Six

Link to Masterpost

I am... running low on prompts for this! I have one really good one I think I’m going to explore for part seven, and then a few more that go really well together a ways further into what I think the story here is going to be, but almost nothing to tie them together. I COULD just write out that story, but I have so loved responding to your prompts and they really have driven this story to what it is. Feel free to send more my way!

This chapter uses two prompts:

“You’re on level 176.” / “Can you judge me harder?”

and

“You’ve been replaced.” / “All right, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.”

Enjoy!

~*~*~

“You’re on… wow, level 176. How have you not gone insane yet?”

Aelin didn’t even turn to look at the speaker, too focused on the puzzle game she was playing on her phone. “Wow, Rowan, can you judge me harder? You know I’m so very into you judging me for the things I do to stay sane when I can’t even walk.”

“Damn, Aelin, you talk that way to every guy who walks through your door?” the voice laughed.

Finally setting her phone aside, she turned and shouted happily when she saw Sam standing there instead. “Gods, I’m sorry, I lost track of the time,” she said as she rushed—or hobbled, she supposed—to hug him.

“And you’ve gotten worse at telling voices apart,” he laughed. “I guess I should be flattered, though, if you really thought I sounded like Tall, Brooding, and Handsome.”

“You’re not even into men,” she protested.

“If anyone could persuade me, it’d be him. But that’s beside the point. You seriously forgot we moved Girls and Sam day over here so you wouldn’t have to get a ride?”

Aelin grimaced. “Uh, it’s been a long week?”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Nice try. Some of us actually had to work this week.”

“Wow, rude.” Even as she was saying it Aelin tugged him to the couch. “You’re going to have to make that up to me, you know.”

“I know,” he grinned, holding up a small paper bag.

Aelin’s eyes widened and she snatched it from his grasp, tearing it open to reveal several bars of chocolate. “Gods, I love you.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat sounded behind them, and Aelin whirled around to find Rowan coming back from his afternoon run. “You do realize there are more rooms in this house than the living room for that, right? You’ve got options that won’t traumatize your roommate.”

Aelin blinked, and then began to laugh, clutching at the cushions of the couch to keep herself relatively upright. “Oh gods, you thought… you thought we…” She couldn’t even get all of the words out.

Sam decided to take pity on her, grinning over at Rowan. “That’s ancient history. Like, sophomore year of college ancient. We’re better off as friends.”

“Best friends,” Aelin added as she began to recover, holding up the chocolates as some sort of proof of their friendship. “You’ve been replaced, Rowan. You’ll just have to live with it.”

Rowan only shrugged. “All right,” he replied. “We’ll see how you feel about that when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.” Before she could say anything he was walking up the stairs and out of earshot.

When she turned to face Sam again, he was staring at her. “He’s been in your shower?”

“What? No, not like that,” she stammered. “The spider thing was one time.”

“I’m just saying, you never let me in your shower. You like him.”

The door opened again, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief as Lysandra saved her from having to answer. “Are we feeling wine or whiskey?” she asked. “I brought both.”

Aelin frowned. “I’m feeling like if I say yes to either a hovering overprotective buzzard will come down the stairs and tell me it interacts with my pain medication,” she called pointedly in the direction of the stairs.

Her phone buzzed with a text alert almost immediately, and she read it with a laugh. “See?” she asked, holding the phone so they could read the screen:

Said overprotective buzzard would be absolutely correct and doing you a favor.

“Wow, who texts like that?” Lysandra asked.

“He does, apparently. And he can come say it to my face if he has something to say to me!”

Sam laughed beside her. “You tell him, Aelin.”

But the man upstairs remained remarkably silent in response, and her phone didn’t alert her to any further messages, so instead Aelin hobbled over to the kitchen and brought what was left of her brownies out of their hiding place.

“Wow,” Lysandra said when she saw them. “You actually bothered to cut them?”

“It’s not like I had anything better to do,” she replied. It was true enough; she certainly hadn’t been doing much, mostly because Rowan would glare at her until she was resting again if he felt she was overexerting herself. Feeling a flare of irritation at the memory, she promptly snagged one of the squares for herself and bit into it with a happy little sigh.

“All right, so when are we going to talk about the fact that you let your hot roommate into your shower?” Sam pressed.

“Wait, you what?” Lysandra leaned in, eager for details.

Aelin whined, head dropping into her hands. “For the last time, it’s not like that,” she protested. Still, though, she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d helped her into the bath the other day, how his words had been so rough but his hands so gentle on her as he’d…

Aelin yanked her mind away from that line of thinking, hoping she wasn’t blushing but strongly suspecting she was based on the heat she could feel in her cheeks. “You’re assholes and I hate you both,” she grumbled as they both started laughing.

“Oh, Aelin, we love you too,” Lysandra grinned.

“Besides, I couldn’t think of him that way anyway. Do you want to know why I really cut the brownies? He cut one out of the middle of the pan. And I know he doesn’t eat sweets, so I don’t think he even ate it. He’s a monster.” Aelin took the opportunity while she was venting to remind herself of all the reasons such thoughts were a terrible idea. Perhaps this time it would work.

At the very least, it was enough to convince her friends to drop the subject, and she would take what she could get in that regard.

~*~*~

Rowan didn’t emerge from his room until the others had left, and even then he was even quieter than usual as he took his now-customary seat in the armchair. That in itself was odd, but when she glanced over at him she found him looking back at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” she quipped, knowing the best way to get him to speak would be to try to get a rise out of him.

Sure enough, it worked. “You say that as though the very image of you isn’t seared into my retinas at this point.”

“I can’t tell if that’s rude or flattering.”

“Good.”

Aelin snorted. “Gods, are you one of those people who likes to think they’re all deep and mysterious?”

Rowan laughed in reply. “I am neither deep nor mysterious, trust me. You just haven’t asked.”

“All right,” she said. “Why are you staring at me then?”

“I wouldn’t call it staring, but I was just wondering if I’ll have to deal with any more exes you’re weirdly friendly with dropping by unexpectedly.”

“Oh.” This time, Aelin knew she was blushing. “No, Sam’s… Sam’s different. And we weren’t always friendly.”

“No?”

“Gods, no. We dated years ago, like he said. He was… a different person, then. He was going through a lot, and he didn’t really know how to handle it. We were over well before he broke up with me, I think.” Aelin smiled softly as she reminisced. “After that, I think it was… three years later? We were both working by then, and we happened to get hired by the same company. He tracked me down and told me everything. We both left Rifthold together eventually, and Lysandra came with us.”

Rowan shifted in his seat to look at her properly. “I didn’t know you weren’t always in Orynth. Aedion mentioned you were from here, but not that you’d had to move back home.”

Aelin’s smile turned sad. “You never asked.” After a moment, she realized that her words sounded too close to an accusation and rushed to continue. “I mean, I never asked anything about you either. I’m not trying to blame you or anything.”

“I’m certain I would deserve it if you did,” he replied.

“Hey, that’s enough being weirdly deep for one day.” Aelin paused for a moment, thinking about her next move. “What if I asked you one question about yourself, to make us even? Then we can go back to me watching my movie and you making fun of me like we usually do.”

Rowan shrugged, but looked somewhat wary. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve told me what you actually do for a living, or Aedion has, but I can never remember. So what is it?”

Her question was met with laughter, but his green eyes shone with relief. “That’s seriously what you want to know?”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Fine. I’m an editor. This whole time, and every time you’ve seen me working out here, I’ve been reading someone else’s book—or what will become their book, anyway—and tearing it apart so we can make it better.”

Aelin grinned. “Are you one of those mean editors? Like everyone’s least favorite high school English teacher, who makes everything bleed with red pen?”

“Spelling and grammar are usually taken care of for the most part before it gets to me. I just make notes in the margins about what parts of the story work and what parts don’t.”

“Mean notes?”

“Sometimes.”

Aelin finally smiled. “You know, I don’t know what I thought you did do, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

“I live to surprise,” he replied in the driest tone she’d heard from him all afternoon.

“Fine, then surprise me by not making fun of my movie tonight.”

She was met with only silence, Rowan clearly not finding her challenge worthy of a response. But he didn’t make even one sarcastic comment as the movie began, so she took it as a win regardless.

About halfway through, she glanced over at him to find his eyes once more on her. This time, however, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she only smiled.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou

#haven writes #reluctantly rooming #rowaelin

86 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Reunions

Request: Hi! Can i request an imagine where reader is Sirius daughter, and older than Harry and she’s like an older sister to him, She promides Sirius that she’d always protect him, as he couldn’t when he was away. Probably she gets hurt all the time by doing this, but she doesn’t care. If you want, can you make her date Fred or something, and you can add some angst, or whatever. Develop as u wish, hope u like it! Sorry if it’s not very clear! xx

A/N: Here it is @play-morezeppelin ! Thank you for your request, I hope you like it! I really enjoyed writing, I’ll admit I struggled to start it but once I got into, I couldn't really stop. I hope I’ve done your request justice - I had to have a reunion between Sirius and the reader!

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader (romantic), Harry Potter x Reader (platonic), Sirius Black x Reader (familial).

Warnings: swearing, angst, some violence

Word count: 3.3k

A letter from your father, that was all you had left of him. A letter asking you, begging you, to watch out for baby Harry.

For the first fourteen years of your life, you are unable to due to Harry being raised by his muggle aunt and uncle, but also being far too young. You needed to be raised yourself.

Your arrival at Hogwarts introduced you to the Weasley twins. Fred and George quickly became your best friends from the moment you were sorted into Gryffindor. You also had to be honest with yourself, this last year you had been catching yourself looking at Fred in a different light; looking at him as more than a friend. It felt natural with Fred – to go from a friendship to a relationship, as if it was always meant to be. You only hope that he felt the same way.

The arrival of Harry Potter at Hogwarts and his sorting into Gryffindor had made you miss your father more than usual. Your memories of Harry were few and far between, visiting him often as a baby but never seeing him again after the unfortunate deaths of his parents – of your godparents.

A friendship is quickly formed between you and the boy you once thought of as family. Helped along by your friendship with the Weasley twins. Your friendship group starts to blend across year groups and there isn’t a thing you would do to change it, cherishing every single friendship between the trio: Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Through his first year at Hogwarts, you had become somewhat of a rock for Harry. Someone he could come to if he wanted to speak freely about his worries or his parents. You wished you could help him; through every new bit of information he found about his parents, he ended up grieving them all over again. He would come to you when that happened; Harry felt an almost kinship with you – he couldn’t explain it, he just knew that you would understand.

If you had one complaint about Harry and his friends though, it was that they could not, for one second, keep themselves out of trouble. By the end of their first year, you had lost count on your hands of how many injuries you had gotten trying to protect them. Their second year was no different; you had no choice to forgive Harry after had apologised over and over for getting you hurt in the process.

You could only hope and pray that their third year would be different.

“Harry?” You call out over breakfast.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Can you promise me one thing for this year?”

“What’s that?”

“Stay out of trouble for me and my health?”

Harry laughs, “I’m afraid I can’t make that promise. Haven’t you heard? There’s a serial killer after me now.”

You sigh at his answer; you realise that their third year was to be the same. You had heard about the escaped convict from Azkaban; your heart had dropped the minute you saw your father’s face plastered over every single wizarding publication. It was an outer body experience, to see your father again after so long.

You’re snapped out of your reveries by the Daily Prophet being slammed down in front of you.

“It’s like a family reunion for you, isn’t it (Y/N)?” A Slytherin says, snickering lightly.

You freeze; any chance of a reply lost in the tears that start to well in your eyes. An arm wraps around your shoulders, you don’t need to look to know it’s Fred.

“Bugger off, will you? You’re wasting your breath.” He says towards the student; they quickly turn and walk away.

Fred leans into you, whispers into your ear. “Don’t worry, love. There’s an extra-large Dung-bomb with their name on it.”

He frowns when you simply nod; normally, the idea of a prank or revenge gets you smiling and planning along with him.

He grabs your hand, and pulls you up to stand with him, “Come on, we’re gonna talk.”

You let Fred pull you from the Great Hall; he doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re in an empty classroom where he sits you down at a desk. He leans against the desk opposites and looks at you.

You start to rant, wiping at your eyes, feeling slightly foolish, “I just didn’t expect to see him. It sounds silly because of course – of course his face is going to be plastered on every news outlet in the wizarding world. Even the muggle Prime Minister was informed for Christ’s sake, but I didn’t actually think I would see him, or a picture of him.”

“It’s understandable that you didn’t. You haven’t seen your father in twelve years.”

You snort, “I know. He looks so different, Fred. It scared me.”

Fred takes a seat on top of your desk, wrapping an around your shoulder. He rubs his hand up and down your arm in a comforting motion. You can’t help but lean into his side. No words need to be said between the two of you; Fred doesn’t need to offer you words of comfort, simply being there for you through this is enough for you.

“Thank you for the Hall.”

“I’ll always defend you; you know that.”

You sniffle, “I do. You’re too good for me, Fred.”

“I doubt that. I’d like to think I’m perfect for you actually.”

You look at him, an eyebrow raised.

Fred swallows, “This wasn’t the time or place that I wanted to do this, but I’ve had a crush on your for about a year now and I would really like it if you would go out with me?”

A smile breaks out across your face, leaning up, you press a kiss to his cheek, “Yes, I’ll go out with you. I’ve had a crush on you for so long.”

Fred smiles at you, he also starts to blush.

-----------------------------------

Things start to deteriorate in school; Sirius Black enters the school multiple times. You almost vomited when you hear what happened to Ron – he doesn’t seem to be too shaken up by the event, but your stomach turns with guilt regardless. You start to panic over what could happen next; what will he do next? Has he been driven to insanity in Azkaban?

The comments made by fellow students get worse too. It has never been a secret who your father was, and you were never ashamed to be his daughter. You believed in his innocence and that was all you needed; you didn’t need the approval or belief of other students. It was becoming routine for you to receive two or three comments on your way to any class; it was becoming draining, but every single time after every single comment, you thought back to the aged letter from your father that is hidden away in your trunk. Fred stands by you through it all; defending you constantly. George has had to stock up on his Zonko product’s more times than he would like to admit to you.

Through all of this, your weekends have become your favourite times of the week. They are the days where you can spend the whole day with Fred and not have to worry about anything. Comments are still made, but you pay less attention to them on the weekend. Instead, focusing all of your energy into your relationship with Fred, your homework, your friends and Hogsmeade.

Your first date with Fred is at Hogsmeade; the day is spent together, dawdling from shop to shop. Grabbing some new quills at Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop and updating your Honeyduke’s sweets stash. It’s a perfect day, and only made better by the kiss Fred places on your lips before entering the school grounds. Your smile and blush last for days after that.

Time spent with Fred helps to ease the burden and the guilt you feel about what is happening. Fred reassures you multiple times and when that doesn’t work, he kisses you quiet. That works pretty well.

---------------------------------------------

You had known perfectly well that Harry, Hermione and Ron would visit Hagrid with the execution of Buckbeak, the Hippogriff. From the very minute they had shown you the letter from Hagrid telling them of Buckbeak’s fate, you know that they would not let it be. It was sweet, that they wanted to be there for Hagrid, but it was not worth the trouble they would be in if they were caught.

Rushing out of the common room, you could only hope that you could catch them in time.

You don’t. Instead, you see all three running towards the Whomping Willow.

You start running towards the trio the moment you see the great, black dog that you know is your father.

From there, you start to curse whatever luck you have. It is just your luck and your choice of friends that get you into messes such as these. You make a mental note to expand your friendship group after everything passes.

Entering the passage below the Whomping Willow, your breath comes in short pants. Nerves and adrenaline are taking over your system; you know exactly who is at the end of the tunnel. You never thought a reunion would be possible, and all you wanted was for it to be in better circumstances.

You stop short of the entrance. Nerves have overtaken your adrenaline, your stomach turning at the thought of seeing your father again after twelve years of separation. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes; the newspaper clipping flashes before your eyes. Would he even recognise you after so long?

You take a deep breath to steel yourself. Then you enter the room.

Ron lies on a bed; his face crumpled in pain, Scabbers the rat flailing about in his hand.

Harry and Hermione stand together in the corner of the room; Harry’s body partly shielding Hermione. His wand is raised, he looks shocked at your entrance.

“(Y/N)!? What are you doing here?” He shouts.

“Harry, I need you to listen to me. I need you to put the wand down.”

“No! Why should I? He killed my parents, (Y/N). He is the reason I don’t have my mum and dad.”

“Harry, please. Put your wand down. I need to tell you something.”

Harry looks at you; sadness, grief and anger run rampant in his eyes. You frown at him, how many times must this boy relive the death of his parents?

“Okay. Harry, here. Have my wand.” You throw your wand at him; he catches it.

“I’m defenceless now. Will you put your wand down and let me explain to you why I’m here?”

He continues to watch you, but slowly, Harry lowers his wand. You sigh quietly in relief.

“Thank you, Harry.” You whisper. “What I’m about to say, I need you to give me the benefit of the doubt. I need you all to remember that I am only two years older than you all.”

“Why does that matter?” Hermione asks.

“Because Hermione, the man standing behind me is my father.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ron shouts.

You close your eyes at the shouts coming from all three. You want to look at him, your father, but you aren’t ready just yet. You can feel his eyes on you though; taking in every detail from the twelve years he has been missing from your life.

“Sirius Black is my father.” You start, when their voices have quietened down. “Truthfully, I’m the product of a one-night stand. Sirius got full custody of me when he was told I existed; my mother agreed. I got two years with him, that’s all. Two years with my father before he was taken away to Azkaban.”

“He killed my parents, (Y/N)! Of course he got sent to Azkaban, he should still be there.” Harry shouts, his eyes glistening.

“Harry, no. I’m not trying to erase your pain, Harry. I’m truly not. But it wasn’t just you who lost people that night. I lost my father and my godparents. Lily and James were my godparents, just like Sirius is your godfather.

“He left me a letter, that was all he could leave me. A letter. In which he begged me to watch out for you Harry, and I am so sorry that I couldn’t for the first eleven years of your life, but I am only two years older than you. My befriending of you when you arrived at Hogwarts was genuine, but my father’s words always stayed in the back of my head. I made sure to look out for you, but you have an incredible talent for getting yourself into trouble.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I trusted you with so much.” Harry asks, the slight break in his voice the only evidence of his emotions.

“You never asked. From the minute of his escape, I was petrified of you finding out. It isn’t a secret who my father is, and I am not ashamed of him, so it was never hidden.” The panic within you is starting to rise; the very last outcome of this was losing Harry’s trust – you absolutely did not want that to happen.

Ron grimaces, “Does Fred know?”

You blush, “Yes. Your entire family knows Ron. I was raised with Bill and Charlie through the first wizarding war.”

Ron nods, seeming happy at your answer. His protectiveness of his older brother coming out; he did not want you lie to Fred – he wouldn’t stand for it.

Throwing a small smile in Ron’s direction, you prepare yourself for turning around.

For the first time since you arrived in the shack, you look at your father. His clothes are ruined, his hair reaches his elbows, and he’s far too thin. A sob breaks free of your lips, and he’s at your side in an instant. His hands on either side of your face, getting a good look at you. He hasn’t seen so much as a picture of you in twelve years; he cannot believe that you even recognise him.

“(Y/N)?” Sirius whispers.

You nod, tears falling freely now. “Hi Dad.”

He wraps you in his arms. He hasn’t held you in his arms since you were two years old and you were a delightfully chubby toddler. When he was taken away to Azkaban, you were barely taking your first steps, still needing to be held by your father. Now, you reach his shoulders easily where you wrap your arms, wanting to sob again from the feeling of his bones clearly poking through the skin. Sirius clings to you; savouring the fact that he’s holding his daughter after so long.

“You know,” Sirius starts, “You used to be smaller.”

You nod, “I know. We’ve missed a lot.”

“(Y/N)! Get away from him. He’s still a murderer.” Harry shouts.

“He isn’t. He never was.”

“He isn’t innocent; he sold out my parents to Lord Voldemort.” Both Hermione and Ron wince at the use of the Dark Lord’s name.

“No, he didn’t.” You state, gritting your teeth.

“Then who did?” Harry demands; all he wants are answers, and he is more than entitled to them.

“Peter Pettigrew.” A voice says; one that neither yours nor Sirius’.

Remus Lupin enters the room. After that, even more explanations are given, and secrets revealed. You knew that in the morning, you would have one hell of a headache from all the information you had to process. Your heart went out to Harry, who in the span of a few weeks has had his entire family history almost rewritten. The trust between you had been damaged, and it would take a lot of time to fix.

If possible, the night gets worse. As the group lead Pettigrew and unconscious Snape (who dramatically interrupted) back to the castle, the full moon rises. Taking one single look at Lupin, you know that he hasn’t taken his Wolfsbane Potion and he’s about to transform. All hell breaks loose from that very moment – Sirius transforms, Snape resurrects, and Harry has to follow. He has to follow. You barely get close to him before Snape pulls you back, berating you for being so stupid. You have to repress the urge to scream at him; you fight each step of the way back to castle, only calming when you realise that Ron is seriously hurt and for Fred’s sanity, you help him to the hospital wing.

Once he’s settled and getting treatment, you take a seat on one of the spare beds. The thing you want to do most is go and find your father, but you can’t move. Instead, you start to cry silently. Letting the tears you’ve hidden for twelve years finally start to flow. After what seems likes hours, from sheer exhaustion, you pass out on the bed.

-------------------------------------------

You awake in the hospital wing with Fred comes bursting in, disturbing the peace.

“Thank God, you’re okay.” He breathes. His arms wrap around you tightly, pressing you to him.

“I am.” You say, rubbing a hand up and down his back, “I’m okay.”

Fred pulls away, he looks as if he wants to run his hands all over you, to check for himself that you are truly okay with no major injuries. Fred had never known panic like it, when Professor McGonagall pulled him to one side in the common room to tell him that you were currently lying in the hospital wing. Everything was white noise after that, leaving as fast as he could so he could get to you.

You grab his hands, hold them in both of yours, rubbing calming circles into them. “I’ve got nothing other than a few scratches; go check on your brother, Fred.”

Fred frowns, he doesn’t want to leave you – not for one second. Instead, he shouts to other bed, “Ron! Are you okay?”

Ron replies, “I’ll be fine, mum and dad are already on their way.”

Fred grins at you, “I’ve checked on him. Can I stay with you now?”

You nod, opening your arms for him. The only thing you wanted at this moment in time was Fred’s arms around you. He obliges happily; his arms are wrapped around you and you feel as if you can finally breathe, as if you are finally back on earth after the most dramatic evening on your entire life. His hands rub up and down your back and you hum happily.

“(Y/N)?”

“Fred?”

“Will you tell me what happened tonight?”

“I’m sure the whole school knows by now.”

“I just want to hear it from you; to know that you weren’t in real danger.”

You sigh, “I will. Just not tonight, I need tonight to process please.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Take all the time you need.”

Looking at other beds, you can see Harry and Hermione laid out in separate beds. Fear starts to flow through your body.

“Fred, what happened to Sirius?”

“He’s been caught. The teachers are keeping him hidden in one of their rooms.”

Tears start to form in your eyes; you don’t even know; you were certain that you had cried yourself out last night. “Oh god, no. I just got him back. I just got my father back and they’re going to take him away again.”

Fred shushes you, not to stop you talking but because Harry and Hermione have awoken, and Dumbledore has entered the hospital wing. They shout for a few minutes before Dumbledore talks to them quietly. Hermione pulls a long necklace out of her shirt and you swiftly realise that she is in possession of a Time Turner; and all at once, it hits you what they’re going to do.

Harry catches your eyes for a second, nods, and then he’s gone. And all you can do is wait.

They’re going to rescue an innocent man. They’re going to rescue your father.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter x reader #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius Black #My writing #fluff #angst #fred weasley one shot #the lightning era

720 notes · View notes

fanfic-corner · 3 years

Text

Wrapped In Red

Merry Christmas, @masterofevilmonkeyness! I’ve really enjoyed writing your secret santa for @destielsecretsanta2020 this year, and it has actually ended up being the longest fic I have ever written!

First of all, here’s the playlist. My friend found some perfect songs for the different scenes, and we had a lot of fun trying to find songs with specific vibes!

Without further ado, here’s the fic. And, if you’d prefer, the link to it on AO3.

{o0o}

“So you’ll do it?” his brother’s voice crackles though Dean’s cracked phone, and he sighs. So yeah, maybe he hasn’t been on a case in a while and has been going slowly insane just hanging around the bunker, but he also doesn’t want to leave Cas alone. Since his grace had faded completely a few days ago, the former angel had hardly left his room, and Dean wasn’t sure what he could do to help.

He rubs his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on simply from this conversation, and replies, “I’ll ask Cas.”

“Okay, text me if you’re going,” Sam responds, the phone making the muffled noises that Dean has learnt means that he is holding his phone on his shoulder, freeing his hands to talk to Eileen.

“Stop worrying, anyway,” Dean tells him, cracking his back as he stands up. “You’re on holiday. Leave the cases for a while, and I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Dean slips his phone into his back pocket and wanders down the hallway, so engrossed in his plan to invest in some thick socks because the bunker floor is freezing that he nearly walks straight into Cas. His dark hair sticks up in every direction and he is wearing an old Zeppelin shirt of Dean’s and a pair of Sam’s sweatpants, which look like they are being held up by some kind of miracle. Paired with the bags under his eyes which are so dark that Dean mistakes them for bruises, he could be mistaken for a ghost.

“Hey, uh,” Dean stutters, not sure what to say. “Sam has a case that I was thinking of going on, but we don’t have to, we can just pass it on to Garth or-”

“I’ll go with you,” Cas interrupts, his voice hoarse and croaky.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You don’t look...great. No offense.”

“I’m fine, Dean.” Cas’ steely blue eyes had always been able to pull off a frighteningly good stare, and Dean just decides to go along with it. It would do them both good to get out of the bunker, in any case.

“Okay,” he agrees, “shall we go in about an hour? That’ll give me enough time to pack for both of us and you enough time to have a shower.”

Cas nods, and they part ways, Dean watching the angel hoist his borrowed pants up and disappear around the corner before shaking his head and fishing his phone out to text Sam.

We’ll take it. Send me the details, setting off in an hour.

{o0o}

Dean had tried his very best to hold a conversation when they set off on the fourteen hour drive, but he had long given up and they were only at the two hour mark. Every question he asked so far had either gone unanswered or had been graced with a monosyllabic response. It was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall. Well, no one could fault him for trying.

Flicking his wrist out lazily, he turns on the radio without looking with the kind of graceful expertise that only comes from years of driving his baby at night. It takes a full ten seconds for him to realise that the sound of jingle bells is coming from the speakers before he groans. “Nope.”

A surprisingly warm hand shoots out to stop him before he can turn it off, and Dean looks up in surprise at Cas’ imploring face. “Please can we listen to it?”

Considering what the dude had lost recently - and the fact that apparently his puppy eyes are almost as effective as Sam’s - Dean was hardly going to deny him this one thing. He did, however, have one condition. “Okay, I’ll leave it on, but only if you fish out my Christmas mixtape from the box.”

Dean never took his eyes off the road, but he was acutely aware of the way Cas stared at him for a moment before excitedly rummaging through the old box of tapes. Eventually, he pulls it out, admiring the battered stickers and fading drawings that he and Sam had added when they made it all those years ago. Cas gently slides it in and the first few notes of Mariah Carey grace the air.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, grinning wildly. “You, Castiel, are about to be educated in some proper Christmas music.”

By the time the mixtape finishes, they are both in a much better mood, so Dean decides it is probably a good idea to stop for a little bit to get some snacks and some gas. Frowning, Cas informs him that he needs the toilet, before disappearing towards the nasty looking bathroom. Dean can’t help but feel bad for him; as much as he loves being human, he knows it must be annoying to suddenly have the weird experience of a human body. They always seemed to hurt or need something, and he could tell that Cas found the whole thing incredibly repetitive and exasperating.

The gas station is like every other gas station Dean has ever seen; empty, with a layer of grime that seemed to cover everything and the bright lights that ensured that no matter what time of day it was, it always seemed to look the exact same. This one, however, is also covered in Christmas decorations. Glittery tinsel and rainbow paper chains swing from the ceiling, the air conditioning coaxing them into a gentle dance. Fake snow covers every surface, and flashing fairy lights force him to blink and look away.

Dean moves on autopilot, picking up snacks that Cas hasn’t tried yet and a couple of bottles of water, before reaching the counter. He has to yell to the cashier - who is decked out in a festive jumper and Santa hat - in order to be heard over the deafening Christmas music.

“Here,” she practically sings, disappearing into the back room for a second before reappearing with a ridiculous pair of reindeer antlers. “These are for you, sweetie! No charge. Cheer up, it’s Christmas!”

Dean tries to refuse the antlers, but the lady - Lucy, her name tag reads - is not taking no for an answer, so eventually he gives in, telling himself that it is just so he can leave this Christmas Hell and get back to driving. Cas is waiting for him outside, leaning on the car and watching as the first few flakes of snow start to fall.

Dean hesitates for a moment before offering the antlers to him. Cas just stares at them, his head tilted to one side. Sighing, Dean just steps closer and puts them on Cas’ head, laughing when the bells jingle as he tries to look up at them without taking them off. He slips his phone out and sneaks a picture of the bewildered former angel, hastily putting it away and bundling Cas in the car so that they can set off before the snow gets too bad.

“Why did you give me a pair of fake antlers, Dean?” Cas asks as they set off, turning them over and inspecting them in his hands. Much to Dean’s dismay, they wouldn’t fit in the car.

“Thought you liked Christmas stuff?” he replies, grinning.

“What do fabric antlers have to do with Christmas?”

And so, Dean finds himself spending the last leg of the journey attempting to explain Christmas traditions to Cas, who can’t help interrupting and pointing out the real facts, rather than Dean’s Christmas cracker knowledge. They go over Santa and his reindeers (“reindeers can’t fly, Dean”), the birth of Jesus (“I remember Balthazar telling me about that”), and mince pies (“why are they sweet? Mince isn’t supposed to be sweet.”). By the time they arrive Dean is so eager to escape the onslaught of questions that he doesn’t know the answer to, he hits someone with the car door as he gets out.

The actual reason that they have driven into the middle of absolutely nowhere dangerously close to Christmas is because a couple had gone missing last week and hadn’t been seen since. Usually, they would assume that this case wasn’t their kind of thing, but Sam had been asked to check it out by another hunter who knew them (and who apparently had some beef with a ton of shapeshifters), and so here they are..

Dean suggests that FBI agents might be a bit too suspicious for a small town in the middle of nowhere, so instead he and Cas decide to pretend that they are just family visiting them for the weekend. They knock on next door under the pretense of asking for the spare key, and are greeted by possibly the grumpiest people Dean has ever met.

“Fine,” the lady snaps, the half of her face visible from behind the door frowning at them in disgust before turning back into the house. “Harold, get the spare key for next door!”

“Do you happen to know where they have gone?” Dean asks politely, the pleasant smile on his face starting to ache.

“No.”

Cas raises his eyebrows at Dean, before he tries. “When was the last time you saw them?”

The woman huffs impatiently. “Probably when they went to that stupid office Christmas party. We could hear the music from here. It was so inconsiderate.”

“Oh,” Dean replies, sharing a look with Cas. “Where was this party?”

The door opens fully, a man appearing behind the lady - Harold, Dean assumes - who hands the key over to them. “It was those blasted Mitchells.” He turns to his wife, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Did you hear that they are throwing another goddamn party tomorrow, Ann?”

“Thanks for all your help,” Dean interrupts before they can get too carried away.

“Merry Christmas!” Cas adds, already backing away.

They speedwalk back across the victims’ house, making sure that the neighbours’ door is shut before they completely break down laughing. Dean can barely open the door, but when he finally manages to correctly align the key in the lock, they both tumble into the front room, shaking uncontrollably.

Dean collapses next to the couch, sliding to the floor. He takes a couple of deep breaths before managing to speak. “Sounds like we’re going to your first Christmas party, Cas.”

{o0o}

After making their way through most of the people in the town, two things have been made very clear. First of all, the last anyone had seen of the victims - Adam and Amelia Knapp - was at their office Christmas party. Which nearly everyone in the town had been at, and yet no one knew anything remotely helpful. Secondly, there was another Christmas party being held tomorrow night by the somewhat popular Mitchell family, and the chances of their mystery monster striking were high, in Dean’s opinion.

The most logical course of action would be for Dean and Cas to pretend to be guests at the party, so they could stop their creature before anyone else went missing and then they could disappear back home in time for Christmas. However, Dean had found that nothing in his life could ever be that simple, so instead he found himself standing in front of a wide array of hats, trying to wrestle a fez away from a former angel of the Lord.

Because of course it had to be a costume party, and just as the icing on the cake, it had to be a couples only costume party.

“Dude,” Dean says, finally managing to wrench the fez from Cas’ iron grip, “if we’re wearing hats, at least try a good hat.”

Dean plops an example on Cas’ head, laughing as it slips over his eyes. “These aren’t Christmassy, Dean.”

“Sure they are,” Dean says, grabbing a hat more in Cas’ size and a matching one for him. He strolls over to the till, grabbing a couple more things on the way. “You’ll see.”

Since they have a few hours to kill before the actual party, Dean decides that they can waste some of the day doing some Christmas shopping, especially after he finds out that Cas hasn’t got any presents yet. He drives them to a nearby mall, throws Cas a handful of notes and his antlers, and gives him strict instructions to buy some presents and then meet Dean in the food court in an hour.

“Why can’t we do it together?” Cas asks, and Dean could swear he was pouting.

“Because the presents are supposed to be a surprise,” he explains, shooing Cas away with his hands. “Look, I’ll see you in an hour, and if you need anything you can just call me, ‘kay?”

Cas nods and meanders off, disappearing into the crowd without further complaint.

It is nearly ten minutes later, while he is rummaging through some shirts in an attempt to find one in Sam’s size, when Dean realises that this is the first time that Cas has been alone since he lost his grace. A sudden jolt of panic rushes through him, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

Castiel was older than humanity. He had led armies of angels. He had fought against demons and archangels and every monster under the sun. He could handle buying a few Christmas presents.

But, at the same time, Dean can’t help but worry. The dude has questionable social skills at best, and he is still trying to get to grips with his brand new human body. He often has to be reminded to eat or drink water or sleep, and there were several embarrassing occasions in the beginning where he had forgotten entirely.

Dean’s hand itches, his fingers curling towards his back pocket, but he resists the urge to call and check up on Cas. He doesn’t need a babysitter. He tells himself that he should just get his presents for people and then he can meet back up with Cas as soon as possible.

The mall is packed, the usual last rush as people get the last few things they need for Christmas. Conversations and the sound of toddlers crying fight to be heard over the echoing music, festive music adding to the deafening noise. While dodging people, making his way to their meeting place, Dean tries to remember the last time he was in a mall. Certainly not recently - he thinks it may be some time before he met Cas - and he definitely doesn’t remember them making him feel this claustrophobic. The sea of people pushing against him makes him want to throw up, and he finds himself having to duck into the nearest shop to avoid the crowd, shutting his eyes and leaning heavily against a railing.

“Dean?” a deep, familiar voice asks him, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Dean cracks one eye open, laughing when he realises what shop he found Cas in. He knew he should never have introduced him to Hot Topic. “I’m fine, Cas. Just hungry.” he deflects, standing up straight and patting his friend on the shoulder.

Cas gives him a look that says ‘I know you’re lying but I’m going to let you get away with it just this once’ and instead says, “Let me pay for this, and then we can go and get some lunch.”

Not even twenty minutes later, Dean is watching Cas eat a taco for the first time and has completely forgotten that he ever felt bad, because he is laughing too hard to care. Cas looks highly bemused at the stain on his precious trench coat, but Dean thinks that, secretly, he doesn’t mind.

{o0o}

There is no question that they are in the right place when they pull up outside the address they were given a few hours later, if the ridiculous amount of fairy lights and assorted decorations are anything to go by. They can’t help but stare at the blinding display for a moment, before Dean turns to Cas to make sure he remembers the plan. “Okay, so we go in, find our mystery monster-”

“Sam thinks it is a shapeshifter.” Cas interrupts.

“Okay, so we grab this shifter, gank it, grab some food on the way out and then drive home in time for Christmas. You remember the cover story?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dean. We’re the Bassons, and we’re thinking about moving here. Do I need to repeat the rest?”

“Alright then, you ready?” Dean intertwines his fingers with Cas’ - in order to keep their cover, obviously - takes a deep breath, and then opens the door.

A wave of heat rolls out from the crowded house, contrasting with the painfully cold air outside. As they step inside, Dean picks up a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen, a mixture of turkey and cranberry sauce and mulled wine and gravy. The third thing he notices is the music blaring in from the other room, loud enough that he can feel the vibrations thrum through his body. He laughs when he realises what song it is. Space Cowboy; he couldn’t have picked a more fitting song.

After they had come home from their spontaneous shopping spree, Dean had spent an hour making the perfect couple’s costume. Considering the only supplies he had were ones he had picked up from the dollar store, he was actually pretty impressed with his handiwork. Both him and Cas were wearing their normal fed suits, however, it was the hats that really sold it. Dean had affixed - using an alarming amount of superglue - a strand of purple and blue glittery tinsel to his cowboy hat, and a set of fully functional Christmas lights to Cas’.

Cas had protested at first - “How are cowboys Christmas related, Dean?” - until he had been convinced by the hidden practicality of it: any weapons they brought with them could be written off as part of the costume. Also, cowboys are awesome. Dean has yet to find someone who can prove him wrong on that point.

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand to get his attention, nodding towards two people who appear to be the hosts of the party. The music shifts into some Christmas classic, and they make their way over so they can start ruling people off the list of suspects.

An hour later, Dean officially decides that he is never attending a Christmas party again. Luckily, they’ve only had to deal with one homophobe, who Dean ‘accidentally’ dropped a whole plate of food on, but that doesn’t mean that none of the other guests are driving him up the wall. It seems that everyone is slightly drunk apart from them, and the only reason Dean hasn’t joined in is because of the dirty looks Cas sends him every time he so much as glances towards the punch bowl.

It’s the karaoke that does him in. Cas is somewhere (Dean couldn’t tell if he genuinely needed the bathroom, or if that was his attempt at saying he was going to scout the house) and there is a woman wearing a skimpy reindeer outfit and wailing along to Last Christmas. God only knows what caused her to get on top of the table and join in while crying, but Dean suspects the answer includes lots of alcohol and the fact that the man who she had arrived with had disappeared upstairs with an elf some time earlier. Her rendition certainly isn’t going to win any awards.

With Cas not there to see, Dean manages to finish two plastic cups worth of surprisingly nice punch before he can be stopped. Considering the dude has flashing lights on his head, Cas can be remarkably sneaky when he wants to be.

“Dean, I don’t think-”

“Oh, what wonderful costumes!” a woman interrupts, and Dean forces a smile back on his aching face before he turns around to face her, just in time to see wink at him. She is wearing a green dress and is covered in baubles and tinsel, and the man standing next to her is literally wearing a massive cardboard box, wrapped to look like a present. It takes all of Dean’s self control not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“Thank you,” Cas says, and Dean wraps an arm around his waist in order to confirm that they are, in fact, a couple. The few times he had touched Castiel, he had been cold; it had felt like touching a corpse. As a human, Cas was like a hot water bottle, and even though the house was boiling, Dean couldn’t help but latch onto him whenever the opportunity arose.

“I’m Natasha,” the woman continued, staring at Dean in what he had to assume was her version of ‘seductive’ and completely ignoring Cas. “Oh, and this is Cole,” she adds as an afterthought.

Cole also winks at Dean. He has never felt so uncomfortable in his life, and he went to Hell. Although, he has also never had both members of a couple separately flirt with him while fake dating someone else.

“I’m Dean, and this is Cas,” he replies, pulling the former angel even closer into him. “My husband.”

“Oh,” Cole says, and Dean doesn’t think he is imagining the disappointed tone.

“Sorry,” Natasha adds, not sounding in any way apologetic. “I didn’t realise you were a couple!”

Dean didn’t think he could make it more obvious, but… if she didn’t believe them, then they might be at risk of blowing their cover. There were already at least seven people who had been avoiding them after the usual weird questions and some not quite realistic ploys to get them to touch a silver coin that they had brought with them.

“Why’s that?” he asks, and regrets the question almost as soon as it comes out of his mouth.

“For starters,” Natasha proclaimed, way too eager for this to end well. “You’ve been standing under mistletoe this whole time and haven’t kissed!”

Dean’s whole body freezes as they both look up, and sure enough, the bastard plastic plant is hanging directly over their heads.

“I didn’t realise,” Cas says, somewhat dazedly.

Dean takes a deep breath - there’s nothing they can do now, not with these nosy, weirdass people watching and waiting and expecting a kiss - and pulls Cas closer, turning to face him so their bodies are pressed together. In the dim lights, the lights on Cas’ hat make his startling blue eyes twinkle like starlight, and Dean wonders how he never saw how gorgeous he was before now. Maybe he had, and it had just been buried along with everything else.

“Dean,” Cas’ low voice rumbles, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Kissing a man is not so different to kissing a woman, and Dean can’t help but notice how much he likes the feeling of Cas’ chapped lips on his own. Something lights up inside him like a firework, and he realises exactly how much he wanted - no, needed this. He feels better than he has in a long time, as if a missing puzzle piece had suddenly slotted into place.

Cas pulls away first, and Dean’s mind suddenly catches up with his body. Holy shit, he just kissed Cas. He barely registers Natasha and Cole walking away, still transfixed by the fact he finds a former angel of the Lord - who is a man - devastatingly handsome.

“Dean. Dean, are you okay?” It is only the feeling of Cas’ body heat leaving him that gets him to look down, absentmindedly fixing the shorter man’s hat.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, choking on the words. “Yeah, I just gotta - I’m just gonna…”

And, like a complete and utter cowardly dick, he walks away.

{o0o}

It has been twenty minutes, so Dean can be fairly certain that Cas isn’t gonna come looking for him. Which is fine. It’s not like he was expecting him to. They only kissed to keep up the pretense, and Dean’s weird behaviour has probably ruined that anyway. It meant nothing.

The problem is that Dean can’t stop thinking about how amazing it had felt to kiss Cas. He had tasted like mulled wine and honey and the promise of a thousand lazy mornings. It had felt like flying and drowning all at once. Dean had never understood when people had described kisses as things that had nothing to do with the act, like earthquakes or lightning or fireworks, but the only way he could explain the ecstasy he had felt when their lips had touch was an act of God.

And that thought only spiraled into another: Dean had kissed an angel of the Lord. An angel. Even though Cas was human now, he still remembered the birth of existence and every word that came out of his mouth was fueled by eons of knowledge and memories and experience. He held himself with a grace that only a true warrior can execute, and to him, Dean must seem so small. How insignificant was he compared to that brilliant man?

Finally, there it is. The real issue. Castiel is a man.

It had taken some time, but Dean had taught himself, eventually, that John Winchester was a terrible parent. In fact, it was generous to call him a parent at all. It was Dean who had raised Sam, raised himself. And, even now, he couldn’t help but fall back into his old mindset, into an old version of Dean who would have done anything for his father’s approval. But, if he is being honest with himself - and, let’s be frank, it’s about time - Castiel was not the first man he had liked. He probably wasn’t even the third.

In that moment, Dean decides that he doesn’t want to be a coward any longer. If he never expected his life to be a long one, then it is all the more reason to go for what he wants now, rather than later.

Yeah, maybe he’ll lose Cas, but… the possibility of what could await him if Cas does reciprocate is far more frightening than the former angel laughing in his face.

{o0o}

Castiel considers himself very knowledgeable in Dean Winchester’s emotions. He knows exactly how long to avoid Dean after eating a slice of his pie, he knows that he can hold full conversations with just a look, and, as an example, he knows that after their kiss, Dean Winchester was panicking. Badly.

That was fine. Castiel was fine with that. It wasn’t like he had been secretly in love with a man who had repeatedly called him a brother for over ten years. Nothing like that.

Sighing, Cas gently puts his paper plate on the corner of the kitchen table, the food he had been so excited to try half an hour ago now making his stomach roll. He figured that Dean had just needed some air; he would cool down, shove all of his emotions down in true Winchester fashion, and then return and pretend that nothing ever happened. The problem wasn’t just with the fact that Cas would very much be remembering that kiss until the day he died, but that Dean had been a really long time.

Time moves differently now that he was human. As an angel, everything seemed to move so much faster. There was always something to do, the faint crackling of angel radio like a comforting background noise or a million particles to study. A blink of his eye and a century could have passed, and yet here he is, thirty minutes feeling like an eternity.

It’s by the time Cas has checked every room downstairs that he really starts to worry.

Dean is not in the kitchen stuffing his face, and he is not in the dining room drinking punch, and he is not dancing to the rather annoying upbeat song that is playing in the living room. He is not in the hallway, or on the stairs, or in the bathroom. When Cas starts asking, people give conflicting answers. A bauble saw him go upstairs, a Christmas tree could swear he was in the kitchen, an elf insists that he went outside.

Since it is the only place he hasn’t checked, Cas heads outside. There, on the floor, is Dean’s stupid hat, the tinsel loose on one side, dangling pathetically into a puddle of melted snow.

Cas immediately calls Sam, who picks up surprisingly quickly. “Cas? What’s up?”

“ImighthavekissedDeanandnowIdon’tknowwhereheis-”

“Cas, slow down,” Sam urges, forcing Cas to take a deep breath before continuing.

“We’re, uh, at a couples’ only party, and we had to kiss and then Dean freaked out but he’s been gone for ages and I think he is in trouble,” Cas says, only marginally slower than before.

“Shit. Okay, send me the address. We’re on our way.”

Sam, Cas thinks as he tries a door handle that he missed before, is excellent at coming up with plans. Maybe it’s the time spent in college, maybe it’s his years of hunting experience, but even over the phone he had pointed out things that Cas had failed to spot. Like, for example, the door to the basement.

Cas turns the phone flashlight on like Dean taught him, the beam still not strong enough to light up the impenetrable darkness. The music fades to a distant hum in the background, becoming distorted and frantic as Cas feels. His eyes have barely adjusted enough to see the familiar but unconscious form on the ground - “Dean?” - before something solid connects with the back of his head, and Cas tumbles forwards, crumpling at the bottom of the stairs.

{o0o}

“Cas?”

Cas groans. When he had finally fallen completely, he had been surprised by how much being human hurts. Something always aches, and everything is so easy to damage. Even the smallest of injuries - a stubbed toe or a papercut - hurts way more than it should.

Apparently, a combination of blunt force trauma to the back of the head and the general bruises one acquires from falling down a flight of stairs hurt a lot more than a stubbed toe.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” A familiar voice asks, and Cas tries to turn his head so that he can see Dean, instead finding out that that particular head movement causes his vision to blur and swim. When he attempts to bring his hands up to survey the damage, he can’t understand why they don't move for a moment, before his brain finally manages to catch up and he remembers the night’s events.

So, maybe he wasn’t expecting his first kiss with Dean to be followed by being kidnapped and tied up in a basement, but this is a Winchester they are talking about here.

“Come on, talk to me here.” Dean says, sounding worried.

Cas swallows, aiming to say something to ease Dean’s concern and instead causing a coughing fit. “I’m fine,” he eventually manages to gasp.

Dean snorts. “Sure sound like it.”

They are silent for a moment, the only sounds in the room an echoing drip and Cas’ raspy breaths. Cas isn’t sure how long they have been down there, but since Dean isn’t wriggling about in an attempt to escape, it has probably been long enough that he has already checked whether or not he can untie himself. From what Cas’ fumbling fingers can tell, though, the knots keeping them bound to this stupid pole are very good.

He feels utterly pathetic. He used to be a soldier - he had led armies, fought battles that humans couldn’t even comprehend - and here he was now, entirely useless, taken out by a baseball bat and kept prisoner by a length of rope. If he was still an angel this would have never happened. He could have saved Dean, he would have killed whoever did this, and they would have been back in time to enjoy the end of the party.

“What do we do now?” Cas asks, finally breaking the silence.

Dean sighs, and Cas can feel him against his back as his whole body sags down. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do but wait.”

Cas didn’t think he had ever heard Dean give up so easily, and it scared him. “What?”

“I don’t exactly see a way out of this, Cas. I’ve been trying to get these ropes off for half an hour and I think they’re probably just tighter than they were when I started.”

Cas gave an experimental yank, and Dean hissed in pain. Suddenly, the wetness on Cas’ hands made sense. “You’re bleeding, Dean.”

The hunter didn’t reply.

Cas had always thought that his death would be noble. Previously, it had always at least been in battle or a sacrifice, but this was just… pitiful. He was going to die at the hands of some random shapeshifter in someone’s disgusting basement, while wearing a cowboy costume.

“I - uh, I just wanted to say,” Dean starts, sounding unsure, “that I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” he replies, shutting his eyes in an attempt to block out the conversation. If he was going to die, he would rather not be rejected first.

“It was a dick move,” Dean continues, as if he hadn’t heard Cas. “I was just - I mean - I want to say…”

“What, Dean?”

Dean’s voice is barely a whisper. “I think I’d like to kiss you again.”

Cas’ eyes snap back open, and he hits his head on the pole in his confusion. “You would?”

“You don’t… I thought… I mean, I’m just kid-”

“Shut up,” Cas interrupts, not wanting Dean to panic all over again. “I would like that.”

“Oh. Really? Okay,” Dean replies, and Cas shuffles around until he manages to hold his hand. It’s sticky and wet with blood where Dean’s wrists have been hurt by the ropes, and every aching muscle in Cas’ body screams at the awkward position, but he thinks it might still be the happiest he has ever been.

{o0o}

Dean isn’t sure how long it is until he hears the footsteps on the stairs, but it’s long enough for him to feel much too tired for a fight. Can’t the universe just let him be happy for once? Is it too much to ask to not have to fight tooth and claw for one scrap of peace?

“Well, hello there,” a man’s voice says, and Dean feels Cas stiffen. It sounds oddly familiar, but he can’t quite place his finger on where he would have heard it before.

That is, until a second voice speaks. “What have we got here, Harold?”

The next-door neighbours. The old couple who had been complaining about the parties. Of course the only two people in this godforsaken town who they hadn’t checked were the bad guys. He should have seen it. They should have asked them more questions when they weren’t tied to this stupid pole in this stupid fucking basement.

“A pair of cowboys, Ann,” Harold tuts, and Dean cannot believe he is about to be killed by a weird old couple, of all things. He had prevented the apocalypse at least twice, had defeated God, and yet he was going to be killed by the monster of the week. Who looked like they were about three hundred years old, owned fifty cats and knitted in their spare time.

Ann walks around them, her heels clacking on the stone floor, until she comes to a stop in front of Dean. “What a shame,” she says, looking down at him like he was a stain on her shoe. “I was hoping we’d get a crier. Men rarely cry. Apart from that last fellow, of course.”

Dean’s stomach rolls, and he suddenly regrets eating so many pigs in blankets at the party.

“What are you?” Cas practically growls, his hand squeezing Dean’s to comfort him.

“Whatever do you mean, son?” Harold asks, and he sounds genuinely confused.

Oh shit, Dean thinks, letting out an amused huff of breath. Great. He isn’t even going to be killed by the monster of the week. He’s gonna be killed by an actual old person.

“Is something funny, sweetie?” Ann demands, frowning.

Dean smiles up at her, deciding that he may as well die how he lived: a snarky bastard. “Sorry, I just can’t believe that I got kidnapped by someone’s grandma.”

Ann steps closer to him, crouching down so she is his height. A sliver of silver reflects in the dim light like a shooting star, slicing downwards and cutting a thin line across Dean’s neck. “Don’t give me cheek, boy.”

“Let’s kill the other one first, sweetheart. Then that rude fella has to watch his boyfriend die.” Harold suggests, spitting out the word ‘boyfriend’ like it physically hurts him.

Dean clutches Cas’ hand tighter, trying not to let the panic that is welling up inside him, cold and merciless, show on his face. He tugs desperately at the ropes around his wrists one more time, hoping for a miracle that he knows isn’t coming.

“Say goodbye, now.” Ann says, and Dean shuts his eyes. He knows that he can’t deal with losing Cas again, even if he’ll be gone soon after. He spares a brief thought wondering where Cas will go when he dies; is he human enough to avoid the Empty? And even so, would he go to Heaven or Hell?

“I love you, Cas,” Dean whispered, because even though he is scared, he knows that Cas deserves to know.

If Cas says anything back, Dean doesn’t hear it over the gunshot.

{o0o}

Dying was not a new experience for Castiel, nor was dying as a human. What was a new experience was the pain he felt in his chest that no bullet or knife could replicate. It was the knowledge that he had the opportunity to be happy and it had been ripped from him. It was knowing that someone loved him and cared for him and was being taken away from him.

When Harold dropped dead instead of Cas, his heart fluttered. Maybe he did have a chance.

“Dean, are you alright?” Sam’s voice calls out, and Cas finally allows himself to relax slightly.

“Sam?” Dean asks, surprise and confusion and relief all mixed together.

Eileen appears from nowhere and stoops down, grinning at Cas and slicing through the ropes. She winks at him but doesn’t say anything, simply helping him to his feet when it becomes obvious he can’t do it by himself. Sam has backed Ann into the corner of the room, his gun pointed at her with an unwavering hand, but Dean whispers something in his ear and he lowers it slightly. He signs something over his shoulder, not even glancing away from the threat, and Eileen rushes off upstairs, essentially shoving the injured Castiel into Dean’s side.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Dean asks gently, wrapping his arm around Cas’ waist to hold him up. His wrists are still bleeding and they are both cold from sitting in a freezing basement for ages, but the simple action fills Cas with a warmness.

“I’ve been in love with you for twelve years, you assbutt,” he mumbles.

Dean smiles down at him, somehow looking charming even covered in dirt and blood, only looking up when Sam clears his throat.

“Look, we should get out of here,” Sam suggests, standing up. He’s tied Ann to the same post that they thought would be their deathbed only a few minutes ago, and he is shooing them towards the stairs back up to the party. “Eileen’s getting someone to call the cops and we don’t wanna be here when they arrive.”

Cas ducks down, for a moment, holding Dean’s hand so he doesn’t completely keel over, and grabs the two hats off the ground. Reaching up, he puts his on before gently placing Dean’s on his head. The tinsel is falling off on one side, the lights have run out of battery, and they are both caked in dirt, but it still makes Dean smile.

“Let’s go home,” Dean says, leaning down and softly kissing Cas.

{o0o}

Much to Dean’s surprise, Sam and Eileen said nothing about his new relationship with Cas. In fact, when he tried to bring it up - he knew Sam had seen them kissing for Christ’s sake - Sam just shook his head and rolled his eyes at Dean. “Jody owes me fifty dollars,” was all he said, and their discussion was over.

Cas didn’t seem too perturbed by the whole situation, and Dean found himself wondering whether it was just him who found their new relationship strange. Not that anything much had changed, for that matter. They both behaved the exact same way, with added kissing. So what if Sam thought Dean was weird for still calling Cas ‘buddy’? He wasn’t the one dating a former angel.

What Dean had decided, after their fun little kidnapping escapade, was that Cas deserved an awesome Christmas. It was his first one as a human, after all, and what kind of boyfriend would Dean be if he didn’t show Cas all the wonders of the holiday season?

And that is how they found themselves turning the drive home into a Christmas road trip.

Cas wore his reindeer antlers wherever possible, and Dean took a million photos of him. On the first day, they visited a Christmas market. Dean thought it was much too busy and annoying, but it was all worth it for the smile Cas had after drinking his first hot chocolate. On the second day, they went to a drive-in movie. Cas gave both the funniest and most irritating running commentary that Dean had ever heard, having to remind him every five minutes that “it’s a romcom, Cas. It’s not supposed to make sense.”

On Christmas Eve, they spent most of the day driving to make sure they got home in time for the dinner that Sam and Eileen had promised. They sang carols at full volume and blasted Christmas songs and Dean taught Cas how to play the air guitar. Dean couldn’t remember a time when he had felt such a sense of freedom and happiness. Maybe it was just a Christmas miracle.

Christmas day rolled around, and it was the nicest Christmas that Dean could remember having. Sam and Eileen had decorated the entire bunker with tinsel and streamers, and had even managed to bring in a huge tree from outside. So maybe not all the decorations on it were technically Christmas related, but the silver bullets were shiny and although no one was quite sure what the pentagram they were using a star on the top did, it looked pretty cool.

By the evening, they had eaten enough food to feed twenty people for a week and had exchanged presents. Sam was sitting at the table with his new fancy pens, Eileen had disappeared to take a shower with her new soaps, and Cas and Dean were firmly planted on the couch. Cas’ new fuzzy socks were warm and ticklish against Dean’s feet, and the angel was a surprisingly good cuddler.

All of a sudden, Dean sat up, dragging Cas with him. “Come on, dude. We should dance.”

Cas snorted but agreed, wrapping his arms around Dean tightly. They swayed slowly to the music, his head on Cas’ shoulder, gently singing along to the slow music.

Now you hang from my lips

Like the Gardens of Babylon

With your boots beneath my bed

Forever is the sweetest con.

Dean’s mouth twists into a smile. “I could spend forever with you,” he whispers, and he leans down to kiss his angel again.

#i hope you enjoy!#destiel #destiel secret santa #my writing #fanfic

31 notes · View notes

demwhore · 4 years

Text

Rocketeer (N.YT)

Pairing: Jaeger Pilot! Yuta & Female Reader

featuring some nct and wayv members

Jaeger! au | Pacific Rim! au

Description: It takes high courage to ride a Jaeger and to kill a Kaiju.

Or: Yuta deadpanned, “I’m a fucking Jaeger pilot. That is something I should boast about.”

words ➙ 15k

genre ➙ sci-fi, angst, romance, action, fantasy, smut

warnings ➙ major character death, graphic description of monsters, physical violence, language, scenes of making out, smut

A/N ➙ I am deeply inspired by the movie, Pacific Rim. However, i made some changes in the plot. This was rushed, im sorry. This wasn’t proofread, I apologize for some grammatical errors. This took me a while to write but it was worth it. Happy Reading! Kindly reblog and like! <3

P.S ➙ I edited the fic poster using photoshop cs4 and polarr. All credits (pictures used) belong to the perspective owners (sm entertainment & the creators of Pacific Rim) that edit took me ages (please credit me if you wanted to repost the edit, don’t let my efforts go to waste D:) I also created the moodboard (in the teaser), all pictures used are from pinterest. I had to cry blood while editing oml lol, however it was enjoyable and im drooling for yuta pls claim me

Playlist ➙ rocketeer by far east movement, surrender by cash cash, i’m feeling good by michael bublé, pacific rim by ramin djawadi & tom morello

Tags ➙ @shinseobs [hi tiff, ily so much!], @insomni-writing [hi somni, thank you for proofreading the draft, ur the best!], @jaehyunspaghetti [hi bby, i hope u are doing well!], @neocultvretechs [hi my lovely kai, i hope u enjoy my little yuta fic offering to u], @milkinqjungs [love u], @jaextapose [ruth ur the best ;)], and all the yuta stans out there!

Kaiju ( 怪獣, かいじゅう, kaijū) Strange, Giant Beast.

Jaeger (yāɡər, German) Hunter.

“Is this a gift for winning against the Kaijus?”

Yuta murmured, “Ask me to fuck you, and I’ll glady do it.”

You whispered back, “Then do it.”

He responded well; responded to a need he could no longer control. He was driven by lust, passion and determination. Yuta crashed his lips onto yours. Your lips parted on a quiet moan; your hands busy hovering over your boyfriend's body. Instantly, you cling onto him, having his body as your support. Both of your mouths; busy, wild, willing, driven with so much anticipation. Breaths ragged. Darkened eyes. Yuta pressed his body onto you more, you felt giddy; his erection throbbing against your core. Your body vibrated against his; similar with a string plucked with so much force; like a plucked harp. His heart pounded hard against his chest, his hands exploring your body; every curve of you that drives him insane in his room at the Underbase. Your hollows that tormented him. You alone, made him drive to insanity, and he’s living for it. Every cell in your body screamed for only Nakamoto Yuta, your core ached for him, and him alone. Every need Yuta felt was only for you. Only you.

“I missed you.” You whispered the moment he left your mouth to dive into your exposed shoulders. Kissing your clavicles, leaving purple marks every suck he took. Yuta didn’t stop as he marked every exposed column of your throat. You tugged at his dirty blonde locks. Your breast rose and fell against his needy touches. “I missed you so much.”

Being a Jaeger pilot means sacrifice. Being deployed to far bases, away from each other. Fighting off Kaijus as if it’s the end of the fucking world. And the constant feel of fear never leaving both of your systems. Questions running through both of your minds, will you still see Yuta after a mission? Will he still see you? Will both of you survive? The world you both live in is so complicated to the extent; complex. Both of you always believed that the world is as alive as the inhabitants were. There is life everytime you look up at the skies. The celestial body is as alive as humans are. It was really fascinating. That is what both you and Yuta thought when you were both highschoolers; turns out the world has made a whole one-hundred and eighty turn; both of you were looking in the wrong direction. There was no life above but beneath. When alien life dominated the Earth it originated deep down the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Their entryway came from the fissure of the two tectonic plates; Pacific and Southern Plate. A made portal from hell to Earth. The Breach.

Yuta breathed and looked at your eyes. Those tantalizing eyes that never failed to make Yuta in awe. He had seen how those eyes morphed into different emotions. Lust, fear, love, sadness and Yuta loved it, so much. Yuta could still remember the first landing of the Kaiju at his hometown, Osaka. He held your hands, and ran as far as he could bringing you out of the chaos you were in.

He was vulnerable that time, young, not older than fifteen. He heard how loud the roars resonated from the giant beast. He saw how every infrastructure, made meticulously by humans, crumpled under one swing of the Kaiju. Yuta heard every alarm wail around his neighborhood, every shattered glass, every startled cry, including yours. That is the time Yuta swore, to fight off to the last of his breath, to protect you because he loved you so much. You don’t deserve any of this fucking mess.

Your skin was flushed, your eyes slumberous, as you slid down your hands to cup his face. “When I was there, fighting, all I could think was you. And all I know is, I love you so much.” Your words touched him, he had his hands framing your cheeks. He smiled, “I will kill every Kaiju so they won’t block my way into you. I’ll fight for you, my love, for us.” You raised a trembling finger, “I want to be alone with you. I will be deployed again tomorrow in Hong Kong. Make me yours tonight, Yuta.”

“That’s far, I’ll be staying here. But your plan is what I can’t argue with.” Your head was spinning, vision blurred into daze. Yuta looked at you as if you were a shimmering glass of cool water and he cannot control himself but to indulge you, as he was a man with a desperate thirst. You approached his face again but you dodged his lip, he grew impatient at your actions. You nibbled his right lobe and his familiar musky scent filled your senses. That scent that you always miss to smell every time you are on a mission. It made your heart thud. Nakamoto Yuta could drive you mad. “We are in the corridor of our base. I don’t want the marshal seeing us fuck here. Which room is closest?”

Yuta breathed out, “Mine.”

“Do you perhaps know an elevator that is barely used? I can’t let people see me in this kind of state.”

Yuta kissed you again, nibbling your lips. You elicited a quiet moan. “Trust me, people are almost asleep at this hour.” He linked his fingers onto yours and dragged you towards the elevator. The lift gave a sudden jolt. You turned around to capture Yuta’s swollen lips. Murmuring, “I want to feel you.” You scrambled and yanked away his tie, undo-ing his shirt, the buttons shoved aside the stanched material. A hum of pleasure surged on Yuta’s throat while you explored his chest; savoring the power of sinew and muscle underneath. You used a fingertip to trace his nipple, then your mouth replaced your fingertips in an instant. Yuta gasped and whispered incoherent cusses. His body lurched, beneath your plump lips you could feel his heart jolt at your sudden actions. Yuta groaned, he looked at you with half-hooded eyes, “You’ll be the death of me, (Y/N).”

You didn’t answer him, instead you tugged into his nipple using your teeth. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

The elevator halted. Yuta immediately scooped you around his torso. He squeezed your ass, making you yelp in surprise. His mouth took yours, initiated a dazzling, dizzying kiss. Your blood heated against his touch, it was hot like a burning flash against your skin, roaring through your core. One moment you felt a wall behind you, and Yuta trapped you and captured your lips once again. He sighed, then growled, “I want you naked.”

“Open your room, mister.” He assisted you down and approached his doors. He held the keys with a shaky hand. With a lot of effort he shoved the door wide and yanked your arm. The door shut with a loud thud. Yuta pushed your figure towards the door. He shoved your shirt out from your shoulders, down your arms. For thrilling moments, Yuta’s dark look made your core throb with so much anticipation. The need raged, clawed inside her systems like a resident virus as his teeth seared off your exposed chest. Yuta wrapped your ponytail into his hands, then arched it towards the left to devour onto your exposed, now marked throat. You were a moaning mess, eyes shut at the delicious feeling Yuta is making you feel. He then neglected your throat, then claimed your lips once again. The vague sense of warmth enclosing both of your bodies. Your top is completely removed leaving you in your tank top and bra. Yuta was still completely dressed. Both of you staggered as you tried to push him away to undress him. He shoved you again to the nearest wall, his pounding erection making you cry out, you want him, badly. You thrusted against his bulge. Yuta’s breath hitched, following a harsh rasp through his lips. He caught your face, eyes dark as midnight, he stared down at you, “You want this?”

“Yes. Fuck me all you want, Yuta.”

On a vicious oath, he yanked your tank top. With an expert flick of his fingers, he unhooked you bra and yanked it off. Yuta’s hand is now at your waist, tight, he lifted you off your feet to take your breast into his mouth. The air around you thickened. Your breath snagged, in both of your lungs, as you arched back giving him more access, your fingers gliding down his shoulder blades. Yuta’s mouth fed sucked, his teeth scraping erotically on your tensed, aching, budded nipple, You whimpered against the wall, the mixture of pain and pleasure taking a toll on you, you were desperately calling out for his name, your pussy pounding, panties soaked.

“Oh, god, Yuta. I can’t.”

“You can.” He lowered downwards. Your stomach, then your navel. He let go of your waist then he kneeled. Unbuckling your jeans and sliding it down in a tormenting manner. He then, twirled the lace of your panties, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “That’s it, be wet for me.” He pulled down the fabric down to your ankles, your eyes shutting at his touches. He parted your legs, then slid a slim finger onto your folds. You gasped. “Oh fuck.”

“Can you lie down?”

“On the floor?”

“I’m impatient.”

Yuta is shining, with sweat with the lamp light above both of you. You immediately lay down, the floor was cold. The sudden cold contact making you hiss, but you couldn’t care less. Yuta teasingly rubbed your labia, in a tortuous slow pace. Yuta gave a triumphant smile. He felt a sense of pride making you mewl onto the floor because of his touches. You shutted your eyes, moaning at the contact. His slim fingers going in slow directions; up and down. It was smooth with your juices oozing out. You couldn't bear with his teaching, you grabbed his wrist to push it into your core further. “Woah, woah, excited?”

“I hate you.”

He rubbed your clitoris; in a slow, sensual, circular manner and it made you gasp for air. You were now a moaning mess. Your eyes screw shut, your mind went haywire; black; full of desire and all you could think was Yuta’s fingers; torturing you erotically. It felt heavenly. After your clit, he dragged his fingers downwards, his other hand spreading your legs more apart. He slides in two fingers with ease, dragging your walls. Your hands clenched. Yuta dragged your arousal into his fingers. Then left you there, hanging, waiting for more. You peeked up, brows furrowed, but the sight in front of you was a masterpiece. Yuta looked like someone who was crafted by Michael Angelo; he knelt there, he looked ethereal; golden, in the yellow hue of his lamp, his slim fingers glistening with your juices, eyes locked into yours; dark as the midnight, full of lust. He licked his fingers and slid it all into his mouth. The flash of passion, the fury of need that darkened his eyes, filled with a sense of decadent power, as you laid there, all ready for him. Time and place was a virtue, but all you wanted was to spend your nights with him, only him.

“You really want to fuck me here? You’ve got a damn bed, Yuta.”

“Later.” The sight before him was something so lovely and intricate. The need you felt for him was primitive, overwhelming. You scrambled out from your position and one moment Yuta felt your greedy hands unbuckling his belt and unhooking his pants. He watched you in amusement, he didn’t complain, more; let you do your own will. You never moved so fast in your life, you undressed him so fast, it even surprised you. Yuta dragged you down onto the floor again, the coolness of the tiles against her back made her register to her dazed mind. Yuta leaned over. His mouth feasting over your flesh, greedy hands roaming and racing around your quivering body in a ruthless manner. Heat pumped into both of your systems. You felt yourself going warm, soft, melting into his touch. Becoming one. Your mouths connected once again. Hot and greedy. Salivas connecting. You nipped onto his lips, chest. Fingers grazing and digging into the hard ridge of his shoulders. Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other; savouring pore by pore. He palmed you, again. You gasped at the sudden touch, it sent shivers to your spine. His fingers went down to your core, moving against your heat, relentlessly building you up, the drive, the need for release clawing viciously.

“Look at me, (Y/N).” His hair is mopped overhead. Damped, but still beautiful as it is. “I love you.” The shadows around you seemed to shift while your fingers stroked. His fingers are still busy devouring your core. Sensation slid after sensation, building inside you, in trembling, shuddering layers, then exploded. Your vision blurred; a half sob tore from your lips. Strength gone, you lay there motionless, air around is thick with ragged breaths and sex. Your heartbeat stumbled. Yuta caressed his shaft, then the head; red, oozing with pre-cum.

“You’ll hate me more.” Yuta grinned as he slammed his throbbing cock onto you. A sob of pure, overwhelming pleasure eased up your throat. You heard both of your flesh clicking with every move Yuta made. The air smelt of sex. Dark. Your body opened and joined with his. Arching, you meet his heavy thrusts lifting your hips after his attacks, moving in a desperate manner, urging him on “Shit, you feel so good.” In that fleeting moment, in the deep night. You understood, there will be no other man in your mind, only the man in front of you, deep, thrusting, Yuta was only the one. The one.

Underbase. South Korea

Yuta sat alone. He stared at your sleeping figure on his bed. The marks lingered on your neck like wild berries. He felt his arms shake uncontrollably. He stood up in his black boxers; and approached the medication box just inside his drawers. He searched for the familiar capsule. Chloroquine. His breathing steadied, and found the strength to look at your figure again. His subconscious is having an internal battle with his heart. He drank his medication and went to the bed with you. Your skin glowed like warm honey. Yuta whispered in, “I will stop loving you until the last rose dies.”

Yuta and you have been in ups and downs. Of which included; surviving the Kaiju attacks.

Yuta could still remember that devastating day. Indistinct radio chatters. Government jets. Explosions. Roars. Chaos. By the time the Kaiju was taken down by tanks and jets, exactly seven days and 40 miles later, three cities were already destroyed. Tokyo, Kyoto, and his hometown, Osaka. Thousands of lives were lost, including those of his beloved parents. The city mourned for the lost souls, memorialized the ones who died because of the giant beast, and the people slowly moved on. Three months later, there was another attack. Taiwan. The beast shattered Taipei. People clamoring, people killed, the toxic blood of the beast painting the streets a vibrant blue. Then, another attack hit Los Angeles, the same destruction happening, the same trauma. Again, it was stopped. Then and there, the people learned and realized. The attacks wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. Everything that happened was just the beginning. The calm before the storm. There was something waiting out there, something more grotesque, more destructive.

There both of you entered the dangerous world of being a Jaeger pilot.

The nation had been reborn, and set an alliance in order to be better prepared in case of another upcoming Kaiju attack. Resources were clamped together to build an indestructible weapon against the Kaijus. For the sake of the innocent lives, for the sake of their own sanity and peace. The people created their own version of the Kaiju. The Jaeger program was created. At first, there were a series of malfunctions and setbacks. A single pilot couldn’t withstand the neural load to catch up and interface with a Jaeger, the strain so powerful that it could cause intracranial nerve damage. And so, the two-pilot system was proposed. The left pilot for the left hemisphere and the right pilot for the right hemisphere.

With the Jaeger, the people started winning, soon being able to stop attacks of the Kaijus everywhere. Then came the propaganda. Kaiju and Jaeger toys. The Jaeger pilots became celebrities. Everything was going smoothly, all success falling into the people’s palm.

Then, it all changed.

“Alert Gipsy Danger. Kaiju movement spotted at Bay 10. Code name. Kaiju Sharp Snout. Category 3. 9,000 metric tons.”

Yuta scrambled immediately out of his bunk bed. He whispered and shook your figure lightly, “I need to go, I love you.” You groaned in response. He made a sudden jump and knocked at the door of his younger co-pilot, Mark, aggressively.

Mark’s door is slightly ajar. Yuta made himself in, further waking up the younger boy. “Wake up, Canada Boy. There’s Kaiju movement at the breach,” He slapped the bed of Mark’s lightly, “We are deployed to baby Mark-03.” He said in reference to the nuclear powered Jaeger. The machine they were piloting, Gipsy Danger, was Yuta and Mark's pride and joy. Mark opened the door to his room and Yuta moved in his room, and approached his cabinet and put on a grey t-shirt.

Mark groaned, “Not a good morning to you.”

Yuta smirked, “It’s a good morning to kick some Kaiju ass. Road to seven wins.”

Mark wiped his eyes, “What time is it?”

“Two.”

Mark made a face, “In the morning?”

Yuta grinned while fixing his cross necklace, “Yep.”

“Why are you so pumped up all of a sudden?”

Mark glanced behind Yuta’s shoulder and saw your sleeping figure on his bed. Their rooms were just interconnected with a single door as a barrier. He gave the older pilot a smirk. Mark’s unanswered questions are answered; Yuta was the sole reason of the sudden moaning at twelve fucking midnight.

“What category is it?”

“Three, the biggest one, yet.”

Mark narrowed his eyes, “Code name?”

“Sharp Snout.”

Yuta approached the younger boy and made a playful fist bump with him. “It’s superhero time.”

Mark gave him a toothy grin. A knock disrupted the two from the main door of their rooms. A male voice grunted from the other side of the steel door.

“Hey, Handsomes, time for the drop.”

Mark made his way to the bathroom, “Who gave them that code name?”

“Me.”

Mark gave Yuta a questionable look, “Handsome? Really?” then grinned afterwards. “Don’t get a big head, hyung. Also, tell (Y/N) I said hi after our mission.”

By the time Yuta and Mark were preparing for their mission, you were still asleep. The boots of the two young bachelors clinked towards the steel platform. Yuta and Mark met when there was a Jaeger Pilot sign up in Japan. Yuta and Mark had a similar childhood experience, having lost their families because of the Kaiju Attack. They weren’t the stars among their classes, never have been selected for an urgent attack. However, there was one thing that made the two exceptional among all the Jaeger pilots; they were drift compatible. They had a strong bond which made their fights more successful. The drift compatibility was, in essence, two completely different systems conjoined together to create an enormous battle defense against an intruder. Finding a drifting partner was like searching for your other half, your other soul. Yuta didn’t want to have you as his co-pilot; he gets distracted by your beauty easily.

Yuta and Mark arrived at the drop facility. The workers assisted the two in wearing their titanium metal suit, tools whirring, a metal spinal cord attached to their back. The two pilots gave each other playful glances. They wore matching white helmets, a yellow liquid dispersing downwards.

“Data on Helmet. Data relay gel dispersing on circuit plots.”

The machine gave a low hum. The lights flicked on, the others following. The heavy secured door opened with a loud hiss. Yuta and Mark entered, each stride followed by a clank. The attachment metal descended, a loud swish coming from its origin. It looked like a harness, but there was no attachment on the pilot’s torso; the metal straps are only connected to the arms and foot. Yuta and Mark placed both of their feet on the pedal platform, then the equipment wrapped around their soles and ankles, securing both of them tightly. It gave an impression as if they are flying mid-air, the security straps hidden behind their lavish suits. The staff whirred the screw onto their backs, the driller machine turning the screw aggressively. Another metal, similar to a handcuff automatically attached on the boy’s wrists, clicking after each wrist. Then a circular device was connected to their palms, a light emitting from its center. A circular plot on Mark’s right palm and another on Yuta’s left palm.

A voice came out from the p.a system.

“Good morning, handsome boys.”

Yuta grinned and pressed the overhead controller, “Taeil, what’s up, my man?”

Taeil chuckled, “Mightier than ever. Won an algebra quiz.”

Yuta pressed the button again, “Having a sexy brain makes you so attractive, brother.”

Mark pressed in his buttons calling out to Taeil, “How was the date? Did you score?” Then the two laughed boisterously.

Taeil smirked from his station and levelled the mic onto his plump lips, “She loved me, that’s a giveaway, however, someone was barking. I will leave it to you guys to imagine what exactly that was.” Taeil went on a blind date, however, it didn’t go as well as he’d planned. The girl’s father didn’t fancy him at all.

Yuta groaned, “That must’ve hurt your ego, man.”

Taeil clicked his tongue, “Have established my ego and pride for several years. That one was chicken.”

Marshal Lau entered in his navy suit, “Engage the drop, Mr. Moon.”

Taeil’s body jerked up in surprise and he cleared his throat, “Engaging drop, Sir.” The hologram flashed in front of Taeil's face as he typed down the keyboard, vigorously. A bracelet lingered on his wrist. He spoke towards his mic again, “Marshal Lau on deck.” He pushed the button on his console, then jutted the controller similar to a joystick in an upward direction, “Securing conn pad, then, we are ready to drop.”

The staff from the conn pad attached the steel with the shape of a bowtie. The steel conjoined with a loud hiss.

“Conn pad attached, Sir Taeil. Back door secured.”

Yuta and Mark pressed the p.a button, “Ready for the drop.”

Yuta voiced out, “Gipsy Danger ready for the big drop.”

From a distance, the place Yuta and Mark are in, is actually a robot head. It was gigantic, it had a black exterior, the eyes that looked similar to a windshield, are colored a bright yellow. The air around it swooshed, steam coming out of the pipes. Then, the robot head dropped in an instant. The two pilot’s stomach churned as the head plunged from a high altitude.

Yuta hissed, “Here comes the roller coaster ride.”

Mark answered back, “Never was my favorite.”

Gipsy Danger’s head attached on its enormous torso. The two groaned at the impact of the drop, but recollected immediately. The head descended and locked onto its open neck. The head tilted towards the right, and a series of chains connected to each other.

“Connection complete, Sir.”

“Engage the pilot-to-pilot protocol now.”

Taeil typed in again, “Engaging pilot-to-pilot program in three, two, one,” he clicked a button, “Now.”

An AI voice sounded from the speakers, “Pilot-to-pilot sequence, protocol engaging.”

Gipsy Danger’s neck continued to move, securing all the heavy duty alloy into their places. The gaps from the neck closed in an instant. The enormous robot’s center core illuminated a high glow of red, the internal part turning in a fast, clockwise direction. The tower cranes moved away. The platform beneath the Jaeger’s feet moved slowly. The marshallers waved their luminous sticks guiding the moving vehicle with care. The doors of the base opened; violent waves flashed the bottom and strong winds blew into the base.

“Gipsy Launch. Bay nine.”

Mighty gales. Rain. Thunder Strikes. Gipsy stood out despite the storm eating in. Several lights luminated from the robot; the topmost head, chest, legs, the forearms. There were indistinct radio chatters heard, and the helicopters flew against the tempest. The moving platform dropped slowly into the water, creating a huge wave from the impact.

Taeil pressed several other buttons from the overhead console. “Gipsy Danger, ready and aligned, Sir.”

Marshal law leaned onto the microphone, “Rangers, this is Marshal Lau. Prepare for the neural handshake.”

Taeil moved again. His fingers grazing the buttons, the hologram screen illuminated robot parts and the brain; both left and right hemisphere shown. “Initiating neural handshake in fifteen seconds.” Taeil started counting downwards while typing vigorously, making sure the programs are set well. An image of the brain turned against the screen, “Ten.”

Marshal Lau observed the holographic screen, then took a peek at his watch. It was past three already.

“Eight.”

From the Gipsy, Mark pressed some buttons, then looked at Yuta. “I really can’t hide my secrets from you.”

Yuta tsk-ed, shaking his head, “Do the honor of stepping into my brain first.”

“Pilot-to-pilot sequence, protocol engaging. Neural handshake initiated.”

Mark and Yuta stood there, and closed both of their eyes. Both of the pilot’s visions looked like a big whirlpool; making them remember the significant memories of their past, then a blackout, then another memory. Each could read and see the latter’s memory. This was called the Drift. Jaeger Technology. Based on the fighter program neural systems. The two pilots mind-meld each other’s memories with the body of the giant machine. The deeper the bond shared between the two pilots, the stronger they fight.

A gigantic loading screen flashed on Taeil’s screen. “Neural handshake complete. Strong and deep.”

Marshal Lau stood behind him, staring deeply.

Yuta raised his left palm, the circular device illuminated. “Left hemisphere calibrating.”

Mark did the same, raising his right, the device glowed after his movements, “Right hemisphere calibrating.”

Both of the pilots moved simultaneously, raising one arm after another and throwing a punch. The gigantic machine followed the action of the two; lifting its gigantic arms then flexing them afterwards. The control and movement originated from its main base, the head from the two pilots engaged.

The female AI voiced out, “Calibration completed.”

Marshal Lau breathed then spoke, “Gentlemen, your orders are to hold and block Kaiju from entering Manila's waters. Copy?”

Yuta answered, “Copy, Marshal.”

Mark spoke, pressing the button from his overhead controller, “Sir, there is movement on the west coast. A fishing vessel--”

“Rangers, we are not risking millions of lives for a vessel that contains twenty. Orders are orders, understood?”

The two rangers answered at once, “Yes, Sir.”

Yuta pressed the button to cancel the message transmitting from the base. He gave Mark a stern gaze.

Mark gulped, “Is he serious?”

Yuta gave him a determined look, “Mark, you know what I have in mind?”

Mark’s lips pressed into a thin line, “Our minds are connected, I’m basically in there.”

Yuta grinned, “I know. Let’s go for some fish.”

Mark gave a lopsided smile, “Then, here we go!”

The two pilots made a step. The left then lifted their rights. It took great effort to take a stride with the machine. The two pilots were suspended mid-air; starting from their feet, there was an enormous chain turning into a clockwise direction from every movement made by the rangers. The Jaeger took big strides along the waters. The machine stood about two-hundred fifty feet; complex, weaponry used as defense for the alien life domination. Gipsy Danger walked in the waters as if not fazed by the violent thunders and winds blowing its enormous metal body. There are phenomena that are impossible to fight with; hurricanes, rain, thunderstorms— all acts of God. However, when you are in a Jaeger, everything impossible could be made possible. Being in a Jaeger meant, winning, defending everything coming at your way.

Shores of Manila

From the mile anchorage. The fishing vessel was wiped by the aggressive waters of the peninsula. The boat swayed carelessly along the violent waves, heavy currents hit the hull of the water vessel, splashing water everywhere its bow. The fishermen yelled instinctively while chaining their equipment to the post. Slipping on the deck, panicking and helpless. They were soaked while they ran around the open cabin to secure every paraphernalia in place; their yellow raincoat stood out in the dark storm, the wind tackling them out of their posture. A man in his mid-forties; with an Indian descent, trotted inside the cockpit. Another man, an African-American, controlled the helm, whirring it towards the right. The radar beeped loudly. The windshield wipers were busy; vigorously wiping the windows, left and right.

The man in his forties yelled out of his lungs, “How long is the port from Manila?!”

The man behind the wheel answered, speaking on top of his lungs, “Ten miles, Sir!”

An old man, from the right of the driver; wearing a beanie, roared while staring at the radar, “We’ll be dead by the time we reach Manila!”

The storm makes it hard for them to communicate; the only thing that is effective is through shouting on top of their lungs in attempts to hear each other, while the wind is aggressively slapping the vessel from left to right. The Indian shouted back, pointing at the radar. A green light blinked after his taps, “What about that island by the east? Two miles?!”

The American answered him, “It’s a mile, Sir!” He yanked the wheel again, stirring towards the East direction, “The island is getting closer!”

The old man in a beanie cried out, “How the hell is the island getting closer?! We ain’t even accelerating forward!”

The Indian caught his tongue, and stared intently ahead. The radar was beeping rapidly. The waves splashed and an enormous black rock came into a view. The island. The American shouted, his tone hinting victory “The island!”

The Indian shook his head, “It’s no island. Kaiju.”

The enormous monster swam across the waters. Its back was hunched, rising up and down from the waters.The Kaiju gave a low growl, its feet dragging heavily along the floors of the ocean. It was massive and its scales luminated a cerulean blue. This beast was neither lithe, nor blessed with grace. Its beady eyes glinted a deep black; upright soulless and evil. Underneath the drone of the rain there came another sound. At first it was quite indistinct, but as it drew closer to the vessel where the fishermen huddled, it became louder. A deafening growl that was bone-shrieking. The Kaiju swam fast, approaching the vessel in an instant.

The man in his forties cried, panic surging up his systems. “Fucking hell! Turn the vessel around!”

The Kaiju stood up. Standing about hundreds of feet. Yellow lines lingered around its back. A blue illuminating its sharp nose. Its giant claws raised, about to ponder the vessel to pieces. Luckily, the vessel had swerved to the right, missing the blow of the monster. The Kaiju roared loud as the thunder struck from the skies. Its gigantic mouth had illuminated a warm blue glow; its tongue raveling out. A string of curses unraveled from the fishermen’s tongue, like yarn unfurling, as the Kaiju advanced. It's golden and blue scales shimmered with hot anger along with it's dark, cold, greyish eyes. Every step it took rattled their bones, struck their hearts, and shook the waters. The Kaiju stared down at the vessel, its beady eyes hungry, angry, dangerous. The men from the deck cried in agony and panic, “Oh God!”

Another one yelled, “What the hell?” As several splashes of water sprayed them from the deck. Gipsy Danger rose up from the waters, its light blinding the people from the vessel with an electronic buzzing. The center core of the enormous machine glowed a fiery red, turning in a steady, fast, circular direction. The Jaeger’s large right hand grabbed the vessel from its bottom. The fishermen ducked their heads; figures crouched on the deck, trembling in terror. The vessel rose up in the air, in the palm of the gigantic robot. The fishermen yelled.

A female robotic voice boomed from the pilot’s control center. “Fishing vessel secured.”

From Mark’s circular plot; a holographic image of the vessel was shown. “Adjust the torque!”

Yuta nodded and pressed the buttons from the overhead consoles, “Alright!”

“Torque secured.”

The Jaeger kneeled on its one foot and pivoted its body towards left, the right arms extended forward, releasing the vessel on the other part of the ocean; away from the roaring Kaiju. The Jaeger turned around and the two pilots quickly threw a right punch aiming towards its jaw. The Kaiju had a loud howl as it staggered backward, falling into the waters. The Kaiju quickly stood up in an attempt to attack the Jaeger, however, the machine had already mustered another blow, coming from the left arm. Smashing the creature's chest, Yuta and Mark both groaned while they raised both of their arms up in the air; fist closed to pound on the flat part of its sharp snout. The Kaiju’s head dropped into the waters; its mouth lighted up a sharp color of blue as it exhaled underneath the surface of the sea. It rose up again, and let out an angry shriek, advancing towards the Jaeger and smashing itself towards its torso. Yuta raised his left arm in defense, but the Kaiju was too fast, ripping some of the parts of the Jaegers arm. The pilots staggered on their places; the system beeping rapidly, they both shouted.

“Hyung! I’ll aim the missile! Hold the demon to its place!”

Yuta held its body; holding the sharp snout in place; the Kaiju protested against the stronghold of the machine. Gipsy Danger’s right arm transformed into a missile launcher; a circular beam ready to be launched. “Get it!”

The missile was launched. Three shots. They smashed right against the chest of the Kaiju. The monster gave a loud screech and fell from its back. The waters gave a loud splash after the downfall of the Kaiju.

From the base, Taeil read the beeping lights from his holographic scene. “Discharge reading, Sir. Plasma cannon released in the peninsula ten miles of Manila.”

Marshal Lau pressed in the p.a system, “Rangers, what the fuck just happened?”

Yuta smirked and pressed onto the p.a button from the overhead console to answer back, “Kaiju down, Sir. That makes that our seven.”

Marshal law yelled through the microphone, “You disobeyed a direct order! The plan is to avoid the Kaiju from entering the waters of Manila!”

Mark answered back, “We did, Sir! We released a launch and saved the vessel from being crumpled!”

Marshal Lau’s nostrils flared up, “Go back to the base, Now!”

The rangers grinned at each other. They had made the Marshal annoyed, again. Yuta pressed the button, “Okie dokie, Sir.” He pressed the button again, to cancel the p.a message transmitting to the base.

Taeil cried out loud, “Kaiju signature sending. I repeat, the Kaiju is still alive!”

Marshal Lau pressed the microphone again, yelling, “Rangers! The thing survived! Grab the vessel and return to your post now!”

Gipsy stood there in the waters, the two pilots frantically searching for the Kaiju. The waters glowed with the Kaiju’s blood; the ocean colored a fascinating shade of cerulean blue; despite its aesthetic appearance, it was highly toxic. The Marshal’s voice boomed into their p.a systems, “Gipsy, get out of there now!”

Gipsy lingered right, then left. It was still and quiet. Only the violent blowing of the winds were heard. Then, suddenly the creature attacked, taking the pilots in surprise. The Kaiju roared angrily and clawed at the machine. Gipsy held in the Kaiju’s mouth, controlling its attempt to eat out the machinery. Mark and Yuta grunted, as they swayed back and forth from the Kaiju’s impact.

Yuta yelled, “I got this!” He swung his arm, the machine’s fist shifting into a missile launcher. He then made an attack, taking a movement from below. The Kaiju swatted the arm then lashed with its sharp snout onto its shoulders, clawing the arm away from the source. Yuta screamed loud in pain as he held his left arm. The radar from Gipsy’s head beeped rapidly, the screen blinking a bold text of ‘Alert’.

Mark yelled through the mic, “Taeil hyung, we’ve been attacked!”

Taeil from the base, typed in. Gipsy’s figure flashing on his screen. He turned towards the Marshal, “Left arm, gone, Sir.”

Gipsy’s arm was clawed out by the Kaiju. With another attempt, the monster chomped on the arm, ripped it away and threw it towards the ocean. The Kaiju went mad; berserk; screeching as it violently attacked the Jaeger. Its right claw lashed onto the Jaeger’s head; where both pilots were stationed. The glass shattered as the Kaiju roared. Mark and Yuta swayed, ragged breath leaving their lips. The Kaiju have gone through the hull. It clawed up and managed to destroy the right side of the Jaeger’s head. Opening from Mark’s side.

Mark threw a panicked look towards Yuta, “Hyung, listen! You have to--”

Mark shouted loudly. Desperate, full of panic. He was so helpless. Mark wasn’t even able to finish his sentences as the Kaiju snatched his figure apart from the metal supporting him, his body flying away. Yuta cried out loud, “NO!”

From the hull, Mark’s spot was now empty, replaced with electricity and fires. Yuta screamed in agony, “NO!” He grunted as he was electrified. The computers were beeping rapidly. Red Alert. Alarms wailing. Yuta bit down his lips as he tried to raise his injured arm, transferring the circular plot on his right palm. The Kaiju gave a loud roar, advancing towards Gipsy, again. Pushing the machinery with brutal force. Yuta grunted as he staggered from his post. The monster growled and placed its sharp snout on the Jaeger’s chest. Yuta screamed, as jolts of pain shooted out his body. Yuta aimed the missile launcher. The creature was dominating, clawing and smashing against the Jaeger’s body. It roared after a huge attack. Then, again and again.

“Missile Loading”

The Kaiju chewed on the Jaeger as if it was a feast. Yuta yelled again. Then, he aimed directly at the gigantic monster’s chest. Three shots. There was a massive, blinding light. Darkness. Its body parts littered everywhere.

From Taeil’s screen, the red dot has disappeared in a blink of the eye. “Second missile, launched, Sir. No Kaiju signature noted.” He typed in again, “I’m not getting any signals.”

“I cannot reach Yuta, Sir.”

The Marshal walked away from the base. A sullen look painted his face. It was not a time to celebrate; they did ward off the Kaiju. However, they had lost another brave soul. Mark Lee fought until his very last breath.

Bali, Indonesia

“Grandma! Look what I found on the shores!”

The little girl showed her grandmother an old, rusty, robot toy; a Jaeger to be precise. Her grandmother gave her a pleasant smile, standing up from picking up shells. “That is absolutely beautiful my dear.”

“It is mama! I wanted to see one Jaeger someday!” She beamed at her grandmother, clapping her hands excitingly. Then the elderly shushed her, “Okay, you will! Now let us pick some shells, shall we?”

The younger girl nodded and crouched down and helped her grandmother to pick up several shells. All were pearly white, some with a tint of orange and pink, some long, others short. Loud footsteps were heard from the distance. The young girl peeked up, her eyes widening at the sight. She cried out loud, “MAMA!” The younger had wished for a Jaeger, and a Jaeger appeared. Mark 03, Gipsy Danger. Clattered and destroyed.

The grandmother raised a hand on her mouth. Surprised. “Oh my heavens.”

Gipsy staggered with every step it took. The machine creaking. Then suddenly, it fell on its knees and made a drop towards the ground. The machine powered down after the fall. The two ran towards the machine quickly. The elderly woman flailed her left arm, “Stay here!”

The grandmother approached the hull cautiously. Then she saw a figure crawling from the machine’s gigantic head. Yuta panted as he struggled to get out of the Jaeger. He quickly stood up. He looked like he was run down several times. His left arm suit was already busted, burned to the extent; pools of blood dripping down his forearm. From his left bicep were several vertical wounds. It was red and bloody. His helmet was cracked and staggered, almost collapsing. Everything was circulating, he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t clearly hear the words from the elderly woman. He felt as if he was drowning. Muffled voices. All he could think of was his younger brother, Mark Lee.

Yuta whispered while he turned around, “Mark... Mark? (Y/N)?” His legs couldn’t carry his weight anymore and he collapsed on the ground.

“Darling, quick! Call for help!”

The elderly woman held his face, “It’s gonna be okay. Hold on for a little longer.”

Could he hold on a little longer?

“Where the hell is Yuta?” You shook Taeil’s shoulder, tears welling in your eyes. The news of their expedition has made it through the Underbase. It was already four in the morning, yet, no signs of Yuta. No signs of Gipsy. This is what you feared. You did spend a lovely and memorable night with the love of your life but, is this the price you have to pay? Your fingers trembled, as you observed Taeil type in his keyboard. “Taeil, please find him.”

“I’m trying my best (Y/N). For now, calm down.”

“How can I calm down Taeil?”

“(Y/N), you know exactly how dangerous our job entails. Death chases after us, I hope you are aware of that.” You are. You’re not just ready to let go of him yet. Not now, never. You stood up again, this time, you roamed around the base. Looking at every monitor in sight; just to divert your attention. You told the marshal that you won’t be deploying bases not until they give out any information about Yuta. Hong Kong could wait. You would be needed if there is a brought mutilated Jaeger. After all, you have already settled with the restoration team and upgrades of the Jaegers. You were once a pilot, too, but Yuta was concerned about your health. The Jaeger tech is too much for your health; it almost had your ECG line flat that one moment you had a mission in China. You were also responsible with the cadet selection and combat training.

You blinked hard. Throat tightening. You gave an abstracted look then, took a deep breath and slowly initiated expiration. You felt the relaxation of your diaphragm and your lungs pushed out air. You licked your lips; it was already dry. The holographic screen of Taeil showed the maps of Manila, he zoomed in to the nearby countries surrounding the country. Tracing any signs of the Jaeger or Yuta. A staff from the other side of the room suddenly alerted the people inside the vicinity.

“A report came from Indonesia, Sir Moon.”

Taeil gave you a quick glance. “That guy has nine lives. Don’t worry, we’ll find him, (Y/N).”

Taeil’s voice boomed inside the control base, “Coordinates?”

“8.3405° S, 115.0920° E”

“Where is the call coming from?”

“Seminyak, Sir.”

“Prepare the chopper now!”

You approached Taeil’s figure, “I’ll come with your team!”

“(Y/N), no.”

“Why not?”

“Orders are orders, (Y/N).” You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice. Marshal Lau. You reacted, “Yuta is my boyfriend, I need to see him!”

The marshal nodded, “I know. But It could crowd the chopper. It’s much better if you’ll wait here.”

You tried to argue back but the marshal held up a hand, silencing you. He gave you a curt nod, “Orders, (Y/N).”

You stormed out in frustration. Fuck orders.

Yuta narrowed his eyes. He felt really exhausted. The elderly assisted him and managed to remove the suit from him; to let his body to breathe. The nasty wounds clinging onto his skin. Yuta tried to move his body, but he cannot move his distal muscles. And his fingers are shaking uncontrollably. He tried to remember when was the last time he had taken in his medication; one a.m, and he drank it while looking at your peaceful sleeping figure on his bed. The medication he had taken has already subsided. Now, he is suffering with uncontrollable muscle shaking, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He felt helpless, adding the fact that Mark was already gone. He wanted to diminish out. After all, his time was already set in a time bomb; time for Yuta was expensive, and there is no such thing as bargaining. The medics around the island checked upon him, and he didn’t sustain a concussion; but the mission surely left him an ugly scar. Thoughts swirling around his mind; was it really worth it to be a Jaeger pilot? Is it time to diminish the Jaeger tech of his system? The fire, determination, urge to kill and to protect the world from the enormous beast has threatened to fall down the day he piloted Gipsy Danger alone, and collapsed at the beach somewhere in Indonesia. Mark’s death is still taking a toll on him.

A large helicopter. Boeing CH-47 Chinook. Hovering in the air above the clinic he is currently housing at. It was painted a deep green and yellow, a heavy, military aircraft with a figure in dark glasses and helmet hunched over the controls. It swung around over the site, it's blades beating the air. Then settled on the ground. Yuta narrowed his eyes at the aircraft before him. The familiar emblem caught his eyes; a large sword that struck a Kaiju’s chest. He walked out of the site and approached the man that had jumped out of the vehicle.

“Nakamoto Yuta.”

Yuta called upon the name of the higher up before him, “Marshal.”

The Marshal nodded, “Now's not the time to mourn. My number one priority is your health.”

Yuta nibbled on his lips, “It’s always been our oath marshal. Mourn later, Kill Kaijus.”

“I also lost a brave soul. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Yuta furrowed his brows, then looked towards the Marshal intently, “Marshal, I have something to tell you concerning my health.”

The helicopter they rode flew high in the air. Passing through the familiar cities of Taiwan, China, Singapore, then they finally arrived in South Korea. Military time, 1800 hrs. Jaeger Station, South Korea.

It was raining hard. Busy. The people at the bay were occupied. Some are pushing the Kaiju specimen drenched in formuline in a large glass dome towards the southwest direction in the laboratory. The marshallers were waving their glow sticks guiding the arriving helicopter towards the helipad. Military men in raincoats walked back and forth. Trucks and machineries are busy. Cargo ships at the nearest dock. You stalked out of the base, a large black umbrella covering you from the rain. You were still frustrated that Marshal Lau hasn’t let you go on their search rescue. The anxiety is slowly killing you. You have heard rumors about solo piloting, and it has a backlash. All you know, it could affect Yuta’s health. A whistle caught your attention.

“Looking good, Miss (Y/N). Can I have a taste?”

“Fuck off.”

You didn’t know the guy and so, you ignored and paid no attention to him. Your world wasn't just experiencing the attacks of Kaijus, there are creatures that are jerks, scattered around the world, Misogynists. They are of a different breed, but they don't differ as they share the same attitude. You clutched your work laptop tightly against your chest. Your long black coat swaying against the violent winds and followed your figure from behind. Your black combat boots made a loud splash every stride you took. You looked up and saw the Boeing CH-47 Chinook ready to take off. Your hair was swept away due to the winds coming from the blades of the aircraft. You stood there and waited expectantly. You felt queasy and uneasy. The staircase descended down the floor and Marshal Lau approached you. You handed him the extra umbrella you took with you, with shaky hands. He gave you a curt nod and opened the other umbrella for the person following him from behind.

“Oh my God.”

The mashal spoke, “(Y/N), Yuta needs to be sent to the infirmary--”

You saw how Yuta limped. His injuries are seen from afar. Your eyes welled up as you approached his figure cautiously. You cupped his face, his deep, sad eyes staring back into yours. That wasn’t the same eyes you were used to seeing; his eyes were your favorite; it felt so alive, charismatic, full of determination, but those staring back at you are just as black as midnight. Empty. You took a sharp intake of breath. You leaned in, temples touching, you closed your eyes and whispered. “I thought I lost you. Hell, I was so afraid I wasn’t gonna see you again.” The tears finally fell down. It was so melancholic. With the rain, your pounding heart, the man you loved the most stood there looking as lost and hurt. This wasn’t the life you wanted.

Yuta stared at you intently. Never have he seen someone as ethereal, standing confidently despite the storm paving its way on the base. He observed you, you had blue highlights on your hair, pinkish lips that are kissable, deep eyes—unreadable. It hurt him to see you hurting too. He tried to force a smile, showing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. You sobbed into his chest, “I don’t know what I will do without you.”

Yuta whispered, “You should start standing on your toes. It’ll hurt you more if you rely on me a lot.”

A fortnight. Underbase.

“It's a surprise that there isn’t a Kaiju attack these fortnight. Are they on hibernating mode or something?”

“Trust me marshal, they are preparing for a bigger attack. This isn’t the time we should be letting our guards down.”

Taeyong dissected the heart specimen that lay on the table. Scalpel and tweezers. It was still fresh, its arteries a glowing color of cerulean, the veins are colored a deep crimson. However, it stinks of toxicity and ammonia. Taeyong’s arms are drenched with Kaiju blood and it covered most of the tattoos that lingered on both of his forearms. Sicheng, on the other hand, is writing vigorously on the blackboard. Chalks and dust. Formulas. Numerous data.

Sicheng voiced out. He pushed the glasses falling from the bridge of his nose, “The Kaiju attacks from the last months as by my calculations were about two and that is the maximum. However, as I’ve outlooked the data given by the other labs, the attacks could multiply and the frequency of Kaiju ambushes could rise for about three or worse four. From Sydney it was two weeks, then a week, then days. No time from preparations, I say. Ergo, your rangers should always prepare for a Kaiju attack from the coast. A category four.”

“Doctor Sicheng, I am about to plan on to group a 2,400 pound of nuclear bomb in the Breach to stop the attacks. Please give me more precise data, not just a prediction.”

Sicheng cleared his throat, “Numbers never lie marshal. They are the most accurate thing and never close to a prediction. The frequency of attacks will increase to the point we couldn’t stand their domination anymore, and--”

Johnny finished the sentence for the doctor, “We’re dead. Alas.”

Sicheng lifted his chin, “Exactly, Lieutenant Johnny.”

Taeyong smirked. Kaiju mucus drenching his surgical gloves, “You speak like a mighty doctor.”

Sicheng gave him a quizzical look, “I speak the truth. Continue on examining Dr. TY.” He clasped his fingers and headed towards his digital monitor, “Here comes the good news.”

The marshal spoke, “We are listening, doctor.”

“You see, the Breach is the gateway. And it is quite confusing as to how the hell is the Kaiju going to different countries like Australia, Alaska, Manila, Japan this comes up to the conclusion that there might be a new portal or much more, several gateways for these monsters. However,” He paused and clicked the enter key, a deep portal showed at the screen, “They only came from one source. Here, deep and close to the Marianas Trench lying underneath the oceans of the Pacific. We disrupt the throat for it to widen, don’t worry, that is its natural structure. It is beyond flexible for the monsters to go through. So, If we disrupt the gateway, that is where we drop the bomb and boom.”

Taeyong butted in, “But we could rely on much, limited data. Hear me out marshal.”

Johnny and Marshal Lau turned towards the other pink-haired doctor, “Do you see how unique these creatures are?”

“They’re not--”

“Some would look like a lizard, next would look like a deadass fish. But despite their appearance, they do share one commonality, they have the same exact DNA.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes, “What are you implying now, doctor?”

“Cloning.”

Yuta entered the laboratory after listening to their complicated discussions. His voice startling the men inside. “I will be piloting Echo Panther, Marshal. That is where you will attach the bombs right?”

“Yuta, Why all of a sudden?”

Yuta gave a half shrug. “This is the best thing I could do, marshal.”

“You’ll die, idiot!”

Yuta deadpanned, “I’m a fucking Jaeger pilot and I’ll die as one. That is something I should boast about.”

The marshal tried to calm his nerves. “This isn’t the right time to boast!”

Yuta gave a solemn look. After the incident, he contemplated that participating in this mission is something that could cut his time-bomb. He made sure to spend his remaining days making himself busy, pushing you aside from his systems, even if it's painful for his part. It was a dick and dumb move, but he knew spending his limited days with you would cause damage to you and to him as well. He made sure to avoid you. “Marshal, I told you that I loved my mother right?”

Marshal Lau crossed his brows, “Yes.”

“And do you know what she did to prove her love to me? She sacrificed herself, for my own fucking sake.” He paused, fist clenching. The tremors are back, again. The marshal gave him a concerned look. Yuta continued on, “Even if I choose not to participate in the mission, I would still die, it's all useless, marshal. Living is something out of my vocabulary.”

“This suggestion of yours will lead you to your death. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I know, but if it means keeping everyone safe, keeping my (Y/N) safe, it’s worth everything even if it costs me.”

“What about (Y/N)?” Yuta didn’t answer him. Instead, he gave a rose drenched in resin and a flash drive.

Yuta breathed, “Give that to her after this mission.”

The three of you entered the facility. Then the marshal took a left turn, towards the base’s large elevator. Marshal Lau spoke up, “We will take a look at the facility first, then (Y/N) will take you to Echo Panther. Copy that Yuta?”

“Yes Sir.”

You snapped back, turning your head towards the marshal and your boyfriend. “What Echo Panther? Is there something I missed out marshal?”

The door was about to close when a frantic screaming interrupted you from pushing the buttons of the lift closed.

“Coming through!” Two pinked haired doctors scrambled inside the enormous lift. They pushed a Kaiju specimen through, crowding the space. The marshal pushed the button this time, giving you a meaningful look. Yuta felt the glass behind his back. The doe-eyed doctor wailed, “You are still injured, Yuta!” The elevator gave a sudden jolt, and descended downwards.

Yuta cajoled. Smiling wide. You were stunned at Yuta’s behavior. The time you saw him get down at the chopper since his last mission there was only one word that could describe him; lost. But the guy in front of you is really different, let alone he is acting as if nothing happened. “It's been a fortnight, doctor. I’m perfectly fine.”

You eyed Yuta. He’s been acting distant around you, and he seemed to be keeping things to himself. He was also acting differently around you; he never allowed you to nurse his injuries, or he never initiated intimate contacts with you unlike before. He acts completely different as if you weren’t molded as one. Dr. Taeyong spoke, “Just call me TY.” Yuta eyed the Kaiju tattoo lingering on Taeyong’s arm.

Yuta continued to eye the tattoo and spoke towards the doctor, “Is that Tailjaw?”

Dr. Taeyong smirked, “A good eyesight you have. Yes it is. Truly one of the fascinating things I have ever seen.”

“Mark and I have taken them down in 2018. A category 3 as I could recall.” You blinked hard. Yuta made sure to not waste some dead air to let you interrupt. You tried to initiate a conversation but you were cut mid-way. You gritted your teeth

Dr. Sicheng interjected, “The only thing that fascinated you TY is that it’s heart still pounds even after its three long hour death.”

Taeyong spatted back, “And that was really fascinating, tell me otherwise or I’ll fight you Dong Sicheng!”

The elevator’s door with a loud hiss. You and Marshal Lau have stepped out. Yuta gave Dr. Ty a pat on the shoulders, “Kaijus were never fascinating, doctor. They are killers, ruthless blue-blooded creatures.” And he stepped out.

He followed the two figures ahead of him, “Your research team is quite peculiar.”

Marshal spoke, “The two of them can outnumber a whole squad of researchers. They are pretty talented and brainy.”

The marshal gave Yuta a look, “Knowledge is always the outermost defense, Yuta.”

Pissed is an understatement, you couldn’t describe the anger boiling inside your gut. You pressed a series of codes on the biometric attached to the wall. The electronic beeps after your taps. The heavy secured door opened. Marshal Lau raised his right arm, “Welcome to the Underbase, again.”

People from the Underbase clamored around. Gulf carts beeping. Machineries wailing. Three tall Jaegers stood on each of the base’s corners. There are lights everywhere. Indistinctive radio sounds and chatters.Yuta turned around the base, his face awe-stricken. Above the large doors was a large digital clock.

The marshal’s voice boomed, “War clock. I hope we could reset it after your mission.”

Yuta narrowed his eyes, “I guarantee that.”

“We are lucky that they aren’t attacking, it surely gave us time to prepare.”

You interjected, “Excuse me marshal. But Yuta couldn’t participate in a mission. Can’t you see? He is still injured for heaven’s sake!”

The marshal looked at you, “He reported to me and said that he was perfectly fine.”

You stopped in your tracks and yanked Yuta’s arm, he voiced out, “Why?”

“What the fuck is running inside your mind Yuta?”

He looked straight into your eyes. No signs of love nor light. He glanced at you as if you were just an ordinary colleague, “Nothing. We should be going.” He left you there astounded.

“It is. That is Tanker Shoalin. Assembled in Hong Kong, one of the greatest. Large titanium core, powered digitally. That machine eats up a lot of diesel. That will run up for your defense.” The marshal trailed. Yuta glanced up to see Tangker Shoalin. It was standing a hundred foot tall. It colored a deep color of indigo. Shimmering due to metal. “She’s piloted by the Wong brothers. Lucas, Kun and Hendery. Don’t be deceived by their soft looks, they are precise fighters, deadly. Defended the borders of China, nine times. They used their signature move, the triple tiger claw.”

“I knew of that technique. That was powerful.” He glanced at the brothers on the bench. Pretty busy with their own businesses. They wore a leather jacket, and their hair was colored a vibrant color of violet, pink and green. From Yuta’s left, a heavy duty grey Jaeger stood.

The marshal pointed at it. “That one was the last of the first generation Mark 01 models, Hunger Mercenary. It may look as if it could be slammed down easily. But don’t be fooled, Yuta. That one is a bloodlust killing machine.” He paused, “Those two,” he pointed at the two men in a deep army green suit, “Doyoung and Jaehyun piloted the Hunger Mercenary.”

He stared at the figure of Kim Doyoung and Jung Jaehyun, “Yes, I have heard of them. New York based. Deadly killers.”

“Exactly. Gates under their watch remain unbreachable.”

You stared at Yuta. Eyes narrowing. He was observing the first generation Mark model. Then a booming voice caught all of your attention. Lieutenant Johnny approached the marshal, “Marshal. A pleasant morning.”

The marshal nodded, “To you too, Johnny.”

The lieutenant blinked. He stood tall, he had a new cut; an undercut. “Hey, Yuta. Oh, hey (Y/N)” Yuta nodded. You gave the lieutenant a faint smile. Johnny raised a brow; he is quite surprised at both of your behaviiors. You were both inseperable; clingy and full of love. The couple before him acted as if they despised each other. Johnny cleared his throat and gave Yuta a sullen look, “I’m sorry for the loss of your brother.”

Yuta only nodded. The marshal spoke again, “His cousin, Haechan will be your co-pilot in Echo Panther towards the Breach. That machine is as mighty as flash, quite fast and the last generation of the Mark 06.”

Yuta narrowed his eyes, “We’d be compatible. I’ve ran combat against Haechan before.”

“That’s a good thing. In that way we could stop the monsters from going in and out of our world as if they own the place. The Russians have given us enough resources such as nuclear missiles to be attached to Jaeger’s back.”

You clicked your tongue, “So you have a plan? What is my purpose then? To be an ornament?”

The marshal smiled, “An ornament is a fancy word, (Y/N). You are a warrior and so you will be backing the machine up to successfully enter the Breach.”

You snapped, “How could I back the Jaeger marshal? When you keep your plans to yourselves? My boyfriend doesn’t even talk to me as if I’ve got his fucking tongue.”

Marshall Lau blinked. This was the reason why he is opposed to Yuta’s request; you will be enraged once you find out. The Marshal called for Johnny’s attention, “Let us go to the control base.”

You raised your voice in annoyance, “Fucking hell, marshal. I feel like a fucking joke!”

Yuta cleared his throat, “Let’s go.”

“I won’t. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Johnny fidgeted and bowed his head awkwardly towards Yuta, “The mission’s tomorrow. Let me know if you need something.”

Yuta answered back, “Thank you, sir.”

You cleared your throat, “Well? If you won’t talk, then I’m out.”

This is what they feared. What Yuta feared.

Your boots clanked every step you took. Yuta followed you from behind. There are electric sparks everywhere. The people were busy. Welding. Yuta heaved a sigh. Echo Panther stood there; tall, mighty and beautiful as ever. Beside it was Gipsy Danger, its familiar yellow windshield is noticeable from a distance. Memories came flooding his mind again, where he used to pilot the machine back in their glory days, with his best friend, his brother, Mark Lee. “She’s beautiful as ever.”

You tried to conceal your annoyance. “The last among the Mark 03. I made some major improvements on her model. Her nuclear core is powered tremendously, more stronger than before. There are weapons added, missile launches, laser ammos, et cetera.”

“She looked so new.”

“Better than new.” Yuta gave you a look. A look that you wish to see everyday. It is a glance that a man ever gave to a woman he truly admires, he truly loved.

“How do you like your new toy now, handsome boy?” Taeil walked on the metal platform. Yuta grinned widely and tackled the operator.

“Good to see you, my man, Taeil.”

Taeil chucked, “Good old times. Where the hell have you been?”

“The infirmary,” Yuta inquired, “Ready for tomorrow?”

“I’m always ready.”

You stalked away; annoyance taking a toll on you. You glanced behind your shoulder and made sure to raise your voice for him to hear, “We better talk Nakamoto Yuta. I’m tired of guessing what the hell in running inside that pretty head of yours.”

Yuta entered his room, it looked similar, untouched, unfolded. It was a fortnight since he’d last slept in his room. Last night he was here; he was making love to you. Holding you close to him. Kissing passionately as if there is no tomorrow. But things have changed. Yuta cozened himself with vain hopes and fake smiles, acting as if everything’s fine. The room looked lonely, empty, rusty. He turned to look at you. His eyes unfathomable, “What is it that you want to know?”

You let out an exasperated smile, “Stop acting so inconspicuous. I know something’s going on.”

“There is. Kaiju everywhere. I’m sure you know of these, (Y/N)”

You yelled, “I’m not fucking stupid, Yuta! Do you really enjoy doing this? Acting as if I’m not existing? This is bullshit, Yuta! Stop acting like a dick!”

There was a long silence. It was deafening.

Yuta raised his brows, “I don’t understand why you are acting like this, (Y/N)”

“I’m acting like this because of you! You’re acting like a jerk!” You called out. Your fists balled up to fists; shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes glistened with tears.

Yuta chuckled bitterly, “Oh. I had no choice.”

Tears started to fall from your eyes.“Were you trying to destroy us?” You wiped your tears aggressively, inhaling rapid breaths, “How do you sleep at night?”

Yuta let out a long, slow, exhale and ran a finger on his dirty blonde locks, “What I’m doing is for us, (Y/N). You’ll understand.”

“Did you expect this to turn out better? Yuta, what you are doing is bullshit!”

“I never meant to hurt you, you know?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you did. For the weeks that passed, I was longing for you! I wanted to take care of you, but all you did was to push me away!” You sobbed, vision blurring with tears, “Tell me where did I go wrong, huh? Yuta, tell me!”

Yuta exhaled, giving you a cold stare, “Aren't you tired? Can we just stop this and give our hearts rest?”

You choked back your tears. The universe you are both in—is indeed in chaos. However, that chaos didn’t stop both of your feelings for each other. It was a feeling so rare, raw, full of love. This universe both you are in, gave a lesson to make introductions for lovers that are destined to do great things together, to seize the limited moment the universe has to give to the both of you. Yet the introductions can take time, can be staggered over weeks, months or years. In those times, you and Yuta have sorted out things; to not further complicate everything and stress each other out. This is what you’ve feared, when the time comes, the time of separation, the downfall of the love you both have established for so long. The pain ransacked your systems. It acts like a focusing lens; memories have flooded your mind, flashing towards the next. You saw that one time; the purity of his love, his words echoing in your ears; that you were the only one lover for his lifetime. Then all of a sudden, the jittery feeling collapsed.

Your vision is blurred; you tried to hold anything to prevent you from collapsing. This wasn’t the ending you wished. Never in your life wished to have this dreadful moment; you slapped your cheeks. In attempt to slap out of the paranoia your mind is molding in; but failed. What you are seeing, hearing, feeling—they are all fucking true. The piercing pain, it is present. He approached your figure, you took a step backwards. His breath fanned your face, “I’m already tired, (Y/N). Let go of me, remove me from your system as if I never occupied it in the first place. I don’t deserve you nor you deserved me.”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I am not, (Y/N). I need air, having you with me, suffocates me.”

You exhaled and looked intently at his eyes. You sounded wounded and incredulous. Your voice is cracking, your heart pounding hard. You tried to reach out for him but he took a step back, “Please, please just give me another chance.”

Yuta stood there with an unreadable expression plastered on his face. He whispered,“Leave me alone, (Y/N).”

You blinked. Your chest is heaving up and down. You couldn't help but compare the night with his own state of mind. Just like those clouds, your insides were in chaos. A mess. “Why? Yuta, why?” You tried to reason out this unbearable burning but your mind is in an endless swirl of darkness. Everything felt so confusing, a joke; just like a jumbled set of a puzzle.

“The one you love most isn't always the one you spend your life with. I’m not the guy for you.”

You blinked. His expression darkened. You tried to convince him, it might just be Mark’s death as to why he is acting this way.“You were always the one, Yuta. Where did I go wrong? I will try to change, please.. Just don’t.. I love you so much.” Your emotions turn jagged, insides tight.

His tone was cold. “I know you love me, but I'm sick of lying when I say it back.”

You gasped and clutched your chest. Yuta did everything. Almost everything. Disobeyed a direct order, fucked his subjects, fucked you, loved you, killed, lost someone, everything. But, making you cry wasn’t part of his agenda. He had his reasons, he loved you so much. But for him, this is the thing he should be doing. He had already made a mistake, and he surely doesn’t want to commit it again. He disobeyed the orders of the marshal just to save the people from the vessel. If he just listened, Mark could've been breathing up to this day, fighting with him. But, what he did was for the greater good, and choosing has always come with a price and a consequence.

What he did will surely give you a scar. But he would rather choose to be hated by his love rather than having you suffer forever. Waves of melancholy pooling over you. You bit down your lip, and dropped your gaze. “How could you do this to me? After everything we’ve been through?

You raised your head and saw Yuta. His figure is far from you; away from your reach. He graciously stalked around his room; topless. Several vertical scars lingered on his shoulder blades, his biceps, on his latissimus dorsi. That was the scars from his battle. The scar that reminded him of his loss. You stared at his figure intently. He had defined muscles; his abs are sticking out, his overall physique is a viewpoint and enough evidence of how well-trained and strong his body is. A body of a true ranger. A Jaeger Pilot. Both of your eyes locked.

"People change, and people grow. And I think we just grew apart."

“That is stupid, Yuta!”

“Once, a long time ago, I thought I loved you. I do, but everything has its ends."

You were a big fan of literature. Yuta knew that. And one poem struck to your mind,

"Of all nights, today's the one that had to break my heart fully and irreversibly."--A. M. Wolowicz

Yuta had molded your heart, took care of it, guarded it. But he was also the one who crushed it to pieces to the point, you were so lost, you can’t think of how to mend it back in one.

Military Time: 2100 hours.

“Marshal, the nuclear has been attached to Echo Panther’s back.”

“That’s good.”

“There’s one thing.”

The marshal stopped on his tracks, “What is it?”

“About Yuta.”

The marshal gave the staff a meaningful stare, “Is anything wrong?”

The staff shook his head, no. “The ranger wants to tell you that he’ll be stopping taking in his medication. And he also said to not engage his pod.”

The marshal narrowed his eyes. “Why so?”

“He didn’t disclose anymore, sir.”

The marshal exhaled, “Understood. Is the Jaeger ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are the movements?”

“Along Hong Kong, sir. Then, deep in the breach.”

“How many signatures are noted?”

“Three, sir. Category five.”

“Gather all the Jaegers.”

“Marshal.”

The marshal turned around and saw your figure. You look dishevelled, ruined, broken.

“How can I help you, (Y/N).”

“Place me in the control base.”

“Will do.”

“Movement in the Breach. Double event.”

The alarm wailed inside the control lab. There was a movement, after two weeks of calm, the demons are now starting to strike. Category four. Taeil looked at his flashing monitor, a doughnut in hand. He called in all the staff. The pilots of Hunger Mercenary; Jung Jaehyun and Kim Doyoung are in the base; in their deep green metal suits. Jaehyun and Doyoung stood tall and glorious. The Wong brothers; Lucas, Kun and Hendery, pilots of Taker Shaolin, has worn their glossy red suits. Hairs are noticeable from afar. Your figure is standing near the consoles. You searched for the familiar figure of Yuta. And there he stood, beside Haechan both in you midnight black metal suits.

Taeil walks in the base, back and forth. “Double signatures. Code name Tailcleaver and Thornbreaker and one, unidentified. They’ll reach Hong Kong in an hour.”

Marshal Lau’s voice boomed, alerting all the staff, “Evacuate the city, shut down the bridges. All people should be in refuge. Hunger Mercenary,” he looked at Jaehyun and Doyoung, “Tanker Shaolin,” then towards the Wong brothers, “I want you guard the harbor. Echo,” Then he gave a glance towards Yuta and Haechan, “Stay back at the miracle mile. You are the final option, we cannot afford to lose you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.”

The metals are thudding as the choppers are set to fly out the three Jaegers to the coast lines. There are indistinct radio chatters heard. The pilots are alert, adrenaline pumping in. The orders of the marshal booming in their p.a systems, “Guys be alert. These are category 4s, large in both size and weight.

Jaehyun spoke, “We are near the coast line. Disengaging transport.” The choppers rope disengaged from their Jaeger, and the machine descended downwards. The Wong brother’s have already disengaged their transport as well; their Jaeger dropping onto the oceans. The Jaegers walked along the oceans; creating massive waves after their strides. The night was calm; eerie. Lucas sensed a movement from his right; three o’ clock. The Kaiju was swimming silently, moving fast. The Kaiju looked similar to a large lizard. Its feet were a bed of gloopy pustules; grotesque. Its legs are as thick as tree trunks. The Kaiju’s skin is so thick; leathery; with occasional blue scales lingering on its back. They also do have ginormous torsos, body covered in scales. Each step it took, made the ground shake. A roar. Height tall as a skyscraper. Teeth like rows of ebony daggers. Small beady, ruthless eyes searching for its enemy. The doctor wasn’t wrong when he said the Kaijus were adapting; they were surprisingly fast, agile, strong. The stench of raw flesh on it's humid breath, a glowing blue light illuminated its throat. Flaring nostrils. It was thrashing its tail as it took a fast movement, taking the pilots by surprise. It stood up tall. An ear-splitting roar like thunder booming.

From the right; three o’ clock of the Wong brother’s Jaeger. The Kaiju appeared; its tail sweeping from left to right. Its roar resonated along the coastline. Then, it took a sudden turn, it’s tail aimed for the Jaeger’s torso. The pilots grunted; the hull they were shook at the attack. They recovered from its attack. Kun instructed to engage the nuclear missiles and aimed fully at its throat. There was a loud splash, followed by a spine-chilling shriek.

From the base, Taeil noted the missile launch. His fingers typing vigorously. “One down. The other one is attacking Jaehyun and Doyoung.”

The marshal squinted his eyes, “The unidentified?”

“It’s staying on the portal. Stationary.”

“And what are they up to?”

Taeil shrugged, “Echo Panther will find out about it soon,” he pressed a red button, “Dyoung, Jaehyun, what’s the situation?”

A string of curses unraveled from Jaehyun’s tongue, like a yarn unfurling. The Kaiju advanced. It's golden scales shimmered with hot anger along with it's dark, cold, beady eyes. Doyoung hissed as they staggered from its attack, their metal harness shaking at the aftermath. “This is one son of a bitch.” The Kaiju roared. Jaehyun and Doyoung took a swift punch. But the Kaiju struck up its sharp claw onto Hunger Mercenary’s torso; holding it to its place. The pilot grunted and shouted in pain. The Kaiju roared loudly; as its throat expanded; a glowing cerulean blue liquid spewed out from its mouth. Doyoung yelled, “Marshal, it purged out some type of acid. It is slowly penetrating through the hull.”

“Engage the nuclear bomb and attach to the pod. Now!”

From the base. You watched the electrocardiogram on the digital screens. The electrical signals of the pilots moving in a normal manner. The electrodes are placed on their chest to record the heart's electrical signals, of which causes the heart to beat. The signals are shown as waves. The Wong’s waves were moving fast a while ago; it signified stress. Jaehyun and Doyoung’s waves were also moving at a fast pace. Haechan and Yuta’s waves are moving calmly. Normal. You sighed as you fidgeted on your seat.

“Missile Launching. Alarm Code Red.”

Doyoung and Jaehyun were now heading for their security pod. The AI is counting to five and for five seconds, they have to get the hell out of the JAeger. Otherwise, they will be fried to death. There was a loud blast. The people from the city wailed. Panic. Chaos. Then, loud roar followed by a blinding light.

The marshal grumbled, “What is the health rate of the pilots of Hunger Mercenary?”

“Jaehyun passed out, he got delayed and thus, hit his head inside the pod.”

“Assessment?”

“Dyoung’s vital signs are normal. Jaehyun is unresponsive, I cannot read his pulse.”

“Engage the transport immediately. Lucas, Kun, Hendery, go back to the base. Now! Yuta, Haechan,”

The voice of the two pilots boomed onto the base’ speakers. Yuta’s voice sent a chill towards your spine. “Yes, sir.”

“Transport. Bring Echo Panther to the Breach.”

It's now or never. Yuta held only two choices; to die or to fucking die. And he wishes to die on a Jaeger rather than to die in a hospital

“All ports sealed, ready to submerge.”

“Roger that.”

“400 miles.”

Doctor TY held the microphone, “Remember, Yuta, Haechan. Attach a Kaiju onto your body for the Breach to open through. This is our only way to get through their den. Take the monsters as a bar code, kaching.”

The ocean was fascinating, deep, eerie, lonely. Such thrills as the ocean could only give. Only the deep sea could bring. Yuta and Haechan walked, their strides heavy, the fall was close. It was like a changing panorama if only the Kaiju’s were not present. A rocky wall, not twenty feet away from them, stood up like a sky-scraper, straight and tall. Here and there it was broken by fissures and caves. Everywhere it was festooned with sea vegetation--seaweed, kelp, anemones. All these, with coral that rose like Gothic architecture, were entrancing. Like a dream come true. Suddenly a Kaiju attacked them from behind.

Yuta groaned, as their metal harness shook from the attack. The alarms are wailing. Then, there was another swing penetrating through Yuta’s side. It shoots a piercing pain onto his legs. You gulped nervously, Yuta’s vital signs and rhythms are going berserk. Wild. Even though he had ended everything, the love you have for the man is still present, even if the pain is taking a toll, corrupting you to blindness.

Haechan furrowed his brows, “I cannot see anything. It's moving too fast!”

Yuta pushed the p.a button, “Taeil hyung, we can’t see anything!”

“To your left; one o’ clock!”

So far down in the ocean the sunlight is a soft diffuse glow. But for the most part, the ocean is dim, majority; dark. There were once golden rays from above; and it gave a warm blue hue of the waters; and the deeper the Jaeger went through; the darker the blue color they saw.

The rocks are now silhouettes in the dim. The headlight from the Jaager lit up like the glow of the heat from a winter campfire. There was a lone fish, invisible until it entered the feeble beam.

With the increasing pressure, Yuta and Haechan begin to feel like the water is becoming thicker, like soup. They glanced upward to the surface and their heart rate rose. It was so deep. The voice of caution whispered softly onto them; not to rise so fast, but it can't break through the scream for unfiltered rays and fresh air. Not, until, a Kaiju roared again and penetrated through their nuclear core.

“Let’s get this son of a bitch!” Yuta engaged the sword and struck it towards the head of the Kaiju. It screamed so loud. Its toxic cerulean blood is gushing onto its penetrated head. Echo Panter took a step while dragging the sword that struck the creatures head near the opening of the Breach. Where the lava spews. The Kaiju gave a loud screech. Its tail swooped from behind taking Yuta and Haechan by surprise.

“Echo, be alert of a sudden attack!”

The Kaiju swam far away from them. Then, attacked directly at the Jaeger, coming over at full speed. Yuta kneeled, then Haechan raised his arm; sword glistening. The Kaiju’s mouth was wide open; screams and shriek coming out of its throat. But one thing, a Kaiju does not have is a sense of control. If it strikes, they will, and no one’s gonna tell them to maneuver their ways. Haechan grinned as he ripped the Kaiju apart. Yuta grunted as he controlled his body; the aftershock of the attack was heavy for him. Yuta needs to be stable for the Jaeger not to fly out from the assault. Its cerulean blood clinging onto the body of the Jaeger. Haechan grunted, and folded his arms; finally striking and ripping the creature in half. The sword clamored. The people from the base felt glory.

“Echo, attach the Kaiju onto your body!”

Echo Panther moved and gripped the Kaiju’s head. The people from the base where expectant; glory is coming their way. Not until, Taeil sensed another. “Fuck.”

Yuta screamed into the p.a. The alarms were not wailing, “The hull is compromised! We can’t shoulder another attack!”

“Jump onto the Breach now!”

“Copy sir!”

All the systems are critical. There is a lot of fluid loss. Code Red. Yuta’s leg was crippled. They held the Kaiju carcass limping, towards the opening. The Breach is a meter away, then the category five Kaiju suddenly appeared in front of them. Haechan gulped. Yuta gritted his teeth in anger. Yuta looked at the younger pilot, “Let’s do this.” Haechan gave him a strong nod. Then, they jumped ahead, with the help of the rear jets. Tackling the Kaiju onto the portal. Then, Haechan lifted his arm and sliced thoroughly onto the Kaiju’s back. The Kaiju screeched. Haechan grunted. Yuta yelled, “Hold on!”

The Kaiju screeched out loud in pain. Its tail swinged upward, attacking the rear part of the Kaiju. Haechan and Yuta were already exhausted. Taeil saw how Haechan’s oxygen levels dropped down fast. His monitor beeping wildly. Half capacity. Haechan felt like drowning. Taeil moved to another monitor, typing as fast; to reroute everything. Yuta yelled, “Hold on! I will burn this motherfucker down!”

Yuta activated the heat purge. The nuclear core flashed; burning the chest of the Kaiju. The creature groaned, and wiggled against the Jaeger’s hold. But their tackles and grip was strong. The fire penetrated through the creature's chest reaching its back. It screeched again, then its eyes turned grey. It fell onto the Jaeger’s chest, limp, unalive. They have reached the opening, electricity around them were whirring.Taeyong was right; the only way to enter the portal is you fool the Breach into believing you are of its people. From Taeel’s screen, Echo Panther’s signature suddenly disappeared. They have now successfully entered the portal, The lair of the demons.

Oxygen from Haechan’s side was in a critical state. If he continues on, he will die there. And Yuta won’t allow that to happen; he pulled in his oxygen tube and attached it onto the younger’s suit. Haechan gasped for air. His helmet was fogging. He gave a faint smile, “You’ve done a good job, buddy. You know I was a jerk to (Y/N), but please guard her for me. I will finish this alone.” He pressed a series of buttons. Then, the metal harness whirred, sending Haechan’s figure inside the evacuation pod. Haechan’s eyes were heavy. He cannot decipher his surroundings. He gave Yuta a faint smile. He pushed a button then the pod was released ascending towards the surface.

Taeil voiced, “Yuta is giving Haechan his oxygen. He has already ejected the pod.”

You stood up quick. “What happened? What is happening?”

The marshal breathed, “It was his last will, (Y/N).”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand you marshal.” You pushed aside the marshal and spoke onto the microphone, “Yuta! Yuta!”

Yuta smiled, he heard your lovely voice, again. He blinked slowly; his oxygen levels were already low. He activated the nuclear core. There was a countdown. Five. Five seconds to live his life. He smiled, “I love you so much (Y.N). I’ll love you till the last rose dies.” Yuta initiated the reactor override. You blast the Jaeger to pieces; self destructing. The breach was like a large intestine. Pink and full of life. Electricity everywhere. The baby Kaiju chattered. Their beady eyes staring at the Jaeger. Then there was a loud blast. You were startled at the sound. The ECG line of Yuta was beeping, flat. You burst into tears, calling out his name on the microphone, “Yuta! No!”

It was Yuta’s last will. To save the world, to die in a Jaeger and to tell you how much he loved you. He did it. And he was content.

Five years.

It was five years of play-pretend. Finding ways to numb the pain. It was the start of the dark force. Tearing out the sewn paranoia you had. And replaying the pains of your past. You couldn’t forget about Yuta, he was your first love. Yet, after his death, all you could feel was the terrible pain; because of his disappearance. You would wake up in dawn just to cry till you could no longer lash out your tears. It was clarity that brought each of you, molded you to one, then had become one unit of two souls. But right now, your other half is gone, and you were left alone, numb, in pain. You decided to go to the bar. You felt high, in a daze, this was the thing you could do to forget that you are missing Yuta terribly. A guy pushed you in the bathroom, a tequila in your other hand. He began undressing you. You wanted this, to remove the pain. But was it worth doing? He kissed you. The scene was intimate; two people osculated. But in your mind; you wished it was only him, Nakamoto Yuta. He unbuckled his belt and sat on the toilet bowl. He pumped his member, it’s tip oozing. You immediately removed your pants, and panties and climbed onto his lap. You drank the last shots of your alcohol drink and began to thrust. The guy held your waist hard, guiding you up and down. He gave a moan of pleasure. You tilted your head back, tears flooding out of your eyes. You gripped on the metal pole overhead. You sobbed while thrusting deep. It wasn’t pleasure that you were feeling, it was fucking pain. Grief. It was five years of restlessness. If you could just pay to have him back, you would, but you couldn’t. He was now gone, permanently. You felt the pain glowing into your chest. You stopped thrusting and buried your head onto your fuck buddy’s shoulder.

He hugged you, “Are you good?”

You breathed. You felt bitter, “It’s been so long since I last hugged someone…I had forgotten how it feels like to be held.”

You grabbed the rose from Yuta. His words are still clear in your mind; he won’t stop loving you till the last rose dies. And so, he gave you an undying rose. You felt your vision blurred. You grabbed the flash drive and plugged it into your laptop. Yuta’s gorgeous face came to view and it made you wail. All you did was to cry.

[1] Formylove.mp4

“Hey love. This took me thirteen fucking tries, and I want to make sure this comes out perfect. Handsome I am right? Hehe.. First of all, I want to apologize for being a jerk to you; it was all an act... I don’t want to make you suffer anymore. You see? I was diagnosed with Helmer’s Myopathy and even if I won’t go on a mission, I will still die.. and so I did what my guts wanted me to do… spend my remaining days in a Jaeger fighting off till my last breath... This two weeks I’m away from you, it felt like hell, fucking hell… I wanted to touch you, hug you, but I did this, I distanced myself from you.. to hate me, because this is the only thing I could do to ease your pain. To replace it with anger. But please.. I love you with all my heart.. I won’t get tired of being with you.. To say that I love you.. I fucking love you so much.. I devote myself to telling you that.. I will always be in your heart, my love. I will never disappear.. If you ever miss me, just close your eyes, and I will appear.. That is how much I love you… What I did was for the greater good.. You deserve a peaceful world, (Y/N), my love. And I am willing to sacrifice myself to offer a serene world, for you. I know how much you love literature, hold on.. I have a quote for you, “I guess that's just part of loving people: You have to give things up.” I will give everything up, just for you, (Y/N). I love you so much.”

im nervous about this but since i didn’t proofread this sike. anyways <3

140 notes · View notes

mfingenius · 4 years

Note

I kind of love how you casually mention Harry’s parents in some fics 😭 So here’s a prompt: Harry and Draco start dating in Hogwarts and it gets serious and they catch feelings super quickly and Harry brings Draco home one weekend, sneaking out of the castle so that Draco can meet his parents proper 🥺❤️

Babe I took so long to reply to this I’m so so sorry

To make up for it,,,, here’s a roughly 2.4k fanfic :D

21.11.2019

“Potter,” Snape drawls, managing to sound unimpressed even in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here?”

Harry glares at the professor while rubbing Draco’s back soothingly. It’s the day before the start of the winter Holidays - they’re both in a boarding school called Hogwarts - and they’re going home tomorrow. Draco’s having an anxiety attack - he has them worryingly often - over meeting Harry’s parents over the break; it’s the third time, and Harry has told him multiple times that he doesn’t have to meet his parents yet, if he doesn’t want to, but Draco refuses to cancel now.

And Harry refuses not to be there for his boyfriend.

“I’m helping,” he says, much less aggressively than he wants to. He wishes he could punch Snape - he hates him - but Draco’s anxiety attacks don’t do well with harsh voices, and the last thing Harry wants to do is make things worse.

“These are the Slytherin dorms.” Snape says, as if one of his students isn’t retching right in front of him. “You’re not a Slytherin. You can’t be here.”

“Are you going to physically throw me out?” Harry asks in return. “Because if you’re not, you can get out now. I’m not coming with you.”

Draco retches again, and Harry grimaces and moves closer to his side, touching the back of Draco’s hand lightly. As soon as he does, Draco’s hand latches onto his with a death grip, ashen and sweaty, and Harry squeezes tightly.

“Twenty five points from Gryffindor, Potter.” Snape says disapprovingly.

Harry doesn’t give a fuck.

Draco rests his head against Harry’s shoulder, shuddering, and Harry presses his lips against his hair, wrapping an arm around Draco and holding him tightly.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “It’s alright. Everything’s okay, love.” Draco lets out a shaky breath and wraps a hand around Harry’s jumper weakly. Harry places his hand over Draco’s and kisses his hair again. “Think about the road trip, alright? At the beginning of the school year? We had fun, right? It was fun.”

“Yes,” Draco says, trembling. “Yeah.”

13.09.19

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.” Sprout calls out.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry groans.

“What did you expect, Potty?” Malfoy sneers next to him. The corners of his lips are pulled down, and he looks just as unhappy as Harry is about being paired together.

Honestly, Harry doesn’t know. They always end up as partners for anything Elective-related - it’s Botany this year, an elective Harry isn’t really interested in. He only chose it because Malfoy and him have ended up not only in the same elective every single year they’ve been at Hogwarts, but also paired together in them.

He’d thought Botany would surely be Malfoy’s last choice.

Apparently, Malfoy had thought the same thing.

Still, he was hoping that this time, by some miracle, he’d be paired with Ron, or Hermione, or even Ernie McMillan. Anyone but Malfoy.

They’re going on a school trip to the mountains, so being paired together not only means working together to identify plants and cultivate them when they come back, it means sharing a room while they’re in the cabins.

Harry honestly doubts he’ll survive an entire two weeks staying in the mountains with Malfoy. He doesn’t think he’ll survive the first night sharing a room with Malfoy. Getting stabbed in the stomach with a fork and bleeding out would be a quicker, less painful death.

Still, it looks like Harry will have to suffer through Malfoy instead of the fork.

Oh the joy.

“I’m not doing our work by myself.” Malfoy informs him snidely as everyone goes to find their partners. Ron gives him an empathetic pat on the back and makes a face at Malfoy before he walks off.

“Have you ever done our work all by yourself?” Harry asks, annoyed even though Malfoy has barely said a dozen words to him. It’s a special ability that only Malfoy seems to have, of pissing Harry off without even opening his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Malfoy says. “Calculus? Geography? Fucking Christ, Physics?”

“Bite me.” Harry tells him.

21.11.19

“I was an arse.” Draco says in a low voice, damp eyelashes fluttering gently against Harry’s shoulder. Snape left some time ago, Harry thinks, but he doesn’t know how long. He’s too focused on Draco to notice anything else. “We hated each other.”

“I don’t know if that’s what it was.” Harry shrugs lightly. He’d thought he hated Malfoy at the moment, obviously, but, now that they’re dating, Harry sees it differently. “We were always awfully invested in each other’s business. We could’ve just avoided each other.”

Draco snorts tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Awfully invested sounds about right. Pansy had the theory that all of our problems would just be solved if we fucked. She postulated it in fifth year.”

Harry snickers. “And was she right?”

“Well,” Draco says with a light smirk. “We fucked. And now here we are.”

Harry laughs.

17.09.19

“Potter I fucking swear to god,” Malfoy groans, glaring at Harry tightly.

It’s only the second day, and Harry’s already been driven half insane by Malfoy. The room they’re sharing is tiny, and it has quickly become evident that they’re very different people; Malfoy hasn’t left a single belonging in the room, and half of Harry’s clothes are already thrown about.

It seems to annoy Malfoy, so Harry hasn’t picked them up.

“What?” Harry asks, rolling his eyes as he picks plant samples. “I’m doing my part of the work, aren’t I?”

“You’re supposed to wear gloves you moronic git.” Malfoy snaps, tossing a pair of gardening gloves to Harry. “Some of the plants are poisonous.”

“As if you care if I get poisoned.” He says.

Malfoy doesn’t answer.

21.11.19

“You should thank me,” Draco says, teasingly, before he begins brushing his teeth. The vomiting is over, finally, as is the anxiety attacked. Harry can’t imagine what Draco feels like; his anxiety attacks leave Harry feeling drained and not quiet like himself, and he’s not even the one to go through them. He imagines it’s much worse for Draco. “I saved your arse by carrying extra gardening gloves.”

“Don’t act like that was for my sake,” Harry responds, amused. Because he can read Draco quite well now and knows every sign of exhaustion and worry that there is to look for, he has his hands on Draco’s hips, half out of the need for comfort and half because he’s not entirely sure Draco doesn’t need his actual support. “You didn’t carry extra for me.”

When his anxiety attacks are particularly bad, he can’t quite move afterwards, and this one was Bad, capital B. He’s almost sure he’s the only thing holding Draco on his feet.

“Saved your arse anyway,” Draco says around his toothbrush.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, squeezing his boyfriend’s hips lightly. “Well, I saved your arse the next day.”

Draco scowls at him through the mirror.

17.09.19

“Get out of my way.” Malfoy snaps.

“You’re sick,” Harry says, unimpressed. This camping trip has been surprisingly fun for Harry. Mostly because it hasn’t been fun for Malfoy. Turns out his skin burns easily, and he’s had red cheeks and a red nose for the last three days. He’s also been sick for two of them, but Harry had thought it was none of his business.

It still isn’t, really, but it’s harder to ignore when it’s pouring rain and Malfoy still wants to go outside instead of staying in the bloody cabin like Harry is telling him to.

“So?” Malfoy snaps. “Thirty percent of our grade depends on how this goes.”

“I’ll pick the samples today.” Harry rolls his eyes “And I’ll take notes, and pictures, and do the work. I’m not an idiot, you know?” Malfoy shifts uncertainly, looking back towards the empty cabin, eyes focusing on the flickering candle. The cabins are old, and, because of the rain, the light isn’t working. All they have is the candle, and neither of them know how much longer that’ll last. Harry raises an eyebrow. “What? Scared to stay here alone?”

“No!” Malfoy snaps, much too quickly.

“Then stay,” Harry says, and slams the door closed behind him, pulling on his raincoat.

21.11.19

“You don’t have to do this,” Draco says, but his hand tightens around Harry’s when he turns the bathroom light off. They’re both seventeen, and, in Draco’s opinion, too old to be afraid of silly things, like the dark.

He’s fine, most of the time. Whenever he’s stressed or particularly anxious, though, he gets terrified of the dark, though. Harry doesn’t mind grabbing his hand and reassuring him things are alright. He needs reassurance in other things that other people might think are silly, and he never wants to make Draco afraid that he’ll laugh at him.

“I know.” Harry pulls him towards the bed - honestly, he doesn’t know what he’d do if Snape had actually kicked him out - and gets in first, waiting for Draco to snuggle against him comfortably before pulling the covers over them. Draco’s roommate and best friend, Blaise Zabini, is in the other bed, still soundly asleep. Harry pulls the drapes around the bed closed.

“Better?” He asks, and Draco nods against his chest, moving closer. Harry wraps an arm around him while Draco throws a leg over his waist.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Draco whispers, and Harry smiles softly.

“Obviously,” he says. He can’t believe it was only two months ago; it seems like much longer. He looks at the clock Draco keeps against his headboard and smiles. “It’s already after midnight. Our first kiss was officially two months ago. Happy anniversary.”

Draco shakes his head and grins. “Sap.”

“Only for you, love.” Harry vows.

21.09.19

“Malfoy,” Harry says hesitantly.

He’d had a great time during the day. Since Malfoy was sick, he’d been able to be with Ron and Hermione the entire day, but he’d come back from picking samples to find Malfoy in a full blown anxiety attack. It had been hell calming him down. It had taken almost half the night, and now they’re both lying in their respective beds, Malfoy shivering and with a slightly distant look on his face, and Harry feeling immensely uncomfortable.

“Hmm?” Malfoy hums lightly.

“I didn’t know you had anxiety attacks.” He says.

He doesn’t think he’d want to talk about it, if it were him, but Malfoy hasn’t told him to shut up yet, and Harry’s a nervous talker.

“Oh,” Malfoy says lightly.

“Don’t you… take meds?” He asks cautiously.

Malfoy blinks at him - Harry can see his wide eyes in the pale moonlight, looking almost transparent with how light they are - and his voice sounds oddly unguarded when he answers.

“No,” He says.

“Why?” Harry asks.

“My mom doesn’t know,” He says. “I can’t tell her.”

Harry knows very little of Narcissa Black - because she’s Sirius’s cousin, he knows that she got pregnant with Malfoy when she was seventeen - four years younger than Lily, Harry’s mother, and pregnant at the same time - and that she was disowned for it. Sirius told him that she’d married Malfoy’s father - Lucius Malfoy - briefly, but she’d divorced him when she was nineteen, when Draco was barely a year and a half.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I can’t worry her.” Malfoy says.

Lightning cracks outside, and Malfoy flinches, sitting up in bed quickly. Harry sits up too.

“I - I need to get out of here,” He says, voice trembling. Harry throws back the covers and stands quickly as Malfoy begins to scramble off the bed desperately. “I - I can’t-”

“Stop,” Harry says, softly but firmly, grabbing Malfoy’s arms. “Stop.It’s alright. It’s okay. Let’s sit down, okay?”

He leads Malfoy to the bed again, sitting him down and sitting beside him. He doesn’t know much about panic attacks, if he’s honest, but Lavender Brown had one, once, in the middle of the common Room. He remembers how Parvati Patil calmed her down.

“Tell me something,” Harry says. “Five things you can hear. Five things, come on Draco.”

Malfoy doesn’t seem to notice that Harry called him by his first name, and he flinches again when lightning cracks again. Harry squeezes his arm.

“Five, come on. I’ll start.” He says. “Lightning.”

“Lightning,” Draco repeats shakily. “R - rain. I - I can - the wind outside. I-”

“That’s three,” Harry tells him. “You’re doing good. Two more, come on. Two more.”

“I - wood creaking. Your voice.”

“Good,” Harry says immediately. “That’s good.”

They get through four things you can see - Harry’s shoes by the door, the trees outside, the blanket on the bed, the suitcases under the bed - three things you can smell - rain, dirt, and mint, which is Harry’s shampoo - and two you can taste - blood, because he’d bit his lip too hard, and toothpaste.

“One you can feel.” Harry tells him. “Just one.”

The wind howls outside, and there’s a loud sound outside the window, which makes Malfoy nearly jump off the bed.

“I - I can’t - Harry-”

And Harry can see that everything they’ve done isn’t working, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He kisses Draco.

22.11.19

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter, it’s nice to meet you.” Draco says. He’s smiling uncertainly, and for all that Harry enjoys his dad’s and his godfather’s pranks, he prays they won’t say anything weird now. Draco’s anxious enough without them doing something, and though Harry made them promise to behave, he’s still anxious himself.

“Call me Lily, sweetheart,” Harry’s mom says immediately, smiling and shaking his hand. Draco shakes James’s hand, after. Harry can hear Sirius singing from the kitchen, deafeningly loud, Remus laughing and telling him to shut up at the same time.

“I, err-” Draco begins, and Lily immediately wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Are you hungry? You’re terribly thin, sweetheart, are you sure you’re eating enough?” And she leads him inside, Draco sending a slightly panicked look back at Harry a moment before turning the corner towards the kitchen.

“So,” James says, after a bit, grinning brightly. “Draco Malfoy, then? No chance of someone else?”

Harry snorts and shakes his head. “No dad, no one else.”

James sighs, seemingly long-suffering, but then he laughs and claps Harry in the back. “Oh well,” he says. “If it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped. Come on. Let’s go save him from your mother.”

Harry laughs.

-------------------------------------------------------

Send me a Request :D

If you enjoyed this, please consider buying me a kofi

Masterlist: [1] [2]

Commissions

#drarry #fanfic #mine

872 notes · View notes

huilian · 3 years

Link

Summary: Five times the ruby earrings changed hands, featuring: the Queen Thief thieving, Gen wrecking havoc with his siblings, a raging at the gods™ episode, an obligatory palace sneaking scene, and finally, Gen’s kids wrecking havoc (with Gen).

The woman her father was courting was wearing ruby earrings, and she hated it. She always knew which items her father had stolen, even if she sometimes didn’t understand why, and these earrings bear the mark of her father’s hands.

This time, however, she could guess the reason her father had gifted that earring to this woman. In the year since her mother had died, her father had courted three different women. To give his children a mother, he had said, but she knew better.

None of the Thief’s current children were named after him and his god. None of the Thief’s current children fated to become the next Thief of Eddis.

Not even her.

She knew she had the god’s favour. Cleverness and skill she had in spades, more than any of her siblings, and when she jumped from roof to roof, she could feel the god’s hands guiding her. But she was not named after him, and so she would not be the next Thief.

She used to hate it, as a child. She would steal as many things as she dared, and she would place every single one of them on Eugenides’s altar, praying that the god would choose her to be the next Thief, if she showed him her skill and persistence. She gained a reputation that way, of being a thief as prolific, if not yet as formidable, as her father.

Her name still remained Vassilissa. The Thief of Eddis was chosen by the gods, and no one could change their decision.

She had learned to accept it, even if sometimes, when she placed her offerings on Eugenides’s altar, she wanted to scream and rage at the god. It’s not unheard of that the blessing from the God of Thieves skipped a generation.

She knew. She had checked every single record.

But her father would not stop trying. Since her birth, her mother had had two still-births, several miscarriages, and then finally, last year, had lost her life on the birthing bed, delivering yet another still-birth. Before the pyre had even cooled, her father had searched for a new wife.

Vassi had driven off the first two women easily. They were a regular at the court of Eddis, and when they realized that their belongings had disappeared and reappeared on the altar of Eugenides, they knew what it meant.

This one, however, was not a regular at the court, and no matter how many of her jewelry went missing, she did not catch the hint. She had stayed long enough for her father to give her the ruby earrings, and that brought Vassi back to this situation.

She had to steal it. The earrings. But no doubt her father had known about her part in driving off the last woman he had courted--He thought it was simple jealousy. For all the bragged about his mind being his best asset, sometimes her father could be exceedingly foolish--, and would do everything in his power to keep her from driving this one too.

Vassi didn’t mind. She loved the challenge.

In the end, it wasn’t even that hard. Whenever the earrings weren’t being worn, it would be under the guard of her father. The simple solution, then, was to steal them when they were being worn. A shy smile to the woman her father courted, a framing of her request to speak alone as a child who would like to know her future step-mother better, and a span of twenty seconds were all she needed. She showed up to the next court session with the ruby earrings on her own ears, carrying herself with all the grace of a queen.

They called her Queen Thief, then. A thief as formidable as her own father.

Her father courted no more women after that.

***

Temenus ran with all the speed he had in his body, cursing his siblings all the way, from Xenia to Euphemia to Iris and Penelope, to Alexis and all the way to Stenides.

Xenia had stolen their mother’s ruby earrings last week. Why, Temenus didn’t know, but that started the chaos. Mother had stolen the earrings back, of course, but chaos, like the waters of the Arachtus, cannot be stopped when it has started its journey.

Like clockwork, the day after Mother had gotten them back, Euphemia stole them from her. And then Iris had taken them from Euphemia. Which was then followed by Penelope stealing them from Iris. By that time, it had become the nightly entertainment for the court, to see which one of the women from the Minister of War’s family would show up wearing the ruby earrings.

And then Mother had stolen them back, again, and Stenides, sweet, sweet Stenides, had decided that it’s not fair that only the women could play, and told Temenus his intent to steal the earrings himself. Before Temenus could tell him what a horrible idea that was, his brother had dared him to steal the earrings too.

He had to accept. He should have known that it was futile to resist the call of chaos, especially when his mother was at the very center of it.

He cursed again, this time focusing the worst of it on Stenides. Why had his brother dared him to do it? And whose idea was it to measure a man’s courage by the insane bets he took?

The ruby earrings, rattling together in his pocket as Temenus ran, weighed down his leg with every step he took. The image of his mother, grinning delightedly as she caught him taking her earrings, weighed down the other one.

She had come into the room as he had closed the jewelry box. He expected her to take the earrings back immediately, but instead, she had smiled and lifted up her hand, all five fingers splayed out. Temenus had felt his body relax at the sight, but then, she bent one finger, leaving only four splayed out.

Temenus knew exactly what that meant. He pocketed the earrings and ran as fast as he could, leaving the false key he had used to open the jewelry box in the first place.

“Why are you running?”

The voice caused Temenus to jump. He looked around, searching for the source of the voice, but found no one. Then, his mind connected the voice to a face, and he looked up.

“Because I have Mother’s earrings in my pockets,” he told his youngest brother.

Eugenides gave him a shrug. “Then why run? She’d find you anyway.”

That was true, but Temenus was not going to say that.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m your brother, that’s why.”

“So should I go help Stenides?” Gen asked, voice full of the same mischief that decorated their mother’s face when she saw Temenus holding her earrings. Truly, Gen was their mother’s child, more than anyone else, though Xenia certainly tried.

“If you don’t want to help me, then don’t,” Temenus spitted out. He has no time to argue with his youngest brother. Either Gen would help him or not, nothing he said would sway the boy from his decision. Temenus took one more deep breath, preparing himself to run again. Gen was right, he wouldn’t be able to run from Mother forever, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Before he could run, however, Gen dropped down from the tree he was sitting on and smiled up at him. “I’ll help,” he said, the picture of innocence.

Temenus knew better than to trust the innocent face, but he had no choice. He took Gen’s hand and let his brother lead him through the courtyard and to the hidden passageways of the palace of Eddis.

When they were already so deep into the passageways that Temenus had no idea where they were, he turned around and saw that Eugenides was gone. Cursing, he put his hand into his pockets.

They were empty.

***

Eugenides looked up to the altar of his namesake, and clenched the ruby earrings tighter in his hands. He had stolen the earrings from his mother’s jewelry box just three days earlier, intending to present them to her with a smile and a glib comment about losing her touch.

She didn’t lose her touch, but she did lose her step, and the earrings stayed in his pocket throughout the funeral ritual and pyre.

The altar of Eugenides sparkled with the offerings from generations of Thieves. Near the front, Gen could see the fibula pins that were his grandfather’s offering, and scattered between them, the earrings that were his mother’s.

The ruby earrings burned in his hand.

A thief would only fall if her god drops her. So either Eugenides had dropped his mother, or…

“Or you don’t exist,” Gen said to the silent altar. He knew the sentence is heresy, especially said inside Hephestia’s temple, in front of her half-brother’s altar. But the other option was that Eugenides had dropped her. Eugenides had dropped his mother.

Gen clenched down even tighter on the ruby earrings, their points leaving indentations into his palm. Then, with a last look on the altar, he pocketed the earrings and turned around.

His grandfather’s words rang in his ears. Send a prayer as you start your work, send a prayer after you finish it, and leave a gift once a month on the altar of Eugenides. Gen had placed a gift on the altar this month, and he would do so again next month. The gods did not exist, or even if they did, they do not have any interest in lowly mortals such as themselves. But it would not do to abandon the tradition. He would leave a gift on the altar of Eugenides next month, just not these earrings.

Let the god of thieves have other earrings as gifts. This one, Gen would keep for himself.

***

With one hand outstretched, Gen carefully moved the velvet case containing the headband of the Queen of Attolia. She was beautiful, as she always was whenever Gen climbed into her chambers to look at her. Her face was expressionless, as it also always was, but in sleep, the lack of expression gave her a peaceful look, instead of the uncaring mask she wore whenever she wakes.

She suited the ruby inlaid in her headband marvelously. She would suit the earrings marvellously as well.

He had had the earrings remodelled, the design on the gold surrounding the ruby made to match the design on her headband. No one had asked what became of his mother’s ruby earrings after she died, and when he brought it to the goldsmith to be remodelled, the goldsmith did not recognize the earrings.

That was just as well.

The points on the earrings still left indentations on his hand. Gently, he opened his fist and placed the earrings, positioning them so that they are exactly next to the case.

Moonlight entered the windows of the queen’s chambers, dousing her features and softening them, making her look less like the stone statues of Hephestia and more like the girl who had danced under the orange trees, years and years ago. Eugenides wished that he could make her look like this all the time, and not just when she’s sleeping.

He stepped closer to the bed, drinking in the sight of her. A voice inside him urged him to reach out, to tangle his hand on her hair, but the more sensible voice inside him, one trained by years and years of practicing his trade, told him that to do so would be the most foolish thing he had ever done in a life full of doing foolish things.

He did not reach out. He stayed where he was, looking to the Queen of Attolia, watching as she drew in breath after breath. When the moonlight had dimmed, signalling that dawn was fast approaching, he nudged the earrings one last time, arranging them so that they looked as pleasing next to the case as he could, and climbed out of the queen’s chambers.

It would be foolish to think that the queen would wear his earrings, but then again, he made a living out of doing foolish things.

***

“My King,” Attolia said, not moving from where she was seated as her attendants did her hair. By now her attendants knew well enough the antics of her husband, and did not think if out of the ordinary that the queen was speaking to what seemed to be empty air. “Do you know where my ruby earrings are?”

Materializing out of nowhere, Attolis replied, “I thought they’re in your jewelry box?”

“They were,” his wife answered. “They are not anymore.”

Waving the attendants out of his way, Attolis made his way to the queen and placed the last of the pins in her hair. He took one look at the box, which was currently laid out on the queen’s dressing table for her to choose which jewels she would like to wear today. The ruby earrings were not the grandest of the jewelry inside the box, but they were very conspicuous in their absence.

“Oh,” the king breathed out. “She does grow bold.”

“Your Highness,” Costis called out to the seemingly empty tree in the courtyard of the palace of Attolia. “Please come down.”

No response.

“Your Highness,” he tried again.

This time, a small face appeared from between the leaves. “Shh, Costis!” the princess of Attolia said. “You’re going to get us caught!”

“Your Highness,” Costis said again, flashing back to all the times he had done this for the king. “I’m sure there is no one who would want to catch you.”

Just as he said that, however, another small figure appeared out of nowhere. “Nia!” the prince of Attolia cried out as he ran towards his sister. How he managed to evade the squad of guards assigned to guard him, Costis would never know. The same way his sister escaped hers, he supposed. “You have it!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do! Why else are you in a tree?”

The princess changed her tactics immediately, the same way Costis had once seen Attolis do. “So what if I do?”

“You said we would get them together!” Hector protested.

“You’re too slow!” his sister retorted back.

“I’m not! You just keep leaving me!”

“If you can’t keep up, then you’re too slow, Hector,” Attolis said from somewhere behind Costis. Costis did not relax though. Not yet. It was always a toss on whether Attolis would curb his children’s behaviour or give them pointers on how to escape their flustered guards and caretakers running behind them.

Well, not really. Mostly the king would give pointers.

“And you don’t leave anyone behind, Eugenia,” the king continued, walking past Costis to the base of the tree. “A good companion is rare for a thief. You must take care of them.” He tilted his head up, and Eugenia, without even looking, jumped down to her father’s waiting arms.

“He’s too slow,” the princess said again. Hector, who had placed himself next to his father, complained. Loudly.

The king let out a snort of amusement. Ignoring the complaints from his son, he extended his hand towards the princess raised an eyebrow.

Scowling, the princess reached into her pockets and took out a pair of ruby earrings. Costis felt his eyes grow wide. Those are the queen’s ruby earrings, the pair that she wore more than any other earrings. There were many rumours surrounding that pair of earrings, and Costis was privileged enough to know that some of them did have a basis in truth.

Costis expected the king to pocket the earrings himself, but, as always, Attolis’s actions could not be predicted. He pulled the princess close and put the earrings on her ears, navigating them easily even with one hand.

Costis would never tire of watching his king doing things that never should have been possible with one hand.

After the earrings were in place, Eugenides brushed a hair out of her daughter’s face and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then, after a shriek of protest, smiled and did the same for his son. The children then talk over each other, both of them eager to tell their father about the adventures they had today.

From his place behind his king and the princess and prince, Costis stood watch.

#queen's thief #eugenides #attolia irene #the forbidden sisters #(this is going to be a tag)#temenus #queen thief #costis ormentiedes #eugenia #hector #lian writes #rott #rott spoilers #return of the thief spoilers

15 notes · View notes

daintykeith · 3 years

Note

Hi, so I know that you are writing 'Love Gun' in a language that is not your first. Do you publish in both or just English? What drew you to focus on MacCready as a companion and how did you come up with the concept for Bluebird, your 'f!sole'?

Howdy!

I'm writing and publishing it only in English. This is because I want to familiarize with this language in a way that is not only translation— you see, a language has its quirks and things that, when it's seen from other languages' perspective it couldn't make sense. Slang and metaphors are unique according to the language and this remarks the reason why I'm writing in English.

For your second question, at first I was interested in Deacon and in fact, Love Gun was originally planned to have him as the protagonist! It fitted many of the ideas I had and some of those remain in the actual version, but I struggled to make it work. After days and days of uncertainty, I found an old picture I had on my phone about an old playthrough where MacCready was my companion. My mind exploded. Then, after I played FO4 once more and watched a lot of YT videos about companions reactions, I realized he was the one and only. Someone resilent, professional and yet kind, funny and with a lame taste in fashion was a perfect target.

And lastly, Bluebird. Oh my, she was so fun to imagine. As I said previously, this story was first planned as a Deacon x fem!ss and she was completely different to how she now is. I was inspired by this fic (which name I can't remember and God, I'm still looking for the name) where fem!SS was a foreigner, Swedish I think, and had moved to America with her husband to America. She struggled to talk with Deacon and others and the times she forgot how to say a word and her thick accent had driven me insane— in a good way ofc. I had fallen in love with that concept and wanted to play with it. MacCready was more similar to Sole Survivor than I had thought and that was essential to develop his arc in Love Gun.

Bluebird was originally planned to be a scientist! But after some research in AO3, I discarded it because it was overused! I wanted to come up with something different on its own way and after some research, the Bluebird we know came to be. However, the last thing I came up was her pseudonym. I wanted something memorable and tbh, I wanted it to be related with the word "bird" in honor to an ol' WIP of mine called "Songbird". After giving it a lot of thought with WORD opened in my laptop, the name Bluebird came up between some of the suggestions I had and fell in love with it as soon as it was written.

Thank you so much for asking, blossom! Have a nice day, take care (人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

14 notes · View notes

amarantine-amirite · 3 years

Text

The Seven Gates of Hell, a Seven Little Monsters fan fiction

Summary: Could a stupid ghost story turn out to be true?

According to local lore, there used to be a mental hospital in a remote location halfway between Centerville and Atlantic City, New Jersey. They constructed the hospital there so as to isolate those deemed insane from the rest of the world. Just before what would eventually be “Victory in Japan” day, a fire broke out. Due to its remoteness, firefighters could not reach the hospital in time to save it. Many patients died in the flames. Only a handful of patients managed to escape.

The local search party erected seven gates to trap these few remaining inmates. Only one gate, the first, is visible during the day. The other six can only be seen at night. No one has ever gotten past the fourth gate, but if they passed all seven, they would go straight to Hell.

As the taxi sped away from Whooton School, Renata Wiggum sat there surprised that she successfully snuck out of the window during third period geography and called a taxi.

“So, did you clog a toilet or something?” asked the cab driver.

“No,” Renata said, laughing, “not this time. I have somewhere important that I need to be.”

“So, what was so important that you had to sneak out?”

Renata’s thoughts came to a dead stop. She had to sneak out for two reasons. The first was that her third period geography teacher was in the middle of giving his class hell for cheating on a map making assignment. If she didn’t get out soon, she’d never make it in time.

But the second reached far further: she couldn’t tell anyone that she did ballet. Why? She had Asperger syndrome, and she was on an IEP. In order to stay on the IEP, she had to use a wheelchair. The only reason she took ballet was to stop her legs from atrophying from sitting in the wheelchair all day.

And no one at school could ever find out. If they did, she could at best, lose her IEP; or at worst, get expelled for faking a disability. She pushed it down for so long, that even though someone independent of the school asked her, she couldn’t respond. All she managed to get out was, “My, uh, geography teacher got mad. Kept us all past dismissal time.”

“And why is that?”

Renata felt herself begin to loosen up. “This is kind of funny,” she said, “but we had a map making assignment, and a bunch of kids in my class went to the bookstore, bought an atlas, and turned it in as their own work.”

“So they cheated?”

“Pretty much” she snickered, “he went on this rant about how his son is in college, and in college, they come down extremely hard on cheating”

Before the cab driver could say anything, he slumped forward, his head hitting the horn. The noise made Renata jump. Uh oh, she thought, this isn’t good.

It got worse extremely quickly. Not only did the driver pass out, he very quickly drove off the road.

As the cab veered off the pavement onto the ground, Renata couldn’t help but look out the window. She really should have called 911, or at the very least, AAA, even though the last time she called 911, she and the operator were on two very different sides of the International Date Line.

Renata looked out the window as the cab wound down the hill. She’d kind of been here before, but only during the day. At night, it looked different. The church, the gas station, and the empty fields felt like they were different, like a picture on the internet versus what you see in real life.

The closest they got to civilization was when they drove across the infamous “Black Rd” - the last paved road before the location of the seven gates of hell. The cab blew through the first and second gates, and it came to a stop at the third.

When Renata got out of the cab, she was surprised. The third gate was nothing like what Renata pictured. She half expected a door barricaded by axes that weighed about a thousand pounds. Not only was it not a gate in the woods, there wasn’t even a forest - just an open field. The gate itself turned out to be a small, chain-link gate (but no fence) halfway through a footpath. Driven by curiosity, Renata walked around the gate and followed the footpath. She discovered that it came to a set of stairs. She went down the stairs, and found herself entering a hallway. The hallway had an exit sign that flashed every 1.5 seconds and wall-to-wall carpet on the floor. Given where it was, the carpet was surprisingly dry.

Renata then went up another set of stairs, hoping that they led back outside. They didn’t. Instead, they lead somewhere with a green glow, wallpaper all around, and a dead end where the light was. The hall continued on in the dark.

Almost like she was on autopilot, Renata bolted down the dark corridor until she came to a ladder. When she climbed up the ladder, she found herself in an increasingly decrepit room with exposed wires. Renata side-eyed them hard. The wires appeared to move all on their own. Lights flickered on and off with increasing frequency.

Renata got to the end of the hallway, she turned left. Instantly, the hallway turned into something resembling a steam tunnel with milk crates scattered around, and concrete walls and a round ceiling. The deeper Renata went, the more and more dilapidated the hallway became.

And then, out of nowhere, “Da da da”. Her phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, Renata, it’s me.” One answered. “So, I just flew over the area where your cab broke down, and I saw you get out.”

“Yeah, you’re not gonna believe this” Renata said, “I had to sneak out of school to go to my own ballet recital. How embarrassing is that?”

“I think now would be a good time to tell you that your recital was cancelled for some guy’s funeral.”

“Really?” Renata said frustratedly, “Oh, balls!” She kicked the air and pulled her lips inwards from all directions. “How did you know my show was canceled?”

“Because Six showed up, argued with the guy’s next of kin, and now it’s all over Twitter.” One responded.

Renata laughed. Because, why not? In a weird way, it’s actually pretty funny.

Regardless, something else was on her mind. Renata felt smug. She was the first person to get past the fourth gate of the seven gates of hell, and she owned it.

At that moment, One hit some heavy turbulence. She dropped about 200 feet.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #seven little monsters #7 little monsters #fanfic writers of tumblr

10 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

socialmediiaa-blog

Untitled

vikasreddy1957-blog

Untitled

deandempzee

actually, i'm happy for you that's, uh, impressive

mostpromotion-blog

Untitled

webuzzblogger-blog

WeBuzzBlogger