#Hope THAT doesn’t signify anything and goes away soon!

[msfcatlover]

24hrs post-surgery, I cannot express what a relief it is to have that tooth out of my skull. My adjacent teeth feel a little weird, but I am genuinely shocked by how much more energy & focus I have without the constant thrum of pain, plus finally being able to properly eat again.

I had ice cream today, and it was freezer burned to hell, but still one of the best things I’ve had in a long time. I had mac & cheese again, because I finally had the energy to actually make the sauce. I decided to go downtown & browse the second-hand shops because I wanted to. I haven’t wanted to leave the house in months.

Holy shit, I could actually cry. I feel like a person again. When was the last time I wasn’t in pain?

[grossrottie]

I wanna hear more of your thoughts on LionAsh

WKBDAKNDE. I was replying to this and the app deleted it omg—

Here we go a second time! :3

OKAY SO.

I think my favourite version of LionAsh rn is “Lion makes it very clear he’s going to date Ash when he’s older, and Ash just brushes it off and forgets about it, only to find that Lion is VERY SERIOUS”

So in that vein!

Lionblaze does everything he can to get Ashfur’s attention. Whenever he goes out hunting, he doesn’t come back until he has a pile of prey, and he immediately drags the largest piece over to Ashfur to share together.

As soon as Lionblaze gets his warrior name, it’s like a flip is switched. He changes his behaviour to better fit what he hopes the relationship with Ash will be. Lionblaze is more confident, more stubborn, and actively attempts to court Ashfur.

The first time it happens, Ashfur comes back from a late night patrol and enters the warriors den to see his nest covered with flowers, herbs, and soft feathers. He’s confused, but brushes it off and goes to sleep.

The second time it happens, Ashfur is in the clearing when Lionblaze brings him a beautiful, plump rabbit and a small collection of herbs that stimulate mating urges and signify an intent to mate. Ashfur glances at the herbs and back at Lionblaze, then begins to eat the rabbit.

“What’s with the herbs?” He asks. “Are you travelling?” He isn’t stupid, and he knows mating rituals. He recognizes the array of herbs. But he genuinely thinks that Lionblaze is going to give it to another cat. Perhaps Cinderheart, she might be a possible mate for Lionblaze.

“Just to keep my queen healthy and happy.” Lionblaze says, his eyes slightly wide as he waits for his former mentor to pick up the (very clear) hint he thought he was putting down.

Ashfur feels a brief twinge, and instantly brushes it off, focusing on eating his meal. “Mm. Well, good luck.”

Lionblaze stands there for a few more moments, waiting eagerly, only to realize that Ashfur either 1) didn’t realize what Lion was trying to do or 2) completely dismissed him as a mate. Either way, Lionblaze ducks his head in a respectful nod and backs away to try again another day.

Some time later, Lionblaze goes out to the lakeside with Jayfeather and Hollyleaf to discuss his plans and collect herbs for Jayfeather. Both of Lionblaze’s siblings are well aware of his intentions (as are a few of the clan cats as well) and they do their best to suggest ways to catch Ashfur’s gaze.

“What if you bring him a big juicy piece of prey?” Hollyleaf suggests.

“I tried that, and mating herbs. It didn’t work.”

“What about gifts? I’ve heard Mousefur talk about how Cloudtail was constantly showering Brightheart in gifts when he was attempting to court her.”

“Gifts?” Lionblaze purses his lips. “Like what? I did the nest thing, but I don’t even think he noticed it.”

“Do something personal!” Hollyleaf declares. “Putting flowers in a cat’s nest is typical, what about something that shows you know Ashfur well?”

“If you want, I can see what Ashfur thinks of you.” Jayfeather offers hesitantly.

Lionblaze shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to cheat and have you look into his mind or anything. Ashfur is important, and I don’t want it to be fake.”

Jayfeather makes a noise of subtle approval.

They continue their herb collecting, Jayfeather and Hollyleaf having a relaxed conversation while they let their older brother think his options over.

The third time he attempts to court Ashfur, it’s out on a hunting patrol that Lionblaze asks Ashfur to accompany him on.

Lionblaze stays close to his former mentor, sometimes subtly, with just a gentle touch of his tail, and sometimes more obviously, leaning against Ashfur’s side as they walk together.

“Have you ever had a mate before?” Lionblaze asks suddenly.

Ashfur hesitates. He had gotten close to becoming mates with Squirrelflight, before she changed her mind and went back to Brambleclaw. “Not quite.” He answers.

“Hm. What would your dream mate be like?”

“Uhm,” Ashfur glances around the forest floor, scanning for signs of scurrying prey. “I suppose someone strong, with a sense of humour.” He says, not really focusing on his answer. He knows that he can’t be picky when it comes to mates, considering that no cat had shown interest in him since Squirrelflight’s brief phase. “Anyways, having a mate only brings heartache.”

“Like Brightheart?” Lionblaze pipes up, ignoring Ashfur’s last sentence. He detected that sharp heat below the words, a sign that although Ashfur said it, it wasn’t his honest belief.

“No.” Ashfur replies simply. “She’s nice, but she’s soft.”

“Soft?” Lionblaze repeats, confused. His own golden pelt was soft, did Ashfur like rough fur?

“Yes, I prefer cats who have some stubbornness to them, with a spontaneous streak and energy that I can match.” Brightheart was kind and gentle, and although Ashfur respected her, he wouldn’t want her as his mate, and she wouldn’t want him. He was harsh at times, had a bit of temper and a knack at holding grudges, and that wouldn’t complement Brightheart’s personality. Cloudtail fit her much better, he had a loving and warm side to him that much overshadowed his dark side. Those two were meant to be together.

“Oh, like Dustpelt?” Lionblaze suggests, trying to narrow down what kind of cat Ashfur would be interested in being mates with. (Or, honestly, trying to get even a smidge of information either way.)

Ashfur makes a noise of amused disagreement and speeds up a bit, on the hunt for prey-scent. “My old mentor? No, he’s fine, but I’m not usually into older cats.”

Lionblaze feels a thrill shoot through him. He has a chance! “Do you want a mate?” He asks, careful to keep his tone level and polite.

Ashfur shrugs. “Are we going to hunt, or are we going to spend the whole time talking?” His voice has no annoyance to it, just a dull pain that’s barely hidden.

Lionblaze nods.

The next day, Lionblaze is on a mission. He is going to catch Ashfur’s eye no matter what it takes, even if he had to stand at the very precipice of the camp wall and yowl his intentions for all to hear.

He gathers herbs, checking with Jayfeather to make sure they mean what he intends. He hunts down flowers, collecting the most beautiful blooms. He finds an ash tree and claws strips of bark off the trunk. He hunts for Ashfur’s favourite type of prey. He goes to the lakeside and drags his paws through the sand to try and find hidden treats. He eventually finds a beautiful stone, sanded to a smooth surface with gorgeous colours swirling through it. Gold and silver hues intertwine and mingle within the stone, shining in the sunlight and reflecting Lionblaze’s hopes.

Lionblaze takes all of his treasures into the forest, until he finds a perfect spot to leave them. Lush green grass stretches across the clearing, making the blooming flowers all around seem even more beautiful. He sits down among the flowers and begins to braid the thin strips of bark together, adding herbs and blossoms as he went. He had to ask Jayfeather for help to learn how to braid, as the blind medicine cat was much better with his paws than Lionblaze was, and now Lionblaze is filled with gratefulness for his siblings. Without them, he would have stumbled even more clumsily through his attempts to attract Ashfur.

Finally, just as the sun begins to dip below the foliage of the trees, Lionblaze checks his work over and waits.

Not long after, his ears prick as he catches the sound of paw steps through the grass. He turns just in time to see Ashfur step into the clearing, his expression confused.

“Jayfeather said you needed my help, is everything—“ Ashfur glances up and freezes, going silent even as his mouth hangs open with a half-finished question.

Lionblaze doesn’t give him a chance to fully process the scene in front of him. The golden tom grabs a light blue flower and darts forward, placing it by Ashfur’s ear.

“I have a question!” He declares, his excitement and nervousness mingling to something that he struggles to contain. “I, uh—“ He stumbles on his words, not sure how to begin. “Remember when you promised me you’d be my mate?”

“What?” Ashfur blurts out, shocked to be reminded of the conversation they had moons ago.

“I said I would be your mate when I got older.” Lionblaze gently reminds him.

“Well, yes, but— A few days ago you had herbs, weren’t you bringing them to Cinderheart?” Ashfur has to grasp at straws to keep from gaping in pure shock.

“What? No! She’s nice, but she’s not you.” Lionblaze steps back and picks up the braided circle of ash wood, then brings it to Ashfur and carefully drapes it over the gray tom’s neck. The flowers and herbs mix beautifully with Ashfur’s pelt, and Lionblaze almost melts with how handsome Ashfur looks.

“But—“ Ashfur tries, at a loss. Of all the cats in the clan for Lionblaze to try to pursue, it was him? That was absurd. Lionblaze was a good warrior, he was strong and respectful and his entire being was filled with joy and determination. He could pursue any cat he wanted to, and he would most likely succeed.

But Ashfur? The spiteful, regretful, overlooked tom who hadn’t even considered having a mate since his previous heartbreak?

“Why?” He asks, his voice weak with confusion. “Lionblaze, I understand that you might think this is how this should go, but—“

“Why not?” Lionblaze interrupts, panic rearing up within him at the thought of being turned down so quickly. “I told you I would be your mate when I was older, and I am. Bigger, too.” He took a few steps forward, coming muzzle to muzzle with his former mentor.

Ashfur was surprised to realize that he had to look up to meet Lionblaze’s determined gaze. “Yes, but—a mate should be someone you love, Lionblaze, not just whoever taught you your hunting moves. Besides, what would your parents think? And the clan?” He shakes his head, looking bewildered. “Lionblaze, this is—“

“But I do love you!!” Lionblaze exploded, his fur puffing out. “I think you’re gorgeous, the most beautiful tom I’ve ever seen. You’re strong and brave, and I’ve liked you ever since I was a kit.” He spun around and quickly grabbed his final offering, then turned back to Ashfur and dropped it at his paws.

Ashfur looked down at the small thing in front of him. The braided ash and flower wreath around his neck made it difficult to lean too close down, but in the setting sun he could see why Lionblaze was so excited to show it.

It was a round stone, the surface smooth and glossy, reflecting the rays of sunshine and making the swirling colours within even more magical. Glimmering silver stripes tangled together with gold, as if Ashfur’s and Lionblaze’s pelts were represented within the shining surface.

“Ashfur,” Lionblaze said, his tone hard and determined. Ashfur tore his eyes from the stone and looked back up at Lionblaze. “Please, take these offerings and consider me as your potential mate.“ He bowed his head, trying to remember what Mousefur had said was an older courting request. “If Starclan agrees, I would be honoured to be one with you, to hunt together here and in Starclan, now and forever.”

Ashfur stared, his mouth agape. After a moment he realized and snapped his jaws shut, but his expression was no less shocked. “Lionblaze—“ He began, unsure.

“Ooooh, say yes!”

Ashfur’s ear twitched as he caught a very quiet voice, not from Lionblaze. He cast a sidelong glance at a nearby bush, then shook his head and pretended that he hadn’t noticed. He had other things to focus on. “I can’t say yes. Not now, at least.” He quickly amended, seeing the slump in Lionblaze’s shoulders. “It’s just—I didn’t expect this.”

Lionblaze held his breath and raised his head a smidge, just enough to see Ashfur’s expression as he spoke. The older tom was clearly conflicted, and Lionblaze felt a pang of guilt at that. He hadn’t meant to make Ashfur uncomfortable, he had only wanted to make his intentions clear.

“How about this.” Ashfur conceded, glancing away from Lionblaze and chewing his lip as he thought. “Give me a moon. Okay? I’ll think about it, and then we can talk about this again.” Not only for his own sake, but for the possibility that Lionblaze would realize his mistake and aim his attention towards someone more deserving of a loving mate.

Lionblaze lit up. It wasn’t perfect, and there was no promise coming from Ashfur’s lips. But still, the older tom agreed to consider it, which is more than Lionblaze had expected mere moments ago when Ashfur had begun to say no.

“Understood.” He said, unable to keep from smiling. “One moon.”

One moon until he would have his answer. One moon until he would find out Ashfur’s true feelings. One moon for Lionblaze to tell Hollyleaf to not follow along next time and hide in a bush.

One moon.

[auramindedd]

E-girls Are Ruining My Fucking Life - SMAU*

Part 2

CorpseHusband x FemReader - Y/N

Desc: Some high school friends, Brooke, Austin, and Mason, decide to go visit you as it’s been a long while before you three have seen each other. Except, things don’t really go so well after some stuff goes down on social media.

Warnings: cussing

Notes: HAVSUSH i had so much fun writing this one, especially the writing at the enddd

hope you all enjoy! :))

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Immediately after posting the picture of you in a skirt, it blew up more than any of your other posts. Not even your face was in it, and you had posted a picture before of one of your outfits.

After letting the post be on Twitter for a while, you go back on, looking at what’s on your feed. Two tweets catch your eye, one of them making your heart drop, the other making your stomach fill with butterflies.

AustinLangley: Fucking hell she’s gorgeous 🥺

Corpse_Husband: What did I say? E-girls are ruining my fucking life...

Of course, like you fucking thought, Corpse’s reaction to your post was the one that had your heart fluttering. The only reason you knew he was reacting to your post was because Rae had told you he had posted about it on his second account. You don’t follow him there. You think it’d be weird since the two of you aren’t really close.

Austin’s reaction made you feel weird. He had been trying to hit on you all night. You two have known each other for so long now, but when you guys had had a thing for each other a while ago, it didn’t feel right. It still doesn’t feel right. You’ve tried to give him a hint since you’re not good at confrontation, but either he’s not getting the hint or he’s just blaintly ignoring it. You wouldn’t doubt that he’d ignore it.

After you finish getting ready for bed, Brooke and Rae come in, looking like they’re ready for girl talk.

“So,” Brooke drawls, sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with the furry blanket that is thrown over it. She looks at Rae, signifying for her to continue.

“So, Austin asked us who Corpse’s tweet was about and um...” Neither of them look like they want to continue. You already have a feeling about what this is going to be about.

“So you told him it was about me, he got heated, like really and over-dramatically heated, because he has feelings for me, but now he thinks me and Corpse are together.” You finish for them, feeling tired of Austin’s shit. They both nod their heads cautiously.

You get out of bed, giving Brooke and Rae a small smile that way they don’t think you’re mad at them. And you’re not, just stressed because every time you decide to hang out with some old friends, he has to ruin it by exaggerating everything. You’ve known Brooke and Rae for so long, even before they became social media influencers/gamers. It sucks that whenever Brooke does come over, he tries his hardest to come over to yours and Rae’s apartment, too.

You walk out to the balcony, finding him sitting on the chair, watching LA’s city lights. You stand at the balcony, waiting for him to calm down since you could still see his breathing was heavy. You put your arms on the railing, letting whatever cold breeze was there blow past you, cooling you off a bit. You can see the clouds starting to come in even at night. They’re dark, some brighter than others, but no doubt it’ll rain soon.

“I’m sorry,” Austin speaks up. You don’t turn around.

“I mean, for the record, Corpse and I aren’t dating. Just compliments.” You tell him, wanting to get that out of the way.

“But you wouldn’t mind dating him...” Now you turn around.

You furrow your eyebrows. He’s still not looking at you. He’s looking out at the view, his chin resting on his fingers. “I’ve only known him for like three days.”

“Yeah, but you two seem to be getting pretty close. You had a good time playing Minecraft with him, no?” Now he looks at you. With that manipulative stare, manipulative tone, and when he nods his head to get you to agree with him. It’s happened way too many times, you know how he works now.

“An amazing time,” You give him the fakest smile you could muster, making sure he knows it’s fake. You walk inside, slamming the balcony door shut. You don’t know why you feel like you’ve just broken up with somebody. Maybe it’s because of how long you and Austin have known each other. Either way, you want him to go home, but you know he won’t go home until Brooke and Mason go home. At least they’ll be moving to LA soon.

Mason gives you a smile, but you ignore him, feeling bad afterward. You’re not in the mood for anything and you can see that Brooke, Rae, and Mason know you aren’t.

You quickly get in bed, trying your hardest to fall asleep. Your thoughts start to consume you.

I overreacted, too.

I could’ve had a normal talk with him.

But he’s an ass.

So, overall, and in the end, you come up with the fact that Austin is an ass and you don’t want to keep trying to fix the friendship. If it ends, it ends, and you wouldn’t mind.

You don’t really resort to drinking - just one shot and you’re done. You quickly put away the shot glass and alcohol, heading back to your room. You answer Corpse’s message, happy to be talking to someone who you know will listen.

It’s not that Rae, Brooke, or Mason wouldn’t, but they know the situation, it’s good to see/listen from a pair of fresh eyes.

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Taglist:: if you wanna be added, message me or comment! :)

@letsloveimagines @liljennyx3 @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @blackheartemojivibes @lo-manburg @walkingonchairs @strawberrydonkey @tayloryorkscurls @bluepancakemix @prettylittlealiengirl @yeetmymood @victoria-a567 @loraleiix @moonlightsimp @jades-bullshit @teenloves

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Tags - ignore::

[tsumtsumland]

“can’t help falling in love with you”| m.atsumu x reader

genre: fluff, sickly sweet romance

warnings: none

author’s note: this is a compilation of a few drabbles I wrote for one of my events, I just cleaned them up a bit and decided to post them as a one shot. Happy Birthday Atsumu!

A loud chime signifies 12pm and a frustrated growl leaves the faux blonde’s mouth. He glances at the antique grandfather clock on the wall and his fingers resume their wrestling with the bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. He grumbles quietly, refusing to accept that he should’ve just listened to you and gotten the clip-on ones. No, he wanted to do this right. Everything Atsumu was passionate about, he did with the utmost dedication, and this was no exception.

In all his life, he’s sure he’s never been as passionate about anything as he is about you (volleyball is a very close second). He huffs in annoyance when he tries again and the bow just does not budge, it looks sad, and droopy. He plops down on a chair in the room, trying to calm his thoughts. His hands are a bit sweaty, and he narrowly avoids running them through his hair and ruining it. That’s never happened before… he idly wonders why.

Osamu can’t help the amused smirk on his face while watching his twin struggle with the piece of fabric around his neck. He knows exactly what the problem is, but he also knows his brother is too stubborn to ever admit it… that he’s nervous. He strides over to the blonde version of himself, and grabs the tie around his neck, startling Atsumu.

“Hey! I can do—"

“Shut up, Tsumu,” he bites back, leaving no room for argument. His fingers expertly weave the piece of silk into the perfect bow. “There,” he mutters, and dusts a piece of lint off the black suit jacket. Atsumu is quiet, but he can see the gratitude in his eyes.

“Learn to accept help sometimes, Tsumu, you don’t have to do everything yourself,” are his parting words as he leaves the room.

Atsumu is frozen for a moment, before a fond smile breaks out on his face. He knows his twin means that in more ways than one, and he remembers similar words coming from you, his beloved, after a particularly brutal game in the first season you’d started working for MSBY. He was exhausted, and angry, after a nasty defeat, his fingernails bleeding, and knuckles bruised.

“It’s okay to accept help sometimes, it doesn’t make you weak or incapable,” you’d said softly as you held his calloused hands in your own soft ones, wiping away the blood carefully.

He thinks maybe that’s one of the first moments he realized he was in love with you.

Sitting in a room for too long before an event like this is bound to drive anyone insane, especially someone who thrives on being active. It’s 1pm now and Atsumu decides to take a walk, just to calm his thoughts down a bit. His feet lead him straight to the main hall, one you’d both chosen together. Your tastes weren’t so different, but you did have a bit of a difficult time choosing a venue, until this one. It was perfect.

He glances around the room, the crystal chandeliers you’d chosen hung decadently from the ceiling, reflecting on every glassy surface. It was all opulent, but not overdone. He wasn’t big on flowers and couldn’t understand for one minute why in the world they were so expensive, they’re flowers for crying out loud! His fingers reach out to touch one of the delicate, blush-colored petals of the centerpiece, and it takes him back to another time with you.

He thinks of the moment you walked into the flower shop to choose these very same flowers, and all he could see was you. Surrounded by so much beauty, yet you put it all to shame.

“I hope you’re not thinking of running away,” comes a stern voice that was all too familiar to him.

Atsumu bristles, and a short chuckle escapes him as he turns to face the only other woman he felt any real affection for, apart from you.

“I’ve never run away from anything mom,” he grins at her.

“That’s my boy,” she smiles, pride shining in her eyes.

His father comes to stand next to her, and leans over to pat his shoulder, “I hope you enjoyed your last few days of freedom, son,” he laughs when his wife glares and hits him.

Atsumu nods, he looks at his parents and wonders if that will be you and him in the future, the fluttering in his stomach tells him that he wants it to be. He remembers the day he brought you home to meet them. You were so nervous, and he’d only told them that he was bringing someone over. They assumed it was just a friend, because prior to that he hadn’t ever brought a serious girlfriend home, so the thought didn’t cross their minds.

They weren’t prepared for the way he looked at you, or the change in his rough demeanor when he held your hand and introduced you to them, stumbling over his words a little. If you were a little more aware in the moment, instead of trying to maintain your sanity, you would’ve noticed the sparkle in his mother’s eyes and the knowing look in his father’s as they looked at you two. It didn’t take them more than an hour into the dinner to give you both their seal of approval. They knew instantly that you were the one, and so did he.

“You’ll do fine, Tsumu,” his mother’s words are gentle and honest. They put him at ease.

…wise men say, only fools rush in…

Atsumu’s fidgeting stops, and he’s eerily still as the doors open. The moment his eyes fall on you, he feels like the breath’s been stolen right out of his lungs. You’re stunning, and all he can focus on is how you seem to shine brighter than the hundreds of twinkling lights that cover the ceiling and arches of the room.

…some things are meant to be…

It feels like every moment of his life has been building him up for this very one. Atsumu knows he’s not the best man in the world, he’s rough, and many think he’s rude, but he’s never cared for others’ opinions…until the moment he met you. You made him want to be a better version of himself. It goes without saying that he believes you will always be the better half, but he’d like to think that he’s deserving of your light.

…take my hand…

Tea lights in glass holders, and flower petals, illuminate the pathway to your soon-to-be husband, and you take a deep breath when you lock eyes with him. He’s dashing in his tux, his golden hair and eyes highlighted under the canopy of blush peonies and fairy lights at the end of the aisle. He looks like a prince right out of a fairytale. He’d definitely laugh if he heard you say that out loud, and you have to bite back a laugh at the thought of that conversation.

Atsumu isn’t sure how it happened until his vision is blurred, and he’s struggling a little to catch his breath, all he knows is that you’re there and you’re so beautiful, and he can’t imagine it being anyone else. He remembers now nervous he was on the night he proposed to you at the top of the Tokyo Skytree. The way your eyes lit up, and how the city lights paled in comparison to the radiance of your smile as you squealed a “yes!”

It’s barely visible but as you get closer, you see it, the wetness on his cheeks it’s so rare that it happens, that you notice. A wave of emotion hits you so strongly that you almost go weak in the knees.

…take my whole life too…

The look of absolute devotion, and pure love in his eyes is visible to everyone in the room, especially to you.

…For I can’t help falling in love with you…

[by-nina]

Sunday

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2021 | Day 2 – Serene Rating: K+ Genre: Romance/Fluff Word Count: 1,640

A/N: Dedicated to my good pal @candidhart, whose big and sexy brain first came up  with the idea of Royai playfighting in bed. Song inspiration: "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5. Enjoy!

Roy reaches for her in search of comfort. His slow, trembling fingers brush her hair away from her face and behind her ear, and he releases a deep, tense breath. He is now relaxed as well, maybe even enough to go back to sleep and keep soaking in her warmth for another hour or—

"AHH—!"

———

When he wakes warm in his bed and entangled in a woven blanket he has owned most of his life, Roy knows at once that it is Sunday morning. While he is half-asleep, he doesn't question the unusual weight on the other side of the bed, or the way his body is curved to make room for company that he isn't used to having. It takes another moment for him to remember that this isn't right. This isn't something he had planned.

This simply isn't done.

His eyes snap open, and what he sees before him is a perfect painting right out of his dreams. His confidante, his Lieutenant, his Riza, sound asleep in the sunlight that comes in from the window behind him. It's a wonder the sun hasn't blinded her awake. She is a wonder. Her hair shines in the light like pure gold, draped over her bare arm which looks deceptively gentle at rest—all of her does.

"Serene" isn't a word that Roy (or anyone, really) would typically use to describe Riza Hawkeye. In this moment, it's the best word he has. Even her breathing is so quiet that he would have missed it under the faint birdsong outside his window if he weren't paying attention. He shifts the slightest inch closer to hear it better; he thinks he catches her heartbeat as well.

Roy is no fool. He knew just as well as Riza did that this was bound to happen eventually. What else could their heartfelt conversations and comfortable silences have led to? What other consequence is there for trusting each other so wholly that they've needed to be careful not to give too much of themselves in doing so? And yet the foregone conclusion does not negate how he feels right now, and all that is is nervous. Every part of him shakes down to the bones; every noise rings in his head in spite of his quiet bedroom.

Nervous because in spite of the evidence before him, this couldn't possibly be happening, and goodness knows what situation he will actually wake up to once he comes to his senses;

Or because this is real, and he truly is lying next to Riza, and she has never been like this with him—or (he selfishly hopes) with anyone, for that matter—and no matter how blissful the moment is, it will end, and they will never allow themselves to make the same blessed mistake again;

Or perhaps because Roy has never cared for anyone like he cares for Riza, but what will she think? What will she say? What will she be like when she wakes up and finds that they have crossed the line they swore to never cross, that they have risked everything that they have devoted their lives to?

The thought terrifies him.

Roy reaches for her in search of comfort. His slow, trembling fingers brush her hair away from her face, behind her ear, and he releases a deep, tense breath. He is now relaxed as well, maybe even enough to go back to sleep and keep soaking in her warmth for another hour or—

"AHH—!"          

Next thing he knows, he is on the floor with a throbbing cheek, and Riza is sitting up on his bed, eyes wide and alert, panting, holding up his blanket against her body with the same fist she had decked him with. It takes them both a second to realize what has happened. Then Roy winces as he falls back, leaning limply against the side of his bed, and the expression on Riza's face turns into one of panic and concern.

"Roy—Colonel! I didn’t mean to—"

Riza scrambles off the bed and leans in closely to check the damage. She pushes Roy's hand away from the bruise now forming on his cheek, exclaiming—"Did that hurt? Are you all right?"

Another moment passes before they realize that she hasn't let his hand go. Their eyes meet—or, Riza's eyes meet Roy's, because he hasn't looked away since she came up face to face with him. Her expression changes again, this time displaying shock and disbelief over what they had done. She withdraws from him, pulls back her hand.

"I'm sorry," Riza breathes shakily. "This was a mistake. We shouldn't have let this happen. You and I..."

Roy has been afraid of this as well. He has carried the fear with him long before they even came dangerously close to breaking all the rules. And although the mistake has long lingered on their horizon, it's the prospect of losing Riza because of it that he cannot fathom. Even now, he is afraid that he is already losing her before she has even put any physical distance between them.

And so, he smiles.

Riza stares at him disbelievingly, apprehensively. "What are you—"

Then she half-screams, half-laughs as Roy attacks her sides, fingers running and jabbing playfully from under her arms all the way down to her hips. It never occurred to him that Riza could be so ticklish, but wherever his hands go, she seems to only cry out more loudly. She has fallen to the ground, defenseless—almost as startling as his new discovery. Then she's kicking in the air involuntarily, pushing him and thumping away at his shoulders and arms without quite hurting him. Roy begins to crack up as well.

“Roy Mustang!” Riza yelps amid gasps of breath and laughter, “I swear I’m gonna—!”

“You’re gonna what, Hawkeye?”

In one swift motion, Riza catches him by the wrists and flips him over, straddling his belly to pin him down with his back on the floor. Roy pushes, but Riza quickly goes for his ribs—now he is the one in raucous fits of laughter, writhing and twisting as though it will hide the ticklish parts of his body out of her reach. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots one of his pillows perched on the edge of the bed. He makes a grab for it, but Riza is quicker than he is, and suddenly she is alternating between smacking him with the pillow and tickling him wherever she can touch him.

He is helpless between the pillow and her hands, but not for long—“Stop—I’m warning you—!”

Roy reaches for the small of her back and the back of her neck all at once, and the effect is instantaneous. Riza flinches and shrieks and she's distracted enough to drop the pillow. He takes the chance to pull her down towards him. His fingers drum against her body, eliciting her laughter, and then he rains kiss after kiss on her neck, then her ear, then her cheek. Riza giggles at each turn, then slaps the floor repeatedly to signify surrender, to get him to stop. Soon, she gives in; she kisses him right back.

Roy doesn't quite remember how he held Riza the night before, or how he kissed her, but he'd die before he forgets the way she is now. Riza is dressed down to her underwear and one of his old shirts, hair undone and untamed. Her lips are sweet and passionate against his, beautiful with the smile she wears, and he loves her like he has loved nothing in this whole world.

At long last, they break away from that blissful silence. First, they exchange a glance, then they smile tentatively, like they've just realized for the first time what they feel for each other. Roy reaches up to Riza and tucks her hair behind her ear. She strokes his unbruised cheek gently with her thumb.

"Good morning, beautiful," he says softly.

"Good morning.”

Riza kisses him once more, then slowly rolls off and lowers herself onto the floor next to him. He pulls her close so she can lay her head on his chest. As she does, she reaches across him and grasps his free hand tightly. Roy feels her heartbeat through their clothes, and he knows that Riza’s mind is wandering; she isn’t quite there with him now. He gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

After a while, she says, "Was that you trying to get back at me for punching you?"

“I can’t even court-martial you for that when you and I are clearly guilty of a graver offense.”

Riza lets out a short, dry laugh. "So what was that about, then?”

"I couldn't be sure at first that you were actually lying next to me, and that I wasn’t dreaming. It seemed too good to be true." A pause. His voice drops to nearly a whisper. “I want to keep waking up like this—next to you, hearing you laugh. Even if it's... complicated, even if there's still so much ahead of us, I've decided that I don’t want us to worry about how we can get through this. I don't need to worry as long as I have you."

Roy can tell that she spends the following moment deep in thought. There is hesitation in her breath, a slight tension in her shoulders. Then, Riza slides her fingers between Roy’s, pressing her entire body into his by the slightest inch. He knows the way she thinks; this is Riza standing still in the eye of the storm, struggling to navigate their quiet in search of serenity. But to Roy, there is nothing to be afraid of, because if there’s anything he knows from the way she has stood by his side all this time and from the perfect way she fits into him now, it’s that Riza isn’t going anywhere.

She asks much later, "Should I make us breakfast?"

He turns and buries his face in her hair, already half-asleep again when he responds.

"Stay. It's Sunday. We could just stay here a little longer."

[im-sure-i-love-you]

“Is that, like, magic?” 

Zolf jumps a bit, head jolting up from his book, as Sasha uncharacteristically breaks the silence between them. Her gaze is intense, focused on the table between them and it takes Zolf a moment to realize that she’s staring at his hands as he unconsciously fiddles with his ring. 

“Is what magic?” Zolf asks, marking his place in the book and setting it aside. He’s a bit self conscious about the movement of his hands now but he tries to ignore the prickling anxiety rising within him in order to give Sasha his fullest attention. 

Sasha’s eyes dart away and her shoulders tighten. She looks as if she is closing in on herself, making herself smaller. For a moment, Zolf worries that he’s already ruined whatever conversation they were going to have. Then, so quietly that Zolf almost misses it, Sasha mutters: “Your ring.” 

“My ring?” 

Sasha nods almost imperceptibly, eyes constantly moving but looking anywhere but at Zolf. 

“Oh.” Zolf blanks for a second, completely unprepared for this topic of discussion despite the, frankly obvious, clues that lead to it. “Uh, it’s not, no.” 

Sasha’s shoulders relax slightly but she still seems a bit tense. She flexes her hands, a casual but deliberate movement, before shifting in her seat. She brings her feet onto the chair, pressing her knees between her chest and the table, and tucks her hands away in a subtle crossing of the arms. “Good,” she says. 

Silence falls between them. 

Zolf knows that he could let the conversation go there, return to his book. Let the silence go from fully awkward to what it is usually (which is only slightly awkward). It would certainly be the easier thing to do. But Zolf doesn’t think he cares much for the easy way out nowadays. Not when this could be an important discussion for the both of them, if the remaining curiosity in Sasha’s eyes was anything to go by.  

“Do you want to know what this ring means?” he asks, this time twisting the black ring around his middle finger on purpose. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Sasha mumbles and Zolf smiles a little because it’s such a Sasha response. 

“It’s, uh, it’s an ace ring?” Zolf nearly winches at the uncertainty in his voice. It isn’t uncertainty about his identity (he made his peace with that a long time ago) but voicing it out loud, to another person. That wasn’t something he was familiar with and it showed. 

“An ace ring…” 

“Yeah! Ace as in asexual. It means-” 

“I, uh…” Sasha interrupts although Zolf can’t really bring himself to be irritated by it. “I know what it means.”

Zolf nods and a sort of understanding passes between them. They’re quiet for a moment, Sasha’s eyes fixed on the other side of the room and Zolf drumming his fingers lightly against the table. 

Sasha speaks up the moment after Zolf begins to think that the conversation has ended: “What does the ring mean though?”

“Oh, um, I think it’s supposed to signify that someone’s ace? So that people who are ‘in the know’ can recognize you?” Sasha’s face closes off a bit at that and Zolf kind of understands why. She is an incredibly private person (for good reason) and that something extremely personal to be revealing to random strangers on the street, even if it would be well received. “That’s not really why I wear it though.” 

“Why then?” The question is blunt and a bit strangled as if Sasha is trying to get the words out as quickly as possible, before she can overthink them.

“It’s more a reminder to myself. That I’m secure in and proud of my identity. It sort of… anchors me, when I’m less sure of myself.” Zolf pauses, looking down at the ring on his finger in quiet contemplation. “Of course it isn’t everything. I dunno if there’s a biromantic ring. I’m not aware of it, if there is.” 

“Do you… do you know if there’s an aromantic ring?” 

“Oh, um… I think so?” Zolf thinks back to when he purchased his ring from that little shop. “It’s white and I think the shopkeeper I bought mine from mentioned that it goes on the left hand, instead of the right.”

Sasha nods, looking a bit pensive. 

“Would you- would you like one?” 

“I dunno. Rings aren’t really my style.” Her crossed arms seem to tighten even further, as if she’s trying to stop herself from fidgeting. Strange, really, given her propensity for the action. She was usually bursting with quiet energy. Always ready for a fight, even in the quietest of moments. So why…?

Oh. Suddenly, Zolf understands. Or, at least, can connect the dots. He feels bad for not realizing sooner, the trauma that Sasha must have surrounding rings. He should have known as soon as Sasha asked him whether his ring was magical. He wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing rings either, not if he went through what Barret put Sasha through. 

Zolf doesn’t say anything, knowing that it would only prolong Sasha’s discomfort. Instead, he simply nods and begins to try and subtly remove his hands (and the ring) from view. 

Before he succeeds, however, Sasha speaks: “But it’s nice, y’know. Nice to be able to associate rings with something good again.” 

Zolf stops his shifting, smiling a small smile in Sasha’s direction. “I’m glad.” They fall silent for a moment. “You know, when you feel comfortable enough, you can borrow my ring to start, if you want. I can promise you that it isn’t magical or dangerous in any way.”

Sasha smiles as well but it seems to be more of a reflex than anything fully genuine. “Yeah, maybe,” she says, releasing her hands from the tight hold she had on them in order to twist the hand that was missing a finger in such a way that, to the casual observer, it simply looked like she was warming them.

Zolf nods again. He was expecting that. They didn’t have quite enough trust built up between them yet. Maybe one day they’ll get there. He hopes so. 

He opens his book back up and begins to read, Sasha’s quiet presence in the background a reassuring comfort.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Closets & Wendy’s.

“Last day of Pride!”

Dean projects himself onto Cas’s bed, ending up sprawled on his front, with an arm slung over Cas’s lap.

On receiving no more greeting than Cas’s hand landing in his hair and starting to card through it, he lifts his face from the comforter, props himself up on his elbows - chin tucked in a palm - and stares at his boyfriend.

Cas looks upset.

The corners of his lips tilt passively downwards, eyebrows carrying most of the weight of his frown.

“Cas?” Dean asks, neutrally - already regretting his overhyped entrance.

“I’m sorry- I don't feel -”

Words fade out, and Cas pauses. Then he turns to actually look at Dean, the sadness seeped into his eyes, and Dean doesn’t waste a moment getting up, knee-waddling over into Cas’s space and pulling him close.

Cas comes easily, planting his head on Dean’s shoulder, and exhaling a tired breath when Dean runs a hand over his back.

“What are you feeling?” Dean asks, after a beat, now trying to soothe Cas’s tense shoulders, rubbing gently over the cotton. Cas leans into his touch.

About three years of therapy, and nearly six years of being roommates - undergrads, and then actual friggin’ grad school - with Cas, basically Dean’s personal mascot for healthy communication, has led him to definitely know that it’s always a better alternative to talk about what you are going through, instead of what you aren’t.

(Or, you know, what you think you should be, just because your dumb, insensitive boyfriend who’s been obsessed with Pride since finally coming out and-slash-or best-friending up with Charlie Bradbury, is. And rather loudly, at that, because Dean Winchester’s a goddamn idiot.)

“Disappointment.” Cas says, morosely, but almost as soon as he hears his own words, he rephrases. “Uh. I’m the disappointment.”

“Well, did you secretly sneak out and mark yourself absent for the entire semester in all your 4.0 GPA classes when I wasn’t looking?”

“Dean.”

“Fine, 3.7.” Dean throws back. “Big friggin’ deal, nerd.” Cas lets out a huff of breath which almost resembles a chuckle, and Dean squeezes his arm around Cas. “You know that would’ve totally been a four if I’d been less distracting.”

“Interesting.” Cas corrects.

“Hot.” Dean throws back, just because he knows it’ll make Cas crinkle into one of his fond ‘what-do-I-do-with-you’ smiles. It does. 

“Perfect.” And Cas throws in a sigh, as if to solidify his point, and leans in to nuzzle Dean’s neck in a way so intensely Cas, that if anyone else had ever tried it, he’d either end up being tickled to death, or running the hell out of dodge. 

“We’re on you right now, Cheesy McCheesington.” Dean smiles back, and goes on. 

He’s not willing to let Cas close up into a ball of repressed emotions with happy only on the outside. That’s way more Dean’s thing - or rather, used to be. He knows he’s bettered his coping mechanisms. Mostly because every part of his life involves Cas now, and anything with Cas is good. 

They’ve grown a lot together - grown through a lot as well, and this is how they’ve done it. By talking through, the Castiel way. It still throws Dean off sometimes, how far they’ve gotten.

So when Cas whines in protest into Dean’s shirt, he knows exactly how to turn it into a side-hug. One of those, where they end up staring at each other from a three-inch distance.

Staring hard, Dean says it. “You’re the farthest thing from a disappointment, Cas. To anyone.”

The lecturers all adored him, their friends made it a point to keep proclaiming their affection out loud (thank god for Charlie Bradbury and co.), and Dean doesn’t think he could be more proud of Cas if he tried. 

He was a goddamn wonder.

He’d gone from a lanky, private-schooled, what’s-a-Star-War schmuck to one of Dean’s favorite people in the world. He was hilarious, and a genius, and kind. He’d grown into his shoulders, and into a stubbly kind of an age, and into this awesome, intelligent, pancake-making man of Dean’s dreams, and into his bee obsessions and organizational neatness - and complete, total perfection. 

(Dean needs him, appreciates him, and (not that subtly - to his credit), loves him in a forever sort of way.)

But before Dean’s properly began to remind Cas of any of it, he’s interrupted. 

“I’m disappointing me, Dean.”

There’s resignation in his tone, and evidence in every word he says. 

“June’s over. Again. And for all the marching with painted cheeks and the megaphones? For all the parades, and the celebrations of our identities, the togetherness, the being proud of being ourselves?” Cas lets out, bitterly, and Dean realizes he knows where Cas is going with this. “And I still haven’t come out to my family.”

Dean waits, sure that Cas isn’t finished. 

“How have I not done it yet?” Cas hisses, and it almost startles him - he’s swapped the upset for angry. It’s rarer. “I’ve known since I was a teenager - and we’ll have been together for five years in three months, Dean, and I just - I cannot believe I still can’t do it.”

He sounds helpless, and Dean wants to jump in, but he needs Cas to get the words out first. 

“What’s the matter with me? Am I not brave enough, or strong enough - or am I still hanging onto the hope that they’ll suddenly become better human beings and not disown me when I tell them?” Cas scoffs. 

He’s pissed at himself. 

“Maybe I still lack, as you say, free will.”

Dean has to step in at that. “That was six years ago, and you know I wouldn’t say it now.”

“Why not?” Cas challenges. “I couldn’t tell them then, either. I clearly haven’t changed.”

“Other things, Cas.” Dean says, and grits his teeth. This isn’t supposed to be them yelling. Cas is frustrated, and Dean’s listening - he can’t be frustrated back at him for the way he expresses it. “Other things have changed.”

Cas gives him a look, but Dean holds his end of it until it crumbles. Cas changes his offense. Mellows down - probably when he sees Dean’s restraint. “This is important to me. I want to do it. Then why can’t I tell them?”

He’s asking himself, but he’s also asking the only person who knows him as well as he knows himself, yet he’s also not asking at all - simultaneously, it’s also rhetorical.

Dean licks his lips. 

“Whatever be the answer to that, Cas, first things first. This doesn’t imply you’re not proud enough.” 

Cas looks away.

“Or, for that matter, not panromantic or demisexual enough.” 

Sigh. Shuffle, shift. And then he looks back up at Dean. The tears weren’t there before. “How do you know, Dean?”

“‘Cause I know this doesn’t decide that.”

“Why not?” Cas says, quietly.

“‘Cause,” He repeats. “How queer you are isn’t measured on a scale of how soon you come out once you know.” He pauses, judges the air. “It usually isn’t measured at all, unless we’re talking about a magical thing known as the Kinsey Scale.”

He judged right. 

Cas coughs, and it’s definitely to disguise a reluctant snicker.

“And you know, even if it were measured on the weird first thing,” Dean adds, serious again. “There’d totally be a different clause, and a separate key, mind you, for the people with douchebag families.”

“They prefer conservative, I think.” Cas says, smally, after an entire minute, as if he’d actually been rerunning Dean’s speech in his head for that long.

Dean shrugs.

Cas almost smiles. He’s calmed down.

“The strange thing is that it makes no sense.” He begins, heavy, albeit less severe on himself. “I’m twenty six. We co-own this apartment, and we pay our bills. We’re completely independent.” It never stops sounding surreal. That’s for another time. “Mother calls me on third Sundays, Gabriel sends Christmas cards. Other than that, I only spend Thanksgiving lunches with them, each year more horrible than the last. I know I wouldn’t miss any of them, nor regret being written out of the will. Or have my Novak cemetery spot passed onto Michael’s oldest. Or the gardener.” 

Dean snorts at that. The Novaks are truly something else. 

“There is no reason I can’t just come out. I just -” Cas cuts into his own sentence with a sigh, one signifying that he’s finally done speaking, and he reclaims Dean’s shoulder once more.

What’s important right now, is to make him feel better. A resolution to this isn’t within grasp at the moment, and Cas sounds drained. Dean - well, he does what he does best. He segues. 

“Wait.” Cas lifts his head. “You didn’t actually say you’re not out, did you?”

Cas squints at him.

“Dude. Being out doesn’t just mean telling your family. And getting subjected to toxicity and trauma, by means of it.” Dean points out, earnest. By that logic, courtesy of a long-dead mom, and a relatively-shorter-dead dad, he’s in the closet as well. “Hell, you put your hand in my back pocket at KFC, yesterday.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. 

Dean grins, and Cas’s surprise makes it easy to do so. “You bet my publicly grabbed ass, it counts.”

Cas knows it counts. He knows everything that counts. But he indulges himself, and he indulges Dean - his bad mood slowly dissipating. “What else?” 

“You kissed me at Wendy’s last week.” Dean informs him, eyebrows raised. “Held my hand for a really long time in a Starbucks queue on Saturday. Oh, and all the gay bars count, buddy. Especially the bits where we grind on the dance floor, and then I blow you in the stall.” 

Cas opens his mouth to protest that has only happened once, but Dean meets his eyes with a pointed look. He’s got to bring it up.

“Every time I’ve ever taken you to a steak joint counts too. ‘Cause trust me, those are always dates, whether you know it or not.”

“Long drives are a date to you.” Cas deadpans. 

“Yeah, and Baby will never say you’re not out.” Dean throws back, and Cas actually makes it to a smile this time. Dean’s left feeling accomplished. (And sort of dazed, because it’s going to take a lot more than six years for him to get used to Cas being so easily beautiful, and being it right next to him.)

“You said you loved me for the first time at the Roadhouse.” Cas says.

Dean blushes. 

“And then you ran away before I could react, got really drunk and karaoke’d I’m Too Sexy on the stage, and passed out on my lap right as I tried to say it back to you.”

This is definitely not his favorite story, but it always lights Cas up, and that’s all that matters, really - so he rolls his eyes half-heartedly and Cas smiles wider.

Silence prevails for a moment.

“Look.” Dean ends up being the one to break it. Cas listens, hanging onto each word. “You’re the only one who knows why you can’t do it, okay? My best guess would be an internalized decision to avoid conflict. Maybe you call your old therapist tomorrow - like, I dunno, a cameo from Castiel, unresolved coming-out issues sorta thing. Of course, we can talk about it too. Get six cheeseburgers and twelve beers, and figure things out on your own. But it’s up to you.” Cas exhales into a little smile. “All I know is, it doesn’t matter to anyone that you haven’t told your family, if it doesn’t matter to you. 

Cas nods, a couple of times, and there’s the barest hint of tears again, but this time doesn’t make Dean want to punch God. 

It makes him want to hug Cas, so he goes for it. 

“Even if you were in the closet, Cas? I’d say the same.” Dean adds, as an afterthought, about a minute into a hug which doesn’t seem to be nearing an end. Not really. No one minds, so there’s that. “This community, this month - everything about Pride is about all of us, and if Charlie’s ever called me handmaiden, trust me she’s said this a million times. It means everyone. Includes people in the closet, every bit as those who’re out.”

Cas hums in agreement, and tilts his head against Dean’s.

“In any case,” Dean teases. “Your family’s over in Illinois, anyways. Here, where it counts? You’re as out as you can be.”

“I could kiss you in more Wendy’s.” Cas contemplates, because he’s awesome like that.

“What has Burger King ever done to you?”

Dean listens to him considering it with a thoughtful note, and mutters a “Dork.” It helps keep him grounded for he feels like he’s floating right now - ‘cause there’s something about the way Cas holds onto him. Tighter.

Like somehow, even after all this time, they managed to fall a little more in love today. 

And somehow, they’ll keep doing it forever.

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #36/129

#36: I don’t know who I am without you / #129. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.

It isn’t the first time Aaron comes to see her with flowers in hand, and it doesn’t make visiting her grave any easier, or any less painful.

Flowers became a thing early on, starting with their first date several months before. Aaron had been anxious in the hours leading up to it - distracted all day, letting his eyes linger on her a few seconds too long here and there. It’s clear something was up. He assumed Dave must have overheard him confirming with Jessica about picking Jack up from his playdate, and that he’ll pick him up from her place around nine. All day he’d dodged the carefully timed stares, a few subtle winks whenever Emily’s back was turned.

“Got a date?” Dave asked casually on their way out, much later that afternoon, keeping his eyes forward as the elevator doors closed. But he’d smiled, which suggests he definitely overheard, and has all but figured out why Aaron is leaving so uncharacteristically early.

Aaron plays dumb, scrambling for an excuse for his early departure, and manages something out about a friend being in town. Dave had simply laughed. “Emily likes flowers,” he’d said as Aaron held his briefcase with a slightly sweaty hand. “I hope you picked some out.”

The quirk of an eyebrow, and the amusement hidden in the subtle contours of Aaron’s face all but give him away, the exact reason now known. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dave.” It’s an attempt in vain.

“But you do, and before you even ask how, just know I have my ways.”

Aaron had never been happier to see elevator doors open. What he doesn’t tell Dave is that he’s had flowers figured out already, for a few days now.

He remembers that night - their first date - like it was yesterday; it’s never fully dissipated from his mind. She’d been wearing blue - cerulean, to be specific - and she blushed ever so slightly when he handed her the bouquet of Dahlias and told her she looked beautiful.

Their reservation (at a Tapas bar close to the National Mall) had mysteriously gotten deleted, leaving them without a table only after they arrived at the restaurant. Emily had laughed despite Aaron’s visible frustration, taking the whole thing in stride as she tucked her hand in his arm. Instead, they ended up walking around the Monuments and eating street tacos from a food truck wrapped in heavy coats. Despite the cold, it was light, fun, and as he dropped her off in front of her building, he’d kissed her - brief, but full, his lips on hers a promise of a second date sooner rather than later.

There was indeed a second date; this one to an antique bookstore in Alexandria followed by coffee on a chilly Sunday morning. The threat of snow later that afternoon hadn’t deterred them. Aaron brings her flowers again - lilies - and she’d held them to her nose for the briefest of seconds as the blush rose to her cheeks once more. The second date was three weeks after the first, thanks to a barrage of cases that seemed to multiply, one right after the other, at a relentless rate with little time for anything else, let alone any semblance of a personal life.  And yet, they picked up right where they left off, the same easy banter and familiarity that comes with years of knowing someone as well as they do. He kisses her again, this time bringing a hand to her hair and another around her back, pulling her in close. It’s not even a question if there will be a third date when they pull away, breathless.

Their third date was Valentine’s Day, and she’d come to his place for the first time in over a year, since the days after Foyet threatened to rip his family apart. Aaron bought roses - two dozen red ones - as cliché as it was, handing them to her when she’d arrived. She’d beamed as she shook the light dusting of snowflakes off her shoulders, apologizing for her lateness, murmuring that the flowers were beautiful. He’d planned on making her dinner but instead he’d taken her to bed, leaving their clothes scattered across the living room floor. Emily was beautiful beneath him; her long legs wrapped around his waist as he’d learned her, taking his time finding all the places that made her moan. Her fingers tangled in his hair when he’d kissed his way down the flat planes of her stomach and between her legs, her hands gripped his shoulders as he thrusted into her, she’d lowered herself down to press her chest against his, his arms wrapped around her as she rode him to completion with his own finish coming in the seconds after her own.

Aaron also ruined their dinner during their preoccupation - overcooked the steak and burnt the potatoes to a blackened crisp, rendering it all inedible. With a sheet wrapped around her chest, Emily had reached for her phone and ordered pizza, which they ate in bed straight out of the box. “The best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” she’d whispered in his ear much later, her lips smoothing down his jaw as she pushed him onto his back, a devious grin on her face. Hours later, he repeated her words right back to her, pressing kisses to her lips.

It all fell apart shortly after that.

Date number four was cruelly ripped right out of their hands as Emily slipped away, literally and figuratively, the threat of Ian Doyle becoming a reality. She’d withdrawn, becoming distant and even secretive, slipping into briefings late and sneaking clandestine glances at her phone throughout the day. Aaron had been oblivious to the truth (she hid that from all of them), but he knew something was direly wrong.

Two weeks after she cancelled their fourth date with a heaviness in her voice that culminated over the last few weeks, he heard the name Lauren Reynolds for the first time. And about ten days after that, he signed the paperwork that essentially rendered Emily Prentiss dead.

So now, Aaron always brings her flowers. It feels wrong not to, because he always has. This time he brings Irises; Emily likes those. She told him that once, back when he hung on every word she said, his brain absorbing every last detail of her to commit to memory. Now those memories come back and haunt him like a curse. The car door slams but he doesn’t hear it, and he adjusts the hood of his jacket and tucks his keys into his pocket. He keeps his head down, grateful for the soft rain that falls in the summer wind like a whisper as he maneuvers through the gate, stepping over the neat landscaping. Every step he takes brings him closer to her yet she’s never been further away from him, and he finally releases the breath he’s been holding when he sits down next to her headstone.

“Hi,” Aaron says softly, fumbling with the stems in his hands as he sets them down beside the ones he’d brought the other day, brushing his fingers over the cold marble headstone. “I miss you, you know. I’m sorry it’s been a few days. It was a hell of a week.” Being here is a familiar ritual, one that brings him an unexplainable bit of comfort and yet a profound sense of grief. It’s been four months since they buried an empty casket into the ground as she convalesced in the hospital. Four months since he explained to Jack with as much patience as he could muster that Emily had to go away for awhile, possibly forever, and calmly answered his son’s questions even as his own heart was shattering into pieces.

Aaron supposes it feels mildly silly, talking to someone who isn’t even there, spiritually or whatever, because what most don’t know is she’s not even dead.

She may as well be. Those were her words, not his. It’s what she said in the days after Boston, still too weak to travel but awake and fully cognizant, the impending reality looming in the distance. Aaron had sat at her side, as close as he could get without physically climbing into the bed with her, his hand a fixture in hers for the better part of the two weeks she’d spent there.

“These nurses are like drill sergeants,” Emily had groaned one afternoon after she’d taken a few laps around the floor, pushing a walker with Aaron hovering at her side, a protective hand on her back. It took nearly all of her energy; her eyelids had fluttered within minutes of returning to her bed.

“They’re supposed to help you get better, you know.” And while he can’t help but feel proud of her for how far she’s come, her returning strength is a reminder that soon enough she’ll vanish from their lives, unceremoniously, as if she never existed at all.

Her grave is the only place he feels close to her, as if she, wherever she is, might be there in some way too. It’s where Aaron talks to her, tells her the mundane things about life - the life that has seemingly paused since she left- anecdotes about Jack’s soccer team, Dave’s new car, every now and then he’ll mention a case. Sometimes it’s a haze of confusion, asking the questions he most likely will never get answers to, his voice breaking at the most simple, yet complicated of them all. Why? How?

Other days, it’s grief that courses through his veins and clouds his heart, like a vice grip around his windpipe that makes every intake of breath more painful than the last. They all feel her absence; a numbness has enveloped them all in the last couple of weeks especially. But he bears the pain of knowing the truth and being responsible for the secret they’ve held to keep her safe. Today is one of those days.

“I wish I could be angry with you,” he says, never taking his eyes off the headstone. “For what you put us through.” He’s tried that. Anger never lasts long, because Aaron sees her face in his mind, full of poorly concealed fear as he and JJ had passed over the dossier of new identities into her hands, signifying the beginning of the end.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you,” Aaron chokes through the mounting thickness in his throat. “It’s not the same without you. Nothing is.” His face is wet, and it’s not because of the rain. Most of his visits end this way, and he takes the long way back home to pull himself together. “We miss you. I miss you.”

It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to conceal the sobs that are coming like the stormcloud in the distance, and he buries his face in his hands to cry because there’s nothing left he can do. “I don’t know who I am without you, Emily.”

There’s a rustling in the trees behind him sometime later. If he closes his eyes he can almost hear her footsteps behind him, sure and steady. Aaron can’t bring himself to turn around because she won’t be there - she’s already gone.

“I love you,” he whispers, knowing he should have said it a long time ago.

[childishfluff]

Angel Milk and Bargaining Naps- [Little!Ranboo/CG!Tubbo CGLRE Oneshot]

Summary:

Ranboo flies all the way to Britain to meet one of his friends, Tubbo. The trip is tiring, but he jumps straight into a stream alongside his friend. He's tired and needs a nap, and a joke from the stream causes him to slip. Immediately following the stream, he falls into littlespace and just wants to play, despite his sleepiness. Luckily, Tubbo is understanding and prepared, with a sippy cup of angel milk and a cookie for the little. And lots of determination that goes towards getting the boy to rest, even if it's only for a bit. Some warm angel milk and a few convincing deals should do the trick. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age regression, dni if you're nsfw/abdl/ageplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I didn't know if Ranboo lived with his mom or dad or whatever so I just assumed and made his parent figure (who literally doesn't have any lines she's just there) his mom. Anyways, this is just a soft fic that explores the friendship dynamic between Tubbo and Ranboo, because I really like it. This is about 3500-ish words, which is longer then some of my other oneshots, which is cool! I really hope that I wrote Ranboo well, I haven't seen much of anything for little!Ranboo yet and wanted to try it, y'know? I don't think there's any trigger warnings that I need to put, but lmk if there is something I missed. Enjoy the fic!

--

"Ranboo?"

"Tubbo!"

Tubbo ran up to the boy in the black and white mask, the other youtuber decked out in a simple outfit. The only thing signifying the presence of his online persona was the mask. Besides that little detail, just one thing so that Tubbo could spot him easily, he looked like any other person.

"You're taller then I thought you'd be," Tubbo muttered, looking him up and down as he came to stand in front of him. Ranboo stood in front of a car, his mother climbing out of the driver's side and going to the back.

"And you're shorter." Ranboo replied, flinching just a bit at the slam of the car door. He was going to be staying with Tubbo for a week, this was his first meet up. And face reveal. Even now, with his mask on, Tubbo had still seen more of his face then anyone else on the internet.

"Oh, how kind of you," Tubbo joked, rolling his eyes a bit and taking

"Shut up and hug me, you idiot," Ranboo said, opening his arms. "I flew in from America, I get hug." he repeated, almost sounding whiny.

Tubbo laughed, jumping into the embrace and melting into the hug. Ranboo gives good hugs, he decided mentally, not pulling away from the affection for a few long seconds. "It's so nice to finally meet you, This week is gonna be great." Tubbo said, pulling away and going to the back of the car, where Ranboo's mom was unloading luggage.

It was gonna be great, for sure.

--

Ranboo sat just off camera, his mask now off but sitting on his lap, as Tubbo rambled to the chat.  "He's gonna be here for a whole week! Isn't that cool?"

Both boys had been pretty excited for the meet up, they had a lot planned. Tommy was supposed to come by for two days, the second one being a big event with Wilbur and Niki too, all later in the week. This was Ranboo's big trip to meet some of the people he made content with regularly, and he was pretty excited.  

"Put on your mask and shit on and come here, Ranboob." Everyone in chat was asking to see Ranboo. This whole trip was kept secret from the internet and anyone not involved in it, it was a huge surprise to everyone.

"I'm not going to if you're gonna be mean," he said defiantly, crossing his arms and giving him a look. He did not appreciate the 'Ranboob' nickname, not at all.

"I'm not being mean!" Tubbo screeched, basically pouting at him. "Come onnnn." he whined.

The childish traits they were displaying were somewhat just played up for the camera, but they were both littles. They knew about one another, but they had managed to avoid talking about it so far, moving from bring Ranboo's stuff inside, straight into a stream.

"Okay, okay, hold on," Ranboo took a few moments to pull on his mask and sunglasses, before standing up. "Move my chair for me, I wanna make a dramatic entrance." he ordered.

"I'm not your maid," Tubbo declined.

"Dramatic entrance or I'm not moving."

"Fine."

Once Tubbo had moved his chair, Ranboo made his silly enterance, strutting over and taking his seat next to Tubbo. "Hello, chat. You can see me, that's different," he laughed a bit. "I don't usually use a facecam."

"Well, get used to it. We're gonna be doing lots of stuff with cameras this week."

They continued talking about some plans they had, videos to make, streams to do. They hopped on the Minecraft and Discord servers, jumping between voice chats and talking to everyone. Eventually, though, Ranboo started to get tired and whiny. He literally took a whole trip from America, the car ride from the airport, and then jumped right into a stream. He was sleepy, goddammit.

Maybe it was being sleepy, and also excited, but he seemed to be falling into littlespace unknowingly. Acting childish, even just for a joke, usually led to feeling childish.

"Tubboooo," He held out his words, interrupting whatever Tubbo was doing on the SMP. He leaned close to him as he spoke.

"Ranbooooo," his friend mimicked him in a teasing voice, not looking away from the screen as he made his avatar run around the minecraft server.

"End stream, nap." he requested, causing the other boy to laugh. "Please?" he added.

"You can nap, my bed's over there," Tubbo told him, pointing off camera.  "But I'm not done."

Ranboo pouted under his mask. "You're mean, y'know." he claimed, earning a chuckle from Tubbo.

There was a lot of messages in the chat claiming that they were fighting like children, with all their whining and pouting. Neither of them took it in a mean way though, that's what they were going for. It was funny.

"Sure I am." Tubbo said, looking to him for a moment. He quickly paused to say, "We'll end the stream soon, promise. You can sleep after that." He spoke in a much softer voice then before, signifying that he wasn't joking or anything. He was catching on to Ranboo's little behaviors, past the bit.

Ranboo hummed, before looking back to the screen. Tubbo returned to whatever he was doing, and the chat was 'aww'-ing. Ranboo tried to focus on not completely slipping on stream, making sure that any childlike behaviors he exhibited could be passed off as a joke.

He didn't fidget with any sort of toy, or hold a stuffed animal, he just swung his feet under the table, which the viewers couldn't see. Tubbo noticed it, though.

Eventually, Tubbo said goodbye to chat, and ended the stream. Once he logged off of the minecraft server and turned off his computer, he turned his seat to look at Ranboo. He smiled softly, "Hi, buddy."

He re-greeted him, as if talking to a new person. He wasn't, but it was a way to show that he was welcoming Little Ranboo in a kind way. "Hello, Tubbo." he giggled at the nickname, smiling wide.

"How little are you right now?"

Ranboo thought for a moment, not replying at first. He was old enough to be talking, so far, not having many issues pronouncing things. He wasn't really that small, he regressed to this age by himself regularly. It was fun, and he could play, while still being just old enough to take care of himself.

"I'm five." he decided aloud, "For now."

"But that might change?" Tubbo asked in a questioning, curious tone. Unlike Ranboo, he was just pretending and acting childish on stream, now fading in to a very caregivery demeanor. His friend was obviously small, and he was there to help.

"I dunno."

"Hmm," Tubbo noted that that probably meant he would be slipping younger, even if Ranboo didn't want to admit that. Most of the time, if Ranboo had someone to watch him that he trusted, usually Tubbo or Tommy, he'd slip a lot younger. Because he didn't need to take care of himself, he didn't need to worry about staying big enough to care for himself.

"You said you were sleepy, right? You needed a nap."

"No, no, no," Ranboo denied, shaking his head. "Not sleepy anymore." he claimed, contradicting his previous request. He was sleepy, very much so, but now he wanted to play. Now that he didn't have any viewers to worry about, he just wanted to have fun.

"Oh, really?" Tubbo said, standing up from his seat and stretching.

"Mhm," Ranboo hummed, distracted with the task of stealing Tubbo's much more comfortable chair the moment he moved. He also got distracted with spinning around almost right away. Tubbo didn't stop him, a little amused with how easy it was to entertain him.

"You're not sleepy anymore, not at all?" Tubbo sounded disbelieving.

"Nope."

"Alright. Where'd you put your littlegear? Do you have a sippy cup?" Tubbo asked.

"Black bag," Ranboo replied, not even bother to stop the chair, spinning around and around. He giggled at the motion, stopping when he started to get dizzy. While he was distracted, Tubbo had managed to locate the little bag, pull out a sippy cup, and leave the room.

"Tubs?" he pouted, not liking being left alone. "Tubboooo," he whined, getting up from the seat. "Whoa!" he almost tripped and tumbled, realizing he was still dizzy, and therefore, more clumsy. Once he was standing more stably, he heard Tubbo.

"I'm in the kitchen, buddy!" he heard his friend's voice call out, immediately following it. He ran out of the room, making his way to the

He suddenly got shy when he passed his mom and Tubbo's at the table, talking to each other. He slowed down, walking straighter and trying to act 'big'. "They know, you're okay," Tubbo assured, giving him a soft look from his spot by the microwave.

Ranboo still didn't face the adults, going quiet as he went over to Tubbo, now walking instead of running clumsily. He knew that his mom was always supportive, but he still wasn't the most comfortable regressing around her, or adults in general. The only real exceptions to this was his youtube friends who were older then him, because he didn't exactly see them as 'adults'.

It wasn't like any of them were mature.

The two women seemed to notice his discomfort, simply continuing to talk to one another and not bothering him. If they didn't bring any attention to his childlike behavior, or pretend they didn't notice it, then maybe Ranboo wouldn't mind being childish around them. They didn't want to interrupt or make him feel invalid while he was having fun.

"What're you doin'? You left me." he pouted, suddenly realizing that he had yet to take off his mask and sunglasses when his jutted-out lip was met with fabric. He had spoke quietly, so only Tubbo could hear how little his voice was.

He pulled them off, stuffing them into his pocket and rubbing at his eyes. "I'm making you angel milk, I'm sure you'll like it." Tubbo replied, opening the microwave before it went off and pulling the sippy cup out. Ranboo immediately went to reach for it, curious about the new drink he hadn't tried, but Tubbo pushed his hands away.

He didn't usually drink milk, feeling like it was something for babies, not bigger boys like him. But he didn't reject the babying, Tubbo treating him like he was a little younger then he had claimed to be. He really didn't mind it.

"It's to hot for you, bud. Let's just wait a bit, yeah?"

"Oh." Ranboo seemed a little confused, and embarrassed. He should've known that it'd be to hot, it was just heated up. Simple forgetfulness like this made him feel so kiddish, and not in the good way. This was forgotten when Tubbo ruffled his hair, making him giggle a little louder then he would've liked.

"Do you wanna make a snack while we wait?" Tubbo tightened the lid of the cup onto it, before shaking the bottle and setting it on the counter for the time being.

"Please?" Ranboo confirmed, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt as he asked.

"Yeah, let's see what we have." Tubbo said, opening up cupboards and looking into the fridge, Ranboo simply following him around. Ranboo stopped him from closing a cupboard right before he did by pulling on his shirt, pointing to cookies that sat up in it. Tubbo chuckled, "I should've known you would've asked for cookies. You can have one, but only after eating something else, okay?"

Tubbo agreed to these rules, happy he was getting any at all. He watched Tubbo pull out a plastic plate for him, setting the promised cookie on the side of it. "We have fruit? Do you like grapes?"

Ranboo eagerly nodded, "The green ones?"

"Yep," Tubbo smiled, pulling them out. The next few minutes consisted of Tubbo washing the fruit, putting it on the plate, grabbing the milk, and leading them back to his bedroom.

"Can I sit in your chair, p'ease?" Ranboo asked politely as he shut the door behind them, Tubbo's hands to full to do so.

"Go ahead," Tubbo confirmed. "Good job on asking nicely," he added, earning a smile from the boy. Ranboo immediately ran over to the chair, sitting in it and spinning again.

"Be careful, sweetie. I heard you almost fall because you were dizzy," Tubbo reminded. Ranboo's face flushed as Tubbo continued, "I know you're a bit clumsy when you're small, I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Ranboo didn't know Tubbo could hear that. He wasn't that clumsy, he thought. The stupid chair just made him dizzy.

Tubbo went over and sat in the chair Ranboo was originally in, not commenting on his blushing. "Have you ever tried Angel Milk before?" Tubbo questioned, changing the subject to avoid embarrassing him more, shaking the bottle again once setting the plate of snacks on the desk in front of the computer.

"Nuh-uh," Ranboo shook his head. "Is it yummy?"

"Mhm, it's warm milk with sugar and vanilla and cinnamon in it. It's really yummy," Tubbo confirmed. He tried feeling the outside of the cup, not being able to tell exactly how hot it was. He tipped it over once putting the tip against his finger, letting out just enough of the milk to know the temperature. "I think this has cooled off enough for you, buddy. Here."

Ranboo took the royal blue sippy cup in both hands. The cup part was clear, so you could see the liquid inside, and the lid was his favorite color. The cup was a little smaller then a normal cup, but it was shaped like one, so if there ever came a time where he had to hide that he was using a sippy cup, he could just take the lid off and probably get away with it.

He sipped it, liking the feeling of the warm, but not too hot liquid on his tongue. He drank a bit of it before saying anything. "Yummy," he decided, in just one word, speaking with a soft smile. He leaned back into the chair, continuing to drink it. He seemed calmer, softer, even.

"I'm glad you like it, little one. Maybe don't drink it all before you even start eating, though."

"Oh," Ranboo said, pulling the cup away from his mouth. "Mkay." he agreed, wiping at his lips with his hand.

"You eat while I get some more of your little stuff out, okay?"

"mhm." Ranboo only hummed, swinging his feet under him like he had done earlier. After a minute or so of eating and looking around the room mindlessly, he felt something get set on his head. He looked up, causing the item to fall. The stuffed toy fell into his lap as Tubbo came around the chair, sitting down, holding a few things. He set the stuff in his lap.

"Boo!" he giggled, holding the toy bear close to his chest. 'Boo the Bear' was his favorite stuffed animal, and it was the only on he brought with him, and he was glad he did. To some extent, he knew he'd slip during this trip at some point, that's why he brought all the little stuff. He just didn't expect it to be so quickly.

"I found him hiding in your bag," Tubbo joked, picking up something from his lap. Pajamas.

"No!" Ranboo immediately said, without Tubbo getting the chance to say anything. "Don' need a nap." he huffed.

"I think you do. Just for a bit, so you have more energy to play later!" Tubbo spoke in a mock-excited tone, trying to paint the idea of napping in a more positive light for the little.

Spoiler alert, it didn't work well.

"Noooo," Ranboo whined.

"Doesn't cuddling up with Boo in comfy pajamas sound nice, sweetie?" He tried again.

Ranboo thought for a moment, shrugging. He casted his eyes downward, taking another drink from his cup, suddenly realizing how sleepy the warm liquid made him. Of course, he didn't catch onto the fact that Tubbo did that on purpose, but he didn't really need to know that.

"I'll nap with you, if you want. I promise, I won't have any fun without you."

Ranboo looked up, "Just for a bit?" he asked, in his now babyish voice. Tubbo was doing a fairly good job of convincing him.

"I'll wake you up in an hour or two, promise." Tubbo confirmed.

Ranboo thought again, glancing at the cookie on his plate before coming up with another question. "Can I have more cookies when I wake up? And more milk?"

Tubbo was slightly amused by the fact that he was treating this like some soft of business deal, but he was gonna take what he could get. "Sure thing."

"Okay," Ranboo agreed, hesitancy seemingly gone. "You have to cuddle with me and Boo, though! An- and play with me when I wake up!"

"Deal." Tubbo chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Now, let's finish your food and then get ready for your nap."

Ranboo was able to finish his grapes and his cookie in just a few minutes, sipping the last of his milk before setting it on the desk with the plate. "All gone," he said, yawning a bit. He rubbed a his eyes, leaning back into the seat. He was a lot sleepier then he thought he was.

"Yep, good job. Now, what do we do next?" Tubbo asked.

Ranboo sat up a bit, tilting his head, "Comfy clothes?" he offered, earning and approving hum from Tubbo.

"Are you big enough to do this yourself?" Tubbo handed him a stack of clothes, Ranboo nodding as he took it. Yeah, he was a little younger then five, but he could pull himself a little older to get dressed.

He ran off to the bathroom, leaving Tubbo with the important job of watching Boo. While he was gone, Tubbo moved around the pillows and blankets on his bed so that he'd be more comfortable. Ranboo came back, standing at the door shyly, clad in pajama pants and a matching slight-oversized soft cotton shirt.

"Look at how cute you look! You're so adorable." Tubbo cheered immediately, once picking up on his nervousness.

He was complimenting the boy because he seemed to be nervous about wearing more 'little' clothes around him, because until now, he was wearing 'big kid' clothes and just feeling small. Now, he looked it too. The pattern on the clothes was a bunch of little gold crowns, on a black backdrop.

"T'ank you," Ranboo shut the door behind him again, coming over to the bed and climbing onto it. He took Boo from Tubbo when he offered him the toy, coming up by the pillows and trying to position himself. As he did that, Tubbo shut off the light, glad it was the middle of the day so he didn't have to worry about any 'scared of the dark' issues. "Tubs?"

"Hmm?" The mentally-older boy replied, grabbing one last thing from the bedside table and climbing into bed beside Ranboo, facing him. Ranboo was curled up, stuffed bear cuddled to his chest, content with Tubbo just being close to him. They weren't cuddling, but he was willing to settle with just knowing that he was right there.

"m' feelin' smaller," he admitted after a moment, shy about the confession, yawning again as he sunk into the comfort on the soft pillows.

"Yeah?" Tubbo asked, looking at him softly. "How small?"

"lots an' lots."

"That's so small!" Tubbo, again, was amused by his childish actions. "Do you need a pacifier, sweetie?"

Ranboo, if any bigger, would've protested against the idea of using a pacifier and being called a baby, but he just nodded a bit. His demeanor was softer, and shyier. And it was easy to tell that he had trouble talking now.

"Good thing I already pulled one out for you," Tubbo laughed, revealing the last item he grabbed. A white pacifier, simple and plain, stuffed into his bag just in case he needed it. Tubbo lifted it to Ranboo's lips, the little taking it in his mouth and suckling on it a bit before letting his eyes drift shut.

Later on, he'd be embarrassed about using a pacifier in front of Tubbo, but right now, he was to small and sleepy to even care. The rest of the day, along with the rest of the meet up, would be great. Ranboo would wake up big, and they'd record a video with Tommy and then they'd watch movies. It'd all be great.

But right now, neither of them were worried about the rest of the day, because Ranboo was small and sleepy. Before falling asleep, he mumbled his last words before his nap.

"Ni' ni', Tubs." Tubbo has to stop himself from cooing at his adorable sleepy mumbling. Tubbo was glad that this was something they could support each other with, that this was something Ranboo trusted him with. He was so lucky. He replied, in the simple soft tone that he'd been using all day,

"Night, buddy."

--

A/N: okay so they meet up for a week, and I also mentioned tommy, wilbur, and niki, so there's room for me to write another oneshot in this universe. So if that's something you want, then go ahead and request in the comments! I imagine that tubbo and tommy are also littles, while wilbur and niki are cgs. 

You can also request in-the-smp fics or just another oneshot for anyone! I might not write it, but please, still request, because the worst that can happen is that I say no.

also someone recently tried to request a fic involving an abusive cg and I just wanna say, I will never write anything like that, so don't request it. The farthest I will go is a caregiver yelling a bit, *NOTHING MORE*.

anyways, please leave feedback in the replies/reblogs/my ask box, on what you thought about this oneshot. Your favorite scene, cutest moments, things that you'd like to see within this universe. Whatever you want, feedback helps! Thanks for reading!

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Ruki Route ー Chapter 3

ー The scene starts in the bushes around Saint Nore Park

Ruki: Haah...Oi, Yui. Are you alright?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Ruki: For now, I doubt they’ll easily be able to track us down right here.

Yui: Ruki-kun...I’m sorry.

Ruki: Why do you apologize?

Yui: Because all of this happened because I injured myself...

( He only just told me to stay on guard, so I’m sure he’s upset, huh...? )

I’m so sorry.

Ruki: ...Haah.

No need to apologize.

Show me your arm.

Yui: Eh? Sure...

*Rustle rustle*

Ruki: ...It’s bleeding.

Yui: Yeah...But it’s just a scratch. I’m sure the bleeding will stop soon.

So it’s fine.

Ruki: It isn’t, is it?

I’ll stop the bleeding for now. ...Don’t move, okay?

Nn...

Yui: ...!?

( He’s licking the wound... )

Ruki: Did I not just tell you to keep still? ...I guess this much won’t do.

Yui: Wait, Ruki-kun!

Ruki: Oi, don’t pull your arm away. I thought I told you not to move?

Yui: B-But you suddenly started licking me...!

Ruki: It isn’t sudden. Didn’t I say I’d stop the bleeding?

Yui: ( He did, but anyone would be surprised if someone suddenly did that...! )

Ruki: ...This has to be the first time drinking your blood makes me this upset.

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: I’ll wrap some bandages around it, so keep the wound facing upwards. Tell me if it’s too tight.

Yui: O-Okay...

*Rustle rustle*

Ruki: ...This should do.

...

Yui: ( Ruki-kun went quiet. Is he upset after all...? )

Ruki: ...I’m the one who should apologize.

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: I failed as your bodyguard...Seeing as I let you get hurt, even though I was right there by your side.

Yui: B-But...That wasn’t your fault just now...

Ruki: They thought you were a Vampire because I had you ingest that drug.

I did not think my own plan would come to backfire like that...

...My bad.

Yui: Ruki-kun...

Ruki: ...

Yui: ( He’s this worried about the fact I got hurt... )

( Even though it’s really no big deal. )

( I wonder how I can brighten his mood again...? )

ー Approaching footsteps can be heard in the background

Uhm...Ruki-kuーー

Ruki: ...! Quiet!

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...!

( Somebody’s coming...! However, he didn’t have to cover my mouth... )

Female Vampire A: Say, why don’t we drop by the arcade next? I heard they’ve got lots of games like darts or puzzles!

Male Vampire A: You wouldn’t rather ride one of the attractions?

Female Vampire A: Mmh. I’d like to take it easy for a bit.

Male Vampire A: Let’s go check it out then. 

ー The couple leaves again

Ruki: ...They left?

Yui: Nn...Nn...

Ruki: ...Aah, sorry. I’ll let you go now.

*Rustle*

Yui: Haah...

Ruki: Seems like they didn’t pick up on the scent of blood...It’s good I stopped the bleeding.

Yui: ( ...Seems like Ruki-kun is still rather alert. I guess he’s worried after all... )

( Speaking of which, those people from earlier said they were headed towards the arcade, right? )

Uhm, Ruki-kun?

Ruki: ...Yes?

Yui: Why don’t we try going to the arcade they mentioned as well?

Ruki: ...You truly believe such a place would pique my interest?

Yui: Well...I figured you’d like it more than the rides.

They said you can play darts or make a puzzle.

Ruki: ...

Hmph...Seems like you actually put some thought into it.

However, I doubt it’d be good to move carelessly?

Yui: My arm stopped bleeding, so I’m fine.

We can’t just sit around here forever, so why don’t we go take a look? It’s a Carnival after all.

Ruki: ...

...You do have a point. We can’t just sit still and hold our breaths forever.

Yui: Then...!

Ruki: Yes, very well. Being inside a building might be more safe than staying outside as well.

Yui: ( Thank god...! )

Ruki: However, it’s crowded inside the park. ...Don’t stray away from my side, okay?

Yui: Yeah.

( I hope this’ll help cheer him up a little... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park’s venue

Yui: According to the map, it should be around here. Uhm...

Ruki: Oi, don’t wander around too much.

Yui: Ah, sorry.

Ruki: ...I assume it’s that building? It should be obvious if you pay some attention.

Yui: Eh? Ah, you’re right! As to be expected of Ruki-kun, you’re always keeping an eye on your surroundings!

Ruki: Your field of vision is simply too narrow. Because of that, my suffering never ends.

Yui: ( ...I’m glad. He’s slowly becoming the regular old Ruki-kun again. )

Ruki: Oi, let’s hurry inside. I’m pretty sure it’d be in our best interest not to wander around outside for too long.

ー They enter the game center

Yui: Wah...Seems like they’ve got quite the assortment of games.

This is...A card game, I suppose? There’s a chess board as well.

Ruki: Darts and puzzles, huh?

Yui: ( Which one should we try first...? )

Selection

→ I wanna try the puzzle (☾)

Yui: ( I just have to go with a puzzle here, right? )

Ruki: So, what are you going to play?

I’m not too fond of these kind of noisy places...But I’m sure you came here with a specific objective in mind?

Yui: Ah, uhm...I’d like to try the puzzles over there on the other side...

Ruki: A puzzle, huh...?

Yui: Yeah. What do you think?

Ruki: ...Very well, I’ll join along. I don’t dislike those either.

Yui: ( Hooray! )

→ I wanna try darts

Yui: ( Darts, huh...? I’ve never played that very much, so it might be a good opportunity... )

Uhm...Ruki-kun? How about a game of darts?

I want to give it a try since I’ve never played it much.

Ruki: The answer is no.

Yui: Eh?

Ruki: ...Haah; You never learn, do you?

Have you already forgotten what happened earlier? Even though you nearly became a darts board yourself.

Besides, what if you hurt yourself on one of the dart arrows?

Yui: Well...

Ruki: If you understand that, give up on playing darts. Let’s look for something else.

Yui: Yes...

Ah...Then why don’t we try a puzzle? Look, they’ve got them over there.

Ruki: A puzzle, huh...? Very well. I’ll allow that.

ー They walk towards the puzzles

Yui: ( ... )

Hm, these look quite tricky.

Ruki: You think so? I’m pretty sure this level of difficulty is the bare minimum to make it worth playing.

Yui: ( As to be expected of Ruki-kun...I feel like we’ll easily complete these with his help. )

Ah, look, Ruki-kun. Seems like you’ll appear in the rankings if you get a high score at this game.

I wonder if they’ll display our names too if we do a good job?

Ruki: Who knows.

Yui: Eh?

Ruki: It’s pointless to worry about scores or rankings. This is a battle with yourself, not with others.

Yui: Is it....? However, I’m sure you’d be happy to rank number one. See. Your name would show up over heーー

...Huh?

Ruki: What’s the matter?

Yui: The name of the current number one...

Ruki: Number one? At this puzzle?

...!

Sakamaki Reiji...?

Yui: ( Reiji-san was here as well!? Actually, he did say he has visited the Carnival before... )

Anyway...Reiji-san’s record is amazing. There’s a considerable gap with the person in second place.

Ruki: ...

...Interesting.

I don’t care about rankings, but losing against one of those Sakamaki’s leaves somewhat of a bitter taste in my mouth.

Especially as far as puzzles are concerned. I happen to be very confident in my own abilities when it comes to these.

I shall overwrite Sakamaki Reiji’s record right here, right now. With my own name, that is.

Yui: ( He suddenly became motivated...I guess he doesn’t want to lose to Reiji-san? )

Ruki: Oi, Livestock. You should give it a try first.

Yui: Eh!? Me?

Ruki: Of course? I’ll prepare myself in the meantime.

Yui: ( You need to prepare yourself to solve a puzzle!? )

Ruki: Come on, hurry up. Don’t make your Master wait. 

Yui: Y-Yes...Okay then. I’ll give it a try.

( I’m not very confident but...Guess I’ll just have to give it my best shot! )

Explanation: Complete the puzzle within the time limit by shuffling the different pieces around.

You can play this game in EASY, NORMAL or HARD mode.

Ruki: ...Hooh.

Yui: ( I did it! Seems like I solved it! )

Ruki: Seems like you’re a little capable as well. I need to reconsider my opinion on you.

While you didn’t come close to the Sakamaki eldest son’s score, you did your best. This isn’t a bad result at all.

Yui: ( Fufu, he praised me! )

Ruki: However...If you improve just a little more, I’m sure you’ll be able to up your score?

Ruki: For example, this one. This one should go here instead of over there.

Yui: Eh!? Ah...

Ruki: Did you not realize your mistake? ...Seems like you’re surprisingly careless in that regard.

Yui: Uu...I ended up rushing because of the time limit.

Ruki: Come on, give me the remaining pieces as well. This one goes in the corner over here.

Yui: You’re right...

( Ruki-kun really is amazing... )

Ruki: Well then. Shall I take over?

I’ll surpass both your and Sakamaki Reiji’s record in no time.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ...Hmph...Child’s play.

Yui: A-Amazing! You beat Reiji-san’s score!

Ruki: Of course. I can’t let myself lose to those guys after all.

Yui: ( Fufu...Ruki-kun seems happy. )

( I’m glad his mood brightened! )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts back to Saint Nore Park’s venue

Yui: That was fun, huh?

Ruki: Well, it wasn’t a bad time...If you had fun, that’s what matters most.

By the way, does your arm not hurt? You moved quite a bit while getting caught up in the puzzle game, didn’t you?

Yui: Yeah, it completely stopped bleeding too and doesn’t hurt either. I’m fine.

Ruki: Really? Show it to me.

*Rustle*

Ruki: ...The bleeding has indeed stopped. I hope it doesn’t leave any scars though.

Yui: ...

Ruki: ...What are you making that weird expression for?

Yui: Uhm...

Ruki: If you’ve got something on your mind, spit it out.

Yui: Well...You usually don’t really care about marks left behind by sucking my blood.

But you seem to be rather worried about this one in particular...

Ruki: ...Of course. Those are two different things.

Between scars left behind by others and those who I have engraved in your body myself.

Bite marks are like a sign of possession. However...The one on this arm doesn’t signify anything.

Even by looking at it like this...It only reminds me of the fact I let you get hurt.

Yui: Ruki-kun...

ー A flyer flies their way

*Flip*

Yui: ...Huh? A piece of paper came flying our way...

Ruki: One of the clowns is handing them out over there. I assume the wind blew it this way.

*Flip*

Ruki: It seems to be some sort of announcement...

‘Welcome to Top of Croquembouche’ (1)...?

Yui: ( Top of Croquembouche...? )

ー Somebody runs up to them

Park staff member: Excuse me! Did a flyer happen to fly this way?

Ruki: You’re referring to this?

Park staff member: Aah, exactly! The wind blew it away...Ah, but I suppose you can keep it!

Yui: Uhm, what exactly is ‘Top of Croquembouche’?

Park staff member: It’s the sky terrace you can see over there!

As you can read on the flyer, they offer various services, so please drop by if you get the chance to!

ー The staff member leaves

Ruki: ...

...Let’s go, Yui.

Yui: Eh? Where are we going...?

ー Ruki walks away

Yui: Ah! Ruki-kun, wait!

ー She runs after him

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Croquembouche is a traditional French dessert usually served at parties and celebrations. It’s made out of several choux creams which are all stacked into the shape of a tower.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 2

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 4]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/AYATO]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ SUBARU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #3 [W/ KOU]

[willwedie-justalittle]

Teen wolf and sounds

Ever since I started watching tv, I noticed that I would be more likely to recognise songs and voices instead of faces. That lead to a game in my household where I would try to remember which characters had the same voices, since the shows I watched were mostly American and needed dubbing. This means that most of the time, a single French guy would be the voice of a lot of different characters. I also spent a lot of time just singing the theme songs or trying to recognise which song was being used in a scene. And when I started TW, I watched it in English. That meant that I no longer needed to listen to the voices to see if they reminded me of another character, I could just concentrate on the sounds the makers of the show decided to use.

When making a cinematographic piece, there are a lot of things to take into consideration. Not only does the cast have to be good, they also have to make sure the visual and sounds serve a purpose. A dialog can be perfectly delivered by the actors, if their surrounding aren’t made to follow along, it just becomes a pretty useless scene. And since I’ve watched a shit ton of Teen Wolf over the years, I wanted to talk in length about the sounds and noises used by the makers of the show to help move the story forward, and how much I enjoy it. I originally wanted to concentrate on the 3rd season, but I soon realised that I couldn’t limit everything to a single season. Everything that’s being said here doesn’t reflect anybody’s opinion but my own. I accept criticisms, and I also recognise that I don’t own kind of degree regarding movies and/or sounds. I’m just a 27-year old who loves cinema and music. Don’t take it too seriously. This is also a disclaimer : I’m French, so there might be some mistakes along the way, don’t hesitate to tell me and I’ll correct them.

This goes without saying, but SPOILERS.

Here’s how I organised this :

I : Introduction to sounds, for the viewers and the characters

II : Wolves and vilain, how they communicate?

III : What if we just talk?

IV : The new world within the new world

________________________________________________________________

I : Introduction to sounds, for the viewers and the characters

Where it all began

For this story to exist, there is one thing that can’t be taken away : a police scanner. We overhear that a body has been discovered in the forest during the night at the end of August/early September. Stiles, the Sheriff’s son intercept the message on his police scanner and decides to drag Scott, his best friend, deep into the woods to go and look for the body. It is made clear to the audience that listening devices are going to be important, so much so that one of the main character has one installed in his car.

After the search, and an altercation with the Sheriff’s department, Scott gets bitten. In the scene, we see him turning around because of the noises the wolf behind him is making. The scene is dark, and we hear more that we see the wolf attacking him. We hear his feral snarls, and Scott’s screams. And here starts what becomes a very TW characteristic : the presence of a wolf is mostly known because of their sounds. Whether it’s the growling, the running, or the noises that come along the reveal of their shifted form with the glistening of their eyes. It’s a very distinct sound, one that will be kept until the end of the show to signal to the audience of the changing into a wolf of one of the character, no matter their rank.

The police scanner has then been used multiple times, up until the end of the 5th season, when Stiles and Scott hear that a body had been found in the woods, again, the story going full circle when Stiles decided to leave Beacon Hills to start studying in the FBI’s training program. Of course, it wouldn’t be the last time we see Stiles, but it was pretty heart-warming to see that after they passed the torch to Liam and Mason, their story as teenagers was coming to an end.

As my mum would say : should you listen to your music so loudly?

I thought it was interesting how music was used in the series. Not the background musics, sadly I didn’t have the time to go too deep with the interpretation of why a certain song was being used in a specific scene, but rather, how music is being used in the series in regards to the character’s actions, and the sense of false security that comes along with it.

First, let’s talk about Kira. In her first scene interacting with the pack, she overhears a conversation between them; using it to approach them. Sounds here serve as an introduction to the pack for her, since she’s able to become part of it afterwards. The other interesting part is that through noises and sounds, she is able to get a few glimpses into Scott’s world without fully understanding it.

She’s actually the first character that made me realise the importance of music as a tool. In season 3, she comes close to death when William Barrow comes to the school and is ordered to kill her. She has no idea that a serial killer roams around the school and goes to the library after her classes end. When Stiles pulls the emergency alarm; a universal sounds that signifies danger when heard, to evacuate the school, she is unable to hear it due to the music in her headphones being so loud. When Coach finds her and makes her leave, Barrow is shown hiding behind the shelves next to her. If music seems to be a way for her to escape, it it used to trick her into a state of false security.

Then, it Liam’s turn. In s4, this newcomer is bitten by Scott in order to save his life. And soon enough, he begins to change into a werewolf. This is being shown to the audience through music. When being driven by Kira, the music playing in the background overwhelms him, making it as if it was being played at a loud volume, instead of the nice background noise it actually was. It’s a nice flashback to when Scott was still learning to get used to his heightens senses (more on that later). Teen wolf has a habits of making things go full circles and often uses sounds to translate this for the viewers. Even without outright saying it, we are able to reflect on what it can mean. And this sense of false security comes back too. Kira is here pretending to drive him to a party, when she is actually bringing him to the pack to help him control the shift.

Last, I’m going to talk about the bonfire, and how, once again, music was made to lure the wolves into a dangerous situation. In the bonfire scene, we are shown Liam and Malia getting drunk, something that we’ve been told was impossible due to their healing powers.

Scott ends up realising that the music playing for the crowd is being used to disable them to help the killer who came there to cross their names off the deadpool.

The makers of Teen wolf found a universal part of the life of teenagers, something that can help them go through difficult times and decided to use it against the characters, showing the audience that nothing is safe. They all have to figure out a way to navigate through this new life without the help of what was once a source of comfort, and so does the audience.

II. Wolves and vilains, how do they communicate ?

How the wolves use it

Not only are we, as spectator, made aware of their changing, but the wolves themselves gain something from being bitten. Their sense of sight, smell and hearing become heightened, to help them not only hunt, but protect themselves.

Scott is the first wolf we see who is learning how to control his senses. In the first season, Derek tries to teach Scott a way to control and survive the shift. It doesn’t go as easily as Derek hoped, and he has to resort to showing Scott what will happen if he doesn’t try harder. He helps him concentrate on the sounds of hunters approaching them one night, and makes him watch another wolf get killed. From this moment on, Scott is not only able to take this training more seriously, but also use his listening ability to protect himself.

Unfortunately, the hunters are aware of this characteristic and found a way to deprave them from it : they fabricated a device that emits a sound only wolves are able to hear and it was originally used to distract them and lead them to a trap. But as the seasons go by, Chris Argent (whose family is known for hunting werewolves) becomes an ally and helps regroup Boyd and Cora to the school using those emitters. The torture device becomes helping as the seasons progress, along with the relationship between the characters. The noises then become a tool.

Over the following seasons, Scott masters this ability, and is shown using it in a lot of different situations. It helps him when he needs to listen in to conversations in relations with a villain he’s chasing, or when it helps him get closer to Allison on her first day. Funny enough, it is also used to try to befriend Kira when she first arrives after he heard her talking to her father about her lack of friends.

Alphas and packs

Since the beginning of the show, it was showed that wolves can communicate differently. To signal their position, they can howl and while it might not mean anything to humans, other wolves/animals are able to understand it. It is also used to bring someone back from their headspace. Scott first uses it in the first season to bring the alpha to the school. Later, in season 3, when he and Lydia enter Stile’s mind, he howls on Lydia’s advice to help Stiles overcome the Nogistune’s power in his mind. Stiles being part of Scott’s pack is able to hear it and regains control of his mind despite being human. Over the course of the show, we see wolves of Scott packs using it with each other, but they’re not the only one.

In the first half on the 3rd season, we are introduced to the Alpha Deucalion. Leader of the pack Scott fights against, he uses his voice to force terror and submission to those around him. He shatters his glasses when he proclaims himself Destroyer of worlds and tries later on to force Scott to kill Jennifer, making Scott fall to his knees ; his wolf unable to resist the command of an Alpha.

Sounds in this case becomes a way to rally someone to a cause or a pack. But it is a very grounding sound, used to bring either peace of mind, or terror. The viewers are then able to choose a fighter.

III. What if we just talked ?

Phones, man’s greatest invention

Scott realises quickly that something’s happening to him when he hears Allison (on the other side of the school ground) saying to the mother on the phone that she forgot to bring a pen. It helps him get on her radar since he is able to give her one, making him the first person/student Allison talks to when she arrives in BH.

As the story goes on, I’ve always thought that Allison’s relationship with sounds was a pretty important on. As a foreshadow, she gets some mysterious voicemails of a man speaking Japanese when her phone is turned off the night Stiles goes missing in s3. It is revealed that the man is telling instruction to a group of prisoners in a Japanese camp named Oak Creek during WW2. It ends up being relevant, since Kira’s mother summoned the Nogitsune while being a prisoner in this camp. Sadly, it also happens to be the place where Allison is killed.

Still with the Argents, when Kate is brought back to life, Scott says that since he doesn’t have the money to call France where Chris is staying since his daughter’s death, he thought he could text him the bad news. Stiles tells him that it might not be such a good idea to announce something like that over a text. And with money being a big part of the 4th season, the foreshadowing is once again strong in this scene.

Then we have the case of Jennifer Blake, the English teacher/antagonist in s3a. We are first introduced to her through her voice. She sent a text to all of her students, quoting the end of a book they’re going to study, and she reads the last sentence out loud coming into the classroom. And if it can be shocking to see teachers texting their students, it is later used to set up a meeting between her, Derek, Scott and Deucalion. This time, instead of the tool bringing people closer, it is used to put a plan in motion, one that involves death and pain.

Words aren’t just words, they’re tools

I talked about a lot of sounds a wolf can make, but another important thing in a series are the words themselves, the dialogues. In this story, we are faced with a lot of teenagers, and it isn’t wrong to say that at 16/17, it is hard to voice everything that’s going on in the head of a teenager. Everyone relies on a different method, and it builds their characters. Where Scott can be a little shy, Stiles is the loud one. When Lydia is making sure nobody knows how high her grades are, her boyfriend Jackson likes to brag about his successes. We have a lot of paradoxes here, and there are a lot more comparison to do.

Spoken words are loud in this series. Stiles is the sarcastic one, using it to defend himself, and it is quite interesting that Lydia is doing the same thing with her screams. But sadly, the unspoken things are louder. They can break a family apart. Scott is once again a good example. After his drunk father came home after a night out drinking, his mother told him to get out. She then went to Noah Stilinski to talk about it. Stiles overheard everything but never said a word to Scott. But so did Scott’s mother who felt like Scott would resent her if she told him that she was the one how asked his father to leave. Secret are hard to keep and live with, and they gain so much power as time goes by. There is also something to be said about misunderstandings. In that case, Melissa admits to Scott’s father in the 3rd season that he misunderstood her words, saying that she wished that he would still be a part of their son’s life.

Then, we have Stiles trying to get the biggest secret of all off his chest and tell his dad about the supernatural at the hospital. His father has a very specific answer :« I’m listening, I've been listening ». Meaning that as much as he is used to his son antics, he doesn’t want to admit that he is telling the truth. He hears what his son is saying, but he doesn’t want to listen, despite what he’s saying. Listening and hearing are two very different things. Listening means taking into account the words that are being spoken. And when the things he hears go against everything he believed his entire life, and he can’t listen to it any longer. We then find out that he had a moment when his wife died and a young woman told him to go be with his wife, and he didn’t want to obey. As much as he tells himself that he doesn’t believe, he just doesn’t want to face the fact that he missed his wife’s last moments. And it is heartbreaking to see that he needs to be himself close to dying to admit that his son was right. Stiles’ words were true, and not just the rambling of a teenager. He finally listened, after days, even years of dismissing what he refused to believe.

But some words can help bring closure. It is always a regret people have when they can’t say goodbye to their loved ones. But Allison isn’t one of them. On the contrary, her last words are probably the most important ones of the series. Just before her final battle, she made a point of telling her dad that she loved him. She needed to voice it, making sure that no matter what happened, her words would always resonate in her father’s mind. Then, she tells Scott how he’ll always be her first love, and finishes by saying that she has to tell something to her dad. When Chris hears it, he first think of his last conversation with his daughter, but it turns out that Allison needed to tell him something else : she realised how to kill the Onis, and she wants to make sure the pack and her dad are able to use her arrow heads to defeat them. Allison was a powerful young woman, fierce and strong, and as much as she values her relationship with the people around her, she also made sure to voice what was important to her.

Spoken words are on of the most effective ways to bring a story to life, but not everyone is able to speak. The show doesn’t let it stop them, and it brings us to the next subject.

Different kinds of voices

Over the course of the series, we see the pack facing all kinds of villains. Some like to talk and be heard, like Kate, or Peter, but some others use another way to be understood and deeply feared.

Let’s start with the Mute. He is a man (?) without a mouth, a professional killer who decides to kill supernatural beings from the deadpool. He uses a wrist keyboard with a computer generated voice to communicate with his victims. And the fact that he can’t talk but still has a voice coming out of him makes for a great villain, but a scary one at the same time. Because he only uses his voice to invoke fear ; with Sean Walcott to tell him that he killed his family and will kill him too, and with Peter when he tells him that Derek will be the next to die. The sounds coming from him are haunting, and likely resonate in the head of the people lucky enough to survive him.

The Anuk-Ite, who doesn’t use his own voice, found a way to inflict fear as well, with a difference: he uses other’s people voice to make his victims suffer. In the series finale, he uses the pack’s weaknesses’s voices against them to make them open their eyes and freeze them. Most of them give in and open their eyes, but Scott finds a way to go around it. If the Anuk-Ite uses voices, he will use his eyes. And it is such a great power move, because it shows us that while powerful enough to create illusion of the pack’s loved ones or fears, Scott decided to exploit the villain’s weakness against him.

Then we have the Oni, the « Japanese ninjas » from season 3. They don’t need a voice to be feared. The sound effects used to signal their presence is the only thing we need; a weird sound that comes out every time they appear, making the viewers and the character scared for what’s about to happen. And we have to recognise the talent of the people behind those sound effects, because without them, we would need words, and threats from the villains. But given that the only introduction they need is this sound, the scenes come across perfectly. And, except the few information given by Katashi, we don’t need anything else to understand that anyone standing in their way will be killed. Similar to them, are the Rider’s in the 6th season. They are some of the biggest villains the pack has faced, erasing dozens of people from existence without uttering a single word.

Finally, we have one of the most human killers of the show ; Brunski, the Head Orderly at Eichen House. He was a serial killer who killed patients because he believed he was helping them with their pain and recorded it on a tape recorder to listen to it later. In the fourth season, we found out that he murdered Lydia’s grandmother and uses this to torture her by made her and Stiles listen to the young woman's grandmother pleading for her life. And it must have been excruciating for Lydia to know that the last thing she will ever hear of her grandmother was her last moment alive. Once again, sounds and voices are being used against Lydia to torture her further, showing us that this human serial killer doesn’t need any super power to be heard and have his voice used to kill. Worst than this, his use of sounds is so disturbing. He finds happiness in listening to his victims suffer, going even further by recording it to relieve it all over again. He uses the last defences his patients have against them, even beyond their death.

Now that we saw the importance of sounds coming from humans and wolves alike, let’s see who else needs more than words to express themselves.

IV : The new world within the new world

Lydia and other Banshees

When we first meet Lydia, she is as far from the supernatural as one can be. But as time progresses, she encounters Peter who bites her and turns her into… Well something. She starts by following blindly his orders in season 2, but the real progress happens in season 3. Being held captive by Jennifer Blake, she ends up screaming, signalling every supernatural creatures around that something is happening to her. In the previous season, her screams were made to believe she was just screaming out of fear, as humans sometimes do when faced with a gigantic black form sprinting out of a store window. Blake then realises that she’s a Banshee ; the wailing woman, shading lights on so many events in the seasons : why she ended up finding a lot of the bodies in the beginning of the season, or why she would end up at certain key locations. But once again, the makers of the show decided to use sounds to express not only how she felt, but what it meant.

After she sees Peter talking to her mother about hearing, she decides to go to him to learn more about her power. He tells her that the screams don’t give her her powers. They help her calm down enough to quiet her mind. That explains how she was able to find out what was hidden in Talia Hale’s claws ; she screamed and threw them at the wall, allowing her to understand the voices inside it. That’s also how she was able to understand that the flies she was hearing in the William Barrow episodes were actually electricity, which helped the pack realise that Kira was being held at the power plant. After spending an entire day thinking there were flies around her, she finally screamed when Stiles told her to. Lydia has a special relationship with sounds, but they are sadly too overwhelming at first, thus stopping her to understand what’s going on.

During this time, a possessed version of Stiles was taking some medical tests in an MRI machine. Lydia, being so scared for his friend, spent the entire day being hyper sensitive to sounds. She was hearing lockers and doors closing at a higher rate and heard the sound of the machine loud and clear, as if she was the one inside it. She tried to put the music louder but the sounds were all she could hear, and she finally screamed. But no sound were heard in the scene. We only saw her despair and fear. She wasn’t screaming as a Banshee, but as someone who didn’t want her friend to die. The torture wasn’t over though, because Void Stiles took her in Oak Creek and there, she was able to hear every single person who died during the riot. She appears in total distress, not being able to shut her mind from all the pain that roamed around the corridor. The saddest moment however came when Allison was killed. Not being able to stop herself, or help a passed out Stiles, she just screams for the life of her best friend, and it no doubt will be added to cries of the other victims of this place.

Next comes the study in the Lake House. During the party in season 4, she realises that once the door was closed, no noise was able to come through. And as hard as it to make a scene with the proper music and sounds, it is even harder to do when there aren’t any sounds. Here we see how important the absence of noise is. And it becomes so much more relevant when we learn that her grandmother was also a Banshee who was able to predict one death because she heard rain when it wasn’t raining outside. Sadly, it didn’t help, since her girlfriend ended up dying, not able to understand where this warning was coming from. Her grandmother then decided to look for other people like her and here came Meredith. This young woman wasn’t able to understand the voices in her head. The Lake House served as some kind of experiment for her, and here, the sounds are used to show how mad they drove her. If Lydia was able to understand more of her family’s heritage and her power, Meredith bled from her ears in this room. Once again, foreshadowed when the wine bottle breaks on the ground, spreading red everywhere.

As for Meredith, she goes through some rough times during the end of the season when we discover that she was the one who created the deadpool in response of Peter’s thoughts that she was able to hear when he was in a coma after the fire. He kept going on and on about how there should be a list of supernatural people, and that professional killers should be the first one to cross names off that list. Lydia explained that for Meredith, all the time he spent in a coma, it was like she was only hearing his thoughts, like a radio. And so the deadpool was born. And once again, the study in the Lake House was a crucial part of the story since it was there that the deadpool was able to be active, and ended up being destroyed. When the truth comes out, Lydia is the only one able to understand Meredith. And it prompted the saying « Not all monsters do monstrous things ». Lydia is finally able to understand the world around her and herself, recognising that sounds and screams can be used for the greater good.

And it is also Meredith who ends up teaching a lot to Lydia, showing her that her screams can be as powerful as a bullet. From then on, Lydia is able to save Stiles from the Hunt-version of his mother in season 6 for example, help him break free of his imprisonment of the Hunt, or break Mason from The Beast’s possession in season 5. Her screams no longer come from a place of fear, but power.

But it also shows us something important : when the pack was trying to destroy the Beast of Gevaudan, Lydia is attacked by Sebastian Valet and, when she attacked him, he clawed at her throat, making her unable to use her voice, making her powerless. Over time, her screams became a defense, something that she was able to channel to protect herself. And the inability to produce them showed us once again that while it is hard to voice our thoughts and make sense of things while talking, it is even harder to deal with them without the ability to be loud or even just heard.

Eichen House & Echo House

We are first introduced to this place in season 3 when Stiles believes he is trapped there by the Nogistune. He finally decides a few episodes later to stay there to ensure the safety of the pack. And from the moment he walks in, we are surrounded creepy music. The woman tells Stiles that he won’t have any spoken contacts with the outside world for 72 hours, making sure that the isolation is complete. It also means that he won’t be able to be reassured by his loved ones. And as soon as the Sheriff begins to doubt his decision to leave Stiles there, he hears sounds louder, like Lydia earlier ; doors closing, buzzing sounds like in a prison when a cell opens and closes, etc… His mind is unable to concentrate on anything else but the sounds telling him that his son isn’t safe there. And as soon as he leaves, we have proof of that : a man hangs himself from the stairs. Right before that happens, we hear him talking, without anybody paying attention to him, even when Stiles points it out to the nurse. And when he voices his need to talk to someone outside, his request is denied. In this place, there are so many voices and levels of insanity that the few clear sentences that come out of the patients’ mouth are taken as white noise.

Stiles' roommate Oliver then tells him that he is aware of the suicide without having to leave his bed. The other name for this institution is Echo House, because according to him, everything echos there. Which means that the pain and suffering that one patient can experience is voiced and shared with all the other patients. Voices here are a sign of insanity and unsafe environment.

Sadly, all of this was perceived by Lydia earlier in the season. When Stiles went missing, she went to his room to find an intricate bundle of rope all over his bed. When Aiden pinched a string, Lydia heard voices telling her that Stiles was trapped in Eichen house.

The story then comes full circle with Lydia being a patient at Eichen House in the 5th season where she learns all about the strength of her powers. As patients are often physically restricted or tied to their beds, it is significant that Lydia was able to finally scream out her pain. So loud in fact, that she was able to break windows and free herself.

_____________________________________________________________

In the eighth episode of season 6, Blitzkrieg, Noah Stilinski says that they are gathered together (minus Stiles) because his « goofball son » decided to drag his greatest friend in the world out in the wood to see a dead body a few years ago. And this call was the beginning of everything. If Stiles hadn’t been listening, he wouldn’t have led Scott outside, Scott wouldn’t have been bitten, and none of this would have happened. And that’s the most important thing in this show. Without sounds, there wouldn’t be any kind of story.

Rare are the shows and movies who are able to make a complete work without any sounds, or spoken words. But as astonishing as those body of work are, it makes even more important the ones that feature sounds as a tool. Because that’s what they are, in the end. Tools to move a story, tools to understand the characters. Show runners talk through their characters, bring life to words that only existed in their minds. Some put more thoughts into it than others, but I think that we can learn a lot from the person behind a show if we listen closely to the sounds they choose to include in a story. Each character is a representation of a specific idea, and each one of their words represents an important notion a show runner wants the audience to grasp. Are we all willing to listen, though?

[thosestarsthatshine]

Dogfight

Atsumu x Reader

The rules were simple: find a date and win some money. Who knew that one small encounter could change Atsumu’s life forever.

masterlist

Chapter Two - Come to a Party

It’s been hours, and Atsumu’s been having the worst luck. He’s been all around Tokyo - to the library, the park, the karaoke bars -  and yet despite it all he still hasn’t found a date. It feels like the universe is conspiring against him. Every girl that he’s approached as either seen right through his tactics, or just has flat out ignored him. He was beginning to grow desperate. Time was running down and he needed to find someone to bring. The competitive side in him was growing irritated at admitting any sort of defeat. 

Also the blow to his ego from all the rejection isn’t helping either.

He’s not backing down though. Atsumu spies a small cafe, aptly named Rose’s, up ahead and decides to take a quick break before continuing to search. 

Stepping through the door, Atsumu notices that although it’s only 8, the cafe is not that busy. The tiny cafe doesn’t look like it could fit a ton of people, and the people who are there are few and far between. He heads up to the counter and is greeted by the sight of woman, who looks to be about middle age, behind the counter.  She greets him as he approaches, “What can I get you?” 

Atsumu looks at her name tag, it says Rose - she must be the owner, and attempts to give her his best flirtatious smile, “I’ll take your finest cup of coffee please.”

Rose seems unamused as she answers, “Coming right up.” Atsumu, once again defeated pays and finds a seat at a table in the corner. 

As he sits, he looks around the small cafe, he spots a waitress clumsily coming out from behind the counter. She makes small talk with Rose, who points to his table as she hands the waitress his cup of coffee. He hadn’t known that she was back there to begin with, or that she was in the cafe at all. She seems shy, a bit awkward, not super comfortable in her own skin, and to be honest she’s very plain. Not really Atsumu’s type but she seems like the perfect person to take to the dogfight. She makes her way over to his table with his coffee, and Atsumu sees this as his last ditch effort to try and find someone, anyone to take. Atsumu knows that he has to try really hard to get her to find him appealing enough to agree to come with him. 

She arrives at the table to set down his coffee, avoiding his gaze completely, quietly speaking, “Here’s the coffee you ordered.”

“Thanks. Say, I’m feeling kind of hungry. Anything that ya’d recommend from the menu.” Atsumu gives her a genuine smile as he holds the menu he found on the table, in his hands. It seems that no customer in this cafe must pay her any real attention because she seems shocked that he’s speaking to her. 

She fumbles with her fingers as she nervously speaks up, “Um, well I personally think that our muffins are the best, but I might be a bit biased since I helped make them this morning.” 

Atsumu sees this as an in, “So you’re a baker huh, do you make all of the pastries here?”

She quickly nods

“What’s your favorite ones to make?”

Atsumu can see that she still seems wary of him yet somehow beginning to open up to him, “I prefer chocolate chip, they’re just classic.” 

“I’m a bit of a banana nut muffin man myself, but I’ll have to take your word for it. Anything else ya’d recommend?”

Before she can respond, Rose comes over to the table. “Hate to interrupt but Y/N I need some help. Gotta get ready for the morning.” 

Y/N faces Rose and apologizes “Sorry mama” then turns to Atsumu, “Sorry, I - I guess I gotta get back to work.” Y/N moves away from the table and back over to the counter. Before Atsumu can say anything Rose speaks to him as if sensing his intentions with her daughter aren’t all that wholesome, “Better finish that cup, we’re closing soon.”  She leaves through a door in the back of the cafe that leads to a set of stairs, there is a sign over the door that says “EMPLOYEES ONLY”. Atsumu waits a bit before heading to the counter to speak with Y/N again. 

“Hey, I apologize if I got ya in trouble. It was never my intention.” Atsumu tries to sound as sincere as possible. 

Y/N gives him a shy smile, “It’s okay, Mama just gets a tad bit grumpier at closing time.” 

Atsumu gives a small laugh, “I get it, my Ma’s the same way when it’s getting late and my twin brother and I are still outside practicing our volleyball plays.”

Y/N seems curious, “You have a twin brother, I’ve always wanted a sibling. I bet it’s fun getting to play volleyball with him?”

“It can be, he’s a bit of a scrub sometimes.” He mumbles, to which Y/N laughs, a genuine one full of innocence. He continues, “We’re pretty good actually. Made it to Nationals the past three years.” Atsumu beams with pride as he says that. 

“Hey, I just realized something, I never introduced myself. The name’s Atsumu Miya.” He sticks his hand out as if he wants her to shake it, she does, letting out a small giggle. “I’m Y/N L/N.” Their hands shake for a few moments as they smile at each other. Atsumu decides that now is as good a time as any to try and get her to come, so he pretends to look at the clock behind Y/N. “Well, I better get going, gotta head to a party.”

“A party?”

“Yeah some friends of mine are throwing a little get together.” Atsumu suddenly pretends that he’s had this brilliant idea, “How’d ya like to come with me?”

Y/N is a bit shocked, she’s only just met Atsumu. She won’t deny that she thinks that he’s cute, but it seems a bit weird to go to a party with a man she’s just met.  “I would love to go but - I’m still on the clock and I have a lot of work to finish up.” 

“It’s okay Y/N ya don’t have to lie to me. I get that I’m an athlete and that sometimes we don’t have the best reps. People think we’re rude jerks. If you don’t wanna go ya can just say it, I understand.” 

“No, it’s not that - I don’t think you’re - its just - I mean, I just met you.” 

Atsumu begins to think on his feet. “Well, you know my name, you know that I have a twin brother, that I play volleyball. I’m an open book anything ya want to know, I’ll tell ya.”

Hearing this seems to make Y/N shy, Atsumu runs with this. “I’m not playing any games, I promise. Sure, I thought ya were pretty when I first saw ya, but I just want ya to get to know ya. I feel this connection between us, even if we did just meet. Kinda rare don’t ya think?”

Y/N seems skeptical. Atsumu continues though, “Come to this party with me, I promise to treat ya right. We can take this opportunity to get to know each other. Have some fun. I know this might sound weird but I just think that you seem real special. I promise if ya come there’ll be no funny business.” He makes an “X“ over his heart, signifying a promise and gives her his best smile.

“I dunno, Atsumu, you seem nice but like I said we just met, plus I have a ton of work to do to help close up.” 

“Why don’t I tell ya a little bit more about myself and you can decide if ya want to come or not. I was born in the Hyogo prefecture. I’ve played volleyball all my life. I’m actually here in Tokyo for a recruitment camp in the hopes I can get scouted to a team.”

“Wow, that must be exciting”

“It is, all my life I’ve wanted to play volleyball. I knew I was destined for it. It’s in my blood, I know it is. It’s the only real true calling I’ve ever had.”

Y/N seems touched by his words, gives a small smile, “I bet you’re really good then, to have made it to a recruitment camp.”

Atsumu smiles at her, a genuine one, “Thanks.”

Y/N is torn, she wants to go with Atsumu and get to know him, but she’s never done anything like this before. She feels a bit flustered. “Atsumu, I’d really like to go with you, but I gotta finish cleaning up.” She begins to resume cleaning up. 

Atsumu perks up at this, “What if I help ya out?” He’s getting desperate he can sense the hesitation in Y/N, it’s now or never at this point.”

“I don’t know that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Y/N’s words fall on silent ears as Atsumu begins to “help” clean up, although who knows if help is the right word for it. What little he achieves in helping clean up, he makes up for in charming Y/N. As they clean up together, they begin to talk more and get to know each other. Atsumu still asking her if she would like to come with, but Y/N is still hesitant. 

They finish up in record time, as Y/N sets a chair up on a table, but as she goes to turn around she trips over a box that Atsumu must have left on the floor in his “attempts” to help her clean. 

Before she can hit the ground, Atsumu races over to her and catches her in his arms. Mere inches apart, close enough to kiss, there is apparent electricity flowing between them. Maybe Atsumu was right earlier about a rare connection.  A moment passes between them only for them to immediately separate as they were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Rose. He shakes away the thought from a moment ago. 

“Y/N, honey, you need to change the sign on the door, we’re closed.” She says the last part more to Atsumu than Y/N.  As quickly as she arrived, Rose turns back. 

Atsumu looks at the clock once again and sees that he only has 30 minutes before the party is supposed to start. He realizes that maybe he’ll just have to accept defeat. “Well I guess I gotta head out. I’m glad we met Y/N, you’re a sweet girl. Maybe we’ll meet again one day. Still, it’s a shame. I thought that maybe if ya came with me, well who knows. Maybe we coulda -“ He pauses for a moment, lingering on a thought hoping she’ll say she’s changed her mind. When he senses that she won’t he, he gives up, “Anyway, have a good night.” 

Atsumu goes and turns for the door. Y/N watches him go, she’s torn as she considers going. It feels like time moves slowly as Atsumu gets closer and closer to the door. He has his hand on the handle as Y/N shouts at him, causing him to stop. “Atsumu, wait. I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna go with ya, just let me run upstairs to my apartment to change!”

Atsumu smiles, feeling victorious, “Okay!”

“Okay!” Y/N turns towards the stairs to her apartment then stops. “Atsumu, I’ve never - what kind of party is it?”

“A party, party.”

“Should I dress up?”

Thinking this is too good to be true Atsumu responds, “Yeah, you should dress up, go all out if ya want!”

“Okay” Y/N’s excited as she runs up the stairs towards her apartment, tripping on the first step, then pauses looking at Atsumu hoping he didn’t catch that. 

Atsumu just pretends he didn’t see, as Y/N continues run upstairs. Excited about going to the party with Atsumu. 

As soon as Y/N is out of sight. Atsumu decides to wait outside, laughing at his incredible luck. Relief washes over him. “I can’t believe I did it! I’m totally gonna win now!” Now all he needs to do is wait for Y/N to come down. 

[plush-rabbit]

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

You were online a week later.

It was a boring day, with a slow start and by night, you were starting to feel restless, your feet bouncing and an empty bag of chips rests on your nightstand. You were itching for something to do, anything to distract but no show or game could hold your attention. You throw your head back and gnaw at your bottom lip.

Your fingers tap against the keyboard, and with a glance at the time, you pull up the calendar for the group time slots and with a fairly positive outlook that that you wouldn’t run into the other team members, you booted up the game, and started a simple mission but even then your attention couldn’t be held. The game had already lost its spark for you.

You admit that you reacted childishly in response to being yelled at. You were always sensitive, you cried too much and took everything personally even if you tried not to but for some reason it just hit different when he had yelled at you.

You were so angry with him at the time. But when you awoke the next day, you were angry with yourself. You made that dumb post and now you had to hold off for a month to show that his words didn’t hurt you- you had a point to prove, you didn’t want to seem as someone who reacted so childishly.

You thought you would miss the game but having not played for a period of time, you were starting to enjoy your time. You slept a bit earlier, your back wasn’t sore from hunching over and you had started to pick up old hobbies that you dropped when you got sucked into this game. Picking it back up, the game no longer felt the same. You remember you could get lost in this game for hours, you liked the customization options, the weapons, and the soundtrack was pretty good, but for now as you wandered around a forest, looking for a crystal that wouldn’t be of any real use to you seeing as you had already decided to quit the game for good, you were grateful for the distraction.

But as the clock ticked on, you had already grown bored, feeling your joints become sore and a headache forming. You were about to exit out of the game and pray that none of the members would see that you were active but then a ‘ding’ startled you awake. You peeked at the corner of the screen, a familiar icon popping up. You frowned, your shoulders slumped and you debated with yourself on whether you should open the message or not but your curiosity won over.

<Tomaraki>

>Are you quitting the game or not?

“Blunt as always,” you thought to yourself, your fingers already typing at the keyboard.

<User_Name>

>Yeah:P

His reply came a second later.

<Tomaraki>

>Why?

You wanted to type, “Why do you care?” You really did. You had the words on screen, the cursor blinking back at you, but you couldn’t force yourself to press the ‘Enter’ key. The corner of your mouth twitched and you backspaced, the message disappearing and replaced by another.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know. I’m kinda sick of it, you know? The user base is p toxic and I know that can be said for most games but I don’t know┐(´～｀)┌

>Plus after taking a break and coming back to it,,, the game doesn’t feel the same anymore

>I’m kind of bored of it

<Tomaraki>

>That’s stupid

You let of a scoff, rolling your eyes at his answer.

<User_Name>

>I have been known to be pretty dumb

>I’m sure you’ve called me stupid before too lol

You watch as the three dots bubble up and down the screen, signifying his reply is being typed out and having no other form of entertainment, you take in a deep breath and with butterflies flapping around in your stomach, you type out more before he can reply to your original message.

>Will you be fine without me?

>You won’t miss your bestest pal uwu

On the other side of the screen, Shigaraki narrows his eyes. His eyes shine dangerously, and he’s positive if you knew who were talking to, you’d be shaking and begging for you life. Or perhaps you’d be dead. He’s not sure.

<Tomaraki>

>I have better ‘friends’ than you

“Ouch.” You cringe inwardly. “Strike one.”

<User_Name>

>Wow, rude much??

>Well if I’m quitting, do you want my stuff? I’ve racked up a decent amount of gold and other stuff:P

“I sound like I’m dying and writing my will, stop being weird about it. You never even meet the dude,” you mumble to yourself, grateful that the voice chat function was off. “Oh my god. He could be like super old or something”

<Tomaraki>

>Does it look like I take handouts?

“Is that a strike two?” You chewed on the idea of your cheek. “If I have to ask, it probably was.”

<User_Name>

Can I ask you something?

<Tomaraki>

You just did

<User_Name>

:////

You were about to type out your question, the four words staring back at you unblinking. It would be weird, right? Of course it would be. And even if you did ask him that, the odds of him accepting would be slim. Plus, if he did reject, that would be strike three and you really didn’t want to strike out so much.

<Tomaraki>

>Well?

<User_Name>

>Um,,,

>How old are you?

You threw your head into your hands and let out an agonized moan. Maybe you should just delete your account now. You don’t even know the guy’s name and he doesn’t know yours. So you could just delete your account and that would be it. You’d never have to speak to him ever again.

<Tomaraki>

>You’re weird

You start laughing.

<User_Name>

>Says the guy who would tell other players to be careful who they’re talking to

>Who are you? Light Yagami?

<Tomaraki>

>That’s a shit reference

<User_Name>

>You got it tho

>(ʃƪ¬‿¬)

<Tomaraki>

>Why do you want to know?

“You have nothing to lose really,” you try to convince yourself as a way to just get to talk to him more.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know

>After a while, I always thought of you as a friend

>The other members sorta liked me, but I think it was more of them putting up with me

>But I thought we were beginning to form a friendship so I don’t know

>I guess a dumb part of me thought we could’ve been friends outside of the game:P

Shigaraki stares at the screen in disbelief. You must not have much or any friends at all if you thought he was being friendly. He’s positive that he would kill you if he knew you in real life. Probably right away if he met you on the street or maybe he’d take you as a hostage. He’s sure that he’d kill you but now he’s not sure when.

<Tomaraki>

>You really are dumb

<User_Name>

>I can’t tell if you mean it or not

>Knowing you, you probably do

>Can I say good-bye to you? Like facecam wise?

He’d kill you on sight.

<User_Name>

>You don’t have to turn your camera on!! I guess, as my last like dumb wish, I wanna say bye?

>Pleaseee（/｡＼)

>I’ll promise to log out afterwards

Shigaraki stares at your messages, trying to gauge at what you’re trying to get at. Do you really want to just say bye? Who the hell gets so emotional in a fucking game? But he would be lying is he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious to see what you look like. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll be attractive and he could probably jerk at the thought of you before he goes to bed.

<Tomaraki>

>I’m not showing my face

You smile at his answer. It’s the best that you were hoping for and you start to brush your hair out of your face, checking the mirror on your nightstand to see if you look presentable.

<User_Name>

>Fine by me

>It’ll be quick, promise:)

And soon he’s staring at the pop-up screen asking if he’d like to request a video call from you. He’s tempted to click no. He cranes his head behind him and once he’s certain that the door is closed, he accepts your call.

You pop up on screen. You’re cute, that’s as much as he’s willing to admit. You adjusting yourself, putting a strand of hair behind your ear before you realize that the call has been accepted. You look startled, and a shade of pink fills in your cheeks. You giggle nervously, waving a hand at the screen.

“Ahaha, hi!” You giggle nervously and he’s pretty sure you’re already regretting this decision. “So like I promised to keep this short and all, so I will.” You looked determined; you stand a bit straighter and take in a deep breath. You remind him of an anime character, someone with exaggerated movements and he’s positive that you’ve confessed your feelings to someone before in that same action.

“Now, now,” his voice freezes you in place, he reminds me you of snake, slithering towards their unassuming prey and you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s trying to convey, “what’s the rush? I thought we were “bestest friends”.” His voice is sickly sweet, taunting you with words that you’ve spoken. His words make you nervous, your hands clenching together and your stomach forming knots.

And suddenly it’s clicked in your mind that he wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s probably getting off at the thought of it. And while he is succeeding at that, you don’t want to lose whatever game he’s playing.

“Ha! You admitted it.” You swallow the lump in your throat and flex your fingers. “Okay bestie,” the way you say the word is like you’re trying to bait him into something, and even you’re not sure what you’re leading him into, “I gotta ask. Are you an old man? You sound kind of creepy. Not like a pervy creepy but like you’re gonna kidnap me and murder me in your basement kind of creepy.”

He laughs and you decide that you want to hear more of it- even if it does sound eerie.

“Do me a favor? If you do end up kidnapping me, can you at least bring me a smoothie from BlueBird’s?” You test out your luck, hoping that he’ll play along so you’re not the only talking and maybe it’ll disrupt whatever ruse he was planning.

“What flavor?” He sneered, playing at this sick roleplay that you made up.

You smiled brightly, as if you had gotten one over him, and surprisingly, he didn’t hate your smile. He’s seen all sorts of smiles directed towards him- crazed, trying to get into his good graces, smiles that held murderous intent but yours just looked happy, happy that you were talking to him. Illuminated by a yellow glow, his sneer looks more twisted, his upper lip curling in a twisted way and crimson eyes narrowed with revulsion.

“Mango, please and thank you.” You nodded your head, your smile wasn’t gentle as it was before, it was now playful, as if you wanted to continue this whole kidnapping scenario. He wanted to see how long this conversation would go before you said goodbye. For good. “Anyways, I said I’d make this quick and I will. I—”

“I’m not an old man.”

You laughed at his answer, covering your smile with your hand, and you looked up at him, your eyes brimming with mischief and excitement.

“Okay. And I’m not some elderly person either.”

“Yeah dumbass, I can see that.”

You crossed your arms and you continued to smile at him. “I get that we’re besties and all, but do you really have to keep insulting me?” You pouted your lips, before they broke out into a toothy smile, it was a bit forced but it was only to show that you were joking around with him.

“Is there any other type of friendship?” He genuinely sounded a bit curious.

“Mm, maybe?” You tilted you head to the side and he had a fleeting thought that you reminded him of a cat. “I mean, when I’m with my friends, we joke a lot but we don’t really insult each other too often.” You frowned a bit, your eyebrows furrowed before returning to the screen, giving out a half smile and shrugging your shoulders. “Thin skin, I guess.” A pause was in the air, too uncomfortable for your liking. “Are your friendships like that? Insulting, I mean.”

He hesitated for a second before replying, his voice drenched in fake nonchalance, “That’s a dumb question.”

You took that as a clue to not dwell on the subject any longer. You nodded to yourself forgetting that you were screen, only to hear him chortle on the other side.

“Are you agreeing that it’s a dumb question?”

You stretched your mouth into a nervous smile, heat lighting your cheeks as you racked your brain for a solid excuse on why you nodded to yourself. “Um, yeah?” You didn’t sound confident in the slightest but Shigaraki was curious on how you would save your own skin this time even if this conversation was rather dull. “Like, I guess it would make sense that you said that.” You brought your hands up, and shrugged them, your fingers curling inwards. “It was you who like really enforced the rule about not talking about your personal life so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to talk about your IRL friend groups.” You leaned further back, your pillows providing comfort against the hard wood that was your bed frame.

No noise came from him other than that of fabric being moved around and scratching at the microphone. “Did you really just say ‘IRL’ instead of ‘in real life’?” He sounded smug about it, as if he had proof that you were a total dweeb. “I never took you for one of those people.” He said ‘those people’ as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.

You let out a nervous laugh, before it grew into a snicker with your eyes shut. “First of all, ‘IRL” is faster to say compared to ‘in real life’ so jot that down. Second of all,” you tilted your chin upwards, giving you a false sense of superiority, “you’re the only always going on about “eat shit and die” and “suck my dick”,” your voice dropped an octave, a poor imitation of the man who hide behind a black screen. “So if I’m one of those people, then you’re like the poster boy of a gamer gatekeeper.”

“It’s not my fault other players are shit.” He breathed out.

“Oh yeah, the other players are shit; it totally isn’t you acting better than everyone.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, your tone teasing.

“I’m glad you agree,” he replied, letting out huffs of air through his nose.

It grew silent once more, and this time you weren’t uncomfortable with it, it had actually felt nice. Comfortable, even. Well at least as comfortable as it could get when you couldn’t see the other game but he could see you and all your mannerisms. You clasped your hands together, intertwining them, your attention focused on the black that took up nearly all of your screen, save for your own square that held you on the left hand corner.

“I think,” you started out, the words heavy on your lips, “I think I’m ready to say goodbye.” Once you started, you couldn’t stop. A part of you wished he would interrupt and maybe ask for your email or phone number so you could continue to keep in contact, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. Whatever this was, this odd one-sided friendship, stayed and died here. “It was fun talking to you. Even if you were a dick.” You gave the man a smile, you hoped that it was seen as happy, teasing one. “I liked this one-sided friendship. Even if it hadn’t lasted for long.” You bite down on your lips, your teeth dragging against your dry, bottom lip and you reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your chapstick, rubbing the tube with your fingers before clenching it in one hand. “It was nice knowing you Tomaraki. Take care, okay?”

You didn’t wait for his reply- you knew that you wouldn’t get one. You scrolled your mouse of to the telephone outline, and as you were about to click it, his voice rasped out, telling you to wait. Startled you pulled back, the mouse jerked downwards, moving past the outline and you stared at him, eyes wide and head cocked to the side, waiting for him to speak further.

He hadn’t known why he shouted for you to wait. He didn’t even want to talk to you in the first place, it was your promise that you would leave him alone that even convinced him to accept your request but here he was, barking at you to wait as you stared at him with owlish eyes and a closed mouth as you gave him the floor to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he sounded so frantic at the thought of you leaving and then quitting the game, any form of communication getting erased within minutes.

“I,” he started out, grateful that the screen was black on his end, his hands coming up to pick at his neck, “What’s that?” He was going to kick himself later, he was sure of it.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing before landing on the tube in your hand. “This?” You held the tube upright, a confused smile gracing your features. “It’s chapstick. It’s uh-” you turned the tube over, looking for the label where it stated its flavor- “It’s vanilla honey flavored.” You opened the tube and rubbed the chapstick on your lips, smacking them together. “Why? You looking for recommendations?”

He decided to go for a truth, knowing that it wouldn’t give anything away. “I have dry lips.”

“Oh.” You pursed your lips, and you scratched at the area where your jawline meets your neck. “I’m not knowledgeable about the different types of chapsticks, I usually like to get the ones that have a nice flavor. I had this peppermint one but I lost it. Are you drinking enough water? That should help too. You could also try lip scrubs. You don’t have to buy them, you could always make them at home but you’d need brown sugar for a rougher feel.” You rambled on, moving your hands around, and his eyes stayed trained at your moving hands, your voice growing distant. He could only hum in response as you continued to talk and mention stores that sold lip scrubs.

“Uh, Toma? You there?” You asked, your hands clenching and bringing them closer to your chest.

He raised his eyebrows at the sound of a nickname. “Toma?”

“Hah, uh yeah. Tomaraki is too long, I mean unless you want me to call you something else?” You seemed invested with continuing the conversation and he could understand why. You always craved attention- always undermined your skills, all so someone could praise you. But why did he want to continue this conversation? Was it simply because he had someone talk to him about mundane things, things that didn’t carry so much weight? Was it because you treated him as if he were a person first, rather than a villain?

“No. No I don’t mind.” His voice came out softer than he expecting, than you were expecting given that your eyes widen, your mouth pulled into an ‘o’ shape before you smiled gently at him, your lips turning slightly upwards.

“Okay.” You held your breath for a second. “Do you wanna call me by my name?” Your voice was soft, matching his tone from earlier.

He wanted to snap at you, asking why he would even want to but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know how to answer you without snapping. But you took pity on him, his silence deafening and you told him your name, you voice sweet and heating him up from within, the heat pooling in his stomach before travelling upwards into his chest, a momentary blast of warmth before it faded away. He tested your name on his tongue, the word heavy and foreign on his tongue. He repeated your name, the odd feeling being replaced by familiarity.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” You smiled, your tone playful but still soft, as you sank deeper into your mattress, your legs aching in protest from being in a still position for so long.

He didn’t have a comeback. He remained silent, repeating your name in his head, the tone of your voice when you asked him if he had wanted to know and when you spoke it, invading all of his thoughts.

“You know,” you started out, stifling a yawn behind a hand, “if you had wanted to continue this conversation you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind talking to you.”

“You’re tired.” He opted to avoid confirming or denying your accusation.

“It’s late, of course I’m tired.” He suddenly took notice of the way your eyes were starting to droop, how your eyes would widen, forcing them to stay open.

“You should go to bed.” His voice was stiff, he didn’t want to continue this conversation but he saw you frown, your lips downturned, noticing the difference in tone but you quickly smiled, any features of disappointment being erased.

“But this conversation was just getting good,” You whined, another yawn coming out, tears pricking your eyes. “Hey, I got a dumb idea,” you said.

“All your ideas are dumb,” he muttered underneath his breath, missing the fall of your face that disappeared before he could turn back.

“You want my number?” You ran a hand through your hair, swallowing deeply, your mouth suddenly dry and the chapstick on your lips too heavy. “If you want, of course. You don’t have to exchange yours. But you aren’t obligated to reply to me either. Obviously.”

He hesitated to answer; both to see you squirm in your seat but also because he was unsure. Did he want to continue this friendship that would only end sour, that wouldn’t progress further than what it already was. He reasoned to himself that if the friendship was going to stay stagnated, what was the harm of saying yes? What was the harm of talking to you a bit longer?

He nodded his head, only to realize that you couldn’t see him. The only reason you weren’t reporting him to the police, calling and screaming for heroes was because you couldn’t see him. A hand reached over to grab Father, his other hand tugging at the skin on his neck, feeling the cold air of the room sting at the raw flesh. Your reaction to his answer gave him an odd sense of pride on how you had swelled up, giving him a wide grin, the smile reaching your eyes and you sat up straighter, asking him if he was ready and you began to tell him your phone number, repeating it to make sure he had gotten it down correctly, the grin on your lips never leaving.

Ten minutes later, your account was deleted, all assets transferred over to Toma. Your eyes burned with sleep, the blankets on top of you suddenly weighed a ton, and right before you gave in to sleep, butterflies slowly started to form in your stomach.

In a dark room, only lit up by the screen of his phone, Shigaraki stays up, his eyes burning with the need for sleep as he just stares blankly at the your number. He wonders to himself why he had even agreed to accept your number, but he couldn’t go back in time and reject your offer- the most he could do was not message you. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back and forth between ignoring you tomorrow or attempt to have a conversation with you.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

[bluesfortheredj]

A spanner in the works.

Your forehead is resting on the cold, hard kitchen table and the warm breath passing through your open lips is making your face hotter than it already is; it’s an uncomfortable position but the thudding pain in your head is even worse than your current pose so it’s the lesser of two evils right now and there’s something comforting about being curled over while feeling so ill. The last time you looked at the clock it was something past 3 in the morning and you’d escaped the bedroom as quietly as possible so as to not wake Gwilym from his much needed sleep. You were hoping that the tablet you’d taken when you got to the kitchen would work it’s magic on your migraine and you’d be feeling fine for the day ahead but it was looking less likely with each passing second of excruciating pain.

“(Y/N)?” Gwil whispers groggily from the doorway, “are you alright?”

You’re unable to lift your head so you give him a thumbs down and a groan of pain to go along with it, then you hear him sigh sadly before feeling him take a seat next to you.

“Do you want anything?” he asks quietly as he places a hand on top of yours.

The response is a slow shake of your head from side to side on the hard wood and he grimaces at the thought of your head rolling about on the rough surface.

“Lift your head darling, please,” he encourages, squeezing your hand.

You groan again as you slowly lift it up, squinting into the dim light coming from the hallway, and he can see the large dark circles underneath your eyes that indicate it’s a particularly bad attack.

“Oh, (Y/N),” he pouts, “sweetheart, come to bed.”

“I can’t...” you begin, unable to finish your sentence.

“I’ve got you.”

He stands up then squats next to you and scoops you from the chair as you manage to move your arms up and around his neck, then he carries you gently up the stairs and back into the bedroom where he carefully places you down onto the mattress and rushes to turn off the landing light. You soon drift off to leave Gwil alone with his thoughts, and he opens up his bedside table drawer to lift out a small box that was meant to be the main focus of tomorrow. His eyes move from the burgundy velvet box over to your face which was etched with pain even in sleep and he flicks the lid open to check the ring is still there before shutting it quietly and placing it back in the drawer. He couldn’t help but feel a deep disappointment at your plans for the day being thrown into jeopardy by one of your migraine attacks, but he knew that you’d be feeling just as down about it even though you hadn’t a clue as to the real reason for your outing.

“Gwil?” you croak out in the darkness.

“Yes love?”

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise before drifting off again but seconds later.

Gwilym smiles to himself at your slurred sorry then leans over and kisses the side of your head delicately, “don’t be darling,” he whispers.

The next morning you wake to find an empty spot next to you in bed and your arm glides over the space lazily as you try to focus your thoughts and clear the fog that had gathered around your brain from last night’s painful interruption of sleep. When your eyes decide to finally sharpen for a brief moment you see the clock already reading 11am, and you pout sadly at the thought that you should be sipping coffee in central London with the love of your life instead of stuck in bed feeling like shit. As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gwil pops his head around the door and opens it fully when he sees that you’re now awake.

“Hey you,” he smiles, “how are you feeling?”

He perches himself on the edge of the bed as his fingers weave their way through your tangled hair, smoothing it and tucking it behind your ears as he goes, and you give him a weak smile back along with a shaky thumbs up.

“I’m sorry I’ve ruined our day,” you sigh, “I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”

Today was meant to be for the two of you to do things you hadn’t for a while; get a morning coffee, stroll the streets of London, go to the cinema, and then top it off with a meal at the beautiful restaurant Gwilym had taken you to on your first date. The romance of it all had you weak at the knees, and the dizzy heights of love must have been the cause of this particular migraine.

“It doesn’t matter,” he reassures, pausing his movements through your hair so he can stroke his thumb along your cheek, “we’ll do something tomorrow when you’re feeling a little better, yeah?”

“It won’t be as good as today was going to be though, will it?”

“Of course it will! I’ll be spending it with you, so what on earth makes you think it won’t be as good?”

“You’re too nice to me,” you blush, bringing a hand up to your face and covering your eyes shyly.

His lips turn up into a grin that shows off his pearly whites and you melt at the sight from behind your fingers, “I’ll make you some toast,” he says as he takes your hand away from your face and kisses the back of it.

You spend most of the day either laying in bed or laying on the sofa watching him type away at his laptop and staring at the screen intently, and by nightfall you’re just about feeling ready for a small outing the next day.

Gwilym’s still fast asleep when you wake earlier than usual thanks to the naps and rest you got the previous day, and you manage to shower and dress before he even opens an eye lid. He finds you downstairs on the sofa with a plate perched precariously on your lap as you watch the telly, and it takes you a moment to realise he’s there from how much concentration it’s taking you to listen to what’s going on and process it inside your still lagging brain.

“So where do you fancy going today then?” he asks when you finally turn to see him.

“I was thinking the Tate Britain, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, I just don’t think I can handle coffee, a huge cinema screen, and any rich food today,” you laugh, grimacing a little as you place a hand on your stomach, “we’re a little delicate this morning.”

“Sounds perfect,” he sighs happily, “I’ll get ready.”

He bounds down the stairs less than an hour later, shoves some toast into his mouth, then drags you out to the car in an excited whirlwind and you’re left laughing at his enthusiasm as he helps you with your seatbelt. No words are uttered during the drive but the radio fills any silences and you both end up dancing to the same songs when you hit a spot of traffic which says more than any sentence could. Luckily there’s plenty of space to park outside the gallery on a Sunday and you’re soon clambering out of the car and making your way inside hand in hand. It’s exciting; you hadn’t been here in a long time, and it was the perfect remedy for your spoiled Saturday with a nice calm atmosphere where you could take your time wandering around the galleries. Your hands refuse to let go of one another as you make your way around the first part, and wherever he goes you do to until you move into the next space and a David Hockney catches your eye. Gwilym hangs around on the other side of this room, watching you carefully as he stays out of your eye line and simply enjoys the way you inspect every single detail inside the picture, then he taps his pocket to make sure the little box is still tucked away safely before he makes his way over to you.

“There you are!” you whisper excitedly as you link your arms around his nearest one to you and cuddle it close so you can rest your head on his coat, “if you had to pick one work of art from this room to have in our house, which would you choose?”

“Are we art thieves now?” he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe...” you reply with a cheeky grin.

“Well then… I’d better make it a good choice,” he hums, looking around the room and guiding you both to the lone bench in the middle, “right… okay… I’d go with Scylla over there.”

“A conversational piece, of course,” you nod, “something you can judge a person by when they say what they see in the image.”

“You know me too well.”

You shuffle closer to him on the bench and rest your head on his shoulder with a contented sigh, and the two of you stare at the wall of paintings in front of you in a blissful silence until you feel Gwil rooting around in the pocket of his coat, and he takes a quick glance around the room to make sure you’re both alone before he breaks the peacefulness with a deep breath.

“(Y/N)...” he says, almost nervously which makes you lift your head to see if he was okay, “I, uh… I have a question...”

“I’d steal R.B.K.” you grin as you nod towards the brightly coloured painting adjacent to the two of you, “it reminds me of waiting for you to come home when you’ve been away for a while; me, the blue figure staring out of the window as I wait for my love to return, signified quite aptly by the red heart.”

Gwil smiles as you drag your eyes away from the painting towards his face, and he can no longer keep the words inside, “will you marry me?” he blurts out, bringing his other hand in to view with the now open ring box clutched in his palm.

You flinch back from him but your arm stays linked with his and you glance from his hand to his face at least five times before opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water as your brain tries to process what’s going on. Tears prick your eyes as you realise this beautiful man in front of you wants to actually spend the rest of his life with you, and a gasp finally makes its way up into your throat.

Gwilym looks at you anxiously as the seconds seems to drag on like minutes, “you don’t-”

“Yes!” you half laugh, half cry, “yes I will. Of course I will. Are you sure?”

He laughs as he too begins to tear up a little, “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

You shake your head in disbelief as he gets the ring out of the box, takes your hand, then slips the silver band down your finger until it lands safely at the base, and you’re both left staring in awe at the piece of jewellery that now sits where it’s meant to be. The gallery is still as quiet as when you walked in, not a soul around you as you soak in the sheer joy you’re both feeling, and you tilt your head up to kiss his waiting lips before cuddling into his side once more; the two of you now wearing the giddiest of grins.

Gwilym proposing. That’s it that’s the plot. I trust you to do it however you want! That’s my request, write how you wanna be proposed, make it with Gwil (and cute pls)

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @the-baby-bookworm @chlobo6 @drivenbybri

[lizacstuff]

SCK/Edser Asks Episode 36 (+37 spec)

(asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: I really liked parts of SCK this week, but other parts made me want to scream. What did you think?

Same, same. This episode taken as an exercise in just watching Hande and Kerem doing their thing...  AMAZING. But... even they can’t save the writing. 

I’ll get into detail as I answer asks, but I felt this episode was a bit disjointed and I’m wondering if that is due to some of the alleged rewrites that happened. We know  for sure there were rewrites for Bige, for instance I’m guessing that the Serkan/Selin conversation was supposed to be in person and not on the phone and that it might have been watered down due to that. But even prior to that, we know that they delayed shooting for a day and a half and it was said to be because there were rewrites. I’m honestly wondering if they got the scripts and there wasn’t enough Eda and Serkan, and so maybe the producers had the writers go back and try and fix that and maybe that’s why there seemed to be some emotional inconsistencies scene to scene? Who knows, but I got that feeling just like I did with episode 24. Another one with great scenes that didn’t always make sense one after the other. 

That being said, lets jump in:

Anonymous said: Just me or did anyone else feel uneasy at how quickly everyone in SCK decided to just forget the last 6 weeks? Eda & Serkan were just so happy to be back together and we got lots of sweet moments but it just felt like something bad was going to happen. Plus did the characters (and the viewers) really go through all this pain just to gloss over it and pretend things were normal again? While I think the Selin pregnancy story will be wrapped up quickly mostly due to Bige’s current situation, I think (and hope) it has brought to light that Eda & Serkan have some work to do before getting married. They love each other but something feels off. The super quick proposal with a random ring just felt so wrong to me. I am still struggling with Serkan’s character and Eda needs some time to process everything that has happened.

Uneasy is a great word to describe how I was feeling. I think that was a huge problem with this episode.  It’s almost like as the audience we’re being gaslit. Like they write this huge traumatic, dramatic storyline, they have Serkan go through hell, break Eda’s heart over and over again, they have Selin and Deniz as awful, manipulative people terrorizing the protagonists, but then at the end the narrative is like *handwave* “Nah, you’re crazy, it wasn’t that bad. These people don’t need to talk about anything or heal, no apologizes, no emotional showdowns and the villains don’t need to be punished, we’ll all just move on.”

IT’S UNSETTLING AS A VIEWER. I feel cheated. I invested in this story, watched in week after week, and then they’re not even going to give us a remorseful, devastated Serkan? Everything was glossed over. They gave us some wonderful, sweet Edser scenes (especially visually) but on my first viewing it felt like this weird cloud was hanging over everything and I couldn’t really enjoy them because I kept expecting the narrative to make some sort of meaning out of everything they’d been through, and that did not happen. (notes on my second viewing down below) 

The problem is these writers. They seem fine at coming up with melodramatic plots and shocking cliffhangers, but they have no idea how to give the emotional pay off for what they’ve set in motion.  When you put your audience through hell, you owe them to really deliver the emotional climax and these writers dropped the ball pretty much in every way they could throughout this story.

The random ring felt very wrong, but I’m sure they didn’t want to go back to the flower for a proposal that wasn’t going to be successful. No need to make it even more cursed than it is. Serkan’s decision to propose while sweet, was way too soon. I think what the writers were going for was having him propose in front of all of their family and friends, because deep down he knows how much he hurt her when he proposed to Selin in front of all of them. There was a hint of that at the wedding when he wanted to make sure everyone knew how he felt. Especially with the imagery of him getting down on one knee. Getting down on one knee signifies loyalty, obedience and respect so I think there was a lot of significant to him laying himself open to her, and symbolically declaring himself subservient to her in front of everyone. 

It’s actually very sweet and does a bit of work in the righting of wrongs, but it’s misguided, and I’m glad it failed. Maybe if we hold out, there were be new writers before she next proposes! 

Anonymous said: The real crux of SCK is that these writers cannot write for Serkan. They do not understand his character and probably never watched previous episodes. Since episode 29, there almost seems to be an internal battle with the character because he jumps back & forth between almost being old Serkan & then a straight up cold jerk usually directed at Eda. Still felt it in this recent episode, honestly the only thing that seemed to change was having his memory back & being 100% sure that Eda loved him. Maybe Eda turning down the proposal and him confronting Selin about the pregnancy will finally bring him?

You know maybe that will bring him back. I agree with you, I very much doubt these writers have seen all the episodes, it almost seems like they’re writing him from a character description or something. 

On the other hand, I could see after being through a plane crash and having a brain injury, amnesia, PTSD and then weeks of brainwashing and manipulation, that Serkan might be different, especially at first as he adjusts to getting his memories back. I don’t know how retrograde amnesia usually works, if it’s just bits and pieces as he learns to access them or a flood, but I’m sure it’s a lot to handle.  And I would be FINE with that, if that was the story they were telling. That he’s overwhelmed and hasn’t processed everything yet, that he’s not exactly the same as he was. However... I have zero faith the writers are doing that on purpose or telling this story. They just ain’t that nuanced. 

Anonymous said: I am wracking my brain trying to come up with something to justify Serkan asking Selin to stay at the company & not sell her shares. Like how is that acceptable? And he wanted Eda to be happy with just getting an apology from Selin.....nope, still do not get it. We all know that Serkan does not love Selin but he is never willing to make her feel bad about awful decisions & never goes out of his way to humiliate or hurt her. Nope, he tends to save all of that for Eda.

As I was watching, that scene made my blood boil. BOIL. 

However, afterwards, I calmed down, and I can think of a few reasons to justify where Serkan’s head was at.  First, we don’t know what Serkan exactly remembers, or if he’s just been hyper focused on Eda. He might not have thought a ton about what Selin had done and how they parted when she left the country the first time around.  

Second, remember that Serkan does not know what we know. He doesn’t know that Selin has been actively conspiring with Deniz to keep him and Eda apart and working against them every step of the way. He doesn’t know that she sabotaged Eda’s presentation and Art Life, he doesn’t know that the car accident was fake, that her injuries were fake, that she has been stalking him or that she goaded Deniz in to running from signing the marriage thing. 

He doesn’t even know all the things she did in the past. He doesn’t know that she leaked that story to the press which caused Eda to faint. And he can’t even be sure she switched the addresses that caused them to miss each other at dinner, though we assume he suspected her. 

From what he said to her, he now has processed enough to realize that not all was on the up and up, she was trying to steal their love. Insert herself where she didn’t belong. But as soon as he said that, she started manipulating him again. She instantly turned herself in to the victim and put him on the biggest guilt trip ever. Blah Blah He called her. She was there for him. She loved him. She was trying to build their life together. Blah Blah Blah. All his fault. She’s spent months brainwashing him, that doesn’t wear off in a few hours.   Manipulation. Guilt. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I also think they wanted to show him being more than fair to her, so that he wasn’t the asshole in her story and it would be clear that he doesn’t deserve anything she’d done. We saw him tell her that he wants her to be happy, to show that he is a much better person than she is. She’s still trying to ruin his life, when he’s being more than fair and equitable about things. Plus the guilt is not new. He’s felt guilty about Selin since the beginning, because he knew he used Selin as an excuse to keep Eda near during the entire fake engagement period, and it led to her broken engagement with Ferit, that’s why she got away with a lot in the first 20 eps, Serkan's guilt, and she’s still playing on it. 

Also, lets remember he did give her that epic take down in 20. Which lets face it, does it get any more hurtful or humiliatingly to have your ex yell in your face that he never loved you and your childhood friend say that your friendship is over?  So I don’t entirely agree with you that he’s never done that. He has, it just took him seeing her hurt Eda to get him to act. 

You also say that he saves all his hurt and humiliation for Eda, first for most of that he had amnesia and was being brainwashed, so lets take that into account. Second, he also saves ALL his love, trust and admiration for her.  And I think that’s part of it, its the dynamics of the relationships. I don’t think Selin and Serkan really ever fought, there was no passion, there was no heat. They seemingly treated the relationship as an extension of a business relationship. Very cold and impersonal. Simply stated he rarely gets upset and angry with Selin, because he just doesn’t care. With Eda their relationship was built on passion. They spark. They argue, they like to argue. And for her, he cares more than he ever knew was possible. Falling in love and learning to be in love is part of the character’s journey on this show

It goes back to that scene in 18, where he came down a little hard on Eda. Maybe it’s not right, but from Serkan’s perspective, how he interact with them is very different because how he feels about them is very different. He said it during that conversation when Eda asked how he can be kind to Selin when she sold the shares, but discard her... and Serkan blurted out because he has never loved Selin. At that point she couldn’t inspire him to anger. But with Eda sometimes all the emotions overflows and erupts.  

Anyway, to that scene, yes it pissed me off, but I do think there is a way to justify it. Also I wonder if they watered it down and decided to save some of it since it had to be a phone conversation instead of in-person because of the death of Bige’s father?

That being said, I would have stood up and cheered if Eda said right then and there that it’s her or me. Serkan needed to be shaken out of his stooper and made to realize that they can not have Selin’s toxic presence anywhere near them and he needs to understand how hurt Eda was.  I’m hoping he just hadn’t had time to put all the pieces together yet. 

Anonymous said:Mar 21 · a day ago 1) i've seen the garage scene has been making its round across the fandom as the #1 example of how "this is not our serkan" because of he was "being cold." what are your thoughts on it? because to me.. they were literally just stress bickering and then made up. eda wasn't offended by anything, so why is the fandom tied in knots over it? isn't this what we wanted from them? for them to bicker and fight but at the end of it just BE together? i guess i saw that scene differently than most people.

I think that’s exactly how that scene was supposed to be taken. IMO it was the writer’s attempt to insert an argument (because Serkan and Eda’s relationship is always going to have arguing, and the audience loves it, so they have to find a way to give us that every so often) to get that dynamic going. 

But the problem is the narrative didn’t earn Serkan bickering with her after everything that’s happened. If you take that scene and insert it after they’ve had a heartfelt talk where Serkan has acknowledge how hurt Eda was through everything and we saw real remorse from him, then those scenes are absolutely fine. Well minus the one line where Serkan tried to dismiss her talking about things with, “Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?” That was not great. Serkan has not earned the right to shut down any line of conversation about his amnesiac behavior. 

The writers are just so BAD! They trapped them together with nothing to do but talk, this was the perfect opportunity for them to actually go deep and real and to have Eda tell him how hurt she’d been and for Serkan to really show some emotion and let us see that it hurt him that he hurt her. But they didn’t do that. 

I went back and rewatched these scenes and I enjoyed them. Hande and Kerem were great. Without the angst of expectation hanging over them, they’re good scenes. As two people under stress from a race-against-the-clock situation, stuck in a garage and arguing about that, and then making up they were fun.  It’s just that lack of emotional consistency after everything they’ve been through that is a problem. 

I have no idea why the writers didn’t have the big conversation between them. They gave hints of it. We saw Serkan offer an apology while dancing the night before and Eda shut it down. They had some tender moments in his loft, but it wasn’t enough because we really didn’t see that Serkan was hurt by how he hurt Eda.  He seemed to realize that he needed to apologize and that she was the hero and that he needed to make things up to her, but the thing that was missing was them really talking about it. And that would have been okay, Eda was exhausted, both physically and emotionally after everything, but then they should have addressed it later in the episode. 

Anonymous said: Can we talk about how the side characters actually serviced the main EdSer plot this episode? I loved that Aydan/Ayfer/Seyfi were out there trying to catch Deniz, and they still had time for an Aydan/Kemal conversation. That Alex plot did these women a huge disservice.

Yes! I agree the supporting characters were all doing what they should be doing, supporting the A-story. I enjoyed the Aydan/Ayfer/Seyfi scenes, glad they were useful!  

Plus I was actually touched by how Aydan called Ayfer in her time of need, they’ve actually become real, true friends which is a cool development. I’m looking forward to the Kemal storyline. Dude is way too interested in Serkan... I’m not sure if he’s Serkan’s father or not, but I think he thinks he might be.  Loved that Serkan’s spidey-senses were tingling when it came to him and he was on his guard... if only those spidey-senses worked with Selin. 

Melo remains queen and Ceren earned a few rights back by getting the legal in order. 

However, WTF was that random Piril/Engin storyline with the hospital? For a second there I thought this show was going really DARK. 

Anonymous said: Is it weird that the scene with Serkan apologizing to Eda in his apartment and her kind of brushing it off with the comment “you did not do it on purpose” reminded me a lot of Max trying to apologize to Liz after getting his memory back? Like you just knew that the happiness was not going to last for very long. You cannot gloss over all that pain just because the person you missed is back. Although I will say Max was a lot more apologetic than Serkan and did not act like a jerk during the rest of the episode. Feels like even if this Selin baby situation is resolved quickly that Edser still has a lot of work to do before getting married.

Oh interesting comparison, but right, Max lost his memories for about 30 minutes of screen time (vs Serkan’s almost 900) so Max had a lot less time to do damage! I was always left unsatisfied with that memory-loss storyline I think it should have lasted until the next episode, but everything with the timing in S2 RNM was a little off for me. 

But to you point about Edser having work to do before marriage, I completely agree. Although, I don’t even think it’s like they need to take a ton of time, they just have to spend some real, uninterrupted time together and talk all this through. There is no need to rush it when they haven’t dealt with any of the trauma. Like a nice two-week vacation would do them a world of good. 

Anonymous said: So are we supposed to think that Eda slept by herself on the sofa downstairs after they had sex? Not exactly romantic. Serkan’s character is still coming off very cold to me although it was definitely a lot better than previous episodes.

Not sure what that was, other than maybe (HOPEFULLY) they want to show us Edser’s carnal reunion and that episode wasn’t the place for it? Also, tbh, I assume with shooting schedules they just didn’t want to have yet another location to prep and shoot in, which the bedroom would have been, so Eda on the couch. Though I don’t know why we couldn’t have had both of them waking up on the couch like ep 11. 

Anonymous said: The whole scene at Serkan's house at night felt like such a balm to my soul after the past few episodes. Him telling her that she's the hero in their love story and he owes all the happy moments for the rest of their lives to her... whew it had me welling up. I feel like we'll get more of that guilt out of Serkan after this whole new Selin plot is unraveled, but that scene (with the beautiful music) was honestly what I NEEDED after ep 29 onwards.

Oh I’m so glad it worked for you. I enjoyed those scenes, especially on rewatch. On rewatch I could take them for what they were, but while watching the episode as a whole I was so on edge waiting for some sort of emotional conversation or breakthrough, so that was harder to enjoy.  

Hande and Kerem were terrific in them as always. I like that Eda suggested they start fresh in a place of their own, and that he immediately agreed. I liked him wanting to dance with her and hold her, and he did say some very nice things, apologizing and saying she was the hero of their story, but the scenes just didn’t go deep enough for where they were the next day with Serkan being a bit flippant at times. These scenes didn’t do enough repair work to warrant his behavior, though I do acknowledge he was under a lot of stress. 

Anonymous said: I'm convinced that these writers are here to sabotage the show. There is no other explanation. No offense to Bige but they should've just cut all of her scenes out and have Selin leave the country abruptly. We didn't need Serkan wishing her happiness, wanting her stay at Art life, and arguing with Eda over it. (what the actual fuck?) To have Bige come back to set this week to play out this pregnancy plot is unfortunate - they really could've just ditched it last minute and that makes me so mad.

The writers suck, and I need them to go like I need a giant vat of sangria while watching this show, but they are not here to sabotage the show. 

Anonymous said: I've seen some people say that the serkan now is not "our" serkan and serkan from 28.. do you agree with that? Because of COURSE he won't be the same after everything they've had to go through since then.. I think mainly people seem to think that unless he's like on his knees sobbing for Eda's forgiveness, he's not "back" which I don't agree with. Or maybe I'm just personally over the sadness and don't need a huge breakdown scene and would rather just see them move past it.

I’d take the breakdown scene. This is the man who sobbed when he found out his father was responsible for Eda’s parents death.  How has he not had been devastated by how badly he treated her? He said some very nice things in the last episode, but hasn’t offered any specific apology or explanations. It’s all been very broad and on the surface. 

Seriously, the scene could last only 3-5 minutes and be amazing and not drag down the entire show. The writers insisted on Serkan treating Eda pretty roughly for a LOT of episodes in a row, they owe it to us for him to face that and deal with it. Maybe it will happen when this Selin stuff comes to a head. 

Anonymous said: idk if i'm the only one who feels this way, but after 6 WEEKS of no edser, we get an episode full of happy (except the last 10 mins) and somehow people still nitpick the scenes? and im the first one to admit the writers have sucked all through out the memory plot, but im also not gonna just hate scenes automatically bc i hate them? if you're at the point where you can't even enjoy edser in love and together then what's the point watching? maybe i need to get off twitter after watching the ep.

First I do agree with that. Twitter after the episode is a toxic pit of joyless negativity. Also it always has been that way, even after awesome episodes. For whatever reason on that platform, people knee-jerk react to everything and it’s super unpleasant. 

As to your point about nitpicking, I agree. It’s very prevalent in fandom. Because maybe you watch something and liked it. There were a few things that weren’t great, but over all, enjoyable. Then you go online and you see people spiraling about things that hadn’t even hit you and you start thinking about them and all of a sudden something that didn’t bother you while watching is now looming large as as a huge flaw in the show. 

In a vacuum the Edser scenes were great. Lots of sweet moments, stunning visuals, H/K chemistry on full display, it’s a shame that it was all a bit disjointed while watching the first time through. The writers just can’t seem to do the big moments justice. 

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the ending? She can’t really be pregnant can she? At least not with serkans kid. How the hell are they going to solve this if bige probably isn’t in the next ep or more? :(

Well since you sent this we’ve seen the fragman. At this point, my money is on her being really pregnant with Deniz’s child (By the way, before the fragman I wasn’t sure if she was really pregnant, but if she was I was pretty sure it was Deniz)  and I still have a ton of hope that Serkan will know it’s not his, because they didn’t sleep together.

If she’s really pregnant and there was any possibility that Serkan could have been the father she would have been throwing it in his face and making a play to keep him. There is no doubt about that. The fact that she was fleeing the country and adamant that she didn’t want Serkan to know? I think it’s because it can’t be his because they never had sex and she doesn’t want him to know she was cheating on him while they were engaged. She couldn’t continue to play the victim card if he finds that out. 

Anonymous said: Selin is def not pregnant IMO. But would she have even concocted this plan if there wasn’t a good chance of eda and serkan believing it for a while? So does that mean the writers are going to make it so that Selin and serkan slept together :( would they really go there?

I think if you watch the Eda/Selin scene again you will see that Selin never says that Serkan is the father, she just says she’s leaving and she repeats again and again that she doesn’t want Serkan to know.  

As I said above if she’s really pregnant and there was any way to sell it as Sekan’s, then she would tell him right away and keep on keeping on with the guilt and manipulation.

Even if it’s fake, then she’s doing it just to try and throw one last wrench at the relationship. She told Eda not to tell Serkan over and over again. It it’s fake, maybe a Hail Mary hoping Eda will pull the breaks and potentially leave.  This woman is desperate to ruin their happiness, she would do anything even if all it does it cause upset and turmoil for a day. 

Anonymous said: I keep hoping that they would pull of one of the biggest twists in dizi history and say that these last 7 episodes were a dream. Imagine how epic that would be.

That would be amazing. Let it all be Serkan’s coma dream after the plane crash and he wakes up to Eda at his bedside.

Anonymous said: While I don’t like Eda saying no to the proposal due to believing Selin’s pregnancy story, I was actually happy that the Edser reconciliation was not wrapped up so quickly. I want them back together but had a real problem with Serkan’s attitude for most of the episode. And him allowing Selin to still work at the company and just apologize to Eda like she borrowed her favorite sweater & never returned it....like who is this guy? And being unwilling to take any blame with the Deniz situation? He needs to actually seem remorseful considering everything that Eda went through. I fear the real problem with his character is the writers which means we may never see episode 1-28 Serkan ever again 😭.

I’ve pretty much addressed all this, but, yes, I feel you. I think it’s a good thing that their reconciliation is going to take more work. Let’s hope the writers find some sort of nuance and skill and get it done! 

Anonymous said: I wish bad things on those people who came up with the rumors that we were getting new writers 💀Or the ones who keep saying that Selin will be gone in the next episode and we are coming up on #9 with her. I know it's my own fault for getting my hopes up but still lol - they are purposely extending her stay on this show to spite us, no? This is starting to feel like a personal attack 😂

I KNOW! Those damn spoiler people with their snake oil and false promises! LOL. I have believed them more than once (mostly because I wanted to so badly). That Yasin person (who lies more than he tells the truth) still insists there will be new writers. We shall see. I know more than a few hearts broke when we saw the same names wrote ep 37. 

Anonymous said: Do you ever think we’ll get our serkan (ep 1-28) back? Even though he recovered his memory he’s acting so different. In the moments when he’s not being super sweet with eda, he’s inexplicably cold or apathetic. Like when they were stuck in the garage, it was hard to believe he just dismissed her when she brought up being hurt by the memory thing. And telling her to shut up when she was worried instead of comforting her? ESP bc he knows she’s claustrophobic. And answering the phone in the end, even though that “efendim... sevgilim” was turned into a comedic bit, the way he just didn’t seem excited to talk to eda at all? Compared to their phone convos in 12(?) and 27. Idk I can’t believe he has the audacity to be 1) annoyed with eda’s lingering frustration 2) in general not be more apologetic 3) so civil towards Selin? Asking her to stay and saying he wants her to be happy? What the ABSOLUTE FUCK?

I get it, but I think you’ll enjoy the show more if you take a deep breath, realize these writers SUCK, and then try and enjoy the Edser scenes individually. They’re actually pretty good that way. It’s like what I said last week, in order to enjoy, emotionally detach yourself from the plot, and view this as an excuse to see Hande and Kerem make their magic together. 

Anonymous said: Ugh sheesh of eda doesn’t tell serkan about selins non pregnancy right away and we have to spend a whole episode with both of them hurt and serkan confused idk how I’m going to have patience to watch it through

This came before the fragman, but from the fragman it appears it’s going to take the whole episode, but I thought it looked like it would be watchable.  Seems to me Eda is not going to tell Serkan about the pregnancy. Deniz is going to tip Eda that Selin might be up to something. Cue the girls investigating. At the same time maybe Eda tips off Deniz that Selin is pregnant. Deniz confronts Selin asking if he’s the father.  Separately Serkan is trying to find out what’s going on, he finds out Selin is pregnant and the trailer is him telling Engin. I think his reaction could very well be because he’s super confused because how can Selin be pregnant when she was engaged to him but they weren’t sleeping together?? Or he’s furious because he thinks Selin told Eda that and he knows it can’t be true (at least that he’s the father).  At least we know that Serkan and Eda have a romantic night at some point...  

Anonymous said: I feel like the SCK fandom is on pins & needles waiting to find out in the next episode if Selin & Serkan actually slept together during the 3ish months they were together. Like I want Eda to be honest with him about why she turned down the proposal but then it is either a quick “we never slept together so not possible” that ends that storyline or he admits they did and we spiral into figuring out if she really is pregnant/who is the father. But if she decides not to tell him then he has to spend the episode trying to figure out what happened. Worst case scenario is her not telling him, him spending the whole episode trying to find out and then it ends with a reveal that they did sleep together & pregnancy is possible.

I’m still sticking with that they always purposefully showed us them not sleeping in the same place AND these writers have proved they are aware of the whole “Nobody touches you but me” thing. Why, out of everything, with this storyline looming, is that what he remembered if it wasn’t going to come into play?  

And honestly, I don’t want to even speculate it could go the other way, so everyone can stop asking me about that. If we have to cross that bridge, we’ll do it when the time comes. As long as there’s hope, that’s where I’m camping.

Anonymous said: damn, people were just joking about it, but selin and deniz really DID get freaky in the woods lol. no wonder the next time she visited the cafe after the trip she was all awkward about it.

She was totally awkward! And she was checking herself out in the mirror, primping, before she saw him. That’s totally when they did the ugly. 

I was cracking up today reading all the people on twitter screaming about “HOW?  WHEN?” in regards to Selin and Deniz. UM... they had ample opportunity. They were constantly meeting to discuss their nefarious plans. She was always at his coffee shop. That night at the cabin, Selin and Deniz both went away disappointed and angry leaving Eda and Serkan at the shelter, makes sense they would find cold comfort in each other’s arms. She was acting weird in the last couple of episodes like she’d almost given up and like she was disheartened by how into the sabotage Deniz still was.   Also they are side characters in the Edser show, we’re not always going to see what they’re doing. (THANK GOODNESS, last thing we need is that burned into our brains!)

[mellow-em]

Bedlam (Sam Drake)

PROLOGUE: ALL GONE 

The life she had built in only a year had disintegrated, and she was set on her stubborn mindset of finding her purpose away from Jackson. 

I DO NOT OWN ANY TLOU OR UNCHARTED CHARACTERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO NAUGHTY DOG!

(This is a tlou x uncharted crossover. It’s set in tlou universe, but its a fic between an oc of mine, and Sam! I’m not sure how this is gonna turn out so please bear with me)

Chapter 1

_________________________________

Jackson, Wyoming

______________________

His face was illegible beyond compare, signifying my speculations were true. My recollection of the previous year had felt feverish now, as if I couldn’t graze my fingers on the memories we held between each of us.

“You’re fucking lying.”

Denial.

He lowers his head, only showing the textured black hair, that glistened with flecks of grey and white. His shameful stature made my fists clench beside me. If I didn’t know any better, I would collide them with his face; a face that held floods of imperfections already.

The pitiful man that stood before me couldn’t even relay a word out into the open. He remained mute, and shook his head at the ground.

I hadn’t realised my breath was held at my throat, creating a hoarse sensation that began choking me. I was drowning in the searing atmosphere around the both of us, as it was anything but tranquil.

Regardless of my state of pure vexation though, I took it upon myself to suck in a breath of dry air, only to release it in a huff. I mirror his actions as well, bowing my head to take in the details of my shoes.

We had found these a few months back, along with some for Ellie. Her harsh aura had been flipped as soon as I presented her with the idea that we would have matching pairs of sneakers. It was the smallest of gestures, but it was done at a time of hope.

This version of hope so happened to be revived ten times greater than before, when we finally reached our goal given to us a year prior. But now, I finally realize that it was false hope.

With my reclaimed memories flooding back, a final statement replayed in my mind: If the fate of Ellie and I had looked like this before, I would have turned my back on the journey immediately.

“After everything we’ve done,” I felt the salt-tasting droplets of tears fall from my eyes, and down my reddened cheeks as I looked up at the selfish bastard I thought I knew, “after everything Ellie’s gone through, she-” I quickly lowered my head again, suffocating from my own words.

I sat myself down on the steps of his home. It had become habitual for me to reside at his place ever since we made it back to Jackson. Sitting on his porch, with a plate of food in our laps as we talked endlessly began to give me a form of peace after our horrific adventures across the country.

Now, it felt like I was stuck in a sustained deception of what I thought was a simmering hush from reality.  

With my head in my hands I let out a soft stifle of a cry, as I sat there in complete disbelief.

Then my heartbeat fastened, and my rapid movements from my anxieties stopped as I realised something.

“Ellie doesn’t know… does she?” my voice was delicate, but it still  held every sparing trace of anger sternly.

The silence continued to speak the answers for him, giving my hunch an even bigger victory. I truly didn’t want to believe this.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” I groaned in agony as I stumble off the steps, feeling the sheer pain overwhelming me.

I clutched my chest as I felt it ring itself out, creating a boulder of tension within my entire body. I stood in the middle of his lawn, hyperventilating from the truth bearing its sharp daggers deep into my frame. The world around me was spiraling out of control, causing my balance to falter slightly.

This resulted in him rushing to my aid, but we damn well knew I didn’t want it. As soon as his hand grazed my arm, I swatted it away harshly, and twisted my body to face his worrisome one.

The developing resentment I had for him was far from dwindled, staying true within my eyes as I bored my stare into his. As I looked into his hazel ones, I could see each memory through them; the good and bad.

Floods pricked at my waterline again as I stared him down. Keeping myself contained from lashing out was becoming harder with each passing minute.

That was when one final memory was displayed through his dilated pupils.

The words replayed within my head.

“Swear to the both of us that everything you said about the fireflies is true.”

“I swear.”

Actuality set in again as I felt his hands gently caress my shoulders. The touch created fumes of heat that set themselves off completely, and my exasperation manipulated my system. I hadn’t realized I had my hands clenched in tight fists again until one finally met his face. Maybe I didn’t know any better.

He stumbled back slightly, his hand jerking its way to hold his pained cheek. He now had a wave of anger across his features, with his hardened attitude spiraling as much as mine.

Only my excuse wasn’t as far fetched as his must have been.

I tried to keep a firm stance, even with the overwhelming feeling of unconsciousness threatening the adrenaline and I. 

I still kept my fists clenched at my sides, with my knuckles fading into a white color,“You’re fucking selfish, and I hope you fucking know that.”

He mimicked my demeanor, as he stepped over to me. The closer he got, his frame began to tower over me. Though if his plan was to intimidate, he should know by now that it doesn’t work on me anymore.

“I did what I needed, to save you both.” His venomous, southern tone reverberated down to me, while his words contradicted it.

“Save us? “I laughed sarcastically, with a malicious hue coating me. I began to pace back and forth in front of him as I spoke, “Is that what were calling mass murder of the innocent these days? I suppose that goes for lying and manipulation too?”

“Kate-”

“Joel.”

His name drenched my mouth in poison.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, from what seemed to be frustration, while I wiped my tear-stained face aggressively.

He brings his hand to his face once more, stroking his unkempt beard while looking away. I held my gaze on him however, draining every last second I needed to be around him for.

An uneasy feeling began to settle within the pit of my stomach; I knew exactly what it was about.

I couldn’t bear to stay here any longer. This truth made the relationship I had with him, and life in Jackson unsalvageable. There was something pulling on my arm, however.

It was the thought of abandoning Ellie, knowing damn well I couldn’t do such a thing to her without letting her know. It would haunt me.

But, I wasn’t going to sit here while people were perishing by the second. I wasn't going to pretend life could feel normal again, regardless of my urge to live in such a fantasy. It may be something I wanted, but not something I needed. 

I knew for a fact that Ellie would feel the same if she knew the truth, but for once, I wanted the kid to live in this unrealistic version of tranquility; she needed to try an experience of what her teenage years could be like, even if it’s fucked up to extremes.

It wasn’t long before my contemplative thoughts were put to rest as Joel’s voice rang in my ear. I sigh, transferring my focus onto him. I knew what needed to be done.

“Kate, listen I-”

“Ellie,” I gulp down the saliva building up in my mouth, “I need you to take care of her.”

His face was glistening with confusion now.

“And tell Tommy and Maria I said thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Kate what the hell are you on abo-”

“I’m leaving,” I direct my eyes to the mountains beyond the borders of Jackson, crossing my arms in front of me, “I should be gone long before sunrise, so.”

I glance at Joel without moving my head, and see his face noticeably falling as the words fell from my lips. Silence tore a hole within us for a short time, only for Joel to be the first to speak.

“Do I need to remind you what is out there?”

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, Joel, I can take care of myself just fine.”

I begin to walk past him fixing my attention to gathering my shit, and getting the hell out of here. Though, Joel’s hand firmly grabs at my wrist, halting my attentiveness to the steps of the house ahead of me.

I yank my arm back to its rightful place at my side, shooting him a final look.

“Goodbye, Miller. Don’t come looking for me.”

I then walk myself into the house, deserting the former smuggler out in his front yard.

____________________

The life within the town had lessened to the hidden infestations of crickets that were scattered throughout,  and the sounds of my converse crunching the textured, dirt paths of Jackson.

There was a slight alteration to the electrical systems around here, leaving the barbed wire on one section of the fence to loose its function; along with sneaking past guards, it was the perfect getaway without getting noticed. 

Before even reaching a few yards towards the fence, I remember something.  I still had one last thing I needed to do before returning to the life away from here.

I exhale a large puff of air in frustration, and turn back towards the direction I had come from. I reach into my jacket pocket, just to be sure I had what I needed.

My hands held a letter, along with a worn out, yet surprising functional cassette. As I ventured down the roads, the written prompts from the letter replay.

Ellie,

I wanted to give you a proper goodbye, but it just wasn’t possible.

I’m sure you’ll be wondering where I have run off to, and why I won’t be in bed when you go to rudely wake me up by jumping on me.

I’m leaving Jackson. I have some personal things that have been eating at me, and I need to sort them out myself.  I told Joel to watch over you, and make sure you live as much as possible.

I’m not just talking about breathing. I need you to live your life up in Jackson as much as you can.

You deserve more happiness than anyone on this earth, Els.

And speaking of, I know you loved the song I sang to you at the bonfire the first night we were here. I found this a long time ago even before I met you and Joel. Consider it a very early birthday gift from me.

I love you kiddo.

-Kit

I felt something wet trickling down my face, only for me to abruptly swipe them off my scar-stained complexion.

I soon made it back to square one, making sure I remained quiet so both Ellie and Joel continued to sleep. If it were other situations, I wouldn’t mind too much. But I couldn’t face either of them any longer, as cowardice as it is.

I twist the doorknob to Ellie’s place, begging for it to be unlocked. Luck was my side, with the handle gently twisting with my hand.

With a few swift motions, I sneak myself in, silently closing the door with delicacy so Ellie wouldn’t wake up.

Her room was just coming together from it’s appearance; her worn furniture had been disarray across the wooden floors, along with several new articles of clothing scattered throughout the room. 

My eyes wandered to the posters plastered across the walls, that I assume were freshly hung up. It was beginning to look like the small garage was home to Ellie, making my anxieties for her adjustments here less of an issue than before. 

My attention finally directed itself to her frail stature, cuddled in a bed much larger than her. If it was possible, she could get lost in a bed like that due to her small frame.

She had a quilted blanket lazily draped over her, and a wide range of pillows supporting her head. She had been facing away from me, but I knew she was sleeping with her mouth open, as I could here the loud sounds of her breathing.

I smiled, wishing I was able to stifle a laugh without releasing her from her slumber. She had always been one to leave her mouth hanging open as she slept. The result was constant bantering between me poking fun, and her becoming defensive. 

Our relationship had developed so well over time, and it had begun to feel like she was my daughter. My other half. 

My smile immediately dropped as I dragged myself back into reality, and the reason why I was even here in the first place. I needed to do this, for myself and for her. I shook my head from its thoughts, and started for the direction of Ellie. 

I made sure to walk to her bedside table as quietly as my frantic self could, hoping I didn’t disrupt her sound sleep. With each step closer to her, I held my breath, hesitant to even do this at this point. 

As soon as I make it to her, I took in the features grazed upon her round head; her large cheeks sat with a shade of pink coating them, along with her freckles overriding her paler skin. Her eyes were closed gently, with her brows flatlined.

She was so peaceful when she slept. 

I took out the letter and cassette from my pockets, gracefully placing them both on the table without a trace of a blare. 

I held my fingertips on the letter, as if I were glued to the rustic piece of paper. I was hesitating again, so it was time for a push. 

I released my hand from it, and turned to Ellie. Before I could even think, I leaned towards her, and kissed her temple weakly, and backed away. 

As I had done before I went to the door with as little sound following me as possible, and twisted the knob of the entryway. 

The door was open now, blowing the soft, night winds onto my face as if it were patches of silk. 

As a final goodbye, I mentally threw a farewell into the open, as I gazed at my surrogate daughter one final time. Before I could shed a singular tear, I rushed out of there as fast as I could, releasing the tension-building breath I had forgot to unleash before. 

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled, with my voice becoming fragile as I spoke two final words in Jackson. 

It was time to walk away. 

As I venture back towards the fence as stealthily as I could, another set of Joel’s wise words skipped on a countless loop in my thoughts.

“No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

I needed to search for my own answers, whatever they were.

This was, and still is something to fight for. 

I’m sorry.