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everythingisromant1c · 5 days ago

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p2: three reasons why you can't stand co-star!james potter

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: you were finding the first days of shooting your new TV show to be absolutely amazing, aside from the fact that you absolutely could not stand your co-star James Potter. unfortunately for you, you spent enough time around him to narrow down his most irritating qualities to only three:

a/n: hey so this took waayyy longer than i would've hoped to release, but i promise this series is not going anywhere, so tysm for all the loveee and all ur guys' patience <33

also pls pls pls feel free to send in prompt requests for this series i am so all ears

full series: Trouble in Hollywood - masterlist

1. He was insufferably good at his job

You wished you could say working with James Potter was such a challenge because he was simply bad at his job. But the thing was: he wasn't. It turned out he was really the impeccably good actor that your director Minerva seemed to swear he was, as if the talent truly was seeping through his veins. Somehow, that only made working with him more frustrating to you.

"Aaron, you've got to believe me."

James had come to you during the middle of hair and makeup and asked you to rehearse lines with him even before official rehearsals for the day's shooting began, saying it would make him feel more prepared. And, as much as you hated it, you felt the same. Your only regret was thinking you'd be able to stand him and his arrogance before seven in the morning.

"Why should I, Cassidy?"

The brunette responded to you fully in character, leaning back against a nearby vanity with his long legs crossed in front of him as you sat in your cushioned chair. He apparently got out of hair and makeup in under a matter of minutes, looking effortlessly put together with his curls hanging perfectly over his forehead—you didn't have the same luck. Your lovely makeup artist Mary seemed to be unbothered by the interruptions, continuing on with your makeup as you rehearsed your lines, though you caught her amused smile every once in a while from her reflection in the mirror.

"Because..." you began, trying to stay in character as your brain scrambled for your next line.

"You're supposed to say," cut in James, "'-because we can only trust each other right now.'"

"Please stop telling me my lines, James." You repeated the irritated request you'd uttered all morning to him as you put a tired hand to the bridge of your nose, one that Mary moved away hurriedly.

"Watch your makeup," she pleaded with a powder-filled brush to your nose , and you winced apologetically.

"Did you just want me to stand here and wait for you to remember them?" James's voice poked at you irritatingly as you stared up at him from your seat.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want." You fought from rolling your eyes. "You could at least give me a second. I didn't even ask for my line."

He raised his brows with an acquiescent sigh. "Whatever the lady wants."

Ignoring him, a skill you were growing like a muscle, you cleared your throat in focus, trying not to move too much as Mary blended some product on your neck. "Because we can only trust each other right now."

James quickly jumped back into character, right on time. "That didn't mean anything to you the other night."

"I already told you I'm sorry for that. When I heard all the rumors, I ..." you cursed at yourself as your mind drew another painful, embarrassing blank.

"-I didn't know what to think." James looked anything but guilty as his voice met your ears once again, finishing your line for you without fail.

"James!" You glared at him, doing your best to stay out in your chair and not storm out of the trailer he'd so brazenly infiltrated. You shook your head to yourself through your reflection in the brightly lit mirrors . "You're impossible."

James shrugged innocently. "I don't get why you're mad at me for trying to help."

"I'm not."

He scoffed, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. "So is this what you look like when you're happy with me?" The corner of his aggravating lips lifted along with his shoulder in a small shrug, before turning away again. "Isn't very much like how I've pictured it."

You didn't miss the way Mary let out a small breath of laughter from her nose as she switched over to doting on your hair. You gritted your teeth.

"I mean, I'm not mad at you for helping. I'm mad at you because you're annoying."

He crossed his arms defensively, his lips still quirked up, and you fought against the urge within you that had your eyes following the movement of his biceps. "I'm annoying?"

The feigned disbelief in his voice snapped your back to your right mind.

"Yes," you answered plainly. "You and your posh accent."

Maybe you'd stopped making sense, but it was too early for you to care. James was watching your meltdown with what you could only identify as merriment, his unfortunately unignorable presence taking up too much space in the cramped makeup trailer.

Thankfully choosing to ignore the part about his accent, he put up his hands innocently. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who keeps forgetting their lines."

"We just got the updated script for this episode last night." You shifted in your chair to face him, and you heard Mary wince from behind you, probably getting fed up with how much you were moving around, though you were too annoyed to stop yourself. "How the hell are you already off-book?"

James shrugged smugly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned forward. You squinted your eyes at him. "An actor never reveals his secrets, love."

You twisted your mouth in disgust at his words—because you definitely felt something as he said them, whether it was disgust or not you didn't want to think about—and probably only made him more satisfied. "Mary," you groaned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you. "I think I'm going to be sick."

She shook her head and gave your reflection a sharp look back. "Not in that freshly ironed shirt you're not."

You sighed, settling back into your chair and sparing another glance at the man to your right. He tipped his head at you, almost tauntingly, and you felt your jaw tighten. It was going to be a long day.

2. Everyone else seemed to love him

You'd been going about your Thursday innocently, filming scenes when called upon—finally having memorized all your lines properly—and somehow getting through the morning without any irritating interactions with your least favorite person on set at the moment. That good feeling, of course, could only last so long.

"What's this?"

Minerva, your director, had been walking around set with you until you both stopped at the sight of a crowd forming outside one of the sets. You followed her, making your way through the crowd of your fellow actors and crew members until you were met with a nauseating sight: James Potter.

At the sight of your director, his already proud smile grew to a beaming one, almost blinding, as he greeted her. "We've all been really busy with this week's filming schedule, Minnie, and you mentioned what a hassle it's been ordering enough food for everyone every day with our budget, so I pulled some strings and got my family's chef to cater our lunch."

Your jaw slacked as he nodded his head to his left, where a number of tables were set up with what looked like pizza ingredients, a moustached-man in a chef hat standing behind the scene proudly. You couldn't believe your eyes. Apparently, neither could the woman next to you.

"Oh my- James this is ... amazing!" Minerva—or Minnie, as James somehow had grown accustomed to calling her—turned to your co-star, expression as bright and beaming as James's crowd-pleasing smile was. "But you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble-"

"It was no trouble at all. Francis was more than happy to help."

He waved a hand at the chef, who you assumed was the 'Francis' in question, who nodded back at him happily with a pizza cutter in his hand. It was like something out of a movie, the way everyone clapped for James who stood at the front of the crowd like the beloved man he was. You felt sick to your stomach.

"What's wrong? Do you not like the pizza?"

You'd taken your lunch shamefully, making sure to hide your amazement at the endless selection of pizza toppings that James had arranged at the build-your-own-pizza station, and were sitting with Remus, who you'd met at auditions for the show and luckily got casted in a role other than one that'd gone to James, and Sirius, another one of your co-stars who you'd quickly become friends with since you spent practically all your time on set nowadays.

You looked up at Remus briefly before returning your gaze to the pizza in front of you, the perfect slice underneath the sun seeming to taunt you. "No," you grumbled. "The pizza's amazing."

Sirius chuckled. "You'd think you'd be happy about that."

"I would, aside from the fact that it was Potter who brought it in."

The black-haired man tipped his head at you curiously. "What's your problem with James again?"

You shook your head forebodingly. "Don't tell me he's brainwashed you both with his hundred-dollar pizza too."

"I doubt the pizza's that much money." Remus bit into the slice in his hand, talking through the bite. "But it is pretty delicious."

"It is," Sirius nodded. "It was pretty nice of him to cover lunch for the day. If anything, you'd think you'd like him more for this."

You groaned. "He brought in his family's private chef, for God's sake. It's not like he rescued a cat from a tree or something."

Sirius and Remus shared a look as you spoke. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you currently lacked enough dignity to care as yet another slice of pizza sat on your plate, ready to be eaten.

"James is actually a really nice lad," reasoned Sirius. "Take it from us. We kind of grew up with him."

That fact had yet to escape you as soon as you'd met the two of them. According to the stories they'd relayed to you, Remus's mum had been an on-set tutor to James growing up when he was acting in some movie, while Sirius's parents had been producers for some of James's parents' films. Safe to say, the three of them certainly left you feeling inexperienced in the world of acting.

"James should be the least of your worries," urged Remus. "He's harmless."

"If he's so harmless, then why has he gone out of his way to be a pain in my ass since I met him?"

Sirius snorted. "We said he's harmless, not that he's not an idiot sometimes."

"But," Remus added, "whatever James has done, just know that it always comes from a good place. The man doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

You sighed inwardly. The James Potter you knew seemed to be very different from the one that everyone else seemed to be familiar with, and it was driving you crazy.

3. He was an obnoxious flirt

When you said 'flirt', you not only meant that he flirted with you—unfortunately—but that he seemed to flirt with anyone in sight, whether he realized it or not. In fact, you'd been forced to watch as he smooth-talked one of the hairstylists on set for the past ten minutes.

You couldn't hear everything they were saying, thank god, but you were sure she was probably more charmed by the fact that his last name was Potter than anything he could remotely come up with to win her over. You'd had enough conversations with him to know that the movie-star smiles he offered were enough to charm people before they realized just how insufferable he was.

After what felt like hours, he said something to the woman in parting and left her looking flushed and smiley as he strolled away. You sighed, happy to finally be rid of distractions, and looked back down at the script on your lap that you were trying to memorize but stopped almost immediately as you felt an unwelcome presence lingering from in front of you. You looked up and fought a groan.

James tipped his head at you innocently. "You wanted me?"

You tensed at his phrasing and did your best to go back to ignoring him as you focused back on your script. "I did not."

Not taking the hint, as usual, he stayed put, shoving his hands in his well-tailored pockets. "Well, you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes, so I just assumed you had something to say."

"Well, you assumed wrong." You gave him a tight-lipped smile from where you sat. "And I wasn't staring. I just miraculously found it hard to concentrate on memorizing lines when you were harassing that hairstylist right next to me."

He squinted at you quizzically before shaking his head, finding your banter more amusing than you probably were. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me."

You scoffed, blinking rapidly to truly portray your disbelief. "You wish. Reality is, Potter—I think I hate you."

James peered at you with a glint in his eye like he'd never heard anything more amusing, leaning back against the wall next to you. "You think?"

You shrugged tightly. "The jury hasn't come to a decision just yet." You thought back to the unfortunately delicious pizza he'd provided, and all the things that Remus and Sirius had said to you that stood in stark contrast to practically every other experience you'd had with him.

James grinned, finding teasing you the most entertaining part of his day, even on set for a TV show. "So I still have a chance?"

His eyes glistened and you reeled. "A chance to what? Did you not hear the 'hate' part?"

"Hate is a strong word, don't you think?"

You shook your head. "Strong, but appropriate."

"Ouch." He touched his hand to his chest in that dramatic way he always did, something you blamed on his actor roots. "Your words hurt, you know." You rolled your eyes, truly trying then to get back to memorizing your lines so James would have nothing over you during filming the next day, but he didn't seem to care. "Look, I get it. You said you hate me. But really, I don't think you do."

You sighed, setting your script aside as you looked up at him with finality. "And why is that, Potter?"

"Because," James began, and you didn't like the tease in his tone as he looked down at you. "A little birdie told me you had some say in whether or not they cast me in South Bay. And that you actually encouraged it."

Your lips parted, those words being the last ones you expected him to say after weeks had gone by since the chemistry read. You didn't know who'd ratted you out, but whoever did would be getting a stern talking to. Or a partially stern one, since they were more than likely your boss.

You shrugged weakly at him. "That ... that doesn't mean anything."

James's thick brow lifted effortlessly. "So you're not denying it?"

At his challenging look, you relented with a drop of your shoulders. "I'm not. It's true; I told Minerva I think they should choose you to play Aaron becuase you are good at your job, James. As much as it annoys me. I mean, you're clearly a great actor, you get all your lines memorized overnight, not to mention the entire crew is in love with you for some reason-"

"Oh, I see."

You paused, looking at the way James's slight grin turned into a shit-eating one. "What?"

He tipped his head at you tauntingly. "You're jealous."

You let out a laugh harsher than you meant it to be. "Please. There's nothing about you I could possibly waste my energy being jealous over."

The brunette tutted, and you hated the feeling it sent through you. "For such a great actress, you're not a very good liar."

You felt your breathing shallow for a moment, not knowing what to do with the compliment that flowed so easily from his lips like he hadn't given it a second thought. You pushed the thought aside, focusing on the insult part of his statement instead, and rolled your eyes.

"Look," James continued at your expression. "Jealous or not, we're going to have to work together on this show for God knows how many more months. Years even, if it gets renewed for a second season." The thought both filled you with excitement and dread as it came from James's lips. He looked down at you with an honest curiosity. "How much longer can you go on pretending to hate me?"

You noted that what he was saying was true, letting the words sit in your chest for a moment, but you also noted that you had more fun being petty. You tilted your chin up at him. "Funny that you think I'm pretending."

James put a hand on the table you were sitting at, leaning forward slightly and making you freeze up. "Funny that you're still not a good liar, love."

Your throat felt tight with something you wanted to again dismiss as disgust at both his proximity and the delicate word that fell from his lips. You let an unpleasant pinch form between your brows. "I thought I told you not to call me that."

James felt something warm, almost giddy, form in his chest, and it didn't matter that you looked like you were considering slapping him right then. He let the corner of his lips quirk up. "You're adorable when you're mad."

"Don't call me that either." You huffed, picking up your still un-memorized script and standing. "I'm going to my trailer."

James quirked a brow, following you with only his eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

You rolled your eyes, walking away and calling over your shoulder. "Absolutely not."

taglist:

@ilovejamespottersomuch @empath-bunny @santaasi @veysxrge @bitterspoons @ladyhestiaa @rorybear14

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crimson-and-clover-1717 · 2 months ago

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The problem with reading Ed’s nod as ‘dub-con’ is the idea that consent is an event. It isn’t. It’s ongoing and can be withdrawn at any time. The nod was for us. But behind the curtain, both Ed and Stede are looking for and giving ongoing consent. What they want, what they don’t want. We are shown over and over that Stede is extremely respectful of Ed’s boundaries. We are shown that Ed is confident to assert those boundaries. Had Ed wanted to stop at any point, he knew he could do so safely. As could Stede.

Dubious consent is when an individual consents to sex because they are afraid of the repercussions if they don’t, and know they are not safe to withdraw that consent should they wish to. It’s about power imbalance. If Ed had said no, would he have been beaten up, starved, thrown off the ship, ostracised, assaulted, or watched Stede find someone else to have sex with? Would Stede have sulked and name-called, belittled and bullied? There is no power imbalance here. If there is, it’s slightly in Ed’s favour. He’s far more sexually experienced despite neither being romantically so. All of this is new to Stede. He’s going to need guidance and love and support making love to a man for the first time.

Do you know what might be classed as dubious consent? The sexual relationship between Stede and Mary. Both forced to perform within a heteronormative marriage to produce an heir as part of the hereditary principle of noblesse oblige. Mary states ‘we never would’ve chosen each other’. I’m not suggesting sex between them was abusive in any way, but they were forced to consent to a marriage they didn’t want, and therefore forced to consent to sex with a person they didn’t wish to, within the system they found themselves in. And to not do so carried consequences. That, perhaps, is your dubious consent.

None of this is true for Ed and Stede. Regret (and Ed doesn’t regret it, he’s scared) the next morning does not equal dub con the night before. Stede is devastated to even consider that Ed might regret what happened. The idea he would or could coerce Ed into sexual activity he didn’t want goes against everything we know of Stede’s character. It’s actually insulting to people who find themselves in domestic violence situations in which they do consent to sex they don’t want out of fear. Honestly, if you think Stede Bonnet is capable of that level of manipulation of the person he loves to the core of his being, or that Ed is capable of being manipulated in that way, you are not watching the same show I am; and frankly, I don’t know why you’re watching it at all.

#stede bonnet #ed teach #gentlebeard #life is messy #relationships are messy #ofmd

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the-revival-of-dionysus-sorta · 3 months ago

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PJO/HOO Hot Take -

So I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion about who’s the best godly parent, specifically father, in PJO. Most people either say Hades, Poseidon, or Apollo and imo those are all incorrect, here’s why -

1. HADES - straight up, while he payed child support (shocking), he also…

- told his only living child (Nico) that he wished he’d died instead of his sister

- has manipulated him many times, stole his and Bianca’s memories (ethics on this can be debated)

- basically did exactly what Hermes did to Luke and May but with Hazel and Marie

2. POSEIDON - didn’t even pay child support smh

- only began a relationship with Percy after he was singled out by Zeus ( + didn’t defend him in the slightest)

- only continued said relationship because of necessity

- left Sally and Percy without any defences making them turn to a literal abuser for help

- generally just a deadbeat dad, also what about his other kids? Last PJO book he admits he has like 13 demigod kids and we just..never see them? (Uncle Rick probs forgot but I’m still blaming Poseidon for continuity or smth)

3. APOLLO - while he does care about his children he also…

- wasn’t there for the funerals of any of his kids

- had never even spoken to most of his kids despite having visited camp on multiple occasions

- straight up only started fathering after being turned mortal and he wasn’t even good at it (of course people grow, I’m not hating on Apollo/Lester as a character just as a father)

Rather, the best dad in the series has been there since day 1 - Dionysus. Here’s why imo -

- Has been present in both his sons lives since birth, as well as having essentially joint-custody of them

- literally just the whole thing about Castors funeral after the titan war

- genuinely cared about them and claimed all his children without being asked (those were the only 2 he had)

- as well as making sure they were safe and cared for (aside from the war but shit happens)

- understands the issues that come with being a demigod/parenting a demigod because he was one himself

- there’s more but I have a hand cramp rn so yea

#Dionysus is best parent #*godly parent #absolutely love his character because he reminds me of family but I swear I’m not biased #ya’ll forget about the fact he was/is a father and actually takes care of his kids #probably best cabin to be in if it isn’t wartime #also his kids have madness powers and that’s fucking cool #pjo hoo toa #annabeth chase #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #RIP castor #or Pollux I can’t remember #jason grace #aromantic #dionysus #dionysus pjo

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twignotstick · 6 months ago

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Flowers for Venus

She's here~ 🩵

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I really made a lot of assumptions here, so this must be emphasized.

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Venus de Milo (TMNT), NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, experimentation, mental issues, perspective shifting, intentionally written to be confusing or leave out information at times, they are all family your honor

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): childhood trauma, abandonment issues, physical violence, repeated mentions of medical(?) procedures

Words: 6,472 🪦

Summary: Venus had one person in her life, and that was what mattered. Until she didn't.

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“I'm going to fix your body.”

The young turtle gazed up into the glass chamber before him, observing the mangled, underdeveloped, and weak body within. The vitals displayed around it were at acceptable levels; nowhere near as good as needed to survive out of the chamber, but acceptable considering the circumstances.

Not acceptable to the young turtle in front of it.

“You should be out here, learning with me. Being my sister. So I'm going to fix you.”

The turtle within the chamber did not stir- only breathed, as blood was forcefully pumped through its nonfunctional veins.

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“Huginn and Muninn helped me find more books to help you!”

Three- he had realized that the body in the chamber may not yet know his name, and so he introduced himself not long ago- bounced on the balls of his feet. He had one book clutched close to his chest, with others strewn about the workspace he had made around the chamber.

“Yokai biologists have very interesting methods! I plan on attempting some of them soon- Pops said he is going to get me some more materials before I try. He said that Witch Town will probably have what I need. The fusion of biology and mysticism is incredible! Oh! Oh! And!”

He dropped the book that he was holding on the floor carelessly, tripping over his own feet as he ran over to a table to show the body's closed eyes another. This one was thicker.

“Muninn says that this one was written by a human! ‘Mary Shelley’. It's called ‘Frankenstein’. I believe that's a name too- the surname of the main character. I haven't read it yet, because I haven't had time to. However, maybe with your improved cognitive function as of recently, it could be beneficial for me to read it to you!”

Three got no response, but he could have sworn that a part of the body's brain scan spiked.

“I can't start now. I have to finish my work on the developmental errors in your lower arm, but as soon as I finish that and find what I need to find, I'll start! I'm really curious about human literature.”

Three got to work, as the mind within the chamber grew curious.

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She didn't quite know what time it was, but she knew what was supposed to happen at this time. The voice was supposed to make noises in the room- Three, that was his name- and he was supposed to talk to her. Her? She thought that sounded right.

Three had told her about pronouns. He had said that since she was biologically female, it was assumed that she would go by she and her. Just like he was male, and went by he and him.

He had said that her name was Five.

Even so, Three liked calling her Vee, justifying it with the reason that they “matched”. Five didn't quite understand where the name came from; perhaps how her name was spelled? F-I-V-E, that was what Three had told her. T-H-R-E-E, that was his. But he spelled Vee as V-E-E. Maybe that's why they matched. Both had two E's in their name.

Their names were numbers too. One, two, three, four, five. She wondered why she was Five, and he was Three. Where were One, Two, and Four? Were they there, but she couldn't hear them? Was Pops another name for One? Pops and One weren't anything alike. She wished she could ask all the questions she had in her mind.

She wished she could see. Maybe that would explain why Three hadn't spoken yet.

Just when she was starting to believe that he may not speak to her this time, Three made noise. She couldn't see, but he stumbled through the door and sat down in a chair near her with a smile on his face. He looked at her, she could feel it.

“I'm sorry I'm home late, Vee. I met a new friend today! But don't tell Pops. He's a human.”

Five knew that word. Weren't those bad?

“Timothy isn't like other humans, though. He's nice! He showed me some insects and told me their names. Surface bugs are very different from normal ones! I think I might ask Huginn and Muninn to retrieve me some books on surface entomology. I can tell them that it's biological research.”

Entomology. That's a big word. What does that mean?

“Entomology means the study of insects, by the way. It's a very interesting branch of science. Timothy said he has books that tell him the names of different insects at his house. Oh, and a house is where humans usually live. Not a lab, like we live in. Or… a glass chamber, like you live in! Though, technically your chamber is within the lab.”

The lab. She wondered what the lab looked like.

“I think that I may be able to replace your eyes soon. I've been developing a prototype, hopefully it shouldn't take me too long to finish! From there, I just have to work really hard to get your other physical errors fixed, and then you can come out here! Maybe I can even bring you to meet Timothy!”

Timothy. That was a nice name. Not as good as Three or Vee, though. They matched. Though, maybe Timothy matched too. She didn't know how to spell Timothy yet.

Maybe they could match anyway.

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Three stumbled in today. Vee couldn't see it, of course, but Three had tripped, holding in tears. His chest just wouldn't stop hurting. Pops had said he could walk it off, so that is what he tried to do.

He couldn't walk much longer, falling to the floor in front of Vee's chamber. She enjoyed hearing the sound of his breathing, but she never liked it when he breathed this heavily. That meant he was hurt and crying. That meant Pops had done an experiment or a test. That meant Three didn't have the power to work on her body. He would always apologize for that. Of course, that never stopped him. She always heard him working.

“...V-Vee…”

That is her name. He loves to remind her of that.

“M-maybe…” Three gasped deeply, holding the breath for longer than he should before slowly releasing it. “Maybe if… I finish you… he w-won't do this to m-me anymo-ore…”

Vee couldn't feel his eyes on her. Until she could.

“I've shown him y-your guts alr-ready, though… maybe he won't won't w-want to v-vi…vivi…”

That's not how he's supposed to say her name. It's Vee.

“...Vee? Vee~”

That's right.

“Veeveeveevee…”

Is that right?

The mumbling of her name faded away, turning into slow rasping breaths.

She didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore.

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“I want to make you as strong as One is. Or, at least, he should be. I haven't met One. Or Two. Or Four. But Pops says that it's impossible for you to be that strong. You're a box turtle, designed for defense. Anyhow, it's more important that I develop your muscle mass enough for you to stand independently first.”

Vee wondered what One, Two, and Four sounded like. Maybe their voices were jumpy and squeaky like Three's was now. Maybe they were sweet, like his was before. She wondered what Pops sounded like.

“Four is a box turtle like you. He developed properly, but don't feel bad! He got stolen away, so really, he got the short end of the stick! You're living the life of luxury.”

So many types of turtle. Did that mean they couldn't match anymore?

“I showed Timothy some sketches of my work with you. He got this really weird look on his face, and I thought he might not believe that I could fix you. But, he promised that he did believe in me! And he said he can't wait to meet you!”

Surely, he was just jealous of Three's hard work.

“I'm still working on your eyes. They're causing me more problems than I thought they would, but I think I'm getting closer to a functional product! It's just taking a while to find a good base that can survive the transfer.”

Eyes. One more sense. He taught her the five: touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. She had hearing- or at least, she believed she did. She didn't know what else this could be. To have two senses would be marvelous.

Three's voice went away, leaving a rubbing sound. He had told her what that was. It meant he was “rubbing his hands together”. It was a “nervous habit”.

“Pops told me… he told me that talking to you was ‘fueling my delusion’. I know that, logically, you're comatose. Your body isn't supposed to work right now, for the sake of your life.”

That made sense. She was hurt. Three said that if she came out of her coma as she was now, she would die. Dying wasn't a good thing.

“But I really want you to hear me. Even subconsciously. So- so that way, when you do wake up, we'll already be friends! A-and you'll already know so much about me, so I just need to know about you!”

That sounded nice. Vee wanted to tell him about herself. Maybe she'd know just what that meant by the time she got the chance.

“I promise I'm going to fix you soon. It'll be no problem!”

Vee liked that.

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

Three was hurt and crying again. But this time, he didn't come to collapse by her chamber. He was far away, in the workspace. Vee didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore. Three had said that hurt could mean dying. Three couldn't die yet. Vee still had to tell him everything about herself.

He wasn't even saying her name this time. He was saying the human's. He was hard to hear, so quiet, so far.

Timothy.

I'm sorry, Timothy.

What does that mean?

I'm so, so sorry.

What does that mean, Three?

Please, Tim.

Three?

Please forgive me.

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

Three?

Three, please. She wants to understand. She wants to know you.

I want to know you. Talk to me, please. Tell me everything. Tell me about Mary Shelley. Tell me about entomology. Tell me about One. Tell me about Two. Tell me about Four. Tell me about Pops. Tell me what you're working on. Tell me how you want me to be better already so I can hold your hand and talk back. Let me hold your hand.

Tell me what's wrong.

“---ee? Vee, I'm ---y, I'm here, plea--- calm down. I'm here, please. Do I need- do I need to sedate her? I-”

He's not crying anymore. He's talking to her.

“Vee? Five?”

That's right.

“Should I read to you? W-Would you like that?”

She would.

“P-progress report 13. May 23rd. It happened today. Algernon bit me.”

Flowers for Algernon. Surface literature. Of course he would read surface literature now. He was just thinking of Timothy.

Every time Three would read this specific story to her, he would explain that the first few progress reports were intentionally written with poor spelling and grammar. He would spend the whole time explaining the correct way to write the sentences, up until the writing became legible. Then, when the writing returned to its sorry state, he would resume his corrections.

“I visited the lab to see him as I do occasionally, and when I took him out of his cage, he snapped at my hand.”

Vee knew the end of this story.

“I put him back and watched him for a while. He was unusually disturbed and vicious.”

It never ended nicely. They always had to die.

“May 24th. Burt, who is in charge of the experimental animals, tells me that Algernon is changing.”

She didn't want anyone else to die.

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

Something was different. Where once there was a lack of anything, now there was something. Something Vee didn't have the knowledge to understand just yet. She couldn't understand light. She couldn't understand color. Now, it was right in front of her.

A blur of a color she didn't know the name of, green, with a dash of another, purple. Three's voice came from it.

“Eyelids are open. Should be working. Just one last test-”

Three grabbed a small blur- a silver flashlight- and shined it into her eyes. Her muscles instinctively tried to close her eyelids, but there just wasn't enough power behind it. They stayed open enough for Three to see the pupils constrict.

“Yes. Yes! YES! They work! Yes!”

Three sounded happy. That was good. Maybe he looked happy, too. Vee didn't know what happy looked like yet.

“...I have to show Pops. I have to show Pops! Wait! Stay right there!”

Three left the room, and Vee thought deeply. “They work”. Three had said that her eyes “didn't work yet” before. So that must mean that they work now. That meant that she was seeing. This was what she had been looking forward to ever since Three had attempted to explain the abstract concept of seeing.

This was it.

Those colors. The nameless ones that she didn't know- the ones she didn't even know how to identify as colors- that was Three. That was the face of the voice who had been her only comfort for all of time. That was the face of the person she wanted to comfort. The voice that she heard crying and hurting. The person she wanted to hold the hand of.

The door to the room opened again, and Three returned with a taller figure. Vee had never heard him before, she was sure of that when he got close for her to hear his breathing. Maybe she could have seen him before. He was tall, and covered with new colors. She couldn't name them, but they were gold, blue, and magenta.

“Look! Look! Her eyes are functional now! They constrict and dilate! Watch!”

Three held the light to her eyes once more, and her pupils shrank again.

The new voice only grunted.

“She's so close to completion now! Th-there are only a few more developmental errors, and she just needs a little more muscle mass-”

The tall figure lashed out at Three, as another color, magenta and pink, writhing, latched around Three's throat. He was held off the floor, just a few feet. His happy breathing stopped.

“You have obsessed over this project for too long. Your progress has been agonizingly slow, and this is what you have to show for it?”

A new voice. Deeper. More menacing.

Pops.

Three gasped for air, trying to respond.

“I suppose I must also involve myself. Your inefficiency up to this point will not be forgotten.”

The writhing mass slammed Three into the floor as the tall figure walked away, shutting the door behind himself.

Three heaved shaky breaths from his spot in front of Vee's chamber. He almost sounded like he was crying and hurting.

Was this what crying and hurting looked like? Curling over yourself? Was that what she was doing? She was supposed to be hurting. She didn't think she was crying, though. Could you hurt and not cry?

Could you cry and not hurt?

Three moved onto his knees, placing one hand on the glass. His face looked different, as if the light reflected off of it differently. His eyes looked at her. For the first time, she could feel and see it.

“I'm going to get you out soon. Then… then you can be here with me. And Pops will be proud. And I'll have you, my sister. Forever, and ever, and ever. And no one will take you from me.”

Three smiled, leaning against the glass and falling asleep.

That sounded nice.

-----------🕷️-----------

“What is this?”

Vee stood over Three at his workbench, looking down at the sketch he was working on. It looked familiar, like other ones he had made, but the notes around the margins were different.

“Oh, it's another collar for Big Mama. She has someone joining the Nexus who has some immunity to electricity, so I have to work on an alternative design…”

“How does it work?”

Three looked up at Vee as she smiled softly. She loved doing this. Getting him talking about the things he knew about.

“Okay, well, since the regular electric shock won't result in what we're going for, I have to find another method of keeping the fighter in line. So- so this collar is designed to tap straight into the nerves in the neck- focusing mainly on the more secondary nerves, but also creating a pathway to the spinal column if needed. With this, the nerves can be pinched all at once, effectively paralyzing the wearer!”

Vee looked over the sketch, resting a hand on the desk next to it. “And why is this collar shaped so differently?”

Three brightened again. “Oh, well, for one, to create a visual distinction that makes it easier for Big Mama to know what type of collar it is. But also, because the specific yokai has… no neck? Sort of? They have shoulders, but it would be somewhat easy for them to slip a standard collar off. So, alternative design! And this one can be green.”

“Very good. I'm sure Mother would appreciate the change in aesthetic.”

The stone in her pocket began to glow.

“Speak of the Devil, I suppose.”

Five slipped her mask on quickly, then answered the call. “Hello, Mother.”

“Turtley-boo! Hello! Where are you, my dear? I couldn't find you!”

“I had to deliver this week's recording to Three. I'll be returning home shortly.”

“I would hope so! Everything here is always such a tissy-tassle when you're over at that terrible place. Oh, do come home quickly, please. Your mama is getting lonely.”

Vee looked to Three, and they exchanged a soft look, even behind Vee's emotionless mask. “I'll be there in a moment, Mother.”

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

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

She was supposed to be worried about being taken from him.

What could she do, now that he was taken from her?

Four was gone. Then Two was gone. Vee thought, surely Three wouldn't be that dumb. Three was smart. He cared about her. He wouldn't leave her.

So where was he now? On the surface, living with rats and humans.

And she was left behind. Stuck under the thumb of a spider that claimed to be her mother. Forced to witness the violent aftermath that had come when Three disappeared, as Lord Draxum berated her and her mother for letting Three get such delusional thoughts in his head. Ideas that made him weak and stupid. Hopes that his family cared for him.

But he left his family, didn't he?

She was supposed to be his sister.

And he left, in search of a family that didn't even know his name. His face. His voice. That voice was supposed to be hers. The one who took care of her. The one that fixed her.

Draxum may have caused her birth, but Three gave her life.

Didn't that matter to him?

She had been so scared of being taken from him, Vee didn't even consider the idea that he may be taken from her.

Fighting against him was something from her worst nightmares.

This couldn't be happening.

This was all wrong.

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

Empty apologies.

He left, all because of a stupid dream he had been chasing. He left the family he had because of some dumb idea of a family that he had romanticized in his head. He left her.

Maybe he never cared about her anyway. She was just a toy to pass the time.

She wasn't real, anyway. Just a monstrous body given life.

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

“Hi, Vee!”

Four approached her, sitting down cross legged on the floor beside her. He examined the blade she had been sharpening with an odd fascination.

“Where'd you get that?” He asked innocently.

“From Mother.”

Four straightened. “O-oh. Guess I shoulda… guessed that, huh?”

“Maybe.” Of course he should have. Who wouldn't recognize one of Big Mama's weapons?

“Hmm…” Four rocked back and forth, holding his feet. “Do you feel alright with me calling you Vee? I know that's what Donnie calls you, but I know he has like… a thing with names.”

“I’m Five,” she said bluntly, looking up at Four for a moment. “But I don't mind being called Vee.”

“Cool!” Four smiled, almost as sweetly as she remembered Three doing. “What's it short for?”

Vee paused and looked back up at Four. “Sorry?”

Four blinked. “...Vee. What's it short for?”

She squinted. “It stands for the roman numeral for Five. It isn't ‘short’ for anything.”

“Oh. Well, that's not right.” Four shook his head disapprovingly. “You need to match with us!”

That made Vee think. “Match?”

“Yeah!” Four shifted to sit on his knees. “See, cause I'm called Mikey. That's short for Michelangelo. He was a human artist in the Renaissance. And Raph is Raph, short for Raphael. And Leo is Leo, short for Leonardo. And Donnie is Donnie, short for Donatello!”

Vee put her blade down on the ground, giving Mikey all of her attention. “So they match because they're all artists?”

“Well, and since they're from the Renaissance, and since we've all got nicknames!” Mikey grinned. “Do you… want a name that matches with ours?”

“Yes.” Vee answered before she could really think about what she was saying. “I-I mean, I don't really need one, but-”

“Sweet!” Mikey patted his hands on the ground. “Now, what names could work… Genevieve? No, that would be Jenny… Vivian? Nah, that's not good enough. Oh!”

“What?”

“Well, I know all of our names are from artists, but, uh, what if your name was from a piece of art?”

Vee thought for a moment. It was certainly true that she wasn't like the other turtles. Obviously, her name would have to reflect that.

Though, maybe being a work of art wouldn't be so bad.

“Sure. But tell me the name before I agree to anything.”

Mikey's expression suddenly shifted to a more serious one. “Of course. How about… Venus de Milo?”

Venus de Milo.

“...what is it?”

“It's a statue from ancient Greece. She sorta got her arms ripped off, but she's still incredibly beautiful and detailed, and a very widely known masterpiece! Wait, lemme see if I've got internet-”

Mikey fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to gather some internet signal in the depths of the Hidden City. Meanwhile, Vee simmered in the thought. A statue, broken, never to be truly as it was before. And yet, it was beautiful, not just because of what it still had, but because it had lost. It had persevered. Because something so beautiful was never truly perfect. That was what allowed it to be beautiful instead.

Maybe that beauty made it perfect, anyway.

“I like it.”

Mikey's eyes flitted up from his hunch over his phone. “Oh? Great!” He corrected his posture. “How ‘bout you try it out? Introduce yourself to me!”

Vee cleared her throat, checking her own posture out of habit. “Hello, Michelangelo. My name is Venus de Milo. You may call me Vee.” She extended her hand for a handshake. Mikey met it vehemently.

“Perfect! Now, you match with all of us! Man, the teamwork and collaboration on this mission is gonna be on point!”

Venus smiled, turning the interaction around in her head.

Maybe she could be a masterpiece.

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

Donnie loved to talk. Vee always knew that. But, for too long, she had never noticed how much he loved to be listened to; to have another directly engaging in the conversation. Once she learned that, she learned that she had a love for listening.

It was sometimes hard for her to understand her own wants without comparing them to the wants of others. She loved to listen because Donnie loved to talk. She loved to spar because that made Raph happy. She loved to ask questions so Leo could explain the nonsensical movies he showed her. She loved to eat because Mikey loved to cook.

But right now, none of that really mattered. Donnie was talking, and Vee loved to listen.

“Splinter told me that I could make him, as long as I make sure he doesn't turn, like, evil or anything. Though, honestly, if a robot uprising were to happen, I think it would be smart to just accept fate.”

Donnie was cleaning up some sort of schematic on a bean bag as a movie played on the TV. Vee sat next to him, not paying attention to the film at all. Screams about hot food went in one ear and out the other.

“So these are the plans you have so far?”

“Exactly!” Donnie brightened, then slumped as he came to a realization. “He's actually based on a design I made before you got out of your chamber. P-... Draxum destroyed that one, though.”

“Oh.” Vee slumped a bit as well. “I wish I could have seen it. Maybe I'd be more helpful now with these designs.”

“Uh, y-you don't have to worry about it!” Donnie waved his arms frantically. “It was my fault you were stuck in there anyway.”

“No it wasn't.” Vee looked at him blankly. “It was Lord Draxum's fault. He made me faulty. You helped me. You fixed my body.”

Donnie flustered, scratching at his neck. “W-well, not really. I didn't even-”

“You gave me my eyes. You gave me purpose.”

He looked at his sister, hands shaking almost invisibly where they gripped his sketching paper. Something strange came to his eyes- a shimmer, one that she knew. “I-I'm-”

“If you say you're sorry one more time, I might just rip your tongue out.”

“But I am! In more words than I can say, I am! You cared about me so much, and I just left you without a second thought. No apology I can give can ever make up for that.”

Vee sighed, shaking her head, looking at Donnie with tired eyes. “You're right.”

Donnie's nervous energy evaporated and he stilled.

“No apology will ever be enough. When you apologized to me, I didn't forgive you. When you apologized to me, I hated you.”

Venus paused, questioning whether or not she should continue. When Donnie gave no reaction, she decided to.

“When you tried to explain what had happened, I hated you. When you asked for my help, invited me in, told me you wanted me back, I hated you.”

Genuine tears started to well up in custom built eyes.

“B-because… because I couldn't believe you. You left me, and that was what was real. That was what mattered.”

Donnie took a breath in, as if to add something, but ultimately decided against it.

“Part of me still doesn't believe you.”

Months of worrying. Months of waiting. Months of simmering in hatred for the one person she had convinced herself she could trust. Months of wondering, “Would he have stayed if I had been better?” Months of unbridled rage towards her creator, who couldn't have waited just a little longer to make her right. Months thinking of her other so called “brothers” who stole her brother away.

He said no one could take her from him. So why would he throw her away?

“But you showed me otherwise.”

She never knew how to put these things into words. There was something difficult about bringing her thoughts out in that way. Because of this, she could never really tell Donnie how it felt when he first showed her that room he had prepared, which he left mostly empty for her to decorate herself. She could never explain how it felt when Splinter traced her stitches, complimenting how wonderfully they framed her features. She could never properly thank Raph for expressing his admiration for her fighting style. She couldn't express the joy she felt when she saw Leo do something that would make him feel embarrassed hours later. She could never say anything more than “It’s great” when eating one of Mikey's meals, one that should make a food critic cry.

“So you don't need to apologize anymore. You showed me how you cared, and that's all that matters now.”

Vee grabbed Donnie's hand, and the two shared a wordless understanding.

You can cry and not hurt.

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

Vee woke up to the sound of someone else moving around the lair. All of her brothers were still covered in blankets around her, and a blank tarp hung on the wall stood in front of her that she vaguely remembered watching a projected video essay on before she fell into slumber. There was only one person missing from the scene…

As she pushed herself to her feet and walked into the hall, Vee came face to face with a still bonnet wearing April.

“Oh, morning, Vee!” April greeted energetically. “What're you doing up already?”

“This is a normal time to wake up, isn't it? You're awake.”

April hummed. “I guess you're right. I'm just used to the guys sleeping in super late. You hungry?”

Vee nodded, following April silently into the kitchen. Just a short time ago, she would have wanted to cut April's head off, purely because of her human existence. Now, she felt a strange, foreign comfort around the human. Not quite like she felt with her brother, or her other brothers, but something akin to it.

April started loading up the toaster, grabbing some spreads and setting them out on the counter.

“Got any plans today, Miss Milo?”

Vee chuckled. “It's Miss de Milo, and, uh, no. You got any plans, Miss Neil?”

April laughed in turn. “Actually, I do. And since you don't have any, I was hoping you might help me out with mine.”

Vee nodded, letting her continue.

“I brought some stuff from my place to do a spa day, slash makeover day. Figured you might want to join in.”

Vee thought for a moment. “I know what a spa day is, but what is a ‘makeover’?”

“Well, it's like,” she hesitated, “it's when you put on a ton of makeup and wear fancy clothes and stuff. Not because you're not pretty, but it's just… it's a way of making yourself feel good, y'know? You've worn makeup before, right?”

“No.” Vee shrank slightly. “Mother said that it would be a lost cause. That's why she gave me the mask instead.”

“Oh.” April shook her head, scrunching her nose. “Oh, no, no. That's not gonna work. You are going to be pampered, Miss de Milo. That is an order.”

April strode out of the kitchen, and Vee followed slowly behind. Before she could see where April had gone, there was the telltale sound of a pillow being thrown into someone's face.

“Owf- wha- hey! What was that for?” Leo grumbled through the grogginess of waking up.

“We've got a busy day ahead, boys! Gotta eat breakfast so we can get to work!”

“Busy day?” Mikey asked, slightly more cognizant than Leo. “What are we doing?”

“Makeovers. All of us!”

Vee finally caught sight of April in the hallway of the living room as she saw Donnie jumping up from where he was laying. “Are we gonna do nails?!” He shouted excitedly, running up in front of April. “Can I pick the colors?”

“Of course you can, bud. Just go eat some toast first,” April responded, patting his shoulder.

Donnie hurried to the kitchen followed by his brothers, who were all still wiping the sleep from their eyes. After that, breakfast went quickly.

Raph drug a stool into the bathroom in front of the mirror, where Vee was instructed to sit. Soon, she was surrounded by her brothers and April, with a large makeup bag in the human's hands. She put the bag down on the counter, taking out a liquid foundation in the perfect hue for Vee's skin.

“Where do you even find this stuff? Party City?” Leo asked, taking out another foundation from the bag that matched his own skin.

“No,” April scoffed, preparing her workspace, “I get it online. Its makeup, not face paint. It just happens to be green. Are you complaining?”

“No, ma'am.” Leo quickly shut himself up.

“Good. Now, let's get some jobs set straight.” April started gesturing to the brothers one by one. “Donnie, you're in charge of picking colors out, and themes. Mike, you're executing Donnie's ideas, because his hands are way too shaky. Raph, my bag's in the other room, go pick something out. You'll know what I mean when you get there. And Leo, you're in charge of music and talking. Tea spilling, gossip, whatever.”

All of the turtles nodded in response, and Raph walked out to find April's bag.

“Now, Vee.” April put her hands on Vee's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “You just sit here, close your eyes, and relax. We've got it all handled.”

“Okay.” Vee hesitated, closing her eyes slowly, before shooting them open again. “Wait!”

April hummed, hovering the makeup sponge she had prepared in the air.

“Can you, uh… can you leave my stitches? Not cover them up, I mean.” She couldn't help casting a glance at Donnie, who gave a timid smile.

April relaxed. “Course, Vee. Now, close your eyes and let us work our magic!”

Vee complied, and she found herself surrounded by sounds. A strange nostalgia filled her chest.

“What we thinking, D?”

“How about, uh… this?”

“Ooo! Perfect! Can I get, uh… that one first?... Thanks! Okay Vee, I'm gonna grab your hand now. It's gonna be cold!”

“What am I supposed to even talk about? I don't have any tea.”

No need for sight. Hearing those voices, comforting her. With a slight drone of music alongside.

“How about your date with Usagi?”

“Wh- April! It wasn't a date!”

“Hey! No shoving! This is a delicate art, Leo!”

“Ugh, fine.” Another shove.

“Hey! No shoving me either! I didn't even say anything!”

“Yeah, but April's busy, Mikey's busy, and you gave me a weird look.”

“I gave you a normal look. You obviously went on a date. Vee, you know?”

Vee laughed just a bit, trying not to move and disturb April's work. “Donnie's right. It was pretty clearly a date.”

“No, it wasn't!”

“Just tell us what you did, Leo.”

Unlike before, she had other senses. But somehow, removing this one made her feel comfortable. Knowing that someone else was taking care of her felt so good.

When she felt Donnie's scar covered, calloused hand grab onto hers, the comfort felt warmer.

“We didn't even-”

“Hey, April? How's this one?”

“I think it's great, but how ‘bout you ask Mister Manicure?”

“Oh. Mike?”

“That's perfect, Raph! You got any accessories?”

“Maybe in my room… lemme go check.”

The sound of heavy footfalls walking away.

“Alright, I'm gonna be working on your eyelids, so it's gonna feel a little weird. Just try to stay loose.”

“Ooo, you are gonna look so good!”

Vee allowed the sound to envelop her entirely.

“Listen, we didn't go on a date, we aren't even a thing anyways.”

“I'm going to fix your body.”

“Usagi would be very hurt it he heard that. You wanna tell him, D?”

“You should be out here, learning with me.”

“I can text him right away-”

“NO!”

“Being my sister.”

“Just admit it, Leo! You're down bad for the bunny!”

“He still hasn't admitted that?”

“No, Raph! Because I'm not ‘down bad’!”

“So I'm going to fix you.”

“Okay, keep the volume down. I gotta concentrate…”

Time passed shapelessly. Vee interacted in the conversation when asked, but otherwise, she let the noise flow over herself. Before she knew it, she was being told to stand up and having fabric pulled onto her arms, with a ribbon being tied over her shell.

“Okay, okay, just a few more touches-”

“You've been doing ‘a few more touches’ for five minutes, Donnie. She looks great!”

“SHH! Don't rush perfection, Nardo.”

Vee blushed. “You really think I look perfect?”

She felt Donnie's eyes on her. “You always have.”

Mikey awed. “Okay, okay, okay, now you can look!”

Vee opened her eyes, just as Donnie moved to the side so she could see herself in the mirror. She saw that the fabric put on her was a dress, very light blue and with flowery embroidery patterning on the bottom of the knee-length skirt. Her claws were painted with pastel colors, with a light blue backdrop behind white daisies, each having an undertone of a different color: reddish-pink, blue, orange, purple, yellow, and green. On her face, a soft blue eyeshadow was put on her eyelids, with small painted daisies incorporated into her eyeliner. Similar flowery bows were placed down the length of her braided mask tails. Donnie quickly shuffled behind her to put a necklace on her neck, with a daisy shaped pendant.

Vee found herself speechless, staring at the stranger that had been pulled out of her own skin.

“Is it alright?” April asked hesitantly.

As she rubbed her lips together, Vee forced herself to look up at the ceiling. She waved her hands at her face.

“Oh- Oh! Its waterproof! You're good!”

“It is?!” Vee squeaked, struggling to hold herself together.

“Yeah, yeah, it is!”

“That's s-so cool!” Vee finally let her tears loose, still waving at her face while nervously laughing.

“You like it? Do you like the flowers? It was Donnie's idea!” Mikey asked, beaming as bright as the sun.

“Yes! Yes, I do, thank you!” Vee paused in her flapping to look over her hands again, and the dress, and her face.

Her flowers.

When she looked to Donnie, he looked as if he couldn't be happier.

“Well that's good, cause they cost me my dignity,” Leo groaned, despite the smirk on his face. “By the way, I call next.”

April patted his shell. “Alright, Leo. We'll make you pretty so you can look good for Usagi.”

“Great, because I- Wait! HEY!”

Vee was laughing loudly now, wiping her tears delicately with a single finger. The argument slowly turned back into background noise, as Leo sat on the stool instead, squabbling far too much for April's liking. Donnie recruited Vee for color picking and inspiration searching.

And so Vee let herself exist there, not worrying about mattering or being wanted. Not worrying about if the one she cared about was hurt or crying. Not longing for another sense to experience the world with. Not questioning if she may be taken away for good. Not asking if she really had a family. Not wondering if she did something wrong, or if she even had the right to call herself alive. Not waiting for someone to talk to her.

She had her flowers, and words could never compare.

○●○●○●○

Finally, she is here. I went a little wild on this. There are just so many parts of Vee's story that I can't wait to see. She's my little brainworm 💖

I'm glad that I can get this out before the @tmntaucompetition ends, especially since EW is in the finale. Go vote for them!!! I love them so dearly :)

I'm going to edit the first chapter of my own iteration, (currently titled Second Shot), and post that soon. I simply must get my boys out into the world, especially after discovering @dluebirb's TMNT AU family reunion. Lord knows they need friends.

GO VOTE IN THE TMNT AU COMP! AAH!

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

#tmnt #tmnt au #rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #tmnt au propaganda #tmnt separated au #fanfiction #fanfic #twig writes

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maeedrg · 15 days ago

Text

Satoru, Oh Satoru

Y/n’s goodbye letter

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which you write and send a letter to your ex fiance, Gojo Satoru, before his deathly battle with Sukuna. Broken promise, he wishes to see you again, the love of his life, one last time before it’s too late. [The letter is the Mary’s goodbye letter to Arthur Morgan from RDR2]

Words count : 2k

Warnings : heavy angst, slight comfort, major character death, spoilers of the end of the manga, reader is called « wife » once.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I love Red Dead Redemption 2, and the letter of Mary is haunting me. It’s been weeks since I wanted to write about it, so here we go, with Gojo instead of Arthur Morgan ! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

“My dear Satoru,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Satoru, oh, Satoru. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for leaving you. There's a vulnerable man within you, Satoru, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant, wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free. So please, win, and come out alive.

Goodbye.

y/n”

Are those water drops ?

Satoru blinks once, twice, before realizing that tears roll down his rosy cheeks and wet down the paper. He slowly opens his mouth in a shuddering breath, knuckles tightening against the letter he was holding in his hands. He is crying, Gojo Satoru is crying. Heavens know that this man almost never cried since the day he was born. But the way his heart was hurting so much, each breath being a stabbing inhale, as if a dag was slicing open his lungs and cutting into pieces his poor sweet damaged heart, confirm it. Yes, he cries. He cries this forgotten moment, he cries you, he cries your love, lost in the nostalgia he feels.

The Strongest, no, Satoru, never thought he would lose the love of his life twice. The first time was when you left him years ago, three more exactly, and God it was his own damn fault. He knows it more than anyone else, more than you.

The second was today, when he opened this letter you sent him and read it 5, 6, 12, 23 times. Hell, at first he thought he was hallucinating when he received it this morning. Why ? Why today ? The day he was supposed to have no single regrets, because he knew it would be the last time he would be on earth. He prayed that you forgot about him, hated him, cursed him in your soul forever, so he could die without your and any regrets.

23rd of December. Tomorrow, it will be the 24th. Please, please, please. He doesn’t want to die now. Will he really win ? That was just a sentence said to reassure himself, to convince his students and his own heart that everything will be alright. But the “what if” came along, and he ended up writing letters to his students in case he would indeed lose tomorrow. Including you. His long lost love. His ex fiance.

But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t expect you to send him one before he could even finish writing yours.

That hurts, so damn much. Was he even breathing anymore ? He didn’t know. But he had to breathe, everyone wanted him to breathe and to stand up. They needed him. Everyone needed him. But all he wanted, in the end, was for you to need him. Even if he told you the contrary years ago. That was all a lie, to you and himself. Satoru made you leave him, but that was for your sake.

Marrying The Strongest meant having a deadly bounty on your head, the end of your peaceful love, and maybe the end of your own life. He never really regretted what he did, he preferred for you to be safe and sound, away from him. Even if he missed your pretty eyes, your oh so sweet lips, the warmth of your soul and the comfort of your arms.

But now, some hours before his last day on earth, he regretted it more than anything. In the end, he would have wanted to spend his last years in your company if it meant having this kind of death. God, he could have called you his wife. He wasn’t dumb, Satoru was far too smart for his own good. Tomorrow will be his last. There was no need to be delusional about it, but it hurts. It hurts so much. More than he wanted it to be. The Strongest never gets hurt, after all. Because he doesn’t allow it to happen.

He kisses the ring, the engagement ring, he gave you years ago before you returned it to him in this letter. He slowly closes his watery eyes, biting the inside of his mouth, lost in thoughts. He wanted to feel your lips against his one last time. He wanted to be in your arms one last time. He wanted to hear your name coming out of your mouth one last time. He just wanted to see you, before his battle against Sukuna. Was he egoistical to want that, after everything that happened in between the two of you, after the letter you sent ?

“I just… don’t care anymore,” he muttered, standing back up and softly sliding your letter against his still beating heart.

Seeing you was his last wish. May it be granted.

Some minutes after, barely 20, he was in front of your door. It was an unholy hour to grant you a visit, the clock ticking 11.58 PM. In two minutes it would be his official last hours on earth, Christmas Day. If Santa Claus was real, then you were the biggest gift he could ask for.

The moment you open your door, sleepy eyes, greasy pajamas, and then face distorting in utter disbelief when staring at your ex fiance standing right in front of you, time stops. Satoru couldn’t believe his own eyes. His Six eyes were useless, his soul was already screaming to him that the person in front of him was the love of his life.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, unable to know if you were dreaming, or not. He died a little when he finally heard his name slipping out of your lips after so many years.

You can’t even utter another word, that his large frame is on you. His strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you in the depth of his chest and undying love for you. He inhales, you smell the same as he remembers. Oh, sweet Lord, how he missed this. He felt his heart beating again, his lungs working finally normally, he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing. Thanks to you. He never felt more alive in this moment. What a duality. A cruel duality.

“I did read your letter. Let me say my goodbyes to you too, y/n. One last time, I beg you,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Gojo Satoru never begs. Yet, here he was, ready to go on his knees like he did when he proposed to you, to implore one last blessing moment in your presence.

Your feelings were conflicted, you were in the arms of the man that broke your heart, and from whom you just made your goodbyes. Maybe that was mean of you, to send this letter the day before his battle against Sukuna. When you saw it on the news, you understood that it would be maybe your last time being able to reach to him. You told him what you needed to say. For you, that was final. But one thing that you didn’t take accountability for, was his soul wrenching love for you. And, in this small moment of peace before war, you decided to indulge in his vulnerability, no, yours. Wait, both of you were more vulnerable than you could ever be again.

“Satoru.”

“I missed you,” he whispers as he slowly lift his head, blue glossy eyes meeting yours intimately. Tears, rolling down. You couldn't fathom it.

“I’m so, so, oh so sorry. Do you forgive me for breaking your heart ?” His voice is like a whimper, and you feel a part of your soul breaking at his pleading. Your lips quiver.

“Yes, Satoru. And do you forgive me too for breaking yours ?”

“I never resented you,” he closes his eyes saying that, leaning his forehead against yours. That was unspoken, but you understood the depth of his words. After all, you knew him better than anyone else. He made you leave him, on purpose, and you were aware why he did that. You indeed left, he watched you doing it, unable to stop this tragedy from happening, because you both knew that marrying each other would have been probably the biggest dream and nightmare of your life. You both broke each other's hearts that day.

“I never did too,” you answer, closing your eyes.

“I love you, you know that, right ? Always did."

“I love you, Satoru. I know that you do. And…” you both open back your eyes at the same time, “I realize that loving you was my greatest curse, but your eyes grant me mercy. In them I see the salvation of my soul, but I know that your heart has already cursed me,” you finish in a breath coming from the depth of your being.

Two tears roll down at your answer. One from your eye, one from his. He sniffs, unable to suppress his emotions, and then slowly take out of his pocket two objects. First, a letter, bigger than the one you wrote him. It was unfinished, he didn’t have the time to. He softly puts it in the crook of your hand.

“Read it if I’m gone, if I’m not, then give it back to me in person," he asks you, his pearly white lashes getting wet from the tears in his eyes. You both knew deep in your hearts that you would never be able to give it back to him. Yet, you force a smile on your face.

“I promise.”

The second object, was your engagement ring. Satoru knew it was oh so egoistical of him to give it back, when you send it attached to the letter this morning. He refused to keep it. He still had his on his finger, he wanted you to keep it too.

You said in your letter that you refused to keep it anymore because you cared for it far too much and it reminded you too much of him. Satoru wanted you to remember him. He was sure that when he will die, people would forget about him, and move on. He came to accept that fact. People only cared about the farthest and the greatest grand Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Once death would take this title from him, he would have nothing left, aside from you.

“Only you can carry my love. Never forget that. You said that you hope by returning it to me you can finally be free. For my christmas gift, let me take your freedom,” he pleads, no, begs. His hand was shaking as he gently slid back the ring on your finger, it was his ultimate wish.

A sob escapes your lips. You cursed him for doing that to you. But how could you be mad, when granting the death wish of your long lost fiance ? You look back at the shiny ring, and remember how you blessed Heavens the day he proposed to you. It hurts to know that you never had the chance to call him your husband. Your love was doomed from the beginning. The world was cruel, so cruel.

“I’ll feel alive as long as I’m in your heart, may you never forget me,” he finishes, tangling his fingers in yours.

His left hand cradles your cheek, and you slowly lean towards him. His lips melt against yours, in this final goodbye, last kiss, last shared moment, heart to heart beating in sync. Your souls intertwined, and Satoru wished he could just die right now in your arms, in the sweetness of your lips and warmth of your love.

“In another life, Satoru. In another life we’ll marry and love each other how we wanted to, just not in this one,” you whisper like a secret to the world against his lips. He smiles through the tears.

“I’ll gladly die with a smile, now.” At least he could die the same day as Geto Suguru, one year after him, joining him in death. At least he could die knowing you loved him no matter what. At least he could die knowing that in his next life he could be by your side, again.

You never forgot him. You kept the ring on your finger, until your last breath and till death do you part. It did.

THE END

#gojo x reader #jjk #rdr2 #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru #x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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kikyoupdates · 2 months ago

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Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟹

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“This is from when we went to a cute coffee shop the other day. They have really good pastries there. I definitely recommend it.”

“Aw, what a lovely picture,” Mary-Ann beams, leaning closer to you as you swipe through your phone’s gallery. “You two look very good together. You’re a great match.”

You smile back at her, turning up the charm to the max. It’s a good thing you’re so handy with photoshop, because editing all these photos of you and Isaac together would have taken a newbie just about forever. But it’s helping your relationship seem that much more real, and most people can’t pick up on little discrepancies when it comes to edited photos anyways, not unless they’re glaringly obvious.

Everyone finished their food a while ago, so you’ve just been sitting around the couch chatting with Isaac’s parents. The evening is just about over, and even though you know you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, you have good reason to believe that they are fully convinced you’re their son’s girlfriend.

“Well, I think we should start heading out,” Isaac says, clearly signaling you with his eyes that he’s had enough and is ready to leave. “I’m burnt out from classes, and I don’t want to go to sleep too late tonight. Plus I still need to drive [Name] home.”

Mary-Ann makes a big show of pouting. “Right. That’s too bad. I wish you two could have stayed for longer, but you’re both busy bees, aren’t you?”

She just unironically said ‘busy bees’. That was kind of cute.

Isaac stands up and pats you on the shoulder, and you quickly follow suit. While Michael certainly added quite a bit of tension to the evening, overall, you feel like you did your part. The situation was likely far less uncomfortable than usual thanks to you being here. You try to avoid imagining how Michael would have acted towards his son if there wasn’t a guest present.

“I still feel like it was unnecessary to hide this from us,” Michael frowns, following you and Isaac to the front door. “You’ve finally found a girlfriend you can take pride in. Wouldn’t you want to show her off?”

“She’s not an object,” Isaac scowls. “I’m not trying to parade her around as if she’s on display.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of the person you’re with. Good grief,” Michael sighs. “You’re always so defensive.”

Isaac turns away instead of responding. His freedom is right within his grasp, and you can tell he no longer has the energy to keep bickering with his father.

You smile in an attempt to wrap the evening off on a high note. “Thank you again for having me over. Dinner was really good, and I had a lot of fun getting to know you guys.”

“It was our pleasure,” Mary-Ann beams. “You’re more than welcome to drop by as often as you like. We’re happy to have you here.”

“Isaac can be difficult, but don’t give up on him,” Michael says. “He needs someone like you in his life to set a good example.”

You smile again and nod before saying your goodbyes. Isaac is already halfway out the door and waves listlessly without looking back, much to Michael’s distaste.

It’s finally over. You did your part, and you have reason to believe that neither of his parents suspected a thing.

Once he’s safely out of earshot and well within the comfort of his car, Isaac lets out a heavy sigh.

“God, I’m tired,” he says. “That went on forever. Sorry. I probably should have been a bit more transparent about how awkward things are with my dad. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I figured your parents would be pretty strict, based on what you told me. It seems like they don’t doubt our relationship at all, which is good. And I prepared a lot in advance, so that definitely helped.”

“You did great,” Isaac smiles. “I really appreciate it. I wish I’d found this app earlier so that I could have gotten them off my back ages ago.” He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “Or… actually, maybe it’s a good thing I joined when I did. You mentioned you signed up just recently, right? If I’d joined earlier, I wouldn’t have found you. I think it all worked out for the best.”

He’s probably just being polite and praising you for a job well done, but nevertheless, his words make your cheeks feel hot.

“Right,” Isaac blinks. “Time for your payment. I’ll do it in front of you so you don’t have to worry about being ripped off. I know we’ve only just met, but I promise I’m not the kind of person to do something like that.”

“I know,” you nod encouragingly. “Just from the few hours we’ve spent together, I can tell. You’re obviously a good guy. I wish your dad would cut you some slack.”

Isaac blinks again, but this time it looks like he’s resisting the urge to cry.

He chuckles shakily, composing himself quickly enough. Not long after, you receive a notification that new funds have been deposited into your account.

So, it’s official, then.

You’ve just been paid to act as someone’s girlfriend.

“Five stars,” Isaac mumbles, no doubt giving you a review on the app. “I honestly don’t think I could do this kind of job. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to pull it off, especially since you have to improvise on the spot and you never know what’ll happen next. It’s impressive that you stayed so calm throughout the evening. Most people that meet my dad end up ripping their hair out.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you reassure.

Especially since I’m used to my own dad being a massive prick.

Isaac smiles. “Well, either way, I really appreciate you helping me. It was worth every dime. Also… I mentioned before that this was only going to be a one-time thing, but sometime in the future, would you be open to meeting with them again? I don’t see them super often, but I just wanted to know if you’re willing to put yourself through this torture again. If not, I can’t really blame you.”

“Sure,” you say. “As long as you give me a heads-up, it should be fine. It seriously wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking. If it helps you out, I’d be happy to do it.”

Isaac’s smile brightens, and he nods enthusiastically. It’s clear that he’s in a much better mood now that he’s dealt with an unpleasant situation. The money is nice, but getting to see that blissful expression of his is even better, somehow.

Even though the job is technically over, Isaac goes out of his way to drive you home and thanks you once again for helping him. He waits for you to walk into your apartment safely, which you appreciate, and you wave goodbye to him for the last time.

As you walk up the steps to your unit, you contemplate the day’s events.

Isaac was clearly satisfied with how you did, and it seemed like his parents were pretty fond of you as well. You’re not sure how long he plans to deceive them for, but for the time being, it seems to be doing the trick.

Considering this was your very first day on the job, you feel like it went really well.

And it looks like you’re going to keep riding this high for a while longer, because shortly after you get home, a notification catches your eye.

You blink several times in quick succession. Wait, seriously? You’re still fresh off your first day of work and there’s already another person who wants to hire you?

Hardly much time has passed since you set up your profile, but if the offers continue to be this frequent, you might not even need to look for another job.

You pause, then awkwardly clear your throat.

I should stop getting carried away. This is only the second person who’s tried to request me. I don’t even know if I’ll accept them.

Still, you feel confident after how happy Isaac was with your services, so you approach your new client with boundless optimism.

He proceeds to send you a picture of him posing in front of a piece of street art which you unfortunately recognize. It’s the same one you’ve passed by several times while on campus.

Shit. He goes to the same university as you? That could get a little awkward.

It takes you a while to respond. Well… Ava did say before that some people are just looking for a bit of companionship from time to time. Maybe that’s the case for Callum? He might just be in a bad spot and needs someone to talk to.

As a matter of fact, it sounds almost too good to be true, but if he’s really serious about this, then this will be the easiest money you’ve ever made in your entire life. Unlike with Isaac, you won’t have to memorize a bunch of facts to try and deceive people into believing your relationship is real. You’ll be getting paid just to hang out with someone. On campus, no less, so you won’t even have to go out of your way.

At the time, you deluded yourself into thinking that all Callum wanted was a friend, and that there was nothing more to it.

But of course, you were sorely mistaken.

“No way!” Ava squeals. “You have another job already? Today? Here?”

You glance around in a panic. Her outcry has drawn countless eyes towards the two of you, and since you’re in a library, people aren’t happy with the loud distraction.

“Shh,” you urge, pressing a finger to your lips and gesturing for her to be quiet. “Not so loud. I also don’t want people to know that this is technically a job. But yeah, this guy goes to the same university as us. He said he didn’t need me to act like his girlfriend and said it was fine to just be his friend instead.”

Ava giggles. “Sorry, sorry. But wow, that sounds awesome! Not only do you get paid, but you don’t need to do anything too crazy either. This guy must be pretty laid back. What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure if I should be telling you,” you frown. “He probably doesn’t want other people knowing that he paid for my time. I don’t know all the details, but things might not be going so well if he needs to hire a friend through an app rather than confiding in a real one. Out of respect for his privacy and personal situation, I think I should keep this to myself.”

“Oh, come on,” she whines. “You’re just teasing me at this point. You told me about Isaac, didn’t you? And if you didn’t want me to ask, you shouldn’t have mentioned that you had a new job right on campus!”

“I only told you because you were trying to hang out later when I’m supposing to be meeting with him.”

“But still!”

She balls her hands into fists and huffs—a bit too loudly, it seems, because several people turn around and openly glare at her.

Ava flashes them a sheepish smile, then looks back at you with big, imploring eyes. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top? I just want to know his name and what he looks like. You know I won’t go blabbing to anyone. If I ever pass by the two of you hanging out, I promise not to let it slip that I know he hired you. Haven’t I always been a woman of my word?”

To her credit, she’s really good at keeping secrets. Trust is important in all relationships, not just romantic ones, and the fact that the two of you are so transparent with each other is one of the main reasons your friendship has lasted this long.

“Fine,” you eventually give in, and Ava dramatically pumps her fist in the air. People are still looking at her, so they must think she’s got a few screws loose. Well, not that she seems to mind.

You pull out your phone and swipe the app open.

“His name is Callum,” you say. “He’s a year older than me. He mentioned he took a gap year after high school so he started a bit later than we did. I don’t know too much else about him, but he didn’t have any specific requests or ask me to prepare anything, so it sounds like we really are just going to be hanging out.”

Ava studies the profile attentively. “He’s pretty hot,” she remarks. “I feel like he’s got that mysterious kind of bad boy vibe that most people are really into. Well, I personally think nice-looking guys like Isaac are better. Or my amazing boyfriend, of course.”

“Should I tell him he was just an afterthought on that list?” you tease.

“Oh, shush. He knows I love him. I’m just speaking objectively. None of these guys are ever going to make me act out.”

You chuckle softly. Callum is attractive, that much you can admit to, but it’s comforting to know that you can just be yourself and take it easy around him. He isn’t expecting a practiced performance or anything. You actually almost feel guilty accepting the money. If you end up having fun, isn’t it basically just a meet-up with a friend?

“I can pretty much read your mind,” Ava snorts. “Don’t feel sorry for him. We don’t know why he feels the need to do this, or what exactly is going on in his life. Like you said, there’s no way to know the details. He’s the one who offered you money in exchange for your time, so you have no reason to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah… that’s true,” you nod. “At least I’m helping people, one way or another. But I feel like people don’t usually help others expecting money in return…”

“That’s not true. So many different jobs involve helping people, but it’s not like people can just work for free. We can’t help that we need money to survive. Seriously,” she sighs, patting your back in reassurance, “you’re way too nice. Going out of your way to help a total stranger isn’t something the average person does, and besides, you’ve got student loans and tuition to pay. You’re dealing with your own shit, and so is he, right?”

Perhaps it’s because this job sounds so much easier than the previous one. At least in Isaac’s case, you had to prepare ahead of time and maintain a convincing performance in an awkward and relatively stressful environment. It felt like you actually earned your pay.

Well, it’s too late to back out now. I guess I shouldn’t keep beating myself up over it. If I end up having fun while working, where’s the harm in that? As long as Callum’s happy, that’s all that matters.

You smile back at Ava. As always, she’s right. You’re lucky to have a friend like her, who pushes you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things. Without her, you’re sure you would be missing out on all kinds of interesting experiences.

“I should get going now,” you say, already packing up your things.

Ava frowns. “Huh? So soon?”

“We’re meeting on the opposite end on campus, and I don’t want to be late. And no, you can’t follow me and spy on us.”

“[Name], please,” she laughs. “I do have some self-control. Plus, my classes start soon.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve skipped class. I’m actually kind of scared to even ask what your attendance record is like.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better lately, okay?”

You zip up your backpack and laugh as you wave goodbye to her. You open up your phone to the app and check the last message you exchanged with Callum. The meet-up spot hasn’t changed, and he hasn’t mentioned anything else since then.

You wonder what you’ll be doing together. Well, since you’re meeting at a cafe, you can start off by grabbing some coffee and sitting down for a chat, but it sounds like you both have a bit of time to kill before your afternoon classes. Maybe you can go on a stroll through the university gardens? Actually, he might already have something else planned.

You’ve always been prone to overthinking, but you eventually reason that there’s no way to prepare for this, and hardly a point either.

It’s just going to be a chill hangout session, and who knows? You might even get a new friend out of it.

You thought for sure you would be the early one, but when you arrive at the cafe, you find that Callum is already waiting there.

He spots you without a moment’s delay.

“Oh, hey,” he grins. “You’re [Name]? Wow, you’re even prettier than in all your pictures. They don’t do you justice at all.”

“Thanks,” you blush. “The same goes for you. Your pictures were nice, but you look even better in person.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he brushes off. He pauses for a moment, then his grin gets even wider. “Just kidding. Keep complimenting me as much as you want. I like it.”

You chuckle awkwardly, and perhaps a touch nervously. He doesn’t really seem like the type of guy who doesn’t have any friends. He’s clearly extroverted, and charismatic, and between the two of you, you’re the one who’s visibly on edge.

Again, there’s no point in wondering why he hired you. The point is that he did hire you, and you had better make sure he’s satisfied with his experience.

“Well, it’s nice to be meeting you in person,” you smile. “What did you want to do first? I guess we’ll start with some coffee?”

“Yeah, I need coffee ASAP,” Callum nods. “I get cranky without it. It’s an inevitable side effect of being an insomniac. As you can probably tell.”

He has discernible dark circles under his eyes, so you kind of figured he might be sleep-deprived. Quite frankly, he looks like the kind of person who subsists solely off coffee, microwaved meals, and cigarettes.

Then again, that’s probably the case for most university students.

“Let’s head in,” Callum gestures. He stops in front of the door to smile back at you. “And thanks again for agreeing to my request, even though you don’t usually do this kind of thing on campus.”

“Just as friends,” you feel the need to clarify. “As long as it’s just as friends, then there’s no problem.”

Callum keeps smiling sweetly, but his pale eyes briefly glint with something akin to amusement.

Needless to say, you don’t pick up on it.

“Yep,” he beams. “Just friends. Anyways, I need my coffee. I’m basically dead on my feet.”

You follow him inside the store, ordering your own coffee after he does. Since neither of you have classes anytime soon, you figure you might sit around and talk for a little while, so you head to one of the tables.

Callum, however, stops you.

“Let’s sit outside,” he insists. “They’ve got tables there too. The weather’s nice today. I want to enjoy the sun.”

“Oh, sure,” you nod.

There’s no reason to object. Spring is right around the corner, so it’s definitely been warming up lately. You sit down next to Callum and take a tentative sip of your coffee, exhaling happily as you lift your face towards the sunny sky.

“This was a good call,” you acknowledge. “It’s relaxing, being able to drink good coffee and sit under the sun. I’m usually scrambling to finish my coffee in time for class. I definitely needed a change of pace.”

Callum chuckles. “Yeah, you get it. I feel like people are always going a hundred miles a minute, but I’m just trying to take it easy and actually enjoy life. People seem to forget how to do that nowadays. It’s kind of a shame.”

He starts sipping at his coffee, and you decide to focus on your own drink instead of disturbing him. You’ve only just met, but you’re already starting to feel more at ease. He really is laid back and chill.

Yeah. Accepting his request was definitely the right call.

…or was it?

“Callum?”

Someone calls his name out of nowhere. Naturally, you turn towards the source, where a young woman is standing still as a statue, and for some reason, she looks absolutely flabbergasted.

Before you can even think twice about it, Callum wraps his arm around your shoulder, which makes the woman nearly pop a blood vessel.

You suddenly feel as though something is horribly wrong.

“Oh, hey Nadia,” Callum hums. “What’s up?”

Nadia doesn’t say anything at first. Just like you, she’s in utter disbelief and is still struggling to process what’s happening. Callum holds you tight, hardly giving you any wiggle room, and something tells you that if you push him away right now, he won’t be happy about it.

But even if you did push him away in time, you doubt it would have made a difference. Already, the damage has been done.

Nadia grits her teeth, expression turning venomous.

“...who the fuck is she?”

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autisticandroids · 3 months ago

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belated fic rec list, part five: dabb era

so! this is for day 1 of @spnficrecfest (you will notice that that was yesterday two days ago. uh huh). and i am compensating by creating FIVE SEPARATE ERA-SPECIFIC LISTS. this one is for dabb era, which i'm lumping together because it has broadly similar vibes. i intentionally did not put any post-despair destiel fix-its on here because that's kind of a genre unto itself. mainly destiel, with some other pairings or gen as well.

other lists: endverse // seasons four and five // season six // season nine

my fave dabb era fics, in increasing order of length

still beautiful by filthyalleyway, .5k, mcd warning

dean makes a pretty corpse. destiel.

gaze into the distant sky by vaguesurprise, 2k

a jack character study, on the topic of bear traps. gen.

the first commandment by angelfishofthelord, 2k, chose not to warn

cas grieves jack, and he does what he has to for his family. gen.

carry on by goldmonger, 3k

a vicious little vignette of family life in the bunker. gen.

the last drop (makes the cup run over) by slopeslippers, 4k

jack isn't coping very well with being god. gen.

15x06 "golden hour" by hal_incandenza, 4k

what if golden time was worse. and more depressing. and crucially, what if jack was there, in cas' mind. gen.

frustration by bitterred, 4k

dagon and kelly play house. dagonkelly.

this was your child. i can't imagine the pain. by slipper007, 4k

cas grieves jack and learns to live with it. gen.

the center of the labyrinth by vaguesurprise, 4k, mcd warning

a horror story about being god's favorite. chuck/dean, minor destiel.

blood spins my head by vaguesurprise, 5k

dagonkelly lesbian awakening. now with demon blood!

no guts by adamwilliamsthevfxguy, 5k chose not to warn and mcd warning

cas lashes out at dean in season fifteen. destiel.

by your hand by slopeslippers, 6k, chose not to warn

moriah if it had gone the way cas wished it had. destiel.

chug jug with you (number one victory royale) feat. leviathan by wintertree, 7k

jack and crowley hanging out. gen.

hymnal by burningtea, 7k

cas and mary at christmas. character study. destiel.

samson went back to bed by piesexuality, 9k

one of my favorite fics in this whole collection. cas does what he must to protect jack. now with mindwipes! destiel.

and laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself, 13k

a rework of jack's early childhood where cas was there, and then a rework of the malak box where both cas and jack go in it. destiel.

sometimes a kind of singing by adi_rotynd, 22k

an unflinching examination on tfw 2.0's family dynamic. technically wip but done enough to be fine. gen.

the trapdoor by hal_incandenza, 161k so far, violence warning

destiel. this is maybe my favorite on the whole list. a full rewrite of seasons thirteen and fourteen, with whole new episodes of supernatural contained within. what if instead of stupid, the meta storyline of supernatural was in fact good? and interesting? what then? what would happen?

#spn #spnficrecfest

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letters-from-cutie · 4 months ago

Text

THE STARS WILL ALWAYS GUIDE ME (BACK) TO YOU

In which the most unexpected person in the world becomes a poet

Or were you always find your soulmate when he needs you the most

synopsis: levi's skepticism over the soulmate concept didn't stop him from meeting you at three different times - as his soul would always find a way to meet you, his star. -> 5.0k words <-

warning: gn!reader, wrote at 3 am; cringe attempt at poetry; slightly angst; reverse comfort; not intended longfic; childhood crushes; death of major character; levi is bad at feelings; cursing (it's levi c'mon); shallow use of soulmates!au; english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes! author's note: hello dear reader, marie here <3 this is my first fanfic on our captain, so he may sound ooc; i'm trying out past and present on english, SO i tried something different here, hehe; like always images are not mine; also this is more of a prologue for my future works if you wonder. and i wish you have a great time reading ^-^

800's - Titan's Era - The Past

After so many years, Captain Levi barely remembers the first time he saw you, but he knows it was special.

In his childhood, a man named Kenny taught him some survival skills. They went beyond common self-defense; he learned to steal from small stores, run from the military cops, and beat someone, in case he needed to fight. After all, knowing more than just basic skills was required to survive there. Plus, his Ackerman genes helped him endure that filthy environment.

The other kids in the underground found him extremely intimidating. They began avoiding him after hearing rumors that he could beat up grown-ups twice his size and never face any consequences. Some saw him as a legend, while others viewed him as a scary and awful little boy.

With Kenny's departure, Levi was left alone. He had to rely on himself as a young child, without any family or friends to give him support.

Until the day he met you, that is.

Being raised inside your parents' small store, you lacked the street smarts. There was only so much you could do against the older kids who would bully you. And the alley next to your home was the perfect place for them to get you.

Levi found you there, scared for your life. The bigger kids were dragging your face down in the muddy floor and making threats. You knew who they were: robbers, who left your parents' store not satisfied with just some pennies.

Just like these children, Levi was also a thief. However, he was only trying to secure his daily meal, struggling to survive on his own, while the others committed theft for their own pleasure.

Maybe that's why he saved you that day, getting himself into trouble with the other kids. Or it was because he felt like he owned your dad, as he once caught him stealing some bread and let him off the hook. No matter the reasoning he was sure that he could handle the kids

The next day, it was your turn to help him. You found Levi injured near your house. You hurried to him and treated him following your mother's instructions. Since he couldn't afford medicine, he allowed you to treat him.

Levi was impressed by you, who seemed unfazed by the red flow of blood gushing from his knee. (You were repulsed but insisted on helping him back, so you kept it to yourself.) In return, you were also impressed to learn that he was the least hurt in the fight he had with your bullies, handling all of them alone.

It quickly became a routine. Every time you met, it was for a different reason. However, there was this shared, strange proximity whenever you saw each other. A friendship was formed, but you would never use such a word; it didn't seem to fit with the connection you had.

Suddenly, Levi thought he was getting sick. His heart would take leaps whenever you took care of him, with so much dedication written on your face. He would stutter when seeing you after a long time apart, but your caring tone and look would give him the confidence to speak for himself afterward.

One day, your mother teased him and got away with it. He came rushing into the store when another child who resembled you went missing. Not seeing you there made him panic; only your mom was there as you left with your dad for a walk. To lighten the mood at the small store, she made a joke about him liking a certain kid.

He did like you. It was an innocent and pure first love. Yet, kids like him didn't get crushes, so he never put such a label on his feelings. He believed that he would not live long. And since you had a (slightly) better condition, one day you were to be married and carry on your family name. He saw no use in having a crush.

When you saw him later that day, he said your mother was sweet, like his. You asked about her whereabouts, and after knowing of her death, you told him that she must have become a star in the sky. He wished to see it for himself.

So the stars caught both of your interests. Well, you already talked nonstop about nature and the sky — it was your dream to leave the underground.

You'd talk about the birds that sometimes get trapped in the underground. Daydreams about living outside would fuel your imagination. You would imagine feeling the sun's warmth on your skin. How cold was the snow? — you asked yourself. And in some days you'd dream of kissing your love in the rain one day; you longed for a romance like in your stories.

Levi never got your name; he never asked. When he was older, he would call you "poet". Truth be told, you were just a little child, seeking solace in fiction as a form of comfort from the terrible circumstances you lived in.

Even as a child, Levi was skeptical of others' beliefs, religions, and legends. Interestingly enough, his main memory of you was a discussion over a love story. Something about two people meant to find each other, connected through a red string of fate.

"You're such a baby for falling for this soulmate thing. I think you're being stupid!"

He was ignorant and rude as a kid; he knew it.

"Do you really, think that about me, Levi?" No.

You were brilliant — an entire constellation; he noted.

Actually, he was amazed by your appreciation for nature, something you had never encountered before. Levi never said it, but he liked your drawings in the dirt. They illustrated your stories. Since you didn't know the format of the stars, each time you would draw them in a unique pattern.

He was so bad with words, he could never say beautiful things like you did. He wanted to, tell you how much he enjoyed your company. But he wasn't able to.

Soon enough, you started to cough and sneeze a lot, and out of nowhere, you became a star too. A little star, beaming in the sky, hidden from Levi's sight underneath the capital.

Your death was invisible in the underground. Diseases were everywhere, and people died easily there. They did not live long. If they got sick, they would probably die very soon; just like you did when a cold got your family.

In Levi's opinion, you managed to escape from that hell.

His heart ached again; he wanted to cry, he wanted you, then he wanted his mom, but neither could be found. And his thoughts would revolve around the fact that he would never love meet you again. Gone forever, he thought.

A frigid and everlasting winter started inside of him, building up icy walls around his heart.

The images of his first love faded over time, just like the clouds in the sky. In his heart, it was always winter. The sky turned gray, and the air he breathed was freezing cold. The ice kept him closed off from the world around him.

Levi got so used to the cold that he was afraid of his warmer days. The sun would bless him again; not as the large sphere that shone during the day, but more shaped like his friends. Those who brought comfort to his broken heart were like sun rays.

His line of work would bring even more disaster to his life. And these were the coldest days. But there were always some sun rays peeking through the windows of his heart. It was their persistence that encouraged the man to continue moving forward, with no regrets.

When asked what he desired to do if he ever got a life after the military, Levi would scowl - as if that could ever happen - he would respond. In the end, everyone agreed he'd excel at whatever he chose to do.

Just no poetry - his friends commented - not with his awful attitude and scary face. Levi brushed them off. The comments made his friends laugh, and that lightness was needed there. After all the deaths and injuries, the captain couldn't find himself mad at their silly banter after an unsuccessful expedition.

Yet, just as the sun always sets at night, death would soon follow Levi's path. He always got shocked by them, but never surprised, as to him disaster seemed to be as natural as the daily sunset.

Mom, his first love poet kid, Isabel, Furlan, all those fallen soldiers, his squad, Erwin... They all faded in the sky which was Levi's life, leaving him in the darkness of the night. During those evenings, he would gaze at the stars that were once his companions; then he would cry, grieving and trembling with the coldness of his solitude.

One of the few memories Levi had of his childhood was that poet kid, always talking about the overworld. On his first explorations, he was able to see everything that the kid always dreamed about. Although that child would never expect him to lose his family the first time he saw the poetic and romantic rain.

Levi hated rainy days because they reminded him of himself.

Years later, Levi almost lost himself, as the raindrops fell on his severe injuries. He was rescued by a friend, whom he didn't have enough time to thank, as their death followed soon after. With Hanji's death and the war's end, he could finally rest, assured that his days would be calmer. At the same time, he feared he would never find love again.

But he was wrong because he met you (again).

Years younger than him, but old enough to have your own career, you were a witty traveler. Born into a wealthy but absent family, you traveled all over the world, writing about what you saw, getting inspired by the diversion of the world. At least until the rumbling vanished almost everything you cherished.

After surviving the war, you decided to help to record your historical period. You joined a group of writers and journalists, leaving your poetry and romances aside for a while. You were able to interview the allies, as your popularity granted you the prestige enough to do so.

At the right time, your kind heart earned the trust of the allies. They allowed you to write down their stories, and they recounted their side of the story to the rest of the world. One name was common in all of people's stories — Captain Levi. He seemed to be an icon, but you didn't meet him right away; he was injured and opted to stay out of the spotlight.

The first time Levi heard about you, he dismissed it. Thinking that it was a one-time meeting with his friends fellow soldiers, he didn't dwell much on it. Not long after, some comments caught his interest. Jean and Armin kept discussing a topic he hadn't heard of in nearly three decades, much to the captain's surprise.

Apparently, a fictional romance you made was inspired by the 'soulmate' concept. So many survivors were occupying themselves with your flowery words and books.

What even was a soulmate? He couldn't remember the explanation he heard from that poet kid.

Most survivors were now hoping to meet their other halves. It was rather a welcome relief after going through so much. But Levi felt it was ridiculous.

So he decided to confront you. Levi asked to meet with you. He thought about what he would say to this fraud of a cultist. Oh, how he would speak his mind on the fact that you were giving his friends family soldiers, empty hopes.

To his surprise, when the man first met you (again?), he was unable to speak at all.

No, he had never met you before, but at first glance, he thought he had (he did).

His soul knew yours. And yours knew his.

For the first time in years, he struggled to speak, enchanted by your starry eyes, in a trance of your voice. Instead of debating you, he let you ramble by yourself on the matter, as long as you desired.

It made no sense to him. After all the death and suffering he endured, he couldn't accept such a simple, perfect idea. Seeing you as such a firm believer, made him curious as to why you trusted so hard such ideas.

"I may be a writer, but my words on love are nothing but the reality I've seen." You had met so many adorable couples, so it had to be true. Plus, you also wanted to believe that someone was waiting for you in this and other lifetimes. Especially after so much disaster, there has to be something good in the end.

"Not everyone gets to meet love during their life, and many people died. But it doesn't mean that we cannot dream of a better life." You spoke your mind to him, unfazed by his strong presence.

Captain Levi was a legend. First, you were so determined to write and tell his story and to melt down his icy heart too. As you came to interact with him, you realized that he deserved to be loved, and by himself first. You wanted to show him that he deserved his own love and others as well. He deserved happiness.

You couldn't bring back his beloved ones, nor could you take the burden of their deaths off his shoulders. But you could offer him your care, patience, and attention, the things that were once taken from him, and you were happy to oblige in his needs. top of all, you would not go away; He would say that it was annoying how persistent you were. Yet his biggest fear was that you would leave him, like the others.

As a result, working to retell humanity's strongest soldier's story was your biggest act. It took a long time, but you, being the stubborn person you were, managed to get through his clouded heart. And your soul was able to speak to his own, to comfort him, and reassure him.

Not only as a storyteller but also as his lover.

Your care and attention were so comforting. Your company was like a spring breeze, and he became fascinated by you; the feeling was mutual. Each small glance and accidental touch sent shivers down his spine. The sensations he felt with you were as strong as thunder in the summer rain. Watching you work, he imagined autumn leaves falling from a tree. But it was simply you scribing words on paper, slowly but steadily.

Before, he felt that there was only winter in his life, but you showed him that there were other seasons as well.

During a rainy day, when you both had to stay inside, he took you in his arms for the first time. He told you he remembered a friend from his childhood, the poet who first told him about soulmates. He used to make fun of them and never really believed in what they said until he met you. You proved him wrong in his concepts of life.

He didn't look as disgusted when looking in the mirror. His scars were now his trophies, and he took care of himself so he would not get hurt again. Because he knew he didn't deserve to feel pain anymore.

The Titan war ended, and he was finally free to live and to love — you helped him realize that.

So he kissed you for the first time as the raindrops fell on the window, the storm was outside. You were his home, protecting him from the rain and any other type of disaster. He finally had a place where his heart belonged.

That night, while looking at the stars, he vowed to always find you again.

And thus, he became a poet.

2020's - Global Era - The Present

The man's long fingers dance across the books, checking off the level of the dust. He found it bothersome. How could someone keep these valuable gems in such a filthy condition?

"So, what do you think, Professor?" "Is this collection any good?" The owner of the items sounds anxious, and the man detects the desire in their eyes. All for money.

"The eyes are a gateway to someone's true self; poetic words, but a true reality."

The tales presented on the pages told a story from another time. It belonged to the historical record rather than the literary one, so he would not have any use for it. Maybe his friend should have them, he imagines.

The professor didn't see himself as a money seeker. So he wouldn't mind lending the books to someone else. Rather than a money-driven individual, he's someone who attempted to live his best life. Especially now, in the middle of such turbulent times.

"I'll evaluate them later with a colleague; you're dismissed." He didn't even look at the person in his office. His mind was far away, among the empty pages on his desk.

His focus sat on the big windows of his office, where the sky looked way too dark for the middle of the day. A storm was on its way. Shit

He cursed himself for not bringing an umbrella. He should've just listened to his mother's suggestion. That a witchy woman, always knowing when it's going to rain.

"I'm sure you have some expectations for how much we'll get from these relics. Right, Mr. Ackerman?"

In response, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. Taking one of the books in his hand, he double-checks the signature engraved on the leather. The old calligraphy looks to be very legitimate, even having the original author's name signed on the front page.

[Reader] was a big poet from the Titan Era. This means that these could be some original editions of the books they'd written about the war, while they were experiencing with nonfiction. Their most prized book was 'Humanity's Strongest Soldier', which now stands in a museum for ancient eldian relics.

The professor was named after him, it was his duty to know at least a bit of it. His mom liked how the soldier's name sounded, and it's pretty common for modern Eldians to have names of these old personalities. Ackerman's friends are examples of that, most being named after fallen scouts.

Now he definitely would call his history enthusiast friend later, and he would have the time of his life.

Maybe he could do like that poet and try out new writing styles? But for now, he needs to rush home first. But it's going to rain, and his visit is still there, keeping him in his office. The professor just wishes to not get trapped in a storm.

He stands up, going straight to the old wooden door of his office. As he opens it, the visitor starts to get mad at him. What a wrong decision.

"Oi! I said I would speak to Mr. Erwin later, but if you're so urgent for that money, his office is just across campus." Stop pestering me; I have to go before the storm comes.

Professor Ackerman isn't in a position to judge history books with such detail. After all, he's on the creative side of writing.

Plus it's a good excuse to expel him from my office.

"I'm sure you'll earn enough to stop you from coming here again."

The person urges themselves, gathering their stuff and mumbling their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the professor, the cold tea on its holder, and piles of papers on the desk. At first glance, the papers seemed to be organized but were actually a confusion of syllables, in which he was drowning. The confused papers match the ones in his own home and in the garbage.

I need to work on this book myself; Erwin cannot help me this time, he's too busy.

He hopes that this found collection does not bother Erwin much. He already has a lot on his hands. He always does. His friend researches nonstop about the Titan era. It's weird. Maybe Erwin should see a therapist. It would be more useful than rambling to him about a connection to a time when they weren't even alive.

Who in their right mind would feel connected to the years of man-eating beasts? Right, our mutual friend.

Ackerman curses them, remembering he needs to call them soon.

They would go insane when they found out about his last visitor: a minister's son who asked for the university to clean his appointments just to see him. And to make matters worse, they didn't even inform him, until two hours ago, when they saw him trotting to his office.

He picks up his phone and checks the time. It's been an hour since the appointment he arranged with the writer. He felt a bit bad for them, and the copy of their work resting on his desk.

The professor remembers how other young writers he met had to kiss the asses of seniors to get a chance. He was more than happy for his friendship with Erwin; his dad, also a professor and author, made things much easier.

Rushing out of his office, he gets his phone and calls "Four-Eyes." Ackerman only stops for a moment to speak with his assistant. Petra would have to manage the rearranging for another day.

He senses someone nearby in the reception, but his focus is fully on his phone's screen. Come on, pick it up! You owe me this!

As he leaves the old building, phone on hand, his thoughts travel away to that writer's project again... Maybe he should give them a bit more time to try to convince him to help with their project, if he was on a good day, that is.

Plus, he read the draft; their writing was really good. He wondered, did they really share a name with that poet from centuries ago or were they just a poser who took that as their fake name. Whatever reason, the professor would kill to have someone with such skills on his writing team, like this [Reader].

But the concept... soulmates? No one even remembers about that! Why did they choose it?

He almost tossed it in the trash when he first saw the synopsis. That's also why he scheduled them in the final office hour after leaving them as the last ones he would review during the semester.

Could you blame him? They did submit a romance, after all, Professor Ackerman was anything but a lover, being known for his dark stories, complex characters, and drama. He wasn't the best at flowery and sugary stories. Then why did they submit it to him in the first place?

Yet, the concept of the red string sounded so... Poetic?

His line of thought gets stopped by a water drop on his forehead, falling through his face. As he feels more drops of water getting into his meticulously arranged hair, his call is finally answered.

"SHORTY! I was talking to Mike about inviting you to the..."

"I'm not going to this sky-dropping shit. If you guys want to die, fine, but leave me out of it." He sounded harsher than he intended.

Knowing his friends, he would eventually find himself in the air some days later. It was just to help Mike's girlfriend with her project of losing the fear of heights. The problem is that Ackerman doesn't commit to things he may regret, so he needs more time to digest it before confirming.

"Oh well, but then at least try to get through your fears too, like dance in the rain like that old movies!" The friend laughed.

What a coincidence! He is trapped in an incoming storm, while his friend makes fun of his phobia. Is this how therapy works?

"Have you not checked a fucking window? Get my car here, it's raining!" Please.

With that, their friend starts to apologize over and over again, he accepted the apology the first time they muttered "I'm so sorry", but he was to leave them repeating it by themselves, as a punishment. Looking forward, there stood the bus stop, so beat up that its coverage would fail to protect him from the rain.

"Forgive meeee I'm getting into your car right now."

He sits down on the bench and starts thinking to himself... Maybe he can ask the ministry for more funds! They'll eventually come back to him with more ancient relics that he totally cares about. He'll put on his best act again.

Who is he kidding? He prefers to die than interact with a politician again.

"Tch, I have work to do, Four Eyes. I can't go skydiving with so much shit on hold."

"For fucks sake, you're having a creative block! Stop forcing it! Go get some fresh air or look for the help of another writer!" From the phone, he could hear the engine of his car, which made him relax a bit.

"That is my job, Hanji. And you don't get to tell me what to do!" But thanks for caring.

He's the professor, the one meant to be an example for new writers. He cannot let his walls down; he cannot let himself be in a junior's position. And as the raindrops get harder, he feels his suit soak.

"Besides, I'm tired of ass-kissers. Now leave your phone away and fucking drive." And be safe, please.

So he hangs up, making a note to not let Hanji drink so much the next time they go out. They can't hold themselves on alcohol, and he has to babysit them and the rest, but they are always the worst among all the drunks he delivers to home.

This time his car paid the price, and since Professor Ackerman was too much of an elegant man to step into the filthy car, he made Hanji stay clean it for the entire day. He could handle the rain if it meant that a certain someone got to clean up their mess.

A bus passes through swiftly, and someone curses out loud from behind him. Idiot student. His mind goes back to his unfinished work. The sky was now so dark. He would expect a big storm to arrive and drown the earth. Yet the rain that was pouring looked rather ordinary, not as strong as it was supposed to be.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you wish to share?"

A forest-green umbrella appears in his sight. He quickly turns his head in the direction of the voice and sees a star, a real one. His tired eyes meet your serene ones, which leave him speechless.

Just like every single lifetime.

"Sir? You don't want to catch a cold, do you?" Who are you? Do I know you?

You sit by the men's side. The position is awkward. Half of the large umbrella keeps your left side dry. The other part protects the man's right shoulder from the rain. When he looks at you, he can see your left arm getting wetter. It's a choice you've made by lending your space underneath the umbrella. Your arm stands high on top of the already not-too-tall man.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?" You answer quickly, and an awkward silence followed.

Are they insane?

"Tch. Getting sick is not the worst thing that can happen to me, stop bothering." After all, it's not the Titan era. Why is this getting in his head again? The water may be getting to his brain.

"It's just another shitty day."

"Fair." You followed. "Well, I just missed an important appointment and lost my bus; I'll probably cry myself to sleep if I even get home...." You paused, taking a big breath, that changes your energy completely."But I'll come back later. It's just another bad day."

Why is this person venting to me?

"Don't get into problems with higher-ups," Like I did. "They'll step on you."

"Ah, it wasn't my fault." You told him (and yourself). "It's said around this campus that the guy's awful and scary anyway."

Professor Ackerman found himself awfully empathizing with you. He knew that this part of the capital was full of self-absorbed rich guys. He recognizes the glow in your eyes, innocent but determined. But your voice speaks of bad things and problems, like a supernova, a star that died but still shines.

"So... yeah, not the worst thing that can happen to me, too!"

It's good that you keep smiling yourself determined in this place because no one else can do it for you.

Funny. He struggled so hard with his own writing for the past few days. And suddenly the professor finds himself getting inspired by a stranger. Someone with whom he will never cross paths again.

"Are you a student here?"

Talking about Paradis' main university, the chances are high. But you quickly assure him that you have already graduated. And in another nation's college, which means you're probably not even an eldian.

He is curious now; what more can he get from this stranger's crazy talk?

"Then what is worse? Shitting yourself in public?" He jokes, not expecting a laugh back. And surely you don't laugh. And a familiar car comes down the street.

Waiting for your answer, he looks at you again. And his breath gets caught in his throat for a moment. Your eyes, so beautiful, suddenly matched the stars stamped on your cute bag. And your smile, big and shiny, made him feel butterflies, that soared freely inside his chest.

"Not meeting my soulmate in this life. That is the most cruel fate I could ever be given."

Levi stops in time; that concept was such an old-fashioned saying, that not many young people knew about it. What were the changes of you... No, it can't be.

Seeing his lack of reaction, started mumbling again, seemingly nervous.

"I understand. People can believe in large man-eating creatures destroying this world... But not in true love, right? Leave that for poets, haha."

No, it was not that, I...

"And how will you know that you've found them?" He has so many questions, so many thoughts so many ideas...

You laugh.

"Maybe the stars will tell me, they always know."

So it is you.

"LEVI!" Hanji calls from the street, and you jump in your seat.

As soon as the rider saw Levi with some company, they sensed something rather interesting. So, as the Cupid they are, they decide to act and point out to you, waving to the car next. They were calling you.

"Cutie! You don't want to get a cold, do ya?"

Levi just sighs, annoyed at his friend's behavior. If it wasn't his car, he would go around and leave, thinking Hanji sounded like a perverted.

Getting up from his seat, he pats your head, amused by your cute wide eyes looking at him. You then look at his badge resting on his brown suit. The name 'Professor L. Ackerman' shined in gold and was visible now thanks to the car lights.

He knows he is a stranger, and this offer would sound strange, but it's to thank you for the umbrella and to talk to you more. He may even work together with you soon.

Levi feels like he's not a stranger to you; you feel like he's not a stranger too.

He knows your soul, and you know his.

"Seems like you got yourself lucky, [Reader]; you've got yourself a ride." He points to his car. Levi walks toward it without looking back, letting you decide for yourself.

It's time for Levi to tell a different story; he's aware of that now. But then, would you be the one to help him write it down, reader? Do you accept the ride?

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