#The 3 phrases are actually song titles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hobiespick · 4 months ago

Note

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you��re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fanfiction #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #supernatural headcanons #supernatural fandom #supernatural season 1 #reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #sava preaches

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koolades-world · 7 months ago

Text

one of my besties had me watch the madison beer mv of make you mine and it's actually such a good song. i love that the entire thing is jennifer's body themed. you know it's bad when i think of fictional characters while i listen to the song haha. sorry if mephi's dialogue seems a little ooc, not super familiar with his speech patterns yet

i'm really bad at giving things titles as you can see haha. highly recommend giving it a listen or listening while you read this <3

also i just learnt mephisto has an undercut? it's actually black so is purple not his natural hair color? he'd look really pretty with black hair but part of me wonders if he dyed it purple to look different from lucifer

anyways sorry this is so late! got busy hanging out with friends and the thing i had originally wanted to post wasn't ready, and i just really wanted to post this haha. enjoy :)

make u mine (mephisto x reader)

Mephisto had never meant to end up in such a compromising situation with the human exchange student, of all people. Not that it being anyone else would have made it better, but at least You looked absolutely ravishing in your party wear, and despite everything in him telling him to look away, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. Had you placed a spell on him?

It all started with a few words overheard in a conversation between Diavolo and Lucifer. Of course, he hadn't meant to overhear what they were saying on purpose. He could thank the journalist inside him unconsciously picking up on many side conversations at the same time, and that one in particular happened to catch his interest. Listening to Mammon and Asmo talk about the latest party they were going to could wait. His attention was fully captured when he heard the phrase "exchange program." That phrase always meant a scoop was just around the bend.

He had no clue that this "scoop" would slowly consume every waking moment he occupied.

Once the time came that for the program to start, he didn't expect to be greeted with two very different humans. One was a powerful sorcerer he knew rather well, from a distance of course, and the other was a seeming nobody. He thought it was odd, but he wanted to interview you nonetheless to get your thoughts on the program. He was interested in learning about you. It started as the beginnings of an article he knew would perform well, and morphed into personal curiosity.

Getting you alone proved difficult. One of those pesky brothers was always with you, and they seemed very insistent on keeping you two apart. They must've received some kind of instruction from Lucifer, as even Satan seemed intent on staying between the two of you. He had been sitting the the RAD newspaper room, alone, pondering over this exact dilemma, when his problem resolved itself when you came barreling the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

"Hey." You were out of breath. Your hair was a mess and a half smile on your face. Your back was pressed to the door. The moment he made eye contact with you was a moment he couldn't quite put words to, despite being excellent at that. He found it hard to look away from you.

He was speechless at first at the crazy coincidence, as if his thoughts had summoned you. "Ehem. How may I help you?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Will you do me a tinsy little favor and hide me? Pretty please?" The way you batted your eyelashes at him made his heart immediately cave to your demands, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold.

"Will you agree to do an interview with me if I do?" He spun the question around on you. He had wanted to ask anyways. He wasn't one to pass up an opportunity presented to him on a silver platter.

"Deal. Quick, Lucifer probably wasn't far behind me." You rushed towards him, taking his hand. This shook him for the second time in less than a minute. Hurriedly, he shoved you behind the printing press that occupied one side of the room and turned it on to cover up any noise you might make. No sooner than he had done this, Lucifer threw the door open.

"Didn't you hear me knocking?" The demon looked just out of sort as you had, but angry rather than amused like you were. He hadn't seen anyone get such a rise out of Lucifer in a while. He was interested in hearing your story. Lucifer's eyes scanned the room in search of you, but only grew more irate upon finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"No. I'm busy." Mephisto turned his back to Lucifer to conceal his growing grin.

"Mc isn't in here, are they?" Lucifer remained in the doorway.

"What do you think? This a writing sanctuary, not a daycare." Mephisto picked up one of the papers printed, pretending to look busy. Lucifer huffed, annoyed.

"Watch yourself, cocky journalist." With that, Lucifer spun around and left the room. He left the door slightly ajar, making Mephisto the most annoyed he'd been during that entire interaction. After pushing the door shut, he called out to you.

"He's gone. You have quite the story to tell, hmm?" He grabbed his notepad and pen, beckoning you to take a seat on the couch beside him.

"Turn off the noisemaker, then we can talk." You sat beside him after coming out of hiding. With a playful sigh, he got back up to shut it off so he could really begin to talk to you.

That was his first real conversation with you without one of the brothers present, and he suddenly understood their desire to keep you to themselves. Thankfully, after that day, he had his foot in the door and you were more than happy to speak to him despite the brother's protests. The scowl on Lucifer's face from over your shoulder as you happily chatted with him was worth the world to him because Mephisto knew that Lucifer wouldn't try anything; not with you with your hands all over him, anyways. He adored being the center of your attention despite the fact that several brothers were watching closely. You often slipped away from the brothers and escaped to the room you knew he'd be in. He didn't know if what you were doing was intentional or not, but he began to grow conditioned to seeing you laid out on the plush sofa by his desk, or parked on the desk itself, waiting for him with a smile and open arms. It got to the point where he was certain he saw more of you that any of the brothers did.

He was unsure about how to feel, but he welcomed you into his life readily. It became more than just being with you to make Lucifer mad. It became being with you just to be with you, because he enjoyed your company. However, he always felt as if he left something to be desired when he thought about you. You always left his heart aflutter with your touches, even though he wanted to assume it was just how you behaved normally.

A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his arm, a hand on his. Sometimes, a hand on his waist, fingers looped through his belt loops. A hand on his chest, playing with his tie. A hand on his face, thumbs gliding over his cheeks. A hand on his thigh, hidden under the table.

They all drove him insane.

It was then he realized he harbored some sort of feelings for the human who'd initially started as just the topic of an article he was writing. He craved your attention and wanted to be as close to you as possible. He knew that went past what he'd initially thought about himself. While you were simply a human, you were a human who'd managed to capture the affections of the seven demon lords, and beyond.

A party at his place was what finally unraveled everything. Despite it being his party and therefore, the center of attention, he was only interested in one person. He knew you'd gotten ready in his bedroom as an effort to prevent the brothers from stopping you from going. They, of course, weren't invited, but he wouldn't be surprised if they showed up always once they realized where you were. He knew at this point, he should just give you your own room. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He had many empty bedrooms and could easily make one into yours, but he loved sharing his space with you. Something inside him loved seeing your things intermingled with his, and he didn't want to part with that.

But, he hadn't seen you since he went downstairs to begin greeting guests. His eyes scanned the room, searching for you. He thought he saw the flash of a familiar blond head of hair, but he swept past that. His gaze soon settled on the person he was looking for: you. You were chatting with another guest, but as soon as you noticed his stare, you excused yourself from the conversation to make your way over to him. He began to think about you, and how much happier he'd be once you were by his side. He greeted you enthusatically and told you how amazing you looked. You naturally slotted into his side, hands on his shoulders.

In his haze, he failed to notice someone behind him. They bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink all over you. He quickly turned to reprimand them, and to catch their face, but they had vanished into the crowd before he could. Mephisto clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. The perpetrator had been swallowed by the evermoving crowd of people. Instead, he went back to you, and decided to help you get cleaned up. You seemed nonchalant about the entire situation, and were happy holding his hand as he dragged you up the stairs to his room.

"Mephi, there's no need to be so worked up. It's a simple fix. If the stain doesn't come out, it was only twenty bucks anways." You kept pace with him.

"It's a matter of dignity. Whoever that was embarrassed me, and now I look like a total moron." He couldn't look at you. His face was most certainly red.

"Not to me you don't." Those words quelled the inner calamity he had a little.

"Well, either way, the stain will set in if we don't do something about it now." He pulled you into his room and locked the door behind you. The last thing he wanted was some nosy demon wandering in after the two of you. If you didn't care what they thought, why should he? But, he didn't want his time with you to be interrupted.

He peered into his closet for something for you to wear. Usually, you had clothes here, hung up, something he was rather proud of, but everything but a couple R.A.D. uniforms were gone. Earlier that day, he'd instructed his staff to wash all your laundry, clean or not, with a new detergent that the both of you quickly fell in love with at the store. It had become both of yours, in a way, and he went feral over the idea of the brothers constantly being reminded of him even when he wasn't around through you.

"Do you want to go back to the party?" He leant out of his closet to yell to you.

"Depends. Anyone important down there?" You responded through the shut bathroom door.

"Not really. Lord Diavolo couldn't make it tonight." He already knew what you were going to say in responce.

"Then we can just get ready for bed. My RAD bag is in here somewhere, so I don't technically have to go home. If you'll let me stay, that is." He heard you laugh through the door. He chortled to himself at that too. You didn't even need to ask anymore. You slept in his bed with him, for crying out loud. You even had your own D.D.D. charger for his house at his side table, right next to his.

"Are you alright with wearing my pajamas to bed? Yours are in the wash." He riffled through his wardrobe to find a very nice pair for you. He eventually settled on one of his sets of black silk pajamas. He wasn't sure if the pants would fit you, but at least you'd have a shirt.

"You know me." You extended your hand through the cracked bathroom door, to which he tossed the clothes into your open hand. You caught them, and snapped the door shut again to put them on. "Mephi, the pants are a little big." He heard you say through the door. Just as he thought. He'd never actually seen you in a set of his clothes before, so he silently prepared himself to feast his eyes. Despite this, he was not ready for you when you stepped in from the bathroom. The blank pants were draped over your arms, and the black button up top fell to your mid thigh. "Just hang these back up. No use in trying that." You put them back into his hands, and threw yourself down onto his bed. He did as you asked, and sat next to you.

"Are your other clothes still in the bathroom?" He studied your side profile.

"Yeah, on the counter." You answered his questions.

"I'll be right back. I'll give those to one of my staff, who'll get the stain out and get it looking brand new." He moved to get back up, but was stopped by your hand reaching out to him.

"Not yet. Let me enjoy a little time with you first." You whined. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'll be quick." He moved to get up again, but this time, you got up before him and pushed him back down onto the bed. You straddled him, hands on both of his shoulders, pressing him into his bed.

"You've got no choice now." You triumphally smirked down at him. He knew he could easily get up, but he knew he wouldn't. You knew that too.

"Mc..." He was rather amused, but he couldn't stop from thinking about his feelings for you. Most of his confidence went out the window with that thought.

"I win." With that, you draped yourself over him fully, and Mephisto basked in your attention. As he thought more, while he really didn't want to, his heart told him now would be a great time to tell you how he felt. With the thought of now or never echoing in his brain, he opened his mouth again.

"Mc, I have a confession." He was nervous, more than he'd ever been. But, he was too deep in now to back out.

"Hmm?" You didn't sit up, and remained with your head on his chest.

"I think I'm in love with you." For someone usually so eloquent with his words, these were raw. Thankfully, they seemed to strike a chord with you. You perked up. He studied your face closely for any sort of negative reaction, but none came.

"Can I kiss you?" He was almost stunned by your reciprocation. He wasn't quite sure exactly how you felt yet, but that could wait until after his kiss.

"You may." Spilling that drink on you may have been the second best choice he ever made, the first being deciding to write about you to begin with. He was one lucky demon.

(end was a little rushed cause i'm sleepy haha)

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto x mc #obey me mephisto x reader #oneshot #gn reader

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swarvey · 4 months ago

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paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you decide to surprise harvey with a belated birthday gift; harvey tries to fight off some unwelcome thoughts. warnings -> none! harvey just has some horny thoughts. wc -> 3357

a/n: surprise, an update!!

i loved writing this chapter. i actually feel like this song could have fit well as this story's title as well!! very excited for the upcoming chapters, though i am a little sad to think this will eventually have to end </3

well, either way, hope you enjoy ! <333 seeing y'all comment and stuff honestly is so heartwarming, so thank you all!!!

ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12

paper rings masterlist

chapter eleven: state of grace -> "this is the golden age of something good and right and real."

Your eyes opened to the warmth of sunlight flowing through your window, a relaxed breath escaping you. A pleasant smile settled on your face as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and remembering the words Harvey had confessed to you the previous night.

I love you.

For a split second, you wondered if you dreamt it all, if it’d all been too good to be true.

Then, you saw that the bouquet was still missing from its usual spot on your wall, and you knew it had all been real.

You grinned, sitting up with a renewed energy. Finally, you were able to wrench out the phrase you craved to hear from your best friend. Despite the efforts — and pain — it took to get there, you still managed to do it, which, in your eyes, was all that really mattered.

You recalled the insecurities Harvey had spilled to you; more so, how he felt he didn’t deserve you. Out of everything that happened, those words hurt by far the most. You saw the torn, broken look in his eyes, knowing him well enough to see past it and realize his wounds weren’t fresh. You didn’t even want to know how long his horrid thoughts had stewed in his head. Probably way too long. What a terrible way to spend his birthday.

Then, an idea struck you — one that you knew would take the majority of the day and your best efforts, but you felt in your heart it would all be worth it to see his face light up. Besides, Harvey had never hesitated in the past to put you at the top of his list of priorities.

You figured it was time to give back.

“Forgive me.”

“Elliott, please—”

“I know,” the overly dramatic poet choked out, grasping Harvey’s hand with both of his as if his life depended on it. “It’s terrible of me to ask you this, I know, but please, forgive me for the trouble I caused, my friend. I just . . .” Elliott looked up at the doctor, his bottom lip trembling and eyes filled with guilt. “I just couldn’t stand the feeling of lying to Leah, and I knew she had no ill intentions, either, but— oh, I know it’s no excuse for what I did!”

After his birthday, Harvey decided it was finally time to reconnect with his two supportive friends, shooting them both quick texts to meet him at the Stardrop the following evening. He roughly explained everything that happened with you, not forgetting to mention the stinging silence he initially left you with. Elliott’s face dropped when he got to the part where you told him you knew about everything, how Leah had taken the big step to be the one to tell you. Fortunately, his friends were as understanding as ever, more happy than anything that he got the chance to reconcile with you.

Unfortunately, Elliott decided the guilt weighing on his shoulders could only be lifted by apologizing for nearly twenty minutes straight.

“And here I thought my life couldn’t get any worse,” Shane gruffed, only half joking. He proceeded to roll his eyes so hard Harvey worried he would hurt himself. “Fuckin’ hell, just forgive him already, would ya, doc? I can’t stand this anymore.”

Harvey scratched the back of his neck before placing his free hand on Elliott’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s fine, Elliott, I promise,” he replied, unable to keep the amusement out of his tone. “It’s my fault for not telling her, after all. Besides, it all worked out, anyhow.”

“A-are you certain?” He leaned forward, nearly toppling over his seat onto the Stardrop’s floor. “How can you be so kind? It’s truly inspiring, doctor, you must let me buy you a meal for your generosity!”

“With what money, pal?”

Elliott fell back into his seat with a huff, managing a glare at his friend before sipping his drink. “With the money I made from selling my first novel, thank you oh-so very much.”

Harvey blinked in surprise, while Shane gawked at him. “Are you being serious?”

Elliott’s chest puffed up in pride. “Completely. Of course, my first patron was Leah, but I’m planning on having a live book reading at the library soon!” Harvey smiled warmly at the sight of his friend’s joyful expression, proud to see his hard work come to fruition.

Then, Shane frowned slightly and shifted in his seat. “What, so you didn’t even bother to ask me for one? C’mon, the least you could do after buggin’ me about this damn book for nearly a year is offer me a copy. Geez.”

A pause. “You . . . actually want one?”

“Yeah, yeah, save the sap, it’ll make me barf.” He paused. “It’s kid-friendly, right? I’ll get two, give one to Jas. Maybe one for Vincent, too, fuck it.”

Harvey could only laugh as he watched Elliott pull Shane into an unreciprocated hug, his eyes gleaming with grateful tears and he tightly wrapped his arms around him. Despite his loud, profanity-filled protests, there was a light in Shane’s gaze that hadn’t been there a couple seasons ago. After promising to see the therapist Harvey recommended to him, he’d slowly begun to make progress, even deciding to replace his usual beer at the saloon with a glass of pop instead.

“Alright, enough!” Shane finally regained his stance in his seat, running a hand through his ruffled hair. He mumbled something neither of them could hear, but Elliott beamed nonetheless.

“I hope you’ll save me one, Elliott,” Harvey said sincerely. “Though, by the looks of it, you might have quite the fan already.”

“Shut it, doc.”

Elliott let out a hearty laugh and gestured to Emily for an order. “Well then, my dear doctor, you must emphasize on your reunion with your lover,” he pressed on, looking at him eagerly, “but not before I order you a promised meal.”

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Emily asked as she wandered over, looking at the three with a bright smile. Her gaze stopped at Harvey. “Hey, what a nice surprise! I haven’t seen you here in a bit. I hope you’re doing alright, people have been saying they haven’t seen much of you lately.”

He cleared his throat, nodding. “There were a few . . . things, I had to deal with, but it’s all cleared up now.”

She hummed, but something about her look was a little too knowing. “Well, that’s all that matters, right? As long as you’re okay.” She leaned in a little then, close enough so she could whisper in his ear. “Haley’s just about ready to murder you, though. Thought I should give you a heads up.”

She smiled sympathetically when Harvey groaned, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t even bother to hear what Elliott ordered him and focused on the fact that one of your closest friends in town was probably plotting his murder.

“Everyone knows, don’t they?” he asked, voice muffled. He lowered his hands to see Shane hiding his smirk with his drink while Elliott sighed.

“I wish I could tell you otherwise, but yes,” the writer responded promptly. “I wouldn’t fear too much, though, especially if the two of you are on good terms! I’m sure she’ll clear the air.”

The door to the saloon opened, and — as if your mentioning had summoned you — you walked in wearing your work clothes, dirt and grass stains covering the front of your overalls. Your eyes met his immediately, and Harvey instantly looked away, feeling as if he had just seen his crush in the hallway. You tended to have that effect on him.

After the two of you shared a kiss the night before, he insisted on walking you home, tightly holding your hand the entire way. He was visibly reluctant to leave your side, allowing himself to, for once, be as clingy as he felt. When the two of you reached your front porch, he’d grabbed your hips and drew you closer to his body, looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.

“We have a long way to go, don’t we?” he asked softly, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

You hummed in agreement, turning slightly to kiss his palm. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, right?” Your eyes seemed to glitter when he looked at you, his breath faltering.

Harvey didn’t know why your words made him feel the way he did — then again, he couldn’t explain a lot of things he felt when it came to you — but in that moment, a wave of gratefulness washed over him, and he couldn’t help but pull you in for another gentle kiss. He thought back to what you had told him all those years ago, how he had good karma, and he decided you might have been right after all. There was no other explanation as to why you were still in his arms after all the trouble he caused.

“You truly are my weakness,” he blurted suddenly. “My vulnerability, the crack in my defense. I think I would do anything for you.”

You laughed at his words, and the sound made his heart race. “You’ve been hanging out with Elliott too much.” You paused then, leaning in closer to his ear. “Is that a promise, Harvs? Anything?”

He shivered, swallowing hard. “Of course.”

Just when he thought he’d earned another taste of your lips — a rougher one maybe, one that led to your bedroom — you pulled away, sporting a mischievous half-smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chirped happily. “Goodnight!”

Harvey let out another groan at the thought, trying to ignore the stir in his pants. We’ll take it slow, he reminded himself, not even noticing your figure appearing beside him. We have all the time in the world.

“Earth to Harvey, hello?” you sang, waving a hand in front of his face. “You there? Or is nobody home?”

He scowled as his friends stifled their laughter, though managed a smile when he turned to greet you. “Hello,” he sighed, pushing his glasses up. “Ignore them, please. I’m not sure why I associate with them.”

“Hey, a ‘thank you’ would be nice, buddy,” Shane said, voice dripping in leftover humor. “We’re the ones who’ve listened to all your little love-sick rants.”

You perked a brow. “Love-sick, huh?”

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” Harvey desperately suggested, taking out his wallet and throwing some coins on the table for his drinks. “I’ll talk to you two later. And, thank you,” he rushedly added. As he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the saloon, he missed their lopsided grins at his words.

Harvey let out a long breath as he stepped outside, resting his hands on his hips. “I felt like I was suffocating in there,” he admitted, finding your hand once again.

You snorted. “Looked like it,” you replied, lacing your fingers with his. “I was looking for you, anyway. Did you get my text?”

He blinked, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his other hand to find one unread message from you.

Y/N : you at the saloon? i’ve got a surprise for you

“A surprise?” he wondered aloud. “For me?”

“Yes, Harvey, that’s what I said.” You smiled at his embarrassed frown, leading him through the plaza toward the clinic. “C’mon, I’ve been working on it all day!”

Just as he was about to question you further, a figure with long blonde hair and a blue tank top marched in front of him, successfully cutting off his hold on you.

“Don’t think I’ll forgive you as easily,” Haley snapped, and Harvey flinched at her furious tone. “You’re a real lucky guy, you know that, right? ‘Cause if I were her, I would have taken those glasses and shoved ‘em right up your—”

“Haley! There you are,” Leah laughed awkwardly as she grabbed the blonde’s arm, attempting to tug her away. “We’re going to miss the movie, dear. Let’s go.” She turned to Harvey, and he was glad to be met with much kinder eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright, Harvey. We’ll see you around.” Leah’s eyes lit up. “Oh, and happy birthday! Even though it’s a day late.”

“Thank you,” he responded, anxiously glancing at Haley. A pout rested on her lips as her partner nudged her.

“Yeah, whatever, happy birthday, I guess,” she mumbled, and you laughed at her reaction. Her expression lightened after that, the ends of her mouth lifting slightly. “I expect a call later, okay?”

“Will do.” You waved at the couple as they walked away, grabbing Harvey’s arm and continuing to lead him. “She’s pretty mad, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Really?” he asked dryly, fiddling with his tie. “I thought she seemed quite happy to see me.” You rolled your eyes, excitedly bringing him up the stairs to the fountain. “What is it, exactly?”

“What’s, what?”

“The surprise.”

You huffed, walking past the fountain. “Well, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?”

“I . . . suppose not, no.”

“Then be patient, we’re almost there.”

You only stopped when the two of you reached the Community Center, two birds chirping curiously down at your arrival. Harvey examined the building, noticing how, despite it looking as beat up as it usually did, it felt more welcoming.

Before he could continue, you swiftly snatched his glasses off his face, covering his eyes with your hands.

“What—”

“Just go with it, Harvs, please? ”

The pleading tone of your request nearly sent him spiraling. Nearly.

Take it slow.

He nodded, swallowing thickly once again. You’re going to be the death of me, he thought. He almost voiced it to you the door opened, but was interrupted before he got the chance.

“I felt a little bad yesterday night,” you admitted, leading him somewhere unknown. “With everything going on between us, it was hard to plan something for your birthday.”

He sighed, a pang of guilt running through his chest. “Now, you know none of that is—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you interrupted. “It’s over now, and we’re . . . good. Better than good, I think.” Harvey smiled, wishing he could see your face. “And, even though it’s not really your birthday anymore, I still wanted to give you something better than a dried bouquet.”

“That bouquet means much more to me than you think. It’s all I need, really,” he said softly, then willed himself to say his next words. “You’re all I need.”

“And you’re being a big ‘ol softie.”

Suddenly, he felt your hands drop, slowly blinking his eyes open. Of course, at first, all he could make out were blurbs of green and white.

“Um—” Although he couldn’t see, Harvey could practically hear you roll your eyes as you passed him his glasses.

“Surprise.”

He couldn’t believe it.

In front of him was a completely refurbished room in the Community Center, the walls smooth and the flooring void of any faults. That, in itself, was impressive to him.

The room wasn’t exactly what caught his eye, though.

No, what caught Harvey’s attention was the various model planes scattered across the room, along with the small workbench in the corner.

“I had to go into the city to find those, it took me all day,” you explained, trying to read his reaction. His mouth remained parted as he walked around, taking his time to take in everything. “This is meant to be the Crafts Room. Mayor Lewis asked me to fix this place up a while ago, and that’s where I met the Junimos. Thought I’d add my own touch, though.”

Harvey nodded absentmindedly. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Quite frankly, he was in shock, unable to believe what you had done for him. His gaze only pried away when a familiar squeak sounded beneath him. He smiled as Blueberry hugged his foot.

The spirit looked at him expectedly, as if asking, Do you like it?

“It’s—” He stopped then, finally turning to face you. Warm tears filled Harvey’s eyes as he stepped forward and engulfed you in his arms, burying your face in his neck. “It’s more than I could have ever asked for. Thank you.”

He felt you slump in relief, gladly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad you like it,” you breathed, pulling back to see his face. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought it was too much.”

“No, this is perfect.” Harvey laughed, bright and unlike he’d ever laughed before, and kissed you. “I can’t even find the words to explain how I feel.”

You grinned. “Maybe ‘happy’ could give you a good start.”

“No, that’s too big of an understatement.”

“Hm. ‘Joyous,’ then?”

“I believe those are synonyms, honey.”

You blinked, a blush creeping up your neck. Harvey didn’t notice, too busy walking over to the desk that seemed made for him. Blueberry poked your ankle, and you took it as a sign to stick out your hand. The Junimo happily walked up your arm, settling down on your shoulder and closing its eyes.

“This . . . this looks just like the one I had in my grandparents’ house as a kid,” he realized, eyes widening.

“You used to spend so much time sitting there, working on your planes, ignoring me,” you added playfully. “If you ever get bored, you can come here, now. Add to your collection. You can show them off to everyone, too, after I finish rebuilding everything.”

He flushed at that, turning to meet your eyes. “No, I couldn’t, i-it’s too embarrassing—”

“Harvey. If this —” You swept your arm around the room. “—is what you enjoy, you shouldn’t hide it. It’s an important part of you, and I know everyone in town would be impressed.” You gently tugged at his hand, holding it strongly in your own. “Plus, I find it very endearing, you know.”

He raised a brow, grabbing your other hand. “Really? Building model airplanes is something you look for in a partner?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Harvey shook his head, tilting it as he studied your gaze. “This is still so surreal,” he muttered, glancing down at your interlaced fingers. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

You nodded, then smiled. “You know, I never would have guessed this.” You lifted your hands slightly, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Now that it’s real, though, I’m not sure I’ll ever let you go.”

Harvey’s heart was just about ready to leap from his chest.

“You won’t ever have to,” he vowed. “Never again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“It’s one I’m willing to make.”

“When did you get so bold?”

“When you became mine.”

Your eyes narrowed, flicking between his eyes and lips. “Is that what I am?” you questioned, voice light and innocent. “Yours?”

Slow, Harvey. You said you would take it slow.

He feigned a cough, looking away. “That’s what the bouquet meant, right?” he asked, raising one hand to swipe his mustache. “It means we’re official.”

The look you gave him was teasing, dangerous, but you covered it up with a laugh, starting to walk with him back towards the door. Blueberry had disappeared from your shoulder at some point; Harvey guessed even spirits grew tired of couples dancing around each other.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

“‘Home’?”

You looked back at him, huffing. “We’re official, right? That means you get to help me finish up the chores for the day.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

Chores. He could do chores. He’d done plenty of chores with you before, when the ache in your grandfather’s back became too much and he needed a couple extra pair of hands. Chores would be good for him, Harvey thought. They would keep his mind off the uncomfortable tightness in his pants that’d been taunting him for hours, keep his dirty thoughts at bay, hopefully even keep some distance between the two of you, just for a little. Just until he could calm himself down and remind himself he was supposed to be going slow.

“You can spend the night, too.”

His face fell.

I’m screwed.

105 notes · View notes

plutoccult · 1 year ago

Text

OUT OF THE WOODS

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: you were notorious for following levi’s every order without hesitation. it was practically unbearable for him, but the one time you disobey him is when he is eternally grateful.

word count: 2.8k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: this is something i’ve never done before aka write for levi! i’m hoping i haven’t strayed too far from his character, but it’s worth trying something new. i must admit, this is a little messy and i’m quite iffy about it, but i at least tried my best. i almost named this “the monsters turned out to be just trees” because i 1. love taylor swift and 2. thought those lyrics captured this almost perfectly, but i decided it was too long and just went with the song title those lyrics are from. this is something entirely new and never before posted anywhere else, but it will also be shared on ao3 as everyone has their preferences on where they like to read. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

you always obeyed levi’s every order, and god, he hated it.

“yes, captain.” you’d say. “right away, captain.” was another one of your go-to phrases. you could just… talk to him? like a normal human being? yes, he was your captain, but levi craved a normal conversation with you.

oh, wait. why did he want that so badly? why did he want to hear your voice say things other than replying to his commands for you and the squad? it’s not like he liked you. no, no! he couldn’t stand you. that’s what this was. right?

levi was particularly known for only listening to commander erwin’s orders and no one else’s, but he didn’t see himself of such importance. it wouldn’t kill you to protest a little bit for once. he even tested your obedience by demanding you glue a broken vase back together. you then proceeded to spend hours restoring it to its former glory. he was surely impressed, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe you actually did it. dare stubborn ol’ levi ever admit it, but he found it kind of cute.

when it came down to the 57th exterior scouting mission, your final order was simple; retreat back to your horses. things didn’t exactly go as hoped, and while the scouts learned something new that day, there was still so much work to do. you wished for everyone’s sake that one day you all could share a proper victory, but it didn’t seem possible just yet with something as stubborn as the female titan.

you and the rest of levi’s squad did as told, but it all went by the wayside when gunther was attacked out of the blue by a figure hidden under the disguise of your scout gear, their green hood concealing their face. there was no time to go along with the plan, now was time to fight back. the squad couldn’t let whoever killed their comrade get away.

as you all attempted to attack, the disguised assailant transformed in front of your very eyes into the female titan you all failed to successfully capture before. now this truly meant war, but the squad was simply no match for this monster.

it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. you lost your squad members one after another. you were the last one remaining, you knew this was it. this was your time to die, wasn’t it? part of you always thought it would end in the middle of battle, but not like this. this couldn’t be the end. you didn’t want it to be.

your brain struggled to catch up with everything happening so fast and hitting you all at once. it was impossible to think straight, to get your head together and fight properly. but it was also impossible to realize eren was turning into his titan form until it was too late. the impact of his transformation knocked you straight into a tree, leaving you unconscious as he avenged your fallen squad members, all while your captain had yet to head to the scene of the crime.

levi immediately knew something was wrong the second he saw the sudden glow of eren’s transformation from afar. of course there was something more to this mission. he had to get there quick before it could possibly get any worse, but his idea of “any worse” had already become true; his squad was gone.

he couldn’t do anything to stop eren just yet, levi knew that. this fight between two titan shifters was to be expected. if only the hothead wasn’t so blinded by rage. levi knew better than to let emotions get to the best of him, no matter how much it hurt seeing his squad like this, dying under his wing.

his eyes scanned the states of everyone. gunther, eld, petra, oluo, and then… you. you, who laid there motionless. the life taken out of you, or so levi thought. he couldn’t let this affect him. levi kept all emotions hidden, tucked and buried in deep where no one could find them, no one except the one person who was capable of bringing them out.

“captain…”

huh?! was his mind playing tricks on him? who dared to deceive his ears? it couldn’t be real. it was nothing. nothing at all. you were dead, levi was sure of it, just like the rest of the squad. he was left alone once again, seemingly cursed with this fate from the day he was born.

but then you let out a cough, blood coming out of your mouth and splattering onto the grass. my god, it wasn’t some sick joke from his brain. you miraculously were alive, and levi was too stubborn to let you die out.

he immediately rushed over to you and flipped you off your side so you laid on your back. you breathed heavily and coughed violently, muttering out weak apologies as blood stained your hands, but levi didn’t care. he’d stain himself over and over for your sake.

“you disobeyed orders.” levi said, trying his best to force himself to stay his usual coldhearted self, but it was a losing battle, just like today’s mission. he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes once filled with anger now becoming soft. “you disobeyed me.”

you could’ve sworn the sight in front of you was like seeing heaven. the impact from earlier made your memories quite hazy, and while you knew you weren’t dead, you sure wouldn’t hate it if this was it. levi’s head blocking the sun made him look like an angel sent from the very land itself, and it was pure bliss.

you closed your eyes with a smile on your face, unbeknownst to you what had truly occurred. to your captain, it seemed like you had left him for good this time, but when he pressed his ear against your chest, he felt the rhythm of your heart as if it were a symphony.

levi couldn’t stand to leave you like this. he had to make sure you got to safety and were treated right away. even if it took you god knows how long to recover, it didn’t matter. but with the female titan trying to take eren alive, he had to remember why he was here in the first place and attempt to clean up the mess the scouts created. you were able to hold out for a little while longer by some sort of miracle, and when levi was able to capture eren back with the help of mikasa, he took you back to where you belonged; with him and the scouts.

by the time you returned to base, you were fast asleep, worn out from the mission. as there wasn’t enough room for all those who were injured, levi took matters into his own hands and tended to your wounds himself, even giving you his bed as he had a much bigger room and it wasn’t like he slept that much anyway. it seemed almost wrong and unprofessional to do so, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish. it’s what a good captain would do anyway, right?

after what felt like ages, you finally woke up, your mind struggling to remember everything from yesterday. you grew confused as you found yourself in what wasn’t your room, and it became even more puzzling as you saw your captain sitting in a chair next to the bed waiting for you to wake up.

the look of impatience and worry was all you could read from his face and body language. his arms crossed, index finger tapping repeatedly like a drum on his bicep. he was looking away from you, watching the wind blow on the trees outside. levi had been using that view to pass the time and keep himself calm, but it didn’t really help much. only the sound of your voice was medicine to him.

“captain?”

levi lightly jumped in his seat and turned to see your face. you had been bandaged up, not a single wound left dirty. you were also quite bruised, and you immediately winced when you tried to adjust the way you sat. you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to you. if only you hadn’t hit your head so bad.

“you’re awake.” he said plainly. he didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm and freak you out, but on the inside, levi was so glad to see you were okay. the look of confusion on your face made him worry, and he felt the need to overshare and explain what was going on. “uh, this is my room. i took care of you since there wasn’t enough help.”

“oh?” you furrow your eyebrows. “what… what happened?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing, y/n.” levi replied. he had been waiting all this time to hear the truth of what happened. you saw what had happened to your fellow squad members, but with the way you lost consciousness, you had a hard time remembering it all. you could only draw blanks, and you felt as if you disappointed your captain.

“i’m… not sure. i don’t remember. i’m sorry.” you frown.

“i figured.” he sighed. he couldn’t get too mad, but part of him longed for an explanation so he could know where everything went wrong.

“where is everyone? surely petra must have helped you with this, right?” you ask, the question paining levi without you knowing a thing. “you couldn’t have done all of this by yourself.”

levi found himself unable to think about how to go with this. he wanted to let you down easy, lessen the blow, but with that look of innocence in your eyes, you just made it so damn hard for him. “y/n, they’re all gone.”

“gone?”

“gone.” he hated having it come out so harsh, but he had to get the point across without any sugarcoating. levi couldn’t lie, it would be an incredible disservice to you.

“no…” then you began to recall all that happened yesterday; the forest, that god damn female titan, it all replayed in your mind like a never ending horror movie. “no, this is all just one big nightmare. you can pinch me now, okay?”

your delusions only made it worse for levi. he couldn’t let you fool yourself thinking there was the slightest chance they weren’t gone, but he saw, he knew. all the life had been taken out of them, and whoever was behind the monster did it so cold-heartedly. it made him seem a little more humane in the eyes of his peers, as shocking as that was.

“i found all of you scattered on the ground. i thought you died just like they did.” levi said, those last few words coming out strained as he struggled to keep it together. he couldn’t let you see him like this, no way. he had to find an excuse to leave you be so he could go somewhere and let it all out without anyone seeing him.

“this can’t be, oh god.” you sob uncontrollably, making levi uncomfortable. he felt this way because it only made him want to cry with you, but at the same time, it felt wrong to feel like that.

“i can give you space to process this.” he began to stand up, but you tug on his sleeve to stop him, much to levi’s surprise.

“no, no, no. stay.” you giving him orders? he couldn’t believe it, but he would let you stop him, just for a moment.

“it is typically me who gives orders, you know.” levi spoke deliberately.

“well.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “i order you to stay.”

and just like you always did with him, he couldn’t help but obey your order. you let go of levi’s sleeve as he sat back down in his chair, too flustered to look you in the eye.

“i just… i wanna say i’m sorry i failed the squad, but most importantly, i’m sorry i failed you.” you say, your words full of utter shame, feeling like a complete failure. it was like you had just harshly tugged at levi’s heartstrings, despite it being crazy to think that levi ackerman did in fact have a heart.

“there was nothing you could do. the female titan outsmarted all of us.” he replied in that typical monotone voice. it almost started to irritate you. you were trying to have some sort of heartfelt conversation and it seemed like he couldn’t take you seriously. levi wanted to take all of it seriously, but he continuously battled with his mind and heart, and his mind kept winning.

“but it shouldn’t have happened.” you try to protest.

“we can’t turn back time, y/n.” levi argued back.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, a huge shock on levi’s end. “god, your words are terrible.”

“excuse me?”

“don’t you know it’s okay to feel things, captain?” you ask him. “i know they call you “humanity’s strongest soldier,” but is being emotionless a requirement?”

he’s unable to form words. where had this fire in you come from? had it been hiding this whole time? where had this disobedient soul been during the entirety of levi’s reign? he couldn’t help but be shocked yet amazed at the same time.

“that squad was like family to me.” you say with tears streaming down your face. “i thought you would’ve felt the same way, but i guess that suspicion i desperately tried to push away was right.”

“…and that is?”

“that you never liked any of us, not one bit, especially…” your lips tremble, but you force yourself to finish your sentence. “especially me.”

when you said those last two words, levi almost gasped. it made him feel so… terrible. so goddamn terrible he knew he couldn’t let his mind win anymore. it was time he chose his heart for once. “that’s nowhere near how i feel, y/n.”

“and how is it that you feel, captain?” you question, refusing to let your tears stop you from standing your ground.

this was it. this was the moment levi would pour his heart out to you. you were a rare jewel who was capable of giving him those pangs in his chest. not everyone could do that, but you sure could without trying or realizing it whatsoever.

“all my life, i thought that there was no point in caring because you’ll lose it eventually, but…” he began to speak, almost tempted to hold back, but he refused to do so any longer. “all i’ve ever been given here is a reason to care, and i didn’t want to show it. i didn’t want anyone to see it, and i wish they could know that i did. i did care, more than what’s possible to express.”

your hardened expression turned soft. to think he didn’t have such feelings made you feel so stupid. it’s easy to judge a book by its cover, isn’t it? but you read levi all wrong. oh so wrong. “you did?”

“i do, even now. that applies to you too, you know.” levi replied without shame.

“i didn’t think it did.” you avert his gaze.

“it’s almost disgraceful to admit how often you cross my mind, y/n.” your eyes widen when those words escape his mouth. was this real life? it seemed too good to be true. levi immediately thought he crossed a line, so he tried to shut the situation down as quickly as he could without ruining this moment. “i’m sorry if that came out weird, i—”

“no, no! it’s not weird!” you swiftly interrupt him. “i… i could say the same thing.”

“you could?” he said in amazement. it was like he was completely oblivious. why else were you always so eager to obey his orders and make sure you never let him down? you wanted him to notice you, and now he has given you his attention in the best way possible.

“yes, which i guess is kind of odd considering this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” you say with a faint giggle towards the end. “it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances, really.”

“i know, and i’d like more, if you do too. it’s not an order, i swear.” levi replied eagerly, which was a pleasant surprise.

“i’d like that, captain.” you grin.

“can i… give you an order though?” he asked with a bit of hesitance.

“seems like poor timing to me, don’t you think?” you question, almost tempted to laugh at him, but you were going to see where this went.

“it’s not. i just… would prefer it if you called me levi from now on, please.” as if this couldn’t get any better. levi was saying “please” to you. god, you loved it.

“okay, levi. now i have an order for you.” you say with a smirk. “have a cup of tea with me, and you’re making it.”

levi smiled at the thought of what he would say next. “right away, y/n.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #aot levi #snk levi #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #levi fanfiction #pluto writes 📝

289 notes · View notes

always-andromeda · 2 years ago

Note

aaaAAA valentines prompts are here!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) weeee please spare some white chocolate truffle for love of my life dwayne? thank you dearest, compliments to the chef (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

– 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aHH okay this was super cute!! I hope you enjoy this one, anon!! also lmao, yes, the title is a song. it's from Yellow House and it always reminds me of Dwayne. <3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Dwayne is aged up to be high school senior, pure fluff, bits of Dwayne being a little pessimistic guy, nothing else I can think of!

First period hadn't even started yet and already you could tell that Dwayne was itching for the final bell. He sighed, folding his hands together and resting his chin on top of them. You watched him peer out from under his curtain of dark hair at a few students around you both exchanging cards, candies, and little stuffed toys.

"Doing okay there, Dwayne?" you asked as you unloaded your textbook and your binder.

He threw you a sideways glance and replied blankly, "I'm a ray of sunshine." Whatever modicum of patience he usually had in school was drained entirely by Valentine's Day.

"Oh, yeah. You're looking especially chipper today."

This time, Dwayne turned to look at you fully with his brow furrowed.

"It's a joke."

"Have you seen what's been going on today?"

"Uh, yeah, it's a holiday," you shrugged.

"It's bullshit. It's an excuse for fucking candy and card companies to make a killing," he sneered. "Because if you don't buy your boyfriend or girlfriend a stupid piece of paper that says 'I love you' then you're obviously a bad person, right?"

You scoffed, "Not exactly."

That earned another scowl from Dwayne.

"Listen, I get what you mean. It can be superficial and overbearing sometimes, I guess." You struggled to conjure the right words to explain yourself in a way that Dwayne would understand, "But...it's nice sometimes, ya know? It's nice to have someone show that they thought about you."

"Please," Dwayne dismissed. "It's not about thought or care. It's all...bullshit social transactions that no one is gonna give a shit about after we graduate anyways. It's just...dumb."

Placing a hand over the top of your binder defensively, the more Dwayne spoke, the more you found a lump forming in your throat. It made it even harder to speak as you choked out, "Dumb?"

"Yeah. And...gross," he huffed with an air of stubbornness. He'd never been particularly fond of the holiday; the unnecessary drama of couples asking each other to be their Valentine and the gossip that came from rejections for days afterwards. But...you thought...

With a new wave of frustration, you flipped open the cover of your binder and pulled a card out from the inside flap. You slid it across the top of the table in Dwayne's direction. "Then there's a stupid card for you, Dwayne. Happy Valentine's Day," you added bitterly.

Dwayne froze. Already, the cover threw him off. There was the haunting phrase of the day written out in your handwriting and above it, a drawing of a bouquet of flowers in glitter gel pens. Slowly, he opened the card, finding more of your handwriting hiding inside.

I know this is super cliche. And you're probably going to roll your eyes at me when you read this. Promise me you won't hate me too much. Or at least promise me you'll spare me the embarrassment and forget this immediately after you read it. I just had to try at least once. But I really like you. Will you be my Valentine?

With your head hidden in your folded arms, you could only guess what you and Dwayne looked like to the rest of your classmates. Already, you were anticipating how that scene would get spun. Everyone talked about how you and Dwayne were bound to end up together, seeing as you're one of the only people that would willingly hang around with the reclusive guy. And one of the only people that he would actually let hang around him.

Your first thought after that was to think about Dwayne. He didn't like being the center of attention. Being talked about like this would be the most aggravating thing in the world. And god, it frustrated you that even when he was being a jerk, you still worried about him.

Then you felt a poke on your shoulder. You raised your head and found Dwayne, still looking at the card and tracing the flowers on the cover. But this time his hand was on the table, open with his palm facing up. Inviting you to grab it. Which you do, quickly.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he muttered.

You sniffed softly. "That's okay."

"I like the card."

"Thanks."

“And I'll be–" Dwayne paused. "I'll be your Valentine."

The exhilaration inside you flared so intensely that you couldn't help but squeeze his hand in return. And Dwayne also couldn't help the tiny smile that formed on his lips when he felt the warmth of your sweaty hand enveloping his. Maybe both of you could be right about Valentine's Day. It was gross. But...nice. Very nice.

#chocolate box valentine event❣️#paul dano #danonation #danocel #little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover x y/n #dwayne hoover fluff #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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david-goldrock · 3 months ago

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Id like to compliment your hebrew song choices for translation, if youd like no criticism stop reading here and סופ״ש נעים

If you dont mind, id like to note that the approach you seem to be taking prioritises approximating a 1:1 ratio between the original lyrics and your translations rather than conveying the meaning and imagery more eloquently. I feel that a lot of the beauty of the original text is lost when you go about it like this, maybe you should read english prose to get a feel for a natural and smooth lyricsm. Much love.

first of all, THANKS!

second of all, you are VERY right, this is a very deliberate choice, and it has its downsided

For the monolinguals: any complicated text CANNOT be actually translated one-to-one. all translations flow between "literal text oriented" and "meaning oriented", between "original grammar following" to "translated grammar following", and how much the meter and rhymes are kept.

My favorite example is the second verse of Ecclesiastes. In hebrew it goes like this:

"הבל הבלים אמר קהלת, הבל הבלים הכל הבל"

How would you translate it?

Let's start by writing the text in english letters, so the problem is more easily shown:

Hevel Havalim amar Kohelet, Hevel Havalim haokl Hevel

Now let's tackle the easy words

Hevel Hevels said Kohelet, Hevel Hevels everything is Hevel

Now there are 3 stuff to tackle

Kohelet: it is used as a name, but most scholars agree it's a title for Solomon, meaning something like "He who gathers a crowd". should it be translated as a name or a title? maybe as the name of the book in the christian world, Ecclesiastes?

Hevel: It's a very complicated word, it represents a fleeting breath, but also fleetingness itself, and also meaninglessness itself. many choose meaningless or meaninglessness in this verse, but another verse the author calls childhood Hevel, should we believe that the author means that childhood is meaningless? maybe it should be fleeting in this context?

<x> <x>s: a hebrew expression meaning "The most something of something", for example "king of kings" would mean "The most king of the kings" or "The most important king of the kings" or "The king over all the kings". Should it be translated in the simplest way (king of kings) or with added interpretation (the king over all the kings)?

How did the official translators handle it? they didn't Here are a few options they chose:

I could continue for ages, it seems like every single translation translated these lines differently

Add to that the fact that even though I read english prose and listen to english songs, my vocubulary is obviously smaller than a mother-tongue speaker, and the choice becomes very easy

I translate as literally as I can (most of the time). I often add context in (red brackets), but no more than that. The reader can use their imagination to find the english version (or native language for a double-translation mess) they think fits the most, but I will make a very literal translation

That is with one main exceptions: phrases that mean different things in hebrew and english. for example, the hebrew לעשות חשבון does have a literal translation: doing math. but in english, doing the math means something like "adding one plus one", and not at all the hebrew meaning of "caring about what people think of you". In cases like these, I try to add a bit of interpretation, and sometimes write the original in red brackets

These are not strong rules by any means, I am doing this for fun after all, sometimes I get lazy, sometimes I forget that something is a phrase and automatically translate the meaning etc. But this is the reason

If someone else wants to go after the translations and add more interpretation so it sounds poetic, I'd be ecstatic. But to do that, I'd need to be able to write english songs and prose myself, and I am not of that level yet

If someone wants to see what that approach to translation looks like, may I recommend the amazing translation of "hallelujah" to Yiddish. it translated the meaning to Yiddish, and then the literal text to the english subtitles, showing exactly what it looks out

youtube

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worldismyne · 3 months ago

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Iceberg Bing for layer 3 and 4.

My memory is really bad, so some of these might have already appeared in earlier layers.

AMVs - Either specific songs that were popular to use in the fandom, or any fanmade content from during the manga's run that was popular

Soul and Maka Split up - Apparently this interpretation of Maka and Soul's final discussion in the manga is a hot take. There was a lot going on in the final chapter, but here are the phrases from the manga that gave me that impression.

Will cross this box off for any analysis from that final chapter tho.

Thompson Twins - Can't remember if this specific reference was pointed out, but stands in for any pop culture references brought to light.

The Dress - This is a newer development, but at some point this dress got listed on Devil Inspired and advertised heavily on instagram.

A bunch of Chrona cosplayers independently saw it and adopted it. (There were at least 3 or 4 at the first con I went to after it was listed). It's so prolific I've seen it in fanart of Chrona now.

Mary Shelly Theory - Saw someone in the tag a while back theorize Marie might be an allusion to Mary Shelly. It would add a layer to the electricity power outside of the Mjolnir reference.

New Art - Any mention of the 20th anniversary drops. (It didn't fit well in the square)

Purple/Pink Gate - Another one I can't remember if it's already been covered. Despite most fan artists color picking a dusty rose for Crona's hair, lavender wigs are still more common for cosplayers. I am a pink wig truther.

Shinobi - Okay, this is a PS2 game that predates the manga by two years. The main mechanic is a katana that sucks the lifeforce/soul of the user unless it's constantly fed other souls. I am fairly sure this is the inspiration of the uncanny sword. Even the cover art gives post time skip vibes.

If not, both pieces of media have to be referencing the same thing.

Zagreus + Dionysus : Death the Kid's role in SE has similarities with the god of the rebirth. Particularly the part of the legends where he's dismembered and eaten. There is some confusion in greek mythology if these are just different names for the same god or just two gods whose roles overlap, thus why I put both names.

Ragnarok - Particularly how he stops being a character after Salvage. Will also check off for mention of the war of the gods.

Merch - There's a lot of merch out there. Apparently they made a speaker inspired by bonus art. I'm sure there's a bunch of official stuff I haven't seen before.

Official Cosplay - There's a few talking points here that come to mind. Like how Soul is the only weapon with an official cosplay prop. Any Spirit, Ragnarok or Tsubaki props you see were made by the cosplayer. Death the Kid rings get sold one at a time, even if they're advertised as a set.

Translations goofs - There's little things like Afreet and Kishen being used interchangeably in the sub. The Witch hunter evolutions have a few different names. I'm sure there's other translation stuff that I don't know about that might pop up.

Demi-god Black Star - Another umbrella square. Black Star's arc towards the end seems to be referencing something specific. Idk what it is, but Marie goes out of her way to put him and Death the Kid on the same level and snubs Maka at the end of the manga.

The Dread Queen - Comparing Chrona to Persephone is really common in the Kirona crowd. After listening to some deeper dives on the topic there's actually precedence for them to be an allusion ancient underworld goddess that predates Persephone and Hades, but not the abduction myth. They're never referred by name only by titles. Crona's name being literally Dark One in Japanese fits with this theme, as well as usually being referred to as the Demon Sword rather than by their given name. This could be more coincidence than anything else though.

Unlocalized content - The iceberg has already covered the games, but there might be audio dramas or other in-character content that didn't make it's way over when SE was popular in the US.

#soul eater

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local-crying-boy · 7 months ago

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Not me who made a Hadir Karim playlist because I couldn't find any and had to put matters into my own hands..

Playlist link for those who actually want to listen here

Not like it's a very long one or one that might be very connected to Hadir, just songs that make me think of him every time they start playing.

Here are the songs that are on the playlist:

1. waiting Room (Phoebe Bridgers)

“Know it’s for the better” He stole the gas and used it because he wanted Urzikstan to be free. And “Plus, I know whatever happened to me, I know it’s for the better” because let’s be honest he probably knew he was going to die at some point, and he knew that it most likely wasn’t going to be from natural causes, not with the war he grew up in.

2. Fool (Bôa)

“You and I, born as fools now.” I don’t know what it is about this line, but it hits and it makes me think of Hadir. Maybe because he used the gas, making Farah despise him. “You and I think, think we rule now” this mf became Commander at some point, which just ENRAGES Farah, no?

3. O Superman (Laurie Anderson)

Well, does this song need any explaining? I found this song on a Farah playlist (made by one of my favourite Tumblr accounts, hence me making a post about the Hadir playlist). So if this song makes me think of Farah, it immediately makes me think of Hadir.

4. Love and War (Fluerie)

Love and War, says it in the title, no? Plus, “the truth begins to show”? Him using the stolen gas to save Farah and Alex, but only killing the Russian army and some ULF soldiers (if I remember correctly). And don’t even get me started on “lover, hunter, friend and enemy, you will always be every one of these.” UGHHH it's such a good line and I think that it represents Hadir very well, maybe alongside Farah too.

5. In the house - In a Heartbeat (John Murphy)

Do I really need a reason for this song? It's so good and it makes me think of numerous edit ideas (despite the fact that I give up on editing the minute I open Capcut), just the vibe and sound reminds me of Hadir, makes me think of his whole character development, his story, ect:

6.Forest (Twenty One Pilots)

"The situation's becoming dire" The line makes me think of the moment when Hadir calls Alex to help him get the gas, making it be used and everything kicking off and him becoming the enemy. "And for some reason I smell gas on my hands" well, this needs no explanation. "This is not what I had planned" Although I think that Hadir knew that Farah would have gone against him the moment he decided to use the gas, I feel like he wouldn't expect her to basically turn on him so much that it seemed like she didn't love him anymore.

7.Army Dreamers (Kate Bush)

I think everyone can see why I put this song on here, not only because it is such an amazing song, but also because Hadir is obviously a solider. Also, I know the song's meaning is about a mother grieving her son dying because of war. HOWEVER, the song does heavily remind me of PTSD that soldiers suffer from (more so from the music video where all their eyes are wide, which kinda is like Shell Shock/PTSD), and I'm 100% certain that Hadir, like any other character is CoD, would suffer from some type of mental illness, or nightmares, or grief/guilt from being soldiers.

8. I know it's over (The Smiths)

The repeat phrase of 'Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head" just makes me think of how he died and, in my head, I have an image of him just dead and, well, we know his and Farah's parents are dead. I don't know how to explain it exactly, been staring at this paragraph trying to figure out what the hell I'm trying to say. But it just makes me think a lot of him and his mother, because I seriously get vibes from him that he was a mama's boy before she passed.

9. Advice (Alex G)

"The world is full of fishes, but I trust you" really makes me think of him and Farah, because the two of them would have had to relied on each other at a young age after their parents died and when they were building up ULF and during their time in prison. They would have had a lot of trust in one another, which makes sense with the amount of pure betrayal and rage we hear in Farah's voice when she finds out Hadir stole the gas and then used it. The two of them would have had such an almost unbreakable relationship, not only because they are siblings, they trusted one another and they went through so much, they would have HAD to have trusted each other.

10. Poison Tree (Grouper)

This song alone has so much emotion to it, it ALTERS my brain chemistry. I love this song, so it just meant I had to link it to one of my favourite characters. Which, therefore, means it has a place on the playlist.

11. The Hand that feeds (The Crane Wives)

This song screams Farah, but I feel like it could apply to both Hadir and Farah. Afterall, the both of them are doing a tiring job that is going to both mentally and physically drain them. It's dangerous and they know it. "My papa taught me how to growl, how to bear my teeth and growl", although in the scene where we see of kid Farah and Hadir, their father turns to Hadir and says to 'stay strong for Farah', this is probably one of the many reasons why he does so much for her, even if makes her fucking despise Hadir for what he's done.

12. I wait for you (Alex_g_offline)

"I wait for you" I don't know what is it about the repeated line that makes me think so much about Hadir, about his whole character, but for some reason it really does.

13. If we have each other (Alec Benjamin

The song that makes me, really, think of any two characters that are related. "So I'm thankful for my sister, even though sometimes we fight" the line is more so towards the usual sibling type fights that happens throughout with growing up with siblings, which would easily be able to apply to the two of them. However, it also makes me think about the fact that Hadir still loves Farah and calls her sister, even when she hates him. When he was dying, he even said to her that he still loves her even though she hates him now (something along those lines)

14.Where'd all the time go? (Dr. Dog)

"There ain't no way to sweep up the mess that we've made" I know it says 'we' but I think that Hadir regrets what he did, even if he believes that it helps winning against the Russian army, I don't think he likes that fact that Farah hates him over it and he knows that he can't do anything to fix that, to 'sweep up the mess'. There's no fixing that, there was no fixing that broken trust between them after that.

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silawastaken · 7 months ago

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it’s me again. new Taylor swift album. ssk thoughts?

first, i woke up at 4:30 in the morning to listen to this album the moment it came out. And I WAS going through it thinking about skk when I wasn't bawling my eyes out over certain lyrics that were personal attacks

I do want to take a moment to talk about the actual album itself on its own for a moment just because omfg i love it, and something I really liked with tpd in comparison to more of her recent albums, is the music seems very simple, with a focus on lyricism, which had always been a theme with her music, that the lyrics are more important, but it just. It's so well done here.

Also, there's a very nice mix between the synth pop of midnights, and the more acoustic vibes from folklore and evermore in this album, when i listened to the first song i thought the whole album was going to have that same vibe, and was very pleasantly surprised at the first piano track.

Also a lot of the lyrics are very reminiscent of her earlier albums, thinking speak now and fearless. it feels most obvious with i can do it with a broken heart and who's afraid of little old me- which by the way, based off the title I thought i would HATE whos afraid of little old me, but i actually really like it??? like it's a very 'cringe' phrase, it's made fun of mercilessly, but it works surprisingly well.

The songs all seem to have an earlier album they could tie back to, with the same vibes or styles of lyrics, and it's so nice to listen to while thinking of what it could possibly tie back to.

This definitely isn't my favourite album, i was expecting something different i think, but it's still really good, and there are quite a few really good songs on it. guilty as sin? and clara bow are my personal favourites i think :3

But I would like to direct your attention to the second song on the album, 'The Tortured Poets Department'

I LOVE a title drop in a song, it drives me insane for real, and i actually screamed. But more importantly, in reference to this, it is VERY skk to me, like I listened to it and instantly was thinking of how i was going to reference this song in an au some day.

But imo, this song is 100% Chuuya pov skk and well the autism is working overtime so I will be doing an analysis I'm so sorry this is what I'm using my time for but AUGH brainrot im sorry i have interests

'You left your typewriter at my apartment' - starting off by mentioning that this is what i thought of when considering references, because im a sucker for writer skk, and i thought a really cool thing would be Dazai leaving a typewriter behind when he left for some reason, and then Chuuya picking it up and eventually using it, especially with one of the following lines being 'who uses a typewriter anyway?', something he used to judge Dazai for then becoming something he does himself is just *polite clapping* i love it and I will be giving dazai a typewriter at somepoint

'But you're in self sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road' - Dazai is very mentally ill, and likely does self sabotage, ESPECIALLY if it were to be his relationship with Chuuya, his bandages are an allegory for the fact that he doesn't let anyone see below the surface of his personality, and that does go for Chuuya as well. He doesn't allow for that kind of vulnerability and in all likelihood, if he were to end up in a situation where he did need to be vulnerable, he'd self sabotage and try and fuck it up just to get out of that situation. However, there's also the next lines;

'But I've seen this episode and still love the show, who else decodes you?' - which is to say that regardless of the 'episode' dazai would be having in that moment, chuuya would still love him, and can decode him to understand what he is doing, which is a VERY skk thing, being able to decode what the other is thinking when they do things, and their intentions. He would be able to work out what was going on, and be able to work things out.

'And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's going to know you, if not me?' - skk have that insane bond that they don't have with anyone else, they know each other better than anyone else, and they both probably know it, regardless of whether they admit it or not, and (don't attack me im a multishipper) they're genuinely unmatched as a duo, there's not another team with either of them that are stronger than the two of them together. Nobody is going to know them the way that they know each other, it's just impossible given how close they had to be, and the environment they were in. The entire Dazai makes Chuuya feel human and Chuuya makes Dazai feel alive thing. As the post chorus says, nobody will do it the same.

'I scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever' - rare moments of vulnerability my beloved, but my specific picking of this line is Dazai's constant insistence that Chuuya is his dog, while frequently behaving in a way(esp ada dazai) that would be more suited to a golden retriever. There's also something I want to say here about the comparison to a dog, by a person he loves. But it is canon that Dazai at the very least does not like dogs, and in fanon he is frequently portrayed as afraid of them.

Here, this could be translated as it being a metaphor, Dazai being vulnerable like a dog, something he is scared of/hates. He isn't just scared of dogs, he's scared of vulnerability in any form, and comparing him to a dog when he is like that would be to emphasise that point, that he hates them both. This also opens the implication that Chuuya is aware of both of these fears.

But he is like a dog, and being vulnerable, and in that moment, he would be exactly what he hates most, his is everything he hates. And Chuuya loves him anyway, despite knowing how much he hates himself. And he makes himself vulnerable around Chuuya, regardless of how much he's scared of it.

'Sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me' - this lyric makes me think of concerns about Dazai leaving again after they reunite at 22, perhaps Chuuya's own concerns of getting too comfortable only for one of their many issues to come and blow everything up in their faces, like how in a earlier lyric the relationship in the song is referred to as a cyclone, the fear is that it gets out of control, even if they know what they're doing, or trying to do.

'But you had told Lucy you'd kys if i ever leave, and i said the same to jack so i felt seen' - oh boy toxic co-dependency time. skk are so co-dependent it's literally insane, their lives often genuinely rest in each others hands, not even mentioning whatever the fuck went on in mersault. From Chuuya relying on Dazai to nullify corruption, to Chuuya being the reason Dazai decided to try living a little in 15, there have been multiple instances in which if it wasn't for the other they would be dead. They trust each other with their lives, and could very easily end up in a state where if one were to leave, the other would make an attempt on their own life (moreso dazai than chuuya, but it really could go either way).

'Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be, cause we're crazy, so tell me, who else is gonna know me?' - Anything else aside, skk are fucking insane. they deserve each other just so they don't bring danger to literally anyone else they interact with. They're insane, especially around/about each other, and again, they're the only ones who fully understand each other. Dazai is the only one left from during stormbringer as well, which is think is important to mention. Dazai was there during sb and the dragons head conflict, both times that Chuuya's friends were killed, if anyone was going to understand how he might have felt after that experience, or what happened, it would be Dazai. They understand each other in ways others would never manage.

'At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding' - skk are literally married guys. dating six years, married four years, divorced eight times and broken up 52, but also never stopped dating and are best friends who plan how to kill the other for fun. They're married, but they're also not, but also their souls are tied together in ways not made for the human brain to comprehend. This feels very much like domestic skk fic interactions and i'm 100% here for it.

Anyway, this song is very skk coded and I love it so much, tell me why i spent an hour on this. I don't think this was what you were looking for but... this is what you got. If you want me to go through any other songs like this then i'll do it. I love skk and taylor swift so much i can't even think like im afaifiegbi im pretty sure taylor has a tumblr account so there is like a 0.0000001% she would see this and that has me... panicking but anyway :D i have lots of thoughts all the time and thank you for indulging me with this ask i NEEDED to get this out of my system before i exploded!!!

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that-ari-blogger · 7 months ago

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Get Ready (No Good Deed)

Joseph Campbell is famous for writing The Hero With A Thousand Faces, in which he put forward the concept of the Hero’s Journey, or Monomyth. This, boiled down, is a series of plot beats that most stories ever written hit in some way or another, at least to Campbell.

Campbell is one of my favourite literary scholars to disagree with, but one thing that I believe he got right was the idea that he called “The Belly Of The Whale”. This has gone on to become the darkest hour trope, a moment when everything seems lost before the protagonist picks themself up.

In Wicked, the story of Elphaba picking herself up is told by the song No Good Deed, which dwells on the emotional low, but also the resolution she makes as a result. This song changes the trajectory of the entire musical, and is a masterclass in writing a threat.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (Wicked, Avatar: The Last Airbender)

“Eleka nahmen nahmen ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen.”

The song opens with gibberish, it’s inspired by Greek, Latin, Italian, and other languages. But it is bastardised to sound more mystical. Like a language that could be true but isn’t.

It’s also weird when it comes to the phonetics. Each of the words (I’m counting “ah tum” as one word for this) takes up the same time to say aloud, but the “ah” is naturally drawn out because more stress is being put onto it. It forms a rhythm similar to a horse’s galloping, implying motion.

Keep an eye on that, this song is all about motion.

That actually translates into the plot of the wider musical. This song is changing the tone of the story as a whole, pushing it into a tale of revolution.

The conflict of this story is brought on by the “death” of Fiyero and Elphaba’s love. Achieving change and achieving personal happiness are not compatible in this story, at least not for Elphaba.

But incompatibility is an important theme here. Elphaba has been trying to achieve things in her way. She tried to enact change through the Wizard, and when he turned out to be a schmuck, she tried to help people, stir up change and hope that good deeds get rewarded by fate.

I have mentioned in the past that Glinda and Elphaba’s relationship was characterised by the former being the more world wise and Elphaba being naive. That’s what Popular is about. However, this is a change of status quo, paired with Glinda’s rendition of I’m Not That Girl, showing the reversal of that dynamic. Now Elphaba is truly cynical, and her eyes are opened to how the world works, and Glinda has been fooling herself the entire time.

In the opening of this blog, I referenced Campbell’s “The Belly Of The Whale” concept. The name of that is actually a reference to a biblical tale, in which a prophet uses the inside of a fish as free transport and therapy.

I want to draw that biblical reference back in here. Do you notice anything about how Elphaba’s wishes are phrased?

“Let his flesh not be torn Let his blood leave no stain Though they beat him Let him feel no pain Let his bones never break And however they try To destroy him Let him never die Let him never die”

Do those remind anyone else of the opening of Genesis?

“And G-d said, let there be light. And there was light.” Genesis 1:3

There is a very specific wording here that evokes that biblical concept of divinity. In the Bible, the only people and entities that speak in this way are either G-d, people talking about G-d, or people praying. No Good Deed is explicitly drawing on that speech pattern to imply the divine symbolism with Elphaba.

This isn’t the first time the musical has done this. I keep referencing older posts that I have made in this series on Wicked, but that’s because the musical does set up and payoff really well, and I have to talk about callbacks. But, my first post in this series was titled The Gospel of Elphaba, and I did that for a reason.

One of Wicked’s most interesting story techniques is its biblical allusion. Elphaba is explicitly framed as divine in this song, but also by how she is referred to in a few other places. This has the effect of implying a change in history. Elphaba’s life will change Oz for good, and this is the story of how that happened.

Now, I am not a Christian, I am coming at this from the angle of study and having lived in a very Christian environment for most of my life. So, while I am trying to treat this with the respect befitting any faith, I want to stress that I am far from a perfect, definite source on anything related to Christianity.

I've brought up this artwork by @abd-illustrates (youtube) before, when I was talking about Defying Gravity. But the piece is about No Good Deed, and its so amazingly well done, coming from a place of obvious love for the song and the musical, that there was no chance that I would miss a chance to show it again.

On a different note, the things that Elphaba wishes for in this song are vague as all hell, and the implication of Fiyero being turned into the scarecrow because the lawyers found a loophole in his resurrection contract is neat.

That implication is really important for the theming of the story, and it happened earlier on in the musical when Boq became the tin man. The magic expresses the theme of consequences rather concisely. Nobody knows what effect they will have on the world and on history, you can just try to make the world a better place, no matter what people think of you.

In other words:

“Was I really seeking good Or just seeking attention?”

Intentions don’t matter, actions do. The second verse of this song dwells on this question, asking if Elphaba’s morals were what she thought they were and what that means for her.

The conclusion drawn is that it doesn’t matter. Elphaba, despite breaking free physically from her society’s constraints, is still following them emotionally. She still believes in the ideas of good and evil that she has been presented with, and now she resolves to take a different approach. If wicked is what they call her, wicked she shall be.

The music of the song itself feels like a fight. It feels like it has the eb and flow of a boxing match, with Elphaba’s vocals falling to match her being struck, and rising for her blows.

For example, here the higher note on “charity” combines with an accent to feel like an attack, with the slope matching the follow up and ease of tension.

Although, if you are perceptive, you will notice that this is a solo, and that Elphaba isn’t actually fighting anyone, so what gives?

I have two readings for this. In the first, Elphaba is declaring war on Oz, essentially, so the fight is the warmup to that. This is posturing, it's a threat. It’s Elphaba’s Bitter Work moment.

For context, Bitter Work is one of the best episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender and, fun fact, my introduction to the series (I was very young, I thought the movie was cool, I got three seconds into the series and realised how wrong I was). In the episode in question, Zuko is wrestling with his identity in relation to the world, and to his father. He doesn’t know who to be, or how to proceed.

The episode then follows Zuko as he tries and fails to learn a new type of bending (magic in everything but name), culminating with him standing on a cliff, screaming for lightning to strike him because he thinks he can finally throw it back. Its self-destructive, and it's a character on the very edge, lashing out at everyone, including himself, in a desperate attempt for control.

Does that sound familiar? That’s exactly where Elphaba is when she sings No Good Deed, on the edge, looking for control.

The second reading is that Elphaba is arguing with herself about what to do. Part of her wants to run and hide, but the part that is singing is trying to convince her to stay. That she needs to change.

Wicked is a story about dreams and reality colliding, and this is Elphaba’s speech to the troops on the side of hope. Unfortunately for her, the entire army consists of one person, herself.

The idea of Elphaba’s internal struggle is reflected in the inconsistency of the music. Wicked likes to mess around with key signatures and time signatures, with Thank Goodness taking the concept to its breaking point. But No Good Deed has, by my count, four different key signatures, and three different time signatures.

The first chorus follows the Wicked formula of being understated. It’s rhythmical, and balanced in 4/4 time to give it a self contained vibe.

This conveys a feeling of speeding up and slowing down, as she rushes into decisions, then hesitates. Wicked has done this in previous songs already, and I have discussed them, but its a neat thing to see repeated here.

Elphaba seemingly makes her decision, however, belting out the song’s name. But then she falters, and the key changes to b majour. To me, this evokes a feeling of happiness, which doesn’t really square with the lyrics.

Except, I would argue that it does. Nessa and Doctor Dillamond are the two people she was closest to, and they are gone now. They were to hallmarks of her old life, and this feels like her reminiscing about a better time. The other name that comes up here is Fiyero, but that quickly shifts.

Jessica Vosk plays this scene like Elphaba is seeing ghosts, speaking the names as if she is seeking advice from the departed. It's a really cool acting choice.

Grief is a powerful motivator, and Fiyero was the last person that Elphaba had left over from her previous life. Even Glinda has left her, and now that grief bubbles over into a war cry.

In the version of Wicked that I saw most recently, Elphaba was played by Sheridan Adams, who put a little bit of flair into that final call, rising slightly, then flowing down to keep the momentum into the chorus. I don't know what this is called, so if any music scholars who understand my extremely limited and vague explanations here, please help me out.

“Let all Oz be agreed, I’m wicked through and through. Since I cannot succeed. Fiyero, saving you. I promise no good deed Will I attempt to do again. Ever again. No good deed Will I do Again!”

The final chorus of this song is a revelation. It gains momentum by alternating between 4/4 and 3/4 to gain that rocking rhythm like a ship in a storm. But I want to go a bit weird here and talk about the rhyming scheme.

There are two main rhyming sets here, “deed” and “do”, and they alternate in an ABAB pattern and are reminiscent of classical poetry.

Agreed, through, succeed, you, deed, do. Again, Again. Deed, do, again.

Annapantsu's cover of this song is phenomenal and manages to capture the magnitude of both the story and the musical really well. I highly recommend you check it out.

Classics were often about big emotions. Romanticism springs to mind, for example, although that was a movement defined by a desire for freedom of expression, which plays into the themes of Wicked exactly. How convenient.

However, the scheme is broken up by the repeated word “again”, which juxtaposes the idea of classicism with change. The force with which Elphaba interrupts her own rhythm makes the line seem as though it is a threat. Elphaba’s desire for freedom is coming for Oz, whether anyone likes it or not.

Elphaba has snapped, and things will never be the same in oz again. Never again.

Final Thoughts

This song is iconic, and that is well deserved. We are ramping up to the finale of the musical, and the story is gathering speed.

As a side note, I genuinely love how Wicked subverts the prequel pitfall of explaining everything, not by avoiding doing that, but by making that its whole thing. Boq’s transformation into the Tin Man works with the story as told in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz because it comes close to what the Tin Man explains, but frames him as an unreliable narrator.

Similarly, Fiyero’s lack of anything going on behind his eyes is superficial, and when he becomes the Scarecrow, that superficiality carries over. Like Boq, he is reframed as an unreliable narrator, but not through selfishness, and instead through a secret desire to help the Wicked Witch out. Also, the fact that he is the captain of the guard kinda explains why he rocks up to the final battle of the The Wizard Of Oz movie with a gun.

Next week, I am looking at For Good, and trying to justify why I cannot make it through listening to it without crying. Seriously, I am always a wreck at the end of the Wicked soundtrack, and I blame this song.

So stick around if that interests you.

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#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #what's so special about...?#character analysis #wicked musical #wicked #elphaba thropp #elphaba #wicked the musical #wicked elphaba #the next musical I do will be animated #wicked is a queer story #no good deed #avatar the last airbender #meta #meta analysis

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binniesoob · 1 year ago

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The Name Chapter: Freefall Concepts Analysis

let's analyze the concept pictures and trailers for the new upcoming TXT album! there are a lot of details hidden everywhere 👀

looks like my predictions were mostly right btw 🤭 if you haven't yet, i suggest you read them here before reading this post because they are strictly connected!

— REALITY VERSION

We didn't get an obvious autumn setting, but we did get colder rainy weather:

TXT just fell down to earth, to the harsh reality of things, they don't have nowhere to run away to anymore.

The vibes are very reminiscent of the Mess concept for Minisode 2, after all, TXT's feelings are the same: in Mess they just lost their first romantic love, their other/new Neverland.

Mess was also connected to the You version of Freeze, through props as well (the teddy bear, the flowers, the helmet, etc.), and Reality is now connected to You as well, because of the rain and umbrellas it looks like a darker sad version of it.

Just a quick recap...

1) YOU in Freeze = TXT found their first romantic love (aka Moa, very y/n fanfic of them ik ik) and invite them on a date.

2) MESS in Tuesday's Child = Moa doesn't show up to the date because it's actually tootiming all five of them 🤡 (see Lo$er=Lo♡er mv and Good Boy Gone Bad Japanese version mv). TXT are now about to go back to their childhood Neverland to mend their broken hearts and refuse the pain that comes with growing up.

3) REALITY in Freefall = TXT are heartbroken again, this time because they had to leave Neverland too and there's no way of escaping growing pains... 😔

(i swear i'm gonna complete the storyline summary with Minisode 2 by the end of the year 🧍‍♀️)

This version is also FILLED! TO! THE! BRIM! with hints through words and phrases written everywhere, on walls, signs, clothes...

If you zoom in the pictures you should be able to read them, i'm gonna list all those i found and collected and what i think they stand for:

• "step to earth" = TXT are back to earth/reality

• "tel: 03042019" and "fax 08222019" = the numbers contain the dates of TXT debut and moa day: TXT should talk their feelings out with eachother and connect with Moa again (are we going to see TXT coming in contact again with Moa in the music video? 👀 are we gonna get love songs again in this album?)

• “find my feet” = TXT need to let go of escapistic fantasies and come back down to earth. the meaning of this phrase also is "to start becoming comfortable in a new situation"

• “parachute” = it probably references something that represents a "saviour" for TXT during their harsh return to reality, it could be Moa and the Star 🤔

• “loadstar” = the STAR they need to light up again rembering their promise song and singing it together, also pretty sure the it's the title track name or part of it 😧 looks like they weren't fooling us in the end with the signs on the beach pic from Temptation-Farewell 🤡👍

• “dive” also written as "•Di♡E!•" in the black&white running-in-the-rain group pic = could be a track name, perhaps referencing Lo$er=Lo♡er 😮!!

• “rags rags rags” = could be the remains of TXT's inner selves after not having Neverland/Magic Island anymore 🤔

• "lost of found " = TXT lost themselves at Neverland and when they forgot their true names as children, but are now going to find themselves again once they remember them.

• " Running Instead of crying" = TXT shouldn't cry mourning Neverland (but focus on what's ahead of them instead and run towards it ?)

• "kicking tomorrow kicking" = they need to hold on, accept that tomorrow is coming, keep going and keep fighting

• "stand tall, walk tall, stand still" = they should be proud and confident of who they are but ? stay the same ? 🤔

• "one dream" = TXT's motto, they need to remember what they are really fighting for and what's truly their goal

• "in dreams begin responsibility" = if TXT dream to turn the world into a brighter place again, where people believe in their dreams, through awakening the Star, they have to take responsibility for it.

This should be all but if you notice i missed something feel free to point it out <3

Now let's focus on the store behind TXT in the group pictures! Credits to @/txtbook on twitter because i included what they wrote as well.

The shop is called LOADSTAR and it's in the building 304... remember the train also called 304 that previously showed TXT memories and predictions? The shop offers repairings for VCRs 👀

@/txtbook:

(at the shop) they repair the DVD that contains memories and we have the theme of memories & "remembering the name" in txt concept + since the building number is 304 it's great connection to their "start line" aka magic island but now in reality!

Loadstar is a guiding star used in navigation and MOA are always referenced as Stars + morse code was used for txt debut album TDC: STAR & questioning films words (true names?) — (me: yes, their true names👍)

The LoadSTAR shop that also sells music instruments & radio can fix their "melancholy DVD" & give back memories about their start line, dream & magic, music, song of a star 😭

And guess what Beomgyu holds in the CLARITY version? 👀 a video camera

but first let's analyze...

— MELANCHOLY VERSION

On a recent Weverse Live Soobin, Taehyun and Hueningkai opened up about their trainee days, in what conditions they rehearsed in the old basement of the old BigHit building (in 2014-16 -ish if i'm correct) here's a extract:

🐰 when we were in the basement practice room, there was a time when the ventilator wasn’t working…the ventilator was broken, the air conditioner was broken, there as water leaking onto the floor, there was mushroom growing on the floor 🐧 the mushrooms were really… 🐰 and since we’d have dance lessons in that situation for like 8-9 hours, the mirror was barely visible 🐧 because of the humidity 🐰 the mirror would get all fogged up because of the humidity making things barely visible 🐰 so we’d practice and… 🐿️ we used to wipe it down with newspaper 🐰 oh right! we’d all wipe it away with newspaper 🐰 and then we’d open the window for ventilation but leaving the window open in the middle of winter…opening the window when you’re already sweating makes you feel super cold 🐰 so we’d be shivering while trying to get some ventilation in the room 🐰 at that time, i kinda really hated the company, i hated our teachers… 🐰 but when else would we be able to experience something like that? 😅

source

This concept seems reminiscing of that. They were a group of boys working hard for their dream of debuting and making music, holding on despite the hard reality and injustices they had to face everyday.

This concept also features a wolf dog !

we already saw one in Frost mv

Yeonjun's real name is "promise" and the hint for it is "the one who shall not eat dogs"

5:53 is the hour between ‘dog and wolf’ from the French expression "l'heure entre chien et loup", it's the time when you can't distinguish a friend from a foe: it might reference how TXT will have to fight eachother and themselves in the rest of The Name Chapter

— CLARITY VERSION

This concept reminds of TXT abandoning Neverland in the The Name Chapter Concept Trailer. TXT used to travel to Neverland at Blue Hour (the sunset), but they don't go this time: when night comes they are still on earth.

honestly, the first thing that came to my mind when i saw these pictures was the last line from from Dante's Inferno: "E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle", translated "and thence we came forth to see the stars again". After all, Neverland has been hell for TXT, a nightmare dressed as a daydream, and now that they have a clear mind, freed from the temptations, they can see the reality of things again and the real stars, amongst which there's their Star!

If these pictures seem familiar there's a reason...

they are actually a replica of The Dream Chapter: Eternity, Starboard Version.

TXT are in the same exact order: in Can You See Me mv (title track of TDC: Eternity) we saw Beomgyu and Taehyun fighting, and on The Name Chapter Concept Trailer we saw that Beomgyu and Taehyun are the last ones to fight eachother. In addition everyone but Beomgyu is facing to the right: Beomgyu is the last one left after they fight eachother in the concept trailer.

Taehyun stands opposite to Beomgyu and is not holding hands with him = they fight, but let's remember as well what we said about him experiencing the fall back to reality differently from the other members in the Temptation analysis and Freefall predictions. That is further confirmed by the fact that in the solo pictures for this version everyone is out in the open, while Taehyun is the only one inside a window. The same as Taehyun's boat being the only one flipped around in the Farewell concept.

They also are on a rooftop 👀 like in 0x1lovesong Japanese Version mv, and on the mini posters for this version looks like they are either falling or on the ground after the fall 👇

... but it also could be something else, judging by the colors that remind of the Nightmare concept in Temptation... we'll see 👀

edit: forgot to add that Kai has odd eyes like a certain someone...

Kai is not the cat but has been the most tempted beside Yeonjun by the devil/peter pan/cat because he doesn't want to leave childhood most of all members. We saw him hesitant to leave Neverland at the end of Sugar Rush Ride, and we know his evil doppelgänger (see Frost mv) is going to fight Kai himself and the members (see TNC concept trailer) inside a labyrinth he built (see TNC concept trailer and Run Away mv when Kai draws blue and yellow - like the cat eyes - intertwined circles around the school), he probably was tempted to take over by the devil/cat, that's why the odd eyes.

Also didn't notice that the glass dome that we had in TDC: Eternity, Starboard Version pictures has been shattered by TXT literally - there are glass pieces and metal bars on the ground at their feet in the Clarity pictures - and metaphorically!

TXT broke the barrier that locked them in eternal dream. (@/0X1ZEROBASEONE on twitter/X)

Remember how TXT were surrounded by glass pieces at the end of 0x1lovesong Japanese Version mv too? 👀 It's all coming together.

This is all i have for now! If i need to add more details i'm gonna either edit the post or use a reblog. Thank you for reading <3 see you in the next TXT LORE O'CLOCK 👋 :)

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #the name chapter: freefall #— txt lore #txt lore #txt storyline #the star seekers

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