#actually the last time he did this was when he was describing the streets around the convent. which was after waterloo

[its-hitoshi]

modern! sevika au [low income edition]

Hi I’m also going to be using the last name ‘Jain’. It makes me think of that pretty girl at a summer program I went to that had that same last name and like Sevika, I can’t get her pretty eyes out of my head now. Setting is a general big city. Think of Los Angeles or New York or Toronto

ANYWAY FIRST GEN LOW INCOME SEVIKA REP LETS GOOO. I'm trauma dumping onto Sevika. No one can stop me.

-

Sevika Jain, who grew up on food stamps, always looking forward to that one snack her parents would buy her at the end of their grocery hauls. Some days it was bubblegum and shrimp chips the next. Her favorite was always roasted peanuts though. But none of those ever compared to the snacks her mom would make after she helped carry inside bags of fresh vegetables and gallons of water [from the local water store of course]

Sevika, who’s never had the privilege of having her own bed. Or her own room for that matter. Her entire family – mom, dad – lived in a one bedroom apartment. Growing up, she’d snuggle between them during cold nights under that one thick, flower-patterned blanket.

Having fun was playing on the jungle gym or sports with other kids at a local park. Her baba always took her. It’s how she would spend her summers. She still had asthma though. The air quality wasn’t good.

Sevika, who grew up speaking fluent Hindi, only being able to understand her dad now when he speaks to her. All the words she used to know, she can’t say them anymore. She remembers how they felt on her tongue, how they sound. But when she tries, it all comes out wrong. She doesn’t speak Hindi anymore. [Perhaps in a few years, she’ll try to learn again. Duolingo. Mangolanguages. Maybe she’ll meet someone who’s also having difficulties with their own language. Maybe together, they can try.]

Sevika, whose parents loved her, but still felt the sting of their palms. Or sometimes it was a stick. They said they did it because they loved her. Look at all they haven’t made her do, like other kids. Back in their homes, in their childhoods, she would have been working so much. Doesn’t she see how much they’re doing for her? Why can’t she behave?

Sometimes, when her parents fought, she’d see a flash of silver as their voices rose and things got… violent. Sevika wonders if it was just her childish imagination that saw the window rattle or if they actually did it.

Her father sobbed the day her mother died, nonetheless. All the fighting and all that screaming. The doctors had said it was a stroke. Her mama had been complaining about fatigue. Her head was throbbing the morning she walked out the door to go work. Sevika had had school. Her dad also had work. Sevika didn’t know until her dad pulled her out of school one day, white knuckles clenched around the steering wheel as he says quietly that her mother is dead. They park outside of the hospital, and this is the first and last time she sees her father cry. He still had to go into work the next day.

Sevika, who’s older and seen more of the world now, remembering those who weren’t able to. She went to a Title 1 school. Underfunded, in an area that might have been described as ‘ghetto’ in the past – gentrified now, of course. She wouldn’t be able to afford to live there now. The low-income apartment towers she used to live in were remodeled into luxury apartments, marketed to savvy college graduates who wanted to live close to the heart of the city. She walks past the streets she used to call home and tries to recall where the memorial for her classmate had been. They left flowers and candles at the corner he died at. There it is.

And there, she recalls, another shooting happened. There wasn’t a memorial, but there was a death. School had just been dismissed. It was a drive-by. They weren’t a student, but she had been. Her school’s been shut down now. Low enrollment, low performance, and the like. It’s been merged with another school a few streets down.

She wasn’t the best at school, but she wasn’t the worst. She could do fractions in high school, which was better than some of her fellow students. What she did do, was get into a decent amount of fights. She was tall for a girl. Quiet. Also couldn’t stand it when some bastard was running his mouth with no bite to match up his bark.

She graduated, solid middle of her class. She stayed near the neighborhood as others left for better or for cheaper lives. It was already starting to get expensive.

More deaths started rolling in. A drug overdose here or there.

Girls her age becoming pregnant. Having kids. Sevika wondered if there was ever anything wrong with her. She never wanted a guy like they did. Maybe what they said during high school was right. Maybe she is a lesbian. [in time, she comes to understand that she is. Also, that her desire for people is a little different from others. It’s all okay.]

Sevika walking past a recreation center. They’d given her a scholarship one summer, when she wanted to take lessons. Her baba had told her no, but they said they’d take her anyway. Free. They’d give her a scholarship. Sevika, who usually always spoke in low tones, not just because it was comfortable, but because it would get people off her back, was allowed to sing.

Her baba had recorded it. It’s in a flash drive somewhere, but Sevika also had it uploaded to her computer. It captures the moment she ran down to her baba to give him a big hug. He’d said she was amazing.

Late at night, when she’s in her apartment far from the heart of her city, far from what was home, but still home, Sevika is cooking a curry. Her kitchen, though small, is filled with little plastic sachets of herbs and spices bought from her local grocer. She has a pestle and mortar to grind up her spices as coarsely or as fine as she’d like. The scent of home blooms in the air. She found a playlist of old songs someone compiled on Youtube. Her parents liked these songs. She hums the melody, mouthing some of the words as she cleans her chicken. Her baba is dead now. Been so for quite a few years. She’s grown. Her college degree is hung up on the wall, a nod to him and his dreams for her. She did it, even if it was a little late. Even if it wasn’t at some big, fancy college where she knew she’d be the odd one out. He’d have a conniption if he knew she lost her arm in an accident. She got a decent settlement from her workplace at least. Kept her from being off the streets.

 If she ever bumps into them, she’ll buy her classmates and their kids something from the food stall at the corner of the street – churros, freshly made by a nice woman who she can’t really communicate with, but food is food, and money is money. Their kids aren’t kids anymore. Teenagers, plucky and ready to take on the world.

She doesn’t need to be on food stamps anymore. She might not be rich, but she’s stable. This curry will last her for a few days. Silco might work her to the bone in his NGO, but she has her sick days. And vacation days that he not-so-subtly asks her to take with his Do I work you hard enough to not visit Vander’s bar? He’s been complaining about me barring his best customer.

Vander and Silco have two girls between the two of them: Powder and Violet. Violet has her mother’s face. Powder reminds Sevika of how Felicia was like when they were all kids together – when they first met. And somehow, Vander finds enough time to volunteer with two more boys. Mylo and Claggor. Sevika’s met them all at this point.

She takes them to the park when Vander and Silco need a break. She watches them play in the apparatus and muses at how… green the playgrounds are nowadays. No more blacktop. Grass and trees and flowers. There’s even music playing from a radio somewhere. Whoever that person is, they have good taste.

So do the kids, apparently, when they eat up the curry she brought them for lunch. She smirks as she knows for certain that she’s given Vander a run for his money now.

(Vander’s also doing the dishes for her in that nice dishwasher he has in his bar)

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 4

Masterpost

"Okay, so like. We start with this video." Bernard says, bumping Tim's shoulder lightly. Huddling over a laptop together is a familiar experience; before they actually started dating they both regularly used laptop videos as an excuse to get close. It's a memory that Tim sort of cringes at, because now it seems so silly to be scared of Bernard not liking him back, and yet now he finds himself thinking back to those early days. The thrill of huddling together to solve a mystery is a little different from the thrill of being around your crush, but there's something there, a sort of excitement in questions yet to be answered.

"All right, hit me." And as Tim leans into Bernard a little harder, his boyfriend presses play.

The video is definitely weird. That much is immediately obvious. It seems to be a slideshow of pictures, complete with audio, but the pictures just seem off in a way that Tim can't describe and the audio is - it's a little sticky, but that is definitely Space Oddity, only it sounds kind of wrong like somebody's playing certain notes off key.

"Oh, that is definitely a Caesar cipher, huh?" Tim mutters. There's a line of text written beneath every photo in the little slideshow, but they're all garbled nonsense - it would seem entirely random, but Tim can already see a touch of pattern, some of the letters definitely appearing more common than others.

"Spy phase, huh?" Bernard teases. "I should've known you would already be on this stuff."

Tim grins and does his best to pretend he's not blushing. He's never been more grateful for his tendency to go overboard with his interests. The last thing he needs right now is Bernard asking questions about why he knows so much about code-breaking. Sure, he wants desperately to tell him all about Red Robin, but it's complicated with the rest of the family being implicated in your own identity.

The video continues in the same line for the whole duration of the song, then abruptly cuts off the second the last note of the song plays.

"Well, my first thought is that it seems kind of basic." Tim offers, at Bernard's expectant look.

"Right? Like when I first watched it I was kind of like what's the hype even about? But like, every video follows this general format, but the gradient of apparent code just keeps increasing, and it's like. What if there's more here and nobody ever realized they needed to look for it?"

"Okay well, the text has already been deciphered, right? So what does it say, and how'd they decode it."

"Here," Bernard switches tabs, to a document with screenshots of the various images. The first image was a simple photograph of a man, with the translated text reading Jonathan, January Thirteenth. The next photo, which was of an empty street, dusted with snow, read Hawthorn Way, Johnny's birthday. The rest of the photos followed in the same line. Simple labels describing who or what the photo showed and when they had been taken. None of the information seemed odd or suspicious, just the kind of photos that a family might take.

"Okay, it's a Caesar cipher, but each time the alphabet is being shifted a different amount."

"Yeah. And I already tried writing down the amounts in order to see if that meant anything but like.... No luck." Bernard gestures to his notes, where there is indeed a long number sequence.

"Okay, but how'd you solve it? Did anybody look for a clue to imply the shift or did they just brute force it?"

"I mean, there's literally websites that will run it for you, so I think people just did that." Tim hums, tapping his pen against his ear. The number sequence Bernard had shown him -

"None of the shifts are greater than eleven." Tim says. Bernard blinks, and glances back over his list.

"Huh. You're right, but what does that mean?"

"Means we need to figure out what's eleven." Tim reaches out and switches back the video and starts it again. The music still seems weird to him. He's no expert musician by any means, but he did take piano lessons for a bit when he was little, and more than that, he trusts his instincts. "There's only seven notes in a scale so it's not that..."

"A scale? Do you think there's something in the music? I mean other than it just being creepy?" Tim stares at Bernard.

"Bernard, you literally told me that you think it's all been more intentional than anyone realized. If that's true then the music definitely means something."

"Huh. Yeah, that is. Oh, we definitely needed new eyes on this, huh?" Bernard's huffs, then leans into Tim. "Okay well some the notes in the song are just straight up rank so maybe it's something to do with that?"

Tim hits play on the video again, focusing on the music. Six seconds in, a note hits, sounding very off.

"See?" Bernard says hitting pause. "It does that sometimes. Just plays a wrong note. I thought it was just to fuck with us, make us on edge, but maybe it means something?"

"We need the sheet music on this."

"Yeah? Do you know how to transcribe it?"

"Not reliably enough. But I know how to find someone who can."

"Babe, you're doing it again." Bernard laughs. "That could not have sounded more like Mafia energy if you tried."

"Oh my god, shut up."

[aurorasgate]

a lanterns wish

diluc ragnvindr x fem!reader | 3.5k+ words

fluff, first kiss + love confession, reader is from liyue, reader described as shorter than diluc

in the busying streets of liyue it was the click of your shoes against the stone path that calmed your rising nerves, eased your grip on the fabric of your outfit. steadying and grounding with every step you took towards the outskirts of the busy stalls to await your friends.

you loved this time of year, liyue in full lantern rite. the city twinkles with gold and reds, encased in a dream-like glow that wafts with the smells of delicious food and the happiness of the entirety of liyue. it was something you wanted to share with the cherished friends you had made in mondstadt after having spent so much time traveling between the two places, falling in love with the city of freedom and the uncrowned king that watched over it.

diluc was exactly who had your heart set to an unsteady beat now, unable to focus on the games and festivities happening at booths around you when you were both eager and anxious to see him. it has been a few weeks since you returned from mondstadt last and even though you received a letter from him not long ago and knew he would be coming to liyue for lantern rite, it was so easy to miss him from the second you parted ways at stone gate. it wasn’t the first time he had been to liyue to see you either but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous for him to come this time, to see you in a traditional liyue attire that nigguang had helped you pick out, elegant and flowy and tailored to perfection. 

and the last time you had seen him.. your feelings had been so obvious.  they were on the tip of your tongue, begging to be said when your heart could not hold them in any longer. so how were you to possibly continue to hold onto them with him so close to you the entire night? 

you didn’t have more time to overthink it before you’re brought from your thoughts by the call of your name and a familiar face cutting through the crowd to get to you, though not dressed in his guard uniform and with his hair down he did look significantly different, a bodyguard at the jade chamber zhenhai. 

he was someone you often ran into when you were with nigguang and he always seemed keen on striking a conversation with you. you didn’t mind, he was nice and your friend trusted him even after reluctantly hiring him.

“hello miss,” he greets you with a smile, standing in front of you with his hand at the back of his neck. 

“hey, zhenhai. having a good lantern rite?”

had you been more focused on him and not on looking for bright red amongst the people around you, you may have heard how he was actually enjoying the rite or caught the pink tint to his cheeks, the bashful way he looks at you. but all you could focus on, all you had been thinking about for days, was the man you longed to see. in all of his unattainability that couldn’t stop your heart from falling.

“so nigguang gave you the night off?” you ask after half hearing but not quite processing his words over your thoughts. “is your cousin joining you?”

“yeah we’re supposed to be meeting up,” he rubs his neck, not meeting your gaze. “would.. you like to join us?”

“i’m actually-”

you’re interrupted by a yell of your name that draws the attention of many around you, all eyes coming to land on an unbothered cavalry captain giving you a wide smile. next to kaeya was his ever quite the opposite brother, head shaking with a hand covering his face from view but as soon as his ruby eyes come from behind his dark gloves, they find yours, freezing the entire world for but a moment before another yell of your name, joyful and childlike, draws you away.

klee breaks away from albedos hand with ease, dressed in an embroidered outfit with her hair in pigtails, little feet running full speed at you until she’s grabbing your outstretched hand and jumping in front of you. “i missed you!”

“i missed you too,” you bend down to her height and her arms immediately fling around your neck, her body still bouncing with joy in your arms. “we’re gonna have lots of fun, huh?”

“oh, yeah! albedo said we could try all the games,” she lets go of you, looking back at the three men that are now nearly to you. 

all of them are looking handsome dressed in traditional liyue clothes. kaeya with a beautiful pin in his hair, glistening in the evening sun like flawless ice and blue garments that suited his regular stye. albedo matching with klee in gold and white ascents of their clothes and the embroidered pattern on the fine cloth but he had opted for blue instead of red in the color throughout. and diluc.. he stole your breath away with just one glance and you knew you weren’t the only ones staring at the gorgeous winery owner. you had expected the dark color he chose but you found your eyes drawn to the details of white throughout the long garment and the red around his slim waist. 

diluc himself had no doubt that you would look stunning tonight. he had always found you breathtaking but right now, he didn’t have words to describe how he saw you or the air in his lungs to attempt to form any of them. his heart was in his throat, burning at such intensity he’s sure kaeya could feel the slight change in temperature around them, and knows exactly what it’s from. that smug bastard. 

he had looked the part as well. kaeya was already quite enjoying himself after seeing such an intense and odd look on his brother's face when they spotted you standing there with a blushing man who looked as if he might be about to confess his love. or at least that’s what kaeya teased diluc about what was likely happening, aware of his brother's feelings, but it hadn’t not gone as planned when the slight shift in dilucs demeanor made kaeya feel like an ass. 

so, with a promise to be the best wingman ever, much to dilucs protests, kaeya took matters into his own hands when he instructed klee to yell your name along with him and go say hello, adding the unamused glare that most did not see on the knight unless you were also seeing his blade, plus the one diluc often wore that was even worse at the present moment, till the man scurried off without as much as saying goodbye to you. 

it wouldn’t be the only time tonight diluc piercing gaze tore gazes from you.

the uncomfortable tightness in the pyro users chest that bloomed when kaeya spoke of another wanting to covet your heart had subsided from the moment your eyes met and, as you often had for him, the rest of his worries and the noise of the busy world around him began to fade as he stood before you. as if you were the only two in the world. leaving him nothing more than the darkest corners of the shadows that reached for the moonlight without ever connecting. he was desperate to reach out and pull you into him, scarred hands aching at his side when you’re only an arms length away.

“i’m so happy you’re all here!” you exclaim, your smile making dilucs chest burst into sparkling pyro crystal flies, crackling with embers of fire in their flutter, knocking against his rib cage. “you all look so wonderful too,” you try not to sound too choked up about it but really, you couldn’t be happier to share today with them like this.

“well we couldn’t deny our dear miss y/n when you so kindly invited us, could we diluc?” kaeya replies, elbowing diluc in the side.

diluc clears his throat quietly, the back of gloves hiding half his face from view, eyes avoiding. the crystal flies in the cage of his ribs ignite and burn all the way to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his pearl-like skin matching his lovely hair. kaeya was certainly the worst wingman and diluc hadn’t even agreed to it in the first place. brothers, he internally grumbles. 

he ignores kaeya completely when he talks to you, looking back up and dropping his hand to his side. the soft expression he often wore with you still warm. “thank you for inviting us.”

you refuse to let yourself believe the slightest pink dusting his cheeks has anything to do with you no matter how desperately you want it to be true. don’t want to bring attention to the butterflies in your stomach at his compliment. tonight you knew you should focus on having fun with your friends, not spilling your heart out to diluc. 

“there’s a lot to see so should we get going?”

“yeah!” klee exclaims, kaeya laughing behind her but is quick to keep up with her, albedo following after at a faster pace.

“don’t go running of on your own klee-”

“wait,” dilucs voice stops you from following, reaching his hand out to stop you but so easily his voice alone coaxes you to stop in your tracks and look at him. in a few long strides he’s next to you, tugging on the end of his glove. you had to look up to see him but you never minded. his eyes that hid under thick lashes for only a moment before finding you, shining like rubies in the evening sunlight and reflecting back at him in your own when he speaks. “you look beautiful-”

neither of you get a moment to do or say more, to think or process the warmth blooming throughout your body when you’re torn from it all too quickly. klee and kaeyas voices come at the same time.

“come on guys!” 

“you don’t want to get left behind.”

but maybe it was for the best because when you look at diluc and smile, still tingling with shy happiness at his compliment, offering him a sweet ‘thank you’ before he leads you towards your awaiting friends, you can only hope you’ll have more moments like this with him.

with klee leading the way, albedo practically surgically attached to her hand and kaeya hot on their heels, you spend the evening so very close to diluc, going from stall to stall, playing games, eating treats and listening to the stories being told of soldier making their way home by lantern light and those lost in the archon war who will never be forgotten.

while you taught or helped klee the games and puzzles diluc still kept close, welcoming you back into his space with a soft tug of his lips and the softening of his eyes. it made your knees feel weak, never failing to flush your cheeks, but you couldn’t resist the warmth of him at this proximity, the scent of wine and oak barrels that clings to him, the heat of his palm that from time to time that hovers over the small of your back but only connects with the silky fabric of your clothes to guide you away from people not paying attention to where they were going, to keep you safe

diluc was always careful to be sure everyone around him was safe, though it was only your side he stuck by the entire night.

trying the different food stalls, wanting to eat a bit of each instead of a big meal at one, you had opted to split the treats you ordered, every half of yours ending up in dilucs hand, against his lips that your eyes could not stop going back to you. when you fed him a bite of almond tofu that couldn’t be split like the others, with his cheeks ablaze and long lashes fluttering closed with the single bite he could get through before giving you a polite ‘no thank you’ from behind his hand, you apologized profusely but he was assuring it was quite alright and the food was delicious.

it was like you had forgotten it wasn’t just the two of you here and even though you were still very aware of how much diluc did not usually prefer the proximity of others, it felt so natural to be this close to him. it always had and he had always let you into his space, small steps at a time. your actions might have been something you spent the evening overthinking more than you’d like to admit but your worries quickly melted when he kept you close and walked with you to where kaeya, klee and albedo were a little ways ahead of you.

by the time the sun had long been set and the moon showed high in the sky, the cool breeze from the sea after the eventful evening was just what everyone needed and with your lanterns in hand, it was your turn to lead your group to the place you felt best to release them into the sky and make your wishes. you brought them to a quiet part of the city not far from the docks, away from the biggest of the crowds but still basking in the golden light and the bubbling hope for the new year sent off with every star-like glow in the sky.

you weren’t sure how she still had energy after hours of running around the harbor but klee hopped on her toes, small hands determined to not let the lantern go before she was ready as diluc bent down to bring it to life, lighting it with his vision. her face lit up with wonder and while everyone else was watching the spark knight, you were watching diluc smiling down at her, like you might imagine he did more often before the passing of his father. like you were seeing more and more on him as of late as the steady flame in the lantern cast against his handsome features.

it made your heart contract and when it came back to normal, your entire being tingled with your love for him.

he looks up at you, like he had felt your gaze, those scarlet eyes look like the purest of flames in the gold light. without a doubt, he is the most amazing and handsome man you had ever seen, the man you loved, and you can’t bring yourself to look away even if the look on his face, one you couldn’t read, made you want to shy away. still, you gift him a smile, tender and sweet.

“ready?” you ask, holding up the two lanterns you had been holding when he returns to your side, hoping the darkness is hiding the emotions you swear are painted so clearly on your face. how could they not when you were constantly overwhelmed by them in the best of ways.

“let’s go.”

you follow in step with him a little ways from the others, no words spoken between you as he lights both of your lanterns and you prepare your wishes. silence between you has always been comfortable but right now you wonder if he can hear the physical aching of your longing heart in the quietness. the longer you stood there thinking about the very wish that stood next to you, as far away as the stars in the sky but what you needed more than air, it seems to echo in your ears as you let go of your lantern, shaking your lungs and forcing you to release the breath you hadn’t known you’d be holding.  

at the release of your breath, diluc tears his eyes from you without you having seen how lost he was in the image of you, the city and night sky twinkling with stars and lanterns a backdrop to your beauty, to his heart that was becoming unbearably heavy in his chest being away from yours. he was awestruck and felt tonight he had felt the final strike to the wall holding his barely held together emotions, the one that he had built and fortified for years crumbling for you and you alone, leaving his heart bare for you.

could you accept a cold and broken man such as him? would you trust him with your heart in return?  he would give his life to protect it.

when you look up at him, diluc is still holding onto his lantern, focused on it, a flickering flame showing an unreadable look on his face, his slightly chapped lips, his eyes looking up at the sky, bangs brushing against his face in the small breeze.

it’s only when he releases the lantern, with both of your eyes watching it float nearer to yours, that you break the silence. 

“what kind of things does the dark knight hero wish for?” you ask, expecting him to grumble or comment on the stupid name he’s been given, though you think it suits him well.

but he doesn’t. he doesn’t say anything at first and the silence draws your attention back to him and it’s then you realize he’s looking right at you, so close you can feel his natural heat and the faintest releases of his breath. it would take no effort at all to reach out and touch the tendrils of his hair or his lips pinks and archons you want to. you might even have had it not been for the look he gave you that stopped every function of your body. diluc looked at you as if you were the only thing in this world. like he needed you and with the familiarity of a man who has steeled his resolve.

“.. would you believe me if i said you?”

“m-me?”

he calls your name, the way it sounds coming from his lips always making you yearn for more of him when you thought he could never be yours but now, it’s like it was the most sacred word he had ever said, salvation for a sinner once lost in darkness, that still lived there but could no longer live without you and so desperately wanted to protect you from that with followed him.

the warmth of his hand finds yours, scarred and calloused and no longer covered by leather, strong but soft. you both move to face each other, nearly chest to chest, sharing every inhale of cool night air. he had to tell you. there was no more holding back. no more pressing down the lid of his emotions that constantly spilled over regardless of his strength. no more pretending like this wasn’t what lay within his very soul. there would be no one else trying to covet your heart.

your eyes flutter closed at a comfortable pressure on your forehead, the tickle of crimson hair and a closeness to diluc you would never get enough of.

“i do not just wish for you, i need you and i cannot hold my feelings back any longer,” his words are deep, delicate, nearly whispered against your skin because with every passing second you did not deny him he was closing the distance between you, pressing you against his chest with a hand at your back, your own clinging to him, lost in hair hair and against his clothes. he says your name again. “i love you. with all that i am.-”

“diluc..” your voice choked, tears brimming your eyes, hands shaking in disbelief but the thump of his heart under your palm that beat in sync with your own told you it was real. so very real. “i love you too.”

his forehead lifts from yours and you can barely stand to be this far from him now. nor can you help the tears spilling past your eyes, your emotions crashing into you like waves, engulfing you both while diluc held you steady. you knees were so weak but with his strength he never let you fall, never let you slip from his grasp and he felt his chest rise and fall with deep breaths at the way you cling to him.

“may i kiss you?”

“please.”

his kisses you soft, delicate, as if to not break you but when your arms wrap around his neck, one of his hands cradling the back of your head, lost in your hair, the other at the small of your back keeping you against him, he deepens the kiss. pressing his lips to yours with passion and the truth of his feelings. you return every movement in earnest and he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to return to mondstadt without you when the time comes but right now, and for as long as you’ll have him, he would hold you close, kiss your breathless, bask in your love that he did not deserve but that he could not deny himself from knowing you love him too.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[wcters]

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗘 (𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨)

pairing: joe liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/notes: established relationships, angst (were dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence | no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know! longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would’ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Meet Cute

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is surviving in the apocalypse alone, until she meets a stranger who needs her help, even if he doesn't want to admit it. This is a reimagining of when Daryl gets hurt trying to find Sophia in Season 2, in which the reader shoots Daryl instead of Andrea. This can be read as stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel fic to "Your Fault," describing how reader and Daryl met for the first time. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me).

Era: Hershel farm era.

Tropes: Angst, Fluff (if you squint at it), Patching up someone's wounds.

Warnings: I mean, I don't think there's any. I'll say references to past trauma with survivors, but mentioned only once or twice and not detailed. Blood and gore, because the reader is patching up Daryl's wounds and of course zombies. Cursing, not a lot, but a few words.

Word Count: 4.1K (Oops) (Seriously did not mean for it to be this long.)

Note: There is minimal use of (y/n).  Any references to the reader besides the (y/n) is done using "your" or "you". I tried to proofread the best I could, nobody's perfect. If you don't like, don't read, but if you do like you're my favorite!

Internal monologue is done in italics and is in first person.

ENJOY!

Main Masterlist

Future Fic "Your Fault"

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It was raining and you were having a bad day. You weren’t having a bad day because it was raining, you actually liked standing in the rain, feeling the cool water drip down your face and through your clothes made you feel alive in the best way. It was difficult to find things that made you feel alive, especially after two months in the zombie apocalypse.

You considered yourself lucky, the first day everything went to hell you had slept through it. Pulling a double at the hospital downtown knocked you out and you woke up to the screams and the pounding of feet in the hall of your apartment building.

By then the phones were gone, electricity to the city had been cut off and you were hopelessly alone. Not unwelcome, due to the fact that it had been you on your own since your father had died a year earlier, but still acute enough for you to notice. It took you a week to leave your apartment to try and scavenge for food, even then you were not ready for the carnage that waited on the streets of Atlanta. After another week you realized that you needed to get out, it was too dangerous to be there. The military had failed and there was nothing left for you in the city. So you packed your backpack and said goodbye to your old life. Finding the cabin outside Atlanta was fortuitous, especially after you ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere. That being said when you found it originally, it had its quirks. No windows, a door that hung off its hinges, blood stains on the wooden floors, and no running water all made the cabin less than ideal.

But after two months it was home.

You sigh to yourself as you reset the trap, hiding it underneath the wet dead leaves as rain dripped from the treetops above. Someone or something was getting into your traps. It was the third time in a week it had happened and you were starting to get annoyed. You suspected it was a walker, since you continued to find bits and pieces of squirrel in the forest around the trap.

You continue your trek in the half-circle one mile out from the cabin. It was a nice spot, dense forest with a small creek that ran through, small enough to cross, but enough water that you didn't have to worry about going any further to find it. The only time you left the cabin was to scavenge, but that took a few days of preparation.

Rain pattered softly over the fallen leaves, weaving in and out of the canopy above, and kissing your skin. Being alone never bothered you before, but the thought that you might be the last person on earth was different. It was one thing to choose to be alone, another thing to be forced into it.

The sound of shuffling and sliding leaves makes you pause, ears peeled. You did not see too many walkers where you were and figured that because you were in the middle of nowhere there weren't enough people to turn.

The shuffling gets louder and you duck behind one of the trees, drawing your pistol from the belt at your waist. It was a gift from your father when you moved to Atlanta to start your residency. Target practice every week made you a good shot and helped blow off steam when shifts at the hospital were tough. Unfortunately, you hadn't been able to find many bullets, which prompted you to carry a hunting knife on the opposite side of your waist. The only ammo stores you found were stripped down and desolate. Sometimes you worried what would happen when you ran out.

You hear the heavy exhale of the walker as it continues through the woods behind the tree where you are hiding. You peer around the tree trunk, watching it shuffle along. It's wearing dark clothes, blood dripping from its side as it hunches over and travels away from you. A crossbow is strapped along it's back at an awkward angle and every step it releases a heavy exhale.

You click off the safety. Probably the same walker that's been eating all my squirrels. You think to yourself as you aim the gun at the back of the walker's head and take in a deep breath. But just as you pull the trigger, the walker stumbles to the left and the bullet scrapes along the outside of the walker's skull.

Shit.

As it falls, it hits its head on a tree stump and lies still, face down. You come out from behind the tree cautiously, replacing the pistol at the holster on your waist and pull out the hunting knife. The walker doesn't move.

Okay. I can do this. I can do this-

You tap it with your boot. It groans once, but doesn't make an attempt to get up. Wait. If its groaning and not moving is it not-

You bend down and grab the back of the walker's shirt, avoiding the crossbow to roll it over, and suddenly realize, it's not a walker, it’s a man.

SHIT.

"Hello?" You poke his chest once, twice, but he doesn't respond. "Um- Sir? Are you okay? Can you speak?"

Why did I just call him sir?

The man groans softly, but does not open his eyes.

SHIT.

You hadn't run into many people in the apocalypse. Saw them from afar, but never approached one. Your father had instilled in you that desperate situations bred a new kind of person. No one could be trusted. The one time you had run into a group, you learned that the hard way. You shake it off and look down at the man on the ground.

He's covered in a layer of dirt and grime, a necklace of walker ears hangs over his dark green tank top, a large hunting knife hangs from his waist next to a child's doll, and blood soaks through the side of his shirt.

Why does he have a doll? Is he like one of those truckers on the highway that has a teddy bear strapped to the front of their semi? Because that's kind of weird.

You stepped closer to examine where the blood has stained his shirt along his side. He's really hurt.

You raise your head to look around the forest around you. He doesn't have a pack, his camp must be nearby. Which means that there might be others that come looking for him.

You look back down at the man where the bullet scraped through his hair, watching the blood trickle down the side of his head. You think about leaving him there. I don't know him. I can just walk away no harm done-

You bite your lip. I can't do it. I can't leave him here. You curse your conscience. Now I just have to haul him the entire mile back to my cabin, without waking him up or hurting him.

Great.

*******************************************

Dragging him back to the cabin through the woods and up the front steps took over an hour. You were too afraid to drag him back quickly, afraid that it would do more harm than good especially because you were unsure how bad the wound on his side was. He hadn't woken up, a bad sign, but you were optimistic.

Guilt momentarily fills your chest. You wouldn’t have shot him if you knew he was still alive. You probably would have just let him go on his merry way. But then you think about how he stumbled.

If I let him go, how far would he have gotten? Maybe me taking him is better than the alternative.

Staring at him laying on the hardwood floor made you wonder if this was a bad idea. You didn't know him. He might have a group somewhere and he might be faking to find out where you lived.

If he is faking he is certainly committed. You mused gazing down at him again.

He was older than you, by a few years at least, with brown hair that stuck out in different directions. Your eyes sweep his clothes, nose wrinkling at the strand of walker ears around his neck. His clothes were dirty, covered in dirt and dead blood. You had taken great care with his crossbow, setting it down on the small wooden table that you usually ate at, noticing how clean it was.

He must really care about it.

You couldn’t help but notice how small the man looked laying on the floor. And it made you feel more guilty about shooting him.

You walk away to get your medical bag, it was on the makeshift kitchen counter on the right back wall. The cabin was one room, in one corner there was a giant cabinet filled with whatever cans you could salvage, in another there was a wooden counter with a non-working sink, a small fireplace sat on the left wall, and in another there was a small twin sized bed covered in mismatched blankets. You had been prepping for winter, moving further and further into town to salvage what you could and storing chopped wood against the inside wall by the fireplace. The thought of winter scared you more than you’d care to admit. Especially with the squirrel traps giving less and less each day.

I wonder if this is the person stealing all my squirrels. You frown to yourself. Maybe I shouldn't help him.

You hear a strange sound behind you and as turn around, bag in hand, you notice that the man isn't on the ground anymore. He's standing, crossbow drawn, pointed directly at your chest.

Great.

"Where the hell am I?" The man growls.

Your chest tightens in fear. By the time I reach for my gun he’ll shoot me.

"It’s okay." You force the tremor from your voice, trying your best not to look frightened. The bag drops to the ground  and you hold up your hands in front of you in a gesture of surrender. "You're at my cabin. You're safe."

"Why?" His eyes narrow as he takes another step forward.

This was such a bad idea. Granted I also would have that reaction if I woke up in a strange place.

"I'm a doctor. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You collapsed and I noticed you were bleeding."

He backs up towards the door without turning around, eyes wild, body tense, ready to spring.

"Wait please. I feel really bad-"

The guilt is back now as you look at the scrape along his head and the blood soaked shirt.

"Why?" The man narrows his eyes.

 "Because I-" You scrunch up your face in embarrassment. "I thought you were one of those things and I shot you. I'm sorry."

"You shot me?"

"Yes. I mean, you stumbled at the last second and I missed, but I'm also pretty sure that you hit your head pretty hard."

"What?"

"It felt wrong to leave you there.”

“I don’t need your help.” He spits.

“You’re probably right.” Your hands are still palm up in front of you. “But I thought it would be stupid if you survived this long with those things out there and then died from an infection. That's pretty pathetic." You smile sheepishly at your attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn't smile.

Well the good news is if he leaves I'll never see him again, and I'll be able to forget about this entire awkward exchange. Who am I kidding? It’s going to haunt me at night, right up there with the time I tripped and ate it on the way to the microphone at my 8th grade talent show.

"I don't want your help." The man says again as he turns to go, but groans when he feels the muscles on his side strain with the movement.

"Please." You breathe. "It'll take ten minutes then you can leave and we never have to see each other ever again."

His eyes are still narrowed. They skate across your body sizing you up. “Are you alone?”

The question makes a cold shiver travel down your spine. It's the question that made you avoid other survivors, the question that made you tie your hair up under a hat, wear oversized clothes to hide your body, and a scarf to hide the bottom half of your face.

“If I say yes are you going to attack me?” Your throat is thick when you ask it.

He shakes his head.

You watch him curiously, but even though he’s pointing a crossbow at your chest you don’t think he’s lying. “Then yes.”

The man stands there for another few seconds. “Five minutes.”

“Fine."

He makes no move to lower the crossbow.

"Is it okay if I move or are you going to shoot me?" You raise an eyebrow.

The man sighs and finally lowers the crossbow, which you take as confirmation that you can pick up your medical bag.

What am I doing? I should have just let him leave. You think to yourself, watching the way his eyes dart around the cabin.

You both stand there awkwardly for a second. “You can just sit on the bed. It'll probably be easier than the chair.”

He sits down, but places the crossbow next to him on the bedside table, as if preparing for you to attack him.

You tried to remember the training you had for dealing with unwilling patients. Of course when that happened the hospital let them leave, but you didn’t want him to leave. You felt guilty for shooting him and you felt guilty for dragging him all the way here. And despite not knowing him, you were worried.

He could barely move without it hurting, what would happen if he left? One of those things were sure to get him on the way back wherever he came from.

You pull up a chair, so close to him that your knees are almost touching, and place the bag on your lap, looking through for your supplies.

“How long have I been here?”

“A little over an hour. Took me a while to drag you here. You’re heavier than you look.” You smile up at him, but he continues to frown.

“Are you really a doctor?”

“Why would I lie about that?” You shuffle through the bag, placing the supplies on the bed.

“I don’t know.” He shifts. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No. You're just-“

You wait for him to think of it, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Okay.

“This is going to hurt just for a second.” You soak the cloths in the antiseptic and raise one to the side of his head. The man flinches away from your touch with narrowed eyes. “For this to work I’m going to need to touch you.” You say softly with a gentle smile. You were under the impression that he wasn't mean, rather he just wasn’t used to other people.

He leans forward, looking away from you to give you access to the side of his head. Your left hand brushes away the strands of hair from where the bullet scraped along his head, dabbing with the cloth along the shallow wound. You were happy to note that it didn’t need stitches, but you still wanted to clean it out. The man doesn’t wince when the cloth touches his skin.

“I’m y/n by the way.”

He waits a beat. “Daryl.”

You continue to clean along the wound, concentrating on getting as much blood and dirt away from the opening.

“Have you been out here alone this whole time?” Daryl asks.

“Yeah. How about you?”

“No.”

Guess he doesn’t say a lot.

When you finish with his head, you start to reach for his shirt, but Daryl jumps hand twitching towards the crossbow.

“It’s okay." You smile at him.  "I want to look at your side. If you could just take off your shirt-"

“No.”

“But I have to see it-“

He frowns at you. Finally, Daryl pulls up his shirt only enough for you to see the wound on his side, but no further. Just under the cloth of his shirt where it stops, you see remnants of pink scar tissue.

You try very hard not to look at the pink scar tissue, but you were curious. Was that why he didn't want me to take off his shirt?

He’s not looking at you. In fact the only time he made eye contact with you was when he was holding the crossbow.

“You might need to lie down for this one.”

Daryl eyes you again, before finally he lays down on his side, still not looking at you. The wound on his side is deeper, two piercings that go from the front of his abdomen and through to his back.

Did he shoot himself with the crossbow? How is that even physically possible?

“What happened?”

“Fell.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I think I’m going to need to pour the antiseptic in this one and it's going to hurt. You can hold my hand if you want.” You put your left hand on the bed as a peace offering. He doesn’t take it.

Or not.

As soon as the liquid touches his skin, Daryl fists his hand in the mountain of blankets, clenching his teeth together.

“I know I’m sorry.” You can't help but touch his arm and he flinches back away from you. “But now it’s clean and you don’t have to worry about infection.” You go through the motions with the stitches, pulling the needle through the skin smooth and steady, surprised that Daryl does not react to the needle. You reach for a bandage to cover the affected area. "Okay, so keep this clean, don't raise your arm up too high or the stitches will rip, change the bandage in a day or so. I'm going to give you one to take with you. Do you want some painkillers? I think I have some in here somewhere."

"No."

"Okay." You stand up and move out of his way so that he can get up from the bed, before beginning to look through the bag for a spare bandage.

Daryl stands there for a minute with his crossbow dangling from his right hand as if he's not sure what to say.

"Here." You hold out a bandage.

"Don't need it."

"Are you sure?"

Daryl nods once.

"Well if you rip your stitches or decide you want another bandage, you know where to find me." You can't help but smile at him. 

As much as you were afraid of him at first, you couldn't help but like the interruption in the monotony of your day. And despite his gruff exterior, you liked talking to him. Which was surprising given the fact you hadn't liked talking to anyone else in the past.

He doesn't say anything, instead he starts to walk to the door of the cabin, but he stops. "Thanks." Daryl doesn't look away from the door.

"You're welcome. Be careful out there."

And then he's gone, leaving you in the still silence of the cabin once more.

********************************************

The next few days pass as they usually do. You check the traps, scavenge for water, read a book by the fireplace at night, but every time you leave the cabin you hope to see Daryl again, hope that he'll come back because he needed that bandage or maybe will just come by to sit in utter silence.

That last bit seemed the most in character.

You didn't want to admit to yourself how disappointed you were in the silence that followed his exit. Not because he spoke that much, but even his presence in the cabin made whatever this was easier. Before you relished in the fact that you were alone, but now after you met him, it felt too quiet.

However, you had noticed more dead in the area over the past few days and that made you worry.

What if Daryl never made it back to wherever it was he was going? What if he had gotten attacked as soon as he left? You tried not to think that, because Daryl looked capable enough to survive in the apocalypse. Definitely seemed capable when he held a crossbow to your face.

You jolt awake to the sound of someone frantically knocking against your door.

What?

You tighten your hand on the hunting knife under your pillow before you sit up in bed. Maybe I dreamed that.

Someone kicks open the front door of your cabin.

Definitely didn't dream that.

A ball of fear lodges in the back of your throat as you grab the gun on your bedside table, holding it up between you and the dark figure standing just inside the doorway.

"Y/n?" A familiar voice shouts.

"Daryl?" You lower the gun watching the dark figure turn to barricade the door.

"We have to go."

"Daryl what's wrong-" As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you hear the moaning and shuffling of the dead  followed by the pounding of hands against the door.

Fear makes your entire body freeze. You had been in Atlanta long enough to watch the chaos, watch what happened in the streets, the memories of what you saw keeping you awake more than one night, memories of the masses of bodies swarming survivors and the ungodly screams that followed.

"We gotta go.” He grabs your wrist and hauls you out of bed.

In case of an emergency like this, you always slept fully dressed. You clip your belt around your waist before putting the gun back in the holster and throwing your oversized jacket on over your t-shirt. Your pack is on the floor by the back door. The medical bag is small enough to shove inside the black backpack.

“Come on!” Daryl grabs your hand and pulls you out the back door, dragging you through the woods behind him.

You glance over your shoulder. The moonlight above illuminates the mass of walkers that surely would have destroyed the small cabin and you inside.

He came back for me. The thought makes a surge of gratitude warm in your chest. He didn't even know me and he was willing to fight his way through dead infested woods to save me.

Daryl shoots one that stands in your way, glancing behind him to see the mass of walkers that follow, before letting go of your hand and reloading the crossbow.

“Where are we going?” You shout running behind him, gun drawn.

“Up ahead-“ He responds over his shoulder.

You break out of the tree-line onto a road, where a motorcycle waits haphazardly on the edge of the long grass.

He jumps on the motorcycle revving the engine once, looking up at you expectantly. You don’t hesitate. You kick your leg over the side and wrap your arms around his waist to secure yourself. Daryl's muscles tense as you do, but the motorcycle shoots off, the sound of the engine masking the moans and shuffles of the dead emerging from the trees behind you.

You drive for a few miles, far enough that you put your face into Daryl's back to block the onslaught of wind that comes up over the road.

As soon as Daryl hits the interstate he weaves through the broken cars, before finally parking in the median. The world sounds quieter without the roar of the motorcycle, you notice as the smooth silence of the night returns.

"Why did you come back for me?" You ask him, as you get off the seat before you can stop yourself.

Daryl lights a cigarette, not meeting your eye. "You helped me."

"After I shot you."

"You missed." He shrugs.

You snort. "I did." You look out over the desolate interstate where cars are haphazardly parked and empty luggage cases spew clothing onto cracked pavement. "So what now?"

Daryl blows out a lungful of smoke. "You could-" He stops.

"What?"

"Well." Daryl shifts his feet, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Daryl?" You try to catch his eye worried that he's going to tell you to go away, that he's going to say goodbye right here right now.

"My group is supposed to meet up here." He doesn't meet your eye. "If you want you could come with us, but you don't have to." In the moonlight you swear you see his ears turn pink.

"Well," You sigh looking around. "How else am I going to repay you for saving my life? Might as well stick around."

"We're even."

"No. I think saving someone from zombies trumps suturing a wound. Plus, somebody's got to make sure you don’t shoot yourself with your crossbow again."

Daryl frowns. "I didn't shoot myself with my crossbow."

"I think that you did and that you're too embarrassed to say anything. But don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

He continues to frown at you, but it only makes you smile wider.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

***********************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, be sure to read "Your Fault!"

[brnesblogposts]

story of us

pairing: dexter mayhew x reader

a/n: part of a series that’s also on my ao3 wr1tingtoc0pe :)

————————————

I met Dexter Mayhew on my last day of university. It was our graduation ball and I was dancing with my friends when he caught my eye, not for the first time however.

I’d always noticed him, I’m sure he’d never noticed me but I saw him, he’s hard to forget. Dexter had this aura about him that could only be described as enthralling, not only that but gorgeous blue eyes and a smile that could kill.

20 years ago

“Hi, i’m Dex” The brightest smile made his eyes light up as he held out his hand towards me, the music and lights seemed to stand still as we made eye contact. It took me a few seconds to register that he was talking to me, after an awkward amount of time I finally shook his outstretched hand. he’d never acknowledged me in the four years we’d been on campus together. I gave him my name and told him I knew who he was already, “ The infamous Dexter Mayhew.” I smiled, as did he and I think my heart stopped for a second.

…

“Do you want to dance?”

“I mean I kind of already am” I stated plainly.

“I mean with me” He let out a little scoff, not really a laugh but not not a laugh..

“Oh. yeah, sure” I took the hand he held out to me as he lead me to a quieter area of the dance floor, I could hear my friends squealing as we disappeared.

19 years ago

“Dex!” I ran with outstretched arms for an embarrassing amount of time, probably should’ve waited until I was closer to him really.. when I finally reached him I dropped my bags as he stretched out his arms and I jumped into them, wrapping my arms around his neck as he spun me around laughing.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” he took my bags in his arms.

“Actually i’m just happy to be off of that train. Seven hours.. my bum is sore.” I pouted dramatically as we started walking off of the platform and to the car park.

..

“This time last year we were at the grad ball, can you believe it’s been a year?!” Dexter questioned and I shook my head as the memories of that night ran through my mind.

“I really can’t, i’ve put up with you for a whole year! I deserve a medal.” I spoke exasperatedly and laughed when he gasped,

“you’ve put up with me?? i’ve been putting up with you!” He bumped his shoulder into mine as we reached the car, he opened the boot and put my bags in and then ever the gentleman opened the passenger door for me.

“Dexter Mayhew, what a gentleman,” I quipped as he tipped his imaginary hat at me, closed the door and walked around to the drivers seat.

…

“We’ve been out of university for a year and I have accomplished nothing.” I sighed as I walked next to Dex down the high street.

“We’re twenty three, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, we’ll figure it out.” Dex and I were quite different when it came to our outlook on life, he was all about having fun and living for the moment, ever the optimist with the mindset that everything would work itself out. My mindset was quite the opposite, ever the over thinker. Dex was good like that, he was always there to remind me to be in the moment and to have fun rather than stress about the future.

“What do you think we’ll be doing at forty?” It seems so far away but in reality, it’s not.

“I don’t know what i’m going to be doing tomorrow, let alone at forty” How I wish I could live life like Dex could, no plan or worries about the future. “I will say one thing though. I hope I have children by the time i’m forty” This revelation took me surprise because I didn’t know Dex had even thought about that kind of stuff, “what?” He had a little smile on his face as I gathered my thoughts.

“I didn’t think you thought about that kind of stuff” it was endearing that he had though, Dexter with children.. I mustn’t think about it or I might just melt into a puddle of adoration. Before he respond I spoke again “you’d be a great dad, the best.” Maybe he doubted himself because his smile grew at my words, Dexter Mayhew an aspiring father, never would’ve thought it.

“Do you want kids?” he asked as we entered a quaint café and I waited until we had sat down to answer

“I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, kids are expensive and there’s so many global issues I don’t know if I want to bring a child into this mess-“ I stopped talking when I saw the sly smile on his face as my eyes found the table, “can you stop staring at me like that, please.”

“Sorry” He seemed to have more to say but he didn’t, “What do you fancy?” You is what I wanted to say, but i’m not that stupid.. I dare ruin this beautiful friendship we’ve forged over the last year.

————-

reblogs appreciated! turn on notifs for this post to be notified for part 2 <3

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 7

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of Sex Scenes (No Description)

Words count: 5.4k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 8

“How’s Tokyo?”

It’s only a few words, barely a full sentence. However, it took Osamu a whole fifteen minutes to write and almost a face-first collision with the glass door of Tokozu, his favourite kitchen knife store in Osaka. The man found the exercise harder than any literature essay he ever had to do in high school (and Osamu, despite being named after a famous novelist, was never fond of literature). But now, the message is sent and there’s no going back.

His meditation instructor as well as one red-haired hitter, told him he should stop overthinking, and for the last month, Osamu thinks he did a good job at calming his stormy mind. But it’s different now, you’ve been in Tokyo for three days (or what feels like six months, at least to him), and apart from the message to ask you if you arrived safely (which you did), Osamu hasn’t contacted you in 72h. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he just needs to give space. He told you how he feels, exposed his fragile heart to you, and now what you do with it is your decision and yours only.

Still, Osamu wants to act casual like before (and also shows that he cares), something he hasn’t been good at for the past months. You miss the old Osamu, the friend you could always rely on, the one who wouldn’t mind letting food burn on the stove if you needed him. Maybe it’s time for that man to come back.

Thus, this morning, as he strolls through the streets of Osaka, heading to the store, he sends you those few words.

“Good morning, Sir,” a forty-year-old something greets him when he enters. “May I help you with something?”

Osamu’s eyes wander all around the shelves before describing what he is looking for.

“There’s a couple of knives that could meet your requirements.” The man starts showing him various options when Osamu’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

It’s you.

The younger man excuses himself and runs towards the exit. He waits two or three rings before answering.

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Osamu,” you tell his name, his heart skips a beat (or a thousand). “How are you? Is this a good time to call?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I was just in town to buy a new knife for the fish.”

“Oh, maybe I should call later then-”

“No!” He cuts you off, someone passing by is startled by his sudden outburst. He avoids their gaze, “It’s fine now. So… how have ya been?”

“I’m great,” you reply, and he can hear the excitement in your voice, “I love it here. The JVA offices are in that huge building in Omiya, and everyone is wearing suits and there’s even a bakery on the ground floor, so I usually take something there and go to the park. I can’t wait for the cherry blossoms to bloom, it’s gonna be beautiful. And I need to take you to the bakery, you’d love the cannelés.”

Osamu holds back his laughter at your French accent, cute, he thinks.

“There’s already a communication team,” you continue, “everyone is so kind and to be able to discuss my ideas with everyone is such a cool thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love working with the Jackals but…well, the guys aren’t the best at giving advice when it comes to their social media. Except for your brother, actually.”

“I’m glad,” Osamu says with a soft voice.

“And Kuroo is amazing to work with and he’s actually kinda funny sometimes, but he has that weird laugh-anyway, I think he likes my work… But that doesn’t mean he's going to keep me on after my trial period.”

Osamu is relieved, happy even, that you’re enjoying your life there, but when he is about to express it, the words get stuck in his throat and no sound leaves his lips.

There’s a silence following your story, and you’re the one who breaks it. “I’m coming back in two days.”

“And I’ll be there.”

“Also… in three weeks or something, the National Team is having their last public practice match before the Olympics and it’s in Osaka, are you going to install a stall at the gym?”

“Yeah, I will. Ya know how the guys will react if I don’t.”

You chuckle, probably picturing some very disappointed—and hungry— Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata (and Meian, though he’d tried to keep a straight face since he has the role of captain to uphold). “Cool, then, I’ll be there.”

“That’s my line.”

You offer him a genuine laugh and a warm feeling spreads through his stomach, which stays even after the call ends.

Two more days. Osamu counts in his head.

He takes a deep breath and enters the shop for the second time, this time being careful with not banging his face into the glass door.

“Can’t ya just stop movin’, please?” Atsumu begs and a sound comes out of his throat, something between a sigh and a groan. 

But his demand doesn’t seem to reach his brother’s ears—even though he said “please”, ‘Samu, ya spoiled brat—as said brother continues to pace like a caged animal in their cramped living room.

“I’m goin’ now.” Osamu finally announces.

“Gosh,” The setter rolls his eyes, “her train arrives in two hours.”

“What if there’s traffic on the way?”

“Ya know what? Just leave, yer so damn annoyin’ right now.”

“Moron,” Osamu exclaims, slamming the door on its way out.

It’s too late for Atsumu to say more than just an offended, “Oi!” since his twin already left the apartment.

There’s no traffic on the way and Osamu is forced to wait for you—though it doesn’t matter how long he must wait; if he had to endure a lifetime of longing just to see you again, he would agree in a blink of an eye.

The only bad thing is that time passes very slowly, and it makes him think over and over again about what might happen.

And the conclusion he comes up with is that two paths are unfolding before him: whether the kiss you shared on the doorframe of your apartment is the last remnant of what could have been, or perhaps the first tender step toward something beautiful. Maybe in a few minutes, he’ll have to pretend nothing happened and go back to being friends or stop hiding his feelings and share them with the world.

When you emerge from the station, your blue scarf sticking out of your bag since the weather has warmed up delicately in the last five days, Osamu feels the rhythm of his heart quickening.

You greet each other, get back in the car, and he starts driving.

One second after the other, even though you’re there now, he keeps waiting.

The silence is heavy but somehow it doesn’t cloud his thoughts. Osamu could be analysing each single one of your moves (you scratch your nails, you keep looking at your phone even if you don’t receive any notification), your expressions (you didn’t meet his eyes when you arrived, your smile is tense), but he doesn’t because he has learned better than to attempt to assume how you feel; it only leads to chaos. The man has no control over this situation and whatever happens, he’ll accept it. Nothing matters more than yielding to your choices. Break his heart, move to Tokyo, sever ties forever (please don’t)—he’ll endure it all if it means your happiness.

“Thank you for coming.” You finally say gently.  

 “Sure.” He waits and after a moment of hesitation, adds, “Ya know… I’ve been waitin’ to see ya.”

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to create a knot in his chest.

“You have?” You ask, your voice quiet, unsure.

“Yeah,” he admits, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. If you’re about to turn him down, at least, he needs to be honest one more time. “Been thinkin' about ya all day. All week, actually.”

He laughs, a bit too awkwardly, trying to play it off. “Can I say that? Don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable but I guess I’m just really bad at actin' casual, huh?”

Your soft chuckle makes his heart race all over again. “Not as bad as you think, Osamu. I’m happy if we can talk openly to each other without being afraid of what the other thinks. That’s what we used to do.” You clear your throat, “And actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”

There it is, he thinks, the opening he’s been waiting for. He decides to pull over to the side of the road since you almost made it to your place. He licks his lips nervously before turning to you, your eyes don’t meet his when you speak again.

“So… I’ve been thinking. I wanted to have that conversation with you later, not in the car like that, but like you said, it’s hard to act casual…Listen, Osamu.” You finally turn to your right, to him.

Osamu thought he could know how you’re feeling just by seeing the look on your face but right now he is unsure. It’s exciting to know there’s still so much to learn about you, but also threatening because he can’t anticipate your next words and it’s suffocating.

“You’re the kindest person I know, you’re funny and you’re reliable and there’s no one in this entire world, and please don’t tell Umi, with whom I feel so at ease. I’ve never really been into stuff like soulmates you know, even with Rin, I believed he was the love of my life, and it turned out I was wrong. But with you it’s different, it’s like the universe has led me to you. That fact will never change, whatever we … become.” Your voice falters, “But… I made so many sacrifices for Rin, and I don’t regret them, they made me who I am now, but I promised myself I would never do such things again… Yet, I was in my hotel room in Tokyo, finally finding my dream job and loving the team, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how I wanted to be with you in Osaka, how I wanted to kiss you again… I feel so weak Osamu ‘cause I love you too. I do want us to be together but not like that. I can’t miss this opportunity. If I stay in Osaka, I will resent myself for not choosing my dream and if I leave for Tokyo, I know I’ll regret not being with you… But I have to make a choice.”

“Can’t ya have both? Me and Tokyo?”

You sigh before looking down at your lap. Osamu thinks he saw your eyes getting wet, “I wish I could, but you know how I feel about distance relationships.”

Of course, he knows; he was there when you suffered through the distance that separated you from your first love years ago and how it led to a heartbreak.

“What if I come with y-”

“Don’t even think about it, Osamu. I am not following my dream for you to give up yours.” Your voice is firm, but there’s a hint of pain behind your words. “I swear I thought about all the options because I know you’re right for me… but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Osamu was convinced there were only two paths, one where you love him, one where you don’t. But what if there is a third option? What if you love him but fear getting hurt?

It’s not that she doesn’t like you, she’s just afraid, Umi told him. He recalls precisely the moment your best friend pronounced those words to him.

There’s hope. Osamu has to hold on to it.  

“Give me one month.”

“Huh?” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“I’ll find a solution, I’ll make it work, I promise.”

“Osamu,” you sigh again, this time it sounds desperate, perhaps frustrated, “this is not some sort of romantic movie, this is real life.”

“I know that, and I’ll find a real solution.”

“What if you don’t find the solution after that month? I know how heartbreaks feel like Osamu, this is only going to hurt you and-”

“Nothing can hurt me more than runnin’ away when I could have tried making it work.”

There’s something in your eyes that shines behind your closed face and clenched jaw.

The atmosphere changes in the car, maybe because of the night falling, or maybe because of something else.

“When we were first years, we weren’t in the same class, but at the sports festival, we were put on the same team for the relay.” You start recalling, the sudden shift in topic catches him off guard, but he lets you continue anyway.

“Umi wasn’t in my team, and I was already not motivated to run the race, especially in front of everyone but it got worse when I was put before you. Can you imagine me, giving the stick to Miya Osamu? You were popular, girls loved you, boys admired you, and I was no one. Sure, I could run fast but I didn’t care about winning that damn event. I guess… the only things I cared about were having Rin looking at me and not tripping in front of your fangirls. But on the day of the festivals, do you remember what you told me?”

He shakes his head. You were always better at remembering stuff.

“You said ‘Trust me, just do your thing and I’ll make it work’. I trusted you; I did what I had to do, and we won.”

You cover your face with your hands abruptly and grumble, “Fuck, I really thought I made up my mind but…” Then, you take a long inspiration before looking at him again. Your eyes pierce his soul, find him where he is the most vulnerable, but also the most in love, “If I trust you one more time… Can you promise you’ll not let me down?”

“I’d do anything for ya to give me a chance.”

He says your name as he promises. There’s something obvious in your eyes when you look at each other, it’s not just hope that Osamu feels, it’s certain and deep. As if nothing could come between you.

You break the distance.

The kiss is softer than the last one. Osamu tries to take his time to appreciate the taste of your lips and the feeling your tongue leaves on his.

No need to rush, he knows it’s the first kiss of a long series (whether it lasts a month or a hundred years).

You pull back with a smile, “Oh, by the way, I have not forgotten that you owe me an explanation for all the times you ignore me. And you better hear what I have to say to you on that matter because you sure hurt me. It might take hours for me to tell you how bad you made me feel.”

“And I’d listen for hours.”

“You’re such a smooth talker.” You chuckle and open the passenger door, “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow ‘Samu.”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what my brother calls me, can’t ya find something else like my lov-”

“Shut up you idiot, I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll submit.” He teases and his grin is both sincere and charming, it makes you lift your eyes in the air.

You laugh one more time before getting out, “sweet dreams.”

He bids you goodnight in return.

Things go well.

You try to see each other often. Now that Osamu has his Sundays free, he makes the most of them to take you on dates. In the evening, you cook dinner at home and in the morning, you stop by Onigiri Miya to get the bento he prepared for you. You always thank him with a kiss on the lips, a caress on the cheeks and sometimes the make out session gets a little bit out of hand. One day, despite your complaints about how you might get caught, Osamu doesn’t stop until Sato and Nagisa enter the shop (“Oops, didn’t mean to interrupt”, one of them say and Osamu tells you later how they kept on teasing him all day long. “It’s only yer fault though”, he exclaims, “yer too pretty.” And you push him on the chest, your cheeks turning red and your smile wide.)

You receive an email from Kuroo one Tuesday night, with a contract attached to it, waiting to be filled with your signature.

It’s hard to hide your smile, “I got the job.”

Osamu jumps from his chair to yours and kisses you, “I expected no less from my Champion.”

You open your mouth to say something and your boyfriend notices how your bite your lips. The long-distance relationship is starting now, that’s probably what you’re about to say, but Osamu doesn’t want to lose this moment thinking about what’s coming after, so he goes through your kitchen’s cupboards and gets a bottle of sake.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“We have somethin’ to celebrate, don’t we?” His boyish smile makes your heart melt, and you nod.

“Let’s go to Tokyo tomorrow to look for an apartment.” He proposes later.

Your brows knit together, “but your restaurant…”

“I can close it.”

Osamu looks at you with the determined eyes you thought he had lost. It’s confident and calm at the same time, it’s kind, and so particularly him. It’s the same look he had when you won the relay a decade ago, when he told you he got your back during your heartbreak, and when he swore he’d do anything to be with you.

This time, you're the one who kisses him, and you taste of sake. His hands find the skin of your lower back and the man wonders how he could have missed out on something so soft all these years. Maybe it’s the alcohol but his mind becomes intoxicated, still, it feels good, and the next second he lifts you to lead you to the bedroom.

The next morning, your head hurts—and so do your muscles—but Osamu makes sure to cover every inch of your body with kisses as an apology (to which you don’t complain).

Finding an apartment in Tokyo is a drag at first. Between the too high-priced single-rooms and the over-demanding landlords, your energy is drained at the end of the day.

“I’ll never be able to find something…” You whine.

“Hey,” Osamu flicks your forehead lightly, “don’t say that it’s only the first day. Let’s find an hotel for tonight and we'll continue tomorrow.”

“What about Onigiri Miya?”

“Sato and Nagisa can manage.”

“Thank you, Osamu, you’re the best. Oh, what’s Sato’s first name by the way?”

“I forgot,” Osamu gets up from the bench where you were both sat and starts walking. You don’t ask for more.

Eventually, Osamu gets back to Osaka the next day because “Osamu-san, we’re running out of spicy sauce, what’s the recipe again? I tried something but it tastes like-”, “Like shit.”, “Oi! Rin don’t say that.” And even though he loves helping you, he must admit he misses being in the kitchen.

Your apartment hunt ends up with a last-minute offer for a one-bedroom place near your office and with a view on the park.

“Yer kitchen is better than mine,” Osamu clicks his tongue.

“That gives you a good reason to come visit me.”

“I’m thinkin’ about more than just one reason to visit ya.”

“You pervert,” you tease, and he tries to defend himself, but it’s probably a lost cause, for deep down, Osamu knows you’re right.

So yes, three weeks pass, and things go pretty well between you two.

It's been a week since he last saw you, though you FaceTime every evening—both to tell him about your day and to show him the first pieces of decoration you've put up; a few flowerpots, two cups on the counter (one for him, one for you), and a framed picture of you and Umi.

And today is the National Team last public practice match, so it means Osamu gets to finally see you in person (yesss, he mumbles when rolls out of bed at dawn.)

The match starts at 1 p.m., the crowd is expected at noon, and Osamu spends the late morning setting up his onigiri stall in the gym’s hall. His hands move automatically as he arranges the ingredients and checks his prep. He tries to focus on his routine because his mind is far from calm.  Sure, he is happy to see you but he knows you’re also waiting for the “real solution” to overcome the distance. But Osamu hasn’t found it yet, not even when you packed your bags and moved in Tokyo officially.Time is running out.

Nagisa probably noticed the somehow stressed mood of his boss and finds himself even more careful than he usual is.

“Can I have one… Ginger chicken onigiri please?”

Nagisa greets you respectfully and Osamu immediately turns to where you stand with widen eyes as if he wasn’t expecting you.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey.” He replies back and the man has to fight the stupid grin tugging at his lips. “Just give me a second.”

Osamu hands you your order, “Enjoy.”

“Those are new, huh?”

“Yeah, for the Spring Menu.” He explains, trying to keep his cool, but his smile sneaks through.

“I can’t wait to try then,” You smile back, your eyes meeting his. He could stand there all day, just soaking in this moment. But he’s working and you have a volleyball match to attend.

“Well, I’m gonna join Kita-san now. And also-” you glance behind you at the growing line. “Don’t wanna hold up the queue.”

Before he can even think of a reply, you wave and step away. He watches as you walk toward where Kita is waiting and both disappear in the stands. His heart warms at the sight.

The hours pass as the match begins, Osamu and Nagisa catch glimpses of the game through the screens scattered around the hall. Atsumu starts the first set, naturally, and Osamu can't help but grumble to himself when his brother is swapped out for Kageyama in the second. By the time his twin closes the final set with a signature service ace, Osamu rolls his eyes, already dreading the inevitable rambling about it later tonight.

“Atsumu-san is amazing,” Nagisa says and his eyes shine at the screen.

“Well, keep that for yerself please.” Osamu straightens up and starts packing up his stall.

The crowd begins to disperse, he can hear it from a distance. He’s just about ready to close up when a familiar face appears, slightly out of breath.

“Are you still open?” one Akaashi Keiji says with a sheepish smile.

Osamu simply remarks that he’s always open for his best client, and it makes Akaashi even more embarrassed. “That’s very considerate of you Miya-san. Sorry I didn’t come by earlier. I arrived late.”

“No problem,” Osamu replies, handing him his usual set of onigiri. “Yer favorite as always.”

Akaashi accepts the food, then hesitates before speaking. “There’s a new onigiri shop near my workplace, you know. I gave it a try, but... well, they don’t come close to yours.”

Osamu chuckles. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“But don’t worry, Miya-san,” Akaashi continues, putting his glasses back on, “I’m not going to try to convince you to open a shop in Tokyo this time. I learned my lesson. Besides, you’re probably already too busy with your current restaurant.”

Osamu opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out of it. Instead, his mind goes blank, and a cloud makes his brain unable to think. But not in an oppressive way, no, this time the cloud is light and pleasant.

Something seems to click inside him, as if a thought that has been buried suddenly rises to the surface. He’s always brushed off the idea of expanding, but now... maybe it’s time to stop putting things aside. His decision comes in a flash, and before he can second-guess it, he’s calling out to his part-time employee.

“Hey, Nagisa! Can ya finish up closin’ the stall? I gotta go.”

Without waiting for an answer, Osamu takes off, scanning the crowd for you. He spots you near the exit, chatting with a few familiar faces. His heart beats faster as he approaches.

He says your name, “Can we talk?”

You raise an eyebrow, but you nod, leading him to a quieter spot—the room where you used to work as the Jackals’ communication manager.

“So,” you begin, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. “What’s going on?”

Osamu takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinkin’... ‘bout how I can make this work.”

“Make what work?”

“Us.” The word feels huge, but it’s the only thing that matters right now. “I’ve decided... I’m gonna open a shop in Tokyo.”

Your eyes widen, clearly taken aback. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll expand,” Osamu says, his voice is firm. “I’ll open a shop in Tokyo, so we don’t have to do this long-distance thing. I want to be with ya. There are a lot of things I need to think about like findin’ the right place and hirin’ new people, it might take a little bit of time but I have the cash, and I know it’s gonna be alright. Can ya trust me on this?”

The last question is said with more softness, maybe with a bit of fear. But there’s still this determination in his eyes that you love so much.

You seem to process his words for a moment, and he holds his breath, waiting for your reaction. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face. Without warning, you throw your arms around him, and he catches you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Of course, I trust you,” you whisper against his shoulder and Osamu feels a shiver running down his spine.

“Honestly…” he speaks again, “I’m already pretty busy with the restaurant but maybe it’s time for the business to grow.”

“And I’ll be here for you. We’ll go through this together.”

Just as you’re about to kiss—something Osamu has been craving since you entered the venue—the door swings open.

Bokuto’s loud voice fills the room with your name, and both of you jump apart, startled.

“What-what’s going on here?” The outside hitter blurts out. His expression is one of shock, like a child who just caught their parents placing presents under the tree instead of Santa Claus.

“Are-are you…?” He points his finger at you, one after the other.

“We’re datin’.” Osamu replies first.

“But we want to keep it quiet for now,” you add, not noticing how Osamu’s brows furrow. Had ya mentioned this before? he wonders but keeps the question to himself. After all, it’s fine—it’s not like he was planning on going all loud and proud about your relationship like his brother would. Still, the thought lingers.

Bokuto grins, clapping his hands together. You’re both surprised by the change in his attitude (even though you should be used to Bokuto’s moody antics by now). “About time! Anyway, the team’s going out for drinks. You guys coming?”

You both nod. Once Bokuto disappears, you sneak a small kiss on the corner of his lips before opening the door again. He holds back a frustrated grunt—he wanted more, but who can blame him? After all, he’s a Miya; aiming for more is in his genes.

You find yourself sitting between your boyfriend and Bokuto in a busy izakaya. The room is loud, and it smells like fried meat and beers. For once, you're not the only girl at the table since some of the players' partners are here too. Osamu’s eyes keep drifting back to you, even while Komori is recounting some ridiculous story about how he saved Kiyoomi’s life when they were kids—which the younger cousin firmly denies. He listens, nodding politely, but his gaze betrays him as it keeps landing on you. You’re engaged in a conversation with Meian's fiancée, something about her upcoming wedding as Osamu picks up some words related to that topic.

“Oi, listen up!” Atsumu calls once all the drinks are served. He raises his glass. The chatter dies down, and all eyes turn to him. “First of all, congrats to the team on today's win. We smashed it, boys. Let’s keep it goin’, and we’ll do even better at the Olympics!” A round of cheers follows, glasses clinking together.

“And second, let’s give a round of applause to Shoyo-kun, who’s just signed a contract with Asas São Paulo! - Is that how ya say it? Anyway, I’m gonna miss settin’ to ya man, but ya truly deserve it.” Hinata grins, showing all his teeth, and rubs the back of his head as he thanks everyone.

“And finally,” Atsumu pauses dramatically and smirks, “I gotta congratulate Tobio-kun for his solid performance in the second set... even though I’m the one who finished the game off with that perfect serve.”

Kageyama, ever stoic, only bows his head slightly and mutters some “Thank you.”

Aran turns to Osamu, “Will yer brother ever be humble?”, his tone is both desperate and exasperated.

The older twin hears the remark and starts justifying his words, but it only creates a ripple of laughter all around the table.

Bokuto suddenly stands up, taking Atsumu’s role, with an unexpected serious face. “I’ve got something to say too,” he begins and raises his glass in your direction, before saying your name. “I wanna thank you for all the work you’ve done managing our social media for almost a year. You really helped us connect with our fans, and I just-”

Akaashi, sitting to Osamu’s right, leans over and whispers to your boyfriend, “But Kuroo-san told me she’s still managing the Jackals' social media, even if it’s not her main focus anymore.”

“I will.” You announce, high enough for Koutarou to hear. “I’m not completely leaving the Jackals.”

Sakusa sighs heavily. “We already know that. Bokuto’s just being dense as usual,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, you’re not leaving us?” Bokuto asks and his large amber eyes get glassy.

“No, I’ll still be around. I’ll be based in Tokyo most of the time, but I’ll come by every couple of months.” You smile at him gently.

Bokuto grins before sitting down with a long sigh of relief.

The next minute, he turns to you and Osamu. His eyes scan around and he drops his voice to a whisper, “So... you’ll be in a long-distance relationship?”

From under the table, Osamu squeezes your hand, and you return the gesture with a soft smile.

“Actually... I’ve been thinkin’ about openin’ a shop in Tokyo. It’s still just an idea, though, so let’s keep it between us for now.”

“Dude, that’s another secret I have to keep! But you can count on me.” He takes a sip of beer before adding, “Oh and I’m happy for you two.”

Osamu intertwines his fingers with yours, for the first time in a while it feels like everything is falling into place. As if he can finally exhale after holding his breath for so long, because nothing can come between you now.

He glances at you; you’re absolutely beautiful. It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you appear in his eyes. There’s so much he wishes to tell you right now, so many more touches he wants to share. The desire to be selfish takes over and he leans in. As he parts his lips to whisper that he loves you, Atsumu shouts.

“SUNARIN! So cool you made it!’

You drop his hand in a sharp, almost reflexive move.

Your knees no longer touch each other, a thin void is left where your shoulder was resting.

Suna strides into the izakaya. Osamu can’t help but look at you, as his former teammate approaches to greet everyone. You’re clearly troubled by the situation, and after all, it’s only normal. What Osamu doesn’t like though, is how your gaze is glued to your ex now and how all your attention is directed towards the middle blocker, instead of him.

He feels his lungs get smashed all over again.

Because just when he thought everything was finally settling, it hits him that perhaps, there’s still one more obstacle to overcome.

author notes: i hope you love roller coasters haha

i really enjoyed introducing new characters from haikyuu even though it's only for a small part of the chapter

did you guys love this chapter? (only 1 left btw)

sorry for the delay againnn

lots of love

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace, @cinnamonruts

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 19: It feels cold and empty /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: They try to adjust to a life where they don't have each other anymore.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of fighting and suicide.

Notes: if you're triggered by suicide scenes, please don't read this. If you're not, please enjoy..

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

She nervously picked at the cuticles of her nails, every pair of eyes watching her curiously, not a word being said since she had been sitting in the council room of Aelin Galathynius’s castle for the last thirty minutes. The double doors burst open and she recoiled into herself further at the sight of Manon’s golden eyes, looking around the room until they landed on her. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Her queen’s voice reverberated through the chambers and she took a deep breath. 

“It’s a very long story.” Manon nodded, sitting on the empty chair by Aelin’s side. 

“We have plenty of time, I actually cleared my schedule for the day.” The younger queen winked at her, she could sense the curiosity pouring out of Aelin since her sentries had brought her there, Meraxes somewhere she didn’t know.

“I don’t even know where I should start..” She took a moment to recompose her breath and looked at the face of her own queen once more. “Let’s start with the golden eyes of a King.” 

Manon, Aelin and Rowan didn’t say a thing as she recalled everything that had happened on the time she was away, in too many details she described Velaris and the kindness of the faes she met there, she talked about the powerful wings and the bravery of a new type of people she met. The curses of this land in the hands of the middle born Valg King. She told them how Mantyx went there and how they, just like Elena once did, failed to kill him and sealed him and let the problem to those who would come after them. 

She told them how using the powers of Celeste and the cauldron, they broke the seal and killed him in his own home, preventing him from conquering Prythian like he intended to do since the beginning. She talked about the key and the gate, reassuring them that it would never be a problem as they didn’t have any interest in leaving their own world behind. 

She talked about the good friends she made, and how she would miss them dearly but she knew she had to come home. She didn’t say anything about Azriel to them, a selfish part of her didn’t want to share him with anyone, he was hers and hers only to keep tucked away in her heart forever, where he would never be hurt and unloved again. 

“We’re glad to have you back.” Rowan said after she was done, nodding his head toward the female, his trained eye on the tattoo on her arm, as she nervously rolled her sleeves up, revealing the drawing to them. 

“This world you described, it somehow feels familiar, when i close my eyes i can get a glimpse of beautiful stars and snow covered mountains.” Aelin stated, like a distant dream that bubbled in her mind, she had seen it when she was falling through the worlds, the male had helped her stop so she wouldn’t miss her home. 

“I can’t even imagine all of that, but as Rowan said, we’re happy to have you back, we should go back home.” Manon said, rising from her seat and thanking Aelin for having them there. Y/N did the same, following her queen outside. 

She almost laughed at the thought of calling this her home, as once someone said to her that home is where your heart is, and her was worlds apart from her, with the Shadowsinger she gave it to, the male she would love until the last day she walked this earth, maybe not even death would be enough to erase her love for him.

As she crossed the busy streets, she couldn’t avert her gaze from the statue built for them, their faces sculpted in stone, their swords raised together towards the stars, written in a beautiful handwritten at the base of the statue, she could read. 

“From now until the darkness claims us. In honour of the brave warriors that gave their life for this land.” Asterin in the middle of them, leading them to the battle. She hated it, she despised the reminder of the family she lost, the people she never stood a chance of saving, she hated the reminder that no matter what she did differently that day, she could not change their sacrifice. She hated it because it reminded her of how, late at night between sobs, she wished the darkness would claim her too just so all the pain would be gone. 

She found Meraxes sat by Abraxo’s side, his eyes distant, looking at where once a gap stood, like he too missed that land. But as Y/N climbed his leg, adjusting herself into the seat, she mumbled to him to forget that. They would never come back, and then, he carried them back to the Witch Kingdom. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“It’s been four months.” Feyre said, rubbing Nyx’s hair out of his eyes. 

“I guess locking him up at the House of Wind won’t work this time.” Nesta remarked, making Feyre roll her eyes at her. The inner circle sat at the dining table in the River House,worried about Azriel’s declining state.

Ever since she left, he had been sadder, angrier, snapping at anyone who dared to show a little bit of concern towards him. They could never imagine what it felt like, knowing your mate, getting to love her and having her falling in love with you too, just for her to be gone, to never come back. 

“What if he tries something?” Elain asked, Lucien held her hand in a reassuring grip.

“We won’t allow it.” He said, Lucien was the one trying the hardest to look out for Azriel, because his best friend would be pissed with him if he didn’t try, she would want her mate to be as fine as he possibly could, and Lucien would ensure that for her.

“We could kidnap her back.” Cassian suggested and the whole table turned to him, looking at him like he had three heads.

“Oh Mother, we’re not kidnapping someone, what are we? Hybern?” Rhysand said, eyeing his brother with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Azriel needs time, how much time he deems fit to get better, all we can do is pray to the Mother that he gets well soon, and show him that we’re here for him.”

“Talking about it..” Elain said getting up, fixing her skirts and nodding towards Lucien. “I’ll check on him.” She grabbed her mate’s hand, receiving an approving nod from Rhys, they winnowed to the House of Wind.

His room was dark and quiet, Azriel lay with his face pressed to his pillows, a dry trail of tears down his cheeks, his hair was messy, his shadows gathered around him quietly, like they too didn’t have the motivation to move. 

“Az.” Elain called, crouching in front of his eyes, those hazel orbs that had once radiated life once, were dull and glassy, he didn’t even greet her. “I brought something for you to eat, I’ll open the curtains and Lucien will help you shower, okay?” She said in a cheerful voice, but the male kept quiet. 

Elain did as she told, opening the curtains to let some sunshine enter his chambers, he hissed and she took it as a good sign that he could still feel something at least. She removed the covers from him, the blankets disappearing as the house helped her to get his room clean. 

“Okay, time to shower.” Lucien said, him and Elain supporting his body, dragging the defeated male towards the bathroom. Elain thanked Lucien for his help as she left the two alone. Lucien didn’t even bother anymore, he had done the same for Tamlin a while ago, so he stripped Azriel naked, letting the male soak in the warmth of the bath the house prepared. 

Lucien rubbed shampoo in his scalp, watching as slowly his shoulders started to shake and broken sobs parted his lips. He didn’t know what to say but he would wait if, for once, Azriel felt like talking today. Lucien almost gasped in surprise when the male, in fact, spoke.

“I feel pathetic.” He breathed and Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Four months depending on others because i can’t get a fucking grip.” He sounded angry, hurt. 

“There’s no shame in needing help.” Lucien gently replied, washing the bubbles from his hair. “When I lost Jesminda, I thought I would never recover from it.. The days blurred into months, the months into years of being stuck into a horrific void..”

“How did you get out?” He choked in his own tears. 

“I didn’t, not fully, and I don't think I ever will. My heart belonged to her, and a part always will, despite me loving Elain with all I have.” Lucien took another deep breath. “When I saw you and Elain together, I found myself back inside that void, sinking into it and letting it consume me.”

“I never apologised for what I did, you’re a good male, you didn’t deserve all the pain we both put you through.” Azriel turned his head to face Lucien, the male just shook his head. 

“You took care of her when I couldn't, you gave her a choice, you helped pull her out of that void. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt seeing you two, cuz it felt like my soul was being ripped away from me, I’m saying that I’m willing to look past all of this because she’s worth it, love is always worth it, and if it meant she would be happy, I would go through all of this again, even if she never chose me, just to ensure she would be happy.” 

“How would you live, knowing that you can’t have your mate?” Azriel dared to ask and Lucien seemed to think for a while. 

“I would just keep going, like I always did. And you should too, I never took you for the kind of male that would give up on life like this.” Lucien nudged him with his hand and Azriel allowed a barely there smile to appear in his face. 

“I should talk to you more often.” He snorted. “Thank you for looking out for me.” Azriel said with all the honesty he had in his heart. 

“It’s for her.” Lucien confessed and Azriel nodded. 

“Yeah, cuz she’s worth it.” He repeated and Lucien nodded. “I think I can assume from here.” Lucien nodded, getting up and leaving the bathroom to give him some time. 

“I would never allow you to sacrifice your happiness for me.” Elain said as she spotted him, her eyes filled with tears. Lucien pulled her close.

“We don’t have to think about it anymore, we’re together and that’s all that matters.” He gently kissed her temple and the female nodded, the two sitting in the window, waiting for Azriel to get out of the bathroom. 

When he did, she could swear he was a new male, freshly shaved and looking less tired, his cheeks were still hollow and he had bigger dark circles than ever, but she looked better, the talk with Lucien had really helped.

“Come eat something.” Elain gestured towards the plate in his study desk and he nodded, sitting down and eating like he hadn't done in months. 

“Thank you two, for everything.” He said, his voice muffled by the food.

“Just doing what you did for me all those months ago.” Elain winked and grabbed Lucien’s hand. “We’re going back to the River House, you don’t have to, but if you want, meet us there.” The male nodded, watching as his friends disappeared, he would go back to his life, he would learn how to live without her again. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Fenrys growled, holding an ice filled cloth to her swollen face. 

“He was fucking annoying.” She mumbled, wiping the blood on her sleeve. 

“And you had to start a fight with him?” He offered her a cloth, but she declined. 

“Asking gently didn’t work the first time, he had to learn.” She simply replied, her head throbbing, she was tired of that conversation. 

“I know you left some important people behind, but you can’t keep like this, you’re not even alive anymore.” He shouted, ever since she came back, she had stopped eating, every night she would go out, and find someone dumb enough to start a fight with her, or she would lock herself in her room, screaming as Gods knows what plagued her dreams. She never failed her duty though. Every morning she would appear impeccable, ready to do whatever she was ordered to.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She got up, face to face with him. Fenrys scoffed.

“Do you think she would be proud? Asterin would be ashamed of you.” He said, the anger getting the best of him, seeing his friend wasting her life like this. But at the sight of her defeated expression and tear filled eyes, he regretted it. “I didn’t mea…”

“FUCK YOU, FENRYS!” She yelled in his face, turning away from him and marching. She seemed to remember something, because she turned around, the fat tear streaming down her bruised face. “It wasn’t just some important friends that i left behind, i left my mate behind, maybe this means something to you.” 

Fenrys froze, mates were really precious in fae culture, for her to be here without him, having the strength to leave him behind, she was in so much pain, and he just made everything worse by throwing her biggest fear on her face, the fear of disappointing Asterin.

Y/N walked back to the castle, feeling her body numb, the pain in her chest too overwhelming to even feel the cold winds making her shiver. She marched towards her room, she opened the window, feeling the breeze messing her hair that had overgrown. 

She just wanted it all to be gone, all the pain, all the sadness, everything. She closed her eyes shut, climbing the railing of the balcony. Maybe he wouldn’t feel anything, so far away from her. The winds were stronger, like they tried to push her back to the safety of her room. She took a deep breath. 

“From now until the darkness claims us.” She breathed, feeling the air leave her lungs. That was when she allowed her body to lean forward, the sweet embrace that awaited for her and would bring her the relief she desperately wanted was all she had in mind. 

She didn't register the loud horrific roar that ripped the skies, awakening the whole castle. She just felt her body being violently pushed backwards, the air getting knocked out of her lungs as her back hit the stone wall with full force. She opened her eyes, feeling her head spin, the whole room with it as dizziness set over her. 

Someone grabbed at her, checking up on her head that bled due to the impact. She heard voices, but the consciousness slipped away from her grasp rather quickly. Until she let it claim her, pulling her into a soft embrace.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“What’s wrong, Elain?” Lucien asked as he saw the white orbs of his mate. The female shivered. 

“She tried to kill herself.” She mumbled and the whole table went still, turning towards her. Azriel felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “And she will try again.” Elain said, her voice laced with sorrow. Two more months had passed since she departed, Azriel was better, back to training and to his duties, but this had dragged him back to that void. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Rhys said, he truly was, but they couldn’t do anything.

“We need to go get her.” Nesta replied, already ready to jump through the gates to get her friend back.

“We can’t, remember that she chose to go.” He stared at the angry frown on Nesta’s face, he could feel it pouring out of her but she didn’t say anything to him, he should’ve known better than this. 

Cassian watched as everyone finished dinner, going back to their rooms and houses. He watched as Nesta prepared herself for bed, he almost laughed at her antics, she thought she was sneaky, but he knew her better than herself, so as she pretended to be asleep. He got their bags ready. 

Later that night, he heard her, slowly lifting from bed, shuffling through their things, quietly mumbling a curse, he kept pretending he was sleeping. He was quick to change into his leathers, sheathing his swords and walking to the living room, sitting in the dark, waiting for his mate. 

Nesta gasped when the lights flickered on and she spotted her mate, sitting with two bags at his feet and a big grin spreading across his face. From behind him, surprise filled her at the sight of Elain in pants, her hair braided behind her back, a bag strapped to her shoulders, flanked by both Lucien and Azriel. 

“We know you.” She had said and Nesta smiled at her family. 

“How are we getting the key?” Lucien asked, and his sister in law just closed her eyes, focusing on that call, pulling it towards her, the same way she had done with the troves. The key appeared in her hands and she grinned. 

“Like calls like.” She winked at them, strapping her bag on her shoulder before they winnowed away to Ramiel. As they opened the balcony door, to get easier to go, they spotted Rhysand. He was wearing his sleeping clothes, and was rubbing his temples.

“You’re all so predictable.” He sighed. “I’ll close my eyes for five seconds, and you all better be gone before I open them again. I don’t want to see you here, not without her.” He heard Nesta cheering, feeling the winds change around him as they all winnowed back, to get her home. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[popodoki]

SFW Catwin drabble, Edwin's first time at Pride (idc that it's July ok)

This is actually something I forgot to post outside of the Catwin Discord, till now x

∧,,,∧ (  ̳• · • ̳) /    づ♡ bday gift for bestie Alex

Chaos surrounds him. 

There’s no other way to describe the situation. It’s sheer absolute pandemonium outside, in the street, in public. London’s Pride festival is all around them, people cramming onto floats, lining up into- and creating make-shift dance floors in the middle of the street, the sheer volume of people spilling out onto the sidewalks, a kaleidoscope of noise and colours, all of them hugging each other, giggling wildly, chanting affirmations into everyone’s ears, into Edwin’s ears. 

It should be irritating, overwhelming. The incessant noise, the press of the crowd, confetti swirling in the air, the humidity lingering long into the night. Edwin should be annoyed, overstimulated and irked and downright uncomfortable. 

He’s not, though. Because for him, there is only Thomas. Nothing else, no one else, exists. 

Thomas King captures all of Edwin Payne’s attention. He’s magnetic; Edwin couldn’t possibly look away even if he wanted to, and oh, that’s the last thing he wants. 

For much of the evening, Edwin had been firmly plastered to Thomas’ side, often resting his head on his shoulder, occasionally reaching up to adjust the matching flower-crown adorning Thomas’s head, drinking sugary cocktails, hydrating water, sugary cocktails, handed to him in various dubious shaped containers, and clapping and singing along as the crowd, minus him, belted along to Lady Gaga, Chappel Roan . Various strangers had approached the pair, exchanging compliments, offering love and acceptance in spades, and as grateful as Edwin was for the positive attention, letting it slowly wipe away at old doubts like a stain, so much more grateful he was for the way Thomas still did most of the talking, and held him closer. 

He hadn’t minded Thomas’s possessive grip on his waist, hadn’t minded one bit. There’s something simply intoxicating about being in Thomas’s arms, where other people can see them. Something that settles warm in Edwin’s chest. It strikes him, that he is immeasurably lucky, having this man, this man made of the light of the sun’s rays, choose to be with him, with him, every day. It quiets that tiny part of his mind, which speaks far less often now than it had in their early days together, that wonders what is someone like him doing with someone like me? 

At some point in the day, Thomas had acquired a violently pink feather boa from somewhere, draped it across his shoulders, occasionally he waves the ends of it when he spots someone he knows in the crowd. Whenever his eyes meet Edwin’s, he winks, flicks the end of the boa his way, with a saucy swing of his hips into Edwin’s, and it’s almost enough to entice Edwin into kissing him, pressing crowd be damned, kissing him full and deep, pulling his lover back against him, turning a quick heated moment into something more, so much slower, into something sensual, something sinuous, something so supremely seductive it would be entirely inappropriate even for a festival full of loving revelry. 

But oh, how Edwin wants. 

The boa is long enough to drape across Edwin’s shoulders as well, and he takes advantage of the fact that his lover’s wearing platforms, meaning that they’re currently of a height to do so. It draws them close, draws them together, and when Thomas looks over with a smile reserved just for him, Edwin can almost count every single one of his eyelashes, every single speck of glitter on his cheekbones, sparkling in the starlight. 

Thomas fully turns to him, his smile soft, sweet, and it’s on the tip of Edwin’s tongue to say that, to say your smile is incandescent, you shine oh so very brightly, I was wandering in the dark before you but you, you guide me home, you are my home, but the words tangle up, they overwhelm him, they’re too much. So, he leans in and whispers I love you, because he can do that now, he can say those words, and say them easily, and Thomas kisses him, is still kissing him when the majority of the crowd has moved on. 

“So, Edwin,” he says, voice lilting out between them like a soft purr, the way it gets sometimes when there’s nothing in the universe but them. “Your first Pride. Do you have a review?” 

Not for the first time, in Thomas’ company, does Edwin have trouble finding the words to express how he feels. Much like the first time, his lover reads his feelings in his eyes just as well. 

“Are we coming back next year?” 

Edwin smiles. “I think I’d like that.”  

[cranberrymoons]

ghosts of christmas future

prompt: time travel (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 999 rated: m tags/cw: canon-typical violence, s3 torture (not described in detail), confusion related to time travel... see ao3 end notes if you'd like a more detailed content warning! THAT SAID, this is also fluffy lol

welcome to Day 15 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

When Steve wakes up, he’s not where he was when he fell asleep.

There are other issues: the crick in his neck, the need to pee, the weird stiffness in his shoulder that he hasn’t felt since the last time he got his ass kicked, but the main thing is – he’s not where he was when he fell asleep.

Or actually… did he fall asleep? He has a vague flash of something: hands in his hair, lights, words– not nice ones– knocked out and then–

He sits up slowly, blinking bleary eyes as he looks around the room. 

If he’s been kidnapped, the kidnappers don’t seem overly worried about keeping him here: it’s light and airy, sun streaming in through the window, which is cracked open an inch even though he can see a thin blanket of snow on what is definitely not a street in Hawkins, judging by the number of cars parked outside, the people bustling by in their parkas, the drift of noise coming in from outside.

It’s… July. Or at least, it was.

There’s a whisper of music coming from the other side of the bedroom door, and he feels his heart kick up an anxious rhythm in his chest as he stares. Maybe if he just…

Ah. He’s naked. So that’s a second problem. 

The kidnapper has apparently stripped him down and put him in this very comfortable bed and then… left him free to escape? 

Okay.

He climbs out of bed gingerly, wincing a little at the pull in his lower back. It doesn’t feel like an actual injury, not like the ones he’s had before. It’s older, more lived in, like something his body is used to dealing with and shifts to accommodate as he makes his way into the bathroom.

But he knows it's not an old injury, because if it was something he’s been dealing with for a while, he’s pretty sure he’d remember it. He wonders vaguely why everything is so blurry, and then again why everything is so clean. 

Even though he can’t actually remember falling asleep, he knows it definitely wasn’t like this when he did. It was harsher; there was… pain? Maybe? He was scared. He remembers being scared.

He glances up into the mirror hanging over the unfamiliar sink and catches sight of his reflection, then he sucks in a surprised breath. 

His hand comes up to cover the wound that’s wrapped around his throat, and is that what the kidnappers did to him? Is that – but there’s no pain there when he presses his fingers against it; it’s old and worn in, just like the thing in his back. It’s a scar, something that looks like it’s been there for years and years, but that can’t be possible because…

“What?” he says out loud to his reflection.

He feels his brain click and turn over as he tries to make sense of it, and that’s when his eyes travel up to his face, hair a little longer, the hint of lines around his eyes. The… wedding band? on his finger? 

“What,” he says again, because honestly– what?

---

The path out of the bedroom is a simple one: a door, then presumably a hallway, then maybe some stairs. 

Steve knows this. 

What he does not know is who might be on the other side. 

Another person, apparently. Someone listening to music quiet enough not to wake him but loud enough to be heard over the rushing in his ears as he digs through what he guesses must be his dresser, since it’s all men’s clothes, even if it’s not the kind of clothes he would normally ever be caught dead in: shirts for some band he’s never heard of, a stack of ripped jeans.

At least there’s one thing that looks familiar: an old Hawkins High swim team hoodie with Harrington printed across the back in cracked, faded letters. It’s bizarre holding it in his hand like this, old and worn in. He only got this thing a couple months ago, but now –

That settles it; somehow, impossibly, he’s woken up in the future, or is at least having a very vivid dream/nightmare/hallucination.

He tugs the hoodie over his head and digs out a pair of sweatpants, runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath as he prepares to apparently go meet his… wife? 

That’s fucking weird. It’s the future, and he has a wife.

Maybe it’s Nancy. Maybe they’ll work things out and make it right, and this is his brain flashing him forward to give him a little flicker of hope. 

Or maybe it’s Robin, that girl from work who’s always giving him a hard time. She was there, he thinks, when he fell asleep. Maybe he’s– 

But that’s not who he finds in the kitchen.

“Morning, baby.” Thrown casually over his shoulder from where he’s elbow deep in dish water, hips swaying to the beat of a Christmas song drifting out of the radio. “Did I wake you up? Sorry, wanted to get a head start on –”

But Steve, heart pounding, mouth dry–

“Eddie Munson?”

Eddie – because it is him, inexplicably– throws him a weird look.

“Stevie Harrington,” he says in a mock-serious voice. Then his face softens into a smile. “Look at you, all comfy this morning. Did you raid my drawers?”

“Um.” Steve frowns. Stevie? He looks down at himself. “This is mine.”

“Just because it has your name on it.”

He rolls his eyes as he reaches for Steve and wraps a warm, dish-soapy hand around his wrist to tug him in, and Steve stumbles forward, more dazed than anything. Eddie leans in, brushes a kiss over his mouth, casual as anything, and Steve –

“Wake up.”

Smack to the face. 

Harsh lights. 

Bare walls. 

A man with a thick Russian accent looming over him, and his fucking head feeling like it’s been split in two.

“You will talk now.”

[also on ao3]

[98onlyboo]

mine now - h.js

>> part 2 of: regret - l.jh

genre: fluff; wc: 1,2k

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

..Jihoon watched you drive off, already knowing this will be the biggest regret of his whole life.

-

It's been quite alot of time now since you last saw Jihoon. You've been avoiding him at all cost, trying not to hurt more than you already are. Ever since Joshua picked you up, he was there for you 24/7. He helped you move out of your shared apartment with Jihoon and let you live in his for a while.

Every now and then you had days were everything was just too much. You always thought it's your fault that you got cheated on. I mean, if there wasn't something wrong with you he wouldn't have cheated right? That's what you thought at least.

You thought you were doing better when all of a sudden, everyday felt like a burden. You just wanted to rot in bed, having no motivation to do anything. Sometimes you didn't even want to wake up. Joshua tried his best to comfort you, but you could sense that after some time it was too much for him too.

You felt even worse now, knowing you're the reason he feels that way. You decided to show him how grateful you were to have him, even though words couldn't be enough to describe it. As people say, actions speak louder than words so that's exactly what you planned to do.

After you got home from work you started deep cleaning his apartment, knowing by the time he got home from practicing with seventeen he would be too tired to do it himself. Also it was a really good distraction so you didn't mind. After you were done with that, you went out restocking his fridge and also buying some things you were going to cook for him later.

That done, you also got him a little gift. A teddy bear holding a heart and some candy he liked. On the way home you noticed a familiar car in the street just passing by Joshua's apartment complex every now and then. Weird you thought, looks exactly like Jihoons'...

When you got home you unpacked the groceries and started cooking, forgetting about the car. Joshua should be home in around an hour from now so I better get started. You started preparing a five-star meal, just like he deserved. As if he could sense it, he entered the apartment the moment you took the food out of the oven.

You ran up to the door to hug him and obviously he hugged you back, burying his head in your hair, taking in your sweet scent. "I have something for you" you grinned at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Should I be scared..?" he chuckled. "No silly", you laughed and flicked his forehead, "it's something good I'd say." He just nodded and followed you into the kitchen.

"What's that?" he said as he looked at the food. "I made it just for you. I hope you're hungry" you smiled at him. "I sure am" he laughed and sat down at the dining table. You gave him a plate and he ate it like he hasn't seen any food in a year. You just smiled at how cute he is. Wait a minute...

"So how was work?" you asked him, trying to shake off these thoughts. "It was great!! We practiced some of the new choreos and recorded some stuff. Only weird thing is Jihoon wasn't there.." he said while finishing his food. "That's good" you smiled him, remembering the car you saw earlier. "Actually, you said he wasn't with you guys today?" you asked to which he just nodded.

"Weird. I saw a car today driving around the building a few times and to be honest, it looked a lot like you know...Jihoons car" you said looking out the window. "That is indeed weird. But I don't think we should think too much of it. Let's just relax tonight" he said and hugged you from behind.

You didn't know what to do so you just stayed there until he left to go to the living room. "Did you clean in here??" he shouted. "Uh yeah I did, I cleaned the whole apartment for you" you shouted back. You went into the living room and sat down on the couch next to Joshua.

He put an arm around you and pulled you close. "Thank you" he said while giving you a quick peck on your head. "No, I need to thank you. You have been there for me through everything that has happened recently. You always made sure I'm somewhat happy, no matter how tired or stressed you were. You literally let me live here with you, without you I would be homeless. I don't think I've shown you enough appreciation so that's why I cleaned and cooked for you. I know it's not much but I figured it's the least I could do. I wish I could tell you how grateful I am to have you by my side but I just can't put it into words." you said, your eyes starting to water.

He was speechless to say the least. "I-uh I-" he stuttered. "I don't even know what to say right now" he whispered. "Don't worry you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that" you smiled at him. There was silence between you two, only the tv delivering some background noise. Then it happened.

Your faces slowly moving towards each other. The tension grew with every passing second and before you knew it, you felt his lips on yours. It felt magical. All your thoughts, your pain and your sorrows were blown away the second your lips touched. It was like the world stopped spinning. Like everything stood still.

His hands found their way to the side of your face pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. Yours made their way into his hair, occasionally playing with some strands. After what felt like an eternity, you pulled apart. Out of breath and cheeks flushed bright pink. "Wow.." he whispered, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do this."

You grinned at him, pulling him close. You guys continued watching whatever tv show was playing until you both got tired. You got ready for bed and were ready to go to sleep when Joshua asked you something.

"Can I ask you something?" "Sure what is it?" you said turning towards him. "What are we after this? Like, what did that earlier mean to you?" You were taken aback by that question. You didn't really know how to react at first.

"You know.. I really enjoyed that kiss, and your presence in general. I could get used to living with you. Not just as your roommate but you know.. maybe more than that" you said and scooted closer to him.

"Well lucky for you I don't feel any different. I like having you around and... I definitely don't mind kissing you more often..." he whispered that last part before pulling you in again. "You're mine now.."

[icallhimjoey]

tubelift!joe was a sweetheart & reallllly wanted to find out what happened after they went separate ways !!!

jfc it's been a whole YEAR since tubelift!joe, thats insane! but here you go, have some of him! its only short, but hope you enjoy! (a/n: this story will make little sense if you've not read between floors and feelings) Wordcount: 1.8K

---

Funny Story, Actually

It had been ages, but you could still sense it every time. When you'd get onto the tube together, Joe's shoulders would tense as he'd look around the car, scanning his worried eyes over every single person there.

It was just to check. Just to settle something inside of him that was a little impossible to settle, you thought.

You remembered being one of those people, but witnessing it now, knowing what you knew, traveling through peak hours with him was hell.

You noticed how his knuckles lost all colour as he tightly held on to a handrail overhead, his lips all tight, his jaw clenched.

He looked hot.

But that wasn't the point.

"Hey," you poked Joe softly in the side to get his attention. "Did you say you had been to this place before?"

You knew he had been, but it was an easy way of distracting him from trying to make eye-contact with everyone, which he only did just in case he could see something there to worry about.

It literally helped no one, you knew.

"Oh, yea. Couple of times. You know how there's places that exceed your expectations every time you go? Very rare, that. This is one of those."

You smiled. He'd told you the exact same thing about four times, using a different way to describe how much he loved this restaurant each time.

You'd happily listen to him tell you again and again.

"Yea? What did you have last time?" you asked, softly, because not many others needed to hear you ask, or hear Joe's answer for that matter. To be fair, you didn't even need to hear it. You just needed Joe to step out of his tube-anxiety. It was only one more stop.

"Um, I had..." Joe narrowed his eyes for a second, thinking. And then, before he even remembered, he realised what you were doing. He let his breath escape him in a chuckled sigh and reached for your hand. Gave the tube car a last glance before fully turning towards you and giving you a silly face.

"You're a menace."

You scrunched your nose at him, knowing glances shared.

Joe kept hold of your hand when you got off the tube and made your way towards street level. When you were lead into a corridor of which the dead end just held the stainless steal doors to two lifts, you gave each other a look before turning around and finding another way out.

Absolutely no way you were risking it.

Ever since that one night, neither of you had ever stepped foot inside of a tube lift again.

You'd rather race each other up the Covent Garden tube station steps, all 193 of them, than get into a small confined metal box like that again.

Even after the one you'd been stuck in had been fixed.

Even when you were in a group and your friends would go for the lift.

You'd go, "Loser gets the bill tonight!" and set off running up the steps, hoping you'd beat the elevator. You rarely did. And even after a while, it got easier, but it would still leave you out of breath. Still, getting a little exercise would forever win it over having to pee into a water bottle, so it was fine.

You'd take the stairs.

You easily found escalators that time, and you both went to stand on the right to let the system take you up. You turned around and let Joe curl his arms around your waist for a moment, tilting his head back and smiling up at you. It made you swipe at some worry lines that were permanently etched into Joe's forehead whenever you were underground before leaning down to give him a small kiss.

You beamed big smiles at each other, and you weren't sure what prompted you to join the crowd on the left side of the escalator, but you were quick as a flash as you stepped to the side and started bolting your way up the moving steps.

Joe followed just behind you, and you laughed as you felt him try to hold onto your coat in an attempt to keep up.

Happy.

There was just something about knowing you'd make it up and out without getting trapped for hours, you know?

After you touched-out, Joe turned to you slightly out of breath and said, "Maybe we need to start using car service to go places, because–"

"And give into the fear?" you scoffed. "Come on," you held up an arm and humorously flexed a non-existent bicep. "We're stronger than that!"

And you truly believed that, but you felt every single bit of strength leave your body when you got shoulder-checked hard enough to slam the air right from your lungs.

"Ahh," you immediately winced, spinning on your feet from the clash. Joe's hands were quick to find you, steadying you and preventing you from stumbling and falling.

"Sorry, so sor–..." a throat got cleared. "Sorry..."

The woman who had just roughly knocked half her body into yours looked down at her feet as she slung her bag back onto her shoulder, and, oh, my God, you couldn't fucking believe it.

"Linda."

Your former boss.

You sounded more surprised than anything else, because this was something you had dreaded for a while. Running into her. You'd heard that your ex-boyfriend had gone and moved in with her after he'd moved out of the studio you had shared, but that it had only lasted for a couple of weeks.

Served her right, you thought.

"Oh my God. Hi, I'm– sorry. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you?" Linda let a polite hand hover in front of your shoulder - the one you were still holding onto yourself - and gave a regretful smile.

Linda did hurt you.

A little now, but a lot before.

You know, back when you found your boyfriend making out with her in her office and you learnt from you colleagues that the affair had actually been happening for a while but they'd been too afraid to tell you because she was their boss too.

Vile wench of a woman.

You'd gotten your revenge though.

You still weren't proud of it, but... if you could do that night over again, the only thing you would change is that you would make sure you'd actually empty your full bladder into her bag that time.

You gave her a blank stare and then let your eyes drop to her bag.

Holy shit.

There was no way.

"I'm fine." you said coldly, but kept your eyes on her bag.

She saw, and it made her shuffle a little awkwardly

"Good. Okay, good. Sorry. I'm in a rush. We should catch up, soon. Sorry, again." Linda finished her sentence as she ran off, and you stared at her as she tapped-in with her phone and then disappeared down an escalator.

Huh.

Wow.

You felt weirdly okay about all of that, unexpectedly so.

You were definitely not going to be catching up with her soon, though.

When you turned to Joe, he gave you a worried little smile.

"There you are."

"Huh?"

"I asked you a question. Are you okay?"

You blinked up at him and realised you were stood in the middle of a busy bit of tube station. It was the exact wrong place to stand still, so you were quick to move with the crowd. Joe followed, hand on the small of your back.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, sorry. Um. That was Linda. She used to be my boss." you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. "Remember my boss? How I caught–"

"I do." Joe cut you off, no need to repeat the painful story. He had remembered it fine from when you'd first told him, dirty wedding dress and crackling intercom as the background noise and all.

But tonight wasn't about awful memories.

You were about to have dinner with some of his friends - ones you'd met just once in brief passing but had never had a proper conversation with, and Joe was excited. You were going to love them, and he was sure that they were also going to love you.

"Wow... that was... that was weird. She fully crashed into me."

"Yea it was quite the collision, you nearly fell over."

"I'm okay." you assured him you were fine. The clash of shoulders had only hurt for a second.

Joe reached to hold your hand and threw you a warm smile as you made your way down the pavement.

"That's good."

"I think..." you started, eyes narrowing as you tried to remember. "I'm not joking, but I think she was carrying the bag that I... you know."

Joe's eyes bulged at you as his smile grew.

"What?! No way."

"That was the bag." You knew for sure. Kind of hard to forget the bag that you squatted over to piss right into. "I hope she got that professionally cleaned though, why the fuck would she even– wait, why did she keep that?"

Joe laughed at your outrage. He agreed though.

"Maybe she never noticed." he reasoned as you reached the restaurant. His reasoning made you frown at him though because, "Joe, I pissed over everything she had in there, there is no way she didn't–"

"All right, all right, keep it down, will you? This is a nice place." Joe laughed, helping you out of your coat as the host asked if you had a reservation.

Linda.

You couldn't quite get over how weird it was to be running into her in the tube with Joe there. It was almost kind of funny.

It felt like a weird full-circle moment, especially because you knew that whatever she had taken from you hadn't worked out for her in the end. Lost out on a star-employee (you) and on a mediocre boyfriend (your ex).

Maybe the bag was a good reminder for her.

Maybe it kept her grounded.

You had no idea.

The loud greetings from Joe's friends who were already there snapped you out of your thoughts. The restaurant was nice, and Joe's friends were lovely. It was nice to get to know Joe better through other people, but you kind of forgot that you were also a whole new person for others to meet. A person to ask questions about.

You weren't sure why you hadn't anticipated anyone asking the most obvious question you could be asked, but it nearly made Joe choke on his first sip of his drink.

"So, how did you two meet again?"

Joe looked at you over the table after making sure he didn't have any wine dripping down his chin, pursing a smile before giving you a tiny nod.

Joe's friends looked between the two of you, confused eyes darting back and forth because clearly they were missing an inside joke, or whatever.

Before anyone could ask, you cleared your throat and said, "Funny story, actually..."

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[dracox-serdriel]

OMitB Season 4 Theories

Spoilers for all episods of Only Murders in the Building Season 4 up to episode 6. (If you want to skip it, please strike the 'J' key to jump past this post.)

Sazz knew about another murder in the building (likely the "sensitive topic" she meant to discuss with Charles at the end of Season 3) and possibly also knew about the cameras hidden in Oliver's and Charle's apartments.

Obviously, someone else knew Sazz knew about the murder and that she planned to spill the beans to "the podcasters"

The spy cameras must've been placed sometime before the start of Season 4 (how else would the killer know that it was safe to enter Charles' apartment to get Sazz's body?)

My theory is that the cameras were somehow placed by Marshall Pope or someone helping him spy. (Mostly because of his stage direction -- he describes Oliver as "flitting around" -- not something that would be obvious actions given the OmitB trio are podcasters who rely way too much on hidden cameras -- so more sound than video.)

When did Dudenoff die?

In theory, he could've died before Tim Kono.

The Brother/Sisters said that Dudenoff cut off all contact with them three years ago. (To the best of my knowledge, they are the only ones who gave a firm time about when they last spoke to Dudenoff.)

The "old incinerator" is banned because it causees a very noticable power surger in the entire building whenever it's used. Andn, according to Oliver & Charles, that kind of power surge hasn't happened in a while (since the old incinerator was banned).

It's possible Dudenoff died three years ago. His body could've been stored in any number of secret corners of the Arconia - though my guess is that he was hidden in the bricked up walls that cut the West Tower off from the rest of the Arconia.

Dudenoff's death predating Tim Kono's has a number of thematic components/call backs:

In episode 1x01, Charles' opening monologue: "Here's a thing I don't get. People who worry about living in a big city because of all the crime. As any true crime aficionado will tell you, it's the boondocks you need to worry about. I mean, let's face it. Nobody ever discovered 19 bodies buried in the backyard of a 14-story apartment building."

In episode 2x03, Oliver says: "Bunny and I, we're lifers. She's probably gonna be buried in the Arconia. And on hot days, the whole building will be able to smell you."

It makes sense that the killer would want to burn the body after someone cotton onto Dudenoff being dead.

My theory right now is that Dudenoff wasn't murdered. The illegal sublets are all under his name; his death would nix the rent control entirely - so all of the Westies with illegal sublets have cause to cover up his death. So his death could've been accidental or natural, and plenty of people still had tons of reason to cover it up. Not to mention there's someone is cashing Dudenoff's checks on 125th street - that could be part of the cover up or it's just another reason to keep his death a secret.

It would be easy for Sazz or literally any outsider to see evidence of the coverup (and maybe even the body itself) and conclude - well of course this was a murder! Especially if they didn't know about the illegal sublet thing going on.

Missing Pieces

The student film, "The Desecration of Alice", almost certainly had another actor from Dudenoff's classes -- a woman, the person who played Alice. I'm guessing that this is Rudy's ex-girlfriend, Helga -- the one who abandoned Hammy Faye Baker (the pig) in the Dudenoff's studio apartment.

What's with the Ham Radios? Seems like a way someone keeps in contact while staying off the grid.

Who is cashing Dudenoff's social security checks? I have zero reason behind it, but I truly think it's Lester the Doorman. He's been doing it as a favor, cashing the checks, then dropping the cash off to someone, per Dudenoff's request. Again, zero reason for me to suspect this. Just thinking.

Or... is Dedenoff actually dead?

Dudenoff has allowed people to illegally sublet from him for decades. Would it be so wild for him to have allowed someone he cared about to use his health insurance coverage to replace a shoulder? That could easily explain how the serial number traced back to him -- without him actually being dead.

This would also explain the Ham Radios.

Who is the killer?

Not enough information about who is the killer/shooter of Sazz, but people I'm keeping an eye on:

Bev Melon - the producer

Marshal Pope - the writer

Helga

Ana - Inez and Alfonso's daughter

Rudy aka Christmas-all-the-time-guy - easily the most atheltic of the Westies, could almost certainly handle the ubertight window of he shooter + the cleaner

Scott Bakula - ok, not really, but why not? Super sus how he turned up in 4x01 and was like, "Ho-hum, TOTALLY not like Sazz, right?!"

Sazz's Agent - unnamed character, see next section

Why Sazz?

Sazz has a ton of connections - she's the reason Charles had friends when he worked on Brazzos. Most people at the stunt bar seemed to know her fairly well. She is clearly far more competent at keeping interpersonal connections (especially those critical for her job) than most of the other characters in OMit-B.

The relationship Sazz was keen on quitting (she gave more than she got) -- I know Charles thinks it was himself -- but I don't think so. I think the person Sazz was keen on quitting was actually her agent. This is a character we've only heard about in passing, with Sazz talking to them on the phone -- but it makes a lot more sense than it being Charles.

The Theory of Season 4

While there's no real limits to the question "Who has access to Charles and Oliver's apartments?" Because of all the secret passage ways and stuff... but my theory is that Sazz's agent is in complete cahoots with Bev Melon (the producer) and leverage Sazz to plan cameras in Oliver's and Charles' apartments, among other things, to help Marshal (the film writer) and Bev get a full jump on the OMit-B.

Oliver is 100% right to be surprised at how far along the project is when they go out ot California in 4x01. That didn't happen by accident. This production had a crapton of inside sources to draw from to get it to where it is.

If Sazz's agent used blackmail or even just basic power pressure to get Sazz to participate in this kind of spycraft, then I could easily see how Sazz would want to get out from under that thumb.

At least, that would explain why Sazz is suddenly pushing to retire, even though there was a recent reboot of Brazzos giving her plenty of work (even if the show is on hiatus ATM).

[elficially-done-with-life]

A Quiet Afternoon

Pairing: Celegorm x reader

Summary: You think about Celegorm's return and you marriage to him while you spend a quiet afternoon together.

A/N: Since Celegorm is married to the Reader in here he did not try to get Luthien to marry him (since elves can only marry and fall in love once, Finwë was from what I understood the only exception), he still betrayed her trust and kidnapped her, though. Just for understanding and context.

Hope you enjoy it!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tyelkormo's head layed in your lap and he breathed in and out calmly. The sun fell on his silver-coloured hair and made it shine.

It had been so incredibly long since you had seen him so relaxed. The last time had certainly been before he had left for Middle-earth with his father and brothers. Back then, when your beloved had been torn away from you.

When Tyelko had come back, he hadn't wanted to talk to you because he had been so incredibly ashamed of his actions and regretted them that he was convinced you wouldn't want him back.

You had been angry. You had been angry for many years, but over time it had diminished, because through the marriage bond you two had, you could feel his longing for you and his growing despair. You could feel his mental state getting worse and worse and how some days he woke up disorientated, not knowing what to do with himself.

Of course you didn't forgive him for abandoning you or for all the atrocities he had committed in Middle-earth. All the kinslayings, the kidnapping of Luthien and so much more. He had to bear responsibility for it all, and yet you still loved him.

You had lost all contact with him through the marrige bond when he died. You went to Nerdanel that same day and you cried together until the early hours of the morning.

That's why you knew exactly when Tyelko had returned. Suddenly you felt his presence, clearer and closer than you had in a long time. His fëa no longer seemed so broken, but as if someone had tried to mend it. But it was still not healed and whole and you doubted that it ever would be again. To much had happend.

You didn't hear from him for weeks until you bumped into him on the street. He had been looking at some flowers by the side of the road, completely lost in thought, and only noticed your presence when you had already seen him. He later told you that these flowers didn't exist in Middle-earth and that he was really shocked to see them again. That it had reminded him of so many things that once had been.

That day, without giving it a second thought, you had wrapped your arms around Tyelkormo's neck and held him tightly.

Somehow you had expected him to laugh and playfully say: "Did you miss me?" At least he would have done that back when everything had been okay.

But he had started to cry.

He had apologised to you, got down on his knees in front of you and told you not to hate him, even if you would want to go your separate ways from now on. You had felt through the marriage bond that he didn't think he would survive if he knew you hated him.

So you had also got down on your knees and stroked his cheeks softly. Feeling his skin on yours again had been a feeling so great you weren't able to describe it. Tyelko had practically leaned into your touch, which made you wonder how long it had been since anyone had touched him with so much love.

That same day he had moved back in with you, but it was different than it had been before.

Normally Tyelko slept like a rock at home (not in the forest, there he was always on high alert) but he woke up several times a night from his nightmares, shivering all over and seeking your warmth. He often whispered something like: "I let them die." Or "Luthien trusted me... I betrayed her trust." Or he would cry for Curufin and Carnistir.

He was still up before you every morning.

Every day he gave you a flower and did as much as he could around the house until you woke up.

He was also, and you couldn't think of a better word for it, shy.

Actually, Tyelko had always had a certain self-confidence, even if he had always hidden some insecurities underneath, which he had revealed to you at some point. But now he always avoided your gaze when you looked him straight in the eye. He was also much quieter than usual and apologised more often.

When you slept with each other, he always started crying. The first time you panicked, but he later confessed that that was because he is so overwhelmed that you really want him still and to feel your body and fëa so close again. To know that you still want to give him love.

Today you had walked through a wooded area behind your house to a small hill with lots of wildflowers and some large willows. You had loved going here back then a lot.

Last night, Tyelko's nightmares had become particularly bad. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink the whole night after and was quite emotionally exhausted.

His fingers had been trembling with fatigue all day, which was why he had accidentally dropped a glass. At first you thought everything was fine, but half an hour later you found him crying quietly in the garden. He had felt so confused again, as if he didn't know what to do with his sadness.

So you had taken his hand and you had come here.

And now he was lying asleep on your lap as you gently stroked his hair.

He let out a soft whimper and you had to stifle a giggle. Tyelko had opened his eyes briefly and looked directly into the sun. At that moment, he made an expression that you had often seen on him in the years back then.

And then you knew that no matter what happened, he was your Tyelkormo and you would find a way to help him heal as much as possible.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 4 thoughts

here we are!!! i actually turned off auto caps on my phone for this; that’s how serious this blog is getting. don't worry, i'll probably remember to turn it back on before i send an important email.

i haven’t seen an ep in a few days and i feel like it has been 80 years. the last episode wasn’t the greatest, so our time apart feels even longer.

this episode is about a guy named clyde. clyde bruckman is a hell of a name. i’m expecting a real cowboy. a guy who knows his way around a horse. he probably spits chew in a certain fashion. we shall see if i’m correct.

(editor's note: op found that clyde was not a cowboy, but something just as special... a friend <3)

we open with a man reading a magazine article on predictions, written by a celebrity psychic. we later learn that this fellow doing the reading is, in fact, clyde bruckman. and elvis being dead but buddy holly being alive has got to be one of the greatest theories i’ve ever heard. i WILL incorporate this into my belief system.

allegedly, buddy holly is going to open at a big music festival. and this is how i learn that lollapalooza was a thing even before chappell roan visited... but we all know that when she steps on that stage in a few short weeks it will blow anything secretly alive buddy holly could have cooked up in his wildest dreams. "the night the music died" <- crazy thing to say about a time before miss roan was even born. anyway...

bruckman ran into someone in the street. feels like a chekov’s gun moment but who knows.

hint: it was!

now the clumsy man is at the psychic. and he says he saw his own future and he seem himself doing things that are “out of character”. now that's suspicious~

OH??? clumsy man just killed the fortune teller and says she should have seen this coming. HUH???? clumsy murder man needs to be punished …our psychics deserve federal protection. 

we are at the scene of a murder. a different murder, because this one did NOT take place in the psychic's room. “they say the eyes capture the last thing a murder victim sees” “so what do they say about the entrails?” “yuck” LMAO i giggled a little….

they’re talking about some guy in vague terms, that he’s “unorthodox” and “a kook”, and then mulder walks in and it looks like they’re talking about him but the investigator says “who the hell are you” HAHAHA that got me as well

so the murderer left behind the eyeballs and scully says that they made a profile for the killer and i’m thinking yaaaaay they worked together <3 i love that spooky mulder, the well-established profiling expert, is willing to collaborate. but with her only.

and also the house is filled with porcelain dolls 

mulder knowing the professional name for the people who read tea leaves… unfortunately i love him so bad.

THEN the real star of the show rolls up. it’s the psychic from the cover of the magazine we saw clyde reading earlier. CROWDED w paparazzi. he's got a vague european accent going on here. hold up is that jon favreau in the background. i received no clarification on if that was him or not.

psychic is describing a guy who could be literally anyone “white man with facial hair… or not” “tattoo somewhere on his body” wow king of specifics. it's like he's in the room with us. /s

the agents are watching him do this and share a glance and i want it on a poster it’s sooo cute <3

celebrity psychic says he lost the vision from negative energy and then gets right up in the agent’s faces. they handle it pretty well, all things considered. because i would be telling him to back tf up. 

he asks mulder to LEAVE!!!! he has been diagnosed with negative energy. she leans in and says “i can’t take you anywhere” LMAOOOO so he stands outside and then the psychic says that skeptics like mulder make him sick. yeah i laughed!!! so what!

description of our guy: “white male, 17-34, with or without a beard, maybe a tattoo, who is impotent” <- wow.

back to the clyde cam. he's selling insurance. telling some guy that he is going to die in a car crash. well this is an effective life insurance sales policy. or not, because he doesn’t close the deal!! sure would have worked on me.

back home, he takes out some moldy cabbage that looks like a guy’s head into the trash. takes out his neighbor’s trash as well, and sees a vision of the dog eating her remains. (sabrina brier voice) oh!!!

(wait i just realized i reference that video all the time and have never cited my sources. if you are unfamiliar with the legendary "oh!" moment please click here)

back to the plot at hand.

clyde asks if his neighbor has enough dog food. thoughtful man. BUT he sees a body in the trash!

this episode is making me giggle <- don't remember what prompted that note but it was true.

clyde, who reported the murder, says that he knew the eyes were cut out, but she was found face down... so. how do you know that. site your sources. “well it just figures”, he says, and it absolutely, and i cannot emphasize this enough, does not

they bring him to… a murder scene. dun dun dun!

he thinks they're pranking him and asks to see their identification again (sees mulder’s badge) “i’m supposed to believe that’s a real name?” yeah get him again for me.

he sees blood at the crime scene and throws up which... yeah. that’s pretty messed up. he emerges from throwing up and starts saying and doing the same things as the earlier psychic. but then he starts getting... a bit more specific. allegedly, the woman was having sex with the killer before she met her end.

“well then, what’s wrong?” “sometimes, it just seems that everyone’s having sex except for me” LMAOOOOOOOOO clyde you are too real

scully looks soooo confused and i love it

all of a sudden, he sees one of the many dolls as a bloated corpse head, and announces where they’ll find the body then… hands the doll to mulder. which is not the first time we have seen him holding a doll. it is an interesting visual. what are they trying to tell us??

scully isn’t buying it. why does clyde know all this stuff? “i don’t believe he’s the killer”, says mulder, and she responds with, “i don’t believe he’s psychic” yeah that’s the dynamic i love. and she is sooooo pretty. 

mulder goes to the dude’s house and he knows exactly what is going on. but then clyde seems shocked it's him so we are getting mixed messages here.

he asks mulder if he wants to know how he’s going to die, and mulder says yes after stuttering a little and i’m like WOAH where is this going… but clyde responds with “no you don’t”, which, okay yeah, i don’t think i could handle that either

(he goes on to try and sell mulder insurance)

clyde says the future is inevitable. or if he does get involved… what if there is the whole butterfly effect thing? and then he immediately agrees to going along with the investigation. king of not having an answer. the indecisive representation we deserve.

mulder you’re so pretttttyy... look at him watching clyde touch some brass frogs and base conclusions off of them.

scully arrived at the door as mulder has his head FLAT ON THE TABLE lmaoooo 

so, it appears that clyde can ONLY tell how people are going to die. nothing else. now is that useful to this investigation? it's arguable. maybe they can find an angle.

clyde says that the scrap of fabric he’s holding comes from mulder’s new york knick’s t shirt (which was a thing that happened in 1x13 when he was testing that other psychic!!!! ohhhh i remember! do not think i forgot!! and i was confused as to why he would have a knick’s shirt if he was from new england... perhaps he knows no loyalty to geography when it comes to sport)

but mulder denies that it is his shirt anyway, so.

they found keychains on the bodies, and clyde is going on about all the personal information of whoever owned said keychains. it turns out he just sold the guy an insurance policy a few months ago lmaooo... but he knows he was murdered! the death power strikes again.

scully is driving. clyde is in the passenger seat. mulder is sticking his head in between them, asking how he receives his psychic transmissions. it's funny. he wants to know how being a psychic works! so is it like, visions, or dreams or something?

he then implies that mulder will die by autoerotic asphyxiation <- HELLO????? he looks at scully after receiving this news. as if she can possibly defend him against such an accusation.

they’re in the forest looking for a body and clyde explains he knew “the big bopper” was going to die.

scully says she doesn’t believe in that stuff, and even if she did, she wouldn’t believe that story. damn, just really going for his throat, huh. he seems to believe her indignation is over the fact that he liked the big bopper better than buddy holly and he defends himself.

they try to get the car out and mulder’s suit gets all dirty (this is sad to me, a mulder suit enjoyer) but gasp!!! the car is RIGHT OVER THE BODY. that has to be bad for finding evidence. so he did know exactly where it was!!!!

they have a thread from the scene, and have presented it to clyde. “but don’t you have crime labs that analyze these things for you?” he asks scully “yes. yes we do” (pointed glare at mulder) LMAOOOO but he says it takes time!!! and they still haven't analyzed the other thread. so please please please just give your powers a go.

he doesn’t want to help out, but mulder says he wants some insurance. on the fiber, not actual life insurance :( clyde was so excited to tell him the benefits of general mutual!!!

clyde is describing mulder being stalked by the killer sometime in the future, and all of a sudden scully’s up and asking him for more details like she believes it. awww. it’s sweet in a way. does she believe in psychics? no. is she still gonna take detailed notes when one says mulder is in any slight danger? yeah. and don't worry about that seeming to contradict her belief system. she is complicated beyond simple characterizations of skeptic or believer.

he seems to think that the killer will slit mulder’s throat at the investigation, but he doesn’t want to tell him. he DOES tell him that he will step on a pie before whatever happens to him, happens to him.

thank you to the subtitles for clarifying that clyde was imitating johnny carson because they reference would have been lost on me. i know, i’m uncultured, i’m sorry. i’ll google it though. okay, as i thought, he was a late night host. see? we get an exchange of knowledge on this blog, i learn about johnny carson's way of pronouncing the word "killer" and you can use sabrina brier's "oh" in conversation now.

it seems the killer sent clyde a letter saying he’ll kill him. and he’ll be dead before they can get him help :( noooo i like mr bruckman!!! :(

back to the killer. he’s getting a tarot reading and says he’s looking for a guy he’s gonna kill. the man doing the tarot reading smiles nervously, because what do you say in such a situation.

they seem to have bought clyde a pie after his earlier ramblings on the subject, and he kindly asks scully if she wants some, but she denies because she must study background checks instead of relying upon visions. he asks if she is jealous. a good banter between them.

back at the tarot place, the reader mentions a woman. MAYBE A REDHEAD...? stay away from her…

clyde is going on about seeing himself in bed with scully. HELLO??? “it’s just a very special moment neither of us will ever forget” huh. laughs nervously. what the fuck. is she gonna find him dead or do we need to call HR.

(cries editing this, now that i know how the episode ends)

it seems the tarot card guy is about to get murdered. but back at the hotel room with clyde and scully, they’re playing cards and she’s talking about moby dick and macbeth misinterpreting prophecies...

but despite the denial, SHE ASKS HIM HOW SHE DIES??? he says “you don’t” and that is exactly what i like to hear <3

she seemed really serious about it too, like she didn’t want to admit that she was curious, initially deflecting. oh best believe i WILL psychoanalyze that.

LMAOOO okay so this is the episode where mulder says the “chantilly lace” line and she makes that face. he's referring to another thread found at a murder scene, but i saw it in a gif and i have been thinking about it since then.

she slaps his chest with the file and says good luck as he goes to babysit the old man psychic. it was very affectionate. do it again.

mulder is in bed. it’s sleepover time with the old man. “you’re not one of those people that turns everything into a sexual symbol, are you?”, clyde asks, seemingly self-conscious about revealing his recurring dream. mulder says no, but i’m unconvinced.

anyway, he talks about seeing himself dead, and how his body fades away. we see a cgi decomposing body and it’s quite gnarly. maybe it's clay? and all his skin faded away and he becomes bones. kinda gross tbh. but he says he feels at peace.

there’s been another murder, so another guy is gonna babysit our clyde, and i’m thinking noooo don’t trust this other guy!!

scully says she feels bad, that clyde has convinced himself he is a psychic and it’s taken all the joy out of his life :(

okay, the guy babysitting him seems to be telling him jokes. clyde says he won’t die of lung cancer so he lights up. and i'm thinking, buddy, he did not rule out emphysema.

hang on. that is a lighter we have seen before. in the hands of old lady who shall be eaten by dogs. now is this a mass produced object or are we about to witness the end of clyde!!!!

“don’t open that door for anybody”, says the babysitter, and clyde then immediately proceeds to do so. and who is it knocking but the psychic killer delivering their room service!!!

killer is asking clyde why he does these things and it’s “because you’re a homicidal maniac” well that would explain it! and then he stabs the babysitter. but clyde has delayed his fate by telling the murder he doesn’t kill him now. seems he believes him. clever thinking.

scully realizes that the killer is the bellhop at the hotel after seeing some more lace. which mulder describes as “woman’s intuition” yea <3

back at the hotel. mulder is in the kitchen. he sees the killer with the knife. it is all going down as clyde described it. now if there really is a pie do NOT BE DISTRACTED. OH there is a pie. and he knows he has to turn around, so he turns THE OTHER WAY. noooo!!!!!

they get in a struggle!!! mulder’s bleeding, and scully gets off the elevator just in time. she shoots the murderer. no hesitation on taking a life, she will kill a motherfucker for mulder. i love that about her. 

and scully only got there because she took the wrong elevator!!! more pondering on the meaning of fate!!!!!

i love when one of these bitches is on the floor in pain and the other comes over and comforts them. i think i need that in my life just once. it would heal me.

but the question is: where is bruckman?

they go to find him and they only find a dog tied to the door?? and a letter to scully. it’s the dog from before, the neighbor's pet. the letter from clyde says to take care of his neighbor's remains. and he asks if she wants a dog, and that you can’t blame him for the dog’s actions. so they go into the room.

BUT IT IS BRUCKMAN THAT IS DEAD IN THERE. it looks he took pills and suffocated himself. scully looks so so so so so sad.

AND OMG!!! SHE IS HOLDING HIS HAND WHILE HE IS IN BED AND CRYING. JUST LIKE HE SAID WOULD HAPPEN. WAIT THIS IS SO SAD. 

so that must be why he say a head in a bag at the start of the episode, it was his own death... and the killer was right, he did get to clyde before he was caught, he just didn't attack him. huh. funny how prophecies play out.

cutscene to her on the couch WITH THE DOG IN HER LAP. and an ad from the earlier eastern european psychic is on the tv. she throws the phone at him.

A DOG!!! a dog. okay, a lot to think about, but first and foremost we have scully with a dog <3 and it sits in her lap while she watches TV. and it MAY have tasted human flesh, which i feel is a hard thing to get past, but clearly she has done it. she has done the emotional labor of knowing that fuzzball knows what human meat feels like. and she has faith that this dog will not do the same to her. that is an awful lot of trust for a new dog. but we do know she loves animals. so perhaps she trusts the puppy.

i always pictured her with a big ol mutt from the pound. but a little dog can be just as good of a friend. and it WAS a rescue. that is important!

okay. back to the episode at hand, dog aside. even though it is a BIG deal to me and i'm honestly being so brave by not going on a monologue about what scully having a dog means to me. this episode was definitely comedic, and like the earlier comedic episode, i liked it a lot! but the ending made me so sad :( it was a pretty abrupt tone shift. 

still. the episode was SO good. i kept pausing every few seconds to write things down because they made me laugh or otherwise intrigued me (thinking of scully playing cards and explaining macbeth. or chantilly lace line. or "i can't take you anywhere". i will try not to think of mulder's potential death by choking himself for my own sanity)

and i liked clyde a lot. we get a lot of one time characters who we will never see again and so it’s good when those characters make an impact in the short amount of time we share with them. 

and i’m always gonna take a light-hearted episode, as light-hearted as a show where serial killing is a daily occurrence can be. it does go to show though that there wasn’t always a consistent tone throughout the story. and i do find that interesting. i am part of a generation where we typically get 6 hour long episodes of a tv show per season, and they’re so condensed there is very little time for exploration with genre or tone. in general, i have loathed this about modern television; the death of the filler episode has been lamented by people far more eloquent than myself.

the only thing i dislike about this format- doing a silly episode- is that if the next episode ends up being really dark it’s like, woah man, the whimsy, where did it go? last season we got humbug, which was SO fresh and funny, and then within the first 3 minutes of the next episode, a baby was killed by a train. so i lowkey got whiplash. but then again, i watched those episodes back to back, so maybe having a week between them seeing them air as they hit TV would have softened the blow. feel free to chime in with your theories on the nature of genre and how pacing of episode viewing effects that experience.

overall, a very good episode. i rank it up with humbug as one of my favorites, which is again funny, because i love the extreme angst and the silly. i paused to take so many notes because i liked so many things that i think i should someday rewatch it again and get a smoother experience haha

[zinfindoll]

Swan Song | M. Draconia — 03. familiar faces

[ previous chapter | index | next chapter (coming soon!) ]

Rating: T CW: use of [Y/n], she/her pronouns for reader, swearing, some people are missing

Author's Note: FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY so sorry for the wait guys, i had writer's block for the second half of this chapter :( but i hope the wait was worth it! ♥

Flinching as the monster dove straight at you, you couldn't help but call out the one person you needed most, wishing for one last time to have been able to see him.

"MALLEUS!"

And if you opened your eyes, you would have noticed the fireflies appearing around you.

The blow never came, though, and when you did open your eyes, you saw a familiarly tall and imposing figure in front of you.  His back faced you, but those tall horns were a tell-tale sign of who exactly your savior was.  Green flames licked at the blot monster, and it screeched, rearing back.

Malleus Draconia was relentless, though.  Even as the creature retreated, he easily used his magic to surround it in flames — but before they could reach the monster, it dove back into the mirror, shattering it as it disappeared.

Time seemed to freeze before he turned around, green eyes practically glowing as he regarded you.

"Malleus...  You came...?"  You breathed out heavily, feeling exhaustion weigh over you.  His expression softened, and he reached out to cup your cheek.

"You called," he simply stated, his eyes sweeping over you.  "Are you alright, Child of Man?"

You wanted to cry at the nickname for you.  You hadn't heard it in years.  You hadn't believed anybody would ever call you that again, but here Malleus was, as real as you were, standing right in front of you.  Before you knew it, you were wrapping your arms around him, startling him from the sudden show of affection.  Your hold on him solidified the fact that he was real.  He was real.  And he was here.

It was difficult, but after a beat you managed to nod.  "Yeah...  Yeah.  I'm fine.  Thanks to you."  You had to get it together — now was not the time to get choked up!

After the disappearance of the blot monster, the other smaller monsters seemed to have disappeared — or perhaps they, too, had been eaten away by Malleus' flames.  Whatever the case, they were gone, and with the monsters gone, people began to flock to the streets again.

"Did you see that?  That thing was fucking huge!"

And with people converging back to the streets, all eyes were on you.  Well, actually, they were on Malleus.

"MY LORD!"

You'd recognize that loud voice from anywhere, and turned towards the noise only to see two familiar people stepping out of what you could only describe as a portal.  You couldn't see through the other side, but staring into it felt like looking into a starry abyss, as if it led straight into space.

And stepping out of that portal were Silver and Sebek Zigvolt.

Sebek immediately rushed towards Malleus, not even noticing you for a second as he made sure Malleus had no injuries.  You had stepped back the moment you heard Sebek's voice.  No need to deal with his complaints right now.  "You can't just run off like that!" he exclaimed, before turning towards you finally.  His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before he gave a small nod.  "Human.  Good to see you're... well," he managed, Silver trailing right behind him.  His expression was serious.

Malleus' expression slipped back into one of stoicism, although his gaze was still soft as he regarded you.  "We need to go," he told you grimly.  There was a hand at the small of your back, and you found yourself being turned around to the glowing black portal.  He barely even acknowledged Sebek, although you assumed time was of the essence right now, especially as police sirens grew louder and louder.  No doubt somebody had reported the phenomena, considering a giant, winged monster had appeared from a mirror.

"Wait!"  Yuna called out, clambering to her feet and catching up to you.  "I'm coming too."

"What?" you asked her, eyebrows raising.  "Wait, where are we even going?"

Before anybody could answer, Yuna was speaking up, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses.  "You already got me invested and involved, so I'm coming along too.  Besides, I am not sticking around to explain this situation to the police and how you disappeared.  Again."

"Yuna, it's way too dangerous!  Did you not notice that giant monster that just attacked us?"

She stood her ground.  "I'm coming with," she insisted.  "I'm not letting you do this alone."

You gave her an incredulous look, and Malleus, Sebek, and Silver stood off to the side, looking out-of-place in your argument with your roommate.  "No offense, but we're barely friends, Yuna.  I thought you could barely stand me."

Yuna rolled her eyes.  "I barely know you," she pointed out.  "Despite rooming with you for a few months now.  But I can stand you perfectly fine, or else I would have moved out by now."  She sighed.  "Just let me come with you.  I don't want you to do this alone.  Besides, girl solidarity and all that, right?"

You wanted to argue that you technically wouldn't be alone, but you knew the brunette wouldn't drop it.  Instead, you gave a defeated nod.  "What if we can't get back?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, I suppose."

You wondered if it was just the adrenaline talking for her, but you were done arguing on the subject.  "Alright.  Alright.  Come on."

Malleus seemed relieved that you two had hashed things out, ushering you towards the mirror once more.  You made sure to grab both of your phones and your backpack.

"We're...  Really going back to Twisted Wonderland?" you asked Malleus, and he gave a nod.

"Yes . . .  We're going home."

Your heart was doing backflips in your chest as you glanced at the portal once more.  With nothing else to lose, you took a step through it, seeming to sink into it as the world around you disappeared.

It was nauseating.  You lost all of your senses for a moment — taste, sight, sound, smell, touch...  You felt completely nothing.  And then, colors seemed to swirl around you.  Next moment you knew, you were standing in a familiar room, stumbling and leaning on a desk.  Yuna didn't fare much better, practically collapsing onto the floor as she gasped.  All around, traveling through that portal was an unpleasant experience, although you were glad your arrival this time didn't entail you waking up in a coffin.

"Welcome back!  It is so wonderful to see you again!"

The jubilant and over-the-top voice had you grimace as you looked up.  "Headmage Crowley.  A pleasure to see you again, too."  Was it actually a pleasure, though?  Crowley's negligence was a huge reason why your school life had been wrought with chaos here.

Behind you all, the portal had closed, revealing the Dark Mirror.  Yuna had quit gasping, but was still struggling to stand for a moment.

Crowley nodded at your saviors, crossing his arms.  "While I loathe for our reunion to be like this, as you are probably already aware—"

Cutting Crowley off was a door opening, revealing another familiar face.  "Malleus!  You cannot just run off like that, especially now of all times!"

Still short and looking as youthful as ever despite his age was Lilia Vanrouge, although he did look weary despite it all.  As his eyes landed on you, his gaze softened slightly.  "Fufufu...  It's nice to see you're alive and well at the very least, [Y/n]."

"You too, Lilia."

You accepted the hug he gave you, before pulling away.

"As much as I love reuniting with you all...  I need an explanation of just what the hell is going on."

"Yes...  It would be wise to contact Mr. Shroud to discuss the situation," Crowley agreed with a nod of his head.

It seemed like there might be more going on than you initially thought.

"But first things first...  Who might this be?"  your former headmage looked over at Yuna quizzically.

Okay; introductions first, and then calling Idia.

══════════════════

"I can't believe the Prefect is back," Idia muttered on the other end of the video call.  "Although I guess you're not really a prefect anymore."

Idia had been half muttering the entire time the call had been going on, pre-occupied with whatever he was doing on his end of things.

You sighed.  "I can't either," you admitted.  The entire situation seemed so surreal, still.  "Do you have any idea on what is going on, though?"  You had been quick to explain everything that happened back in your world with the mirror and the blot monsters.

"IDK," Idia grumbled, "but we've also been having earthquakes and the like here.  It's weird, NGL."

"I didn't realize people actually spoke like this," you heard Yuna mutter under her breath, thankfully inaudible to Idia.

"Not to mention the disappearances..."

"And the vandalism!"  Headmage Crowley interrupted, clutching his chest as if that was the biggest issue that was going on right now.

"Um...  Can both of you elaborate?"

Silver was grim.  "A few former students have gone missing, and three of the statues of the Great Seven are also gone."

You recalled Ace and Deuce mentioning that Riddle was missing when you were on video call with them, and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach.  "Riddle is one of them, right?  Ace mentioned it when I called him back in my world."

"Along with Azul and Leona," Silver confirmed.

"I didn't realize Leona was also missing," Lilia's eyebrows raised.

Three former overblot victims and dorm heads...

"And let me guess: The statues missing are the Queen of Hearts, the King of Beasts, and the Sea Witch?"

"Why... Yes!  How did you know?"  Crowley exclaimed, and you wondered not for the first time how somebody like him had ever managed to become headmage of such a prestigious school.  With the threat of an oncoming migraine, you gritted your teeth.

No point in responding to Crowley.  "And just to guess, again, they were probably kidnapped in the order of Riddle, Leona, and Azul.  Right?"

"Yep."

"It's the order of those who overblotted," you pointed out.  But you weren't sure why the statues were being stolen.  Of course, you had easily pieced together the connection between the overblot victims and the Great Seven years upon years ago, but what did stealing a statue have to do with anything?  What was the point?

Then again, why were overblot victims being kidnapped once more, if not STYX related?

It was as if Idia could sense your skepticism.  "Wait, I swear it's not me or anybody else in STYX!"  he exclaimed, and while you still remained somewhat skeptical, you found yourself believing him.  After all, Idia had also overblotted, meaning he was in an equal amount of danger now if the kidnappings continued.

"Jesus," you muttered, leaning against the wall.  A wave of dizziness and fatigue washed over you.

"Child of Man?"  Malleus questioned, finally speaking up.  "Are you feeling unwell?"

". . . Just tired," you sighed, crossing your arms.  This was...  A lot to process.  You couldn't really wrap your head around everything.  Was everything connected?  The natural phenomena, the disappearances, and the leakage of blot in your world?  Were they all coincidences?

. . . Probably not.  Twisted Wonderland wasn't knowing for 'coincidences'.  No doubt, this was all connected.  But how?  Why?

Yuna had been silent the entire time, listening grimly.  You wondered how much you were going to have to explain to her later; probably most of it.  Unlike you, this was all completely new to her, although Yuna seemed to be a fast learner.

"Perhaps we should rest and regroup," Lilia suggested.  "As it is, Malleus, you must return.  You shouldn't have ran off like that."

Malleus frowned a bit, but didn't refute the statement.  Still, he looked displeased.  Upon seeing your confused expression, Lilia sighed once more.

"Our Young Malleus has finally accepted the crown to become King of Briar Valley, and thus, really shouldn't have ran off.  Oh, to put an old man in retirement in such a position..."  The sigh was more dramatic than it needed to be, and you glanced up at Malleus.

"Oh.  Congratulations...?"

"Is that all you have to say?" Sebek asked incredulously, and you wondered how hard it was for him to keep his voice level.  The Sebek you knew would have screamed it, although six years was a lot of time for somebody else to change.

Malleus chuckled.  "Thank you," he told you instead.  "Briar Valley is open to you and your friend, of course."

You hesitated.  You would have loved to stay in Briar Valley and remain close to Malleus, but you knew better.  Instead, you turned to Crowley.  "Is...  Is Ramshackle still a viable place to stay?" you asked him.  "Not that I don't want to stay in Briar Valley, but...  I need to stay somewhere that is central to everything."

Plus, you knew Ramshackle and NRC campus a bit better than a castle in Briar Valley, and the familiar playing grounds was somewhat of a comfort to you.

Headmage Crowley crossed his arms once more.  "Well...  If you promise to solve the missing persons cases and the acts of theft upon Night Raven College, you are most welcome to stay back in your old dorm!  Although it may need some fixing up once more...  Oh, aren't I so gracious to host you once more?"

Gracious?  Once again, he was dumping problems way out of your league on you, a magicless human.

You were far used to it, now, though.

"Yes, you sure are," you sarcastically replied.  Crowley didn't pick up on the sarcasm, seeming to preen under your 'praise'.

"Come on, Yuna.  I have a lot to go over with you."

Bidding the others 'goodbye' and ending your call with Idia, you were tempted to pinch yourself.  Was this all really happening?  Everything was moving so fast in a blur, as if this were all some fever dream.  

"Ah, just a moment!"  Crowley followed you and Yuna out of the office, the latter looking around in veiled awe at the interior of the castle.

"What."

You didn't mean to sound so grouchy but, in your defense...  It had been a day.  

"Before you head to the dorm, please take a visit to the courtyard.  We cannot figure out how these statues are missing, and each one is invaluable, as I'm sure you remember—"

"—Yeah, yeah.  We'll swing by the courtyard."

Not even giving Crowley anymore time, you left and dragged Yuna behind her, taking her to the courtyard.

You had previously explained a bit of the world to her, but experiencing it was a different thing.  Recognition flashed over her face; it was dark out, but there was ample lighting to reveal the remaining statues.  You allowed her a moment to circle each of them.

"We're missing the Queen of Hearts, Scar, and Ursula," you told her, before nodding at the statue of Ja'far.  "I'm guessing he's going to go missing next...  maybe.  I don't know.  I really want to sleep."

Yuna ran a hand through her hair, matching your look of exhaustion.  "Me too.  Shit...  Just what am I getting dragged into?"

"You're the one who asked to come along."

"Yeah, touché."

Sleep would have to wait for now, though — the two of you had work to do.