#also every time I notice more horrible or chilling or gut punching moments

[creature-once-removed]

.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

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

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

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

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

[authenticdesperation]

A Review of Every Single Episode of Inside No. 9 [1/2]

Disclaimer: my opinions are not definitive but they are bloody good. There may be spoilers so read at your own risk. This will probably have to be a two-parter for the sake of my sanity and your scrolling.  

Series 1

1. Sardines 

A killer way to kick off a series with an absolutely top notch cast. This episode probably wins the award for the episode I’ve spent the most time thinking about after watching, putting all the little things that went over my head at first into place. I love the set design in this episode as well with everything seeming delightfully old fashioned. 

2. A Quiet Night In

This episode is something of a masterclass in farce and it is a Bold Move to have the second episode of a new series almost completely free of dialogue. It’s dirty, it’s fully of silly slapstick and it’s a nice change of pace after the rather harrowing ending to the first episode. 

3. Tom and Gerri 

This is an episode I enjoyed more when I thought about it more. It beautifully shows the decline of Tom’s mental health (acted impeccably, lovely work from Reece) due to grief. Also it was quite nice to see Reece and Steve acting opposite each other more, they have great chemistry together and Steve as Migg is perfectly unsettling. 

4. Last Gasp

Now, I have to be honest with you: I do not exclusively have glowing praise for this episode. I enjoyed it far more after watching it more than once as I liked the humour of it. One of my favourite things was the video camera perspective at the start, as well as some lovely moments with the music. However, I’m not overly keen on the ending, I just found it slightly underwhelming. 

5. The Understudy

Back on the praise train kids! I am a big old Shakespeare nerd (as are Reece and Steve, apparently) and I studied Macbeth for my GCSEs so I was particularly excited when I watched it. I will also have to give a little nod to the directing of this episode, it was an absolute feast for the eyes. 

6. The Harrowing

Oh hell yes (no pun intended). I think this episode is a great one to cap off the first series, really demonstrating the versatility of Steve and Reece. Also, I’m a big horror fan and the entire atmosphere of it really appealed to me. Though I would say that the second I saw that house I would have run about fifteen miles in the opposite direction.

Series 2

1. La Couchette

This episode is very similar to Sardines in the sense that it feels rather claustrophobic, but this time it leans far more towards the comedy side of things rather than drama. Bonus points for Steve demonstrating his German skills. 

2. The 12 Days of Christine

Ah yes, the episode I’ve cried at every time I’ve watched it. This one is a strong demonstration of how to wrong foot an audience: you never quite know what’s going on until towards the end and all of the horror-esque moments just add to the confusion making the ending one hell of an emotional gut-punch. I wouldn’t watch it if you need something to cheer you up, though.

3. The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge

My second favourite episode of series two, The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge is packed to the brim with silly puns and smutty jokes. I personally predicted the twist but in this case I don’t think it really mattered as I was too busy enjoying the Horrible Histories for adults thing that was going on. Bonus points for another killer cast.

4. Cold Comfort

The first of two episodes directed by Steve and Reece and really quite a bold one at that. The whole thing is filmed in the style of a CCTV feed, which I’m pretty sure an experienced director would warn you off trying, but it really pays off in the narrative. Since the camera doesn’t switch focus at any point, it really relies on the acting performances to keep your focus which, in my opinion, the cast fucking nailed.

5. Nana’s Party

If I had to describe the episode in two words they would be ‘domestic drama’. It’s a fairly classic setup of a family with their fair share of secrets, namely adultery and alcoholism, but happily doesn’t give the game away too early and a layer of humour is added by the slightly irritating prankster character of Pat. It’s the second episode of the series directed by Steve and Reece and has a sort of understated quality to it, showing Claire Skinner’s character’s exacting nature above a layer of familial drama. 

6. Séance Time

My favourite episode of series two, at first you think you’re walking into another haunted house scenario until you find out it’s a prank show that went off the air due to a scandal. There’s a great sense of humour throughout, and I don’t know whether I’m easily freaked out or the final jumpscare was genuinely terrifying but I flew about fifteen feet into the air when I saw it. Once I’d peeled myself off the ceiling, I really appreciated that it felt like a slow burn horror despite still only being half an hour. 

Series 3

1. The Devil of Christmas

I live for schlocky horror films that are so cheesy they give you nightmares if you watch them before bed. So the 1970s film within the episode, accompanied by a director’s commentary-cum-police interview performed by Derek Jacobi, was an absolute treat. The story of Krampus is one that has been done a lot, but never as a snuff film (as far as I know) so it was a nice little twist.

2. The Bill

Every time I rewatch Inside No. 9 this is the episode I always have to watch no matter what. It is such a simple premise and it feels slightly reminiscent of the Geoff, Mike and Brian sketches from The League of Gentlemen. Now is probably the moment where I should sing the praises of director Guillem Morales who has, quite frankly, become my personal hero having seen the many, many episodes of this series he’s directed. The framing in this episode is absolutely genius, but it’s only really obvious after you’ve watched it a few times and I have to give kudos for making a dialogue-heavy episode visually interesting. There are jokes that I think about at least twice a week and I am obsessed with Jason Watkins’ acting...I think this will be my longest review of this whole post. 

3. The Riddle of the Sphinx

This is the best episode I will never watch again. I love horror, and I’ve watched some bone-chilling films but something about this episode made me feel so uncomfortable. It is also a real testament to Steve Pemberton, who I’m led to believe is the cryptic crossword fan who took the lead writing this episode, that he wrote something involving cryptic crosswords that didn’t give me a migraine. 

4. Empty Orchestra

Ah, what a nice change of pace after the last episode with something far lighter. The karaoke booth concept is so fun and I’ve never understood the criticism of the episode. That being said, of every single antagonist in every single episode of Inside No. 9, Connie is the character I love to hate the most. All of the characters feel more like people you’ve met before and the vibe of a group of work colleagues in a karaoke booth going through the usual petty drama feels familiar. I think series three is one that has some of the darkest concepts and this is a great exception to that. 

5. Diddle Diddle Dumpling

When I looked in the background more while rewatching this episode, I noticed a lot of things were in twos. I can only assume that was a deliberate choice made somewhere along the line, and one that pays off when you notice it. Both Mat Baynton and Keeley Hawes played their parts to perfection, with Mat really doing quite a lot with a fairly small part. The whole episode reads as an interesting analysis of grief, in a similar sense to Tom and Gerri. Also, Reece’s character did not murder the remaining twin and apparently I’m the weirdo for thinking that was what was being implied. In my defence, there was cannibalism earlier in the series; filicide did not seem like that big of a leap.

6. Private View 

Agatha Christie eat your heart out (that wasn’t meant to be a reference to the ending, it’s just a happy accident). Murder mysteries are my absolute jam so I am obsessed with this episode. The modern art show is such a great setting for a whodunnit as demonstrated by the reaction to the discovery of Peter Kay’s character’s body. All the characters have their brilliant little quirks, and the killer is revealed at the perfect time and it was a good idea to not make that reveal the twist. 

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

I was browsing your blog and I saw an anon mention "sick of losleep" (but in a joking way) my gay ass saw losleep sick, as in a sick fic, and i proceeded to scroll hoping to find said losleep sicfick, lol there was non and that is a crime XD. Would you write (or do you have any HC's) for like Sick Remy and Lo taking care of him?😎

This is WAY late and I apologize for that anon but I’m here now so!! enjoy!!

Ao3Warnings: This is a sickfic so lots of sicky stuff (cough, sneezing, fever actually happen; nausea mentioned), sleep-deprivation (Remy’s a double-threat), minor self-deprecation from both Logan and Remy for different reasons, Logan calling Remy names but in a worried loving way

“You’re sick.”

“Nope.”

“Whether or not you are willing to accept it does not alter the state of your condition.”

“Yeah. And my condition is completely amazing and awesome. Not sick.”

Logan frowned when this rather cocky pronunciation was followed by a round of rough coughing from his boyfriend. “Attempting to ignore your illness will only worsen it. Something it seems you have already done. How long have you been sick?”

“Never.” Remy replied, too confidentially given he looked ready to collapse if a light breeze blew against him. He coughed again, wincing a bit before he added defensively, “Though I might have gotten a bad headache on Monday.”

“Monday?!” Logan repeated, giving up his pretense of only being vaguely annoyed. “You’ve been suffering with this for four days?! With, what, your average seven hours of sleep each night?”

“...Seven might be a little high.”

Logan only blinked at Remy, the other boy awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Logan was spurred back into action when Remy sneezed and immediately went back to coughing, moving forward so he could grab Remy’s arm, fairly certain the other really would collapse otherwise.

“Bed. Now.” Logan said, tugging firmly at Remy, towards their apartment’s bedroom.

“Hun, really, I’ll be fi-” Remy started, pulling his arm out of Logan’s grip. The moment he did, however, his feet caught up around each other, both illness and his much too common habit of not sleeping nearly enough stealing his balance from him as he tripped backwards.

Logan had already seen something of the sort happening, catching Remy before he had a chance to actually hit the ground. Lowering the two of them to the ground from there, Logan sighed when he realized that, as well as physically fallen, Remy had also fallen unconscious.

“An idiot.” Logan muttered to himself as he took the opportunity to rest his hand on Remy’s forehead, feeling much too hot. Fever. “I’m in love with an idiot, an utter idiot, a fool.”

Though maybe the blame didn’t fall solely on Remy this time. After all, only a moron would miss the paler-than-average skin, the way Remy had been hugging his jacket closer around him while constantly taking advil, the fact that he had been coughing so much for so long.

What could he say? Remy wasn’t exactly the role model of ‘living healthy.’ Him acting weird was normal.

But still. Logan should have noticed sooner.

Sighing, Logan removed Remy’s sunglasses as well, wincing at how badly the bruise-like bags under his eyes stood out against his sick pallor. Sick or no, it was most certainly bedtime for Remy.

~~

The first thing Remy registered as he woke up was that he felt like hell. Which wasn’t exactly anything new- his head really had been pounding since Monday, and every day that followed had only added to his roster of symptoms: coughing, sneezing, chills, nausea. The works.

He knew he should have taken time off sooner, but he and Logan needed the money, and he had never been one to admit defeat- especially not to a stupid cold!

Remy wasn’t one hundred percent sure what the last thing that happened was, but he was pretty sure it was the ‘stupid’ cold punching him right in the gut and then laughing for a while.

So why, along with all the pain, did he feel... slightly okay?

Remy blinked open his eyes, glaring at the light that immediately assaulted them and forcing them shut again. Memories, albeit fuzzy, of his last waking interactions came with the too bright light, though they ended with what Remy was pretty sure him falling on the floor.

Did the ground always feel this soft?

Remy risked opening his eyes again, the light more manageable this time, frowning as he pressed his hands down and found them meeting strong, but not complete, resistance from whatever he was laying on, and something on top of them moved.

Oh. He was in a bed.

Remy’s frown deepened. He couldn’t be in bed! He had to get to work! He probably hadn’t even collapsed at all, just dreamed it up, stupid weak body trying to trick him into sleeping in. Well it wasn’t going to work, Remy vowed as he started to sit up, ignoring both the way his stomach flipped and his head pounded at the movement. That wasn’t going to stop him!

What was going to stop him, however, was the sudden weight that pressed against his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed. A blur of very familiar colours appeared in his line of sight, then, leaning over him while they spoke, saying something Remy couldn't completely hear but was rather sure was some form of a lecture on his lack of personal health care.

“-a reckless fool, pretending you’re not sick, not telling me; your heroic wannabe of a brother is a horrible influence on you-”

Remy fought the urge to chuckle only because he knew it would turn into a cough. Logan kept speaking, still in the descriptive nicknames part of his rant as he pressed something cool to Remy’s forehead. Even as Remy suppressed another shiver, he sighed at the relief of what he assumed to be a cold, damp rag brought to what he was finally willing to admit was his fever.

Logan stopped talking at this, just sighing as well and resting his hand on Remy’s cheek, stroking his thumb slowly across Remy’s face.

“You worried me.”

Remy pressed his cheek closer to Logan’s hand. “Sorr’babes.” He slurred.

“It’s... it’s alright, Remy, I just want to know what possessed you to make such a foolish decision.”

“’Don’t need to be sic’ to make foolish decisions.”

“More foolish than usual then.” Logan amended, and Remy snorted, immediately regretting it when the pounding in his head increased with the action. Logan paused in moving his thumb for a moment, continuing when Remy had once more settled down.

“I didn’t think t’was that bad.” Remy said quietly after a moment had passed. “Thought it was justa lil cold.”

“I know.” Logan responded. “But still. You’re my boyfriend. A particularly self-neglectful one at that. If you get sick, I want to know. Even if you think it’s nothing, or just a head cold, or anything else. It’s important to me that I can take care of you when you’re not feeling well.”

Remy didn’t say anything immediately afterwards, instead just looking at the mostly-focused blur that was his boyfriend and trying to ignore the fact that his eyes were suddenly stinging. He refused to cry over something as silly as affection, especially when it was as simple as ‘it’s important to me that I can take care of you when you’re not feeling well.’ He didn’t roll like that.

“Aw, you care.” He finally said, cooing as he smiled loopily at Logan. Logan just rolled his eyes fondly.

“For your sake, you are very lucky that I do.”

“Of course, hun.” Remy said, tone slightly more serious, though he was still too tired for much emotion outside of ‘sleepy’ and ‘sappy.’  “A’ways lucky to’ave you.”

“That you are.” Logan confirmed with a smile. The silence stretched for a few more moments before Logan murmured, “You should get some more rest.”

“Mmhmmm.” Remy hummed. More rest sounded good. It sounded very good. And so tempting to just close his eyes and let himself drift away…

Realizing that Remy was fading fast, Logan stilled his hand on Remy’s cheek, leaning in a bit so he could press a small kiss to his forehead. Remy made a small happy noise at that, and Logan patted his cheek in response. After the pat, however, Logan started to pull his hand away, mumbling quietly about starting up some soup.

Remy struggled to get his eyes open again, able to catch (to his immense disappointment) the sight of Logan shifting to stand up and head towards the kitchen. “Wait.”

Logan stopped, turning back to Remy, brow creased in concern. “Yes?”

“I-” Remy cut himself off, frowning. He looked away from his boyfriend, glanced back, looked away again. “Nevermind.”

Logan’s frown deepened as he came back over to the edge of the bed, sitting back down and brushing stray hair out of Remy’s eyes as he watched him, looking for an explanation. “What is it, darling?”

Remy shook his head, just barely. “Nothin’. Go do your thing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Logan corrected gently. “I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to take care of you. What do you need?”

“...You’ll get sick.” Remy said, slowly, hunching his shoulders a little bit in an attempt to curl into himself without moving too much.

“I’ve been with you since you got sick, sharing an apartment with you, I carried you in here after you went and collapsed, and I just kissed you.” Logan listed off. “Don’t worry about me; I’m already doomed. Right now, I’m worried about you.”

Remy finally looked back at Logan, finding his boyfriend still frowning at him, still concerned. He really didn’t deserve him.

“Stay with me?” He finally asked, voice quieter than it had been since he woke up, feeling more than a little abashed at asking. He wasn’t a clingy boyfriend, in general. He preferred the aloof angle, preferred acting like the reason he sprawled across the whole couch was to be annoying, not to ensure Logan would have to sit near to him, and the like. He didn’t ask for stupid sappy things like ‘stay with me.’

But right then and there he was sick, he was tired, and he felt as if he was positively going to die if Logan left and took all his soft warmth with him.

Logan’s frown was quickly replaced by a gentle smile at Remy’s request.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He promised easily, his hand sliding down from Remy’s hair to once more cup Remy’s cheek. “Can I at least start the soup first? I’ll be very fast, I promise.”

“Do you have to?” Remy asked, voice even quieter, almost a whimper. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him. It would just be a minute or two. But he didn’t want Logan to go at all, even for a second.

“I don’t.” Logan soothed, his other hand moving to rub Remy’s arm. “I’ll stay right here with you, alright?”

Remy nodded his head, already feeling his eyes start to slip shut, unworried about having to stop Logan from leaving again. He vaguely recognized Logan shifting onto the bed, pulling Remy’s head into his lap, once more combing through his hair with one hand and still running a hand over Remy’s arm.

“M’sorry for bein’ so needy.” Remy slurred, quickly losing the battle against remaining conscious and not minding that much. Logan just shushed him and continued petting his arm and hair, beckoning Remy to fall asleep even faster.

“You’re tired and weakened by your illness.” Logan said factually. “It’s normal. It’s alright. Get some rest. It’ll be okay.”

Remy nodded once as he pressed his head closer to Logan’s thigh. Logan was warm and soft, and Remy felt safe with his head nestled in his lap and held close to his boyfriend. Eyes completely shut and any reason to remain awake completely eliminated, he drifted off within a minute, feeling secure and loved.

Maybe, just maybe, the next time Remy got sick, he’d let Logan know.

[broomballkraken]

Title: An Unrivaled Love

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Pairing(s): Sylvain/Lorenz

Word count: 1685

Warnings: N/A

Summary:  50 sentences of Sylvain and Lorenz

#01: Air

It was an amazing thing, Lorenz mused, that something as insignificant as Sylvain showing him a genuine smile was enough to knock the air from his lungs like he had been punched right in the gut.

#02: Apples

Sylvain tossed the half-eaten apple at Lorenz as he turned around, and Lorenz took a bite, secretly hoping to get a lingering taste of Sylvain among the sweetness of the fruit.

#03: Beginning

From the moment they met, Lorenz had a feeling that Sylvain would become a thorn in his side, but he of all people should have known that thorns can be accompanied by something quite beautiful.

#04: Bugs

“Get back here Sylvain!” Lorenz screeched, and Sylvain only barely managed to dodge the huge cockroach that was thrown at his head as he ran for his life.

#05: Coffee

“Coffee? Ugh, what an awful, bitter drink!” Sylvain agreed with Lorenz on something for once, but he would never actually admit it.

#06: Dark

“C’mon babe, it’s still dark outside…” Lorenz hesitated a moment, but he quickly decided that his morning routine could be delayed a bit, and he sunk back into his lover’s warm embrace.

#07: Despair

As Sylvain finally recognized the enemy dark knight - by his hair, colored a unique shade of purple that he had only seen once in his life - a feeling of despair that Sylvain had never felt before settled deep in his gut as he gripped his lance with a ghost-white hand.

#08: Doors

“Are you coming, darling?” Sylvain smiled and nodded as he placed his hand in Lorenz’s, letting his husband pull him through the door of their new home.

#09: Drink

After making the mistake of letting Sylvain out of his sight for far too long at the tavern, Lorenz struggled to support him on the way home as Sylvain blabbered on in a drunken stupor about how much he loved him.

#10: Duty

Lorenz knew that it was part of his duty to find a noble woman to marry, but as Sylvain shifted against his chest while he slept, Lorenz was highly considering telling his father to fuck off.

#11: End

With the final blow stuck, the war had finally come to an end, but Sylvain and Lorenz knew that this was only the beginning for them as they ran across the battlefield into each other’s embrace.

#12: Fall

“You’re supposed to stay on the horse, you know-” Lorenz rolled his eyes and cut Sylvain off by grabbing his arm and yanking him to the ground with him.

#13: Fear

Sylvain had never known a fear so terrifying as what he felt when he saw Lorenz fall from his horse, his shoulder and gut pierced by one arrow each.

#14: Fire

Sylvain hated the fact that Lorenz was better at magic than him, but what he hated even more was how beautiful the reflection of the flames looked mingled with the amethyst color of his eyes.

#15: Flexible

After making the horrible mistake of claiming to be more flexible than Lorenz, Sylvain was begrudgingly grateful that his rival at least had the decency to help him get to the infirmary.

#16: Flying

Lorenz was supportive of Sylvain trying out wyvern riding, but as he clung to his lover’s back for dear life while their giant draconic mount soared through the sky, he was greatly reconsidering this particular method of support.

#17: Food

“Hm, Fish and Bean Soup? As much as I loath to say it, you have impeccable taste, Sylvain.”

#18: Foot

Sylvain winced as Lorenz gently tended to his wounded foot, and even as he was being scolded for moving too much, Sylvain couldn’t help but crack a smile when he noticed the look of worry in Lorenz’s eyes.

#19: Gift

Sylvain’s initial shock when Lorenz got down on one knee in front of him with a ring quickly melted away and was replaced with amusement as he followed suit.

#20: Grave

Every time Sylvain left a rose at the weather-worn grave, he also left a piece of his completely shattered heart with it.

#21: Head

“Gods, I must have been dropped on my head as a child if I’m falling for you of all people.”

#22: Hollow

As he gazed out the window of the Gloucester Estate, Lorenz couldn’t help but wonder if these five years of war had left Sylvain feeling as hollow as he did.

#23: Honor

‘An honorable noble would not leave someone to face their despair alone,’ Lorenz told himself as he knocked on the door to Sylvain’s room.

#24: Hope

“When I look at you, my darling, and see how much love you harbor for me in your eyes, it gives me hope that we will both make it through this war, together.”

#25: Light

“You’ve always been a light in my life, Sylvain. Yes, even when we used to fight all the time, because those encounters allowed me to get close to you, and to fall completely and utterly in love with you.”

#26: Lost

Sylvain had felt lost when he returned to Garrag Mach to reunite with his class, but when he met Lorenz atop the Goddess Tower to exchange apologies, complements, and a few passionate, inexplicable kisses, Sylvain felt like he was finally being steered in the right direction.

#27: Metal

The jarring sound of metal striking metal rang throughout the training grounds, and as Sylvain’s eyes locked with those of his heated rival, a much different kind of heat sparked to life deep within his chest.

#28: New

This parenting thing was new, and a cause of slight anxiety, for the both of them, but when they saw the looks of pure joy on their adopted daughter and son’s faces when they brought them home, Sylvain and Lorenz knew that this would be the best decision that they would make together.

#29: Old

After 40 long years together, even though their hair had grayed and skin wrinkled, Sylvain and Lorenz still thought of each other as the most beautiful person they had ever known, and will ever know.

#30: Peace

Every time Lorenz stared deep and lovingly into his eyes before kissing him tenderly, Sylvain was overwhelmed with a sense of peace that he would never get anywhere else.

#31: Pretty

"Your eyes, they're just...gods damn it, you have the prettiest fucking eyes that I've ever seen, Lorenz!"

#32: Pride

“This is my life, Father, and I will not let you dictate how I live it any longer!” As Count Gloucester’s face contorted with unbridled rage, Sylvain had never felt more proud of his fiancé.

#33: Rain

Lorenz used to hate getting caught in the rain, but after a sudden downpour forced him and Sylvain to take shelter and gave them a rare moment of respite, he decided that he actually didn’t mind it as much after all.

#34: Regret

“My greatest regret...is that I never got to tell you how I feel about you, Sylvain,” Lorenz said as he raised his lance, and the blood drained from Sylvain’s face.

#35: Roses

They say that every rose has its thorn, but for Lorenz, Sylvain would take the risk of being pricked.

#36: Secret

“You really thought it was a secret?  Oh please, just taking one look at you two together told us all we needed to know.” Hilda just laughed as Lorenz buried his beet-red face in his hands.

#37: Sickness

Lorenz was insufferable to be around when sick, but when a shaky, clammy hand slipped into Sylvain’s as he dabbed the sweat from his husband’s forehead, any annoyance he might have been feeling melted away to be replaced with an incredible fondness.

#38: Smile

“I love you!” Sylvain’s bold declaration came out in a desperate shout, and his eyes welled up with tears when Lorenz’s first reaction was to smile.

#39: Snow

Sylvain couldn’t tell if Lorenz’s face was so red because of the cold or embarrassment, but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he dodged the snowball thrown his way in retaliation.

#40: Soft

Lorenz was just as much of a battle-hardened warrior as Sylvain was, and yet, as they lay tangled in bed together, Sylvain had never felt such a soft feeling as when Lorenz skin was pressed against his own.

#41: Solid

When confronted by their fathers' opposition to their relationship, Sylvain and Lorenz realized that they had a pretty solid foundation built when they both simultaneously told them to fuck off.

#42: Spring

Spring was the season of love, something Sylvain was normally a self-proclaimed ‘expert’ at, but he didn’t really know what to make of these newfound feelings for his longtime rival.

#43: Stable

“Remember that one time, in the stables? Man, if Ferdinand would have caught us, we would have never heard the end of it!”

#44: Strange

Claude glanced up briefly from the maps that he was studying as Lorenz and Sylvain passed by, and he swore that he would never get used to the strange sight of those two holding hands.

#45: Summer

Summer was becoming one of Sylvain’s favorite seasons, because almost every morning he would find a beautiful bouquet of flowers left for him, carefully picked from his husband’s own garden.

#46: War

On mornings when Sylvain was lucky enough to wake up wrapped in Lorenz’s arms, the war seemed like it was a million miles away.

#47: Water

“Next time, maybe you should snag a smaller fish,” Sylvain said, laughing as he brushed Lorenz’s soaking-wet hair out of his pouting face.

#48: Whisper

Slender, practiced fingers traced over Sylvain’s overheated skin as Lorenz whispered his name, and that alone was enough to undo Sylvain completely.

#49: Wind

The soft breeze blowing passed the Goddess Tower gently tousled Lorenz’s hair, and Sylvain did not - could not - tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight.

#50: Winter

Sylvain was accustomed to the chill of winter, but Lorenz was not, and Sylvain took advantage of this fact to spend each and every cold morning basking in the warmth of their entwined bodies.

[taebadam]

act two pt. 1:

act twooooooo. we start w hands clean (this ensemble wowwowwowowow) and the stage opens to bella and andrew on either side of nick, all staring out into the audience. a few moments later jo and frankie come in from stage right and stand on either side of bella, comforting her and staying by her side as they walk off stage. honestly, i love how bella is rarely alone in all of this, jo and frankie are always there for her it’s really sweet.

as they all leave we transition to a psychologist’s office where steve and mj are getting ready to meet w the doctor. cue not the doctor. so good. so funny. so clever. when yana comes up behind them as the doctor and announces “hello i am the doctor” it’s just so perfect. then comes the therapy session. the whole time steve is emotional and desperate trying to get through to mj and figure out what’s wrong he’s just so concerned and mj is just so completely closed off: body language, speech and all. she does not want to be there. she does mention her car accident, though, and the doctor comments that physical trauma can awaken past trauma, even sexual trauma (hint hint see the predator theme from forgiven…). mj immediately tries to deny this and steve just doesn’t know what to do. there is a funny line though where the doctor asks if steve would describe himself as the high-libido partner and steve responds “i would describe myself as a puppy under the table begging for scraps… and getting kicked in the head w a loafer” and mj goes “these are not loafers these are drivers” and it’s so funny. but eventually the doctor asks if mj has always been reluctant to have sex and steve says no, that “they were great once. remember?” cue head over feet. frankie and phoenix peek out from behind the panels on either side of the stage while mj and steve are still in the center as the song starts. eventually the couples switch places as the song grows and the swingset replaces the doctor’s office for frankie and phoenix to climb on while they sing. the song ends with them in frankie’s room, about to have sex. as they start taking each other’s clothes off jo enters from the side, singing your house (wow i love lauren patten her voice i just ahhhhhhhh). all of your house is acapella and lauren patten is just honestly a freak of nature. she walks into frankie’s room and catches them in the middle of having sex, running out and trying to hide the fact that she’s crying as frankie calls after her. she runs downstairs as mj and steve come home and announces that frankie has been having sex w a boy upstairs. she breaks the tension w one of my favorite lines “he was wearing dog tags w no shirt like a douche!” then steve calls her joanne before running upstairs. as he and mj leave she stops for a moment and says, her voice small, shaking and cracking a little and with a hint of just utter devastation “please don’t call me joanne.” she then returns to her usual funny self though and yells “i’m not a fucking fabric store!” before exiting the stage. again, just beautiful acting from lauren. the face jo puts on only breaks for a second but wow is it like a punch in the gut. it breaks me every time.

ok so you know how in theaters there are poles/scaffolding on either side of the stage where they hang lights and speakers and things? yeah. so steve and mj run into frankie’s room and phoenix can be seen literally climbing down said scaffolding w no shirt or pants on, trying desperately not to drop his clothes. steve comments about frankie’s friend “running down the sidewalk w his pants falling down” as phoenix stumbles through the audience just trying his best. it is so fucking funny. but then mj and steve start berating frankie. they say she’s too young to be having sex “especially w a boy she just met” and frankie responds “what if it was with a girl? i’m bisexual, did you know that?” and steve’s like “wow ok” and it’s hilarious cause clearly he’s like not upset w this and would want to talk about it more but also there’s another issue at hand and this poor dude is like idk what to do. meanwhile mj just keeps going on about how frankie shouldn’t be doing this and frankie goes “you don’t care about the situation w bella but as soon as i choose to have sex w someone i care about it’s a crime?” and mj goes “don’t even get me started in the situation w bella. if youre not careful frankie the same thing could happen to you.” silence. a few gasps in the audience. frankie slowly stands up and pushes mj away “you don’t get it.” she says, devastated, and begins packing a bag. they ask her what she’s doing, she says it’s none of their business and they say it is because they’re her parents. she yells “you are not my parents! look at me. you don’t own me just because you have a paper in a file folder somewhere. you thought you could straighten my hair and raise me around white kids and i would turn out like you. well i’mglad i didn’t. i don’t want o be like you.” she rushes off and steve and mj yell at each other in anger, mj blaming him as the workaholic who was never around and steve trying to get through to her and say that maybe they made some mistakes when raising frankie and they should try to listen to her. to no avail.

cut to unprodigal daughter. frankie is on a train to new york and her and the ensemble just completely rock out. she has her moment, finally free of all the pain and stress of home. she’s carefree and happy, dancing her heart out. OH WOW THE CHOREOGRAPHY HERE HOLY SHIT. also her voice. wowowow. so good. at the end, they do a lift w frankie that’s the EXACT SAME LIFT as they did w ebony (her double) back in all i really want. so good. after the song she calls phoenix, trying to get him to come to new york w her. she tells phoenix she loves him and he can’t say it back, he tries to explain that he really likes her he’s just not ready to say he loves her yet but frankie hangs up on him, heartbroken.

there’s a mini transition scene where all of the ensemble are on their phones saying horrible things about bella like that she’s only doing this for the money and that she’s just trying to get attention. at the end they all silently hold out their phone screens to the audience and walk off without a word. wow.

the next scene bella walks into the healy house, looking for nick. instead the finds mj in the kitchen and they talk. mj says she heard about what happened and says she understands how bella feels. bella says she doubts that and mj says that she’s experienced the same thing before, but that “we have to be strong and accept our mistakes.” she’s trying to smile, act like everything is ok. it’s a call back to her line in forgiven after she discusses her assault, where she says “i kept going i powered through.” bella looks at her for a moment and asks, “when did you start to feel better?” she pauses and her voice breaks as she begins to cry “how long did it take? tell me when i’m gonna feel normal again.” silence. mj doesn’t have an answer. “great.” bella says and leaves. nick comes in right after she goes and tells mj the police called, that he thinks he should say something about what he saw. mj immediately shuts him down, tells him to stay out of it for fear of him losing his reputation or, worse, his acceptance to harvard. he stops and says “i need to tell you what i saw that night.” cue predator.

this song is haunting. truly. it begins with that chilling theme and you just know what’s coming and all the times that theme came in during the first act start to come together and it dawns on you and just. wow. we go back to the night of the party, but this time from bella’s point of view. we now see everything andrew does so, so clearly and we’re left thinking: how did we not notice this before? the truth is each of us probably did notice something, something small. but we’ve been conditioned to ignore it, see it as normal, something that “just happens sometimes.” and it’s really a punch to the gut when you realize what you did, how you were a bystander who didn’t notice the signs that were right in front of your face. i have never seen a piece of art or media so successfully throw viewers into this mindset, truly showing us how easy it is to be passive and complicit. we can’t judge nick really. we can’t think “how could he not see something was wrong? how could he not say anything?” because we did it too. we see andrew give her drink after drink, pull her away from her friends and guide her as he pleases. about halfway through the song, however, bella steps away from the party scene to sing at the side and who replaces her? HEATHER. MJ’S BODY DOUBLE. heather takes her place in her same outfit and begins a truly mesmerizing choreography that has her falling around the stage, being pulled and lifted and tossed around by the ensemble like she has no control over her body, no control over her actions. the panels begin to move in as we get closer to the final chorus and eventually they open up to reveal a bed standing upright (like we’re looking down on it) with the party still raging behind and bella steps over and leans back on the bed as she hits her big note going into the climax of the song. she lays there on the bed, immobilized, singing in despair as andrew slowly approaches her while the panels around her show the images that were taken at the party which frankie and jo mentioned in the first act. then, as the chorus come to an end, andrew removes her from the bed and brings her to the floor. it’s at this point that a few things come together and let me tell you: i gasped. first, we notice we’re now witnessing the rape. bella is unconscious and andrew is beginning to undress her. second, it’s at this moment nick comes out from behind a panel, revealing not only that he saw how drunk bella was, but that he saw andrew beginning to rape her and did nothing. third is that as bella is removed from the bed who takes her place? mj. mj takes the exact same position that bella was in, watching the assault on the floor below her in horror. and finally, the final punch to the whole scene, is that as the song comes to a close the panels cover the photos of bella once again for just a moment and when they move away, what’s left beneath are no longer pictures of bella. they’re pictures of mj. in the same position. just. heart-wrenching.

after the song we see mj really start to break down. she yells at nick, asking why he didn’t do anything, asking if he “forgot she (bella) was a human being.” nick is devastated and mj is just barely holding it together. truly stunning. but even still mj tells nick he still can’t say anything. she doesn’t want him to get in trouble, and losing her perfect son is still central in her mind.

[catsundercherryblossoms]

|Ch. 13: “Please”| Her Forgotten Past // Attack on Titan Fanfiction

"Green smoke. Oluo, pass it on."

The smoke flares stretched into the sky like strings of green yarn, unraveling with the open breeze. I observed them intensely, hair obscuring my face as my horse galloped at full speed.

Oluo obeyed the Corporal's orders and he took out his own flare. He shot it so that the other sections nearby could relay.

"I've come with a message, sir!" A soldier raced towards us on his horse, frantic and sweaty. "It appears the right wing spotters have been wiped out! The early warning network is compromised! One of you will need to relay the message down the line!"

I gasped, but amidst the pounding of the horses' hooves, it was barely audible.

"You heard the man, Petra. Go." Corporal Levi ordered with a nod.

"Yes, sir!" She took off.

I could hardly believe it. The right wing? A whole section of soldiers were conquered that quickly? On top of that, the right wing was where I was originally placed, making it even more unnerving. If I hadn't been switched to here, the most safest place in the formation... would I still be alive? Or would I just be bits and chunks left on the battlefield, indistinguishable from the other fallen soldiers?

A chill went through me. I shook it away and glared bitterly at Corporal Levi, who rode besides me. The unpleasant surprise from this morning still burned in my mind...

"Everyone gather your horses!" Commander Erwin said. "We will depart shortly!"

Soldiers scrambled all over HQ, getting prepared for what would be a very, very horrific day.

I went to the stables and found my horse, wasting no time in gearing up and hopping on the saddle. Once I trotted out, I headed towards a group of twelve or fifteen soldiers. 'They must be the right wing...' I thought, and was about to join them when—

"Archer."

I looked back over my shoulder to see Corporal Levi there, mighty and unusually tall on his horse. A little ways behind him, the squad and Eren were hurrying to get their horses ready.

"You're with us." He said and turned without waiting for a reply.

But I was going to give him one anyway. "I've been moved?" I gaped. "Why?"

"Just do as you're told, soldier."

"But that makes no sense!" I protested and galloped up to him. "I'll be completely useless with you guys! Why do you need me in the safest part of the formation? I should be out there where the titans are, putting my skills to work! Who made this change? I want to speak to whoever's in charge—"

"You're talking to him! I made the change. I switched you. And there's nothing you can do about it. Learn to roll with the punches, brat. Now come on, we're burning daylight."

A bitter taste turned my tongue. Okay, fine. If he hadn't changed my placement at the last minute, I'd maybe be dead. But there's also a chance that I might've made it out alive, and saved a few lives as well by helping out with the titans. The scales were 50/50. Either could've happened.

"Thats where Armin was placed." I heard Eren mutter behind me.

I refrained from cringing. Armin, in the right wing? Shit. "At this point, we can only hope for the best." I said emptily. But despite the solid exterior I was trying so hard to maintain, on the inside I was plenty anxious. This whole expedition was going to hell, and everyone knew it. Hopefully, the Commander would order a retreat back to the walls soon.

But I couldn't be more wrong. Twenty minutes passed and still no sign of retreat. By then Petra had already returned from relaying the message and assumed her spot next to me.

"What do you think is going on?" I asked her. "Why aren't we turning back?"

"I don't know, but there isn't much we can do. Our duty is to just follow orders and trust the ones in charge." She sighed bleakly.

"I suppose thats true. But it makes you wonder what's going through the Commander's head..." I said, trailing off as I surveyed the landscape. We had been told at the start of the expedition to keep a lookout no matter what position we were in, dangerous or not. When I looked at Petra again, I was a little startled to see she was staring at me already. I pretended not to notice and faced forwards. Maybe she was staring at something past me in the distance... but when I checked again, her eyes continued to analyze me.

"Um, is everything okay?" I asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

She snapped out of it. "Oh, sorry. I just... never mind." But her troubled gaze remained, focused on Corporal Levi this time, like she was immersed in a critical thought.

Whatever. I don't have the power to read minds. Besides, I'm sure it's just the ever-present anxiety of our current situation that's got her acting weird.

Ten more minutes of silence and uncertainty, and that's when something emerged in the distance.

"Sir," I spoke up, squinting at what appeared to be a mass of trees ahead of us. A forest. "Are we going in there?"

"Just follow me. And get closer together. The path is going to be narrow from here on." He said tonelessly.

Well... that wasn't exactly the answer I wanted. But as it turns out, I didn't need an answer from him anyway. My gut feeling was correct after all. Indeed, we were charging into the forest. Next thing I know I'm surrounded by verdant shades of greens and browns. The trees were so thick that they formed a canopy above us, blocking out all sunlight.

We continued in fragile, nervous silence. As I looked around, everyone wore confused expressions.

"Sir, come on." said Eren. "We won't see a titan until its right on top of us! Something's coming up on the right, isn't it? What are we supposed to do? Avoid titans, or defend the wagons?"

"Quit whining and move on from the obvious, already. None of those are an option anymore." Corporal Levi said.

I raised a jet-black eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Take a look around you. All these big ass trees. Perfect environment for ODM gear, don't you think? Now everyone calm down and just keep taking orders. The best survival tool is your brain."

What he said was true, as much as it pained me to admit it. But on the other hand... I also know that too much thinking and too much idleness can be bad. Reflex and quick action matters, too. Like pulling the plug in a sink, many deaths can escape down the drain if you don't react quickly enough to stop them.

What is this Titan anyway? An abnormal? It must be pretty powerful to have our plans this scrambled.

A popping sound. We looked up to see black smoke originating a mile or two behind us. Wait... a mile or two? How did it get so close? The damn monster will get here any minute now!

"Damn thing's been chasing our asses since the beginning!" Eld growled.

"Blades drawn, now!" The Corporal ordered, but I beat him to it. "It'll happen in the blink of an eye! Be ready!"

The whole world seemed to hold its breath. Patience is a virtue, they say. But waiting for what could possibly be your destruction is a tedious kind of torture. The seconds that turned into minutes were agonizing. Any moment now...

A soldier flew out of the trees. He hung suspended in air, alert and with a courageous heart.

I'll always remember him as the first brave soul to jump out, before he got brutally slapped aside by a giant hand. There was an inkling of red in the space where he once hung. But nothing more.

Her feet were the batons as they pounded on the ground like drums, running after us. Every aspect about her, from the skinless exterior to the frigid blue eyes, screamed murder. I had never seen a titan chase after a couple of humans with such ferocity. The desperation was clear as she tore down entire trees to clear the path. My heart palpitated faster and faster. I felt my pulse in my stomach, my throat, my ears, and even in the tips of my fingers as I clutched the reigns and urged my horse to go faster.

The female titan leapt towards Eren, reaching out to grab him.

"Eren, watch out!" I screamed.

He dodged it just in time, steering his horse closer to my side. Sweat dotted our foreheads. The whole squad struggled to make their horses go faster. Soldiers stationed in the trees tried jumping at the female titan, but they ended up dead. It was raining blood. This whole expedition was a blood bath. It angered me.

"Corporal!" Petra screamed.

"Its too dangerous, we're waiting on you!" Oluo said frantically.

"Corporal, your orders!" Gunther also shouted.

They looked conflicted. Why wasn't Corporal Levi letting them handle the situation? I could hear the screams of the soldiers behind us as they sacrificed their lives. But for what? Goddammit, what the hell is the Corporal's problem? Is he just going to let them die like this?

"Everyone." He finally spoke up after a long period of ignoring us. His steel eyes flashed. "Cover your ears."

He took out a canister similar to a flare. He raised it high in the air and pulled the trigger. We were too late to cover our ears, and the piercing sound that followed deafened everybody. Our heads felt like they were whacked by a hammer.

"An acoustic shell?" Eren said in surprise. Levi turned his head around to face us.

"Tell me, what is your job again? Is it to surrender to your emotions? No. This squad's mission is to do everything possible to keep this brat unharmed." Corporal Levi referred to Eren. "Till our last breath." He added, and faced forward again. My eyes widened. They were risking their own lives just to protect Eren? I can only imagine how horrible that must make him feel. "We will push ahead on horseback, got it?" Corporal Levi said with finality.

"Yes, sir!" They all responded.

Except me. "You're joking, right?"

The rest of the squad, including Eren, chastised me. But I could tell it was only superficial. Of course, a group of ass wipes like them would never turn down an opportunity to bow to their Corporal's orders. I bared my teeth at them. "Yeah, I said it! And I'm sure you're all thinking the same too! I mean, are we seriously going to allow this bloodbath to continue? You're supposed to be the best of the best! But look at you... You're running away. All it takes is the guts to turn our horses around and fight! Why is that so hard?"

"Know your place." Oluo said defensively.

Those words pierced me. I scrunched my eyebrows and looked behind me at the ongoing destruction. "You know what... I do know my place. And its at the heart of battle."

Their protests were nothing but failed attempts to get me to stop preparing my gear. I clenched the handgrips of my blades and aimed to shoot an anchor onto a nearby tree. I'll kill this bitch. No, I'll destroy her.

"Its better if you stay put! Even I recognize that— Johanna, please!" Eren looked at me pleadingly, his words drowning in and out thanks to the thundering footsteps coming up behind us. The moment was tense. Critical. If I didn't choose a perfect timing, I would probably end up like the others... nothing but red splotches. I focused on the trees as we rode past, shifting in my seat, ready to take off into the air any second.

"You're crazy!"

"Stand down, rookie!"

"JOHANNA!"

That last voice screamed just as I was about to fly off. Not only did it strike me as unexpected, but it also broke me out of my concentration. I growled and snapped my head towards him. "What?!"

It was... Corporal Levi. His eyes were slightly unnerved, staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. "Don't you dare."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go and kill that murder-machine." I said testily.

He struggled for a moment. His lips formed a straight line.

"Thats what I thought." I said, proceeding to activate my gear.

"Please."

Everyone looked at the Corporal, taking a second to feel surprised in this moment of chaos. I froze and looked up, thinking I heard wrong.

But he repeated it again. "Just... please." His face was unreadable but his tone held a pinch of emotion. I don't know what it meant. Maybe this god-forsaken expedition has him going crazy like the rest of us. The Corporal never begs... right?

Something inside me tethered me to the horse, and reluctantly, I shifted to sit correctly in the saddle again. The others let out sighs of relief. By the time I faced forwards again, the Corporal had also turned his gaze ahead, and there was no telling what was going through his mind now, or what he felt inside.

It happened so suddenly that I wasn't able to process it until we were way past the scene. First, it was a flicker in the corner of my eye. A sliver of the situation. Cannons? Did I just see cannons in the trees?

Then the explosion. Branches shuddered and leaves fell. Smoke billowed behind us, but we never stopped fleeing. But from what? There was nothing there, I noticed as I glanced behind us, along with everyone else. The confusion was shared.

Oh. Oh.

We had a plan all along.

Well, technically not we. Our superiors did.

Relief spread across the group. I looked at Eren, smiled a little, and then looked at the back of the Corporal's head. So... he actually knew what he was doing all along. Why did he have to be so vague?

But the real question is... why didn't he tell us, especially his own squad?

I don't know why, but even though we captured the female titan, a sense of unease lurked over me. Our problems aren't finished yet.

*  *  *

"Wait, let me get this straight..." I said, "Every soldier that died out there... Every single one of them... they were simply martyrs so that we could capture this female titan?"

Eld nodded. "It seems so."

Eren, who stood next to me on this large tree branch, furrowed his brows. "That's... well, thats... I have no words. But don't you think Commander Erwin made the wrong choice?"

"Yeah, I mean, think about it..." I said indignantly. "He was willing to sacrifice all those soldiers on a gamble? A gamble with way too many risks? What if something went wrong? What if we didn't catch the female titan? Not only would they have died, they would've died in vain!"

"You two don't know this yet, Eren and Jo, but one day you'll know why Erwin was entrusted with the Scout Regiment." Günther said reverently.

As much as I admired the Commander, I took this with a grain of salt. One day, huh? Hopefully, I'll live long enough to know.

"By the way, you really should practice self restraint, Miss I-want-to-save-us-all." Eren said scornfully. "You're worse than me! What if you had died trying to kill that female titan? Hm?"

"Oh, please. You're making me sound self-righteous. I'm not Jean. And I wouldn't have died. I could've easily taken her on and spared a couple lives." I huffed.

Eren watched me intensely. "Don't you get it? Those other soldiers probably thought the same. Now look where they are. Not here!"

I felt my defensive get... well, defensive. I didn't like being reprimanded. Growing up, I was never told what was wrong and what was right, what was safe and what was dangerous. I didn't have anyone to tell me. So I just went ahead and did things and judged for myself based on the outcome. That's how it's always been, and how it always will be... right?

"Lay off, will you?" I said prickly. "So what if I did die? Big deal, soldiers die every day! I'll just be another number on a statistic. Nothing new."

Eren seemed taken aback. I could vaguely feel the other's gazes on us, but I ignored them, instead choosing to focus on my spoken words. Damn... in the moment, it just slipped out. But honestly, I didn't know I felt that way until now. The statement felt raw and true. Does this mean... I have nothing to live for?

Well, technically, that's incorrect. I sort of do. I still want to help humanity defeat the titans. But in retrospect, I guess that's just my purpose until I die. I don't have anything that makes me want to avoid dying. Nothing to make me stop and think, 'Damn, I really want to keep on living as long as possible'. If I had died today in this expedition, I still would've served my purpose. My death would've been one of many martyrs pushing the Survey Corps to do better, to keep moving forwards, to never give up, and not let us die in vain. In short, it would've been motivation. So yes, my purpose would've been very much served.

However, a reason to avoid dying... the concept seemed foreign to me.

"Is this how you view life? Seriously? If someone tries to take away your life, you're just going to buckle and say 'okay'?" Eren said in disbelief. Then, his expression hardened. I could see the muscle in his jaw clench. "I say that's crazy talk. Johanna, you're not just a number on a statistic. You're so much more. And if I lost you I'd... I'd..." He trailed off.

Oh... I looked down at my feet, stuck in an awkward spot between uncomfortable and flattered. I didn't think he felt that way. Of course, I feel the same way too. Anyone would. Nobody wants to see their friend die...

But somehow my mind was tricking me into thinking maybe... he meant more than just losing a friend. More important. Tied and bound with stronger feelings than the traditional, ordinary feelings one would have for a friend.

Maybe, I thought of him that way too.

Holy shit, I'm out of my fucking mind...

When I looked up again, Eren was looking to the side, cheeks ever so slightly pink. We stood awkwardly, with me brushing a lock of hair behind my ear and shifting my feet, trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

"Well? What made you stay?"

I looked at him again, surprised. "Um," I thought back to the Corporal, the almost worried look in his eyes, and the way he spoke that single word... "I've never heard the Corporal say please before. It doesn't seem like a word he just blurts out whenever. Or, I don't know... forget it. Maybe I'm just using that as an excuse because I shit my pants at the last minute."

That made him laugh. I smiled a little.

I heard whispering and I looked at the others, who were standing apart from Eren and I on the other end of the branch. The deja vu was instant. Just like how Petra had been staring at me earlier, all four of them were now staring at me collectively. It appeared as though I had caught them in the middle of a conversation.

I folded my arms. Once was understandable. But twice? Now that's just shady. "What?"

"Nothing." Petra shook her head, smiling nervously.

"No, seriously— what is it? You've been acting weird around me all day. Do you know something? Care to share it with me?"

Damn right they knew something. It was clear in their faces, no matter how much they tried to deny it. Something was up. But before I could interrogate them about it, a flare sound cut me off.

The streak of blue tore into the sky, rising high above the trees. Blue meant withdrawal. Withdrawal meant... returning to the walls. Safety.

A knot I didn't know I had in my chest loosened. Finally.

"That was quick. I guess they know who the female titan is..." I said as we dove off the tree, flying off on our ODM gear. The wind tousled my hair. I was overcome with a weightless feeling as I swung from tree to tree with my comrades. They chatted along the way, but I zoned out for most of it, wondering what would come next. We had our enemy, now what? The person is obviously a shifter like Eren. Will they be put on trial? No, wait— reel it back, Johanna. One thing at a time. The most pressing question right now is...

Who made it out of this expedition alive?

I shuddered at the possibility of my friends' absence on the journey back to the walls. No— get a grip. They're fine. Everything will turn out fine. We're going to return to the walls now, rest and probably have a cup of tea, and perhaps I'll finally unveil the reason behind Squad Levi's strange behavior around me.

"Oluo, Petra! For someone who wet themselves the first time, you've really come a long way!" Eld said and smirked.

That comment was enough to pull me out of my thoughts, and I laughed. Petra, on the other hand, screamed in embarrasment. Eren looked at her as though this was the most amused he'd felt in a while.

"I thought we agreed never to speak of it again!" Petra wailed angrily.

"How dare you!" Oluo exclaimed. "I have the highest kill count in this whole squad! Ha, imbecile."

Eld wasn't having it. "If you want to hide that stain behind your kill count, be my guest!"

"Shut your hole!"

"Wait, so did you spray in mid air?" Eren asked him, making things worse. Everyone laughed. Except Petra and Oluo, of course.

"Enough, enough. No one cares who pissed their pants. Just focus on getting back to Corporal Levi. Oh, and for the record, my pants have always been dry." Günther said.

A flare went off to my right. Green, meaning someone was giving us their location. Most likely the Corporal.

"I'll take this one, guys." I said and separated from the group for a few minutes, landing on a branch. I raked my fingers through my messy hair and took out the flare, shooting it straight towards the sky. Another green streak to accompany the one already present. Now the Corporal knew where we were. I headed back towards the group.

Not ten minutes later, someone popped up between the trees. They followed us closely. The hood of their cloak hid their face completely, making it impossible to identify them.

But I knew one thing for sure.

It was definitely not Corporal Levi.

End of Chapter 13

[runaway-fiction]

I Love You Too (Liam x MC x Drake)

A/N: This fic is a continuation/re-appropriation of the The Royal Romance sections of my two-part crossover fic “This Doesn’t Mean Anything”. If you are interested in a TRR x ES crossover, please see those fanfics. This one, however, can be read as a standalone. (UPDATE: this has now become a multi-part series. Please see my Masterlist for the subsequent parts). This is all angsty angsty angst until the end, when my usual irrepressible smut comes through in true runaway-fiction fashion. 

This fic picks up right near the end of The Royal Romance Book 2 and continues into Book 3. I wanted to explore the Liam x MC x Drake dynamic more, and celebrate the love these three characters have for one another. (Also I wanted a scene where Liam and Drake work out together, because reasons). My MC’s name is Amelia Alvarez. Rated R for language and sexual content. 18+ only please. Thank you and please enjoy!

“I broke off the engagement.”

Drake paused in his set, nearly dropping the bar on his sternum as Liam failed to spot him again as he did bench presses. He took a moment before responding, hiding the tightening corners of his mouth with a gulp of water. He knew what this meant.

“Yeah?” Drake asked, not meeting Liam’s eyes. Liam nodded. “You broke it off with Madeline?”

“Yes. I think regardless of my feelings for Amelia, I would have broken off the engagement with Madeline anyways.”

“Really? Why?”

Liam sighed. “She’s rather…unstable.”

Drake gave a hollow laugh, but Liam didn’t seem to notice. “Hell, I could’ve told you that.”

“You did. Many times. But seeing for myself, I knew I had to wait until Amelia’s name was cleared. After all, Madeline herself could have been involved.”

“She still somehow was, I’m sure,” said Drake darkly. He and Liam both headed towards the free weights. Grabbing 45 pound dumbbells for Liam he corrected Liam’s form so that his shoulders balanced squarely above his hips, his feet planted parallel to each other.

“Good. 3 sets, 25 reps, go.” After Liam’s sets, Drake picked up his own dumbbells at 50. 

“Pushing hard this morning, are you Drake?”

“Oh, you know…” huffed Drake in between reps, “…curls…Hrr…for the girls.” Liam chuckled, then grew thoughtful. 

“How about you, Drake? I’ve been so busy on this damn tour I haven’t gotten a chance to think, let alone check in with you. Are you seeing anyone?”

Drake nearly dropped the dumbbells. Struggling to breathe, he stopped mid-set.

“You all right?” asked Liam. Drake hastily gulped some water again. 

“Yeah just…got a cramp…Anyways…yeah, I don’t know. I have my eye on someone, but I…” he looked at his friend’s face. He lost his nerve. There was no way he could lie to Liam. His integrity wouldn’t let him. They had been through too much. He had been waiting for a chance to tell him what was going on with him and Amelia, and now that Liam was technically single again, Drake had to come clean. 

“Drake, you’re acting strangely. What’s going on?” asked Liam, now concerned. Drake sighed and sat down heavily on the mat, looking up at Liam.

“I’m in love with Amelia, Liam.” 

Shock, then hurt and betrayal splayed across Liam’s face. He stood frozen. 

“What did you say? Did you say you’re in love with Amelia?” Liam asked. Drake nodded, his face full of regret.

“Ah. I see.” Liam looked away and then back at Drake. After a moment, he sat down next to Drake on the mat. 

“I’m sorry, Liam, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Drake said, his head in his hands. “I knew what was going on, that you didn’t really love Madeline, and that Amelia still loved you. I tried to stay away, I swear. But since for all intents and purposes you were engaged, Amelia and I began to spend time together, first as friends, and then…”

“Lovers?” asked Liam, looking up. Drake shook his head.

“We haven’t had sex if that’s what you’re wondering,” Drake answered. Liam nodded.

“I understand.”

“You do?” asked Drake, surprised. Liam sighed.

“Yes, I do. Amelia is a modern, beautiful young woman from New York. She’s different from all the women at court. In hindsight, if I hadn’t met her first and fallen for her, I’m thinking now I probably would have tried to set you up with her. She’s exactly your type.” Liam said, smiling wryly. Drake groaned, leaning back onto the mat, covering his face.

“Ugh, man, how did this happen?” asked Drake through his fingers. 

“How did we fall for the same woman? Well, Amelia, she’s perfect,” stated Liam matter-of-factly.

“Perfect?” Drake scoffed. “Hardly! She’s stubborn, naïve, and entirely too nice to make it at court. She’ll get eaten alive. She’s a frustrating woman.” 

“Hmm. I think that’s where you and I differ, my friend. I find no fault in her.”

“But Liam,” said Drake earnestly, “You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

“See anything wrong with not finding anything wrong with her? …No.”

Now it was Drake’s turn to sigh. “I suppose that’s why you’re the only two people I really trust…you’re both just decent people at heart. I don’t want either of you getting hurt. And Liam you’re tough, but Amelia…”

“Amelia’s tough too.”

“Yeah. So was my dad. So was your mom.” Liam looked at Drake.

“I see.” The skin around Liam’s eyes had tightened.

“Ah, Liam, I’m sorry.”

“No, it is I that needs to be sorry.”

“You? What could you possibly—?”

“I’m going to ask her to marry me, Drake.” Drake froze. 

“Tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Drake could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He tried to keep his countenance impassive, but he knew his face betrayed every iota of fear and jealousy he felt. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Drake gruffly. His voice took on a softer tone. “I’m happy for you Liam, I am.”

Liam shook his head. “I can see that this will be difficult. Choosing between your broken heart and mine is not something I relish in. So, in asking Amelia to marry me…she’ll—”

“She’ll have to choose between us,” finished Drake. 

“Precisely,” said Liam softly. 

“I suppose that’s the way it should be.”

After a moment, Liam got up. He extended a hand to Drake. He sighed and accepted, but held onto Liam’s hand. They met eyes.

“Brothers?” he asked. Liam nodded.

“No matter what,” agreed Liam, clapping Drake on the back with his free hand.

They left the gym together, heading into the early New York rush of traffic. They knew that whichever way the day unfolded it would hurt somehow, but Drake felt a measure of relief that at least they could always count on each other. 

———

Following Liam and Amelia to the Statue of Liberty was a horrible idea. Drake knew he should have given them privacy, but he needed to see who Amelia would choose. He had a sinking feeling in his heart that he knew exactly who she would choose (Liam was offering her a kingdom, after all), but he had to know. He had to see for himself. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep from doing something stupid if he found out in front of their friends that she had chosen Liam (his best friend and king, Liam) over him.

He knew he had told her that he wasn’t a possessive guy, but he didn’t know if that was true anymore. He supposed he could always sleep with her on the side, as was Cordonian custom, but he never thought that might be an arrangement that would work for him. But then again, he had never fallen for a noble, let alone a royal, and she was about to become second only to Liam in the kingdom. The arrangement would likely be the only way he would get to be with her if she accepted Liam’s proposal.

He peered through the trees. Bastien, as a personal favor, allowed him to be there. He knew Drake would never harm Liam or Amelia. Drake’s breath caught in his chest when he saw them come into view, walking arm in arm.

She looked exquisite. Her hair fell in dark tresses down her bare back, kept out of her face by her customary braid. The beaded gray dress she was wearing hugged her in all the right places. Drake’s heart sank. The way she was looking at Liam, her dark eyes glowing in the moonlight, did not bode well for him.

He watched as his best friend held the woman he loved in his arms, watched as they kissed, holding each other close against the night air’s chill. He heard Liam’s whistle as he called Amelia’s corgi, Apple, his short legs waddling over with a tiny box jingling from his collar. Even Drake could admit despite his growing apprehension, that his friend was a damnably, brilliantly romantic man.

As Liam got down on one knee, asking her the question which Drake dreaded, the lights of New York City twinkling behind their silhouettes, it was Amelia’s shocked stare and then exuberant cry that told him once and for all, which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

The regret of never knowing what it would be like to really be with her, to touch her as his own, to build a future with her hit him like a punch in the gut. Never before had Drake known such crushing disappointment. He felt as though the pit of his stomach was curling from poison.

He turned away. He couldn’t bear to see Liam place that ridiculously enormous royal engagement ring on her finger, couldn’t bear to think of Liam taking Amelia’s hand, leading her up to the Statue of Liberty and making love to her, doing all the things that Drake dreamed he could do. Something in him had broken. Even worse, he feared that something between him and Liam had broken too. He never doubted that he loved Liam like the brother he never had, he thought a life of being in Liam’s shadow was something he had accepted completely. But losing Amelia to him was the final straw. He needed time, he needed to escape. He wanted to run away from everything that reminded him of Liam, Amelia, or Cordonia.

But everywhere he turned, he saw her. In every corner, in every landmark, the ghosts of her smile haunted him. He found himself in Times Square, thousands of people streamed past him.

A drink, he thought, Fucking hell I need a drink. But he couldn’t even think about whiskey without thinking about the bottle he had shared with her in the Nevrakis cellar or their drinking game in Paris . He remembered how relaxed he felt around her, how natural it felt to pour whiskey into her glass and let words spill out of his mouth to her. He remembered the feeling of her lips, pressed hotly against his in the bar booth, how badly he wanted to slide his hand up her tight black dress, feeling her throbbing center…

“Drake?”

They were on the train back to Cordonia. He had spent most of the return trip in his cabin, and even Maxwell knew to steer clear of him. He had come out to the main area for the first time in days to have breakfast with Liam and Amelia so that they could announce their engagement. Drake hadn’t seen either of them since he followed them to the Statue of Liberty that night, but they knew he knew.

Amelia had tried to meet his eyes across the table but he stayed focused on the empty space in between her and Liam’s head. Night had fallen again and he had ventured out into the main car so he could have a drink in silence. But of course here she was, his name in her mouth, dressed in clothes that suited her, not the sparkly ballgowns and ridiculous headdresses that so often accompanied royal events. He looked sidelong at her left hand, seeing it glitter from the enormous jewel weighing on her finger.

“Alvarez,” he said, acknowledging her only by lifting his glass to his lips, “Shouldn’t you be with Liam?”

She sighed, then seemed to steel herself.

“Cut the shit, Drake.”

He looked around at her, surprised. Before he could help it, he was staring into those big, dark eyes. Fuck, he thought. She had him again. He tore his gaze away from hers, setting him mouth into a hard line.

“What shit?”

“We need to talk.”

He did not want to talk. He got up to pour himself another drink. She followed him, stopping only a few feet away.

“I don’t really know what it is we need to talk about,” he said gruffly, avoiding her gaze. She crossed her arms.

“You do. You do know.”

“Inform me.”

“Us, Drake, us. We need to talk about us.”

He slammed the bottle onto the bar.

“There is no us,” he hissed.

She widened her eyes at the loud noise but didn’t even flinch.

“Well there could have been.”

“And how is that exactly, when you have my king and my best friend’s ring on your finger?”

“You know that there is something between us, Drake.”

“We’ve kissed, so what? It apparently didn’t stop you from getting engaged did it?”

“Well it apparently didn’t stop you from pretending like nothing happened! Liam told me, Drake.”

He looked round at her.

“Liam told you what exactly?” His eyes bore into hers.

“He told me you loved me.”

“Yeah? And what good that all did!”

“You stubborn asshole! Liam told me you loved me but you never did.”

Drake froze. Her eyes shone with tears, red around the rims. He looked away.

“So? What does that matter now?”

“Drake, what did you think was going to happen? I knew you had some feelings for me but you always held back. Liam…Liam told me he loved me, I knew exactly how he felt about us. But you…I never knew. What was I supposed to think?”

“You did know, you had to…” Drake muttered, but her words were causing him to shake.

“I can’t read your mind, Drake!” she cried, throwing up her hands. She began to pace, agitated. 

“I left New York, entered some weird royal competition in a foreign country, then got my privacy invaded and plastered all over Cordonian news. I gave up my whole life to be here, Drake. Were you expecting me to reject Liam, a person you know I care for, all for you, a man who won’t fight for me? Who will kiss me and tell me to be with his best friend, but won’t tell me he loves me? How can I say yes and risk it all for someone who may just leave me? I’ve been in too many relationships, Drake Walker, where someone has wanted me and once he had me, once it came time to be serious, he was gone. When I said you were more my type, ages ago when we were flying to Cordonia together? It’s probably because you remind me of exactly all those guys who would desire me and desire me but never do anything about it!”

He had never seen her so angry. He wanted to block out her words but hope had begun to stream into his being, a hope that he thought he had killed in himself the last few days mixing with his own rage. He hated this effect she had on him. Amelia strode up right to him, her eyes glittering with frustration.

“I don’t give a fuck that Liam is offering me a kingdom, I could fucking care less!” she said angrily, “What I care about is that I know he loves me and that he wants to make me his wife, and that I care for him in return. So you can act like this about Liam being king and me choosing a kingdom but you had a choice too Drake. And you chose wrong!”

“I chose wrong?” Drake asked her, hands gesturing at himself, “I chose wrong?”

“Yes, you did,” she poked a finger in his chest, eyes never leaving his.

“Enlighten me, Alvarez,” he growled, “How exactly did I choose wrong?”

“You chose not to be real with me. You chose not to tell me you loved me.”

“And if I had it, would it have made a difference?” he asked her, his voice raising.

“Yes, it would have!” she yelled, balling her hands into fists.

They both stopped, eyes still locked onto each other.

“It…it would have…?” Drake asked her uncertainly.

“I…” Amelia’s eyes were widened in panic. She turned away from him, retreating to the center of the room. “Never mind Drake…we both made our choices. It was mistake to have come here.” She raised a hand to push her hair out her face, the engagement ring gleaming in the moonlight. She looked around to leave.

“Amelia.”

She stopped. He saw that tears had begun to fall from her eyes. She bit her lip.

“Drake…Drake don’t…”

“I love you. I’m an idiot. I should have told you sooner.”

“Oh Drake…”

And as he reached to wipe the tears from her face, they came together in the dark train car as it moved through the mountains, the moon’s silvery rays resting on her beautiful face as he kissed her, feverishly, trying to pour into his kiss every ounce of passion he felt for her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and never let her go.

Drake buried his hand in her dark hair, he wrapped his other arms to press her close to him. He felt something profound move within him, his heart seemed fit to burst.

He loved her. He knew and she knew. It was all he could have asked for. He didn’t know what the future held but right now, only her lips moving against his, her arms around his neck, mattered.

——

“Good morning darling,” he said as Amelia moved next to him. He placed an arm gently around her naked body beneath the sheets.

They were in the royal bed, the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. She smiled. “Good morning, my love,” she said sleepily. ”Are we late for something?”

“Not right now.” He began to kiss her neck. She arched her body closer to him, arousing him. They made love for hours last night but even now he was not sated in his desire for her. He threaded one hand through her dark hair, pulling it slightly in the way that she liked so that he could suck on the tender skin underneath her jaw. The other hand drifted down her belly and then lower, eliciting a moan

“Liam…” she said, “again?”

“Oh most certainly,” and he entered her from behind as she gave a sexy moan. He moved against her, delving into her wet heat, pushing against her perfect ass, arms around her throat as he pulled himself into her. She opened her legs and turned so she could kiss him as he rubbed her clit.

“Oh God, Liam, yes…” she whispered.

He moved faster, “Ah, I love you Amelia,” he panted as he came inside of her and she cried out as she came as well, her sex contracting around his in a way that made him groan aloud.

“Oh, oh Liam, I love you too…”

——

Drake gasped as she mounted him. Her breasts gleamed in the low candlelight.

“Oh yes, babe, that’s…” but he could barely speak as she began to grind against him. He held her waist as she moved, each movement bringing him closer to his inevitable end. She was just as fantastic in bed as he imagined on nights he was alone. She was passionate, moaning his name as he took control, thrusting up into her. Her nails dug into his back. He flipped her underneath him as he began to push into her, groaning as the angle of the bed allowed him to penetrate her deeply.

“Drake! Oh, fuck, yes, right there!” she cried. He didn’t stop until her pussy contracted all around him and she orgasmed in his arms, he pulled out to explode on her breasts but she surprised him by taking it all in her mouth, swiftly meeting his dick to swallow his cum.

He collapsed on the bed next to her.

“You’re amazing, Your Highness,” he said, breathing heavily with a laugh.

She rolled over to him.

“Not ‘Your Highness’ to you Drake Walker.” She kissed him on the cheek. Her eyes were full of laughter.

“Fine. Amelia when we’re making love, and Alvarez when we’re…” and he smacked her bottom as she reacted with a yelp.

“Drake!” she chided. Amelia checked the time on her diamond watch. She groaned. “Ugh, I have to go. The Italian delegate arrives in the morning and I need to go over my notes.”

“So you can’t stay over tonight?”

“I wish I could, but duty calls.” She began to dress. He looked at her with a smile.

“Hey, Alvarez.”

“Hmm?” she asked, looking up.

“I love you.”

Amelia smiled at him.

“I love you too.”

“Tell Liam I said hi.”

“Of course. He’ll meet you in the gym at 5 am.”

“Good night, Alvarez.”

“Good night, Drake.”

And off she went into the night, the love of his life, to serve Liam and the kingdom of Cordonia, body and soul, just as he had his entire life. All was as it should be.  

Please see my Masterlist for more Choices fanfiction! :)

[fabermemorialrink]

some mistake, part 7

Last part of chapter two! Chowder’s back, and we meet some new friends!

Also, a quick PSA: if I ever screw up with regards to race/gender/sexuality (or anything else), please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can do better! I want everyone to have a positive reading experience. Thanks!!

Chowder’s reaction to Dex bleeding on his shoes was a complex cocktail of fascination and disturbed worry: the cherry on top of a very informative face journey that Derek studied like visual poetry as Dex caught him up to speed. Like Derek, Chowder emphatically refused to stop visiting, which they proved so often that Dex had to kick them out after they skipped a team game night.

More often than not, Derek and Chowder head over to see Dex together, though there are times when one of them is too busy with work to go. Derek loves being part of a trio, but he also appreciates the time he gets to spend with each of his friends individually. Chowder’s roomie is often out and about socializing, so Derek takes to setting up a base camp on C’s floor, where they study and philosophize together. Most questions are open-ended and profound (who would win in a fight, Mr. Rogers or Elmo? would you rather sleep on legos or have a splinter in your tongue?), but the most important question of all cycles back into rotation every few days:

What’s up with Dex and the forest?

Chowder thinks it’s better not to prod, but Derek can’t leave it alone. It’s a secret, but the kind that Dex is willing to entertain guesses about. He archly shoots down Derek’s suggestions that he might be a woodland nymph like the girls, and repeatedly insists that if he had any kind of therianthropy, he would have already shifted and eaten one of Derek’s limbs in annoyance.

It comes up again in conversation when Derek’s helping Dex cut up invasive vines again. Knowing that the forest is alive puts this activity in a new light; Dex tells him that he knows which plants belong to the woods, and which ones the forest considers a threat, so Derek just follows suit and rips out the roots he’s instructed to. There was a lingering uneasiness at the thought of touching the plants again at first, but they’re in the outer ring, where the light filters in, and Dex promises that if anything tries to grab Derek again, he’ll hatchet it right off. Maybe he should be more freaked out, but he can almost feel the truce between himself and the forest now. At the very least, Dex’s presence always makes him feel at ease.

“How’s it going? Not too tough for your delicate poet’s hands, is it?” Dex calls over across the grove. The sleeves of his plaid shirt have been rolled up, and his hatchet and lantern have been put aside next to Derek’s calc homework that Dex was looking over - dangling from the lantern’s wire handle are his crab keychain and a small bottle filled with a rainbow of miniscule origami lucky stars that Chowder gifted him. There’s dirt all over Dex’s knees and hands, but his posture is loose and he seems content. It's a good look for him.

Derek makes an obscene gesture in his direction. Dex wholeheartedly refuses to believe that Derek would ever drop his gloves during a game, citing Derek’s chill masquerade and elegant piano student fingers which would surely shatter on some goon’s cheekbones. Derek’s not big on fighting either, but he resents the implication that he couldn’t at least hold his own to defend his teammates.

“What, you wanna have a go at me?” Dex says with a grin, straightening up to his full height, which is still obnoxiously taller than Derek.

Derek snorts, kicking a clump of roots and dirt toward him. “Don’t go crying to Chowder when I whoop your ass, you skinny bastard.”

“Right, like you wouldn’t trip over your own head while trying to throw a punch. I’m not going to fight you, pretty boy.”

The way he says those words isn’t much different from the Wicked Witch of the West calling Dorothy ‘my pretty,’ but it causes a curl of embarrassment in Derek’s stomach anyway. Dex does this sometimes - calls Derek pretty in that wry tone of his. But it’s not pointedly sarcastic, like the way he gets when he’s intentionally needling Derek about rich people stuff, so Derek is left wondering what it’s supposed to mean. He knows he has nice eyes, and that he’ll hopefully grow into the good facial features he inherited from his parents, but currently, he’s just kind of plain, and full of teenage awkward. Nothing close to pretty.

Still, when Dex says it with a hint of smile Derek’s dumb guts do a strange twisting thing where he thinks they might turn inside out, accompanied by a tightness in his chest from being put on the spot. Not chill. But it's probably good for him to get it out of his system now, in preparation for the far future when someone really does compliment him so he doesn't look like a total loser.

Still, it always gives him a second of pause, throwing a hiccup into his thought process and leaving him scrambling for words, like now. “Are you a witch?” he winds up asking, apropos of nothing, still stuck on the thought of Dex zooming around on a broomstick and cursing young girls from Kansas.

“Am I a witch,” Dex repeats, raising an eyebrow. Derek almost goes to change the subject, then thinks on it a moment, and decides he actually does want to hear the answer to this.

“Yeah, or a wizard? Or whatever the preferred terminology is.”

Dex’s brow wrinkles, and he shakes his head like Derek is a particularly foolish child. “I’m not a witch, Nursey. Where’d you get that idea from?”

“Never mind. Are you a cryptid?”

“What-”

“Animals or creatures known only through anecdotal evidence, like the sasquatch, or-”

“I know what a fuckin’ cryptid is, you dope, but I’m not some kind of goat man-”

Derek chuckles at the expression Dex is sporting. He looks utterly offended. “I was thinking more like the Dover Demon? Glowing orange eyes, weird-ass hands…”

“You’re dead to me,” Dex laughs. And he pointedly ignores Derek for the next ten minutes until Derek literally jumps on him. He successfully catches him, arms wrapped tight around Derek’s middle, but keels over when his knees give out.

So, no progress on that end, but Derek isn’t going to forget about it anytime soon.

Winter is wild and blustery this year, and Dex decides they can’t meet his friends until after all the snow has passed. Derek tries asking a few times, but Dex always buries his face in Derek’s latest history essay and starts commenting loudly in order to ignore him. There finally comes a day in February where Derek and Chowder show up on Dex’s figurative doorstep bundled to the nines and freshly brewed bribery hot chocolate. The snow isn’t anything more than a crisp flatbread layer under their boots (which Dex has also bled all over) but he still glares crossly at them nonetheless, trying to shoo them back to the dorms until they force feed him some hot chocolate.

“Dex. Bro. French Vanilla Truffle. Extra marshmallows.”

“Alright, fine, fine, get in here.” Dex finally concedes after he swallows three boiling marshmallows whole.

They stop by a spring that begins in the inner ring, though the other end of the water seems to disappear into a haze of shade and foliage. The water is frosted over in shattered panes of ice; Dex crouches down at the embankment and cards his fingers through the weeds as he peers under the surface, but stands shortly after and waves them along.

“She’s not in right now. We’ll have to catch her another day,” he says, and switches on his lantern.

Derek and Chowder link arms when they enter the heart, taking care to follow Dex carefully. Today, the heart is less terrifying, giving off just an aura of general unwelcomeness, but Dex’s steps are sure as ever, like he’s walked this unmarked non-path over the roots and through the maze of trunks a thousand times. They have to readjust to the wildlife noises again, but what’s even weirder is the sound that Derek finally notices coming out of Dex.

It starts off as a kind of uneven hum, but builds up to faint words he can hear when he concentrates.

“Interplanet Janet, she's a galaxy girl…”

“Are you singing Schoolhouse Rock?” Derek asks, trying not to sound as horribly giddy as he feels. He can get Dex to sing with him sometimes: mostly classic rock and Beyonce and pop hits from the mid-aughts. But Dex rarely begins on his own, no matter how much Derek waxes lyrical about his nice voice, which aggrieves Derek to no end.

Dex freezes for a split second, then keeps walking like it never happened. “Uh. It’s been stuck in my head for a while.” Probably since Chowder first started complaining about his independent science paper about new planets, Derek guesses.

“Oh, the grammar ones are the best! I like the adverb song,” Chowder says, starting to hum the starting notes.

Derek can practically see the shock of discomfort running through Dex’s spine, like electricity through a live wire. “It’s catchy, but a little too barbershop for me…”

“Oh my god, they’re not even a quartet,” Derek says in exasperation.

“Still…”

“What about Conjunction Junction?” C suggests next, which Dex agrees easily too, and then they’re off, Dex in a pitchy falsetto and Chowder’s tenor lowered to a raspy growl. Derek holds his breath, not trusting himself not to say something dumb and provoke them into stopping. Chowder has a way of getting Dex to do things that Derek never could in a hundred lifetimes, probably because C has secret mutant powers of persuasiveness and friendship and undetectable bullshittery.

Their duet continues into “Do the Circulation,” complete with Chowder spinning Dex around on his arm in a sloppy swing-dance, and Derek curses the forest gods and anyone else listening for not letting his fucking phone work out here, because when else will he ever get the chance to record this masterpiece? They both just look so charmingly happy, and Derek’s heart swells with it.

He almost forgets where they are until the darkness lightens slightly and the smog of flora opens up into a tiny clearing with a cottage nestled right in the center. It’s the very picture of a stereotypical fairy-tale cottage, covered in climbing ivy and magenta blossoms, built of gray stonework and wooden accents, complete with curved roof tiles and wall mounted lanterns that light the area with a homey glow.

“Uh,” Chowder says, mouth falling open. “So how many houses are hidden in this pocket dimension forest?”

“Not as many as you think,” Dex says, releasing Chowder’s arm, and turning to make sure he doesn’t lose Derek before they enter the house. “Bits? You home? I brought my friends,” he calls, rapping his knuckles against the heavy wood door.

“Come on in!” comes the response, with a slight southern lilt.

Dex pushes the door open and lets the other two in first. The inside is just as adorably quaint as expected from the outside, with a fireplace in the den, cacti on the windowsills and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and an enormous kitchen where a very busy blond is hustling back and forth, his arms cradling a glass bowl. The scent of peaches and sugar fills the brightly lit room, and Dex directs Derek and C to sit on a plump gingham couch in front of the fire. Right after they sit, Derek catches sight of three strange objects bobbing their way through the air toward them.

“Um,” Derek says. “I’m not imagining that, right?” He elbows Chowder, who turns to gape at what is apparently a few glasses of iced tea floating their way.

“Y’all like tea, don’t you? And I don’t mean that gritty, bitter nonsense you serve up here-”

“Sweet tea sounds great,” Derek says automatically as a glass settles into his confused hands. Dex catches his own, and guides the last glass into Chowder’s grasp, the other boy being too dazed still to do anything but stare in the direction of the kitchen, where whisks and butter and sugar are spinning in a waltz around Bitty. On the counter, peaches fall neatly into segments, pits falling to the side. Flour begins threading through the air like a curtain of snowfall, obscuring their sight for a moment before it settles down into his bowl, the whisk still dancing.

“Thanks, Bitty,” Dex says, jolting Chowder back to reality. He calls out a thanks as well, before chugging half his glass in one go, and sinking deeper into the couch.

Derek sips slowly at the tea in silence as he starts to piece together the scene before them. Flying objects usually means magic. And magic means...

“Wait a second- Bitty’s a witch? Didn’t you say witches didn’t exist?” he asks, whirling on Dex, who’s leaning casually against the wall.

Dex and Bitty share a look, then a short laugh at Derek’s expense. “I just said I wasn’t a witch. You made your own inferences from that. Wrong ones.”

Bitty shakes his head, sending his bowl to settle gently on the counter with a wave of his hand. “Oh, Dex, you didn’t tell them? Wait just a second, I’ll be right over,” he says while hurrying to wash his hands at the sink.

“Nah, Bits, I thought maybe you’d wanna show ‘em yourself. Though, I think you kinda already have.”

Dex smiles briefly as Bitty dashes around his kitchen in a flurry, before turning back to Derek, who makes meaningful Eye Contact with him, but all he does is scrunch his mouth and shrug.

“What?” he mouths silently back, and Derek throws his hands in the air. Chowder continues to be slowly absorbed by the couch.

Bitty finally arrives, holding three pies in his arms. “Now, Dex never did tell me what your favorite pies are, so we’ll have to make do with these for today, but I promise I'll have something special for you boys next time you come around.” He places the pies - French silk, lemon meringue, and apple - on the table, then waves his hand absently toward the kitchen, summoning plates and silverware.

“I didn't want you flipping out and making a thousand pies. You know you always over-bake when you know guests are coming. Anyway, it's rhubarb for Nursey and honey walnut for Chowder.”

In short order, Derek and Chowder learn that Bitty is much, much older than looks, definitely a witch, and quite possibly the greatest piemaker in all of New England. Bitty preens under their compliments, and has no trouble answering the barrage of questions they pelt him with, or dodging them with practiced southern flair, but he’s much more interested in learning about “Dex’s darling little friends.”

Dex has to finally excuse them so they can leave the forest before it gets dark, but they don’t escape without each of them taking a pie for the road and the promise to return again soon. Bitty starts rattling off all the sweaters and birthday mini pies they’re going to get, and Dex has to physically drag Chowder out the door, since he’s too amiable and polite to know how to leave Bitty’s orbit.

Derek is stopped on his way out by a strong hand to his elbow, and he’s afraid (slash hopeful) that Bitty is going to try and unload another pie on him, but he only gives Derek a smile.

“I just wanted to thank you two for being such good friends to our Dex. I know he can be a bit cantankerous, but I think you’ve really brought him out of his shell, Nursey. All of us in here have noticed just how much he talks about the two of you. I’m glad we could finally meet.”

His approval feels significant, like Derek’s passed some sort of test. Derek swallows, and offers his sincerest smile back. “Thanks, Bitty. He’s- he’s one of us. He’s my best friend.” There’s more he wants to say, but from the way Bitty nods, it seems like he understands even without words.

Dex introduces them to The Falconer and her boys a few days later. She lives in a house on a small outcropping at the edge of the heart, her flock scattered in trees and small satellite houses nearby, except J, who resides with Bitty when he isn’t transformed.

She shakes Derek’s hand with a firm grip, and he trusts her instinctively. Something about her brown eyes and messy bun give her an aura of put-together trustworthiness, and from the way she handles Tater when he swoops down to land on her shoulder, it’s for good reason.

“Only J is actually a falcon,” Dex explains as they sit on her porch watching J and Tater circle each other in the air in the more open space of the inner ring. “Tater’s a white-tailed eagle. Snowy’s a snowy owl.”

“Wow, wonder where he got the nickname,” Chowder snorts, and Dex grins.

“Yeah. There used to be a few others - Thirdy, Marty -  but their curses ended, so they left. Marty, at least, was also a falcon, so that’s where she gets the title, I guess.”

“So they’re just cursed? For thirteen years? Because of some old family bullshit from like a zillion years ago?” Chowder tries to clarify, and Dex nods.

“Something like that. I never really got the specifics, but yeah, it’s like some primogeniture fairy curse thing. The Falconer’s been watching over them in here for decades now, so they always send the next in line back here to roost when he transforms for the first time.”

“And no one’s ever looked into breaking this curse?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow when Dex just draws his knees up to his chest and makes a non-committal noise.

“Some curses can't be broken.”

“No way, dude. Every clause has a loophole. Every bad deal has a way out. And every curse should be breakable. Otherwise, how could we ever hold onto hope?”

“How could we,” Dex echoes, staring up at the loose feathers that flutter down like errant flakes of snow.

They meet the flock over the course of several days, since their human hours don’t always align with daylight. J, as a human, is reserved and broadly Canadian, but there’s a quiet warmth in his eyes that really comes out when he’s with Bitty. Tater is gregarious and friendly, Snowy more calm and settled, but none of them hesitate to gently chirp Dex when he makes introductions, spouting off things like “finally, we are meeting Dex’s frogs!” and “so this is who you’ve been skipping flight practice to hang out with, eh?”.

“I can’t even fly!” Dex exclaims, and J laughs, leaving the room to help Bits in the kitchen.

“That’s why you shouldn’t skip practice,” Snowy says through a bite of honey walnut pie, and Dex flings a fork at him. It stops in mid-air, accompanied by a “what did I tell you about throwing my good silverware?” from Bitty.

Dex mumbles an apology and sinks back into the couch between Derek and C.

“Hey, why are we your frogs?” Chowder asks, and Dex coughs awkwardly and takes a sip of his tea before explaining.

“Uh, there was a year I rescued some frog eggs and watched over them that spring.”

“Dex watches tadpoles like mother hen, every day sitting at Lardo’s pond,” Tater says, crouching on the rug to imitate Dex staring into the water.

Dex ignores Chowder’s “d’awwww” and mutters out, “Yeah, so now they call any of my rescues ‘frogs’. And you guys are, like, the frogs, I guess. The rest are just people I helped back out.”

“That’s mad adorable. Frogs, C, how about that?”

“It is adorable,” C agrees. Dex buries his face in his hands and they slide in toward him to sandwich him on the couch more securely.

“This was a terrible idea,” he mutters as Chowder rests his head on his shoulder and Derek steals the rest of his coconut cream pie.

Terrible idea or not, Dex does reluctantly bring them to meet the nymphs when winter starts to fade into spring. Camilla, an athletic blonde dryad with a wry sense of humor, shows them her tree: a towering, conical red spruce. Dex points out the nearby tree that J accidentally damaged that time he changed back to a human while perched on a thin branch.

April’s grove of yellow birches is located in the far end of Lardo’s spring, the bare grass underfoot dotted with translucent violet flowers. She regards them sternly as Dex introduces her as a nymph of groves, “not a dryad,” as she emphatically insists.

“Oh, like an alseid?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, actually,” April says, looking almost impressed, her pretty mouth curving with a hint of a smile.

“Of course you would know that,” Dex says.

And Lardo, she whose bro-itude holds no parallel, they finally meet on a slow afternoon after midterms. She emerges halfway from the water to meet them, resting her arms on the bank.

“Your old frogs were cuter,” she says brightly, leaning her cheek against one hand.

“They're plenty cute,” Dex tells her automatically, then pauses, squints, and changes his mind. “No, sorry, you were right. These two are...eh.” He makes an ambivalent motion with his hand, and Lardo nods sagely.

“Disrespectful to say that,” Chowder scoffs, “when you have two of Andover’s most eligible bachelors gracing you with their presence all the time.”

“He’s been over-exposed,” Derek says. “Kinda hurts my feelings, honestly.”

“Well, when you two dreamboats are done complaining, Lardo can give us a tour.” Dex rolls his eyes when Derek tries his best smolder on him and gives him a gentle shove.

Lardo is sweet and sharply funny, and much more knowledgeable about art and literature than Derek would’ve expected from a naiad. Dex explains after another visit that almost all of the forest’s denizens can leave, though whether they want to varies from person to person. The flock tends to travel together, just in case one of them transforms out of cycle. None of the nymphs can travel more than a few miles from their true bodies, but it’s enough to be able to go to the library or the movie theater. They never do meet Jenny or Mandy; all Dex will tell Derek is “they’re around somewhere” whenever he asks.

Over the remainder of sophomore year, they hang out with Dex’s friends several more times. Derek doesn’t know when he starts noticing it, but it feels like he understands Dex better now, after seeing who he is when he’s with the others. It’s not that Dex is a different person, but some of that always present distance that even Derek can’t close disappears when they’re in the heart with his friends.

It’s to be expected, he supposes. They’ve known him longer than Derek has, but still, he wonders when they’ll reach the day when Dex will feel as free around him. Not as long he feels he has secrets he needs to keep, but Derek won’t press it. As it is, he appreciates how much more open Dex already is, now that he and Chowder know about the woods. It feels like they've grown closer.

“What is it? My hair weird or something?” Dex asks when he catches Derek looking one day. He'd just been laughing about something April muttered under her breath as J walked by. Derek had been transfixed for a moment, watching the soft lamplight of Bitty’s porch lanterns casting bronze over Dex’s face while a wheezing cackle escaped his mouth. It's an extremely stupid noise, but it's endearingly free, and Derek feels for a moment like there are no more walls standing between them. Here he is, light-hearted and golden in the darkest part of the woods, and Derek can almost see all of him.

“Nah, just thought I saw a bug,” Derek lies, and Dex frowns.

“Ugh, mosquitoes,” he says, annoyed. “You might want to start wearing bug spray; they're relentless out here, and you have a scratching problem. Better to prepare now, or we’ll have to spend all summer slathering calamine lotion on you.”

Derek agrees absently, thinking about how odd it is that a flower can bloom in the darkness.

When the year ends, Derek returns to the city with a promise to come back with cotton candy, since Dex hasn't had any for well over a decade.

Over the summer, Derek finds himself missing them more than usual. He's overseas with mama for a good chunk of vacation, and doesn't have the chance this year to visit Chowder. August feels like it drags on, and though he loves hanging out with his New York friends, he can't help but wonder what Dex is up to for the summer. At least he can call and skype C, though their time zone difference and Chowder’s bizarre summer sleep schedule make it difficult sometimes.

But Dex could be doing anything. On the nights when no one else is in the apartment but himself, Derek wishes more than ever he could convince Dex to come see him. Maybe he could help cure that guilty brand of loneliness that afflicts Derek even when he's surrounded by people.

Maybe Dex will finally feel like he can be all of himself around Derek.

[my-mystic-messenger]

Usually you would send these in as asks, but I still haven’t fully figured out how Tumblr works myself and I’ve been chilling on this platform for years! I also take what I can get, cause someone was actually nice enough to give me a request and I’m happy to please! I also kinda hella loved the idea :D so here you go, I hope you like it @animeawakens

|| REQUEST ARE (ALWAYS) OPEN!! ||

Zen:

♬ after you officially got together it took weeks until he let the two of you share a bed

♬ it's not that he doesn't trust you – although you do like to get hot and heavy – but that he mostly doesn't trust himself

♬ sometimes he even went as far as to send you home in the middle of a make out session because it got too much for him to handle

♬ whenever you did sleep over – because he just couldn't let you go – you slept in the bed and he slept on the couch

♬ meaning; you never got a good look at him sleeping

♬ after about two months he finally lets you stay over and you two share a bed

♬ sleeping with Zen is extremely comfortable

♬ he's a great big spoon but doesn't mind being the small one either

♬ his hair can get a little tricky when he opens it up, but if that means you get to cuddle him, you can endure a little hair tickling your nose

♬ what you can't endure is Zen's beauty

♬ one day you're awake before him and you decide to actually get up instead of trying to sleep again

♬ you roll out of bed and turn around to get one last glance at sleeping Zen, since you've never really seen that

♬ it's almost like a punch in the guts

♬ he is drop dead gorgeous!

♬ if you didn't know better you'd think he was posing for some sort of photoshoot right then and there

♬ one of his arms is resting on his chest while the other is effortlessly resting above his head

♬ his white hair runs down his chest like silk as he lays on his back

♬ on top of that his face is relaxed, peaceful, untouched

♬ just watching him breathe in and out like this is mesmerizing

♬ one part of you is almost angry at how effortlessly beautiful he is

♬ the other appreciates it enough to get out your phone and snap a quick pick

♬ “Jaehee will so appreciate this...”

Yoosung:

★ you and Yoosung moved in together much later than both of you would have liked to

★ he had to finish school and starting a vet clinic by yourself was near impossible at his age

★ after a while though, you couldn't stand being apart and while money was short, you moved in together

★ luckily Jumin invested as a wedding gift and so the clinic came to be

★ money was no longer an issue and so you moved into a bigger, nice apartment together

★ at first everything was great, even sharing a bed, which neither of you had ever done before

★ looking back on it you realized it was due to stress that your sleeping arrangements worked out

★ the second his head hit the pillow Yoosung fell asleep like the dead

★ however, once he'd gotten used to being a vet and the stress reduced, his annoying sleeping habits kicked in

★ for one, he's a horrible blanket hogger and you woke up more than once during the night because you were shivering without your blanket

★ at the same time you also found yourself waking up from being smothered and that was the biggest problem

★ it was easy to buy a separate blanket set, but getting rid of squid Yoosung was a near impossible feat

★ once he'd wrapped his arms, sometimes legs, around you, there was no getting rid of him

★ only only did you feel smothered, but you began growing hot rather soon as well

★ that boy felt like a hundred degrees wrapped around you

★ when you told him about it he felt extremely ashamed

★ you attempted to sleep in separate beds for a while, since you had work too and being completely drained of energy due to lack of sleep wasn't an option

★ it didn't work out

★ suddenly you felt cold and empty without your little octopus wrapped around you

★ after about a week you craved and climbed into back during night

★ about an hour later Yoosung had moved in his sleep and slung his first arm around you

★ half an hour later he was once more completely wrapped around you

★ you just sighed contently

★ “Much better...”

Jaehee:

♨When you and Jaehee first moved in together it was as 'best friends'

♨ you each had your room and did it for 'practical reasons'

♨ it was just 'easier to split the rent and chores'

♨ for anyone who didn't notice, those were all keywords for you weren't quite ready to admit to yourself and each other just how gay you were for one another

♨ eventually you got drunk and made out though and the cat was kind of out of the bag

♨ so you decided to confess and move into the same room

♨ the spare room remained a bedroom, but mostly for guests or just in case things got too much

♨ Jaehee is practical that way

♨ anyway, now that you were finally sleeping in the same room, arrangements had to be made

♨ the closet space had to be shared and a bigger bed had to be bought

♨ you went shopping together and Jaehee had so much fun you fell in love with her smile even more

♨ the first couple of nights you didn't really focus on how Jaehee slept, to be honest

♨ most of it was either spent cuddling or making out or...well you know what new couples do

♨ a lot of exploration, to put it that way

♨ the fun kind

♨ after all the excitement of a new relationship died down you finally settled and calmed a little

♨ really, that is where your relationship began

♨ it was also then that you first stayed awake for a while to just look at her

♨ Jaehee was always trim and tight, even now that she wasn't working for Jumin anymore

♨ she was organized and focus

♨ but when she slept, all of it went away and her face evened out, relaxing into something so pure

♨ she slept on her stomach, face buried into the pillow

♨ it looked utterly adorable

♨ she also drooled a little and you couldn't help but chuckle at how cute and innocent it made her look

♨ almost childlike, really

♨ she was very embarrassed when you brought it up, but you assured her you didn't mind

♨ after that night you put a box of tissues on her nightstand so she could wipe any remains off

♨ “You should always be as relaxed as when you sleep. I'll make that happen one day.”

Jumin:

♛ while Jumin was allowed to watch you sleep early on in the relationship, the sentiment wasn't returned

♛ you weren't allowed to share a bed for the longest time until he finally craved

♛ morals were overrated anyway, right?

♛ when you first shared a bed you couldn't really believe your eyes

♛ the second he laid down, it took him a maximum of five minutes to fall asleep

♛ frankly, you found that incredible

♛ sure, he worked until very late and was probably exhausted, but it wasn't just the speed that surprised you, but also the position he slept in

♛ it was a picture book sleeping position

♛ he lay on his back, blanket pulled up high with both his hands clasped and resting right below his chest

♛ through the entire night, he didn't move an inch

♛ Not. An. Inch

♛ you knew that some people called him heartless and cold, but you hadn't expected him to actually sleep like a goddamn vampire!

♛ you actually had nightmares about this

♛ dreaming about him sleeping in a coffin, suddenly waking up with red eyes and fangs bared at you

♛ in his defense, the dream did turn out quite nice

♛ another positive aspect, you totally used his chest as your pillow, arm thrown over his middle

♛ “Hmm, better than any silk pillow ~ ”

Saeyoung/Seven

☼ sharing a bed with him is a plain mess

☼ you love him still, of course, but you spend many nights waking up at least once

☼ at first everything is fine, when the two of you go to sleep

☼ you spoon or cuddle up face to face, the typical couple sleeping positions

☼ then you actually fall asleep and things start to get messy

☼ when it first happened you didn't think much of it

☼ you woke up the next morning and Seven had spread out over the entire bed, leaving you with close to no space

☼ it was alright though, you understood

☼ he'd been a single person and you were guilty of starfishing at home yourself

☼ you figured he'd eventually get used to sharing his bed with another person and adapt

☼ you figured wrong

☼ in fact, things became even worse from there on

☼ not only did he basically corner you on your own half of the bed, eventually you found yourself waking up to your face kissing the floor

☼ you tested out different things, from sleeping on the different side of the bed to giving him sleeping pills to knock him out

☼ it didn't work, you always ended up either corner or on the floor

☼ eventually you bought a pull-out bed so now when you fall, you fall onto another mattress

☼ on the plus side; you've learned to fall asleep really quick after

☼ you also learned to see positive things even in negative situations

☼ “Sometimes I don't even wake up anymore! How cool is that?”

Saeran:

☀ Sharing a bed with Saeran took ages

☀ he probably wouldn't have minded, but you did

☀ the therapist had said to give him some space, let him heal

☀ physical contact in general was a tender topic, let alone sharing a bed

☀ it was a rather intimate thing, even without having sex

☀ you really didn't want him to push you away or feel caged

☀ it was about half a year into your relationship that he asked you to sleep with him

☀ even in bed, you stayed on your side, not touching him at first

☀ especially when you first turned over too look at him sleep

☀ really, it broke your heart

☀ he slept in a fetus position, making himself so small it must have been uncomfortable

☀ he also didn't look relaxed or calm like you would expect a sleeping person to look like

☀ even in sleep, he looked troubled

☀ maybe even more so than in real life, where he constantly wore a mask, you realized

☀ you actually found yourself crying at his fate

☀ he woke up one night, hearing you sob

☀ for a moment he just stared at you in confusion, but apparently he understood

☀ without a word he scooted closer and cuddled up to you

☀ it almost made you cry even more, the way he tried to hide himself in your embrace

☀ from then on you held him every night, his face buried in your chest and your fingers brushing through his hair

☀ you didn't cry anymore, he didn't look as pained

☀ “I like our new sleeping position much better, you know?”

Jihyun Kim/ V

📷 moving in with V was equally easy as it was hard

📷 even with Rika out of the picture it still felt like she was present

📷 there was a side of the closet unused, a free shelf in the bathroom and decoration too feminine to have been chosen by V himself

📷 even when your things started to fill these spaces it didn't feel quite right

📷 it just felt so much like she was still there

📷 you hated that feeling, and it made you feel insecure

📷 especially when you first came home late and V was already sleeping

📷 you stepped in and it was obvious that he'd shared a bed before

📷 painfully obvious

📷 he neatly slept on his side of the bed, but his arm was stretched out, reaching for something

📷 you figured it was Rika

📷 you slept on the couch that night

📷 he asked you about it the next morning, but you dodged the topic

📷 when the same thing repeated itself again about two weeks later, he didn't let you off the hook

📷 so you explained

📷 he was shocked and embarrassed with himself

📷 there was a bit of truth to it, it had been the position he's slept in with Rika

📷 but he'd gotten over her thanks to you, and hated having hurt you like that

📷 without you asking him, he gets rid of everything that once belonged to her

📷 from there on he pulls you to his chest, holding you close through the night

📷 both of you finally have what you always needed

📷 “Thank you so much, V.”

|| REQUEST ARE (ALWAYS) OPEN!! ||

little side note, I’m sorry this took so long. I went to sleep shortly before I got your request and while the first couple of peeps were easy to write I constantly struggle with V so it took a while. I still hope you guys like it :3

[yeehawdante]

Heaven on a Landslide pt. 9

June 15th, 9:56 a.m. 

Penelope swallowed thickly when the way they came through closed up behind them, all the daylight peaking through slowly swallowed up by the tree and plunging them into darkness. 

“Well, no point in turnin’ back now,” Nero sighed, “not that that was ever an option.” Nero and Penelope exchanged glances, she gave a confident smile despite the fear in her eyes. She was certainly grateful she was facing Urizen with her son, his presence bringing an immeasurable amount of comfort no one else could provide. She knew her nerves would overwhelm her had she still been V, especially with his recent behavior. She shook away her thoughts about her tattooed companion, she knew for a fact he wasn’t worried about her so why should she worry about him?

“Time for some payback,” she said with a firm nod. 

She let out a soft sigh when a few empusa blocked their path, she had certainly expected the Qliphoth to provide some sort of a challenge. Not that she was complaining, of course. The demon bugs were wiped out in record time, the pair of devil hunter’s eager to keep moving forward. 

Nero’s eyebrows seemed permanently furrowed, even when they weren’t kicking the demon’s teeth in, an indication that he was thinking hard about something. Penelope somehow knew exactly what he was wondering about. 

“What V said about Redgrave, it’s true,” she started reluctantly, peaking her son’s curiosity. He stared at her with his eyebrows raised, listening intently. 

“Yeah? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Her lip started to tremble and he felt like someone had come and punched him in the gut.  

“That’s the day my parents died. I was just a little girl...they died protecting me. My father had me hide under my bed, told me not to come out no matter what I heard and so when I heard them scream-” she swiped the back of her hand over her cheek, “I stayed where I was, even when the screaming stopped, I stayed hidden. I don’t know how long I was under there before-” she hesitated, biting her tongue and clenching her eyes shut for a moment. 

“Before what?” Her throat felt impossibly tight, like the words she wanted to let out were somehow suffocating her. 

“Before your father found me,” he came to a halt, staring at her with wide eyes. She never spoke about his father, never. 

“My father?” 

“Yeah, we were friends when we were kids. He came to see if I was still alive, and I wouldn’t have been for much longer if he hadn’t of showed up,” their conversation came to a pause when a group of the lizard-like demons decided to ambush them. They were disposed of almost as quickly as they appeared. In the next room, they encountered an inverted waterfall of lava. They exchanged glances and shrugged almost simultaneously. 

“Guess that’s our ride,” they hopped onto one of the rising rocks, letting it lift them high enough to jump to their next path. Nero had almost stumbled and fallen flat on his face, scowling at his mother when she laughed at him. . 

“Did Dante know him?” Nero asked suddenly and her breath hitched. She started to fidget as she spoke. 

“Yeah...yeah he did,” she said softly, and Nero took her tone as his queue to stop pushing. They came upon a wall of...god only knew what and Penelope felt her stomach churning just look at it. But she didn’t see any other way forward. 

“You, uh...who’s going through first?” 

“A good mom would go first and make sure it’s safe but...who ever said I was a good mother?” Nero chuckled as he stepped forward. 

“Guess it’s me then,” he sighed, and Penelope actually had to look away when he pushed through. She reluctantly followed after working up the courage, ending up going through a tube that spat her out in another area, while also spewing out gallons of blood onto her. Both devil hunter’s grimaced when they looked down at their blood soaked clothes, and Penelope let out a laugh when she got a good look at her son. 

“Not a good time to have white hair,” she snickered and he rolled his eyes, but something about his expression altered milliseconds after. 

“Did my father have white hair?” She wiped some of the blood threatening to drip down into her eyes. 

“Yeah, you got his hair, his eyes…” she smiled softly and lightly tapped his chin, “his chin,” Nero narrowed his eyes. 

“You...sure it isn’t Dante?” She threw her head back and groaned.

“When are you gonna let that g-”

“I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to admit that-” 

“Nero I swear-” her son suddenly jumped backward, a gigantic spike of ice piercing up from the ground where he had been standing.  A spine chilling, hoarse voice drew their attention to behind them. A demon resembling a goat emerged from above, speaking in some kind of foreign tongue. Penelope sidestepped when another spike shot up where she had been standing, and she growled when she noticed another one of the damn things approaching. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she sighed, readying her sword. She picked up on the distinct sound of Nero revving his sword behind her. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

After many, many obnoxious demon encounters and horrible blood tube travelling, they finally reached Urizen. Nero was already about to jump through the gap but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He gave his mother a quizzical look, and she felt like she should say something, anything, but her tongue sat heavy and useless in her mouth. She opted instead to pull her son into a hug, holding him as tight as she did on the day she thought she had lost him in Fortuna and she wondered if she could feel how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. She hoped he couldn’t. 

“We’ve got this mom,” she pulled back, her heart sitting up in her throat and making it difficult to breathe as she plastered a smile on her face. 

“I know, let’s go dethrone this son of a bitch, shall we?” He gestured a metal arm in the doorways direction. 

“After you.” 

Penelope didn’t even take a single look at the demon king when she first entered. Her purple eyes scanned the room instead, her heart hammering harshly against her ribs as she looked for any signs of Dante. She felt like she’d forgotten how to breathe when she saw nothing. No Rebellion, no body, nothing. Not even a sign that he was dead. Her jaw clenched when she finally turned to look at Urizen, something about him deeply unsettled her. It was something more than the fact he had beaten Dante, something deeper that her mind was allowing her to figure out. 

“Hey douchebag, miss me?” Nero’s voice rang out, cocky as ever from behind her. The demon king had no reaction, his head rested on his hand while reclined in his oversized throne like he was bored. She was already so over this guy. He locked eyes with her and she wondered if he could smell her fear like some sort of dog.

“You…” 

“Oh, you know me?” She clicked her tongue, feigning the confidence she knew Dante had probably shown when he was standing in her place, “well, this is awkward coz I had never heard of you before you killed my boyfriend. And honestly...” she drew her sword, sucking in a deep breath to calm her rapid heartbeat. “I really thought you’d be taller.” 

Nero had filled his mother in on everything he knew about Urizen’s fighting pattern on their way to the battle. They had hatched a plan for one to keep him as busy as they could while the other went for that pesky crystal, which Nero theorized was powering the force field protecting him. It was working for the most part, the crystal was definitely taking some visible damage courtesy of Nero but Penelope was growing overwhelmed quickly by the sheer amount of bs Urizen could throw at her in such quick succession. It didn’t take long to reduce her to a panting, bloody mess. Every inch of her screamed in pain, begging for the rest she’d refused to allow her body in the past month but she pressed on.  

Urizen had been momentarily distracted by her white haired son, deciding him to be the biggest threat when he had managed to wear the crystal down to its last leg. Penelope jumped on her chance while the demon king was distracted. She triggered, charging forward at an impossible speed and swinging her sword with every ounce of strength she had left. 

She stumbled backward, landing on the ground with a sigh of relief when the crystal shattered. Nero didn’t waste any time, lunging at Urizen with a cry and slashing at him with his sword. She clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized the only damage he had managed to do was basically a fucking papercut. She sucked in a deep breath, willing herself to her feet. 

“Come on,” she whispered shakily, rising onto her wary legs and getting to Nero’s side. She knelt down beside him as his coughing morphed into chuckles. She gave him a worried once over, wondering how hard he’d been hit. 

“It’s about time I landed somethin’,” she couldn’t tell if all the new blood dripping down his face was his or the demon’s, and she didn’t even want to know. Penelope helped her son struggle to his feet, panic blurring every logical thought in her mind. All that for one cut...she refused to let her son die there. 

“Weak mortal,” Penelope tore her eyes away from her son to look at Urizen, “demon power does not course through your veins. Yet, you try.” It felt like her limbs had frozen when he slowly rose from his throne, his voice raising, “how dare you strike me?!” Geysers of blood suddenly shot up from the pools of blood around his throne, a gruesome show of fireworks surrounding his gigantic form. “You will regret...being born useless and human.” His steps thundered as he grew closer, the tendrils latching him to his throne breaking off, “I will show you...your worst nightmares,” both devil hunters backed away as he continued approaching, Penelope nearly tripping over her own feet, “I will give you… despair and death.” 

Nero looked to his mother, his stomach twisting up in fear to see her so panicked. Her eyes were blown wide, completely glued on the approaching demon as tears poured down her cheeks. He’d never seen her so afraid. 

Nero charged at the demon king before his mother could stop him, trying to block out the sounds of her crying out. Urizen smacked him away, the sound of Nero’s pained cry ringing in Penelope’s ears. She willed her limbs to move, standing between her son struggling on the ground and the towering demon. She ignored her shaking hands and heaving chest, focusing on the sound of her son’s breathing behind her and keeping her gaze hard as steel. 

“You hurt my son one more time…” she triggered, her voice morphing with her demon form, “and I’m gonna fucking lose it.” Penelope used up her last bit of energy, managing to break the crystal once before he seemed to grow bored of entertaining the pair of devil hunters. One of the tendrils on his back swung out, ripping through her chest and tossing her to the side when he was satisfied with the damage dealt. Her blood curdling scream almost willed Nero back to his feet, but he only got to his knees before collapsing once again with a frustrated growl.

She clutched at her chest, futilely trying to dull the dizzying pain that was blurring her vision. She watched Urizen close the distance between him and her son writhing on the ground. 

“No…” her raw throat gave out mid-shout, leaving her with nothing but a hoarse whisper. She wasn’t going to let him die. She couldn’t. 

The whole room seemed to go silent after her gun went off, a bullet hitting the demon king square in the back of his head. Nero watched with wide eyes when Urizen started to turn around, his face twisting up in panic when he started stomping toward his injured mother. 

“Why...do you still try?” Urizen’s voice boomed and Penelope let out an empty laugh, pulling the hammer back on her revolver. 

“C’mon, didn’t think I’d go out before round two, did’ja?” 

“Mom! He’s-you gotta move,” Nero scrambled onto his knees, trying not to pay attention to the blood pooling around her as his weak legs gave out again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Nero-” she called out, her gaze falling to his. “You’re gonna win, I know it” she blinked away her tears as the demon’s footsteps grew closer, every pounding step making her flinch. 

“Shut up,” Nero choked out, a scream bubbling up in his chest, “stop talking like that.” She tried to take in every inch of her son’s face, without the blood and fear, as one of Urizen’s tendrils coiled around her throat and cut off her air supply. She could hear Nero screaming as she coughed and wheezed, making sure her son was the last thing she was before she was gone. 

But death never came.