#and marlowe hates him on sight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seeingivy · 2 years ago

Text

the party scene

roommate eren x f!reader

you and eren won’t dance

**find the series masterlist here

content warning: drinking, hitch and marlowe being annoying, someone gets pushed into a pool, marco getting clowned for his halloween costume, toilet humor

an: ok yall. here’s the chapter. heheheheheh. and you should listen to the song, when you get to it. for vibes of course. to many anon who guessed correctly, hundreds of kisses. not my fav roommates chapters me thinks (but also it seems like everyone else has different fav chapters than I expected so)

previous part linked here

“What are you going to be for the party?”

You can literally see Eren’s ears perk up, breaking his concentration from the dinner he was cooking on the stove. You tried to make ravioli for dinner. Key word, tried. He didn’t let you stand there for longer than two minutes because he didn’t want you to “burn the apartment down.”

You put foil in the microwave one time and suddenly he thinks you’re some arsonist.

“The party on Friday? You’re going, peaches?”

“Yeah. Jean invited me. Kind of being a wingwoman for him and bringing my classmate Marco, who I’m like ninety percent sure he has a crush on.”

Eren turns his face back to the pan, dishing the food around on the plate. You get up occasionally, grabbing things you know he’ll need before he asks for them. Setting the dishes, grabbing the salt (because this man doesn’t know how to season), the Yerba Mate Eren claims to hate but drinks anyways.

“Hitch and I are going as Anakin and Padme. From Star Wars. Apparently, Marlowe loves that crap and she never gave him the time of day for it. She thinks it’ll make him real mad if we show up like that.”

“You should put a braid in your hair. You know, like from the second movie.”

“Ew. I’m going as the third movie look.”

“Good. He’s hotter in that movie anyways.”

He flashes you a smile as he dishes out the food, lifting the plates and setting them on the table. You join him with the drinks, the two of you sitting right next to each other.

It was getting easier. Eren was your friend. Maybe even your best friend. You’d still get the occasional heart pounding, flustered cheesk whenever he walked past you or said something that made your heart flutter, but other than that, you were making progress. You can live with a heart flutter here and there.

“What are you going to be?”

“Jean wants to do some basic angel/devil thing for the party. I’ve got a white dress and he apparently has a halo already so it should be fine.”

“Have you ever been to a party?”

“Yeah. Not really my thing though, but I don’t mind helping Jean. It can be fun with friends. Dancing, letting loose and all that.”

“Hm. Save a dance for me, peaches?”

“I’m not riding up on you, Eren. That’s weird.”

He drops his fork, an exasperated expression spreading across his face. The vein in his forehead is prominent and you always enjoy when it shows up because you know you’ve won. He’s just that easy to aggravate.

“Who said anything about you riding up on me? I didn’t mean it like that. That’s like…perverted. You could expect that type of shit from Jean or something but-”

You place your hand against his forearm, laughing in his face. He stops immediately at the sight of your laughter, glaring at you.

“You’re so easy to piss off, Eren. I’ll save you a dance, okay? A normal one.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to shake.

“Deal?”

“Deal, Ren.”

“Hey.”

“Hi Ren.”

He steps into the bathroom, standing directly behind you as you finish doing your makeup for the party. Jean was supposed to be here in thirty minutes and the two of you were going to go pick up Marco. Meaning, you were going to have to deal with their awkward pining for the ten minute drive to the party.

“Can you help me with something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Can you help me draw the scar?”

“Oh, yeah. Show me the picture.”

He hands you his phone as you inspect the picture, the scar starting before the eyebrow and breaking just underneath the left eye. He sits on top of the toilet seat, his ankles crossed over each other.

“Ah. Hitch gave me this to use. For the scar.”

He hands you a tube of lipstick, which you slide open and swatch against the back of your hand. Too glittery for a scar.

“Do you mind if I use mine? Hers is kind of glittery and it’ll look kinda weird?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You bend over, digging through your bag to find the one tube of red lipstick you own, that Pieck forced you to buy for her wedding. You can’t show up to my wedding in lip gloss, that’s an atrocity. You find the tube at the end of the drawer, walking over to where Eren was sitting.

As you amble over, you realize that the toilet seat is way too low and you can’t properly reach Eren’s face to reach. You were towering over him, his long legs sprawled across the floor of the bathroom.

“Why are these toilet seats so low? I can’t even get the right angle.”

“Levi. Kenny told me he hates having his feet dangle over certain toilets so he makes sure to get the shortest ones when picking his apartments. As if Levi’s going to come shit in our toilet at some point.”

You nod, trying your best to lean over and indent the mark over Eren’s face. Out of all the angles you try, not one of them works - your head is blocking the light, your hands are in a weird position, you’re all up in his space.

“Just sit on my knee. If it’s easier.”

He splits his legs, tapping on the top of his thigh for you to sit. You nod, setting both of your legs on each side of his one as you lightly perch on top of his leg.

“That’s hovering. Not sitting, Y/N. It’s fine.”

You sigh, pressing your full weight against Eren as you lean back over for the phone and check the picture. As you slide over reaching for it, Eren puts his hands on your waist, holding you from falling off of his knee.

“Thanks Ren. Just wanted to check again before I started.”

You focus on the picture, the light shining against your face as you check where the scar was exactly on your eyes. Eren locks his fingers together behind your waist, pulling you closer so you can get a better look.

“Okay. I think I’ve got it down.”

You cradle the side of his face in your hands as you start drawing the scar on, trying to be as gentle as possible. Trying to avoid the fact that you’re basically straddling him right now. You can feel his cheeks warming under your touch and you try your hardest not to let the smile spread across your face. At least it’s not just you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing Ren. You’re just blushing, that’s all.”

“You’d blush if you were in my position too.”

You shake your head, pressing your fingers against his lips so you can stop him from moving. You’re only halfway through the scar and if he talks again you’re going to smudge it.

“Since when do you wear red lipstick?”

“I don’t. Pieck made me buy it for her wedding. It’s for special occasions.”

You lean back, cupping his face in your hands as you glean your eyes over the scar. You compare it to the picture and figure it's semi accurate, giving him a smile to signal you’re done. You slide off of his legs, beckoning him to join you in the mirror. You watch him lean forward, eyeing your work.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Can I try?”

“Try what?”

“Doing makeup on you.”

You pause, dropping your lipstick tube back into the box.

“I don’t have a scar for my costume.”

“I know. But you must have something left to do. You just looked so focused, like you were face painting, and I just wanted to try.”

“Um, okay. You can take this glitter. You basically just dip your finger in it and swipe it against my eyelids. And then along the collarbone too, because it's body glitter.”

He nods, taking the white glitter into his hands. He inspects the box first, turning it over and over again, holding it up against the light, smelling it.

“Do you need to do a police inspection on the box? It’s just glitter.”

“Shut up. I was just checking if it was okay to use.”

“It’s obviously okay to use if I’m giving it to you. I’ve used it before.”

He rolls his eyes, learning down. He sets his hands on both sides of your face, angling your face to inspect you this time.

“You’re short.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Do you always have to give me attitude?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sit on the counter. It’ll be easier for me to do if we’re closer to the same level.”

You brace your palms against the counter, trying to push yourself onto the counter. You clearly misestimated how tall the counter was because you barely hit the back of the top, stumbling in the air.

“Okay, Humpty Dumpty. Let me help you.”

He reaches down, securing his hands around your waist to lift you up to the counter. You can feel your cheeks burning at the sensation, unable to look him in the eyes.

Right. Because it was getting easier, because he was becoming your friend. But there were still moments like this. Ones where you can feel your cheeks burning, your heart pounding, your fingers shaking.

You hate that he still makes you feel this way.

“Okay, widen your stance.”

“What?”

“Open your legs.”

“Ew. You’re so vulgar, Eren.”

“Well, I said to widen your stance and you gave me that stupid look on your face. It’s your fault.”

You roll your eyes, parting your legs. He steps in between the space, leaning close to your face with the glitter still in his hands.

“So, the eyelids and collarbones?”

“Yeah. You can just use your fingers. You wash your hands after you pee, right?”

“Of course not.”

“What?”

“It’s better for the environment. If I just wait until I have to poop, I can just save water by washing my hands once. You should try it.” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“As if. Girls don’t poop.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“There’s no way girls don’t poop.”

“Ask your mom. Or Mikasa. They’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Okay, stop fucking around. We’re running late.”

“You started it with your stupid toilet humor.”

“Shut up. Your attitude is going to kill me one day.”

“That’s a promise, Yeager.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile spread across his face as he dips his thumb into the glitter. He cups the side of your face and you flutter your eyes shut, his fingers gentle against your eyes. You can hear him laughing and you squint your eyes, glaring at him as you open them.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing Y/N. You’re just blushing, that’s all.” he responds, his tone mocking.

“Did you do this just to prove a point? It looks like finger painting, my ass.”

“Close your eyes. I’m not done yet.”

You shut your eyes again, Eren sliding the last bit of glitter along your eyes. You open your eyes to find him staring at you, his eyes wide.

“What did you do? Don’t tell me there’s glitter on my forehead.”

“No, it just looks pretty, that’s all.”

You look down, focusing on his hands as he dips into the glitter again. Stupid fucking hands and voice and smell and hair and soft cheeks. You can literally feel your heartbeat all the way in your stomach and he’s barely even touching you.

He uses his hands to tilt your face up, lightly pressing the glitter against the exposed parts of your neck. You feel your body shiver, instantly remembering the last time you and Eren were like this. Pressed up in the bathroom, with him kissing your neck. He presses his hand to your shoulder, his eyes washing over in concern at you shivering.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Got a weird sense of deja vu, that’s all.”

He nods, finishing off the last of the glitter. When he’s done, he locks his hands across your waist again, lightly setting you back down on the counter as you both stand there. You’re both staring at each other, neither one of you talking first.

Right. Because what are you supposed to say after that? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking of your lips on my neck, my bad.

The doorbell rings and Eren gives you a soft smile before squeezing your shoulder and leaving. You can hear Hitch in the doorway and you try to ignore the way your entire body is steaming.

“What are you even supposed to be, Marco?”

“I’m a space cowboy, Y/N!”

“You’re holding a glittery gun and wearing a flannel. You look like a kid who got lost at Party City and picked the closest thing you could find. You don’t even have a cowboy hat.”

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.”

You watch Marco’s cheeks turn a bright pink, awkwardly stuttering to respond to Jean. Great. They’re going to do this whole oblivious idiots thing all night.

Marco slides into the front as you and Jean walk to the other side, unlocking the car.

“Ignore her, Marco. I think you look great.” you say, mocking Jean’s high pitched voice.

He rolls his eyes, lightly shoving you as you settle into the seat behind him. They’re both talking animatedly, forgetting you were even sitting in the back. You unlock your phone, playing Wordscapes as they go on in the background.

Eren’s eyes were trained on your figure, as Jean and Marco were spinning you around on the dance floor with them for a better part of the last forty-five minutes. He’s been waiting, staring at you, anticipating when you’ll look at him.

You’re driving him crazy. Today, especially. Soft glitters, a willowy white dress, that stupid flowery perfume you wore during the concert. He even likes the stupid halo you have on your head.

He wants to touch you. Press his hands against yours, drag you out and leave with you so he was the only one who could see you like this, your stupid eyes glittering in the light.

He hates that you can still make him feel this way.

He sees you leave, waving off Jean and Marco who were still left on the dance floor. Marco’s wearing your halo and you have the glittery gun Marco was holding.

He’s still watching you. Shamelessly. You weave around people talking, wait to walk forward so you don’t get in the way of pictures, compliment strangers on their costumes.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, Hitch.”

She’s been annoyed for a better part of the last hour, not that he’s been paying much attention to it. Marlowe still hasn’t shown up.

He doesn’t mind the guy. He doesn’t quite understand why Marlowe and Hitch have to play these games - circling around each other, making each other jealous, making up. He figures a part of it is the chase, but he’s always found that part the most agonizing. He’d catch you if he could. He’s been waiting long enough. He’d make you feel good right here and right now.

He watches you leave the room, leaving the heat of the room to the patio outside.

“Mind if I leave? Just call me when he’s here, okay?”

Hitch nods and Eren basically bolts out the door, ready to follow you where you went. But before he can, Jean all but falls right off the dance floor, piled on the floor in front of him. He can see Marco’s hand under him, dragging them both up by their arms. He can tell Jean’s already too far gone and that he has to deal with this first. Then you.

Your feet hurt. Like a bitch. You made the wrong choice of wearing your Doc Martens to the party. You had figured you wouldn’t be moving much, just sticking to the walls and talking to whoever you knew there. But no, of course Jean’s nervous ass had to drag you onto the dance floor with Marco, the three of you spinning in circles.

You had made your safe escape, sitting outside on the patio. You had been watching the wind whistle through the trees in the dead of night, watching the lights in the pool change colors. They had been changing every minute - switching from purple, to red, to green. There were a few stars glittering out, barely sparkling in the sky.

“Anyone sitting here?”

You look up to find a guy with black hair and pale green eyes kneeling down, crossing his legs next to yours.

“No. Well you are, now.”

He smiles, the two of you sitting in silence. You watch people swerve around the pool, girls holding hands, people leaning against the chairs, everyone nursing drinks in their hands.

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

“Yeah. I don’t really come to these things, I just came here with my friend Jean.”

He nods, leaning down to feel the temperature of the water.

“Do you want to play twenty questions?”

You hike your knees against your chest, tangling your fingers together across.

“Sure.”

“Your name is…?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Marlowe.”

Right. Hitch’s Marlowe. The guy she was trying to make jealous, the reason Eren was seeing her and not you. Well, not exactly. He said you two were just a mistake but you could have convinced him if she wasn’t in the picture. Semantics. He taps your shoulder and you forget that it’s your turn.

“You play a sport, Marlowe?”

“Water Polo.”

You nod, lightly turning your head to the side. This is wrong. Surely Hitch wouldn’t be the happiest that you were sitting with Marlowe and not her. You can hear the party getting louder behind you and you swear you can hear her screaming in there somewhere.

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?”

“Uh, no. You?”

“Not exactly, Y/N.”

“I have this friend, I think you’d like her. Her name is-”

“Hitch?”

You pause, swallowing as you turn your face to look at him. He’s sitting way too close, an all-knowing look plastered on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’m okay, for now. It’s your turn to ask.”

“Um, okay. Why don’t you want to see Hitch?”

“Because I’m talking to you.”

He untangles his legs and stands up, holding out his hand for you to follow. You press your hand into his and he pulls you up, not letting go of your hand as the two of you stand. The party is getting even louder, the sound of voices drowning out the sound of the music. You’re positive you can hear her now.

“My turn. Do you know a guy named Eren? Plays soccer, green eyes?”

“Uh, no. Never heard of him.”

He nods, squinting his eyes at you. He must know Eren’s your roommate. Maybe he’s found out their together and he’s trying to get you to admit it. You let go of his hand, the two of you standing awkwardly by the pool.

You can’t really tell what he’s getting at, but every part of him irks you out. He’s perfect for Hitch.

“My turn, Marlowe. Are we done now?”

“That’s barely even twenty. But fine, one more question.”

You teeter on the balls of your feet, ready to take off the second he asks his stupid question. He turns to the side, eyeing the window, before asking.

“When was the last time someone kissed you?”

Before you can respond, Marlowe crashes into the pool, with Eren suddenly standing at your side. Eren just pushed Marlowe into the fucking pool. You can hear the sound of footsteps behind you - Hitch, Jean, and Marco at your sides.

Jean and Marco - well wasted beyond their minds - swing their arms around you, slurring as they ask you if you’re okay. Hitch on the other hand is pissed. At Eren.

“What the hell is your problem, Eren?”

“Him, Hitch. He was pissing me off.”

“This wasn’t what I meant when I asked you for help with this Eren. And your stupid roommate wasn’t helping the case either.”

You feel your eyes widen, as you make eye contact with Hitch, awkwardly crossing your arms across each other. You turn back to Jean, who still isn’t paying attention, instead playing rock paper scissors with Marco on the floor.

“You want to be with Marlowe so bad, Hitch? Go ahead and join him.”

He leans over, lightly pushing Hitch into the pool where Marlowe was still watching. He turns to you and ou can tell he’s pissed - that stupid vein on his forehead is showing again. But not in the good way.

“We’re leaving, Y/N.”

He grabs the edge of your wrist, dragging you towards the door as you shake on his hand.

“I drove here with Marco and Jean, Eren. And they’re way too drunk to drive home now.”

You both turn back, leaning over Marco and Jean. Jean’s way too out of it, but Marco looks up, smiling at the two of you.

“You guys are so cute. I love your Anakin and Padme costume.”

Right. Because he took your halo and you took the glittery gun because he kept hitting Jean with it. Eren turns to you, shaking your hand again.

“Armin will come get them. You and I are leaving. Now.”

“But how will he even find them? And what about Marco’s car?”

Eren turns around fully, stopping in the center of the door. He’s pissed, at you now, and you can lightly hear Marlowe and Hitch arguing in the background.

“You can hear them right? Knowing them, they’re going to walk up in a few seconds and start arguing with you and me. And if he says some shit again, I’m going to do worse than just push him into a fucking pool. You and I are leaving.”

He tangles his fingers around your wrist again, his touch still gentle, as the two of you file out of the party, making it back to the apartment.

Eren doesn’t say anything to you as you walk to the car, when you drive home, or even when you stare at him from the confines of your kitchen. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re waiting. For an explanation.

But he can’t do that can he? Tell you that the reason he pushed Marlowe in the pull and argued with Hitch is because he can’t stand the thought of him being with you? He can see the entire scene in his head, like he has been for the past hour, his anger burning every time he does.

“Jean, get the fuck up. You too, Marco.”

They both stand up, half leaning on each other. Totally gone.

“Eren. Marlowe’s here.”

He turns to find Hitch at his side, her face scrunched up in anger. Eren waves off Marco and Jean, pushing them towards the kitchen where (he hopes) they’ll find water and sober up a little. There’s no way he’s letting them drive you home, that’s for sure.

“Where?”

“With your stupid roommate outside. What is she doing?”

Eren turns his neck to find you, where he was just about to join you, sitting by the side of the pool. He can see Marlowe sitting next to you, leaning way too close for his liking. He turns back around, pressing his hands against Hitch’s shoulders.

“Get him to leave. Now.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

He drags Hitch out by the arm, the two of them leaning their necks so they can hear what you and Marlowe are talking about.

“Seeing anyone, Y/N?”

That’s enough. Eren moves forward, not exactly sure what he’s going to do, but Hitch stops him, pulling him back by the wrist.

“What are you doing, Hitch?”

Hitch digs her fingers into Eren’s wrist, turning to glare at him.

“What the fuck is she doing?”

“He asked her the question, Hitch. Shut the fuck up.”

He’s getting angrier. He can feel it - burning hot, red anger. Because why the fuck is Marlowe talking to you? Asking you if you’re alone? Why are you talking to him when you know he’s here? And why the fuck is Hitch pissed at you like Marlowe’s not the one all over you right now? Don’t you know he’s been waiting for that dance you promised him all night?

“Not exactly, Y/N.”

“I have this friend I think you’d like. Her name is-”

“Hitch?”

He turns back, his turn to glare at Hitch.

“See, Hitch. It’s fucking Marlowe. Now go and stop him.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to stop him? And I have no interest in chasing him.”

“Get mad. Argue and then kiss and makeup. I don’t give a fuck. Just get him to stop fucking talking to her. Now.”

“I already told you. I’m not chasing him.”

“This isn’t fucking about you. Do something now or I’ll call the deal off now. I’ve already done more than enough and you can’t do one thing for me?”

“Why do you even care?”

He turns his neck again, to find you and Marlowe standing, his hand in yours. He can’t stand it. Your hand in his. Because he doesn’t deserve you. No one does. Because he can’t treat you right and Eren can. He’d praise the ground you walk on if you let him.

He hears the last question and he can’t take it anymore.

“When was the last time you were kissed?”

So he does the only thing he can think of. Push Marlowe in the pool. Drag you out of the party, where Hitch and Marlowe and Jean or Marco or anyone can’t talk to you. See you. He hates it. Being possessive, getting jealous. He knows you’re not his. But he can’t fucking stand it. It makes his skin fucking burn thinking of an asshole like Marlowe even touching you, let alone kissing you.

“Earth to Ren?”

He looks back up to find you staring at him, awkwardly brushing your hands against your forearms. Right. Because you’re still waiting for a fucking answer and he can’t tell you. Tell you that the thought of another man touching you drives him crazy, that the only person who could touch you right, make you feel good was him.

“You’re doing that thing again. I can see the steam coming off of your head.”

He deflates, leaning against the counter as he watches you. You’re moving from the side, pressing the glass of water in your hand to the dispenser in the kitchen. It’s pissing him off even more. The thought of someone seeing you like this - bedhead in the morning, focused when you’re doing your makeup, half asleep on the couch. He can’t fucking stand it.

“So. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, Darth Vader. No need to growl at me.”

Fuck. Everything is pissing him off. Everything.

“Let’s think about something else, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it just….stop being so pissy.”

You’re at his side, circling the glass of water in your hand.

“Fine. The answer to the question. What was it?”

“What question, Ren?”

“The one Marlowe asked you. Before I pushed him in the pool.”

When was the last time you were kissed? In the bathroom, when Eren had his lips pressed to your neck.

“A real kiss, Y/N.”

Eren Yeager, mind reader.

“Oh. Um. A while ago, maybe a year? It was back when I was dating Floch.”

Eren turns his neck, his eyes flashing at you as you look at him. He looks less angry, his eyes more concerned than murderous like they were a few seconds ago.

“I don’t even think I can remember. I don’t know - he never really liked that stuff. Affection, compliments, all that.”

“Did you ask him to? Do that stuff?”

“At first, yeah. But he never did.”

Now he’s even more pissed. Because an asshole wanting to kiss you, him doing it all wrong is infuriating enough. But the fact that you had to ask someone to do it? He’d literally drop on his fucking knees if you gave him the chance and you had to ask someone for it?

Eren does the only thing he can. The only thing he knows how to do. He wraps his arms around you, tucking your face against his neck as he holds you.

It was either this or kissing you, full on like he wanted to. But he can’t really do that. So hugging it is. He hears you murmur against his shoulder, your arms pressing against his back.

“S’okay Eren. What are you so mad about?”

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it. And no. It’s not.”

“We don’t. But I think this is less about whatever happened and more about whatever just-”

He tightens his grip on you, the pressure of his arms silencing you.

“I’m mad because you should be kissed. Often. And by someone who knows how. Like they can’t get enough of you, like you’re the air they breathe, like you’re inventing kissing just by putting your lips together.”

Shit. He said too much.

You stand in silence, staring at him as he finishes talking. Oh he messed up big time.

He watches the smile spread across your face, your eyes still in the dim light of the kitchen. Stupid fucking glitter. He’s going to go into the bathroom and throw it out.

“Didn’t realize you cared so much, Ren.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Why do you?”

“Why do I what?”

“Care so much, Eren?”

You watch him constrict his fists again, his jaw clenched.

“Selfish reasons.”

You walk up to the counter where he’s leaning over, lacing your arm through his. You push your hands into his fists, forcing him to stop clenching his hands so hard. You can tell his anger is dissipating, his shoulders slowly tensing as you touch him.

“Selfish reasons?”

“I don’t want to see you unhappy or anything. You’re like...my best friend right now. Is it so weird that I want you to be happy?”

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. Fucking idiot.

“No, Ren. It’s not weird.”

You both stand like that for a while, your head pressed against his shoulder. He’s still tense, his heart pounding against your ear.

“So I say all this nice shit to you and you have nothing to say back?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing at all.”

You shake your head, watching him begrudingly smile at you as you two smile In the kitchen. You stand there for a while, the anger, awkwardness, wearing off. It’s just you two, standing in the light of your kitchen.

“You promised me a dance. You never even gave me one, Ren.”

“I’m not riding up on you, Y/N.”

“I’m heartbroken.”

You both laugh and Eren leans over, grabbing your phone from the side. He puts a song on - I Won’t Dance by Fred Astaire - and holds his hands out. You lean forward, knotting your hands behind his back as he presses his hands to your waist.

“You know Fred Astaire, Ren?”

“Old timey shit. My parents love it.”

You tangle your hands behind his neck, the two of you dancing in the dim light of your kitchen.

You hate this. That you want to lick all his wounds, hold him till his anger goes away. That you want to dance like this in the kitchen with him, all the time.

He hates this. That it’s this easy for you to fix it all for him. For you to make it better. That he wants to hold you, make you feel good every night.

Do you love each other?

next part linked here

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heich0e · 3 years ago

Note

#is there anyone who read this who would like a short piece on motorcycle college boy eren who exists in this universe

resisting the urge to barge through your door to scream a resounding YES I FUCKING WOULD

instead i am knocking politely and saying yes at a completely normal and respectable volume

if no one's got me I know you've got me ley ily

leave fast (part 0? part 0.5? who knows) eren/reader tags: modern au, college au, street racing au A/N: this takes place a few weeks before the drabble I posted earlier! if you haven't read that go read it first? or next? idk what I'm doing with this but it's something!

"When in the ever loving hell am I going to need to know half of this shit?"

Hitch tosses her head back woefully as she descends the stone steps outside of the science building. The late afternoon sunshine makes the ends of her sandy hair burn golden in their light.

Beside you Marlowe, Hitch's boyfriend and lab partner, watches her carefully. Half making sure she doesn't go tumbling down the stairs in the throes of her dramatic outburst and half enthralled by the sight of her.

You smile a little, stifling a laugh.

"I'm serious!" She picks up on the hiccup of a giggle you'd tried to swallow down, spinning around to shoot a glare your way. "When will I ever have the chance to practically apply my knowledge of the difference between myoglobin and hemoglobin?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" Marlowe asks, confusion seeping into his tone, while jogging down the four stairs ahead of you to stand cautiously behind Hitch as she starts to descend them backwards--her eyes still locked on you.

"No, they're not," you say off-handedly to Marlowe. You decide to spare him the text book difference between the two, holding back the comment that while they were both hemeproteins whose physiological importance was chiefly down to their ability to bind oxygen molecules, they were actually structurally very different. You suspect you'll need to help him with this unit come time for midterms.

You turn your attention back to girl in front of you. "If you hate the class then drop it. You don't have to take biochem for a chemistry major if you don't want to."

She rolls her eyes, hopping down off the last step safely. Marlowe visibly relaxes once she's on level ground.

"What's my other option? Thermodynamics? Gag me."

You laugh at your friend's dramatics, about to remind her that Thermodynamics is a requirement--at least if she wants to take Kinetics the following year (which she does)--when a shout of your name tears you from your train of thought, all three heads in your conversation turning towards the sound.

Eren is on the other side of the courtyard, hands clasped around his mouth to amplify his voice. When he catches your eye, he breaks into a grin, jogging briskly towards you.

"I'll see you guys later?" you say, slowly turning to Marlowe and Hitch with a sheepish smile.

Hitch rolls her eyes, but there's the ghost of a smirk tugging at her glossy lips. "I see Eren's back on the fly-list. Marlowe, make sure you update the countdown when we get home."

"Countdown?" you ask as the couple begins to walk away.

"Days since last Eren-related foolishness is back to 0!" Hitch calls back over her shoulder, waggling her fingers at you in a taunting wave. Marlowe shoots you an apologetic look that makes your hope that she's only joking about the countdown a little more fleeting.

"Hey! He- oh sorry!" You turn just in time to see Eren hop over the short stone wall in front of him in what you can only assume is an effort to save the 2 seconds it would have taken him to walk three steps around it. He jostles a passerby in the process, steadying them for a moment while he apologizes before stepping away.

He takes two loping steps, a bit breathless from his unexpected parkour, until he's standing toe to toe with you. You watch as he tucks a piece of his tousled hair behind his ear. It’s getting long again, you note—not quite chin length but well on its way. He’d soon be able to start tying it back again without the strands slipping out from his hair tie like they presently are.

He smiles down at you.

"Hey."

"Hi," you say softly, lips curling up instinctively in response to his own expression, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to take you home. I know today’s your long day so I thought maybe we could get something to eat on the way?" Eren tilts his head, the hair he'd just tucked behind his ear falling out once more.

"Wasn't your last class on the other side of campus? How did you make it here so fast?" You reach up, gently urging the tendril back where it belonged.

"I can be pretty fast when I need to be," Eren replies, catching your hand before you can draw it away from his face, threading his fingers through your own.

His palms are always so warm.

"You ditched class early, huh?" you say with an eyebrow raised wryly.

He dips down a little closer, his nose brushing yours. "Only by ten minutes.”

“That’s precious time of your very expensive higher-education that you’re letting go to waste,” you barely even whisper the words given how close he is. When your lips form the ‘w’ sound in ‘waste’ your lips purse enough to brush against his own.

He hums thoughtfully. “I think it was worth it.”

You lean forward, tired of the game the two of you are playing, pressing your mouth to his.

Eren’s hands immediately reach to cup your face in those same, warm hands, in the exact way he always does—tilting your chin up towards him so he doesn’t have to lean down quite as far, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks as he pulls back slightly, dark lashes fluttering over soft green eyes as he risks a glance at you, only to immediately kiss you again.

You relax into the familiarity of it.

“Eren,” you mumble his name against his mouth. You pull back but his mouth chases yours, kissing you again.

You place both hands on his chest, holding him at bay as you withdraw a little more insistently.

“We’re in the middle of campus,” you say, albeit reluctantly. “One of my professors could walk out and see us.”

Eren cracks a sheepish grin.

“Sorry I,” he clears his throat, stepping back to put some space between you and scratching at his neck, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“You saw me yesterday,” you tease him, wiping discretely at your lips with the edge of your sleeve.

“I’m just glad that we’re back together, is all.”

You smile.

You are too.

Because this time things are going to be different. This time it’s going to work.

“So where did you want to go eat?” Eren asks, slipping his hand into your own and dragging you along behind him as you make your way towards the parking lot.

“Hm, somewhere close, ’m tired,” you say, leaning into his arm a little as you walk side by side. His fingers tighten their grip as he peeks down at you.

“Sorry I kept you up pretty late last night,” he says, his voice dropping quieter—so that no unsuspecting passersby might hear the implication heavy in his tone.

You cheeks go hot. You bite the tip of your tongue lightly.

“I didn’t mind it.”

His fingers squeeze again.

Eren drops your hand as you turn the corner to the parking lot, his motorcycle parked just outside the entrance to campus.

“Oh,” you say with a swallow, a bit surprised. “You brought your bike.”

Eren looks back at you as he works to free his helmet from where he’d looped it over the handlebar. He pauses when he sees the look on your face.

“Hey,” he says, stepping up to you again. He places a hand on your waist and gently pulls you flush to him—the planes of his body solid against your own as he wraps himself around you. “I meant what I said. No more racing. I didn’t even break the speed limit on my way to class today.”

You shoot him a look.

“Okay, maybe just by a bit,” he admits with a soft laugh and a little scrunch of his nose. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You feel his warm breath on your skin as he pulls away, resting his chin on your head as he holds you to him just a bit tighter. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You sigh.

“Of course I do.”

Eren pulls away, holding his helmet out to you to put on.

You eye it skeptically for a moment: the deep green design swirling through the inky black of the reinforced outer shell, the way the waning sunlight glints golden off the intricate pattern of wings printed onto the side--the same pattern printed on the beloved motorcycle a few feet away. They’d look almost delicate if the sight of them didn’t turn your stomach.

You reach out and take the helmet.

Things will be different this time.

They have to be.

#narrator voice: things WILL be different this time it's just that they'll be WORSE #eren drabble #eren x reader #writing #liv got mail #aot drabble #aot writing

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marlovve · 3 years ago

Text

@ofseok

marlowe was officially in for it now, she was sure of that. she’d never meant for things to end up the way they were turning out to . . . but that was life. and she hated it. knowing everything had a place and belonged in that place was one of the small wonders in marlowe’s life. this chaos, this mismatched order was enough to make her skin itch. catching sight of minseok, she tried to wave him down and usher him over towards her. “oh, minseok, can i speak to you for a moment, please?” granted, she’s not sure where the formalities came from, but hoped it might soften the blow. she didn’t wait for him to come over to her; the blonde actually went to meet him in the middle of the hotel’s hallway. “so -- hypothetically speaking -- if someone, let’s just say, was going around boasting about knowing you but they didn’t and it got back to you, what would you do? how would you feel about it, i mean?” she was trying not to make the situation so on-the-nose, but it was proving difficult.

#𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞 . conversations #&& minseok.

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seireinoryuu · 4 years ago

Text

Of peach-pink lipstick and dead frogs.

Rating: K

Pairing: Mikahisto

Description: For the first time in her entire high school life, Historia Reiss sat alone under the courtyard’s old oak tree. Highschool AU

Notes: Yes I know Hange is technically the chemistry teacher in this environment but whatever.

ao3 II ff.net

For the first time in her entire high school life, Historia Reiss sat alone under the courtyard's old oak tree. It was lunchtime; usually, she'd be surrounded by her gaggle of friends. Ymir would be hanging off her shoulder, Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover playing catch—or attempting to play catch. Most of the time Bertolt often missed his catches, usually landing face first in the grass. Reiner would laugh, stealing glances her way to see if she was laughing too. It was funny the first few times, then it became incredibly boring after the thirtieth fall. Hitch and Marlowe would be in the back bickering about something she has long since tuned out.

Historia wasn't used to sitting alone like this. She tried to maintain her usual air by crossing her legs and staring at whatever notification popped up on her phone, but soon that became boring too.

Yet, despite the lack of her usual company, Historia did not hate the solitude at all.

Still, she had nothing to do and so continued staring at her phone, scrolling back and forth on her news feed to find something—anything—engaging. She heard voices and briefly looked up to see Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, and Mikasa Ackerman walk by. Armin was, per usual, chatting about something regarding the latest game he had been playing and some tactic he managed to pull off that scored big points while Eren kept walking. Mikasa tagged along, a rather thick black book in the crook of her arm.

Mikasa briefly looked her way and Historia averted her gaze back to her phone, pretending as if she never noticed them. It was a few minutes later when she looked up again, the trio was halfway across the courtyard.

"Next month, we will have dissections!" exclaimed the biology teacher Hange Zoe. The entire class remained silent but there was a definite air of dread hanging over everyone. Hange, apparently the only one who was excited about the project, walked through the tables of her classroom, handing out one piece of paper on each table.

"This is a review worksheet in preparation for the unit. Each of you will be working with your table partner for this. No changing partners!"

Usually, Historia would pair up with Marlowe since they were in the same class, but he had been keeping his distance and moved to the table on the other side of the room, making Marco Bott his partner for this project.

She turned to the seat beside her to see a girl dressed in all black writing her name on the paper before sliding it to her.

Mikasa Ackerman was her partner.

"Reiss. Reiss."

"Hmmm?"

"There's a spider on your shoulder."

"Where!"

Every head in the classroom looked in their direction. Historia's cheeks burned as she plopped back on her seat, wiping her shoulders.

"There's no spider."

Historia glared at the goth girl, who merely shrugged.

"Time to do your part," she said, sliding the paper towards Historia. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and glanced at the questions; she understood none of them but was in awe of Mikasa Ackerman's neat handwriting.

They were in the library.

Historia could not answer a single question on the sheet, and Mikasa refused to cover for her and so Hange Zoe assigned them extra homework. At Hange's suggestion, they were to come to her classroom after school for assistance if needed. Well, if Historia needed assistance. Mikasa managed to answer half the questions on her own so Historia doubted she would have any trouble answering the rest. If only she wasn't so freaking stubborn. Ymir would have answered these without her having to ask.

Too bad Ymir wasn't talking to her either. The biggest surprise there.

They sat opposite each other on the table, Historia hunched over the worksheet while Mikasa rested her chin on her palm, her fingers tapping the surface of the table. Lightly, but to Historia it sounded like she might as well have been beating a drum.

"Would you stop that?" she snapped.

"Why are you taking so long? This is literally labeling animal kingdoms."

Historia glared and returned to the current problem she was on.

"Historia, is this class hard for you?"

She remained silent, still staring at the problem in front of her. The same problem she had been working on for the past seven minutes.

Mikasa slid into the chair next to her, pulling out a blank piece of notebook paper. "So there are six animal kingdoms . . . ."

Cheerleading practice was to be indoors today. It was raining outside, so Coach Dietrich managed to secure half of the gym for them. The other half belonged to the volleyball team; there was a net that stretched from one side to the next, separating the two teams.

Historia was in the process of forming the top of the pyramid, a privilege given her short stature. It was no secret that everyone on the team was envious that she was always picked to be on the top. She ignored their whispers; she can't combat genetics. As long as her teammates catch her, then that was all she cared about.

"T-I-T-A-N-S!" she shouted, following the same formations Dietrich drilled into them. From up above Historia could see the volleyball team practicing. She saw Mikasa among them, having discarded her jewelry and exchanged her usual dark, long-sleeved shirt, dark-colored skirt, and combat boots for tank top and shorts with knee pads (all in black of course). Her black hair, which was usually pulled into two twin tails behind her head was now one ponytail, her bangs held away from her face by a red headband.

Historia was startled by Coach Dietrich's whistle, allowing herself to drop into the arms of her teammates.

"Historia, you okay?" asked her teammate, Mina Carolina. "You were spacing out up there."

Historia waved her hand. Thankfully, Dietrich called for a break. A five-minute break, but a break nonetheless. Historia took a seat on the bleachers, taking a long gulp from her water bottle. Mikasa was now in the front row, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Someone on her side of the net shouted something and Mikasa jumped, one arm raised above her head and coming down onto the ball, slamming it onto the floor on the other side of the net. Her form was very graceful.

The gym doors opened and the football team trudged in, soaked from the rain. Reiner appeared followed by Bertolt. Reiner glanced her way then looked away, jaw tense. It was only Bertolt who held her gaze a little longer, before following his friend.

Historia took another long sip from her water bottle until it was empty.

Again, they were in the library. Marco Bott had joined them because, according to Mikasa, he's a wiz at this stuff. Historia was a little surprised to hear that someone was smarter than Mikasa, though everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Besides, if Marco and Mikasa are willing to help then all the better.

They had been studying for over an hour until they finally called a break. Marco went to the bathroom and offered to buy them all snacks, leaving just Historia and Mikasa alone.

"So . . . volleyball, huh?" Historia began. She mentally cringed at how obvious she was trying to create small talk.

Mikasa took no notice of it, flipping through her notes. "Yep. Been on the team since last year."

"Really?" Historia never knew that Mikasa was on the volleyball team last year. Of course, the cheer team rarely attends other sporting teams aside from football or basketball, but still. If Mikasa has been on the team since last year, especially with her skills, Historia would have at least heard about it from the others. "I never pegged you for a volleyball player. You just . . . didn't seem that type."

At that Mikasa gave her an incredulous look. "Seriously? Why? Just because of how I dress?" Mikasa scoffed. Historia didn't mean it that way, but she could see how Mikasa would interpret her words like that. Mikasa snorted. "You'd know that if you paid attention."

Historia said nothing, fidgeting with her hands. Then she sighed, her lips pulling into a grimace. "Yeah, you're right."

After a few minutes of silence, Mikasa then spoke. "I have a game. This Friday. A home game against Orvud High. You can come if you want."

Historia glanced at Mikasa. The taller girl kept looking at the wall next to her as if it had something remarkably interesting, and Historia noticed she had a pink tinge on her cheeks. It was adorable.

"Sure," she grinned.

Marco then returned with snacks in hand. He had a bag of chips for each of them, though Historia preferred the little stack of cookies from the vending machines. Marco apologized profusely, but Historia reassured him it was okay, and there was always next time.

Historia sat by herself in the bleachers as the Trost volleyball team jogged onto the court, earning the applause of the crowd. Immediately, she caught sight of Mikasa, wearing the red uniform of their school and the matching red headband. Mikasa looked in her direction and waved. Historia waved back until a few seats below her, Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert, Sasha Blouse, Connie Springer, and Jean Kirstein waved back, standing on their feet and whooping. Historia blushed; maybe she wasn't waving at her. Maybe she didn't see her.

Regardless, Historia stayed.

It was a gripping game; many volleys back and forth on the courts, lots of shouting and dives. Historia was in awe of Mikasa's prowess on the court, how she dashed, jumped, dived, and spiked the ball onto the other side of the net. It was apparent the other team too was in awe and even scared as well. Historia couldn't help but beam when it was Mikasa's turn to serve and Orvud High tensed, some backing away in fear of the force in which Mikasa served the ball.

And the crowd loved every minute.

Really the cheerleading team should cheer for the volleyball players.

Historia cheered in her own way and stood up with the crowd when they won. Historia made her way down the bleachers when it was over. She had just reached the floor when Mikasa appeared in front of her.

"Glad you came," she said. Her gray eyes shined bright, flushed with the adrenaline of victory.

"Yeah. That was a good game. And congrats on the win."

"Thanks. I saw you up there. I even waved at you. You should have joined my friends; they were a few seats below you."

Oh.

"I—I—"

"Mikasa!" another volleyball player came by, tackling Mikasa in a hug. "Awesome play back there." She high-fived Mikasa, which was when she noticed Historia. She didn't say anything and turned back to Mikasa. "Let's head back to the locker rooms. Coach needs to give her post-game speech."

"Right." Mikasa then turned back to her. "Hey, why don't you join me and my friends later? It's tradition for us to go out for dinner after a win."

Historia glanced at Mikasa's friends. All of them were chatting happily with each other. Sasha Blouse suddenly struck a pose much to Jean Kirstein's chagrin and the others in the group were laughing. She wasn't part of this group of friends, never ever was. She used to think they were an insane bunch, and she was sure they still remember her attitude towards them. "I dunno—"

"I want you to," she said. With that, Mikasa ran off with her team for the post-game speech from her coach.

It was the most awkward moment of Historia's life.

Standing in front of the locker rooms, leaning against the wall just outside the circle Mikasa's friends had formed. They were talking about a bunch of random things. Armin about some random update in a game he has been playing and his new strategy to boost his guild. Connie was fully engrossed though it was clear he was just as lost as her. Sasha was daydreaming about food while Eren and Jean shook their heads in amusement.

"Historia."

Historia looked up as Eren called her, having separated from the group, and approached her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I called you three times and you didn't answer."

"I'm fine."

"You waiting on someone? I don't think Reiner had football practice at all today."

"I'm not waiting on Reiner."

"She's waiting on me."

Mikasa appeared, her volleyball uniform exchanged for her typical darker clothes. The silver jewelry also returned as well as her signature black lipstick. However, Historia noticed Mikasa had skipped out on the dark eyeshadow.

"I invited her to come to dinner."

It was clear everyone in the group had questions. Connie opened his mouth to ask why but Sasha quickly shut him up with a playful chokehold. That seemed to send a message to everyone else. Sasha was the first one to speak.

"Let's go! I'm going to die of starvation; we don't even know where we're going to eat!"

"Hell's Kitchen," Mikasa said automatically.

"No."

"Let's go someplace with Wifi—"

"Armin, you're not playing games while we celebrate Mikasa's victory."

Historia couldn't help but laugh as she followed them.

She reached for the last chocolate milk at the same time another hand appeared. She looked up, following the tall, lanky body of Bertolt Hoover.

"Bertolt," she greeted. The tall boy pulled his hand back and said nothing. Historia took the last carton. "How are things?"

Again, Bertolt remained silent. Someone else appeared, Annie Leonhardt. She peered into the fridge where all the milk was kept. "Out of chocolate milk." She clicked her tongue and walked away. Historia glanced at Bertolt who was watching her go. Historia rolled her eyes.

"You're really lame you know."

Historia marched up to the counter, paid for the milk, and placed it on Bertolt's tray. "There. Give that to Annie. She likes to eat by herself in the back of the school near the JV fields."

"What?"

"Annie. JV fields. Don't give me that look Bertolt. I know. Everybody knows. Annie likely doesn't since she's almost never here. Just give it to her. Now go, before things get more awkward."

Despite how short she was compared to Bertolt, Historia managed to push him in the direction Annie went. He tensed and looked back at her. Historia nodded, and with a deep breath, went in the same direction as Annie.

Mikasa wanted to study at her place. There wasn't any real reason for why, just that she wanted to be at home. Historia had no objection to that. Mikasa's goading by saying her mother had some snacks at home for them to munch on wasn't really needed for her to say yes, but she still looked forward to having a snack or two.

Mikasa's home was a modest apartment in the city where she lived with her mother (Mikasa is literally the spitting image of her mother, Historia thought). Her mother worked as an accountant. Her father died when she was ten (Historia had to do a double-take when showed a picture of Mikasa's father; she didn't believe Mikasa when she said that was her biological dad), and ever since then, it had just been Mikasa and her mom.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" asked Mrs. Ackerman as she set a plate of cookies in Mikasa's room where they were studying. "I don't mind if you do."

"Mom."

"Oh. Um, if you're alright with it, sure."

Mrs. Ackerman smiled brightly. "Great! I'm making spaghetti tonight, so I hope you're in the mood for that." She left the girls alone and they continued studying. After some time passed, they decided to stop.

"Ugh, my brain is overflowing with biology," Historia whined, leaning back into her seat.

"Aah."

Historia craned her neck to see Mikasa's look of horror, her eye shadow smudged all the way down to her cheek. Mikasa stood up, moving to her dresser's mirror and pouting at the damage. She pulled out a pack of makeup wipes, cleaning her face of her makeup. "And I was so proud of it too."

"I've always wondered what you used to do your makeup," Historia said, standing next to Mikasa and examining her makeup stand. "Now I get to see how you do your thing. And I'm not really surprised by the color choice either." She laughed.

Mikasa's entire makeup stand was in all shades of deep, dark, and mysterious. Dark lipstick, dark eye shadow, dark eyeliner. She had a few lighter colors, but it was clear Mikasa was more prone to a certain end of the spectrum. Historia picked up a used tube of dark red lipstick aptly named 'Blood Wine.'

"Your favorite?" she asked, holding up the tube.

Mikasa nodded. "This I use more since it can go with anything." Mikasa held up a very, very used tube which was named 'Black Soul.' Historia chuckled, glancing at the rest of Mikasa's makeup display before noticing a small peach pink lipstick.

"This is such a cute color. You should use it!" Historia could only laugh at the look of disgust on Mikasa's features. "You should! Why did you buy it if you were never going to use it?"

"I didn't buy it," she said. "It was a gift. From my cousin Levi for my fourteenth birthday. I told him I liked makeup, but he didn't know what shade to get."

Historia nodded. "Well, I still think you should at least give it a try. I think it would look cute on you. Oh, I know! For one day—just one day—why don't you try a girly style?" At Mikasa's incredulous look, Historia quickly added, "Just for one day, that's it." She held up one finger. "I can imagine all the hilarious looks you'd get if you did that."

Mikasa paused. "Okay, I'll try it. But you're going to do this with me. So that means, you are going to dress up goth." Mikasa smirked, a mischievous light dancing in her eyes.

"Deal. We pick out each other's outfits and do makeup. No way I can replicate your style. Besides, I want to look like a vampire queen." She raised her hands in the air, forming claws and hissing. Mikasa laughed, a big hearty kind of laugh, and it sent Historia's heart racing.

"This is going to be fun."

The looks she received in school the next day were so entertaining. Clad in all black and dramatic makeup, her blonde hair as the only piece of color in her ensemble, Historia walked through the doors of the school with purpose. All heads turned to her. Historia couldn't help but lift her chin and walk like a regal queen. A regal vampire queen.

She passed by Reiner. She almost laughed at his double-take as she walked down the hall. Ymir was just around the corner too, her eyes wide.

While she felt like an all-powerful goddess of darkness, she still had to go to class. Opening her locker briefly interrupted the dark gothic image as she exchanged her government textbook for her biology one. There was a light tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to see Hitch.

"Oh," was all she said.

"Hello, Hitch," greeted Historia. "Do you need something?"

Hitch paused. "Uh, no. I—um," Hitch stared at something behind Historia. "That's a new look for you."

"Oh, thanks!" Historia beamed. "I was going for a vampire queen look. Do I make for a good vampire queen?"

Hitch drew a blank stare, clearly not used to such a light response from her. Someone called Historia's name and both girls turned as Mikasa Ackerman, wearing a pink sweater with a lacy collar, pink polka dot skirt, black stockings, and a pair of rose-gold ballet flats, approach. Her peach-tinted lips quirked upwards. It was also clear that Mikasa couldn't help but bob her head up and down, playing with the bouncy half curls in her dark hair.

"Hey," she greeted. "Ready to head to class?"

"Yep! Let's go!" Historia closed her locker, joining Mikasa and making their way down the hall. "I really like the hair clip. It's cute."

A slight pink shade dusted the bridge of Mikasa's nose. "Thanks. It's actually my mom's." It was a simple little red bow that swept her bangs to the side instead of her usual fringe. "Love the smokey eye shadow. It really makes your eyes pop. I like your eyes."

Historia's stomach flipped at the compliment. She always received compliments on her eyes but hearing it from Mikasa just seemed to floor her.

"Do I look like a vampire queen?"

Mikasa laughed. "Yes. You do look like a terrifying vampire queen."

Dissection day came and Historia dreaded it. She was prepared, she went over the material hundreds of times. Marco and Mikasa helped her, but she still dreaded it. She lost so much sleep too. Just imagining the little frog corpse, cutting through the flesh, and seeing all its insides.

Historia shuddered.

Historia sat at her desk, fidgeting with her thumbs. Mikasa was silent, but she occasionally glanced at Historia and at her twiddling thumbs. All the items were laid out before them and the two girls snapped on a pair of gloves. Then the frog was laid out on the table before them.

Mikasa had grabbed the scalpel before her. "I'll do the physical stuff, you fill out the worksheet."

Historia had never felt more grateful.

They got an A.

Mikasa and Historia decided to hang out at Historia's place this time. There wasn't an actual reason why. They had no tests to study for, no projects to complete, no upcoming dissections. There weren't even any games either. They just wanted to hang out.

"Hello!" Historia's elder half-sister, Frieda, greeted Mikasa, flashing her a bright smile. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'm not sure," said Mikasa simply. "Oh, I'm Mikasa, by the way."

"Oh shoot, my apologies. I'm Frieda." The dark-haired girl shook Mikasa's hand, flashing another one of her bright smiles. "Nice to meet you!"

Historia gripped Mikasa's sleeve, tugging her to follow. Mikasa noted the pout forming on her lips.

"Sorry, I gotta go. It was nice meeting you."

Mikasa followed Historia, allowing the blonde woman to practically drag her to her room. Despite Historia's demeanor in school, the décor of her room was plain. She had a simple dresser and mirror. A small makeup stand, and a simple closet. Historia's room was simple. Well, mostly simple. Historia's bed was rather large, and the frame was intricate with fancy drapery around it. Not to mention it was also quite big.

A hand waving across her face broke her out of her thoughts. Historia giggled.

"Oh shush," Mikasa said, her cheeks burning.

"Sorry for rushing you earlier. My half-sister can be a chatterbox at times," said Historia.

"It's fine," she replied, stepping closer to the dresser and looking at the photos on top. Some were of Historia through the years, others with her and her sister or her other siblings and family members. Though she did notice the lack of pictures of her friends.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What happened to you and the others?" she asked. Historia gave her a confused look to which she continued. "Reiner, Bertolt, Ymir and the rest."

Historia lay down on the bed, staring straight at the ceiling.

"I kissed Ymir," she said. Mikasa said nothing, prompting her to continue. "We were all hanging out at Hitch's one day. She had a Wii, but only three controls. Hitch, Marlowe, and Bertolt were playing. Reiner wouldn't stop talking, and then there was Ymir, and so I kissed her, on the lips, in front of everyone." She half laughed. "Man, you should have seen the looks on all their faces. Then after that—" she shrugged "—it is what it is."

"Do you regret it?"

Historia shook her head. "No. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. Like as if I didn't have to hide that anymore since it was all out in the open. I'm disappointed they all just stopped talking to me like that, but it proved that none of them were really my friends."

Mikasa sat next to Historia on the bed.

"Do you want to try?" she asked, her voice tiny.

Historia sat up, staring at Mikasa. Did she hear right? Mikasa didn't look at her, but there was a lovely shade of red on her cheeks.

"Do you?" she asked. "I mean, do you want to?"

Mikasa paused, the blush becoming more prominent. After another moment, she nodded.

Historia's heart began to race but she calmed herself down. She sat on her knees, back straight as she faced Mikasa. Mikasa turned towards her too, her face red as a tomato but with determination in her eyes. No wavering, no doubt in those gray pools. It was as if Mikasa felt the same as well.

Historia leaned forward, closing her eyes. Every inch felt like a mile, every second like an eternity, but it was an instant and she felt soft lips against hers. The scent of Mikasa's hair—coconut milk—filled her nose, and the warmth of the other girl so near. And then all too soon, it was over.

Historia opened her eyes. Mikasa sat back, eyes fixed on something on her sheet while one hand covered her mouth. Historia's stomach dropped.

"Not really into it?" she asked.

"What? No, no," she said, her voice raising an octave higher. She blushed again when she realized how loud she was. "No, it's not that." She paused, trying to think of what to say next. "It's just, I got nervous. I thought you might have had expectations."

Historia paused, then giggled. "Mikasa. You're so cute." She giggled again. "I don't know what made you think I was like that. It's not like I've kissed a plethora of other girls." Her face felt warm. "It's only been you and Ymir. I've only had enough courage to kiss you two."

"Right. Yeah."

"But—" she fidgeted in her seat "—you're the only one I like. I like you and I can proudly say I got to kiss the girl I like."

"Sure. Like as if we'd really say that was a kiss," she replied sarcastically. "But I want to try again." Mikasa leaned closer. "Because I like you too. I like you a lot."

Historia blinked once. Twice. She wanted to ask Mikasa to say it again, to confirm that she heard Mikasa correctly. She doubted she'd get her to say it though. Mikasa was still blushing immensely, even with the determined look in her gray eyes. Honestly, if things were reversed and Mikasa had asked her, Historia knew she wouldn't be able to say it again.

So instead of asking her, Historia leaned in. She took Mikasa's face in her hands, happy the other girl didn't flinch. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Mikasa's. The kiss was different this time. For one, it was longer, much longer than the first one. Deeper, as she opened her mouth against Mikasa's. Historia could tell that Mikasa was enjoying this as well as her, which made it even better. Historia gently took Mikasa's lower lip, tugging it before putting space between them.

Both girls were silent for a long moment, and then they started laughing.

"I think we may need to keep working on that," said Historia.

"I agree," said Mikasa.

Historia sat alone under the courtyard's old oak tree. She was dressed in her cheerleading uniform, her pompoms in a gym bag next to her. She was waiting, flicking through the notifications on her phone. It wasn't long before a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sunlight. She looked up, covering her eyes as she took in the sight of Reiner Braun's hulking figure.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi, Reiner."

"Can I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the bench. Historia nodded, throwing her gym bag to the ground, and scooting over to give the bigger man enough room. "How have you been?"

"Good. I'm in my cheerleader uniform—" she gestured to her herself "—so soon I'll be leaving for the cheer team tonight."

"Girls' Volleyball team, right? I heard it was you who pushed for the cheer team to be at one of their games," he said. He chuckled at Historia's proud nod. "I hear they've been doing very good this year."

"Yep!" she beamed. "And if we win today's game, we qualify for the semi-finals."

"'We' huh?" Reiner said. "It's been a long time since I've heard you say that. Back when that 'we' meant you and I."

"Reiner I—" Historia paused. "Reiner, there was never a 'you and I' between us."

Reiner nodded. There wasn't a sad look in his eye, just an accepted look. "I know. I guess I've always known, but I never fully realized it until then." He paused. "A lot of people said we looked good together and I guess hearing all that made me a fool."

Historia nodded. "I should apologize Reiner. I should have said—"

He shook his head. "No need to apologize. We both played into it, and it almost seemed real. Almost. It's different with you and Mikasa." He smiled cordially. "You'll still be cheering for the football team in the playoffs, right?"

"Definitely."

"Awesome." Then Reiner stood up. "Well, I'll be heading out now. Ma wants me to watch over my cousin while her parents work late. Maybe I can bring her over for the game."

"That would be great! See you around."

Reiner waved goodbye and left.

A few minutes later, another figure approached, this time the lanky figure of Ymir.

"'Sup?" she greeted, taking Reiner's old seat. "So, you're heading over to today's volleyball game. And the entire cheer team will be there. That's exciting."

"Yep! And then if we win, we'll be in the semifinals."

"Neat. How have you been?"

"Well. And you?"

"No complaints. I hear you and Mikasa Ackerman are a thing. Never thought Goth Girl would tickle your fancy."

"Mikasa is honestly really cool," said Historia. "She's really smart, good with makeup, and is amazing at volleyball—well, actually any sport you can think of. You should've seen her on the basketball court—"

"Whoa, girl. No need to try and make me jealous now! Especially of Goth Girl," Ymir laughed. "You know, you've changed." At Historia's inquisitive look, Ymir added, "You're just more . . . spirited. I don't think I've ever seen that in you, Historia."

"Oh. Thank you."

Ymir nodded, a smile spreading across her lips. "Well, I better get going then. Just wanted to check up on you."

"Wait, Ymir," Historia called. When the other girl looked back, she added, "Why don't you come and watch the game tonight?"

Ymir laughed. "Nah, sports were never really my thing. Watching the Big Lug run around bored me to death. I only went because everyone else did. I'll be fine; I'm going to the arcade anyways. Ya'll have fun."

With a wave, Ymir left.

Historia leaned back in the bench, pulling up her phone again. She went through all the notifications, read all the status updates, and thumbed a like wherever she felt like it. And then suddenly she was in the dark, cool fingers gently covering her eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Oh, let's see," Historia giggled. She pulled the other person's hands down and looked up. "It's Mikasa!"

The other girl laughed. "Were you waiting long?"

Historia shook her head, standing up and throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Nope, not really. I mean I had a few people come by and chat with me."

"Like whom?"

"I'll tell you on the way there. Let's get going or else we'll be late!" She took Mikasa's hand and together they made their way out of the courtyard.

#mikahisu #mikakuri #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #mikasa x historia #fanfiction #carly wrote something #i haven't been on this site for like a hot minute why can't I center things??????#*stressy wessy outsy*#mikasa ackerman #historia reiss

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nialltlynch · 4 years ago

Text

(cw insects, generalized grossness)

There are enough parts in her bed to make a whole body when Alice wakes up that morning.

Legs and skin and wings scattered on her pillow beside her face. She blows on the pillow and whatever is left she brushes with her hand to the floor. She'll have to vacuum again.

It's worse in autumn, always worse in autumn, but Alice has found a routine that mostly keeps things contained. She checks the traps (empty), the cracks along the walls (pristine), and stoops on her hands and knees to peer into the pesky nooks and crannies (untouched). Alice likes to keep a clean home and she likes to think she does a good job.

Yesterday had been dreary and this morning's gray sky promises more of the same. She takes her morning tea neat and herbal instead of the usual creamy and black to fight the growing congestion in her sinuses.

"I think I'm coming down with something," she says into the phone as she watches one of the bluebirds pecking at the ground near the edge of the tiny grass patch three stories down that her apartment complex calls ample outdoor space.

"You get that bug going around?" her boss asks.

Marlowe is too decent and too soft to be a good boss, but that's what makes him a good boss. He won't be around long, Alice can already tell. She can tell because she's been around long enough to be crowned most senior junior employee at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. Ten years next March.

"I don't know. I just think I'm coming down with something."

"Verne was out last week. Said it's a bitch to deal with but everything's a bitch to Verne. Rest up, Alice. You'll need it when you get back."

And then he hangs up and the bluebird flies away with nothing in its beak.

The sinus congestion worsens over the morning. By the time she's fixing up her second cup of tea, her head is a pounding mess, her chest flutters whenever she breathes in, and an insistent ball of phlegm grows right at the top of her throat. Luckily nothing is quite leaking out of her yet and so she finds time to tidy up the rest of her small apartment.

If she drew a picture of her apartment it would be three shrinking blocks in a row. The first and largest being the sitting room/open kitchen combo area, then her bedroom, and lastly a small square less than half the size of her bedroom that makes up the bathroom.

Alice's routine starts from the top down. She drags a two-tiered step stool over the thick cream colored carpet to peer up on the high places, the tops of shelves and things usually out of sight. Each light bulb gets unscrewed and inspected. A toothpick clears the fine edges of the crown molding. She runs her palm along the top of the fan blades and it comes back a little sticky with the old cleaner she'd sprayed up there last night.

Next come the walls, the window treatments, and the doors and shelves. She coughs a little when she checks the window facing the parking structure outside. Her nose may be plugged but the rotting smell of old trash and piss still crawls up through her nostrils. City life is grand.

By now her teacup is empty again though the porcelain is still a little warm to the touch like a sigh against her hand. Alice knows the floors are next but that is the part she hates the most. Another cup would probably be best. For her throat, of course.

The hot water in the kitchen sink has never been reliable but it's exceedingly ornery today. It sputters and protests, gushing briefly with a flow that splashes against the shallow sink and onto the counter before settling into what could best de described as a meek trickle. She leaves her flaking tin kettle under the stream and goes to clean the counter. The paper towel comes away wet but clean. She unfolds it and holds it close to her face, checking for any bits and pieces and finds none.

The hot water has all but given up, now coming out in teasing quick drops, so Alice takes the loss and forgets about the third cup of tea. That wasn't in her budget for this week anyway.

She grabs a clean glass and pours some water from her filtered pitcher, trying to convince herself the chill against her throat will be soothing. It isn't. Something inside her sinuses feels like it's expanding, trying to crack through her skull.

The floors will have to wait. She feels that tickle in her throat again, smells that nauseating garbage stench filling her mouth again. She coughs. It's probably best to close the window. With the window closed, the apartment feels smaller, more cramped than it already is.

When she sets the glass on the counter, three long specks are floating on the surface.

The fan only wafts a gentle scent of stinging industrial cleaner as it whines overhead. The sound of it grates on Alice's nerves but she'd rather have the physical discomfort than the cloying dread that came when she sat in the stillness of the apartment without it on. Every shadow felt like it was skittering across the walls, the furniture. More than once Alice thought she saw something littering her floors only for it to disappear when she looked at it head on.

The stress of that little head game is exhausting enough.

Since her second cup of tea, Alice has been quietly spread out on the couch with a now cold moist towel covering her eyes. She doesn't have a migraine, doesn't usually get them, but the sensation and the darkness were preferable.

The walls of her apartment are thin. Less a barrier to keep things out and more a flimsy reminder of all that could possibly get in. Everything gets in eventually. The sooty spread of black mold creeping in through the pipes. The sound of her neighbors shuffling up and down and up and down at two in the morning. The wind and the chill see her walls and laugh as they swirl around her room every winter.

So Alice doesn't think much of the sound when she first hears it. It's too quiet to focus on at first (just another drop in the orchestra) but the dark sharpens her senses. She swears she can feel it in her chest, right there beside her heart.

When Alice had been a child, younger and already a joy and so well behaved, she had an older cousin twice removed or great aunt or maybe Ms. Griggs was simply a nosy old woman who loved spending her time nitpicking Alice and her mother on Tuesday nights. Whatever her relation might have been, Alice's mother was deferential to Ms. Griggs in the same stooped way Alice's mother had been deferential to Alice's then and now absent father. This, an important lesson Alice had learned very early, was the way of adult relationships.

The other important lesson Ms. Griggs had taught her wasn't even intentional. Ms. Griggs had a love for those miniature sausages that came in a can and even though Alice and her mother often bonded over the terrible taste, the absurdity of their existence, the underwhelming experience that these little meat sticks provided, Alice's mother still kept a can or two on hand for Tuesday nights. Alice will never forget the sound they made when Ms. Griggs bit into one. Halfway between a pop and a slurp.

It's this sound Alice hears now every time few times her heart pumps.

A pulse. Pop. A pulse. Slurp.

She reaches for her chest, fingers prodding her skin for the gaps between her ribs. She wants to inspect the lining of her heart, manipulate the chambers between her fingers, force her blood to pump until she finds he exact moment it pops and slurps.

She hears it again and this time it doesn't feel like it's by her heart but at he base of her throat. If she could reach behind her collar bone, what would she find?

Again. A little higher.

Again. Now squeezing through her airway. She heaves in a breath and the muscled tube of her throat contracts around something that shouldn't be there. Her palm slides along her skin in the same path the thing had taken until she can feel it there, oblong and protruding from her throat like an adam's apple. She holds her breath. She tries to suspend her heart beats. She waits.

It trembles in articulated pops as it crawls up her throat. She can feel the tiny blunt needles dotting inside her and the laborious drag as it moves up and up and up. The window must have cracked open or been shattered while she's been sitting here in the dark. That pervasive putrid stench lives in her mouth now.

Alice waits.

#kk writing #original fiction #not fic #featuring one of my time honored ''favorite'' fears #cw bugs #cw insects #mild body horror #generalized grossness #this one isnt so much thrilling or mysterious or whatever #it's more just like.#would that be fucked up or what?#idk #happy October ev'body (:

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xaconite · 4 years ago

Text

— inbox / @astrumstilla

The truth? She may have made too many valentine treats to spare. She'd gifted plenty to the girls. The boys too. Their neighbors. Anika was already checked off her list. Anya. Her co-workers. Some classmates. So, as tempting as it was to keep the leftovers to herself, she knew she still had one more person to see. "Hey knock-off Avril. You alone?" she asks on the brinks of a laugh. "Here." She holds out the box of treats in one hand and a flower in the other. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Alone? Of course, he is alone. This holiday is for loved ones and partners, and Avil’s made quite sure that there’s no space beside him for anyone like that. He doesn’t need, nor want, loved ones, so on Valentine’s Day, he makes sure to lay low and evade any festivities if he can help it. The bench outside of Marlow’s shop is one such place he finds refuge, but it’s perhaps not as effective as he thought since Alys could find him (not that it is very hard to).

Avil isn’t expecting Alys to come forth with kindness. Such sweet emotions have very little room in their usual modus operandi, so when he hears her voice, his immediate instinct is to get defensive. Just as he’s prepared to spit sharp words at her, they vanish at the sight of.... a box? And a flower? For him?

Nothing short of bewilderment crosses his face, like he’s found himself with the rug snatched right from under him. This isn’t... them, this isn’t what they do, so to be met with such a generous act from the very girl he’s fought with more than once, he’s not sure how to respond. The gifts are handled with care as he takes them, but he’s quite sure the box has to be a prank. Something is going to jump out at him surely. That would be more fitting, wouldn’t it?

Wordlessly, Avil tucks the flower behind his ear and slowly removes the top, bracing himself all the while. However, there is... nothing. Just little sweets. No fake spiders. No jumping toys. Just... chocolate. From the girl that should hate him the most.

He takes one of the treats, inspects it for just a moment, then takes a bite. Sugary cocoa blooms on his tongue, and he doesn’t take notice of the stinging in his eyes. After a moment, he quietly scoots over on the bench, patting the empty space next to him. Alys can hardly be called a friend, but... perhaps she can be beside him, just for today.

“Thank you. I don’t have anything for you, but... Thank you.” He repeats, his voice a bit watery, quiet, and he can’t bring himself to look at her just yet. “Can you share them with me?”

#astrumstilla #THIS WASN'T.... SUPPOSED TO END UP LIKE THIS #BUT #I'm lil... soggy :')#this is the most cordial they've ever been....#TY LULU !!!#puckish / asks.

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rosie-marlow · 5 years ago

Note

Province Asks: Sonage (Hometown woo hoo), Lakedon and Hansport

Sonage: What’s your dream vacation spot?

It’s not really a vacation spot but my dream is to do the Laugavegur Trail in Iceland.

Lakedon: What’s your family’s ancestry?

My dad (Arthur Marlow) is British actually, his entire family lives in the Buckinghamshire area. His work had brought him to Illéa, because there was this special lab in Kent (the only location in the world apparently). He needed to gather some data for his research. He was on the verge of going back to the UK (he didn’t like Illéa that much understatement) but then he met my mom (Joan Marlow, née Roberts), a Four from Chicago. They always tell me that their first meeting was more like hate-at-first-sight than love. Something must have felt right for them though, because he decided to stay a little longer, eventually making the decision to become an official Illéan citizen. The authorities assigned him to the caste of Threes because of his job as a scientist. Shortly after that, my mom and dad got married, making her a Three as well. And then poof, there were my 2 brothers and me.

Hansport: Where did you get your name?

Well, when my mother found out she was having a girl she was dead set on the name Rosemary. But my dad refused, he didn’t want his only daughter to be named after a herb. So he suggested some other names, but my mom didn’t like any. In the end they met each other in the middle and settled for Rosie.

#rosie answers #((THANK YOU!))

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smileyoongle · 6 years ago

Text

MASTERPIECE (A Yandere Park Jimin AU)

Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.

Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.

Heavy pants filled the room as two bodies lay side by side, tangled with each other and smiling at the intimacy they had shared just minutes ago. The lights in the lavish bedroom were dim as rain pattered against the windows, the water drops glistening in the light that came from inside the room.

"How's your merger coming up?"

Taehyung turned his head to face you, admiring the soft features of your face that captured his heart every time he saw them. He shuffled in the sheets, propping himself up on his elbow, his palm pressed against his cheek. With his other hand, he brushed your hair away from your face, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"Well... it's exhausting. Steve is a dick. And I'm not sure how long I'll be able to tolerate him."

You hummed, placing a hand on Taehyung's cheek and softly caressing it as he leaned down to kiss you. Your lips always tasted sweet, a hint of your favourite wine leaving a mellow taste on Taehyung's tongue. Taehyung hated wines but he wasn't sure anymore after having kissed you a thousand times.

With a final peck, he got off the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling them up his legs. You rolled over in bed, resting your chin on the back of your hands as your eyes raked over his body. Every inch of his skin was inviting and his face didn't help your case either. He was just so ethereal. So godlike.

"And here I was, thinking you'd stay for round two." You teased, twirling your hair between your fingers and biting your lips. You knew it was his weakness, he'd come right back to you whenever you did that.

Taehyung buttoned his jeans and turned to you, only to have his breath hitch. He could already feel his jeans tighten, the fact that he was already turned on growing evident with every passing second.

His eyes roamed over your body. He noticed that you had purposely shifted the sheets off your body so that he could see your exposed skin. The curve of your breasts, the smooth skin of your thighs with bruises littered on it and the marks on your neck were all calling him to devour you again.

With a shaky breath, Taehyung closed his eyes, trying to divert his mind away from your tactics.

"I have work tomorrow morning, you know that. And the fact that you live outside the city doesn't help at all." He voiced, putting on his shirt. You rolled your eyes and stood up, leaving the black cloth that was initially hiding your body from him. You had never been shy, not with your body. And especially with Taehyung, there was absolutely no need for you to hide anything. He was a friend. A friend who you called when you wanted to...well…friends with benefits would be the correct way to define your relationship.

You slipped your hands around his waist, kissing the back of his neck as he shuddered beneath your fingers. "Y/N…" he warned, holding your hand in his and pulling you in front of him. The sight of your body made his mouth water. He had to remind himself that he had a very important meeting to attend and staying was not an option. He was the CEO of a big company, afterall.

Placing his hands on either side of your cheeks, he kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep. Your paintings can wait for you and don't drink too much. Or I'll have to ban the winery from sending you any more bottles, got it?"

You lazily nodded your head with a mocking smile, knowing very well that Taehyung was just wasting his breath.

He shook his head in response, also aware that you weren't gonna listen to him anyway. He kissed your smiling lips before heading out, leaving you alone in your big old mansion-like house.

You watched him run to his car as he tried to cover his head with his hands, his white shirt already showing traces of his skin. The rain was heavy and it didn't look like it was gonna stop anytime soon.

Running your hands through your hair, you trudged towards the bathroom for a hot shower.

You had known Taehyung for 10 years now. You had met him during high school and he had stood by you through thick and thin. The sexual tension between the two of you became harder to hide when you two graduated and one thing led to another. Before you knew it, you were already having a very unhealthy relationship with a guy who was supposed to be your best friend. It didn't have to be unhealthy but it was.

Blame it on Taehyung's inability to hide his affectionate feelings towards you. But it was unhealthy. At least for you.

In an hour, you were sitting in your art room, which you had lovingly named 'Creative Arena' due to it's huge space. All kinds of paintings and sculptures covered it's wooden floors. But that was also the case with your entire house. Taehyung always joked about your house being a museum and how you should start holding exhibitions there.

Too bad. This was your personal haven.

Every painting spoke to you. Every sculpture held emotions that you desperately wanted to read. You loved being an art collector. You loved yourself.

Sipping your Pinot Noir, you placed the wine glass on the small coffee table before picking up your paint brush. You hummed in delight, knowing exactly what your next painting was gonna be. You drowned in the colours and forgot about the entire world until the sun rose and your eyes closed.

________________________________

You stared out at the darkness, leaning your head against the car window and relishing in the soft purr of the engine along with the rain. It ended up being a long exhibition, although according to you, there wasn't anything worth looking at. If it was up to you, you would have made sure that Mrs Marlowe never ever painted again. It annoyed you to listen to her rambling about how her art can help the world.

That woman didn't even know what primer she used.

A loud ringing echoed through the car as you glanced at your phone, Taehyung's boxy smile lighting up your screen. You swipe your finger across the screen to accept the call, your eyes closing as you placed the phone next to your ear.

"Hey." His deep voice filled your ears, your heart beating rhythmically as you found yourself relaxing. That was Taehyung for you. He was your salvation. He kept you from drowning away from reality.

"Hi. How was work?" You asked casually, glancing outside at the wet roads.

"Tiring as always. I attended three meetings nonstop. How about you? Marlowe, wasn't it? Was she good?"

You smiled smugly at his 'I-know-everything' tone. He always kept tabs on you.

"Stalker much?" You mocked, tilting your head, not like he could see you anyway. Taehyung chuckled on the other end. You could imagine his face at the moment. Sometimes, it surprises you that you hadn't fallen for him. Taehyung always took care of you like he was your boyfriend. But somewhere something stopped you from loving him like that. Unfortunately, you couldn't figure it out.

"Maybe. Will I be seeing you today?"

You looked down at the watch on your wrist.

7:56 PM

You had plenty of spare time. Blame it on the lack of inspiration for your art session but you wanted to enjoy life for a bit. It was Saturday the next day. Maybe you could just give yourself a break.

"Don't know but maybe. I'll-"

Suddenly, you jolted forward as your hands frantically held onto the backrest of the passenger seat in front of you, the phone slipping from your hands and falling down with a faint thud. Your eyes immediately shot up to see your driver, who was looking at you apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Miss Y/L/N. But something's wrong with the engine. I'll need some time to fix it." He stated, bowing his head as you huffed. With a shake of your head, you bent down to grab your phone and brought it back to your ear.

"Y/N?! Are you alright? Why aren't you sayi-"

"I'm okay, Tae. The car broke down. I don't know how long it'll take to get it started again." You said, hearing him sigh in relief. Your eyes fell on the small shop across the road, dim yellow lights illuminating the asphalt. It looked like a very old shop and you could make out the outlines of paintings inside it.

"Do you want me to come and get you?"

Curiosity got the best of you and you felt yourself being pulled to the shop. You just wanted to see. It was art, afterall.

"No. I'll wait it out. I'll tell you if I'm coming over. Don't bother." You replied, looking at your driver and nodding your head towards the shop. He understood and quickly got out of the car with an umbrella in his hand.

"Okay, then. Take care."

You hung up as the door to your side opened and you stepped out, scrunching your face when a few water droplets hit your face. You loved the rains, no doubt about that. But you didn't like them when you had to work outside. Petrichor was beyond pleasant but the humidity made you uncomfortable.

"I'll be in that shop. Let me know if you need help or something." You said to your driver, walking beside him as he held the umbrella above you. As soon as you stepped into the warmth of the cozy shop, you turned around and gestured your driver to take the umbrella with him. He worked for you and you respected that. He needed to be healthy and safe. With a small smile, he scurried away, leaving you to do whatever you want.

You clutched your phone tightly, looking around the small shop as your eyes sparkled at the many vibrant artworks that lay around. With a frown, you proceeded to explore around, running your fingers across all the canvases and trying to see which one you felt connected to. The emptiness of the store did make you feel creeped out but you were too distracted to act upon your uncomfortableness. The sound of rain buzzed in your ear as your eyes narrowed in concentration. You turned and stepped in another isle, glancing at the dim light which had started flickering.

This shop needs renovation…

You thought and pursed your lips. Even though you knew that you were thinking too far, you couldn't help yourself. It was pretty hard for a small store which was hidden in the outskirts of the city to make a lot of money. Renovation was miles away.

As you continued to walk down the aisle, your steps faltered when your eyes fell on the painting resting against the wall at the far end. You couldn't tell what the painting was since it had a cloth draped over it but you were curious. Like always.

You tilted your head and slowly walked towards it, stretching your hand to hold the thin and dirty cloth.

Don't do it!

You frowned, wondering why something felt wrong. Your mind was constantly telling you to get out of the store. But why? You shook your head and pulled the cloth away in one swift pull of your hand.

Your mouth fell open as soon as your eyes met his.

The man in the painting.

He looked so...real.

His eyes held pride and his plump lips pulled into a small smile. The black base contrasted well with his attire and you just couldn't take your eyes off of it. Your eyes ran across the frame and you quickly moved closer on seeing some carvings on the metal.

Park Jimin

1995- 2017

You assumed this was the man in the painting. You failed to hide your shock on seeing the year of his death. He was too young.

But why was this painting here?

Why not with his family?

Too lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence of another man who was now standing behind you. His eyes raked over your body as you continued to focus on the painting that had taken your breath away. His lips stretched into a knowing smirk as he leaned against a shelf, his arms crossed against his chest.

"I see you quite like the painting."

You flinched and turned around, your hand immediately going up to your chest. You stared at the man with wide eyes, cursing at him mentally.

"You scared me." You mumbled, closing your eyes and catching your breath. He let out a breathy laugh and held his hands up as if to defend himself.

"Didn't mean to. But can't really blame me. Not many people come here."

You moved your eyes up to his face, taking in his appearance. His black hair fell across his forehead and his heart shaped lips greeted you with a smile. You had met too many people to know that something was off about this guy. Actually, something was wrong with this whole place.

"Can't blame anyone else though. You chose to open here." You replied bluntly, not caring how arrogant you sounded. You had stopped giving a shit about other people's feelings a long time ago.

4 years ago, to be precise.

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes with a mocking smile on his face.

"Touchè. So, about that painting…"

You glanced at the painting before looking back at him, knowing that he was only trying to sell it. And weirdly enough, you were absolutely ready to take it home. Even though it felt wrong.

"What about it?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"I'll give it to you for whatever you're willing to pay."

You immediately frowned. It was a perfectly good painting and you had already estimated it's price. Why was he ready to give it for anything less?

"Why would you do that?" You questioned, raising your eyebrows in disbelief. The lights flickered again for a few seconds before going back to normal. Also, the rain had stopped, you could tell by the sudden quietness that engulfed you.

"We don't get many folks here. Anything to make a living, I guess."

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor, embarrassed by his situation. You sighed in sympathy and turned around to look at Park Jimin. His eyes were boring into yours and you felt shivers running down your spine. No painting had ever affected you this much. Something was definitely different about this one and you needed to take it home.

"I'll take it for 1000 bucks."

Taglist: @csol16 @thanksforthemameries @min-t-posts @xanny91 @silverstitchedsoul @truestrengths @jackgot7lo @jazzytfw @cassiescarlet12 @kpopgirlbtssvt @slut-for-fandoms @kawaiimusiccollection @butwhatsoft @baby-glitch @wickedbutlovely

You know the drill for the taglist...lemme know if you wanna be added! I know this chapter was a little boring but I need to build a base before diving right into the yandere theme. Bare with me? Please? I love you!

-XX

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aurorxbanks · 5 years ago

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hello my friends !!! it is i, chelly, once again to throw my babie at you all :~) i hope y’all will love miss aurora just as much as i do, bc she holds a special place in my heart and i’m really excited to have her here! i think she’s gonna adore all of y’alls muses so :~) please don’t be shy, hit me up, i’ll be around in an inbox near you soon too to plot and chat! okay, before i ramble too too much, here is her way too long bio. love youuu

* : ･ﾟ･✧･ meet aurora marlowe banks ･✧･ﾟ･ : *

tw: ptsd, trauma, construction accident, panic attacks, hospitals

TL:DR: oof, i struggle with coming up with a too long, don’t read for miss aurora BUT at her core, she’s just this sweet child who grew up in a really close family in maine. the banks got thrown for quite the loop after her father suffered from a massive accident, leading to many medical complications and hardship for her family. she suffers from pstd and panic attacks as a result, but she’s been blessed with a strong support system too and she manages well enough, all things considered. at the hotel, she’s a vet tech and is in her final year of becoming a veterinarian at the university of illinois - chicago. so naturally, a huge animal lover but food is also her love language and those of her two favorite ways to bond with new people. she’s timid and shy, a little naive and gullible, but a truly amazing friend and someone who loves and cares with her entire being. a good little egg and i hope y’all will love her as much as i do.

wanted connects: bc i don’t want them to get lost in the novel abys ... i’d love for her to have some vet pals, or rlly just pals who work in the pet daycare with her! if you’re a fellow cook, she’s going to ask you what your favorite recipes are with a pen and pad in hand so ... get ready for that one! she’d love a running buddy, or someone who’d spur of the moment sign up with her for marathons and such so like, bring them on, she’s an early riser so will motivate you to go train with her at 6 am - you have been warned! she’s only ever been with a few people in her life sexually and romantically, but she is very very bisexual so having an ex partner or a once upon a time crush/unrequited love could be hella !!! oof i cannot see aurora hating anyone, but something of a frenemies situation could be angsty and fun. they first met bc aurora almost ran them over while she was rollerblading and changing her song so the phrase ‘don’t text and skate’ came to exist askdf i’ve also got it in my head that her sister natalie’s fc is alycia debnam carey and her sister winifred’s fc is katherine/josephine langford so ... okay i’m just going on and on here huh okay i’ll shut up

now, onto the WAY too long biography i wrote for her ... but here we go :~)

tw: ptsd, trauma, construction accident, panic attacks, hospitals

*:･ﾟ･✧･ who am i?: the coastal town of kennebunkport maine, tucked into the southern half of the state, was what aurora called home for most of her life. it’s a tiny little town with a population just under four thousand people, but it was during the summers that the area would come to life. her father, artie, was an architect per his degree but was a contractor by trade so he was constantly finding work to further develop what was becoming more and more of a tourist attraction each summer. so he had gotten to know the people in the town well, was often working construction jobs as he had a relatively small crew, and that meant aurora and her mother emilia were always out and about. whether they were bringing artie a bagged lunch on his break, or going down by the shore to collect sea shells even if it was the winter season, they’d become quickly and easily acquainted with everyone. and aurora wasn’t their first daughter, either, she has two older sisters: natalie and winifred aka natty and winnie. both of whom are named after their grandmothers, but winifred will tell you she got the short stick but thank god for hocus pocus because winnie is far cuter. anyways. so for the three little ducklings to be following their mama emilia, the town knew the banks family well and they were very well liked. they spent a lot of time on the beach as soon as the weather was warm enough, but they also liked driving the rv out onto the sand when it was too cold, too. they’d wear gloves and bundle up and the big fluffy german shepherd named scout would frolic along with the girls chasing after him, too. aurora spent just as much time chasing after her two older sisters, too, just wanting to keep up with them whether it be in school, or at home, or wherever. artie and emilia were high school sweethearts, moving to kennebunkport after they got married, and they were just exceptionally close and in love, maintaining their family wasn’t difficult. aurora was always a little quieter than her sisters, shier and slower to jump into conversation about whatever book she was reading or joining in on the chalk drawing all over the sidewalks with the neighbors, but she was every bit as present as her sisters were, too. it was truly a community, and one that aurora didn’t ever realize that she was going to be needing as desperately as she did after the accident.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ a new reality: when she was ten, her father was in a massive accident on one of his worksites as he was building a new beach house on a newly developed property. which was more of a mansion, truly, and the landscaping was still being mulled over. it left for some interesting scaffolding, even fault in some spots, and it was one wrong step that left her father falling a few floors down onto a bed of hard gravel below. as a result, he was in the hospital for the better part of a year as he suffered from a severe head injury as well as a broken back that took too long to heal as he was especially susceptible to complications given his type one diabetes rendering him immunocompromised. needless to say, aurora and her family spent a lot of time in the hospital during that beyond difficult year. emilia, the champion mama that she is, kept it together as best she could but the banks were truly a broken family. what they were going through, the way in which three young girls were being tested, and the medical bills that stacked up quickly … it was honestly a miracle that they had any sort of sanity at all. as a sort of escape, aurora spent a lot of time in the children’s unit of the hospital, because she tried making friends with some of the other kids her age ( since being around her sisters all of the time was also difficult for her ). she was there often enough, and they’d play tag when the nurses weren’t looking, and would eat in the caf together on the good days, and there were a lot of wholesome memories that aurora got to make when she wasn’t by her dad’s side. there was, however, the heartbreaking nights where a nurse would stop by and take aurora aside, tell her that one of her friends at the hospital had passed, and it was never news that she stomached well. of course, how could any kid? but aurora feels everything, all of her emotions, with her entire being. a lot of it just became too much all at once, and that’s when her panic attacks began. when it all became too heavy, in the stark white halls of the hospital wings, aurora would find herself curled up in herself barely able to breathe let alone think … the nurses, the doctors, they were incredible of course, but truly it was being surrounded by her family once more that allowed for little aurora to center herself again.

it was a little over a month before artie came out of his coma, and it was an even longer and slower recovery than was expected. seeing her father in the hospital bed, unresponsive, unsure if she would ever get to talk to him or sit in his lap as he read her a story, wondering if he was going to get to see her play soccer in the fall on the a team … for a young kid, it was a lot. it was a lot of trauma for a long time. but artie did wake up, which was a miracle in his own right truthfully, but so was his recovery. it was a long ten months of intensive rehabilitation, repeated fMRIs, and pitfalls but god was it a well-needed moral boost for the banks family. and even though there was still so much work to be done toward artie’s full recovery, if there was to be one, at least he was alive. at least aurora still had her daddy, and that made all the difference. as head injuries can be difficult, and unpredictable, it was uncertain what brain functioning and part of his brain would be affected fully. and as aurora had come to find, her father’s personality, the frontal lobe? he was still that very same person she had known her entire life, and emilia wholeheartedly agreed. the main differences came from his body, as he couldn’t move in the same ways anymore, he had to essentially re-learn how to sit up, stand, walk, but he did. in conversation, the recall on certain words, phrases, experiences .. it comes and goes, some things are there and others need a hefty amount of prompting, but the banks will live with that over the alternative every day of the week. it’s been nearly ten years since, and artie has come such a long way. no longer working on-sight anymore, he still works alongside his partner in their architecture consulting business. so to put it lightly, the recovery was better than even the doctors had come to expect. but the trauma, well that has always lingered with aurora. all that she had seen, had heard, the beeping of the monitors that her father was hooked up to, the sterile scent of the sheets that would replace the bed her friends in the pediatric ward occupied … it still haunts her. every night before bed, and every morning when she’d wake, she’d have to make sure her parents were still there, alive, breathing, able to respond to her when she’d reach for their hand. if mama was napping and aurora couldn’t hear that faint snore, she’d have to check on her. if dad fell asleep at his desk from exhaustion, she’d poke him awake with a few tears in her eyes. and even if it’s been ten years, it’s still something she’s likely to do with whoever she’s living with. luckily, when the time came, her college roommate understood.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ years to come: just to make it through the recovery year, and the rehabilitation years that followed, aurora leaned heavily on her sisters. they were three little peas in a pod and aurora’s never been closer with anyone else in her life and she never will be. they were, and for the most part still are, iseparable. they’ve got a groupchat that’s active at any hour of the day, has been for the past decade, hell even before unlimited texting they were on aim - and aurora wouldn’t have it any other way honestly. the only reason she did decently in school is because of her sisters’ influence, as they’re a few years her senior. they always kept aurora in the right spirits, along the right path, and a lot of that probably came from emilia’s request but aurora didn’t mind. she wasn’t ever looked at as the annoying little sister, but as an equal, and she truly appreciated that and them more than she could ever express. their bond is unbreakable, and it’s been tested time and time again, but it’s where aurora’s strong sense of loyalty comes from. it’s also a huge contributor to her endless ability to care for others. which, that particular trait has been responsible in getting her heart broken on more than one occasion, as aurora was the type to fall hard and fast especially when it came to any beautiful person glancing her way in the halls. but again, she had her sisters to protect her, to nurture any broken hearts or help mend any rocky friendships that teenage girls can have. if she ever accidentally hurt someone else, or if she was the one who got crushed, that ability to feel every little thing with her entire being would do a number on her, but natty and winnie were always right by her side. artie and emilia give the world’s best hugs, and always know when something’s up with their daughter. it allowed for aurora to grow, to express herself fully, to feel accepted despite her niuances. she’s found it difficult at times to connect with people her own age considering her mature experiences, but she’s done her best and the people who truly care for her have remained, and others have faded into the background, and that’s okay. aurora knows that not everyone is meant to be in your life forever, but those who are, are held closely to her heart.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ onward: it was a difficult enough decision for aurora to venture out beyond her small town in maine for the big city .. truth be told, she likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for winnie having made the move first. natty, the eldest, attended colby college in order to stay close to the family and for awhile there, aurora likely dreamt of doing the very same. but winnie was offered decent aid northwestern university, and she really wanted the opportunity to branch out and get out of the small corner of the work that the banks had been occupying for so many years. and while aurora and natty were a little heartbroken, that only lasted for a few weeks, before they got on the same page as their very supportive parents and knew that it was going to be one of he best things for winnie. and for the last two years of her high school experience, without her sisters being in the same building or the same house, aurora started to grow more on her own. she liked being able to make the roadtrip with natty to visit winnie on the weekends, to see what life was like outside of their hometown. illinois was exciting, and chicago was rich in diversity, and it greatly attracted all three of them. aurora especially, and she was constantly in her guidance office discussing the different colleges in the area and degrees she could be going after. she was a particularly good student, got a lot of tutelage from her support system, and the sciences were her favorite. she even made her parents buy her a special set of goggles for her chem lab and yes, she got made fun of for it, but aurora didn’t care. the concept of medicine was attractive to her, considering all she had been through and where her interests led her, but she couldn’t bring herself to envisioning MD at the end of her title … working alongside a human population, it just felt a little too overwhelming for her, perhaps even triggering, but she still felt that pull. and her guidance counselor knew that, also knew how often aurora volunteered at the local animal shelters and fostered as many as she could ( or rather, as many as her parents would allow ) so the topic of veterinary school came up, as did the university of chicago and their program offerings … and honestly, it was like overnight, aurora had made her decision.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ decision day: just shy of her eighteenth birthday and aurora was already enrolled and committed to attend the college of veterinary medicine and the school of public health at the university of illinois-chicago. it’s a five year program that she’s just about ready to finish, with only her clinical hours to go, before she can officially call herself a vet. and it was just last summer that she finished her vet technician credentials to be able to practice as a vet tech legally and outside of the scope of the college’s intern hour requirements, which is how she got herself a free place to live at the malnati. because while aurora loves her school, she’s always had a tough enough time fitting in with classmates who are her age, with kids who just wanted to goof off and fuck around. because aurora’s never been that girl. she’s quiet, timid even, and it takes her awhile to warm up to people - especially new people. she got to live in her little slice of the world in maine where her family were her biggest supporters and the rest of the two just knew her. aurora rarely had to introduce herself to anyone, ever. so it was a whirlwind of a new experience, and she was lucky to have winnie in reasonable driving distance, but it still made it difficult for aurora. the party scene was never hers, in fact being in large groups of people can occasionally overwhelm her, so she tested it out a few times before deciding that it wasn’t gonna be for her. she didn't like how her panic attacks seemed to get worse if she was around far too many intoxicated people, so she decided against them for herself personally. aurora much prefers the, let’s go get sushi and then roam around the art gallery, type of weekends. so needless to say, she stuck to the few good friends in her program, some outside of it too, and just lived. she would run 5ks to support local causes, attend street markets and festivals on the weekends, run around hopping from one train to the next to get to work and then back onto campus so she could afford everything. but in her last year, it’ll be more than nice to have the malnati as it’s one less bill and one stable job to maintain on her resume while she completes her degree.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ love languages: which - that honorable sushi mention up there? well, food is one of aurora’s love languages. once her dad was able to come home, the girls became avid chefs. emilia was always a good cook, but more than that she taught the girls all kinds of recipes and techniques and it just created this type of burning, lasting memory in aurora’s mind and honestly being in the kitchen is just her second happy place. the first? well anywhere she can be surrounded by animals - that’s her first happy place. because she’s the biggest animal lover, but she’s also a huge foodie. she doesn’t cook as much as she used to being in chicago, as she did back home in maine, but with the suites having pretty incredible appliances considering the size, she’s excited to get back into it. handwritten recipe cards fill a few binders that she’s put together, and nothing makes aurora feel more at home than her dad’s handwriting, cause he’d scrawl down whatever emilia would tell him to as she was cooking, and it’s just a little shaky from the brain injury but it’s perfect. it’s him. it’s her dad’s. and she really loves the little hearts that’re on every card that her mom would add at the end, so she’s excited to start using them again. which means that she will feed you, she will share tupperware and accept new recipe cards with a lot of excitement. but also now, getting to live in a place where she is able to take care of all these beautiful pets in such a glamorous daycare? well, aurora’s somewhere between heaven and heaven - cause she’s got this big heart that’s filled with floof balls, and gorgeous birds, and reptiles with textured skin - and don’t get her started on the cutest ferret that one of the guests has lodged at the daycare for weeks and she cannot get enough of. so she’s fully ready to make just about any excuse to show up and hang out with you and your pets, because she vehemently loves quality time and as this also being one of her love languages, she can never get enough.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ four wheels, two legs, a paintbrush: but amongst other things that aurora enjoys? she’s a big rollerblader, like actually owns inline skates and will use them to get around chicago if she pleases and 100% takes those very aesthetic tiktoks wearing her bellbottom jeans and hair all blown out … it’s one of the very few instances of aurora being vain, but she just enjoys it too much. very much into running, it’s the only other form of exercise she willingly participates in ( unless it’s swimming because of course she loves to do that ) and she swears one of these days her knees are gonna be the end of her but she keeps up with it anyways. she signs up for 5k’s without question and half marathons take a few extra moments of consideration but she’ll do those too - she’s determined to do her first marathon soon and she’s really looking forward to it. she’s also not very good at it, but she loves to paint. she’s gotten a lot of those ‘paint by number’ watercolors that she saw ads for on instagram for way too long before finally placing an order but she really loves those. she’s got a vintage polaroid camera from her grandmother’s closet that she is very protective over but she’s highkey in love with it. that one stays in its case in the trunk at the end of her bed, but she’s gotten a less sentimental polaroid to use as more of a decor piece on her dresser. and literally no one is surprised at this point, but she’s got a record player and a bunch of vinyls from her dad’s collection and her sisters make fun of her for being 'that bitch’ but she doesn’t care - it’s just all a part of what makes aurora authentically herself.

*:･ﾟ･✧･ empath: of which, she’s exceptionally kind. to a fault, mostly. she’s gullible and naive, which caused her to be manipulated growing up but she had support to get her out of those situations when she needed it. because aurora is trusting, and trustworthy, but she mostly wants to see the good in other people. but she’s also learned from the moments in her life that burned her, and she tends to keep to herself a bit, and is very slow on the open up, but she liked to have friends. very much a social person, actually, she’s just gotta get used to the new and exciting and feel people out before she’s her most honest self. which is a bit of a goofy, smiley, supportive gal who very clearly grew up in a tight knit family because she’s quick to pull people into her circle who want to be there, and who care enough about her to be there in the first place. her favorite people are good people, and all she ever tries to do is her best. once she’s open to someone, she’s with them 100% of the way and holds the people in her life very close to her heart. she feels with her entire heart and soul, whole body, and sometimes that can be emotionally exhausting and even physically draining so she may need to step back from time to time, but she’s still always gonna be there. aurora will talk through emotions and isn’t afraid of having the deep talks either, which is probably one of the things that makes her such a good friend. being in chicago, she’s a wide eyed gal with a big heart, whose experiences have shaped her, and she is unapologetically herself.

#malnatiooc #+ ( introduction * . )#i'm BACK

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drinkyourfuckingmilk · 6 years ago

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How would you convince Solas to embrace the new world and move forward? What would be your argument for him?

Ooooh I’ve got so many headcanons of my Lavellan slapping him with some fucking truth, and I can only write this in a way my Lavellan Marlowe would be thinking it;

1. Solas is not necessarily responsible for what happened to the elves - the evanuris are. The evanuris were obviously unleashing something world-destroying upon Thedas, and Solas says that every alternative plan to stop them was worse, so he was backed into a corner and basically had to create the veil - the result is that elves were worse off than before but the important point here, which Varric reiterates in their banter, is that it cost the elves their dominance over Thedas, but it didn’t cost them their entire race or the entire world. Solas needs to get this through his boiled egged dome - he saved the world, his actions had costs, yes, but what is the better outcome: great cost to the social situation of your people vs the entire world and all life within in it being destroyed? Solas saved the world and the actions he took to do so was because the evanuri’s backed him into a fucking corner.

2. Solas’ actions are essentially the reason all of modern Thedas exists - humans, qunari, dwarves - and elves are still alive when it could have meant extinction - given how he frames what the evanuris were doing to the world -which I believe is the blight brought on by Andruil or something else as horrifying.

3. Solas was the leader of rebellion against enslavement - he has good, admirable principles; he believes in the inherent right of all beings to exist freely and he abhors slavery and denial for any being to think for themselves. Depending on your inquisitors actions in the game he shows he values freedom, free-thinking, compassion, consideration, kindness, open-mindedness. He values these things which is how he became such a powerful leader of an anti-slave rebellion in Arlathan - the people who followed him and joined his cause believed in these ideals, and thus they would abhor him rewriting the world at the cost of the lives of people who love, live, breath, think freely in modern Thedas. He was backed into a corner when he had to create the Veil and endanger many elves, but how do you weigh lives against the benefits of beautiful omniscient magic that he’s so nostalgic for? That’s what this bitch was fighting against! Solas took a stand against these magically gifted, powerful evanuri’s because they supposedly used it to dominate others they perceived as different/inferior. The elves who joined Solas’ cause - whom he believes he’s fighting for by purging modern Thedas to restore - would be betrayed by his current actions. His actions would betray all the values the elven people who joined him fought for.

4. Solas as Fen’harel took great pains in denouncing his divinity - Solas does not like people buying into their own hype. He shows this by rejecting any assertions that he’s a divine God in the time of ancient Arlathan, and he shows it by disapproving of an Inquisitor who buys into the Herald of Andraste hype. At his core, Solas disapproves of anyone having so much power that they believe they’re above others, or entitled to make decisions on the common people’s behalf. He says this, “Responsibility does not equate to authority, and decision is not inherently better than indecision”. So Lavellan could parrot his own words back at him to remind him that he ISN’T a god and is NOT responsible for the actions he took as a result of being backed into a corner to save the elves, nor is he entitled to change the world as he see’s fit simply because he has the power to do so.

5. A lot of his banter with Varric is very important. As is his relationship with Cole. Because both Varric and Cole stress the importance of the world changing, and that change is not inherently bad or means the world is worse off than it was. You can move on, adapt, live on and thrive - and that things may seem worse in so far as its different - but that different does not equate to inferiority (something I headcanon my Lavellan Marlowe saying to Solas is “differences between all of us should never be viewed as inherent inferiorities, and those who view it as such are doomed to trample this world in their ignorance” OH GEEZ that’s corny but there it is)

6. Solas speaks with such disdain for the evanuri’s with their monopoly of power over the common people, and he sings the same tune for Tevinter. So, is it safe to say that Lavellan could remind him that perhaps it was for the best that ancient Arlathan failed, since historically those who hold enough of a monopoly of power to bring so much devastation to the world need to be stopped, and that perhaps despite the beauty of magic, there is some wisdom in thinking it needs to be curtailed if the result is that those who wield it best could enslave, dominate or destroy those without the same talents? THUS, modern Thedas has its problems, yes, and the persecution of mages and fear of the Fade and spirits is short-sighted, but ultimately modern Thedas doesn’t have the same fear as ancient Arlathan in that there wasn’t a being who could threaten all life with their magical powers except the blight (which is obvs implied to be a result of the evanuris, or Corypheus who only ended up in his position of power thanks to ancient elven power). Basically, Solas needs to realise that the world might be less pretty but ultimately better off for the freedom of all people, regardless of race of class, to exist without that much power because those are the values he fought for in ancient Arlathan.

7. An important, final, finito point is that Solas is a sad little bitch who was always told by friends or foe that he’s not worth listening to, his worldview and open-mindedness towards other beings like spirits is madness not wisdom, and that he’s basically a PC weirdo who is shunned because he’s a democrat living in an elven republican nightmare - and Lavellan comes along and loves him for who he is at his core which he is evidently unused to. And he needs to let go of his self-imposed responsibility for the creation of the veil (which in my opinion is the evanuris fault for backing him into that corner) and take some goddamned time to live by his own values and embrace a humble life of exploring the world he’s so curious about and settling down with the love of his life.

8. Solas can be a pompous asshole who thinks ancient elves are all that, but his conversations with the other companions show he’s genuinely curious and invested in their worldviews (”Iron Bull, how do your people wear shirts?”) and it should be easy as fuck to convince him modern Thedas is of value because it holds many different and fascinating views on the world and how to live, and Solas is - when not overwhelmed by guilt and a misplaced sense of responsibility - a very curious, open-minded person. He’d probs love to explore modern Thedas and learn more about how many different ways of life there are.

9. LAST POINT. Solas can be a cunt. He’s dismissive of different ways of life (the Qun for example, though I’m also personally opposed to their brand of brainwashing) but also shows a curiosity and enjoyment of cultural differences despite of this. I think his value of ancient Arlathan and elvhen culture is only magnified by the fact that it was lost, and seemingly by his hand. But his actions show otherwise in that he repeatedly states ancient Arlathan had its many flaws, he hated the slavery, he rebelled against its leaders, he enjoys talking about modern Thedas etc etc. He’s very flawed and contradictory, but its very easy to see how Solas falls into traps of thinking ancient Arlathan and the elves were superior only because he feels tremendous guilt for having an inadvertent part in destroying what he was familiar with. His actions in Inquisition though, show otherwise, particularly if he becomes friends/lovers with the Inquisitor. He can let go of his guilt and see modern Thedas and its diverse people for the value they have through the eyes of someone he respects.

#there are more points I've made but im drunk so these are the best I can do #Anonymous

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thepageofa1000worlds · 6 years ago

Text

Pairing: James Conrad x reader Part 1 · Part 2 · Part 3 · Part 4 · Part 5 · Part 6 ·

Synopsis: After having left thing uncompleted and unresolved with James Conrad 3 years ago, you two find yourself again in the kong island. What happened three years ago with you two? How is it that you got to make part of an expeditionary mission?

Song: Ólafur Arnalds- So Far

Warnings: it’s a six part mini-series.

A/N: So like the entire thing has been written so long ago but i kinda got discourage because there was a problem with tumblr ( if you put links on the pots then it would not show on the tags) so yeah, i decided to better finish it.

Words: 2464

The gas made it difficult to see up ahead, your heart was beating fast and your senses were analyzing every little thing. Now and then you would hear Randa’s camera taking photos close by. Trying to calm down you stopped altogether, looking around you saw James a couple of feet ahead, while Mason was standing down a bone that made a form of an arch.

An explosion made you raise your gun defensively, once you became aware that it had been just a gas explosion you lower it.

The first time you heard them you didn’t know if it had been only on your head or if it was real. Seeing people around you react to the sound, made you aware that it wasn’t in your head.

“RUN” shouted Hank, and he didn’t have to repeat as you run towards Conrad and Mason, hiding after a rock or a bone, it was hard to tell.

The first look at the creature through the fog made your eyes go wide, Conrad's hand taking a drip on your hip to pull you closer to him.

The sound the creature made was that of cracking glass combined with nails on a chalkboard, but way louder and way awful than any sound you had ever heard. You close your eyes for a moment to try and calm yourself.

“ That thing is awful” You whispered.

“ I told you this damn place was a no, no,” said hank who was hiding in the nearby rock.

Conrad release your hip and hold the gun firmer. Turning around you face both of them and Mason’s face reflected the horror in yours.

The creature was near your hiding place as you could feel the vibration he’s steps made. It felt as if an animal was trying to regurgitate something and you weren’t wrong as a skull landed close to the rock you three were hiding in.

When the creature move, you crawl closer to the skull that seemed to have something around it. It was the dog tags, with a name on it. A sob escaped you and as quiet as you could, you took the metal chain and then crawling back to where Mason was, you showed to her.

“ he’s dead” She whispered, you put the chain on your pocket.

“ This was a bad idea,” you said resting your back against the rock.

Conrad was looking if the creature was somewhere near. Hearing the footstep of the soldiers made you all rise from behind the rock.

“ Lets move” shouted Packard.

Without much more you tried to keep close to the group, as there was no much more that could be done as all of you were already inside. One thing that had changed was that now many others were terrified and it didn’t help calm you down.

You saw Randa stop and signalled for him to keep moving, but he pointed to the camera. Tears started to blur your sight as you looked above Randa and saw the creature a couple of feet behind.

“ Randa” You whispered voice breaking, tears already spilling from your eyes. Randa raised his head and looked one last time at you.

Slivko was the best to react and start shooting at the lizard-like creature. The flash of Randa’s camera making it clear when he had gone through the monster throat.

The monster diverted his direction to avoid the shooting but you were there on the ground without moving.

“ Y/n” Keep saying, Conrad. “ Weaver”

“ Y/n,” she said while shaking your arm, with a long breath you took your gun and point it straight ahead.

“ Am fine” you tried saying without your voice cracking and you failed. The flash could be heard still functioning making it easier to know where it was.

When the creature appeared, Mason pushed you towards the other side and without doubt, both started running. The gun wasn't going to do anything to that thing. It went straight to the armament Packard had put and with one movement destroyed it, while also eating the man who had been firing.

As your luck would have it, the creature seemed to have seen you and Mason running, as it was now coming after you two. The shots of the weapons were impossible to ignore, tuning faster you both enter some kind of formation made out of ribs, which the thing started to try to eat through. You heard Packard barking orders and no long after you felt the warmth of the flames brace your skin. Mason helped you get up from the ground and run towards another formation up ahead.

To your left an explosion took place.

“ Slivko” you heard Conrad scream. “ GAS”

Shit broke loose as the toxic gas made the birds that killed Viktor come out of hiding. Your eyes analyzed the floor in search of a weapon bigger than your gun.

Soldiers were being picked up from the ground and thrown up in the sky, somewhere even stab by the birds through the chest.

You had Mason behind as you were shooting to any bird that came your way, making them fly over both of you.

“ Marlow, Sword” You heard Conrad shout. The gas was making it more difficult to breathe and your eyes were filled with tears.

“ Dammit,” you said putting the gun down “ out” is all you told Mason, who was looking around.

“ Come with me,” Said Mason while pulling you by the arm towards Conrad and Slivko. You saw her take out a lighter and throw it towards the creature. Who burst out in flames, the momentum of the explosion throwing you all back and into the ground.

You felt someone heavy fall above you, the pain in your shoulder making itself known once again, making you shout in pain.

“ Conrad,” you said while trying to get air into your lungs “ move” trying to get him off of you. Throwing him a little at your side, you noted that none of you had the energy nor the will to move from the ground. “ A warning would have been nice,” You said laughing. Their chuckles made you calm down a little.

Raising from where he was, Conrad helped Mason and Slivko out the ground. Then kneeling in front of you he put a hand on your neck and raised your face towards him, there was a little of blood running down the side of your face.

“ Are you alright? “ He asked, searching for injuries. Other than the cut you seemed to be okay.

“ I hate this place,” you said looking at his eyes, were you found only worry.

“ You’re not the only one,” Slivko said.

James helped you up and for your surprise put his hand on our neck, trying to make you stop looking around and focus on him.

“I’m fine, really” You looked at him, with a smile. He let out a sigh and kissed your forehead. “ James, are you okay?” You asked, because of the long time you’ve known each other, you had learned to read many of his expression. He was trembling, his breath shacking and somehow the kiss to your forehead didn’t calm you down, not that you were complaining or anything. You could feel his heart beat, fast against his ribs.

He let go of you, realizing you had picked up the trembling and his pulse “ Don’t leave my sight” he whispered into your hair, only for you to hear.

“ Now look colonel, you may outrank me,” Said Hank when all of you were out of that hell hole. “ But I’ve been here a hell of a lot longer, and am telling you that thing that just shreds us was just the first of them”

James was helping Slivko walk, Mason and you were nearby seeing Hank up ahead discussing with the colonel.

and we need to turn back”

“ Not as long as Chapman is out there,” Said him in response.

“ Sorry Colonel Packard” you deliver to James the metal plates and he raised them In the air. “ He’s dead”

“ That changes nothing “ Was what Packard responded “ we’re still going to that crash site”

“ What's in that crash site that you want so badly?” Asked Conrad

“ Guns” he shouted “ Enough to kill it”

“ He didn’t kill Chapman”

“ But he did kill these men” said Packard raising his hand, on which were multiple dog tags of the man he’d lost. “ My men”

“ You can't kill kong colonel, he’s god on this island” Interrupted Hank. “ He’s the only thing keeping those lizard things on the ground”

“ We can't kill kong, that other creature,” Said Brooks, “that's the threat” with the new development it didn’t surprise you he wanted kong alive. “ and they are way more down there,” he said signalling to the floor. “ If you take a species natural competition they proliferate out of control” He tried explaining to the colonel.

“ Then we’ll kill them too after we bring this thing down”

“ I can't let you do that colonel” Said Hank drawing the sword.

All the men raised their sons towards Hank, while the colonel knocks him to the ground.

“ Hold fire” shouted James

“ This is one war, we are not gonna lose”

“ HE’S NUTS, YOU HEAR ME” screamed Hank from the floor.

“ Please, you need to listen to us” San was trying too, to make the colonel listen to reason.

“You're making a mistake “ Said Brooks, the colonel raised his weapon towards him. Without thinking twice you searched for the gun you still had but you didn’t raise it.

“ Please put your gun down Packard, “ You said in a calming tone and moving so that your body was in front of the weapon he was holding.

“ Your lies got my men to kill” he was now pointing at you.

It surprised you, he had n't lowered his weapon but pointed at you instead.

“ There was no way to know that Kong was out there” You tried to get him to reason.

“ and your gonna get us all kill” Said Mason putting herself in front of you.

“ Not our fight,” Said James, takin Mason by the arm and pulling her behind him.

“ Who side are you on? captain”

“ Ok colonel, “ he said.

After explaining where the helicopter they were searching was, James, signalled back you and your group.

“ Am gonna take these civilians back to the boat and wait for you there, alright? ”

By the face of the colonel, he was thinking if it was a good idea, it took him a little longer to decide to put down the weapon, you could feel the Colonels' eyes on you.

“ And what about you?” He asked.

“ I don’t have military training” you answered, but he huffed as a response.

“ Am gonna have a conversation with your father, when we go back … Lets go kill this thing?” Said the colonel to his group, who all started walking to the direction that Conrad had signalled.

You helped Hank to stand up.

“ You need to stop him,” said him.

“ You wanna talk with him about It again, he seems to really go for it the first time” Said Mason

“ He’s losing his grip”

“ He lost his grip” You corrected.

“ Are you lost? Which way”

You’ve been walking for longer than it seemed, you knew Conrad and the way he was behaving let you know that he had lost the track.

“ Brooks, calm down,” You said.

“ Hang On”

Something that sounded as a roar broke the silence that had formed.

“ Wait here,” Said James, waking ahead. “ I gotta get to higher ground to find the river”

“ Hey,” said Mason “am coming too”

You saw how Conrad and Mason disappear in the density of the jungle.

You’ve been thinking during the walk here, how colonel Packard though of killing kong on his own home. If the group hadn’t thrown the seismic charges then he wouldn’t have killed those men.

This was supposed to be an expedition, maybe find a new species or two at most. Never had it cross your mind that the monster Randa talked about was even real. You had diagnosed him with PSD linked to what had happened to him and that his mind had searched a rational explication, creating a monster.

You could stop the colonel from making a big mistake, killing kong wasn’t the solution. After ten minutes of debating whether or not you should, you got to the conclusion that it was better to at least try. Raising from your spot next to Marlow you looked at Brooks.

“ I Need your weapon,” You said.

“ I know that look, what are you going to do?”

“ Am going to stop Packard” You said while extending your hand.

“ But what do you think you’re going to do?” Asked him holding the gun close to his body. “ Am sorry, its because you're my friend that am asking you to stay”

“ We were an expedition, we weren’t meant to alter the habitat and woke those things up” You signalled to the jungle, the sun was starting to set. “ Brook please, he’s just like you and me, trying to protect what we care about” you sighed “ I have to at least try”

“ And what do I tell Conrad,” He said pointing where Conrad had left.

“ Whatever you want”

“ Oh, boy,” say Marlow.

“ Here,” Said San behind you

“ Thanks “ you smiled at her, taking the gun and giving her your backpack.

“ Please be careful” she smiled back

“ Be careful? “ Said brooks too, trying to encourage you but with doubt on his voice.

Having the encounter with kong had put things on perspective for Conrad. He was simply trying to protect what was his. After helping Mason down the mountain they both ran towards where you and the others were supposed to be. He was dying to tell you he’d make his mind about helping kong and stopping Packard.

“ Don’t shot “ he shouted to Brooks who was pointing at him.

“ Tell me man, which way are we going?” Asked Brooks, tired.

“ You all back to the boat… is that way,” he said gesturing to his right. “ Wait for us until dawn if we're not back by then, just go”

“ Where are you going? “ Asked Marlow

“ We're going to save kong” reply, Conrad.

“ Not without me, pal” Said Marlow

Looking around Conrad searched for you, normally you would encourage him or something of that kind. You weren’t there, with the group.

“ Where’s y/n?” asked Mason before he could

“ That one decided to stop Packard, long ago” Said Marlow. “ I think we better hurry, Churchill” Conrads mouth went dry.

Mason heard Conrad curse under his breath.

Of course, you had decided to take matters into your own hand, Conrad only wished that you would have waited, a little before heading to the jungle. Now he felt eager to know, if you had made it out of the jungle, and if you had, that the colonel had not shot you.

Masterlist

#James Conrad #captain James conrad #imagine #james conrad x reader #james x reader #kong #kong skull island #james conrad imagine #reader #fluff #so far #mini-series #thepageofa1000worlds #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine

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