#because it was the only thing that seemed to make any sense to me. macbeth goes 'tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow'

[tonydaddingham]

still near catatonic about the show and the direction in which it was taken. ive seen macbeth on stage once before, and then on screen a few more times, and yet this one is probably the most sensitive, clever, and plain interesting version ive seen out of all of them?

you have david portraying macbeth as this really formidable, brave and lauded general, initially curious but otherwise sceptical at The Prophecy. that's a given. but then he gradually succumbs to ambition and greed; but what i didn't expect is the choice to emphasise how pitiful his wavering resolve would be? how he oscillates so heavily between heeding that greed, but initially clings to the last vestiges of his honour and morality. it's not just that he's a dick with sudden flashes of morality; you can feel that there's a war going on in there, and a constant underlying fear and terror. with macbeth in general i think it's tempting to immediately make macbeth either a mindless and easily-swayed tool of his wife or to make him outright bloodthirsty and tyrannical from the onset, but you don't... get that in this? at all? and it pleasantly surprised me. instead you get a deliciously insidious and creeping mania, steadily suffocating him (beautifully portrayed by a combination of the rest of the company, the score, and the lighting) and get to watch how it just ousts every last good and decent part of him, done so perfectly that i genuinely felt terrified and tense the whole time.

and then LADY MACBETH oh my GOD SO. so. from the first moment that she was on stage, cush was just utterly captivating. i didn't ever want to look away from her, even as she lingers in the background??? her madness, such as it is (and for lack of a better term), is so apparent from the very first moment that she's on stage; jittery hand movements, darting eyes, and a sweet, almost childlike voice? for me, the fact that this is not a wholly scheming, cruel, and demonised version of her, and instead is a lady macbeth that is achingly vulnerable, was so refreshing. like yeah she's visually marked with this sort of innocence, but it carries into cush's mannerisms and delivery too. despite her plotting and what she goads macbeth into doing - almost to a point that it seems like he deliberately uses her ambition as a scapegoat for his own - you end up seeing her as a lost soul, of sorts, and want to protect her from her own mind. the fact that you don't see a manifestation of her 'madness', only macbeth's, makes it all the more intriguing. and the language and imagery of rejecting her femininity and womanhood not only provides a contrast to macbeth re: perceived weakness/lack of conviction, but also further elucidates on how haunted of a person she seems to be? idk if that makes any sense but at times it felt like i was watching a play composed of ghosts right from the beginning. favourite portrayal of lady macbeth ever, hands down.

and then god im going to dream about the blocking and the choreography for bloody ages; not just the ceilidh (which was awesome, loved that sm) and the fight scene, but the choices in how each character moves around and uses the stage, and how they interact with each other (in this, lady macduff was particularly mesmerising goddamn). epitome of this however is a) the opening of the whole play because 🙃🫣🫠, and b) act 4 with the song of the witches (i don't want to spoil it or any of the other more horror-like scenes but im now intrigued that max webster also did king lear 👀 and would be very interested if he did something like othello, too). last thing was the sound; i didn't read much up on the first run before seeing it, so the only feature that i really knew about was the sound design- i was initially worried that it might be a bit gimmicky? but fuck it was complete genius.

anyway so this was a complete ramble but if anyone is still unsure whether to try getting on the day tickets just. do it. it's an incredible version of macbeth, and im fucking pumped that i get to see it twice more, because there is just so much that im sure i didn't pay enough attention to, and absolutely deserves it. amazing company, amazing play, and whilst - don't get me wrong - i feel this is one of his most defining (if not The defining) shakespeare role for david, i truly didn't expect to be so blown away by literally everything else.

[the-deadrobin]

Jason Todd Headcannons

I will probably add more later, because I surely forgot a few.

Half of these don't make sense, but they're fun.

Jason is a huge Literature nerd and an even bigger Jane Austen fan. He's also a huge romance lover. But he likes the wholesome cutesy shit. (I also think he just loves poems) But even so, he likes Shakespeare especially the tragedies like Macbeth.

He is the only Bat Alfred allows in the kitchen. Jason used to learn to cook from/help cook with Alfred back in his Robin days. Thus he is a surprisingly good cook, second only to Alfred.

Jason smoked when he was an Alley kid before being Robin and he still smokes as Red Hood. He also smokes on rooftops while Bruce has his Galas and the press are all over it.

This one is kinda funny but I love the idea of the Wayne family being like the Kardashians of Gotham (just much more useful) and Dick and Jason are absolute heartthrobs. (I'm so going to elaborate on this with detail in another post)

The Bat-fam don't know about the all-blades, or the all-caste. Because the situation just never called for it.

Anesthesia or sedatives either don't work on him, or wear off him much faster than normal. Same with alcohol.

Being a Gothamite, a Bat, and trained with the League Of Assassins, I imagine Jason has trained himself to have immunity to poisons and toxins (mostly but not all) (I believe its called Microdosing)

Jason has that good old white tuft of hair. Whether from head trauma or the Lazarus remains a mystery.

Jason is dramatic as hell. And extremely petty too. Spite drives this man. He does everything he can (no matter how small or big it might be) to spite Bruce.

Most of his younger siblings don't prank him unless they're looking for all out war, in which him, Dick and Steph form an alliance and go batshit insane (pun not intended)

Leading me to my next point: Jason is very competitive.

He's also a horrible role model because whenever any of the siblings fight (namely Tim and Damian) he just makes shit worse and watches the chaos he helped create.

Jason is big on revenge. He has a list is all I'm saying.

Jason probably has claustrophobia (what with being stuck in a damn coffin and all that)

I think that all of the bat siblings (except Dick, because he has the Big Bro power) has a blackmail list on everyone in the house. But no one can seem to find blackmail for Jason just because Jason is so damn good at covering up what he does that even if it was obvious he did something, there'd be no evidence of it.

Which leads to the fact that I think Jason is an extremely good liar. And he uses that to make his lies really weird and borderline crazy but people still believe him because he's just so convincing. Like, whenever he lies to Bruce, Bruce just believes it. And the other batkids are in the corner like: what??? It wasn't even a convincing lie!! But then they find out about an instance Jason has pulled this shit on them and realise how believable it actually is. (And that was only when he was caught) but Jason never does this to Alfred, because no matter what Alfred can always catch his lies.

Jason regularly has tea time with Alfred. They talk about books, food, Jason's schemes to fuck with his family and Alfred secretly gives him ideas. But everyone else in the family aside from Bruce and Jason always think Alfred is this innocent old man.

Also one of my favourites is that Jason jokes about his death. A lot. Everytime he sees an opportunity he takes it. Bruce and Dick (and to some degree Tim) are so uncomfortable everytime he does it, but Steph and Damian find it the funniest thing ever. Duke has absolutely no clue why Jason keeps making these jokes about dying, because no one told the poor guy. Cass is as clueless as Duke and Babs is always caught so off guard by it. Alfred is always mortified but he doesn't show it because he knows its Jason's coping mechanism.

I wholeheartedly believe that Jason drops off the face of the Earth occasionally. He just goes completely off-grid, no one (except sometimes Roy or Steph) know how to contact him or where he went. Not a single bat can find him when he does this. And that half the time he's doing this, he's just going to the Fields Of All to hang out with Ducra and some monks, or having mother son bonding time with Talia. Then the other half he's either having a nuch needed vacation in the beach, or going on a extremely dark and broody conquest to solve a large case and ultimately failing into its rabbithole and never attempting to get out. (He hates to admit it, but it's a lot like Bruce sometimes)

When Jason is out as Jason Wayne he totally wears makeup. Either just foundation to cover up his scars, or when he's feeling it maybe some black eyeliner and eyeshadow for Galas. So almost nobody recognises him as Jason Wayne while he's in normal civvies and he can wander Gotham freely. (Unlike Dick, who has to style his hair differently, wear a cap, change his wardrobe and still gets paparazzis)

Jason regularly quotes book and poems and the only person who has a chance of understanding him is Alfred.

This whole tumblr post.

Jason died before the Internet became as huge as it is now. So, Jason is the least technologically advanced in the family. He's the equivalent of a grandfather. Barely can use a computer without yelling for someone. Goes into Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss mode upon realising the stupidity of the scenario. It drives Tim and Babs insane. More of that here.

Everyone knows he loves Wonder Woman. He has Wonder Woman clothes, a bottle, a figurine, comics, etc. Once, he got a small tattoo of her logo under his ear mainly to spite Bruce. (Because he has accepted that, that's half his life purpose at this point).

But secretly, under the Wonder Woman jackets and tucked in between the pages of the comics are Green Arrow shirts and bookmarks. Only because he knows Bruce notices these small things and it gnaws away at him because Jason has never touched Batman merch since his ressurection. Roy does the same thing but with Batman merch.

Jason and Damian met in the League Of Assassins and were pretty close before going to Gotham for entirely different reasons. No one in the family knows about this and always wonder why they can communicate so well without using a word. (They did that a lot while sneaking around Nanda Parbat so Ra's wouldn't notice).

Jason and Steph are absolute besties. They're a chaos duo who love tormenting Bruce and are practically bff soulmates. But it's strictly platonic.

He's the kind of guy who would unironically recite a monologue from Macbeth without a hit him, just to motivate his goons.

This post

Also this post

Also, also, this post (I'm sorry, its just these posts are on point)

This one too-

[ingravinoveritas]

I’m excited for the renewal of GO3 but I’m also kind of a little worried for David because he’s been performing McBeth for 6 six weeks now and rehearsals are also killer and now their set to film GO? Just thinking about this exhausts me so I can’t imagine how he would feel (and Michael also for that matter since he’s been rehearsing for his own show). Also, please please PLEASE don’t let GT and AL be in GO PLEASE

Hear, hear, and three cheers to the renewal of GO 3!

All I can say is, it's about damn time we finally got this announcement. I am ineffably thrilled as well to know that we will have our boys back together in Scotland to bring us the resolution to Aziraphale and Crowley's story.

In terms of filming, I did see the press release that said GO 3 filming would begin "soon," but I think "soon" is a relative term here. David's run in Macbeth goes until early February, and then Michael is in Nye at the National Theatre from the end of February until May 11th. So "soon" likely means a good six months from now at the earliest (i.e., mid 2024). Hopefully that means both David and Michael will have time to rest up and prepare for the start of filming GO 3, but I would imagine them both feeling a sense of excitement and anxiety at their forthcoming schedules.

What I think Michael and David likely do not feel anxiety about, however, is the prospect of getting to spend more time with each other. And we know they are already seeing each other at least somewhat regularly right now, what with Michael being in London at the moment, so it stands to reason that Michael and David are going to be frequent fixtures in each other's lives and worlds for a very good portion of the next year. Lovely.

In terms of Georgia and Anna possibly being in S3, I will echo what @thereallovebug previously excellently said, which is that it is very tiring to think that we haven't even had the GO 3 announcement for a day, and already people are calling for them to be cast in the show, and it's just...can we not even fully process/absorb this news before jumping to yelling at Neil to cast people? Or maybe just skip the "yelling at Neil to cast people" part completely? I'm just confused as to why there has to be an immediate call to have them in the show when there may not even be a place for them in it.

I also keep thinking of the discussion that took place when the news about GO 2 first came out, which was that having any family member of Michael's or David's would be distracting, and we saw what ended up happening with Peter Davison and Ty. I thought Peter did very well as Job, but Ty just seemed out of place the entire time and it was like you could "see" him acting instead of just...being, and as a result, his performance did not quite gel with the rest of the scene.

The takeaway point here is that the role of Ennon could have gone to any number of aspiring young actors, talented actors looking for a shot at the big time, but who did not get to have that opportunity due to nepotism. It only makes sense, then, that the same would hold true for GT and AL. And to me, it's disrespectful to the show, to Neil, and to Michael and David at this point to act as if GO 3 is somehow "not good enough" unless GT and AL are in it. As if the thousands of other talented actors in the UK aren't good enough simply because they're not Georgia and Anna. I've been accused on multiple occasions of only disliking Georgia and AL because of who their partners are, but the fact that so many people are only fans of theirs for the same reason is apparently not a problem.

(I will not go into detail here about the myriad of reasons why people are fans of Georgia and AL's because of who their partners are, but I suggest reading this post from @artificial-indulgence, who has perfectly enumerated my own thoughts on the subject.)

It is for the reasons that are mentioned in the post I just linked to that I feel many fans are unwilling to see the reality of things, which is that Georgia is a passable actor, but Anna is not, and any halfway decent casting director is not going to overlook that. I'm thinking back to an Ask I answered yesterday about her being edited out of the photo used for the I Talk Telly Awards and (more significantly) that no one actually seemed to notice that she was missing.

Given that, it's highly unlikely that someone whose performances are so unmemorable would be cast in the third installment of a major global TV show--at least purely based on merit. And knowing how important this third season is, how it's meant to resolve Aziraphale and Crowley's story and give us what Neil and Terry envisioned so many years ago, it would be truly unfortunate to see all of that overshadowed by other things.

But yes, today was very much a day filled with good news (and which I wholeheartedly appreciated, given that I am dealing with some difficult personal issues at the moment). More thoughts to come in a follow up post, so stay tuned...

[paradox-n-bedrock]

Hey! I saw throughout some of your tags that you got to see both Macbeth and The Enfield Haunting! (to which I'm insanely jealous, please hand over your memories to me at your earliest convenience!) What did you think of them??

Oh hi!!

The Enfield Haunting was enjoyable. Reviews for it have been overly harsh, for the most part, and I think part of that might be the genre bias horror often faces. The dialogue is clunky, particularly in the beginning, but I can say it's a fun show if you're a Conjuring, Enfield Poltergeist, or general haunted history fan. It presents the supernatural influence vs troubled children aspect in a balanced way, as is necessary for this plot. It also builds tension rather effectively once it gets going, while letting Catherine punctuate it with moments of lightness and her usual impeccable timing. There are some really good parts where a theme seemed to come together of this overwhelmed woman dealing with a rotating cycle of overbearing men (invasive investigators, infatuated neighbor, disrespectful ex-husband, and the poltergeist, of course) making nuisances of themselves in her home while she's just trying to push through each day without losing herself or her children to their collective unhappiness. If the theme had carried through more cohesively, it would have been a strong play. Unfortunately, I was left yearning for a bit more of that story, as it gets messy and lost maybe two thirds of the way though when the focus shifts to the investigator. But mainly, Catherine is so, so talented. She carries the whole thing on her back, with some help from the young actress who plays a very creepy Janet. It's hard to take your eyes off of her as Peggy, even when she's harried and anxious or reacting in furious silence to the action happening on the other side of the stage. She just... draws your gaze. And when she steels her spine to stand up for her family and her space, she's positively luminous. Plus there's an unexpected delight in a couple of scenes where Catherine sings Only Wanna Be With You--very sweetly, just a bar or two--and my heart felt like it was going to fucking burst. Hello, her voice... I need her to do another musical, preferably one we get a soundtrack to.

And she's so kind at the stage door. It was a two show day and she had a con the next morning but she still took the time to speak to every single person that was waiting there.

__

Macbeth, I wasn't carrying even the slightest hope of seeing but then I was able to get a standing ticket in my cart while on the flight there (though I had to let it go) and realized my years of stalking concert presales were about to come in handy. Ironically, my partner was the one who did snag the tickets two days later. I... actually ended up with a first row seat, though she was in the standing section. But that's just me rambling about the process because I still can't believe it worked out the way it did.

I'm not even sure what to say about the show itself. The whole cast is phenomenal. The production is conceptually very cool. The audio tricks they play with the witches--via a headset for each audience member and the eerie sense of movement and foreboding conveyed by bilateral audio--plus the starkness of the empty white stage and simple dark costuming just work. The contrast of the blood when David is centerstage, distressed and panting as he washes it away, feels poignant rather than pretentious. He's captivating the whole way through, but especially then, when he temporarily strips away the ambition along with his stained clothes to reveal the broken and guilty thing underneath. There's nothing like how DT delivers Shakespeare--the meaning flows out of him as naturally as the words themselves and it's incredibly approachable without losing any of its gravitas. The dynamic between the leads is atypical in a really lovely way. David's Macbeth and Cush's Lady Macbeth come across more like codependent partners and ruthless accomplices than a greedy but hesitant royal and his calculating wife egging him on. He looks to her for support rather than a push to kill Duncan, and the adoration between them is palpable, even as they each deteriorate in their own ways. I walked out of this show feeling so deeply affected, it was like a religious experience.

(Macbeth also feels very gender, which shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who's a fan of DT's Benedict, though this is obviously in a very different way. As does Malcolm, played by Ros Watt--who's non-binary--and Ross, played by Moyo Akandé. I adore the whole cast, honestly.)

[winterpinetrees]

The Gap Years part 5

The road trip kids wake up on the first real day of their adventure. Plans are considered, elf society is rightfully mocked, but mostly I just infodump. :)

i am beating back the cringe emotions with a stick. this is the cringe website. let me post about my homegrown blorbos, brain.

June 11th 2019

Lakeport, California

The realization of where he is and what is going on hits Brian in waves.

He’s a good sleeper (he travels enough that he has to be), but this doesn’t seem to be his room. Brian lifts his head and his chest hurts, and it’s not a falling off of a dirt bike/surfboard into a tree/sandbar at a frighteningly fast velocity type of hurt either. He winces, and his arm hits something else.

Ah. The second realization. He’s sharing a bed. Contrary to popular belief, he does not do this very often. Light is already pouring in through the curtains, so it doesn’t take Brian long to realize that the other person is Clay. He still looks asleep. That makes sense. Brian has always been an early riser. He sits up in bed and looks around. Cheap curtains, beige walls, a blurry photo of a lake? They must be in a motel. Yes. He’s just graduated high school and now he’s going on a road trip with his friends. Brian swings his feet onto the ground and stands. He walks to the bathroom, but sees something else on the ground between the two twin beds. A pile of clothes? He approaches. It’s a person under a blanket. That’s when he remembers the magic, the sword slash, and the blood that might still be under his fingernails because he refused to spend half an hour washing it off like Lady Macbeth. The person on the floor is a prince. Brian is responsible for his safety and by extension the fate of the world. How the hell did he get here? (He enthusiastically volunteered, that’s how.)

Over the next few minutes, Brian cautiously wakes up both of his friends. They have some things to discuss that they don’t want Marin to overhear. They move to the other side of the small room and gather in an awkward huddle.

“We are harboring an alien prince,” Clay types out onto his cell phone. He guessed that elves had very good hearing, and convinced everyone else to do the same. “We need some plan for if he turns on us. He can control our minds”.

They’d asked Marin last night if there was any visible sign that someone had been charmed. He said yes, but only if the charmed person was aware of it, which never happened unless the attacker was overconfident or rushing. Not very reassuring.

“Like what? There’s very little we can do about that”. Sierra replies. She is typing on that infamous computer, and doing it very quickly.

“Maybe we agree to talk to each other and call out weird stuff? S, we've already been doing that“. The girl nods. Clay was taking forever to type anyway.

Brian understands. He's the only one who's trusted Marin at all. “So the plan is to be skeptical of everything”.

“That way we'll be aware of anything that is changed”. Clay wears glasses that are a little too big and stubbornly refuses to do anything with his long brown hair. He looks perfectly ordinary, a bit disheveled, and it’s entirely on purpose. He puts the phone down and starts speaking. Apparently, this bit isn’t classified. “What do we know so far?”

Among other things, they know that Prince Marin Sondaica is 86 years old, stuck in between physical adulthood at 81 and full social adulthood at 108. (Just like how they’re all old enough to vote and drive but not drink or be considered separate from their parents). The elf world is parallel to theirs, with the capital existing in the same place as San Francisco. It’s a single global dictatorship with two associations of noble families fighting for control. Marin's family was reasonable enough, but Gens Mercuralis did a coup and is trying to take over the world. They should have a year or two until elves become common knowledge and the status quo collapses.

Then Sierra adds what she knows from years of university lab internships and overheard conversations. If you see a flash of color, especially green, prepare to run or fight or die. Magic is enough like radiation that a modified geiger counter can tell you if danger is near. Elves seem to avoid fighting underground. They’re very careful to not get caught on camera.

Brian turns his head and sees a cat’s eye glow in the dark. Their new friend is awake. Sierra and Clay seem to think there isn’t anything special about Marin, but he knows better. Brian is very familiar with how people move, and Marin is just a bit too quick. More than that, he moves very quietly. It reminds him of how he’s heard friends talk about parkour (land quietly, work with your body, reduce the impact on your joints), and he wonders again just how fragile elves are.

The prince approaches the group and they talk. They need a plan to stay alive, and they’re kind of a mess. Marin explains that they shouldn’t be attacked unless they are either alone, or somewhere elves can plan an ambush and keep things secret. It’s counterintuitive, but they need a human shield. Marin also has some ideas about elven settlements in the human world that might be sympathetic to them. Elves who love wild humanity will probably oppose the new government’s plan. Unfortunately, that means that Ishtar has probably sent soldiers to subdue them. Every visit will be a gamble. They might find allies, but they could also very easily get killed. Maybe it would be better if they traveled on their own for a bit.

...

So they get in the car and drive again. They eat breakfast at the most crowded place they can find and drive towards a hardware store where Sierra can buy a geiger counter. They come up with a system. Brian drives, Clay rides shotgun with the concussion rifle under his seat, Sierra googles things and tinkers with the geiger counter, and Marin tries his best to cast a more permanent illusion over the car. They listen to music from whatever radio stations they’re driving by, pester Marin with questions about his past, and plot a jagged course up California.

“Who else was in the human world when the coup happened? If you can switch between worlds so easily, there must have been some other people who got away”. Brian is a student of history. He knows a bit about how coups go, but mostly he's just curious about the magical society next door.

Marin stares out the window at miles and miles of farmland. “I can’t be sure. Genus Sondaica had over twenty people in it before the coup, and four of them were about my age. Those are the ones that were most likely to escape. We’re old enough to defend ourselves, but not influential enough to be primary targets”. His voice is very level. “But our genus also has allies. Each of those has even more people, but there’s no way of knowing who’s… left.”

A few seconds pass before Sierra speaks. “Yeah, but who was here before the coup? You didn’t know anything had happened, remember? You just brainwashed us for fun. Who else would do that?”

“The only one I'm certain of is Zerada Adust, my betrothed”.

Woah. Hold on a second. Brian knows that the elves have a hereditary noble class, but his betrothed? “You're betrothed to someone?”

“Ah. That’s not a Western concept anymore, is it? Most of the high nobility are betrothed to someone. It is important for keeping the nobility strong”.

Brian blinks. “Arranging marriages to try and keep an elite class 'strong' has caused some pretty big problems on earth”. Like, the fall of several dynasties.

Sierra rolls her eyes. "Marin, if you're using how messed up your society is to avoid talking about your girlfriend, it's working".

He looks around at the car. “Magical power is mostly genetic,” he adds as if that makes the statement more acceptable instead of less.

“And that's eugenics. That is also not good. Clay, are you still in favor of the elves taking over the world?” Brian adds. He does not know what to do with this information.

She laughs. “And they’re a monarchy too, remember that?”

“I was under a lot of stress!” Clay replies. "Between that and proposing a quest, I think what I said was a lot more normal".

Brian laughs to clear the air, but it sounds fake. Despite his family history, He doesn't believe in taking the easy way out. There's nothing wrong with choosing to stay and fight. They can't afford to be fighting now though, so he lets the conversation continue and keeps his eyes on the road.

[vaguely-concerned]

hell why the fuck not, have this post about macbeth I wrote during my intense two weeks of fixation this summer, I just found it in my drafts lol. tl;dr: macbeth is actually a dark dark comedy and I am right about this 

- I love macbeth as a character so much because -- you know that excellent post that keeps going around, about how switching main characters between the tragedies would avert the whole plot and stop it from becoming a tragedy? (I think the initial example in that post is hamlet and othello) well, I honestly don’t think there’s any plot macbeth would fix, because he’s so gloriously, amazingly self-perpetuating in his disasterness. like give him free reins and hamlet still probably ends in exactly the same amount of carnage, just by different roads. *mwah* it’s perfect     

- I don’t think I’ve ever seen/heard the part with hecate and the weird sisters before, and let me just say that it cracks. me. up. that she’s like ‘that one? you’re wasting time and baboon’s blood on that one? ladies  l a d i e s  he barely even needed the push, if you’d just waited a few years he would’ve jumped off that slippery slope all on his own and you could’ve been doing something USEFUL in the meantime’  

- another thing that cracks me up: the fact that literally no one buys the macbeths’ story at any point. they’re all being real polite about it because they’re in their house and macbeth probably has a hand on his sword and an increasingly wild look in his eyes the whole time, but  n o n e  of them are buyin any of this lol

- after macbeth has spoken to the witches for the second time and he decides that actually, you know what my problem has been this entire time? thinking things through TOO much before I do them. from now on I am living from impulse to murdery impulse baBEY get in losers you’re going slaughtering (slash bird hunting ;____;). *chef kiss emoji* like what a takeaway from his current predicament, what a treasure of a character, what an absolute self-driving trainwreck of a man, I realize I am a couple of centuries late but I LOVE him 

- I have found such a deep well of hatred within myself for macduff this time around. you know what? his wife is right about him just leaving them for the slaughter like the world’s biggest asshole and then being all manpain-y about it, I can’t believe mama macduff probably died by caesarean section for this sorry waste of a man  

- I have always liked the reading that the macbeths used to have a child who died -- it adds a level to the whole thing that really gets to me. it even gives more meaning to the death of young siward; macbeth spends the whole play murdering (or trying to murder, sick moves fleance) other people’s sons. it also perfectly brings out the immense feeling of senselessness that winds through the whole play -- they’re sullying their hands for all this power and it has no future, it never had a future, they have no children anymore. (also I don’t think their ambitions become any less immoral for being a symptom of unprocessed grief, or that it lessens the theme of how self-perpetuating evil can be once you let it get rolling, it’s just a more complex and human starting point) 

- the perfect agony of lady macbeth starting the play with her grand dreams of ‘sovereign sway and masterdom’ and ending it on her last lines wanting nothing more in this world than for her husband to take her hand and come back to bed with her so they can sleep... good ol’ billy boy knew what he was about huh

- like I said I kind of despise macduff (macbeth is objectively much worse as a person but he gets his comeuppance and also I love him) but I do feel bad for the sheer emotional whiplash of that scene where malcolm is first jerking him around to Test him and then he gets the news about his family. he must’ve just looked at malcolm for a moment like ‘...pls say sike again your highness???🥺’    - listen I don’t want to victim blame here, but at the beginning king duncan did ask that dude ‘so what’s up with this macbeth fella’ and that dude was like ‘I’d say his main trait is that he is capable of committing bloody carnage without hesitation’ and duncan was just like ‘:) aw that sounds lovely I think I’ll go to his sleepover tonight’     

- I Do Not Understand why people would play banquo without humour when one of his first lines is literally a joke along the lines of ‘wow bro did we smoke something, are you seeing this too’, why would you make him all Stately and Dignified when the text suggests much more of a jovial likability. (in general this play has a lot of darkly funny lines; a bunch of macbeth’s dialogue has a grim deadpan comedy to it and finding someone who understands that when they play him is a treasure.)  

[ihopesocomic]

So, this is a response to this one anon who said they saw Zira as a devout follower rather than a lover of Scar and had their own theories about the father of her cubs (I think you said you believe it to be one of Rani's relatives?) because Tumblr is fun and ate their ask ugh.

-

What we know is the following:

Scar did not have a canon mate on screen and expressed absolutely no interest in having one. And no, I'm not counting him having a crush on Sarabi in the remake because the remake is garbage.

It is stated numerous times that Scar did not father Kovu. Yes, this is so it's not problematic for him and Kiara to be a thing but it further confirms that Zira's infatuation with Scar was probably one-sided.

Kovu was the last cub born in Scar's kingdom before Simba took it back and exiled his loyalists.

The whole script is a colossal mess because it's clear to me that Nuka, Vitani and Kovu were meant to be Scar's children by their designs and the frantic 'doth protest too much' additions to the script that Kovu isn't so he can hook up with Kiara, even though it's weird how Scar would pick this random cub that doesn't belong to him to be his heir. Though we only have Zira's word on this and she's obviously... Not all there. :c

And we have to accept that because yeah, nobody wants a canon incestuous Disney relationship on their hands and the writers wanted to do a Romeo and Juliet storyline so bad lol

So, yeah, I guess I've always seen Zira as just being a devout follower as well, even though the reasons for her loyalty are never fully established. If it's not because she was his mate, then something else needed to brought to the table. Unfortunately, it was not and the ages of her cubs complicate matters further. They're too young for her to have had a mate that Mufasa killed in some sort of dispute and they're too old for them to have been fathered by another male after they were exiled, as evidenced by point number 3.

Yes, people have theorised that Nuka and Vitani were fathered by Scar and they were overlooked for Kovu due to being too weak and a female respectively but it's still highly unlikely that Scar would pick a unrelated cub as his heir and Vitani is perfect and awesome and he was never established as a sexist either? That's the whole reason he recruited the hyenas: he knew that the lionesses would rally together and kick his ass ten times over without breaking a sweat. So, if Vitani was his daughter, I have no doubt she would've been picked as his heir over a Random McRandomlion's kid.

It's truly a set of affairs that has befuddled TLK fans and will continue to do so, because - no matter how much you swing it - there's always some major point of various fan theories that try and 'solve' this issue that still don't make a lick of sense. Unless our Romeo and Juliet couple (whether it be Kovu/Kiara, Kopa/Vitani, Vitani/Kiara or w/e) does not play into it, of course. Which seems a small sacrifice to make imho. Because that's truly the monkey wrench in this whole operation. oof

Which is a shame because Scar having a mate and followers and kids was a neat thing to explore and makes Zira a very compelling villain and it just makes me question if the Romeo and Juliet storyline was worth it in the end. You still could've had your Shakespearian link by making Zira a Lady Macbeth figure, which she very much is. It just doesn't seem worth it for all the mess it's created and the fandom frantically trying to fix it for 30 years lol

And that's just honestly how I feel about any theory that crops up about this. I can feel people are really trying to make it work... but it just doesn't because of what we know for a fact: that those kids were 100% meant to be Scar's. No question. - RJ

[goldenkirstein]

never knew what i was missin'

or alternatively, reiner being an oblivious simp

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@clean-soap requested: Hi. I saw that your requests are open and i was wondering if I can request a Reiner x reader. I was thinking the story line could be like My Love Story!! Anime, where Reiner comes and protects you from a creep and the both of you fall in love. However, through some misunderstandings he thinks you like Bertholdt and not him. So he tries to set you guys up, even when you try to be with him. I was hoping for some angst through the story and fluff at the end!

pairing: reiner x gn! reader

wc: 2.5k+

tags: fluff, some angst, modern! au, fem bodied reader, language, mentions of violence & assault, threats of assault, mentions of blood & bruises.

a/n: so i got a little carried away writing this, but i hope this fits what you were looking for. i really loved writing for reiner, its my first time and my first request !! also I haven't watched the anime, but i read the synopsis and tried to make some ties to it !! I hope you enjoy.

this is a work of fiction. please reach out to the necessary hotlines and call for help if you're in any danger. Please read the warnings before reading.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“I’m sorry, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m busy.” You offered the man in front of you an apologetic smile and tried to hand back the tickets he had given you. Occurrences like these weren’t common, but you had your fair share of handing out rejections. It wasn’t something you enjoyed doing; someone was exposing their heart to you, and you had to crush their hopes.

Most understand. Most will leave you alone.

“Is that a no? You expect me to be okay with that?” The man glowered at you; any sight of despondence wiped clean from his face.

“Sorry? I’m not sure-” You stepped back to try to get away from him, back hitting the wall, any sense of composure inside you disappearing. He responded by advancing towards you.

“Are you trying to get away from me? I asked you a question, you ungrateful bitch.” He spat the words at you, grabbing your wrists caging you between his body and the brick behind you. His nails began to dig into the flesh of your wrist, causing you to drop the tickets in your hand. “I bought you those, and this is how you repay me?” His eyes had darkened; you could feel his hot breath on your face, making you sick.

“Get off me, or I’ll scream. I don’t owe you shit.” You sneered at him, trying to twist out of his grip.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. You’ll be scream-” A prominent figure forcefully shoved him off of you before he could finish his sentence. You let out a sob, eyes-widening as you realized what scene was playing out in front of you.

The man was on the ground gripping his nose, which was gushing out blood; the figure was standing over him, chest heaving, fists clenching and unclenching.

The figure whipped his head back to look at you; his expression immediately softened as your eyes met his. You let out a shaky sigh; it was Reiner, the figure was Reiner.

“Lay another hand on them, and I swear you won’t see the light of day again, Grieves.” The man haphazardly stood up and scurried off before Reiner could cause any more damage to his face.

You were frozen to the wall, not even registering that Reiner had walked over to you and was calling out your name.

“Are you okay? Can I look at your wrist, if that’s okay with you?” He gave you a worried look, waiting for your permission before touching you. You gave the blond man a short nod, and he bent down to place his fingers gently around your wrist; you could barely feel them as he carefully examined your forearm.

“What were you doing out at night? If you don’t mind me asking.” His hazel eyes flickered up, a concerned expression still painting his face.

Your breathing had stabilized, Reiner’s hands on your wrist were a comforting presence in contrast to the harsh man who had touched you prior, “I was out with Bert; he was helping me with an assignment.”

Reiner’s jaw clenched at the mention of Bertholdt; you barely picked up on the slight change in expression from him.

“Grieves offered to walk me home, but I had no idea-” You let out a shaky sigh; the jarring experience was still fresh on your mind. The man stood up, giving you a heavy nod.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” Reiner was still worried for you, his mind racking through ways to get your mind off of what just happened. He noticed in the corner of his eye the outline of what seemed to be tickets.

You watched as he bent down to grab the passes, wiping them on his pant leg. “Two tickets to the theatre, how fun!” He looked up at you with a crooked smile.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that, it is fun, I mean, not by yourself though-” You giggled at his awkwardness as he quickly stood up, his cheeks rosy with a blush.

“I got what you meant, Reiner, but to be honest, I don’t think I’ll go.” He shook his head and laughed. You looked at the man and bit your lip, words threatening to spill from your mouth.

He gave you a questioning look and tilted his head. “Reiner, walk home with me. Please?”

Having Reiner near you was already doing enough to calm your nerves, but you didn’t want to be alone after what you experienced. He blinked a few times, processing your request before giving a short nod.

You peeled yourself off the wall and promptly placed your shaking hands in your coat pockets, hoping that spending more time with Reiner might quell any remains of anxiousness you felt.

He waited for you to start walking before matching your steps, eyes flicking between your face and the path in front of the two of you.

Both of you walked in silence, the sound of your shoes clicking against the pavement filling your ears. Reiner spoke first, “I know you said you didn’t feel like going, but you should ask Bertholdt; I’m sure he would love to go with you.”

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Bertholdt? You think he would wanna go with me?”

The tips of Reiner’s ears were coloured a stark red, from only what you could assume could be the cold. He gave you a strained smile, “Yeah, of course, he would; you’re such a kind person, and I hear him talking about you all time!”

“Oh. Yeah, maybe I will ask Bert. Thanks, Reiner.” You hoped that any sign of dejection wouldn’t be evident to the man next to you. Sure, you thought Bertholdt was a nice guy, but it wasn’t him that you longed for; it was Reiner. Moments like these made you doubt the little hope you had that maybe, just maybe, he reciprocated those feelings.

“What play is it anyway?” You asked him, noticing that his shoulders had tensed after you accepted his suggestion.

Reiner realized that he was still holding on to the tickets that he had picked up earlier; he brought them up, reading the fine print, “it’s Much Ado About Nothing, hey, at least it’s not Macbeth.” He whispers at the end, handing you the tickets. You blinked at him before bursting out in laughter.

“You can say that outside of the theatre, you know, you don’t have to whisper it.” Grabbing the tickets from him, you watch as his mouth falls open before he turns his face away from you to mumble curses under his breath.

His face was flushed; it was odd seeing such a burly man get embarrassed at the slightest of things. For you, however, this was commonplace; Reiner was gentle and kind. He never overstepped your boundaries and treated you with compassion. While others would look in fear to him, scared to ever cross paths with him in the dead of night, his presence brought you immense comfort. It wasn’t surprising how quickly you fell for him; you thought he might feel the same, but it was clear that he saw you just as a friend.

“Okay, okay, I’m the idiot ha-ha, sorry for not knowing how theatre works.” He rubbed the back of his head as he smiled at you.

The both of you had gotten carried away in conversation, not realizing that you had already approached your apartment.

“I guess we’re here.” Reiner stopped in front of the pathway leading to the main entrance.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Um, Thank you for walking me back and helping me out back there. You’re a wonderful friend to have, Reiner.” You spun around, already wincing at your word usage.

“You are too. Remember not to put too much pressure on your wrists, okay? I'll see you soon" He waved at you before walking off, mind already replaying the way 'friend' rolled off your tongue so casually.

Reiner felt a sense of ache as he walked away from your apartment. Outwardly he didn't seem like the insecure type, he was well-built, and while people revered him for his strength, most never saw past that.

He didn't mean to scare people off, but Reiner couldn't blame them; he wasn't exactly the most inviting person to be around. He kept a small circle of friends, never venturing outside of his comfort zone unless forced. Practically a walking ‘Danger: Do Not Approach, unless you want to get hurt’ sign.

Then there was you.

For a long time, Reiner didn’t understand why you were so kind to him, never once in fear that he could ever hurt you; not that Reiner ever would, you were precious to him. He wanted to tell you how he felt, that he liked you more than a friend, but Reiner realized early on that it would never work out. While you were seemingly unaware of looks the both of you got in public, Reiner wasn’t. The lingering glances told him everything he needed to know. You deserved better; it would be selfish of him to confess and ruin your friendship just because of a silly crush. Which is why he shouldn’t have felt his heart sink when you mentioned Bertholdt.

You shut the door to your apartment before slipping off your coat and shoes. You were exhausted mentally and physically. Walking over to your kitchen, you poured yourself a cup of water and checked your phone. You were debating as to whether you should text Reiner or not.

Deciding against it, you made your way to your bedroom and began changing your clothes into something more comfortable. While you had calmed down significantly from the earlier events, your heart felt uneasy.

Did Reiner think you liked Bertholdt? You thought you made your attraction to the blond obvious, the soft touches, laughing at his jokes, stolen glances, maybe you were just bad at flirting, or perhaps he honestly didn’t reciprocate the feelings.

It couldn’t hurt to try one more time, right? Gather the courage to confess your feelings, and if it doesn’t work out, then so be it.

You chewed your lip before picking up your phone that you had thrown on your bed while changing, shooting him a text.

Hey! I’m going to be meeting with Bert again at the library tomorrow, do you want to join us, maybe?

You drummed your fingers anxiously against the back of your phone, waiting for his reply.

Sure :) What time?

You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in. This was it. Tomorrow you would tell Reiner how you felt.

--

“Reiner told me that you wanted to go to the play? Well, he didn’t say that he, uh, said you wanted to go with me?” You sat in front of Bertholdt, who paused his typing once he heard what you said.

He lowered his laptop screen to look at you more clearly, “Me? Why would Reiner say-” You watched as the Brunet groaned and his head fell into his hands. “That idiot, I swear to God, he’s so fucking oblivious.”

It was your turn to be confused, but before you could question the man sitting in front of you, Reiner cleared his throat from behind you.

You whipped around and saw him smiling gently down at you; his hands were tucked into his jean pockets, “Hey, can I sit here?” You nodded quickly, pulling out the chair next to you, watching as he promptly slid in.

You passed over your laptop to Reiner, showing him the assignment details, pointing out the parts where you were confused. He nodded at everything you said, mind occupied with the feeling of having you near him. Reiner looked up and caught Bertholdt’s eye, who raised his eyebrows at him.

Bertholdt mouthed a ‘what the fuck’ to Reiner, who furrowed his brows in confusion.

He realized that maybe his friend was jealous that you were giving him your attention and not Bertholdt. He cleared his throat, “Thanks, I got it.”

You smiled at Reiner, pulling your laptop back to where you sat. He looked at you before looking at Bertholdt, “So, did you end up asking Bert?” Reiner smiled back at you, watching as your head tilted in confusion.

Bertholdt spoke before you did, “You know what, guys, I have to get this call; I’ll be right back.” He shot Reiner a look before standing up and exiting the library.

“Um, I did, but uh, Reiner? He was confused why you told me to ask him; I thought you meant he liked me or something?” You turned to face the blond who was writing his notes for you.

He placed his pen down, and you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, “You like him though, right?” His voice came out as a whisper.

You blinked at him, eyes going wide. Had he thought that you liked Bertholdt and not him?

“Wait, what? I don’t like Bertholdt, I mean, I do, he’s a nice guy, but he’s not my type.” You watched as Reiner shifted his body to look at you; he was barely able to keep eye contact.

“Oh. So what is your type then?” His gaze finally met yours, and he watched as the corners of your mouth turned up, forming a smile.

You figured that it was now or never, “If I were to generalize, then I would say, six feet tall, Blond, some facial hair, looks really serious all the time but has the kindest hazel eyes, and the name Reiner.” You saw as the gears finally clicked into place for the man in front of you.

He let out a small chuckle, “You like me? Not Bertholdt? Why?”

“Why not? Reiner, you are the sweetest guy I know; when I’m around you, I feel safe, my heart is on cloud nine, I never have to pretend around you; you’re so genuine and caring. Sure, Bertholdt is a nice guy, but it’s you I like Reiner, always has been”

If Reiner was blushing before, his face had gone completely red now, “How could I have been so dumb. I like you too.” You giggled at his bashfulness; tiny moments like this reminded you that he wasn’t as scary as people described him to be; to you, he was just Reiner, perfectly so.

Bertholdt walked back in, catching the two of you in the middle of your moment, “So I take it that you sorted out whatever was going on?”

You nodded quickly, grinning at Reiner. The Blond turned to face his friend, “I’m guessing you aren’t going to the play with them, are you, Bert?”

Bertholdt gave the Blond a dead-panned look, “No, you idiot, I think it’s pretty clear who they wanna go with,” he tilted his chin in your direction.

You were fiddling your fingers, the sound of your heartbeat loud and clear in your head.

“Would you like to go with me, Reiner?”

For the first time, Reiner felt okay with being a little selfish.

“Yes, I would.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this !! I had a lot of fun writing it, though i understand it was sort of dark in the beginning. this was my first time writing for reiner, so any feedback is encouraged !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu

taglist form in pinned !!

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this, I appreciate lots <33

[hyogonokitsune]

longing -- suna rintarou x reader

college!au, tw alcohol use, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of angst, some smut at the end because I can’t fucking help myself 🥴 (oral -- m and f receiving, choking, creampie, cockwarming hnnff)

11,600 words

--

“Hey, ‘Samu, I gotta go lie down.” You had to practically yell to hear yourself over the music blaring from the speakers. Osamu was less than two feet from you, but you might as well have been yelling from a mile away.

“Huh?”

“I said I gotta go—fuck! Where’s your room?” You had to speak directly into his ear to make yourself understood; Osamu leaned in close to respond to you.

You hadn’t had that much to drink, but the atmosphere of the party was wearing you down. The insanely loud music and the crush of so many sweaty bodies were starting to give you a headache, and you were in desperate need of a quiet place to recharge. Most of the people were crowded into the living areas of the house, so you decided to escape to your friend’s upstairs bedroom to catch your breath.

You shut his door behind you, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs, and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes. Even here, you could feel the bass pounding in your head.

The door opened then, but when you lifted your head to look, it wasn’t Osamu standing in the room. You groaned; you definitely were not in the mood to deal with a random guy.

“Can I help you?” you asked in a hard voice, sitting up to look at him better.

“Can I help you?” he replied, utterly deadpan. He walked over to the desk in the corner and plugged his phone into a charger, his back facing you. “You’re in my room.”

“What? This is Osamu’s room.”

“’Samu’s room is the last door on the left. This is the last one on the right.” He turned around to look at you, his expression indifferent.

Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, quickly hopping off his bed. “I’m so sorry! I must have misheard him. I just needed to get away from there,” you explained, gesturing towards the door.

He smirked at you. “Too much to drink?”

“No, there are just too many people down there, felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

His expression softened at your words. “Yeah, that’s why I came up here, too.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” you said, moving towards the door.

“You’re Osamu and Atsumu’s friend, right?” he said, stopping you. “They said one of their old friends was gonna come over tonight.”

Your hand dropped from the doorknob as you nodded, telling him your name.

“I’m Suna,” he said.

“Oh! You went to high school with them, right? They’ve told me about you.”

“Nothing good, I bet,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.

“Almost all good things,” you responded truthfully.

“’Almost’”, he repeated, a low laugh escaping him. Suna watched you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about something. “You can hang out here, if you want,” he said, motioning for you to sit back on the bed as he pulled out his desk chair. “As long as you don’t puke on anything.”

“I told you, I didn’t drink that much!” you huffed, but you sat down all the same. You had wanted to get away from all the noisy people downstairs, but this guy seemed laidback enough that he wouldn’t make your headache worse; besides, you were interested in talking to someone who had known the twins in high school.

Suna put on a playlist from his phone, setting the volume just loud enough to block out the house music blasting from downstairs. “You’ve known them a while, yeah?”

You nodded. “Since we were kids, but I didn’t go to Inarizaki with them.”

“Good call.”

“They’re not that bad!” you laughed. “Don’t tell them this, but I actually missed seeing them every day, so it’s nice that we ended up going to the same university.”

“Maybe I will tell them that, then they’ll spend more time harassing you instead of me.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You both laughed then, before falling into an easy silence. You shifted to get more comfortable on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you.

“Do you not like parties?” you asked.

“They’re alright,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not too crazy about having ten thousand strangers in my house, though.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah, what’s fun about having random drunk people sweating all over you? I’d rather just hang out with a few friends, ya know?”

He snorted. “Hopefully it’ll be more like that in the future, but Atsumu really wanted to throw a big party for the start of the semester.”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “He just wanted to introduce himself to as many girls as possible.”

“Yeah, that was his not-so-secret motive.”

There was another pause. Suna scrolled through his phone, searching for something.

“You wanna see some embarrassing photos of the twins?”

“Yes, absolutely I do.”

He grinned, unplugging his phone to come sit next to you on the bed. He leaned in close, tilting his screen so you could see it. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, trying to suppress a smile as he showed you a picture of Osamu lying face down on the ground. “He tripped when we were jogging, completely ate shit.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, especially with Atsumu in the foreground holding up a peace sign over his brother’s body.

Most of the photos were of the two of them fighting; having grown up with the twins, it was a little comforting to see that they acted the same around their new friends as they always had with you. You felt somewhat nostalgic at the thought.

Suna paused on a closeup photo of Atsumu, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to swat the camera away. “Ah, this was after he got rejected by a girl and he swore he wasn’t crying.”

“Oh my god, I totally remember that day!” you said, laughing hard. “’Samu called me, begging me to talk some sense into ’Tsumu because he kept whining about being turned down.”

“Seriously? God, knowing that makes this so much better,” Suna said, a crooked grin on his face.

“Please don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He showed you nearly three years’ worth of pictures, pausing at the memorable ones to tell you the stories behind them. It was easy talking to him; you felt able to laugh naturally and relax around him despite being strangers, something that you weren’t able to do with most people you just met.

You didn’t realize how long you and Suna had been talking until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; seeing that it was a call from Osamu, you answered it.

“Y/n, did you leave?”

You were surprised by the panicky note in his voice. “No, I told you I was going upstairs.”

“Yeah? Well where the fuck are ya, ’cause I’m standing in my room and you’re not in here.”

“I’m in Suna’s room—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you heard footsteps stomp across the hall and the door flew open.

“What the hell are ya doing in here?” Osamu asked, still holding his phone up to his cheek.

“We’re fucking, obviously,” Suna deadpanned. You giggled, but Osamu didn’t look amused.

“I got the rooms mixed up, ’Samu,” you explained, getting up off the bed. “Suna’s just been telling me about your time in high school.”

“Oh, great,” Osamu said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s late, you want me to walk ya back to your dorm?”

“Can you even walk, or are you too drunk?”

“It’s Atsumu you should be worried about. He fell asleep on the couch downstairs.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you laughed. You made your way over to Osamu, turning at the door to address Suna. “It was nice talking to you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He was scrolling through his phone again, only giving you a brief disinterested glance. “Yeah, see you.”

 --

 You poked your head into Osamu’s room, only to find that it was empty. It was a little disappointing; you had been hoping to hang out with him for a bit, since you hadn’t had time to see much of him that week, but if he wasn’t around there was nothing to be done about it. The book you had borrowed from him a few weeks ago was already in your hand, so you placed it on his desk and turned to leave.

Stepping back into the hallway, you noticed that the door across from Osamu’s was open. You casually glanced inside as you walked past, catching Suna’s eye from where he sat in front of his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he parroted as he took his headphones off his ears.

“I came by to return a book that Osamu lent me, but I guess he’s not around.”

“I think he’s meeting with a professor.”

“Ah.” You fell silent, and Suna turned his attention back to his laptop. “What are you reading?” you asked.

He looked up again, his expression a little sheepish. “You’re gonna think it’s boring.”

“Try me.”

He sighed. “It’s an article analyzing the influence of Shakespeare’s histories on English nationalism.”

Your face brightened as you spoke. “That was published last week, right? I bookmarked that so I could read it when I got the chance.”

Suna looked surprised at your response, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s pretty interesting so far.”

“I have to say, though, you didn’t strike me as the type to be into that kind of stuff,” you said, just a hint of a teasing tone in your voice.

His expression was blank again as he responded, “Well, I am a literature major.”

“So am I!” you said, smiling at him as you walked into his room and leaned against his desk. “I don’t think we have any classes together, though.”

“It’s a big school.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You paused, thinking of a way to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”

Suna glanced up at the ceiling, bottom lip rolling between his teeth as he thought. “I guess I’d say Hamlet. There’s just so much shit going on.”

“Ah, so you love the drama of it all,” you laughed. “I think it’s a tie between Hamlet and Macbeth for me. The twist at the end is just—” you cut yourself off to do a chef’s kiss, prompting Suna to laugh a little.

“‘Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped’, such a raw line.”

“Yes, exactly!” You were beaming at him, happy to learn that you shared a common interest. Over the course of the last few weeks since you first met Suna, you hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him, despite him being your best friends’ roommate. He usually kept to himself, and on the few occasions when he joined you and the twins to play video games or get dinner together, he didn’t talk much. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, and as you remembered this, you felt a small pang of guilt for disturbing him.

“Well, I’ll let you finish that article,” you said, getting off his desk and making for the door.

His voice stopped you before you could leave. “You can hang out here until Osamu gets back, if you want.” You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he said. “I can finish this whenever.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a rare invitation coming from him. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.

“Have you ever seen ‘Scotland, PA’?” you asked.

“Nope.”

“It’s an adaptation of Macbeth that takes place in a fast food restaurant.”

“Yeah?” he snorted, a grin appearing on his face. “You wanna watch it?” Before you could answer, he was unplugging his headphones and bringing his laptop over to you.

“Sure, if you want to,” you told him, feeling like you were really lucking out.

Suna sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, patting the spot at his side as he started searching for the movie. You sat down next to him, careful to leave a space between you.

When you watched movies with Atsumu and Osamu, their incessant talking usually got on your nerves pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind listening to Suna’s comments. Watching the film together seemed to make any lingering awkwardness between you two disappear, and before long you were laughing and leaning into each other.

“Oh, I hate this part!” you groaned when you reached a certain scene, turning to press your face into Suna’s shoulder.

“Jesus, that’s fucked up,” he chuckled, grimacing as Duncan’s character fell face-first into a deep fryer.  

“Then why are you laughing!” you said, lifting your head, but you couldn’t keep your own laughter from bubbling up in your chest. Suna gave you a crooked grin, your reaction only making him laugh harder.

“Oi, Sunarin! You got a girl in there or something?” Osamu’s voice floated in through the open door, his head appearing a moment later. His eyes widened when he spotted you. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Hello to you, too, ’Samu,” you said dryly. “I came here to return your book, but you were too busy to see me, I guess.”

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled, but he grinned at you all the same. “I’m starving, you wanna grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, later,” you said, turning to look at Suna. “There’s still a bit left in this movie, you wanna finish it now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a little surprised that you’d postpone hanging out with your friend to finish the movie with him.

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Osamu groaned, rolling his eyes at you, “guess I’ll go shower, then. But don’t take too long, I’m so fuckin’ hungry.”

 --

 “Maaaan, I can’t wait until this semester’s over,” Atsumu sighed. “I feel like it’s draggin’ by.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go home for break.”

The two of you were standing on a patch of grass outside the gym, passing a volleyball back and forth. It was chilly, your breath coming out in silvery puffs, but after spending most of your time inside studying for the past week, you had both wanted to get some fresh air.

“I just know I’m gonna fail my bio final.”

“You’ll be fine, ’Tsumu,” you chuckled as you bumped the ball back to him. “You’ve been studying more in the last few days than I’ve seen you do in your entire life.”

“Hey, I studied in high school!” he huffed, his face contorting in mock annoyance as he set the ball. “Just ask Suna!”

The mention of his roommate’s name made your stomach flutter, causing you to mess up the course of the ball.

Atsumu quickly stepped to the side to get under it, giving you a nice, high set in return. “Jeez, you’ve really let your skills slip, huh?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Shut up, piss head.” Your cheeks were already pink from the cold, but you felt them heating up.

“Why don’t you play anymore anyway? I’m pretty sure there’s a women’s club on campus.”

You shrugged as you responded. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m good enough to play for a college team.”

“Bullshit.”

You heaved a sigh. “Fine. I just think it’d be weird to play on a new team. I liked my old team, ya know? All my good memories are of them, I don’t think it would be fun to have to learn a whole new dynamic with new people. I’d feel like I was… I don’t know, like I was cheating on them or something.”

Atsumu looked at you like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “That’s still bullshit.”

“Well I don’t expect you to understand, you freak. You wouldn’t care who your teammates are, as long as you get to play volleyball.” You gave him a smile as you passed him the ball. “I still have fun playing with you and ’Samu, though.”

“You better. If that ever changed, I’d have to rethink this whole friendship.”

You both laughed, but a part of you wondered how serious he really was.

“Fuck, okay my fingers are actually starting to go numb. Can we go inside now?” you asked, shoving your bright red hands into your jacket pockets.

“Yeah, you wanna grab some dinner?”

“Definitely.”

The two of you set off for the campus dining hall, huddled close together for warmth. The sun was just beginning to set, making the bare trees cast long, spindly shadows on the path in front of you. You quickened your pace, shivering a little.

The dining hall was just beginning to fill up; you and Atsumu managed to grab a table near the back of the room before all the spots were taken. You wrapped your freezing hands around your bowl of soup, savoring the warmth. Atsumu wasted no time digging into his own meal.

“You might wanna wipe that rice off your face, ’Tsumu,” you told him in a low voice, “that girl over there is checking you out.”

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth full. His eyes glanced over to the direction where you were tilting your head. “Eh, whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. “You still hooking up with that girl from your stats class?”

“Yeah, I actually really like her,” he said, swallowing a massive bite of food. “She’s sweet, and funny. And she’s really good at—”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. “I really don’t wanna know.”

He smirked at you. “I was gonna say helping me study. Jeez, what were you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.

“What about you? You been seeing anyone?”

“You know damn well the only guys I hang out with are you and ’Samu.”

“And Suna,” he added. You took a big gulp of your soup so you wouldn’t have to say anything in response. He was right, though; lately you had been spending more time with Suna, even without the twins around. “I’m kinda surprised at Suna, actually,” Atsumu continued.

“What, that he’s hanging out with me?”

“No, that he’s not hanging out with any other girls.”

Your brow furrowed a little. You had assumed that Suna got around; he was handsome, after all, and he had that mysterious, reticent personality that most girls went crazy for.

“I mean, back in high school he was kinda known for just having a ton of hookups. I figured he’d keep that up in college. I don’t know, maybe he’s too busy now,” Atsumu mused.

You mulled it over in your head. It seemed to you like Suna had more free time now than he would have had in high school; almost every time you stopped by their house, he was either in his room reading or listening to music, or else playing games with the twins. You were pretty sure he could have fit in a hookup or two if he wanted.

“Maybe he just wants to focus on his classes,” you offered, but it didn’t sound realistic even as you said it.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, like he’s gonna trade pussy for his GPA.”

“Charming, ’Tsumu,” you sighed. “It’s not really any of our business what Suna gets up to, though.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little weird for him.” Atsumu’s arm stretched out to steal some food from your tray. “Maybe he’s met someone he really likes.”

His words made your stomach turn over, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

 --

 A few days into the spring semester, both Atsumu and Osamu came down with nasty colds. By the time the weekend rolled around, they were completely incapacitated, unable to do anything but huddle up together on the couch, sniffling sadly.

You had taken pity on your friends, so on Saturday night (after receiving several dramatic texts from Atsumu that he was dying), you decided to go over to their house to cook them dinner. The twins were curled up on the couch watching a movie, wrapped in thick blankets with used tissues scattered around the coffee table in front of them. From where you stood in the kitchen prepping ingredients, you had a clear view of them over the counter; the sight of them looking so sorry for themselves reminded you of all the times you had gone over their house to keep them company when they got sick as kids. You smiled to yourself, thinking of those fond memories.

“Y/n,” Atsumu whined from the living room, his blanket pulled up over the top of his head. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, baby. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him tighten the blanket around himself, a dopey grin on his face. “Y/n called me ‘baby’,” he said happily.

“Simp,” Osamu muttered under his breath.

Atsumu stuck a leg out from under his blanket to kick his brother. “Don’t be jealous, you scrub!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at them; their usual bickering sounded especially cute when their voices were so congested.

“Even when you’re sick you guys can’t shut up.” Suna had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sunarin! Are you finally gonna hang out with us?” Atsumu asked excitedly.

“Absolutely not. I don’t wanna catch whatever weird disease you guys have—”

“You make us sound so disgusting,” Osamu grumbled.

“I just came down to get food,” Suna continued, grabbing a Cup Noodle from the cupboard.

“Oh no you’re not,” you said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m making dinner for you guys.”

Suna’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he didn’t object. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, watching as you dried the vegetables.

“Suna, could you chop up the mushrooms for me?” you asked. “Oh, but wash your hands first, please!”

Without saying a word, he did as you asked. You could hear Atsumu snickering from the couch.

“Talk about a simp. Y/n actually got Sunarin to help out in the kitchen,” he said, smirking. Suna balled up the paper towel he was using to dry his hands and chucked it at Atsumu’s head.

“You’ve got snot dripping down your face, dude.”

“Shut up!” Atsumu cried, sniffling as he burrowed deeper into his blanket.

With Suna’s help, prepping the ingredients went twice as fast. You expected him to leave the kitchen once it was done, but to your surprise he stayed, leaning against the counter again to watch you as you cooked. Occasionally he asked you a question about what you were doing.

“The chicken takes a little longer to cook than the veggies, so I’m adding that to the broth first,” you explained. “The order you add things affects the flavor, too.”

“How many times have I offered to teach ya to cook, Sunarin?” Osamu called from the other room. “Guess ya only wanna learn when Y/n’s doin’ the teaching.”

Suna glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to what you were doing. “I didn’t really have to know how before.”

“It’s never too late to learn,” you reassured him.

“Nothin’ sexier than a man who knows how to cook!” Osamu yelled, grinning. Suna ignored him, but you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

When the food was nearly done, you asked Osamu to clear a space on the coffee table. With Suna’s help, you carried over the meal you had cooked together, setting down the steaming bowls of soup, rice, and vegetables in front of the twins.

“My nose is all stuffed up, but this still smells so good,” Atsumu said, eyes closed as he sniffed the air.

“Yeah, your cooking’s always the best, Y/n,” Osamu agreed as he reached out with both hands for a bowl of soup.

“Oh, I picked up your favorite tea on the way over here, too,” you said, going back to the kitchen.

“What?! You really are the best!” Atsumu wailed. You walked back into the living room, carrying two mugs in each hand. “What did we ever do to deserve you?”

“It’s a mystery to me,” you replied, but the smile on your face was gentle as you handed the twins their tea. You passed the third mug to Suna, and the look he gave you was nothing short of tender as you sat next to him on the floor. The sight of it made your heart pound in your chest.

When you had all finished eating, you and Suna carried the dishes back to the kitchen while the twins dozed on the couch. After packing up the leftovers, you started washing the dishes and cooking pots, with Suna drying and putting them away.

“Thanks for making dinner for us,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with you.

“Of course,” you said, offering him a smile. “I don’t mind doing it.”

“You must really like those two idiots, if you’re willing to do so much for them.”

You looked over the counter into the living room where the twins were passed out on the couch. Osamu was curled up on his side, his head leaning against the armrest and blanket tucked up tight around him; Atsumu had his head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he snored softly. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully made a feeling of warmth spread throughout your chest.

“I’ve known them since we were three,” you told Suna, gaze still pointed towards the twins. “They’re like brothers to me.” You paused for a moment, thinking, before turning your attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I think it’s normal to want to do things for the people you care about.”

You caught Suna’s eye as you looked up to pass him a freshly-washed plate. He was staring at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t quite name the expression on his face.  

 --

 It came as no surprise when, a few days after taking care of the twins, you came down with a bad cold of your own. You managed to suffer through your classes and had just returned to your room to sleep for the rest of the day when, less than five minutes after changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed, there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you called out, thinking it was one of the girls from your floor coming to check on you.

When Suna stepped into your room, you nearly fell in your haste to jump out of bed.

“Sorry, was I not supposed to come in?” he asked as you disentangled yourself from the blankets.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you told him. You grabbed a hoodie from your closet and quickly pulled it on over your tank top, attempting to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Oh,” was all he said. The two of you stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before you noticed the bag he was holding in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at it.

Suna blinked as if he had suddenly remembered why he was there. “The guys told me you weren’t feeling well,” he said, setting the bag down on your desk and pulling a container out of it, “so I thought I’d bring you some soup.” His voice got softer at the end, and you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks as he held it out to you.

He must have made it and immediately brought it over to your dorm, because the container was still hot to the touch. You struggled to keep your lower lip from shaking at the sheer thoughtfulness of it. “That’s really sweet, Suna. Thank you.”

“It’s probably not nearly as good as yours, but…” his voice trailed off. He scratched at the back of his head, the blush deepening on his face. “I tried to do what you showed me the other night.”

“Do you wanna have some with me?” you asked, but you were already taking down two bowls from the shelf above your desk and pouring out a serving for each of you, before putting the rest in your mini fridge. You ate a spoonful, eyes closing as you savored the taste. “Mmm, this is really good, Sunarin!” you smiled at him.

“It’s not bad,” he said, grinning a little bit.

“It’s really good for your first try!” you pressed on. “You know, if you want more practice, you can cook for me anytime.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’d be a pretty sweet deal for you. But what would I get out of it?”

“Duh, you’d get to spend more time with me.”

“Oh, then pass.”

“Suna!” You pretended to pout, earning a genuine laugh from him. It felt good to joke around with him again, after not being in contact with him at all over the winter break.  

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” he asked when you had finished eating, setting his empty bowl on your desk. “Or were you just planning on sleeping for the rest of the day?”

You were a little taken aback at his question, since he had gone out of his way to avoid Atsumu and Osamu when they were sick. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch whatever I have?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If I was gonna catch it, I would have caught it from Thing 1 and Thing 2 already.” His expression faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“No, I do!” you said, a little too quickly in your eagerness to not let this chance slip through your fingers. “I just don’t want to get you sick, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine.” Suna rolled his eyes, smiling. “You wanna watch a movie? I’ll let you choose, since you’re sick.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” you teased as you carried your laptop over to your bed. You sat down, propped up against the pillows, and shifted to the side so Suna could sit next to you. “Can we watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’?”

“Sure.”

“I feel like you’d kin Miranda Priestly.”

“I will leave this room, right now,” he threatened, beginning to stand up.

“No, no! I was only joking!” you laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. He rubbed at his face, but you could see his slight smile hidden behind his hand.

The movie was almost over before Suna realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. When he first felt your head lean against him, the pounding of his heart had prevented him from daring to look at your face, but after several of his comments had gone ignored, he finally peered down at you, surprised to see your eyes closed. When the credits rolled, he had intended to get up and let you rest, but when he tried to move, your body shifted to turn towards him, an arm reaching out to wrap around his torso.

“Rin,” you murmured in your sleep, and the sound of your voice saying his name caused all of his resolve to disappear.

With you sleeping so peacefully, your warm body pressed up against his, Suna couldn’t bring himself to risk accidentally waking you up. The sun had already set, making your room dark and cozy, and so he figured he could wait there for a little bit until you woke up from your nap. Lifting one of his arms to put it around your shoulders, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the window. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His movements prompted you to wake up, your gaze slowly focusing to find yourself leaning on his chest like a pillow.

“Guess we were both more tired than we thought,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Mmph,” you mumbled, noticing a damp spot on his shirt from where you had drooled on him. God, how embarrassing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, shifting to look down at you.

“A little better,” you said. Sitting up properly, you rubbed at your face, attempting to hide your blush from him. “Sorry that I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling a little before his face shifted into a more teasing expression. “Did you know that you mumble in your sleep?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands even more. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

“Please don’t make fun of me this early in the morning.”

Suna pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Ugh… I’ve got class at 9:45. I gotta go home to shower and get ready before then.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. You lowered your hands from your face just in time to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach as his shirt lifted up; the sight of it made your cheeks burn anew, your head turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice you staring.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/n,” he said, putting on his coat.

“Thanks again for coming over,” you said, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

He grinned a little sheepishly as he made his way to the door. “Well, ya know… you gotta do things for the people you care about.”  

 --

 Stepping out into the brisk early springtime air, you spotted a familiar head of dark hair a few yards in front of you.

“Hey, Sunarin!” you called out, waving at him when he turned around. He stopped walking to allow you to catch up with him. “Are you done with class for the day?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got practice.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

He didn’t respond, but the slight shrug of his shoulders as he took off again told you that he wasn’t bothered by your company. You walked side by side, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally, each brief contact setting off butterflies in your stomach. If it had any effect on Suna, he didn’t let it show.

“Have you thought about what classes you’re gonna take next semester?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said. “Why, you gonna start stalking me?” he added, lips quirking up into a grin.

“Just making conversation,” you grumbled, turning your face so he wouldn’t see your blush.

“Y/n!”

You looked up in the direction the voice came from to see a guy from one of your classes making his way over to you. You greeted him politely, and he launched into a conversation about the latest paper you had been assigned, falling into step beside you.

“Are you doing anything now? You wanna go get dinner with me?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, I can’t, actually,” you told him. “I have plans with a friend tonight.”

His face fell a little, but he quickly bounced back. “That’s alright, some other time maybe.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what you’re doing for spring break yet?”

“I’m not really sure, I’ll probably just stay on campus,” you said.

“Oh, me too!” he said, grinning at you. “Maybe we could get together then.”

You had reached a branch in the path, and he turned right to continue towards the dining hall.

“See ya around!” he said with a wave.

You waved back, noticing that Suna’s eyes lingered on the other guy’s back as he walked away.

“That dude likes you,” he said in a deadpan voice.

“Huh?”

“He was trying to ask you out, dumbass.”

“What? No he wasn’t. I don’t think he’d do that in front of you.”

“Well, if he asks you again you should say yes.” Suna was smirking at you, but his voice was devoid of any emotion.

His words pricked at your heart, making your chest feel tight. The idea of him encouraging you to go out with someone else was a little upsetting. You turned your head away from him.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said absentmindedly. In truth, you had no interest in going out with that other guy, but Suna’s comment had left you unsure of what to say.

His brows creased a bit. Turning back to look at him, you saw that his gaze was significantly colder than it had been before. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could.

“I’m gonna be late for practice,” he said flatly, walking off quickly and leaving you to stand alone on the path.

 --

 After that day, things between you and Suna were different. He was suddenly making himself even more scarce than usual, and during the few times when you managed to see him, he was quieter than before. You couldn’t think of what would make him act so coldly towards you, and the possible explanations you came up with in your mind only made you feel worse.

You were waiting outside the gym one evening for Atsumu and Suna to get out of practice. When you saw them walking out the door you went over to greet them, handing over the bag of pork buns you had picked up at the convenience store.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Atsumu said, gratefully accepting the food you offered him; Suna, however, stepped away before you could pass it to him.

“Sorry, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically before turning from you.

“We were planning on playing Smash later, are you gonna be around?” you asked.

“Probably not,” was all he said, waving one hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

Stung, you turned to Atsumu. “Suna’s been avoiding me, right? I haven’t been imagining that?”

Mouth full of pork bun, he shook his head. Swallowing thickly, he said, “Nope, he’s definitely been MIA lately. I don’t know why, though.” Seeing the way you bit your lower lip in worry, he was quick to speak again. “I’m sure it’s got nothin’ to do with you! Sunarin’s probably just busy.”

“Do you think he’s seeing someone?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Nah, if he was I’d know about it. He’s never brought anyone back to the house.” He crammed half a pork bun into his mouth, struggling to chew it. “Honestly, he might just be a little homesick.”

“What?” It was hard to imagine someone like Suna being homesick; considering he spent so much time on his own, you didn’t think of him as the type of person to miss anyone.

“I mean, he told me he’s goin’ home for spring break to spend time with his sister,” Atsumu explained. “He must really miss her.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the news. A part of you had hoped that Suna’s avoidance of you actually was due to his busy schedule, and you had been looking forward to your spring break as the perfect opportunity to get some quality time with him. The fact that he wasn’t going to be there confirmed your doubts, proving, in your mind at least, that he really didn’t want to be around you anymore.

“You got any more of these?” Atsumu’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

“Yeah, here,” you said, giving him the bag of pork buns intended for Suna.

He continued chattering the whole walk back to the house, but you hardly processed a word. You were too busy wondering about what you could have possibly done to make Suna no longer want to be your friend.

--

 It had been several weeks since you had spent any time with Suna, aside from the brief moments when you saw each other at the house when you were visiting the twins, but he always gave an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang around. You knew he was a private person, but his sudden avoidance of you hurt twice as much after he had seemed to be getting more comfortable around you. Several times you had texted him to ask if he wanted to get food with you or watch a movie together, but he either claimed he was too busy with classes, or ignored you altogether. Eventually, you gave up trying to contact him.

But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you did see him in person. You found yourself living for the moments when you would be sitting in the living room with Osamu or Atsumu, and Suna would come downstairs, giving you a quick nod before rushing out the door; or when you would be hanging out in Osamu’s room and Suna would walk down the hallway, locking eyes with you for half a second before going into his own room and shutting the door behind him. Each time you hoped he would stop and actually say something to you, and each time you were left disappointed.

So it came as a surprise when, one day when you and Osamu were in his kitchen making onigiri together, Suna came downstairs and actually lingered for a bit, even after spotting you. Not wanting to scare him off, you bit your tongue as he sat on the counter, watching you form the rice balls with your hands.

“Those look good,” he said; you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or Osamu.

“Here,” Osamu said, putting some on a plate and passing it to his friend. “You headin’ out soon?”

Suna nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yeah, I’ve gotta meet with my advisor.”

“We’re going out to eat later, you should come. You haven’t hung out with us in a while.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been kinda flakey lately,” he said, his tone apologetic.

You couldn’t help yourself. Looking him in the eye, you spoke. “We’ve missed you, Rintarou. It’s not as fun without you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” Osamu muttered, but you hardly heard him. For the first time in weeks, Suna was looking directly at you, his gaze almost soft.

“Can’t imagine how rough it must be for you to have to spend time with these two goons,” he said, grinning.

“I’m standing right here, man,” Osamu said, his voice sounding only slightly annoyed.

You laughed, and to your amazement Suna returned it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hopeful that this awkward tension between you two was finally over.

“Text me when you guys are leaving, okay?” he said, hopping down off the counter and making for the front door. “I’ll meet you there.”

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off your face even after he left. The thought of spending time with him again was almost too much for you.

“I wish you guys would just fuckin’ kiss already,” Osamu griped, his hands still deftly forming perfectly-shaped onigiri.

“Huh?!” you spluttered, nearly choking as his words sank in. “Who?”

“You and Sunarin, you clown. Do ya have any idea how painful it’s been watchin’ you two idiots for the past few months? Jesus, even ’Tsumu noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“That you guys like each other!”

“I don’t—wha—,” you fumbled over your words, not entirely sure what to say. “Suna doesn’t like me!”

“Uh huh, yeah, okay. Y/n, the man made you a whole-ass pot of soup when you were sick. I’ve known him for years and he won’t even let me borrow his phone charger.”

“If he likes me, then why has he spent the last two months completely ignoring me?”

“Because Rintarou has the emotional intelligence of a fuckin’ cantaloupe.” Osamu finally turned to look at you, his hands resting on his hips. “Look, he’s never actually liked someone before—not for real, anyway—so I don’t think he knows what to do about you. He’s never gonna fess up and tell you how he feels, so his next best option is to just avoid you entirely. But he’s been missing you, real bad. I can tell.”

“So I’m supposed to be the one to tell him?”

Osamu smirked at you. “So you actually like him?”

You paused for a moment, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I like him.”

It was the first time you had admitted it even to yourself. A wave of relief immediately washed over you, as if you had been holding onto a secret that you no longer had to hide.

Ignoring the blush you felt creeping onto your face, you forced yourself to look at your friend.

“But isn’t that weird for you? I mean, we’re your best friends, would you really be okay with it if we started dating?”

Osamu glanced up as he thought about it, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “It’d be a little weird at first, but I’d get used to it. But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” He looked back down at you. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“’Samu,” you wailed, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

“So, you gonna tell him or what?”

“I don’t know… what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”

“He definitely does.”

“Well, maybe it’s just not a good idea for us to date… I mean, neither of us has ever been in a real relationship before, what if we just crash and burn?”

Osamu took in another deep breath, looking as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. “Look, you know I’m not a sappy guy, and I feel gross even saying this, but honestly, you and Rintarou are two of the most compatible people I’ve ever met. Even I can see how cute you guys are together. You’d be stupid not to date him.”

“Seriously, ’Samu, you’re actually gonna make me cry.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning back to make more onigiri. “Just hurry up and confess already, I miss hangin’ out with my friends.”

 --

 You waited until Atsumu and Osamu were out of the house; that way, if things didn’t go well, you could quietly slip away to collect your dignity without having to answer any questions from them first.

You stood in Suna’s doorway, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you steeled yourself for what you were about to do. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones on, looking at something on his laptop, but when you knocked on the door frame he glanced up, noticing you for the first time.  

“Hey, Rintarou,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Can we talk?”

He took his headphones off and shut his laptop, setting it to the side and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped into his room and sat down next to him. He was looking at you intently, a small crease between his brows. You glanced down at your lap, fingers twisting nervously, before looking at his face again. If you weren’t honest with him now, you never would be.

“I like you,” you said bluntly, “more than just a friend.” Suna’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continued, really struggling now to hold his gaze. “I just… I had to tell you. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, that’s not what I want. Your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want to lose that, so even if you don’t—”

“Y/n.”

Your words caught in your throat, afraid of what he was about to say.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was impossibly soft, the question sounding so delicate as it fell past his lips.

You could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment. You nodded your head. “Yes.”    

Suna’s hand reached up to cup your cheek before he leaned in, agonizingly slowly, to press his mouth to yours. His lips were so soft, his touch incredibly gentle. Placing both hands on the back of his neck, you melted into him, sighing as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you in closer. You could feel him grinning against your lips just before he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I like you, too,” he said softly.

Returning his smile, you leaned in to fit your mouth to his again, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, to have him kiss you so tenderly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him.

“Rin, I have to go,” you whispered against his lips.

“What?” His expression was puzzled as you abruptly stood up.

“I have class in ten minutes,” you explained, making your way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and then dip?”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning. “Yup.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the smile was still on his face even as you left.

 --

 The first few weeks after you and Suna started dating passed by in a blur. The heartache you had felt when he kept his distance from you had been replaced by a constant feeling of joy at the knowledge that you were together now. You still got butterflies every time you saw him, your heart melting each time you pressed a kiss into his cheek and saw a blush creep onto his face.

The only complaint you had was that after three weeks, you and Suna still hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, but there was always something that prevented you from actually succeeding: he was too exhausted after finishing volleyball practice; you both had term papers to work on; someone on your floor burnt popcorn in the microwave, setting off the fire alarm. The closest you two came to doing anything was one night when you thought you had the house to yourselves. You and Suna were making out on his bed, and he was just about to take off your shirt when Atsumu suddenly burst into the room to ask if they were all out of laundry detergent. He had quickly left, smirking, after realizing what he was interrupting, but you were too embarrassed to continue after he closed the door.

At this point, it had been over a year since you last had sex, and you were starting to go a little crazy. You were pretty sure Suna knew it, too, based on the smirks he gave you when he happened to catch the way you would stare at him periodically. After the length of time it took for you two to finally admit your feelings for each other, it was incredibly frustrating that the universe seemed to be keeping you apart again.

The end of the semester rolled around, and the twins decided to throw another big party before finals week. You managed to convince Suna to not hide in his room the entire time, and to your amazement he seemed to be having a good time, laughing in the corner with some friends from the volleyball team.

You were sitting on the couch next to Osamu, slowly sipping the beer in your hand. He was talking to you about your plans for the summer, but you couldn’t stop your attention from drifting over to your boyfriend every once in a while, grinning at him each time you happened to catch his eye.

“Our parents are renting that beach house for two weeks in July, you wanna come with us again?” Osamu asked, drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, a little distracted.

“Your boyfriend can come, too, of course,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to hide your blushing face by downing the rest of your drink.

“Bet you’re gonna miss him, yeah? Three months is a long time to be apart from your lover.”

“I swear to god, ’Samu, if you don’t shut the fuck up…” you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at your friend’s teasing.

Osamu’s attention was stolen then by someone asking him to go do shots, so you got up and walked to the kitchen by yourself to throw out your empty beer bottle. After you tossed it in the bin, you felt warm hands encircle your waist and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

“It’s getting kinda crowded down here, you wanna go upstairs?” Suna’s warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in his arms. Turning around to face him, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him by the hand and leading the way to the stairs.

Closing his bedroom door muffled the sounds of the party, and you were able to breathe easier now that you were alone with him. Suna scrolled through his phone briefly before finding the playlist he was searching for, setting his phone down once the music started playing.

“Hey,” you said, grinning as you recognized the song, “this is the same playlist that you put on the night we met.”

He took a few steps towards you, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in close. “I know,” he said simply before leaning down to kiss you. You allowed him to deepen it, lips parting for his tongue, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

Without breaking away, Suna guided you to his bed, gently laying you down and crawling on top of you, his knee coming up to press between your legs. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him grin against you. Breathing hard, you pulled his shirt over his head, leaning back so that you could look at him. You had known he was fit from all the times your body had been pressed against his, but seeing his muscular form with your own eyes was different. You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal growing between your thighs.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Y/n,” he whispered, leaning down to press kisses into your neck.

“I know,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” He pulled your shirt off of you, warm hands burning into your skin. “Do you know what I’m gonna do next?” he teased in a low voice, mouth moving down over your collarbones as his hands came up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples through your bra.

“Rin,” you whined when he pulled down the fabric to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand coming to rest between your thighs, groaning against your skin when he felt the wetness seeping through your shorts.

“Yeah, baby?” He was kissing a line down your stomach, goosebumps rising in his wake. He tugged off your shorts and panties together as you sat up to unhook your bra, tossing it onto the floor without taking your eyes off his face. Your hands immediately moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them as you planted sloppy kisses across his chest. He wriggled out of them and threw them to the side, before wrapping a hand around each of your legs and spreading them apart. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, lips gliding over the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, baby. I know how badly you want this.”

You whimpered, fingers running through his hair and gripping tightly. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver again. A loud moan escaped you when he finally pressed his tongue against your pussy, running slowly over your folds and circling around your clit before moving back down. He repeated the motion, making your breath come out in short pants as your fingers tangled themselves further in his hair.

“God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned against you. His hands pressed down on your hipbones, pinning you in place as you started trembling around him, small whimpers leaving your mouth the closer you came to your release. You drew your legs up, the heel of one of your feet resting on his back as your spine arched, pressing into his mouth.

“Fuck, Rin, I’m so close,” you gasped out. He hummed, hands reaching up to trace his fingertips along your sides. You started moving your hips and he stilled, holding his tongue out for you to grind against. Within seconds you were cumming, legs shaking and nails digging almost painfully into his scalp. He kept his mouth open to allow you to ride out your high, gaze trained on your face.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, moving to plant a row of kisses up your throat and over your jaw. “So fucking cute.” His lips fitted against yours as he grinded into you, the friction against your clit making you gasp.

“Rin,” you whispered, pulling away to look in his eyes, “lie down.”

He rolled off of you, reaching out with both hands to pull you on top of him. You kissed him once, teasingly, before sitting up and gazing down at him. With one finger, you traced a line from his throat down over his chest and stomach, coming to rest where the skin dipped down between his hipbones, smiling to yourself at the way he shivered from your touch. Hooking your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, you gently tugged them off of him, watching the way his thick cock sprang out to slap against his abs. Heart pounding excitedly, you dragged your nails over the top of his thigh, pleased when his muscles tensed beneath you.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he groaned, fingers digging into your arm. “I’ve had to wait so long for this.”

You would have been content to make him wait even longer, wanting to hear him begging you to touch him, but the pleading look in his eyes softened your resolve. “I know,” you purred, leaning down to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, grinning to yourself when you heard his sharp inhale. You swirled your tongue around the tip, letting your spit run down his length, before wrapping your lips around his cock.

Soft moans and pants reached your ears as you slowly took all of him into your mouth. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat you paused, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch of your jaw. You slid your tongue along his cock as you hummed lightly, eliciting a loud groan from him. Your hand came to grip his cock as you started bobbing your head up and down, moving in tandem with your mouth. Suna tilted his head to watch you, his chest rising and falling heavily. Keeping your eyes on his face, your mouth left his cock with a wet pop and moved down to suck on his balls, your hand continuing to jerk him off.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. His fingers entwined themselves in your hair, gripping firmly, but you had reached the limit of your patience. You crawled back on top of him, thighs planted on either side of his hips, and used your hand to drag his cock along the folds of your cunt.

“I wanna feel you, Rin,” you said breathlessly as his hands gripped your hips. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Pressing his tip into you, you slowly sank down onto him, loving the way his mouth fell open as you took him completely inside you. The stretch made you gasp, head falling forward to rest against the crook of his neck. You kissed the skin just below his ear as you started grinding your hips against him, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The sensation on your clit made you moan into his skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered.

“Feels good,” you whimpered, your pace quickening. “S-so good.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight…”

The knot in your stomach was rapidly tightening. A few more motions were all it took for you to be cumming again; you pressed your lips against Suna’s, tongue reaching into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

When your hips stilled, he lifted you off of him and flipped you over onto your back, nipping at the skin of your neck as he repositioned himself between your legs. With a groan, he sank into you again, hips snapping against you urgently. Your body already felt worn out, but the sensation of him fucking you so deeply had you clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you. He lifted your trembling legs onto his shoulders, the new angle of his cock thrusting into you making you cry out.

“Is that your spot, baby?” he crooned, repeatedly hitting the place that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there, Rin, p-please don’t stop!” you babbled. One of your hands reached out to grab his and bring it to your neck, eyes pleading with him.

His fingers tightened around your throat. “Fuck, you look so cute taking my cock like that. You gonna cum again, pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”

His grip on your throat was making you lightheaded, the friction against your clit sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body. The spot his cock was hitting inside your pussy had you hurtling towards the edge again, eyes rolling back as you incoherently begged him not to stop.

“Rin, I-I’m cumming—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you practically sobbed as your pussy clenched around him again. He released his hold on your throat, moving his hand up to lift your jaw and kiss you deeply, relishing when you moaned into his mouth. Your lips parted and he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, continuing to pound into you as you came. His breath stuttered as his thrusts grew more erratic, his face flushed as his cock throbbed inside you, hot cum filling your cunt.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, slower than before. He pulled out and laid down beside you, breathing hard. You reached up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, fingers running over his cheekbones.

“Why did we wait so long to do this,” you asked, making him laugh.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” he said with a grin.

You exhaled happily, moving closer to him and nestling your head against his chest. His arm reached out to wrap around you and press his palm into your spine to pull you closer. He was warm, but your uncovered body shivered against the chill in the air, goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Here, cutie,” he said, shifting so that he could pull the comforter over you. “Comfy?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss into his collarbone.

With Rin’s arm around you and his steady heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more content than you had in a long time.

 --

 You woke up before Suna. He had moved in his sleep, now lying on his back with one arm outstretched underneath your head. You watched him for a moment, smiling at the calm expression on his face, before climbing out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. Putting on your panties and one of Suna’s oversized t-shirts, you slipped out the door to walk to the bathroom down the hall.

Osamu and Atsumu’s doors were still closed, a fact that you were grateful for when you reached the bathroom and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, your neck littered with little love bites, damning indicators of what you had been up to the night before. Splashing your face with water, you tried to scrub off the smeared remnants of yesterday’s makeup. Satisfied when you no longer looked like you spent the night in a club, you crept back into your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey,” Suna mumbled when you stepped back through the doorway, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you shut the door.

“Take those clothes off and come back to bed.”

You giggled, shrugging out of your clothes and stepping towards his outstretched arms. He pulled you into a tight embrace, peppering your face with kisses. He settled you down on your side next to him, pulling your thigh up to rest on his hip.

“Rin!” you squealed when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“I just wanna be inside you, baby,” he murmured. His touch had already made you wet, allowing his cock to slide into you easily. You sighed as his hips pressed up against yours.

His lips met with yours, his kiss achingly sweet. “I don’t ever want you to leave this bed,” he breathed out. You smiled against his lips, fingers running through his soft hair. He shifted his hips then, and the sensation was too much for you.

“O-oh,” you whimpered as your pussy tightened around him.

“Are you cumming?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up into a grin.

“Sh-shut up.”

He didn’t say anything else, simply tightening his arms around you and kissing you again. The two of you lay like that for a while, slipping into a peaceful state of half-sleep, until the sound of a distant door being flung open pulled you back.

“Fuck,” Suna mumbled under his breath. Not a second later, a loud knock sounded from the other side of his door.

“Sunariiiiin,” Atsumu’s voiced whined from the hallway. “Are you guys up yet?”

“Is that door locked?” Suna whispered to you. Commending yourself for your earlier foresight, you nodded. “Good.”

“Suna! Y/n!” He pounded on the door. “I know you guys can hear me, come on!”

“I gotta get my own place,” Suna grumbled, his eyes still closed. You giggled, and when the knocking on the door stopped you snuggled in closer to him, ready to go back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, reaching out to grab it from the nightstand. “What do you want, Atsumu?”

“Aha! I knew you were awake!” He sounded very pleased with himself for succeeding in getting you to talk to him. “Can you make me pancakes?”

There was a pause as his question sank in. Holding your phone to your head and staring at Suna, you pulled away from him and sat up, eliciting a low groan from him. “You want me to make you pancakes?” you repeated in an incredulous voice. Suna cracked open his eyes, his face scrunching up as he heard Atsumu’s request.

“Yeah!”

“Get Osamu to do it.”

“He doesn’t make them as good as you!”

You could practically hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh. “Give me a minute.”

“Thankyouthankyouthanky—” You ended the call before he finished. Climbing out of bed, you pulled on your clothes again.

“Are you actually gonna do it?” Suna asked.

“He’s just gonna keep harassing us until I do it anyway,” you said. “Besides, it’s almost ten o’clock, we might as well get up.”

Suna rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Grinning, you tossed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt at him.

Atsumu looked way too happy when you finally appeared downstairs. He and Osamu were sitting at the kitchen counter together; they nudged a steaming mug towards you when you walked in.

“We made you coffee,” he said, his grin wide across his face.

“Uh huh,” you grumbled.

“Where’s mine?” Suna asked as he trailed in behind you.

“Make your own, dick,” Osamu told him, smirking as he sipped his own drink.

Suna rolled his eyes, going to pour himself a cup from the coffeemaker.

Trying to hide your laughter from him, you gathered up the ingredients and set to work. When all the pancakes were done cooking you passed half of them across the counter to the twins.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, closing his eyes as he took a bite. “So good.”

“I gotta teach you how to make these yourself, ’Tsumu,” you said, taking a bite of your own breakfast.

“Yeah, that way you clowns can let us sleep in for once,” Suna added.

“Don’t pretend, Y/n,” Atsumu said, “you know you love seeing my cute little face first thing in the morning.”

“I prefer seeing ’Samu’s, actually,” you teased. Osamu stuck his tongue out at his twin, laughing at his crumpled expression.

When you all finished eating, Atsumu and Osamu jumped up to wash the dishes for you. Holding your mug of coffee with both hands, you leaned into Suna’s side.

Looking over his shoulder at you two, Osamu grinned. “So, how was your night?”

“Fine,” you said in a casual tone.

“And that’s all you’re gonna get out of us,” Suna finished.

Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “As if I’d want any details.”

“My night was great, thanks for asking,” Atsumu chimed in.

“Yeah? Was that before or after you puked in the backyard?”

“’Samu!”

You couldn’t help the relaxed smile that found its way onto your face, happy to get to listen to them teasing each other like always. With one hand resting on the counter, Suna’s other reached around your waist to tug you closer, fitting your body against his. Standing there laughing with your friends, with his arm around you, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

--

➣epilogue

--

➣masterlist

[oswinsdolma]

Yes, it's nearly 2.00am (because that's apparently the only time I have inspiration to write essays) but I've been thinking a lot about this lately and wanted to get it off my chest, so here you go:

The main goal of Merlin becomes disturbingly fractured along the way, which opens up the gaps for the prophecy to seep through instead of following the expected channels, but it can essentially be boiled down to three key elements 1) build albion; 2) decriminalise magic and 3) save Arthur, but when all is said and done, we never really see any of those objectives achieved.

Now, there are a few reasons for this, both from a writing perspective and a plot perspective. The first, and one of the most obvious, is that this show loves irony. I won't go into a lot of detail here because I've already written a whole ass essay in this very subject, but in a nutshell, you can look at this from two perspectives: firstly, it's important to establish that this technique is purely about the angst: it's the writers' way of provoking a reaction from an anguished audience, but it's foreshadowed just enough to make it more painful than it is shocking. Alternatively, there is the more plot motivated irony in that it genuinely makes a good story. Irony is a technique that has been used for thousands of years, not just because it provokes a reaction from the audience, but because it allows you to explore your characters in greater detail than before, riddling them with hidden juxtapositions and internal conflicts that are never resolved quite in the way you expect. The irony in Merlin is the epitome of this, with the whole motif of Arthur needing to die for his reign to begin. It is a classic example of the simultaneous despair and hope that mocks you from the shadows.

Following this, there is another force at play that deals with half truths and seemingly imperfect contradictions, and that's prophecy. It's not really a secret that I have very strong feelings about prophecy and its effects on all the characters, Merlin in particular, and the fact that fate and destiny are such key themes in Merlin both makes perfect sense and wants me to smash my head into a brick wall. Prophecies are another common trope that often go hand in hand with irony (think Oedipus Rex, Macbeth, The Iliad, all that doomed hero shit that I inexplicably adore), the key to their influence over the plot often lying in how they usually come true in the most unexpected of ways. This links back to that initial theme of irony, but this isn't what makes me angry: what is infuriating is that prophecies tend to come true, no matter what, and most of the characters seem not only to know this, but to let it take their autonomy over their respective fates, driving them to disaster.

Let me elaborate: especially in season five (I'm assuming just for the added fall at the end), Merlin talks a lot about how "one day, things will be different". He tells sorcerers that one day they won't have to hide. That one day, they won't have to live in fear of who they are and what others think of them. And Merlin is right: while it is not explicitly stated, it's generally established that this is one of the things Merlin should actively be working towards. But here's the kick: except for a few specific circumstances, when has Merlin ever actively tried to change Arthur's mind about magic? Yes, he has taken a few opportunities, like with Dragoon saving Uther's life, or with the Dolma's final request, where he has encouraged Arthur to rethink his choices, but otherwise, his support has been lukewarm at best. Instead, his primary concern was always saving Arthur, so he can become the king the magical world hoped he'd be, but he left out a crucial part, trusting in the prophecy to fill in the gaps. He knew it would come true, but it was, almost predictably, in the one way he never dared to expect.

And in a twisted way, there's that thread of irony again: Merlin thought he was saving Arthur so he could one day become the king who would see magic as a force for good, but instead, he created someone who was merely a survivor. It was Kilgharrah who said it first, and he who would mention it last: they are two sides of the same coin. But as willing as Merlin was to give his life for Arthur, and vice versa, he was never really ready to give him his mind.

Another interesting thing to note is Merlin's fixation on the "Saving Arthur" lens of the prophecy over the "Restoring Magic" part. Now, there are a ton of ways you can look at this, depending on how far along the scale of Queer Analysis you are, so I'm going to try and address a couple. At one end of the scale, you have the fairly simple and very believable "merthur" take. This basically boils down to the fact that Merlin and Arthur may or may not be deeply in love with one another, and that drowns out any voice of reason that may unfold. This is actually fairly canon compliant, particularly looking at incidents such as the Disir, when Merlin chooses Arthur over his and his people's freedom, though that choice was clearly, in hindsight, misadvised.

At the other end of the spectrum, there is the idea that it is the work of Kilgharrah, Gaius and other responsible figures in Merlin's life when he was new to his role in destiny, who reiterated at every occasion that Arthur must be protected at all costs. This may have ingrained into Merlin's thoughts and influenced his decisions from here on out.

Between those two points, there is a grey area, and I am of the personal opinion that neither extreme entirely satisfies the situation. For me, I think the characters in question are far too complex to have such simple motivations, and that the true reason lies somewhere between the two: Merlin undoubtedly cares for Arthur, and while at the start, his actions in protacting Arthur may have been driven by other (largely superficial) motives, over time, their mutual affection blossomed to the point where certainly the more personal quests were motivated not by need, but by love. However, there is a divide here, and while the line in the sand smudges from time to time, it never really disappears: a lot of instances in which Merlin is trying to help Arthur are entirely overshadowed by destiny, and in time, Merlin comes to accept that Arthur and Destiny are, in fact, one and the same, and this is where that ever-present tragedy lies. For all he truth in here, Merlin doesn't get everything quite right: he sees Arthur as a balance that needs to be protected, without fully realising that he doesn't just have to keep the sides of his equation in equilibrium, but he actually has to start solving them if he wants them to endure.

Having just said all that, sometimes I decide to fuck over complexity for a few hours purely because I am a shameless merthur hoe.

Also, can you take a moment to please note that this last section is highly subjective and it is completely up to you as to what you decide!! This is just my opinion and you're welcome to agree or disagree at any point.

So, aside from the Angst Factor™ and twisted character development, why was the main goal never fulfilled? Unfortunately, that is a question far cleverer people than me can only speculate, as the writers alone know the answers, but I'm going to give my opinion a shot. Honestly, there is something beautifullly poetic about something that never ends, or ends when there could be something more. Humanity has struggled with endings-and beginnings- since it learned truly how to think, because that kind of finality, that inkling that there might have been nothing before and after something else is incomprehensible. In leaving Merlin in a place where the next point was uncertain, the writers left the story open for us. In depriving us of that catharsis, they effectively made sure that the story would never be over, not until we want it to be. And yes, it was painful. I can't think of an ending that was more heartbreaking than that curious mixture of closures and openings all at the same time (hell, I could write a whole essay based on this concept alone!), but it was also a gift, ironically like that of the prophecy itself in that we can choose what we want to do with it, safe in the knowledge that there will be a happy ending again, one day.

In summary, we might not be left with catharsis in the way we wanted. We might not have got the happy ending that could also have stretched on and on indefinitely. But we were left with something else, something equally beautiful as closure, but in the complete opposite way. Amongst the remains of allwe had hoped to build, Merlin left us hope.

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[nimedhel09]

Other Fairy Tail headcanons noone asked for

Yes, I have more. Again, be prepared for the longest post, but also for probably some Frenchisms and inaccurate English.

- Human-hating-and-eating dragons existed long before the war, but they were few, as human meat wasn't that good for most draconic tastebuds... Most of the dragons preferred to just ignore humans, as they were seen as lesser beings by a big part of the dragon population.

- Dragonof and Montes Secreta are a rare show of dragon-human symbiosis. The dragons protect the territory from invading forces, be they human, dragon or otherwise, and the humans take care of the dragons and feed them.

- Dragons and dragon slayers hoard. What exactly depends on each individual's interests.

-> Natsu likes to hoard stuff that makes him think of his friends... or that belonged to his friends before he hoarded them.

-> Gajeel hoards metal (because food), comfy stuff (mostly cushions, pillows and sheets) and he began hoarding books when he began to form a friendship with Levy.

-> Erza, of course, hoards her armor and weapons. She has a very difficult time parting from any of her belongings, which is why she always over-prepares for quests. The slayers and herself realize the origin of her "problem" when her parentage is discovered.

-> Rogue collects frog stuff. He had a passion for frogs as a child (seems like a headcanon I share with @pencilofawesomeness hehe) that never really went away. So each time he goes on a quest and sees anything ressembling a frog? He buys it. Frosch has many maaaaany frog onesies, in all the colours imaginable, as they also share Rogue's love for frogs, but her favourite is the pink one (yes, in my head, Frosch is a girl).

-> Sting hoards jewellry and gems. He loves the colours and the sparkliness.

-> Laxus collects music. He does not realize he hoards it until he hears the other slayers talking about their hoards and realizes he has a lot of vinyls in his house.

-> Erik/Cobra hoards miscellaneous stuff that catches his eye for longer than 5 seconds. Usually, it's small and he got in the habit of hiding everything in places he marks to find later, since he never had the stability of having a nest/cave/territory that belongs to him until after he was pardonned with the rest of Crime Sorcière.

-> Wendy hoards tea sets. She loves them, she loves to look at them, and each time she can find one that calls to her, she'll buy it and add it to her hoard. She also has a special tea set for visitors. It is the only tea set that people other than her and Charle/Carla can use or touch. Noone outside of the slayers, exceeds and Levy know that.

- The god and demon slayers also have biological modifications to get closer to the creatures they have the ability to "slay". Gray has little horns that his hair hides, he has night vision, which makes his eyes reflective in the dark (something that has freaked out a few guild members and people he had to fight against) and his teeth are very SHARP, although they're smaller than dragon slayer fangs and narrower.

- Juvia has had a very stern talking to by Cana, Mira and Erza about her harassing of Gray. Gajeel was not happy to see her so despondent afterwards, but when she explained what happened, he gently told her that it was something she needed to hear, because her behaviour was not OK. She still struggles with obsessive behaviour, low self-esteem and anxiety, but she gets help from Mest.

- Gray and Juvia have a talk when Juvia realizes that she does not want to be that person, and they finally get to have a healthy friendship. No romance, though, as Juvia finally grows out of her unhealthy obsession with Gray and realizes that's not what love is supposed to be.

- As a coping mechanism for... everything, Juvia bakes. A LOT. And she offers her confections to everyone in the guild. You know she is having a bad time if she brings a lot of pastries, and if it lasts for more than a day, it's very bad. Mira and Gajeel have developed a system without meaning to when that happens. Mira works on getting Juvia to cheer up and Gajeel gets her to open up to him.

- Mest never turned Brandish against August. Nuh-uh. No sir, he definitely did NOT. Also no pedophilic thoughts about Wendy. He finds her warm and adorable and he loves her as a little sister, thank you very much. He was also head over heels about Lahar and it took years to get over his death. He is understandably very weary of falling in love. He also develops a crush for Macbeth/Midnight after Crime Sorcière was legalized and the members came to mingle with Fairy Tail more often.

- Most of the members of the younger generation, at least, are not heterosexual (because sexuality is a freaking continuum, people). I might expand on this at a later date if anyone is interested.

- Jellal and Erza have a very serious talk and both work on their Tower induced trauma for years before they decide they might want to try a romantic relationship. Jellal is the one that has the most difficulty healing from the past and seeing Erza as a person instead of his saviour/deliverance/light and stops putting her on a pedestal.

- Erik talks to Kinana about Cubellios and how he thinks she might be his lifelong friend. Since Kinana has bad amnesia, she asks Mest to help her retrieve her memories, and, although everything is still quite hazy, she remembers her attachment to Erik. They slowly work through her memories, but Erik is very respectful and does not push Kinana into anything, he just wants to know her, and, maybe, if that could happen, his friend back. They end up slowly falling in love.

- Juvia is like a little sister to Gajeel. He is very protective of her, and she is the only reason he joined Fairy Tail. They stay close through the years, and Juvia ends up being the godmother of Gajeel's and Levy's children. Juvia is understably over the moon and spoils the heck out of her nephew and niece.

- The original appearance of most of the Celestial spirits is quite different than what it is nowadays. Leo/Loke's original appearance is closer to his Eclipse Celestial Spirits ark than his current one. He is a fighting spirit, after all.

- As there are 88 (accepted) constellations in the sky, there are 88 keys. The silver and gold ones are the most known, but there is another set: the platinum keys. Those keys are as powerful as the gold keys, but not much is known about them.

- Since opening a key gate demands so much magic power, celestial wizards have slowly decreased in numbers. Celestial magic is coming closer to becoming a lost magic every year. It does not help that Celestial wizards are so often used by dark guilds as sacrifices for dark intents.

- Many civilians think that, because there are "light" guilds and "dark" guilds, some magic powers are considered dark and light too. Which, in turn, makes them afraid of any kinds of magic that is not in the accepted definitions of "light". That's one of the reasons why Freed, Mirajane and Bickslow hated their born magic for so long. It took them years or even decades to stop the self-hate, with the help of their friends and family.

- Since the awakening of his etherious nature, Natsu has been terrified of losing control. Which made him train harder and subtly distance himself from the guild. Of course, the other slayers, Erza, Gray and Lisanna saw right through him and Lisanna confronted him about it and he spilled the beans.

- NaLi is a thing. They're very cute together. Natsu is not interested by sex (yep, he's asexual), but he loves the proximity with Lisanna so sometimes they do have sexy time, but not often at all.

- Mira is a big gossip, and she does the shipping thing, and she does try to imagine ship-kids, but when someone tells her they're uncomfortable/they don't want kids or she sees that she makes them so, she stops and apologizes and never does it again. Because Mirajane is a respectful friend that does not push her friends and family to follow patriarcal societal rules, thank you very much.

- Gray inherited his devil slayer magic genetically. So he was born with it. But it was dormant or sealed until Silver awakened it (it makes more sense that way, in my mind).

- Fairies did exist, but they are extinct in Earthland. They do still survive in another dimension with other elf-like beings (because I said so and because I like the idea of a Sidh in-universe, because travelling to parallel universes is a thing, so there!)

- Talking about that, there's a difference between parallel universes (Edolas) and dimensions (the place where Angel's "angels" dwell). A parallel universe is a different kind of world on the same "wavelength" as the one Fairy Tail exists, and a different dimension is in the same universe, BUT on a different level (you know, the 2D, 3D and so on, and so forth). But because I do not want to go full-on-nerd-mode-that-will-never-stop-talking-about-the-thing, I'll stop here.

- Minerva and Rogue are a couple and you cannot tell me otherwise.

- Talking about the saberkitties, that guild desperately needed to heal after Jiemma. It took them a lot of work to get to a level where everyone began to trust in their guildmates and the guild itself. Minerva is the one that had the hardest time, as she was the daughter of the abusive jerk and his favoured and longest victim.

- She also had the hardest time after Tartaros, because it took months for her to have a human body again. Sting, Rogue, Orga and Rufus were there every step of the way for her. She loves them with all her shriveled little dark heart.

- She stays a badass with some violent and cruel tendencies, but she's mostly awkward, nowadays. She feels most comfortable with Rufus and Rogue because they're calm and quiet. She also adore Frosch.

- It took Yukino months to decide that she might possibly want to rejoin a guild. She goes to Sabertooth to confront her bad treatment and the trauma from her excommunication and has the longest talk with Sting, although she sees that he's far from his cocky, rambunctious, confident self (because Tartaros + losing his dad + Minvera stuff going on). They have a heart to heart and Sting apologizes profusely about how he acted until the Eclipse gate thing. She accepts his apology, but still hesitates to rejoing the guild. Noone pushes her, but Sting asks her to at least stay around for a few days so that the other guild members can see her. She does, and gets apologies from everyone. However, she does not see Minerva, and since she was one of the biggest offenders when it came to bullying in the guild, she really wanted to confront her, but the situation is explained to her. Yukino rejoins the guild after a few weeks of hard thinking, and patiently waits for her very needed conversation with Minerva, although she does not push for it when she knows that things must definitely not be easy for the spatial mage.

- Orga is half Fioran and half Encan. That's why he weats the clothes he does, and has the tatoos. The facial paint he has during the GMG is because of a warrior tradition from Enca. He goes to visit his maternal family at least once a year. Although noone outside of his friend circle (which was noone during Jiemma's tenure) knows of that tidbit about his background.

- Freed, Rufus and Lucy are all from high society, but they never mingled or even talked. Freed's father was very strict and rarely allowed him to go to parties because he was never good enough, and then when his magic realized itself, he was too ashamed of the creature that was his son to even consider it. Rufus, on the other hand, was too young, but he saw Lucy from afar. He just never talked to her. Freed only knew of Lucy's name, but Lucy wasn't aware of him at all, because she would do anything to not do a good impression.

- Talking about Lucy, she is very sensitive to any kinds of comments about her physical appearance due to a childhood with the pressure of having to look like a perfect breedable doll, due to her father's expectations and just high society. Because she was seen more as an asset than a human being. And even though she rebelled about all the expectations, she internalized them still. She still struggles about it.

- Another thing she struggles with is: independance and freedom. Two things she never really had until she decided to flee her home. That's one of the reasons she kind of lets Natsu drag her on adventures too, because making decisions for her life and having the responsibility of her own destiny freaks her out and gives her major anxiety. She even had panick attacks about those.

- Lisanna had a very hard time getting used to Edolas, but also getting used to being back to Earthland. Her siblings and close friends (aka Natsu and Happy)? Even more so. Lots of angst and not believing it to be true and stuff. Also, she had quite a bit of difficulty reconnecting her Earthland friendships. She tended to see the guild as their Edolas versions for a while. But now everything's fine.

- The Raijinshuu bonded over their eye magic and their respect for Laxus, because he was the one to help them and make them join the guild.

- Laxus, under his not-approachable, cocky veneer, is just a very awkward sweetheart that has no idea how to interact with humans outside his three friends. He exudes big introvert energy and you cannot tell me otherwise.

- After the war, Laxus is lost. He does not know what to do without his grandpa. But the guild has to go on, so he tries to hide his grief and buries himself in work, because there is a lot to do. Of course his team sees it and with a lot of coaxing, he does properly mourn Makarov. He also goes to Porlyusica to talk about him and get help with his lungs (because there's scar tissue caused by the bane particles still there).

- For weeks on end, Erza and Laxus talk about who should be the next master, even though Laxus does not even want to take on the role anymore. And because no consensus is reached with just them, they decide to have a guild poll and let everyone choose their favoured candidates (could even be someone else, they do not care). In the end, poor Laxus still ends with the responsibility, and when he discovers all the paperwork his grandfather left, he nearly has a breakdown. Fortunately, Freed comes to the rescue, and when she hears about it, Lucy also helps. Lucy gets closer to the Raijinshuu and the new master that way and Freed, Laxus and her talk at length about their childhood, expectations and the verbal abuse they had to live through.

- When he discovers the amount of money that team Natsu makes the guild lose every single mission, and the destructiveness of most of the guild members, he decides to change that with the help of other guilds. The new Council, hearing this, jumps on the opportunity to try and get the guilds more involved because they do not want to keep on dealing with Fairy Tail nonesense. They have better things to do.

- Hisui gets more involved in the politics of the country and tries her best to make relations better with their neighbours Bosco and Seven. Since Bosco was hit the worst by the forces of Alvarez, she also organizes humanitarian missions that she sends to all the guilds in Fiore. Getting missions from the crown is a never seen before occurrence, but she thinks that it's a cause important enough to get involved. Her project pays, as relations with Bosco thrive after that.

- This also makes the population more curious about the other countries of Ishgar, as Fiore has always been mostly self-sufficent and autocratic.

- The Raijinshuu + Laxus (also, I hate that Laxus isn't officially part of the team and they're just his followers, come ooooon!) is actually the strongest team of the guild, but since they're not official, well... it's not official. Even without Laxus, the team is very efficient and rarely destructive. They have the advantage of all the members being quick thinkers and all of them are quite strategic, and if Freed tells them to do something, they do it without question. And even though Laxus is very powerful, he is also very analytic when he goes on missions, and even in fights. (Yes, I have a bone to pick with team Natsu when it comes with how they operate. Also, that particular way they work? Well, makes Lucy and Wendy not blend with them very well)

Ok, I think that's it for today. I might add to my list of headcanons, because I have MANY (too many to count).

Here's a little list of things I'd like to tackle at one point or another:

- where all the (time travelling) dragonslayers originated from and how they came into the care of their dragons

- Fairy Tail ships, sexualities and the why (aka, why I think nearly none of the characters are straight)

- Acnologia's backstory, but done in a way that does not make him one-dimensional, because the King of dragons deserves it, thank you very much

- Why I dislike the characterization of the cast, and what would have worked better from a narrative point of view (from my point of view as a reader, writer, someone who LOVES character development, but also maybe a bit someone who's actually studied literature in Uni)

- Maybe also ways for the magic system to actually have consequences? Because in the canon material, we've got nearly nothing for the main cast and I am annoyed.

- And probably some more worldbuilding, because you know I LOVE me some worldbuilding. I also think way too much about stuff, so yay?

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader Part 6

A/N: Part 6 is here lovelies! And I hope you all are doing well! 💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warnings: language

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

That night you had went to bed early, only to awaken at the crack of dawn the next morning. Today was the day of your performance. You layed there in bed beneath the sheets for a moment with your hands resting on your stomach, staring at the ceiling and pondering on yesterday’s events. Your anxiety had almost cost you your identity, and you did not want that to happen again.

You got out of bed, adjusting your eyes to the dark room and slowly placed your weight on the wooden floor, being careful not to wake Charlotte. You slipped out of your nightgown and into a simple light cotton dress, not even bothering to put on a corset or stockings. You tied a leather belt around your waist before reaching under your pillow to grab your Colt revolver, putting it in your holster. You might need it in case any threatening situation arised. You threw on your lightweight overcoat and left it unbuttoned before lacing up your boots and grabbing your wicker basket, you threw in your Wuthering heights copy and some apples for a light snack.

You carefully opened the door, taking one last look at Charlotte’s sleeping figure before closing it behind you. You exited the inn and glanced around outside, breathing in the cool morning air and relieved to see that no one was up and about yet. You walked a mile out in search of an isolated area with shady trees until you stumbled upon a meadow filled with bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes. Your eyes lit up at the sight of it and a smile appeared on your face. It was beautiful. The way the flowers spread across the field with the few scattered trees and the morning sun’s rays just barely peeking out over the horizon. It looked like a painting. You eyed the closest tree that stood by itself and made a little jog towards it, your free hair flowing behind you as you ran your fingers along the grass and the flowers. This moment right here reminded you of the very few fortunate days you had as a child when your mother would take you out on a picnic to the english countryside because your father was away on urgent matters. It was a chance to escape the cold stone walls of the castle while he was away. You missed running through the meadows while she chased you around, both of you giggling from delight, free from your father’s tyrannical presence.

When you met your destination, you put your basket down by the tree and took off your boots before plopping down on the grass, taking out your book and reading it as you held it above you. You layed there for a while, your hair splayed out behind you and the skirt of your dress hitched up to your knees, lost in your book, the soft grass, the sweet scent of the flowers, and the cool morning breeze. You’d occasionally stick your bare feet out above the grass, stretching out your legs and toes.

Half an hour of peacefulness had passed by until you heard the sound of hooves in the distance. Your senses became heightened as you sat up, whipping your head around to see a horse in the distance coming in your direction. The rider was hidden from view from where you were crouched down, making you nervous as you backed up against the tree, your hand gripping your colt in case this was some sort of attack. The horse came to a sudden stop before you and turned, allowing you to finally see the rider. It was the same gentleman from yesterday.

“You.” You narrowed your eyes at him while standing up with a balled fist. You were still gripping your pistol and had half a mind to not just hit him with it right there.

“Ma’am.” He tilted his hat at you, his face darkened by the shade his hat provided.

“You’ve damn near ran me over. You know that?”

Bloody plonker.

“Well you look fine to me.”

“And if you had gone a few inces closer I wouldn’t have been fine.” You huffed out, your breathing affected by the thrill of getting nearly trampled over or murdered by a bandit. You didn’t know which was worse.

The man let out a chuckle, shaking his head before eyeing your hand that still clutched the grip of your pistol. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

“And what? I’m supposed to magically believe you?” You scoffed.

“Well you’re welcome to shoot me if I do something to offend you.”

You stood there for a second, making yourself look as if you were contemplating the thought. “Does that include verbal offenses?”

He chuckled again at your remark, dismounting his horse and tying the reins up. “You’ve got quite the attitude on you, you know that? You come from a dishonest place or something?”

You watched him wearily, lowing your guard down. “Dishonest is one way to put it. More like a dodgy hell hole if you ask me.” You thought about all the times you had to fend for yourself against the worst scum of men and even women in the past, especially in the Middle Ages. Only difference was you wielded a sword then instead of a revolver. If there was one thing you had to thank your father for, it was for raising you like a son and teaching you the art of war and the sword. “What are the likes of you doing about here anyways?”

“Well, what’s a lady like you doin round these parts all by yourself at this time of day?” He looked at you.

It was then you had just remembered you weren’t wearing a corset which meant. Shite. Your Belisha Beacons were cage-free. You let in a sharp intake of air and quickly buttoned up your jacket before he’d notice, covering up your chest to add an extra layer to your cotton dress. You were silently praying the wind wouldn’t blow up your skirt and reveal your short drawers and your lack of petticoats and stockings or else you might as well shoot yourself from embarrassment. You almost cursed yourself for a lack of proper dressing and daring to go out like this. But, he just had to show up didn’t he.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You looked up at him, finally noticing his features and my goodness. You didn’t want to admit it but he nearly took your breath away. You found yourself staring at him. That golden blonde hair that looked soft to the touch, the tanned skin, that face, and my goodness those green eyes. You quickly changed your expression into a stern one as he looked at you. You hoped he didn’t catch you staring at him like some toad at a fly. Him being pretty means nothing.

“Neither did you.” He remarks.

“Well I believe I was the one to ask a question first. Now go on, explain yourself.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You’re not following me are you?”

“No ma’am. Just doing my patrol. Now, what are you doing out here?”

“............reading. As if it’s any of your business.” You lifted your chin before turning away and sitting down with your back against the tree, adjusting your skirt to cover your legs.

“Out here by yourself?”

“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes.

You sat there and glanced up at him still standing there like some kind of meerkat. “Well? Are you just going to stand there and watch the grass grow or are you going to have a seat? It’s not like you’re going to leave me be anytime soon.”

“Is there anywhere you specifically want me to sit, princess?”

You raised a brow at the nickname, wanting to smack that smug look right off his mug.“Whichever pleases you.” You wave your hand about before muttering to yourself. “Bloody fucking hell.”

The man smirked before taking his hat off, sitting down beside you and leaning against the big tree as well. You side glanced at him before scooting away just an inch. He chuckled at your little movement, shaking his head as he rested his arm on his bent knee, fiddling with a strand of grass in his hand.

There was a bit of silence between you two. Your eyes roamed everywhere else but him while his would occasionally glance in your direction. This situation was awkward for you.

“What’s your name soldier?” You asked him as you pulled your basket closer to you and pulled out your gloves, putting them on for precaution. You could feel him watching you with curiosity as you did so.

“Jasper Whitlock ma’am.” He bowed his head to you.

“How long have you been a major?”

“You know my rank?” He quirked his brow at you.

“Well you are wearing a uniform with insignia aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure.”

Jasper sat there with his brows furrowed as he studied your face before popping a question. “You seem to know a lot. You’re always reading. You some kind of genius?”

“Well.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t quite call myself a genius. Though I have met many in the past. Very interesting individuals I must say. What on earth bothered you to ask a question such as that?”

“I don’t know.” He stared at you. “Your eyes.”

You looked at him gobsmacked before letting out a confused laugh. “My eyes?”

“Well.” Jasper tried to explain himself, feeling embarrassed while straightening up a bit. “When I was younger my ma used to tell me how you could read people’s eyes. How some held wisdom behind them.”

You nodded your head with approval, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Your mother sounds like a wise woman. Though, it completely baffles me that you a ninny like you would be her son.”

“Ninny?” He cocked his head back from the word. “Is that some kind of insult?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.” You gave a short smile before reaching into your basket to grab an apple, holding it out for him.

Jasper studied the apple in your hand before looking up at your blank expression, his brow raised playfully in suspicion. “That’s not poisoned is it?”

“.............maybe.”

“Well that’s not a very encouraging answer.”

“If I wanted you dead you’d already be.”

“Well my apologies Lady Macbeth. I guess I’ll take your word for it. If anything happens-“

“Don’t worry. No one will know.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Jasper chuckled at your strange sense of humor before taking the apple from your gloved hands.

His fingers lingered there on your palm for a brief moment. And even though you were wearing your gloves, you couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. A part of you wondered what it would feel like if you weren’t wearing your gloves, just your bare hand against his. You stared into his eyes and a blush started to creep on your cheeks before you pulled your hand hastily away, turning your head away from him. You were in complete shambles.

“I’m sorry.” Jasper gave you a pained look as you had your back to him. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No. You’re quite alright.” You composed yourself before pulling out your pocket watch from your coat pocket, glancing at the time. “Shite. In fact, it’s my fault. I should get going. I have a performance later and I do not want to be wasting your time and mine.”

“Wasting my time?” Jasper sat up once he saw you hurriedly packing your things. “Ma’am, I assure you, you weren’t wasting my time. I enjoyed your company.”

“Well you shouldn’t.” You stood up with your basket as Jasper followed you right after. “I’m sure you have far more important matters to attend to, Major. Good day.”

You turned to walk away only to have Jasper at your heel, making you close your eyes in frustration.

“Wait! At least let me take you safely back to town.”

“No thank you. I managed to get here on my own and I am more than possitive I can make my way back.” You gave him a polite smile before going your way, not even bothering to look back.

Jasper stood there by the tree next to his horse, his heartstrings being pulled at as he watched you disappear from sight. He didn’t know why you reacted in such a harsh way, especially when you seemed to have eased up a bit around him. But he wanted to understand, more than anything.

You marched on back to the inn, wiping away at the lone tear that dare to fall from the corner of your eye. You were upset, filled with distress and fueled with anger for yourself. You had promised yourself not to give in to such feelings and yet here you were. Conversing with a dashing gentleman whom you have found to be tolerable and risking everything being at a close proximity with him. You knew more than anyone the dangers of becoming close with a mortal. You knew more than anyone, what would happen if you were to merely touch a person with your bare hand. You knew more than anyone, that the most simple form of affection, a touch of a hand, a caress on the cheek, a kiss, could never be possible for you.

Tag List: @smileygirl08 @peachyevergreen @Lustdere @moonlights27 @krazykatkay456 @buckysjuicyplums @oi-itsemily @ahahanofanks @iberandom @bittergomez @holyhumorliteraturelight @bells3333 @ashdab2611 @toomanybandstocare @lilithknight1111 @cricketlicket @5sosfanforever2001 @justine-en @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @shakespeareanbooty @pancake-pages @elisemurphy06 @ineffabledears @bella-stenbakken @seraphpheonix @trickylittlewitch @twilightrox @hobodolly @big-galaxy-chaos @mega-ultra-so-awesome-it-hurts @mikariell95 @decaffeinated--fangirl @lovestomanyfandoms @fairyunhappy @chaoticsimptown @hanster1998 @coricosplays @secretpickleprofessordean @itsbqueenthings @theweasleythatgotintoslytherin @corpseism @yourlocalelf @eternallysleepyteen @thecrazytealady @marvel-kpop-twilight @leeleehale

[the-irken-pony]

Hi I wrote a self-indulgent copperright fanfic based on a daydream

I totally didn’t learn the rules of poker just so I could write this fic what are you talking about

Quick summary: (Takes place during Terrence Suave’s time) Four Toppats opt for an afternoon of poker, but the group notices their friend acting unusual after a brief conversation with the chief’s right hand man.

Word count: 1998

Warnings: Gambling

“Alright, Macbeth, how much are ya putting in?” Gordon Smith smirked, fanning himself with the playing cards in his hand. “Unless you’re doing the wise thing and dropping out now.”

Mr. Macbeth huffed, skimming over his current stash of bills. “Hold yer horses, I’m tryna think.”

The man directly across from Macbeth grunted. “Let ‘im take ‘is time. He wouldn’t wanna drop out if he didn’t ‘ave to.” He gave a quick glance down at his hand; luck had favored him enough to grant him a straight flush, one of the best possible hands. “Could afford to think a little faster, though.”

Mr. Macbeth growled. “Alright, alright, fine.” Macbeth downed the rest of his soda and pushed forward half of his current earnings. “$600.”

“You sure about that?” Sledge MacRush raised his eyebrows. “When did you get so bold?”

“When y’all decided that rushin’ me was a better idea than just waitin’. Six hundred, final answer.

“Hm. Very well then. I’ll match you up on that. What about you, Smith?”

Smith chuckled sheepishly. “Aw man. I’m gonna have to drop out on this one. Promised Charlotte I wouldn’t bet more than $500 at a time.”

“What!? Come on, mate, you shoulda said somethin’ sooner!”

“Haha, yeah, I guess…”

“Well, after this round we can establish a limit.” Sledge gave him a sympathetic smile. “That leaves you, Red. You droppin’ out, too?”

“Nah, might as well stay. $600 for me as well.”

Of course, Red wasn’t actually the man’s name. People only called him that because of his naturally orange facial hair. People called “Red” all sorts of things, since he never gave his name out to anyone, not even close friends. He had to admit that he was hoping to have gotten a more consistent nickname by now, much like other Toppats. Even so, constantly changing nicknames was still better than telling someone his real name.

“So then, everyone else has bet already, eh? Alright, then, reveal your hands… now!”

Everyone around the table booth (except for poor Smith) laid their hands out on the table. Seeing the straight flush that the mustached man had laid out on the table, Sledge and Macbeth groaned as the nameless man chuckled.

“Maybe don’t put in half your cash next time,” he sneered.

Sledge huffed. “Remind me why we invite you to these things again?”

“Because you wouldn’t admit defeat if it left you stranded on an island with no way off.”

Sledge glared at the ginger from across the table as Smith let out a small chuckle.

“Touché.” He gathered up the cards and began to shuffle them. “Macbeth, you goin’ first this time?”

“Ahem. Excuse me.”

The group looked up from their game to see who had spoken. Standing next to the table booth was the chief’s new second in command, holding a clipboard and pen. He had only had his job for a week, but some Toppats were already calling him “the chief’s only good decision”. Admittedly, it was easy to see why just from a glance; he always stood in a very dignified manner, and every aspect of his appearance gave a sense of formality and professionalism--save for the bags under his eyes.

“Oi, Reginald, can it wait? We’re kinda in the middle of somethin’ ‘ere,” Sledge said as he continued to shuffle.

“Well, can you put it on hold? This is kind of important,” the right hand man replied, tapping his pen onto his clipboard.

Red shot Sledge a glare from across the table, prompting the latter to set down the deck of cards.

“Ignore him. Whatcha need, then?”

“What? Oh, right, right…” Reginald flipped through a couple of pages of his clipboard. “Mister Gordon Smith, the leader is sending you undercover tomorrow, and would like you to spend tonight preparing.”

“W-wait, tomorrow?” Smith stammered. “Why!?”

“Don’t ask me, I wouldn’t know,” Reginald yawned, rubbing his eyes. “He hasn’t given many details, he’s just said that he’s sent one other person already.”

“Why not pick someone else!?” Mr. Macbeth snapped. “It ain’t like everyone else’s busier than he is.”

“Easy, easy. I don’t mind doing it,” Smith assured him. Macbeth grumbled something under his breath as he crushed his empty soda can in his hand. Sledge crossed his arms and pouted. Seeing how tense the table was, Red cleared his throat to speak.

“So… one week into the job already, eh? How’sat been goin’ for ya?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that,” Reginald muttered, looking over his clipboard. The redhead sat in uncomfortable silence, trying to think of a good response.

“…Cool.”

“Anyways,” Reginald said, “that’s all I needed from you. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Alright, thank you,” Smith replied. The group watched as the man left the table while staring at his clipboard.

“Guess we’ll leave it up to you, Smith,” Sledge said. “Do you wanna keep goin’ or would ya rather get an early start on prep?”

“Well…”

As the others discussed Smith’s plans for the day, Red watched the chief’s right hand pour himself a cup of coffee, drink the whole cup in one gulp, and then pour himself a second cup before putting in additives.

He furrowed his brow. How little sleep was the man getting? Given the chief’s current track record, it did make sense--other elite members often said that Reginald was eager to please, after all, but it seemed that the whole clan rested on his shoulders. He had only gotten brief glimpses of the right hand man in the past, but when he did he was always by himself hunched over a series of papers.

Yet, despite everything, a mere glance at him would give no indication of a struggle. He kept himself so professional-looking and neat; he always wore a fancy suit, and his mustache was styled to curl upwards at the ends. And that wasn’t even mentioning his delicate yet dignified posture whenever he stood or talked to--

“Oi!”

Red felt a sharp flick against the back of his head, yanking him away from his thoughts. He turned and glared at the man responsible, rubbing the spot where Sledge had flicked him.

“Ya awake over there, Foggy Eyes? We’ve been talkin’ at ya for like a solid minute now!”

“Oh, uh, were you?” “Foggy Eyes” sheepishly cleared his throat. “What’s up, then?”

“We were discussin’ plans with Smith.” Macbeth nodded his head in Smith’s direction.

“I’m good with going for one more round, if everyone else still wants to,” Smith said.

“Oh. Well, deal me in, then.”

“Alright, nice!” Sledge picked up the deck and began to shuffle.

“So what were you staring at over there, anyway?” Smith asked, lifting his head up to see over him.

“What? I wasn’t starin’ at anything.”

“No, ya definitely were,” Sledge chuckled as he combined two partial decks of cards. “You kept starin’ in the same direction since that guy left.”

“I-I just… zoned out, is all.” The ginger was starting to get nervous. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

Macbeth squinted. “You’re actin’ awful strange…”

“Keep talkin’ and you ain’t gonna be actin’ anything,” Red snapped.

Next to him, Smith was deep in thought. “Sledge… say that last part again…?”

The ginger could feel himself getting warm. “W-wait, no, don’t--” 

“‘You kept starin’ in the same direction’?”

“Nono, after that.”

“Don’t--”

“‘Since that guy left’?”

“Yeah, heh. That.” Smith nudged the hunched up man sitting next to him. “That have anything to do with anything?”

“Uhhhh…” The man slightly lowered his hat to try and obscure his face, which was already turning noticeably red. Sledge snickered.

“Oh, I see what’s goin’ on here,” he said with a smirk. “You don’t happen to fancy the chief’s right hand man, do ya?”

“I-- O-of course not!” he sputtered. “I-I just-- M-Macbeth, c’mon, back me up here, will ya?”

“Man, you were red as a tomato ‘fore anyone even said anythin’.” Mr. Macbeth leaned back in his seat. “I couldn’t defend ya if I wanted to.”

“Shut up, I was not!”

“Come ooon, admit it already!” Smith gave the flustered Toppat a light shove. “It’s not like we haven’t already caught on.”

“I-I, um-- I--” He pulled his top hat down over his face, which had risen to an unbearable temperature by this point. “I-I don’t-- I dunno, I…” he mumbled, getting quieter with every word, “I-I guess he’s, uh… k-kind-- kinda… sorta… r-really… c-cute…”

Sledge burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh man, I knew ya had a thing for ‘im, but I didn’t know it was that bad!”

“I-it is not…” By this point, the man’s face had turned to a brighter shade of red than his mustache.

“Well, go on,” Smith urged. “Whaddya like about him?”

“Mmmmrrrmmmppphhh…”

Mr. Macbeth couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Gotta admit, never woulda ‘spected to see ya like this any day of the week.”

“Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup…”

Smith laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Well?”

“Ohhh my goood…” Red swallowed, trying desperately to compose himself. Knowing there was no way he was getting out of this, he forced himself to speak. “W-well, there’s, uh…” He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the right hand man’s various features. “Th-there’s his-- his mustache, I-I guess… and-and his voice…”

Remembering that he was with three other people, he cleared his throat.

“Alright, all of you, listen.” He glared at the three Toppats. “Word of this gets out to anyone, and I’ll blow all your heads off. Understood?”

“Alright, alright,” Sledge laughed. “Wasn’t plannin’ on tellin’ anyone anyway, lover boy.”

Red froze. “I-- L-lov--!?” There were at least one hundred different insults he wanted to retort back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a single word to come out.

“Aw, don’t take it too hard, man,” Smith said. “If it means anything, I’d say you’ve got a shot.”

“Would ya?”

Smith placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, sure. I bet you two’d be really cute together,” he sang while nudging the ginger, who buried his flushed face in his hands.

“Oh my god, I hate you so much…”

“Alright, you two, enough already,” Macbeth told them. “Y’all’re gonna kill ‘im at this rate.”

Smith giggled. “Okay, okay. Really though,” he told Red. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Take it from me--it took me years to ask Charlotte out on a date, and just last week we celebrated our second anniversary.”

The man smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Smith looked down at his watch and frowned. “Oh man, I completely lost track of time, I gotta get ready.”

Sledge rubbed the back of his head. “I suppose that’s gonna mean you’ll need your phone back, then?”

“Yes, Sledge.” Smith crossed his arms. “Yes it will.”

Macbeth rolled his eyes. “I really don’t understand why ya keep takin’ it from ‘im.”

“It gets better signal than mine…” Sledge replied, hunching his shoulders defensively.

“There are better phones than his, y’know,” Red snickered.

“I can get his easier,” Sledge huffed. “Whatever. I’ll come along just in case it got lost in my room somewhere.”

“Thanks.” Smith glared. He turned to Red. “Anyways, keep your chin up, mate.”

As the group gathered their earned cash and got up to leave, Red’s mind drifted back to the chief’s right hand man. Whenever he saw him during work hours, he was always by himself. He didn’t ever see him not working either. Did he not have anyone else to help him with the workload? Or even to talk to?

Maybe Smith was right. Even if they didn’t start going out, he at least deserved someone to talk to and help him manage his workload. There was no good reason for him to have to do it all alone.

“Ahem.”

The group turned to Mr. Macbeth, who was standing next to the table, which was covered in scattered playing cards.

“Any of ya gonna help me get these?”

The group exchanged glances with each other.

“Nah.”

[transientwordsmith]

Macbeth-Theatre Kid AU

This is my Macbeth fanfic. It is an American High School Theatrea Kid AU. Characters: Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Banquo, Malcolm, Macduff, Lady Macduff, Siward, Seyton. Word Count: ~4500

Macbeth walked into the first day of school with a sense of pride. His junior year. Almost the oldest in the school. His last year he didn’t have to worry about college. He was going to have such a good time this year.

But of course not without his best friend Banquo. Macbeth spotted him next to a vending machine.

“Banquo!” Macbeth called. “Banquo! Over here!” Macbeth ran over and clapped Banquo on the shoulder. “Good to see you,” he said.

“Macbeth it’s only been two weeks since I last saw you,” Banquo said.

“I know, but I miss you.” Macbeth hugged Banquo. Banquo chuckled.

“Always so dramatic…” he mused. Macbeth let go of Banquo.

“How else would I get the lead in the school play?” he asked. Banquo gave him a knowing smile and the two of them started inside.

The duo walked down the hall asking about the other’s summer, even though they knew full well that they had spent the better part of it together. Suddenly, a door to Macbeth’s right opened and a pretty blonde girl exited the room.

“Lady!” He greeted the girl. “Walk with us.”

And she did. Lady was Macbeth’s sister. She was somehow always surprised when he acted like they hadn’t seen each other in a million years, even if they had only seen each other last a few hours ago.

“Hello, you two,” Lady greeted Banquo and Macbeth rather impatiently. “Where are you going?”

“To see what show we’re putting on, duh!” Macbeth exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Banquo rolled his eyes.

“You know auditions aren’t even until the end of September…” he said.

There was a large bulletin board at the end of the hall. It was covered in posters, both new and old. The actual cork had so many holes one might mistake it for a sponge. But lo and behold, right in front was a rather large poster for the show “Guys and Dolls”. The poster read:

Guys and Dolls Auditions

September 28, 29, and 30

Make an appointment today!

sweird@dunsinane.edu

“Oh my god!” Macbeth yelled. “I love ‘Guys and Dolls’!”

“I know, me too,” Banquo said, not matching Macbeth’s enthusiasm. Lady side-eyed them both.

“If you like it so much, audition,” she said. Macbeth wouldn’t stop staring at the poster.

“I know I’m going to get Nathan Detroit! I just know it,” he said with confidence. Banquo nodded with a smile.

“Ms. Weird practically told you that you were going to get the part last June,” Banquo remembered. The three of them stared at the poster for just a bit longer before remembering that they had other classes, too.

…

The first day of school. As a junior, no less. Macduff had to admit, he was a bit excited. For school in general, but also for the school play. Last June, Ms. Weird, his best friend and stage manager, Malcolm and he had picked “Guys and Dolls” to perform this year.

What he wasn’t so excited about, however, was Macbeth. Macbeth was one of the most arrogant people Macduff had ever met. Macbeth thought the whole world should revolve around him and that everything should tailor to him. Sorry, kiddo, but the world just doesn’t work that way, Macduff thought.

Macduff walked into the Dunsinane Academy courtyard and caught Malcolm’s eye. Malcolm walked over to him.

“How was your summer?” Malcolm asked.

“Great, and yours?” Macduff deflected. His summer was horribly boring, to say the least.

“Oh, it was amazing. I went to this sleepaway camp that was a lot of fun. They have a Christmas program too for families. I think I’ll go.” Malcolm said.

“Don’t go for too long,” Macduff warned. “I don’t want to be alone with Macbeth while you’re gone.”

Malcolm’s happy demeanor quickly changed after Macbeth was brought up.

“Oh, right. I forgot how much you don’t like him,” he said.

It was truly a wonder how Malcolm could forget after Macduff had nearly been suspended last year for getting in a fistfight with Macbeth.

“It’s alright,” Macduff said. “I’ll be okay. Let’s get to class before we’re late.”

…

Late August turned into Early September turned into almost October. Leaves were falling off trees and some ambitious people began putting out Halloween decorations. Macbeth’s family was one of those families. They had lots of big, gaudy decorations. But there was something more important than the rapid arrival of Halloween: auditions.

Macbeth wanted to get his audition over with quickly so he could be cast, so he made his appointment for the 28th of September. Banquo’s wasn’t until the 29th.

He had prepared “Wait for it” from Hamilton as his audition piece. Ms. Weird had thrown a fit last time someone tried to audition with a pop song.

At Dunsinane, they were lucky enough to have a small black box theatre in which rehearsals and auditions could be held. Macbeth opened the door at exactly 3:24.

“Macbeth? Is that you?” Ms. Weird called from out of sight.

“‘Tis I!” Macbeth said in a loud voice. “The great Macbeth!” He ventured farther into the room and found Ms. Weird sitting behind a desk with her back to the door.

“Are you ready to begin?” She asked. “You have your song and scenes?”

Macbeth nodded. The audition commenced.

“So? How’d it go?” came Banquo’s voice over the phone.

“I think it went very well,” Macbeth said. “Ms. Weird practically told me I’d get the lead.”

“What did she say?”

“She said ‘Very well done, Macbeth. I should think that you will get a sizable role this year!’”

“That’s great!”

“I know!”

…

Macduff walked into Ms. Weird’s black box theatre. It was arguably one of his favorite rooms in the whole school.

“Hey, Ms. Weird,” Macduff greeted.

“Macduff! Wonderful timing. Malcolm and I were just going to get started on casting.” Ms. Weird indicated to her left, where Malcolm was sitting with a computer in his lap.

“Hold on, hold on,” Malcolm requested. “A few more minutes, please. I am no tech genius over here.”

“They’ve been recorded? I’ve always wanted permanent documentation of complete showoffs!” Macduff said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Once Malcolm had finally figured out how to work the video program, the three of them huddled around the laptop to watch the videos.

There was one that stood out to Macduff: A senior called Duncan Inverness. Macduff told Malcolm so, and Malcolm agreed.

“Ms. Weird? What do you think about Duncan?” Malcolm asked. Ms. Weird took a moment to consider him before giving her answer.

“He seems great! He’s a senior, right?” she asked. Macduff and Malcolm nodded in agreement. “Good. We can cast him as Nathan Detroit.”

…

The cast list went up on the morning of October 2nd. And that was the day Macbeth’s life was ruined.

GUYS AND DOLLS CAST LIST:

Nathan Detroit - Duncan Inverness

Miss Adelaide - Seyton

Sarah Brown - Lucy Duff

Sky Masterson - Donalbain Inverness

Nicely-Nicely Johnson - Macbeth

Macbeth didn’t read any further than that. He was utterly devastated. He wanted to scream and shout and break some things. How is this possible? Macbeth wondered. Ms. Weird practically told me I was going to get a lead! Nicely-Nicely Johnson? What kind of a role is that?

“Hey! I got Harry the Horse!” Banquo’s voice ripped Macbeth out of his thoughts. “And you got Nicely-Nicely Johnson! Awesome! I love his part in “Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat.” Macbeth stumbled past him, down the hall.

“I need to find Lady,” he mumbled, dazed.

Lady was outside, under a tree, completely oblivious to Macbeth’s devastation.

“Lady!” Macbeth called. “Lady!”

“What do you want,” Lady said, exasperated. She marked her book with her thumb and looked up and him expectantly.

“Lady, I got Nicely-Nicely Johnson,” Macbeth explained. Lady did not see what was wrong.

“That’s great!” She said. “Doesn’t he have a solo song?”

“That’s not the point!” Macbeth lamented. He collapsed on the ground next to Lady and buried his face in his hands.

“Dear God,” Lady swore. “If you want that lead, why don’t you do something about it. I mean, you said you’d do anything just last night, didn’t you?”

Macbeth looked up at her.

“I did say that, yes,” Macbeth agreed. Lady looked at him with a sly look. Macbeth returned it with a blank one. It was a few moments before he realized what she was implying. Then a crafty smile took over his features.

That night Macbeth sped through his homework even faster than usual. Then, he opened his computer and began to type furiously. Google, Facebook, Dunsinane Academy website, the city newspaper, anywhere Macbeth thought he could find dirt on Duncan. He was going to get that role no matter what it took.

…

Macduff saw Duncan walking in the opposite direction from him. He seemed to be going somewhere in a hurry.

“Hi, Duncan,” Macduff greeted. Duncan threw him a dirty look and sped past him. Macduff was confused--he got the lead part! What did he have to be upset at him about?

Macduff opened the door and stepped inside. There he saw Macbeth, with a smug look on his face. His friend Banquo stood next to him with a pained smile on his face.

“I’m so happy for you,” Banquo said, sounding insincere.

Macduff turned to see what the two boys were looking at. There he saw Ms. Weird erasing Duncan’s name on the whiteboard as Nathan Detroit, and rewriting Macbeth’s name.

No.

No.

No.

This cannot be happening.

Macduff tried to play it cool, and not freak out. He wanted to keep his position as set designer, after all.

“What’s going on?” he asked, even though he knew full well what was going on.

“Macbeth found some rather...unsavory information regarding Duncan,” Ms. Weird explained. “As a reward, I agreed to recast him. He was going to be our second choice, after all.”

Macduff had forgotten about that. He had only agreed to let Macbeth be the secret understudy because they had no one else who had enough talent to do it. Something felt wrong about this though…

“What did Duncan do that we had to cut him?” Macduff asked.

Macbeth looked even smugger than before (if that was even possible).

“I heard that he cheated on his Physics final last year. And, I figured that Ms. Weird would want to know,” he said. He pointed to a handwritten sign on the door that read “We support academic integrity in this classroom”. 

Macduff recalled when this sign was put up. It had been because a few actors had been cheating on their tests. The administration had asked Ms. Weird to cut them from the show. It hadn’t hurt the production much since those actors were in the ensemble, but since then academic integrity had been a very serious topic in Ms. Weird’s classroom.

“Duncan’s not the type…” Macduff mused.

“No, but he did,” Ms. Weird said seriously.

Macduff shook his head and sighed. He was sorry to see Duncan go. He looked up at Macbeth, to see if he showed any sign of remorse at all, but he was still smiling brightly, oblivious to the fact that he probably cost Duncan his theatrical future.

…

Despite his smug demeanor, Macbeth was terrified. Duncan had not actually cheated on his physics final last year. What really happened was that he took a practice test with notes. The test was not meant to be open book, so his teacher let it slide with a few docked points. All Macbeth had to do was fudge a few details and bing bang boom, Duncan was cut and Macbeth was now the lead.

Macduff seemed less than thrilled about this, but Macbeth wasn’t miffed. He knew that Macduff didn’t like him much anyway. 

Malcolm came in behind Macduff and pushed past him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Macduff asked him.

“I just saw Duncan throwing rocks and screaming outside,” Malcolm said. “What’s that all about?” Macduff thew Macbeth a cool look.

“I’ll let Macbeth explain,” he said.

Macbeth was getting sick of explaining this more than once. He wasn’t prepared to have to tell everyone who came in the door.

“Duncan violated the academic integrity rule so he was cut,” Macbeth said simply. Banquo nodded behind him.

Malcolm threw up his hands.

“Are you serious?” he shouted. “This can’t be true.” Malcolm stabbed an accusatory finger at Macbeth. He left in a huff, muttering to himself. Macduff put his bag down and ran after him.

“So, when’s the first rehearsal?” Macbeth asked.

…

Macduff sped down the hall after Malcolm.

“Malcolm! Hold on!” Macduff shouted. Malcolm kept speed walking until he found the room he was looking for. He threw the door open and slammed it behind him. Macduff followed him inside.

“Malcolm?” Macduff asked the room. The two of them were alone. All of the desks were stacked at the back of the classroom, the walls were barren, and the lights were off. The classroom appeared to be unused, but even so, it was open.

Macduff caught sight of Malcolm as he was throwing a script at the wall. He threw it with force and papers exploded everywhere. Malcolm covered his face with his hands.

“It was supposed to go well this year,” He all but sobbed.

“Hey,” Macduff said consolingly, setting aside his own anger for a moment. “It’ll be just fine, okay? We can fix it. We’ll figure it out.”

The two of them sat on the floor for a few minutes, not saying a word, before picking up the script, which was quite a few pages, and heading to the woodshop to begin working on the set.

…

Macduff and Malcolm didn’t come back that day. Banquo and Macbeth sat together while Macbeth highlighted all of his new lines. Banquo, who had been in the ensemble before, took on Macbeth’s previous role as Nicely-Nicely Johnson.

“I love his song,” Banquo had said.

“I know, Banquo,” Macbeth said.

When the final bell rang at the end of the day, Macbeth was anxious to find Lady. He had to confide his troubles in her.

“Lady,” he said. “Are you sure this was the right thing to do? I mean, Malcolm and Macduff are really upset. They’re probably going to bust me!”

“It’ll be fine, Macbeth. You’re going to seem suspicious. You got this far, just stay on the down-low.” Lady told him. Macbeth took a breath of confidence and stool taller than he had before. He put on a smile and escorted Lady out of the school.

Later that evening, Banquo called. This wasn’t uncommon, so Macbeth had no qualms about answering.

“Macbeth?” Banquo asked.

“What’s going on?” Macbeth replied.

“Macbeth, I feel like something fishy is going on,” Banquo confessed.

“Like what?” Macbeth was getting nervous.

“Like, in the show.”

“You mean how Nathan and Adelaide never get married? I know, it’s so weird.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“I mean...I don’t mean to say that you’re a liar or something...but Macduff was right, I think. Duncan isn’t the type to do something like that. It feels wrong to have ruined him like that. You know?”

Macbeth felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.

“No, I don’t know. I’ll see you tomorrow, Banquo,” he said coldly.

“Macbeth, wait-”

Macbeth ended the call.

…

That day after school Macduff went home with Malcolm. They had started planning out the set for the show that afternoon but could hardly focus, so they put it off until later.

Later is here.

Macduff scribbled an idea down in his notebook.

“I was thinking we could do something like this,” he showed Malcolm. “It could either be a drawing on plywood or a drop or something but I don’t think we should have any other drops.” Malcolm nodded.

“That looks cool. You can draw it on or something and then we can get some ensemble people to paint it. For techie points.” Malcolm said.

“Yeah,” Macduff agreed.

The design was a cartoonish New York skyline. Windows were yellow, the sky was navy with white stars, and each building had a long spire.

“Okay, what else?” Malcolm asked. Macduff consulted his notebook.

“Shop facades, The mission, something for Havana, a platform for the Hot Box, and so, so many other things.” Macduff said, burying his face in Malcolm’s bed.

“We can draw up some plans and delegate this stuff to the newbies. Ms. Weird will show them how to do it.” Malcolm told Macduff.

“Are you sure?” Macduff asked.

“Yes,” Malcolm said with determination. “Because while they’re doing that, we are going to sabotage Macbeth.”

…

Macbeth was enjoying his time at the top. He truly was. But it was not without this horrible guilt following him wherever he went. He was avoiding Banquo today--partially because Banquo was also avoiding him. But also…

There were a few people in Ms. Weird’s room when Macbeth got there. It was lunch hour, after all.

“Ms. Weird?” Macbeth asked with trepidation.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Ms. Weird acknowledged him. Macbeth could hardly bring himself to say the words. But he needed this assurance.

“I caught Banquo cheating on an important project last night.”

Ms. Weird looked down at the table and sighed before looking back up at Macbeth.

“Thank you for telling me, dear,” she said. She turned around and began editing the cast list on the whiteboard again.

“Macduff and Malcolm are going to have my head on a plate…” Macbeth could hear her muttering. Me too, Macbeth thought. He left quickly to find Lady. He figured she could give him some respite before he had to face Banquo.

But when has Macbeth ever been that lucky? As he was leaving, Banquo came through the front doors of the school building.

“Hey,” Macbeth tried. Banquo sped past him into Ms. Weird’s room. It was only a few moments before he came storming back out again. Banquo slammed his shoulder against Macbeth’s on his way back outside. Macbeth was alone in the hallway.

Macbeth found Lady sitting alone in a secluded corner of the school yard. When he sat down next to her, she startled.

“Are you okay?” Macbeth asked her.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Lady said very unconvincinly.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just don’t want to see certain people right now.”

“Oh, should I leave?”

“No.” Lady put her hand on Macbeth’s thigh. “You can stay.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Banquo got cut today,” Macbeth said.

“What? Why?” Lady demanded.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Macbeth regretted telling her anything.

“I swear to god, Macbeth, if this was your fault I’ll kill you. Duncan, already hates me because I’m your sister. Why don’t you keep adding people to his army, huh?” Lady berated him. Macbeth was at a loss. There was no way he could come out of this on top unless he let Lady take the fall. Which,

“You seem to be handling it pretty well,” Macbeth observed.

Lady slapped him in the face.

“I changed my mind. Go away.” 

Macbeth obeyed and left quickly. As he approached the school doors he saw Banquo leaving out of the corner of his eye. Macbeth decided to go back to Ms. Weird’s room.

Ms. Weird wasn’t there when Macbeth arrived. He decided to sit on the long table at the front of the room.

Macbeth noticed a magic 8 ball sitting near the white board. He decided to ask a few questions.

“Will I become rich and famous?” he asked.

Don’t count on it.

“Okay…” Macbeth was a bit disappointed. He decided to ask some more questions.

“Will Guys and Dolls be the best Dunsinane production yet?”

As I see it, yes.

“Sweet!” Then he remembered Macduff and Malcolm.

“What about Malcolm and Macduff?” He asked.

Concentrate and ask again.

Right, Macbeth thought. I can’t be vague.

“Will Malcolm and Macduff hinder my greatness?”

Better not tell you now.

“Fine, be like that.” Macbeth said and set the 8 ball down.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a girl walked in. Macbeth recognized her as Maduff’s younger sister.

“Is Ms. Weird here?” she asked Macbeth.

“No, sweetheart, she isn’t,” Macbeth said, an idea forming. He had a bad feeling about Macduff and Malcolm, and he knew exactly what to do about it.

…

Malcolm and Macduff sat down next to each other in their next class, their fingers intertwined. They both gave each other a look of knowing: this was their last respite before rehearsal today. It was not the first, but they were nowhere near their last. Malcolm and Macduff were not excited, to say the least.

After class, Macduff and Malcolm split up, albeit begrudgingly. Malcolm had to supervise the rehearsal and answer any stupid questions the actors undoubtably had, while Macduff was taking Siward and a few other freshmen to the woodshop to work on the set. One of those freshmen was supposed to be his sister, but she was not here.

“Has anyone seen my sister today?” Macduff asked the group. He was sure he saw her going to first period this morning but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

They all shook their heads no. Let me ask Malcolm if she’s in Ms. Weird’s room, Macduff thought. He took out his phone.

Macduff: hey is my sister near you

Malcolm: no why

Macduff: i cant find her

Malcolm: so why don't you text her

What a great idea. Why hadn’t Macduff thought of it before? Macduff opted to give her a call. It rang a few times before she picked up.

“Hello?” came a shaky voice.

“Hey,” Macduff greeted. “Where are you?” All Macduff could hear was the sound of ragged breathing for a few moments.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you when I get home. Oh, and by the way, don’t try to get me back while that group of jerk-wads are still there,” Macduff’s sister said through quiet sobs.

“What jerk-wads?” Macduff asked nobody, since the call had ended. Macduff knew everyone on the cast, and they were all so friendly and kind, except…

“I need to go,” Macduff told the freshmen. “You all can go home.”

…

Macbeth was running lines with Seyton when Macduff burst in. He had a determined glint in his eye. Malcolm walked up to him and they started chatting animatedly. Macbeth was having trouble focusing on the scene.

Macduff and Malcolm both looked back at Macbeth before leaving the room, leaving Macbeth with a sinking feeling.

Once he was sure Macduff and Malcolm wouldn’t come back, Macbeth grabbed the 8 ball again and shook it.

“Are Macduff and Malcolm plotting against me?” Macbeth asked it.

Outlook not so good.

This put Macbeth somewhat at ease. The rehearsal continued as usual. Afterward, Macbeth went home with no qualms about Malcolm and Macduff.

…

His first mistake, arguably. Macduff had seen Macbeth shaking the 8 ball through the little window in the door.

“What are you looking at?” Malcolm had asked.

“Macbeth is consulting an 8 ball,” Macduff had said, chuckling.

He and Malcolm came up with a plan to get Macbeth expelled from the theatre program: confront him. It was so simple they almost didn’t consider it.

“Really? Who’s gonna believe us? Who’s gonna prove him wrong?” Macduff had asked.

“Duncan, and Banquo. And your sister,” Malcolm had reassured him.

“And after this ordeal is all over?”

“We’ll restore people’s old roles. And continue as normal.”

They set the date for Friday. That meant they had Wednesday and Thursday to talk to Banquo and Duncan and to formulate some backup plans. They would not leave for Christmas break before this was set right.

…

Macbeth walked into school on Friday morning nervous. He had felt confident on Wednesday afternoon and on Thursday, but walking into school was giving him second thoughts. He saw Duncan and some of his friends hanging out together, side-eying Macbeth. Banquo eyed Macbeth from afar and Macduff’s sister had a strange glint in her eye.

On Thursday evening, Lady came down with a fever. Their parents wouldn’t let her come to school. Macbeth was alone and paranoid.

Macbeth walked from class to class trying to be as big and intimidating as possible, to hide his fear. He would not let these people, who were arguably lesser than him, know that he wanted to become as small and invisible as possible.

Dread could not even begin to describe what Macbeth felt when he approached Ms. Weird’s room that afternoon. He pushed open the door with immense trepidation. Seyton and Siward were chatting in the corner, but there was no one else there.

Macbeth snuck behind Ms. Weird’s desk and grabbed the magic 8 ball one last time.

“Will I perform in the show this winter?” Macbeth asked. A direct question has to work, he thought.

The 8 ball landed on the tip between two responses. Macbeth shook it again.

Ask again later.

At that moment, Malcolm pushed the door open, followed by Macduff, his sister, Banquo, Duncan, Ms. Weird, and Mr. Birnham, the principal.

“Hello, Macbeth. Nice to see you,” Macduff greeted Macbeth with a cool tone. Macbeth gave a small wave.

“Macbeth,” Mr. Birnham said. “Have a seat. Please.”

Macbeth sat and Macbeth listened. He listened as Mr. Birnham recounted what had happened in the last two weeks. Macbeth’s peers nodded along with Mr. Birnham and gave each other premature celebratory smiles.

“Now, you understand that you will not be able to participate in the Dunsinane Theatre Program anymore, yes?” Mr. Birnham asked.

“What?” Macbeth exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!”

“This is what you get for stepping on your friends,” Banquo said.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Macduff gave Banquo a high five.

Macbeth stood and walked toward the door. He took one last look at Ms. Weird’s classroom--which he would never see again--before leaving to go home. Macbeth just barely saw Ms. Weird editing the cast list on the whiteboard out of the corner of his eye.

…

The door closed quietly. The people in the room just stared at it for a moment. Then, Malcolm enveloped Macduff in a bone-crushing hug.

“Finally, we can get on with the show!” he exclaimed.

Someone started playing Green Day’s “Good Riddance”, and someone else put a box of cookies on Ms. Weird’s desk. The celebration was well under way.

It was a few days before Christmas vacation was supposed to begin. Dunsinane’s production of Guys and Dolls was about to close.

Malcolm stood in the wings. Macduff was in the booth. The actors were ready for the show to begin.

“Cue 1, stand by…” Malcolm said.

“Standing by…”Macduff responded.

The lights in the house went down.

“Cue 1, go.”

Macduff pressed the play button in the program. The music started.

“I’ve got the horse right here! His name is Paul Revere…” The actor began. This was going to be the best Dunsinane Production in a while.

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation 

Chapter III

Link to chapter I and chapter II

Link to AO3

-

By the time they were in seventh grade, she was obsessed with Shakespeare. 

Levi found it out one day towards the dusk when he was watching the sunset on the rooftop. There was a quiet chill in the air, only visible when a breeze swept past him occasionally and his body trembled instinctively. The sky was pastel pink, clouds were shadowy and reflected the soft colour of a day slowly coming to an end. The sun’s last rays enlightened the horizon and Hanji, gasping and sweaty, threw herself next to him, leaning on his shoulder for support.

“Did you bring it?” She asked, extending her hand towards him. She was acting like they were exchanging drugs, and he was the dramatic one of the two. How was that even fair? Without a word Levi put the chocolate milk and the sandwich, he had brought from home in her hand. 

She looked at him like she was going to cry. Good acting. “Oh, thank God for Levi Ackerman. I was starving.”

“You should stop wasting your money on books.”

“I am not wasting money, Levi. I am investing it.”

“What did you buy this time?”

She made a gesture with her hand to indicate ‘wait a minute’ as she quickly started to eat her sandwich and drank her milk. 

“Slow the fuck down,” he said, feeling a need to warn her when she patted her chest to ease the process of the food going down. Then she drank the milk furiously and squeezed it between her fingers until she sucked the last drop, and the inside of the cartoon packet was as dry as the Sahara Desert. 

After that, she sighed, content and happily rubbed her now full stomach. The sandwich was half-eaten though, she rewrapped it with the cling film and put it aside. Then she opened her bag, buried her hands inside, searching. “I found an old book shop today,” she said with a goofy grin on her face. “And bought these babies with the last money I had.” At that, she took out two books, worn, yellow and smelled ancient. 

Levi squinted his eyes as he took the books from her hand and read the titles. One was Macbeth and the other was Romeo and Juliet. 

“Cliché,” he commented.

“Shakespeare is not cliché, grumpy. He is a classic.”

She was apparently annoyed. It was so easy to work her up through her books. “I thought you had read them already?”

“I did but I read my dad’s copies and he won’t let me keep them on my shelf. So, I bought my own,” she grinned ear to ear. 

“Good for you,” he pushed the books on her hands, unimpressed. 

“I marked my favourite quotes while I was on my way here,” she tossed and replaced herself next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. “And I have a question for you.”

He didn’t have a chance to say no. “Shoot.”

“Are you a Macbeth like sky lover or a Juliet like sky lover?”

His face crumpled in confusion, and he blinked his eyes at her. Hanji was looking at him expectantly. She was actually waiting for an answer. Oh boy. He hadn’t understood shit. “Hanji you know I don’t understand your nerd shit without having you explain it to me.”

“Oh,” she said, extending the h. “Right, sorry. My bad. What I mean is…” She opened Macbeth, and searched the pages until she found the one she was looking for. “For example, in Act I Scene IV, Macbeth says, “Stars, hide your fires! / Let not light see my black and deep desires,” and,” she dropped it to open the other book. “In Act III Scene II, Juliet says “Take him and cut him out in little stars, / And he will make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with the night/”

She turned her gaze again on him afterwards, adjusting her glasses. “So?”

“Hanji, what the hell are you trying to do?”

She rolled her eyes and closed the book. “Levi, I am just saying that obviously these two quotes,” she quoted the air while saying, “although out of context, are more or less about the sky so pick one.”

“But they don’t even make sense!” he objected.  

“They don’t have to. It’s literature. If you take the lines of the context, you can use them however you like.”

“For example?” Levi pressed, still waiting for a reasonable enough explanation.

Hanji, like the nerd that she was, started to explain, “Macbeth is about revenge, ambition and remorse, at least superficially, and Romeo and Juliet is about love, old-grudges and misunderstandings, again superficially. But if you take the lines out of those concepts…” she shrugged. 

“I can use them however I like?” Levi said, trying to come to her point. 

“Exactly.” 

“Like I don’t have any “black and dark desires”, but I can choose Macbeth?”

Hanji nodded. 

“Because he talked about stars?”

She nodded again.

“But what do they have to do with loving the sky?” Levi asked, having been unable to make the connection. 

Hanji paused, her eyes moved upwards to the sky, considering his question. She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, nothing.” Then her gaze turned back at him. “But don’t look for logic, Levi. Just pick one.”

“I said Macbeth already. Leave me alone.”

“Uh, you said that seriously?” She tapped her chin. “Why him though?”

“No specific reason.” Levi looked away to the town, observed the intermittent, weak lights of the houses underneath. “Juliet sounded way too sappy.”

Hanji snorted, and about a minute later she went on, “Literature doesn’t always make sense,” she said. “It’s like eating cotton candy. I mean, do you think it makes sense?”

Levi raised a brow at her. “Yes?”

“But—” Hanji made a stupid hand gesture. “It melts the second it touches your tongue. It doesn’t make sense. But you enjoy eating it because it melts the second it touches your tongue.”

Levi blinked hollowly. “I am not following.”

“Wait,” she said, excitedly. “I’ll show you.”

Then she thrust one of the books into his hands, shuffled the pages and pointed with her finger to the lines she had clearly underlined with a pencil. “Read it aloud.”

Levi was feeling like he had given up on whatever will power he had as he observed the lines. He could feel Hanji’s curious, and expectant gaze burning the side of his face. There was no escape from this. 

He cleared his throat before starting. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player 

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.”

When he finished, he realized the goosebumps that crept upon his skin, the way the words flew out of his mouth as if they were notes from an old, forgotten ballad, and the way they melted on his tongue, slowly but deliciously like pink cotton candy—

“Damn,” he breathed.

“Right?” Hanji exclaimed excitedly. 

“I don’t know what the hell he is talking about,” he said honestly. Just like how he didn’t necessarily like cotton candy because it was too sweet yet, the pleasure while eating it every now and then was undeniable. “But like—”

“It tastes good.”

“Yeah,” he stared at her.

Hanji laughed, cheerfully. Levi felt a slight twitch in his mouth as he watched her. “Do you have more?”

“Of course I do.” She then showed him a snippet from Romeo and Juliet. Levi took the book in his hands and read it aloud.

“My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I must love a loathed enemy.”

The chance to make a reference was too good and too obvious to ignore so Levi whistled, looking at the pages. “That’s rough body.”

Hanji burst into laughter.

-

Afterwards, they watched the way the clouds move slowly blocking and revealing the moon, hiding the stars behind, and giving the night an almost otherworldly view. Hanji kept talking, of course, whenever something came to her mind. Levi never quite understood half the things she had told him, but he always paid attention. Because watching her like this was like watching the flowing of a cascade. It was endless and it was loud and for that it was fascinating, and it was addicting. 

And he couldn’t look away. 

“Levi,” she said when the air started to become colder, and he was about to tell her that they should go back now. “I want to be a rocket scientist.”

“Huh?” 

“I want to help people explore the universe,” she went on. She didn’t look at her confused expression, instead, she watched the stars with the slightest of smiles on her face. “I want to build rockets and I want to learn more about everything out there.”

She held up her hand, closed one of her eyes and looked at the sky through the holes between her fingers. “And I want you to be with me.”

Levi thought about cascades again and remembered a class in the school in which they learned how they created a pothole on the ground it fell. It was mere water, he had thought then, but it was strong enough to bore through the hard rocks. And Hanji was only a thirteen-year-old girl with a dream bigger than even the two of them, but she was a cascade, and as he watched her face which carried no doubt or insecurity, he believed at that moment that she could do whatever she ever wanted.

“I don’t think I can be a rocket scientist,” he said. Even the term itself sounded so weird in his ears when he tried to picture it on himself.

“You can be an engineer,” Hanji said, presenting another option. “You are smart enough to be. And then we can work together. Don’t you think it would be nice? Exploring the universe and other worlds behind the walls of the Earth? I mean we can even go to the same university. If you’d like to, of course.”

They were only thirteen. And those dreams seemed too big, too far away, and so out of reach and quite insolent for their age. But Hanji’s eyes were full of hope like she had no doubt about each of them achieving those seemingly distant dreams. And Levi wished he could be as hopeful as her and believe that they could go to the same university, then work together and explore the mysteries of the universe and maybe even more. Yet at the moment no matter how he tried, they still seemed so strange and so unlikely. Future was the furthest point of the ocean, a mirage in a desert, and they were merely kids with nothing but unformed, tender dreams in their hands. 

How daring, he thought. 

But then again, before he met Hanji, he had also thought that the sky was unapproachable, and the stars were just a view he enjoyed watching from time to time. Now, he touched them in an attic, underneath a makeshift sky and with a girl who had stardust in her eyes.

“Okay,” he said.

She smiled so big, she almost outran the sun. “Okay,” she repeated. “We have a dream then.”

-

“Good morning, Mrs Zoe.”

Hanji’s mother was a nice and kind woman with a height slightly over the middle, brown hair tied up neatly, and a pair of gentle brown eyes which were radiating warmth as they looked at him. She was dressed in clean and fresh attire and smelled like daisies. Levi would never understand how a girl, untidy, messy and dirty, like Hanji came out of this civilized woman.

“Good morning, Levi,” she smiled. “Come on in.”

Levi stepped inside and removed his shoes, then his jacket. “Is she—”

“She is in her room,” Mrs Zoe sighed, shaking her head. “She is being overly dramatic about it, boy. Be careful.”

Levi snorted. He had expected nothing less. “Sure.” 

Hanji’s room was upstairs, and Levi prepared himself for a war scene as he knocked and opened the door. He was right of fucking course. Books, clothes, empty water bottles, and old, stuffed toys were covering the ground. Levi wrinkled his face in disgust and put the bag in his hand aside next to the dresser. Then set in to tidy up the room; folded the clothes, piled the books on her library and shelves, threw away the empty bottles and some eaten chocolate packages. Then he opened the curtains and left the window ajar for some fresh air to fill inside the room. 

The figure buried under the blankets in her bed groaned and tossed. Levi watched as the bed creaked under her movements, and a puddle of messy brown hair showed itself on the head of the bed, setting free from the blockade of the blanket. He walked closer, reached down and pulled the blanket off. 

She yelped, eyes wide in shock, and her body stayed frigid on her bed. “What the hell, Levi?”

“Language,” he warned, smiling slyly. She frowned and attempted to take the blanket back, but Levi had already lied it over her again. It only covered her from the belly down this time rather than her whole body like a damn shroud.

Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Heard you were sick.”

Just then she sneezed and cleaned her nose with a tissue that was already in her hands. Then she groaned. “I’m dying.”

Levi rolled his eyes. Dramatic indeed. “Do you have a fever?”

“No,” she sniffed. “I am not sick actually. It is an allergy, because of the weather.” She coughed and sneezed again. “And by the everything holy out there, it’s killing me.”

It was early Spring, so it made sense. “I don’t think a spring allergy will kill you, four-eyes.”

“Actually, some allergies are deadly,” she cleaned her nose again. 

“But not this one.”

“Yeah, not this one I guess.” She stared at the ceiling, her eyes were watery, nose red and somewhat wounded, her oval-shaped glasses were slightly inclined, her hair was dishevelled, and her mouth was dry.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He got up from where he was sitting and took the bag he had left by the dresser. When he sat back down again, he handed her over two packets of chocolate milk. “Here you go, drama queen.”

She blinked at the items at first, until her vision became clear and when she found out what they were, finally a smile so big bloomed on her face that Levi felt relaxed. “Hero,” she uttered before she snatched the milk off from his hand and immediately opened one of them to drink with utmost appetite. 

They leaned their backs to the head of the bed as Hanji drank empty both of the chocolate milk. After that, she slipped down a little and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Levi,” she said, lazily and sniffed. “Quick wordplay.”

“Go.”

“Virginia Woolf?”

It was a stupid game they had played one day when they got so bored, they had started to dangle head down from Levi’s bed. Basically, they were trying to make fun of artists’ names in general. Trying to get as creative as possible. And failing a lot. “A she-wolf?”

“That’s sexist, Levi.” 

“How is that sexist?”

“I don’t know it sounded sexist,” she sneezed and cleared her nose, groaning miserably. “Okay, Shakespeare?”

He considered for a moment, eyes up to the ceiling. “A man who enjoys shaking pears?” The words almost made him flinch. So much for being creative.

“Levi,” she chuckled first, then started to giggle. “That was disgusting. Oh my God, you’re so bad at this.”

Levi scowled while Hanji’s laughter got out of control. At some point, her coughs joined the symphony but that didn’t stop her from laughing her heart out. She leaned into him more, almost making him fall from the bed. Fortunately, he balanced himself at the last minute with the help of the bedside table.

“Oi!”

“What is she laughing at?” Hanji’s mother asked from the door, smiling at her still laughing daughter, with confused eyes which held the understanding of a mother who was so used to her daughter’s antics. She was holding a tray in her hands and there were two bowls on top of it which Levi guessed to be soups probably. 

“She has lost her mind, finally,” Levi replied, blatantly. 

“No!” Hanji exclaimed, suddenly. Then there was a pair of hands grabbing his collar, then her wide, brown eyes were staring at him. 

“What?”

“Levi, you know what to say to that!” She shook him. “We’ve rehearsed this before!”

It took him merely two seconds to understand what she was talking about. “No.”

“Please,” she pleaded, even had the audacity to pout. “You have to say it!”

He sighed, looked away, then saw her mother still in the threshold, now appearing to be obviously confused. On the other side, there was Hanji, continuing to look at him with those big, pleading eyes. 

“O what a noble mind is here o’erthrown,” he said, with a tone so flat Shakespeare would possibly erase the line from the text if he were to hear it. 

“Oh my God, Levi!” Hanji giggled breathlessly. “Your face!” Then she started to laugh drastically again, she even had to lay down on her side, her body shaking with the intensity of her laughter. Hanji’s mother on the other hand merely sighed and left the tray on top of the bedside table. There was also a pill on it, Levi realized. “Make sure she drinks it okay?” she told Levi.

He nodded in response and she left closing the door behind her. 

Levi had to almost force the spoon down her throat for the soup to reach her stomach. She whined and tried to dodge from him like a four-year-old. Levi didn’t let her though until the bowl was empty. Then he drank his own.

“You’re gonna be a terrible father,” she said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“Use a goddamn tissue, you uncivilized moron.”

“That’s none of your business.” She slipped down to lay on her bed after she drank the pill and pulled the blanket to her face. 

“My job here is done, I guess,” Levi murmured and stood up, putting the bowl on the tray. 

“You’re leaving?” Hanji watched him through the space left from the blanket which was covering half of her face.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You get some rest.”

“But I’ve been resting the whole day, Levi. I am bored.”

“What do you want me to do?” He raised a brow.

“Stay?” She asked, blinking her eyes innocently. 

When Levi didn’t directly object her, she moved a little to create space for him, then opened the blanket and looked at Levi expectantly, and with a sheepish smile on her lips. 

Why can’t I say no to her? Levi mused and scowled at himself inside as he lay down on the bed. Her smile remained in its place as she pulled the blanket over their heads, and they laid face to face in the dark, the only sound was their even and quiet breaths. This close he could smell her shampoo and the odour which only belonged to her, a mix of ancient books, ink and something soft like vanilla-scented candles. 

“You smell very nice,” she whispered.

Levi was taken aback at the fact that they had been seemingly thinking the same thing. “I smell clean. Nothing you are used to.”

She snickered and sniffed. “So cruel, Levi.”

And he smiled only because she couldn’t see.

-

There was a marble pool near her school. It was round, bygone and had a small amount of water in it. In the water there were tokens of different sizes, some were new some were old enough to become rusty. Hanji enjoyed walking past and stopped by that pool every now and then. If she were lucky enough, she could find thirsty birds or sometimes protrude eyed green frogs. Today was one of those lucky days. 

“Hello, little bud,” she smiled at the frog, reaching out with her index finger to touch its wet, and sleek skin. The frog croaked and responded to her stare with its big, rounded black eyes. “Would you like to come with me?”

She smirked when she imagined Levi’s disgusted, and horrified face if he were to see it. The frog croaked again, and as if it had understood what was going to happen to it if it agreed to come with her, it turned its speckled back to Hanji and jumped into the pool.

Hanji sighed wearily. “Alright.”

“What’s that weirdo doin’?” A voice belonged to a boy near her age spoke and Hanji froze where she had kneeled. She folded her fist and waited quietly for them to just walk away. 

“Her weirdo shit,” his friend answered. What a sharp mind for his age! “Maybe she hopes if she kisses a frog it will turn into a Prince Charming and fall in love with her.” The three boys came walking behind her, two of them roaring with laughter while one of them made disgusting kissing sounds.

“I don’t think even a frog would fall in love with her,” Jack, the one who had talked first said and their laughter doubled up.

Hanji had recognized them, how could she not, they were unfortunately classmates. They had been messing with her since the first day they had started middle school. She had been ignoring them quite successfully since then. It was going to be almost three years and she was going to graduate anyway. She only needed to bear it for a little while longer.

Hanji slowly rose. She was going to meet Levi and she was already running late. Levi wasn’t a fan of waiting for her and each time she somehow managed to be late to their meetings. It wasn’t her fault that nature held so many things ready to be discovered by her. And Levi always chided her for being tardy, but Hanji knew he was never actually angry at her. Just slightly annoyed, but that was his nature.

She must’ve been incredibly tense because after thinking about him she felt her body relaxing. Even her jaw which was tightly shut eased, and she breathed then shook her head. No need to be so stressed over a bunch of good-for-nothings, Hanji.

She was about to be fully stood up when another body crashed against her and she stumbled forward. Her eyes widened, her world lost focus as she blinked her eyes and tried to understand the reason why she was seeing the things which were merely an inch away from her blurry. It didn’t take her much to understand. Her glasses were absent. 

“Ups, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” The boy who crashed against her said. Was it Jack or one of the others she didn’t know. She was busy looking for her glasses on the ground. Calm down, calm down, she repeated inside. If you panic now, you’ll give them what they want. 

“Watch out, Sammy, you’ll break her glasses.” 

Sammy, so it was Sam. Then the third was probably Daniel. Didn’t matter. She had to find her glasses. Right now. Or else she couldn’t go to the roof; she couldn’t meet Levi. Everything was so damn blurry. Where the hell were her glasses?

“What an ugly pair of things,” Jack said. He walked in front of her and pushed something with the toe of his shoe. That thing shone when it moved, a short moment of reflecting the light of the sun but Hanji had understood what it was. 

Calm down, calm down, Hanji, she remembered herself over and over again. Don’t panic. 

“Move,” she said to the boy finally raising her eyes to meet his stare. There was a smug look on his pale face. His hands in his pockets. 

“She can talk!” He exclaimed, laughing. 

“Move away, Jack,” she repeated. “I don’t have time for this.”

“For what?” He asked lazily. “You should be thankful that we are talking to you. I am sure you haven’t communicated with an opposite-sex all your life.”

That one was easy to let slide. The fact that her best friend was the so-called opposite sex was none of their business anyway. Thus, she stepped forward, ignoring his words. She didn’t want to kneel down to take her glasses. He had to move.

Yet, he didn’t. Instead, he stood where he was, his stare, cocky and priggish never leaving her eyes. As if he was challenging her to do something to him. What can you do? It was saying. You are a slim, feeble girl. You are nothing. 

A weirdo. 

Another step forward.

Loser. Lunatic. 

Hanji put her hand on his shoulder to push him back at the same time Jack took a step towards her. She hadn’t put much pressure to keep him in his place for she was only aiming at pushing him slightly back. So, when he moved, the hand on his shoulder was useless to stop him. Hence something cracked under his foot and Hanji froze.

“Oh, damn,” Jack said, faking a regretful voice looking down at what he had done. “I broke her dear glasses. How reckless of me!” He and the other two laughed together while Hanji stared at the broken piece of glass on the ground unable to move her body.

“But don’t worry. It was so ugly anyway.”

Calm down, calm down, the voice inside of her head proceeded to repeat in her head as if it were afraid of her losing control. Take deep breaths, let it go. You’re going to get rid of them in—

“Yeah, just like its owner.”

It was nothing she wasn’t used to. Ugly, dirty, messy. Are you sure she is a girl? She never even wears skirts. Maybe it is a guy under disguise. It happens in movies. Hahaha, maybe we’ll catch her in the boys’ restroom someday!

She was used to it and she always ignored them. Always let it past. They were just a bunch of teenage boys, silly and ignorant. And despite everything, she had been fully aware of the fact that she was much much smarter than them all. Coming from the same country, going through the same education but not each apple on a tree was fresh. Some were rotten and some were green. And there was already a boy in her life who was the direct opposite of everyone she had ever met. A boy who watched the stars with her, a boy who smelled like leaves, soap and the wind and a boy who memorized lines from an old, English poet not because he was so fond of them but because he knew that she was. 

The boy who was waiting for her now, and she was getting late.

It was that thought that single reality that had finally moved her body. The voice inside of her head silenced, and for once in her life, she let the wheels in her brain stand motionless. Her hand reached forward and grab the collar of the boy and with power mostly coming from her anger she turned and held the boy just above the pool and supported herself by putting her foot on the marble edge of it. Jack who had been caught off guard for he hadn’t been waiting for a launch from Hanji could do nothing but gasp in shock.

“What the hell are you doing, you lunatic?” he yelled and grabbed her hand which was gripping the collar of his t-shirt.

“Let Jack go, you goddamn weirdo!” One of the other boys exclaimed. 

“Don’t come close!” Hanji warned. “Or I’ll let him fall. I am sure it won’t be a soft fall, don’t you think, Jack?”

Jack’s eyes flared up with rage and vague fear. He took sharp breaths, as he tried to balance himself only with his folded legs. “Don’t come close,” he warned his friends without breaking eye contact with Hanji. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Hanji almost snorted at his words. For God’s sake, who was he? A mafia boss in the disguise of a teenage boy? She smirked, whatever. “I’ll be waiting.” 

Then she pushed him slightly backwards, causing him to yelp in panic and held her hand tighter. Her smile widened to the extent of becoming almost wicked. “Having fun?”

“You’re crazy,” he said, between thick, fast breaths.

“Maybe,” Hanji whispered. 

Jack was only a slim, teenage boy with no muscle or fat whatsoever in his system, so he wasn’t that heavy to hold. But even though her anger was feeding her at the moment, her arm had started to shiver, because she didn’t necessarily use her arm muscles for anything that required physical strength and she didn’t want him to realize it. Hence, she pulled Jack upwards, turned him around and threw his body to the ground. He hissed as he landed on the hard, stone ground. Sam and Daniel quickly reached and kneeled on either side of him, helping him get up. 

Her side was blurry, and it was coming back as nausea. She was still angry, her body was trembling with the force of it, her fingertips were numb. But they were three and she was one. If they decided to attack her altogether, she held a very little chance against them. Especially now that her vision was the least clear, she was at a disadvantage. The wisest thing to do was to run away now that their attention was not focused on her. And she readied herself to do so, a foot behind the other, her hands gripping the handles of her bag on her shoulder, she checked the direction she was going to follow, and she prepared to run—

And then, she couldn’t.

A hand grabbed her collar tightly, tight enough to almost choke her. She glanced before her in shock, with her eyes as wide as a pair of big, round rocks and saw Sam.

“You little bitch,” he whispered, drawing her close by the collar. His eyes were black as coal, burning with fever. “You think you can run just like that after what you’ve done?”

Oh, well, she thought woefully. That was bad.

“I have done nothing,” she said, blinking her eyes in ignorance.

Deep breaths, the voice talked again, keep your heart steady. 

He clenched his teeth, his jaw moved in a way that almost made her laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” she said, calmly and smiled nervously. “But maybe you should—”

“Get,” a voice, so dark and smelled like ice, said. A voice so familiar, like the backs of the books on her library. “Your hands-off.”

If she was surprised before, now she was startled. Because it was Levi, in all his Darkling glory, standing right beside them, and with an aura as black as the shadow of death. He was glaring at the boy who was holding her collar. When had he come so close? She had never noticed. And also, why had he come anyway? He was supposed to wait for her—

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked, frowning. 

“You’re going to find out if you don’t take your fucking hands off of her.”

Surprisingly, Sam did let go of her, but he didn’t seem the least frightened by Levi as he turned to face him. 

“Levi,” she started, but he didn’t separate his gaze from Sam. “Levi, it’s okay. Let’s go.”

“Don’t tell me,” Sam laughed, deridingly. “Are you her boyfriend?”

Hanji winced at the word in shock, but Levi was tranquil like the sky right before a catastrophe. 

“What if I am?” 

Sam whistled and glanced at Hanji from the corner of his eye. “Nothing, I guess.” He snorted. “Just surprised to see this weirdo having a boyfriend—”

It was a bad day for collars in general it seemed, when Levi grabbed Sam’s furiously, pulling his face close and a little down to him.

“Call her weirdo again,” he said in a low voice. “Or lay your hands on her and I will show you then who I really am.”

Hanji was impressed, to say the least. She felt like she was stuck in the middle of a low-budget film adopted from a best-selling but dabster romance-action novel. It was strangely exciting though but also becoming slightly dangerous too. 

“Levi,” she tried again. She didn’t want him to get into any trouble because of her. She caught the arm of his jacket. “Drop it. Let’s go.” 

“Where the hell you think you’re goin',” Jack came near them, his face twisted in a wicked way. “You little slut—”

The term that “everything happened so fast” mostly used in novels, was quite accurate as Hanji herself found it out first-hand when Levi’s fist landed the side of Jack’s face so fast, she only had time for a quick inhale. 

“Son of a bitch,” he snarled, voice full of such hatred it was almost like it belonged to somebody else.

After overcoming the first wave of shock, Jack straightened up, his teeth greeted and eyes aglow with anger, and wasted no time in punching Levi right back on his cheekbone. Levi’s body stumbled to the side; his hair black like the midnight ocean winnowing with the force of the blow. 

Then all hell broke loose.

“Levi!” she yelled and rushed forward. A yellow light, luminous like a streak of lightning flashed before her eyes, and within a moment the blood in her veins consisted more of raw fury than of platelets. However, she couldn’t make it that far for she was held back by a pair of hands on her arms. “Let go!” she screamed, struggling to free herself of those hands.

“You stay here, while Jack takes care of your boyfriend.” Hanji heard Sam’s sly voice behind her, and she grunted in frustration, still floundering to get rid of his iron hold. The word felt too weird and for some reason wrong because Levi wasn’t her boyfriend. He was more than that. He was her best friend. 

Her best friend, being beaten because of his best friend. “Let him go, Jack. You ignorant bastard!” She exclaimed, feeling guilty and incredibly useless.  

The two boys continued striking each other with punches and kicks. Gruff voices, and painful whines which Hanji couldn’t always decipher to whom they belonged filled her ears. She couldn’t even get a clear view of the two as they stumbled away from her, and because of her murky vision, she didn’t even know if the little, red spots on the ground were actually droplets of blood. And it terrified her to even think about whose blood they might be.

“Levi!” She screamed then grunted and kicked Sam’s leg and stepped on his foot while at the same time struggling to get rid of his hold. Sam hissed, and swore but didn’t let her go. Unlike Jack, he was taller and a little muscular in his arms. And she had nausea, also there was a stable pound right on her temple like a vein there decided to take the role of her heart. 

One of the two boys spitted and Hanji saw, albeit quite blurrily, that the colour of the spit was red.

“Oi, oi, oi oi!” 

An older, and rougher voice joined the chaos, and it sounded familiar, too familiar even, but Hanji couldn’t focus enough to think about who it belonged to. She realized Sam going solid behind her though, and someone shouted, “Kenny! Fuck, it’s Kenny the Ripper, Jack!” It was Daniel, Hanji found out when she looked around squinting. Kenny the Ripper?  The hell was that? 

“Shit,” Sam swore and released her arms. “Jack, come on! We need to go!”

Jack must have taken their warnings seriously for within seconds, she heard someone else, probably Jack, saying, “Fuck!” and the sound of three footsteps quickly running away. Levi, on the other hand, she knew because he was the only one left now, let out a hostile, muffled growl and took two quick steps forward, “Where the fuck are you running, you goddamn cowards?”

However, he couldn’t make it further away, for Hanji who dizzily stumbled to where he was, stopped him with her hands on his shoulders. “Let them go,” she said. “That’s enough.”

Levi was close, close so close for her to hear his sharp, quick breaths, and their cold touch on her cheeks, and feel the way his shoulders and chest moving up and down under her hands, his scent; fresh leaves, soap, sweat and blood—

And the bruises on his face.

“Levi!” She gasped, and without thinking, she took his face in between her hands. “Levi, your face…” 

There was blood on his lower lip and his nose, his right cheekbone was already taking the colour of a mix of purple, red, and blue another bruise was forming on his chin. There was also a little cut on his forehead, bleeding ever so slightly, but it was there. And it was there because of her.

Guilt punched her in the gut much harder than an actual, real punch would and it hurt a thousand times more than a simple blow of a fist would cause. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembled vaguely, and her eyes burned like ashes were splashed over them. “I am so sorry, Levi. My fault, it was my fault. I started it—”

“How the hell those brats knew about that ancient nickname,” Kenny muttered, coming to stand beside them. When Hanji looked up, she saw him face shadowed, and brows knitted. He seemed to be somewhat, just a little bit, terrifying. “Oi,” he said, coldly, staring down at both of them. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Nothing,” Levi said, severely and pushed her hands away. He turned his bruised face to the other side, hiding his gaze and the expression that was placed in them from her. 

“Your face says the opposite,” Kenny said, squinting and turned his gaze to Hanji. “Care to explain?”

“I—” she forced out, but she didn’t even know where to start. 

“We can talk at home, Kenny.” Levi walked past them, without sparing a look at either Kenny or Hanji. “Leave her alone.” 

He was mad, and he was right to be. Confirming it only made her feel even more shitty, and she bit her lip as to set a barricade to prevent herself from weeping like a baby just where she stood. She bent her head down when she started to walk behind him, both because of the guilt that weighed down on her and because looking ahead made her even dizzier and increased her headache along with her nausea. 

Kenny sighed but kept quiet as he too joined them. The three walked in silence, Hanji kept on chewing her lower lip as she traced the lines of her shoes and the cracks, holes on the pavement. A hurricane roared; a whirlwind grabbed the submerged emotions and relentless thoughts inside of her and twirled them wildly. The harder she fought the easier she lost against them. Conscience was a prison one had to visit from time to time. And currently, she was stuck within, the key was missing, and the guard was cold-blooded and unsparing.

A hand, steady and warm grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to the side. Hanji looked up in surprise to see she was about to crash against a lamppost had Levi not drawn her aside. 

“Careful,” he said.   

And it was his voice, low, smooth and gentle, and his hand which still held her not too tight but not too light either, or the way he moved his thumb on her shoulder, soothing, caring. It was all of them combined that in the end made her tear up.

She turned her blurry gaze to his face, he was staring ahead, his eyes were shining blue with the last rays of the sun and the blood on his lip and nose was almost dry now. She separated her lips to say thank you or I’m sorry, again, I’m so sorry. 

It was all my fault.

But the words died on her tongue, they never received a voice to come out alive, and he didn’t look back at her eyes. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder slightly as if to say, it’s okay.

She wasn’t necessarily convinced but for now, she chose to believe in him.

-

They were sitting in the living room of Levi’s house. Kenny was placed on a chair across from them, arms folded on his chest. She and Levi sat side by side on the couch. She was playing with her hands anxiously, her lip started to hurt from constantly chewing. Thankfully, her headache and nausea were better now.

They had arrived here about twenty minutes ago. Hanji couldn’t erase the look on Kuchel’s face when she saw Levi, blood and bruises all over his face, from her mind. Her face had turned white as the paint on the ceiling, making the guilt boil hotter and burn severely inside. 

There was no escape now. Kuchel deserved to learn what had happened to her son. So, Hanji told them while she treated the wounds on her son’s face, albeit reluctantly and when she was finished the room was silent for a while. 

Levi hissed as Kuchel cleaned the cleft on his lip. “Don’t tsk at me, boy,” Kuchel scolded him and attached a band-aid just under his lip. “You brought this upon yourself.”

“He didn’t,” Hanji objected. “Please don’t be mad at him, Kuchel. It was all my fault. I—”

“Shut up,” Levi snarled, suddenly.

“What?” Hanji asked, blinking.

“I said shut up!” Levi raised his voice, and when he looked at her at last, she saw the flames of his emotions rising up, up and up in his eyes.

“Levi,” Kuchel interrupted. “Calm down.”

Levi acted like she had never talked. “None of this was your fault!”

“But I started it,” Hanji attempted to say yet, he was too angry to listen.

“You didn’t start anything, Hanji! You protected yourself. You don’t walk around bullying people. You did what you did because they made you to.”

“But—”

“Stop blaming yourself for things you weren’t responsible for!”

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide and bright. Hanji was quite taken aback, lips parted slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to yell at her like that. From his earlier reaction, she had thought that he was angry at her because she was the reason for what had happened to him. But now she saw, with a startling realization, that that wasn’t the reason at all.

“They deserved what happened to them,” he went on, then looked away. “I would do the same for ten times more if necessary.”

Words rolled left and right on her tongue, her voice lingered on her throat, sentences shaped before her eyes but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t let a sound out of her mouth. Levi was like a river, she thought then as she watched the tempest in his eyes, with canals and meanders, sometimes he was as tranquil as the leaves on summer trees and sometimes he was wild enough to overflow over the edges.

“We are going to talk about it later, young man,” Kuchel said, looking straight at Levi. 

“What?” Levi asked, sharply.

“You can’t go around picking up a fight with strangers.”

“But they deserved it,” Levi pressed, jaw tightening stubbornly. 

“I can understand the reason why you think that they did,” Kuchel went on with a softer voice. “But violence is not the answer. You know that.”

Levi turned his face away, his jaw moved as he pressed his lips together, and he folded his arms. “Whatever.”

“You should be thankful to that old lady who saw you getting your ass beaten,” Kenny told him, leaning back on his chair. As it turned out the reason why Kenny had found them was an old lady who had recognized Levi and informed Kenny about the situation. Hanji genuinely wanted to find and kiss her hands for being the nicest person alive.

“I learned from the best,” Levi snapped.

Kenny squinted and looked at Kuchel. “Permission to beat your brat as punishment?”

“Declined,” Kuchel said, rolling her eyes. 

Levi smirked, and Kenny clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. 

“Hanji,” Kuchel turned her attention to her, kneeling in front of Hanji and she pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “I need to talk to your parents about this, honey, okay? They need to know. This is serious.” She held her hand and squeezed lightly. “You don’t have to face this alone, alright?” Kuchel smiled. 

Hanji bit her lower lip again when tears started sinking behind her eyes. She couldn’t find the strength to say anything, so she merely nodded in response. 

“Don’t worry,” Kenny said then, crackling his fingers. “If a verbal warning doesn’t work, I can always teach them a more permanent lesson.”

“Kenny, they are only children. Don’t be ridiculous,” Kuchel rolled her eyes and shook her head. “And it will work. We will make sure of it.” She raised her brows. “Right?”

“Yes,” she managed to whisper at last. “Thank you.”

Oh, no. She was near the edge of crying, only needed one more push and then she would fall and get drown in her own, salty tears. For some reason, she didn’t want to cry in front of Kuchel. There was nothing wrong with crying, she knew that, but still…

Then, a hand, the same one from earlier, grabbed her own and pulled her up. Hanji let him, despite the unexpected movement, and as Levi guided her out of the room, she merely followed without saying a word. 

“I am gonna take her home,” he informed Kuchel and Kenny shortly before they exited the room.  

The air was somewhat chilly outside, and the light of day was long lost but neither Levi nor Hanji were quite aware of it. Levi didn’t let go of her hand as he kept on pulling her, his steps were fast and determined, hand firm and warm around her fingers. She followed for a handful of seconds, trying to match his steps. She couldn’t get a clear view of the road, nor could she make out the lines of his figure from behind quite clearly. It took her several minutes before she pulled at his hand to make him listen, “Levi,” she called. “Levi, I don’t want to go home.”

He didn’t look back, he didn’t slow down, he didn’t even wait for her to reach him. “I know,” he said merely. 

With those two simple words, the final push came at last, and tears let loose without a warning. She sobbed and covered her eyes with the inside of her elbow, tears wetted her thin raincoat. And Levi squeezed her fingers as if to say, it’s okay, and this time she really, truly believed that it was. 

--

“Wait here for a second,” Levi stopped them minutes later. She didn’t know where they were. Now that it was darker, there were artificial, neon lights everywhere and they made her head throb. “Okay?”

She nodded and sniffed. Her face was wet with tears and very embarrassingly snot, however, she had no tissue with her or anything to clean her face with. 

Levi sighed and stepped closer. Hanji wondered why he was still there while he had just told her to wait. Then he lifted his left hand, and she saw that he had pulled his t-shirt over his palm. His right hand held her shoulder and as Hanji blinked her eyes confused, he brought his hand over her face then cleaned each wet spot with his t-shirt. 

She gawked at him in shock. “Levi!”

“Don’t.” He folded the fabric up after he was finished. “I don’t want to hear anything about this. Ever. Understood?”

She was still in awe; the great clean freak Levi Ackerman had just cleaned the snot in her face with his cloth! “You—”

“Understood, Hanji?”

It took much too effort to close her jaw, and say, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Then he walked away, leaving Hanji astonished and very much impressed. She felt her heart fluttering a little, and her lips curled upwards. “Softie,” she whispered to herself. 

When he got back a few minutes later there was a bag in his hand and inside a couple of chocolate milk and her favourite snacks. “You hadn’t eaten anything,” he explained, and when they settled on their road to the roof, she smiled, looking at his side profile. Softie, indeed. 

-

Hanji drank her milk, and they ate together with the snacks he had brought. It eased her headache and appeased her nausea a little bit. She couldn’t look up at the stars though, what a shame.

“We should go to the same high school,” Levi said after they finished eating and were watching the view ahead.

Hanji beamed at him and shoved his shoulder with her own slightly. “Yeah, it would be great.”

She leaned on his shoulder afterwards and enjoyed the breeze, and his warmth she borrowed through the fabrics of their clothes. When minutes started to chase the hours slowly, the night got colder, and clouds started to gather up above. “We should—” 

“I don’t want to see you getting hurt again,” he said, suddenly. 

Hanji looked at him and saw it again. Levi was a river, high and low, wild and calm, complicated and wide. He flew through rocks, valleys and lands. Just like a river, she thought, he carried his emotions in an endless stream. And once she let herself be carried away with it, there was no way to escape. And it wasn’t like she looked for one in the first place.

“Can I hug you?” she asked, with a voice so low, it was as if she was afraid of hearing the word no.

“Idiot,” he said, and she saw the waters calming down in his eyes, and his voice was tender like the petal of a violet. “You never need to ask.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, and as he hugged her back, arms tight around her waist she wasn’t quite surprised to realize that her vision was yet again blurry with hot tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For being there.”

“I always will be,” he replied without hesitation. And then a heartbeat later he added, “To the last syllable of recorded time.”

A tear escaped her eye, she laughed hoarsely and breathed in. He smelled like leaves, soap and the wind.

He smelled like home.