#but I’ve shifted how the blood god life cycle works

[elbowreveal]

Not enough posts about technoblade on my dash this week <- is also not contributing and has been largely offline <- has also actually seen many posts which are wonderful and queued but would like more 🐖🐖🐖

[bcitisthelight]

So.Where to begin.

What you should know is, this isn’t my fault. It’s @misskirby who is to blame for this. She has this AMAZING fic, it’s called Benediction. I like to read it weekly, for sustenance. Go read that first if you want...literally any of this to make sense.  So there’s this passage which stole every marble I had, wherein Anakin is explaining the etymology of the Huttese he uses to refer to his children (with a really thorough explanation on Luke’s name. 

Anakin scrubbed the back of his neck. “Huttese doesn’t have—words of love. It doesn’t have… benedictions. It’s kind of a cruel language. There’s a whole case for groveling and then—there’s really only the word for love.”

“And that’s abiya?” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s grin was crooked. “No. That’s luke. In the Tatooine dialect, at least, it’s luke. We used—things, mostly, to—you know.”

“Luke,” Obi-Wan said, tasting the word, looking down at the sleeping child he’d just been holding, one who carried his parents’ love for him in his name. For the first time in all his life, he wondered what his own name meant, and who it was who had given it to him.

“Abiya is the milk from a flowering cactus,” Anakin said. “It’s very sweet. And rare. I only ever had it once, with my—my mother.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at Anakin again. The expression on Anakin’s face was raw, intense, but Obi-Wan forced himself to look at it, out of respect for the memories of a woman he owed all of Anakin to; the one who had protected him, loved him, when Obi-Wan hadn’t known he had existed at all.

“It also means the morning rain,” Anakin said, waving a hand. “A lot of words in Huttese have many definitions. Abiya, though—it’s a relief. A respite. Pure joy.”

Obi-Wan swallowed around the burning in his throat. “I see,” he said, strangled.

Anakin looked away, his throat bobbing. “Luke only has the one definition, though. There’s only one word derived from it, too, lukkali. Noun and a verb. A krayt dragon whelp, or—krayt dragons, the mothers, their carry their whelps in their mouths, because there’s no place on Tatooine that’s safer, so it’s also the act of doing that.”

I LOVE this passage. I love all of the work it does emotionally, narratively, etc. It’s the best. And yesterday morning, I zeroed in on a specific line. “In the Tatooine dialect” Except hold on, I thought to myself. Anakin was born a slave. What if, when he says the Tatooine dialect, what he means is...the dialect of the slave class? 

So here’s the thing. The Hutt society is based on the idea that the Hutts are the prime race, there was the whole Hutt empire thing, I mean the holiday the Boonta Eve Classic is supposed to commemorate is literal holiday that commemorates a Hutt ascending to godhood, during the process of which all of his slaves renew their vows of fealty. It’s not just a class system, where you can you know, in theory move between classes. This is a strict caste system, which you are born into or are captured into. Which got me thinking - what if the language of Huttese has a dialect system...based on caste? We see examples of this sort of socio-linguistic pattern in actual real life!! Tamil and Arabic are some pretty famous examples where certain historical societies who use that language break down that language based on caste, with their different varieties having all sorts of different meanings and cultural connotations, but there’s a ton of them. And in fact, there’s tons of societies which base their dialects on social or other cultural factors.

There’s even a name for it: diglossia, where a society as a whole uses one language but different parts use radically different dialects and forms of that language in different circumstances. Now, strictly historically, how diglossia typically works is that one dialect is seen as a low (L) dialect and one is seen as a high (H) dialect. And get this - in diglossic societies which also contain really severe social inequality - in some cases the dialects can seem almost unintelligible to those who speak the opposite dialect And then based on that passage I posted above, I thought...what if the unintelligibility in this certain case, specifically the unintelligibility between “high” huttese and the dialect spoken by slaves wasn’t surrounding the actual words or structure...what if it was /context/.

So basically in the last thirty six hours I’ve....I’ve made an entire headcanon on Huttese as a trifold diglossic dialect system. I’m putting it under the cut because God its, its a lot guys. Its a lot. Also? It’s written as though its an entry in sociolinguistic glossary of sort, because of course it is. Who wrote that glossary? Space nerds. Nerds in space. Nerds in space from Coruscant University who need research credits for their space masters degrees. 

For the purposes of this glossary, the modern caste system of the Hutt Clan has been recorded below. 1. Masters 2. Servants* 3. Slaves The reader should be aware that there is technically a high caste called “Grand Masters”, which historically was comprised of members of the Grand Hutt Council and their families. This caste used a dialect usually referred to as “Archaic Huttese”, and is the source dialect of Huttese, originally developed on the Hutt home planet of Nal Hutta. However, this language has long fallen out of common use.  The reader should also note that belonging to the Servant caste does not imply any quality of servitude per se. Rather, this is the caste of all ordinary free people who live under Hutt Rule. This designation is believed to have originated in the understanding within the ancient Hutt empire that any being who lived under Hutt dominion was by rights a servant to any Hutt who should need them.  The dialects of the castes are as follows.  1. The dialect of the master class is also known as “High Huttese”. The common dialect of all high-born Hutts, and widely adopted by non-Hutts who own slaves or hold positions of authority within Hutt society. This dialect is used in all interactions involving a master, whether between a group of masters or a master and a lower-caste member. With Hutt families whose bloodlines have been regarded as a part of the master class for several centuries, there is a curious strain of monolinguism in an otherwise highly polylinguistic society, with many high born Hutt families refusing to learn even the fundamentals of standard Basic. The reasoning for this seems to be a cultural belief held by the masters that any person of a lower caste bends to the needs of the masters, rather than the other way around. The historical risk of a master’s displeasure upon improper address has led to this dialect becoming the default in conversation unless you are absolutely sure of another person’s caste, since historically the risk of offense should you choose wrong was often very high. There are at least three different cases of blood feuds between members of Hutt Master families which involved the use of a lower caste dialect as a cause of offense. 

This default status of this dialect means that when a person in the Republic references “Huttese”, they are almost always referencing the master dialect. The master dialect is what is taught in the schools of the Republic. This has led to a sort of self-perpetuating cycle. As interactions with the rest of the galaxy have shifted to singular dialect, the use of the master dialect has become more solidified within common Hutt Society, even when the speaker is aware that Low Huttese would be acceptable. 

It should be noted that this exception applies only to free people. Slaves are required by Hutt law to use this dialect when speaking Huttese to any non-slave they interact with, even if that person does not belong to the Hutt caste system. The Hutt law imposing this requirement famously reads, “Because all beings are above a slave, a slave should speak to every being in the tongue of their masters.” The penalty for a slave addressing a master in anything but the high dialect is often some sort of physical punishment. A rather gruesome tradition which is kept in force to this day.  2. The servant dialect is also called “Low Huttese”. While originally it was relatively distinct from both the dialect spoken by the masters and the dialect spoken by the slaves of Hutt Society, it has since suffered a bit of stagnation. There are many factors which could cause this to occur. As the Republic opened up more and more channels of commerce to Hutt Space, and the Master dialect has become the norm outside of Hutt Society, true enforcement of the linguistic standard for non-enslaved beings has fallen much to the wayside in the last two standard centuries or so. Modern Low Huttese dialect is thus mostly similar to the Master dialect in grammar and generally accepted vocabulary. However, a remaining diversion exists which is based on pronunciation, and a significant reliance on rather course slang on the part of those who speak Low Huttese. It has been said by Huttese linguistic scholars that while High Huttese is a an excellent dialect for threats, Low Huttese is an excellent dialect for swearing.  3.  The slave dialect has no name in any official Hutt or Republic record. It is not recognized by any authority in either written or spoken form. In fact, generally the only beings who know or speak the slave dialect are those who are or who once were enslaved, and their loved ones. The dialect differs rather severely from high huttese - though primarily through meaning and cultural context, rather than actual structure. 

It seems that this “hidden” diversion was born of necessity, rather than choice. The masters didn’t like the idea of their slaves having a way of communication the masters were not privy to, and so would punish any slave caught speaking a dialect which was immediately recognizable as being outside of the master dialect. The slave class in the ancient Hutt empire adapted to this by taking the dialect forced upon them, and manipulating a large portion of it for their use. Rather ingeniously, they seem to have developed an entire dialect specifically ordered so that they could express themselves freely without being automatically targeted by a passing master or authority figure. This is the vital distinction: words in the master dialect often have vastly different or even opposite meanings when used in the slave dialect. Added to this complexity are the wide range of connotations and contexts for each word. An interesting note to the slave dialect is that generally, the more abstract a word is, the fewer meanings or connotations it has, whereas often the most culturally impactful words and concepts are taken from simple or every day words. There is only one word for love in the slave dialect - “Luke” - because it is seen as pure, and when given, unconditional. When this word is used, there is no linguistic distinction between platonic or romantic love - the slave class instead relies on idioms or proverbs to express the difference in feeling. In direct contrast, there are nine different ways a person can use the verb which means “to attach”, ranging from the mundane (“Attach these two machine parts together”) to the taboo (“to cause another person to be enslaved”) There are some words which are unique to this dialect, however. One example is the word for “freedom”, which in the slave dialect is “telena”. 

The master dialect’s word for freedom is the same as their word for authoritarian power. Freedom within the master caste, then, was specifically associated with the ability to exercise dominion over the world around them. Members of the slave class, as individuals who constantly suffered under that same authoritarian power, showed a collective repugnance for the association between freedom and the very dehumanization they themselves suffered. Drawing from the use of the anakin plant as one of the most culturally and spiritually significant symbols in the caste (See entry on Anakin, a flowering plant which originated in the deserts of Tatooine but which has since been domesticated throughout the Outer Rim) they instead chose to develop a word based off the Hutt verb “to bloom” One common expression amongst the slave class is “Telena telen ali anakin” - “Freedom blooms with the anakin” Those interested in the study of this dialect, then, are well warned that they should take great care in attempting to communicate in this dialect (if they can find a teacher, that is - many slaves or even those who were formally enslaved are understandably reluctant to give up what is likely one of the only means of expression of not only agency, but of caste solidarity. I have seen two former slaves go from total strangers to kindred spirits in the space of five minutes, upon discovering by means of dialect each others mutual experience.)

[luimagines]

RQ: He’s upset and needs comforting

Masterlist

Ya'll want angst? Because I have some angst.

Very hurt/comfort

Set platonically and within the group since there was no specification. Hope that’s ok! Sorry it took awhile, it got away from me again. I think this may be a trend.

Scenario under the cut! It’s super long so take caution!

Sky

It took a while for you to notice but eventually you do.

Sky has been acting weird all day.

It was only clipped responses at first, then it was was the lack of attention where Sky would have been the first to comment or act otherwise. What really tipped you off finally was how he seemed to be evading the whole group. Not necessarily stepping away and out of sight but he didn’t interact with anyone and when they approached him, he didn’t make eye contact, seemingly trying to cut the conversation short.

No one has said anything. 

You mention it to Twilight about his out of character behavior but he says that it maybe a bad day, or he slept wrong, or some other reason that you stopped listening to because it didn’t make any sense.

Sky was always trying to be friendly no matter his mood and it took a lot to shake him up.

What was eating at the Chosen Hero?

Soon, the uncertainty begins to eat at you too and you wait for night fall, once everyone is asleep to strike.

Strike up a conversation that is.

Sky usually takes the last watch because he’s usually the first one out regardless of what activities for the day so you strive to wake up early.

It works for the most part, your internal clock doing what you want it to do when you blink your eyes open. Part of you begins to drift off again so you sit up and nearly fall asleep that way.

A hand comes up on your back and rubs a small circle. “Nightmare?”

It’s Sky and he’s looking at you with mild concern.

You smile and shake your head. “No. I’m alright but I think I’ll stay up with you if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.” He moves out of your space and back to where he sat.

You follow, still groggy from just waking from your slumber but succeed in not stepping on any of your friends or waking them up as well with the added noise. you sit next to the Hero of the Skies with little fan fare and let the moment settle on the both of you before looking skyward.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look at Sky and continue star gazing even if they’re a little harder to spot as the sun travels closer for it’s shift.

Sky hums in agreement and follows your gaze upwards.

“Are you ok? You seemed a little off lately.”

Sky doesn’t say anything for the first few seconds and you suspect that maybe he didn’t hear you. With him spacing out so much and the fact that you whispered for the sake of your still sleeping friends, you’re inclined to repeat yourself but Sky answers in time.

“Just thinking a lot, I suppose. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah?” You don’t look his way. This is casual. This is friendly. This is not a big deal. “Rupee for your thoughts?”

“It’s not that interesting.”

You shrug. “Hit me with it anyway. It’s got to be something if it’s throwing you off your rocker. Maybe a new perspective will help clear some of it up?”

Sky frowns at your attempts, once again retreating into his mind. You let the offer hang in the air and let it sink in.

You’re disinclined to bring it up anymore. Your brain is still tired and you’re wondering your effectiveness when half of your thoughts are still muddled with sleep and fatigue. You could have totally slept in some more. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?

“Time mentioned something earlier that I can’t seem to let go of.” Sky begins.

You hum back and let him keep talking.

“I never fought this Ganon guy they all so talk so much about. I fought the God Demise. Before I could land the final blow, he cast a curse on me, on us, that some cycle would continue. His hatred would last forever and my blood line and Zelda’s will be cursed to deal with constant darkness caused by him.” Sky admits, looking now at his intertwined hands. “I finished him soon after that but... I wonder... Am I the cause-... Is this all my fault? Am I the reason that we’re all here right now? That everyone has gone through so much? So many thing happened that should have never occurred. Time and Legend and Wild have all suffered so much.... more than I can possibly ever imagine and it seems like it’s never ending. Everyone starts they’re adventures so young... If I had killed him sooner... If I had just got it over with... If I had just shut him up-”

“Hey.” Your hand lands on his shoulder, cutting off his tirade.  “None of this is anyone’s fault. The only people to blame are Ganon and now, this Demise guy. You did what you could. You still got the job done and no one here will ever blame you for what has happened to them or to Hyrule. You were young too... you’re still young. Give yourself a little kindness and understanding, just as you do with everyone here. You didn’t deserve it either. It’s not like you asked to fight a God.”

“Well...”

“Sky you know what I mean.”

“I should have been faster. If-”

“There’s no use in worrying about what if’s.” You shove him slightly. “This is our life. Even if you ask, no one is capable of giving you the answers. I get it. It’s hard to know if the path you took is the right one if it’s all you’ve ever known and you can’t see where the other would have lead... But... Even if horrible things happen, I’m still glad to have met you. I’m glad I met the others. I’m happy to be here with you and with them, and I’m glad that it’s not just me anymore.”

You let the words sink in before leaning down wards and trying to get him to look you in the eye. “I can’t answer your questions. But what happened, happened and the best thing we can do is learn how to play with the cards we’re dealt.”

He take a deep breath and  finally looks in your direction. “I know you’re right.” 

“Naturally.”

“But I can’t help but feel responsible for being-”

“But you’re not responsible for their pain or any of this Sky. If Ganon has anything to do with Demise then it’s all Demise’ fault. His and his only. Understand?” You stress. “I wish... I wish I could do something more to help.”

Sky places his hand over yours where you still have it on his shoulder and sends you a small smile. “I know. Me too.”

Wild

“Zelda, would you please drop it!” You hear the Champion yell, his voice carrying over the wind and somehow getting louder. “We’ve had this conversation before and it’s not the time to have it again. I have things to do excuse me.”

Wild storms into his house and shuts the door behind, blocking it with all his weight and waits for the indignant shrieking on the other side to go away. The voice ends with a frustrated huff and after a moment of silence, Wild relaxes and steps away from the door and further into the house.

You’re almost scared for the moment. You’ve not known Wild to yell, even less so for a Link to be on bad terms with Zelda no matter the universe. To make matters worse, you were the only that was actually within the house at the moment and you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed from here.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That probably wasn’t the way to go, if you were being honest with yourself.

Wild groans, loud and exaggerated and sits at the table in front of you with as much fan fair.

“Do not...call it that.” He sounds tired.

“Sorry.” You amend with an apologetic shrug. “That-” You reference to the scene outside. “-Didn’t sound ideal.”

“No. It’s not.” Wild sighs and places his face in his hands with his elbows on the table. Bad table manners, a small voice in your head pipes up. But it’s his house, so you bite your tongue.

“Can I ask what it was about?” You hesitatingly venture.

Wild takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “I wanted to live a simple life.” He starts. “Everything was over now, right? That was the idea I had. Defeat the evil and get to finally live as a normal man. Maybe explore more of my home and show Zelda all the cool things I’ve seen and done. Everything I knew, everything I remembered is gone and has been gone for a while. No one alive misses it. No one alive even knows about it. This is the world they were born into and they wouldn’t have it any other way. I was prepared to accept that and join them.”

Your face twists in sympathy as you nod along. “I take it that’s the issue here.”

“When I defeated Calamity Ganon and reunited with Zelda, she seemed so full of hope and purpose.” Wild continues. “I saw it in her eyes. She wanted a different thing to what I wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

Wild gives you a pained look. “Zelda wants to try and rebuild the kingdom. Make it into what she remembers it to be. She wants to strengthen relationships with the other nations and reestablish the royal family and a whole lot of other things that I cannot begin to think of how long it would both take and last considering all the damage that already been done. She wants to be Queen. And over what? Hyrule Kingdom is no more. Can’t be a Queen without a kingdom to rule and there’s not a lot of Hylians left that would agree to being ruled over or even enough of them to count as a kingdom to begin with.”

“I suppose it’s not a bad goal to have but you do make a point.” You try and add to the conversation, feeling wildly out of your depth. “Does she know that you-”

“Yes. And she thinks I’m crazy for it. She thinks that I’ve given up on my friends and the past and the future and- uugghhh.” Wild leaned forward and slams his head on the table with enough force to make you jump.

“That look like it hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I believe you.” A small smile covers your face.

A beat passes before Wild continues to talk with his head still on top of the table. “I don’t think she realizes that I’ve changed after everything. Maybe if I had my memories to begin with, or maybe if I had managed to defeat Calamity Ganon sooner, I’d be more inclined to agree with her, but I’ve experienced so much and done so much that I don’t want to go back to how things were. I’m a different man now.” Wild looks up at you. “She’s different too but I don’t think she’s ready for that conversation.” 

“So you’re stuck with this one?”

“Yes.”

“That sucks man.” You shift in your seat. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Not if you can change the past.” He pouts.

“Shame. I’m fresh out of past changing wishing powder.”

“That’s not a thing.” He pouts even more.

You chuckle at the display before sobering up ever so slightly. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do?”

“Maybe a third person party has to step in. It could be that it’s because you’re the one who saying that she isn’t listening.” You shrug. “I think you’re right but I’m willing to give her chance to tell her side of the story while you cool down in here. I can be a distraction so you can sneak out quietly and she won’t know you’re here anymore! It’s a win win! And maybe you guys can come to an agreement when you both see each other again with new perspectives.”

Wild gives you another tired look and leans into his hand. “I doubt it would work. Zelda is incredibly stubborn, one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But if you think it would help, I won’t stop you. I’ve run out of arguments and I’m done hearing hers.”

“Ok.” You say getting up and moving around the table. “I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a saying where I’m from that goes, ‘it’ll all be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.’”

You give Wild a hug around his shoulder and squeeze him tight. “I have faith that you’ll pull through and get to live peacefully, but until then, you’ve got us on your side ok?”

He leans in your direction and wraps his arms around your own. “I know. I figured as much.”

“Good man.”

“I’m definitely sneaking out of here though.”

“That’s fair. Go hide.”

“I will... And thanks for listening to me. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Four

"I'm sorry, what?" Four snaps his head up to stare at the Champion.

"What?" Wild tilts his head. "What? There's no stuff in the grass in my Hyrule. Just crickets and lizards...you know normal stuff. I don't know why there's tools and rupees in all of yours."

"You don't-" Four cut himself off with a click of his teeth, a piece in his mind clicking into place. He stands suddenly, clearly upset and tense as he processes the information.

"Four?" You call out to him but he doesn't respond to you, nor does he look back.

"Four!" Hyrule calls as well. "Where are you going?"

No reply.

"I'll go with him. Just in case." You stand up in a rush and nearly knock over the equipment at your feet in the process. "Don't wait up for us."

You follow him.

Four is fast and quiet and it takes very little time to lose him- or rather, for him to lose you.

Before you knew it, there's no trace of him and there's nothing within the forest that would give you a hint to his whereabouts.

"Great." You hiss and look around.

Nothing.

"Four!" If he won't show himself, you'll just have to make some noise. "Four! Four! Show me a sign so I know you're not dead!"

You wait.

"Don't make me get Wolfie!"

Nothing.

"Four!" You scream a little louder and begin to run. Now that you've said it out loud, despite being a joke in the beginning, the thought of Four being dead somewhere spikes your panic and anxiety and it fuels your quest.

It's only been a few minutes and Four can handle himself just fine but you don't think about that.

"FOUR!"

"Why are you screaming?" A voice come just beyond you.

You sprint toward it and find Four in a small clearing, crouched down and appearing to hold something in the palm of his hand.

"I was calling you." You don't know how you find it in you scold him. "A response would have been nice."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "I was having a conversation, it would be rude to drop it."

You get on your tip toes to look around him and find nothing. "With... With what?"

Four looks down into his hand and places it, ever so gently, on the ground, pausing and standing up to see you. "You can't see them?"

"See who?" You step over to him. "Four? Are you ok?"

His face twists in annoyance before sighing. "I'm fine."

"No offence, but I doubt that."

"It... a group of creatures that can only be seen by good children. They were important on my quests and have helped me greatly. Children usually stop seeing them around the time when they turn sixteen."

"Would it be easy for me to chalk it all up to magic?" You bit your lip.

"Probably. If it'll help you sleep at night." Four sighs and looks down to the ground, a small smile on his lips before it twists into a painfully and... he looks seconds from crying.

"I did so much to help them... and they helped me.... They leave gifts in the grass to help travelers and us heroes alike and yet... Wild says it doesn't happen anymore..." Four gulps and looks away from you and what ever is by his foot. "They wouldn't stop.... They're incredibly kind and hospitable and... There's no reason for them... Why are they gone?"

"Four." You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What happens to them?" His Adam's apple bobs a bit as he sucks in a breath. "It just means there was no one to help them."

"Oh Four." You pull him into a hug and nearly crush him with it.

"There's nothing I can do to help them, is there?" He sniffles into your chest.

"No, I... I don't think so Four. Not that far out into the future." You shake your head and begin to rub circles on his back.

You don't think he's crying but he might be fighting it because he does begin shaking.

He doesn't say anything else and you're loath to let him go when he's so emotionally charged. So you hold him. You hold him for as long as he needs and you wait for him to pull away first.

When he does, you keep your hands on his shoulders and he stays within your reach. Four begins to take deep calming breaths with his eyes closed and you instinctually run your hands through his bangs and push some of the loose hairs from his face.

Minutes continue to pass and the sounds of nature around you fill the void.

"I'm sorry." You say. "I wish I could help you but I don't know how."

Four nods and rubs his eyes. "I don't doubt that. Thank you. I'll be ok."

You don't think he's ready to go back to the group just yet, not after all that. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. How did they help you? How did you help them? What are they exactly?"

It earns you a small laugh and he grins up at you with a watery smile. "Sit down. And let me tell you about the Picori."

Twilight

“You almost died and for what?!” Twilight screams at Wild for the umpteenth time.

It startles you to hear his voice reach such volumes but you’re inclined to agree with him this time around. After Wild’s stunt with taking a hit to the head for Wind, you’d been on the look out for his more... self sacrificing behavior. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to do it and you tried to make it so there wouldn’t even be a chance for him to make such a decision.

This time though, in this last fight, you took your eyes off of him for only a moment and that’s when he broke his streak of uneventful fights. 

Twilight, of course, is livid and has no regard for the poor creatures of the forest that have to endure his tirade as he unleashes his concern and worry in the form of rage and over exaggerated gestures.

When Hyrule finishes healing your more minor wounds, you slink away from the soon to be screaming match since Wild is very much still conscious, if a little roughed up. You don’t intended to stray as far as you go but you don’t find it in yourself to care for the time being.

Being around so many people for so long is taxing. You make the executive decision to remove yourself for the time being while tensions are high, to both cool off and to avoid getting hit in the crossfire.

There’s a small creek nearby, you find, and decide to make a small space for yourself there until dinner comes rolling around. The birds and the babbling waters calm your soul and snuffle out the last of the adrenaline. You don’t know how long you sit there, but you can faintly hear the screaming match in the distance that you dipped out of.

You don’t regret it.

More time passes and you find that you may or may not have taken a small nap in the meantime. If the position of the sun is anything to go by.

Despite the pain in your back from sleeping against a tree, the slight ache in your neck from the angle you slept in, you feel better. Clearer, even.

You hope your absence wasn’t entirely noticed but you can’t seem to regret leaving either.

Footsteps creep closer to you and you huddle into a small ball out of habit to avoid detection.

It’s Twilight.

He walks near the creek and takes a heavy seat next to it. He looks both pale or red faced at the same time but exhaustion is laced in his entire body from what you can tell.

He doesn’t notice you.

You uncurl and set your legs out in front of you. Leaning forward a little, as quietly as you can, you see that he’s upset. It doesn’t surprise you. But seeing as you don’t how to deal with an upset Twilight and you can’t really sneak away without crossing his line of sight or making any miniscule noise, you still yourself and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Twilight calls your name. Quietly and hollow- like he’s not all there. Or in the way one would talk to a memory.

It’s immediately unsettling. Both in how he sounds and how he knew you were there without you doing anything. But you suppose Twilight can just sense things like that from times to time. It’s certainly not the first time he’s done it.

“I’m here.” You reply.

“How long?”

“A few hours I think. Longer than you were here that’s for sure.” You shrug and slowly crawl out of your hidey hole. “I think I fell asleep....The sun wasn’t over there when I first got here.”

Twilights hums in what you think is agreement but it’s really only a sound. “It’s a nice spot.”

You smile. It’s tense and little fake, but he’s not looking at you so you don’t care for authenticity. “Good thing it’s big enough for the both of us huh?”

“Yeah.” He looked into the distance again, noting that the sun is beginning to set and takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

“Can’t say that I have.” You move closer to him, aiming to sit by his side. “I’ve always enjoyed sun sets and I find them calming to watch but hearing someone finding them sad is a new one. Do you feel sad as dusk falls?”

He hums again. “They say it’s the only time their world interacts with ours.”

“Whos?”

“Lingering spirits I suppose...” Twilight tilts his head upwards before twisting it to look at you. “It’s nothing. I’m just reminiscing about my life before my adventure is all. My... father told me those words and I haven’t forgotten them since.”

You hum this time and lean back to mirror him. “Wanna tell me why?”

“That Champion reminds me so much of myself and yet... he’s ten times worse.” Twilight falls backwards with a soft thump. “I know why he does it but I...”

“You care about him and don’t want to see him hurt.” You shrug. “It’s not exactly a new concept.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Maybe I will. He gets just as upset as you do when this happens, you know.” You shift your weight to make it easier to stand up later.

“Does he? You’d think that he’d get the point to stop doing then.” He growls.

“Maybe he’s scared of losing more friends.” You blurt before you can stop yourself. That was something Wild told you in confidence and while he didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone- that was kinda implied.

Twilight stills for a moment, the fight leaving him again in a single breath as he considers your words. They don’t seem to be new news to him.

Wild is pretty close to Twilight...Maybe he already knew.

“I still think I’m entitled to not like it.” He settles.

“It’s not he’s asking you to be ok with it. I know I’m not.” 

“I guess that’s fair then.” Twilight sits up again and stands up in one fluid motion that you envy. With a turn on his heel, he holds his hand out to you to take.

You take it and feel him effortlessly lift you off of the ground with that one hand.

You don’t comment on it.

“Come on.” He says. “I’m going to need you for moral support.”

“Why?”

“If I yelled in front of him of the whole group, I should apologize to him in front of the whole group.” He admits and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “But I might need an excuse to get close to him again after all the things I’ve said.”

“I get your desert and you’ve got yourself a deal. I left to not get involved and here you are... involving me.” You tease. “I demand payment.”

“One desert? I can do that.”

Hyrule

“I can’t do this.” You snap your head to the sound of the voice and see Hyrule with his arms cross and shaking.

“What? What’s happening? Hyrule?” You step closer to him as you’re the only one within arms reach. “What do I need to do? How can I help?”

“There’s nothing. Nothing you can do, that can make this better.” Hyrule takes one ground step before throwing his arms down. “Don’t you see them? With all their tools and experience and then there’s- me. Just me. Some magic later and a old man with a sword and I found myself trying to save my princess and defeat some evil, but these guys...”

You look around, trying to see if Legend or Sky are close enough to give you back up, or better yet, take over. You suppose it’s better than a panic attack but it’s so left field that you’re stunned and floundering to catch this hot potato of a conversation.

He keep talking.

“For all that is good and holy, they are heroes. Do you see them? Some of them have training, and families and skills and I....was just a boy in a grave yard. How can I even compete with them? I don’t, that’s how. But how can they consider me an equal? When I was in town and listened to the elders and their stories, they would tell me of a legendary hero from the past who courageously defended our home until the very end and who was virtually undefeated in all his adventures. And then I meet Legend....and he’s so much cooler than all those stories combined.”

“Link.” You call out to him and back to the real world. “You need to slow down for me honey because you’re too fast for me to keep up. What do you mean how can they see you as an equal? You defeated Ganon just as they did. You stood up for your home just as they did. You did it all on your own just as they did. Why wouldn’t they consider you an equal? No one cares about where you’re from, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“But they can do so many things even without the sword!” He exclaims. “They all have a place to go to, a person who cares about them, a title or a skill and a world that’s not on the brink of collapse-”

“Ok, whoa, hey.” You step into his space and take his face into your hands, bringing it up for him to look you in the eyes.

“I have no idea what brought this up but I won’t stand for anyone talking bad about you. And that includes you. We... can talk about your home with clearer heads later, ok? Maybe the others can help with that when we get there, yeah? And well....” You’re sinking. You don’t know what to do with all this information and you have even less of an idea about how to address it.

“Good golly, when it rains, it pours with you lot, doesn’t it?” You hiss under your breath and bite the bullet. With a strong grip, you wrap your arms around the Traveler and pull him close. You try to keep your grip strong without fear of hurting him, but it hits you then how thin he is. How light he actually is. You can feel the hint of armor under his tunic and it does little to quell your fears.

“Clearly there’s a lot on your mind. And... I’m probably not the person to help you through this. If you want to talk about not belonging though, I’m free to listen. I’m the only one here who’s not a Link, if you haven’t noticed.” You try to joke but it falls a little flat. “You though... You belong here with all of us... all of them... And if you need more convincing then I’m bringing this up with Legend who’s is over the moon proud of you and what you can do and he told me himself that he couldn’t be happier to have you as his successor-”

“Really?”

“Not in those exact words admittedly,-” You gulp as the word vomit continues to bubble out of you in waves of panic. “-but I know that’s what he meant because he doesn’t stop talking about how cool you are.”

“Hm.”

“And everyone has a different background, ok? Everyone has skills and people that the others don’t have. That’s ok. It’s not a competition. I get worried that one day you guys are going to create some game out of all your trauma. Like... who had it worse and just go around in a circle listing off all the things that happened to each of you... Whoever runs out of things to say or can’t think of something as bad or worse than the others is out. Last man standing wins.”

“Don’t give them ideas.” You feel him chuckle. It’s breathless and small and it doesn’t reach your ears despite your closeness but you feel it.

“Good thing it’s just you and me right now.” You sigh a little in relief and loosen the hug. “Look, just.....whatever you think you can’t do, just know that there is someone who is confidently doing it wrong right now. In the group or not, just keep your eyes and watch. They don’t plan on doing it better either and people are celebrating them for it. Please believe in your own excellence as much as they believe in their mediocrity.”

“Big words.”

“You’re awesome for trying. Others are not and don’t plan to. You’re already better than them.” You amend, stepping away to look him in the eye again. “The group can’t do magic like you can. That’s all you. They all have items sure but no one can do what you do... and you’re self taught, right? That’s incredible! You have just as much as a reason to be here as the others. I swear it.”

Hyrule sighs and gulps. He doesn’t believe you. It’s not enough.

You knew it wouldn’t be and it’s definitely doesn’t scratch the tip of the iceberg of the bomb he just dropped on you but... step by step. Little by little. you have a plan.

“Screw it. Let’s catch up with Wind and Warrior and get them to tell you how awesome you are, since you won’t listen to me. And if you’re still a nonbeliever then we move on to the next pair. We’ll go down the line if we have to.” You nod and grab his hand, beginning to drag him along.

He laughs after you, a little hysterical and in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

“That is not new information.” You reply, hiding your grin. “I say it’s Hyrule loving hours and I’m gonna get everyone to join.”

“You’re not joking are you.” It’s a statement. He already knows the answer.

“Nope!”

Legend

It was your turn on watch for the night. In an hour or two you were supposed to wake the Veteran for his shift and finally catch some sleep.

The others snored and slept away without a care in the world. It was just you and cackling fire that was active but you’d kill for something to help your mind get passed the boredom.

Anything but monsters or an attack that is. You’d hate to jinx your good luck so far.

In the corner of your eye, while fighting to keep your head up, you see Legend shift. Not necessarily unusual. You’re inclined to ignore it.

But then he shifts again, whimpering like he’s been hurt and a white knuckled grip on the blanket.

You still and begin to wonder what’s your level of care here.

Part of you, in kindness, wants to go wake him. The lack of sleep seems more merciful than letting him suffer a prison of his own making.

But you also don’t know how he’ll react.

You know he’d hate to be seen as weak for whatever normal reason and he’s been inclined to wake up swinging in the right circumstance.

Twilight suffered a broken nose for the whole night because he was disinclined to wake up Hyrule or take a potion.

Not you’d make the same decision and suffer the whole night in the same manner but it certainly fails to sound appealing.

Just as your about to appeal to your better nature and force yourself to go wake him before it gets worse, he shoots up into a sitting position with a strangled scream. The job seems to have been done for you- but in the worse way.

He’s breathing hard with his hand gripping his chest. Legend begins to frantically look around and slowly begins to piece together where he is and what’s happened. He never looks behind him, where you are, before running a hand through his hair a little harder than you think reasonable and getting to his feet.

You cough slightly, leaning away from the fire and back into previous position. You hadn’t realized you leaned into his direction as you watched him, inches from putting your face into the flame.

He startles at the sound and whips around, one hand poised to reach the sword he’s not equipped with.

“It’s just me.” You wave. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He calms somewhat and you can see his jaw flex. “Well, goodnight to you.”

His voice is croaked- from disuse or an overwhelming emotion, you’re not sure.

“For me maybe. But you? That was quite a scare you gave me as well.” You play it off. You can at least pretend that you weren’t watching him. That you would have saved him a little earlier and took your sweet time doing it. You offer a peace offering to your morals. “Want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He snaps, furiously rubbing his face. “It’s nothing new. We all deal with it one way or another.”

“True. But it’ll be easier to let it go, and let the experience float up into the air and never return. Otherwise it’ll fester and grow.” You shrug. “But I won’t force you. I know you’re not exactly fond of me.”

Legend glares into the fire as you talk and refuses to look at you. Once you finish though, he moves his head away, still not in your direction but visually drops more tension from his shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything.

“There’s a spot next to me with your name on it if you want it.” You offer. “A little company wouldn’t hurt.”

He takes more time to respond and you resolve to go back to staring at the fire.

A moment or two passes and you hear the faint sound of crunched foliage. It takes of your will power to not look up as he approaches and even more so when he decidedly sits next to you.

The fabric of his tunic brushes your leg for a minute and it strikes you odd that he sat that close despite the rest of the log at his disposal.

It must have been bad if he wants to be close to someone right after. The thought enters your mind. Once it’s there you don’t chase it away and instead casually lean back with your hand behind you.

If the angle causes you to lean closer to him in the process, you don’t say anything. 

And if Legend notices, he doesn’t say anything either.

A moment of time passes in silence, the only sounds through the whole forest are crickets and a passing owl with the occasional whisper through the trees.

“How do you do it?” He asks.

“Do what?” You tilt your head in his direction.

He’s still not looking at you.

“Keep going.”

The answer shocks momentarily but you’re not surprised that it’s coming from him out of the whole group. “Legend-”

“I’m tired.” He says instead. “I hate this. I hate that sword. I hate that pig demon. I hate that I can’t be done.”

You hand comes up to his shoulder and you force him to look at you. 

He lets you and he looks up to you with tears building up in his eyes and for a moment you’re struck by the odd balance of how old he sounds but how young he looks- is.

You stuck floundering for a response to answer him with but he asks one more thing. “Why can’t I be done?”

You pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. “I don’t know. I don’t know Link.”

You find yourself wanting to cry as well once Legend collapses into the hug. He’s not hugging you back but he’s being held for the first time in... you don’t know how long. Your grip tightens.

“But I do know is that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And maybe....maybe this is the final fight. That’s why we’re all together right? A darkness so evil ahead that every hero is required and then....rest. For each and every one of you.”

You sniffle, carding your fingers through his hair without a moments hesitation. “If it’s not then I’ll fight everything for you from then on. I’ll take your place you hear me. I’ll take your job and title and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

“I’m the Hero of Legend. That’s not exactly an easy thing-”

“No. I am the hero now. I’ve decided it.” You hide the tears in his hair to the best of your ability.

Legend snorted, loud and wet but you elected to ignore it just as you were ignoring the ever growing wet spot on your shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It does now. I said so.”

A beat.

“...Ok.” He sniffled and rubbed his head on your shirt. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the night take over the atmosphere again. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He nods once, definitive and final. Your expecting him to let go now and return to his roll, already electing to take over his shift as well and just push through the next day.

Except he doesn’t.

Legend calls your name, testing the waters and lifts his head up ever so slightly. “...It’s not that I’m... not... fond of you-”

“Save it for a rainy day.” You grin. “I think you’ve had your fill of emotions for the night.”

He nods and eventually slips into sleep with his head on your chest, no doubt lulled by your heartbeat.

With tearful eyes, you stare back into the fire.

Time

Time marched from the stunned group the same way a parent does after making a scathing remark instead of a lecture.

You know the one. 

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”

The poor boys suddenly didn’t know what to so with themselves or how to get back into Time’s good graces.

You felt for them and their awkward meandering through the camp. So, with your pride swallowed, you follow in the vague direction where Time went off to and decided to at least talk him down.

He is... decidedly harder to find than you previous imagined.

Just as your starting to think the Old Man doesn’t want to be found, you hear subtle swing. It’s to your left and it sounds heavy.

So naturally you follow it

Which leads you to a small clearing just beyond a bunch of bushes.

Time is there, full armor still on and swinging his giant sword forcefully, each swing stronger than the last. It’s as if it weighs only as much as Four. You’ve wondered in the past what it would like if he decided to actually throw the smallest ones of the group but out of fear, do not voice your ideas.

Just because Time won’t doesn’t mean that the others won’t try.

It’s hard being the responsible one when there are nine Links to take care of, each as much as a gremlin as the last. It must be hell on Time’s back to carry the group.

You see where he’s coming from and yet...

“You can stand to be a little more patient with them.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can actually stop them.

Time stops abruptly, in both the figurative and literal sense, before the man turns to you with that same face of neutral disappointment.

“They are heroes.”

“They are also children, Time. I think that it’s because they are heroes that they deserve to act their age every now and then.”

“Slacking won’t divert the evil away from our home.”

“Running face first into the problem won’t solve it either.” You sigh and walk up the man. He tenses as you approach and slowly lets his weapon down. The Hero of Time is an intimidating creature but you refuse to let that dissuade you.

“Look, I know why you’re upset. I get it. It’s hard to get a job done when you feel like you’re the only one it’s important to... But have a little faith in our group. Please.” You plead and stop right in front of him. You have to look up at him slightly due to the angle but he was forced to acknowledge you here.

His arms cross and he opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

“You’re right, they are heroes and there is a job to be done and an evil to be done away with. But they were even younger when they earned the title. They still vanquished the darkness even for their age. You have to trust that they will do the same here.” You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, getting onto your tip toes to look him in the eye better. “And they will. Because they are heroes. Because they have the spirit of courage. Because they are Link... Just like you.”

He softens his stance ever so slightly but he still doesn’t look pleased.

“It’s not easy I know.” You get down again. “But they look up to you. I think all of them do. And I can’t stand to see how hurt they look when you get upset when they act their age. It’s not like they can help it.”

He takes a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He takes a minute to respond. Time stared at you intensely before he drops all the tension in his body and finally lets his weapon go. A single hand comes up to pat your head. 

“Let’s head back to camp.”

He says nothing else and continues to walk past you and back the way you came.

You don’t ignore the sense of accomplishment and refuse to dampen it when you catch the tiniest slivers of a smile before he turns away from you completely.

Wind

You’re lying peacefully on the dirt when you hear someone sit beside you with more power than would ever be needed.

You don’t open your eyes for the sake of the other person, not really thinking much of it and even forgetting that they were there until you heard the smallest of sniffles.

Now, you’re sitting straight up with wide and concerned eyes locking directly onto the crying form of your beloved pirate. 

It’s hard not to feel for him and while you’re not sure what sprung this up, you don’t have it in you to turn him away, or to ignore that he was upset.

Neither of you say anything and you’re almost afraid it make the picture in front of you a little too real.

Instead, you move yourself closer to him and open up your arms.

Wind doesn’t hesitate to throw himself onto you and let his body sag with unwanted emotion.

As sobs silently rack his body, you begin to feel yourself rock back and forth for both his comfort and yours. Soon you start running your hands through his hair and rub small circles on his back. 

He cries for a long time and never once gives you a clue why.

You don’t ask either.

Still, once the moment has passed, you continue to hold onto him. He doesn’t make any moves to let go of you any time soon and you’re happy to be there for as long as he’ll let you.

That doesn’t stifle your concern over the cause but you’re loath to bring it up.

Minutes pass with the boy in your arms and it’s only when you shift positions, does he look up at your face. His eyes aren’t as red anymore with the amount of time that’s passes since he’s stopped crying but his face is still a little puffy and his cheeks are both stained in tears and incredibly red.

A small smile creeps onto your face when you look back at him. “Feel better?”

“A little.” He admits and sniffles the last of the tears away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“For you? Anytime.”

Warrior

It struck you as odd that it was dinner time the group seemed to be missing someone.

Earlier that day the group had split up to take down some troublesome monsters on the border of some tiny town defenseless town and that was that.

It didn’t seem like big deal nor was it a particularly hard thing to do. The monsters weren’t infected and they didn’t have numbers on their side so your group took care of the pests in a matter of moments.

And yet, when everyone regrouped there was a visible tension.

Some thing had happened on the other side of the fight and no one wanted to fess up, even less so when Time mentioned it.

It worried you.

Now, as it stood the tension was still there but Warrior didn’t want to come out of the wood work.  He had left earlier claiming to need to check up on his appearance and no one had questioned him. No one offered to go with him.

It was always dangerous to go alone.

“Hey, has anyone seen Warrior?” You glance around again, hoping it was just a miscount on your part. “It’s been awhile since he left.”

“He takes his sweet time.” Legend snapped. “And you know how narcissistic he is. He’s probably trying to get every single little hair in the right place and working out every little blemish in his stupid uniform-”

“I’m going to look to him.” You stand, placing your cooling food down by your foot. You don’t know what happened or what caused it but at least an idea begins to form. “It’s been too long regardless. Keep my food warm for me, yeah?”

You don’t wait for a response and walk away into the tree line where you think Warrior might be.

“It’s getting dark. Be careful.” Someone calls from behind you, mouth clearly full of food.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

You march on.

When you’re sure you’re far enough away, you begin to call out to Warrior.

It takes a minute to get any results but you’re starting to worry about your friend. The sun is lowering in the horizon as time goes by and you’re beginning to feel silly and frustrated and-

“I’m here.” A tired voice replies.

“Oh thank goodness.” You cross the distance between you two. “I was really starting to worry.”

Warrior puts on a brave face and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes greets you when you stop in front of him. His look a little puffy and you think his eyes might be a little red but it easily be the lighting- or lack there of.

“Are you ok?”

“Obviously.”

You doubt him and it must have shown on your face because he immediately begins walking away. “Well look at the time. Crazy how fast the sun goes. Let’s get back to the group and eat. I’m starving-”

You grab his wrist as he pasts you and get a good look at him. “Are you ready to go back to the group? They can wait a little longer if you want them too.”

It irritated you that it’s come to this. How no one went to check on him. How no one offered to go with you. How no one seemed bothered by this. How long that he was alone dealing with something that’s been bothering him. How it took you so long to do something.  

“No. It’s fine.” He says. Lying. It must have really bothered him, usually he’s better than this. “It’s about time to head back anyway.”

“They can wait.” Your grip tightens. “The sun can wait. We’re not obligated to be there. What’s wrong? ...If you want to talk about it that is...” You trail off uselessly. It only occurred to you that near the end that he may not even speak about with you. You weren’t the closest in terms of grouping but you can’t stand the thought of someone hurting alone.

“I’m fin-”

“You look like you were crying.” You cut him off. “If you don’t want to talk about it with me, that’s fine, just say it. But you might need more time before you head back anyway if you actually want them to believe you when you say you’re fine.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“Warrior?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“If it bothers you then it’s not nothing.”  You push. “But....fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. I just wanted to see if you were ok... You’re not but it’s better than seeing you bleeding I suppose.” You grit your teeth, annoyed by the lack of results. You did tell him that he didn’t have to talk to you and you don’t hurt him further but part of you wants to fix this. Even if you don’t know what it is, your heart calls for justice at his pain.

But he is unwilling.

“Camp is this way by the way.” You mention, looking at the ground. “You were actually farther away than I thought, so it’s a bit of a walk.”

“I just think it’s easier for people when I’m not around.”

You still and slowly turn to face him. 

He’s looking at the ground as well, unable to say it and look you in the eye. It’s not what you were expecting and you’re not sure how to follow after that.

It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him- even rarer that he’s showing it to you and you don’t want to squander the show of trust.

“Back home...there was a lot of... attention on me. A lot of blame... for starting the war. Or at least being the cause of it.” He admits, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. A little bit kicks up and sticks to the toe. He does nothing about it. “People listened to what I had to say because I was some destined hero. At first I didn’t think anything of it because I had thought it was one big mistake and sooner or later people were going to see that I was just some soldier not worth the time of day. It happened to be pure luck that Impa got it right when she gave me this uniform. Zelda made me a captain because of it and suddenly I had all of these men I had to give orders to. And if anything failed or if we lost, it would all have fallen on me. The blame, the guilt, the responsibility of the war...and then we found out why Cia was even opening these portals to begin with-”

You hug him.

“Please don’t cry.” You say into his chest. Your throat is tight and it a little hard to breath but you power through. “I’m not good at this. I never have been.”

“I’m not going to cry. It’s not worth crying.”

“I’ll cry for you then.” You admit and hug him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was no ones fault.” Warrior hugs you back and rests his head on top of yours. His voice seems a little tight too and you’re sorry for all the things that he must have gone through. 

You hug him for as long as you deem appropriate before letting your arms go lack and stepping away.

Or... at least you try to.

Warrior suddenly has a grip on you and refuses to let you leave.

“Please... Just stay a little longer.”

You do.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough. 

[seriouslysnape]

Morning Challenge

Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Language.

Word Count: 1,682

A/N: This is the second time I’ve reposted this. I cannot get the format right lolz.

“Do you need a hand, baby?”

“Five more minutes?” You begged.

“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Remus replied.

“Please?” You pressed on.

“I can’t, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Remus usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.

And you weren’t happy about it.

“Remus,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”

You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.

“You have work too, you know.” Remus pointed out.

“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.

You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his exposed core.

“Can’t you put your grading off for at least today? Isn’t a weekend called a weekend for a reason?” You questioned.

A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“Yeah, something like that,” Remus answered; “I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to take a free Saturday.”

“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Remus’ facial hair scratching at your skin.

“Is it?” He acquired.

His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.

“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.

“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Remus replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”

You shrugged.

“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.

He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work, even if it WAS a Saturday. Although, staying in bed all day really was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.

“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.

You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him.

“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Remus being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”

Remus’ hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.

“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be.

You had to admit, Remus usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.

“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.

You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.

“Please.” You whined.

He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.

“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”

His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.

You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Remus’ head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.

He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.

“Darling...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance.

That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.

“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”

Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind.

You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.

He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.

“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”

Remus grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Remus was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.

But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.

His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.

Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.

His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing  softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Remus’ gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.

Perfect timing.

“A promise is a promise.” Remus grinned, his chest still heaving.

Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.

“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.

Remus’ dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.

“Promise?” He asked.

You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.

“Promise.”

[deans-haunted-baby]

Okay I see there are those who are confused as to why most of us are pissed about 15x19 I will gladly explain in depth:

Let’s start off with our boys Adam Milligan & Michael. These characters have not been seen for 10 fucking years. During that time there were Adam stans like myself campaigning like mad to have him and the infamous archangel return for some much needed closure. We had to content ourselves with headcanons, fanfictions and metas based on what we briefly knew of Adam and Michael as people while they unfairly sat in Hell. You might have seen the “Adam’s Still in Hell” memes that circulated. WE WAITED OVER A DECADE FOR THIS. And finally SPN answers our prayers and returns these boys back into the story for the final season. None of us anticipated what their arc and dynamic would look like. Before we could only imagine who these two characters were/are after having been trapped in a cage so long; what their personalities would be like and if they’d be antagonistic to TFW. 15x08 was a surprise because not only were Adam and Michael likable right out of the gate but the writing for them and their dynamic was damn near flawless! And Jake fucking stole the show he killed it as these two. It’s a crime they were not featured in more episodes because the chemistry between these characters is amazing and they’re played by the same dude.

We were given so much background into both Adam and Michael’s psyches in just a short period of time. Their motivations, interests and how they viewed those that wronged them (like the Winchesters); how Hell affected/changed them both and how they viewed their families. We got to see them banter, cooperate with one another and most importantly their different personalities. With Jake Abel appearing in only a handful of SPN episodes, he still fleshed out Michael and Adam beautifully; giving them layers and complexities that most side-characters (who’ve appeared more times than they have) didn’t. The way Jake played Adam’s anger and resentment towards his brothers was brilliant because it’s more under the surface compared to his angsty teenage self in 5x18. He’d become somewhat restrained, laid-back, gentler and wiser which works because Adam displays traits similar to Sam and Dean. He’s kinder and has a sense of humor but none of that distracts from rational thought as he’s quick to analyze and dissect situations. Man, he would’ve made a great hunter/Men of Letters recruit. We know right off the bat Adam’s pissed at his brothers for abandoning him in a thousand-year-prison-sentence and didn’t lift a finger BUT that ironically doesn’t compromise his willingness to help them unlike his past self in 5x18. Jake gets the point across with this character without saying much and that’s what made him so compelling to watch in this episode.

Now Michael was even more of a mystery onion since he wasn’t onscreen as much as Adam had been in past episodes so Jake got to really build on top of this character. Going from the uptight, cold-blooded merciless celestial warrior/dutiful son of God we saw in 5x22 to someone whom despite his arrogance and regal princely demeanor was very human, intelligent, fair, mindful and compassionate. He trusted Adam and respected his opinions even if he didn’t agree 100%. Whereas most angels take over the vessel completely from their original occupant; Michael chooses to share his vessel with Adam as a mutual agreement which says a lot about who he is. He’s fascinated with humanity and wanted to explore it instead of returning to his throne in the clouds. We know that Michael was created specifically to be Humanity’s protector and guardian of Heaven and Earth so these quirks he’d demonstrated in 15x08 aren’t too far off. He holds a lot of pain inside from his abandonment issues with his father whom he loves to a fault and grief over the death of his brothers. On the surface there’s very much an abused child syndrome thing going on with him though he masks it with a domineering presence. And above all this we saw that he was capable of forgiveness. Whether or not Michael always had these traits inside to begin with, its very evident that his friendship with Adam influenced the person he became post-Hell. And that was someone who, like Castiel, chose to rebel for the sake of free will by aligning himself with the Winchesters after witnessing the evil his father had committed. He actually cared about saving the world. This is what we call character development.

What does 15x19 do? It shits all over that. We don’t get to see Adam and Michael’s dynamic at all; and this was perhaps one of (if not the first) most healthy portrayal of a relationship between an angel and its original vessel occupant in the history of Supernatural. Adam is just killed off-screen Thanos style without so much as one last word and Michael barely reacts like he gives a crap. It was just established to us in 15x08 that he’d developed an emotional bond with Adam through years of inhabiting the same body. He protected Adam while they were trapped together in Hell. They were each other’s only friend and source of comfort. They’d developed a certain co-dependency on each other while respecting one another’s space. They’d both made peace with their joint situation. All they had was each other and the writing in 15x19 basically tells us their relationship meant absolutely NOTHING to Michael based on his OOC actions in this episode. He shows up much darker and shadier now that Adam is gone and its like all those years of friendship, things like that independence, newfound strength and humility he’d gained from living with a human for so long are erased. Michael just reverts back to Chuck’s 5x22 bitchboy persona in the most ridiculous 180 shift I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. And all because his little brother called him mean names. Pitiful. Just when he lectures Lucifer about standing up for what’s right; he betrays his own words, his allies and the rest of humanity in T-minus 2 minutes. That is total character assassination. Nothing about this motivation makes any sense.

There’s no build up to it, no foreshadowing in 15x08 or throughout 15x19 until they get to the lake. He’s completely deconstructed as a character in this episode and rendered weak. It’s like 15x08 never happened. Stripped of all his development for lousy shock value. Instead utilizing all of what he’d learned through Adam and sticking it to Lucifer by proving he could be more than what Chuck tried to mold him into; Michael becomes just another NPC in the story forfeiting the hero he was. And his reasons for siding with Chuck are never specified. Was it about about saving Adam? Was it about proving something to Lucifer (whom he’d already killed in anti-climatic fashion)? Was it all an act that he was in on with the Winchesters; cause there’s absolutely NO FUCKING WAY they could’ve predicted he’d flip on them like that for their magical plan to work. Not after everything Chuck’s done, killing Adam and Jack and leaving Michael to rot in Hell for eternity. And why would he suddenly go along with destroying the Earth when defeating Chuck would probably get Adam back (if that was his goal) which IT DID not to mention its his sworn duty to freaking protect humanity, hello? So his betrayal meant jack shit in the end as it got him killed by his fucking dad!! He’s brought back into the show only to be ruined forever and killed off in the stupidest fashion.

Moving on.

Jack Kline & Castiel. This iron-clad relationship has been in development for 4 in 1/2 years since before Jack was even born. And next to Adam & Michael its the other most healthy relationship on the show. Castiel, a million year old celestial being, spent the first 9 years of his arc on Supernatural following around the Winchesters, being torn between his loyalty to them and to Heaven. He rebelled when he was supposed to be a straight-by-the-book warrior of God. And he defied every rule in the process even when the odds were stacked against him. There was an endless rinse and repeat cycle of love, loss, betrayal and redemption when it came to his relationship with Sam and Dean. It made his character complex, interesting and layered but it still didn’t give him an arc that was his own. Castiel started out moreso being written as just the Winchester’s angel BFF/side-kick. Until Lucifer got Kelly Kline pregnant in 12x08 then things really took off. Before this, Castiel was a lost soul. His faith was broken, he was depressed, lonely, battered and rundown from years of being conflicted over the other angels and Sam & Dean. He felt he’d lost a sense of self and meaning in his life. And didn’t have a mission. Once he turned on Heaven’s orders, Castiel was a rebel angel without a cause so to speak. But like I said this changes the moment he meets Kelly.

Originally Castiel was suppose to kill Kelly in 12x19 because she was carrying the child of the devil and Nephilim are considered forbidden abominations. Told that if Lucifer’s kid was born he could unleash even more evil into the world. But instead of doing what he thought he should, Castiel decides to runaway with her. Choosing to protect her from all threats (Lucifer, demons, other angels, princes of Hell); this especially included the Winchesters. During this short time-frame the angel develops a strong, emotional bond with Kelly and her unborn son that stretches all the way to the S12 finale; to the point where it actually gave him a power-boost. From the womb, Jack appoints Castiel to be his father and protector and he’s given a glimpse into the child’s destiny that he’ll bring paradise to the world. A prophecy that the writers establish head on. This is an unusual circumstance because right here is where Castiel’s solo arc apart from the Sam & Dean takes shape. The journey of becoming a first time parent and guardian. Its a new kind of independence that for the first time has nothing to do with his friends or his family members/colleagues in the sky. Its his own personal mission that he willingly accepts, the second he connects with Jack from inside Kelly. Castiel immediately falls in love with him, before they even see each other; and adopts the boy devoting himself to keeping him safe. Making a promise to Kelly that would later become a vital plot-point in the seasons to come.  

Castiel literally risks everything (Heaven and Earth) to ensure Jack’s birth and ends up dead by 12x23′s startling conclusion. Leaving the newborn infant Nephilim alone in the care of the Winchesters going into season 13; scared, confused and aged into a seemingly 18 year old boy for his own protection. And Alexander Calvert who is a fantastic addition to the cast really brings something wonderful to this role; he’s like a breath of fresh air and a bright light in the middle of a dark room. Jack’s naïve, innocent and curious about his surroundings but also as Castiel once put it “remarkably intuitive”. Right when he’s introduced his arc is intentionally paralleled with Castiel’s. Their alien-fish-out-of-water beginning is practically identical as is their adorable stoic facial expressions. Like father like son. And this helps because while the angel is currently dead in the beginning of season 13, there’s an empty void he’s left behind. So Jack is kind of his temporary stand-in. Odd enough this type of switcharoo would’ve been considered very controversial but it’s handled quite well. Alex is so likable and charming I almost wish Supernatural had introduced him sooner. I mean I really thought I was looking at Castiel’s actual mini-me and not the son of Satan. But I digress Jack’s story in the first half of this season is pretty much about discovery and reuniting with Castiel. He’s a baby so everything is new to him but he’s also one of the most powerful beings in the universe destined for greatness which makes the Winchesters very nervous.

Jack remembers choosing Castiel as his dad which is why he already feels strongly connected to him. Its a bond so powerful that it actually resurrects Castiel out of the Empty the first time. Something Chuck himself was unable to do (that was until the mess that is 15x19). When they’re finally reunited the payoff comes so naturally. Misha and Alex have such a phenomenal onscreen chemistry starting with that first hug; they really play off one another so well that it doesn’t feel like two angels interacting but a genuine father and son duo. So much of what makes Jack and Castiel’s relationship so relatable, deep and endearing is because of what the actors bring to it. But they’re not just a fascinating relationship, they’re compelling on their own too. Both trying to find their way in the world and within the Winchesters’ lives. Death is no stranger to either of them (tragic being that Jack is only a toddler). They’ve each experienced their own personal pain, traumas, life lessons, mistakes and decisions. The biggest for Castiel would be his deal with the Empty to save Jack in 14x08. While for Jack it was the consequences of said deal that would lose his soul causing him to accidently kill Sam and Dean’s mom in 14x18 as a result (something that Jack struggles with immensely to the brink of depression from so much guilt and regret that he’d rather die). Repercussions that would follow into the shows final season. What’s interesting about this deal though is that Castiel made it on parental instinct alone not as a promise to Kelly. He chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of his son as a selfless act of love and kept it a secret from Sam & Dean until his death in 15x18. That’s the extent how much this child meant to him. The other great thing about their family dynamic is that it parallels nicely with the Winchesters. Castiel and Jack share this unconditional love that can never be broken. its even greater than their ties to the Winchesters themselves just as Sam & Dean’s love for each other is greater than any of their other relationships. They would do anything for each other. Castiel would go to the ends of the earth for the little nougat baby because that’s his son.  

Each time these characters were faced with danger or died, Castiel and Jack were overcome with extreme devastation and distress. That said its not just pain that binds these two its happiness. Jack is the best thing that ever happened to Castiel. Literally becoming a father to that child saved him. It brought him back to life, restored his faith and gave him a sense of self-worth and hope he’d long since abandoned. And for Jack, Castiel is the best dad he’ll ever have! He gave this baby comfort, wisdom, nurturing, strength. Was always there when he needed him whether it was to talk or to have his back. No other person in Jack’s life has ever made such an important impact nor made him feel more safe and loved than Castiel. Even when Jack had done such a horrible thing to Mary alienating himself from his family; it was Castiel’s unyielding devotion to Jack that ended up being his salvation. This was huge because once again he’d chosen over the Winchesters proving that no matter what (whether it be the world ending) his son comes first. So when Castiel’s pact with the Empty finally comes due in 15x18 you’d think it’d have an earth-shattering affect on Jack in 15x19. I mean for the first bit it does...until he becomes God. Then its like to hell with that relationship. Castiel is a complete afterthought to Jack and the rest of TFW in this episode. JACK DOESN’T EVEN GET TO GRIEVE HIM PROPERLY. And he just lost his dad because of a deal he’d made a year ago for him. A DEAL JACK HAS BEEN FUCKING DREADING WHILE HE WAS SOULLESS MIND YOU. And when he finally has the power to bring him back, he doesn’t? Jack just walks around with a conceited smirk on his face, bids Sam and Dean adieu and fucks off. I mean who gives a shit right, its only your dad that you love more than anything. This was extremely OOC given that time in 14x14 Jack nearly lost his shit when Castiel got infected with gorgon poison; the anti-venom wasn’t working so Jack resorts to using his powers putting his soul at risk.

I mean if he was so limited to helping Castiel in the Empty AT LEAST FREAKING CLARIFIY THIS TO THE AUDIENCE. This is not about shipping a certain pairing btw. Jack becoming God is not the issue its his characterization after the fact. His first instinct would’ve been to save his dad above getting in touch with the Earth. Yes we knew this transformation was coming it was foreshowed way back in Season 12. Does that justify bad writing or character assassination?? HELL NO.

This is what I’m talking about, episode 15x19 deliberately butchers these characters and their relationships. It shat all over them. No one is behaving like themselves. The pacing is wonky and inconstant. The script feels like it underwent several rewrites and I swear there were scenes cut out. The acting is off too and maybe the pandemic could be blamed for these things but it ultimately falls on the writer. Buckleming screwed up by showing us they don’t know who the hell these characters are, their motivations nor do they give a rat’s ass. And its noticeable on screen. I’ve known better fanfiction writers for SPN than these guys. It’s like they all came back to work but just didn’t care to put the effort into it. That’s why people like me are upset and we have every freaking right to be. Some of us have been with this series for the entire 15 year run. I at least expect these characters to be handled better and for things to make sense. 15x19 doesn’t and its not satisfying its just a cruel joke. The writers and Dabb should be embarrassed to have put this out there thinking we’d just swallow it and shut up. But far as I’m concerned the only thing this episode serves is to disrespect and ruin everybody while angering long-time fans.

MICHAEL. ADAM MILLIGAN. JACK KLINE AND CASTIEL DESERVED BETTER. And that’s the tea.

[twdbegins]

Morning Challenges

 __

Simon x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language.

Word Count: 1,669

“You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

__

“Five more minutes?” You begged.

“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Simon replied.

“Please?” You pressed on.

“I can’t, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Simon usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.

And you weren’t happy about it.

“Simon,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”

You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.

“You have work too, you know.” Simon pointed out.

“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.

You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his toned core.

“Don’t you have a pass for a day off or something?” You questioned.

A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“Yeah, something like that. I’ve been holding off on using it,” Simon answered; “Been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Simon’s facial hair scratching at your skin.

“Is it?” He acquired.

His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.

“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.

“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Simon replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”

You shrugged.

“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.

He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work. Although, staying in bed all day was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.

“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your t-shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.

You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him. 

“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Simon being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”

Simon’s hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.

“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be. 

You had to admit, Simon usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.

“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.

You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.

“Please.” You whined.

He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.

“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”

His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.

You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Simon’s head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.

He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.

“Darlin’...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance. 

That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.

“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”

Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind. 

You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.

He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.

“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”

Simon grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Simon was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.

But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.

His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.

Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.

His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing  softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Simon’s gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.

Perfect timing.

“A promise is a promise.” Simon grinned, his chest still heaving.

Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.

“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.

Simon’s dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.

“Promise?” He asked.

You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.

“Promise.”

[perzawa]

→ happy birthday!

jumin han x fem! reader

desc: after a wonderful birthday spent with your family, you think that was all the night had to offer. that is, until jumin gives you just one more surprise. 

genre: smut

warnings: degradation, pet names, squirting, very very small mention of past trauma

word count: 2.8K 

“now are you sure i can’t drive you both home? i’d love to say goodnight to my daughter in law that way,” the chairman said, kissing your hand. you didn’t oppose him dropping you guys off at home, but jumin consistently pleaded that he’d call a cab for the both of you and that was it. usually, when jumin had his mind set on something - no one could change it. so why object?

both you, and jumin, stood outside - patiently watching multiple cars pass by on the road. subconsciously, you rubbed the side of your arm, still in awe from the afternoon you spent with your family. it was your birthday, after all, so everyone decided to surprise you by taking you out. jumin originally planned to take you out alone and spend time with you himself, but mr. chairman objected, deciding everyone assumed it would be more respectful to wish you a happy birthday to your face. 

who were you to say no? 

jumin must’ve cared a lot, because he could really care less about being anywhere with his father and his new girlfriend of the year. or, for the week, he would say when he complained to you. she seemed extremely sweet, though, and was equally just as pretty. her hair was a radiant shade of blonde and her body was curved, dress exposing every corner of her figure. you could see why he’d be attracted to her in the first place. not only that, but she spoke with such elegance. words flowing smoothly anytime she opened her mouth to take a sip of her red wine. maybe you were a bit naïve, but you’d trust her with your life. 

jumin didn’t share the same thought process, sneering at her whenever she so much as asked if he wanted the salt and pepper shakers to be passed to him through the air or slid on the table. you couldn’t blame him, especially with the history he bore with his father and his unique taste in women. now, Jumin would never call you an idiot to your face, but when you didn’t have a problem with the women his father courted that particular time, he’d make a few comments under his breath about how you needed a lesson in not being a fool to obvious tricks. 

what could you say? seeing the best in people was your forte - for better or worse. that is how your relationship with jumin evolved, isn’t it?

“what’s got you so lost in thought?” he inquired, peeking over at you after a moment of checking his watch. the same one you got him last christmas.it made your heart swell to see him still wearing it. 

“oh, nothing,” you smiled back at him, rocking on your heels. “just really grateful you guys took me out. thanks, baby. i could use this.” 

he scrunched his eyebrows. “of course. it's your birthday.” 

“i know, but still.” you stared at the sidewalk with a small grin plastered on your features. you never actually celebrated your birthday. growing up, your parents were too busy to even remember most days, so you’d spend that special day cooped up in your room with your sister eating whatever you could find in the refrigerator until they arrived at home, crashing in bed as soon as they stepped foot in the house. the cycle always continued, for both you and your sister. jumin knew this. it was the first thing you told him when he tried to have fun with you on your last birthday. 

“you’re sweet.” he muttered, feigning a nonchalant attitude - when really, he was ecstatic to spend the day with the love of his life. 

“the day isn’t over yet,” he spotted the car pulling up in front of you both and held his hand out for you to take, taking your hand gently. “there’s still one thing i wanted to give you before your day is over. okay?” 

heat rose to your face, inciting you to smile wider than before. “a surprise? aw, jumin. you’re so sweet.” you lightly tapped his shoulder to showcase your gratitude, demeanor changing. the man only nodded and opened the door for you, both of you walking in together. it didn’t take long before you arrived home, jumin paying the cab before he took your hand once you both left the vehicle. he reached for his keys, slowly unlocking the door. thin arms pushed the large door open, jumin now smiling over at you once he witnessed your calm demeanor shift into a happier one. one that was more excited and a bit confused. 

you walked in slowly, your eyes watching the red lights and roses leading up the staircase. sure, it was a little cliché, but if jumin did this for you, it was special. 

“how? h-how did you have time?” you choked on your words, expression lighting up as you viewed the lights - eyes gazing over every crevice covered. 

“i paid jaehee,” he stated plainly, observing you for any other movements or hidden emotions. 

you blinked at him. you’d really have to take her on a spa trip after this to apologize. hell, if you knew it was his sadly overworked assistant, you’d just prefer to decorate the house yourself. 

“go on,” he spoke, motioning up the stairs. with patient breaths, your feet slowly stepped up each stair, different flowers on each shiny step. daisies, roses, chrysanthemums. they were so pretty - your heart swale in awe. 

“baby…” you whined, reaching the first room, your bedroom. your shaking hands twisted the handle on the door and pushed it open. now, there were candles here. they illuminated the large room, floor full of roses. heavy hands found themselves clutched over your heart. your grin widened, imagining all of the effort put into this. into pleasing you. 

you bit your bottom lip, strutting closer to the large bed you shared with your lover. there, two different toys had been placed on the sheets. you blinked at them and then blinked at Jumin, turning to face the toys again. “i-,” you trailed off, a clear understanding of what the surprise was now. you gulped, face burning in embarrassment now - eyes wider than ever. 

the tall man walked closer to you, stopping once his body was pressed against your back. he held onto your waist gently, his fingers tickling your soft skin in the dress you wore. 

“you’ve been working so hard, kitten. every single day,” he whispered in your ear. observing your shy, but welcoming reaction, he continued. “let daddy relax you.” 

you breathed out. “o-okay,” you whispered back. your body twitched at his lustful words, eyes focusing on the vibrator and purple dildo that stayed still on the sheets again. jumin held on tighter to your hips, pressing soft kisses to the sides and the back of your neck, whispering a compliment with each kiss. 

“you’re so pretty,” he whispered, kissing your earlobe. 

“and you’re all mine.” his quiet voice tickled the hairs on your skin, a quiet chuckle rumbling from his mouth. he swiped his tongue along your warm neck. 

“i want you so much. every day, i promise...”the man with raven hair admitted, voice low as he assaulted your neck, kissing the sides while he left purple bruises to blossom along your skin. a small moan fell from your lips and you leaned your head to the side - allowing him access. 

“so glad to have you. i’m so happy this is the fourth birthday i’ve spent with my baby.” 

you could feel a rush of blood speed between your legs, pussy gushing with arousal. you rubbed your legs together to abstain some type of friction on your clit, whining when his hands freed themselves from your waist. 

“i wanna see something. do you trust me to make you feel good, y/n?” even after four years together, he always made sure you were comfortable with everything taking place and you couldn’t help but respect that. this wasn’t your first time with him, but every time was always so perfect and comfortable. words couldn’t describe the type of man he was to you. you nodded eagerly, crawling on the bed as the mattress croaked. 

“wanna watch you play with yourself. would you like that, too?” his sultry tone caused your breathing to hitch, “you want that? you wanna see me stroke myself to you playing with that pussy of yours?” you caught a chill from the vulgarity of his word choice, nodding again. your body burned with lust, face just as hot as the rest of you. you grabbed both toys and positioned yourself on your back. biting your lip, you spread your legs and slid your panties down, kicking them to the floor. your dress was pulled up, exposing the heat between your legs, slick trailing down your thighs. 

“you get this wet from me barely touching you? god…” 

his words were like serums full of pleasure, causing you to gush more slick from your cavity. you’d never used a toy a day in your life, but it seemed easy. even then, you were an avid porn consumer. your diligent fingers pressed the plus sign and clicked it until the vibrations were as high as you needed them to be. jumin’s breath died in his throat as he viewed your sinful act intensely. you pushed the head of the vibrator to your aching clit, screaming from the pleasurable shock. jumin, palm pressed to his clothed cock, chuckled darkly - as he watched your innocent face contort into pure debauchery. the touch sent electricity into your body, empty hole gaping over nothing. you were quick, prodding the artificial cock against your opening to gather enough slick before pushing it in, the stretch sending you into another shock. your body arched off of the bed, eyes rolled back into your socket as you moved the vibrator around your sensitive nub, twitching with each roll of plastic on your body. after finding a good pace to fuck yourself at, you bit your lip and looked down at jumin. 

the man was almost moaning himself, palming his hardening cock, eyes lidded and pooling with lust while he watched you stuff your wet channel, wishing it were him. the overwhelming drag of the plastic against your milky walls caused your eyes to tear up, small, salty tears falling as you cried out, toes curling and uncurling the sheets beneath you. you could feel an overwhelming shock build in your stomach as you forced yourself to stare into the dark eyes of your lover - husband watching you fuck yourself. thrust after thrust, your pussy almost reached its peak - body still lustful and needy. the tears on your cheeks began to dry as the bud in your stomach snapped, walls spasming while you came over the plastic. 

jumin groaned, throwing his head back after painfully watching you have your way with your own body. he bit his lip and crawled on the bed, snatching his tie and hauling it across the room - jacket and shirt following after. your breath had died down now, body still wildly twitching, vibrator still assaulting your overused nerves. you whine, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth, stomach bubbling with pleasure again just to witness jumin watching you with such intensity. you could cum again and again just watching him watch you. 

he snatched the vibrator from your grasp, turning the toy off as he threw it on the ground. the dildo followed. 

“you’re so good, kitten. so, so good. you want daddy’s cock this time? are you ready - you okay with that?” 

still buzzed out, the most you could do was moan and nod eagerly, fingers running through your slit to gather slick on your digits, bringing them up to your husbands lips. wet eyelashes blinked up at him, tears drying a bit while newer ones still damped your cheeks. he took them into his mouth, sucking your fingers clean. with his tongue swirling over the thick liquid, jumin groaned, palming at himself from your taste alone. 

“please, jumin. hurry, i’m gonna get so wet again, please. please, please, please, i want you so much.” the words fell so easily from your lips with little to no hesitation. in such a state of babbling, you could care less about what you were saying - as long as your husband played into your blissed-out fantasy. 

wasting no time, he unbuckled his black pants - slim fingers wrapping around his thick cock. you backed into the bed frame, legs still spread wide, eyes glued to jumin’s cock. he groaned, rubbing his cock up and down your pussy to gather enough lube, wetting his dick enough to painlessly slip in. you gaped over nothing, fingers traveling down to rub your sensitive bud. jumin scooted himself closer to you, lifting your ass up in order to line himself up with your wet pussy, cock slipping in slightly. his head filled you, body heaving while you threw your arms around him. he pulled you into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist as he replaced your spot against the bed frame. “fuck…” 

you could cum on the spot just from feeling him inside of you. just from feeling the head of his cock hit against the hilt of your pussy, walls swallowing his entire cock in an attempt to draw the man in deeper. the shocks of your stretched walls made you convulse, body shaking in pleasure and agony. 

“shit, you feel so good. so right. always,” he spoke in fragments, huffing out his breaths with each word he attempted to speak. you buried your nose into his neck, his hips thrusting upward, cock continuing its assault inside of your pussy. loud cries of antagonizing pleasure rang through the home, your nose now buried into his shoulder, grinding yourself on his lap. jumin gripped your ass, thick length working inside of you while your slick dripped to the shaft of his dick.

“jumin - god, so good. you feel so good,” you grunted, slipping your arm between you both to snake a finger down to your sensitive clit, pussy spamming around his hard length. jumin moaned, both of your pants and gasps of neediness bubbling in the air, loud enough for you both to hear each other but not high enough to receive a noise complaint. 

“kitten… fuck, your pussy’s - fuck, a mess. did I get you this wet?” he asked through strained moans and quiet grunts. 

embarrassed, your mouth instinctively stayed shut, simply rocking your heavy botty along his - meeting each quick thrust. 

“answer, good girl. go ahead. shit - know you’re embarrassed,” he pressed his moist lips to your neck, gripping your hair with one hand. you released a small moan, edging him to go on. he gripped the strands, “i know you want this. tell me who got you this way, tell me how much of a slut you are for me.”  

“jumin - please, you. you, you, you, you, you. god, fuck - i’m so fucking wet for you. feels so good inside me, gonna cum.” 

he thrust his cock into you at a faster place, the tip of his cock hitting against your g-spot. more tears rushed down your eyes and he wiped them away, whispering praises in your ear while he fucked his load into you, the branch in both of your stomachs snapping. for the first time, you’d both cum at the same time.  

jumin grunted, his hips stuttering inside of you, making sure no cum would escape. 

“gonna push this as deep as i can. make you a mommy.” you moaned at the implications that he would impregnate you, the thought causing your body to begin shaking, his quick-moving cock sparking a different feeling, an overwhelming one. you could feel the heat rush to your pussy, your body sore - but you kept fucking yourself onto him. couldn’t stop even if you tried. a warm feeling bubbled in your stomach, nails raking his pale back, marking him as yours and no one else’s. you clenched your toes, a clear liquid gushing from your pussy and onto the bed, wetting his chest in the process. You instantly fell backwards, head hitting the sheets on the bed with a loud screech.

your pussy twitched, his cock now slowly removing itself from your cavity while you laid exposed on the bed, breathing erratic and sped up. 

“squirting all over me. what a bad girl.” sweat rained down your forehead, as well as jumin’s, body paralyzed from the excessive amounts of pleasure rushing through you.

jumin pulled you off of him and was now on his knees, cock soaked in your juices. the over sensitivity made him groan before he tucked himself in. the man with raven hair leaned down into your ear, kissing your earlobes before whispering. 

“happy birthday, slut.”

[deltastorm101]

things i learned about myself during my second year living alone.

- time management and good planning is everything. and i mean everything. - get in the habit of using an actual spectacle cloth instead of your scratchy shirtsleeve. your glasses WILL thank you. - you know how time and dates stop being real when you're on holiday and you sleep and wake and do shit whenever you feel like? changing work shifts are like that too, even if you do sleep roughly around the same time and just your free time slots alternate. you'll find this really cool for some time. stimulating. new. different. until it gets a little too blurry, but that's okay because your life isn't a complete pile of shards anymore and you can stomach minor inconveniences. - "eat healthy, be active, sleep enough, don't do drugs, take your meds"... it all sounds cliché but oh my GOD is it ever so true. fuck. some rules you just should not break and caring for your body is one of them. - don't eat too close to bedtime. - you can sleep longer when you get into the habit of getting out of bed faster. - i dislike tea with cherry in it. practically everything with artificial cherry. just,, ew. - train your intuition. be in tune. listen. - i can be cold-blooded if something is pissing me off for too long. - fruit is amazing. it's sweet, easy to eat, colourful, full of vitamins. mother nature's candy. it's great. - your time perception changes the older you get. a few years ago, a year seemed long. two years, three years, did you mean eternity? now it's like... oh going to uni might take 6 years? why the hell not, i've got time, it'll pass, let's go. - go outside! - things end. some things should end. letting go of bullshit is good. life has seasons, cycles, phases. embracing this is hard, but worth it. - i still hate vaccuuming, but i found out why... i don't know how to change a dust bag. the more i vaccuum, the higher the chance it'll be full and i can't do anything about it. is that pathetic? you decide. - my right knee is weaker than my left. i should probably get that checked out sometime lol - you’re doing great. cut yourself some slack. life is hard. compare yourself to others only if you think it’s doing you good, but stop immediately if it doesn’t. - maybe the people were right when they said heat is worse than cold. i still hate winter for how it makes me feel, but summer is definitely not as good as i remember.

happy september. i think i would really like to be awake for it this time, which is a huge step in the right direction.

[pastorpresent]

Sam knows it isn't functional.

The dynamic him and Dean have at the minute is... beyond fucked to say the least, and he knows it's going to crash down into a pile of flames and ash at some point, probably seriously hurting them both, but he can't seem to find a way to fix it.

It's easier to just watch the flames slowly creep up the metaphorical dumpster pile that is their relationship.

It was a horrible feeling, though. Horrible because it's not one he had ever experienced before. Even when he left for Stanford, he never believed that Dean hated him for it. He knew his brother had been pissed, and maybe he had a right to be because Sam had essentially ditched him in a horrendous life with just their father, but he knew deep down that Dean didn't hate him.

He had still checked in with him, after all. Even if his brother still didn't know to this day that Sam had indeed caught him sneaking around Stanford every month or so.

Now, he genuinely believed Dean did hate him.

And that was Sam's fault too. He shacked up with a demon. Chose her over him. Got so doped up on demon blood and power that he started the damn apocalypse.

Hell, Sam hated himself for it all. He would be surprised if Dean didn't.

But it was sort of an elephant in the room. Dean didn't want to have a heart to heart, and Sam didn't want to push in fear of what would be said if he did.

So, it was all just... passive aggressive. Sometimes outright aggressive because neither of them had a great grip on their emotions.

And Sam had thought all that resentment would put a stop to the... not so brotherly moments of their relationship, but it didn't.

They still fucked. Anything soft and intimate about it was gone, though. It was all just angry sex. Dean refused to even kiss him during, and Sam would be lying if he said that one didn't sting.

They fell into this frustrating cycle of ignoring one another. Immediately after a case, Dean would head to a bar. Sam would head back to the motel and do research, more of an excuse he told himself so he could say he was absolutely not just waiting up for Dean.

His brother would come back a few hours later stinking of whiskey and Sam would make a dissaproving comment. Dean would shoot back with some hurtful remark until they were shouting in each others faces, and just as it got to be too much Sam would find himself shoved against a wall with Dean's hands working to remove his clothes, refusing to meet his lips.

Tonight, Sam really didn't want to play their stupid game. He was over it, and he wasn't going to let it happen again.

He didn't do research. He showered, got changed into something comfortable and went to bed instead.

He was woken a few hours later by Dean's voice in his ear.

"Sammy..."

It was gentle, and the use of the nickname was startling. Dean hadn't called him that in months.

Still, Sam kept his eyes shut.

The bed dipped next to him.

"Sam?" Dean gently shook him, hand clamped on his shoulder. Sam kept his eyes closed, kept his breathing even.

There was a small sigh and the hand left his shoulder, although the dip in the bed told him Dean himself hadn't left.

There was a creak and the mattress shifted slightly. Two arms wrapped hesitantly around him, and Sam felt himself being pulled back slowly until his back was flush against Dean's chest, until he was wrapped up in his big brothers arms for the first time in... God knows how long.

Too long, evidently, from the way Sam's breathing caught.

Dean must've noticed, because he went rigid and tense, ready to jump away if he thought Sam was awake, but Sam quickly got a hold of himself and forced himself to relax again. After a few seconds Dean did too.

"I love you Sammy. Fuck... I... I've been a dick, haven't I?" Dean's voice was rough with emotion, much to Sam's surprise. He didn't know how much Dean had drank. Didn't know why he could only say these things to him after midnight when he believed Sam was dead to the world and he was doped up on alcohol but...

Sam didn't know much about their relationship lately.

"I don't... I'm trying. I'm trying to... forgive you, all that crap. The apocalypse shit was on both of us, I could move past that, but..." Dean trailed off, the thought going unfinished. Sam didn't need him to finish it.

But Ruby.

How fucked were they that Dean could forgive him for jumpstsrting fucking armageddon, letting literal satan roam free, but not for choosing a girl over him?

Maybe it was time to invest in a damn family therapist.

There was a good few minutes of silence. Sam honestly thought Dean had just finally passed out, but then he spoke again.

"Night Sammy. M'sorry."

It was accompanied by a small kiss to his shoulder, and Sam had to stop himself from leaning into it.

The next morning when he woke up, Dean was in the shower, and the bed opposite looked quite purposefully unmade and messy.

Sam wouldn't have suspected a thing had he not been awake and witnessed everything last night, and he honestly wasn't certain if the previous night was a first time thing.

[ddarker-dreams]

Aspiration Part 2. Yan Chrollo x Reader [COMM]

click here for part one! 

“You’ll hurt your neck if you keep craning your head down like that.” 

What good it does to chastise you on an insignificant action like this is beyond you. There isn’t much else to do until you land in this “unknown” destination that he’s spoken of earlier, yet the thought of entertaining conversation with him doesn’t feel appealing either. Being kidnapped will have that effect on you, he shouldn’t expect otherwise but seems to. 

“Nothing a few painkillers won’t solve.” you respond with forced disinterest, flipping to the next page of the magazine Chrollo gave you earlier. It feels like a minor loss to entertain him with a response, your cold shoulder treatment temporarily lifting. 

You’ve read this magazine at least three times by now, hoping that giving your mind something to focus on will steady you in reality. The lackluster stories about summer sales, latest keto recipes, and what celebrities have been up to lately offer none to little substance. Yet your eyes continue scanning them dutifully as if it’s a sacred text recovered by a forgotten civilization.

Letting out a small yawn, you continue to read until you get to the familiar final page once again. Fully intending on completing the cycle of rereading it, Chrollo interrupts this by plucking it from your grasp before you get the chance. All you can offer in return is a halfhearted glare and grimace. 

“Hey! I was reading that.” you protest with a frown, feeling vulnerable without anything to hold onto. 

He ignores your agitated exclamation, placing the magazine out of your reach by his side. “I don’t believe you’re missing out on anything of importance, seeing as you’ve read it multiple times already.” 

Huffing but not humoring him with a response, you cross your arms and stare out the window. The clouds below you are an enticing sight, still not enough to maintain your attention for the remaining thirty or so minutes of this flight. When traveling, it’s always the last amount of time before reaching your destination that feels like the longest.

Chrollo lets out a disapproving sigh at your actions, then pulls back his sleeve to check the time. “It won’t be much longer. I’ll attribute your current behavior to being hungry.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” you finally look over at him, lips pursing indignantly. “And there’s the fact that I’ve been kidnapped by an A bounty criminal and am currently heading to god knows where at four in the morning.” 

“You’re by all means welcome to rest.” 

How he can calmly rebuke all your thinly veiled sarcasm is a special talent, like water off a duck’s back. You don’t want to admit it, however, you’re grateful he isn’t hotheaded and offended by your boorish remarks. Watching your tongue would be how any sane person would deal with a threat like this… then there’s you. Making poor decisions and winging it. A life motto, really. 

An invitation to rest your weary eyes isn’t easily declined, an alluring proposal. His presence makes it a challenge to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, that state leaving you entirely vulnerable. When you’re awake you have some tandem of control, even if it isn’t much. 

“Where exactly would I do that? I don’t see any beds in here.” You emphasize your rebuttal by glancing around the room you two occupy, as if one would materialize at your words. Now that would be a useful nen ability, if he happened to have it. 

Chrollo smiles, in a way that doesn’t sit well with you. “Why not rest on my shoulder?” 

“W-whatever happened to your previous care over the well being of my neck? That’ll just hurt it after five or so minutes.” you stutter back, face flushing as his lips quirk further upwards. Amusement is dancing within his dark eyes, drawing out further discomfort from you. He seems to like exchanges like this, flustering you with the same ease as breathing.

“Painkillers. You said it yourself,” Chrollo throws your previous statement before you, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. “I’d be happy to get them, if that’s the only reservation you have about sleeping on me.” 

Inhaling sharply at his teasing assault, you close your eyes to prevent yourself from doing anything foolish. Gritting your teeth and balling your fists by your side, you remember why you were giving him the cold shoulder earlier. Talking to Chrollo is exasperating, all of his composed words like needles in your skin. Not wanting to swat at the wasp nest any further, your mind starts drifting, in a last ditch effort to distract yourself. 

It’s been an eventful night. The most memorable night of your life, if you’re being honest. You had always acknowledged and accepted the risks of looking into the Phantom Troupe. The stories of their unabashed cruelty served as an appropriate warning. Playing it close to the chest usually entailed fear of death, so never in your wildest dreams were you expecting… whatever this is. 

At least it beats dying? So you’ve got that going for you.

There isn’t anything you can do now, is what you’ve been telling yourself. Playing along with his whims is all you can think to do. It isn’t the ideal situation, but your only option now is to wait for an opening for escape. Even though Chrollo has more strength than you, he is still human. The thought offers a glimmer of encouragement, knowing that people aren’t infallible. You’ll take advantage of any weaknesses you can find. 

Getting more information out of him is a path worth pursuing for the time being. 

“I hope we’re not camping,” you murmur, shuddering at the horrific thought. “Bugs eat me like I’m the last supper.” 

“We won’t be camping. And despite the name, the last supper isn’t actually the last time the disciples ate.” There’s something extremely ironic about a murderer correcting you on this. 

“Please forgive me for not being up to date on biblical theology. I’ll be sure to correct that before the next test,” you deadpan before a realization hits you. “Wait, so what exactly are we doing? How am I even allowed to be on this blimp without my passport? God, none of this makes any sense…” 

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask. To answer your questions, we’ll be staying at a hotel for a few weeks. I know some people in the area who are interested in purchasing what was stolen earlier.” Chrollo explains with a casual air, smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt. 

It all hits you again. This is really happening to you. An inescapable reality where you’re at the complete mercy of this man, who despite showing no interest in harming you, is fully capable of doing so. Your contempt style of speaking until now has been a pitiful defense mechanism to help you cope with the extremity of this situation, not doing anything aside from momentarily distracting you. Running a hand through your hair, you feel your heart pounding within once more.

Chrollo takes note of how you shift in your seat, and tilts his head. “I understand this has been quite a lot to process. I meant what I said earlier -- about having no intention to harm you -- unless you do something that forces my hand.” 

He smiles, the warm action not matching up to the dark implications of his words. It makes your blood run cold, how a monster can wear the skin of a human. There isn’t any benefit of getting yourself further worked up, so you continue rambling on. Life is all about testing the boundaries of what you can and can’t get away with. 

“I still… don’t really get it. I know I was looking into information about you guys, but in that case, why not just,” you gulp, fearful that saying it will solidify the possibility. “Kill me? Even more so now that I know more.” 

For the first time all night, Chrollo doesn’t offer an immediate quip in response. He carefully considers your words, in a way that leads you to believe he doesn’t entirely know the answer himself. It’s not that you have a death wish, yet your curiosity is overwhelming. Whenever he does decide to grace you with an answer, maybe you’ll find out something that’ll prove useful to escaping in the future.

“There’s no simple reason that’ll satisfy you. You piqued my interest, and that’s a dangerous thing to do with a thief,” he leans over, clearly assessing you as you back away in response. “I confirmed my suspicions when we spoke earlier in the car. So for the time being… I want to observe you.” 

He was right when he said the answer won’t be satisfactory. His response leaves more questions than answers, some of which you don’t want to delve into. Backing down from this befuddling conversation, you focus on something else.

The soothing night sky outside elicits butterflies in your stomach. Darkness allows for the city lights beneath to stand out, little twinkling dots of light growing closer as the blimp descends. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you’ll be on the ground soon, a sense of claustrophobia constricting you in this room with no escape. His suffocating presence doesn’t help on that front. 

Chrollo is finally considerate enough to leave you to your thoughts. Within a few more minutes you’ve made your landing, leaving through a private terminal with what has to be forged ID. A black car rental car is waiting for you outside the airport, Chrollo opening the door to the passenger seat for you. The gentleman-like act almost causes you to roll your eyes, but you’re far too exhausted to do anything other than sitting down obediently. You’ll save the cheek for a later time. 

He shuts some luggage into the trunk, then starts the car with a low hum, driving off to where you presume the hotel he mentioned earlier is. Looking out the window, you squint as the sun begins to rise into the sky. Your eyelids grow heavier by the second, in spite of how desperately you cling to consciousness. Eventually, the world around you grows distant, and you’re lulled into a deep slumber.

Dreamless rest is stolen from you, Chrollo gingerly shaking your shoulders and bringing you back to cruel reality. Letting out a low groan at the unwelcome interruption, you feel like swatting his hands away. “What… oh, it’s you.” 

“Good morning to you too,” If he’s bothered by your unenthusiastic greeting, he doesn’t show it. Taking out the keys from the car, the vehicle ceases making noise. “We’re here now. You did mention wanting to sleep on a bed earlier, didn’t you?”

Craning your neck to look out the window, you see only about half an hour has passed since you first fell asleep. Outside is a grandiose looking building that must be your hotel. As much as you hate to admit it, you find yourself staring at what has to be the very expensive venue. Much more than anything you could ever hope to afford. While you’re appreciating the sight before you, Chrollo gets out to get his luggage. 

That’s right. What are you supposed to do for clothes anyways? All of it’s stuck back at your apartment, and you don’t think Chrollo was generous enough to pack for you. At least a hotel will have toiletries, so that won’t be a concern. 

‘Oh well. I guess we’ll cross that bridge once we get to it.’

“Do you need me to carry you?” Chrollo calls over from the curb, two large suitcases in hand. You realize only one of them has a lock on it.

Not even humoring him with a response, you get out of the car, keeping your distance from him. To your understanding, attempting to flee or signal down anyone will earn “unwanted consequences”, or at least that’s how he put it. It’s one thing to endanger yourself in a daring escape, but you can’t justify putting other’s lives on the line. 

Morning chill prompts you to wrap your arms around yourself, warding off the cold. Following Chrollo’s lead, you head through revolving doors into a breathtaking lobby. Warm, yellow light from a glass chandelier basks the room in an ethereal glow, accenting the white marble flooring. He walks up to one of the employees behind a desk, checking in and getting a key to the room. 

In the liberating few minutes away from Chrollo, your eyes sweep the surroundings for any openings. Is it possible to make a run for it for one of the cars outside? He’s fast -- you’ve seen it for yourself -- undoubtedly more than you. Such an obvious attempt at escape will only be met with failure. The lobby is wide open, no possibilities for hiding evident. 

‘There goes that idea.’

Your insistent glancing around the area must’ve given you away, Chrollo placing a warning hand on your shoulder, and giving a firm squeeze. “Let’s head to our room. You must be exhausted by now.” 

Once again offering no signs of protest, you head to an elevator together. Chrollo hits the button with the highest number on it. Ascending upwards, you watch the lights around the rims of the buttons with interest until it reaches level thirty. The elevator adds to your dizziness, a fuzzy feeling budding in your head. 

With a ding, the door opens to reveal a long hallway. Chrollo checks the number on his key once more, before navigating to a room.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he opens the door to your shared suite. The lobby clued you in earlier that this is no cheap hotel, the suite confirming that. Since it’s at the top of the building, the entire city is visible to you. It’s a breathtaking sight, one that keeps you entranced as Chrollo shuts the door behind you. Looking out the window, you see more signs of life as the morning progresses.

The glass opens up to a balcony, the handle locked and cold to the touch. It’s probably not a good idea to walk out without permission, not sure of the act could be interpreted in a negative way. 

Chrollo takes a place by your side, a little too close for your liking. Amidst the beauty before him, he’s more interested in looking at you. “I take it you like the view?” 

“I’ve never been in a place like this,” you tell him, eyes wide and mouth agape at the breathtaking scenery. “If I had known we’d be staying here, I would’ve let you kidnap me sooner.”

“That’s a joke, by the way.” 

He chuckles lowly at your rushed cover up, thinking little of it. “Are you hungry?” 

Now that gets your attention. You can only imagine how wonderful the food here is, and you haven’t had anything to eat since your dinner last night. Having gone so long without food you’re surprised you aren’t ravenous, the kidnapping likely stunting your appetite. Still, you won’t be turning down the offer. 

You nod your head to confirm his words. Chrollo walks over to a phone in the room to place an order for room service, quietly listing off a variety of breakfast foods. While he’s occupied doing this, you look around what will be your residence for the next few weeks. He must not take any issue in your wondering about, seeing as he’s covering the only possible exit. How considerate of him. 

While he’s busy placing an order, you wonder off to take in your surroundings. From the door that leads to the hallway is a small closet on the left, and an expansive kitchen in the middle of the room. To the right of which is a living room, all surrounded by glass windows. That leaves your sleeping arrangement. 

Saving the bedroom for last, your fears are confirmed. You realize that even in such an expansive suite, there’s only a single bedroom, with a king sized bed. Luck doesn’t seem to be on your side. Well, it’s not like you can’t sleep on the floor or couch if the opportunity presents itself. A nagging voice in the back of your mind tells you Chrollo won’t allow for that, unfortunately. 

Plopping yourself down on the right side of the bed, you could almost melt into the comfortable mattress. Tempting as it is to fall asleep, you don’t trust Chrollo enough to give that a shot. Frowning at your fancy evening wear from the previous night, your previous concern about not having any clothes to change into returns. The bathroom did have a fluffy, white robe in it. 

‘That feels too vulnerable... I’ll take my chances with the dress.’

Getting up before you fall asleep, you look around for anything that might be useful. The phone in the living room might be an idea, if you could somehow call and alert the staff of your predicament. Something tells you Chrollo has already taken that into account, and you write off the idea as soon as it appears.

Speaking of Chrollo, he enters the bedroom with an inviting cart of food in front of him. Everything from hashed browns, scrambled eggs, pastries, pancakes, bacon and waffles sit atop silver plates. 

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got everything. Help yourself.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you grab a plate and go to town. Chrollo grabs a steaming cup of tea, taking a sip and sitting down next to you. The bed creaks underneath his added weight, you too occupied with eating to care about the implications of his action.

He raises the glass to his lips. “Is there anything else you want to ask me, [First]?” 

Swallowing your previous bite, you give his question some thought. There is plenty on your mind that you’d love to know. A better, more conclusive answer for why he kidnapped you at the top of that list. You recall how he looked detached from reality when you asked him about it on the blimp, leading you to believe that asking again will earn a similar result.

‘It’d be best to play it safe for now.’

“Yes, actually,” you take a bite of a blueberry muffin, wiping your mouth before continuing. “Am I supposed to wear this damned dress for the remainder of this... arrangement?” 

"As lovely as you look in it, no. One of the suitcases has clothes for you, among other things.” 

Blinking at this new information, you wonder if he ever intended on telling you this. In your short time of being acquainted with Chrollo, you’ve picked up on how he rewards you for conversation. Humiliating as it is to play along with his tune, you’ll have to do just that. 

“Other things...?” you repeat back in a faint murmur, showcasing your confusion by tilting your head. Chrollo nods his head in affirmation to this, setting his now empty tea cup on a nightstand with a faint click. 

“You strike me as the type to want something to do, so I went through the trouble of procuring a few of your belongings. A few books, and the like.” 

‘Ah. How terribly considerate of him.’ 

It’s not much, but knowing you have some of your personal possessions is comforting. Anything is better than being stuck alone with him, or your thoughts. The worst possible case scenarios. 

Your meal now finished, you get up and place your dirty plates back onto the tray. Chrollo continues relaxing, eyes still following your every moment. How is he not exhausted? The only thing keeping you awake is your fear of what could happen when you’re asleep, and even that is beginning to wane. Maybe some caffeine will help with that. 

“I’m gonna get my stuff.” you call over, holding your breath in anticipation of a response. 

At his lack of protest, you assume this action is approved of. Helping yourself to the suitcase without a lock on it, you unzip it to find it’s just as he said. Some of your clothes from home, your switch, books, a few offline games, your favorite perfume, shampoo and body wash. 

It’s creepy to know someone went into your residence and took your stuff, but that’s the least of your problems right now. While grabbing a change of clothes, a thought hits you. Looking up towards the phone Chrollo used to call room service earlier, your hand twitches by your side. It’s a temptation, taunting you over the possibility of freedom. 

‘He’s in the other room relaxing. Maybe, just maybe I have enough time...’

Cautiously, as not to alert him of your scheme, you begin to silently tiptoe over to the phone. Time feels like it goes slower, not even trusting yourself to breathe in fear of him hearing it. Hand hovering over your possible saving grace, your fingers grow closer to pressing 9. 

That’s when he appears in the corner of your eye, leading you to hurriedly bring back your hand and straighten your back. 

“I already cut the wires. It was a good idea though.” he calls over from the doorway, leaning against it and smiling in a way that makes your stomach curl. Not a single detail has gone overlooked, but what were you expecting from a mastermind criminal who has managed to go this long without being caught? 

Checking to see if his words hold any merit, you find it’s just as he said. Wires cut in a single clean motion, biting your lip as your hopes evaporate in front of you. 

It reminds you of Tantalus. Who was cursed to be hungry and thirsty forever, in the taunting reach of food and water that’d recede whenever he went to partake in it. An eternal punishment you’re now being subjected to. 

‘I should’ve known it wouldn’t have been so easy. Still, how could he have not made a single sound? I didn’t even hear the bed creak.’ 

Laughing nervously at being caught, you step back as to avoid further consequence, cheeks flushing at being caught in your measly attempt. “Just... checking to make sure all is in order, aha...” 

Walking away from it, you look to change the subject. Chrollo doesn’t seem bothered by your defiant actions, having clearly already anticipated your idea. He rolls out the cart from before, leading you to stiffen when he walks past you. Heart pounding away in your chest, you silently observe him opening the door to place it outside. 

He looks back at your anxious form after shutting the door. “I’d rather not have to constantly monitor you. Whether or not I do will be determined by how you act.” 

There’s a thick pressure in the room from his words, one that pushes down on you like a heavy weight. Unable to maintain eye contact with him any longer, you look to the side, clutching your clothes to your person. Chrollo doesn’t have to resort to infuriated threats or physical violence, his presence commanding enough on its own.

To ease the tension in the air, Chrollo speaks up. “If I happened to leave out anything you need, let me know.” 

Grateful for the change in subject, you nod your head in a daze. From now on you’ll have to be more discreet. Mentally slapping yourself for not giving your earlier actions more consideration, you move on at Chrollo’s lack of reprimanding. 

“Is it alright if I get changed?” you speak up, voice meek enough to remind you of a mouse. Chrollo considers you before nodding his head. You jump at the opportunity to be alone, borderline running to the master bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

Looking in the mirror, you see your frowning reflection staring back. Placing a hand to your face, you inspect the bags forming underneath your eyes. Peeling off the dress feels heavenly, using a wet rag on the sink to quickly clean your body. Showering with a murderer in the other room isn’t a tempting proposition.

Putting on your clothes, you feel like a new person. Straightening up your hair and splashing your face with cold water, you place your hands onto the cool marble counter top. 

‘I’m going to get out of this. It’ll be okay, [First]. Stay calm.’

Finishing your mini pep talk, you fold your previous outfit and place it on the floor. Will Chrollo even allow someone into your room to clean it? Not that it matters, seeing as you spotted a washer and dryer earlier. 

He’s sitting up in bed when you open the door, a book now in hand. At your presence, he looks up to acknowledge you. Chrollo’s dark hair frames his face, and you flush at his admittedly handsome appearance. How are you supposed to remain composed in his company? 

“I can close the blinds if you intend to sleep.” he offers before turning to the next page of his book. 

Oh, that’s right. Now that you’re wearing pajamas he must assume you want to sleep. The next hurdle of this headache inducing dilemma, Chrollo having the expectation of you resting next to him. Eyelids feeling heavier by the second, you wonder how much coffee would be necessary to keep you awake.

That’d still be delaying the inevitable. Coffee or not you won’t be able to stay conscious forever. Earlier, when you fell asleep in the car, he didn’t do anything weird... right? Nothing that you can account for. 

He looks up at you, noting your lack of response. Unfreezing from your prior stiff position, you make the decision to sit down next to the bed. Chrollo most likely wants you where he can see you after your previous stunt, and sleeping on the floor isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Aside from the back pains. 

Making yourself comfortable, you fully intend to fall asleep on the floor. Chrollo closes his book at your antics, coming over to your side of the bed and frowning. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to sleep.” 

“... On the floor?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” 

Unreadable grey eyes pierce through your being, sending chills down your spine. From your previous interactions with him, you thought a measly sign of resistance such as this one wouldn’t matter. Your initial assessment must be incorrect, as he sends you a disapproving look.

“There’s no reed for that.” he reasons with you, leaving little room for argument. Not wanting to give in, you remain planted in your spot. Without wasting anymore time, he gets up and crouches next to you. You wonder if he’s going to chastise you further for your childish actions. 

He instead lifts you up in a single, fluid motion. A small noise of shock leaves your lips at the sensation of being hoisted up, scrambling to clutch onto him in fear of falling. It doesn’t last long, as he places you down onto the bed with gentleness that you didn’t expect him to have.

Arms receding back to his side, Chrollo returns to his previous position as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. You feel your face burning, a bright red glow coupled with it. The scent of his cologne lingers, memory of his touch flustering you further. 

Clearing your throat to play off the events, you still can’t manage to look at him. “I was planning on sleeping here, actually. Was just testing the floor out.” 

He opens his book back up to its previous page, lips quirking into an amused smile. “I’m sure you were.” 

Having no other options, you lay on your side facing the wall. Muscles taut and incapable of relaxing in his presence, you squeeze your eyes shut to no avail. All you hear is the gentle hum of the air conditioner on the wall, and the occasional page flip from him. 

More time passes, at a snails pace. An hour ago you would’ve entered slumber easily, now it taunts and eludes you. Huffing at your inability to rest, you adjust yourself against the soft mattress. 

Sighing quietly in defeat, you attempt to make conversation to pass the time. “Do you not ever need to sleep?” 

“I’ll be fine for a while longer. Are you concerned for my well being?” You can imagine the smug visage on his face, clear as day. It’s tempting to want to bite back with no, you’re not very worried about his health. You bite your tongue and instead ignore the teasing.

Sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest, you look over at him. His guard is still on high alert even while he’s reading. There’s an immeasurably gap in strength between you two, accented by his casual demeanor. 

“That makes two of us. I don’t feel tired now,” you narrow your eyes in his direction, wanting desperately to know what it is he’s thinking. “Something tells me we’re not going to be sitting here all day.” 

“For a majority of it. I’ll consider taking you out for dinner if you continue acting agreeable.” 

Tempting you with food, huh? It’s a most valiant effort, one that almost threatens to win you over. Especially since cities always have a variety of nice restaurants to choose from. Giving his proposition some thought, you realize there might be a catch. There always is with these kinds of ordeals. 

“What is your definition of... agreeable?” 

Disliking the way the word feels on your tongue, you purse your lips. Dehumanizing is how you’d describe it, knowing that your actions are being analyzed and studied. If Chrollo notices the bitterness in your voice, he doesn’t feel a need to mention it.

“I don’t care much for labels, but I’d equate it to wanting to date you. I told you earlier that I had taken an interest in you, that’s what I meant.” Chrollo explains to you with ease that tells you how much thought he’s given it.

When he had told you he was interested in you earlier, you thought he meant it in an entirely different way. Like how you find a certain movie interesting or entertaining. Now you’re unsure what to think. Mind swarming with thoughts ranging from maybe it’s a good thing, to what do you do now? 

Finally, you deliver your eloquent and delicately woven response, having put every level of care into it. 

“Oh.” 

Glancing over at your dumbfounded expression, he can’t help but laugh airily at your mortified look. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

[abby-abs]

Finding the light

Gif not mine

summary: Abby rekindles with the reader who she was close to while in the fireflies at Catalina island. After the attack in the hospital, Abby thought she was dead but finds out she was alive and living here.

AN: the rattlers never found lev and abby and ellie never left to go hunt abby down. so everyones safe and happy. enjoy. :)

“Abby?”

Abby turns at the sound of her name. Dropping what she was holding when she sees y/n. She looked different from the last time y/n saw her, she was taller, her hair was longer in her signature braid, but the thing that changed the most was that she was broader, her body more muscular with scars all over it.

“Y/N?” They run towards each other embracing in a tight hug. “Is it really you y/n?, I thought you were fucking dead.” She sniffles.

“You thought I was dead?I thought you were dead. You just ran off that day when you heard the alarms. I’d thought I’d never see you again.” Y/n holds her tighter crying into her chest.

“I thought so too but here we are. How did you...”

“Survive. After you ran off the older soldiers began to swarm saying something about a mad man on a killing spree. Shortly after I heard what happened. Abby, I’m so sorry about your dad I...”

“You don’t have to apologize for.”

“But I do I left you there alone I didn’t even go to find you to see if you were okay. All I could do was run until o found myself in the parking lot. I saw him. I saw a man shoot Marlene. It looked like they were arguing, but he had a girl in his arms. The girl Abby. He put her in a truck and went back to shoot Marlene point-blank in the head. I couldn’t do anything I had no weapon I just stood there frozen. He didn’t see me though he just got into the car and drove away as fast as he could. I didn't know what to do next so I ran away as far as I could.” You paused taking a deep breath. “ how’s Manny, Owen, Nora, Leah, Mel, Jordan.”

Abby cringed at the thought of her friends. She seemed to forget about Leah and Jordan or Nora who practically risked her life freeing her from the elevator so she could help Yara. She wanted to assume that they were fine but by the looks of the map, Ellie had for tracking them down says otherwise. Mel, she could give two fucks about, Owen alongside her but Manny who was one of her absolute best friends was gone. She absentmindedly rubbed her face where his blood was once splattered but then she remembered Lev, the reason why she was here. He kept her alive and sane after what happened at the theater. Y/n notices the shift in her expression.

“Oh Abs.” Her voice was shaking as she tears up. They were her friends too, long before all this craziness of revenge. They grew up together, trained together, laughed, snuck out, got drunk together, passed around a pathetic excuse of a blunt, and got high together. Abby knew Y/n probably spent countless hours mourning them thinking that they all were dead.

“We found him. That man you saw, his name was Joel Miller. We tracked him down and I was able to find him.” There was a strange feeling in Abby’s stomach when she said that. She knew that the fight was over and she got justice for her dad, but mentioning it after all she’s been through,  how much she’s grown as a person all resurfacing but she knew that y/n didn’t mean any harm after all she had no idea what happened over the last seven years. “He’s gone no. We.” Abby looks down pausing briefly “I took care of it.”

“Good, Jerry was a good man he didn’t deserve what happened to him.” Y/n saw Abby rub her arm like she used to do when she was uncomfortable all those years ago. So y/n took it as a cue to change the subject. What have you up to for all these years. I’m mean staying not the whole murdering of that Joel guy.” Y/n stumbles on her words.

“Well me and the others found this group called the wlf and lived there. Almost all of us did rounds patrolling the area while Nora and Mel worked as doctors. And you won’t believe this, I was roommates with Manny”

“Manny! Of all people. God that must have been horrible”

“Eh, I think I slept more times in the library than my own bed.”

“Still was on his sexscapades?”

“Like a feral rabbit.”

“How did you even get roomed with him?”

“Alphabet. Alvarez, Anderson with no one in between equals roommates.”

“Damn the alphabet.” You scold jokingly she laughs but goes back to rubbing her arm so you quickly changed the subject. “Well, I when down to Arizona saw the Grand Canyon.”

“How was that?”

“Just a bunch of rocks but definitely beautiful. You would have loved it.

“If I didn’t die of a heart attack from..”

“Yeah yeah your crippling fear of heights.” Y/n interrupted.

“You know I still hate it when you”

“What finish your sentences.”

“No cut me off rudely”

“Call it what you want Abs you know you love me”

“Jeez, you sound like Manny.”

“I sure miss him.” She says in a melancholy tone.

“Yeah me too.” Abby copies her tone. “Oh y/n I want you to meet someone.” Abby turns to Lev who was watching the interaction from afar. “This is Lev. He’s a kid I saved”

“More like I saved you, Abby”

“Whoa, where did all this sass come from?" she says holding her hands out defensively Yeah, he saved me then I saved him and we’ve been partners ever since.” Y/n gave Abby a sweet smile. “What why are you smiling like that you're kind of creeping me out.” Y/n grins with a small chuckle pushing her cheek to the side.

“Look at you all grown up taking care of kids being the bigger person

“I’ve changed for the better. He helped me see that constant revenge will only throw us in a nonstop cycle of killing. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“You won’t Abby. I know you”

“You know fuck all.” she scoffs

“I know that you’ll keep it up. You're a people pleaser Abs, always have been.”

Abby chuckled. “How did you find this place anyway.”

“Helped a group in the Hollywood area with a nasty pack of clickers. They were heading this way and asked if I wanted to join. You?”

“We got a tip about fireflies grouping in a town in Santa Barbra. No one was there but lev spotted a secret door that led to a basement bunker. There was a working radio so I tried to contact someone. We’d thought we lost all hope when there was no immediate response but we got lucky I guess. We hopped into our boat and sailed straight here. You don’t understand how happy I am to see you again y/n.”

“So am I.” She places a hand on Abby’s cheek before pulling away awkwardly. “What house are you assigned to? Maybe if you’re up for I can take you two on a quick tour.”

“Yeah that sounds great, we’re in 574.”

“Well, would you look at that right down the street from me. I’m up at 579.”

“Perfect I can go there whenever Abby is bothering me.” Lev jokes.

Y/n laughs “I like this kid.”

“And I liked it better when he didn’t know what a joke was.” Abby quipped back at him lightly nudging his arm.

“Well, you both are welcome there at any time. Oh, How about you two come earlier, you're probably starving and have nothing to eat at home. I’ll make us dinner then we can head to the rations distribution to get some food for you. Then I promise I’ll be out of your hair considering that you that both tired from your trip.”

“That sounds great. We’ll see you then”

“Perfect how does six sound. That should give me enough time to prepare the food.“

They are ready to part ways but y/n pulls her into another into a hug, then pinches Abby’s cheek.

“Ow, what was that for?” Abby asked fake annoyance in her voice.

“Just making sure you're real.” y/n rubs her thumb along the the scar on her cheek. 

Abby feels a warmth fill up her chest. “C’mere.” she pulls her into another tight hug.

Moments that feel like hours as they stood in each other's arms quiet cries coming from both them. They finally part and say their goodbyes to go their separate ways.

Abby closes the door to her new house with a sigh. God, there was something about talking to y/n even after years of seeing her that felt so normal. Almost as if you’d two spent the past several years together and never had lost touch. 

So what’s going on between you and y/n?” Lev chirped causing her cheeks to burn up.

[ilytyun]

unideally yours // choi yeonjun

As long as you’re with Yeonjun, there’s no place you’d rather be. Even if it’s sitting across from each other while you chug beers at his kitchen table.

genre: fluff, friends to lovers !! also lowkey coworker au

words: 1485

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of underage drinking

a/n: happy belated to moa’s first love😭 i had a lot of fun writing this !!! i think i fell for cyj more than i already was ;;;

If someone told you this morning that you’d be ending your day sharing drinks with Yeonjun at his kitchen table, you would have laughed in their face. 

After all, you had the whole day planned to a T. Today wasn’t supposed to end with your work friend, it was supposed to end with your new boyfriend walking you home after a fancy dinner, telling you he had a nice time, and then kissing you goodbye at your front doorstep before making sure you got in safely. It couldn’t be so hard, it happened all the time in the romance movies you watched in high school. 

But alas here you were, rolling your eyes as Yeonjun laughs when you crack open your third beer for the night.

“You’re too much of a romantic. Isn’t this already the second time he’s flaked on you?” Your friend asks, taking a sip of his own beer. He scoffs when you ignore his question in favour of chugging down your freshly opened can. “That’s a bad sign. Break up with him before you get too attached.”

You take a few moments before parting from your drink, sighing in satisfaction at the refreshing sensation it left behind. It’s funny, you remember hating beer when you first sneaked a can from your uncle’s fridge as a teenager. Fast forward ten or so years and you basically rely on it like an at-home remedy. Well, that and a friend to listen to your misfortunes.

“I already beat him to the punch and dumped him. I blocked his number too, after texting him to say that it was over.” You paraphrase your actions, unconsciously swirling your can in a force of habit as Yeonjun nods in approval. There isn’t much liquid left to splash against the thin aluminum, but neither you or your drinking partner are too concerned. “And I’m not a romantic, I’m just an average, unlucky office worker with standards. Can’t I have standards?”

“Of course you should have standards, but your idea of what a relationship should be is too idealized.” Yeonjun’s advice seems more like a declaration. Especially as he sets his beer can on his wooden kitchen table with a contained force that doesn’t do much to scare you, but does enough to grab your attention. “Listen, men are horrible. There are already so many guys in this country alone who can’t even reach the bare minimum for standards everywhere.” 

A pout makes its way onto your lips. “So you’re telling me to just suck it up and settle?”

“What? No way. Never ever settle.” Yeonjun shakes his head in a strong disagreement to your question. “Instead, compromise. Relationships are all about compromise and you have the standards of an early 2000s romcom lead. You can’t be afraid of disappointment, but you’re only going to keep on being disappointed if you go on like that. You deserve someone who will treat you well.”

Though attentive to what he had to say, you don’t do much to react to Yeonjun’s commentary. You instead stare at the way his index finger circled along the top of his can while you formulate a coherent response.

After all, you couldn’t disagree more.

“I may have high standards, but I don’t think it takes a lot to make me happy. I’m not hard to please.” You start, your tone coming out surprisingly even.

Yeonjun quirks an eyebrow at your statement as you take a moment to take a sip at your drink. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you do it all the time...” You set your can down. “Making me happy, that is.”

The shift in atmosphere that washed over the two of you felt as if it came out of nowhere. As if it sneaked into Yeonjun’s one bedroom apartment through the window he’d opened to let the night breeze in. You don’t know what to make of it, but you don’t exactly hate it.

“What are you saying?” Yeonjun laughs. Not quite awkwardly but more… expectantly. He leans forward and folds his arms on top of the table. “Are you saying you’re happy whenever you’re with me? Even now?”

Especially now, you think. Especially now. Nothing about your current situation was anything near ideal. After all, you were sitting across from your coworker, chugging cheap convenience store beers instead of sipping an expensive wine at a fancy restaurant, but you don’t think you’d want to be anywhere else. Yeonjun isn’t your boyfriend, but you feel so much more at ease when you’re around him. So much more... yourself. How could that be?

Your eyes avert to avoid Yeonjun’s stare, and you unconsciously stare at his outfit. He’s dressed so much simpler than your own date outfit, having let you in his apartment immediately after you called him out of the blue. Of course, something about his beanie, sweatpants and t-shirt ensemble is endearing. Maybe because you’d only seen him in your workplace’s required attire of suits and ties. Maybe because you’re seeing a side of him that your other coworkers don’t get to see.

But you don’t say any of this out loud. You remember Yeonjun’s question, were you happy when you were with him? Even now?

“Of course.” You say, nodding without hesitation. “You treat me so well even though I’m only a friend to you. I don’t even know why I bother going out of my way to date around anymore.” At this point, you’ve finished your third drink. You knew what was running through your veins isn’t blood anymore. Just liquid courage. 

Yeonjun stays silent. You suddenly feel a warmth spreading through your cheeks. Was it because three drinks in a row really just hit you all at once? Or was it because Yeonjun’s gaze is heavy and unreadable as his eyes trail your every movement? You’re not sure if you want to find out. The suspense is killing you, maybe another beer would help.

But Yeonjun seems to think otherwise. He catches your wrist in a gentle hold before you could reach for another can. He doesn’t let go. His hands are cold, his demeanour seems like it should be intimidating but it’s somehow comforting.

“You’re already drunk?” Yeonjun asks.

You scoff, keeping your eyes locked onto how his hand gripped onto your wrist. “God, is it that obvious?”

“Then you won’t be able to lie to me.” Yeonjun’s voice is steady as he speaks. He leans in closer and tilts his head to meet your eyes. “I’m going to ask you something. It’s okay if you say no.”

You nod silently, keeping eye contact and egging him to go on. You’ve never been more attentive in your life. He blinks a few times before parting his lips,

“You like me, right?”

“Yes.”

Following your words, you watch in real time how Yeonjun’s once stoic expression morphs into a smile he couldn’t contain even if he tried. It reaches his eyes and softens every part of his otherwise sharp features. He looked elated; one hundred and ten percent satisfied by your answer.

All at once, the tension that had stuck itself into the atmosphere is released. 

“You too?” You ask quietly, a smile growing onto your own lips because you definitely know the answer.

“Obviously.” Yeonjun chuckles softly. Almost shyly. His grip slides from your wrist to your hand, and the way he intertwined his fingers with yours couldn’t feel more natural. “You put me through a lot. I’ve had to deal with you cycling through six different boyfriends even though I was right in front of you this whole time.”

“Sorry,” You giggle, enclosing Yeonjun’s hand into your own. “I knew there was a reason you always told me to break up with every one of them. No one would have lasted anyways. They weren’t you.”

“God, how cheesy. ” Yeonjun’s smile doesn’t leave his lips, even as he clicks his tongue. His other hand reaches across the table to pinch your cheek.

You laugh and lean in closer, only leaving a few inches between Yeonjun and yourself. “It comes with liking me back, unfortunately.”

Yeonjun scoffs. His fingers let go of your cheek and travel to play with your hair instead. “First I have to take care of your drinking problem and now this?”

“It’s not a problem… my desire to drink is what eventually brought us together!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Yeonjun snickers. His eyes seem like they’re looking at you in adoration, as if you’re the most precious person in the whole universe, and you realize that he’s looking at you the way he’d always had. You take it as a cue to finally lean in and close the distance between him and yourself.

Sure, today didn’t go as planned, but as you feel Yeonjun’s grin against your lips, you don’t think you could want to be anywhere else. You know this is where you belong.

[joviewinchester]

25 Days of Christmas Special!

Oh my god. He’s so pretty. I need help. My mom literally told me I’m gonna end up marrying a criminal one day and I was like. Oh. Thanks, mom. We have good times. Like if I shift to the Vampire Diaries you best bet I am going to marry a criminal but like here, eh. Maybe. I’m probably on the FBI watchlist at this point. Side note, I love Caroline but she’s getting hard core dissed in this thing so like I guess that’s a warning. Also sorry that this one is a day late. I had writers block.

3.) Secret Santa

“Why did you invite him?” Caroline asked Y/N quietly.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you. He was literally trapped alone in a prison world for years of his life. He hasn’t had any pleasant Christmases.”

“Oh, I don’t know why I’d be upset that you brought a sociopath that murdered his entire family.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why you’d be upset either but we’re all here for secret Santa, so I guess you’ll just have to deal with it.” Y/N sassed.

“Yeah. Merry freaking Christmas. I have a sociopath and Damon Salvatore in our house. Our house Y/N. Ours.”

“You really shouldn’t be upset. I’m pretty sure l am the only person in this house right now who hasn’t killed someone. Also, you literally look like you want to murder me right now, so you and Kai have more in common than I thought.” Y/N said. She patted her older sister on the back before leaving the kitchen where Caroline insisted on a sidebar.

As Y/N walked into the sitting room, she heard Caroline groan in frustration.

“You do know that more than half of the room heard that conversation, right?” Damon asked as Y/N sat in between him and Kai.

“Yep. Do I care? No.”

“I think you’ve been hanging around those two too much, Y/N.” Bonnie said gesturing towards Damon and Kai.

“That hurts Bon Bon. It hurts.” Damon said sarcastically placing his hand over his chest. Bonnie smiled but rolled her eyes.

“Well, now you made Caroline into the Grinch, so hopefully she doesn’t take it out on the rest of us.” Elena said.

“I heard that!” Caroline yelled from the kitchen. They all laughed under their breath. Seconds later Caroline came out of the kitchen carrying cookies, a light scowl planted on her face. It soon turned into a fake smile, you know one of those scary Caroline fake smiles.

“Hmm. I’m fine. I’m totally fine. This’ll be the best secret Santa ever. Who knows? Might even top Friendsgiving where Jo almost died on the couch. Such low expectations to meet. It has to be better, right? Right?”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s just put down the hot tray of cookies. That’s it.” Stefan said patting her on the shoulder.

Caroline let out a sigh, trying to calm herself. “So, let’s get started.”

The tension in the air was thick. Kai hadn’t said a word. Every time Y/N looked over he was on Twitter. At one point she almost laughed because she saw him looking at Ralph Macchio’s Twitter.

“Okay so, everyone knows how this works right? Give the person’s name you drew last week the gift. It’s simple seriously. If you don’t know how this works you’re an idiot.” Caroline said.

“Okay. So, the passive aggressive attitude hasn’t passed has it?” Y/N asked.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get this over with. Also, I’d appreciate if you found somewhere else to stay at tonight.”

“Rude. Yo, Damon, can I stay in one of the spare bedrooms tonight?”

“Sure. Problem solved blondie.” He said addressing Caroline in her least favorite way. She scoffed.

“I don’t get a say? It’s my house too.” Stefan chimed in.

“Do you have something to say to me there, Stef?” Y/N asked.

“No, I would just like for my brother to console me before having someone spend the night in my house.”

“Our house Stefan. Ours.”

“Oh lovely. Just what we need! Another sibling feud!” Elena exlclaimed.

“Okay, you know what? I’m just gonna go. I don’t want in the middle of this whatsoever. Elena, are you coming?” Bonnie asked.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” She said following Bonnie out the door.

“Great! Look what you did, Y/N!”

“What I did?! You’re the one that’s being a bitch!”

“You did not just go there!”

“I’m the oldest one Stefan! I make the decisions!”

“Well you sure don’t act like it, Damon!”

The arguments overlapped as Kai stood in the corner observing.

“Heh. Just how Christmas was at my house.” Kai smirked to himself.

Kai didn’t quite catch what was said that caused it to happen, but Y/N punched Caroline in the face.

She gasped popping her broken nose back in place. “Jerk!” She exclaimed.

“Bitch!” Y/N said back. She flipped her off and ran upstairs. Minutes later she came back down carrying a bag of essentials. “Have fun telling mom why I’m not home by curfew, you dumbass! Come on, Kai.”

He chuckled to himself a bit, then followed her. Not long after, they had arrived at Kai’s apartment.

“You coming in or what? You’re staying here now right?” He asked.

“I was just gonna like sleep in my car, but since your offering…”

“You’re welcome anytime your sister’s being stuck up and bitchy.”

“Oh so literally 24/7? Thanks.” She joked.

“Sorry you had to listen to that.” She muttered as they entered the building.

“Eh. I’m used to it.”

They entered his apartment. Y/N threw her stuff beside the couch. There was an awkward moment of silence before Kai broke it.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah. You wanna go to the Grill or something?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

They drove to the Grill and entered to see Damon at the bar drinking whiskey. What else was new?

“Stef kick you out of the house?” Y/N joked.

“Oh ha ha, Y/N. No, I just don’t want to deal with his bullshit. Well, would you look at that? You brought the psychopath with you.”

“Sociopath.” Kai corrected. The door swung open revealing Bonnie and Elena.

“Wow. We all try to avoid each other and end up in the same place.” Elena said.

“Well, merry freaking Christmas and a happy new year. My sister hates me. It’s 7:00 pm and I’m drinking. And I haven’t even stabbed anyone with a candy cane yet. I’ve always wanted to do that.” She mumbled the last sentence to herself. She downed a shot.

“Also you aren’t even 21 and are drinking in a public place.” Elena added. Y/N glared at her.

“You know, I’m starting to worry about your violent tendencies.” Bonnie stated.

“I think it suits her.” Damon smirked.

“I definitely agree with Damon for once in my life. It’s hot.”

Y/N elbowed Kai in the ribs.

“Ow. Why didn’t he get elbowed?” Kai complained.

“He wasn’t flirting with me.”

Y/N ordered some chicken strips and French fries from Matt.

“You’re such a child.” Damon said. “Oh I’m sorry I would rather eat chicken strips than a salad or a blood bag. I’m not a vampire or a real adult, Damon. You should know that by now.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot in the midst of everything. Merry Christmas, Kai.” Y/N handed him a Walkman and a cassette. “I made you a mixtape. I understand if you don’t like use it or anything but…”

“No, Y/N, I like it. Thanks…Wow. Ugh, I’m having that mushy feeling again. Gross. Feelings are hard.”

Bonnie and Elena gave each other a look. “Damon, let’s go play pool or something.” Bonnie said. Her and Elena forced him to get up.

Once they got over to the pool table, Damon glared at them. “No. No. No. We were doing damage control. Are you two seriously going to let your best friend fall in love with him?”

“Look, this could potentially make him less of a threat. Wouldn’t you like to let the issue fix itself for once? Kai has feelings now. He is in love with her. We keep it that way, he might not go on another murderous rampage.”

“How did you say that so nonchalantly? He has feelings because he literally killed his brother.” Damon said gesturing toward him.

“Oh god. They’re making out. That is literally disgusting. How are you all okay with this?”

“I don’t want to do something for once. I agree with Elena. Let the problem fix itself.” Bonnie said.

“You know what? Fine. I won’t interfere. I’ll just be watching. I’ll l be waiting because sooner or later this is going to bite you both in the ass, just like when she was with Kol. The cycle is repeating, and I’m not helping this time when you just ‘leave it alone’”

Damon left, and Bonnie and Elena both shrugged and started playing pool. “Merry Christmas Elena.” “Merry Christmas Bonnie.”

[luca-moreno]

Sometime after the phoenix dinner/before Op: Asteria… (sorry Luc)

The quiet hallways of the Berlin should be safe to walk in the early hours of the prime sleep cycle, even with a contingent of biotic super soldiers on board, because Luca counts them among his friends. They might not realize it yet, but they are. Part of the family Luca is cobbling together through loss and triumph and loneliness and war.

It should be a safe place… but it’s not.

The hands that grab him are unexpected - rough and wide and hard as they curl harsh fingers around the material of his fatigues and slam him bodily into the metal walls of the ship. His chest hits the metal a fraction of a second before his head does and the impact is jarring enough that pain blooms across his nose and he tastes blood in his mouth.

“Wha-“

“I know about Ontarom, you little bastard,” the voice snarls. Luca’s blood snaps ice cold at the sound of it. “You think you can hide it?”

Yamamotto. Of course the voice would be his. Suddenly his unexpected animosity towards Luca makes a horrible kind of sense.

“No, I- get.. get off-”

Luca’s head is pushed against the bulkhead again, a fist tightening painfully in his curls and pulling on his scalp. His nose stings and something wet runs down his chin. “Get off,” he tries again to struggle but the grip on him gets tighter and his protest comes out like a strangled gasp.

Yamamotto hisses. “I know what you did to your squad… How they’re all dead because of you.”

His head is shoved harder against the cold bulkhead and this time he sees stars. “No. No, it wasn’t-“

“Shut up!” Yamamotto slams him again just for good measure. “I’ve been watching you, you little prick. All buddy buddy with the captain, and the XO and the fury and those fucking Cerberus monsters-”

Luca tries to struggle but Yamamotto has one hand twisted painfully against his back, the other still in his hair. His legs shake and it’s hard to shift through the panic. But whatever Yamamotto thinks he knows, he’s wrong. He’s wrong!

“It wasn’t my fault,” Luca manages to choke out the words, but they emerge slurred and tinted with panic and a sob follows them. Oh, fuck, don’t cry, he tells himself. Don’t fucking cry!

“My cousin was on that mission,” Yamamotto continues, low and harsh in Luca’s ear. “My cousin, my best friend. And now they’re dead because of some crappy little engineer fucked up-“

It wasn’t like that! Luca wants to yell it, but his tongue feels too big in his mouth. Shame floods him, and leaves him cold deep in the core of him. He tries to ignore the ring of truth Yamamotto’s words carry. Yamamotto isn’t saying anything that Luca hasn’t already said to himself a million times before.

“The reap-“

“Why do you get the captain’s ear? After what you did? Why do they all look at you like you’re something special? You’re not, you know,” He snaps it violently, tugs harder on Luca’s hair. “You’re nothing but a piece of shit and now my family is dead-“

Yamamotto yanks him back off the wall and Luca stumbles, legs weak. The only thing holding him up becomes Yamamotto’s hand in his shirt and he blinks dazedly just before Yamamotto’s fist finds his face. He can take a punch, he’s been trained for that, but the brutality of this hit makes him question if he doesn’t actually deserve it.

“Fucking prick,” Yamamotto says again and Luca catches a glimpse of twisted, ugly features before he’s shoved again. “I’m going to make you pay for what you did. Have some fun then throw you out the fucking airlock.”

Luca gasps, ears ringing through the pain and chest heaving with panic that makes his vision static out at the edges. There’s a blessed moment of relief as Yamamotto readjusts his grip but its short lived when Luca finds himself spun and shoved back face first into the wall and the air rushes out of his lungs with the impact. He’s not sure how he manages to stay on his feet but Yamamotto’s weight on his back is heavy and suffocating and pins him in place.

“Yeah, you’re going to take what’s coming to you.”

Luca’s hearing might not be what it used to be, but sometimes, it’s horrifyingly better even through the buzz of the punches. He hears the rasp of a zipper, and the hand tightening around his wrist gets heavier. A chink of a belt buckle and Luca has been around soldiers trapped in a tin can in space enough to know what it means. Panic tastes like bile in his throat and he swears roughly, trying to dislodge the grip on his wrists but he only ends up lifted slightly then pinned harder with a snarl in his ear.

“No, no,” he wheezes it through trembling lips.

“Shut the fuck up,” Yamamotto hisses. “Or I’ll really give you something to cry about.” A hand slaps over his mouth, slimy and putrid, making him want to gag, but the weight on him is still too much to shake off. No, he thinks in wild panic, this can’t be happening. No, no, not here, not on the Berlin, not where he was supposed to be safe and he had people who cared and friends and-

Think… think! What had Eva told him? How had she got him to focus?

The box.

Think about the box.

Luca’s eyes squeeze shut. Everything hurts, it’s hard to breathe through the coppery tang of blood streaming from his nose but he calls to mind Eva’s face, her smiling blue eyes, her voice and the calm way she talks. It happens in increments but he allows his body to go weak. Yamamotto senses his compliance and crows in triumph. “Ha! I knew you’d be good for this I space ya.”

Luca blocks it out. Puts it into the box, puts each ache and thrumming line of hurt into the little square shape in his mind. It’s not easy, the panic skirts too closely to the edges threatening to pull him under, but he keeps trying. He keeps going until the grip on his wrist loosens and Yamamotto grasps greedily at his pants while fumbling at his own. Luca gives it one more second, one more heartbeat of Yamamotto trying to breathe into his ear before he allows his head to fall forward… He takes a breath, then snaps his head back with as much force as he can muster.

There’s a sickening crunch and a howl that Luca barely registers but the grip on him loosens. Yamamotto stumbles back a step, holding his nose and swearing. Luca uses the chance to run but Yamamotto is fast, kicking out a leg to catch Luca’s ankle and sending Luca crashing to the floor. He lands heavily, on one wrist twisting under him as sharp agony blooms up one arm. The slight distraction gives Yamamotto his chance and he latches onto Luca’s boot with a bloodied snarl, trying  to drag him back. Luca desperately scrambles, and allows the panic back in, allows the adrenaline to give him the strength he needs to draw back one foot and slam it into Yamamotto’s face. Hard.

There’s another howl of pain and a litany of curses but Yamamotto lets go and Luca desperately tries to clamber away, heart loud in his ears and breath rough in chest.

He stumbles towards the elevator at the end of the hall without looking back, half hoping, half praying he doesn’t run into any of the other crew before the realization washes over him that he doesn’t want anyone to know about this. He can’t. Yamamotto had targeted him because of that mission, the mission redacted in his service records, the mission no one was supposed to know about and Luca suddenly stops and wheezes in place when his mind skips through the rest of his life if it gets out.

And all he can see is being alone and shamed and scared once again.

He shoves a hand to his mouth to muffle the sob, tastes more blood and sweat. He shoves his shirt over his nose in an effort to stem the bleeding and wonders with an edge of panic how was he going to hide this. He could go to the medbay, but Kate would take one look at him and know he’s been jumped – there was no waving it aside with a mumble about falling off the Kodiak, or getting too carried away with training here and then it would come out why he’d been singled out. He couldn’t go back to his bunk, Harris and Davis were there anyway, and Braun and Thurman and Thompson would all ask too many questions and Eva and the XO or her brethren of biotics… No, he was already ordinary and weak, this would only make it worse… and the Captain – oh god, he would be a disappointment to Isaac too and that’s the most sickening thing of all.

No. No, he can’t risk any of them knowing.

He cradles his injured wrist to his chest, and hobbles into the lift, a split second decision taking him south into the bowels of the ship.

When he steps out, the cargo bag is blessedly silence and devoid of any activity. Luca goes straight for the shuttle, climbing painfully through the open door and towards the rear where he sinks down onto his knees. The flash of red through the grates in the floor fill him with relief as he pops the seal and painfully lifts out the medkit. He makes short work of applying the medigel over his face, sighing as the light tingle goes to work and half wonders how he’s going to replace what he’s used - he doesn’t want to be responsible for someone else not making it, carried back on a stretcher only to find no damn medigel waiting.

He couldn’t be responsible for anyone else dying. Senseless, needless…. Pointless.

Luca leans over and retches. Dry, heaving, blood soaked spittle.

And starts to cry.

[sepublic]

Infinity Train Tarot Deck!

           The idea came to me while discussing the Infinity Train and the idea of crossroads, which reminded me of the Wheel of Fortune tarot card in the Major Arcana! And naturally… This made me imagine Major Arcana tarot cards, themed after Infinity Train!

           The first thing we have is the Emperor and Hanged Man. Now in some stories, the Hanged Man IS the Emperor, after he’s essentially fallen or been overthrown; So it’s the Emperor’s ‘fall from grace’ (ba-dum tsss). So naturally… Simon Laurent is a PERFECT fit for this! That shot of him lying around on Grace’s throne with his new hair-down get-up is perfect for the Emperor Card, it’s him flaunting authority and royalty! As for the Hanged Man; It’s Simon hanging upside, clinging to the bottom of that bridge during the Season Finale… He’s doing the 4-shaped pose, with only one foot clinging to the bridge; The foot with the malfunctioning shoe, as the other one was used by Grace to fend off the Ghom. Simon, the Hanged Man, about to ‘fall from grace’, both in the literal and metaphorical sense…

           Next, we have Wheel of Fortune. Naturally this fits the Infinity Train’s wheels… They’re kind of a big deal, as a means of killing denizens, usually; But they DID come close to killing off Simon and Grace, respectively! The wheels of the Infinity Train keep it going, as the Infinity Train itself represents a crossroads, as befitting the tarot card! This was the first tarot design I came up with, and if I ever had to draw/design it, I imagine a morbid reference to denizens getting wheeled is in order.

           Next, we have the World! It’s about the finishing of a loop/cycle, before it begins anew, the end of a journey to start with a new one! Kind of like how Tulip ends Book 1 having finished her adventure on the Infinity Train, and is now heading to Osh Kosh with a new life and look in a sense! For this, I considered the ‘zero’ that a passenger ideally reaches, as it’s the end of their journey on the train, but the beginning of a new life after their ‘recovery’. Perhaps the zero can be fashioned like a globe? Alternatively, given the motif of loops/cycles, perhaps it can be an infinity symbol, comprised of the Infinity Train itself, with the wasteland as the background? Or it’s a passenger’s exit!

           The Lovers is obvious, it’s Amelia and Alrick! Their relationship was what set off basically every major conflict in this show, aside from the Infinity Train’s own existence of course! Its reverse meaning can also be imbalance and a misalignment of values, which fits with how Amelia’s love for Alrick and her ensuing grief led to her hijacking the Infinity Train, and indirectly causing Grace to start a cult whose whole purpose is to get their numbers up; Not just a misalignment, but an outright reversal of values!

           Next up is the Chariot! I’ve chosen the Infinity Train’s front car/engine for this… The Chariot is about willpower, action, and determination, and its reverse is notably a lack of direction… The Infinity Train’s engine pulls the entire structure, giving it direction! Notably, the Infinity Train itself is rather binary and controlled in its directions; Passengers can either get their numbers up, or down, representing a somewhat black-and-white view of ‘progress’.

           Grace is the Empress! This makes sense, she’s a counterpart to Emperor Simon, and the Apex’s true leader in both of its incarnations. Not only does this fit with Grace’s desire to be at the top, in-part because of her upper-class upbringing… But it also invokes ideas of femininity, beauty, and nurturing! And, Grace is definitely feminine, and certainly beautiful- Especially given the way she checks her compact mirrors often, as she’s someone concerned with her appearance to others on both a literal and metaphorical sense! But there’s also her essentially taking care of the Apex, trying to be a parental figure to make up for her own lacking parents!

           Strength is Hazel and Tuba! Not much else to say here, honestly- The image of a woman and her lion translates well here! One of its uprights meaning is compassion, which fits in with Hazel’s compassionate nature… Not to mention, Tuba is easily the strongest of our protagonists by a long shot!

           For Judgement, I would choose an image of Ghoms rising from the wasteland’s dirt! The art for the Judgement card frequently depicts beings rising from the earth… And in a sense, Ghoms could be interpreted as the Infinity Train, or at least the narrative’s judgment! Simon goes too far and tries to murder Grace in cold blood after she saved his life a second time, and right on cue, a Ghom appears to kill him! Ghoms are associated with Death, and Judgment and Death are intertwined…

           The Tower represents a mishap in journeys, so naturally I chose One-One atop that structure he was on in the climax of the Unfinished Car! That same structure of floating buildings that he’s standing on when Tulip talks to him, and finally gets the guy to snap out of his programming! The Unfinished Car in general represents ‘disruption’ in how the Infinity Train’s journey and plans are supposed to go, a break in its programming, especially as a result of Amelia’s unplanned hijacking of the engine! The Tower is chaos and revelation, which One-One causes and later undergoes in the Unfinished Car.

           Death is an interesting one for me. While its name implies some negative stuff, in the end it’s a card about change, about new beginnings, and its reverse represents those who are averse to that and want things to stay the same! I think a dual-image of Tulip and Amelia, one above and the other facing down, would work… Tulip boarded the Infinity Train because she couldn’t handle the changes in her life from her parents divorcing, and Amelia had the same reasons, amidst a more literal one with Alrick’s demise! There’s also the idea of including Simon as a skeleton, given how he straight-up dies as a result of his inability to accept change, one that goes further than Amelia’s ever did! If Amelia were to appear on this card, she’d be wearing her cloak to invoke the Grim Reaper’s image.

           Next up is the Sun, and it’s… Jesse! This one is fairly straight-forward, he’s a got a very bright personality and he’s brimming with positivity! Both times he boards/exits the Infinity Train, it’s daytime and outside; In contrast to Tulip and Amelia being at night, or Grace being indoors! And Jesse spawns in the Hill Car, which itself is a bright and sunny place! Not to mention…

           To complete the duality, we have Lake as the Moon! Jesse and Lake go hand-in-hand together, they’re inseparable if the Book 2 finale is any indication, their bond overrides the Infinity Train and even causes it to glitch! The Moon reflects the Sun, fitting of Lake’s reflective nature, and admittedly, what Mace suggested about Lake being a narrative parallel to Jesse as well! There’s the idea of confusion and introspection, which relates to Lake’s themes of finding her identity. She relies on trickery, both to initially dupe Tulip during her debut, and later to earn her exit on the Infinity Train!

           For the Devil, which represents the idea of entrapment, especially of those who could easily leave but choose to stay thanks to their own bad decisions… I’ve chosen either Amelia’s mech, or Mace and Sieve! Amelia’s mech represents her own willing entrapment within the Alrick-sounding persona she created, it’s representative of her refusal to let go of her grief and to move on- And it was made by her, representing how ultimately it was Amelia who had the power to let it go, but didn’t!

          Not to mention, the Devil as an archetype is used to represent corruption and the swaying of bad influences… Which fits in Amelia being a dark reflection to Tulip, luring her in with the promise of her own car with the ideal reality, and Amelia’s mech being the ‘false god’ that Grace later worships, setting her down the wrong path! The Devil could also be Mace and Sieve, as there’s the idea of being trapped in their roles and choosing it as Flecs, binding others with the law, etc. Not to mention Mace’s obsession with killing Lake, and Sieve’s determination to avenge his fallen comrade afterwards. Hmm. Perhaps the Devil card should depict both Amelia’s mech AND the Mirror Police!

           Temperance is a fascinating one to me. It usually invokes the image of pouring liquids, and involves ideas of good health, balance, cooperation, and teamwork… While its reverse meaning is the opposite as chaos and not working with others! This could be Alan Dracula, contrasted with Perry the Parasite… Alan Dracula is a fickle creature, and hard to get on your side, fitting in with the idea of teamwork and cooperation! But under Perry’s influence, he’s seemingly more cooperative…

          Only, Perry’s presence is causing poor health as Dracula’s body shifts rapidly, and him and Perry conflict over control! Perry himself isn’t such a cooperative guy after all, it seems. But then there’s also Randall… He’s water, invoking the image of pouring liquids! Water is a big theme with Temperance and going with the flow, which describes his personality, and his hivemind nature encourages teamwork from his very first appearance! Like with the Devil, perhaps Temperance can be both… A Perry-infested Alan Dracula at the Food Pyramid Car, with a river of water that’s actually Randall!

           Justice goes to the Steward! There’s the idea of being an objective force of decision, which goes with how the Steward is both helpful to the Infinity Train, as well as Amelia for a while, and a deterrant to our protagonists Tulip and Lake! It is a physical force for One-One, the conductor, and he is the one who ideally passes judgment in a sense as a construct of the Infinity Train. Justice is about being objective and not letting emotions cloud your decisions, which goes in hand with the Steward being a literal machine with no feelings. I imagine the image for Justice would have the Steward and its arm-tendrils holding the ‘scales’, and on either end is One-One and Amelia!

           Next up is the High Priestess, the one and only Samantha the Cat! There’s the idea of being intuitive, creative, thinking outside of the box, being both passive and receptive, as well as curious- Traits that go well with Samantha! Among the things it can represent is a woman influencing your life (AKA Samantha with Simon and Tulip), but also someone who just knows what’s the right thing to do- And as Samantha herself said, she ALWAYS does the right thing! Its reverse involves being disconnected and withdrawn, as while Samantha is social at first glance… We see how her close relationship with Simon ended. The High Priestess is also privy to sacred knowledge, which works with Samantha knowing a lot about certain characters and the Infinity Train, and how to get about!

           Atticus is the Hierophant… There’s the idea of being one for wisdom, tradition, institutions, that sort of thing! Hierophants are classy and educated people and are always willing to listen. Atticus is certainly a classy, cultured individual as the King of Corginia, and he’s arguably the wisest and most experienced of our protagonists! He is a leader, but also a follower, willingly supporting Tulip in her journey… And supposedly, the Bishop/Hierophant is one who stands up against Death when even kings falter. Atticus ‘dies’ and is reborn, he helps Tulip come to terms with change… He’s the first to attack Amelia in her mech, and a brief yet effective obstacle for Mace and Sieve!

           The Fool is… Tulip, this time with emphasis on her in particular! If the Major Arcana tells a story, The Fool is the very beginning, Card number zero… The Fool is the protagonist who goes through the adventure before ending with the World! Given my previous assignment for the World, the idea of ‘zero’, the beginning of a journey… Amidst the Fool also being an outsider with limitless potential, Tulip made the most sense! The Fool isn’t necessarily about being smart or dumb.

          Tulip is our first protagonist, the first character we see, and it’s her that starts off the entire series! It’s Tulip’s journey that sets in motion the events of Books 2 and 3, with her reflection becoming a person, and Amelia’s change of heart inspiring Grace’s redemption! She has the most conventional journey of our protagonists with a defined beginning and end that we’re present throughout… And some artistic depictions of the Fool give them a dog as a companion! So obviously this is Tulip, accompanied by Atticus, and probably One-One as well! Some depictions of the Fool also show them as a vagabond, which fits with Tulip running away with just a backpack of belongings, and how this lands her a ticket aboard the Infinity Train!

           For the Star, I think I’ll choose… A Passenger’s number, specifically one turning zero! In the Major Arcana’s story, the Star comes after the Tower, just as Tulip’s number goes down after the events of the Unfinished Car! It’s about light and hope amidst the darkness… Just as Tulip’s newfound resolve following Atticus’ transformation earns her the exit home, just as the glow of her palm acts as ‘guidance’ amidst the confusion and darkness of the Infinity Train. It’s a way home, and symbolic of recovery… So Tulip’s exact moment in the darkness of the Ball Pit Car, when her number reaches zero, makes sense! Since I’m going with a passenger’s number for the Star, this probably means the World will be either an exit and/or the Infinity Train in a loop around the wasteland.

           The Hermit is soul-searching, inner guidance, introspection, and helping others achieve that as well… So why not have the inner workings of the Tape Car, the process by which tapes are made with the help of those Mini-Ones, Porters shuffling about! Is in the Tape Car that the Infinity Train itself sees into one’s heart and the issues that’s plaguing them, and forms a measurement for a passenger’s number… It’s in one’s own tape that someone can confront their traumas, entering their own mind, and even talk to themselves! Perhaps the specific image would involve the old passenger whose pod Lake hijacked, but in the middle of his tape’s recording! As an old and experience dude, he -unwittingly- provided guidance for the younger Lake!

           And finally, the final tarot card for me to figure out, the Magician! This one will be… One-One! I know we already had him with the Tower, but it doesn’t hurt to have a repeat focusing on the little guy himself! The Magician IS Number One in the deck, after all! Some depictions have the Magician with an infinity symbol above his head… surrounded by foliage, the growth of new ideas, which relates to One-One’s association with Tulip and her ability to spring back from anything! It’s about new beginnings and opportunities, the Magician; And One-One provides this for passengers as the conductor!

          Some would even say the Magician, within the story of the Major Arcana, gets the ball rolling for the adventure and protagonist! Among the Magician’s traits are inspired action and power… One-One is in charge here (ideally), and his job is to help inspire passengers to make a change in their lives and recover! However, the reverse is manipulation, representative of the darker undertones to One-One’s job. Some depictions of the Magician have him with one arm pointed to the universe above, the other to earth below… So artistically, we’d see both halves of One-One, Glad-One facing up with Sad-One pointing down!

           Ultimately, these ideas aren’t exactly set-in-stone, and I’d consider reworking them to include even more imagery, characters, and scenery from the show itself! So any ideas are much welcome, appreciated, and encouraged!