#does its incredible i am just uhm. touched in the head <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[oysterie]

god like. there is a very specific thing in games i cannot do and its completely why i bought undertale on switch instead of just downloading it on the computer when games get messed up like the entirety of genocide rout ut ykwim. i cannot do that i cannot watch those compilations of hidden in the files game videos even as an adult they scare me i have to fucking close the video (i got re into them 2 years ago for a bit and had constant paranoia and seeing shit in the corners of my eyes and around me etc) like the scary faces added to stuff yeah but even like. the giant pastel easter egg behind that wall in the ps2 futurama game its so dumb but it literally ruins my life for 3 months after any exposure to that. especially on laptop i cannot play games on laptop/computer it feels so much more real idk why. like scary things in laptop are more scary than scary things in my tv. anyways all this to say that ive been consuming ut and deltarune lore and theory videos because i am insane and i cannot ever play genocide rout ut i watched the clip (part of a longer vid abt chara) where at the end they talk to you and then their face gets messed up i cannot do that idk if this is some pixel 4 year old they are apearing in my peripheral vision and like its not them its like other normal nightmare stuff that triggers my paranoia but for whatever reason im hardwired that fucking. video game easter eggs like hidden ones trigger it. i refuse to go to therapy so pretend i said all this to a therapist and then i get up and leave before she responds. anyways all this to say i hate my intense paranoia that is so easily triggered (by many things other than this) its not even delusions anymore there are simply so many things out there. welcome to my twisted mind i understand this sounds so like. minute and overreacting i get that but idk how to phrase that ive had periods of paranoia triggered by stupid shit that were so borderline dehibilitating like i couldnt drink if my eyes left my drink for more than a minute because of like. some box behind a wall in a sonic game and i was ocnstantly dumping out my drinks xoxo

[sapphicwhxre]

ASTERIA'S 2.5K FOLLOWER FIC REC LIST

i read fics just as much as i write them so here are some of my favourites. tysmsm for this milestone, i love you all <3 quick note: i didn't re-tag anyone if i recommended more than one of your works because of the tag limit.

───────── girls ─────────

hermione granger

tuesdays - @stupxfy

probably one of my all time favs for hermione. it's just so well written and adorable and fluffy and yes.

if i could tell her - @hellounicorn

pining, pining, PINING. the way these emotions and hermione's described is just... art. perfection. there's a happy ending and it is so worth the build up.

darling dearest - @dracolvr

fluffy goodness. read to be hopelessly in love with hermione ─ which, let's be real, we all are.

november rain - @pansydaisy

uhm i love this one sm. it's so simple but amazing ─ everyone has their days like this and having hermione to cure them? it's what everyone needs.

i need more - @15-dogs

i sobbed the first time i read this. it'll break your heart but it's so amazingly written that it's worth the sadness. actual gut wrenching / mindblowing writing.

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

the title. need i say more?

honeyed eyes - @minty-malfoy

HEAVEN. being hermione's first kiss as friend? but both of you idiots liking each other? oh my god, sign me up.

hugging her from behind - @pastanest

again, the title. read to feel 🥺💙

grey days - @pepperimps01

PANSMIONE 😌😌 it's angsty with a happy ending and i love it sm. this does such a perfect job of capturing pansy and hermione's relationship growing and having its ups and downs with just a few paragraphs. honestly so good

grenade - @hellounicorn

another one that'll make your heart shatter. but in the best way. these are the fics i live for where the you can't help but feel like it's really happening to you and hermione and god it's so fucking powerful. underrated writing right here in general. and also pansmione is the loml so it hurts in that way.

honeybees - @pansydaisy

fluffy aesthetic heaven.

lead the way - @teacup-tai

more pansmione but this is pure filthy thinking and satisfies all the sexual tension dreams pansmione shippers have.

two queens in a king sized bed - @shysneeze

domestic christmas morning with hermione and it's angelic.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

one of those blurbs i never imagined i'd read or love so much. not to mention it's spot on and adorable.

pansy parkinson

right and wrong - @starrkidmalfoy

a first kiss and the overdone trope that i will never get sick of, the bitch who's soft only for you. the descriptions in this are perfection and the writing is beautiful <3

messed up - @writseo

toxic, messed up love fics will be the death of me. insane how well you captured it all and i just yes damn fucking props.

pansy parkinson imagine - @moonlight-imagines

*screams* THE BEST FRIEND BANTER + THE ENDING OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ─ I SCREAMED WHEN I FIRST READ THIS. I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE IT.

dating pansy would include - @lotsoffandomimagines

ABSOLUTE POWER COUPLE SHIT and to this day, pansy saying "jealous much?" when being scolded for pda remains iconic.

grey days - @pepperimps01

as i said before: PANSMIONE 😌😌 it's angsty with a happy ending and i love it sm. this does such a perfect job of capturing pansy and hermione's relationship growing and having its ups and downs with just a few paragraphs. honestly so good

new rules - @silversslytherin

excuse me this is immaculate ─ pansy is the best friend and the second you see that she's also the best s/o, you're done for. perfection.

study "dates" - @turning-dreams-into-chaos

the title is self explanatory and this whole thing is fluffy heaven <3

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

read the title, thank me later.

lead the way - @teacup-tai

more pansmione but this is pure filthy thinking and satisfies all the sexual tension dreams pansmione shippers have.

traitor - @hufflepuff-writings

a masterpiece where pansy chooses the wrong side in the battle of hogwarts. this ties up so well and the writing is so powerful.

back alley love potions - @a-simple-imagine

this actually hurts but in a beautiful way. watching pansy give draco a love potion is such a fucking concept and this is executed incredibly.

my little bunny - @emmamarie7708

pansy making you do this is so dirty yet she's slightly sweet and i am a sucker for it. god is a woman and her name is pansy fucking parkinson.

pansy parkinson imagine - @moonlight-imagines

i'll let pansy beat people up for me all day. they put me in madame pomfrey's, feel my girlfriend's wrath.

ginny weasley

blissful - @enyastasia

fluffy ginny goodness. the friends to lovers? the amazing kiss? 🥺🥺🥺💞💞 this fic lives in my heart <3

bubble pop electric - @hunnypot-imagines

this is hotter than a lot of actual smut and the chemistry is so... wow. ginny weasley owns me.

dear ginny - @alyssamalfoy

how does this short ass letter manage to make me feel so much. it's sorcery but i don't even care, it's beautiful.

wildflower - @pansydaisy

will i ever get tired of cheeky i love yous? not when loves like ginny weasley and ayli's so so pretty writing exist.

all i want - @hellounicorn

ouch. fuck you harry :) quite possibly the best ginny fic i have ever read. insanely talented writing, i genuinely feel every touch of emotion you put down and you need to know how amazing that is. keep breaking my heart.

linny hcs - @bluebirdlinginthenest

who doesn't need good linny content in their life?

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

sexy bitch, fuck me up.

willow - @padmeamiala

ginny is the loml. her brothers can cry about it.

bellatrix lestrange

attempting to bake with bellatrix - @carters-coffee

MY FAVOURITE BELLA FIC ─ there's not enough bellatrix fluff out there but this makes up for the lack of. heaven.

bellatrix prompt - @carters-coffee

this gives me chills. she knows she's a bad bitch and that's what we love about her.

change of plans - @dumb-sbian

why THE FUCK have i not had a rainy morning with bellatrix? she can sleep and mumble something just like this and i'm still head over heels for her.

being tortured as bellatrix's girlfriend - @writings-of-a-british-fangirl

definitely a concept BUT this makes me feel some type of way and i recommend giving it a minute of your time 😌

bellatrix finding out you're a muggleborn - @carters-coffee

the beauty, the nuance omg. this is art.

bellatrix prompt - @carters-coffee

yep jealous bella. trust me, im all yours mommy <3

sex with bellatrix would include - @onegayastronaut

so short but... sign. me. up.

luna lovegood

never leave - @/deactivated

luna smut is hard asf to come by and this is my favourite. it's so luna and the pain over her not knowing, not getting that closure about how you feel until this is an amazing rollercoaster.

she - @hunnypot-imagines

the beauty of falling in love with luna, through this majorly talented writing. ten out of fucking ten. i will not elaborate but there's also majorly good association in this imo.

silver berries and flickering fireflies - @duskgrangers

i love this fic so much. she's so herself and that is why we ✨ simp ✨ and the scene set just sounds so prettyy

how the potter girls react to you in lingerie - @pottersanime

luna + this title? yes please, ma'am i am simping.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

put me in your pocket luna. im begging you.

dancing in the rain with luna - @/deactivated

only luna would get you a dress to go dancing in the rain and this is the stuff of blissful, fluffy dreams.

hugging her from behind - @pastanest

short and cute, do me a favour and read it :)

dating luna lovegood would go like - @glossymalfoy

life is NOT worth it if you don't read these cute little headcanons and imagine dating ravenclaw's baddest bitch.

linny hc - @bluebirdlinginthenest

like i said, who doesn't need good linny content?

cho chang

strawberry kisses - @pansydaisy

the only cho fic i've been able to find and it's SO WORTH IT. the cutest, it flows so well, and i absolutely love it. i need this with cho tbh.

fleur delacour

toutes les etoiles - @coffee--writes

im in love with fleur and this amazing writing. and for the first time since i started high school, my three years of taking french feel good for something.

being best friends with fleur would include - @harrypotter-imaginess

not romantic but actually so sweet pls. i want this friendship in my life so bad.

nymphadora tonks

dating nymphadora tonks would include - @imaginesforgirls

dating her + that warm little feeling of bliss that only HCs can give you

taking care of her after the war - @random-imagines-blog

this kind of hurts in that good ass way and i lovee it. they're simple hcs but i feel for tonks so much and then there's that warm lil feeling when you're the one to put her back together aand now my primary life goal is to help this woman heal.

───────── boys ─────────

harry potter

phosphenes - @minty-malfoy

ok shakespeare, the fuck?? this fic will never not get me right in the heart. the angst, holy fuck. and for once, the reader doesn't hurt harry and let draco walk all over them and it's just done so well. the transition from a toxic relationship to a sweet, loving one PLEASE. it's beautiful.

happy memories - @15-dogs

how does this manage to be so. smutty and fluffy at the same time? this is one of those short ones that has lived in my head, rent-free since i read it. and tbh any fic that includes expecto patronum is guaranteed to be good.

come back to me - @wondernimbus

right from the beginning, it's a mess of emotions both good and bad. that kind of good ass writing that hits you in the heart <3

making out with harry potter would include - @badfvith

read this title. done? now thank me later.

harry prompt - @thoseofgreatambition

harry x a sarcastic swooning bitch is an elite trope idc. short and sweet, i'm marrying this fic.

keep your eyes on the prize - @rowema-ravenclaw

first of all, showing harry up and second, pure fluff (and a little steam) right after. i also love how she writes harry in general because he's totally safe/in love with the relationship but still has that awkward lovable shyness and i just... *sighs*

always - @pansydaisy

uhm i will always love him and always reread this a thousand times so its a fit title + a good read.

late night studying - @lumosandnoxwriting

fuck studying, let his hand stay in my shirt. once again recommending fluffy bliss in the form of a short read that makes me feel things <3

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

he's so stupid. but he still loves you + this is from our resident perfectly talented writer so its a win.

cuddling after a rough quidditch practice - @badfvith

harry james potter is : b a b y

gryffindor's victory - @rowema-ravenclaw

make me gryffindors fucking cheerleader because HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT. AND THE WRITING IS IMMACULATE PLEASE. just read it, you won't regret it.

draco malfoy

silent treatment - @slytherinwh0re

andy's mad talented and this is just... insert a cheesy chefs kiss. unbelievably adorable but so fucking hot and an actually good smut plot (which is rare lmfao). remind me to give draco the silent treatment every time im upset.

rewards - @malfoysstilinski

so hot PLS. hype him up for the match and get your reward, bye. so good.

reading between the lines - @minty-malfoy

i've said this a thousand times but that's what happens when you've got a mad talented mutual BLESSING everyone with beauty like this. butterflies and warm feelings all around when i read this 💓

point of view - @draconisxcaput

its angst for hermione and fluff for you but overall ethereal writing. i am never going to recover from the pure talent that this is.

im not kidding im dying - @malfoysmatrioshka

i hate being sick with a passion but this... this would make it worth it.

hogwarts express - @/deactivated

draco fucking you because he knows harry's watching. the shit of legends and god is it hot.

draco laughing at you because you can't walk after sex - @glossymalfoy

*motions to the title* fluff with this loser 😌

the cheeseburger - @slytherinwh0re

really short read but this is one of those things i just. didn't know i needed. you're missing out and haven't even realised it if you haven't read about introducing him to cheeseburgers. and that ending is so funny/in character to me i fucking love it.

four am - @malfoysstilinski

domestic draco 🥺 but also sad draco 🥺 and then fluffy draco 🥺

hugging him from behind - @pastanest

real short and it'll brighten your day <3

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

how is it that this is so stupidly adorable. i love it 💘

ron weasley

heather - @hellounicorn

always making me cry with your fics i swearrr. this is a must-read. having someone but them not really being yours is a beautiful trope and this fic absolutely does it wonderful, poetic justice. your angst is addicting.

apple pie - @pregnant-piggy

ABSOLUTE DOMESTIC BLISS I AM IN LOVE. i don't even like kids or baking that much but this made me so soft. the whole cozy, heavenly vibes from this fic yes yes yes.

jealousy - @writeroutoftime

cliché jealousy turns friends to lovers and i am a sucker for it all over again <3

shaking and trembling - @ronsbadidea

if ron doesn't finger fuck me and then make a cheeky comment about it in class later then WHAT IS THE POINT :(

mixed signals - @iamthecabbage

i've always figured ron is this awkward idiot cutie with a crush and yea, this is it.

fred and george weasley

i love you, but you don't - @george-fabian-weasley

fred's a character i really don't read for often but goddamn. it's the saddest, most beautiful mix of rejection and pain and fred desperately caring but not in the way you want him to ─ an angsty masterpiece.

cockwarming george - @roonilwazlibimagines

because of this filthy gem, i one hundred thousand percent believe that he could make me cum without even fucking me and this is just... it's a good fucking read.

would you still love me if i turned into a worm? - @minty-malfoy

their responses are so wonderfully chaotic and adorable and GOD you're missing out if you haven't read these lil blurbs.

─

[frankiekatt]

Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!

Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.

Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️

This was fun to write lmao

Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers

Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.

He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.

But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!

Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.

He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.

Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!

While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.

Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.

After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.

Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.

You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.

Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.

During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.

You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.

This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”

Bo Sinclair:

:|

You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy

Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)

Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.

Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.

Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.

You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.

He favored these moments the most.

Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.

He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.

Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.

As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.

It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”

And he would oblige.

He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.

The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.

“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”

He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.

After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.

When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.

Until-

“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”

“.....”

“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”

:////

Lester Sinclair:

!!!!!

You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!

Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.

Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.

And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-

Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.

You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.

Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.

“You look so cute,” he giggles.

“No, YOU look so cute!”

“W-well!!! I love you!!”

“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”

And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.

Billy Lenz (1974):

The perfect couple.

Literally.

The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.

Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.

He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.

Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.

“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”

“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”

Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.

Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.

You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.

It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.

Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’

He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!

Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.

Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.

Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.

“I love you so much Billy.”

Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.

“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”

Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Stu Macher:

Match made in Heaven!

Stu loves to joke around.

He hardly ever takes anything seriously.

He annoys everyone.

And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.

The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.

But you know what that means!

Detention dates <3

As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.

He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.

When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.

He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,

But you?

He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.

“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”

That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”

The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.

He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.

“Hey babe! I just missed you!”

You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.

Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.

You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Michael Myers:

Girl

Michael does not appreciate your antics.

Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.

He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.

He does not think you’re funny :(

He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.

He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.

You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.

He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...

[chaos-caffeinated]

Emotions can help you remember Part 3 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

 Okay this is it, those words say everything you need to know, enjoy!

update: Oct/06/2020: To compensate for the part, I completed the story. 

Like I said -did I even say it?- I am an overachiever...and a sucker for plot

Not requested (Tagging @naniky​)

NSFW/T - 18+

Smut, lemon

One more thing: Do not forget I am not the only author, my brother and I share this blog for the sole reason of creating content together as well as maintaining an easy access to our stories. Just look under #caffeine for more stories from him, the media he does, previous works, requests/commissions/, and what he is willing to write and not write. 

Okay, NOW onto the story: Enjoy!

I wrote this part incredibly long that I just had to make another part, which will be uploaded in the next hour (October 31, 1pm). If you would like to be reminded, just click on the button on the top right corner (if mobile) and select “get notified”.

“Though it’s good, it’s not fluent enough. Again.” Sebastian ordered, his facial expression was laced with the strictness of his voice. His eyebrows were knitted behind his delicate oval glasses that were chained for easy access. He held a short whip that caught your attention each time he smack it onto his hand, sometimes wondering to ask him if it hurt to whip himself. 

Flinching from the sound, you involuntarily let out a whimper before gazing at the text before you, “Ce soir, je serai donné à l’obscurité, je n’ai que moi-même au prince des ténèbres. Oh Crow permettent à mon corps d’aider dans votre plaisir que votre vie s’est propagée avec la douleur que l’humanité comme elle l’a-a...a...^1” You felt burned out, your voice no longer being able to read off the text that Sebastian had you reading, emphasizing the importance of pronunciations. 

Sebastian, on the other hand, was enjoying the moment you were casting yourself off to him, simply smiling behind his façade of strict teacher. Once you finished your speech you would his for the night, but he flinched when you stuttered towards the end, his attention towards you made him realized you looked tired, “Sebastian...I’m sorry, but I...I am so tired...French is not my strength, I am so sorry.” You gazed downwards, too ashamed to even look at him in the eye. You felt the constraining corset shift underneath as you crossed your arms, disappointed at yourself.

Before he could sigh subtly, his brain had racked up the idea to try something. He smirked widely, his eyes glinting the mischief with the intertwined lust. 

“It is unfortunate, Miss. (L/N), but you have four days before the ball, and I’m sure you want Miss. Hopkins to be delighted upon your return without a language barrier, right?...”

“...Y-yes.” You confirmed, saddening at the fact that you may potentially be upsetting her. 

“Well then, I hope you realize I have a couple tricks under my sleeve, however, some may deem it as unorthodox because of its-” he used the thin stick in his hand to whip the desk, his free hand placed on the mahogany desk leaning over slightly, hovering over your body. Your head whipped upwards where you immediately came face to face with the handsome butler/tutor, to which your cheeks were tinted with a slight pink hue from the closeness between you. 

“Physicality.” He finished with a smirk, “Of course I need your permission, but time waits for no one my lady.” He adds as he rose the tip of baton from in-between your collarbones up to your chin with a light tap. You subconsciously tipped your head back lightly in response to the baton to which he responded with a subtle smirk. When you heard his sultry voice, you almost swore to hearing a purr at the end. 

Entranced by his proximity, you gulped subtly and let out your respond:

“Yes....Sebastian.”

“Then we shall start immediately.” And he closed in by pressing his lips against your lips, one second secure and passion, the next dominant and rough. You let out a soft meek as you were trying to push against him, but he was strong. You sensed he wanted more, hence why he was rough enough to lean you back. 

He removed himself, smirking and revealing the fang as he lick his lips lightly, “I hope you are ready, Miss. (L/N), for I am not lenient.” And he stood up, “Stand.” He commanded, raising the baton to visually represent his command as you obeyed. 

You watched as he made his way behind the desk, but you looked ahead as you were afraid of anything sudden.

He made his way to where you sat and the chair scraped along the floor. 

“Sit.” He ordered, and you sat down to an unfamiliar seat when you realized the firmness and slight shift underneath. You blushed as you realized you sat on his lap.

You trembled softly as you felt as he placed his hands on your hips as he adjusted both of you, “You will read and translate the words I point, if you fail, I will punish you accordingly. Ready?”

You nodded, “Yes, S-Sebastian.”

With a smug look, he pointed at a word of ease to get you comfortable. This went on for a couple dozens of words before he began to challenge you: adding feathery touches to your back, causing you to flinch. 

“And this one?...” He leant by your ear, his voice having a slight rasp as he ushered.

While his gloved finger lightly traced your back, your body shivering from the touch, your voice faltered from it, “Uhm...eh...p-plaisir^2...”

“A stutter, Miss. (L/N)? When the ball is in session, I’m sure you’ll have someone like this as well. You can’t be distracted with this simple touch.” He took his forefinger and traced down your spine, making your cheeks blush again from the vulnerability. 

“...S-so what’s my punishment, then?...” 

“You want to be punished? Hm~...I’ll speak two paragraphs in French and you’ll translate them.”

Groaning as you had trouble listening and understanding, you took a deep breath and sighed, “Fine...”

“Good. Now...Dès que je t’ai posé les yeux, j’ai étré enchanté par ta beauté. J’avais espéré que vous travaillions pour Mlle Hopkins, et vous avez fait votre preuves devant elle ainsi que le jeune maître; talentueux et belle, je te voulais. Je vous ai dans mes mains, votre cœur bat vite, votre corps est à la chasse d’eau- Je sais que vous me voulez tout aussi bien, et à tout moment vous vacillez dans vos leçons Français, je vais m’assurer que vous souvenez de mes mains, mon corps, ma voix. Vous ne m’oublierez jamais aussi bien que la belle langue de Français.^3“

You couldn’t concentrate while he was caressing your back. Images flashed in your mind and you were shy to even have them possessed into your brain. You were fantasizing about being fondled, his hands caressing in other places, to have your own hands running through his raven locks. You wanted it all. However, when he spoke you understood some wording, his distinct pronunciation brought the sense of familiarity which gave you the confidence to translate his message, making you blush in the process as you processed the message. 

The more you spoke, the more Sebastian grew with anticipation. As you finished, he had held your hip, without moving his digits and whispered into his ears, “Good, now for a reward. (Y/N). Tell me, are you in any way against of my teachings?”

“...N-no...” you shyly confessed, “Please...keep it going...I do believe it’s helping me.”

His smirk widen, enough to reveal the fangs, “Good.” He whispered, “Then from now on...nous parlons dans Français ^4.”

(From this point on, it will all be english, I promise. I just thought this was fun)

~

You let out a gasp when he rose his hands, groping your breasts as his lips grazed on the back of your shoulders; he let out whispers you were able to catch, only to respond with the same whispered voice. Each word he spoke out you would be given a kiss from his soft, yet rough lips onto your warm flesh. His hands lingered over your breasts, his fingers rubbing your clothed-areolas triggering them to harden. 

“Tell me how are you feeling, (Y/N). Describe it.” He pulled back his hands as he teasingly, irritatingly, slowly removed your dress to expose your soft skin to his greedy mouth and hands. He removed his gloves to expose his black nails and the Faustian contract that linked his current master and him as property as he was currently ready to devour a mortal body in front of him, “Tell me, (Y/N)...what do you want me to do to you?”

“I...I feel like...my skin is on fire, like I want more just to get rid of it, but...but I like it...I like the feeling of your hands on me...I never want it to stop... I know I want more, I want to feel you everywhere...” You let out shaky breaths as you tried to muffled your moans in, your chest heaving as you gazed down to see his right hand placed on your abdomen area and you gently grabbed it, leading it back to your breast. His touch alone was driving you wild, craving for more as you tried so hard to hold back; believing that you were strong only to fall back.  

Sebastian hummed in response, "Then so be it." Where his hands were located, he easily held you down while bucking his hips, earning a few mewls from you, and your head lulling back as your chest arched forward. You hated how your body betrayed your logical side, falling into the temptation that you thought you had handled, but it was only destroyed from his presence, from his words, from his eyes. 

He bunched up the skirt so your clothed womanhood would be pressed against his clothed bulge, your moaning raised slightly to place your hands on the top of the desk, immediately interrupting the craze. You were panting, you were blushing, you were craving for more of his hot touches that got your body to get tingles, “...It is overwhelming...how is it that your so good to get me so desperate like this?...You are like the devil everyone warns to stay away from...” You attempted to take control of your body again, but you felt something pressed against you as you not only felt a hand on your hip, but another placed in front by your hand. 

Sebastian was even more entranced, while you felt he was responsible for your craze, he blamed you for his craze towards you. Other people would feel guilt while in the bliss of pleasure, others feel a sense of betrayal for their partners, others feel used when the Head Butler of Phantomhive seemed to be intriguing enough to have his attention, but when there isn’t a direct order from Ciel to gather information, to get them to cooperate, he feels a sense of ferality since his interest is purely internal. His plans were to make you his; you can be feisty, you can be yourself, he was most amazed that a simple being such as yourself can manage to stir a demon with their core motivations. He just wanted you, but there were instances where he believed he was doing this because he was to be yours, and that did not sit well with him, which is why he would do everything to get you to submit to him first.

When Sebastian stood up, the chair sliding back, he pressed against you, "Are you scared of me?" He whispered into your ear, "Because I can assure you that even the devil can open your eyes to reality...” He taunts as he raised his hand to caress your exposed arm with his fingertips then grazing them with his black nails before placing on top of yours, interlacing with your fingers.

You whined desperately, turning your head slightly to glance at Sebastian who was smirking. Once again your flesh burned with passion as you feel him start discard your undergarments, the idea that you two were getting closer and closer to bond was filling you up with anticipation, with more shivers down your back. What surprised you was to see each piece of your dress in front of you as he asked you what they were called: he wanted you to continue to learn despite the situation you two were in.  

"What is this?" He asks as he takes off each material. You grunted as he was testing your French by having you name every single material. Each time he removed something he would ask you and it was getting annoying. It was torture, hell, trying so hard not rip anything apart to get closer to become one.

After what felt like an eternity of hell of torture, you were naked in front of him. You realized how vulnerable you were in the position, offering yourself to the Head Butler of the Phantomhives and that made you cower slightly. Trembling, you tried to close up when you felt two soft hands placed on your back.

"Such a magnificent body you have, it's no wonder why everybody else wants you. Beauty like this deserves to be shown off...,but at this moment, and moments like these...you are mine alone." He whispered to you only, his ushered tone had a growl towards the end, like a predator growling in victory towards its prey. His fingers trailed up your back to the nape of your neck and held it in place as the other groped your breast.

You wondered when he had the opportunity to unbuckle his pants, but you shivered once you felt the head of his cock rubbing against your clit, a wanton moan releasing as your body pressed against him almost out of instinct.

"Mmm, desperate for more?~" Sebastian teased as he smirked devilishly, holding you in place as he rejected to further your pleasure.

"Please....please, Sebastian." You begged, tearing up, "Please..." you panted as you swayed your hips in an attempt to tempt him further.

Sebastian smirked and remained like that only to hear and see you move less and less. You tried waiting patiently, tried, but you simply closed your eyes and imagined the scenarios that made you blush. As you imagine him, your thoughts were quickly interrupted as he guided you to bend over the desk as he held your hips, "Distracted yet again, Miss. (L/N), my my. You are one persistent student, aren't you?" He snapped his hips towards, his cock rubbing against your entrance which startled you, "Patience 'will get you anywhere and everywhere', my dear." He reminds you before he proceeded to enter.

As you stiffened from the pressure of his member stretching you, you let out a strained moan as your hands gripped the edge of the table. Even Sebastian groaned subtly as you tightened around him and he calmly rubbed your back in a soft manner, "...W-was...Was this your first time?" He caught his breath as he eased the thrusting by removing himself until the hilt.

You involuntarily let out a breathy moan as he returned, thrusting in a steady pace. Each thrust felt more good and pleasurable than the last before you your hips pressed back against him. You even arched your back as you press back to feel his hips slap against you. The pace was increasing ever slightly, his breaths were audible as he let out breathy moans with your vocal ones. He had an immense grip on your hips that bruises were going to appear, but you didn’t mind. You would have to deal with that in the near future, at the moment you getting taken care of very good by the butler. 

Sebastian let out a soft chuckle as he removed himself and proceeded to sit on the chair. You gasped and whined from frustration when you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting, his erection was resting against abdomen; the image alone was an unholy sight, for he had achieved his core motivation. 

The way his hand rolled over to curl his finger into a “come hither” motion made you and your body responded by flowing with his hand. You turned around and watched as he accommodated his sitting position for you to sit on him once again. Facing forward, you rested your knees beside his thighs and remained uplifted as you stared into his enchanting crimson red eyes. His smirk widen -his bloody smirk- as he leaned forward to nip at your flesh. His arms entangled you in an embrace, but he held you down; he had successfully trapped you fully, he had you, not the other way around he thought you intended. 

You took a deep breath as you felt him once more, but this time it felt different. The way he held you, the way he gazed into your eyes as your back arched and your head leaned back, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward once again only to lick at your mounds and made suckling motions over  your harden nipples. His right arm wrapped around your waist and held you down as he thrusted into you unexpectedly with a steady speed. 

Moaning and instinctively placing your hands through his raven locks, you tilted your head down only to look straight into his devilish eyes. He pulled away from your nipples as you tugged at his locks; his eyebrows twitched subtly as they furrowed slightly; lips were agape as he panted softly. There were sweat beads decorating his pale face as he let out soft moans, your blush darkening from the mysterious man himself, 

“Are you e-enjoying the view, Miss. (L/N)?” He asked in his best attempt of a flustered tone, “You’ve gone back to your head once again, and just how would you feel good if trapped in there?” He bucked his hips which made you buck your hips in response. He pulled your body at an angle which trigger a hyper vocal activity, even your hand left his hair to cover your own mouth, closing your eyes to sense him intensely than before.  There was an intense tingling sensation as your body took over control to reach their goal too. 

As the speed and pressure built up, you had the courage to not only sit back up, but wrap your arms around his neck, curving forward so your mouth latched onto his neck, biting into it as he stiffened from the sudden move. 

You had reached a point that you desperately wanted to increase the speed from how close you were, grinding against him; knowing him already, you were the one that had to obtain it instead of asking. 

Sebastian was completely thrown off guard from the bite, his nails puncturing your skin as he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on the top of the desk, his hands gripping on your thighs, bruises would be appearing in a while, but he didn’t care as he aid in your goal, “A naughty girl indeed..” He panted, his eyes darkening, “Marking me in such a way is unforgivable...now I have no choice to reciprocate your feelings-”

Before you can even comprehend his intentions, you felt a sharp pain on your shoulders, your back arched forward as you cried out in pain, “S-sebastia-”

A hand covered your mouth, your voice muffled as he moaned as well into your shoulder. 

As you came onto his girth member, he remained still as he tried to hold off, even his body shivered from the denial- the torture he put himself into when he purposely holds himself from pouring his pleasure into you. As your body shivered and bucked into the pleasure, you simply held onto him as you rode out your orgasm, the sensation of the building pressure continue to overwhelm, the feeling of pushing him off whilst holding him close was a dilemma. 

As your eyes closed, you can feel him shift, you hear the rustling of clothes in a quick, yet slow manner. Instead of the clothes, you focused on yourself: your legs slightly shaking, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, your cheeks burning, your body freezing from the sweat that had gone out to refresh you from the hot man in front of you. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him dressed up already. His deep red eyes maintained fixed on you as he fixed his tie, his smirk plastered on his facial features, “Miss. (L/N), I do believe the lesson over for now, I think it’s best for you to rest.” He offered his hand towards you while you just had come down from the high. You felt queasy, but it wasn’t it. No, you felt lighter, you felt fresh for some reason. Could the taboo act made you much bolder, could it have made you more experienced?

“...My dress.” You managed to croak out in English, your voice sounded hoarse and you blushed from embarrassment as your hand hovered over your mouth.

“Oh my...I think overstepped my boundaries a bit, my apologies my lady, I will prepare some tea to soothe your voice...We don’t want our lesson to go to waste.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact. You blushed as you averted your eyes from his as you nodded, “Y-yes...”

“Yes?” Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked slightly which you quickly corrected, “I mean, ‘Oui, monsieur’.” 

When you saw him smile in a satisfied manner, you nearly sighed in relief, but you were now flustered and quiet from the ‘lesson’ that he performed to help you learn French. Without a doubt it left an impression you, an act of intimacy and vulnerabilities in a lovemaking surely stirred things up to help you remember words -events- more effectively. 

While you were thinking, Sebastian helped you back in your dress, “I have to say, I didn’t know of such a strong bite from you, my lady. It was certainly an eye-opener.” He explained as he helped with a few items. When he got to the corset, he lifted you onto your  feet and turned you around, “Hopefully you don’t forget about our time like...this” he whispered as he guided his hands across your abdomen which you instinctively let out a breathy moan, “Y-yes...I’m sure I’ll never forget about the event...” you stabled yourself as he pulled on the corset only to make you gasp from how tight he was pulling. 

After a couple minutes, you both cleaned up the area and headed to your room to rest. Your voice felt raspy, nearly gone. When a surprise visit from Ciel caught your attention to ask about your lessons, Sebastian intervened for you, “I apologize young master, but realizing that Miss. (L/N) is tight on schedule for the ball, I had a trick under my sleeve to ensure she would capture the lesson, but...I believe I was too harsh on her.” He smirked lightly which you forced yourself to nod.

“...L-lost my voice a bit...” you confirmed, “But it’s not like a cup of tea won’t help.”

Ciel nodded slightly, glaring at Sebastian, “I’m sorry as well, I know Sebastian can be too rash with his studies, but if he does it again you can tell me. I’ll be in my office if needed- Sebastian, I want cake when you’re finished.” and he proceeded to walk to his study room. 

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian responded before guiding you to his bedroom.

“Couldn’t have been more obvious?”, You bit as you rested your hand on your neck.

Sebastian chuckled behind his fist as he arrived to the room, opening the door for you, “If you wanted me to, I could have.”

“You really have no shame, Mr. Michaelis, but please...I ask that you keep this our secret...I don’t want you to get in trouble as well as I...” You asked of him as you entered the room to sit on the bed. 

Sebastian placed a hand over his chest as he leaned forward wit his eyes closed, “As you wish, I will keep it between us.” He stood up once again with his eyes open halfway. 

You smiled small as you leaned against your hands behind you, “You’re so...intriguing Sebastian. One moment you are a shadow, the next...uhm, you are almost a beast, and right after that you are....back to a shadow- how?...” You sat up, “I’m...beyond tired- very tired- and you are still up and going to complete your duties.”

Unnecessary to withhold his smirk, his half-lid eyes glanced on your way, “Your observational skills never cease to overwhelm me, Miss. (L/N), however..” his voice got more stern as he got closer, “ I have mentioned before that if you look into someone, you might regret it later, so I advise you my lady to keep at bay..”

The closer he got, the more you look up to stare into his eyes, challenging him, “Temptation rises when provoked, so I suggest you stop provoking me, Mr. Michaelis. Because we...intertwined in a forbidden act, you opened the doors to temptation, my... I even have to take care of myself in order to walk through those doors again...”

The corners of his lips curved slightly, Sebastian took your statement into consideration, but as entertained as he was to continue this conversation, his duties in the manor made him realize he had to cut it short, “I do have a few ways to cure that, my lady.” he suggested, his tone completely changed from the previous ominous tone to the mischievous one he possessed earlier. 

“Keep your tricks in your sleeve, please. I’m already exhausted from...your lesson there.” You huffed with a flustered face as you avoided eye contact once again. However, you failed to realize just how close he gotten. He reached out to your chin and pulled you close to him, “My lady, I have many tricks under my sleeve that I am not afraid to show you...four days is all I need.” He smirked darkly as he pulled away with a cheerful smile as he closed his eyes for the moment one again, “I will be right back with the tea as promised. In the meantime, please do relax and rest your voice...madam.” he added and proceeded to close the door behind him.

He left you speechless, knowing full well that his tricks were just promises ready to occur.

~

When Sebastian reached to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but rest against the door for a moment. After taking a deep breath, he chuckled darkly as he placed a hand over his face, “Sweet, sweet (Y/N), you drive me into a deep craze.” The hand hovered the side of the neck you bit him at. He was serious when he said you had a strong bite, and it wasn’t just that of muffling your moans. He strolled over to the counter and took out a knife to use as a mirror. He lowered his collar and managed to see a bruised bite-mark on his neck. His smirk widen and he clicked his tongue as he placed down the knife, “You’re a feisty one; I admire that.” He smiled darkly as he removed his coat to prepare the young lord his dessert. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4 Days later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The music was soft and inviting, a subtle siren in your head to set the atmosphere of the ball. It was a slow drag from the violins which gave you strength to take a deep breath and walk forward to the crowd whom were laughing. 

Ciel was conversing with a man -the truth being the other way around-, commenting and opinionating of events that bore the young master to a tremendous level, but he remained to act as if he was in interest to the best of his ability to focus on capturing a special guest. When the nobleman excused himself after recognizing an acquaintance, Ciel called forward Sebastian who stood behind him, “Sebastian, keep an eye on Miss. (L/N) and anyone she is speaking with, there may be a chance that she’s talking with him at this moment-” as he gave him his order, Ciel spotted you with someone casually talking in French. He stood there slightly impressed at your proficiency and commented instead, “Miss. (L/N) has a lot of confidence with her French, she even looks different from before.” 

Sebastian smiled with his eyes closed as he respond, “Thank you my lord, it took a little more effort due to the time restraint, but additional teachings were added to ensure proficiency.”

Ciel eyed him for a moment, “Additional teachings? It didn’t involve something like close proximity did it?” He asked with a near disgust that his demon butler would go that far, but not surprised if he revealed the information. 

Placing a finger over his lips, Sebastian responded, “Miss. (L/N) has asked me not to disclose any information regarding our situation young lord, but that should already tell you.”

Ciel’s eyebrow twitched before releasing a sigh, “...Unfortunately, it did.” 

When he turned back to look at you, he audibly gasped when he didn’t see you there anymore, “Sebastian, track her.” He ordered  with a slight urgency in his voice, 

Bowing his head, Sebastian replied, “yes, my lord.” and he walked from his master to find you.

~

While the dynamic duo were talking, you were having a conversation with someone that was visiting a friend. It became so casual and so friendly that the two of you had walked over to the table to take a few pieces of snacks. 

His name was Jacque Arias, born into a family that dealt with the fabric industry in South France, you thought having a good friendship with him would help Miss. Hopkins with future business after you explained to him that you worked as a tailor for her. 

As you took a drink from your glass, he spoke: “I am so relieved to finally have something to go to, if I had to stay in the office one more night I would have gone insane.”

“So you like parties to distract yourself from work?”

He nods, “Yes, and to meet lovely ladies that could potentially be my future wife, like yourself.” He smiled small with a slight tilt of his head.

You blushed from hearing this, stiffening slightly, “Searching for a wife? Me? Surely you gist, sir. I am merely just a tailor intern.” You explain to him, ‘At least for the time being, I like having those small arguments with Sebastian,’ you admitted in thought. 

He reached forward to your hand only to caress, "A beautiful intern no less-...it maybe my imagination, but perhaps the party has tire me out. Shall we go somewhere more...silent? Somewhere we can be more intimate?"

You were ready to say no, already losing the interest of a business partner potential. If he wanted to marry you, for some reason you felt it was your choice to choose, and you wanted to choose someone that perhaps wasn't necessarily available to be taken, and you responded, "I don't want to offend you, but-"

He took your hand in his and lightly started guiding you out, "Then let's enjoy nature together." He suggested, "I...I don't-" You glanced around to see the mysterious man himself offering glasses to the guests, but he also glanced at your way. You noticed the faint smirk before he tilted his head forward, 'Go.' You felt him say before he went back to attend with the rest of the guests.

Almost feeling your body going light, you then followed the man ahead of you with a light smile.

It was chilly, your skin shivered to make some warmth, "Are you cold? I'll call up my carriage." He offered as he took off her coat, "In the meantime, here." He placed the coat over your shoulders, "I'll be right back." And he walked with a rushed speed.

You were surprised to see his nice side as he was going to get the carriage. You were suddenly curious about taking his offer, but you wanted to reject by the interaction at the table. Giving him the second chance to see him truly, you decided to wait outside than inside where it was warm.

~

Waiting patiently for a couple minutes, you felt your body shiver once again, but you subconsciously glanced around. You felt like someone was staring at you- stalking you. It felt uneasy for you, your hands tightening the coat around your body while you made your way back to the manor so you would at least be with someone before you spotted someone in pitch black. You almost called out his name until your eyes widen at the revelation.

While the ball was still in place and everyone was blissful at the moment, with the earl holding in his disinterest in people and balls overall, Sebastian kept a close connection with you. He immediately recognized the man you were with and knowing how humans seemed to be believe they were mated with one intense session, he just had to play the role of the silent lover, granting the permission for you to be with the next chaperone, 

The atmosphere was filled with a wave of chattering, the laughter whether genuine or filled with arrogance, Sebastian could listen to all with depth. He listened to the piece played by the string quartet and multi-task with his butler duties. Suddenly, he heard a change in the quartet, a new piece was to be played and he listened.

The violins and violoncello were stroked rapidly in the next piece that it threw people off guard. They were not expected such an allegro tempo from the players: notes raised, dropped, the moments of silence, the notes raising a subtle anxiety from the audience even Sebastian felt it. He felt the anxiety, he felt -for a moment- his heart beating faster and faster and he turned to glance at the young master only for him to just watch the quartet as well. In that instant, he heard your panting with his demonic ears, it was the only thing that stand out from the silent crowd and the musicians ahead of him. 

He strolled to the head of the family and bent over at his height only to whisper by his ear to prohibit eavesdropping. While Ciel watched ahead, his full attention was for the demon. 

“Sebastian, I order you to find him and bring both of them back here after the ball.” He ordered with the ushered tone as the butler replied: “Yes, my lord.” before smirking at the slight liberation in his current state.   

Previous Part/ Final Part 

~Translations~

1: Tonight I will be given to the darkness, I have but myself to the prince of darkness. Oh Crow allow my body to help in your pleasure as your life has been done with the pain that humanity as it (cut out: brought/ apporté.)

2:Pleasure

3: “Good Now...”The moment I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by your beauty. I had hoped you worked for Miss. Hopkins, and you proved yourself in front of her as well as the young master; talented and beautiful, I wanted you.

I have you in my hands, your heart is beating fast, your body is flushing- I know you want me just as well, and at any moment you falter in your French lessons, I will make sure  you remember my hands, my body, my voice. You will never forget me as well as the beautiful language of French is in your possession.”

4. we will speak in French

A/N: Tell me why I spent over 45 minutes searching the music sheet for the Diabolic Waltz and Danse Macabre (Can you blame me? It’s amazing work.) only to confirm or learn from parts where in the music because I am an overachiever and I go all out when I attempt to describe the music without being “the music played louder” come on, I didn’t spend two years in the marching band and be discriminated for being a woman and a semester in Music Appreciation in college for NOTHING- TEMPO, FORTE (Brother save me, this is my call for you to save me, this has gone way too far even for my own sake).

P.S. I am saying it again: Do not forget about my brother, Caffeine, he makes exclusive and waaaaay better stories than I. Just look under #caffeine for more of his content as well as a list of the media he covers for any requests/commissions.

[euphoricsunflowers]

my love — yoo kihyun (kinktober day 26)

a/n: i’m so sorry i haven’t posted much! i’m been going through it but i wish you all the best and if i don’t end up posting more kinktober, know that it’s just me trying to care for my mental health. i love you <3

a/n: gUYS I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING GOOD AND ITS ACTUALLY A DECENT LENGTH I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED

word count: 1.6k

content: fem!reader, siren!kihyun, dom/sub themes are pretty light in this one, riding, uhm warning he does kinda try to kill you(?), singing, voice kink we’re kinda living

taglist: @skjdln @lovingonrepeat @maknaeronix @neosincity

you had to admit: it was overall a bad idea, but that didn’t make it any less enticing. the waters were just so pretty, and while you may not be the best swimmer, you had only planned to swim a bit! you just wanted to float around and maybe say hi to a crab. maybe… but then you heard it. you heard him.

his voice had you in a trance, it felt heavenly, just focusing on nothing other than those pretty notes and how some parts were powerful, almost overwhelming, and some were soft and subtle.

you reach out, longing to touch, to love, to do something more than just allow yourself to drown. you grasp his arm finally, and he shrieks. (maybe he wasn’t used to people being able to do more than just allow the music take over and destroy them) the pause in his vocals allowed you a small second of mental clarity, and you realize it: you’re drowning.

there’s a struggle, you push and punch and kick and just do anything you can to get free and get oxygen. you can feel yourself becoming more and more lightheaded, the burning feeling of not getting oxygen slowly disappearing as you stop being able to feel much of anything. everything goes black, and something in the back of your head is furious at how everything you did was in vain.

but then you breach the surface, your lungs desperately taking in the air you barely got the chance to breathe. everything is unrecognizable, but you find a small rock by a cave you use to climb out of water and sit on as you finally have the chance to relax. despite being stranded in the middle of nowhere, you have a moment of peace.

and though his singing voice was entrancing, his talking voice was a million times better. when he sung, everything felt cloudy and thoughtless, but you could fully appreciate just how beautiful, how incredibly luscious his voice truly was.

“hey, you,” he calls out, grasping your attention once more, but in truth, he never lost it, “how did you… do that?”

“do what?” you muse, a small smile on your face. it’s so confusing how you even felt the need to be cocky, but everything about this was confusing. you could blame the lack of fear (now that you weren’t dying) on the unconscious calming effect of his voice.

“how did you escape me?” he’s been leaning on a rock to prop himself out of water, but he pulls himself up. his tail is barely seen before legs materialize out it, leaving you, once again, so utterly lost.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, but you weren’t even sure what you were referring to. you didn’t know a lot of things currently, “come here.”

“e-excuse me?” he stutters, and it feels beautiful, his cheeks and nose are already a rose color but his cheeks darker and it’s absolutely adorable.

“are you going to kill me?” you ask, but it seems to be the wrong move. he smirks.

“hm, i haven’t decided. why? are you scared?”

“come here, siren,” you order, and oddly enough, he wordlessly steps forward, sitting in front of you. the view you have makes you recognize that he’s definitely naked, but you have to keep your cool.

“a prey that fights so hard to survive,” he murmurs, “is admirable.”

“am i the prey here?” you regret the words the second they leave your mouth, and you can’t, for the life of you, figure out why they do. you assume he’d aggressively try to assert himself, because he definitely could kill you at any second.

but he doesn’t, “i hear that my voice tends to make people say and do things they wouldn’t normally do.”

“i suppose that makes sense. tell me, though, can i have your name?”

“no,” he smirks again. he seems to do that a lot, “but i suppose you can call me kihyun. what could i call you?”

you move closer, and again his rosey cheeks darken, your lips barely graze his, and he’s stuttering at the boldness, doing his best to form a response, but he just can’t, so you respond for him, “call me your love.”

he doesn’t have time to even think to question you, because your hands cup his cheeks so softly and you kiss him once more, and then again, and again. each time is more aggressive until you finally pull back and you’re both lying on the floor with you on top. you worry for a second about his back, because the rock he’s lying on would definitely not be comfortable, but he doesn’t pay any mind, so you don’t either.

“love,” he whispers, flustered at the way he feels so weak and yet so safe in your hold. he’s not used to the feeling, but that’s what makes it so intense. he’s always been the predator, the killer, the one who makes it out alive, smirking at the dead body who tried to seduce him, but his mind feels just about as clouded as yours, and it feels like nothing exists but you and your hands tightly gripping his waist as your head lowers to press faint, faint kisses on his sharp collarbones.

“yes, my siren?” you don’t lift your head enough to look him in the eye, instead nuzzling your nose against his neck, and he shivers.

“could you please… help me? please, please, please let me feel you,” he begs, and you’re more than happy to oblige. it’s not like you could do much to harm him, nor could you really sneak away. besides, the way he begs, especially with that soft, whiney voice, is just so, so beautiful.

“of course,” you mumble as you stand to remove your clothes. you hadn’t realized until now that they weren’t swimming clothes, and you probably ruined your favorite sweater.

“you know,” he starts, grabbing your attention away from your wet clothes, “this wasn’t the plan.”

“oh?”

“you were… really, really pretty underwater like that. no one has ever looked so… ethereal, letting themselves drown for me,” his eyes finally meet yours, and he smiles, “maybe that’s why i got too close. i was just so—”

“hypnotized by me?” you smirk, the irony not escaping either of you, “i’m sure you know all about that,” you finish getting undressed, straddling his hips as he lays there, gazing up at you as if you were a goddess, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“tell me, siren—”

“please,” he cuts you off, but he just sounds so weak for you to actually get upset, “stop calling me siren. you asked for my name, and i just… i need to hear you say it,” his request is barely audible, but you’re happy to fulfill it.

“kihyun, my dear,” your hand rubs soothingly on his stomach, and he waits patiently for you to finish your thought, “would you like it if i rode you?”

“yes,” he whispers lowly, but it’s not enough. you’ll never get enough of that voice.

“beg for me, kihyun,” your hand goes from soothing to probably leaving bruises in a matter of seconds as you grip his waist, trying to pull a physical reaction out him. he trembles in your hold, whimpering loudly and the way it sounded made you want to moan in ecstasy.

“please, my love, i need you. i need you so, so much. i’ve never felt this way before, let alone because of a human. please just… make me feel alive.”

“alright,” you concede. without thinking, because that’s nearly impossible at this point, you position yourself just below his hips, and you allow yourself to sink down on him. he cries out, and it’s music to your ears. as much as you want to drag this out and really make it perfect, you just can’t help the way you need to feel more and more.

as every second passes, he feels weaker and weaker, that burning heat in his stomach becoming so unbearable, he’s so close, and you don’t seem to be doing much different. you’re chasing your high like nothing before. you hand reaches out for his, and he wanted to feel flustered at the sudden intimacy, but he can’t find it in him to pay it any mind.

“cum with me, my kihyun,” you barely get out before he nods intensely, his moans louder and louder and as incredible as they make you feel, you wonder if he’s hurting his throat. he’s been practically screaming for a few minutes now, and it all peaks as he finally lets go. his body seized up as he arches his back so, so perfectly and he cums with a glorious cry.

of course you follow suit, cursing softly to yourself, using him to ride out your orgasm. you rest your body atop of his, feeling his pounding heartbeat and his chest rise and fall.

“i have a question,” you whisper, your lips grazing his neck but there’s no force or pressure.

“yes?”

you frown, “what now? i still have family and friends who probably want to see me?”

“i’ll take you to them soon, but for now you’re mine. can i sing you to sleep?”

you shake your head, he doesn’t see it but he does feel it, “how do i know you won’t kill me?”

“i suppose you don’t, but if i let you live, you have to promise me to come back to me sometimes, because… you’re my love, right?”

you feel the slightest bit flustered at how you had asked him to call you that, and even more so that he did, “do you even know what love is?”

“i could.”

[alreadyblondenow]

12:54 am After prom with Mark Lee - first condom (M)

condoms: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Full fic here - Prom & six packets of condoms.

...

After having a blast at prom and getting half drunk at the after party, you ended up tired and exhausted in Mark’s bed. He flopped beside you putting his right hand under his chin and admire you smile at the ceiling. To him you’re still as beautiful as the first time he saw you today even though your face is all oily and your hair is already down.

“I’m pretty sure we did everything that’s needed to be done for a perfect prom” he said, slightly whispering to not ruin the silence in his room.

“Hmm. Not everything, but yeah it’s perfect. You’re perfect” you whispered back sweetly, trying to let him know that you’re flirting.

“What do you mean?” He bounced back a question immediately and totally missed your flirting. You let out a sigh.

“I overheard Jaemin and the other boys are going to lose it with their girlfriends tonight. Because of that, their prom will be extra special you know? But Mark, you’re perfect! You made this night beyond perfect and I couldn’t ask for more” You see him smile and blush, hugging his favorite striped pillow and try to hide his shyness.

It does make him kind of envy with the others because he wants to lose his virginity too tonight, but the problem is he doesn’t have a girlfriend. The room became silent when Mark told you that. You thought of all the things he did for you today just to give you an unforgettable night and then a crazy idea hit your head like a lightning.

“You can still do it. You have me”

The idea made him speechless and excited but he’s good at hiding it. “Wow- Jeez, I don’t know what to say but are you sure? Because I want this to happen, really.” He almost confessed his feelings for you but he stopped himself before he ruins this moment.

“Yeah. I want to lose my virginity too tonight” the awkwardness is starting build up between the two of you. “Let’s just pretend we’re together. We do love each other as friends but you know, just so we could have a good time while having sex we uhm- we need to think that we’re together”

“No problem with me” he’s been pretending that you two are together ever since he developed a big crush on you. “Do you want to go to the bathroom first?” He offered.

“That would be great, yeah. I could use some time to fix myself first” you head towards to his bathroom and locked it nervously. The idea wasn’t supposed to make you nervous because it’s Mark but you caught yourself getting excited about the sex.

You found him making the bed and he made the room all dark and left his lampshade open. You walk towards the edge of his bed, Mark on the other side and you see him loosen up his tie and starts to unbutton his dress shirt. When he’s all naked in front of you, you hear your heart pound and beat so fast when you saw him crawl to your side. “Come here, I’ll unzip your dress”

You turned around and you feel his hands roam around your shoulders before he proceeds to unzip your dress. “Nice bra” he says when you faced him again.

Mark invites you to his bed to come lay down holding your hand as if you’re going to fall. It’s weird how it’s not your first time laying on Mark’s bed but this time it felt like it’s your first time.

He gave you a peck on the lips, a quick and friendly kiss. “That’s our first kiss as best friends. I want you to know that It’s me and like Im not going to do anything bad to you. I’m just appreciating my best friend” theres a slight pang on his heart when he said that because right now he wants to scream and tell you his feelings for you.

Mark kissed you again to silence his thoughts. And it was a different kiss from the first one. This kiss made your head move around his pillows, you feel your head sinking as he kiss you deeper and deeper, both of your hands are exploring as if it has mind of its own.

“And that’s our first kiss, being together” and I want you to know that I love and if you could just wait for me to man up, I will love you fiercely. But of course he didn’t have the courage to say that part to you, instead he kissed you and pretended with you.

It was hard to stop kissing Mark and be away from his incredible lips. Lips he used for singing and for his prayers, now he’s using it for kissing you. “Let’s get you naked, baby” he said in between delicious kisses.

He pull away from the kiss and once again admired the girl in front of him. “Mark, you deserve everything” you said, sitting up in front of him. Guiding his hands towards your chest just brush his soft hands against your clothed boobs and gave him your consent and honour to unclasp your strapless bra.

You smiled at him when you felt your bra fall down the mattress. He pushed you back on the mattress, kissing your lips and slowly traveling down your neck.

For a minute he just stayed above you and looked at your exposed boobs and proceed to remove your laced panties. You hear him let out a soft exhale, finally seeing you fully naked in his bed.

It’s your first time having sex and neither is Mark but you don’t know why that certain nervousness was gone. He was smiling sweetly to you when he made his way in between your legs kissing your lips again. You feel Mark’s hands roam around your naked body and his touch are just as addicting like his lips. “I’ll be right back”

In the quickest way possible, he went to his bathroom to pump dick a few more times to make his cock harder and grabbed a few condoms from the drawer.

“Mark Lee, are you planning use all six of that?” you were pointing at the condoms.

He chuckled at what you said and went back in between your opened legs and give you a kiss again. “Baby, want to roll it?” he asked, giving you a packet of condom and nod your head excitedly.

When all is settled, both of his hands are on both sides of your head, cock already lined up, he’s just taking his time with you. “Thank you, Y/n” it should have been ‘i love you, y/n’ but again he kissed you to silence his thoughts.

Pushing inside you slowly, feeling how your walls are warm around him. You on the other hand, moaned out the hurt and kissed Mark until you smile whenever he playfully thrusts in you to catch your attention and look at his eyes.

Mark was cute the whole time he was rolling his hips. Cute but fucking hot when looks directly in your eyes and intentionally goes deeper inside. It was quiet and only your moans and his, the skin slapping from Mark’s thrusts are the sounds you can hear inside his room.

You guide his hand to grip your left boob and he got the message and he kneads them. Pulling Mark’s head close to your boobs so he can suck it like the ones you saw in porn, he got the message too. All these are new to him but he’s happy you’re okay with him having the full experience using your body.

If Mark gave you the best full experience for prom, you’re going to give him the best full experience in having sex. It was not long when Mark reached his climax and shoot his cum in the condom and you on the other hand came with the help of his fingers and shivered like crazy underneath him.

Pulling out immediately he threw the condom and lay beside you, covering you with his familiar sheet that you only use to cover your eyes during scary movies. But now, he’s using it to cover both of your naked bodies.

When he pulled you close to him, you were still shivering and sensitive. So he kissed you and until you finally calm down and accept his warmth.

[returnsandreturns]

Dunno if you are still doing the Mattfoggy fic thing, but my voting experience: I am in college at another state, and my absentee ballot got mailed to my childhood home, so my mom (go mom!) Mailed it up to me. Voted, and while I get everyone is super concerned with the general presidential election, be sure to vote down ballot and research. In my county, judges are up for reelection (its a yes/no thing, not a running against other people thing) and some of them have preformed gross miscarriages of justice. Doing research on the candidates took me ~3 hrs. Mailed it (my state does it by postmarking, I double checked) and my ballot should arrive to my county on Tuesday. If I can suggest a prompt, college Matt getting a haircut from Foggy (bonus points for clipper feel nice, itchy hair, and "oh no did I make a mistake" heartrate increase ratcheting nerves)

“I can’t promise you won’t regret this,” Foggy says, when he’s got Matt sitting on his desk chair with a towel around his shoulders. Matt gives him a baleful look and he laughs, ruffling his hair. “I’m joking. Mostly.”

“I probably wouldn’t accept this offer if I had literally any money,” Matt says, gravely, “but I trust you.”

“That’s sweet, dude,” Foggy says, sounding genuine. “Let’s see how you feel in, like, fifteen minutes. Tip your head back a little for me.” 

Foggy cuts his own hair and offered to cut Matt’s, too; he said was pretty sure he could do a good job and definitely sure that Matt’s hot enough that he’d either start a new trend or everybody would be too nice to tell him that he looks like an animal attacked his head. 

His choice to accept had nothing to do with the way that Foggy offered while he was literally running his fingers through Matt’s hair. 

“Oops,” Foggy says, softly, heart speeding up a few minutes in. 

“Oops?” Matt repeats.

“Uhm, no big deal, I got this,” Foggy says, quickly, dropping a hand to squeeze Matt’s shoulder before he goes back to it.

“Do you?” Matt asks. 

“Yes, obviously,” Foggy says, scoffing. “I’m incredibly talented at everything I try and have never made a mistake in my life.” 

“You’re really not making me feel better,” Matt says, not actually all that worried because he’s pretty sure that Foggy would stop if he was actually fucking it up. Also, Foggy actually does tend to be good at most things.  

“Hey, how do you feel about buzzcuts?” Foggy asks, laughing when Matt groans. “I jest, Murdock. Almost done.”

Matt keeps shivering when Foggy’s fingers touch his neck. They’re not even cold.

“Okay,” Foggy says, a few minutes later, running his fingers through Matt’s hair in a way that makes Matt’s toes curl a little before ruffling it so little bits of hair fall down around his shoulders. “You’re perfect.” 

“Yeah?” Matt asks, feeling a little dazed.

“A masterpiece,” Foggy says.

Matt blushes and suddenly just gets it. 

He’s got a crush.

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 4

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: a bit of angst and confusion. Nothing much, Word Count: 2,222  Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N: Sorry for delaying this. I realized a mistake about the story and tried to find a way to fix it without having to rewrite the entire story.Time to see how she reacts huh? 

Part 1 -  Part 2 - Part 3 Masterlist

Chapter 4: i think she’s keeping ME around

Y/n | Sam

i know it doesn’t seem likely but i really can explain.

Oh, you mean how you’ve been charged with kidnapping, GRAVE desecration (which, what the FUCK dude) and FIRST DEGREE MURDER THREE FUCKING TIMES?

People say we should be careful, strangers might be murderers or rapists but who would’ve fucking thought of THIS.

I don’t know why I’m even still talking to you.

y/n wait give me five minutes.

“I just can’t fucking believe it.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back at her sister’s concerned features. “I meet one guy, one fucking guy, that I like, that I enjoy talking to, and he has the worst criminal record I’ve ever fucking seen. TV shows included.”

“What’d he-“

“And it’s not like- Credit card fraud is bad, sure, but armed robbery? What the fuck does grave desecration even fucking mean?!” she throws her hands in the air. “It’s not like he’s been caught with small theft or something, this- first degree murder? Three times?!” Y/n’s eyes well with tears, horrified at the thought she’s been talking to a possibly psychopathic serial killer for the past couple weeks. Fuck’s sake, she was dreaming of dating the guy, all the while putting herself down in comparison to him. God.

“What’d he tell you?”

Y/n looks at the multiple messages on her screen, popping up one by one, and reads them out loud.

y/n?

look i’ll do my best to explain and hope you haven’t blocked me yet.

and if you don’t answer i’ll take the hint and never contact you again i promise.

the family business i told you about? yeah. my brother and i drive around the States killing monsters.

we hunt things like ghosts (remember our conversation?) vampires werewolves demons ghouls witches just about everything you can think of.

i know how ridiculous this sounds i promise and i wish i didn’t have to tell you about this part of my life but i swear to you it’s all real.

the reason why i have a mugshot roaming around the internet is because very few people know monsters exist and as you can probably tell hunting them is ugly and awful and it entails digging up graves or killing things that resemble humans.

the cops obviously don’t know about any of it they think we’re psychopaths much like you probably do.

“He says he hunts monsters?!” Emily’s eyebrows have skyrocketed half way up her forehead. A scoff. “That’s his excuse?!”

“Wait.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. The cogs in her brain strain with the effort to make sense of all of this.

“You can’t tell me you’re even remotely considering it,” her younger sister states incredulously.

You hunt demons?

oh thank God.

yeah. i do.

What do they look like?

“Dude,” Emily slaps her sister’s shoulder. “What the fuck-“

“Shut up for a second.”

well human mostly? they possess people in the form of black smoke. they have black eyes and leave behind traces of sulfur.

not that i’m not ecstatic but why the hell are you still talking to me?

I believe you.

wait you do?

“You what?!” Emily’s voice grabs Y/n’s attention away from her screen. “Why the hell do you believe him?!”

oh shit.

you’ve seen one haven’t you?

My dad was killed by a demon.

I spent a lot of time with him in his antique shop, and two women with black eyes walked in one day and demanded him give them this old ass necklace that looked priceless. Dad refused because they weren’t threatening with weapons or anything. He thought they were fucking around

They threw him on the wall and strangled him without even touching him.

I was hidden behind a back door.

I found sulfur everywhere afterwards. I Googled it.

i’m so sorry you had to go through that

both my parents were killed by the same demon.

I guess we’re more alike than we thought.

i guess we are.

“Dude,” Emily grips Y/n’s bicep. “Are you high?!”

Y/n shakes her head. “He’s telling the truth, Em.” The younger girl’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry- what?” Y/n sighs. “You’re nuts.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“But-“

“Yeah, I realize how crazy this all looks like to you, but I swear to you, he’s telling the truth, and so am I. If you can’t trust him, then please, trust me.” Coffee brown eyes bore into hers and Y/n doesn’t drop her stare. She just waits for Emily’s reaction, knowing the girl is simply processing what’s happening.

“So you mean to tell me the thing with dad is true?” Her shoulder slump. “You’re not fucking around to like, not upset him in case he’s a psychopath or something?” Y/n’s chest is weighing about twenty pounds more than it is usually. It’s not a memory she enjoys revisiting and when she told the cops exactly what had happened, they told her she was probably in shock and had imagined everything. They chose not to explain the sulfur. “Monsters- they’re real?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nods. “Apparently? I didn’t know about the rest of them to be honest.

I know how crazy it sounds. But I was there, when dad died, and I know what I saw.” She knows she’s right. Every time the memory resurfaces, Y/n sees the same thing, knows for a fact the women were standing near the entrance of the shop, across which dad was tossed. The impact from his body, an impact that required superhuman strength, shattered one of his glass displays inside the shop into millions of crystal shards. Y/n tried not to scream while watching her dad glance toward her and turn all shades of blue, eventually falling limp and no longer struggling mid-air.

She knows what she saw. The women never touched her father, yet he was hurled around like a ragdoll and killed effortlessly.

Emily is silent.

“Please don’t think I’m crazy. I have no other reason to believe this kid.” Eyebrows stitched together, pursed pink lips thoughtfully caged between her teeth, Emily breathes out loudly.

“I, uh,” She licks her lips. “I’m not… invalidating your experience,” bless her, Y/n thinks. Bless her for being such a kind, incredible sister. I’m so lucky. She could’ve scoffed and called her crazy. And here she is, even without believing her, reassuring that she’s willing to listen. “But you have to understand, this is difficult for me to believe.” Words carefully picked and offered. She’s not shutting the door. Y/n couldn’t ask for anything more.

“I do. Understand.” The eldest sister toys with the strings of her sweatpants. “And if you want to talk about it, we can.” Emily shuts her eyes.

“I don’t really uh…” a hand running through her hair. “I don’t really think I can handle that conversation right now.” Y/n nods. “I uhm,” a second of silence. “I trust you though.”

“Okay,” she reassures, “Thank you.” Her instinct wants to lay a hand on her sister’s knee in comfort, but Emily isn’t a particularly affectionate person, so she chooses not to. “Do you want to… stay here? Keep watching Game of Thrones?” Emily, as if reminded of what they had been doing, looks up at the screen, Jon Snow’s screaming face zoomed in and bloody, sitting still on their small laptop. She breathes out.

“Yeah okay.”

Y/n thinks they’re done talking for tonight. She sits back and lets her sister press play on the episode, then stiffly try to relax back on the couch. There’s a blanket of awkwardness, another layer of thick tension that lays around them. But then Emily speaks one last time. “At least John Snow’s still hot,” she sighs and Y/n barks out a loud laugh. Yeah. They’re gonna be alright.

-

so we’re okay, right?

The text feels heavy. When the girls restarted watching the episode from where they’d left off, Y/n chose to ignore her phone completely, not allowing the subject to continue at all and giving her sister space from it. But now, under her covers, alone and in absolute silence, Y/n can’t seem to ignore it.

Demons? Sure, she’s seen them, she’s had time to digest it. But there’s so much more to it, so many supernatural beings out there, and it feels akin, to discovering a new genre of music; completely overwhelming. Where does she start? Does she even want to know about it? Does she get involved? It feels selfish to idly sit around, being one of the few people that are aware, while people die by this unknown threat.

And what happens with Sam? Are they okay? Why does she so badly want to say yes? A normal person would’ve run for the hills. Whether or not supernatural beings actually existed, does she really want to get involved with that world? It sounds so dangerous.

She hasn’t known Sam for long. There’s no harm in giving him another chance, right? He doesn’t know much about her, so theoretically she can walk away unscathed at any point at all. That thought comforts her enough to reply to him.

Yeah, we’re good.

His reply is so fast, and her heart gives a little flutter.

i’m really glad.

you didn’t reply and i thought you decided i’m crazy after all.

not that i’d blame you for that i’m still surprised you’re sticking around.

Yeah. Sorry about that, I had to talk some things through with my sister.

We watched Game of Thrones afterwards, and I turned off my phone.

no no it’s okay.

i have a confession to make.

I don’t know how many confessions I can handle tonight Sam. Does it have anything to do with the supernatural or any criminal activity at all?

hahah no not even close.

i just wanted to say i’m genuinely so glad you chose not to. stop talking to me i mean. right now talking to you has been the happiest part of my life.

Y/n damn near gasps. Her chest feels inflated, butterflies flapping wildly inside her. Stupid sweet talker, he’s got her wrapped around his finger.

i just

i forget how everything is falling apart around me when i talk to you.

and now that you know the truth about my… job i don’t have to lie to you either. i can be myself. that’s a welcome change.

I get that.

I can be myself around you too. You’re a bit like

A welcome break from this awful, stupid fast pace my life has. I genuinely need that.

:)

:)

They’re okay. Right? It feels like it. Her head hurts, but she wants to talk to him more. Pretend everything’s okay, pretend nothing’s happened.

So.

Whatcha up to.

research

?

my idiot brother got involved in something.

i’m trying to figure it out.

Supernatural something or just something?

supernatural something.

Ah.

Well thank God your daily entertainment is here to save the day.

what a blessing.

Aww, Sam, knew you had the hots for me ;)

don’t be so full of yourself Daily Entertainment.

You’re hilarious.

i know.

Some time passes.

Hey, Sam?

yeah?

Tell me more about you?

hang on i need a moment of introspection. a guy’s gotta prepare his speech.

Again. Hilarious.

again. i know.

Go on, old man. Stop stalling, I need to hear that speech.

…

Oh I’m sorry, is Sam Winchester offended?

do you wanna hear the damn speech?

Haha yeah, please, be my guest.

This feels good, familiar. In such a short amount of time, Sam has left a taste in her mouth, and it’s honey-like and sweet.  This banter reminds her he hasn’t changed; it’s still the same person she’s been talking to, the same guy.

well i’m sam winchester. my pre-law studies failed miserably. i haven’t slept in the same bed twice in like a month. currently my life can only be described as a train wreck. oh and i have a brother Dean whom you’re painfully aware of and is certainly not trying to stop being a pain in my ass.

am i forgetting anything?

oh yes of course. i’m talking to this really sweet girl who’s made my life a little less shitty.

A line has been crossed tonight. Sam feels it and so does she. And it doesn’t seem like either are willing to go back. Y/n’s nerves are being held taught, breath caught in the back of her throat, and every time he compliments her, she breathes a little shallower.

Damn, she sounds like a catch. Maybe you should keep her around.

i think she’s keeping ME around.

what about you? have you prepared a speech?

No but I’m relatively okay at improv.

oh well i’m listening then.

Well I’m Y/n Andrews. My life’s a different kind of wreck. My job is painfully boring, college is frustrating as all hell, and expensive enough that I’m considering dropping out. And I’m also talking to this guy that travels a lot and has to do really hard and scary things, from what I hear. He also talks very highly of me, which I genuinely don’t understand.

y/n, you’re amazing you know that?

So you keep telling me

well it’s true.

listen Dean’s back. i really have to go. sorry

Don’t worry, I should catch some sleep anyways.

We’ll talk tomorrow?

of course

Goodnight Sam :)

sleep tight Y/n :)

-

A/n 2: How did you like this chapter? Feedback is important to me, let me know what you think :)

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[wordsfromthesol]

Opposites Attract (3/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You are Oliver Queen’s sister, though you retired from the hero life, when Roy asked for your help tracking down a member of the Untitled you couldn’t say no. After all, he was more like a brother to you than Oliver was. Warnings: Language, fighting, death Word Count: 1.0k

Part 1   Part 2

Gathering all the strength you had left, you screamed, “I’m fine, just kill the son-of-a-bitch!” as you slowly stood up. You tried to find the wound but couldn’t see any blood. What kind of magic bullshit am I infected with now? As Roy and Jason were fighting this immortal evil, and apparently magical, man, you snuck away to the nearby warehouse. You have seen magic do terrible things to people and you did not want to be the next opponent your friends had to face.

After a few moments of agonizing pain, you suddenly feel fine. Great, in fact. You begin to head back to the battle, when you notice your body slumped to the floor. Fantastic, that asshole knocked me out of my body. Still, you wanted to make sure Roy and Jason were faring okay, so you floated through the warehouse walls and back to the dock. The two guards had charged back into battle and Roy was holding them at bay to allow Jason to face the Untitled.  You watched in awe as Jason seemed to summon blades from thin air.

“You know what these are?” Jason growled at the man.

“Oh yes, quite so. Though I am quite surprised a mortal like yourself could summon them so easily.”

“I’m full of surprises Slenderman. Tell me, what did you do to Y/N?”

“I’m assuming that’s the young girl who first approached me. How quaint, she thought she stood a chance. I’m afraid there is no getting her back now.”

That’s what you think asshole. You watch as Jason grows more infuriated with each swing of the blades, until one of them finally hits its mark.

“Still don’t want to tell me?” Jason questioned as he held a blade over the dying man’s neck.

“Oh, my dear boy. No.” And with one quick motion the man was dead.

Both of the guards look up in awe, to see their client’s head separated from his body. Upon that sight, they both ran. They clearly did not realize who they had been employed to protect, so there was no point trying to get information out of them.

“Uhm, Jason? Where did Y/N go?” Both look around frantically, searching for your body. You tried to tell them, to touch them, to touch anything really, but it was no use. You were no longer in the same astral plane as your body. Eventually, they found you, lifeless on the ground of the warehouse.

Jason stood there in shock as they entered the nearby warehouse. Roy immediately rushed to your side and checked for a pulse.

“She’s alive.” You wanted to tell them both that you were okay, but instead just followed your body back to the base.

It had been nearly 36 hours since Jason had last slept, but there he was sitting by your body researching on his computer. He had even called Tim for help, and from what you gathered his family relationships were tense at best. Frustrated you found yourself screaming, “JASON PETER TODD GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.” You watched his expression grow frantic and his eyes darted towards your body. Did he actually hear me? You get closer to him and laid your hand on his knee, “Jay? Can you hear me?” Again he looked at your body, and then you watched as his eyes searched around the room.

“Great, I’m delirious.”

“Wait, no, Jay, I’m here!”

“ROY!” Jason called out, “I think I’m going crazy!”

You watched as Roy rushed into the room. “Is she awake? What happened?”

“I don’t know, I think I can hear her.”

“You can hear me Jason! I’m here! Just not in my own damn body!”

“Did you hear that, Roy?”

“Hear what?” Roy walked over and laid his hands on Jason’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I swear she’s talking to me, Roy. She’s answering me.”

“Listen, Jason, as fun as it would be to convince you that I AM IN FACT HERE, would you just call Zatanna?”

“I’m going to call Zatanna, just in case.” Roy just nodded as he worried for his best friend and his sister.

Zatanna came as soon as she could and quickly worked out that Jason was right, you were here. She continued to explain, “Y/N needs a mental tether to this astral plane. This process is incredibly unstable and invasive. The minds of both parties are open and vulnerable to the other. People easily get trapped, either because they cannot find a tether or because of one those involves does not completely open their mind to the other.”

Roy immediately steps up, “How do we do this? I know Y/N better than most, and she already knows everything in mine.”

Somberly, Zatanna looked up at him, “Roy, this isn’t something you can do. There needs to be a sense of intimacy, familial love doesn’t work for this process.” Zatanna turned her gaze to Jason, “You said you could hear her?”

“Yeah. Maybe because of my connection with the Untitled’s magic?”

“That could be, but I’m sensing there is more.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Z, they’ve known each other for a few weeks.”

“Roy, it’s not always that simple. This kind of magic does not respect the rules of time. It could be picking up on something that occurs years in the future. All I know is Jason can hear Y/N, and that requires a powerful connection. One that I do not believe occurs just because he can summon the All-Blades.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I should warn you, once the connection is made, it cannot be broken.”

“You really think I care? Let’s do this already.”

Zatanna motioned for Jason to step closer, as he did, she laid a hand on your shoulder and then his while mumbling, “rehtet eseht sdnim rehtegot os yeht nac emoceb elohw niaga.”

Roy and Zatanna waited for hours until you both emerged from a catatonic state.

“Stay.” Jason mumbled as he embraced you.

[leahxx129]

Fun Fact (Steve Rogers X Reader)

Okay, this one’s for the lovely @waiting4inspiration​ ‘s #staysafestayhomechallenge, my prompt can be found in bold. This is my second fic ever posted on here, but I hope you enjoy it. :) 

Summary: Fun fact: when you’re dying, your life does flash before your eyes. Well, not all of it of course, just the snippets that actually made it worth living. For you this means four memories that portray different stages of your relationship with Steve Rogers.

Warnings: angst, a little bit of smut, character death

Word count: 3.567

When you arrived in the middle of the battle that was raging on in Wakanda, Natasha, Okoye and Wanda were struggling to fight Proxima Midnight. You hit her with a ball of blue fire to aid your friends, and she stumbled back hard.

“How dare you?!” she screamed.

Your only response was another ball, but this time it was a bigger one. It caught her with such force and velocity that she flew against a Thresher and got shredded to pieces.

“Steve’s in the forest with Thanos!” Natasha shouted knowingly.

You ran into the woods as fast as possible and the scene playing out in front your eyes was gut-wrenching. Steve had the upper hand, but he was undeniably struggling, and it was a matter of seconds before he’d lose his advance. A blue blast coming from you sent Thanos crashing into a nearby tree.

“Y/N!” Steve uttered your name, but you couldn’t be bothered.

You appeared in front of Thanos in just a fraction of time and disabled him with the fire. You could hear voices all around you, coming from various people – Thanos bellowing, Steve demanding you to stop, Bucky telling him to flee – but you ignored all of them and closed your eyes, feeling the blue fire rise.

Fun fact: when you’re dying, your life does flash before your eyes. Well, not all of it of course, just the snippets that actually made it worth living. For you this meant four memories.

You clearly envisioned the day you met Earth’s most exclusive redheaded spy alongside with the man who awakened feelings in you that you yourself didn’t even know you were capable of experiencing.

It was a humid hot day in July, your short-sleeved yellow uniform and red apron stuck to your body in all the wrong places, making you feel uncomfortable. You took in a sharp breath as your bandaged palms came in contact with the plates you were supposed to deliver to table 3 and put them down in an instant.

“Hey Mike! I am so sorry, but I just don’t think I can wait tables today… how ‘bout I take up all the orders and you bring them out?” you called out to your co-worker.

“What’s in it for me?” he furrowed his brows.

“I’ll buy you coffee.”

“So, it’s a date, right?” a grin formed on his freckled, yet handsome face.

“No, Mike. It’s coffee.”

“So, it’s a coffee date?”

“Nope, only coffee, Mike. No date. I’ll buy you one in the morning and just give it to you when I arrive.”

There was a moment of silence and his grin turned into a small smile.

“You know you’re lucky you’re hot and I’d do anything for you, free coffee or not.” he said picking up the plates and disappeared.

The diner was packed, a loud buzz filled the place as everybody was talking simultaneously. Having spotted a raised hand, you hurried over to get the order. Sure, your palms hurt holding a notepad and a pen, too, but remotely not as much as when you picked up those full plates.

“Welcome to Pop’s Diner, what can I get you?” you recited without even as much as sparing a glance at the consumers.

“A conversation would be nice.”

Your eyes immediately shot to the speaking man and his companion and widened in shock.

“Oh my God! You… you’re…” you felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you tried putting together a coherent sentence and failed.

“It’s okay, don’t be nervous.” the read headed woman smiled kindly. “I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff and this is Captain Steve Rogers. We’re here on behalf of Nick Fury.” she continued on, making you gasp loudly.

“We’d just like to talk, that’s all. Would you mind sitting down for a second?” Rogers chipped in.

You opened your mouth to protest since you were working after all, but promptly decided against it and sat down across them. When Captain America asks you to sit down, you sit down.

“May I… May I inquire what this conversation is in relation to?” you cleared your throat.

“Your palms.” Rogers stated calmly. He flashed you a smile what you assumed was supposed to be reassuring, but all he managed to do was make you even more flustered.  

“My palms…? Wha- what about them?”

“It seems like you had burned them pretty badly.”

“Uhm, yeah. I was cooking and I didn’t realize how hot the pot was until it was too late.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Agent Romanoff took out her phone and placed it in front of you on the table. A security camera footage started to play and after a few second there you were, making your way through the diner’s parking lot a day ago. When you got to your car, a man pressed you hard against its side. A short grapple ensued and two minutes in an intense light emerged from your palms, making the stranger fall to the concrete. He was weltering on the ground, touching his own face and you just stood there. Satisfied. After a while you got in your car and drove off. The video stopped.

“Wanna re-think that answer?” she asked.

You didn’t even realize that a couple of tears escaped until they made their way down your face. You wiped them away furiously with the back of your hand. You winced when she called you by your name since you didn’t remember introducing yourself, but you shouldn’t have been surprised – you were convinced that by then S.H.I.E.L.D probably even knew what your favorite color was.

“Look, we have no idea what we witnessed on that tape and that’s one thing we’d like to know-”

“Well then that makes three of us…” you cut in bitterly. “ ’Cause I don’t even know what that was… Just to be clear, I did not want to melt that man’s face off even though he attacked me. I just felt threatened, and when I get angry or feel like I’m in danger, this incredibly cold sensation swipes trough me and just... wants to surface. By the time it reaches my palms it’s so cold, it burns… It burns right through my skin and looks like blue fire.”

Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers exchanged a quick glance and the latter started off to Pop’s office.

“Where’s he going?” you asked in panic.

“He’s handing your boss your resignation.”

“What??”

“Relax, душенька. I think you’re gonna like your new job better than this. But first, you’ve got a lot to learn.” she smirked in response.

The second scene playing before your eyes was about the night you and Steve kissed for the very first time.

You won the battle of New York. At a painstakingly high price paid in body-count, but you’ve won it, nevertheless. The city slowly started to revive again and tried getting back to the old routine, but deep down everybody knew that would never happen. The harsh reality that Earth wasn’t the only populated planet and that humans were not the only superior beings in the universe settled in every heart and mind and there was no way of changing that.

Stark of course felt like the victory was something to celebrate so he threw a rather extravagant party in the Stark Tower. You tried to enjoy it, you really did, but you didn’t succeed in doing so. The music struck as too loud and all the drunk people soon became annoying instead of entertaining. Consequently, you grabbed your half-empty glass of whiskey and headed up to the roof top to get a breath of fresh air. The cold gusts of wind felt wonderful against your skin.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, Rogers. I almost threw a blue fire ball in your face.” you said without turning back. He chuckled softly and strolled to your side.

“Sorry, I just had to get away from the crowd. Plus, Stark’s hammered and he insisted on teaching me how to dance. I don’t think I’m ready for that tonight. Or ever will be.”

You didn’t notice how captivated he was when a genuine laughter ripped out of you.

“And here I was, thinking you deliberately followed me up here to finally get me alone.” you looked him in the eyes, smiling.

“You wish, doll.” his expression mirrored yours.

Your heart began racing as his face started to inch closer to yours. Your lips almost touched when a loud noise made you jump apart – courtesy of a very drunk Tony Stark trying to open the exit door with an equally drunk bimbo on his side.

“Whoops…” he said, then went on “… what was I saying? Oh, yes, sweetie, you can totally see Asgard from here. You just have to squint a little, then concentrate real hard and-”

Steve cleared his throat to make your presence known before Tony did something neither of you wanted to see.

“Rogers! Y/N! What are you two doing here? Oh, wait- did he… did he confess to you already?” he asked, looking straight in your eyes.

“Confess what?”

“Stark. Please stop talking. Now.” Steve’s voice was laced with nervousness, but Tony being Tony, did not stop talking.

“That he’s got a thing for you, Darling.” he informed you, then turned to Steve “Ugh, for God’s sake, Rogers, just kiss her already! Because if you won’t, I will!”

“Hey!” the bimbo screamed, clearly offended and went back to the building. A second later when Tony realized what happened he rushed after her shouting he didn’t mean it; he was just trying to motivate a friend. Or maybe he meant it a little, but just a little. Then all the noise died out.

“Soooo… you have a thing for me?” you spoke up after what seemed like an eternity of silence.

“Yes. I do. Although I planned on presenting it to you a bit differently.” he admitted.

“I see. Since it’s confession time, can I tell you something, too?”

“Sure thing, doll.”

You closed the distance between the two of you and stood on your tiptoes.

“I’ve got a thing for you as well, Steve…” you whispered in his ear.

He cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours in response. He did not like booze at all, but if anyone asked what his favorite was, he said whisky, because that’s what he tasted on your tongue that night.

Another clip of your life you were seeing was about the first time Steve made love to you.

You entered your room after a mission gone a bit sideways, exhausted to an extent that’s impossible to describe and with bruises and cuts covering the majority of your body. Steve stormed in just seconds after and slammed the door shut so hard it almost broke off its hinges. His beautiful face was hardened by anger and those blue eyes that often reminded you of the peaceful sea promised storm.

“What the hell was that?!” he demanded in a raised tone.

You sat down in front of your boudoir table and started peeling of your shredded suite very carefully.

“Answer me!” he shouted when he realized you had no intention of getting into an argument with him.

“Well, Cap, we went on a mission that in the end required some prompt, unplanned decisions on our side and I made them. Mission turned out successful. End of story. Is oral summary sufficient or would you like me to hand it in in written format?”

“Don’t “Cap” me, doll. And the attitude won’t bring you any closer to the end of this conversation…” he warned a little bit calmer, but still with a shaking voice.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I just don’t see what your problem is.”

You finished getting out of the top part and stood up to get done with the bottom, visibly struggling. With a couple of quick steps Steve appeared in front of you and tore it apart. You wore nothing but your underwear.

He then grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

“My problem is every single bruise on your body that’s not supposed to be there. Every single cut. Every single wound. Just because you learned how to use the blue fire without getting burnt it doesn’t mean you should use it excessively. I saw the effect it had on you today, don’t think I didn’t. For a split second it appeared as if it was consuming you from the inside…”

“Steve, if I hadn’t overdriven myself a little today, some of our greatest agents would’ve died. And I could not take that risk.” you said with gritted teeth. Tears started to sting your eyes, but you held them back.

“Well, I could! You know what risk I cannot take?! Losing you, doll.”

“I’m sorry…” you said in a small voice without a beat. Apologizing was not your genre, but the realization of how much Steve cared for you just dawned upon you. A mix of emotions took over you – you felt immensely loved, but at the same time, you were scared. “I gotta go take a shower. Will be back in no time.”

You slipped out of his grasp and let the tears flow as you closed the bathroom door behind you. Having stripped your underwear, you stepped into the shower and started cleansing yourself. You hoped the hot water would wash away the shame and guilt you felt, not just the dried blood and dirt. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you jumped a little when Steve opened the shower cabin door.

“Oh my God, you scared me!” but he didn’t say a word.

He pushed you against the cold shower wall and kissed you violently, while his hands explored every curve of your body. It took all your willpower to break the kiss.

“Steve, do you really want our first time to be shower sex?” you asked panting.

“It doesn’t matter where we are, doll. I love you and I want you.” he growled, kissing down your neck.

Every fiber in your body ached in protest, but you ignored them. You ran your nails down his back as he put his hands under your thighs and gently lifted you up. A moan escaped you mouth when he entered you and slowly started moving. Steve swore it was the most beautiful sound in the whole goddamn universe. It was not long before the tension started building up in your body and having noticed this, he picked up the pace. You’d never moaned anyone’s name during orgasm before, but Steve was the only exception. He reached his bliss second later.

“On second thought, shower sex was just great for a first time.” you said, and he chuckled. “Where did you, uh, where did you hear about it?”

“Uhm, do you remember the mission like eight months ago when Stark and I got stuck on a desert island for six days?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, turns out, Stark opens up quite easily about his sensual experiences…”

“Noo. No way!” you laughed as you stepped out of the shower and started drying your hair with a towel.

“Yes way.” Steve followed you and took over the towel to dry your hair. “I also heard about other stuff, but those require a bed.” he smirked suggestively.

“In that case it’s a good thing I happen to own one.” you kissed his lips and wished that day would never end.

The last memory could not have been any clearer and it was breaking your heart all over again.

It was no question who’s side you were on when the civil war between Tony and Steve broke out… You got used to the life being on the run with Steve, Natasha and Sam in no time, although you still missed the others as well. They were the closest thing to a family you’ve ever had, and the rupture pained you badly at times. When Steve decided to collect the rest to unite in the fight against the greatest threat that ever endangered the universe, you were glad. You never knew how this beginning would mean the end of your relationship.

The first avengers Steve decided to recruit were Wanda and Vision in Europe, and frankly, you got there just in time. There’s a chance that a couple of minutes later there would’ve been no one to recruit… Your heart skipped a beat when you realized who you were up against, but you couldn’t allow yourself to ponder – lives were on the line. You helped Natasha stab Glaive and when Proxima Midnight grabbed your shoulder and turned you in her direction to deliver a punch, her fist froze mid-air.

“Y/N?” she asked uncertainly, but you didn’t answer. Sam flew in and kicked her to Glaive’s side. “Your father will hear about this, I promise.” she threatened before vanishing in blue light.

Everybody was panting, the fight exhausted all of you. Other than that, no sound could be heard.

“What was she talking about, doll?” Steve spoke up finally, asking the question everyone was dying to hear the answer to.

You all boarded the Quinjet, but you and Steve went to a separate cabin to discuss matters first.

He didn’t shout. He didn’t hit you or try to kill you on spot, though you were absolutely certain you would’ve deserved it. He just sat there. Quietly. He didn’t utter a word while you were telling him that you, in fact, were not human. You were a member of a species called ‘Inhuman’, which was the result of mixing Kree genes with human ones, and this is the reason why you possess the blue fire. He didn’t say a thing while you were telling him that as a child, Thanos snatched you and brought you up as his own daughter alongside two other girls, Nebula and Gamora, and turned the three of you into the most feared assassins in the entire galaxy. His mouth stayed shut while you were telling him that coming to Earth was a mission ordered by Thanos to gain intel on what was going on here and you were deemed fit for it as you looked like humans.

“But I stopped delivering information years ago, Steve! Do you know why? Because I fell in love with you! And because I realized the error of my father’s ways! He lied to me throughout my entire life and manipulated me into believing his false ideology! Steve? Please, say something, Steve…”

“Leave.”

You were not sure if the word echoed in the room or was it just your own mind.

“What?”

“I said, leave.” he stood up. There was no sign of fury on his face. Only disappointment. You didn’t move, so he continued.

“You were the very first woman I loved after Peggie, which I thought would be impossible for a long-long time… I loved you, Y/N. You saved me in more than one way, and after the war I wanted to settle down with you. Start a family. But you know this damn well, for fuck’s sake… And now it turns out I never even knew you…”

“But Steve, you knew me, in fact, you know me!” you interrupted with a cracking voice.

“No, doll, I didn’t. And I don’t.”

You ran up to him and cupped his face, but he refused to look at you. Your palms were wet from the tears he shed. He peeled your hands off him slowly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I could never do that. But I want you to leave. I don’t care who’s side you’ll fight on in this war or if you decide to sit it out, just whatever you do, stay away from me. God, I can’t even look at you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the sobs surfacing from your chest.

The flashback scenes stopped, and the blue fire was burning more than ever inside of you. Steve had been right all those years ago… if you overdrove yourself, it would consume you from the inside and everything else in your immediate proximity, too. But if this was the only way of defeating your father and saving the universe, so be it. Suddenly, numbness took the place of pain and you subjected to it.

A high number of people showed up to your funeral organized at Tony’s lake house. Everybody placed a white rose on top of your empty casket and expressed their condolences to Steve, but he wasn’t paying attention at all. He tried to, really hard, but he just couldn’t. Tony was the last person to go there and place his rose.

“You know Rogers, I’ve never been one to sugarcoat things and I’m not gonna lie this time, either.” he said, his words making Steve look him in the eyes. “From what I hear… If you had kept your mouth shut, she’d still be here… At least there’s a high chance for that. But there’s also a high chance that half of the fucking universe wouldn’t. Respect her choice... That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Respect your choice... These three words became Steve’s mantra – the first thing that came to his mind in the morning, and the last at night. They were the glue that kept the pieces of his heart together just enough to function as a human being.

[spiderman-homecomeme]

Day Four - Pancakes vs. Waffles

AN: Hey everyone!! I’m back with another day! I was super excited about this one, mainly because I’ve never really written anything with the fake dating trope before, even though it’s definitely one of my favs! This fic is more of what a scene might be in a much longer, story-oriented one. 

Thank you, @spideychelleweek, for setting this all up! <3

Prompt: Fake Dating AU

Please enjoy about 1.1k of sweet, sweet fluff and cheese just all the cheese

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“Not that I don’t trust you or anything…” Peter speaks slowly, scratching the back of his neck. “But...” His expression is pulled together in a look of confusion that is not at all cute, and the hesitance in his tone does absolutely nothing to support the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Do we really have to practice holding hands?” 

MJ huffs, fighting back the urge to roll her eyes into another dimension, though she wonders if he can sense the faint insecurity behind her impatience. “Uh, yeah.” They’d been over this once or twice before. “I told you; no one’s gonna actually believe we’re a thing if you look like you’re gonna spontaneously combust every time we touch.”

He pauses momentarily to do the math in his head, taking her words into careful consideration, before giving a conceding nod. “Okay, yeah. Yeah. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She holds her hand out to him. “Now, c’mon. Take my hand, and try not to throw up, okay?” She teases, the corner of her lip twitching into an unassuming smirk.

Peter huffs in amusement, shaking his head. “Okay.”

It’s only a little awkward, he has to admit; they’re sitting side-by-side on the couch, bodies angled towards one another; if he’d move just a fraction of an inch, his knee would be touching hers, he notes. He’s close enough to go a little dizzy at the vague floral notes of her shampoo, and it takes all of his strength not to take a deep breath in.

(What? He wasn’t smelling her on purpose. She was right there, for crying out loud.)

He takes the leap, folding his hand over hers, silently praying that she doesn’t comment on how sweaty he is. 

“Waffle, don’t pancake,” she says, voice cutting through the air. 

“Huh?”

“Like this.” She wordlessly interlocks her fingers with his. “It’s more believable, according to Google. It’s uh…” Her voice trails off as she stares down at their intertwined hands. “It’s supposed to show a deeper connection, or whatever.” 

“Oh,” Peter breathes. “Cool.”

“Yeah.”

The tips of Peter’s ears are for sure turning an embarrassing shade of red, the room around him seeming to have become a sweltering desert in just a matter of seconds. 

He honestly can’t believe this is happening. 

In hindsight, it may have been a bad idea— for his own sake — to ask MJ to be his fake girlfriend. Maybe. He would never have dreamed that she’d say yes, and he certainly would never have thought she’d suggest they practice being a couple behind closed doors, even if it was just acting.

MJ was all method, it seemed.

It happens in all the romantic comedies, a classic trope, she’d explained; the couple gets thrown off their rhythm when someone asks them to do something that any normal couple would do. Kiss. Hug. Hold hands. It’s wooden. It’s unnatural. 

It’s a disaster-and-a-half.

And then one of them always overthinks it, the other shuts them out, yadda yadda yadda—

“You know, you can probably do some other stuff, too.” MJ breaks the silence again, though her tone is softer. 

Peter’s eyes widen as he looks up at her, head tilting a fraction.

“Gross couple-y stuff,” She elaborates, an amused huff escaping her at his reaction. “Like… you can move your thumb, or something.” 

Peter takes her advice, his thumb starting to trace hesitant lines on the back of her hand. “Like this?”

She’s silent for a moment, heart hammering in her chest. She clears her throat, remembering herself when Peter glances up at her. “Uhm— Yeah. Yeah. You’re doing great, bud. Pal.”

His gives her hand an experimental squeeze, his thumb slowing it’s movements on her soft skin for the briefest of moments. There’s a beat of silence between them, the surrounding air crackling. 

“Is there— ” Peter reddens at the way his voice comes out nearly an octave higher than normal. For goodness sake, they’re literally just holding hands. Get a grip, dude. He coughs in an attempt to bring it back down. “Is there anything else I can do to, uh— sell it more?”

And MJ tries, she really does, to think of what all the WikiHow articles said, but she finds that she’s unable to focus on anything other than just how nice this feels, how crazy her dumb teenage hormones are going now that the boy she likes, and has liked for a while now, is holding her hand. “Uh, I don’t know,” she shrugs, bottom lip poking out momentarily in thought, though she doesn’t take her eyes off of his hand laced with hers; she can’t. “Got any ideas?”

His expression twists in concentration, lips pursed. 

Well, he can think of one thing.

“Uh, well, I guess if we were sitting next to each other— like this—” He gestures between them. “At decathlon or something… then, maybe uhm, I could—” He stammers, shifting in his place. His thumb falters with his voice, and he mentally kicks himself for being so incredibly not smooth. 

He makes the mistake of looking up at MJ. It does a strange thing to his heart, making direct eye contact while holding another person’s hand, especially while simultaneously caressing said hand. It’s such a small gesture, yet so surprisingly and incredibly intimate.

Maybe it was a bad idea, continuing the way they were. 

Maybe they should stop.

Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. That he has no idea what else, what other display of affection, could possibly sell this more.

Maybe he should just—

“Kiss your hand?” The words are spilling out before Peter can do anything to keep them in, though he hastily tries to recover, to retain some sense of dignity. “Just a quick one. Or something— I don’t know. Maybe not that. I was just thinking—” Oh, God, and now she’s just staring at him, eyes blown wide in shock. He keeps going, hoping that he isn’t digging his grave any deeper. “Ben, uh, used to do that when he and May would hold hands… I’ve seen Tony and Pepper do it, too… Gah, it’s dumb—”

“--No,” Michelle cuts him off, and it’s his turn to be utterly stupefied. “No, uh, you’re right. Couples do that kinda stuff all the time.”

Peter’s fully expecting the cartoon anvil to drop on his head at any moment.

“So…” 

Her pulse spikes under his fingertips.

“Go for it.”

He swallows, butterflies erupting in his stomach as he dares to look back down at their joined hands. He flexes his fingers, a shaky smile breaking across his features as his thumb unconsciously continues its previous ministrations.

His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest as he slowly, little-by-little, brings her hand up, his warm breath tickling her knuckles. Her breath catches in her throat, embarrassingly so, as he plants a chaste, fleeting kiss on her heated skin.

They both share a laugh at just how fast he pulls away. “Sorry,” he apologizes, sheepishly scratching the back of his head with the hand not interlocked with hers. “That was... That was bad.”

“Yeah—” Her quiet laugh is forced, strained in an effort to seem natural. “Did you even try? No one would buy that,” she quips, the shakiness in her tone just the tiniest bit humiliating. A stupid, not welcome at all giggle bubbles up out of her throat.

Warmth blooms in his chest at the sound, and he shakes his head, a futile effort to rid himself of the giddiness threatening to take over. He takes a quick, determined breath, bringing her hand up once more. 

He takes his time, the world around them coming to a standstill, and she feels as if she might pass out at the faint brush of his lips on her skin again. 

The kiss lingers for a moment or two, the touch practically scorching. Peter feels as if he might actually faint when he looks up at her before pulling away, her lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyes clouded with something he’s never quite seen before.

He pulls back, a nervous, breathy chuckle escaping him as he glances away. “Better?”

MJ, yanking herself out of her daze when she realizes that she might actually need to answer him, nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah. Better.”

It’s in that moment, when they’re both trying to catch their breath over something so small as holding hands, gazes burning into one another, that they both realize the exact same thing:

They’re both completely and utterly screwed.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG136!

- In a very interesting way for an episode dealing with The Web (both as an active force outside of the Institute and… very close to it: Annabelle sending Alison there, Jon being unable to focus on his lighter), this episode dealt, in a lot of small ways, with the idea that members of the Archives team are… regaining control of themselves and their lives?

Melanie is attempting therapy! She’s cautious about it but she’s taking measures to try and get better, she’s putting efforts into it, she wants to feel better!

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: If you don’t mind me asking, [STATIC:] where are you off to…? MELANIE: Therapy. [STATIC ENDS] … Wait. ARCHIVIST: Oh…! Oh, God, Melanie, I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh… MELANIE: [EXASPERATED SIGH] It’s fine. I would probably have told you eventually, anyway. ARCHIVIST: Even so, I shouldn’t have– MELANIE: Just… forget it. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It’s good, though. I–I’m glad you’re getting help. MELANIE: Yes, well. We’ll see. There’s a… a lot of crap therapists out there. ARCHIVIST: I guess. Still, it–it is a good step.

Jon is right on this and… there was already something hopeful in the way that Melanie didn’t explode at Jon for accidentally compelling her; she wasn’t pleased by it but… she could have shut the conversation down. Instead, she tried to minimise a little what Jon had done and asserted her boundaries, which she did again with the therapist, but without cutting either of them out. She’s clearly not in the bestest of places, was uncomfortable with the topic… but I’m so glad and proud of her for taking this “step”, for deciding that she had to deal with her demons – possibly from way before she even came to the Institute for the first time?

Meanwhile: it wasn’t so much about Jon’s actions but about what he finally admitted – that he’s aware that he made a choice, that he’s actually had… a very twisted and casually self-destructive way of facing the coffin and of considering his own life since he’s woken up:

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else so, if I can maybe stop that happening, and [DRY CHUCKLE] the only danger is to me, I– I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario… the universe loses another monster. DAISY: That’s messed up. ARCHIVIST: [LOW SELF-DEPRECATIVE DRY LAUGHTER] … Yeah. I suppose it is.

It has been a process for Jon, too; the theme of “choice” has been sneakily prevalent in season 4 so far, following up on season 3:

(MAG087) Georgie: [SIGH] Look I’ve, I’ve got work to do. You listen, or don’t listen, or cross-record, or whatever you want, just… just think about it first, okay? You can choose to leave it alone. [DOOR CLOSES] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [TAPE PLAYER IS LOADED] [CLICK]

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: I never chose this! ELIAS: You never wanted this, no. But I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it. In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see. Our world is made of choices, Jon, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean, but we make them nonetheless.

(MAG111) GERRY: Thing is, it’s harder than it looks. What’s out there doesn’t care about blood. […] But they care about your choices, your fears.

(MAG117) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] You– you know what, no. I’m… I’m done with that. No more paranoia. It’s almost got me killed more than once, and… Georgie was right. If I am… slipping, then I need people I can trust. And I… I don’t think that can happen naturally for me an–anymore, so… I’m making a decision. I trust them. All of them. E– except Elias, obviously, that’s not– I mean…

(MAG121) OLIVER: The thing is, Jon, right now, you have a choice. You’ve put it off for a long time; but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but – still too human to survive. You’re… balanced on an edge where The End can’t touch you – but you can’t escape him. I made a choice. We all made choices; now you have to– […] Make your choice, Jon.

(MAG132) DAISY: I don’t want t–to be a s–sadistic predator again… I–I don’t want to… hobble around, like some pathetic, wounded prey either… I don’t know which would be worse. And I’m sc–scared, now, that I’ll never get the choice… ARCHIVIST: One thing I’ve learned, Daisy, is that we all get a choice. Even if it doesn’t feel like one.

(MAG134) PETER: … Look. I’m not gonna pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. It won’t even work unless you’re willing to commit.

(MAG136) DAISY: Get over yourself! You’re always talking about choices – we all made ours. Now I’m making the choice… to get some drinks in. Coming?

So, although his memories are still missing and he might not remember Oliver either (Jon has never mentioned him so far, and given how Jude had been able to kick Jon out of her dreams, he might have done the same thing despite giving a live-statement), Jon is aware that he made a decision – maybe without knowing in the details what was at stake (there could be a few things we could still scream at Elias in MAG092 re: informed consent :w), but he was faced with two options and elected one over the other. It has its own shades of tragic undertones and heartbreak, but it’s also… his own choice, this time around, and still more controlled than “sign papers to become Head Archivist of an eccentric Institute (sells your soul to a Fear god that you’ll now have to feed through other people’s terrors or your own)”. By pushing and questioning Jon, Daisy had been able to make him say what he chose to do (and as seen above, why), and his handling of the coffin was one of such things. Even if, indeed, the Web sent him in that direction (leaving MAG131’s tape for him, maybe manipulating him to some extent through the lighter), Jon, like Martin, is still appropriating what they did as being his own decision:

(MAG134) PETER: What does puzzle me, though, and I mean that genuinely, is… why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin, while Jon was in there. [PAUSE] It’s a question, Martin, it’s– it’s not an accusation. MARTIN: I don’t know. And I just… felt like it might help. He’s always recording, I thought… it–it might help him… find his way out. PETER: Interesting. Were you compelled? MARTIN: [SULLEN] … I don’t know. … M–maybe? I–I, I definitely wanted to do it… PETER: But? MARTIN: I’m… I’m not sure where the idea came from.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: I… [SIGH] I don’t feel like I’m exactly in the best place to judge the… intersection [CHUCKLE] between free will and humanity. Still trying to figure that out myself. [SILENCE] DAISY: Jon… when you went into the coffin. Was it you choosing to do that? Did you actually think you could save me, or was… that something telling you to do it? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: It was me. I was… drawn to it, I’ll admit, but it was my decision.

Jon agreeing to Daisy’s proposition to go get drinks may also be going in his own right direction – back in season 1, Jon would have probably shrugged off the offer? But as Helen told him, “people change” and right there, Jon had a micro-choice; he could have refused and, still, after a small hesitation, decided to go along with it instead.

Of course, when it comes to reclaiming their life back in this episode, the most striking was Daisy; Daisy, who had already explained who she wanted to be (MAG132: “I d–, I don’t… I don’t know who I am without, without the chase… I just know… that I… I don’t like who I was back outside. I don’t want to be her again. I want… to be… better…”) and who, so far, has managed to stick to that; Daisy, who handles herself as best as she can even (especially!) though it requires other people because she wants to avoid being alone for PTSD reasons:

(MAG133) [CLICK–] DAISY: You sure? ARCHIVIST: No, uh, it’s, hum. It’s fine. DAISY: It’s just… Basira’s busy.

(MAG136) MELANIE: Well… uhm. Daisy’s been, erm… I’ve been keeping her company. Er, while… while Basira’s busy. She’s, er… ARCHIVIST: Oh, no, I, uh… I–I know. […] DAISY: [QUICKLY] You’re not babysitting me, alright?! I know that’s what the others think, sometimes, but… that’s not it. I just… don’t like…  being on my own if I can help it. You know. Flashbacks, panic attacks, the usual. Just trying to avoid it if I can. ARCHIVIST: I know, Daisy, I–I do. It’s hard. DAISY: Yeah, well. Don’t let me get in your way.

There is currently something so strong in what we’re seeing of Daisy? In the way she’s aware of her limitations and manages to prevent the conditions leading to potential breakdowns? I feel like she’s following the same logic as when we knew her as a Hunter: when she was seeing a problem, she would just… neutralise it. Hence beating up Mike, hence immediately going for Jon’s voicebox; hence her Cold Factual Violence overall against spooks/vampires/“monsters” of various kinds. Basira had said that she liked Daisy because she was “solid”, because of her certainty, and this is still the same Daisy – though not hurting others anymore! And she pulled an incredible power move:

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: It, uh… Hm. Is, uh… Weird question, but… I… [EXHALE] I haven’t seen you in my dreams? The last couple of weeks? DAISY: … Oh, uh, no. I… I work here, now. I figured it seems to protect the others, so… ARCHIVIST: Oh. Right, so… Wait, did you talk to Lukas, or…? DAISY: [CHUCKLE] Broke into Elias’s old office. Found an employment contract; filled it in, and signed it. ARCHIVIST: And that worked. DAISY: Seems so. ARCHIVIST: And you’re not… worried about… DAISY: Basira’s trapped here. So are you. Not gonna be going anywhere anyway. ARCHIVIST: … I suppose not. So… no more dreams. DAISY: Not of you and your weird eyes. Just the coffin. ARCHIVIST: Is that better…? DAISY: ’T’s mine. ARCHIVIST: … right.

She weaponised what they have gathered, through experiences and guesses, to get free of the dreams she hated! It’s not absolutely clear whether she signed to become an Archival assistant or a regular staff member; on the one hand, Jon’s concern hints towards archival assistant, since as far as we know, the Archives seemed to be their own business, including trapping their staff (though damn, I remembered MAG102 being more explicit on the matter but: actually, no, since Martin saying that regular crew are able to quit was immediately followed by “Hannah just left to have her baby, though.”: was that “though” a “by the way” or a way to tamper what he had just said, and this is the most they can do, but still not quite quit…?); on the other hand, Daisy hasn’t specified what it was.

Anyway: it’s such a POWERFUL MOVE to… 1°) break into Elias’s office, 2°) just sign herself up like that?, 3°) ESPECIALLY given how Elias had initially coerced Basira into signing herself up to avoid turning the scene into a bloodbath, even before being told of the repercussions (that she couldn’t quit, that Elias dying meant that they would die too). What Daisy did sound like a direct answer to MAG092, and I’m loving it, loving that Daisy… just used what they had learnt of the dreams’ mechanism to protect herself and chose to bind herself to the Institute while exactly knowing what it meant, without anything blackmailing her into it. Elias hadn’t bothered to tie her down for who she was? Watch as she’ll decide that for herself.

This is also the first person of Extended Team Archive to… have given herself to The Eye fully knowing what she was doing. You better be grateful for the gesture, Big Eyeball!!! The others had to be misled or coerced into serving you, and Daisy, of all people, chose to give herself to you!!!

(- If Daisy became an Archive Assistant: I hope that she’ll get to read a statement at some point? Well, technically, best thing would be for nobody to read a statement but. Martin did it a few times (and read one in MAG134!), Tim ALMOST did it, Melanie did it twice, Basira did it once… it’s a bit of a Tradition. (And who wouldn’t want to hear Fay Roberts for almost an entire episode outside of Daisy’s own live-statements?! I’m a simple woman, okay.))

- I’m really curious about how Elias and Daisy would interact, now. Would it be biting/tense/mutual snarling, or taunting about Daisy still being a “rabid dog” at heart…? Or precisely not anymore: because Daisy acknowledged in front of Jon that Elias had not been that off about her (MAG132: “Did you ever hear the, the story Elias told me? About what I did. How I am… He, he didn’t get a detail wrong. The Hunt… Hunger was in me all my life.”)…? I also… get the feeling that maybe, the current Daisy might be perceiving her encounter with the Institute as a chance, since it ultimately led to her snapping out of the Hunt (though she would have reasons to want to break Elias’s arm for the fact that Basira got trapped because of him).

- I wonder if Martin saw Daisy’s name pop up amongst the new staff members? Or if Peter just told him right away what she had done? Is Daisy now actually getting a salary from the Institute? (I’m not sure that Elias “We really don’t have the budget for that” (MAG067) had even bothered to pay her when he was using her ~services~ so… drain Peter’s money, Daisy, gogogo!! And Use Your Powers to give everyone in Team Archive a raise, Martin :w)

- The fact that Daisy said that she had broken into “Elias’s old office”… Well, Elias’s office had been characterised by the clock in the background; since we could hear one in MAG126, I was assuming that Martin and Peter were in there (especially since Martin was doing Peter’s directorial work) but had noticed that there was no such sound in MAG134. Were they outside of the Institute? Or has Martin stopped working in Elias’s office since Daisy had forcefully gone inside of it, deeming it unsafe?

- Anyway: Jon-Melanie-Daisy seem to be creating an awkward support network, right now, and it’s ADORABLE and good (+ extra cookies to Melanie for seeking therapy!). They still have trouble talking: there were sooo many pauses and silences when Melanie was in front of Jon; Daisy is still not… super at ease speaking about how she feels (while she’s way chiller when it comes to describing how she broke into Elias’s office. Daisy, ilu.); Jon searched for his words a bit to describe how he was perceiving himself at the moment… But they’re trying and still getting those words out and explaining themselves to each other a bit. And it’s PRECIOUS, godsdamnit.

- ALRIGHT, NOW TO DIVE RIGHT INTO THE SILK-STICHED MEAT OF THIS EPISODE:

(MAG111) GERRY: Nice lighter. You a spider freak, then? ARCHIVIST: What? Oh! Er, no. I-I never really, uh… I never really thought of it. I–I’m Jon. I’m with the Magnus Institute.

(MAG136) DAISY: [SCOFF] She’s… Web. Spider’s sneaky like that. [PAUSE] Like that lighter you’re always using. Where’d you get that? ARCHIVIST: Mm. [STATIC] Good point. We should keep our eyes open. Anyway, how’s Basira doing?

………………. It was impossible to tell whether or not there was static back in MAG111 (at least for me: there was a constant static-y background due to Gerry being there), but here, yep, there was some. So something is DEFINITELY preventing Jon from lingering too much on the lighter (like an oily surface his attention keeps slipping on?) and what it means. … And apparently, he still has it with him – I had wondered if he hadn’t lent it to Martin for MAG118’s plan, burning statements? I mean, maybe he did and the lighter found its way back to Jon anyway, or it was still with Jon during the Wax Museum explosion, but Jon still has it with him at the moment.

How many silken strings have tied around Jon’s body and head without him noticing, I wonder… the episode was about a “Puppeteer”, after all (or… maybe a bit more about the puppets.)

……………….. Sounds like Jon is back to smoking again, too, given Daisy’s comment? And Jon’s smoking habits have been Smelling Like Web Spirit: he had apparently stopped around the time he began to work at the Institute (since he told Leitner he had “been quit for five years now” in MAG080, in February 2017); Elias had ranted about Jon smoking in MAG039 (“He’s not smoking again, is he?”: was it because he knew of Jon’s smoker history? Or because Jon had gone back to… smoking a lot since he discovered that the lighter had been delivered to him in MAG036?); Tim implied that he might have noticed that Jon had been smoking again recently at the end of season 2 (MAG079: “he’s going to do something, and it’s going to be bad. And I don’t mean like ‘sneaking a cigarette’ bad. Like properly bad.”); Jon ~conveniently~ felt the urge to smoke a cigarette and left Leitner alone to face his death (Elias.) in MAG080 (Jon minimised it at the time, but… it means that he had cigarettes on him.); and after that, we only got the mention from Daisy digging through his stuff in MAG091, and him offering Gerry a cigarette in MAG111.

One thing that makes me Hysterical every time:

(MAG091) DAISY: One wallet, brown leather, no cash. One packet cigarettes, Silk Cut. One lighter, gold, spiderweb design.

OF ALL THINGS, JON SMOKES “SILK CUT”

“SILK

CUT”

COME ON, SPIDER, COULD YOU TRY TO BE A BIT SUBTLE WITH THAT BOY?!

- Actual footage of Jon forgetting about his lighter (ft. Daisy):

- I find it very interesting that Daisy was able to notice the lighter and Jon’s lack of oversight about it since… when Daisy was introduced through Basira’s words, Basira explained that Daisy had first been sectioned over a Spider-related case:

(MAG043) BASIRA: […] Daisy was sectioned years before I was even on the force. She’s never been that forthcoming about any of her own experiences. Takes Section 31 very seriously. The most I could get out of her was that she was originally sectioned for something she referred to as “spider husks”. The way she described it, it sounded like she’d found a bunch of shells. The sort crabs leave behind when they grow, but… I could never figure out if it was meant to be the husks of people-sized spiders, or the spider-like husks of people? And Daisy never seemed like she wanted to clarify. I’m sure she mentioned vampires once as well, but… I think she was joking. … Probably. … Maybe…

We have learned, since then, that it wasn’t exactly true: Daisy’s first section’d case had to do with the coffin, but Daisy also told Jon that only her superior had known about it prior to Jon's pulling the story out of her (MAG061). So Basira couldn’t have known that Daisy had lied or dodged to tell the truth, but still… one of Daisy’s first cases had to do with Spiders.

(And Daisy has been ~taking care~ of the vampires, too, which are known for their mind-controlling powers. When Trevor had met a Spider-Woman, he had mentioned that his experience with vampires had probably helped him to identify that the compulsion to get out and get high wasn’t his own… So it seems like Hunters might have a little immunity or at least resistance to manipulation. I’m EVEN MORE RELIEVED that Jon got Daisy back.)

(… And afraid, oh so afraid for Daisy’s life-expectancy, since she’s already so important when it comes to potentially dealing with threats, and being a presence which allows the Archive team to re-form a bit.)

- MAG110 and MAG136 are quite good to listen to one after another, besides Neil Lagorio’s existence – they dealt with the same movie-making world, of Web apparently, and there were some tiny things which were quite interesting? Both statements were given by women isolated from their peers and put into a situation they probably wouldn’t have picked if they’d been allowed to retain more options and Choices:

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “I’d held some ambitions about directing myself one day, but it soon became obvious that that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe if I’d got a feature under my belt before I was outed as trans, it might have been different, but… as it was, this revelation burned too many bridges, and when the dust had settled, it was made abundantly clear to me that I was never going to get a movie of my own. And it was either cinematography, or nothing. So I stayed.”

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “He even kept in contact when I left to have my baby. It wasn’t planned […]. Anyway, even once I’d sorted out childcare arrangements, I found myself… more and more unwelcome in the industry. It wasn’t that people weren’t willing to hire me – by this point I had a hell of a special effects resumé – but the hours you were expected to be working, the way shoots were set up, the culture of drinking, networking… none of it was really possible alongside parenting.”

There was, also, the obvious theme of… the fictions reshaping reality, or becoming a reality: Dexter was obsessed with a Spider that seemed to only exist in his dream of a story, and he recreated it on the set in the end. Neil managed to finally recreate his last story with himself:

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “he would twist his fingers into all sort of bizarre, intricate shapes, until I could see the strings flowing over them… ‘We made them dance,’ he would say, wonder and nostalgia in his voice. ‘Oh… how we made them dance.’ […] He told me later his… greatest regret was not being able to finish his final film. An arthouse piece simply titled Dancer. He never explained what it was about, nor do I think it actually… came out in the end. […] And as I walked away from Neil, the last time I saw him alive… he was dancing. The cables shifting, and moving him in a graceful, sweeping ballet. And he was crying with joy.”

On the theme of “smoking” as related to the Web, it’s ~curious~ to note that it was also present in MAG110 and MAG136’s statements, and not in moderation either:

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “[Brandon Alma] took to the role immediately, with a gravity and a weariness that I don’t think could have been entirely feigned. He was the only one who didn’t seem excited by the movie, and spent his off-hours smoking and reading quietly in one of the trailers.” (MAG136, Alison Killala) “I had to fight every instinct inside me, everything that wanted to burst out in admiration for his work and his… profound effect on my life. But instead I chain-smoked and laughed, trying my best to come across as my hero’s peer…!”

So, hum. Smoking hadn’t been exclusively a Web-thing before (there was of course the Anglerfish’s baiting, and its shells smoking to disguise the odour of death), but I still find that noticeable.

- There is an OBVIOUS problem with the timeline of Neil’s death, from MAG110 and MAG136’s given mentions:

(MAG110) MARTIN: Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, recording statement number 0121403. Statement of Alexia Crawley, given March 14th, 2012. (MAG110, Alexia Crawley) It seems like a sick cosmic joke that that was the day the press broke the news of Neil Lagorio’s death. Half an hour after the cast walked into that building, one of the grips stumbled across the news story whilst idly checking his phone. Lagorio had been privately suffering from Parkinson’s for almost a decade, and had been bedridden in his Connecticut home for the last year.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: Statement of Alison Killala, regarding her time as friend and carer to special effects artist Neil Lagorio. Original statement given 1st December, 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. (MAG136, Alison Killala) “It was almost six months ago when the woman came to our door. […] I don’t know how long I was watching those films. They don’t… It was hard to keep track of time. According to my daughter, I was missing for five months. When Annabelle let me out, Neil was dead. […] She told me to come here. She told me to give them to you. I resisted for some time, but I’m done now. She’s won. And I’d… very much like to go home.”

If Annabelle visited Neil’s house six months before Alison gave her statement, it should have been in June; while Alexia’s statement put Neil’s death before March (presumably February, since Martin added as part of the follow-up that “Apparently, over the last five years, every February, a corpse is found washed up on Redondo Beach.”). It’s not clear either if Alison lived in the UK but she did mention the “UK press” at some point; while according to the official version given by Alexia, Neil had lived and died in the US.

So what happened…? Has someone in the Archives been purposely messing up with the dates regarding The Web…? Were there two “Neil Lagorio”s towards the end…? Did The Web messed up the files a bit through someone? (Noticeable, too: Jon who ~listens to all the tapes~ didn’t mention the echoes with MAG110’s statement, which was read by Martin. Did he listen to this one, or had the tape… disappeared when he went back?)

(I know that the popular theory regarding MAG114’s statement and what was happening in Hill Top Road is “parallel worlds”, but it always sounded textbook Spiral to me – we also have been demonstrations of entities rewriting reality to erase people or twist people’s memories, see the Not!Them and what happened to the statement-giver’s husband in MAG038. But I’m a bit short on explanations regarding the obvious problem of timeline in MAG110 and MAG136……………..)

- Relistening to MAG110, I just realized that someone had completely flown under my radar: Brandon (Brendon?) Alma, the main actor, who… was the one controlling the story and the set, actually?!

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “Most impressive to me though, was a guy named [Brandon Alma]. He was playing the closest thing the film had to a protagonist, a… homeless ex-Methodist minister who’d found himself on the island by chance and served as a connecting thread, wandering between the scenes and the vignettes of the inhabitants, after each ended with their march to the Spider. Brandon took to the role immediately, with a gravity and a weariness that I don’t think could have been entirely feigned. He was the only one who didn’t seem excited by the movie, and spent his off-hours smoking and reading quietly in one of the trailers. It was a shame because, for whatever reason, he also seemed to be the only one that Dexter would listen to. I only saw them talking once or twice but every time, Dexter would be wrapped, nodding at… whatever Brandon might have to say. […] [Dexter] then gathered up the cast and, with Brandon leading them, took them through a small door in the side of the workshop. And they disappeared inside.”

He was playing a character who was the “CONNECTING THREAD” between people getting eaten by the spider, Dexter “would be WRAPPED” and agreeing to everything Brandon told him, and Brandon was the one to lead the actors into the workshop where they were all killed/consumed/drunk hollow, UHUHUHUH. Maybe the book that Dexter had found wasn’t actually the (only?) thing that messed up everything? Or did Brandon come from the book? Was he actually the spider himself, or just there to ensure that the spider would emerge and be fed…?

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “I don’t know when he first mentioned his spider film. It didn’t… bubble out into a full obsession until two years ago, but I know he talked about it plenty before that. […] [蜘蛛が食べている] (Kumo ga tabeteiru). I think that was the name, anyway, something like that; he was normally slurring quite badly when he said it. He thought it translated to “The Spiders That Devour” but a Japanese friend once told me it was actually closer to just “Spiders Are Eating”. According to Dexter, Kumo was an old tokusatsu movie which, he believed, had come out sometime in the mid-to-late sixties. It was about a Spider – just the one, despite the title – that grew to a colossal size and terrorized a small unnamed island off the coast of Kagoshima. What struck him about it, though, was the utter absence of anything resembling a hero or a protagonist. No one fought against the monster, and although there were vignettes in the lives of those under the Spider’s shadow, they all ended the exact same way – with the character in question marching slowly, and calmly, into its waiting jaws.”

(And it would sound EXTREMELY Web to have all the attention focused on Dexter… while the true puppeteer would be somewhere else, hidden.)

- Something striking in many Web mentions is that: it likes Order (… and apparently drinking people hollow – requiring the fluids to sustain itself? To be able to moult and grow in size?)

(MAG127, Breekon) “We had some luggage once. A thrumming, silk-wrapped thing of The Spider, hiding away in an old steamer trunk. We stepped heavy through the dining car and found an old woman near the caboose. 'Something strange in the luggage car,' he said, and I finished as was our way. 'You should come and see it.' She stood and walked with us readily enough, though tears flowed silent down her cheeks and pattered onto the faded carpet. The Spider’s always an easy job – no fuss, no complication, everything planned and prepared. It knows too much to truly be a Stranger, but hides its knowing well enough to endure. We knew she wouldn’t scream as she was hollowed out and drunk.”

(MAG110) MARTIN: Apparently, over the last five years, every February, a corpse is found washed up on Redondo Beach. It will be a shrivelled husk, with all moisture and internal organs apparently removed.

(+ Daisy’s early Section 31 case with the “husks” of people/spiders/etc.)

On the matter of order: the victims in Kumo (MAG110) also weren’t making a fuss when they marched off to get eaten, it was the same behaviour as what Breekon described. Regarding Alison’s story, it seems like although she was officially the puppeteer of Neil’s body… SHE was the one who had been puppeteered around:

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “I became his carer a few months later. It just seemed to make sense. A frugal life, lucrative career and… prickly personality had left him with lots of money but no real support; while my life had left me in a position where I cared… deeply about his well-being and was in… desperate need of money. Everything just… lined up so neatly. […] he threw himself into a new project, one I would never have expected, but that suited my engineering background perfectly. […] I protested, of course! This man was my hero, I–I loved him, and there was no way I could subject him to this… awful indignity. But my objections were ignored, as always, and Neil insisted that this was what he wanted. So I built that… strange contraption. Using the skills I had developed across my whole life, to fill every corner of Neil Lagorio’s house with wood, and steel, and cable. […] I barely even noticed when the harnesses were no longer necessary; when the loops for those hooks were now embedded directly into his body. I must have asked him about it. But at the time, it just seemed like… such a natural progression.

Neil had exactly the Right Person available for what he needed when his body started to shut down; Alison wanted to refuse and ended up accepting. Even before Annabelle came in, it… doesn’t really sound like Alison had been the one in control in that whole situation.

And on the matter of people being at the right place at the right time for The Web’s purposes: SQUINTS at the fact that 2012 was when Jon started working at the Institute. We witnessed Melanie, Basira and Daisy’s first steps there, we know that Tim went to get a job there because he was looking into his brother’s death, Sasha might or might not have been interested in the supernatural for years (it could have been the Not!Them rewriting that bit; we at least know that Sasha wasn’t particularly well-off so… maybe she just plainly needed the money); we know that Martin just happened to be hired after submitting his CV everywhere he could (the question of why ELIAS, who PERSONALLY INTERVIEWED HIM, hired him is… another Big Question), but… why did Jon start working at the Institute? He didn’t particularly expect to Georgie to identify what the Institute was, so it wasn’t a life-long dream of his that he would have mentioned many times as a student…

(Re: the Web and Order, SQUINTSSQUINTSSQUINTS again towards the one particular person who has mostly been associated with that: “loves scheduling”, has specific days on which he eats lunch with the Institute’s librarians, insisted on Tim doing the paperwork for his absences, That One Thing About Keeping Receipts If You Want To Claim Your Expenses (Unless You Die)… that guy.)

- I still wonder how the Web works on people exactly, though… especially given all the talks about making choices and decisions, it would seem a bit odd to end up concluding that “anyway, the Web will make you want and do whatever IT pleases, you can’t do anything about it”…? (Though yeah, THAT is frightening.)

Given that Alison compared herself to Frankenstein, I wonder, in her case, if despite her ~adamant refusal~ to puppet her friend and idol…

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “Even pyrotechnics, while… impressive and visually spectacular, they just didn’t give me the same sharp joy as making something that could move, that came alive, directed and controlled by my hand… I always felt Frankenstein should have been an engineer, not a medical student, as reading that book I couldn’t help but see myself in that obsession. But I suppose everyone’s already done the-monster-as-the-robot, haven’t they?”

… some parts of her didn’t actually want it? And this is how The Web might operate overall? Humans are complex, we’re always mixing up emotions and different desires at the same time; maybe The Web mostly just brings to the surfaces the ones it needs to push people in the direction it wants…? (In that case, re: Trevor and the Spider Woman… it wouldn’t be surprising, as an ex-heroin addict, that some part of him would still feel the tinge of the craving…)

- What was Neil, in the end? Was he a Web avatar who found a way to feed his god mostly through fictions? Was his ex-partner “Gabe” Gabriel, the Spiral’s Worker-In-Clay…? Was he a plain person, able to use some powers here and there? The thing is:

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “his satisfaction with his latest and… as it turned out, last… foray into horror, with The Harvestman. He’d always had a fondness for spiders, he told me. And I of course reminded him that harvestmen… weren’t technically spiders.”

She is right! Though this could be a case of misleading us to focus on the symbols rather than their effects; Neil’s work was… indeed clearly linked to the idea of hidden control:

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “he claimed to be working with Neil Lagorio to make the Spider. Now you might never have heard his name before, but I guarantee you you’ll have seen his work. From the mid-seventies right into CGI, Lagorio was THE name in Practical Creature Effects: suit work, stop-motion, animatronics, whatever the method, he was the master. […] I’d had the pleasure of working with him way back in 1989 on Orbit – a medium-budget sci-fi vehicle for some… aging action star. Neil was working on a twelve-foot tall animatronic robot that featured heavily in the climax. The picture was, unsurprisingly, a flop; but I still remember his work. How he brought a… lump of wood and steel to life. Th–the huge, intricate mechanisms that allowed his crew to puppet it into motion that was so natural you could forget that the back of it was completely hollow…!”

On the one hand, he sounded pretty harmless. On the other hand, there were these “original cuts” (and the cruel broken SMILE you could hear on Jon’s face when he mentioned them while reading the statement was… gosh.). Was Dexter Banks invited to one of those screenings, and is that why he was haunted by the memories of a movie he couldn’t find again…?

-… So, what does it mean for ANNABELLE to send these original cuts to the Institute?

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “There were two sorts of people in the world as far as Neil saw it: those who were worth his time, and those who were not. And if you were in the latter group, he honestly couldn’t care if you lived or died. Not that most people could tell which side of the line they fell on; there were even days that… I wasn’t sure myself! Sometimes, I remember, he would invite people over to his studio that I was sure he hated, for screenings of his “original cuts”. I was quite… jealous of this at the time, as I’d never got such an invitation. But it was probably for the best. I didn’t… realise it back then, but… [SIGH] those guests… they never quite looked the same afterwards. […] She told me to take the films. His… “original cuts”. She told me to come here. She told me to give them to you.”

[…] ARCHIVIST: [INHALES] Statement ends. Hm. Neil Lagorio… You ever see any of his work? DAISY: No. Not really into films. ARCHIVIST: Oh, they were… Well, let’s just say that it’s not a complete shock there was something unnatural to them. Didn’t know we had copies in the Institute, though; let alone original cuts. [CHUCKLE] Records indicate they [PAPERS RUSTLING] ended up in… Artefact Storage. DAISY: Probably best that they stay there. ARCHIVIST: … Yeah. Yes, of course.

(…………. You could HEAR that Jon was dangerously close to going to check them out if Daisy hadn’t reminded him that Jon, No.)

At the time, Gertrude was still running the Archives… but, again, it’s also around that time when Jon integrated the Institute as a researcher. (He said he had been working there for “four years” in MAG001, which was set sometime in the second half of 2015 – though I wouldn’t past it s1!Jon to round up, like, 3 years and 20 days to “four years” to sound… more impressive. However, we know for sure that Jon was working at the Institute in 2012 (MAG051: “One of my first cases as a researcher for the Institute in 2012”).) So why did Annabelle send the “original cuts” to the Institute, and who were they for…? Was it to send a message to Gertrude? Was it because the Web was veeeeeeeeeeeerrrry aware that the boy who had ~gotten away~ (el-o-el) was now working there (and was apparently a bit versed in Neil Lagorio’s work)? Was it a way to sneak into the Institute? Was it for Elias? Was it to avoid the “original cuts” affecting innocent bystanders? Was it a proclamation from Annabelle – demonstrating that the older generation was fading out and now she was taking over?

That last point is something that I really felt with Annabelle’s visit and Neil finally dying (… or moulting like a spider). It’s interesting that in both MAG110 and MAG136, there was something about the character the story was about… not having a keen relationship with modern technology:

(MAG110, Alexia Crawley) “And so it was for the first few weeks. Dexter… clearly wasn’t sleeping. He had insisted on using old equipment and avoiding digital almost entirely, to the point where several of the crew were using pieces of kit they’d never even seen before. This meant that workprint had to be made manually for the dailies, something he refused to let anyone else do.”

(MAG136, Alison Killala) “We stayed in touch over the next few years, even worked together on the Wire-Runner, his one, underwhelming foray into CGI.”

We saw in MAG123 that Annabelle had started working using Internet, though using someone else to achieve it. I don’t have many theories or speculation about that one – I only find it curious that, given how MAG065 had introduced the idea that tape recorders… are digital, too, we’re still not sure about what it is that prevents Spooks from recording on Jon’s computer. Gertrude had commented that the tape recorders were a bit ~old-fashioned like her~ to defend her use of them to Lucia (MAG130), so… I don’t know! But potentially, I wonder if there might be something about the younger generation of avatars being more fit to use modern technologies, because some elements are their own idiosyncrasies while older techs were their predecessors’.

- Hi, do you sometimes get just PUNCHED IN THE GUTS by Jon.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else so, if I can maybe stop that happening, and [DRY CHUCKLE] the only danger is to me, I– I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario… the universe loses another monster. DAISY: That’s messed up. ARCHIVIST: [LOW SELF-DEPRECATIVE DRY LAUGHTER] … Yeah. I suppose it is. DAISY: Did you know the coffin wouldn’t kill you? ARCHIVIST: I– guess I thought imprisonment wouldn’t… wouldn’t be as bad as it was. DAISY: [SHAKY SIGH] ARCHIVIST: And it’s a lot easier to make that choice than it is to actually… endure the result. You might have noticed when I was in there with you, I… I had regrets. DAISY: Yeah. I remember. ARCHIVIST: Plus, I thought… [PAUSE] W– [SIGH] Well, I didn’t know what being down there had done to you. DAISY: You thought I was gonna kill you? ARCHIVIST: I was a possibility. DAISY: Guess so. […] ARCHIVIST: I am alone, Martin is– DAISY: Busy. doing. paperwork. Not like he’s dead. Beside, he’s not the only other person here, you know. There’s me; Melanie; Basira– ARCHIVIST: Traumatised; traumatised; and paranoid, because of me.

;; I’m worried about these missing memories and what it means / what happened… Jon had told Basira that he could remember most of The Unknowing:

(MAG122) ARCHIVIST: My turn. What… what happened to me? BASIRA: How much do you remember? ARCHIVIST: I don’t… Music. Everything was wrong. Gertrude was there, and then… dancing. I think? Then… pain. And I was somewhere else. Dreaming. BASIRA: Dreaming. ARCHIVIST: Yes. …

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: Two years ago. … That doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t feel like… … There’s just this… great… gap of time, where I wasn’t.

Back in MAG122, I had feared that he would have gotten something cauterised in the process, probably guilt, hence Tim’s death being erased… But no, it’s FAR from being the case: Jon has been a guilt-ridden ball of softness and caring and heartbreak since the beginning of season 4. So why are these memories still absent…? What happened in his dreams, for him to not remember exactly how he got to choose…?

(EXTRA-WORRIED since Elias had told Basira that Jon was “at a very delicate stage right now” in MAG127; and as much as I think that Elias probably doesn’t want to risk Jon managing to successfully compel him or extract a statement out of him right now… I’m Really Worried about the fact that he described Jon as being in transition. Choosing should have been the end result, right? So… so what is the next step……………)

Sobbing a lot about the fact that Jon isn’t sure that coming back was worth it, and that he’s been very casually self-destructive about the coffin. He kind of finished his sentence from MAG132 here:

(MAG132) ARCHIVIST: I’m… I’m scared. [SHORT CHUCKLE] When does the fear go away…? A–anyway, I–I’m sorry. You too, Basira, if you’re hearing this. I know you’d… stop me. You’d be right to, but… But if this goes wrong, all you lose is– …  I’m not risking anyone else.

“If this goes wrong, all you lose is” / “worst case scenario… the universe loses another monster”. A o u c h. He’s been the most outrightly emotional we’ve ever seen him in season 3 and 4, he was so afraid of becoming inhuman starting MAG092, he finally chose (and is aware of it) the avatar option because he was afraid to die (that’s one of the most human things he could possibly admit…?), and, since he’s woken up, he has dealt with rejections one after another: Georgie was thrown-off by him badly enough to leave (clearly dissatisfied with… the fact that Jon kept saying he was “fine”, when a normal human being shouldn’t have been), Basira was extremely cautious and still refuses to trust him, slaughter-infused Melanie BLAMED HIM FOR TIM&DAISY’S DEATHS, Martin avoided him time and time again:

(MAG122) ARCHIVIST: Honestly, I… I, I think I’m alright? I mean, that’s… good, right? I… GEORGIE: After a six months coma? No. It’s not. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, Jon. ARCHIVIST: I… What? Y–you, you’d prefer I was… brain-damaged? Dead? Or– […] Georgie, I– GEORGIE: Jon. If this really is a second chance… please, try to take it. But I don’t think that it is. ARCHIVIST: Georgie, I don’t und– GEORGIE: Take care of yourself. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES] [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … What about you? Disappointed to see me alive? … Basira? BASIRA: We can deal with that later.

(MAG123) MELANIE: Tim is dead. Daisy is dead. And you, what? You’re just fine? ARCHIVIST: No, I’ve been in hospital for six months! MELANIE: Something has been in hospital. Something that’s got your face like– I warned Basira, I said not to let you back in here, but she just doesn’t listen! [STOMPING? AND FURIOUS STRANGLED NOISES] ARCHIVIST: Melanie, Melanie: it’s… it’s me. MELANIE: Oh! Okay, so what, “Hi Jon, how are you, get anyone killed lately?” ARCHIVIST: … I… MELANIE: Wipe that look off your face. Like you’re not the reason all of this is happening. Like you’re any better than– ARCHIVIST: [MESSY STUTTERING] MELANIE: –than him! ARCHIVIST: Basira said Elias was gone!

(MAG124) MARTIN: … Look, Jon, I, I’ve really got to go, so… ARCHIVIST: Oh, er, okay… MARTIN: I’m, I’m sorry that you– ARCHIVIST: Wowowow, it was… good t–, it was good to see you. MARTIN: … Yeah. [STEPS LEAVING] ARCHIVIST: … yeah… [CLICK.]

(MAG129) MARTIN: Please, stop finding me. ARCHIVIST: … What happened, Martin? [SILENCE] MARTIN: You died. ARCHIVIST: I came back. MARTIN: Yeah. [OPENS DOOR] I’m not gonna let it happen again. ARCHIVIST: … wait… Wait! W– [DOOR CLOSES] [SIGH] [CLICK.]

(YES, GRATUITOUS QUOTE-COMPILATION, BECAUSE THAT’S A LOT.)

It’s been a rough two months since he woke up, alright. I’m so glad that he managed to get Daisy back: not only it was a victory that actually felt like one (the removal of Melanie’s bullet meant that things got… strained), but Daisy has been asking the right questions and they’re so… like-minded? kindred spirits? lately, two Survivors able to understand each other, that it feels good and… a bit more hopeful.

(- I still want Jon to get the chance to have a discussion with Georgie, to explain himself and what happened, to explain that even though he decided something she’s disapproving of… he still wants to do some good, as much as he can? é_è To thank her for having watched over him and having given him so much valuable advice? For Georgie to accept that Jon did the best he could do in the situation he was in? Basira used to listen to Georgie’s podcast while in the car with Daisy so maybe Daisy heard some bits of it. Let Georgie and Daisy meeeeeet too!!)

- So much for Jon getting a stronger hold on his power, he still accidentally slipped and compelled:

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: If you don’t mind me asking, [STATIC:] where are you off to…? MELANIE: Therapy. [STATIC ENDS] … Wait. ARCHIVIST: Oh…! Oh, God, Melanie, I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh… MELANIE: [EXASPERATED SIGH] It’s fine. I would probably have told you eventually, anyway.

Still too curious and not the best at self-restrain, though… he had been doing way better lately. I think the last time he had accidentally compelled was in MAG114, with Tim? On the other hand: it looks like his Insights are a bit more controlled since, unless he reveals that he has Known for a while, he… doesn’t seem to know about Basira’s activities. So maybe sternly forbidding him from peeking worked with that one, given that he had motivation to not screw things up (even more) between them…? He was a bit more relaxed with Melanie this time around! (Well. And Melanie was way more relaxed around him too, which… says something considering their previous exchanges.)

- What is wrong with Jon’s body. This makes the second mention of casual weirdness, after Jared commenting about Jon’s rib:

(MAG131) JARED: Huh. That’s a weird one. Not sure I like it. Still. Mine now.

(MAG136) DAISY: Not of you and your weird eyes.

Too many eyes, or something else…?

- I’m so emotional over the fact that Daisy is… currently giving back to Jon? Telling him that his way of thinking or his overall situation is “messed up”; reminding him that he’s not responsible for everything that’s happened to Melanie, Basira and herself; pushing him to snap out of it and have a nice time…? The fact that she included herself in the (short) list of people around Jon, and that:

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: And you’re not… worried about… DAISY: Basira’s trapped here. So are you.

She listed him alongside Basira when justifying why her decision to tie herself to the Institute was worth it – they’re in this together and it’s not only just “with Basira” in her mind. It includes Jon.

- … and not Melanie there, BUT!! PROGRESS:

(MAG112) DAISY: Yeah. Couldn’t find Tim, but he’s gone with Martin and… the other one. BASIRA: Melanie. DAISY: Sure.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: I am alone, Martin is– DAISY: Busy. doing. paperwork. Not like he’s dead. Beside, he’s not the only other person here, you know. There’s me; Melanie; Basira–

She marked a verrrry slight pause before saying Melanie’s name but still: Melanie is now her own person in Daisy’s mind!

- And I’m SO EMOTIONAL OVER MELANIE OVERALL but also so proud that… apparently, she took it upon herself to take care of Daisy, and went as far as to go ask Jon to replace her when she couldn’t do it?

(MAG136) MELANIE: Well… uhm. Daisy’s been, erm… I’ve been keeping her company. Er, while… while Basira’s busy. She’s, er… ARCHIVIST: Oh, no, I, uh… I–I know. MELANIE: W–well, I’ve kind of got to… uhm. I’ve got somewhere to be. Do you mind if, if… she hangs around, with… […] [IN THE DISTANCE] Hum, yeah, he’s, he’s fine with it. So… […] DAISY: I didn’t ask her. To do that. ARCHIVIST: I–it–it’s fine.

I’m glad that Melanie makes sure that Daisy doesn’t end up alone, and that… she went to Jon for this ;__; Melanie knew better than everyone how it felt to be not emotionally supported by someone, namely Basira (MAG131: “Basira is… um. Basira deals in ‘intel’ these days, in usable data, assets. Not feelings. Not people.”), so I find this super-sweet that she… is apparently making extra efforts to not replicate the situation with Daisy? Some feeling of community/teamwork has been recreated lately, all around Daisy, and aaaaah… I’m so glad ;; Really sad that Martin isn’t there and that Basira is still closing herself off, but so glad about the faint Melanie-Daisy-Jon dynamic… (And so worried. Because now, I wonder how Jonny is planning to rip it away from us.)

(Though: Melanie didn’t try to set-up for Helen and Daisy to stay together. Is Helen mostly absent/can’t get out of her door much…? Or was it because Melanie didn’t absolutely trust Daisy’s Hunter instincts to not kick back in, if she was too close to a Spook-she-doesn’t-know-yet for long…?)

(I wonder if it’s Helen who suggested therapy to Melanie, or if they talked about it? In any case, having Helen around seemed to have helped Melanie a bit, overall ;__;)

- Though logistically: it’s hilarious that Melanie&Basira probably still live in the Archives, that Daisy is probably doing the same (unclear whether or not Jon Still Has A Home outside)… and that Daisy didn’t even mention that hi, she had signed some paperwork and was now an Official Member of the Institute. It took Jon two weeks to learn about it, and only because he asked about his dreams. (Daisy must have done that quite fast after getting out of the coffin? For someone who “missed dreaming”, she reacted immediately x”))

………………… I’m not sure that Basira will take that the news that Daisy is now tied to the Institute kindly, though, given the current state of things.

- Elephant in the room, Melanie’s ~therapist~ is ringing SO MANY warning bells:

(MAG136) THERAPIST: Right, have a seat. Do you mind if I record our sessions? MELANIE: I do mind. Yes. THERAPIST: Ah? I mean, it’s just for my own notes. MELANIE: I categorically and completely do *not* give consent for you to make any recording of me, ever. Turn it off. Please. [SILENCE] THERAPIST: I… I see. Yes. Of–of course. [CLICK.]

…………………. See, even besides the use of a tape recorder (who would use that in 2018 for very professional, serious and health-related purposes, if they’re not spooky?!), it’s how the therapist handled the act of recording in itself which makes me shiver. During a first session, a first encounter, when you’re supposed to not make the patient uncomfortable, turning it on before asking Melanie if she would be fine with it. Trying to argue with Melanie’s refusal when Melanie explicitly said she would be bothered by it. That small silence before complying – while Melanie was just stating her rights… (Though on that last one, Melanie’s background as a podcaster is showing; she was very efficiently able to state her will without leaving room for any loophole!)

There are many options for What The Deal Is With That Therapist:

1°) A totally normal person who just happens to use tape recorders in 2018 and was startled by Melanie’s professional-sounding declaration.

2°) Someone tied to the Lonely…? It would be a terrifying job for a Lukas, totally twisting the purpose of a therapy by… cutting you off from others? ;; (Peter had mentioned the possibility of therapy to Martin back in MAG120: “Oh! And if you want to talk to a counsellor, the Institute will of course cover any cost.”)

3°) Someone tied to Beholding: Gertrude had the contact information for one (MAG130: “If that’s your primary goal, my dear, I would suggest you speak to a qualified counsellor. We can suggest one, if you like […]. Hang on, let me see if I can find you the number for that counselling service. They’re actually quite good.”), and that last “I see” was quite striking, Avatars tend to make small references to their patrons all the time – though this one could have also been a nod to Melanie’s…

4°) … since the therapist seemed so taken aback by Melanie offering a resistance: … W e b…? Annabelle was even created during, specifically, a psychological experiment (though we don’t know if she was a psychology postgrad herself, or just a random test subject with a different background; the voice sounded maybe a bit too old for someone who still looked like a “student” in 2012, but then Elias is supposed to be middle-aged so, eh). It wouldn’t be the most subtle thing ever but then: given that Jon didn’t give any reason, why did he pick this specific statement this time around? Outside of the statement, who is a “puppeteer” in this episode? Which would raise, once again, the question of What Is Behind tape recorders; and, if Web, what allowed Melanie to not obey: was it because she used to be Slaughter-infused…? (I had wondered, especially after MAG125, about the relationship between the Slaughter and the Spider: the way Elias had specifically mentioned that Melanie had a “visceral hatred of being trapped” in MAG102, was run by “the self-determination you prize so highly” in MAG106, and the fact that Melanie had described him as “pulling all the strings” in return, had left me with the lingering of impression that… potentially, there was more something about Web than Beholding at work here, and that obviously, The Slaughter, being uncontrollable violence and chaos, wouldn’t be the best of pals with the Eight-Legged-Mrs.-Order Fear entity…)

The way Melanie described therapists at the beginning of the episode (“We’ll see. There’s a… a lot of crap therapists out there.” and it’s true, and she’s still trying!!! Good!!) already introduced cautiousness about the whole process; if this one turns out to be Bad, it wouldn’t be representative of every one of them. Still, kinda hoping (for Melanie) that unless this one manages to prove that her first few seconds were absolutely not representative of what she can offer, Melanie will try to find another one elsewhere ;; I’m impressed that she didn’t just go “Nop ahaha bye” when the tape recorder began to get used… without her consent. It wasn’t good when Jon was doing it, but from a therapist, there is something very, verrrry chilling, and this new character absolutely managed to sound as untrustworthy as Peter in just a few seconds ;;

- On the list of worrying things: URKKKKK that… Basira apparently still hasn’t told the others about her visits to Elias. She’s likely doing her own researches, as Elias had suggested, to check if there were some truths amongst what he told her about The Dark’s activities… but URRRKKK that she hasn’t said a word about it yet. Not good, Basira ;; Elias is spilling his poison and she’s drinking it raw – it will most likely mess her up… and mess up the others, too, if they’re not aware that Elias still has, in all likehood, Plans.

… On the other hand, I got the impression that her relationship with Daisy had improved a bit? Daisy sounded less… heartbroken, this time, giving me the impression that, yes, things aren’t perfect, but not excruciating either?

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: I haven’t seen her much since… Well, she seemed a bit… tense, the last few times we spoke. How are you guys– DAISY: [CLEARS THROAT] ARCHIVIST: –doing? DAISY: N–no, Basira, she’s… She’s been good. We’re… together so it’s good. [SIGH] Wish she wouldn’t keep treating me like a china doll. But it’s alright. ARCHIVIST: That’s understandable, I suppose. DAISY: [BREATHING HARDER, FASTER] Yeah, well… What do you think?

See, I can’t really decide whether Daisy’s awkwardness was because it was a touchy subject and she was aware that no, things aren’t fine… Or if it was a matter of “oh lord, no, I can’t tell Awkward Nerd Guy that YES, things have been super-steamy in the tunnels lately, he would probably faint if he knew we were doing it in his Institute.”

(… reminder that in this episode, Jon had to read “He even kept in contact when I left to have my baby. It wasn’t planned, but while I may not have had much time for make-up and monster suits, the bodies inside of them were, er, a different matter.” with his own tongue.) (That’s not topping Timothy Hodge’s statement and Jon’s annotations from its patreon Deluxe transcript, but eh, it was still a beautiful line <3)

And the parallels between Daisy&Basira and Jon&Martin keep piling up! First Basira and Martin both were “busy”; now, it’s the single-minded longing for the other when they’re separated – Daisy having thought that she would never see Basira again when she was in the coffin, and now… Jon’s first reaction when Daisy taunts him about acting like he’s alone being to say that YES HE IS… because Martin isn’t there.

Holy Arceus on top of Giratina, Jon, what would your season-1 self would say about the Current You. (“Things change. People change.” Helen told him a few episodes ago, AND YEP. Y E P.)

- I’m… a bit worried about how Daisy handled Martin, however. It fits her and the… individualistic? bits of her that we had seen: if she sees a problem, she’ll try to deal with it through her own actions – Jon is sad because Martin isn’t there? Then no, she’s not going to drag Martin kicking and screaming back to Jon if she wants to cheer Jon up; she’ll push him to stand back up on his own.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: I’m, I’m not “swanning around”– DAISY: “Boo-hoo, I’m so alone and a monster!” ARCHIVIST: I am alone, Martin is– DAISY: Busy. doing. paperwork. Not like he’s dead. Beside, he’s not the only other person here, you know. There’s me; Melanie; Basira–

1°) She’s partially not wrong? Though I still feel like, without knowing what Martin is doing behind the scenes together with Peter, there would be causes for concern and that Martin… is not in a good place nor there on his own: his lines in MAG124 and MAG129 sounded, more than anything, like he was straightforwardly blackmailed into not talking with the others (we know that, from Martin’s point of view, it’s a bit more complicated and not the end-goal; but still, his insistence to Jon about how he couldn’t hear what he had to say, had to leave, etc…. weren’t reassuring at all). Daisy might be projecting a bit on that one since she has deepened her network since she came back, probably because Basira was astray: she now remembers Melanie’s name, she listed Jon together with Basira as people trapped within the Institute (implying that she would not leave them behind). She might see Jon as hyperfixating on something that can’t be resolved right away, like her situation with Basira…? Unless it’s plainly because “Blackwood” hadn’t impressed her much in season 3 (she doesn’t know him! Even if Jon cares for him, maybe she doesn’t see him as all that valuable), or because… spooks are happening and the Lonely is managing to cut the ties that Martin die have with people, who are now just not finding him relevant anymore…?

2°) So nowadays, people are aware that Martin is doing “paperwork” – are they aware that he’s basically doing Peter’s work as an ~assistant~? Or are they plainly assuming that “Peter Lukas” is his alias…?

3°) ;; I’m super happy about Daisy inviting Jon for drinks, and Basira possibly joining them… but also worried about how Peter might just rub that into Martin’s face? Jon used to not be… social with the assistants. It would be so easy to tell Martin that it’s finally happening because Martin is not there… (And yes, Martin made his choice to protect the others, presumably Melanie&Basira, because Jon was away! And nowadays, it still stands, the fact that it would also protect Jon was only added to the pile! And he was told by Peter in MAG126 that he might “not want” to share what had happened with Jon at the end of it, implying that he would change; Martin knows these aspects of the deal! But Martin is not absolutely selfless either, and there could easily be some envious outbursts at the idea that Jon seems to be… happier, nowadays…?)

(… Martin had been so snappy to Basira in MAG088, and there was the whole talk between Basira&Melanie about how Martin seemed to think they would “steal his precious Archivist” in MAG106; who would have thought that Daisy and Jon would ultimately be the ones to go out for drinks together.)

- ANYWAY, Jon & Daisy & potentially Basira are going out for drinks and I don’t know if it will be an awkward mess or a nice time for all but. The potential for silly Tipsy Activities is strong – trying to make Jon guess ridiculous trivia facts through his Insights? Basira noting that Jon is behaving exactly like Martin presumably did at the end of MAG098 (talking a lot about a certain someone who isn’t really there at the moment)? Daisy sharing cop stories?

(… I also can’t help but think about the whole assistants-and-assimilated gang going for drinks during Jon’s kidnapping between MAG099–MAG102. Worst moment ever until they’re too inebriated to Coherently Think about why their lives suck and… see, that episode from Brooklyn 99? Going out of their way to find the most ridiculous kinda-harmless ways to exact revenge on what’s pissing them off at the moment, ie Elias? … Going to his office to wrap his whole desk in cellophane. While he’s standing there, just unable to do anything (they’re too many and too far gone for his power to work). While Tim is throwing serpentine streamers everywhere, Martin is crying because Elias’s paperweight suddenly reminds him of Jon, Daisy is seductively slurring the worst pick-up lines to Basira, and Melanie had stolen a spoon in the bar and tries to recreate “The Horribly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon” on Elias, again and again and AGAIN AND AGAIN– (maybe Basira told the truth in MAG106 and Melanie had indeed managed to make Elias cry, she just can’t remember about it). Basira was absolutely sober through it all, but when Elias tries to get explanations from her passiveness, it’s a mix of Her Iconic “I don’t know.” and the fact that she’s trying to get better at this new job of watching without doing anything. Elias would almost begin to regret Gertrude.)

Title for MAG137 is out and W O W is that an interesting one?! I have no idea if it will deal with one of the current threads or give information about other ones; it’s… a broad title which works for a lot of things. Tied to a very small mention we got in MAG105, so could be dealing with Gertrude’s studies on The Slaughter (and possibly her dealing with that one’s ritual)? If dealing with The Dark again, there are many angles which could work: attack on the Institute (get to meet The Creature, Jon.), Julia in present-time, Robert Montauk in the past, orrrr even something about the Elias-Rayner relationship that we now know was a Thing? (Though I feel that, if we get some information about that last one, it’s likely to be given in Ny-Ålesund.) Could also work for Hill Top Road, specifically Agnes and Ray? Could work for The Corruption (since The Hive had… personal feelings about The Institute) and maybe shed some light on whatever it was trying to achieve in the tunnels with the ring of worms (ritual attempt, or had Gertrude taken care of that one already?), or even something about John Amherst (Melanie… ;;)? Could work with Gertrude’s activities overall – with Elias, with Peter, with Jude… (Would be hilarious if it was about Elias and Peter, what the heck are you to each other, you terrible beings.) Could also work for Annabelle if it’s about balance? Aaaah, so many possibilities!! And it’s probably not even one that I thought of! =D

… and we’ll be getting a mid-season break, after all. Given how the break had been narratively inserted in season 3 (matching Jon’s kidnapping), will it be the case again and, if it is: what could possibly go wrong that we wouldn’t get a recording in-universe for three weeks? Four episodes left, a rushed trip to Ny-Ålesund could still happen before that and… leave them (/the surviving ones) in tatters afterwards, uuuuh…

[makku-ruko]

Chill pill - descent into obsession

(Monday)

Vaccine: -.-....Anaesthesia is asleep again....

Heimlich: They didn’t give her an alarm clock. Geez, Para is in such high demand it’s pissing ME off. He needs rest.

Ethanol: Ahaaaaah that’s one of the reasons why I don’t miss being here.

Vaccine: Yes but you two are great substitutes for helping along the healing process. Actually, you’re quite vital.

Ethanol: Gee, Vacc, if ya wanted to succ, you coulda just asked ^^

Vaccine: u n s a n i t a r y ò0ó

Ethanol: Whacha mean? -3- I’m always clean.

Vaccine: Yes but chlorine cleans pools and the pools aren’t fully clean either. You are a disinfectant for wounds. And plus, the ejaculate would kill me.

Heimlich: //He whistles.//

Ethanol: Ouch. I’m hurt. I’ll go escort Anaesthesia because I’m so hurt. Boohoo. See ya~ //He waves them off. Ward 6-B. His entrance has been made.// Okaaay sleeping beauty. Time to wake up.

Anaesthesia: ....m...hm...? //She stirs and awakens. Eyes shoot open. She hugs Ethanol. Her voice is naturally quite hoarse.// long.....time....!

Ethanol: 0///0 uh...yeah. //He hugs back and pulls away to look at her.// your uhm...hair got longer...and -w- assets. You look good!

Anaesthesia: //bashfulness. She hugs his arm.// I’m.....late...?

Ethanol: Yep. Para is resting again. I’m convinced those asshats are just using him for a high now. //He starts walking.//

Anaesthesia: mm....your....wellbeing...?

Ethanol: Oh me? I’m fine now. Let’s hope these patients don’t drain me...uh...ahem...you should get new clothes...your robe is shrinking.

Anaesthesia: ..???? //She tilts her head.//

Ethanol: N-never mind -////- /I like the view./

——-

Heimlich: Hey prince Charming and Cinderella, there’s a line now. Hurry up.

Ethanol: Why aren’t you in class?? Isn’t that where your booooyfriend is~?

Heimlich: .....//He turns away.//

Ethanol: w-woah hey, I was kidding— is it that serious??

Vaccine: It’s um...quite emotionally upsetting and a sensitive topic.

Heimlich: Don’t speak for me nerd. Come on, princess.

Anaesthesia: !! //She hurriedly scurries into the room.//

Ethanol: //He watches as she leaves.//...uuuh...did she...always...uhm...

Heimlich: What? You forgot what she looks like?

Ethanol: Hey man, we barely ever see her. Even more-so myself because I’m never really here.

Heimlich: Catching feelings already?~

Ethanol: Am I wrong to?? She’s fucking gorgeous.

Vaccine: To each his own. I agree that she is attractive but you appear to be exaggerating.

Ethanol: Huh?? Well...maybe it’s just me. From now on, let me handle waking her up.

Heimlich: Is that your plan to win her over?

Ethanol: ( ´ ▽ ` ) don’t know. don’t care~

———-

Ethanol: //He leaves room. Class is finished.//

Anaesthesia: //She leaves the room also. Work is finished.// ! Ethan..!

Ethanol: //Goofy smile. He likes the way she calls for him.// (//∇//) Evening, princess~

Anaesthesia: ^^~ //Clings to his arm.//

Ethanol: //“( ´ ▽ ` ) angeeeel~”// Back to your room, right?

Anaesthesia: Mm..!

Ethanol: //begins walking.// Does....this job ever take its toll on you?

Anaesthesia: mm...mm-mm..

Ethanol: //smile.// Strong girl... /you’re amazing/..//“Why is it...that I feel so strongly so quickly. It feels odd...like I can’t control it.”// ..

Anaesthesia: //She is content with the company.//

———

(next day- Tuesday)

Ethanol: ^^ good morning beautiful!

Anaesthesia: ..!! ^^

Ethanol: You’re kinda like a puppy~ got any business being this adorable?~

Anaesthesia: //She shys away, bashful. Her hands are taken and she’s led out of the bed.//

Ethanol: Anaesthesia....it’s a princess-like name. You know?

Anaesthesia: stop...! >\\\\<

Ethanol: //chuckling.// Okaaaay -w-

———-

(Next day- Wednesday)

Ethanol: //opens the door but jumps at the sight of her.// WAHFUCK—!!

Anaesthesia: //soft giggling.//

Ethanol: //“haaaaaaah SHES SO CUTE!!”// Heyy...whacha doing behind the door?

Anaesthesia: //She winks and informs with her index.// Body....clock...thanks to...you... //Gratitude shines in her pearl blue eyes.//

Ethanol: //He is Immediately lost in them. Face heating up.// your....um...you have incredibly stunning eyes...I...

Anaesthesia: //She pauses and watches him flounder. Pulling down her mask, she leans in to kiss his cheek. A soft blush.//

Ethanol: //Frozen. He snaps out of it shortly.// oh uuhm. Work. Yeah. Heheh ^^’

Anaesthesia: //She follows him, clinging to his arm as usual. Content.//

———-

(That night)

Ethanol: //He’s sat on his bed. Breathing heavily. He can’t sleep. Only thoughts of her. They’re making his heart race. “She’s just....I’m....so enthralled...she’s gorgeous...and her hair...her ...eyes....her thighs....” He buries his face in a pillow. “her voice....I want to see her again...but she’s sleeping. That’s creepy.”//...Anaes...thesia....hhhh.... //He is lightly trembling. But he won’t do anymore than hug the pillow.//

————

(Next morning - Thursday)

Ethanol: //Sleep deprived. He exits his room.// hh!

Paracetamol: Oh! Morning Ethan!

Ethanol: Para...then that means...//He races off.//

Paracetamol: Hey wait! You don’t need t— oh wait. I get it. Heheh, GG.

—-

Ethanol: //the door is slammed opened.//

Anaesthesia: !! //Sat in her bed, she yelps in surprise.// E..than...?

Ethanol: ...!! Oh sorry! Sorry... //He closes the door gently. Before meeting her, He’d retrieved a bouquet.// h-hey...

Anaesthesia: //She greets him by smiling with her eyes.//

Ethanol: //He makes his way over and presents the bouquet. Lilies.// These are for you..

Anaesthesia: ! //she clasps her hands in delight and takes them.// ^^!

Ethanol: //He smiles and takes one, brushing her hair aside so he can slide a flower in. Tilting her chin up lightly, he observes her appearance.// A+ plus.

Anaesthesia: //She is bashful once more.//

Ethan: //He grows serious. Taking her hand. The words escape him without thinking.// Listen....You know I think you’re beautiful. You’re amazing and so...delicate... what I’m trying to say is that...I think I have a crush on you and I wanna go out with you..!

Anaesthesia: //She is clueless for a moment but then tilts her head and smiles. A nod is given.// I know....you’ll protect me.....//Her other hand ascends to caress his cheek.// You’re.....so nice... //“And rather delicate yourself...”//

Ethan: //He smiles in relief and leans into her touch. The glint in his eye changes. He’s very vulnerable now.// You’re an angel ^^...!!! Shit! I need to get to work! Okay uhm— I’ll see you later! //He races out the door.//

Anaesthesia: //Content, she waves.//

————

(The next day after work - Friday)

Heimlich: I heard about your tardiness. Oof.

Ethan: Shut up. How was school -3-?

Heimlich: See here you li—

Anaesthesia: //She interrupts, scurrying over to capture Ethan’s arm.// ^^!

Ethanol: Hey baby girl~

Heimlich:.....Uhm...well...

Paracetamol: 0.0 that was..

Vaccine: Really fast.

Ethan: ^\\\^ yep! We’re dating~

Anaesthesia: //She snuggles into him feeling protected.//

Heimlich: I’m...uh...happy for you.

Ethan: -3- the fuck was with that? Either you’re happy or not.

Heimlich: I am. Don’t worry.

Paracetamol: I’m impressed! But you two do look super cute together!

Vaccine: The match is quite a clash. Both strong chemicals. Hmmm...but aesthetically...it looks nice.

Ethan: Aw shucks, you bastards are making me blush~ (//∇//)

Heimlich: mm....

Ethan: Welp, date time~

The others: Have fun!

———-

(That night.)

Ethan: //He’s carrying his beloved. He enters her room and sets her down on her bed.// Are you tired?

Anaesthesia: //Shakes head.// are you....getting enough.....sleep...?

Ethanol: ....no. I-I can’t I just...//He takes her hand. Voice softening and vulnerability returning.// I think about you...every morning....and every night...you’re my everything...

Anaesthesia: //Dreamy-eyed expression.// E...than...

Ethanol: //His gaze shifts from her eyes, to her lips, to her breasts and then to her thighs.//...

Anaesthesia: //She catches his stare and takes his hand, pressing it to her breast. Her gaze fixes on his. It’s a look of trust.//

Ethanol: //He makes sure to register the permission before squeezing lightly a few times. Exploration. Desire.//

Anaesthesia: //She elicits a small sound, breathing growing dense. She hesitantly removes her mask and looks at him once more.//

Ethanol: //He takes initiative and leans in, inches from her lips. He can feel her breath. That glint in his eyes stronger...but her scent is strong. He wants to come closer but the scent incapacitates him. His vision starts to blur and finally he pulls away from her.//...Vacc was right...I don’t think we can go that far....your scent it’s...very powerful...

Anaesthesia: //She is also rather dizzy.// your scent.....also...very strong....

Ethanol: //He bounces back quickly.// but that’s okay! We just....we just won’t do that stuff. //A confident grin.// At least I can hold you...right?

Anaesthesia: //She has recovered and nods quite happily.//

Ethanol: //He stays to chat with her until she feels drowsy and then returns to his room. He recounts the encounter in his head.

“I touched her. Her skin. She’s so soft. I’d never felt....so much desire in my life..it was almost suffocating me...if only I could...get closer. If only I could feel more. See more...” He started breathing heavily again. It trembled. “She was asleep and ...it was so hard to leave...but she was ASLEEP. I could’ve...touched...nonono! That’s wrong and creepy on so many levels... I can’t. No. I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m in love. I love her. It’s fine.” That same glint returns to his eyes. It resembles a heart. He isn’t thinking straight.//

———

(Next morning- Saturday)

Ethan: //He enters her room. Her bed sustains the evidence of her recent presence. Her figure is traceable on the mattress. He approaches, the glint returns. He traces her shape in the sheets. His breath is a little more noticeable. He imagines the shape to fill such lines. A naked body. Her face. Her hair. His fingers trail up to her pillow. He slowly picks it up and lifts it to his face. A strong inhalation. Her scent deteriorates his vision once more. He is idle for a moment and then.// hh!

//He jerks the pillow away and throws it on her mattress, disgusted with himself. He pants in shock, watching his hands in disbelief. Beads of sweat form. He messily wipes his face...more than once. Thoughts of her increase, hitting him like a drug. After a moment or two, he runs back to his room and locks himself in his room. He hasn’t noticed yet that he’s been drooling from the moment he took her pillow.//

//As the day progresses, Heimlich knocks for him— ignored. Paracetamol. Ignored. Vaccine. Ignored. Anaesthesia.//

“I...I feel sick...I’ll talk to you later...”

//Eventually, he falls asleep but it was hard at first. He’s afraid of himself and his panic makes it worse. His dream— he dreams of her. Fulfilling every desire with her.//

————-

(5am next morning.)

Ethan:...//He stirs awake.// ..hh...I need to see her.. //His steps are slow as he lifts himself from his bed. He leaves his room and makes his way towards Anaesthesia’s room. “Her face...her eyes...her hair...Anaesthesia...Anaesthesia...Anaesthesia...Anaes—“ He approaches the door, a sleepy smile on his face. His hand rises to open the door-// !! Wh—-what am I...hh...//He begins to hyperventilate, backing away from the door. Despite his self control, his mind is still full of her. A Suffocating sensation. The glint is more prominent than ever. He can’t go back. With that, he sprints back to his room and trembles. He slumps down against the door and looks at his hands once more in disbelief.// I’m...disgusting...I told him....I told him that I’m gross....I’m....ahahah...hahahahahahah! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! //He then breaks down into tears and eventually falls asleep right there.//

[fajority]

Five times Caleb expressed physical affection exclusively through his cat, and one time he didn’t

I wrote another thing! This is, by the way, @fraeuleinjuhu‘s new Critical Role sideblog, so anyone who wants to follow me here, hop on board. 

Thank you @hippity-hoppity-brigade for being the best & nicest beta I could have hoped for <3

1- It takes Caleb a while to realize what Molly's problem is. In his defense, he does have a few of his own problems that take up about 90% of his capacity at any given time, and while their group has gotten almost uncomfortably close, Caleb has tried his best to stay on its outskirts.

He only notices Molly getting increasingly sharp and snappish with them at first, countering Beau's jibes with more and more cruel retorts, until Yasha takes him aside for what he assumes must be a more or less stern talking-to.

Caleb watches Molly slink around the bar they've wound up in this time, getting steadily drunker and louder. He sits down on the chair next to Yasha for a minute, placing his feet in her lap and tipping the chair back on its back legs dramatically.

Yasha gives him a few absent pats on the legs and then gently removes them from her thighs, and Caleb can practically feel Molly's mood drop.

Ah.

Of course: the circus seemed like a pretty affectionate bunch, even if they didn't always like each other. Their little motley crew is different, warier. More distant, at least physically.

Molly is touch starved and he has no tools to work with it. This place doesn't have a brothel. There are no strangers around that seem susceptible to his particular brand of charm.

Caleb's first idea is to message Jester to give Molly a good long hug, but when he turns to look for her, she's nowhere to be seen. Fjord is missing as well, so Caleb decides against investigating further just in case.

Molly has slumped on a barstool, elbows on the bar, his face in his hands. There's a grin on his face still, but it's holding on by a thread.

Caleb snaps his fingers, and Frumpkin jumps up onto his knees from under the table as if he's always been there, just out of sight.

He makes his way to Molly slowly, cradling Frumpkin to his chest. His decision is made, but that doesn't have to mean he likes it.

"Mollymauk," he greets and gets into the chair next to him. Molly gives him a grunt and an indecipherable stare.

Oddly enough, Caleb has found that he doesn't mind the red eyes at all: He's not very fond of pupils and irises anyway. He finds it much easier to maintain eye contact if he can't see the eyes fixating on him back.

"You look down today," Caleb starts, wavering. "I'd offer you a hug but I'm afraid I don't really, uh, do that kind of thing." Molly raises an eyebrow.

"I'd figured, or I probably would've tried to drape myself over you at some point this evening."

It has all the components of a confession, but it doesn’t sound like one: too annoyed, almost angry.

Caleb shakes off the image of Molly coming up behind his chair, leaning into his space, hands on his chest in a loose sort of hug. A sharp toothed grin pressed to his cheek. It sounds nice in theory, but in practice it will just feel like being crowded, short of breath and panicky and too much weight on him all at once, Caleb knows this.

"But Frumpkin does. I can lend him to you whenever you - uhm - crave - uh - physical contact, if you'd like."

He holds out a hand, and Frumpkin scales his shoulder and walks along his arm towards Molly.

Molly stares at him some more, or at Frumpkin, precariously perching on Caleb's hand. It's hard to say.

"Okay," he says finally. "Sure. Thank you."

He holds out his own arm, and Caleb grips it firmly, making a bridge for Frumpkin to cross, and then he's a purring scarf around Molly's neck, and Molly squeezes Caleb's hand once, very briefly, before he starts scritching Frumpkin behind the ears, mindful of his claws.

Caleb feels himself relaxing a fraction, and he pulls back his hand. That went well, he thinks.

"You can keep him until morning, if you want," he offers before he's even finished the thought. Molly looks at him again, and this time Caleb thinks he can see surprise in his expression.

"You don't need him?"

"I do, but he's always with me, no matter where he is location-wise." Caleb taps his head.

A grin very slowly unfurls on Molly's face. "Are you telling me you are feeling this?" He reaches up with his other hand to scritch under Frumpkin's chin, and Caleb gets an incredibly weird double feeling tugging him in two directions at once.

He tries for a middle ground, which is neutral honesty. "It's - not directly. I get the secondary impressions, if that makes sense."

Molly hums, thoughtful. "What are those?"

Caleb hates every second of this but he started this conversation to make Molly feel better, so he better see it through. He sighs.

"He feels… comfortable. Loved."

Frumpkin jumps down into Molly's lap and rolls up into a ball, still purring loudly.

Molly hums again, one hand settling on the cat. "I'd kill to have that," he says, sounding half serious. "Okay, I'd love to hold onto him until morning, but only if you don't spy on me."

"What would I even -" Caleb clamps his mouth shut on a memory, too late.

"You remember that I sleep naked," Molly grins.

"Vividly," Caleb confirms, and hightails it out of the conversation.

*

2- It happens while they're fighting a group of trolls attacking their camp at night: Beau is, as always, the first to get into the melée, jumping up and onto one of them and delivering a series of kicks and hits against its jaw - until it gets a handful of her and flings her against the nearest tree. She stays slumped against the trunk for a couple of seconds, enough for everyone to see her but not enough to reach her: Jester is occupied healing Yasha, her duplicate trying its best to get the troll to attack it instead of going after Beau again, and none of the others have healing spells or potions left. It's been a long day.

Caleb fires spells left and right, and out of the corner of his eye sees Beau move to sit up ever so slowly.

She's going to get back up and get herself killed for good, he thinks, and snaps his fingers. Maybe he can't reach her in time, but Frumpkin will.

And sure enough, Frumpkin goes from thin air to pointedly curling up in Beau's lap, nuzzling into her hands as she automatically reaches down to him.

Between two spells, he sees her shoot him a look that doesn't quite say fuck you, but it's a near thing. He motions for her to stay put. "We've got this, don't get yourself in trouble for no reason!"

She looks like she's considering to yell back a few choice words, but decides against it. Her whole body is shaking with the sheer effort of staying upright. She doesn't stop petting Frumpkin.

Caleb feels a wave of affection for her that is and isn't his own. He casts Haste on Nott, who brings down the troll that attacked Beau with three clean shots. He flashes her a proud smile and runs over to Beau, as if he could even shield her from any damage. As if she can't handle herself better than he will ever be able to.

It doesn't matter. He's out of spells, no use for anyone. He might as well get out of harm's way.

He sits down next to her, and she pointedly doesn't turn to look at him, although maybe that's her spine acting up. She did hit that tree pretty hard.

"I don't need you to protect me," she says.

Kiri could knock you out right now, he doesn't say. "I'm not protecting you," he says instead, holding out his hands, palms facing outward. "I'm tapped. If anything, you're protecting me."

Beau starts laughing and then very quickly stops again on a choked outbreath. "Thanks for that, Caleb," she says. It falls flat, like almost everything she says, but he thinks she might actually mean it this time.

They sit together and watch the last troll fall as Molly cuts its tendons and Fjord slashes its throat once it's down.

Beau's breathing rattles in her chest like an old woman's. It's all Caleb can do to wait until Yasha comes running and casts her Healing Hands.

"Thank you," he says in Celestial, sung on a sigh.

She gives him a confused look. "I am healing her, not you. Why are we speaking Celestial?"

"She never says thank you. I wanted you to hear it, but I didn't want to make her feel bad about it."

"Thanks, Yasha", Beau says, exhausted. The rattling sound has stopped, but she's still shaking ever so slightly. "That sounded nice. I hope you weren't talking shit about me."

Yasha gives him a pointed look, and Caleb gets up and offers Beau a hand. "Sorry about that. Do you want us to stop?"

Beau takes his hand. Frumpkin jumps onto her shoulder as she slowly gets up, spine popping. She leans her cheek into him, and Caleb feels a shadow of his cat satisfaction. He hides a smile about her conflicted expression.

"I mean, I don't appreciate being talked about, but it does sound really fucking nice."

"I thanked her for healing you, because you were looking that awful," Caleb volunteers.

Yasha flashes him a discreet thumbs-up.

"You're welcome," she says, and repeats it in Common, too.

"Fuck you too," Beau says, and ironically, it's like insults are the only thing she can make sound affectionate. Frumpkin butts his head up against her chin and purrs loudly.

*

3- When Caleb wakes up, screams still ringing in his ears and the heavy memory of smoke in his lungs, Nott's weight on his chest is just this side of suffocating, and he pries her off with shaking hands. She makes a small sound, turning her head in his direction, and he snaps Frumpkin into existence as quietly as he can.

The cat stretches out next to her, almost as long as she is when she is balled up like this. She settles her arms around Frumpkin as Caleb backs away into a corner of the room, choking on memories both real and made up.

Nott slings her arms around Frumpkin in her sleep, and this time Caleb doesn't feel the suffocation of it, just the quiet reassurance. He calms down in increments.

Forgetting nightmares is hard when you have a photographic memory, but Nott's steady breathing helps. When he strains his ears, he can hear the faintest purring.

I don't deserve any of this he thinks, and as he does, Frumpkin lets out a pitiful mewl, and Nott opens her eyes, glowing yellow in the dark.

Caleb doesn't try to hide anything like he would from anyone else. He just sits there and breathes through it, wheezing until he's panting until he's huffing until he's as quiet as he'll get.

Nott is watching him, and then she very deliberately reaches out a hand and starts petting Frumpkin.

The effect is immediate: Just like that, Caleb knows he's safe. More than that: he's worthy of it, too, just this once. He shrugs off the nightmare like a heavy coat and instantly feels exhausted, ready to fall asleep.

And then Nott’s small voice fills the quiet, and for once, she doesn’t sound skittish or hysterical, just sure.

“I know you think that your brokenness is the only redeeming factor about you, that breaking was the only indicator in all this that you're a good person - and I won't try to change your mind about it, although I think you're wrong - but even if that were the case, that still doesn't have to make it a bad thing if you let yourself heal. It's not a betrayal to your parents if you get better. If you let yourself be a good person in the time it takes to learn what you have to learn, it won't mean you disrespect their memory. I hope you know that.”

In the dark, in the privacy of their room, with nothing but Nott’s and Frumpkin’s glowing eyes watching him, he can almost believe it.

"Thank you," he tells Nott, and gets back under the covers. She blinks once, a cat smile, like he taught her. Frumpkin blinks back.

*

4- The next time Yasha leaves, Caleb sends Frumpkin to go with her.

She tries to hand him back over. "I don't know how long I'll be gone," she says.

"Take him anyway." Caleb bends down to Frumpkin to give him instructions. "Go with her until she tells you to leave. Then come back to us."

Frumpkin scales Yasha's leg, and she scoops him up. He climbs her arm and knits himself around her shoulders, and Yasha reaches out a hand to pet him, automatic.

"Don't spy on me", she says, and Caleb promises. "Friends, remember?" he says in Celestial.

"I'll hold him to it. Kick him in the shins at regular intervals so he can never be off guard here," Beau adds, and Caleb nods.

She nods back at him slowly, and turns away. They watch her leave, her huge form and the bright orange scarf getting smaller ever so slowly.

He feels intermittent bursts of warmth throughout the next days, and only thinks of checking in briefly, not only because Beau is holding up her end of the bargain and kicks him in the shins in the most unexpected moments.

Somehow, he doesn't want to lie to Yasha. Even if when he set out to gain her trust he did so because she is scary and strong and it's always good to have someone intimidating on your side. Something about the word friends keeps him from betraying her trust.

He's getting a signature feeling from each member of the Mighty Nein now, almost, he ponders. He can usually tell who snagged Frumpkin without looking: Nott feels calm and safe, Molly feels like a smile. Beau feels affectionate. Yasha just feels warm.

On the fifth day, Caleb feels small and unprotected and off the way he sometimes does; it takes him an embarrassingly long time to link it to the absence of the faint bursts of reassurance he so quickly got used to.

"Do you think Yasha's okay?" he asks Beau at dinner.

She stares at him for a couple of seconds, the way she does when he addresses her without preamble, and then shrugs.

"Don't know. She can probably handle herself."

She sounds miserable as well.

Caleb snaps his fingers once, and then again. Frumpkin comes running towards him, leaping into his arms and nuzzling his hand. Caleb feels the familiarity and closeness, but this time, it's not enough. They are too close in mind.

Frumpkin jumps back to the floor and starts pawing at Beau's trouser leg until she scoops him up with a sigh. She sinks her fingers into his fur slowly, and Caleb is struck with a feeling he barely remembers - compassion. Pity. Frumpkin attempts to lick Beau's face, and she leans back with a grimace: "No - what - that's weird, Caleb - "

"Oh - yes - sorry - " He calls Frumpkin off, who immediately goes to placidly lying in Beau's arms, the picture of a harmless pet. She eyes him suspiciously.

"Did you - did you, like, tell him to lick my face? Because that's really weird," Beau repeats, and Caleb is sure if he gets any redder his head will just explode.

"I didn't think of it as such," he tries to explain, fumbling. "Frumpkin just felt sorry for you and that is what he does when he feels that way, and it has been a while so I didn't remember in time to stop him."

"Frumpkin felt sorry for me." Beau asks, flatly. Caleb nods, and hopes this conversation will be over soon, so he can lie down and hopefully die and stop thinking of situations in which Beau probably also thought that Frumpkin was a part of Caleb in the same way his hands are. All of the laps and shoulders he's sat on. That time he licked Kiri's face. "Mmmhm." Beau gives him a considering look.

He tries and fails to look inconspicuous.

"So, how, how close are you to him? Can you, like, read his mind? Are you his mind?"

"Somewhere in between those two?" Caleb tries. "It's a connection, but he's still a cat. But I still made him. So he's also a part of me, but just a bit."

"So, before Frumpkin, did you never feel sorry for anyone? That strictly his job?"

Caleb feels the blood drain from his face all at once. He sits up stiffly. In Beau's arms, Frumpkin goes completely still.

"I didn't-"

Beau is already shaking her head, horrified. "Oh no, nope, no, I wasn't alluding to that, can we pretend that never happened please -"

Caleb nods gratefully. Frumpkin, less forgiving, lightly nips at Beau's finger. "I know, sorry," Beau tells him, and Caleb relaxes a fraction.

"I just meant," Beau tries again after a moment of silence. Caleb spends a few seconds wishing he had a God to pray to for this to end. To not loop back to before Frumpkin.

"I just meant, maybe you shouldn't distinguish - quite so much. Maybe you can just say you felt sorry."

"But it was Frumpkin. I am just miserable because he hasn't gotten anyone to pet him today and I'm afraid for Yasha and I am hating how lost I am without him. Then you picked him up and he felt - that."

He pauses for a second. "He's better at the interpersonal stuff than I am. You might have noticed."

Beau laughs, a hearty, bellowing sound that lasts until Frumpkin digs his claws into her thigh and she lets out an undignified yelp.

"I - yeah, I might have some idea," she says.

Caleb grins, just a little.

*

5- When they finally find Kiri's parents and leave her with them, Jester is the one it hits the hardest.

Nott is a little teary eyed as well, but she manages to talk through it. "It's almost like we're good people," she tells Caleb at some point, and he nods.

"She made it easy to be," he says.

Everyone is a little subdued, but it's most obvious with Jester. She's walking a little off to the side, not taking part in any of their conversations. When Fjord splits off to talk to her after a while, she sends him off with a shake of her head.

Maybe she wants to be alone. But maybe she wouldn't say no to some wordless comfort, Caleb thinks, and snaps Frumpkin into existence on top of Jester's head, nestled between her horns.

She gives a quiet yelp and sends him a startled look, but doesn't pry Frumpkin off, so Caleb leaves him there, playing with strands of her hair as they walk on. He makes sure his claws are drawn in.

When he feels a brief burst of satisfaction that isn't his own a few minutes later, he chances another look: Jester has reached her tail up above her head and is using it to scritch Frumpkin behind the ears. Frumpkin has closed his eyes and is dozing in the sunlight that filters in through the leaves of the trees they're walking beneath. She's still quiet, but she seems less sad.

By evening, the strange spell has worn off, and Jester is back to her old self: Talking excitedly, scribbling in her notebook, telling everyone who will listen about the great deed they have done by rescuing this child from a monster and reuniting her with her family.

Caleb realizes for the first time how much they need her to keep them sane and kind and happy, and Frumpkin carefully climbs off her head and onto her shoulder to press his face into her cheek. She sets down her tankard of milk to pet him, and then grabs him around the middle and hands him back. "Thank you for your cat, Caleb," she says, in the drawn out sing song voice she gets when she's trying to remember to be polite. "He was very cute and helped me a lot. But I also think he needs more flowers."

"I know, but I can't make them stick to him!" Nott butts in, "They just fall down when he goes poof. Do you know a spell for that?"

"Oooh, that would be a great spell. Let Frumpkin take flowers to the other realm!" Jester slams her fist on the table, startling Beau, who had been resting her head on it.

Caleb smiles. "If I come across one, I will teach it to you," he promises. Then, on a whim, he leans closer to Jester and lowers his voice to ask: "Are you okay?"

Jester gives him a startled smile. "Oh, I'm fine," she says cheerfully, "Just, you know, I have never made any friends before you guys, so it's hard to leave one behind."

Caleb has the sudden urge to hug her, and quells it by letting Frumpkin jump on the table and push into her hand again.

"Well, we'll stay together, so that's six friends you don't need to worry about losing," he tries.

Jester nods emphatically as she pats Frumpkin on the back a little too hard. "And we'll get those diamonds so I won't need to worry about losing you in other ways, too."

She scrunches up her face and headbutts Frumpkin before he can, and if Frumpkin steps on Jester's plate in the following playfight, it's not like anyone but Caleb sees it, so it can remain his secret.

"Yes", he says. Fjord, who is seated two chairs over, starts sneezing in earnest, so Caleb reluctantly disappears Frumpkin, making Jester almost faceplant into the table.

*

6-  When they reach Erdeloch, Caleb thinks it should make Fjord as happy as he gets: Caleb has never seen a body of water so big that it meets the horizon in the distance, and he thinks to himself that they probably won't get any closer to an actual ocean in their travels.

But Fjord is quiet and withdrawn even when Jester invites him to come swimming.

He gets in the water, but there's no joy in his practiced strokes.

Something is troubling him. From the way Molly is watching Fjord from the shore, Caleb thinks he probably sees it too, or knows more than he does. Maybe Fjord had another nightmare.

He summons Frumpkin, who eyes the water suspiciously, and pets him absently.

"Do you think he might be cheered up by a cuddly familiar?" Caleb asks Molly abruptly.

Molly raises an eyebrow. "Fjord is allergic," he reminds Caleb, and Caleb nods. "I know," he says. "But I still have enough incense."

Molly's other eyebrow joins the first. "Oh, that sounds like an incredible waste of resources. I love it."

Caleb knows he probably shouldn't take that as an encouragement, but he does: He gathers coal from their campfire and starts the ritual right then and there, on the shore of the lake, where they can all watch him - and they do, he's half aware of Nott's curious gaze and Jester's questions, of Molly's quiet answers from his other side. He's briefly swamped by a feeling he hasn't had in more than a decade: he feels at home, for the long minutes that his mind is occupied with the ritual just enough to not be thinking how much he doesn't deserve them, and the others in his peripheral, just enough not to crowd him.

Then it's over, his mind snaps back to alertness, and Frumpkin nuzzles his hand, otter-shaped. His fur is softer and more dense than Caleb is used to.

"What is that?" Molly asks, immediately fascinated.

"It's an otter. Pretty close to a cat, but they live in water," Caleb explains. Molly holds out a hand, and Frumpkin pushes his head into it just like he did as a cat. Molly gives a delighted bark of laughter. "Incredible," he says, smiling bright.

"He is pretty good," Caleb says, in a rare burst of pride. He doesn't feel exposed and lonely the way he did when Frumpkin was a sparrow, and this way he is not wary of the water the way Frumpkin-the-cat was. Caleb nods down at him and smiles. "Go bother Fjord," he instructs.

Frumpkin chirps at him and flits off, weirdly off-balance until he reaches the water, and then he's streamlined and as elegant as the cat was on land.

Fjord is diving when Frumpkin reaches him, so Frumpkin dives after him without hesitation.

Caleb looks away from the stilling surface of the water and catches Molly, Jester and Nott intently staring at the lake. After a second, Jester nudges him with an elbow. "Well, go spy on him! We want to know what's happening!"

Caleb looks to Molly. He doesn't know when Molly of all people became his moral compass, but here they are. Maybe it’s because he’s always sure, even if his moral rules only make sense to him.

"What are you waiting for? And tell us everything!" Molly makes a shooing motion as if to push Caleb into the water, and Caleb goes blind and deaf, with Jester and Molly habitually holding onto his elbows so he won't topple over.

Frumpkin has almost reached Fjord when he gets there, still on his way to the bottom of the lake, which is, as Caleb can see now, littered with little colorful pebbles that seem to emit a faint glow. Fjord grabs a handful of them, and Frumpkin does the same, taking one with little blue swirls on it and holding it carefully as sand muddies the water where they stirred it.

Fjord looks over to Frumpkin, and for a second, Caleb sees surprise on his face, melting into a genuine smile. He slowly holds out a hand as if trying to gain Frumpkin's trust. Frumpkin puts the stone he picked up into it, startling Fjord into a laugh that leaves his mouth in a few bubbles that rise towards the surface. Reminded of where he is, he quickly pushes off the ground and swims up, Frumpkin at his heels.

Caleb relates everything to the others as it happens, and feels Jester's hand tighten on his elbow in response.

Fjord reaches the surface and gulps in air, sputtering a bit.

"Hey!" he calls over to the two colorful globs Frumpkin can barely make out in the distance. "I found a friend!"

Frumpkin chitters and swims around him to clamber on his head.

"Well done, Fjord!" that's Jester's voice, drifting over from the shore.

"Say hi to Frumpkin!" comes Molly's shout, a second later. "Caleb made him this way specifically so you could stop sneezing!"

For a second, Fjord stiffens. He probably doesn't appreciate anything that even remotely resembles a prank, after the kind of childhood he seems to have had. Frumpkin jumps off his head and swims around him in a wide circle to gage his expression.

Fjord gives Frumpkin an appraising look, and then it eases into a grin.

"Thanks, Caleb," he says, quietly, and gives Frumpkin a pat. "'ppreciate that."

"You're welcome!" Caleb yells across the lake before he can talk himself into pretending he wasn't just spying on his friend, and he pulls back just in time to hear Jester cheer and Mollymauk give a big, hearty laugh.

After that, Frumpkin and Fjord set out to collect as many of the pebbles as they can for a delighted but decidedly dry Nott, and between the splashes and the low, encouraging voice Fjord uses to talk to Frumpkin, Caleb feels well and truly appreciated.

It has been a while since that feeling last wasn't associated with murder and obedience.

Caleb leans back on his elbows between the two tieflings and allows it to heal him the tiniest bit.

[pixiesstolemyapples]

Stormy Nights Chapter 5

A/N: Sooo I am simultaneously hyped and extremely nervous for S7, so I’m just gonna post this and leave!! Deep breaths, people, deep breaths. Nonetheless, please enjoy the chapter!! If you want to read this on my FanFiction or my AO3, please click the links!

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5

               Pidge was running through a dark tunnel, her legs so hot and painful she thought they would give out before she made it to the end. Almost there. I'm almost there! She was so close, so close she could almost feel it in her grasp. She had been waiting for this moment for so long, her whole purpose up to this point was only a few long strides away and-

               There he was, standing at a desk with his back to her, his messy brown hair sticking out in all directions, exactly the way hers does. She couldn't help but smile ear to ear, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. He turned around, his amber eyes on her, a wide smile appearing on his face as he opened his arms to her.

               "Matt!" Pidge cried, running towards her brother, tossing her helmet to the side and throwing her arms tight around him. Tears streamed down her cheeks, pressing her face into his shoulder as she sobbed, so happy to have her brother back in her arms.

               "I'm so happy to see you, Katie," he said, setting his hand on the back of her head. "But you're too late."

               "Wha-"

               His hand, like a blade, cut straight through her stomach. Her breathing haggard and labored, she set her hand on the forearm penetrating her abdomen, shakily looking up at her brother as blood spurt from her mouth.

               "Mm-M-Matt....." she stammered, wheezing as he yanked his arm out of her. She fell to her knees, hot tears falling over her cheeks, clutching her stomach as she felt warmth spill through her trembling fingers, slowly looking up into his dark, empty purple hued eyes.

               The sound of the witch Haggar's voice resonated from Matt's mouth, a low, sinister laugh penetrating Pidge's ears. "All is lost, Paladin. Suffer at the hands of your own flesh and blood!" the voice screeched as Matt's razor sharp hand drew back and flew right at her face.

               Pidge gasped, opening her eyes with a start, huffing as she realized it was just a nightmare. Maybe the worse nightmare she'd had yet. She'd always only ever had nightmares about her family getting killed in front of her by an enemy, but this was the first time Matt... had been the one to kill her.

               She closed her eyes, reorienting herself, opening them back up to view her dark room. Why was her room so dark? Why weren't the lights around her bed on? Finally fully waking up, she realized she was tangled in bed with another person. Literally. Tangled.

               Pidge was squeezed against Lance as close as she could be, her arms folded up to his chest. Her legs were curled around his, one of his arms under her head like a pillow as it wrapped around her head, the other arm draped over her side, his hand resting on the middle of her back. She was almost going to freak out just a little until she realized that it was her idea to sleep in the same bed as him. She also remembered that this was not her room.

               She peered up at Lance's sleeping face. He looked so calm, steadily breathing in and out, feeling his chest move against her with every breath he took. Even through the dimly lit room, her eyes adjusted enough to almost clearly see Lance's dark face. He had tiny freckles that speckled his face in random places, his lips were slightly parted as he breathed, Pidge still smelling the hint of spearmint from his toothpaste. She tentatively reached her hand to his face, cupping his cheek in her hand, gently rubbing her thumb under his eye. His skin was so smooth, likely from his hygiene regimen, Pidge carefully running her fingers down his cheek, just barely letting her thumb touch his soft, smooth... inviting... lips...

               Lance suddenly stirred, a groan escaping his throat as Pidge quickly removed her hand from his face before he cracked an eye open. His deep blue eyes stared into her amber ones for only a moment when the two quickly untangled from each other and sat up, staring away from each other. They sat in silence for who knows how long before Lance finally spoke up.

               "Soooo..." he began, pulling his leg up to his chest and setting his elbow on his knee. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. He'd woken up next to this girl several times now with little of an explanation as to why they were still doing it. "What exactly... happened last night, Pidge?"

               Pidge had a hard time looking his way, embarrassed that she could already feel a hot blush reddening her cheeks. She huffed, reaching down to grab her glasses from next to the mattress, crinkling her eyebrows in thought.

               "Well, I haven't been able to sleep properly for weeks," Pidge stammered, careful not to look in his face. "I slept fine when you, ehm... helped me during the last nights on Quaid, a-and I finally fell asleep after helping you play Killbot Phantasm a while back."

               "I remember that," Lance spoke up. "I fell asleep without even noticing not long after I beat that dungeon."

               "Y-Yeah, well..." Pidge desperately tried to find the right words to say next. "It's been weeks since then and I haven't been getting much sleep, so when you said you hadn't been able to either, I... I-I..." she trailed off, tentatively glancing toward him. His face was awash with concern, his eyes getting big for just a moment.

               "You wanted to try to... sleep with me again to see if we'd actually fall asleep this time?" he finished for her. Pidge sheepishly looked at him once more, sighing and squishing her hands to her cheeks.

               "Next to you, sleep next to you," she stammered. "I'm sorry, it was such a stupid idea, I-I didn't mean to force myself into your bed, I should have just stayed in my room and counted to one thousand or something instead of pushing you around so-" she started babbling.

               "I'm gonna stop you right there because I'll be honest, it was the best sleep I've had in weeks," Lance interrupted.

               Pidge looked up at him in shock. "Wha-What? The best what in what?"

               Lance couldn't help but laugh, nudging her with his shoulder as she stared up at him in disbelief. Finally getting his composure back, he said, "Pidge, 1. You didn't force anything. If I was gonna be even a little uncomfortable, I would have told you, 2. Even before that, if I thought you'd be uncomfortable, it wouldn't have happened in the first place, and 3. As always, you were correct."

               "C-Correct?"

               "Yeah," Lance said. "Remember, after you pushed me onto the bed, you said 'I want to try something'. This had to be it, right?"

               Her face got red as she pushed up her glasses. Well at least he listens to me. "So.... I guess my conclusion to this experiment would be..."

               ".... that we sleep better if we're.." Lance stammered, "next to each other?"

               "Well, how many times out of four have you slept better when next to me?" she asked him. At that moment her amber eyes glowed despite the dim light of the floor paneling, as if they were sparkling with both nervousness and curiosity. It made Lance's stomach flip over just a little bit.

               "Um," he said, biting his bottom lip. "Well, four, I guess. Fallen asleep faster, even."

               "I'm the same..." Pidge said quietly. She hugged her legs, setting her chin on her knees as she sat in thought a little bit more. It was ludicrous though, right? How could she possibly sleep better next to Lance of all people? Although she didn't really mean the 'of all people' part; he was an incredibly empathetic person, able to know exactly what one is feeling at any given moment. He gave amazing bear hugs, his hands were always so warm. And as awkward as it was, waking up tangled in his arms made her feel immensely secure, as if nothing could hurt her in his enveloping, protective embrace. And he smelled so incredibly good, the mixture of avocado and aloe vera making her heart almost skip two beats. Everything was an important factor in why she was able to sleep better next to him, but it still made her feel very awkward. She could remember wanting to sleep in between her parents in their bed when she was younger, so what exactly was the difference there? Besides maybe the fact that those were her parents and this was an incredibly tall, cute olive skinned seventeen year old boy sleeping next to her instead.

               Did I just admit he was cute? Pidge thought to herself. What is wrong with me lately?

               Lance spoke up, shocking Pidge out of her whirlwind thoughts when he touched her arm. "So.... what do you want to do now?" he asked her curiously.

               Pidge put her thumb to her lip in thought, a little afraid at what she was going to say next. "I guess... we could try again...?"

               A blush made its way to Lance's cheeks, looking away and scratching his cheek. "W-Well, if you want to, I mean.." he trailed off.

               Pidge huffed, slapping her hands gently to her cheeks a few times before throwing her legs over the side of the bed and standing up, holding a hand out to him. "For now, let's just get up for the day and get there when we get there," she said as he took her hand, tensing her arm as she helped him up from the mattress. He side smiled and nodded, the both of them heading for the door.

               As the two walked out, a person suddenly rounded the corner, nearly bumping into the two.

               "Pidge?" Keith said, his eyebrow quirking up as he saw her walking out the door, noticing she was still in her pajamas. "What are you doing in Lance's room so early in the morning?"

               Pidge blanched, panicking to find words that don't scream 'Oh I was sleeping in his bed with him'. It wasn't like they were doing anything bad, but it still wouldn't go over well with everyone else if they found out Lance and Pidge were sleeping together.

               Next to each other! NEXT to each other!!

               "We uhm," Pidge stammered. "I, w-we..."

               "We were up late playing Killbot Phantasm," Lance said nonchalantly.

               "And you just left Pidge to sleep on the floor while you slept in your soft bed?" Keith asked, crossing his arms over his torso as he scrunched his face.

               "What, no, of course not," Lance shot back.

               "So she slept in your bed and you on the floor?"

               "No, I-"

               "In your bed with you?" Keith asked heatedly, uncrossing his arms and his hands balling into fists. Lance put his hands up in defense.

               Uh oh, Pidge thought, her eyebrows going up in shock. At that moment however, Pidge noticed something off.

               "No no!! It's not like that!!" Lance stuttered, trying to find his composure as the black haired paladin stared him down. "We just, I, we both, on the floor, both of us fell-"

               "Hey, why are you in your Blade of Marmora armor?" Pidge suddenly asked, crossing her arms and scrunching her eyebrows in irritation.

               It was Keith's turn to get defensive this time. "Oh, I..." he breathed through his nostrils, knowing that he was going to get backlash afterwards. "Kolivan has a mission for me. He notified me late last night and I was hoping to slip out before anyone woke up. Just..." he looked down, a strain in his gray eyes before looking back up to Pidge and Lance. "Just don't tell Shiro and Allura until after I've left, please." He had a pleading look in his eyes. Pidge sighed, flicking her head towards the end of the hallway. Keith smiled, relief washing over him as he started stepping down the hall once more, pulling his hood over his head. "Thank you. I'll be back soon." And with that, he was gone.

               "I wonder what he's doing on these missions," Lance said quietly to Pidge.

               Pidge sighed. "It's none of our business, apparently," she said sadly. She grasped Lance's sleeve, looking up at him shyly. "Um, so...?"

               "Just, meet me back here tonight before you go to sleep, and we'll..." he trailed off for a moment, trying to find the least embarrassing words he could for their situation. "Corroborate your theory tonight."

               Pidge laughed, holding her hand to stomach as she tried to stifle her giggle. "Yeah, we can do that," she said, walking along to her room. She stood in front of her door as it whooshed open, glancing back at him. At that moment, his dark blue eyes gazed back at her, his lips curling into a smoldering smile that set her heart on fire. Her eyes got wide, quickly stepping into her room and shutting the door as fast as she could, setting her back to it and slowly slipping down until she softly landed on the floor. She grasped at her shirt over where he heart was, feeling the frantic beating underneath. She glanced over at her two blue and green space caterpillars, sleeping and snuggling next to each other on one of her trash paladins. As visions of his olive skin, the smoothness of his cheek, his unbelievably deep blue eyes began flooding her mind. She wondered what it would be like to tangle her hands into his silky chocolate brown hair, what it would be like to press her lips to his soft, warm mouth.

               Her face was incredibly hot, pressing her hands to her fiery red cheeks.

               Oh no.

[ruvatia]

MaintenLance III

Pairing: Lance x Reader Word count: 2,8k Context: You wake him up in the middle of the night because you appreciate space rocks. (lowkey doesn’t really work anymore because this was all written during season 2-3 but that’s ok) Pt1 (xxx) Pt2 (xxx)

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BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

The girl woke up in a flash, looking at the universe hologram that had   suddenly summoned itself in the room. She hurriedly got up and threw her blanket aside, Lance slowly waking the moment she pressed the “dismiss alarm” button.

“What’s up?” he asked groggily.

“There’s a Kromerran nearby! We have to go get some of its metal!” the girl said, practically jumping into her clothes. “Come on, Lance!”

“Urgh, god, please no. Remember how we almost lost the ship last time?”

“Come on, this metal is half-titanium and half-rune! There’s almost nothing like these wonderful creatures!”

“Finnneeee.”

You’re so lucky I have this gigantic crush on you I swear.

After what seemed like an eternity to her, she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him all the way to the main control room. There they both did the usual route towards Blue and set off for the closest Kromerran.

During the past two months since her awakening, it’s happened three times where Lance would be awaken in the middle of the night or disturbed while he was relaxing to go hunting for rare or special metal with her. Not that he hated it, seeing her excited and hearing her talk about what she loved (also he got to learn about new things which wasn’t unwelcome when she was teaching him) but it did get a little tiring to always be there for the rock-loving dork.

“After this one, I’m not escorting you unless it’ll really be useful.” he said with a big yawn, more cranky due to his lack of sleep. He just knew that when he was going to get back on the ship, he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, and neither would she.

“Okay. Promise I’ll tone it down a little bit after this one.” she grinned as they approached the planet.

Lance raised his eyebrow at her. “A little bit?”

“Everything is very useful if you know how to use them properly.”

“And you know how to use everything?”

“I like to think that I do.” she giggled, making him sigh as he looked at the planet they were approaching.

Lance noticed that it looked a little bit like a Balmera from afar and questioned about it.

“You’ve been to a Balmera already? That’s incredible!”

“Is it? I was only there for a short while though.”

“A Balmera is a great grand beast that can produce quintessence crystals, while a Kromerran is one that can produce quintenssence-compatible metal. Sure, quintenssence can be found a little everywhere, but the metal from these creatures just have a better, uhm, flow for it?”

“Soooo, Kromerrans are like Balmeras’ sisters or something like that?”

“I guess so! That’s a very nice way to put it, actually.”

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Lance let the lion land on the planet, the two stepping out of the beast with their arms linked. She seemed to know an awful lot about Kromerrans, but she couldn’t lie: it was her first time seeing one. And as luck would have it, it was a Kromerran untouched by Galra claws.

It was breathtaking. The creature was stunning upon further exploration, and the caves seemed to all link to the core, that, again, resembled a Balmera’s. It was less colorful, since what the creature had to offer was metal but everything still had the same vibe. Mysterious and most definitely alive.

“So uh, do you think we’re gonna have to do a ceremony thingy to be able to extract the metal?” he asked, looking up at the gigantic core with her. Now that he thought about it, the one he saw on the Balmera was smaller. Does that mean that this creature is healthy?

Lance turned to the girl, only to see her staring at her own reflection with wide eyes. There was a huuuuuge crystal that stretched just a little above her head. It rivaled the size of the core, but it wasn’t as shiny. Lance noticed this, and wondered why she was looking at herself.

“Hey, you listening?”

“Y-yes!” she said, turning to him in quick motion. “What is it?”

“Ceremony thingy to extract the metal?” he shrugged.

“Yes, r-right. We’re a little short-handed so we’ll have to manage with just the both of us. We don’t need that much. Blue can only carry so much after all.” she said, brushing some of her hair to the side. Didn’t help much.

“Hey, Blue can do anything he needs you to do. Trust.” he said, a smug grin coming on his face.

“Of course, Lance.” she grinned back, making his heart skip a beat.

Even though he was pretty cranky about half an hour ago, her smile always managed to instantly wake him up. Honestly he was scared that he would grow used to seeing it and thus lose his way to wake up so easily in the morning, but at the same time, the thought of her smiling more, at his side was really, really nice.

“If only the bunk beds were a little wider…”

“Did you say something?”

“UHM, NO. IT’S OKAY.” he answered in a robotic voice, his shoulders immediately hugging his neck. “I UH, UH, RIGHT. DID YOU SPOT A GOOD ONE?”

The girl grinned at him. “Yup! I think I saw a good one while we walked on the surface.”

She slowly let her fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him away from the core’s room. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Oh wow she was touching him and he wasn’t ready for that.

The girl dragged him back up to the surface, making sure that he was always either beside or behind him. Lance realized that he liked it better when he was beside her, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it yet.

“A little more time.” he thought to himself. “Just a little more time.”

The moment the blue lion was in sight again, the girl stopped and turned to him. “It was around here, I believe.”

Recently it’s been like this. She would touch him gently and there would be a lingering warmth that always made him crave more. Her fingers were a little rough, but he expected that since she was working with big parts, screws bolts and magical stones or whatnot.

Lance looked around him as their hands refused to separate. Most of these resembled the castle’s crystal, but smaller, and… Darker. He was staring at their reflection in a bigger one, until he let out a yelp as he was pulled from the front.

“Here! This one!”

“T-this one?”

“Yeah! It’s a peculiar shape, don’t you think?”

“Peculiar, you say.”

It looks like half a deformed butt is coming out of the ground.

“It’s unique.”

“Of course it is.” she said, finally letting his hand go. “Come, I’ll prepare to take it with us.”

Lance let his hand hang in the air before it returned to his side. “Right. Be right there.”

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“Heave-ho!” She let out with a big huff.

Lance pulled the best he could, the girl pushing what had come out of the ground. At first the crystal seemed to become smaller, but then it decided to become bigger again. This form was complex, compared to others, or maybe it was bigger than they thought it was and had many more bumps like this to come. Thankfully however, the shape popped out thanks to their relentless effort.

“Whoa!”

It fell at Lance’s side, the ground immediately closing after the stone had separated with the creature. Lance and the engineer looked at what had come out, a familiar shape coming to mind.

“Hey, it..” the girl started, gently caressing the stone.

“It looks like a heart. Well, sort of.” the brunette shrugged.

The girl nod, slowly lifting the stone with slight difficulty. “I’ll shape it when we get back to the ship. Oh, right! Take the small one too.”

“The small one?”

“It seems the Kromerran gave us this one and another small shard.” she said, gesturing the smaller piece with her chin.

Lance saw it a few feet from him, and picked it up. He had nowhere to put it for now, so he left it in the palm of his hand as he helped the girl carry the bigger one back to Blue.

Back on the ship, she immediately got to work. She sanded the smaller one first, and then grabbed one of the smallest drills she had. Curious, Lance peeked over her shoulder and approached his face to her cheek.

“What are you doing?” he asked over the drill.

To answer, she stopped the device to look up at him.

“It’s a secret.”

“What? Come on, don’t be like that.”

“It’s no fun if you know what I’m doing with this one! Run along, wait downstairs!”

Pouting, Lance retreated down the ladder that led to her workshop and dragged his feet to Blue.

“How rude, am I right buddy?”

He received a silence from the lion, but imagined him talking back and nodding.

“Women.” he would say.

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After thirty minutes, the girl came back down with the smaller shard now spherical, with odd carvings here and there. Lance pointed at it with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s all that?”

“Drawings. I had one of my machines laser them all on it.”

“L-laser?” he repeated, reminding him of tech from his world. Guess some things are just universal. Lasers being one of them.

“Mhm. Come on, let’s lay down.”

“Lay down?”

“I drilled a hole under to let me place a light there. I sanded the sphere so that it’s thin enough to let most of the light pass in some places. It’ll act like a projector.” she explained, Lance following him across the hangar.

“A-and you did all that… In the span of thirty minutes?” he asked, blinking quickly.

“Oh Lance, who do you think I am?”

“The craftiest person in the universe right now, why?”

A giggle escaped the mechanic as she placed the little projector on the ground. It was connected to a small button by a wire that Lance figured to be the on/off switch.

“Come, let’s close the lights.” she said, taking his hand again.

“But of course.” he answered in his usual flirty manner.

The girl laughed, turning her head. She hoped that he didn’t noticed how red the tip of her ears were turning red.

Before turning the lights off, she brought out a flashlight from one of her pockets.

“Wouldn’t want to trip out way back here, would we.” she grinned, Lance mimicking her expression.

She pushed the button, and the room turned dark. She switched the flashlight on, and lead Lance to the device she had left on the ground earlier. He was a little impressed that she had remembered exactly where she left it. The mechanic didn’t even need to wave the light around to make sure of where it was.

“Lay down, I’ll go get some blankets from upstairs.”

“Blankets?”

She nod. “I found them as I was working earlier. Wait here.”

His eyes followed the only source of light up and down the stairs, looking at the blankets that she had brought back.

“Are you planning on sleeping here?”

“No. I’m planning on laying here.” she said, spreading the bigger one across the ground. She sat on it and then stretched her legs before Lance sat down beside her, flinching when she suddenly closed her flashlight.

“Whoa, it is really dark.”

“Hold on, I’ll fix that…” she said, reaching for the switch.

The room lit up with clouds, mountains, rivers and the sea. There were two sceneries, one being the sea and what seemed to be under it and the other was a field with mountains in the background. It was something that you’d see Van Gogh painting, since the machine didn’t have the best accuracy on a metal such as this one. The lines on the images seemed nervous and tense, but calculated and exactly where they needed to be.

The mountain seemed to resemble a volcano a little more, with the top being pretty flat and all, but the field was something that Lance hadn’t seen in a long time. He had seen many clouds here and there upon many planets during their travels, but none compared to the fluffy ones they found back home. To his mind came along the image of Pidge geeking out at the clouds that were made of pure acid or metal or whatever else.

The other side of the room, representing the depths of the sea showed mostly dinosaurs, and other creatures that were extinct. He couldn’t recognize much of what he could usually see in textbooks. Same with the flora in the image. He didn’t know that many plants, but none of these seemed like modern plants. It looked more like something he would find in a prehistoric picture book.

A complicated emotion came over his features, but the only thing she could clearly see on his face was a small smile.

“Huh, pretty close to the real thing.” he said softly.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s not all that realistic, but I can make most of these out… Sort of.”

“These are images I’ve taken from the Blue Lion. Ten thousand years in the crust of your planet, after all.” she chuckled.

“Yeah. Most of the creatures from the ocean side are extinct though, probably.”

“Extinct? They couldn’t move to other ocean to live there?”

“I mean, yes but no? Our planet’s surface is 70% water, just like our human bodies, but the water isn’t the same everywhere. We don’t have technology to travel to other galaxies like you guys either. We already have a lot of trouble getting to the end of ours.”

The Kerberos mission flashes into his mind for a second, but that seems so far away now. Lance looked away from the lights momentarily, but then focused on them again as he continued.

“The creatures on this side existed waaay before humans ever did. We call them dinosaurs. They dissapeared because their surroundings weren’t livable anymore or a meteor killed them all. But everyone doubts that it’s the second one.”

“Well, if there was a small amount of them…”

“I don’t think so, we’ve found too many remains for there to be a few.”

“Remains? From such a long time ago?”

“Yep. Just bones though. Scattered here and there around the world.”

“On land? Even though these dinosaurs are aquatic?”

“Oh, we had some that live on land too. Come to think of it, the animals that live in the oceans and lands of earth today are all their descendants. Either that or they’re weird hybrids because earth is constantly changing.”

The girl turned on her side, looking up at Lance.

“Will you… Tell me about it?”

“About… Our planet’s animals?” he said, looking back at her.

She nod with her eyes shining, which he found hard to refuse. But he did anyways, averting his eyes and scratching his chin lightly.

“I… I don’t know that much about them. I didn’t really study up about those kind of things. Pidge would be a better person to--”

“Just tell me what you know about your planet then.”

He turned back at her. “H-huh?”

“You can just tell me what you know. It doesn’t have to be detailed or planned or smart. I just…”

She bit her lips before she continued, he didn’t miss that.

“I just want to know what it’s like… What it was like for you before you became a paladin.”

He felt his heart stop. She… Wanted to know more about him. She was curious about his life and what he went through. He didn’t know what to start with though. It always started with someone talking about themselves, be it him or them, and it just came out. No one’s really asked for him to talk about himself.

“Will I… Hear about you then?” he asked, turning to his side to face her.

“I don’t… Have much to say about myself.”

RIGHT, SHE HASN’T REGAINED HER MEMORY YET.

Lance felt a very strong blush come to his face was he was getting ready to roll around in embarrassment, but she spoke up before he could even move.

“But the moment I remember something, I promise you’ll be the one I tell first.”

He felt his blush deepen.

You’ll be the one.

That hit him hard. Too hard.

“Okay.” He managed to squeak out.

Until she fell asleep, Lance spoke of everything he knew of earth to her. Eventually, she scooted closer and closer to be able to hear him better. Sleep was getting the best of her and she couldn’t hear him all that well because he was getting tired too. Eventually, they ended up close enough so that they were nestling against each other. Eventually, Lance pulled the blanket above her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t too cold. Eventually, her eyelids became too heavy.

Before she fell asleep, she could’ve sworn that he had whispered goodnight.

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