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neoculturetravesty · 4 years ago

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We met in online class - Part 4

Image taken from here. Originally had this image in mind but Tumblr won’t let me upload it.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Happy Easter to all who celebrate it!

It’s funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. You don’t realize you have a new favorite word till someone points out you’ve been using it so much. You don’t realize you’re addicted to caffeine till you get headaches from withdrawals. You don’t realize you can’t live without dessert till the sugar crash hits. And in the same way, Renjun didn’t realize he had gotten used to your company till he’s waiting outside your lecture hall with an almost expectant inclination to see you.

A lot of it had to do with who you were as a person. You had pretty much infiltrated Renjun’s life, even though he still kept you at an arm’s distance. One day, he had walked into the library and found you with Jaemin, while the two of you had your heads together over a laptop and a huge gift basket in the making on the table. Jaemin wasn’t the kind of person who invited a lot of new people into his life; so he must have really trusted you because it wasn’t the last time Renjun saw the two of you together.

But worse than Jaemin was Donghyuck. Renjun was pretty sure that since you’d asked him out, you had probably hung out more with Donghyuck than with him. Almost as if seeing Renjun was just an excuse for you to hang out with him, as you had often joked. It was as if the two of you were kindred spirits, long lost best friends who had finally found one another. Donghyuck would invite you everywhere, get up to no good with you in tow; and before Renjun knew it, the two of you were even planning parties together. Neither Donghyuck nor you needed Renjun as an excuse to hang out with one another anymore, and it amused him. A part of him wondered if Donghyuck was playing along to help his bigger cause. But his friend always looked so genuinely happy around you that any ulterior motive he might have seemed to have been forgotten.

“Why can’t the sun always be like this?” you said as you laid on the grass using your backpack as a pillow. Your hand was reaching out over your face, your fingers wiggling as you played with shadows.

While you soaked in the sun, Renjun chose to sit under the shade of a tree, sketching away in his book, completing his assignment before his next class.

“You wouldn’t appreciate it as much if it were always like this.” Renjun replies, not looking away from his work. He much preferred paint over charcoal, but he had to admit that the scratching sounds it made against the grains of paper--coupled with the chirping of birds and gentle ruffling of leaves around him--was really relaxing. As was your company.

“Hmm. But it’s still nice to see it without fine dust couture. I like seeing it fully in the nude.” you say, a soft, funny smile on your face while your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Pervert.” Renjun accuses, smiling as he drew. It just makes you laugh and lay sideways to face him. You prop up your head on your hand.

“I’m the sun, Huang Renjun. Now draw me like one of your French girls.” you say in a comical voice and Renjun actually laughs without reservation.

“Do you have any more classes?” he asks, fixing his black and gold rimmed glasses over his nose.

“Nope. I’m done for the day. Yeri’s supposed to pick me up, so I’m just waiting for her call.” you say, rolling onto your back once more, resuming your dance with the shadows.

Renjun hums a reply as he sketches, but really, he’s thinking that he hadn’t formally met Yeri. At least not yet. He had just had two very awkward run-ins with her the couple of times he had been to your apartment. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to your place since that last time. And you had never been to his place at all.

It wasn’t on accident, though. All of it had been by Renjun’s really convoluted design. He had met a few of your friends on campus in the passing, sure. But you were more a part of his life that he was yours. That is exactly what Renjun had planned. Lately, however, that plan seemed to be fading away into the ether. Slowly but surely dispersing from memory till it was more or less abandoned.

Because Renjun did not realize that he had adopted you like a habit. Any time he saw a witty meme, he had to send it your way because you would text back with an equally witty reply that scratched Renjun’s intellectual itch. Any time Jisung would bring home a baguette, he would take a picture for you with a caption like ‘Francophile life going strong’. The two of you had even developed a silly game where you would look at different marketing taglines and wonder if it would still work to sell condoms.

‘Nike. Just do it.’ Renjun had once texted.

‘That is a low hanging fruit, Huang Renjun.’ you had replied.

‘Okay, true. But how about Imax: Thing big.’ he had texted back.

‘Hmm, almost but not quite. I need something stronger.’

‘BMW: Designed for driving pleasure.’ he had actually found himself scrolling through a long list of taglines while his assignment laid forgotten.

‘Oof. Now you’ve found the sweet spot. Keep going.’ Renjun had smiled at your reply and had found himself hurriedly looking for something better.

‘Geico: So easy, a caveman could do it.’

‘Mmm, didn’t think you were a kinky boy, Huang Renjun. Go on…”

Renjun had actually laughed out loud, making Jisung look up at him quizzically and replied ‘1010 Wins: you give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’

‘Yessss! Right there, right there!’

Renjun hadn’t even realized he was grinning wide and standing up from his desk, a list of taglines open both on his laptop and his phone while he scrolled to find the perfect response that would make you happy. ‘Rice Krispies: Snap! Crackle! Pop!’

‘So close, so close, I am almost there!’

‘Washington Post: Democracy dies in darkness.’

‘THAT’S IT, THAT DID IT, THAT HIT THE SPOT!’

Renjun had actually belly laughed at the entire conversation. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this way because even Jisung was looking at him with an amused smile, asking “What’s so funny?”

So yes, Renjun had adopted you like a habit. But it wasn’t just through text. When you weren’t the one waiting for him on campus with a couple of cups of coffee in hand, he found he would go looking for you. You would spend all your free time together, just like this. He would find himself missing you on days he didn’t get to see you. He found himself disappointed when you didn’t have time for him because you and Donghyuck were on a very important mission or you had to meet your friends or you had extra work that was demanding your attention. You had just inserted yourself in his life in such a manner that Renjun didn’t even notice.

Perhaps you had nothing to do with it, but Renjun’s life had been treating him pretty well, too. Maybe he was more inspired these days, because his work was getting better and his professors were noticing. His painting instructor had held him back after class one day and offered him an internship at his studio. While it wasn’t huge, it was enough that Renjun had thrown his fist in the air in celebration as soon as he had left class. And you were the first person he texted and he was glad he did because you had texted back a freakout that made him grin like an idiot. You had come to see him as soon as your own class had ended and you had flung yourself in his arms and had jumped around excitedly before dragging him along so you could buy him an artist’s apron as a present.

“Do you have any more classes?” you ask him as you stare at the evening sun through your fingers.

Renjun’s about to reply when he is interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and sit up, telling Renjun “Hold on…” before answering it. “Are you here, Yeri?”

Renjun goes back to scratching away in his pad, thinking. Maybe he should introduce himself now when Yeri comes to pick you. But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s friend?’ Everyone on campus knew that the two of you weren’t exactly just friends. It was thanks to your stunt during that one online class, where he’d met you. ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend?’ But he wasn’t that, either. While the two of you had become pretty comfortable in each other’s company, you hadn’t really done anything, or had any serious talk about what you were. You two always found yourself tiptoeing “the line”. Actually, no. It was Renjun that tiptoed that line. After his two failed attempts to kiss you, the conversation had just not taken that turn ever again. You two hadn’t leveled up on the PDA front, either. Sure, you had cuddled into him in the back of the cab that one night, and he had half-carried you to your apartment till Yeri took you from the doorstep. But you didn’t seem to remember any of it, so it was basically back to square one. Sure, you had hugged him in joy when he had gotten the internship, but did it really count when the two of you hadn’t even held hands yet? Aside from the innuendo-filled condom tagline talk, the two of you hadn’t really done anything that would constitute as… something a couple might do.

“Okay, but how long would it take?” you’re saying into the phone, a gentle crease growing between your eyebrows. Whatever you heard back must have been distasteful because you grimace. “Okayyyy, Yeri, I’m hanging up now!” you say pointedly and groan, laying back into the grass.

Renjun chuckles “All good?”

“Yeri has brought home a ‘distraction’.” you say, making air quotes, and a face like you’ve tasted something sour. “I’m banished from my own home for the evening.”

Renjun looks up.

He thinks about his next words carefully. “Um… what are you gonna do?”

You groan once more and say “I’m probably going to crash at Lia’s till my exile is over. So inconvenient!”

“You could come over to mine.”

Renjun didn’t know how it happened, how he found the courage to think it and then actually say it out loud, but now there’s no going back because the two of you are walking down the hallway to his place. He doesn’t know why, but his throat is a little dry and he peeks over his shoulder to see that you seem a bit nervous as well. He takes a deep breath and decides to break the tension.

“Here we are.” He says as he punches in the code. He holds the door open “Hello, MTV. Welcome to my crib.”

It works because it makes you smile. “So, this is where the magic happens.”

“Mhmm, but I hope to God my roommates have at least attempted to clean it up some, because I did text them a head’s up.”

“Lead the way, Huang Renjun.” you say and he does. He walks you into his living room where Jisung is currently sitting, playing video games. The smell of something delicious makes his head turn towards the kitchen where he finds Jaemin.

“Hey, Y/N!” he calls out then wipes his hands on a towel before coming in to give you a hug.

“Hi, Y/N!” Jisung says without looking up.

Renjun is amused and a little confused. Perhaps you and Jaemin got even closer while he wasn’t noticing, but Jisung? When had the two of you met? By the looks of it, Jisung was comfortable enough with you that he wasn’t even minding his manners and greeting you properly. Probably because he was too busy dwindling his thumbs on his controller furiously.

“Damn, Jisung, you’re really going at it, huh?” you say to him easily.

“Mhmm. I would’ve been doing even better if Jaemin hadn’t interrupted and kicked me out of my own room because you were coming over.”

There is a two second silence before Jisung’s audience of three begins talking at the same time.

“Jisung!” Renjun yelps, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, no, we aren’t going to like… do anything--” you find yourself explaining at the same time, face heating up.

“Jisungieeee!” Jaemin also sings out to scold, yet he grins as he mock-chokes the boy.

“You are so dead.” Renjun gives the back of Jisung’s head a death stare.

“Nooo, our Jisungie means well, don’t you, Jisungie?” Jaemin coos while Jisung dodges his kisses.

Renjun shakes his head and places a hand to your arm to guide you along. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve made food if you crazy kids get hungry!” Jaemin calls after you and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while.

His friends being, well, his friends was probably worth it because Renjun is feeling a lot better as he brings you into his room. It had been a while since he had brought a girl over and looking about, he can tell that his mates did a good job at hastily cleaning it.

“Damn, Huang Renjun. You’re a clean boy.” you’re saying as you look about. “I thought you’d be the artfully messy type.”

Renjun grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We can mess it up together if you’d like.” But Renjun mentally smacks himself in the head as soon as the words leave his mouth because you’ve looked up at him and quickly looked away, muttering something awkwardly.

“I… I didn’t mean that. I just meant with like, paint and, like…” Renjun blows air out of his mouth and then your eyes meet. Before you know it, you both are giggling at each other because the awkwardness is probably making you a bit delirious.

Renjun watches as you take a deep breath to stop the giggles and turn to start looking around. “Oooh. Mr. Fancypants is a tea connoisseur.” you say as you run your hands over his teabag display box.

Renjun chuckles “Do you want me to make you some?”

“Sure. Let’s have tea, Mr. Fancypants.” you take a seat on his wheelie chair and your eyes go to the artist’s apron you had bought him that is currently hanging on an easel. You give it a fond smile.

“What flavor would you like?” Renjun asks as he puts the kettle on and sets up two mugs.

“Umm… I don’t know tea. I’m a coffee drinker.” you reply, your fingers tracing over the pictures he had at his desk.

“I’ll make you a simple chamomile, then. I’ve seen you and Jaemin enabling each other’s coffee habits and I don’t approve.” he knots his eyebrows.

“Oh no, no, no. Jaemin is on a different level. I took a sip of his coffee by mistake once and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I don’t know if that boy drinks coffee or straight up cocaine.”

Renjun bites his smile because he’s still holding onto the look of disapproval. “That would explain the random spikes and falls in his energy.” he says as he pours out the water in the mugs and seeps the teabags. “Here you go.” he sets your mug on the desk and takes a seat on his bed.

You take a sip “So, which one is your bunk?”

“Top.” Renjun also wants to make an innuendo but he stops himself because the awkwardness surrounding the fact that you and him are alone in his room has only just subsided with the tea.

“Isn’t the bottom bunk more comfortable?” you muse as you drink. You seem to be enjoying your tea because you haven’t set it aside yet.

“Of course it is. It’s why Jisung has it.” he comments, cocking his eyebrow. “And I sleep here on this bed.” He pats where he’s sat.

You grin as you sip then quickly wipe your chin as some tea spills through your smile. “Where do you keep all your paintings?”

“In the studio. On that top bunk. Behind that door. At my grandma’s house.” he lists off on his fingers.

“Why behind the door? If I had your talent, I’d basically cover every bit of my wall in my art. Like the most egomaniacal artist in the world.” you fantasize, looking up at the ceiling.

Renjun chuckles. “I kinda like my space to be a bit cleaner, you know? Because I’m always around art. It kinda helps with my imagination, having a clean environment. It’s almost like a clean canvas.”

“Interesting.” you’ve said and it sounds like you genuinely mean it. “It’s still a bit sad. All the work you’ve created should have a home. It shouldn't be hidden away behind doors or on top bunks.”

“You can give some of them a home if you’d like. If you have space, I mean.” Renjun gives you a fond look. You haven’t replied but you’ve set your mug down and looked at him with a very tender look in your eyes. You stand up.

“I wanna see your bed.”

Renjun grins. “Be my guest.”

“Ooooh.” you make an excited squeal, almost like you're about to enter Dexter’s Laboratory. You plop yourself on it and bounce up and down, almost as if to check the pliability of it.

“So this is where the magic happens.” you giggle and then Renjun finds your gaze moving to a picture frame on his headboard. “Is that your grandma?”

“It is.” Renjun smiles as he watches you pick your feet up and make yourself comfortable.

“She looks exactly like you.” you say, looking back at him with an affectionate look.

“A lot of people say that. People in school used to think I’m adopted because I looked nothing like my parents.” Renjun scoots back to sit next to you.

“Are you close to your parents?” you ask gently, looking at him.

Renjun looks away.

The two of you hadn’t had that many deep conversations. And anytime you did, he had found a way around it so that nothing was shared, nothing was learnt.

But no one had ever asked him that… not in so many words. He finds himself shrugging and responding before he can stop himself. “Nah. They don’t even talk to me. They’ve never really cared.”

“How do you know that, Renjun?” you’re asking him in a very soft voice. The kind of voice that has Renjun sharing more than he wants.

“They pretty much abandoned me very young,” Renjun laughs ironically. “They would fight all the time, you know? Like, they really would go at each other one moment then make up the next moment. They kind of forgot they had a son.” Renjun finds himself saying while his eyes fixate on a loose thread on Jisung’s bedsheet. He realizes he’s warm and comfortable and that’s when he notices that you’ve put an arm around him.

“That must have been so hard, to go through that.” you’re speaking to him so softly and your head and your body is angled towards him, giving him all your attention while Renjun talks into the abyss.

“They were just like… kinda dysfunctional, you know? They fought like crazy and I had to hide away so I wouldn’t hear them. And then the next day, they’d be in each other’s arms like nothing happened. They would pretend like everything was all right. Like the trauma they gave me meant nothing.”

You’re not speaking anymore, only listening. Your hand around him has started to gently stroke his arm. Your other hand softly combs through his hair.

“It was such a vicious cycle and they wouldn’t stop. I think they were kinda addicted to it. They would’ve been happy living like that with each other if it weren’t for me.” He had never shared so much with anyone. But now that he had started, it was difficult to stop.

“Renjun…” you say empathetically and pull him into you. Renjun pauses for a moment, but decides to give in. What did it matter, anyway? He rests his head on your shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandma, I wouldn’t even be alive, you know? She saved me from all of that and took me in. She raised me. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she raised me.”

You are holding him to you and soothingly stroking his hair when you say “Then I think your grandma is the luckiest person in this world. Because she got to see you grow up to be such a good man.”

Renjun feels a lump in his throat grow and before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes. You turn your head and press a kiss into his temple and slowly rock him. It was odd, being here like this, because Renjun realizes that this was the first time you had kissed him. But more than anything else, it was the first time someone had held him like this.

The last time he remembered being held was probably when he was a child, and it had been his grandma. No one since had held him in their arms to listen to him, to comfort him, to love him without any conditions. No one had tried to take his pain away without wanting something in return. The thought puts more tears in his eyes and he finds himself leaning his weight into you.

He allows you to hold him and comfort him and coo at him. You’re speaking to him gently but Renjun isn’t hearing your words. He’s only concentrating on the soothing sound of your voice and how melodic it is. He liked hearing you talk. He’s concentrating on how you’re rocking him, and how the movement is slowly lulling him. He liked how warm and soft you were and how protective your arms were. He liked the smell of chamomile on your breath. Had you enjoyed chamomile? He thought you had. Maybe you would’ve enjoyed a different flavor more. Renjun decides he should make you an Earl Grey next time; it would probably be better suited to your caffeine tastes. Maybe you wouldn’t like Earl Grey as much either, but it would be nice to discover that bit about you. He’d make you try all the flavors till he learnt which one your favorite was.

“How come I never saw your cat?” He asks sleepily after you’ve been quiet for a while.

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“Your cat. Galbi. How come I didn’t see him when I came over?” Renjun can feel your smile against his temple.

“Oh. Yeri had dropped him over at the vet’s that day. Do you want to meet him?” you ask him.

“Yeah, it would be nice to meet him.” Renjun says and brings an arm up to cuddle closer into you.

“Okay. Next time you come over, you can meet him… shoulder gangster Renjun.” you’re only whispering at him now as you tease him.

“Mmm.” is the only reply Renjun can manage as he chuckles lazily. He didn’t even feel like killing Donghyuck for telling you about that because he feels so good like this, in your arms. Renjun hasn’t even noticed that you’ve laid him down till he realizes how horizontal he is.

It felt nice. Being held by someone, being protected by someone, being comforted by someone. Your hands haven’t stopped soothing him for a single moment ever since they started. Renjun hadn’t even noticed that you’d put the covers on him. Or that you were kissing the top of his head till he feels the warmth. It all felt so nice. He barely registers that your shirt is wet from his tears. All he feels are the relaxing patterns you’re drawing onto his skin. It’s the last thing he feels as he drifts off. And though you're gone in the morning, Renjun can swear this is the most sound sleep he's slept in many nights. He feels a thousand times lighter, like someone had lifted a heavy weight off of his chest and he was finally breathing fully.

He smiles as he grabs his phone and sees your name right on the top of his notification list. He reads your message:

‘Hey, shoulder gangster. Sorry I left without telling you but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to ask you something AND YOU CAN TOTALLY SAY NO. But my brother’s hosting a spring art festival of some sort at my parent’s house this weekend. A lot of his artist friends from his company will be there. Do you maybe wanna come with me?’

And there it was.

Yes, it was funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. And in his new habit, Renjun had forgotten the real reason he was with you in the first place.

Eyes on the fucking prize, Renjun thinks as his reality comes crashing back on him.

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blouisparadise · 3 years ago

Note

hi! just wondering if you know what fics from the abo fest are bl?

We’ve compiled a list below! As always, it can be difficult to check larger collections like this, so if anyone sees a fic here that shouldn’t be or finds one that we missed, please let us know! There are lots of amazing fics here.

Enjoy!

1) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

2) This Love’s A Luxury | Mature | 5623 words

Omega Louis is a hairdresser. Alpha Harry just wants his hands on him.

3) Take Me To The Stars | Explicit | 5840 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Staring at his darling daughter, in the middle of the pasta aisle, Louis found himself on the edge of a neurotic breakdown.

"It’s your birthday tomorrow! And your papa better not do anything to muck it up! Because your dada worked very hard to organise it! And all of your aunties and grannies and granddads and friends will be there!” Louis continued in a sweet sing-song voice that seemed to get increasingly frantic as he continued. “And if your papa is in rut, then what? What’ll we do, honey girl? Your dada will be too busy! And your papa will be too horn-”

“Louis,” Harry interrupted, touching Louis’ arm. “I’ll be okay. It’s probably not even my rut. I can appreciate you… all of you… even when I’m not in rut.”

Louis looked at him skeptically, imagining the shitshow that would be Harry in rut, surrounded by family and friends, at their child’s first birthday party. “I hope you’re right, H.”

4) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

5) I'm Asking You Please, Don't Talk Dirty to Me | Explicit | 9777 words

Prompt #68: Harry’s best friend Louis is a nice, well-mannered omega, at least when it comes to sex talk. He has always been closed off and quiet... until Harry hears how Louis talks during his heat. Now, it's all Harry can think about before his upcoming rut... (Original prompt wording edited for clarity)

6) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words

When Louis and Niall are partnered up to complete a project on Omega scents and how they effect the nesting behaviours of Alphas, little does Louis know that the course of his life is about to be forever altered.

7) Hint: I Want To Be Yours | Mature | 11157 words

The one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

8) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it is omega Louis/alpha Harry.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

9) If I'm On Fire, You'll Be Made Of Ashes Too | Explicit | 12518 words

Flawed and romanticised is the notion of perfection. Harry likes to think such a thing as perfection exists.

10) Love, Ever After | Explicit | 20782 words

The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

11) Promise Me You Won't Run Away | Explicit | 23128 words

The Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

12) Don't Play With Matches | Explicit | 25632 words

Niall sees love everywhere - much to the despair of his friends, old and new (who he tends to treat as his own life-sized game of sims). It leads to complications.

13) I'm Gonna Keep This Love, If You Let Me | Explicit | 26355 words

Louis makes Harry pretend to be his boyfriend one night out. The rest is history.

14) In Your Scent I Thrive | Explicit | 33366 word

Harry’s particular condition has made it impossible for him to enjoy people’s scent, until he meets Louis.

15) We Both Got Nothing to Hide | Explicit | 43811 words

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

16) Oubaitori | Explicit | 48822 words

Louis and Harry meet again after years apart and have to learn to live together by detangling their shared past and uncovering old secrets.

17) Maybe You'll Like the Way I Am | Not Rated | 55878 words

Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it is omega Louis/alpha Harry.

When Louis' alpha neighbor asks him to pretend to be his omega for a week, Louis immediately says no. He has too much he's dealing with on his own, and he swore to himself he'd never get that close to an alpha again. Unable to hold to that resolve once guilt sets in, Louis finds that maybe fumbling his way through a fake relationship for a week was exactly what he needed to finally be able to move on.

18) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 76795 words

Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.

19) I’m Missing Half Of Me When We’re Apart | Explicit | 83745 words

AU in which OT5 are all in their 30's and a list from 10 years ago dares Harry and Louis to lose their virginity to each other. What happens when two best friends who are not only completely unlike each other but also the complete opposite of their assigned secondary genders find themselves in the position of fulfilling that goal despite Louis hating alphas and everything they represent and Harry being irrevocably and unconditionally in love with his best friend? Will they find to each other or will a stupid piece of paper from their Uni days ruin their friendship?

- BLP 🍑

#asks #fic recs #abo fic fest

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absolutebl · 4 years ago

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This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 1

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 1 - living up to its name since it looks to be a series of redemption arcs. Launched with a college confession and a broken friendship, then a flash back to them as seniors in high school. Pairings include friends to lovers, nerd/jock, and maybe cafe boss/employee. There’s a lot going on, but it’s still... quiet and sweet. The script is pretty pat but it’s still WAY more watchable than Cupid Coach or Brothers and most of the acting is solid. Ep 1 tropes included: he’s in engineering, wound tending, fast & bicurious. This could turn into what I wanted My Gear & Your Gown to be. Fingers crossed.

Love Poison 2 Ep 1 & 2 turns out I did watch and report on season 1 (8 eps), season 2 seems equally unmemorable. Thai countryside setting, strong dialect, incomprehensible plot, camp side characters, and ghastly singing.

Y-Destiny Ep 1 (eng subs?) - opened with the sports romance enemies to lovers (they aren’t going in the teaser order). When the couple got over fighting, the flirting was v cute, but the flipping SPONGE BATH trope had to rear its ugly head. Still, this series is shaping up to be less coy and more frank than most BL, better than expected. It feels, I don’t know, gay-er or something? *** Sources were correct that each couple is getting (at least) 2 eps, and MDL has been updated to say this is a 15 episode series (not 7).

Cupid Coach 12 fin - The new Nite was great and should have been a main all along. It felt like we got a tiny nugget of what could have been in about 10 minutes worth of this last ep. It was way too slow with terrible editing and a criminally bad script, but at least it ended happy. Mostly, like Friend Forever, I’m just disappointed that these two actors were done dirty by the series. Bad Cupid Coach, no screen caps for you.

Lovely Writer Ep 6 - breaking news, there’s a het couple I like: toppy bi femme + soft boi = such a good pairing! I know, but this NEVER happens. Meanwhile, Sib’s secret is out, Gene is a bit of a drama queen, and the plot thickens. We half way through.

Brothers Ep 9 - Kaow had a serious moment of advice giving that was truly lovely. Lots of family dama made this a superior episode to... well... any of the others in this series. Which isn’t saying much.

1000 Stars Ep 10 fin - at the start this series didn’t grab me the way GMMTV’s last BL, Tonhon Chonlatee, did. But boy did it end 1000x better. Might have given us 2021′s best forehead kiss. I enjoyed the ultra romantic cliff-top reunion kiss, and I LOVED the stinger flirting scene. That was an absolute gift we had no right to expect. This drama is a poster child for finishing on a high note (always focus on that dessert course). Final thoughts? This was FAR more a classic romance than it was BL. There were some BL tropes used but not many and most of them originated in the romance genre not yaoi. A picture perfect ending bumped 1000 Stars much higher up my best-of list than expected. Not sure how often I’ll rewatch it as a whole, but this last episode? I’m probably rewatching it right now.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Dear Uranus (Taiwan GL) Ep 3 fin - I guess that’s it? Okaaaaay

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 3 (AKA Ep 5-6) - we got actual legit gay culture not just BL (always appreciated) from XingSi. I’m starting to find LiCheng’s “show them we fucking” hijinks hilarious rather than annoying (not sure why, maybe I just love a rubber chicken, or maybe it was the STUFFED CORN WITH THE TASSEL that did it).

-- H4 Moment of RANT --

Tropes included beach trip, there’s only one bed, cook for him, baby is a floppy drunk, carry baby to bed, and.... drunk non-con. Whoopdedoo. Here we go again. Did TharnType teach us NOTHING? (Apparently it taught us if the chemistry is good enough, I have no morals at all.) At least H4 seems to be taking us out of cheese into serious when it comes to assault. Or is it?

I take back what I said last week about XingSi & YongJie being codependency + salvation trope, that only works if YongJie is the uke. He’s NOT. So we got us an obsessive predatory villain with a possible redemption arc. That’s more common in crime dramas, mafia romance, and epic fantasy than BL. It’s real hard to redeem a sexual predator in a reality-grounded universe like contemporary romance (See Kla in LBC1&2).

Next week is gonna be a test of the whole damn franchise. Imma remind both me a you that this was ep 3 of 10 so we got a ways to go yet... but ooof, what have we wrought, BL? (I ended up doing a whole post about the stepbrother trope because of this sub plot.) Taiwan is killing me.

-- RANT ended --

Word of Honor (China) Ep 19-21 - over half way point so we got ALL the back story (in a classic 4 act story structure midway reveal). Now we know who WKX really is and his lineage. We also got some cute hugs and hand holds. Moving along at a nice clip despite being 36 eps total. Still gayest thing to come out of we-not-gay China since Advance Bravely.

Most Peaceful Place (Vietnam) Ep 2 - takes them a while to get eng subs together and ep 2 didn’t drop until late. So I’m putting this in a Thurs time slot going forward. Miscommunication already cleared up and a 2nd couple has been introduced. The pacing on these Vietnamese BLs is always a bit... off. But it’s still better than most of its ilk, enjoyable. I’m thinking it’s a 6 ep arc.

We Best Love 2 (Taiwan) Ep 5 - after the initial drama DRAMA of ep 2, the current external crisis at work is much quieter, giving this whole season a top heavy feel. Taken along side the first season, I think it’s fitting nicely into a 4 act structure, but that might be my bias. I hope I’m not wrong, we’ll find out next week. Shi De puttering about being domestic with Shu Yi on his back was the best execution of the piggyback trope EVER. Meanwhile, our little D/s side couple of codependency, salvation trope + mental illness is becoming weirdly appealing. I don’t know. H4 done mess with my head.

Stand Alones

Absolute BL AKA Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai vs Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko (Japan) Ep 1-4 mini series. Found subs under A Man Who Defies The World of BL. IT’S HILARIOUS. It’s Japan making fun of us, but also itself for having started this whole BL nonsense - from yaoi roots to present day. It’s parody goddamn gold. Utterly cheeky unto the very last line. We are not worthy.

Apparently the most powerful tropes of all time are: baby is a floppy drunk and the piggyback fo nobility. Oh and chocolate. {Full review here.}

Honestly, this show may have been made with only @heretherebedork and I in mind. I don’t know if you’d even understand half of it if you don’t have a history with the manga source genre and an obsessive interest in underlying narrative devices. I haven’t seen much chatter in the blog’o’sphere on this one because, in the end, it’s not a romance at all, it’s social commentary.

The ending line was a masterclass in lampooning a genre. I’m going to rewatch the whole thing just to catch all the digs I missed first time around. It is a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Thank you Japan. I forgive you all your hair-styling sins of the last decade.

Breaking News

Spring Line Up:

Scholar Ryu’s Wedding Ceremony AKA Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korean historical BL) April 15th

Close Friend the series (Thai trailer) April 22.

2gether the movie (Thai trailer) April 22 to Thai theaters.

Nitiman (Thai) May 7 on One31.

I Told Sunset About You 2 (Thai) May 27 on LineTV

Ossan’s Love (Hong Kong) June to Viu

Gossip

Bad Buddies released its first promo op via Arm Share, which means GMMTV is at least *thinking* about filming it.

Fun behind the scenes gossip sesh with eng subs for Tell the World I Love You (that Perth Bas movie we are maybe getting someday but will likely be sad).

New Thai BL Bite Me (adapted from novel Grab a Bite) dropped a teaser. It stars Mark Siwat (Kla in LBC) as uke character Ake, a delivery boy with special foodie powers, and chef Eua (seme played by Zung Kidakorn) who discovers him. It’s from the same author as Manner of Death so we might even get some actual plot. Since it’s an established BL actor who I happen LOVE, a known author, and a plot about FOOD, I could not me more excited for this one.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed a day later than actual air date for accessibility reasons. Some are dropping multiples at a time but just started so I’m not sure on numbering.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

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kkruml · 4 years ago

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STAY CH 16

I am absolutely gobsmacked by all the love this wee story has gotten over time. I did not intend for it to take as long as it did to find the ending to this story, but alas, life and circumstances (and a f*cking pandemic) got in the way. BUT- it’s here. The final chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. This story started off as a prompt about a trope that I had always enjoyed but never considered writing. I am glad I took the leap and am forever grateful for the support and beta magic that are @abreathofsnowandwaffles and @missclairebelle. Without you both I would never have attempted this. I love you both.

To everyone who has read, shared, and enjoyed (even a little!) this story, thank you.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

AO3

Mood music

Previously

Whole.

The word danced around the corners of her mind. Her eyes shifted from him to the golden hues splashed across the sky. Was she whole? Twisting her wrist for inspection, she felt no sharp pain, just a dull ache from use.

No longer broken.

Now came the recovery. As a doctor she had seen the scans, she knew the rehabilitation trajectory. Yet here, with him, the statistics and analytical journal findings faded from mental view. Here, in this moment, she was simply Claire. With Jamie. Her Jamie. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

“I think I know exactly what you mean,” drawing her gaze back to him, she exhaled contentedly. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his, taking it gently. “Thank you, Jamie.”

“Och, ‘tis nothing lass.” Dirt-stained fingertips pressed into her skin. His warmth encompassed her.

“Jamie…” she started, her eyes lowering to see their fingers intertwined. Blinking hard and tilting her face to meet his, she finished, “I don’t just mean for today.”

An echo of a smile tugged at his lips and he exhaled.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” His voice hummed, soft and tender. “There’s the two of us now.”

His words were so simple. But there was something in the blue of his eyes that spoke to the depth of his meaning. Her breath caught as she felt the same weight of prophecy to his words.

CLAIRE

Blue.

Whisky.

Stay.

The words whispered to her in a soft rhythm, beckoning her from sleep. One eye begrudgingly parted and she was blessed with the sight of Jamie’s face. His nose, straight and angled, thick stubble dappled his cheeks, and the line of his lips curled into a small smile while he slept.

She had missed that quiet smile.

It had been so long. Since the accident.

She yearned for it.

Ached for it.

Shifting slightly onto her side she felt his arm tighten around her waist, and a flutter of a giggle tickled her chest.

He had been gentle with her, almost too gentle. At first he kept a respectable space as to avoid injuring or jostling her arm, or pressing into her ribs as they healed. But then as days passed, they became hesitant with each other as a small crack formed and slowly spread to fill the space between, a sliver at a time.

It had been weeks. But tonight, he had reached out to her in sleep.

Perhaps it was the whisky from the hours earlier, or the heady tension between them as they traded glasses and slipped farther and farther into their own bubble, consumed by each other’s mere presence that she’d felt a shift between them. His warmth encompassed her and flushed her cheeks before dipping into her chest. She burned for his touch. Her fingers trembled as they slowly rose towards his face, before stopping just short of his jawline. She faltered for a moment, losing her nerve.

What if he woke up?

The thought lit the fire that had sunk just below her belly button and her lip quivered. The boldness she felt that night, all those months ago- that night he bared his soul to her, the night he told her about the accident- that strength had slowly faded from her with each passing day since her injury.

Gently placing her hand back onto her side, her eyes traced the solid line of muscle from his shoulder down to his elbow. Perfect peaks and valleys were highlighted by the faint moonlight. Reveling in the knowledge that he was hers, she let out a satisfied sigh.

A glow from the bedside table caught her attention and she rolled her eyes. She knew who it was, and what the message said, and she silently cursed herself for the spontaneous text earlier. A moment of alcohol-induced bravery had prompted a bold proclamation. That tonight, she would reclaim that lost and most intimate connection with Jamie… in a somewhat less than mature manner of speaking.

Lifting the phone enough to see the screen, she caught the text that flashed.

Have ye crawled out from under the Viking for air yet?

Geillis.

To be honest, there were a few moments she thought that it might happen. Jamie’s gaze grew more menacing and his fingers lingered as they traced the lines of her hem at the small of her back, all the while whispering old stories of Lallybroch in her ear so close that she could taste the amber liquid on his breath. But then… after stumbling past the doorway into their bedroom, with fits of laughter breaking between them, they settled into a coy yet contented ball of sheets and blankets on the bed.

She had welcomed the weight of his body against hers as their laughter softly echoed off the bedroom walls. But with a swift tug of the comforter beneath them, he had rolled clumsily onto her left side and the spell between them was broken. Stammering his way through an impassioned apology, he shifted his body, overcompensating for the contact and leaving ample space between them. The buzzing electricity between them simmered and the courage she’d come so close to wielding receded. After a few more gentle smiles and muttered apologies from Jamie, they both had drifted into blissful sleep. But that ache persisted, and it rose from a dull ache to a heady throb.

With a half-hearted sigh, she tapped the screen to respond.

Will catch up tomorrow. Too tired and too much whisky tonight ;)

Three bubbles quickly appeared on her screen as Geillis’s words flashed quickly.

Aye. Too much ‘Whisky.’ As ye say. XO

That was not what she meant, but she didn’t correct Geilis. They would see each other tomorrow, and she would set the record straight then. Maybe.

Struggling to settle her mind back into the quiet darkness of the room, she let her eyelids close and the words beckoned again.

Stay. Please stay.

Her fingers twitched. Her head swirled with the words, and then a melody slowly seeped in and clouded her thoughts. An almost torturous rhythm played over and over in her head, keeping sleep at bay and forcing out the memories of the night before.

Sighing again, this time in resignation, she slowly slid off the bed. Gently moving his arm to rest on the space she had just vacated, she paused. Gazing at his perfect form in the tangle of sheets in their bed for a moment longer, she then turned on her heel and padded out of the room.

Where is that bloody guitar?

JAMIE

Claire.

Mmm. Feeling the warmth against his palm, he contracted his muscles and pulled a tangle of empty bed sheets against his chest.

Where is she?

Thoughts came quickly, erratic and half-formed as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

His last vision of her was in bed next to him, a beautiful mosaic of dark curls and light skin, splintered in his mind but beautiful nonetheless.

It was still late… no- early? The soft morning light had not yet fully crept through the curtains, but it kissed the soft linen and a glow inched across the bedroom floor.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he could still, but barely, see her face as they stumbled into his, no their flat just hours before- lips parted in a beaming grin, eyes warm and glowing, curls spilling out of a bird’s nest atop her head.

Having stopped at a local pub in a desperate attempt to prolong their evening, the memory of her leaning in closely as each drop of amber fluid eased the tension in her shoulders. The heat on her breath as she whispered new Gaelic words she had been studying but never said aloud settled in his bones and burned just under the surface. The timidity between them had receded with every look, every brush of skin against each other. Like a balm on a healing wound, her every look and movement was a salve on his soul.

Shaking his head, the memory slowly faded, and he blinked ruefully as it subsided. He heard a faint sound, a slight… plucking of strings? Moving quickly through the flat he eyed his guitar stand in the corner by the couch- empty.

His lip twitched and he fought the sensation. Doesna mean anything.. Or does it?

Grabbing the tumbled mass of tartan on the cushion, he slinked his way up the fire escape to the rooftop, following the sounds of his guitar as the notes tweaked and came into tune.

CLAIRE

There’s my C. Finally.

He said it would come with time, but neglected to mention just how tedious tuning a guitar could be. It always seemed to sing when he played, a natural extension of himself.

Effortless.

He was right.

A small echo of a laugh bubbled in her chest. He was always so sure when he spoke. Whether he was storytelling or gesticulating on the latest rugby match. There was a conviction in his words, and in this instance, she knew he was right. What the strings and pick are to him, a scalpel and needle are to her.

She plucked the string again.

Bloody Scot was right.

And she was grateful for it.

Letting out a quick breath into the crisp night air, her eyelids fluttered shut as the words undulated in her mind, like a tide rolling in. Growing closer, then receding before pushing closer and closer, she surrendered to the pulsating rhythm.

With a quick roll of the wrist, and sigh of relief as it cooperated without sign of pain, she set her fingers against the strings. The words thrummed in her ears, echoing as the memory struggles to come into focus.

“Nothing is lost… please stay.”

JAMIE

His breath caught as his eyes found her, freezing him. An unruly mess of dark curls cascaded around her, the wind toying with a strand as it twisted and fluttered in the air, the curves of her shoulders draped in his favorite rugby shirt.

He stood breathlessly, watching as her hand absentmindedly grasped the errant lock and tucked it behind one ear. The movement was subtle, but made his heart pound. Her wrist, newly healed and etched with fresh scars, moved with an ease. There was a fluidity, an almost absent-mindedness he hadn’t seen in weeks.

Her chin was set in determination, her lower lip tucked between her teeth and head cocked as if the guitar was whispering its secrets to her. The curve of her back matched the line of his guitar, two of his favorite things molded into one.

A Dhia.

She was beautiful.

With a heavy exhale to take in the scene, his body rested against the metal railing. A high pitched creak filled the air and he watched as her face jerked toward him in panic. The current of gold in her eyes settled slightly as they fixed on him before igniting into a deep ember.

CLAIRE

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his eyes were electric, and the slope of his lips, parted as raspy breath escaped, filled her vision. The heat of his stare traveled down her throat with a hard swallow, descending into the depths just below her navel. Blinking hard to quell the feeling, she held her gaze, letting his beauty overtake her nerves.

“Are ye alright, mo nighean donn?” his voice cut through the darkness. It shook just slightly as the Gaelic punctuated his question, two fingers tapping against his thigh.

My brown haired lass.

She remembered the first time he’d called her that. He promised one day he’d tell her what it meant. Instead, she’d found them in an old, nondescript and dusty book on his shelf... or perhaps the words found her. She reveled in knowing what it meant as he’d whisper it in darkness, tender and soft.

“Y-yes, quite,” she started as pulled herself back to the present. Letting a deep sigh encompass her, she met his eye. “Did I wake you?”

“Ach no, I just dinna...” he started as twitching fingers ran through his hair. “ I just… dinna sleep well wi’out ye with me.”

“Oh.” she said quietly, letting a small smile play at her lips as heat rose in her chest. “I wanted to show you something.”

One eyebrow quirked and with it came a breathtaking grin framed by fiery red hair and electric blue eyes. “I seem to recall ye said once that they let anyone play.”

JAMIE

“Och! You don’t need to ruin the moment,” she said with exasperation.

“Wai- what?” His ears perked at the noise. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to find the words. “Was that...Did ye just-”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she countered, “Wot?”

“Tis nothing,” he started, recovering from his stumble. “That was just a decidedly Scottish sound there…”

“I most certainly did not,” her voice stuttered on the last word, her eyebrows creasing as he watched her question her own words.

Thank the laird for small miracles and glass faces.

“Are ye sure yer a Sassenach aft-after all?” A laugh rumbled from his chest as he moved toward her, “Ye do a fine version of a salty auld Highlander indeed.”

“Well,” her lips parted in a conciliatory smile and her eyes glowed. “I seem to have learned from the best.”

A breeze filled the space between them and he caught her slight frame shiver.

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” he asked, drawing out the last word for emphasis. She was an outlander, a most rare and precious gift.

“I’m alright,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, but there was no conviction behind her voice.

“Dinna be stubborn lass, I can hear yer teeth rattle from here.” He countered with an attempt at a wink. In truth, it was an excuse, any excuse to move closer to her.

Her face softened and she sighed, nodding as she bit down on her lower lip. His eyes darted to her mouth, tracing every curve and line. His tongue reflexively darted out and licked his lips, aching to taste her breath against his skin. Balling his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch her face, his fingers dug into crumpled up fabric- the tartan soft and warm in his hand.

The tactile sensation brought him from his thoughts, and he held it out to her as he closed the space between them. His lips curled as he cocked his head, “After all… Ye canna bring dishonor on the Fraser colors, Sassenach.”

“Oh mon dieu, first the Fréselière and now your clan’s colors and creed?” Her eyes were alight with humor as she turned to fully face him, his guitar shifting in her lap. She inhaled sharply, her eyes intent and glowing, “My hands seem to be full at the moment... might you help?”

He stood still, surprised for a moment but swallowed hard and gathered up the material in both hands. Timidly, he wrapped his arms around her, her hair tickling his nose as he leaned in close.

Pressing against him softly, her voice was low and heavy as she said, “Thank you.”

Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, he set himself on the seat next to her- close but not quite touching. “Ach, so ye had something to play then, aye?”

“Well it’s just the start of something, I think,” she mumbled.

The familiar chords echoed between them as she hummed the melody. Had he played that for her before? He didn't think he had?

CLAIRE

She pulled her eyes from her fingers as they pressed into the cords to find his gaze heavy on her. She hummed for a few beats and then with eyes closed she exhaled with contentment.

“Clear blue….” she breathed, waiting for the next chord progression to continue with a disjointed “world of whiskey.” The strings vibrated against her fingertips before she whispered the lines that had repeated over and over in her mind, “Nothing is lost… Please stay.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. His hands were clasped together tightly, fingernails dug slightly into ruddy, sunkissed skin.

“I wasn’t sure.. I mean, it’s-” she was suddenly shy, embarrassed. It was absurd to try to explain, the words just… were to her.

His face was frozen and his lower lip quivered. With a low, shaky voice he asked, “Where did ye find those words?”

“They just…” she started. Without thinking she continued, the words tumbling out of her, “They just came to me. I think it was a dream. I was drowning, and then I saw... light. Wings. And then a voice asking me to stay.”

“Mo Chridhe,” his voice was almost a whisper, each word quiet but strong. “That was me.”

She struggled to understand the pain in his voice. “You?”

Fragmented time flashed through her mind. Her father, the heron’s wings. The tattoo. The flutter of wings in her ears as she lay in that bed. Through it all, the words, those words- they cut through the noise.

It was him.

JAMIE

He watched her, waiting. The realization flashed across her face.

Her voice was almost a whisper, but her eyes were a smoldering amber. Her voice was sure, true. “It was you.”

She remembered.

The weeks lost to the accident and the uncertainty of what was to come when she couldn’t remember- the truths they had shared… it was still there. A weight lifted from his chest and he exhaled for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Whatever it was between them, that awful night hadn’t stolen it from them. As she had lain, still and broken, in that hospital bed amidst a rhythmic beeping of machines and hushed voices in the hallway, he had sung to her.

And she had heard him.

“It was me,” he said simply, wanting to repeat those words over and over again. Inching close, eyes trained on her, he let the echo of a smile pull at his lip. “I had trouble finishing the line.”

The whisky in her eyes burned as her chest heaved with effort. The gravity of the moment threatened to crumble her facade, and she struggled to keep her tone light, “Yes, you did.”

The confirmation sent a shock wave through him. “So, Sassenach…” he let his voice fade as he contemplated. His voice hung between them, both unsure of how to speak.

CLAIRE

His voice was low, his irises almost black. “How does it end then?”

The silence throbbed between them like a heartbeat. The weight of his question lingered. Seemingly innocent on the surface, the deeper meaning reverberating between them.

With a small smile, her fingers touched the strings. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders.

“Your face is my heart and the love of you…” she paused, wanting the words to ring true. Her hand twitched and curled to find the strings without difficulty as she finished, “My soul.”

The chord hung between them, the vibration echoing against her skin. Without looking away, she gently set the guitar down as the note dissipated and scattered into the air. The wind whipped between them, the familiar scent of linen, sandalwood and him struck her as she watched him, waiting.

“I thought I’d lost ye,” his voice was gravely as it tumbled out of him, carrying the weight of the last several weeks. His eyes were focused on a point in the distance. When he pulled his gaze to her, she saw a pool of tears threatening to brim over. Speaking the truths he’d hidden even from himself, his voice broke as he said, “First wi’ the accident and then ye lost sae many memories of… us. I just couldna bear it- losing ye, losing us.”

“Jamie…” her chest constricted as she watched his face contort and relive that night.

JAMIE

“I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out ye. I was born-” He felt the desperation in his voice, but he couldn’t stop it. She had to know. Had to understand. She needed to feel the love that nearly burst out of his chest, and the agony he’d kept at bay these last long few weeks. He pushed his fingers through his curls as the words spilled out in fragments, “I was- I c-cannae explain it I just… just…. Christ!”

All the words he needed to say came crashing down in his mind and he couldn’t form a single thought to sort them out. He stood helplessly, two digits thrumming against his leg.

Her tone was low as she peeked through furrowed brows and dark lashes, “... I was born for you?”

“Aye,” His eyes darted to her face, the air ripped from his lungs. “How did ye know?”

“Jamie…” her voice was small but warm. “I’ve whispered those same words.. I’ve known that every day since I met you.”

“Claire,” his voice coiled around her name, reveling in the sound. His fingers twitched again as he raised his hand to her face, cupping the smooth porcelain of her cheek.

CLAIRE

Feeling the dam break, she leaned into his touch. “Bha mi gad ionndrainn.”

His hand sunk into her hair, pulling her to him. Grasping his forearms, she pressed her forehead to his. “I’ve missed you, too.”

His breath was heated against her cheek, a faint scent of whisky lingered between them. Her fingers slowly lifted to trace the line of his jaw, the stubble coarse against her skin. They settled just below his jawline, feeling his pulse quicken against her fingertips. Tentatively, she lifted his face to meet hers, and it was breathtaking. Dark flecks interrupted the turbulent blue in his eyes, and they trained on hers with a weight that ignited a fire in her chest.

“I would like-” he started, his voice raspy and raw. His skin was almost vibrating with need. “-Very much to kiss you. May I?”

An ache pulled deep in her belly as she struggled to focus on the words- the anticipation filling her senses. Struggling to focus, she blinked hard and smiled, “You may.”

His fingers intertwined in her hair as he leaned in, soft yet firm. With a final sigh, she closed her eyes and tilted her chin to meet his. His lips were warm and full, quickly molding to hers. With two more movements her tongue was tracing his lip and as she felt them part, she pushed against him with arms snaking around his neck.

Tongues pulsed and kneaded against each other as her hands found his hair as his arms circled around her waist. His fingers urgently sought her skin, pressing into the flesh at the small of her back as she arched into him. The aching need of the past weeks melted away with every movement and every ragged breath between them.

JAMIE

Every thought scattered. There was nothing but her. She filled every sense. The lavender of her shampoo, the velvety touch of her skin against his fingertips as he pulled her closer, the sound of her exhale as she reignited their kiss. He needed her now.

For all the time and distance and tentative silence that had grown between them, speaking was now unnecessary.

He needed to show her the way he loved her. Struggling for composure, one hand snaked up into her hair and he pulled back his lips and held her in place.

Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed and beautiful. Her eyes were a fiery gold and glistened with a thin film of tears.

Sorcha.

Sassenach.

Claire.

She was his, he was hers. Shattered apart, a beautiful mosaic of both pain and triumph together. They fought for this. They earned this.

Her breath was shaky but her voice was calm, “Will you have me?”

The gold specks in her eyes burned like embers as she held his gaze. His skin pulsed with electricity as her fingers lifted the tartan to cover his shoulders. Leaning forward and gently lowering her to the ground, he felt the soft warmth of her body beneath her and he knew he was home. She was home to him.

“Yes,” he whispered as the heat in his chest reverberated out into his fingertips.

He would have had her, any part of her, in any way he could- even the quiet, timid moments of the past few weeks where he had scarcely dared to touch her. But here, now, he saw that each crack and fracture she had endured had only healed stronger. Made more beautiful by the very lines of black etched into her skin, the flap of a heron’s wing flashed before his eyes before fading into the vision of her face.

He pressed against her as he lowered his face to hers. “Yes, I’ll have you.”

Now and forever.

#STAY fic #outlander #outlander fic #fan fic #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #holy shit i did it

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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

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A Convenient Arrangement Part 9

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating: T Length: 6514 Words A/N: It’s been a while, I probably still won’t be updating regularly because I’m busy, but here’s something for now. P.S. asks & comments are very much appreciated, nice comments make me feel like writing every time I get them, but please don’t ask when I’m going to update. I don’t have answers for you.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Kristoff felt uncomfortable to say the least. He was standing still while a stranger and his party of assistants measured him, held fabrics up toward him, and made comments on his physique both complimentary and, well, he couldn’t really say that the rest were meant to be kind. He wasn’t used to people who said things but didn’t say them straight, and while he was sure that “it’s like dressing a bull” wasn’t meant to be directly insulting, it also wasn’t quite a compliment either. He’d never been particularly ashamed of the way he looked, but he was being made certain from the commentary that he wasn’t built for whatever the “fashionable” silhouette was.

He wanted to walk away, to say that he’d wear his own clothes and to tell them exactly where they could shove their measuring tapes. He hadn’t exactly expected a “professional tailoring” to be a fun experience by any stretch of the imagination, but he also wasn’t prepared to be someone’s dressing doll. They hadn’t asked him his opinion on anything, and he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing, or whether it meant they were going to dress him like some kind of dandy who’d never spent a day of his life working.

“The yellow silk?”

He closed his eyes, just so he didn’t have to see whatever they were up to. Whatever it was involved tassels.

He could only distract himself by thinking of something else, by going inside himself and putting his mind to use imagining himself somewhere, anywhere else. He wondered how often he’d need to do such a thing, now that he was prince consort to the crown princess of Arendelle and soon to be some sort of aristocrat given lands and titles to justify his marriage. He couldn’t help but wish that he could just go back to the mountain and be away from all the new responsibilities his marriage to Anna had foisted upon him.

He had no objections to his duties to her, but to the court and the country, was another point entirely. He liked to think of himself as a good citizen of Arendelle. He paid his taxes, he worked hard, he tried his best to help his fellow man where and when he could, but he wasn’t built for pomp and circumstance. He wasn’t even built for suit fittings.

He let his thoughts drift away from the room, pushing all worries of brocade and buttons out of his mind, and landing himself back into memories of the early morning and being in bed with Anna. It was the easiest to imagine, the quickest way to relax.

He remembered waking up at first light with the gentle pressure of her body against his, the sheets tangled around them from their turning and shifting in the night. She’d fallen asleep on his chest, and when he woke, he’d been holding her there. Her hair had been partially in his face, fanned out across his chest and over his arm. While she had still been asleep, he’d carefully brushed it away from his face. While smoothing it under his hand, his heart raced over the intimacy of the action and the fear that she might wake up and tell him to stop.

He didn’t think that she would have asked him to, not when she so often was the one touching him first, reaching out for his hand, but after their conversation the night before he was worried. She didn’t trust him completely despite the strides they’d made, and despite the fact that she’d apparently vouched for him with her sister. He couldn’t blame her really, especially not after hearing all the ways in which her trust had been broken in the past.

Give her time. Give her love.

He could imagine his mother giving him the advice. He was far from a love expert himself and his family was a bit overzealous in their love and support, but he thought that maybe taking their advice and running it through his filter first might produce a kind of logic. Imagining what his mother might say about how he should treat his wife was probably a good place to start.

He’d give Anna all the time she needed. This was new for them both, but he was already believing that she might be his other half, that fate brought them together as mad as it sounded. So he knew that she was worth the wait. He already saw the little ways he was falling in love with her.

After he’d moved her hair, he’d enjoyed resting with her in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed with him. He’d felt her rouse, but didn’t say a word. He’d known that once they left bed, he was unlikely to see her for the rest of the day. Kai had him scheduled for several meetings and lessons and tours, and Anna, regardless of the promise made to them of no joint duties for a week, certainly had responsibilities of her own to attend to. He still didn’t know what they were, but he knew she must have some. Someday he would too.

He missed her already. He missed the rightness he felt while holding her close. He missed the way that she made him feel almost comfortable in the palace walls even while he was under the scrutiny of those who didn’t think he belonged.

He didn’t belong, of course. Being her husband gave him a reason to live in the castle, it gave him station, but it didn’t make him belong. Standing where he was now, walking through the hallways to get to the room without her by his side, constantly needing to check the little map she’d drawn for him, had made that abundantly clear. He wished he had it in him to announce to the room, to everyone who looked at him sideways, that he hadn’t asked for this, and that they could trade places with him if they preferred, but he couldn’t say it.

He couldn’t even offer a single breath to the idea that it would be anyone else at Anna’s side.

He may not be royal by anything but marriage but holding her made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He’d held onto her as long as he could in bed, not telling her that he was awake even though he knew that she was. He remembered her snort-laugh when he’d told her that he’d pretended to be asleep this time. He hadn’t said that he’d do it again to just hold her a little longer.

He remembered the way she’d nuzzled her face into his chest and murmured about breakfast without making any moves to leave him for a long while. They may have never moved, but of course a knock had eventually come, summoning them both from bed. They’d broken their fast together in relative quiet, the silence only broken by the sounds of silverware clinking, and he’d felt like he’d wanted to say something, catching her staring at him every now and then, but he didn’t have the words to say what he was feeling. He still wasn’t sure of what it was he had been feeling.

Domesticity? Comfort? Love?

None of the words fit. Not yet at least, though he’d like for them to be the right words someday.

Another knock had come and interrupted the quiet meal, and with the quick scurrying and whispering of an anxious looking maid, Anna had excused herself from the table. She’d given him a look that he registered as a sort of longing, he only knew it as such because she gave the same look to her bacon, and then she was gone.

A knock came again, this time in the present, pulling him from his recent memories abruptly.

“My Lord?”

It was Kai, and in a short a time as Kristoff had known the man, he had never been so grateful for his appearance as he was now. Which was saying something given he and Anna were thus far the only people who didn’t make him feel like a complete outsider.

He met the man’s eye and, reminded by his presence that he needed to at least feign manners, only gave him a somewhat subtle look of “save me”.

Blessedly Kai obliged.

“His lordship is needed elsewhere. Please collect your things so that we might have the room to discuss his next appointment for the day.”

The older man turned toward the tailor and his staff and with a look that clearly said “now” sent them all scrambling to pick up fabrics and tapes and bits of paper. When they dispersed, the heavy oak door closing behind them with a thud, Kristoff let his shoulders slump. The sigh that he let out was unintended, but hardly unwarranted.

He took a deep breath that was his first in what felt like hours.

“A bit much, weren’t they sir?”

Kristoff examined the old man, gazing at the scowl of distaste on his face, directed at the door. He knew that his status as his valet was a temporary one, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was exactly the sort of person he’d like in his corner in the long term.

“That’s an understatement.”

Kai gave a bit of a wry smile before recomposing himself and appearing more regretful than amused.

“His father was the royal tailor to the King, a very noble and understated older gentleman who listened more than he spoke. He made the most excellent suits.”

He looked down at his own jacket for a moment, adjusting the sleeve as if he were recalling a garment from an earlier time and in doing so, found his current attire not quite up to snuff. Kristoff had felt similarly in his wedding clothes, recalling the way he could only compare them to his more comfortable daily wear.

“The Queen and Princess have a dressmaker in their employ who is similarly talented and reserved,” Kai continued, bringing his attention back to Kristoff and meeting his eye with another apologetic gaze, “Unfortunately, on such short notice we relied on the assumption that the young tailor would be like his father in manner, which is clearly not the case. I apologize. Perhaps we can find someone else, but given the short notice…”

He knew that Kai was implying that they were out of options unless he had a better one. It felt strangely like a test in ways Kristoff couldn’t quite put his finger on, almost as if Kai were trying to determine something about him from the uncomfortable situation.

Kristoff didn’t take more than a moment of thought before interrupting, “There’s a tailor in the market I usually buy from, he does good work. He has my measurements already. His wife is pregnant, he could use the money.”

Kristoff didn’t expect Kai to grin. He was already mentally admonishing himself for interrupting, but the balding old gentleman simply nodded.

Whatever the test had been, he’d passed.

Maybe royals are meant to be contrary. I’ve always been good at that.

“Nilsson. I don’t know his first name. He’s got a market stall but does almost all the work out of his house by the docks. He’s got a slate out front, pretty easy to find if you’re looking for it.”

Kai pulled a paper and pencil from somewhere on his person and against his palm, quickly jotted the notes. Kristoff wondered if that level of efficiently was born or made. He’d always been proud of his own ever evolving competence in his work, but he never thought that he’d be ready for anything in the way Kai seemed to be.

“I’ll see that he is made aware of your lordship’s request and that he understands the quality required. Are there any specific requests you have for fabric or color?”

Kristoff looked from the man to the door and back again.

“No yellow silk.”

***

Anna wasn’t wholly certain as to why she was feeling so nervous. She’d sent Kai after Kristoff only a few minutes before, evidently interrupting his whole schedule though he hadn’t said anything about it. Anna just knew the man well enough that when she saw him pull a pencil and a folded paper from his pocket that he was rearranging a schedule. She remembered him crossing off sections of the page like he had for her father before.

No matter how much everything changes, some things stay the same.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was enjoying assisting Kristoff. Soon enough he’d be Elsa’s personal counsel again, but Anna liked to think that he was enjoying the sort of daily trials and tribulations that were coming with helping her husband.

She’d been too high strung after her meeting with Elsa to be much use in focusing on anything let alone tracking someone down, but now it was at least a little bit relaxing to move her thoughts people instead of the stress of upcoming responsibilities.

When Elsa had sent a maid to fetch her in the middle of breakfast she had, of course, been up for hours and as such had already eaten. Anna suspected that her sister never actually slept and that it was the answer for why she was always up and ready for the day at the crack of dawn.

She hadn’t been more than half awake when she was taken from her bacon and from Kristoff’s quiet company. She’d been promised a week by her sister, one week of no duties, but that wasn’t exactly true. It had been more like one week with no scheduled duties, just meetings when the occasion arose, as it had in the middle of breakfast.

“Anna,” her sister had said, looking a bit tired which reminded Anna that her sister was indeed human after all, “I’m planning a party.”

That had been all that was required to shock Anna into full consciousness.

She may as well be running off to join the circus for how like her that is.

“You didn’t get an engagement party and we want the citizens to be able to celebrate the wedding, so the council requested that I announce a festival in your honors.”

That had made more sense, but now, standing alone in the library, trying to distract herself by staring at the shelves upon shelves of books before her, she wondered why exactly a party was needed at all. She appreciated her sister’s interest in her input about the colors and the food and the events, and she knew that it was meant to be an apology of sorts for the fact that she’d had no control over her wedding, but Anna also wasn’t ready for another big event.

She’d only promised Kristoff a week without duties, and they were now getting a full month. Somehow it didn’t seem to be a balm in her mind. She hated the idea that they would soon need to be a public spectacle, that they would be watched and commented on. She hated the thought of watching Kristoff shrink away like he had in the kitchens, that he might think again that he didn’t belong when all she wanted was for him to feel right when he was at her side.

She could hear the talk of the town in her ear, not truly there, but just as real in her head as if there was some chatty merchant’s daughter at her back.

They had to steal him from the mountains to marry her, who wants used goods?

To her right she could hear her giggling friend.

So sad, isn’t it? Poor man.

To her left, not in her imagination, but in reality, was a cold and empty hearth with a settee between her and it. Her hands shook at her sides as she tried to focus on anything but the creeping sensation of frost in her chest that she knew was only in her head.

Why did I choose the library? Of all places, why did I decide to tell him about the festival in the library.

She clenched her fists, closed her eyes and breathed.

The girls slipped away, the empty fireplace remained out of sight, but as she focused on her inhalation the icy sensation left. She smelled parchment and dust, felt the warmth of light streaming in from the nearby window, and let herself remember years of pulling books from the shelves written in various languages and staring at pictures before she could read them herself. The memories of her youngest days came clearer now that she was free to recall them.

I loved it here once.

She felt him enter her space.

Despite the bulk of him she hadn’t heard him approach, but she could feel the tension in her body release when he surreptitiously slid into the space at her left side, putting more space between her and the fireplace, bumping his hand into hers casually.

She experimentally opened her palm, slowly uncurling her fingers, and felt the last of the unease roll out of her muscles when he slipped his hand over hers, palm to palm. He wasn’t holding her hand, his fingers barely brushing hers, but she found it comforting.

She could hardly call herself knowledgeable about affection, but she was learning that this was Kristoff’s way of showing it. They hadn’t said anything about love. It didn’t make sense to yet, they were intimate strangers, they were a paradox, but where he couldn’t say love he showed it.

She wondered when she’d be able to show him in return. It had been so easy to pretend the night before. She wanted to be able to open up to him more, but every time she wanted to the what ifs got in the way.

You need to stop doubting yourself.

But a lack of self-doubt, her reckless willingness to believe in the best of people and that she deserved a happy ending had almost ruined everything once. She was afraid it risk it again.

“Want me to come back in a bit?”

His voice was low, soft. He could already read her so well, but he was still working out how to react to her feelings. She wondered how he could be so understanding of her needs after spending so many years alone. She had a hard enough time understanding how she felt lately let alone comprehending how others did. Even as empathetic as she was, she felt like she was always missing the cues that he was seemingly catching without a second glance.

She slipped her fingers between his, moving slowly and focusing on the secure feeling it gave her to have his hand locked against hers by the connection.

“No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

She opened her eyes and saw the concern in his gaze when she met his eye. It made her feel simultaneously guilty and vindicated, like his understanding that there was something wrong justified her feelings. She did feel bad for making him worry about her though. She didn’t want him to go anywhere just because she was battling with herself.

After a few moments of quiet, he spoke, “Kai filled me in on the way over. A festival?”

She sighed and nodded, glad that she wasn’t the first to tell him about it. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to express the positives about such a thing when she was already so focused on the negatives.

He didn’t look particularly upset about the event, which surprised her. She recalled how he’d been in front of the crowd at their wedding, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to put him in that situation again, but he didn’t seem to share the same opinion.

“Yes. There was a council decision that we should do something for the people at large because most of them couldn’t attend the wedding. They’re curious about us.”

Kristoff nodded. He seemed relaxed and at least accepting if not a bit interested about the matter.

“It makes sense. It’s been a long time since there’s been a real festival. Most times someone will put on something for the holidays, but the big festivals haven’t gone on in years. I can only just barely remember what they were like when I was a kid.”

That’s because they died with my parents.

It felt strange to think of it, that there hadn’t been festivals in years. Even before her parents had passed away, the events had been a shadow of what they were when she was young. She wished she had a better memory of them now, how the festivals used to be, how her parents used to greet the people and dance. It was mostly a blank, interjected with what she’d been told about sweets and dancing and music by others. She supposed it was normal to not remember much from her toddler years, but she longed to know what it would be like, if only to know what to be prepared for.

Kristoff would remember a little more than she would, but he wasn’t that much older than her really. She wondered if the trolls had their own festivals and celebrations and whether he’d tell her about them if she asked.

It was still strange for her to think about sometimes. That her husband was raised by the very trolls that had locked away her memories, that under different circumstances they may have met as children and that it could have changed everything if she had.

She didn’t know what it would have done in the long run. She didn’t know if they’d have been happier if their stories had played out differently, but as he held her hand, she knew that she wouldn’t want to turn back the clock even if she could. As messed up as everything was, she wasn’t alone, and his willingness to stand there with her, to try for her, was more than she’d ever had with anyone.

“Is it what you want?” he asked, seeming to take her dour expression as an indication that she didn’t want the party.

All I wanted for years was a celebration, people, music, and dancing. I wanted any of it. I wanted all of it.

“I… they didn’t ask…”

She shook her head for a moment, then looked at him apologetically, squeezing his hand a bit when she saw the furrow of his brow and the downturn of his mouth. She felt like she shouldn’t be worrying him, but she also liked that he seemed concerned. It was nice to know that someone cared whether she wanted something instead of just assuming.

“What I mean to say is, it doesn’t really matter if I want it or not, but I think I do. My sister was really excited to give us this because our wedding wasn’t…” she trailed off, knowing that he understood.

“She wants it to be a big thing for us even though she doesn’t even like big events. It’s sweet and I think it will really improve public perception of the crown, but I just don’t want it to be overwhelming for you. I imagine there will be a lot of eyes on us.”

His expression softened then. There was an understanding in his eyes and something else there that made her feel warm.

“As long as I don’t have to wear a suit like they crammed me in at the wedding I’ll be fine. Let them look, my eyes will be on you.”

She felt herself flushing bright red, and she was certain she was outshining her hair.

He said things like that in such a matter-of-fact tone that it was proving to consistently catch her off guard. There was no art to the way he said the words, no intent to woo or win her over. It was just the truth in his mind. She’d have his attention, even if all eyes were on him.

She needed to change the subject, averting her gaze from the intensity with which he was meeting her eye. She wondered if being with him would always be like this, butterflies in her stomach and the sensation of being wanted overwhelming her thoughts and senses. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be happy again if it was just temporary, a “honeymoon phase”, but there was a small hopeful part of her that said that as they got to know each other his affections wouldn’t wane or remain stagnant but instead that they would grow.

How wonderful it would be to be loved. How wonderful it would be to love.

She’d never felt anything so gratifying as being at his side, knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She was trying to tame her flush with a deep inhalation and exhalation, feeling his eyes on her and imagining the smile on his face that she couldn’t bring herself to look at.

“So, how was your meeting with the tailor?”

He made a pained sound, almost like a man dying.

She, for her part, let out a snort, sending them both into laughter.

It felt good to laugh in the room. It was like they were sweeping the cold from the corners.

I could love it here again.

***

Somewhere in the back of his mind Kristoff knew that he was entirely throwing off Kai’s plans for the day. The suit fitting had been just the first in a long list of tasks that had been set for the day. He was supposed to learn about peerage and how to greet royals, and about a thousand other bits and pieces of manners that Kai had decided he needed to learn as soon as possible.

Kristoff appreciated his assistance, and he did feel vaguely guilty for requesting the help and then being unavailable to actually receive it, but how could he go learn about salad forks and posture when Anna was pouring him a cup of tea and asking him excitedly what he remembered about festivals when he was young.

“I was so little when they stopped. I know now that we did need to close the gates for Elsa, but I just feel like we missed out on so much and that the people would have understood if they were just told… I mean…”

He listened intently to the way she described childhood years in the castle, not knowing why the gates were closed and not knowing why her sister never wanted to see her. It made him sad to think about when he’d never felt pushed away by his own family.

“So, do you remember what the food was like? I know you were only eight, but was there chocolates?”

He smiled, unable to help himself when she was so ecstatic about the possibility of him recalling anything at all about the only festival he remembered before the castle gates closed. It had been the summer solstice festival, before he ran away from the orphanage. He recalled it somewhat if only because it was one of the few bright spots he’d had before meeting Sven and then the trolls.

“I think there was. There were a lot of little cakes and things. We each got to have one and then we got to play a game, but I don’t remember what it was. Something with stones and chalk lines. I mostly remember watching the women dance. They had these bright ribbons in their hair and they were skipping around the maypole so everything was just fluttering and colorful. I kept wondering if one of them was my mom, and if maybe I stood close enough to the front of the crowd…”

He trailed off, then started again, “Anyway, I think some of the cakes had chocolate in them but mine didn’t. Mine had custard and I think it was the first time I had it because I remember being surprised by it.”

She had been writing down little things here and there in pretty script on a piece of paper. The things she wanted for the festival, the things he mentioned. He noticed that she’d stopped though.

“You were looking for your mom?”

He sighed, kicking himself a bit for bringing it up as he described the memory. He shouldn’t have said anything about it.

“I didn’t know what had happened back then… so I just assumed she lived in Arendelle and had misplaced me and that once she saw me she’d take me from the orphanage and I’d live with her. I didn’t even know what she looked like… I still don’t.”

He felt the silence grow around them, an uneasy sort of taunt energy that he hadn’t experienced since their wedding night, when she’d assumed and he’d not been sure what to say.

There’s going to be more of this. It’s not going to be easy all the time.

“You can ask.”

He looked at her then, saw the way her eyes were on the floor, anywhere but on him. He understood in a way. It was awkward to ask. Few people ever had except when he’d been very young. The answer had to be sad. Court order or death or abandonment were the popular choices, otherwise. There was never another reason for a child to be without his mother.

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t have all the details. I thought for a long time that I’d just gotten lost or something, but not too long after the festival I found out that she had died in childbirth. That was the day I left the orphanage. She was Sami. I guess my dad was from Arendelle, a harvester who died not long before I was born. He didn’t have any family, hers was too far away to contact or find I suppose. It doesn’t matter now anyway; I had a good childhood.”

Anna was quiet at his side. She was looking down at her hands now, they were folded in her lap awkwardly and really he wanted to reach out and hold them.

What’s stopping you?

He moved slowly, slipping a hand into her line of sight before covering her hands with it. Normally he waited for her to make the first move anytime they touched, but he was realizing that she was the sort of person who liked physical contact when she was upset or nervous, and he could provide that for her. He’d gladly give her all the gentle touches in the world if it meant she’d feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “losing your parents is hard.”

She would know.

He pressed against her hands gently and when she responded by turning her hand and lacing her fingers through his, he felt her relax a bit.

“I didn’t really know them. I was in the orphanage from the time I was born until I was eight. I started working with the harvesters for a while and then I found my family. You know I found them by following you, right?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d already told her that. If she knew that she was the reason he’d found his family.

“I know that the idea that all of this was destined to happen is kind of… strange to wrap your head around if you weren’t raised the way I was,” he said, “but it brings me some comfort to know that even the bad things that have happened might have some good come from them in the end.”

She was quiet for a little while, but when she squeezed his hand he understood that it meant she was okay.

“Did the trolls have festivals,” she asked after a little while.

He grinned.

“About a thousand.”

***

He described it all to her in vivid detail. She’d never heard Kristoff really tell a story before, but when he described the ceremonies and events that the trolls had every year, celebrating the seasons and weddings and births, it was magical. She could imagine herself there, watching it all.

“And when you turn eighteen… or well it was eighteen for me because humans have a shorter lifespan, but anyway, when you come of age there’s a big birthday party for you. Normally birthdays aren’t a big deal because the trolls have thousands of them, but this one is.”

She nodded, rapt with attention, her tea going cold along with his on the side table.

“So my parents both presented me to the family, like they had when they adopted me. You would have laughed if you saw how they dressed me, I had a cape made out of moss and a crown of twigs because that’s the tradition and let me tell you it looks better on the trolls than it did on me. But then everyone came forward and said something about me, even the kids and Sven which is exactly as comical as you’re probably imagining it in your head.”

“What sort of things did they say?”

She didn’t mean to interrupt, but she was genuinely curious.

He smiled and shook his head, looking a bit bashful, “The sort of stuff they show you every day, but don’t say out loud.”

She thought she could imagine.

I’ve been thinking that you’re kind since I met you, but I don’t say it.

I’ve been trying to show you I care about you, but the words don’t come.

“Then everyone sits together in a giant circle and eats dinner. My mother sang a song with my sisters and aunts and… well, someday when you’re comfortable, you’ll have to hear them sing. I know I’m biased, but it’s beautiful.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel a little wistful at the idea of it. She’d loved music as a child. She remembered fondly the days she and her mother would sit in front of the fire and sing folksongs together. She remembered the days her father’s tenor would add to the mix and even more far off, she could recall her sister’s voice mingling in the sound as well.

She wondered if maybe she’d sing to her own children someday, and then with a flush, wondered what her husband sounded like when he sang.

“I’d like that… then what happened?”

He laughed warmly at her enthusiasm.

“Then they gave me my crystals. I earned some when I was young… you earn them as you learn and grow, they’re…” he trailed off for a moment, thinking.

“They’re connected to the magic in the world. It probably sounds strange, but given what Elsa can do I’m sure you can understand. It’s strange, but the trolls can feel the magic all around them, it’s in their blood, and the crystals can help them in feeling it more strongly and in shaping it. I don’t have that connection, but the crystals are part of the culture so they gave them to me. Sometimes when I’m lucky and the energy is there I can get them to react the way they should. The trolls can use them to start fires and change the direction of streams and… it’s amazing. Mostly I can just get them to glow sometimes.”

Anna felt a small thrill in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure whether she should tamp down or not.

Because she’d seen his crystals. She’d touched them because he’d given her license to snoop through his things. She had still felt a little bad about the snooping though. She wondered if he’d be annoyed if she mentioned it.

She tried to read him. His body was relaxed at her side, his smile soft and his brown eyes were gazing upon her face with a warmth that made her feel like they’d known each other for months or years instead of a week.

It’s worth the risk. It’s worth it to open up to him. Has he hurt you for trying yet?

“I made the pink one glow,” she blurted, unable to help herself.

His brow furrowed, then he looked thoughtful.

“I’m sorry,” she added, not sure how to take his reaction, “I probably shouldn’t have snooped, but when we were at your cabin you told me I could look at your things while you were gone and I thought they were pretty and…”

She didn’t have anything else to say for herself. She held her breath, hoping that he wasn’t upset with her, hoping that at any moment he’d be amused by the fact that she was able to get one to glow without even knowing about them or their meaning.

“Pink?”

He asked it so quietly she almost didn’t realize he was asking her a question.

“Pink,” she answered, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice as she said it.

The confusion left his face, and when he met her eye again there was an intensity there that Anna couldn’t understand. His eyes held her gaze for a moment, before quickly, almost so rapidly that she wouldn’t have noticed, shifting to her lips and back again.

She hadn’t noticed how close they’d gotten on the settee, but now with him leaning even further into her space, she could feel his breath, she could see the stubble barely peeking up on his cheek, she could see him lick his lips.

She swallowed, then parted her own.

It would be so simple.

She’d only have to lean forward, just a little.

She could feel her heart racing in her chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and then she felt him draw closer.

This is it.

She remembered the kiss they’d shared at their wedding, she remembered how it felt when he’d pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Those had been chaste, one necessary for ceremony, the other to soothe, but a kiss now… it would mean something.

She tried not to feel disappointed when it never came, when instead his hand slipped from hers and went to her waist, when his forehead tipped against hers.

It’s too soon.

He wants to, but it’s too soon.

She tried to understand. Logically she knew it was true, and even the pain she’d suffered from another almost kiss in this place couldn’t challenge the warmth of his touch and the gentle way he spoke next.

“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

She felt an ache in her chest, almost as pleasant as it was new.

It means something.

She’d almost known it when she’d touched the gem, but now the confirmation in his words, the weight to them and the intimacy of their foreheads together, left her no room for doubt.

He pulled her into an embrace, their foreheads parting but his arms wrapping around her comfortingly, leaving her head to rest against his shoulder.

She almost opened her mouth to ask him what it meant, but then she closed it, letting herself have this moment with him.

I trust him.

He’ll tell me in his own time.

#A Convenient Arrangement #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #arranged marriage AU

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Dar - Rogue, Chapter 16| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: Din frantically searches to find you, but will all be well when he reaches you?

Warnings: Swearing, angst, injury/blood, drowning, mentions of dead bodies, Ltt me know if i forgot anything!

Word Count: 3.8k+

AN: Oh, dear.

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44

Gif by: @jesuiscalmedammit

Mando’a translation: Dar - No longer

Din couldn’t feel his feet.

Or his hands.

There was a thick layer of frost over his armour that crackled every time he moved, giving him the feeling of being encased in a walking, icy tomb.

Of course, if he couldn’t find you and the kids, that’s what his life would come to.

A yawning, bleak nothingness that was darker than his life had ever been. For now, he knew what he had to lose.

He had turned the whole of the Razor Crest apart, pausing to put out the fires now and then before continuing his manic search.

Every single inch, every nook and hidey hole and compartment – even the crates.

Nothing.

You had vanished like the ghost that people had dubbed you when trying to hunt you.

But he had still found you. Why couldn’t he do it again?

He’d managed to get out of the Crest, by climbing out through the doors which were stuck shut. The engines in the ship had died and all the power went out in the crash.

Which had only made him more confused about how the hell you had gotten out – and why.

Din knew you wouldn’t have abandoned them, but he had a horrible feeling that you didn’t leave the ship by choice.

Something had taken you. He knew it by instinct.

And his instinct was rarely wrong.

~~~

He had been walking for days – at least that’s what it felt like.

Din didn’t stop, only briefly when his body begged him to.

He couldn’t afford to stop really, not even for a second.

As soon as it became dark, he used the light on his helmet, but after one incident of nearly tumbling headfirst into an icy crevasse, he knew he would have to wait out the night.

How could he save you if he was lying in the bottom of a ditch with a broken neck?

The second the first streaks of sunlight peered weakly through the clouds; he was moving.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but reminisce of moments you had shared together, from the first time you’d met, all the way until now. Not always significant things, they could sometimes be just flashes, small details that his mind and heart had clung onto.

The way he had instantly thought you looked beautiful when you fought, even if you had been striking out to kill him on Sorgan.

The sharp bite of your words, or the crooning silk of them when you teased him.

The musical twinkle of your laughter filling the quiet atmosphere of this ship, beautiful and infectious.

The scent of you floating through the cockpit, sneaking up under his helmet and making his head spin and his heart flip over.

The ‘fresher always smelt of your soap after you’d been in there, some natural, flowery bar you’d bought from a market and now stayed firmly lodged in his senses.

The way your lips held a natural pout when you slept, as if taunting him. More than once he had to physically remove himself from your presence, before he yanked off his helmet and felt for himself if your lips were as soft as they looked.

The gentle tone you took with Grogu, even when you were scolding him for eating something he shouldn’t, like your fruit or your hair.

Your hair… the feel of it slipping through his fingers like water. Even if it were tangled, or thwapping in your eyes, it was still gorgeous, and he ached to brush it back and braid it out of the way for you.

He didn’t even know how to braid.

Din swallowed, feeling tears threaten the backs of his eyes.

He just couldn’t lose you.

You meant more to him that he could ever admit.

And he never even got to tell you how he really felt. Never got to tell you the things that kept him awake at night, the words that threatened to spill from his lips every time you smiled or laughed with him – but usually at him.

Never got to reveal his true face.

You had shot into his life and exploded like the fierce brilliance of a star, bathing him in light and something extraordinary that he had never realised he’d been missing.

You drove him insane, made him terrified with your reckless abandon, to the point where he thought he might have an aneurysm.

But more than that… you were a constant that he needed.

Sure, he had the kid, but this was different.

With you, he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t need to keep up the acts of Mandalorian, hunter, fugitive, protector, father.

He could just be… Din.

And telling you his name… Yes, he’d felt nervous, thought his heart might escape out of his throat but… he wanted to. It felt right, to give you something.

And now he might lose you without ever being able to tell you that he lo-

He was broken from his thoughts rather suddenly as his boot caught something and he went tumbling face first into the snow.

Which was hard, and felt… human?

Easing his numb limbs up, Din moved to a crouch to examine what he had ungracefully stumbled over.

His gloves were already soaked, so he made no haste in clearing away the thick, white powder until he revealed something shiny and hard, as white as the landscape.

Armour, layered over soaked black fabric…

Stormtrooper.

A very, very dead Stormtrooper.

Quickly, Din cleared the rest of the snow, and he sobbed out loud when he saw the cause of his death.

An arrow to the throat, which was unmistakably yours with the matte black and gold filigree design

You’d been here.

And you’d fought well, naturally.

He didn’t need to search the rest of the snow to know that there would be more bodies here, that was a waste of time.

Now he just had to find you.

There was a chance you may have been hurt, but the ever-falling precipitation and frigid air would have long since covered any tracks.

Din quickly scanned the trees, but there were no signs of the codes you had both established one night, should you ever be separated and need to find each other without drawing attention.

He was this close to you, literally holding a piece of you in his hands, and yet… he had no idea where to look.

When it came to you, everything he knew how to do often turned upside down.

Frantic anxiety crept along his spine as he rose to his feet, clutching the arrow and he ran a hand over the top of his head, an anxious gesture that would normally involve him running his fingers through his hair and tugging at it to try and make his brain kick into gear.

He was a hunter. A Mandalorian.

So why couldn’t he just hunt?

Doubt and frustration were just beginning to pull him into the depths of a breakdown, when he felt it.

A lick of power along the back of his neck, caressing gently and then disappearing again.

Din went rigid, his heart giving one thud and then seeming to go still as well, like it would help him concentrate better.

He hadn’t imagined it, had he?

Even the snow seemed to stop, everything pausing in anticipation.

The power crept along his shoulders, down his back and roamed over his chest. It slid down his arms and circled his hands, and for a single moment, he swore he could feel fingers laced through his own, tugging his hand gently the same way you did when you saw something pretty or you were in a market.

“I’m here. This way.” It seemed to whisper, “Come and find me…”

Din ran, not even hesitating as he felt the pull.

It was similar to the other night, when he first felt your power. It had that same tug, the same urgency.

Admittedly, there was something wrong with it, it felt… darker. It didn’t carry the same irresistible light that glowed from your very soul and chased away his shadows.

But it had to be you.

He didn’t know anyone else who could do that, apart from the kid and he didn’t know where Grogu was.

Besides, he wasn’t strong enough to do that.

It was you. He knew it was.

As he ran, he put it down to the trauma of being trapped out here, and maybe the fact you were grievously injured.

Maybe even dying.

That unwelcome thought had him moving even faster, following the call and caress of power as it led him across the icy plain, along a slushy river to the base of the largest glacier on the horizon.

The river opened up into a huge, solid lake, glittering with frost and hiding all manners of dark creatures in the murky, frigid depths.

Din bolted around a boulder, and what he saw nearly made his knees buckle in relief.

There you were.

You were alive.

Standing in the centre of the lake, feet planted firmly on the ground, crying as you saw him. You were whispering his name; he could see the way your lips moved and formed the one syllable.

Din had tears of relief on his own cheeks, and he ran a few steps onto the ice when his brain finally caught up and processed the scene.

Something wasn’t right.

You were crying, yes… But you were shaking your head, desperately, as if begging him... not to approach?

Why would you be begging him?

He looked at you properly for the first time.

You were standing oddly, arms behind you and the tension in your body looked like you were being held against your will.

But there was nothing there.

Which only one thing.

“Mando! Finally decided to join the show, did you?”

That fucking voice.

Rich and smooth, dripping like honey with none of the sweetness to match. It only left a bitter taste of copper and blood.

Din turned his head, hand already yanking his pulse rifle from his back and aiming it at Haran before his head even finished turning. “Let her fucking go.”

Haran was leaning against a boulder, one leg crossed over the other with his hands in his pockets. He chuckled, infuriatingly casual, “I’ve just been explaining to your princess here, that this is my game. My rules, my decisions. You are the pawns in my game, and I will move you as I see fit. It’s only just begun, and it is far from over.”

Din snarled softly, raising his hand more, “I don’t care whether you’re playing a game, or having a fucking tea party. Let her go. Now.” He walked further forward, his rifle unwavering and locked onto Haran.

Haran lifted a hand from his pocket, waggling his finger, “Nu-uh. Make one more move and...” He looked over at you, smiling sweetly and his finger just lightly twitched.

A sudden cry, your cry echoed across the air.

The sound of your pain wrenched through Din’s chest, as his head snapped to you and he made a soft noise of horror as he saw the wound that Haran had clearly just probed.

There was a circle of fabric singed and burned away, revealing angry, shining flesh beneath. By the edges of it, it looked almost cauterised... but still awful and blistered; a wound made by a weapon Din had never seen before.

His arm wavered, hearing you stifle your cries of pain, but you looked so pale, seemingly exhausted from the past few days.

And yet, despite the injuries, despite the terrible situation, that fire in your eyes still blazed. It was the untamed fire of a wolf, someone used to being on the edge again and again, and still fighting their way out.

A survivor.

You gazed back at him and your eyes roved over him, taking in every single inch of him, checking for wounds and anything obvious that would show hurt.

You couldn’t see his face, so you wouldn’t be able to see the tears that had frozen on his cheeks. You wouldn’t see the way he was panting, or the way his heart pounded against his ribs.

Normally, this situation would have been nothing to him, something he’d experienced multiple times. A stand off by a bounty who had nothing to lose.

But this was different.

Everything with you was different.

Even though you gave him a strength he never knew he had, you also scared the absolute life out of him. He had nightmares about this kind of situation, nightmares where he wasn’t fast enough to save you and you died in his arms.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

Haran’s voice flowed out again, purring, “You feel it don’t you? The fear… the terror of being faced with a choice. Knowing that in minutes, maybe even seconds, it’ll no longer be me holding her life. It’ll be you. You will be responsible for how your day ends. Embracing each other, alive and safe. Or clutching her dead body to you as you try to figure out just how you failed her.”

A wave of anger rolled through Din, edged with fear and revulsion at the joy in Haran’s voice. “You’re sick, you know that?”

Haran laughed again, rising to stand straight and he walked to the edge of the frozen lake, his black garb standing out starkly against the snowy white surroundings. “I’m not sick, Mandalorian. I just see the world clearly.”

He motioned toward you, “As I also explained to your darling princess - Everyone preaches that they will always sacrifice themselves for the one they love. That it would never be a choice to choose between a stranger, or their amour. But… they lie. When it comes down to it… They always choose wrong.”

He began to walk up and down the edge of the lake, with fluid movements that highlighted the fact that… he just wasn’t human. He couldn’t be.

“Now, of course, I know that if I presented you with saving your own life, or hers, you would choose hers. And she would beg me to save yours, and on and on it would go and be terribly boring.” He paused, stopping and looking between Din and you with a blissful grin, “So, I’ve decided to make it a little more fun.”

You moaned low, a noise of horror and you shook you head, tears forming in your eyes, “Please… Please don’t.”

Din’s blood began to turn even colder, “What are you talking about?” He spoke with fierce demand that didn’t match the turmoil inside.

Haran just smiled a pretty smile, “I’m going to make it harder for you.” He extended an elegant, gloved hand toward you, “Your beloved… or…” He turned his head toward Din, waving his hand again and suddenly, a small bundle flew through the air and he caught it.

Grogu.

He held up the Child, gripping him by the back of his tunic that Din had painstakingly made for him out of fabrics he salvaged from the ship. “Your sweet little child.”

Grogu whined, trying to move but it seemed that Haran had him gripped with the same power that was trapping you.

Din couldn’t breathe, couldn’t comprehend what was happening. There was no choice here. How could he possibly choose?

He swallowed, looking between his Child that he risked his life for, defected, became a fugitive… or the girl that he had been harbouring such love and deep affection for since the night he had nearly lost his life in the alley way.

There was no choice here.

He would save the pair of you, even if he had to die.

The wheels in his brain started turning, spinning over and calculating multiple strategies, how to best save you both with the least amount of harm.

He ran a mental check of his weapons. He had a few Whistling Birds left, his beskar spear, pulse rifle and a knife.

Sure, Haran had those Force powers, but Din was fast… and he had no mercy when those he loved were in danger.

A delicate snort of laughter broke his reverie, and he shifted his attention back to the terrifying legend come to life, “Oh, Mando, please don’t embarrass yourself. I know you think you have the upper hand, but maybe you’ve forgotten that I simply will tear them both apart without blinking. I need your beau, yes, but I’m not afraid to break her first. It’ll only make my job easier.” He grinned, as he were discussing how cold it was, not the fates of his family. “You have to choose, Mandalorian. I don’t have all day. Even monsters like me get cold.” He winked, his scar pulling tight his eyelid for a second.

Din rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on his blaster, “You truly think you can do this do us? You are nothing. A monster who delights in hurting people. I’m not listening to you-“

Haran sighed, an over the top, dramatic sigh, “Stars above, I’m bored of this now.” He hauled Grogu up higher, yanking the tube free from his belt and he activated his lightsaber, holding it close to Grogu’s little throat. “For every minute you keep me waiting, I will burn your little baby here. He’s only small, so I’d say you don’t have long. And then, if you’re still keeping me waiting, I’ll do the same to your princess over there, looking all pretty on the ice.”

The gold light bounced off Gorgu’s skin, dangerously close and the little creature whimpered.

For a moment, Din struggled to keep his cool.

There was a sudden flash in his mind, of himself crying over both yours and Grogu’s dead bodies. Because he was too slow, too late and too cocky.

He swallowed back the rising panic clawing up his throat and shook his head a little.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks now, and you turned your head to look at Haran, body still restricted tightly against your will, “Please, please don’t do this. I take it back. I’ll stay with you, or you can kill me. Just don’t hurt him.” You struggled pointlessly against the bonds, trying to send your own power out but Haran had suffocated you.

Din shook his head harder, fiercely, and he was just about to tell you exactly why that would not be happening, when he caught movement above Haran.

His helmet was already turned toward Haran, so he wouldn’t notice the way Din was now searching the boulder above his shoulder.

He could have sworn he saw something, just a flicker-

There.

He did.

A pair of small, glossy black eyes. The very tips of big pointy ears attached to a round head that was barely poking above the top of the boulder.

Suddenly, Din knew exactly how this was going to play out, and what he had to do.

Be the distraction, until he could run and save you.

“Why? Why do I need to choose? What could you possibly gain out of making me decide?” He didn’t risk moving, wanting to keep Haran’s attention focused on himself without letting Grogu be hurt.

Haran rolled his eyes, “You tell me I’m a heartless monster, and then you ask me why I’m doing this?” He looked over at you, “I thought he was supposed to be smart? Tell me there’s something else good going for him besides hunting people.”

You snarled at him, eyes practically spitting fire even though they were glossy with tears, “You should see what he can do with his hands.”

That’s my girl.

Din could have cried at the fact you were still snarking despite the rapidly spiralling situation.

Haran blinked at you for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes before his lips curled up into a wicked smirk, “Oh, I have. Your mind is a lovely little place.” He dropped you another wink and then looked at Grogu, bringing his saber dangerously close agin, “You two have been the centre of my games for far longer than you realise. And this won’t be the last time we meet, believe me. I have much, much bigger plans to set in motion, that will make you wish – Aaah!”

His words were cut off with an uncharacteristic cry of pain as Duru sprang from the top of the boulder, sinking her wickedly sharp claws straight into Haran’s head. She hissed at him, swiping her paws over his forehead and eyes, opening deep cuts that immediately pooled blood.

“Get the fuck off me!” Haran clawed at her, and his effort to dislodge her, he dropped Grogu, becoming more preoccupied with saving his eyes than holding the little baby hostage.

As soon as he landed in the snow, Duru leapt down next to him, biting the back of his tunic and streaking across the snow toward Din. Her head was nearly the same size as Grogu’s entire body, so she had no trouble hauling him to safety.

A frantic laugh bubbled into Din’s throat, but he quelled it fast, because Haran had stopped spinning and wiping the blood from his eyes.

He looked up, his hair sticking out wildly, and with the streaks of blood running down his face, his bared teeth and furious eyes, he truly looked every bit the madman he was believed to be, “You think you can beat me? That I will be taken down by a pest?” He laughed, but this laugh wasn’t silken, or seductive. It was off-kilter, manic and oh-so twisted.

Din turned to you, quickly whilst Haran was laughing, “Sweetheart, run-“

Haran stopped laughing, “Oh, Mando. It’s you that needs to run.” His hand emerged from behind his cloak, and then he suddenly shot at the ice surrounding your feet, multiple blows in rapid succession.

The entire lake rumbled, fissures snaking across the surface like lightning bolts.

With each new appearance, the ice cracked, a deep, echoing noise that Din felt in his bones.

Thousands of splinters appeared around the holes at your feet, exploding across the surface of the lake quicker than taking a breath.

For a few moments, everything seemed suspended as time grew limitless.

Din could count every single squeeze of his heart, could feel every ragged breath dragging in and out of his lungs.

He could see each snowflake that danced in the air, their unique beauty a stark contrast to what was happening.

He saw Haran’s grinning, bloodied face disappearing behind the boulder, making his escape.

Din heard Grogu’s piercing cry of fear, and the noise shattered the haze of time and everything seemed to snap into fast-forward.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening, even though he screamed at his feet to move, to run, to save you-

You barely had time to hold out your hand, for your lips to just form The Mandalorian’s name…

And then the ice gave way into the fathomless depths.

And you were gone.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #rogue #the mandalorian #din djarin #Pedro Pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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tundrainafrica · 3 years ago

Text

Title: Lovebug (13/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

With attire alone, Levi was already a fish out of water.

As the seconds ticked though, his self consciousness only grew.

It wasn’t just an issue of clothing. Too many things had been against him the whole way to the dinner room. The white and silver of the windows of the private dinner room in the hotel reflected the setting sun, the marble floors, the glass bridge, the carpeted floors.

The scenery was only half the battle though. The men and women strode in and out of the dinner room with attire much grander than is. There were leather bags, the jewelry and constantly hovering in the air were the business vernacular that fell into one ear and out the order.

There were too many conversations on mergers, acquisitions, business climates, market prices he could never be part of. And his own direct companions weren’t making it any better.

As Levi soon understood, it wasn’t their job to make him feel comfortable anyway.

“Yelena,” he repeated, a memory exercise for himself. The whole journey from the convention center on the first floor to one of the rooms in the mid floor of the hotel was silent and long. In the sea of business pleasantries though, it seemed ironic that the blonde had never even made conversation beyond her own name.

Even as she sat next to him on the dinner table, she didn’t speak, not even bothering to respond to her own name. She was too close though, only a few inches away that Levi swore she had heard it.

“That’s your name right?” Levi added. He couldn’t think of much else to say. After blurting her name mindlessly, with Porco and Pieck seated just in front of him, looking at him expectantly, he knew he had to continue with something.

“I introduced myself back in the lobby already,” Yelena finally responded.

“You did,” Levi said.

“Is there anything you want to ask?” Yelena asked, no hint of benevolence in her tone.

Levi had been rolling on the bed, in and out of sleep the whole day. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to think.

Yelene had a knowing look on her face, as if she knew something he didn’t. And she seemed to be enjoying it. Since a while ago, she hadn’t at all been subtle with the fact that somehow, by just their first meeting, Levi had managed to rub her the wrong way. It wasn’t too radical of an idea, that she may enjoy his pain.

Levi’s mind was suddenly racing, reminding him why he had even considered going in the first place. Is there anything you wanna ask? Those words echoed for a while longer. The longer he sat there silently, the more restless he became. He avoided her gaze, looking behind her, then behind Porco and Pieck, taking in his surroundings again. He was observing mannerisms, branded bags, branded ties, branded purses and Zeke in the middle of all of it, going from one table to the other.

Eventually, after the discomfort settled, Levi realized he was torturing himself for a reason.

Hange wasn’t there. And he shouldn’t have needed that long look to notice it. But you’ve given up already? Right?

“You’re not going to eat?” Pieck was a lot more friendly. There was a huge difference between being polite and being friendly and Levi suspected, he was only seeing politeness as friendliness given the stark contrast of Yelena’s overall approach towards him

In the air, tension hung so thick. Levi didn’t notice a piece of bread and a bowl of soup had been served in front of him. “I will.” He immediately went for the spoon in front of him.

“That’s the spoon for the main course,” Yelena said.

“What?” By the second, Levi was starting to realize how disconnected he actually was. Around the soup, there were spoons, forks and knives in multiple sizes. In a panic, Levi had looked around to see it was the same for everyone else.

Yet, everyone else knew how to navigate such a complex design.

“The small one is the soup spoon.” Pieck was helpful at least. “No, that’s the tea spoon,” she added as she looked pointedly at the smallest one Levi had taken hold of.

Levi was familiar enough with tea to be familiar with the size of the teaspoon. At that point though, who cared what spoon he ate with? He wasn’t there to dine.

By some pride or just utter frustration at the whole situation, the spoon debacle was never solved and Levi never touched his soup that night. He closed himself off from everything else, keeping his world closed to anything but the entrance, Zeke, the crowds, and the one familiar face he wanted to see.

But Hange never showed up.

“She’s not coming. If that’s what you’re thinking.” Yelena could have been reading his mind.

“Who’s not coming?” Levi asked. He widened his eyes in mock surprise but he kept his voice toneless. In his mind, that seemed like a good balance to display both calm and disconnect.

Yelena never answered the question. Maybe she knew silence was the right answer, that is, if her attention had been to keep his insides boiling in frustration, his mind racing.

The grin on her face only proved it. Maybe that was her intention.

It only got worse though as the night dragged on and Levi noticed his own restlessness around the salad course that he could barely even look at.

He could barely coordinate his hands. His legs were trembling.

Those few moments he focused on evening out his breathing, he was able to grip the spoon, then the steak knife as the main course came in.

As if to add salt to whatever wound she had, Yelena commented abruptly. “It’s not everyday people like you will be able to get steak like this.”

The steak could have just been soft. Or Levi was recovering. One of those, he couldn’t be too sure. But it was a good steak. He could tell that much. It melted in his mouth and he had spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating how it was physically possible for steak to melt in his mouth.

Then suddenly the delectable steak rotted mid chew. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” It was as if Yelena was on a mission to be a total buzzkill. Maybe she was being paid by Zeke to do just that.

And she was doing a wonderful job. Levi almost choked on that last piece, his fork fell to his lap. In a bout of embarrassment, he stood up. “Toilet.”

Five minutes and an empty bladder later, whatever peace and calm he had managed to muster alone in the toilet completely dissipated. It seemed like that dinner was also on a mission to make him as miserable as possible even in a supposedly pleasant environment.

“Where’s my steak?” Levi put too much energy into keeping his tone as subdued as possible.

“Oh, you weren’t done?” Pieck asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He had only gotten two bites. Of course, he wouldn’t be done. He was close to raising his hand up to call the waiter until he was reminded, he didn’t even pay for the dinner. Did he even have the right to complain?

At that point, Levi was just a little ticked, his grumbling stomach at having missed three courses over his own discomfort and tense state was already catching up to him. “What made you think I was done?”

“You put your spoon and fork together, like this,” Pieck said. “That means you’re done with the course.” She organized her plate the same way Levi did, for just a second.

Maybe Levi had been too self conscious. In an attempt to seem more posh than he actually was, Levi had channeled his own fastidiousness into putting the utensils together before he left for the toilet.

“I would think someone who works in corporate would know this. This is standard fine dining,” Yelena said nonchalantly.

Fine dining for Levi meant a dinner at a cafe, or a sit down restaurant. The whole world that existed for the sake of fine dining, the course meals, the secret language he didn’t seem to understand felt completely unnecessary. And the longer they sat there as if deliberately keeping him in the dark while he starved, Levi only became more and more impatient.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have known any better at first,” Levi said.

“I’ve been handling Zeke’s properties overseas for years so I’ve had my fair share of fine dining experience.” She then turned to Pieck and Porco who both nodded. “Even before that, my parents have taught me this. Have yours?”

Levi’s earliest memories of fine dining had been sit down restaurants, diners, nothing too fancy. He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t come here with the intention of dining. You put me on that list yourself, without even waiting for a reply.” He regretted it, as soon as he let it out. His grumbling stomach had him almost out of control.

Yelena raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Then why did you still come, Mr. Ackerman? The free food?”

Levi froze.

“The free food you barely even touched?” Yelena pressed.

And Levi stiffened up, much harder than he would have thought was ‘completely frozen.’

“You have some business to settle with Mr. Jaeger I’m guessing?”

“It’s none of your business.” Levi managed to say.

“I’ve been working for the Jaegers for years. I manage their overseas properties, a few apartments and houses here and there,” she said proudly.

“And?” Levi challenged. “Does that make you entitled to whatever other business Zeke has?”

That question was a response enough. Enough to get Yelena crack, her expression shifted from incredulous, to abrasive to subdued. One eyebrow raised, mouth twitching slightly. “I had to clean up the mess you two left behind.”

Mess? Levi had an inkling of an answer.

A clatter of metal on a plate. “Yelena! Not here,” Pieck said.

“Then we should talk outside then.” Yelena was half way to standing up, before she stopped herself.

Levi found himself following her gaze. The one view that had her frozen in her tracks had been Zeke and before Levi even knew it himself, he was just as surprised as Yelena.

“Should we retire early?” Zeke asked.

“Sir, you haven’t eaten yet,” Yelena argued.

Zeke shook his head. “I hold these dinners to find potential business partners, not to eat.” He turned to Pieck. “I think Pieck can take over from here. I’ll leave you to answer any questions about Jaeger healthcare holdings.”

Pieck nodded. “Yes sir, I’ll take over.”

“No hurry, everyone’s still busy with their meals…” Zeke looked pointedly at his surroundings at the other people. HIs staff table had been conveniently placed by the corner, and it didn’t seem at all like their conversation had been heard by everyone else.

Pieck and Porco were noticeably eating faster, seeming deep in thought. Back into business mode maybe, the caustic exchange of a while ago completely forgotten. Or at least they looked like they were attempting to forget it.

Not burdened with that same responsibility, Yelena didn’t seem to put up any facade. Her own antagonizing attitude towards Levi didn’t falter. Yet somehow, Zeke’s presence had kept her mum, subdued her to just venomous glares.

They exited the dinner hall and made their way out of the hallway, opening up to the open hotel lobby. “We can talk in my private suite,” Zeke said. “I don’t like having a lot of my conversations in public.”

Levi didn’t respond. The glances Yelena snuck him only made it harder to come up with anything more than a few mumbles which he was sure would only make him look pathetic in front of Zeke.

“Did you pay for the flight yourself?” Zeke asked.

Levi nodded. Where’s Hange? That thought tore into his mind so abruptly, Levi found himself having to clamp his mouth shut, much tighter than normal. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. God knows, he might end up asking just that cursed question.

“You’re quiet,” Zeke commented as they entered the elevator. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

Levi nodded and mumbled some hint of a yes.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Really what was your favorite course?”

The steak obviously. Even those words got caught somewhere in his throat, admitting to Zeke that he enjoyed the food seemed almost like flaunting himself naked.

Luckily—or unluckily, Zeke didn’t prod, instead going for another speech which made Levi regret keeping silent. “I hold dinners every night for PR, get the right potential partners to the same room, for my healthcare holdings, my supermarket holdings, my…” Zeke rattled on.

To Levi, it felt the blonde had just been jacking himself off instead of actually making conversation. Still, that gave Levi time to think.

Thinking turned out to be a bad thing.

Even before they arrived at the penthouse floor, Levi had to admit, the hotel was posh. The scent of new wood hung in the air, the marble finishings, the lamp made out of metals Levi suspected weren’t easy to acquire. And when they stepped from the elevator wing to the matted floor of the penthouse, whatever plush they used underneath greeted him in some strange manner.

Strangely, Levi felt guilty for dirtying something which he was completely aware was supposed to be dirtied anyway dealing with foot traffic everyday. Then the more they walked, the more self conscious he became of the way he was walking.

Zeke and Yelena both walked ahead with confident strides and Zeke never stopped talking. When Levi found himself listening, he noticed, Zeke's tirades only made the grand hall seem grander, a completely different world to Levi, something he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Was he a visitor. Hell, maybe not even a visitor. A slave? A serf?

“The convention is to attract potential resellers. We’re planning on reselling our research, our products, our technology, to this region...”

They walked towards the end of the hall, stopping in front of some fancy door only accentuated by the plush carpets and the decorative lamps.

“... And this city will be our hub…” It looked like Zeke had been too distracted by his own grand plans to even bother to open the door. It was fortunate then that Yelena had the key and that she knew her way into the presidential suite.

They settled on the sofa in the living rooms, the first room past the foyer.

“We’ll set up office space... Maybe a building...”

It was around then that Levi noticed he hadn’t been offered a seat but he didn’t mind it too much. The multiple sitting rooms, the wide window to one side that gave a good view of the infinity pool on the balcony, and beyond that, a view of the city.

Did Hange get to swim? Levi looked out for a while longer and he couldn’t look away. The longer he looked, the easier it became to imagine her leaning over the infinity pool in her purple bathing suit.

“It will cost a few million dollars…”

Just like in the country club.

“Levi, you want to go for a swim?”

Levi coughed, an instinctive movement. “Sorry… Excuse me, what?”

Zeke looked very unimpressed. It was obviously a joke. “For gods sake, sit down. It’s distracting just watching you stand awkwardly.”

“So why did you invite me here?” Levi asked. If not to listen to you ramble. He added silently to himself.

“I think I have a right to answer first,” Zeke said. He nodded to Yelena. The latter walked away and back to the kitchen. “Why are you here? Don’t tell me you’re here for the convention?”

“What if I am?”

Zeke spared a small grin. He leaned back on the sofa and looked to the side, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. “And do you have plans of investing?”

Millions of dollars. Those three words echoed in Levi’s head. He didn’t have that money and he most likely never would.

Zeke didn’t give him time to speak. “Figures,” he muttered. “So why did you come here?” He asked in a clearer voice.

“You invited m---”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t here already,” Zeke said.

Yelena chose that moment to come in between them, a wine bottle on one hand, two wine glasses on the other. Her movements were too casual, the fine dining positions of a while ago seemed almost like a facade.

Zeke gave a nod in thanks. “Sit where you’re comfortable.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She settled on one of the sofa chairs, a comfortable distance between them. She mirrored Zeke’s own expression, a mix between mocking and expectant.

It only became harder to speak. When Levi was weighing between speaking up and staying mum, he found, as painful as it was to continue speaking, the outcome seemed more desirable.

At least in his head.

“What’s wrong? Can’t tell me why you visited my convention?” Zeke took a sip of the wine. “Unless it’s something… controversial? Embarrassing? Offensive?.”

Levi felt his skin crawl. Not completely in control of his body, he almost feared his facade cracking and not noticing it. He cleared his throat. “I was going to speak.” He paused, using that moment, to meet Zeke’s eyes. “It’s about Hange.”

“What about my Hange?” Zeke had put too much emphasis in those last two words, it seemed almost out of place. In one sleek movement, he straightened up on his seat and tightened his grip on his wine glass

It was as if Levi was walking on Zeke’s territory, completely unwelcome. And Levi was starting to notice that. He shook his head and softened his voice, a subtle peace offering. “I had plans for the emotion alarm, I wanted to discuss them with Hange, get her opinion---”

“Erwin hasn’t told you yet?” Zeke put down his wine glass. “We’re terminating the contract.

It was like a ton of bricks fell on him. His stomach followed suit. Levi went for his wine glass and took a long sip which quickly turned into a gulp then he let out a cough. Water would have done a much better job to clear the tickle in the throat, the pang in his chest and the hollowness in his chest that followed. But he wasn’t going to ask for water in Zeke’s territory yet.

A ninety five percent chance of termination. Erwin had said back in their meeting.

“So it’s final?” Levi asked. The crushing disappointment had been enough proof that Levi had been vouching on that five percent.

Zeke nodded once. “Hange won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll find another developer for her to work with.”

“I was working on some plans. They’re suggestions I was hoping she’d consider. If I---”

“Levi, can you send it over through email? Do you have to talk to her?”

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. He bent his head down almost immediately, focused on his shaking hands that were only gripping his knees tighter. He dug his nails into his knees, as if that would be enough to stop the shaking. “No, I don’t need to.” It could have come out as an exhale or an actual response.

“Well, that makes things easier. You know, she doesn't want to see you.” Zeke’s voice was painfully casual.

Levi looked up again, regretting it almost immediately. Zeke had a look of triumph on his face. It had only served to piss Levi all the more that Zeke had tried to hide it behind a nonchalant face. Seeing the small smile that decorated his lips, Levi dug his nails deeper into his knees. “Then why?”

“Why what?” Zeke pressed. “Why doesn't she want to see you?” His voice was getting colder and colder with each word. They twisted into an almost malevolent sneer.

“Why invite me here?” Levi asked, his voice clipped. Grappling with both Zeke’s attitude and the revelation on Hange’s feeling, Levi was finding it harder to speak.

“So you came because you were invited then?” Zeke took another sip. “And how were you invited?”

Does he expose Hange? And maybe Levi had taken too long vacillating.

Zeke had ended up answering the question himself. “An email? A support ticket with a flyer? Spam mail?” He took another sip. “You and your company have your very techy love alarm. And I have my own version too, my very old fashioned love alarm.” He gestured in front of him, right at Levi. “And it’s ringing in front of me right now.”

It took a few more seconds for Levi to understand it.

Zeke was either impatient. Or probably he thought Levi was a total idiot. He bent forward, leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his wine glass on the wooden table with a loud clack.“Tell me, why would you go all the way here, over a fake email?” he asked. “Her name really was enough for you to book a plane ticket and fly across the ocean?”

Levi didn’t respond.

And it looked like Zeke didn’t need an answer anyway. He waved one hand in front of him and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know, there are meetings that could have been emails yet you still chose to take a plane and come here.”

“Do you want me to write an email?” Levi asked.

Zeke shrugged. We don’t need your input. This project...it’s mine and Hange’s.”

Yours and Hange’s? He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, as if that slow and subtle movement had been enough to quell the fire in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s our project. It’s my gift to Hange.”

What does that make me? Levi didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t even want that instinctive jaw drop, the twitch in his mouth that followed to expose what the hell he was thinking.

“You’re merely someone paid to do the work.” Zeke continued, as if he had heard Levi's silent question.

Levi didn’t even feel it. He wasn’t even completely aware it happened until Zeke’s eyes widened for a split second in surprise, then narrowed again, shifting instead to one could have been pure fury.

But Levi didn’t care. Even when looking down had revealed, he spilled wine all over the lush carpet. The wine glass had hit the table, scattering pieces of broken glass on the table and over the floor.

It would be a bitch to clean up. Levi didn’t care about that either, it wasn’t his mess. It wasn’t his fucking presidential suite.

Zeke just had more practice in the diplomacy department. “Why do you feel it necessary to stand up and cause such a ruckus?”

The calmness had Levi’s blood boiling more violently inside him. He could only be grateful that the breaking the wine glass had released some of that pent up energy.

Zeke was only making it harder and harder to stay still. “I’m only stating facts. The money I put into it makes it mine. The fact that you’re being paid to do it. The fact that you even signed an employment contract relinquishes all ownership you have of all the projects you do in the company. You of all people should know that. I can’t even believe I need to school someone like you on this. You can’t even keep yourself together.”

Levi looked away, back at the view of the balcony, the glowing city. How much of it was owned by people who knew nothing about construction, architecture or just the hard work that went into even making such a view possible? A tiny injustice that surfaced in Levi’s mind as he let Zeke’s words sink in. “With all due respect... ” His last few words came out softer than expected. But Levi had seemed almost confident with them. “...You know jackshit about coding or psychology.”

Soon, Levi gripped enough of that new found confidence to take control of the conversation. “You know nothing about how any of that shit works. You didn’t stay up all night working on that damn application. I’ll fucking bet my whole life savings you don’t even know how this application works.”

“Ackerman, watch your mouth!” It was Yelena who spoke, looking as if she had just recovered from shock, eyes wide, her own wine glass on the table.

Levi cleared his throat. “Once again, with all due respect.” He was mildly aware then, that he may have raised his voice. Zeke was surprisingly—almost admirably calm. He put one hand as if to stop Yelena and spoke up. “And does ‘knowing jackshit’ make me less of an owner?”

That was a question that Levi couldn’t answer. He regretted losing control. In shock, or in some punishment which only the inner workings of his mind understood, Levi could only stand still, unable to even sit back down.

Zeke stared at him accusingly. “Mr. Ackerman…” he started. “You don’t believe there’s any dignity in the labor of moving money around? Investing and reinvesting?”

Levi felt shame wash over him.

It was a strange state to be in. There was more than enough dignity in being a billionaire, in being one of the top one percent who just bought and sold whatever they got their hands on. It was an inarguable fact that society thought highly of the top one percent regardless of where they got their money. Yet Zeke had a way of speaking that made Levi reflect the validity of his own words, any disrespect or any backhanded insult he could have been sending to anyone else.

Levi knew he was being manipulated but he couldn’t seem to point out how.

Maybe it had been the way Zeke had opened his eyes, his face a mix of confusion, hurt, with a hint of derision. Or maybe everything had been Levi’s imagination and once again he was faced with the prospect that maybe he didn’t mean it.

“That…” That wasn’t what I meant.

At that point, Zeke had stood up and at that difference of height and difference of social status, Levi had to bite his tongue, not to lose his composure.

Zeke though seemed to know he had taken control of the conversation. “You’re trying to cover your ass?”

“Cover… my ass?” Levi said that last word with a little more venom in his mouth. Somehow, the eloquent Zeke suddenly putting so much force into one single curse only added to the tension of that moment.

“Trying to justify your own mistakes by emphasizing your own superiority. It’s a very common tactic. You’re not the first to employ it.”

“I never---”

“You should be thanking me. I’ve been treating you fairly, paying you for your hard work. And on top of that, I’ve tolerated the transgressions, even putting more money unnecessarily into covering this up.” Zeke said. He walked towards the kitchen island, pulling an envelope from next to the telephone and slamming it on the counter. He wasn’t motioning though for Levi to come.

Levi preferred to stay frozen, just standing between the sofa and the coffee table. But when Zeke opened the envelope, pulling out pictures, and a few pages which he waved on the air and slammed on the table, Levi’s curiosity peaked.

Levi covered the distance in so short an amount of time, he never figured out if he seemed too desperate.

In hindsight, it wasn’t important. The contents of the papers, the pictures bundled together by paper clips had only been a more pressing matter.

Zeke’s words only confirmed it. “You went on a road trip up north on Hange’s birthday?”

“We did,” Levi said. There wasn’t much else he could have said to deny it. The evidence was too overwhelming— blurred pictures, screenshots of comments online in threads, subthreads, all speculating Hange’s side relationship.

“No use denying it. Yelena made a call to our employees in our estate up north. They mentioned Hange’s companion when she visited.”

“But we didn’t do anything…”

Zeke raised one eyebrow as if he had caught them in the act. “I’m not accusing you of it. But what would you say in your defense? When the Love Alarm rings, when you book a double room in a motel and when you’re together, almost inseparable in all of these pictures,” Zeke spread the photos on the table, shots of them in the motel, in the train station, in Zeke's house. “Hange isn’t a high profile person. It never made the news, Yelena and I made sure of that but people talk, anyone familiar with the tech world and particularly interested in it, would know how our family looks like."

It was funny, how anger could so easily sour to shame. At that moment, Levi considered disappearing an almost welcome development. Zeke pushed the pictures nearer to him, in one messy pile, the screenshots on comments, mentioning words like ‘misters,’ ‘paramours,’ ‘who’s the man???’ “We purged the internet of all photos, no names. Some people repost but I have people watching and reporting. This isn’t cheap.”

I’m sorry. Levi’s first instinct was to apologize, the adamance of a while ago almost completely forgotten. But sorry’s wouldn't work. “How much? I’ll pay what I can.”

Zeke scoffed. “Can you?”

Levi couldn’t think up much to say. He scanned his eyes over the comments at first to feign business, an excuse not to speak up. The more he looked, the more engrossed he got at lines of comments. Others towards him, then as he turned the pages, they were all towards Hange.

Slut. Whore. Low life. Cheater.

“I’ll pay what I can,” Levi said.

“How much are you willing to shell out? A hundred grand?”

That was a huge chunk of Levi’s annual earnings already. He wasn’t one to disclose salary though. He kept his mouth a thin flat line and nodded.

Zeke shook his head. “I’ll be generous, considering all the inconvenience you’ve caused both of us. While you're here, humor me,” he said. “I may not be a coder or a psychologist but I’m sure, there are things I can teach you. If you’re willing to shell out a hundred grand, let’s gamble with it. I haven’t had a good game in a while.”

“A good game?”

Zeke turned to Yelena. “Can you be a dealer again?”

“You plan on playing heads up?” Yelena asked,

“We have a table in one of the private rooms, why not?”

“Heads-up poker?” Levi clarified. There was only one game heads up that the two could have been referring to, mentioning terms like ‘deal.’

Zeke didn’t even bother to answer the question either for lack of consideration for Levi or just an expectation that Levi may have understood.

Levi didn’t live under a rock and he was very much familiar with the game. He had played a few games on online poker sites back in college.

Still, he moved a little sluggishly behind his two companions. Levi could have just been a little too wary or Zeke could have been out for blood.

The stakes then and there were completely different. For one, he had never bet almost a year’s worth of his own salary on a single game. He had never played with anyone whose net worth was a thousand, or maybe even a million times his own.

At that moment, Levi felt like a total beginner and it was as if hesitation clipped every single moment he managed to pull out of himself. There wasn’t too much he was expected to do but watch as Yelena prepared a few playing cards then chips.

Zeke made himself comfortable right in front of Levi. “Willing to bet a hundred grand?” he said those last words with an ominous smile on his face.

Levi sensed danger, but he couldn’t sense any proper way out either. He owed Zeke, he knew that much, whether it be for the money or the utter disrespect he had been treating him with since a while ago. Maybe he owed Zeke for more than that, for any inconvenience Zeke may have experienced at Levi having gotten a little too close to Hange.

Levi admitted, even just to himself, he had been a little too close to Hange for either of them to have been comfortable. Guilt, a sense of duty or just hyper awareness of everything all at once had Levi conceding, “Do I pay now?”

“We play with chips first,” Zeke responded.

Yelena dropped colored stacks of chips in front of them. Levi counted reds, blues, yellows, browns.

“You should have a hundred thousand worth,” Yelena said. “Do you know the colors?”

“Yes, just a bit.” Dabbling into online poker for a few months at least, Levi had enough experience to tell the browns as five thousands, the light blues as two thousand and the rest had inferred for himself from the amount of chips in front of him. He looked up to see that Zeke had a noticeably larger stack. “That looks like a lot more than a hundred grand,” Levi noted.

Zeke didn’t answer immediately and the flicker of realization came quicker, quick enough to have Levi coughing in surprise. The odds were against him.

“It is,” Zeke said as he counted his own chips, as if it wasn’t plain and utter cheating or even deception that he had a glaringly higher amount of chips than Levi. He slipped the chips towards the side and looked questioningly at Levi.

What had Hange told him back then in the golf course?

Zeke likes winning...But the way he goes about winning is like...He’s always been smart about it, always playing safe.

And what a better way to play safe than to have a larger pile than your opponent.

Zeke spoke up. “Hange and I, we’d play games with business partners while talking contracts and logistics. And Hange always said this about games. They teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… And the more I played with Hange, whether it be mahjong, blackjack, golf, or chess, I started to notice something. Games are a mirror of life, almost a clear reflection of what you deal with in business and in relationships.”

Zeke paused for a second and closed his eyes as if deep in thought. The room filled with the sound of shuffling of cards, the sound of the clack of chips as Zeke ran his hand over the brown ones, tapping them over the wooden round table in stilted and deafening movements.

“Poker is one of my favorite games. Like business, you base your decision on three things… Tells, numbers and circumstances,” He paused for a few seconds longer and he could have been expecting Levi to speak.

Levi didn’t look up though, instead using the brief silence to make sense for himself the amount of chips on his side.

Zeke spoke again. “Yelena, shuffle up and deal. We’re playing heads up. Our small blind is five hundred dollars and our big blind is one thousand dollars,” he said coldly. “I hope that isn’t too much money.”

In truth, that was enough money to make Levi’s stomach turn. Zeke’s manner didn’t look like it welcomed any protest though, so Levi merely nodded as some weak reply.

A weak nod could have sufficed as a response. Zeke turned to Yelena. “Give our valued guest the dealer button.”

The dealer plays the small blind. Levi counted five hundred dollars worth of chips and pushed it in front of Zeke.

Two cards lay in front of him, care of Yelena. Levi had played before and he was familiar at least with what a good hand would have looked like. In one swift movement, he held the cards in front of him.

Ten of Clubs and Nine of Clubs. With just one look, he knew he could complete either a flush or a straight.

If the board plays to his advantage.

Zeke tutted. “It’s not considered good practice to lift the cards. Most poker players would just raise the corner just high enough to see their own cards.” He demonstrated that exact same movement, only raising high enough that he could get the contents cards with one glance. “You’ve never played on the board?”

“I’ve played for a few months online,” Levi muttered. He would look back at that experience with little animosity. After all, a few months dabbling with bets online and just applying what little he learned from his statistics class had seemed like an overall enriching experience at first. Then and there, on the board, with thousands of dollars at stake, Levi felt utterly vulnerable. Like a beginner. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, someone with only months worth of casual experience was a beginner.

And Zeke held a glaring advantage, something Levi couldn’t so easily brush away. Levi’s own instinct, his own experience with odds had him considering raising. Just for a second. When Zeke was staring at him though, his own pile much bigger than Levi, Levi could only weigh between two decisions, fold and give up that hand or match Zeke’s bet.

It’s still a good hand anyway. “Call,” Levi said, matching Zeke’s bet.

By the way that Zeke was looking at him though, Levi knew he was probably not playing on the board properly. Zeke spoke up. “Tells. One important concept in both poker and business is tells,” he explained. “The way you carry yourself tells me you never played on the board. Am I correct?”

“Yes.” There was no use denying it but Levi didn't have to spare him a long answer.

Zeke dropped five purple chips on the table. “Raise to 2500.”

There was value in those chips, his lifestyle, his savings. And for a split second, he saw an abyss. He had spent too much on a flight ticket, a hotel room, just all the food he had been eating in that town. Then another year's worth of income on stake, reduced to chips.

By some strange instinct, by some adrenaline rush, Levi had managed to brush it away, reducing whatever stakes to the few chips on the board. And he was grateful for the power of delusion. By god, if he didn’t have at least a sliver of self-delusion, he could have folded right then.

“Call,” Levi said, once again matching Zeke’s bet. He needed to calm down. It wasn’t a loss yet, the game hadn’t even started.

There was hope in whatever cards Yelena was shuffling. She spread the first three on the table.

“We call that a flop,” Zeke said. “Just in case you didn’t know.” And of course Levi knew, he had played online long enough to pick up some terms. With the grin on Zeke’s face, a far cry from a face more appropriate for a game of poker, Levi was certain Zeke was provoking him. “I know what a flop is,” Levi said, running his eyes over the three cards.

Ace of clubs. Seven of Clubs. Eight of Hearts.

Levi started to calculate. He had 2500 dollars, a months worth of basic living expenses on the line. He wondered if it would have felt better just dropping the one hundred grand to Zeke from the start. There was something notably more painful and more terrifying about the possibility of watching his money whittle away slowly.

“During business meetings, I like to tell which topics, which specific products make my business partners uncomfortable, when dealing with stakeholders, with employees. I like to take a few quick guesses on the backgrounds of the people in front of me, to see whether they’re worth dealing with in the long term. ” Zeke explained. “How they handle pressure…”

Was that a threat? A challenge? Maybe it was. Levi was suddenly morbidly aware that he had licked his lips, that his hand shook as he took another peek at his cards.

He had a chance for a straight. But what would Zeke have? And Levi had made the mistake of looking at Zeke then.

“Another ‘tell’, your eyes widened just there. You have a pair? A potential straight? For someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, Hange does a much better time hiding than you do.” Zeke had deliberately put more emphasis on the word Hange.

If Levi hadn’t frozen solid, tensed up by the shoulders with Zeke’s almost accurate guess, the word Hange had done the trick to make Levi terribly, terribly self conscious. In an instinctive moment, Levi bent his head down, raised one hand in an attempt to cover his own eyes, only to realize a second later with his hand halfway to his eyes, that that had done worse to even show that he had something to hide.

“You don’t have to hide it. We all know already, you’re in love with Hange.”

Levi had accepted that part already. If he had been in complete denial at that moment, maybe he would have lost himself in Zeke’s accusing glare.

“Are you going to deny it?” Zeke dropped an alarming number of yellow and purple chips. “Raise to four thousand.”

Levi let out a sound, a combination between a no and a quiet huff and he matched Zeke’s bet.

“A month ago I heard from the staff in our summer house up north mentioning the man, who always followed closely behind Hange, the man who so willingly got a single bed hotel with her, the man in the train station who sat close to Hange Zoe,” Zeke said. “People talk, Levi. Did you consider that? And I thought to myself back then, maybe, it could have been a coincidence but Hange had her own tells as well. When Hange saved you from drowning, did you know she didn’t want to let go?”

Yelena put one more card down. Two of diamonds.

“This is a convenient turn card ,” Zeke commented. “If you have a nine, or a ten, you have a chance at a straight. Have you calculated?” He raised one eyebrow.

Levi didn’t answer. Hell, anything he did say could probably be taken against him.

“Hange would have. When we played, she would babble on about statistics. Everytime she held out a hand, completely beating me, she would babble all the calculations in her head. She has always been quick witted, intelligent, clever. That’s why I fell in love with her too.” He had said that part louder, more confidently and so matter-of-factly, and Levi was reminded he would never have that same confidence to say those words about Hange, even if he would have meant it.

There was a clack of poker chips. Four thousand dollars? Levi counted. He looked towards the pile next to Yelena. He had four thousand dollars there already. A total of eight thousand dollars on the table, months worth of rent for most.

From the expectant look on Zeke’s face, Levi was expecting he’d only go higher. Do I fold? But maybe with the excruciating mentions of Hange, that was something Zeke had wanted him to do. In a sliver of weak protest, Levi matched the bet, his own bet up to eight thousand dollars.

He needed a jack or a six for a straight. But why was Zeke easily dropping bets? Did he have something better?

“Let’s consider numbers in real life. Even with how you and Hange were acting, I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt. When the alarm rang, when you and Hange accepted it as truth, I realized my suspicions might be right. Hange might actually be attracted to you, she might actually love you. So what does that mean for me?” Zeke was once again playing with his chips.

Five thousand dollars worth? Levi thought loudly to himself as he counted the chips.

A bluff? Levi’s mind was racing. Zeke’s own words were deliberately or even just half heartedly disturbing. But there wasn’t much else he could do, four thousand dollars were on the line. Zeke proved to be confident at least with his own hand.

Bluffs happened, Levi played enough to be aware that people did put more than enough money than necessary just to scare people into folding. Another surge of protest later, Levi had matched the bet, putting his total bet at eleven grand.

The final card on the board was a jack and Levi didn’t have to look back at his own cards to confirm it. He had a straight. When Zeke had bet ten grand in chips, it had been much easier to call.

Soon the cards were revealed, an Ace and a King. Zeke had the strongest pair.

But Levi had a straight. He took the pot, more than a total of twenty thousand dollars, more than enough to offset his whole trip. When Levi looked up at Zeke, he regretted it almost instantly.

The latter didn’t seem at all affected by losing over twenty thousand dollars. “Circumstances, the most powerful tool but the easiest to control with the right resources. ” Zeke said, as if that had been the explanation for his own strange behavior. “It’s only natural when the person I’m married to starts running off with another man, I’d feel threatened. When she started working on the love alarm and I noticed she was happier, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. Then she was crankier than I’ve ever seen her before, then sadder. I wondered, what was our head developer doing to make Hange like that.”

Nothing. Fall in love with her? There weren’t too many things which could have fit what was starting to seem like a redundant question, so once again, silence was the best response.

Yelena spread the deck of cards over the table and Levi instead focused on dropping the new blind and appreciating the deft manner at which Yelena ran her hands over the cards.

He wasn’t in any state to be mesmerized by cards though.

Zeke’s voice echoed in the room. “Levi, I asked you a question.”

“What did I do, you mean?” Levi asked. That was the last thing he remembered and it had seemed almost redundant, not worth an explanation. Zeke shook his head. “Do you think she’s in love with you?” A strange question to ask someone, too personal. Zeke had a way of speaking that demanded answers.

Levi’s mind was working faster, vacillating between answering or not. He thought back to the ringing of the love alarm, Hange’s words up in the tower. Hange seemed happier, then crankier, then sadder, than I’ve ever seen before. “That’s for Hange to decide, right?” Levi said.

Zeke’s voice was suddenly softer as if they had released a sigh with his words. “Considering circumstances though, I was assured Hange can’t just leave.”

That last word had peaked Levi’s interest. “Leave?” He repeated.

“Even if your love alarm is correct, even if by some chance she loved you, and she didn’t love me, Hange can’t leave. I made sure of that. I’ve covered my bases.”

Covered your bases? Levi bent his head down, hiding that incredulous look that forced itself out of him.

“I paid for her research. I paid for the emotion alarm. I paid for the media embargo so your photos wouldn’t get printed. I paid for everything, our home, our trips. Hange can’t just leave, after I put so much into this relationship right?”

Yelena dealt a new set of his cards and Levi pulled his new cards towards him and took a peak.

Eight of hearts. Three of hearts. Shitty hand with a potential for a flush.

Zeke slipped the new cards towards him. “She’s not going to leave. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, why are you still hurting yourself over this. Why don’t you give up?”

“There’s nothing to give up. I wasn’t holding on to anything.” Those words had been surprisingly easy to say. “Hange married you. I went here to talk to her, nothing more than that.”

“You could have sent an email. You could have sent it through Erwin. Why come here yourself?” Zeke’s words were suddenly ringing through his ear.

“Why are you so bothered by me showing up? You didn’t have to invite me here,” Levi said, and somehow, a cathartic release that came with those words.

The shocked almost speechless expression on Zeke’s face, a far cry from the calm, poker face of a second ago, sent a rush of confidence over Levi

Maybe there were things he knew about Hange that Zeke didn’t. Levi continued “I don’t understand why you had to go through all this trouble, covering the embargo, sending Hange away, buying the emotion alarm. Even if you didn’t cover your bases, even if you give Hange all of that, she wouldn’t have left you. She really believes she’s in love with you.” She’s a prideful prick that way. He added silently to himself.

“What do you know about Hange? You only met her months ago.”

Long enough to feel like I’ve known her my whole life. If his words could have at least been enough to ensure some happiness for Hange in the future, it was worth a shot. “You should have just trusted her. You take in the most free-loving person I have ever met as your partner and you trap her by hanging all that over her head? That’s not how to love someone like Hange.”

“Who are you to tell me how to love the person I’m married to?”

This time, it was Levi’s turn to ask a question. “Do you love Hange?”

“More than you’re capable of understanding,” Zeke answered venomously, as if it was an attack on Levi.

Somehow, of all the things, an attack on his own ignorance didn’t feel like anything at all. Levi was confident, he wasn’t ignorant. “Hange really believes love is a choice, love is freedom. And you think the best way to love her is to tie her down with money and gifts? With circumstance?”

“You can’t assume that.”

“Then why do you have to make her feel guilty? Why do you give her everything just so she won’t leave? Why are you assuming she’ll leave the moment she gets the chance?”

One hand on the table, and the table rocked, the pile of chips Levi had meticulously organized fell in one crash, the few others as they slid amongst each other, colors mixing amongst one another.

Yelena was the first to speak. “Focus on the game, Ackerman.”

“Check.” He didn't have the best hand. As the river opened up to reveal a potential for a flush, he still thought it worth a shot.

Zeke pushed a huge pile of chips to the front. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.” Almost all of Levi’s available funds.”

“Fold,” Levi said.

The button switched. Levi and Zeke dealt their blinds again. Yelena dealt another two cards. And the game continued.

Carefully raising the corners of his pair, Levi noted a three of spades and a queen of hearts. Even before Yelena had dealt the river on the table, Zeke had already pushed his pile to the middle. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.”

Levi couldn’t win, and just like the hand before, he folded.

It continued with that same pattern for the next ten hands. Zeke started to bait him, going all in towards the fourth hand, enough for Levi to lose all his savings, and Levi would fold. Hands later, Levi had lost the winnings of the first hand, he had absorbed a net loss. Zeke’s large pile was starting to seem more ominous.

Circumstances. The word started to hold more gravity as Levi reflected the unfairness of it all. Zeke wouldn't have minded putting one year’s worth of Levi’s salary in a single round, he had more than enough to spare.

You can’t win against money. What the hell was he thinking, giving up his blinds every single time. Zeke obviously bluffed a few times. No one would be lucky enough to have a streak of good hands.

But which hand? Levi thought loudly to himself, as if by some miracle, a god-sent answer could echo in his head.

“We can do this all night,” Zeke said, his composure once again collected, the exchange of a while ago forgotten.

Levi lost track of the number of hands. A quick look at his chips only made him realize he had forty thousand dollars left. Did he lose that much by just folding?

He would lose a hundred dollars that night if he continued playing but when he willed it, he realized was ready to lose that money. But the more Zeke played, the more he spammed all ins, the more urgent the loss started to seem.

It took a few more handsfor Levi to gather the courage to play, even with the stakes completely against him. Levi spared some thought to calculation, taking from Zeke’s rulebook.

Tells.

Zeke wore a poker face...Nothing there.

Circumstances

He had to do something fast, or risk losing all his money.

Numbers

Most importantly, statistics were on his side. He had opened his new hand to find a pair of aces.

Ace of Clubs. Ace of Spades. Statistically, the best poker hand. He could easily win everything back.

Then came the first three cards.

Ace of Diamonds. Queen of Diamond. Nine of Clubs.

“Raise to ten thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

Three of a kind, with the strongest cards. “Call,” Levi responded.

The next card was dealt. Ten of diamonds.

“Bet twenty thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

“Call,” Levi said again, pushing his pile of chips to the middle of the world. He couldn’t be too sure how he looked then. Were his hands shaking? It wasn’t a graceful movement for sure. He had to push his pile to the middle with three clumsy movements while Zeke did it in one elegant push.

But Levi noted the subtle way at which Zeke raised his eyebrows before they met eyes. And for one second, Levi allowed himself a long stare, a slight movement of his lips, nothing close to a smile. If that one expression would be enough for Zeke to fold and give up everything, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t.

Yelena dropped the last card on the board. An Ace of hearts.

“Raise to one hundred thousand dollars,” Zeke said, notably louder than every other time before.

Enough to make Levi jump, enough for him to doubt. He snuck another look at his cards. Four of a kind. You’re fine. Why was his heart still beating wildly? Why was meeting Zeke’s eyes for a while longer such a harrowing experience?

It’s a poker face. People do this when they play poker. Levi told himself and the longer he was able to convince himself that Zeke knew what he was doing. And maybe it had always been good practice to stay calm, even when everything was stacked against you.

“Showdown,” Yelena said.

Or maybe Zeke just wasn't that connected, especially since nothing much was at stake for him.

It could have been all those guesses, or it could have been the ugly one that opened up in front of them right then and there.

And it looked like Zeke had figured it out first. “Have you heard of the term bad beat?”

Levi was taking longer than usual to make sense of the cards, much slower than usual and maybe it had been the exhaustion of calculating the past almost countless hands.

“There is roughly a four thousand to one chance of getting a four of a kind. But sometimes, people have something better than that… Not often but… It’s still worth considering.”

Something better. And when Levi was considering every hand better than a four of a kind, it became much easier to scan the river then Zeke’s hand for the answer.

Zeke had two cards: King of Diamonds and Jack of Diamonds. A Royal Flush.

“There’s a six hundred thousand to one chance of actually getting a royal flush. First one in my life.” Zeke could have been genuinely amazed, but that big ham reaction had been more than enough to piss Levi off.

It made it difficult to sit still.

“When you consider circumstances, you introspect, you strategize and you pray for a little luck,” Zeke said. “Believe me, you had every other chance to win before. I went all in with the worst cards and you folded every single time. Are you that terrified of losing a few thousand dollars?”

Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Levi corrected in his head. An annual salary’s worth. And maybe that was the point Zeke had wanted to make. By circumstances alone, Zeke had manipulated Levi's choice.

Zeke smirked. “Circumstances rely on luck too and luck is a funny thing. Even if you play everything correctly, you can still lose. Life’s unfair isn’t it.”

“You had less to lose than I did,” Levi said, his lip trembling. “That’s all there is to it. If you lost all the money, you would have put more in.”

“I would have,” Zeke admitted.

“I was playing a losing game.”

“At least you got the lesson. These are your circumstances. Every life lesson everyone should have learned from birth, life isn’t fair. I’m surprised you’re expecting that from a casual game.”

“I never said that. I knew I was playing a losing game and I expected that.” It had taken all his effort to keep his reaction unreadable, and god he wished he had managed it every other time before. “Thank you for the food. Thank you for the game. Thank you for covering for me and Hange.”

With the game over, it didn't look like he felt compelled to wipe that smug grin off his face. And there were things Levi wished he could tell Zeke, and maybe it was worth the risk. “One last thing, I don’t agree with you about relationships, businesses being like games. Loving isn’t a game. When you give all this money to Hange do you expect her to give back? You expect to be able to manipulate relationships through circumstance alone?"

“I told you Ackerman, don’t tell me how to love my partner.”

"I don't have enough fucks to give for every single person in this world. I’m not telling you how to love the person you married because I actually give a fuck about your love life. I’m only telling you how to love your partner because your partner just so happens to be Hange and Hange’s a free bird. She doesn't deserve at all to be loved like that. Don't cage her in with circumstances. Don’t tie her down with money, with a debt of gratitude.” He pushed his seat back and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.”

The sliding door wasn’t locked. He forced it open gently then too hard, enough to make it rattle, He gave one was long look at the infinity pool then leaned his arms on the balcony railings. He took a deep breath.

And that reprieve was just a little too short. It turned out Yelena followed behind him, a piece of paper in hand. “Zeke’s bank details,” she said.

That had seemed too abrupt. But really, what was he supposed to expect, a consolation prize? Hange’s location?

“It would be much easier if you paid immediately,” Yelena said. “Do you have the money on hand?”

He didn’t have the credit rating to pay that in one go. He opened his own banking application and attempted to transfer that much in one go.

Bank error.

“We accept checks,” Yelena said.

Levi had never dealt with checks. His credit card limit was far less than how much he needed to pay. And a few exchanges later, a quick google search later, Levi had figured it out. He could pay by wire transfer but by god, and just the wire transfer would cost him more money than necessary.

Levi was a man of principle though. Slip of paper on hand, Yelena’s contact details on his phone he made his way out of Zeke’s presidential, without even bothering so much as a goodbye. It looked like Zeke had retired to his own private room or study anyway. Did he need that pleasantry from Levi of all people?

On the way back to his own hotel, he took a long cut, through the hotels that connected to one another through glass pathways, a few floors above ground. He made sure to take a longer time than usual, enough time to reflect on his own shitty luck.

A fruitless reflection with a very very repetitive and depressing conclusion. That’s just how life is?

If it hadn't been for those two who had talked a little too loudly by the side, maybe Levi would have deemed it fruitless.

If didn’t look to his right to see the entrance to the casino, if he didn’t walk quickly past the slot machines, taking in the red plush carpet, he would have said it was a total waste of time. The dim room only further accentuated the lights that never seemed to come from an exact same place. The casino had a way of just letting some strange feverish state, some illusion blanket his surroundings.

Hange Zoe. The man at the front had said her name, too proudly, as if in total amazement. For a while, the dazzling casino lights had him doubting that name clipped into one brief exchange. Others seemed to be talking about her too. Then he was following the crowd.

Murmurs of Hange Zoe, none of them demeaning or admonishing. Others seemed breathless, and Levi thought it worth his time, to tiptoe just to see a good look of what they were staring at.

Fruitless.

Levi dove into the crowd, slipping his way through, bending over, moving his hand through when necessary. He never made it to the front, but he did note the messy mop of brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, bent over the table. The autumn jacket, the side profile and the glimmer of some tight lips.

Hange was deep in thought in the middle of what looked to be some poker game. Her own pile of poker chips right next to her, much larger than everyone elses. He knew her enough to make that type of guess.

Circumstances.

Levi decided it would be a waste of time. Circumstances were never his to control anyway. They were Zeke’s, they were hers.

Hange Zoe’s win again.

How many hands had she played before that?

She’s cheating.

No, she’s just lucky.

I heard she calculates every single hand.

Levi felt some sense of superiority, knowing something the murmuring crowds didn’t.

All summarized into three things. Firstly, lady luck was probably on her side, it had always been as if making up a string of misfortunes in a previous life. Secondly, she probably calculated every single hand. Third, Hange would never ever cheat.

And those would be last few thing he would allow himself be proud of. That would be the last time he would think of Hange as someone remotely his.

As Levi turned the heel and walked back to his hotel, he decided, although it wasn’t too fruitless a detour, he still regretted making that quick trip into the casino.

***

If Levi knew he would have felt like shit as soon as he came back from vacation, maybe he never would have gone on that stupid vacation in the first place.

Monday. Monday morning. Those words managed to taste bitter, even when Levi was barely forcing it out of his mouth. It could have been the fact that he barely had time to get over the jet lag or it was just way too early in the morning. Scratch that, it wasn't any of that at all.

Zeke was sitting on the couch, seeming very much unaffected by what should have been transoceanic jet lag and very much unaffected by the words that came out of Erwins house just a second ago.

At first, Levi even doubted what I heard, attributing it to exhaustion. He turned back to Zeke, no sadistic grin, no furrowed brows. He was calm, unimpressed and all business.

"Sorry… it's too early in the morning… I don't think I heard you correctly,” Levi said, an attempt at professionalism even with the trappings of shock, disbelief and very inconvenient drowsiness.

“We don’t usually invite lower management to these types of meetings… But Mr. Jaeger requested you be here, to answer any questions that might pop up...” Erwin said apologetically.

“No. Not that… You mentioned it a while ago...Why is Mr. Jaeger here?”

"We’re making amendments to the contract," Erwin answered.

“And why do you need me here?”

“He’s here to buy the love alarm,” Erwin said so casually that Levi had to clear his throat, get rid of whatever popping sensation had been going on in his ears.

My love alarm. The love alarm he worked more than half a decade on. The love alarm which he knew like the back of his hand, from the backbone of the codes to the front end bugs.

"It's for sale?" Levi spat out. There were only so many ways he could speak and so many ways he could even articulate the emotions running through his head.

Erwin cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable at such a simple question. "Initially no… we never considered selling it but when Zeke called about it last week, we thought it worth a conversation.” He turned to Zeke then back to Levi. “We were able to run through Zeke’s proposal with the higher ups last Friday, and given the generous proposal, we are more than willing to sell him the rights to the Love Alarm and the Emotions Alarm project.”

How much did he offer? Levi instinctively looked towards Zeke but he soon figured out that no matter what he said, Zeke probably would never disclose the final price. In some vague response, Zeke pulled the brown envelope on the table closer to himself. "Everything has a price,” he said matter-of-factly.

Erwin spoke up. "I did the calculations as soon as I received your call last Thursday and it looks like it would be more than enough to cover what potential earnings we expected within the next two years and more than enough for the development of another project.

Last Thursday night. The night they had met in Zeke’s penthouse suite. Was buying the love alarm an impulse decision on Zeke’s part? The timing just seemed too right.

And they only continued to talk about it, as if Levi wasn’t there. What did an engineer know about business though or about purchases as high volume as the rights to the love alarm?

For something that had taken countless all nighters over time and years of development, the process of selling it just seemed too easy. “Mr. Jaeger, if I may ask, what made you consider buying the love alarm?” Levi asked.

“Hange’s research,” Zeke said, as if it was the most obvious and the most noble reason in the world.

“And when you buy it, what then?” Levi challenged.

“I’ll work with Hange. We’ll hire new developers to fix the bugs you never fixed. We’ll further improve the product and the code and we’ll break the product down, see what else we can use to improve the emotions alarm project.” The answer was disappointing, a far cry from what Levi wanted to hear.

Your other plans with Hange. He had opened his mouth, ready to expound on the question.

Erwin though may have sensed the thick tension between them. "You have the contract?"

Zeke nodded. "I had our lawyer work on it over the weekend, a rush job. You can run through it with the higher ups and I'll have someone pick up a signed copy by this week"

"Believe me, we’re decided, you can even pick it up tomorrow," Erwin said as he opened the envelope, pulled out papers and flipped through the pages. For a second, he dropped the paperwork on the table then onto the page where the executives were expected to sign.

All familiar names from the big wigs all the way, down to Erwin. Levi's name wasn't there at all. Figures, Levi after all, was merely an engineer. He couldn't help but sense irony though in the fact that the one who knew the most about the product had no say in its actual fate.

Erwin's words only made the irony seem more glaring. “We'll use the next two weeks to do some clean up on our end, pack up the resources and work on data migration.”

By ‘we’, Levi knew Erwin would be ordering him to do that.. He couldn’t help but feel slightly cheated though. He would be basically ordered to take apart something he built from scratch, send it off and never see it again. And the longer he stared at the contract that would be ordering all that, the more desolate the air around him seemed to feel.

The product he had worked on for years, taking apart every now and then, breaking and putting back together to find even the smallest bugs, going on countless hours of overtime over, was like a child to him, a child he was unwillingly sending it away to some known.

Some masochistic part of him had him still staring at the contract, long enough still to remember his first contract when he first signed into the company, something that stayed snug into the back of his mind, unexpectedly kicking his arse then.

Ownership of Intellectual Property. Employee agrees that the Company shall own, and Employee shall (and hereby does) assign, all right, title and interest...

Everyone in the room seemed to have too much regard anyway for pleasantries anyway and never felt the need to clarify it. Levi had to rely on his own memory of Zeke saying it just a few days ago in his hotel room.

The company pays you. Any effort, ideas, projects you put into our product is company property.

And Zeke will be buying it so it will be his property.

Whether Zeke even knew how the alarm worked didn’t seem to matter to him though.“So, I guess in a matter two weeks, all server data and resources should be with Jaeger corporation.”

Erwin nodded. “We’d be happy to expedite the process. If all goes well, yes.”

When a huge sum of money was on the line, suddenly red tape was so easy to squeeze one’s way through. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay calm as they signed away the culmination of his own hard work, his countless hours of overtime, the blood, sweat and personal investment he put into that one application, all signed away in a brief second, all the red tape of a few weeks ago, non-existent.

Erwin turned to him, “If you can stay behind after the meeting, so we can discuss the logistics…”

Most days, Levi appreciated the manner at which Erwin spoke, the way he took some regard of Levi’s own time when giving orders. That day, there were too many things happening to even appreciate.

What else do you expect me to do? Say no? Hell, he had wanted to say no, but by the glaring lack of his own name on the contract, the glaring lack of regard for his own opinion on the matter, Levi could only seethe silently.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke snapped his fingers, loud enough to call Levi’s attention. “Hange sends her regards. She enjoyed working with your company a lot.” He turned to Levi and gave him a nod. “And to you too Ackerman, I just have to say we’re very grateful for your hard work and your generosity.”

What generosity? The implication that Levi had any say on commercial decisions seemed mocking.

“We’ll take good care of both applications,” Zeke continued. “And regards from Hange, she wishes you all the best with Petra.”

Petra. Levi let out a cough, letting out a subtle look at Erwin. If the latter did seem bothered, he didn’t show it.

With that, Zeke left the room, and Levi started to understand how someone could keep such a confident demeanor even with the slightest inconveniences. Somehow, having that many assets, wealth and power under one’s belt really had that paper.

The way he strode, embodied it, the way that in just a few phone calls, he had completely dismantled everything Levi had worked on, making it his own.

And when he closed the door gently behind him, leaving Levi and Erwin alone in the room, Levi was reminded once again, the love alarm, the emotion alarm, were never his, as much as he would have wanted to claim ownership.

They were never his, but suddenly they were Zeke’s. Levi turned to Erwin, narrowing his eyes, as he watched the blonde make his way to the desk. Erwin seemed uncomfortable as if he sensed the strange betrayal that something so standard as corporate procedure could bring. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up.

Two weeks. Levi was given two weeks to clean everything, migrate all data and vacate the office.

It was the company's project but it was Levi's responsibility. There was a broken partnership which somehow ended with two products sold. Yet even with all the damage dealt by that deal, the management needed some scapegoat from within the company.

Erwin had explained everything with as professional of a face as possible. With the tight lipped attempt at a grin that followed, the way he had avoided Levi’s eyes one too many times, Levi suspected Erwin knew more than he was letting on.

The photos maybe? The bug with Hange? The broken partnership? Of course someone would end up having to take the blame for giving Zeke a ‘bugged’ application.

Too many reasons, many among those rooted in some attempt to save face, in filthy office politics. And by then, Levi hadn’t been expecting too much.

That probably had been the reason that when Erwin looked back at him with a much softer expression, Levi couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, something to abate whatever emotion was threatening to let loose.

I didn’t think it was right for the mastermind behind the application to be terminated completely empty handed.

Erwin had arranged for some severance pay after the two weeks were over.

Enough to get out of the country, start somewhere else.

A job termination shouldn’t have been enough to be driven out of the country. Levi didn’t make too much sense of Erwin’s words until he had experienced it for himself a week later, through an empty email inbox after sending out the same resume to twenty companies for over thirty roles.

Have you heard of a no poach agreement? Erwin had asked back in the office.

A no poach agreement?

It’s technically illegal so this usually comes as a verbal agreement among companies. They’d note their best employees and if they have to let one go, all companies agree, they cannot hire them for a certain period of time, five to seven years. It's a 'scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' type of deal.

To keep company secrets apparently or to keep Levi from making a similar application in any other company.

If you want to continue working in the development industry, your best chance would be abroad.

Around one week left before his termination would become effective and Levi gave up on finding a development job in his city, hell even his country. Around that time he had started to clean up his studio apartment, throwing out whatever was needed.

He started looking through immigration laws, consulting when necessary. He looked through apartments in other cities, then labor laws. The severance pay was more than enough at least to get him out, and Erwin had been a big help in straightening other legalities out.

He had an extra few weeks to clean out his room, pack up his things, straighten out immigration issues and buy a damn ticket out of there.

In between, his final week at work. He had never considered leaving his job of over a decade to have ended such a long bittersweet moment. In reality, he never really had the time to appreciate normalcy and he felt some regret at that.

Migrating server data, resources, making sure everyone under him had straightened out their leaves, making sure they were assigned to new projects took time. Allowing himself reprieves in-between to just sit down, and stare at half filled boxes also took longer and more effort than he had expected it too.

He stared at the ever increasing boxes that lined his office walls for a while longer. Surprisingly, for someone so fastidious, he had a lot he needed to clean out, both inside the computer and outside.

You will lose all accesses, to emails, to chat accounts and to company property by end of day Friday. He got that same message, in different forms from human resources, from Erwin and Levi was on a strict time limit to get everything out.

In some protest, some act of empowering rebellion, Levi was taking his sweet time. He continued to reserve conference rooms, staying out of his own room as much as possible, going through each line of code slowly as if he they were all individuals all deserving of their own greeting.

He started with the backend, then went to the frontend. He looked through the pull requests and the merge requests and the fixes that would never make the next release.

And Friday couldn’t have come any faster. By then, Levi had ninety percent of his office space cleaned out. He entered the room to find his own team lugging out some of the boxes.

100 percent done then? Levi thought to himself.

Eld was the first one to speak up. “We thought you’d need some help. We heard you only had until five to vacate the room." Yet, he had the expression of a guilty child caught taking cookies from the cookie jar at midnight.

His whole team looked similar.

Levi shook his head. "No, this is much appreciated," he said. A stiff choice of words if he did say so himself but the last few hours of work weighed on him more heavily than the days leading up to it.

He only had two hours before he lost access to everything he had worked on for years.

He held his work laptop close to himself as he watched them lug box after box out of the room.

"Eld was suggesting we go get something to eat tonight," Gunther suggested.

"That depends…" Levi started. Definitely, whether he enjoyed it depended on how quickly he could brush off that weight then that tightening in his chest. "Have you talked to your new team leads? Your new managers?" he asked, an attempt at a light conversation. He wondered if his expression betrayed his words.

Maybe they did. "Or we could wait a few days," Eld said.

"We'll see. We have a few more hours before the end of day," Levi said. He slipped past them and walked back into his office.

Shelves empty, desk spotless and even the floor shone with some unsettling gleam. It had always been spotless, he made sure of it but there had always been something melancholic about rooms that had been full for years, suddenly empty.

And until a few weeks ago, the room had felt like Hange. He had deliberately left many of the crooked books on the shelf, the crooked documents, the titled reusable paper tray and the test devices messily lined up on the shelfs because Hange had left it that way.

And the whiteboard right next to his desk which Hange had failed to clean many weeks before was suddenly wiped clean. Levi didn't even noticed he let out a sound, a mix between a gasp and a whimper when he saw Hange's list of emails completely gone, erased over.

"You okay in there, boss?" Petra asked.

"Someone cleaned the whiteboard," Levi said.

"Oluo, I told you he'd point out your shitty job cleaning the board!" Petra said, from just outside.

Oluo responded. "Well, he's not going to be using it anymore so I though--- Ow!" Some silence followed, then approaching footsteps. "Sorry sir, I'll clean it again."

"No, it's fine," Levi said, he put his hand up, as if to stop Oluo from making that quick trek back to the white board. "I'll clean up the rest. Thanks for the help."

For once, he was grateful for someone's carelessness. The white board wasn't as clean as he thought it was a second ago and maybe because he would have rather it wasn't clean.

Hange wrote in crooked lines where ends hit one another, others fell and the fonts and sizes were never too similar from one line to the other. And the closer Levi came to the whiteboard, he noticed it, one email peeking out, spared by the shoddy erasing job.

Wingsoffreedom132

Hange had multiple emails she used for testing and when Levi opened his work laptop one last time, enjoying the last few hours of access as he cleaned up folders and code repositories, he found himself looking back at the email.

Does she still use it? He asked himself

Maybe. It was worth a try at least.

He looked once again around the room, the very empty room. Then he looked back at his screen, opened the repositories that were ready to be sent out to the point person from Jaeger corporation.

Then he opened his own personal folder, the unfinished codes from the love alarm then the mood alarm then the plans, the files and on the upper left of the file 'the Mood Alarm.'

To hell, with red tape, bureaucracy and all that shit. It was his project, right at his fingertips. It wasn’t Zeke’s nor was it management. The only reason they probably hadn’t sacked him on the spot was because he was the only one who could have so efficiently organized it before they sent it off to some poor sap who worked under Jaeger corporation.

He allowed himself one rebellion, or more specifically a string of rebellions.

If he were forced by some bureaucracy to send all the resources of the love alarm and the mood alarm to Hange, he would do it on his own terms.

He disconnected from the office wifi. He opened a hotspot then he opened his own personal email. Opening an incognito tab, he transferred all the codes and resources to his own personal repository, organizing it in a similar manner.

Then copied the link and started to compose an email.

To: [email protected]

All the codes for the love alarm

He pasted the link right below.

All codes for mood alarm.

And below it, he pasted another link.

He waited for a few more seconds as the email loaded the attachment, the file with all the plans he had for the mood alarm, allowing himself a small smile as he imagined Hange pondering the name 'mood alarm.'

He vacillated between writing a message under and keeping it brief. Then a second later, his fingers moved for him, he didn't even realize what he had been writing until it was on the page, ending on a period for finality.

“Dedicate your heart.” He read it out loud, then he felt a pang on his chest and a twist at his gut.

Dedicate your heart to what? He didn't want Hange dedicating her heart to anything. He wanted her free, flying high, doing whatever the hell she wanted to, bound by no role, no debt of gratitude, no excuse for love.

Reach for the sky? Hell, she could probably even make it to the stars.

So he went for something that left him cringing.

Reach for the stars (or anything higher than that).

Then he added something, collateral from that rush of indignance.

Don’t let anything stop you. Just remember, I would have given you all these damn codes for free.

After sending the email, he took a few precautions. He cleared his history, his cache, his browser and he deleted the rest of the files in his laptop. With one hour before the end of day, he turned off the laptop.

“Do you need any more help?” Petra had entered the room, hands behind her back in some very faux casual manner. And she seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Levi used that moment to wipe that last line of Hange’s email, as if that could have been evidence to that bout of rebellion. “I’m done. Let’s leave the rest to whoever will be cleaning up the desk.”

Petra didn’t seem at all suspicious, or maybe she didn’t care. “That’s good. WIll you be joining us for dinner?”

Levi nodded. “Maybe my leaving is worth a dinner.”

“You’re really leaving?”

“Looks like it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I bought a plane ticket, secured a visa. I'll go somewhere, far from here, then find a job or maybe work freelance.

“I want you to stay here.”

“I wanna stay here too,” Levi admitted. “But I couldn’t even find a job.”

“I’ll miss having you here… And working with that love alarm. I really believed in the product and it made me realize my own feelings too,” Petra leaned by the window, looking worse for wear.

When Levi gave a long look, he noted maybe she had been crying. He almost felt guilty for not even struggling to fight back tears then.

Maybe his body had already reached the point of pure catatonic, pure acceptance at the hopelessness of the situation. “I’m sorry.” What was he saying sorry for? “I mean— I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Petra took a deep breath. “This is probably the only time I can say something so I’ll say it now and you know, if you believe in your love alarm, you probably figured it out already,” Petra started. “I like you, I really like you. Actually you know what, it might be love. I don’t know if that would change anything—”

“It won’t.” Levi kept his voice firm. “I bought the ticket. I organized my papers and I have a place to stay. I’m leaving.”

“For good?” Petra had on a wounded look, her mouth twisted into something similar to a pout, by her eyes were elsewhere as if she knew there was a little too much vulnerability in her voice. “So, whatever I feel, it won’t change anything?”

Levi shook his head. “I don’t think it would be fair to you if I accept your feelings. I’m in no hurry to date.” He let out a clipped sardonic laugh. “At this point, I’ll probably die alone.”

“You deserve—”

“And you deserve someone who wouldn’t decide to date you for convenience.” Maybe Levi had been a little too frank at that moment.

Petra didn’t respond, her mouth frozen in a tight lipped line.

“The love alarm will be back so maybe you can use that to find someone else whose alarm rings with yours,” Levi continued, his voice deliberately gentler. “Or what about growing something organically, without the help of that stupid app. I honestly think, sometimes the love alarm causes more chaos than actually fixes things.” He shrugged. “It depends on the circumstances really.”

Circumstances he probably would never understand. He turned back to the black screen and reflected for a long painful moment about it. He was a slave to circumstance.

They were silent for a while longer and Levi used that time to recover, willing himself not to meet Petra's eyes.

She broke the silence a few seconds later. “We’ll meet you by the gate for dinner?”

“I’ll see you then, just give me an hour or so,” Levi said, checking the clock on his phone. He had a little more than an hour left before EOD. “Or just text me when you find a restaurant.”

It took a little longer to convince Petra to leave and it had ended with them having to text Levi a familiar restaurant name.

Levi had taken his time doing nothing at all, just sitting on his office chair in his bare office room. He counted down the minutes on his phone until five. A few times he had even stared at the seconds counting down on the digital clock view on his phone.

Around a minute past five. He booted his laptop again, typed out his email and password.

Access Denied. Please contact your IT Administrator.

At exactly five in the afternoon, he lost access to the system. He took a deep breath and let reality weigh him slowly, then sink deep into him in one swift sensation.

The love alarm and the mood alarm were never his. Any delusion that they were his had dissipated with all the company accesses.

***

In an airport, the point past immigration is international space.

Maybe that explained that strange liberation that came with getting past immigration and walking through the gates, searching for his own. Or it could have been many things at once. He was out of his old job, out of his old environment and somehow, in its own way, it symbolized a new beginning.

Even as an international space though, some things weren’t completely unavoidable. Settling on the departure gate, Levi went through some final checklists on his phone.

He had a new bank account. He had a place to stay as soon as he landed.

And his inbox was a confluence of unread mail. Many of them were goodbyes, from colleagues, some from finance, from human resources, from his own team and he wondered how the hell people found out and what they were thinking about his leaving.

Erwin sent a few tips on taxes and getting housing loans. Petra had sent a ‘safe flight’ message with the same pleasantries of meeting up when she gets to visit.

There was one message was avoiding and he decided to open it last. He spent the first few minutes before that spamming the same thank you message to every single goodbye message.

That one other message after all, was easy to ignore, just a bank notification that money had been wire transferred.

One hundred thousand dollars, the exact money he had lost and sent over to Yelena, he realized as he opened the message and put a little more thought into it.

You have two weeks to claim it. Two weeks? The countdown started a week ago and he only had a week to claim it.

Actually, not even a week. Looking up at the boarding time, he realized he only had an hour. He could probably organize something to have it sent over to his new account. Considering timing and the logistics though was stressful enough already. And besides, his mind found it more enticing to just indulge the context behind such a large sum of money.

It could have been a scam. The amount of money though had seemed too much of a coincidence and admittedly, Levi was a still lovesick.

Don’t send me money. Just fucking talk to me. Levi whispered to himself. Just in case, just in case that was Hange.

In some indignant response, he decided to delete the message and instead, spend last few hours going through some obscure threads on the industry. Something he had been actively avoiding.

Business Jaeger Zeke Jaeger acquires the love alarm… The mogul had found a fatal bug on the love alarm…

In a noble effort to improve the efficacy and accuracy of the product, he took it upon himself to oversee development….

Head developer behind the love alarm has been terminated....

Unnamed developer. He had at least been given that much. Levi let out a sigh. For a high profile application, no one really figured out the name of the head developer. It was a thankless job but Levi never thought too much about the glory of it.

And at that moment, he could only be grateful for the anonymity, whether or not Zeke had done it deliberately.

Plane ready for boarding.

They would be starting with first class passengers first and Levi knew he had more than enough time to take a trip, to the farthest trash can, yet still something near enough to catch the flight.

He unzipped the front pocket of his backpack, pulling out a small sim card pin. He poked it, pulling out the tray, noting the bronze sheen of the sim card. It had taken him a few tries to hold the small card between his fingers and a few more tries to bend it between his fingers, bend it to the point of unusable.

He pocketed his phone and quickly made his way back to the boarding gate.

No bank account. No phone number. He wondered why he went through that much of an effort to destroy everything.

Maybe just for an attempt for a new beginning. Or maybe because he didn’t want her to find him.

The more he thought about it though, the sooner he realized he wanted her to find him. He just thought it better to assume that she wouldn’t even try.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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padfootagain · 4 years ago

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I can't believe there are so many of you now!! Thank you all so much for your support!!

I hit that milestone a couple of months ago but my mental health has been chaotic these past few months and depression has really been hard on me, so I couldn't celebrate when I hit the milestone.

I'm feeling a little better now though, and I reckon it's time to thank you all in a proper manner!

This event also has as a purpose to help me ease my way back into writing after such a hard time for me, so please, be kind to me if it takes me a while to post your request or if I don't answer all the prompts sent my way. I'm doing my best :)

That being said, let's get to the actual event… a prompt list!!

Carole, what are you talking about?

Under the cut, you'll find a list of prompts. You can request up to 3 prompts in the list with a character or ship I write for of your choice and I will write a little drabble/ short one-shot using the prompts you've chosen for the character you want!

A few rules if you want to send in a request!

-Please, send in your request through my askbox, it's easier for me to keep track that way rather than to track down pms.

-You can send a request on or off anon, so if you're shy, don't worry, and just switch to anon :)

-You can send in a request for any character or ship on my masterlist except for Billy Russo and Regulus Black.

-You can choose between 1 and 3 prompts for your request from the list below the cut.

-A little politeness goes a long way, so please, say hello when you make your request :)

-I will be keeping the unanswered requests in my askbox, so if you want to make sure I've received your request, you can ask me in another ask or via pm and I'll tell you if I've received your request or not (after all… we all know how troubled tumblr can be).

When will the event take place?

Depending on the number of requests I receive, I might change the date for closing the event, but the plan is for the requests for this event to be open from today up to Friday, which means from April 20 to April 23 2021.

I will then answer the requests in the coming weeks.

I hope all of you enjoy the event, and that many of you will participate! Thank you again for your support, and I wish all of you a lovely day/evening!! :D

Prompt list!!

1. "You little shit…"

2. "Don't worry, it's just a scratch… OUCH!"

3. "You're stealing all the blanket!"

4. "Now… drop that…. Or else…"

5. "You're so annoying. How did I fall in love with you in the first place?"

6. "So… are we gonna address the fact that you've just snogged me or…?"

7. "What do you mean you don't like me? We're MARRIED!"

8. "If you don't stop this, I will slit your throat."

9. "You're kinda hot when you're mad, not gonna lie…"

10. "You're driving me crazy. But I love it."

11. "Maybe I… kinda like you. A lot."

12. "You've got something on your cheek… right… hang on, let me…"

13. "All I want tonight is to get in bed with you, cuddle you, and fall asleep while we're watching some stupid Netflix show and you're holding me close."

14. "You're such a softie, you know that?"

15. "I can't help it! You're so warm, how can I not hold you all the time?"

16. "So… Uhm… that was a… a hell of a kiss…"

17. "Ghosts aren't real, it's just the wind. Wait… what was that?"

18. "We shouldn't have watched that scary show. Now, I'm forced to stay against you cause I'm scared. No, it is not an excuse for sex so get your filthy mind out of the gutter."

19. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you, you know? It just so happens that I like you enough to make my world revolve around you, that's all."

20. "I… Is he/she your boyfriend/girlfriend?"

21. "I… There's something I need to tell you. I should have done so a long time ago."

22. "You're so stupid. I love you."

23. "I have many regrets. Not telling you this is the biggest of them all."

24. "I just thought… we could… maybe… be more than friends?"

25. "I like you… Maybe… maybe I even love you… a little bit…"

26. "I'm the luckiest though. I have you."

27. "I'd share anything with you, and you know that. Except my cookies. Cookies are off limit."

28. "I love you more than anything in this world."

29. "I'm not staring! Just… enjoying the view…"

30. "Waking up next to you every morning is my favourite thing in the world."

31. "You… you've made me breakfast?"

32. "Are you jealous?"

33. "So… that's your ex, huh?"

34. "Don't leave me. Please, not now, not ever. I love you too much for that."

35. "Well, maybe the night itself isn't perfect, but to me it is as close as it will ever be. I have you, after all."

36. "I've missed you so much!"

37. "Hold my hand."

38. "Kissy, please?"

39. "I'm pregnant."

40. "I want to marry you."

41. "You're so romantic, such a big softie!"

42. "Close your eyes, I've got a surprise for you."

43. "Wait… are these plane tickets?"

44. "Where are you going?"

45. "You're gross. You're lucky I love you."

46. "Oh dear, you're such a moron. Kiss me."

47. "Is that my shirt you're wearing?"

48. "Happy Anniversary, my love."

49. "You've done all this… for me?"

50. "I don't know what I'd do without you…"

51. "Amazing teamwork over there!"

52. "I don't care what others say, I love you, it's all that matters to me."

53. "Let me take care of you."

54. "I'll love you so well, if you let me."

55. "I've dreamt of you last night."

56. "I'm planning our trip, that's what I'm doing!"

57. "I'm excited to spend the rest of my life with you."

58. "Is it really a good idea?"

59. "Yeah… alright, I'm jealous. What about it? Can't I be jealous if I want to?"

60. "Look… this… us… it could never work. Could it?"

61. "I hate being away from you."

62. "Things will be better, you'll see."

63. "I'll always be here for you."

64. "Thank you, for being here. For always being here."

65. "This hiding spot… it's really… small…"

66. "This is too dangerous!"

67. "Be careful."

68. "Hey, don't cry. I'm here."

69. "I can't help it. I'm sorry. I love you, and there's nothing I can do about it."

70. "When I make a wish, it's always the same. I always wish for you."

#5k celebration #5k #event #writing prompt #prompts #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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ificanthaveu · 5 years ago

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Open Door Policy || Shawn Mendes

Description: You and Shawn Mendes have always been best friends, neighbors and cowriters until you start feeling something more. But how do you tell the guy you write love songs with that you think you love him?

A/N: OK this is another one of those fics that came from a day dream and spun together really quickly. I honestly don’t have much to say and I feel like I usually do but I hope you love it :)

Word Count: 4.5k

As time ticked by so did your patience.

It was nearly 11:00 pm on a Friday, and the last place you wanted to be was in the studio with an up and coming singer-songwriter who thought he was a lot better than he actually was.

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair, watching Hayden scribble something down from the other side of the glass before looking up at you and motioning for you to turn on your mic.

“I got something,” he said with a big grin.

That phrase usually meant you had at least another hour of work to do.

“Shoot,” you said as you grabbed your notebook, prepared to fix the line however you could.

He pointed at his notebook with his pen before saying, “we’re meant to be, but we haven’t figured that part out yet.”

You cocked your head to the side and nodded, the line showing that maybe he was making progress.

“It’s supposed to be you and me, we haven’t figured this out, but I know somehow we’re meant to be?” You said with questioning in your tone as you switched words around to make it rhyme and flow.

“I like that,” Hayden said, jotting down the line again and erasing other things.

“Um, not to rush you, bud, but how much longer are you thinking of working?” You said carefully.

He glanced at his phone propped up next to him.

“Maybe just fifteen minutes? Finish the chorus, and we can finish it and record it next time I see you?” He asked.

You nodded your head as you took note of that.

“Next Tuesday still work?” You asked.

“Perfect,” he said as he hung his headphones up to sit next to you and finish the chorus. It just needed a line or two, or the start of a line or two, and then you could just go home.

“Alright, well, dig into that line you just said,” you started as you turned towards him as he pulled up his chair. “How do you know, but still don’t know?”

He sighed and leaned back, looking at the ceiling and turning his chair in circles slowly.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.

You tried not to sigh and hang your head, knowing his one line wasn’t going to carry through to a whole chorus.

“I’m just thinking of, like, two friends. And they’ve been friends for a while and there’s this looming feeling that they’re going to end up together, but they just don’t know when or how, and honestly, have kind of been avoiding that feeling without even realizing they’re doing it,” he tried to explain.

“So, everyone knows, no one wants to say it?” You offered.

“Exactly,” he said as he rested his elbows on the table.

You looked through some lines you had written before, trying to see how you could alter them and fit them into the song to convey what he just told you.

“Stuck between something we can’t see…” you trailed off, writing it down in your notebook. “What if we never know what this is really about?”

Silence floated between the two of you as you both wrote them down.

“Man, I was thinking of going towards a happier ending with his, but I like where you’re going,” he said as he closed his notebook.

You shrugged your shoulders, following suit as you put your notebook in your bag along with a few of your other things scattered in front of you.

“Guess that’s just the feelings that want to come out of me right now,” you said with a soft smile.

Hayden looked at you for a moment before standing up.

“I’m not giving up on that happy ending of the song,” he said as he walked to the door, he leaned against the doorway for a moment before continuing. “And neither should you.”

Once he left, you leaned your head against the edge of the chair. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but he was always really good at reading you. Which is why you worked well together. And why you were the cowriter on most of his songs.

You finally picked yourself up and gathered your things before locking up the studio. Once you got in your car, you glanced down at your phone for the first time in the past few hours.

5:12 - Shawn: When do you get home? Pizza night?

6:36 - Shawn: Maybe Chinese?

7:04 - Shawn: You know, at this point I might just eat cardboard.

** Missed call - Shawn Mendes - 8:47**

8:48 - Shawn: [Y/N], I’m starving.

9:15 - Shawn: Ok, so I ordered pizza and ate, like, half of it. But stop over once you get home and eat the rest, please.

9:57 - Shawn: I know you don’t like that Hayden guy…is it because he’s been planning to kill you? Are you DEAD?

10:51 - Shawn: FINE, this is my last text, but actually please call me on your way home, so the pizza can be heated up and ready for you :)

You smiled down at the multiple messages before shaking your head and wiping it off your face. You pressed on his contact and put him on speakerphone before pulling out.

“Thank God. You’re not dead,” he answered.

“What do you expect when I’m with Hayden? We never finish anything in a timely manner,” you said through a laugh.

“You finish things in a timely manner. He does not,” Shawn reminded you.

You heard him rustling around as you assumed he was getting the pizza.

“I got pepperoni by the way, and my door is unlocked,” he said.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said as you made the final turn into your apartment complex. “I just pulled in. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“See ya,” he said before hanging up.

You gathered your things and locked your car before heading into the building. You stopped by the front desk to grab a package that was delivered before taking the elevator to the top floor.

There were only four apartments on the top floor. One of them was owned by you. Two were being taken up by rich couples who traveled for a living and were never really there. And the last one was Shawn.

You’d met him through James when you started writing with him when he was on tour with Shawn at the beginning of their careers. You were young and inexperienced, as was James, so you made a good duo. You had no idea Shawn lived in the apartment across from you until after you started moving your things in almost a year after you first met. Shawn kept an eye on your apartment when you were gone, and you did the same for him. But if you asked anyone, it was more like the two of you lived together with how often you’d just walk across the hall into the other’s place.

The elevator dinged, and you made your way to Shawn’s door. You opened the door, and Shawn peaked his head past the wall to see you.

“There you are!” He said with a big smile.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. Alive,” you said as you set your phone on the counter. “Lemme run this stuff over.”

You crossed the hall, not bothering to close Shawn’s door before you opened your own, also not bothering to close it, and set your package just beyond the door before going to your room to change.

You heard Shawn’s footsteps outside your bedroom before he said, “Do you want a Coke with your pizza?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask that,” you said through a sigh as you opened your door, this time in sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It’s almost midnight.”

“You can’t have pizza without Coke,” you reminded him.

“Alright, fine,” he said as you followed him back to his kitchen, closing both doors behind you.

Shawn had your pizza set out for you with a glass of Coke next to it. He sat down across from you as you took your first bite.

“Write anything good today?” He asked, sipping at his water.

You nodded your head and swallowed. “Yeah, he actually came up with some pretty good lines today. I don’t know if it’ll be a single, but it’ll make the album.”

“What’s it about?”

“Being friends with someone, and kind of knowing you’re going to end up with them, but not really knowing when or how or how to even convey those feelings,” you said slowly.

“Sounds complicated,” he said.

“You bet,” you mumbled before taking a sip.

“Have you ever felt that?” Shawn asked.

“Felt what?”

“You just described it,” he said with a small smile.

You returned the smile and took another sip.

“Yeah, but I need you to explain it another way, so I can use it for the final verse.”

“Do I get a writing credit?”

“That’s up to Hayden, so probably not.”

He laughed as he leaned his elbows on the table and cocked his head to the side.

“The questioning,” he started before pausing and looking out the window behind you. “Like you’re with this person and one moment, you think, this is it. This person is the one you’re going to spend forever with. And then the next…” he trails off. “You’re doubting everything you’ve ever known about them. About love. About the two of you. And you don’t want to screw it up. Because you’d rather ignore the love you feel than screw up this beautiful thing you already have.”

You stayed quiet as he described it. You didn’t notice you hadn’t responded until your eyes met his, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I get it. It’s complicated.”

“Exactly,” he said just as quietly.

It went quiet again as you finished your slice of pizza.

“Did I just give you your last verse?” He said through a smile.

You shrugged as you grabbed your notebook from your bag and scribbled down a few of the words and phrases he used: questioning, moments, doubt, beautiful thing, screw it up.

“We’ll see. Hayden wants a happy ending, but with where we are now, I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” you said as you looked Shawn in the eyes.

“Never know,” he responded.

“That’s what he said.”

“I think he’s smarter than we give him credit for.”

Shawn took your plate from you and put it in the dishwasher as you kept sipping at your drink and adding notes to the words you just added.

“So…I know you’ve been writing all day, but-“ Shawn started before you cut him off by holding your hand up.

“No ‘but’s. It’s almost midnight,” you said.

“[Y/N], I already owe you my life and my firstborn child. Please, for the life of me, just look at the verse I’ve written so far,” he begged.

You groaned as you rested your head on the counter in front of you.

“Do I get a writing credit?” You mumbled.

“You have a writing credit on half the songs on my new album,” he said as you lifted your head up. “And you’ll have it on this one, too. Like always.”

“You’re too nice to me, Mendes,” you said as you stood up and walked towards his piano in his makeshift studio.

Shawn sat down at the piano, and you leaned on the side of it.

He started playing softly and humming along to the song inside his head. You got lost in how his hands moved across the piano and how his body moved when he pressed down on a pedal, watching the expression on his face as he sang.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

You hadn’t even registered anything he just sang.

“Um,” you said softly as you sat down next to him to look at the lyrics jotted down on his notebook and quickly read over them. “Well, I like the music.”

“That was the most backhanded compliment you’ve ever given me,” he said through a laugh. “Do you like any of the lyrics?”

“Don’t say, ‘I’m falling in love,’” you said as you took the pencil out of his hand and crossed out the line. “There are so many better ways to say that and falling in love is a made-up term by The Bachelor.”

“It is not made up,” he defended. “You’ve never felt that feeling? That feeling of knowing you’re going to be in love with someone, but not quite there yet?” He asked.

You shrugged as you looked down at the keys your hands were laid on.

“I just think there are better ways of saying you’re falling for someone,” you said quietly.

“Enlighten me,” he said as he turned to look at you, leaning his elbow on top of the piano.

“Feeling something I’ve never felt before, the start of something worthwhile, the beginning of what could be,” you rattled off.

“None of those fit in the other lyrics,” he said. “And I write what I feel, and this is what I’m feeling right now.”

“You’re falling in love? How are you so sure?” You asked, not even wanting to know who it could be.

He shrugged as he tore his eyes away from you to play the notes again.

“You just know,” he whispered before looking at you. “And that’s how I know you’ve never felt it.”

Your hands slammed down on the keys as you let them loosen up.

“I had a boyfriend for over a year before I came out here,” you reminded him. “And I loved him.”

“But were you in love with him?” He asked.

“There is no difference.”

“There is definitely a difference.”

“Well, then I guess I don’t know it,” you said a little louder than expected. “Happy?”

Shawn didn’t say anything as he stared down at his hands. You ran your hands down your face before staring at the lyrics jotted across his notebooks and your harsh line drawn through them. It was safe to say that you weren’t feeling the love songs.

“I’m sorry,” you said, still not looking at him. “I just haven’t really been in the right headspace to write happy love songs.”

“Why?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s always complicated.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the room again as you both sat facing the piano, your legs almost brushing up against each other.

“I should go to bed,” you whispered.

“Yeah, yeah, me too,” he said back.

Neither of you moved, still staring at the piano or the notebook or the wall behind both.

“I have a question,” Shawn whispered.

You didn’t respond and instead turned to look at him.

He cracked a smile as he looked at you and said, “How do you write the best love songs I’ve ever heard when you’ve never experienced being in love?”

“Talent and a romcom obsession,” you said with a smile.

Shawn laughed and leaned his head back for a moment.

“Well, you got me there.”

You both stood up at the same time, and Shawn followed you out of the room. You grabbed your phone and bag off the counter before making your way to the door.

“I’ll see you later,” you said with a smile before Shawn nodded at you and you left.

Shawn sighed and hung his head back as he nearly punched the wall in front of him. But instead of having to explain that to your building manager again, he went back to his studio, playing the same notes over and over again, not getting what you said out of his head.

Meanwhile, you willed yourself not to cry as you climbed into your bed and pulled your covers up over your head. You sighed and laid on your back, staring at your ceiling.

You couldn’t blame Shawn for anything. He loved everything he encountered.

You just couldn’t do it as easily as him, which is something he couldn’t really wrap his head around.

Because how were you supposed to write love songs about the guy who was writing them about someone else?

You could hear his piano still playing softly. Your phone lit up before you could text him.

Shawn: You were right. “The beginning of what could be” sounds way better.

You smiled softly before quickly typing back.

[Y/N]: Go to bed, rockstar.

—

You heard rustling just moments before a pillow hit you in the head. You groaned and rolled over, burying your head underneath the covers.

“Get up,” Shawn said as he kept hitting you.

“No,” you mumbled as you glanced at your watch. “We didn’t go to bed until nearly 1:00 am, and you’re waking me up at 8:00? What have I ever done to you?”

“You said you’d work out with me this morning,” he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice as you turned to look at him.

“I thought you meant around 11:00.”

“That is not the morning.”

“It most certainly is.”

“Please, I’m hanging out with Brian and Connor at noon, and you promised me,” he begged.

“I have never broken a promise with you,” you started.

“Exactly.”

“...and now’s the perfect time to start,” you finished, turning over again.

“What? No,” he said, yanking your covers off you and off the bed completely.

This made you shoot up and glare at him.

“Are you going to be the one to make my bed now?” You asked.

“No, now get dressed. Let’s go,” he said as he walked out of your room.

Ten minutes later, and you were walking out of the building for a run with Shawn, still cursing him that you were up this early on a Saturday. But once your music started playing and you started running, you weren’t threatening his death any longer.

You followed closely to Shawn as he lead the way through your usual route to a park down the street. The plan was to run there, hike and then run back.

You made it to the park and slowed to a walk as you followed a path that Shawn picked.

“Any chance you’re available to head to the studio at some point this week?” Shawn asked with a pleading smile.

You rolled your eyes at him before you answered, “I’m pretty booked, so it depends. I think Thursday morning is the only thing I can do unless you want to do it at midnight.”

“I can make Thursday morning work,” he said, dodging a branch. “I’m going to need help finishing that song then because you were definitely right.”

“I always am,” you said with a smile as he bumped his shoulder into you.

“Also, I’m sorry about last night. I went too far with the love thing,” he said quietly.

You nodded your head, not wanting to look at him.

“It’s fine. I guess no one’s ever really asked about it. I just wasn’t prepared,” you paused. “And you know I’m not as good at saying things as I am as turning them into a song.”

“You and me both,” he replied. “How come you don’t write a song about it then?”

“About never being in love?”

“Yeah, it’s real feelings. It’s what you’re feeling right now. And maybe for once, you could keep it for yourself,” he said.

“I don’t sing. I write,” you reminded him.

“You can definitely sing.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to do it in front of people.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just saying it could help to write about it since you don’t want to talk about it. I know how you are,” he reminded you. “I know this would be a lot easier than talking about it. Even if you just trash the song after, and it never sees the light of day.”

“Maybe I will,” you said with a nod.

“I won’t be home until late tonight, so the piano is all yours,” he tempted.

“You really know how to get me,” you said with a laugh.

“Better than you’ll ever realize.”

—

You heard Shawn’s apartment door slam as he left to go see Brian and Connor. You took that as your cue to grab your notebook and laptop and head over to Shawn’s apartment.

The door was unlocked as usual, and you grabbed water from his fridge before going to his little studio. You set your things down on top of the piano before making yourself comfortable.

You didn’t even know where to start. You weren’t used to writing something like this. You didn’t even know what things you said in songs about not being in love.

You pressed a few keys, trying out a melody you had come up with a few days before. You hummed slowly to it, writing down words that came to mind.

“But maybe I’m wrong,” you sang quietly. “Maybe it’s been in front of me all along.”

You wrote it down before sitting back again.

“Maybe my front door has always been open, maybe you’ve always walked through, maybe it’s always been you,” you sang louder.

“I’ve never felt like this,” you paused. “But with you, I wouldn’t mind.”

You wrote it all down quickly as it flowed out of you, taking Shawn’s idea and mixing it with how you’ve been feeling about him lately.

You tapped your pencil along your notebook as you thought of the next verse, getting lost in what time it even was as you finally felt like you were being honest about what you were feeling.

—

He heard it before anything else. As the door cracked open, the soft noise of the piano and the hum of your voice came rushing out of the room as if it had to get out. As if it had to be anywhere but with you. As if it was looking for Shawn and trying to pull him in.

Shawn didn’t make a noise as he walked into his apartment and made his way to the studio to see you still sitting at the piano, putting your whole body into the keys of the piano and into the words you were singing.

He almost spoke up until he listened.

Your voice sounded so delicate yet powerful as you maneuvered into the chorus of the song, singing about feeling things you’d never felt before. The subtle references to a neighbor and unlocked doors didn’t make it past Shawn. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he didn’t know whether to walk out and act like he hadn’t heard it or just sit down next to you.

Before he could make the decision, you made it for him as you turned to grab your water but froze when you saw him standing there. You could see his pink-tinted cheeks from a mile away.

“Shawn,” you said softly, feeling your heart beat out of your chest, stuck between hoping he’d heard it and hoping he didn’t.

“Hey,” he said back just as soft.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the room as Shawn finally moved to the piano bench to sit next to you, your legs pressed against one another as both of you tried to calm your breathing.

“It’s a beautiful song,” Shawn finally said, letting his hands land on the keys and looking up at your notebook with scribbles and lyrics.

“Thanks,” you choked out.

“Sounded like you were really saying what you felt,” he paused. “What you truly felt?” He said in a questioning tone as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Uh,” you paused, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this one. “Yeah,” you said through an exhale of breath.

Shawn played the notes you had written out, the only noise being the music he was playing.

The music you had just written about him.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You said that already.”

Silence filled the room again as Shawn stopped playing.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said quickly after. “You really don’t.”

“But I want to,” he said slowly as he turned to look at you.

“What do you want to say?” You asked.

“What’s this song about?” He asked in return.

You went silent, turning away from him and back to staring at your notebook.

“About not knowing what love is until you think you’ve found it.”

“And did you find it?”

“I don’t know. That’s the whole point of the song.”

“Open doors and something that feels like it could be more,” he sang softly.

“Please just say something,” you finally said.

Shawn stayed quiet and your head told you to run.

You grabbed your notebook and laptop with one swoop as you stood up and walked out of the room. You heard the screeching of the piano bench as Shawn stood up quickly to follow you, catching you as you left his apartment.

He grabbed your wrist to stop you before you made it to your door. You didn’t turn around and willed yourself not to cry as you gripped onto your things with all the life you had left in you.

“They’re about you,” he said as he let go of you. “Every song I’ve written for the past year. They’ve all been about you.”

Your heart beat out of your chest as you turned to look at him. His cheeks were just as pink as before and he was breathing heavily, his chest moving just a little too quickly as he just stared at you.

“It’s funny. It’s really actually really funny because you help me write most of my songs. You’ve been writing songs about yourself for over a year now and -“

Before you could overthink it, you took a step forward and pressed your lips to his to shut him up. After a moment of shock, his arm held onto your hip and pulled you closer to him as his other hand held your chin up. Your left arm stayed around your laptop and your right one found its way to his cheek. You only stopped once you thought you were about to drop everything, but even then, your forehead stayed settled against his as you both breathed heavily.

“It’s about you,” you whispered. “You said to write it into a song. About never being in love. But you were right. I think falling in love is more real than I gave you credit for.”

“How so?” He said as a smile graced his face. “You falling in love or something?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Maybe you can just sing it for me sometime?”

“My door is always open.”

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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome Part 22/? - Up to Speed Part 23/? - Expect Further Delays Part 24/? - The Welcome Wagon Part 25/? - Fugitives Part 26/? - A Reluctant Accomplice Part 27/? - Deja Vu Part 28/? - Interview with a Madwoman

Hey, check it out, I’m still alive.

Peggy knew she couldn’t spend all her time moaning over the romantic dilemma life had presented her with. She let herself dwell on it for a moment, then forced her mind on to more practical matters. By the time they returned to the farmhouse, she’d decided how she wanted to approach this interrogation.

“I think you should talk to her first,” she told Kay. “While I’m out of sight.”

“You’re the one who knows her,” Kay protested.

“Yes, but she’s expecting me,” Peggy reminded her. “If we start with you, it’ll catch her off guard.” She did not want Dottie to think she was in a position to make demands.

Kay nodded slowly. “All right, you go down by the hood. I’ll open the back.”

The back boot opened with a creak. Peggy could immediately smell ammonia. At some point during the night, Dottie had needed to relieve herself and had been either unwilling or unable to hold it in. Peggy probably ought to have felt sorry for her, but after all Dottie had put her through, it was hard.

There was a silence that was just a bit too long to be the moment in which Kay pulled the tape off Dottie’s mouth, and Peggy found it rather reassuring that the woman could still be taken by surprise.

“Dobroye utro,” said Kay. That meant good morning. “Olga Barynova.”

“Kto ty?” asked Dottie. Who are you? Her voice was level and measured, deliberately toneless.

“I’m you, but smarter,” Kay replied in English. “You didn’t read the message. You didn’t think you needed to, because you already know everything. Surprise!”

There was another silence, as Dottie re-assessed the situation. Peggy wondered what was going on in her head.

“You won’t take me back,” Dottie said. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“You didn’t read the message,” Kay repeated. “Do you want to know what it said, or are you just going to lie there in a puddle of your own piss trying to pretend you know what you’re talking about?”

Peggy really did rather wish she could see the expression on Dottie’s face. It was probably well worth seeing.

“What did the message say?” asked Dottie.

“That I have no intention of turning you back over to them,” Kay reassured her. “I want you and I to go back together, and we’re gonna burn the place down.”

Dottie laughed. “That’s exactly what you would say if you were here to drag me back, because it’s exactly what I would say to you if our positions were reversed.”

“You don’t trust me?” asked Kay. “You sure do seem to trust Peggy Carter, and I’m pretty sure she wants to see you rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

“Peggy thinks she’s one of the good guys,” Dottie snorted. “She keeps her promises even when they’re stupid. If you’re anything like me, you don’t know what a promise is.”

Peggy decided that was her cue. She came and stepped into Dottie’s field of view. It had clearly been a rough night for Dottie in the trunk of the car. She’d evidently struggled quite a bit, trying to loosen the tape, and had not succeeded. There were red marks on the visible skin of her arms and legs where it had dug into her flesh. Her hair was in disarray. She did look momentarily surprised when Peggy came into view, but hid it quickly.

“Peggy, Peggy, Peggy,” she said, clucking her tongue “You of all people should know better than to partner up with one of us. ��We’re bad news.”

“I decided I needed some expert advice,” Peggy replied. “Despite what Chief Thompson thinks, I am not nearly deranged enough to think like you do.”

“I’m not deranged,” said Dottie. “I know exactly what I’m doing. You just can’t believe that because it doesn’t align with your goals.”

“You want revenge,” said Kay. “You want to get back into the USSR un-noticed and destroy the people who made you. You don’t want another little girl to ever become what you are.”

“I’m not that altruistic,” Dottie replied. “I was seven years old when they put me and my best friend in a ring together and told us that only one could leave. I just want them to suffer.” She smiled tranquilly.

“So do I,” Kay promised.

“I don’t believe you,” Dottie told her flatly. “What’s in this for you, Peggy? Or are you the altruistic one?”

Peggy decided on the truth. “Kay has informed me that one of Captain America’s men is a prisoner in the USSR,” she said. “I want to help rescue him.”

“Aw, you’re doing it for love,” said Dottie. “That’s cute. So what makes you think I have any idea where to find him?”

“Because the same place that made us is also working on him,” said Kay. “He’s part of the Winter Soldier program.”

“And you don’t know where to find that?” Dottie asked suspiciously.

“My information is out of date,” Kay replied.

“I promise,” said Peggy. “I will not return you to your masters. I’m not sure what I am going to do with you, but I know to give you back to them would mean your death.”

“Oh, no,” Dottie shook her head. “It would be way worse than that.”

“I will rescue Sergeant Barnes, and you two may do what you wish with this Red Room and the people in it,” Peggy said. “But I promise that when I leave Russia again, I will take you with me.”

“What happens if I refuse?” asked Dottie. “Are you going to send me back to jail to have you hanged for treason, Peggy? I know you’re not going to kill me… that’s not your style.”

“No, but it’s mine,” said Kay. “And I doubt she’ll shed a single tear.” She took out a pocket knife. “I know you’re thinking of how you’re going to run away, or how you’re going to betray us both, but keep in mind. I know all your moves. I know all your hiding places. There is nothing you can do, and nowhere you can go, that I cannot anticipate. Do you understand?”

“Oh, yes,” Dottie said. “I understand perfectly.”

“Do you agree, then? You will help Peggy to find Sergeant Barnes, and in return I will help you to destroy the Red Room?”

“Absolutely,” said Dottie.

Peggy knew they couldn’t trust her, and realized she was counting on Kay to make sure they could keep Dottie under control. Kay had asked Peggy to trust her, hadn’t she? Now there was no choice. Was there a chance this still might turn around? That Kay might turn out to be the enemy after all?

It didn’t matter. Peggy was already in this too deep. Sunk Cost might have been a fallacy, but when the cost involved was one’s freedom and reputation, there wasn’t much to be done.

“It’s a deal, then,” said Kay, and started cutting the tape off Dottie.

“So,” said Dottie, entirely too casual. “It’s Kay, is it?”

“It is,” said Kay. “And what are you calling yourself these days, Olga?”

“Not Olga,” Dottie replied. “Olga Barynova died years ago. I like the name Peggy uses for me. After all, I am quite dotty, and I tend to do things under the table.” She looked at Peggy and smiled.

Peggy did not smile back.

“Then that’s what we’ll call you,” said Kay. She finished cutting the tape, and began peeling it off. “You’re hungry and dehydrated after being in that trunk all night. Come inside and we’ll give you something to eat.” They’d saved some of their own breakfast for her. “And you can tell us everything you know about the Winter Soldiers.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Dottie wagged a finger. “I’m not stupid. I’m not telling you anything until you’ve held up your end of the bargain. When we’re in Russia and haven’t been caught, then I’ll tell you where we’re going.”

Peggy would have protested, but Kay just shrugged. “That sounds fair,” she said.

“And how are we supposed to know what part of Russia we’re going to?” asked Peggy.

“That I can tell you after breakfast,” Dottie said. “Don’t worry about money, I’ve got some stashed away for the occasion. Now where’s that food. I’m starving.”

The two women sat and watched Dottie eat her breakfast, and Peggy’s misgivings only increased. Talking to Dottie had reminded her rather sharply that Kay was a master manipulator… she’d manipulated Peggy when Kay had been the one in prison, and now she’d managed to play Dottie, too, something Peggy would have thought was next to impossible. Now it was her, of all people, whom Peggy had to trust with her life, because the only alternatives were jail or Dottie.

Somewhere along the line she’d made a terrible mistake. In fact, the longer this went on, the more Peggy was sure the whole thing had been a series of terrible mistakes, right back to…

… well, no. Not staying in New York wasn’t a mistake, because if she’d done that, Steve would still be frozen in the arctic ice right now. And anything she’d done after that… no, there was really no point at which she could have extracted herself from this and not gotten in trouble for it. Not unless she was willing to admit that getting Steve back at all was a mistake, and she couldn’t possibly say that. Or could she? When Kay had told her outright that this wasn’t how history was ‘supposed’ to go, maybe it was a mistake.

It didn’t matter now, did it? The future was already changed, and they couldn’t go back and fix it.

Dottie devoured the breakfast they’d set out for her without the slightest thought of table manners, stuffing so much in her mouth that Peggy was afraid she’d choke. Once she’d satisfied her hunger, she asked for some twigs from the woods. Peggy sat with her while Kay brought back an armful they’d already gathered up, intending to use them as kindling. Dottie selected the ones she liked the shapes of, and arranged them into a map of the USSR.

“We won’t get in from the west,” she said. “They watch that too closely. To go from the east, we’d have to pass over Chinese airspace and that’s just as risky. From the south we’ve got the Himalayas blocking the way, and I don’t think any of us are crazy enough to try to go from the north. Not even me.” Dottie glanced up at her companions and smiled as if this were a very funny joke.

Peggy did not smile back, but Kay chuckled a little.

“The way in,” Dottie went on, “is through Turkey. The area is mountainous and difficult to patrol, but the locals know their way around I have some things prepared. It’ll be a long hike, but we can take the train from Tbilisi to Stalingrad…”

“Volgograd,” said Kay under her breath.

“… and from there, I’ll tell you where we’re going next,” said Dottie.

“Mm-hm,” said Peggy. It seemed straightforward enough, though Dottie was right – it would be a very long walk through some hostile terrain. “You said we’ll need that money you mentioned… where have you got that squirreled away?”

“Nevada,” said Dottie. “Joseph’s hanging on to it for me.”

The first Joseph Peggy thought of who might have anything to do with Dottie Underwood was Josef Stalin, but that could not possibly be right. “Who is Joseph?”

“Joseph Strieber.”

It took a moment for Peggy to remember who that was, and then it seemed almost as unlikely as Stalin – perhaps more so. “The Governor of Nevada?” she asked. “He’s the one who wants you caught! The mafia is breathing down his neck after you robbed the Toucan Hotel!”

“Plausible deniability,” said Dottie. “If he’s the one shouting that I need to be in prison, the mob won’t realize that he’s the one who let me into the Toucan at their grand opening. I was his date for the evening.” She smiled. “And now I can make him do anything I want.”

“So we’re going to Carson City,” said Kay.

Peggy thought she’d better make sure Governor Strieber didn’t get a look at her during this visit… she had enough problems right now without a desperate politician getting any leverage over her. “Then we need to catch up with Steve,” she added.

“Steve?” Dottie cocked her head and smiled. “We’re taking Captain America with us?”

“It’s his friend we’re rescuing,” said Peggy.

“Well, if you’d told me that from the beginning, I might have agreed to help without all the threats!” said Dottie, delighted. “He’s a dish, isn’t he?”

“So people say,” Peggy said. People who’d never met Steve, and didn’t realize that he was so much more than that. But she had another worry now, she realized… Dottie liked to know people’s weaknesses, and now she already knew what Peggy’s was.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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petri808 · 3 years ago

Text

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku canon divergent au #blood quirk #vampire quirk #bakudeku au #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #decchan #ktdk #ch 6 #bloody passion #petri808

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charismaandcashmere · 4 years ago

Link

In the modern world, it often seems like it’s harder than ever to accomplish your goals.

It seems like everyone has already done the thing you want to do — that your idea is already out there, that your niche is beyond saturated.

Want to start a blog? You’re up against a million rivals. Thinking about starting a podcast? So is everyone else and their mom. Hoping to write a book? With the advent of self-publishing, you’re not only up against authors approved by major publishing houses, but anyone, anywhere, with a laptop. Want to become a YouTube star? Better hope you get noticed next to the thousands of other folks uploading new videos every day.

There’s seemingly a million graphic designers, a million wannabe filmmakers, a million other, probably more qualified candidates gunning for the same job you want.

And that’s just in the marketplace. In your personal life, the competition can feel equally fierce. In the days of yore, you were just competing against people in your college or church to win the attention of a lady. Now you’re up against every Tom, Dick, and Harry on Tinder. The dating marketplace hypothetically stretches beyond your community to encompass your whole state, maybe even the whole country.

Yes, in both economic and personal spheres, demand seems high, and resources seem scarce. It’s enough to make you decide to give up and not try in the first place.

Yet this feeling of scarcity is just an illusion, a myth.

In truth, there’s never been a more opportune time to live. Not only because it’s never been cheaper and easier to write a book, share your art, or start a business, but because the average person’s ability to execute on the basics has never been in such short supply.

While opportunities to achieve your goals aren’t as scarce as you think, there are areas where true scarcity does exist: in common sense, in social skills, in manners, in reliability. There’s a dearth of people who know, or have the will, to do the stupidly easy stuff to be charming and successful.

Let me give you just one example. Both off the air and on, guests of my podcast will tell me, “I can tell you actually read my book before this interview and I really appreciate that. It’s so rare.” I don’t bring this up to toot my own horn, but rather to point out how ridiculous it is that this might even be something worthy of mention! An interviewer reading someone’s work before asking them questions about it would seem like the barest of bare minimum job requirements — a prerequisite rather than something above and beyond. And yet the majority of podcasters aren’t even taking care of this most basic of basics.

There are tons of people doing what you want to do, but how are they executing? In 90% of cases, not as well as they could be.

That’s your opening. And such openings are absolutely everywhere.

To take advantage of opportunities, people typically concentrate on stuff like building up their resume — going to the best school or getting the right internship. And certainly, these things can help.

But what’s missed is that it’s often doing stupidly easy stuff that’s going to allow you to make friends and land your dream job. It’s doing the stupidly easy stuff that almost no one else is doing that can most readily set you apart from the pack, and up for success.

What is some of that stupidly easy stuff? Below you’ll find a (non-exhaustive) list of the things it’s hard to believe people don’t do more often, and which have a huge ROI because most people can’t be bothered.

1. Send a thank you text when you get home from a nice party/date. In my opinion, this is the #1 easiest and best way to be a more charming texter. Yet almost no one does it. When someone has you over for dinner, or you take someone out on a date, once you part ways, they typically worry a bit as to whether or not you had a good time. And a party host wants to know their effort to throw the shindig was appreciated. So even if you thank your date/host in person at the end of the evening, once you get home, shoot them a confirming text saying, “Thanks again for the delicious dinner. We had such a good time!” Trust me on this, it’s stupidly, stupidly charming.

2. Write handwritten thank you notes, always and often. When an occasion was especially nice, instead of sending a text, write the person a handwritten thank you note and stick it in the mail. And send handwritten thank you notes for anything and everything else. Received a gift? Thank you note. Job interview? Thank you note. Someone helped you move? Thank you note. Someone went to bat for you at work? Thank you note.

Thank you note writing has become such a lost art, and receiving snail mail is so delightful, that sending handwritten appreciation has become one of the most effective ways to set yourself apart from the pack.

3. Edit your emails/texts before sending. No one ever catches all of the spelling and grammatical mistakes contained within their communications, but giving your texts and emails a couple reads before you hit send will tighten things up. These “clean” missives significantly contribute to making a winning digital impression.

4. Know how to make small talk. We spend so much time behind screens, that when we finally meet people face-to-face, our conversation can often be awkward and stilted. But being comfortable with small talk opens a tremendous amount of doors; sure, it starts out with the superficial, but it’s the on-ramp to deeper discussions — the pathway to relationships with potential lovers, new friends, and future employers. Fortunately, once you know the simple methodology that makes small talk flow, it’s easy to master.

5. Don’t be a conversational narcissist. Related to the above. The only kind of talk many people know how to make these days, is about themselves. Someone who knows how to listen and ask good questions comes off as stupidly charming.

6. Don’t look at your phone during a conversation. In an age of scattered attention, a person who can concentrate their attention on you, and fight the urge to look at their phone while you eat or talk — someone who can make you feel like the most important person in the room — is a charmer par excellence.

Can’t seem to pry yourself away? Check out our complete guide to breaking your smartphone habit.

7. Dress well for a job interview. You don’t have to show up to a job interview in a three-piece suit (unless the position calls for it); overdressing can make as poor a first impression as under-dressing. But showing up dressed just one notch above what current employees at the company wear will immediately set you apart from many other candidates. Well-shined shoes, a pressed shirt, and good hygiene will help too.

8. Come to a job interview prepared to ask questions of the interviewer. Whenever we post this article on “10 Questions to Ask in a Job Interview,” HR folks always weigh in with how “amazed” they are at the number of candidates who stare blankly when asked at the end of an interview, “Do you have any questions for us?” Know some questions to ask going in.

9. Take a woman on a real date. In a landscape of “What’s up”? texts and non-committal hang outs, taking a lady on a real date puts you head and shoulders above other suitors. What constitutes a real date? Watch this video and remember the 3 P’s: Planned, Paired Off, and Paid For.

10. Offer a sincere apology when you mess up. My generation seems to struggle with saying “I’m sorry” when they make a mistake. Numerous times I’ve had my order messed up at a restaurant, and when I bring it to the attention of the waiter or manager, they just shrug, say “Okay,” and fix it, without saying, “I’m sorry about that.” Then the other day an order of mine got messed up, and the manager took a totally different tack — comping my whole meal and bringing me a free dessert. That kind of treatment is so rare, it was unbelievably winning. I even found the manager after my meal to tell her so, and let her know I would specifically make an effort to return because of her gesture.

As it goes in the restaurant biz, so it goes with everything else. Most of your fellow employees will just say “Okay” when an error is brought to their attention. Offering a sincere apology that demonstrates you take responsibility and understand where you messed up and how it affects the company, will easily set you apart (so will immediately trying to make it right and preventing it from happening again).

And in your personal life, apologizing when you stumble is stupidly endearing. You’ll probably mess up again, and often with the same issue, but even when you can’t completely overcome your flaws, showing you’re at least completely aware of them goes a long, long way.

11. Follow through. I get a lot of emails from guys who want to do something with the Art of Manliness, like write a guest article or strike up a business partnership. They are excited! They are passionate! They are…MIA. They never follow-up or follow-through on their idea. I’ve often wondered what happens between their excited initial email, and their descent into silence. But whatever it is, it can easily be avoided by those committed to following through.

12. Be reliable. No quality today can more readily set you apart from your peers than reliability. Doing the follow-through just mentioned. Showing up on time (and just plain showing up). Meeting deadlines. Managing expectations and not overpromising. Promptly responding to emails. Keeping your word.

Are freelance graphic designers, artists, video/audio editors, app developers, programmers, contractors, etc. a dime a dozen? Surely. But a reliable creative professional or handyman? A pink unicorn. If you couple talent and skill with reliability, it’s stupidly easy to dominate your competition and your niche.

When you survey the economic and dating markets, they can seem incredibly oversaturated. Demand seems high and resources seem scarce. But when you take a closer look, you’ll find that while there are plenty of people all grasping after the same thing, there are only a few executing well on the attempt. Setting yourself apart isn’t complicated or hard; it often involves simply doing the stupidly easy stuff that everyone else overlooks.

Their obtusity is your gain; see through the myth of scarcity, take care of the basics, and the world is your oyster.

#my links #art of manliness #etiquette #the myth of scarcity

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ryqoshay · 3 years ago

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OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) YohaRiko

Again, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. About all of my flagships. And I wanted to answer all of the questions. And not wait for a handful to maybe be asked.

Anyway, credit again goes to @lonelypond for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for Happy Life, and to a lesser degree the AU, both for scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Riko. Yohane is very much not a morning person, especially after a late night of streaming.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Yohane. See above. However, if she doesn’t have time commitments for the day, Riko may occasionally want to stay in bed for some activities other than sleeping.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Either, though they are fond of getting ready together and helping one another, so in these cases, they’re done at the same time.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Yohane has many rituals for inducing sleep involving all manner of meditation, incense, herbal tea, topical rubs, nightmare wards and more. Whether or not they work is up to debate, but Riko is comforted by the sentiment, as portrayed in Dream Warden. Yohane herself takes comfort from being near those she loves, particularly Riko, while she sleeps.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Yohane, though it depends on the type of movie.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

More often Riko, though Yohane does enjoy watching a sleeping Riko from time to time.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Yohane. 100% Yohane. And she is well aware of how cheesy they are. And she knows how much Riko loves them.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

Yohane gets competitive over games in general.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Yohane is more likely to do so, though Riko can be absentminded on occasion.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Yohane.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Both have their reasons for their particularness in displaying their shelving; Riko likes to be able to quickly locate her favorite doujin while Yohane is considerate of the background for her ritual streams.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Yohane. With as many different attempts at different voices and accents as she can.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Early on, both, though for different reasons; Yohane out of excitement and Riko out of fear. Later, Yohane retains her excitement while Riko becomes more lax in her reactions.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Yohane.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Either

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Yohane knows she burns easily and is pretty good at remembering, though Riko is mindful that her girlfriend can be careless at times.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Riko.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Probably Yohane. Likely accompanied by some statement about missing being able to fly under her own power.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Yohane.

20. What do they argue about the most?

Early after moving in together, Yohane had a bad habit of bringing home stray pets, despite it being against the policy of the apartment complex, as depicted in Hibagon. These arguments subsided once the policy was changed, as depicted in Phobetor.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Yohane, though Riko certainly has her moments.

22. Who texts more often?

Yohane.

23. Who is better with kids?

Yohane is better at keeping kids entertained with her antics while Riko is better at tending to their care, be it feeding them, calming them down when they’re upset or applying first aid; Yohane is pretty good with first aid as well, having had far too much practice on herself.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Debatable. As I mentioned in the Notes for A Roost for Weary Wings, Yohane is capable of producing higher quality results, but also fails more spectacularly. Riko may lack the skills and confidence to produce highly extravagant meals, but she is far more consistent in producing edible food.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Riko. Despite what one may assume from my prior answer. Yohane will still eat it, not only because she has a strange sense of taste, but also because her beloved Riri made it for her and she will be damned before letting it go to waste.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Possibly Yohane.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Yohane.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Definitely Yohane.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Yohane. She’ll even bring her own spoon, as depicted in Valentine’s Taste Test.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Riko doesn’t mind it. Yohane dislikes it but is willing to balance the workload after Riko cooked.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

For food, especially exotic or exceptionally spicy food? Yohane. Although she does have a bit of a sweet tooth, as her favorites would imply. For enacting scenes from her favorite doujinshi with her girlfriend? Riko.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Both, though for slightly different reasons. Riko believes it is romantic to know certain things about one’s partner. Yohane believes it is the duty of a fallen angel to know such things about their little demons… or fellow angels?

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Yohane will often eat too fast and give herself a headache. Her favorite flavors are those of her favorite foods, chocolate and strawberry. Riko eats slower, more often out of a sundae dish than a cone, in part because a dish is better for eating at her pace, but also because it’s easier for Yohane to “steal” a bite or two. She enjoys Yohane’s favorites, but is also fond of mint and vanilla.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

Absolutely. Riko prefers going to museums or orchestra performances, though she has dragged Yohane to several doujin stores over the years. Yohane prefers higher energy environments like amusement parks, though she has dragged Riko to several gothic Lolita clothing stores and occult shops over the years. Both girls look forward to events like Comiket.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Riko smells the slightly sulfuric scent of boiling eggs her parents made often while she was growing up, the clean, salty air of Uchiura, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory. Yohane smells sweet black lilies, the lingering smoke from a myriad of incense that always permeates occult shops, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory.

The last scent for both is an idea I had while Googling random stuff for this question. It’s basically how one website describe the smell of Dragon’s Blood resin when burned as incense. I want to bring it up in a scene or two in both HL and HL(AU), though there will be a difference between the kinds found here on Earth and up in Heaven, which may end up as a minor connecting plot point.

I realize this leaves Riko without something that she knows is directly related to Yohane, but I was trying to avoid using incense too much, as it already had three entries between them. Also, it technically is related to Yohane, she just doesn’t realize it right away. I’m hoping whatever I write someday will make that connection for her. Not that she’ll ever smell Amortentia in HL, but…

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

It’s no secret that Yohane loves her snuggles. Riko is quieter about her desires, but can be quite insistent, nonetheless.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Riko. Yohane is far more vocal about her discomfort, especially when it comes to temperature.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Riko is more likely to do so, though Yohane might as well. That said, I don’t believe I have them owning a vehicle in HL, so this probably won’t come into play anytime soon in my works.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Riko, as the more consistent cook of the pair, she is more likely to make their lunch bentos for the day. (Bonus: What does it say?) Casual reminders of her love for her Yocchan.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Both are quite affectionate, though Yohane is far more likely to initiate, especially in public though even in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Riko is most often the big spoon. Though Yohane might try to have one believe elsewise.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Riko loves Yohane’s smile when she is passionate about something, be it her streams or games or whatever. Yohane loves the way Riko’s fingers dance across the keyboard.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Yohane becomes increasingly aware of Riko’s behavior and attitude toward Chika and has to make a conscious effort to avoid holding anything against the idol group’s leader; she likes Chika as a friend, after all, and is thankful that she brought her into the group in the first place. Riko starts to include Yohane in her fantasies.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Yocchan and Riri

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Riko is constantly concerned that Yohane’s abysmal luck will eventually cause her actual harm, as in more than just catching a cold or getting a scrape or small cut. Yohane also fears that her abysmal luck will adversely affect Riko.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Yohane all the time, in public and in private. Riko, in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Yohane said it first in Revelations.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

That’s actually a good question. I haven’t decided yet for this ship. I mean I have plans for revealing that the blonde Mari knows, but as for the couple actually telling people… hrm… Off the top of my head, I’d be more likely to say Yohane.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both are quite capable of entertaining themselves without the other. Riko can play the piano and Yohane can play her games until their fingers cramp if they are not actively doing something together. And they have Phobetor and Prelude to pet and take on walks and play with. It’s not until bedtime that they become more aware of the other’s absence.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Depends. Yohane is more the emotional rollercoaster and could easily be overwhelmed by kindness from the girl for whom she held a one-sided crush for far too long. Riko is also likely to moved, though more through something that fits into some trope she loves in her doujin; good thing Yohane can be quite genre-savvy when she wants.

#YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Happy Life

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flowercrown-bard · 4 years ago

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Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 belongs to this

Content warning: Memory loss (only briefly and not shown too explicitly) and brief mention of future death (very brief and only in the last section. To skip stop at ““I am with Jaskier,” he said instead of a real answer”)

can be read as a stand alone, I think. Only brief references to earlier chapters

Almost 5k sorry. I blame Lambert for this

“I’ve been thinking,” Geralt said and let his hand trace lazy patterns over Jaskier’s arm. “But I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Promising start.”

Geralt huffed out a laugh. “Sometimes I do have good ideas.”

“Mhhmm,” Jaskier said and snuggled closer to him, his hand coming to rest on Geralt’s chest. “Staying in bed was an excellent idea. So what have you been thinking about?”

Jaskier dragged the blanket further up until it almost covered his whole face, only the eyes peeking out to look up at Geralt.

Geralt hoped Jaskier couldn’t feel his heart speed up uncomfortably. He had been toying with this idea for a while now, ever since he had realised that it would be no use trying to regrow their flowers. The time for that had passed and the air had become too cold for them to sprout.

“You are cold, aren’t you?” He didn’t need to ask that question when the answer was so obvious in the way Jaskier was seeking out his warmth while being buried under a heap of blankets.

“Of course I am. It’s mid-autumn.” His tone took on a teasing note. “Good thing I have a lovely witcher to keep me warm.”

“What if you had more than that?” The question was out before Geralt could stop his mouth. He silently cursed himself. He had meant to ease Jaskier into his idea, not blurting his thoughts out as they came.

Jaskier’s brows knitted together and he rose slightly to get a better look at Geralt.

“I don’t need more than that. You are quite enough for me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Geralt swallowed nervously. “I meant, what if you had more than one witcher around you? With no flowers to sell, no music lessons and no contracts we won’t have much this winter.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jaskier’s words tumbled out of his mouth with all the enthusiasm of a young bird that was soaring up into the sky for the first time. “Please say you’re taking me to Kaer Morhen!”

Geralt sighed. This was exactly why he had hesitated to tell him. “Do you think you will manage there? You know the winters aren’t very … pleasant in the keep. Colder than here.”

“Lucky me then, that I have a lovely witcher to keep me warm,” Jaskier repeated with a playful smirk.

Geralt’s lips twitched up, but his fingers stilled in Jaskier’s hair. As much as Jaskier’s enthusiasm made his heart leap, he needed him to be serious.

“It’s just an idea,” he said carefully. “I haven’t thought much about how to get there yet. I don’t want to disappoint you if it doesn’t work out.”

Jaskier swatted his hand against his chest. “You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. Not when you’re so sweet suggesting we could go see the family again.”

Geralt’s lips stretched into a real smile at the word family. He had known of course that this was what his brothers and Vesemir were to Jaskier, but there would never come a day where Geralt would tire of hearing Jaskier say it out loud.

“Now, as much as I love being utterly lazy and cosy in bed with you,” Jaskier said while throwing the blankets off, ignoring his own shivering. “I believe we have preparations to make.”

“I can’t believe I ever missed this.” Yennefer’s voice cut sharply through Jaskier’s chatter, as he was doing his best to introduce Yennefer and Kris, who had been helping them with their travel preparations, to each other while also being unable to form a coherent sentence out of excitement.

Kris just gave Yennefer a lopsided grin and a nod in greeting.

“I guess you’ll be taking over from here?” they asked, fond exasperation in their voice.

Yennefer scoffed, though her eyes rested softly on Jaskier, not hesitating to steady him should the need arise. “I’m only taking them to their little vacation spot and then I’m off. Nothing could convince me to endure more of this” she nodded her chin towards Jaskier’s ear-to-ear- grin “than necessary. I don’t know how you do it.”

Kris just shrugged, but whatever answer they might have given was cut short by Jaskier’s mock offended gasp.

“You – “ he pointed an accusatory finger at Yen. “You love me and you know it. You just lack the mental strength to compete with my wit and charm.”

Geralt rolled his eyes at them. At least one thing that hadn’t changed, Geralt noted with the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Come on then,” Yennefer said. “We have no time to waste. Any longer and Jaskier might become ancient instead of just old.”

With a sly smirk she turned to Kris, whose eyes widened at the sight of the portal that appeared in front of the cottage at a wave of Yennefer’s hand. They looked on in wonder, as Geralt guided Jaskier through it. The last thing he could hear was a bemused “Enjoy your time off from these idiots” before the familiar headache that came with walking through a portal overtook his senses, only receding when he stepped out to feel frozen forest floor beneath his feet, the wall of Kaer Morhen towering over him.

“Since when are you able to portal so close to the keep?” he asked with a frown once Yennefer had passed through the portal as well.

“Since your bard would break his neck trying to make his way up the mountains,” she said, a look of barely concealed worry on Jaskier, who was swaying and leaning heavily against Geralt. Apparently travelling per portal didn’t get any easier with age. “I will renew the warding spells soon enough. At least until I have to get back here in spring to get you back.” Her lips quirked up. “That is unless Jaskier doesn’t do something to piss me off in the next few hours, making me leave you two to get back on your own.”

“Thank you, Yen,” Geralt said, hoping that his voice conveyed all the sincere gratitude he felt. None of this would have been possible if Yennefer hadn’t answered his letters so quickly, ready to make sure that Jaskier was safe and happy for the winter, even if she didn’t let up with her taunts.

“Just go see the others. I’m sure they’re already waiting for you.”

Yennefer was, of course, right.

The three of them hadn’t yet reached the gates, when they heard a shout of “Get your arses out here! They’re finally here!” coming from inside the keep.

Geralt felt his shoulders relax at Lambert’s unmistakable voice and the last of his tension left him, once he saw his family walk towards him. It had been too long. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed them.

The only thing keeping Geralt from running towards his brothers and tackling them into a long overdue hug was Jaskier, who was still gripping tightly to his arm.

The other witchers stopped their approach, their smiles frozen, when they finally laid eyes on Jaskier.

They stood still, as if Jaskier was a scared animal that could spook at any sudden movement.

No, that was not it. They looked, like they were scared of Jaskier. To anyone else they might look no different than on any other day, but Geralt knew them well enough to see the hints of fear around their eyes.

His heart clenched as Eskel turned his face slightly, a vain attempt to hide his scars in the shadows. Coën unfolded his arms, hunching his shoulders to make himself appear smaller and less threatening, while Vesemir did his best to ease his frown into what might have looked approachable and welcoming for a witcher, but for anyone not knowing them, would still seem like a threatening scowl.

Lambert was the only one, who did nothing to hide the tension in his body and his strained expression.

For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity no one said a word. Geralt could hear his brother’s stuttering hearts and held breaths.

The unspoken ‘What if he doesn’t remember us?’ hanging heavily in the air.

An indignant snort next to him broke the silence.

“It’s been a while since my beauty has left anyone speechless for that long,” Jaskier said with a wink, not a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “Or maybe you don’t even recognize my handsome face under all these wrinkles?”

“Fuck, buttercup.” Lambert was the first to release his breath in a sharp laugh, laden with relief. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Jaskier’s answering laugh was enough to ease the tension out of the others. Smiles took the place of tense frowns and they finally got to embrace after years of being parted, only breaking away from each other when Jaskier’s shivering became too hard to ignore and he was ushered inside by Vesemir.

Jaskier hadn’t said anything about it, but it was obvious that he was aching. Winters were always harder for him and the sudden change in the climate - travelling from the mildly chilly south to the frozen north in a manner of minutes – left Jaskier shaking and pulling a grimace he was barely able to hide at every movement he made.

Yennefer clicked her tongue disapprovingly when Jaskier insisted that he was fine. She would hear none of his complaints, when she brought forth something that looked almost like candy, but judging from the face Jaskier pulled when he swallowed it, tasted nowhere close to the delicious treats he always liked to sneak.

It was worth it, though, to see the poorly concealed expression of pain fade from Jaskier’s face.

His steps were still slow and a bit wobbly at times, but Jaskier made it back to the library where the others were sitting, ready with blankets and a roaring fire in the hearth, without even once groaning in pain.

“What did you give him?” Geralt asked Yennefer quietly, once Jaskier had nestled himself under the blanket with Eskel, swatting away Eskel’s attempts at draping the blanket in a way that wouldn’t leave an inch of Jaskier bare.

“It takes away some of his pain. Triss showed me how to make it.”

Geralt perked up, willing his heart not to speed up in foolish hope. “It’s healing him?”

Yennefer sighed and leaned back, her eyes boring into Geralt with fierce seriousness. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop it.”

“I wasn’t –“

“Of course you were. Yes, it’s healing him in a way. It makes sure he is feeling a bit stronger and makes it so that Jaskier won’t hurt that much. But what he has is nothing that can be healed. Not permanently.”

Geralt felt himself deflate, even though he had known nothing would ever come of this train of thought. “He will still age.”

“As he should.” Before Geralt could speak up again, she gave him his answer. “I can do nothing about his mind either. I won’t alter any part of who he is. And this is who he is now.”

“Our lives have been made longer.” Geralt wasn’t sure why he said it. One could hold a sword to his throat and still he wouldn’t subject Jaskier to even half of what had been done to them. It just…Geralt had to at least voice it, even as he knew the thought would be leading nowhere.

“You don’t want that for him,” Yennefer said softly.

“No. I don’t.”

“He doesn’t want that either.” She paused, letting her eyes drift over to Jaskier, who was talking animatedly about their garden, describing the flowers in vivid detail and imagining with a dreamy expression how pretty wolfs and the griffin would look with flowers in their hair. “I talked to him about it, did you know? Must have been almost a decade ago. I offered to look into magic that could prolong his life. Do you know what he said?”

Geralt grunted, not sure if he wanted to hear it.

“He said his songs gave him all the immortality he could want. He said he was allowing himself to make the selfish choice and grow old.”

Geralt scowled, but swallowed down against the lump in his throat that was making his words come out choked. “Nothing selfish about being human.”

“Many would disagree.”

Laughter rang through the library as Jaskier brought one of his anecdotes to conclusion, his warm eyes landing on Geralt with a smile that showed off all of his wrinkles in their full beauty.

Something that had been pressing uncomfortably on his heart came lose in Geralt’s chest. “Nothing selfish about being happy then.”

Geralt’s eyes didn’t leave Jaskier, even as Yennefer reached out for his hand and offered the little comfort with her touch that she could. He skin felt smooth against his. Geralt missed the wrinkles of Jaskier’s fingers.

“I wouldn’t have had to see you grow old and aching all the time, if we had stayed together.”

“No,” Yennefer agrees. “But neither of us would have been as happy as you two are and as I am with Triss.”

“Nothing selfish about being happy.”

Yennefer had barely left the keep to go back to her own happiness, when Jaskier called out for him to get the thing they talked about.

Geralt dodged his brothers’ questioning eyes. Jaskier had spent too long agonizing over this to spoil it for him. Immediately after sending the letter to Yennefer asking her to help them with a portal, Jaskier had started gathering ideas for this, even writing them down, so as not to run the risk of forgetting anything.

Jaskier was practically vibrating with excitement, when he took the bag from Geralt under the curious eyes of the others.

Geralt shooed Eskel off his seat next to Jaskier and took it in his stead, ignoring the only mildly scolding look he received.

“Vesemir, you are first,” Jaskier said brightly and held something out for the eldest witcher, who accepted the gift with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he read the cover of the book.

“Bestiary of serpents and other sea-dwelling monsters,” Vesemir read out loud. “Where did you get this, lad? There is barely any reliable information of sea creatures out there.”

Jaskier’s smile turned sheepish, but there was a boyish glint in his eyes. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Vesemir obliged, opening a random page. For a heartbeat his expression didn’t change, before he burst out into laughter.

“This is the stupidest stuff I’ve ever read,” he snorted, before glimpsing at the shelf designated specifically for books featuring hilariously incorrect descriptions of various beast – most of which had their origins in Jaskier’s songs – where this bestiary would undoubtedly find its new spot of honour.

Geralt stayed quiet, as the rest of the witchers received their gifts and Jaskier’s eyes shone brighter with each smile he got out of his friends.

A knitted blanket for Lil’ Bleater, who by now barely deserved that name anymore that earned him a soft look from Eskel.

“Can’t let her get cold,” Jaskier said with a shrug. “We old folk must stick together.”

A pin with a greenish yellow gemstone called Griffin’s Eye that Jaskier had bought from a fisherman who had found it in the sea, for Coën. Jaskier explained that it could be worn in a beard, just as some people would put jewellery in their hair, though Jaskier didn’t fail to sternly remind Coën that there was no need to hide his scars beneath his beard, as he was just as handsome as the rest of the witchers.

“Well, apart from Geralt, of course. He’s the prettiest,” Jaskier said with a wink. “But I am biased, so that hardly counts.”

A little wooden figure of a cat that Jaskier had begged Geralt to make for Lambert.

“For when you miss Aiden.”

It earned Jaskier a “Fuck off”, but Lambert’s attempt at disguising his softened eyes with outrage had no one fooled.

“That’s everything,” Jaskier said, beaming at the way Lambert, Eskel and Coën were running their fingers over their gifts to feel the texture and Vesemir was already thumbing through his book with a chuckle on his lips.

“Not quite,” Geralt said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

When Jaskier gave him a confused look, Geralt pulled a little shard of sea shell out of his pockets and placed it on the sill of the fire place.

“It’s for good luck. For our second home.”

Despite what Lambert had said to welcome Jaskier, there was no doubt in any of the witchers that Jaskier had changed.

Geralt could see it in their expressions, when they weren’t sure how they should talk to Jaskier; in the way they wouldn’t shove him playfully anymore like they used to for fear of hurting him.

Eskel had always been gentle with Jaskier, but it was strange seeing Lambert and Coën walk on eggshells around him.

It was hard to miss that Jaskier noticed as well.

At first he didn’t pay much attention to it, but after a while, Geralt couldn’t help but notice Jaskier flinching, whenever Lambert went to pat his back only to change his mind last minute. He couldn’t unsee the way Jaskier’s face fell when Coën opened his arms as if going in for a hug to then let his arms fall limply and awkwardly, before Jaskier could fling himself into his arms.

The whole idea of coming to Kaer Morhen had been that Jaskier would be around familiar faces other than Geralt’s; that he could be with people who knew and loved him from before.

“They just need time to get used to it,” Geralt said in what he hoped was a soothing voice, after Lambert had cut himself off from making a cutting taunt and left before Jaskier got the chance to say anything. “They won’t be idiots throughout the whole winter.”

Jaskier cracked a weak smile. “They’re always idiots.”

“Of course they are.” Geralt leaned in conspiratorially. “Are you going to pass up on your chance to take advantage of that?”

Jaskier’s eyes, already sparkling in mischief were answer enough.

The next days were filled with harmless, but incredibly annoying pranks Jaskier pulled with the help of Geralt.

It was almost like old times, when Lambert and Jaskier would try to outdo each other to prove that they were the superior nuisance. With the small difference of course, that no one dared to take revenge on Jaskier.

That is, until one fateful morning, Lambert stormed into Geralt’s room, scratching his arms frantically.

“You!” He pointed accusingly at Jaskier, whose delighted grin was half-hidden by the blanket. “You have gone too far.”

“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of,” Jaskier said with the shit eating grin of someone who knew very well what they were being accused of and that they deserved every bit of it. “I am only a helpless and innocent old man after all.”

Lambert snorted. “Innocent, my ass. You put fucking itching powder into my shirt.”

“Oh, is that what it was?” Geralt had to repress a snort at Jaskier’s big eyes and not-at-all-innocent tone. “I must have misread the label. Old and fragile as I am.”

“Fuck off, buttercup.”

“That is no way to talk to your elders, young man. Truly, if only I wasn’t so – Hey! Put me down!”

Lambert didn’t pay his protests any mind, kicking the bedroom door open with his foot.

Geralt followed them, conveniently ignoring Jaskier’s calls for help that were broken off by his own laughter.

The sounds of mirth too were soon replaced by an undignified shriek, as Lambert unceremoniously, yet carefully dropped Jaskier into a pile of snow in the court yard.

Geralt stood to the side, leaning against the doorway, content to watch in amusement as Jaskier enacted his own revenge by throwing snow at Lambert. Geralt was only forced to join in when some stray snowballs not so accidentally hit him in the face as well.

He knew Jaskier’s hands would be freezing soon and they would spend the rest of the day making sure Jaskier didn’t catch a cold, making him drink tea and bundling him up in a blanket in front of a warm fire.

But for now, Jaskier got to enjoy the snow and the knowledge that Lambert was back to being the annoying bastard that he was always meant to be.

After that, the tension in the keep eased away steadily. Geralt’s brothers were still hovering over Jaskier, ready to jump to his aid at any minute, but after Jaskier had started loudly complaining about ‘young people these days’, they had taken to making it into a game of who could keep an eye on Jaskier the longest without being spotted or betting playfully scolded.

Coën didn’t exactly win with in a rout, but he certainly managed to secure his place close to Jaskier, when one day after supper, he just picked Jaskier up and started carrying him to wherever he wanted to go.

Jaskier’s delighted laugher mingled with half-hearted protests made Geralt’s heart swell.

“No, Coën, put me down this instant! I refuse to get carried about like a sack of potatoes!” He struggled in the griffin’s arms, weak enough to make it clear to anyone watching that he wasn’t truly trying to escape. “If you don’t let me down now, I will annoy you into letting me go!”

Coën chuckled at the threat and only tightened his grip. “Don’t be ridiculous, bard. I used to give Ciri piggyback rides all the time when she was around. If I could manage that rascal, I sure as hell can manage you.”

“Are you challenging my ability to be a nuisance?” Jaskier asked with a glint in his eyes that promised trouble.

Safe to say, Jaskier made good on his threat to be as bothersome as possible. And safe to say that with every attempt at annoying him that felt closer to how Jaskier had been as a young man, Coën seemed to take more joy in carrying him around.

Geralt feared it would take the entire winter to determine which one of them would win this battle of stubbornness.

Seeing Jaskier interact with his brothers as he had always done before lifted a weight from Geralt’s shoulders, he hadn’t been aware he had been carrying.

Still, there were days, even weeks at a time, when Jaskier retreated into that far-off place in his mind. He still teased the witchers, still laughed and was happy, but there was something off about it.

Geralt couldn’t be certain if Jaskier’s relationship with his family was still the same because he knew that he had loved them for years, or because he wasn’t aware of how much time had passed since he had last been in the keep.

After all, being surrounded by men who still looked the same as they had decades ago was bound to mess with Jaskier’s head, especially when every so often, he seemed to lose all sense of orientation and time on his own.

On days like these, Geralt could feel the pitying looks of Eskel and Coën burning into him.

Lambert was the only one who didn’t fuss over Jaskier when he got that distant look in his eyes or treat Geralt like a thin sheen of ice that could shatter at the lightest pressure. He had always been one to throw explosives at frozen lakes.

Lambert closed off himself, becoming gruffer than ever.

Geralt was almost grateful for him. As much as he appreciated Eskel’s concerned touches on his shoulder telling him that he was there if Geralt needed him, he didn’t want pity, didn’t want his family to treat him like he was about to break.

They were already deep in their cups, when Geralt couldn’t help but voice his thoughts. Eskel and Coën had left him and Lambert to drink alone after one too many jabs from Lambert, when the others had become too obvious in avoiding talking about Jaskier, who had spent the day staring into the fireplace mesmerised, only moving when Geralt urged him to eat.

Lambert scoffed at Geralt’s clumsy thanks for not pitying him.

“Well, he’s my friend too, isn’t he?”, Lambert said, gripping his tankard tightly, scowling at is as though it was the cause of all his problems. “The others might have forgotten that Jaskier’s not only your family in their ridiculous selflessness, but I for one am pissed that sometimes my friend doesn’t recognise me.”

Those words startled Geralt out of his drunken haze. “Being pissed off is selfish?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Lambert’s scowl deepened. “That’s what I’ve always been called though when I got pissed. I was pissed when I was dragged to this shithole as a child. I was pissed when I was send out to save people who would spit at me. I don’t fucking care if my anger is selfish.”

Unbidden images of Geralt storming away from Jaskier because he couldn’t handle seeing him like a shell of himself, fought their way to the forefront of Geralt’s mind. Images of Jaskier holding him close when it all became too much for Geralt.

“Good. You have every right to be angry.” Geralt said, eyes boring into Lambert’s. “But just for the record. It’s not - It’s not selfish. Or if it is, then we both are.”

More often than not, it was like old times. Once everyone had gotten used to Jaskier disappearing into his mind every once in a while, the old routine was back. Evenings were spent with Jaskier prodding everyone for details of their hunts or sitting in the library together while Jaskier played his lute, for as long as his joints allowed him too.

Yennefer’s medicine did not work miracles. She had made that abundantly clear before she had left, but it gave Jaskier the chance to make music for longer than just a few minutes before the ache in his fingers would force him to stop.

In the mornings, Jaskier would watch them train and spar with a familiar spark in his eyes.

Seeing Jaskier perched on a bench, nestled in a blanket to keep the cold at bay with an expression of pure joy was worth enduring Lambert’s merciless teasing about Geralt getting slow and lazy in his time off the Path.

Geralt couldn’t deny it, the long absence of any real fight was showing, but it felt good to spar with his brothers again.

He had been unsure how Vesemir would react to his decision of giving up hunting for a while, but all his old mentor did to acknowledge it was frown when Geralt got bested by Coën for the third time in a row.

“Retirement is no excuse for sloppy footwork.”

As the snow started to thaw and the witchers grew restless, itching to go back on the Path, Geralt found himself in Eskel’s room, sitting together on the bed like they had when they had been children.

Despite Eskel’s multiple attempts of talking to Geralt about Jaskier’s state, Geralt had successfully managed to avoid this conversation. Until now.

It was different knowing that soon their time here would end and their paths would split again, Eskel going off to risk his life and Geralt tending to flowers and taking walks on the shore with Jaskier.

It was good talking to Eskel. Talking to anyone, really, but Eskel had always known what to say and how to comfort people.

He didn’t ask about Jaskier. Spending the winter months with him had answered all questions better than Geralt could have done. Instead, Eskel asked about Geralt. How he was handling the quiet life, if he was alright, if there was anything Eskel could do to help him.

It was so close to how they used to talk before the trials and then after their first year on the Path.

Just like back then, Geralt didn’t know how to reply. How was he handling all of this? He didn’t know. Maybe it was alright not to know.

“I am with Jaskier,” he said instead of a real answer. Eskel nodded, as if that meant anything to him. Maybe it did. Geralt knew that it meant everything to himself.

“How will you manage after?” Eskel said carefully, tone blank, but one of his hands rested on Geralt’s shoulders, grounding him.

Neither of them explicitly said it, but they both knew what ‘after’ meant. After Jaskier was gone. After there was no quiet life on the coast left for Geralt to return to.

Geralt didn’t answer for a long time.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, leaning into Eskel’s touch. “But I will manage. Somehow. We still have time. For now, I am going to plant flowers and watch him smile and be happy.”

Eskel gave him a long look, but didn’t reply.

Maybe it hadn’t been fair for Geralt to escape the path and build this new life. Maybe it had been selfish to turn his back on the world and let his brothers continue on their own.

He thought of sea shells on window sills, of laughter and soft smiles, of flowers and toes that dug into sand until the sea washed his doubts away. He thought of Jaskier’s hand in his, squeezing lightly as if to say I am still here. Thank you for being here with me.

Maybe Geralt was selfish for choosing Jaskier and maybe he was stupid in refusing to think about what would come after. But for now, it was enough to have Jaskier’s smile and his blue eyes in his life and just be happy.

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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

jaskier’s breakup album

alright full disclosure i probably went into way more detail than i needed to. but jaskiers a dramatic little shit and therefore so am i. but this album slowly became my baby and I've been listening to it for the last 2 weeks while I've been doing homework and its a good sad bop. these are just my opinions, but i think it would be cool to see what other people think (esp because im fairly new to this fandom). also this post is really long. sorry about that.

so. we all know jaskier is a bard. he traipses around writing songs about whatever fling he's having or about his witcher. netflix canon makes it pretty clear that geralt is one of jaskiers muses (and probably one of his more reliable ones given what we know about jaskiers dating history). jaskier is also very, very dramatic (as I'm sure everyone knows cause he's the damn comic relief that show desperately needs). in particular though the scene at the beginning of 1x05 where geralt is djinn hunting and jaskier stumbles upon him, drunk, singing off key, and rambles about how "the countess de stael, my muse and beauty of this world, has left me. again. rather coldly and unexpectedly, i might add. i fear i shall die a broken hearted man” and jaskier is clearly half muttering some sad attempt at a breakup song he's trying to write at the beginning of the episode so the question is, wouldn't he do the same thing post mountain scream down with geralt?

the answer is of course, yes he would because jaskier is nothing if not a dramatic little shit. and i am proposing that he writes not only one but an entire album (or set if this is canon era, but if this is canon i think he would keep a great many of these songs to himself, only playing a few select ones with the hopes that someday geralt will hear one and realize how badly he fucked up) of break songs and lamentations about geralt, because say all you want about what their relationship is, but one does not simply go traipsing around the entire continent with someone for 20 years and not grow close to them in some way shape or form (and the show makes it clear that geralt is at least one of jaskiers close friends so). now what is on this breakup album? well I'm glad you asked.

i peg jaskiers music (modern or canon honestly) for this album as being a combination of taylor swift’s folklore/evermore albums and james arthur and ill explain why.

taylor swifts folklore/evermore albums have this almost ethereal, floaty, reminiscent, indie vibes. there are many metaphors, recurring themes and its overall kinda dramatic at points which i feel is exactly what jaskier would be doing right now (it also just kinda gives me canon era vibes, idk). but james arthurs music is much more emotionally intense which i think is definitely in character for jaskier at this point because he strikes me as someone who copes with things through his music. both artists do the sings through story telling in an almost monologue manner which goes along with that kinda bardic music and all that. i also think that jaskier would want geralt to know that these songs are about him because hes dramatic like that (kinda like how taylor swift writes her stuff). anyway here's what i think would be on his breakup album:

heres a link to the playlist

1. the lakes - taylor swift 2. from me to you i hate everybody - james arthur 3. maybe - james arthur 4. sad eyes - james arthur 5. hoax - taylor swift 6. naked - james arthur 7. right where you left me - taylor swift 8. all too well - taylor swift 9. impossible - james arthur 10. exile - taylor swift 11. illicit affairs -taylor swift 12. safe inside - james arthur 13. quite miss home -james arthur 14. my tears ricochet -taylor swift 15. phoenix - james arthur 16. this is me trying - taylor swift 17. happiness - taylor swift 18. death by a thousand cuts - taylor swift 19. empty space - james arthur 20. coney island - taylor swift 21. new years day - taylor swift 22. the 1 -taylow swift

so theres 22 songs which im sure jaskier would do on purpose cause hes a dramatic little shit ( “one song for every year i wasted on you” or something of that sort). jaskier being a dramatic little shit is going to be a recurring theme. some of them work better for modern era than canon era but as a whole this can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic. anyway lets unpack.

1. the lakes by taylor swift (more canon era interpretation)

this song is the bonus and final track off of folklore. the song is actually about how she wants to go live in seclusion with her boyfriend out of the public eye but that is not what it means in this interpretation. i think that this song is about how jaskier feels as though his career as a bard is tainted now because he spent so many years singing geralts praises and there is no way he will be able to escape that part of his life because undoubtedly hes going to get requests for toss a coin and others he wrote about geralt and people will probably know him as “the witchers bard”. so this song is him talking about how he wants to run away and live out his life in seclusion because geralt took from him one of the only happinesses in his life.

Take me to the lakes, where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry I'm settin' off, but not without my muse

the line “i dont belong and my beloved neither do you” references the fact that jaskier feels like an outcast now that he’s spent years traveling around with a witcher, notoriously outcasts from society, so he feels that he doesnt belong anymore either.

I want auroras and sad prose I want to watch wisteria grow Right over my bare feet 'Cause I haven't moved in years And I want you right here

the second stanza references his idealization of living out his life in solitude, with nature, where no one can judge him (and geralt cant yell at him).

jasper would have started this album with that song because it states his intentions: he feels as though he’s done with singing. it could also refer to him leaving the public eye (in modern era) to write this album.

2. from me to you i hate everybody by james arthur (more canon era interpretation)

songs 2-4 on jaskiers album are ones that he wrote at various points while he and geralt were still together/best friends/etc. these three songs establish what the relationship was like before everything went downhill, but they are kind of melancholy, like looking back on a past love (which is what jaskier is doing). this one jaskier wrote about when they met. geralt would have heard him play it before and he would have known that this song was about him (he probably also secretly liked it and jaskier putting it on his album would have been like a slap in the face because it wasn't one that he had shared with other people, thinking it to be too personal). if this album had been released in modern era, jaskier would have released this song as a single to get geralts attention. he would have definitely wanted geralt to know that this album was about him.

I used to come here on my own and drink So I didn't have to think or hear the whispering I stand with people telling lies again In suits and ties again and I just need a friend

they meet in the tavern and its clear that jaskier is Not having a good time and really just needs a friend, hence why he decides to go talk to geralt.

You walked into the room and cut the atmosphere like a knife, alright Sobering mind 'cause up to now, I've just been wasting my time, ooh yeah

the “wasting my time” part is of particular interest because it clearly articulates that jaskier feels as though adventuring around with geralt was the best part of his life and before that he'd just been a bard with debatable songs. the song as a whole makes it sound like geralt was jaskiers lifeline.

3. maybe by james arthur (modern or canon era works)

this song, while geralt would know immediately it was about him, was not one jaskier ever shared with geralt. it would have been written a few years after he and geralt had met initially. the reason that jaskier never shared it was because it talks about destiny and geralt made it Very Clear that he does not want to fuck with destiny.

I don't know what's going on Where you came from and why you took so long All I know is that I feel it Like it's the realest thing, I mean it Something changed when I saw you Oh, my eyes can't lie You said, "They're so damn blue And I love how you're so forward Is it too soon to say I'm falling?"

this would have been what young jaskier felt over the course of a few years after traveling around (or befriending if this is modern). There was probably a slip up somewhere, or jaskier just thought that he got really good at interpreting geralts grunts and the line about the eyes is what he hoped/imagined/thought geralt was saying to him in return.

So maybe Maybe we were always meant to meet Like this was somehow destiny Like you already know Your heart will never be broken by me So is it crazy For you to tell your friends to go on home? So we can be here all alone Fall in love tonight And spend the rest of our lives as one

jaskier probably thinks that destiny is some wildly romantic thing hence why he compares them meeting to destiny. the line about heart break would have also hit especially hard after the mountain scene. also i think its pretty clear that jaskier wants to spend as much of his life traipsing around with geralt in the show (modern era wouldn't have been any different), hence wanting to spend the rest of his life with geralt.

Oh, is it too crazy For you to tell your brothers about me? They told me they'll protect you But I'll look them in the eye Tell them you and I will be as one

this is the part that sells it for me. i think that geralt lambert and eskel would all be very close (admittedly i havent read the books but i kinda get that vibe from the fandom so). this part about geralt telling his bothers about jaskier and then jaskier probably meeting them would have been an Important Moment.

4. sad eyes by james arthur (modern or canon works)

aright so im not sure if geralt has heard this one before. i can see it going both ways. its a possibility that jaskier wrote it at some point and then would kinda sing it softly when hes patching geralt up after a particularly rough hunt so its one of those where like geralts not quite sure what the song is but then he hears it on this album (cause say this was modern era and jaskier actually did release this album geralt would totally buy it after a few weeks and then realize how badly he'd actually fucked up) and is like shit thats what he was singing all along?? but anyway this one is essentially about how jaskier thinks geralt puts too much pressure on himself and all that stuff

You wear the burden World on your shoulders, babe So let me hold the weight I know you're hurting Deep as the coldest pain But this is the order sayin'

essentially jaskier can see through geralts bs and hes calling him out on it and wants him to just take care of himself for once (see: the scene in 1x05 when geralt says he cant sleep)

5. hoax by taylor swift (canon or modern works)

so this song begins the plethora of break up songs that jaskier wrote about geralt. this one would have been written some time after the incident, after jaskier has some time to reflect on the whole thing. i know that taylor wrote this song about enduring a toxic relationship, which kind of works if you think about the way that geralts treated jaskier and how jaskier interpreted it (but im not implying that their relationship was toxic or abusive or anything)

My best laid plan Your sleight of hand My barren land I am ash from your fire

jaskiers plan was to reinvent geralts image and geralt did not think that it was worth it. jaskier is just sorta his side kick (who gets him into trouble, as geralt points out) and geralt kicks him aside like he doesnt mean anything to him (like ash from a fire

Stood on the cliffside Screaming "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue But you No other sadness in the world would do

this is a little more literal with the screaming on the cliffside. jaskier wanted a reason to stay and geralt didnt want him to. jaskier knows that witchers dont feel emotions (or at least not like humans do) so hes been tricking himself into believing that geralt actually liked having him around, knowing that it was probably going to blow up in his face at some point. but he doesnt quite regret it, and doesnt want to be sad over anyone else.

6. naked by james arthur (modern or canon works)

this kind of goes along with hoax, jaskier probably wrote them around the same time. he’s admitting in this song that he would be willing to try to work it out with geralt, but geralt needs to change first (needs to actually communicate and let him in and all that stuff).

'Cause here I am, I'm givin' all I can But all you ever do is mess it up Yeah, I'm right here, I'm tryin' to make it clear That getting half of you just ain't enough

hes quoting geralts words back at him here ( “all you ever do is mess it up” is pretty similar to the line about shoveling shit), saying that all hes ever tried to do is be good and kind to geralt, but geralt hasn't really done the same in return and while jaskier may have dragged him into some things, geralt also needs to take responsibility for what hes done as well.

7. right where you left me (modern or canon works)

this starts the Real Sad Boy Hours songs. this would refer to how he felt pretty much right after, not knowing what to do because geralt had been so much a part of his life for so long:

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight" I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on, I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

this is kind of the processing of the event. and also the moment on the album where the audience would realize that this relationship that he's been telling about until now definitely ended. this song isn't super super emotional, its more a jumble of thoughts cause he didnt know what to feel after the breakup happened. although he didnt write it right after the break up, it was written much after as a looking back.

8. all too well by taylor swift (modern or canon era works)

(the link to this one is from a live performance because i like the emotion in this one better) so this song is not off of folklore (its off of red) but its such a powerful, painful breakup song that i had to include it in the lineup because it seems like something that jaskier would have written very very soon after the incident. the memories especially that she touches on in the song (driving upstate, dancing in the fridge light, looking at the photo album, etc) are all very powerful and real and i can see jaskier doing the same thing. again, if this were modern era i think that he might release this one as a single. theres so much to unpack in this song, this ones gonna be a little longer oops.

Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well

this clearly references the mountain scene. they were a pretty good duo until geralt blamed him for all his problems. and jaskier was effectively stuck on the top of a very dangerous mountain that he would have had to navigate down by himself.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

jaskier spent half of his life following geralt around, its likely that he doesnt know what to do with himself or his life now that he doesnt have geralt to follow around on adventures. he doesnt know what to do anymore (see the first song).

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah

this is more of a hope that jaskier has. he hopes that geralts held onto something of his that he left behind. maybe he left a shirt in one of roaches saddle bags (canon) or a notebook in their apartment (modern) that geralt just cant seem to get rid of. he would like to think that he had an impact on geralts life and that it wasn't just all for nothing. in the beginning, he wants geralt to be just as hurt as he is.

'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

this is a dig at geralt. he'd never had someone to follow him around on adventures before, much less a human. as far as we know it seems like jaskiers the first human that has even given him the time of day. this is jaskiers way of throwing it back in geralts face

9. impossible by james arthur (canon or modern works)

this would have also been written very soon after the incident. it is more jaskier being mad at himself for not seeing the signs than him being mad at geralt. it is almost like his admittance of the event and like hes finally accepting what happened.

I remember years ago Someone told me I should take Caution when it comes to love, I did And you were strong and I was not My illusion, my mistake I was careless, I forgot, I did

jaskier is someone who clearly falls in love (or at least screws around with people) easily so its likely that someone would have given him some advice along these lines once. but when he met geralt its likely that this caution went to the wind.

When all is done, there is nothing to say And if you're done with embarrassing me On your own you can go ahead, tell them

Tell them all I know now Shout it from the rooftops Write it on the skyline All we had is gone now Tell them I was happy And my heart is broken All my scars are open Tell them what I hoped would be impossible

this hints at the first song on the album. jaskier has no stomach for singing for audiences asking to hear about the adventures of geralt of rivia. this is his way of telling geralt that, almost as his punishment, he should have to deal with the people who ask why hes not traveling with his bard anymore, because jaskier has no intention of doing so. this is pretty brutal because (as we know) geralt doesnt really enjoy talking about feelings, or talking at all in general.

10. exile by taylor swift (modern or canon era works)

this is a fictitious conversation that jaskier wrote as occurring between him and geralt. it can be looked at either way but i think it makes more sense if bon iver is jaskier and taylor is geralt.

I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defendin' now? You were my town Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

this first chorus is from jaskiers perspective. note the use of “homeland,” as home becomes a theme on jaskiers album. in geralts version of the chorus the line instead is “youre not my problem anymore” which is probably what jaskier took the whole mountain thing to mean.

All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) All this time I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

(the () in this are geralt) this is jaskiers lamentations about how he didnt notice geralts abject discomfort in their relationship and also his regrets in not being able to remedy the situation.

11. illicit affairs by taylor swift (modern or canon works)

so this song is clearly and obviously about an affair. however, i have seen interpretations of the song where people view it as being in a relationship that is so intense and well hidden that in a sense it is almost like an affair, like in the aftermath you’re not even sure if it was real or you deemed it because there isnt really a trace of this other person anymore, and that is the way i think jaskier would have written this song.

And you wanna scream Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else

the dont call me kid, dont call me baby part would reference jaskiers humanity, he has a normal human lifespan at least in canon (very much unlike geralt) so geralt might brush him off as being young and stupid. jaskier would have made this album to show geralt that hes not being young and stupid, that this did screw him up, and hes suffering cause of it. kind of like a reality check or a slap in the face.

Don't call me kid Don't call me baby Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else And you know damn well For you I would ruin myself A million little times

the secret language would of course refer to geralt himself. hes a hard man to understand (especially cause half his vocabulary is grunts) and hes also a witcher. so jasper had to learn to understand him and now he has no use for that anymore. and the ending line about ruining myself. that would be jaskiers admittance that he would do it again, he'd do it all again, which comes back up in later songs.

12. safe inside by james arthur (canon era interpretation)

this is one that jaskier would have written maybe a week or so after the incident. the song itself deals with distance and coping with not being in someones life anymore, and i think that that is something that jaskier would struggle to cope with because hes not sure he wants geralt to be alone. this song is more for jaskier than for geralt.

Everyone has to find their own way And I'm sure things will work out okay I wish that was the truth All we know is the sun will rise Thank your lucky stars that you're alive It's a beautiful life

obviously geralt can take care of himself, but its kinda clear that he doesnt much like his life as a witcher (the part where he talks about them getting slow and killed). so this is kind of jaskiers way of almost reminding geralt that his life on the path is still beautiful and important now that he back by himself.

Oh, will you call me to tell me you're alright? 'Cause I worry about you the whole night Don't repeat my mistakes, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside If you're home I just hope that you're sober Is it time to let go now you're older? Don't leave me this way, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside

this is more jaskier worrying about geralt being by himself. he hopes that hes okay in the aftermath of this this and that hes taking care of himself still. because of course jaskier would write a whole breakup album but still write one song about how he hopes the person is doing well.

13. quite miss home by james arthur (modern era interpretation)

this song. oh my god. its so amazing. if you dont listen to any of these, at least listen to this one (actually im pretty sure no ones read to this point so if you have thanks). this song is kind of more along the same vein as the previous one, how jaskier misses geralt but its more for him than geralt. he would have probably written it at like 3am in a fit of tears and weakness, and debated long and hard about whether or not to put it on the album, but done it anyway because what does he have to lose? theres a lot to unpack here tho so this is going to be a longer one. (sorry)

I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside You're careful not to let the smoke inside I always tell you it's poison But I know it helps you take the edge off the day We get a drink before it's closing time The one on high street with the blinking sign All these memories feel poignant I won't be there to see the snow melt away

this is a very very clear picture of an event that seems to have happened a great many times, so much so that it seems like second nature. its like a little glimpse into what their life was before this incident. its intimate, but it still is melancholy.

Whoa I'm in another city I got nobody with me And it just really hit me

this is where jaskier is now, it provides some opposition. its like a culture shock almost, like hes so used to this intimate lifestyle with another person that its jarring to be by himself.

That I quite miss home And I miss you telling me To leave my shoes at the door 'Cause you just swept the floor And the dirt drives you crazy Yeah, I quite miss home 'Cause it feels like poetry When the rain falls down on the window While you're in my arms And we're watching the TV Yeah, I quite miss home

the key here is what jaskier is referring to as “home.” it's not the place, its geralt himself. all these memories center around him, not an establishment. (calling geralt “home” comes back in later songs.) again, this mosh of memories is like theres so many of them that its almost overwhelming but its stemming from jaskiers need to feel something other than lonely and hes craving this reality that hes lost.

14. my tears ricochet by taylor swift (modern or canon era works)

this is a song that really emphasizes jaskiers dramatic little shit tendencies. this is something that he wrote, trying to predict what geralts reaction would be if he found out that jaskier died. this is really just jaskier fantasizing that geralt didnt actually mean any of what he said and does still care about him. theres many lines in here that are jabs at geralt (if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? and Even on my worst day Did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me?), but i think this is the most important one:

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want Just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

this is again, jaskier referring to geralt as home. as seen in the last song, he clearly wants to go there, but he cant. this could also refer to where he grew up, which he cant go to either because his parents still view him as a disappointment (as seen in finally). jaskier saying he still talks to geralt is completely in character, he probably still curses him and the whole thing. but the part about geralt not being able to sleep at night and hearing his stolen lullabies is really hard hitting. jaskier likes to think that geralt wouldn't be able to sleep without his banter or his lute playing or something of that nature. over all its a very powerful song.

15. phoenix by james arthur (modern or canon works)

this is a fictitious apology that jaskier wrote from geralts pov, kind of what he wished that geralt would say, but knows that he won't.

Let me, let me begin Let me begin, with an I.O.U Who I owe everything to Lately, lately my friend Lately, you think I'm ignoring you But I've been trying to pull through All of the pain, I know you're looking down, down on me I could have been someone I hurt everyone Pushed away everyone who got near

in this “geralt” outlines what he did wrong, and that he didnt mea what he said at all. again, this is more for jaskiers benefit because he knows that even if geralt were to apologize to him, it wouldn't be to this extent.

16. this is me trying by taylor swift (modern or canon works)

this is jaskier trying to articulate the fact that hes trying to pick himself back up after everything, his way of showing his “healing process” and that he can do it, he doesnt need geralt (as the song shows, its not going very well)

And it's hard to be at a party When I feel like an open wound It's hard to be anywhere these days When all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel On the one screen in my town And I just wanted you to know That this is me trying (maybe I don't quite know what to say) I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

its showing that jaskier is having trouble enjoying things that he once did (like parties) because hes still so distraught over what happened with geralt, but at the same time he also wants to show geralt that he doesnt need him. it has a very i dont care kind of attitude, but jaskier at the same time is having a hard time showing geralt that hes doing okay, hence the “maybe i dont quite know what to say” which is out of character for the very talkative bard

17. happiness by taylor swift (modern or canon works)

this is more him convincing himself that things will be okay. he's clearly trying at this point to move on, but its proving difficult because geralt was his happiness for so long:

There'll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true There is happiness

he also repeats the line “havent me the new me yet” a few times, which i think is again him trying to convince himself that its going to get better and he will move on from it. but this line is the one that i think hurts the most:

No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him too

this implies that 1. he still thinks geralts a good man (not a monster) and 2. that he knows he hurt him to and doesn't know how to fix either of them. this is also kind of him giving up on how to fix it, but him recognizing they were both at fault is important for the arc of the story.

18. death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift (modern or canon works)

this is another song that is not off of folklore (its from lover), but i wanted to include it because it think it has a little bit of anger to it (especially in this live acoustic version that i linked) which i think that jaskier would feel a few weeks post incident in a fit of rage, like why am i still feeling this way? why did you think that this was okay?? and its right after happiness, which shows that his healing really isn't linear. there's many lines in this song that pertain to geralt and jaskier and i could talk about the whole thing but im not going to

But if the story's over, why am I still writing pages?

this i think is very jaskier. its so raw and like, i know this is over, why am i still writing about it? why am i making an album about this? why should this still matter to me? its very angry and again, like many of the songs, like a slap.

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave up on me like I was a bad drug Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club Our songs, our films, united, we stand Our country, guess it was a lawless land Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust Tryna find a part of me you didn't take up Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

this part, especially if you listen to her sing it, (which i would HIGHLY RECOMMEND BTW) is very passive aggressive and the the last line is like quite sarcastic and downplays it, like, yes you put me through all of this, but i guess its *just* a thousand cuts. this really shows that in many ways geralt was a part of jaskiers life, and his sudden removal from it would have stung in many ways, and thats not something that you can get over quickly.

19. empty space by james arthur (modern or canon era works)

this song starts the beginning of jaskier getting over geralt. these last 4 songs would have been written much after the incident, after hes had time to think, but there's still this nagging in the back of his head thats like, well what if im being stupid and he is the one and im supposed to go back?

I don't see you You're not in every window I look through And I don't miss you You're not in every single thing I do I don't think we're meant to be And you are not the missing piece I won't hear it Whenever anybody says your name And I won't feel it Even when I'm burstin' into flames I don't regret the day I left I don't believe that I was blessed I'm probably lyin' to myself again

this is more what jaskier wants to be, not what he actually is. he thinks that hes over geralt, but hes not (the chorus gets into it more but im not going to talk about it here, but it essentially says “only you can fill this empty space”) clearly jaskier is further along in his healing process, but hes still having second thoughts. he wants to be over him, but he knows hes lying to himself, very deep down.

20. coney island by taylor swift (more modern era interpretation)

this is the true moving on song. it’s still laced with memories and speculation, but it puts clear distance between the two of them, much more so than empty space does because it lacks the longing. it just shows things for what they are.

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

its apologetic, but nothing more than that. it dwells more on what could have been rather than what he wants it to still be.

The question pounds my head What's a lifetime of achievement If I pushed you to the edge? But you were too polite to leave me And do you miss the rogue Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

this is interesting because it addresses their immortality and how they've been together for years and also the way in which they left things (paradise). but it also implies that things were on the downfall. and the last two lines about forgiveness is interesting because it then calls geralt “too wise to trust me and too old to care” meaning its more a wish of jaskiers rather than something he knows geralt will do.

Were you waiting at our old spot In the tree line By the gold clock Did I leave you hanging every single day? Were you standing in the hallway With a big cake, happy birthday Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? A universe away And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your name

these are all very specific, very intimate moments that would clearly mean something to geralt. and it further implies that jaskier is uncertain if he actually made geralt feel appreciated when they were together. but again, its more what could have been rather than what jaskier wanted it to be, which is a nice segway into the last two songs.

21. new years day by taylor swift (modern era interpretation)

this is another one not from folklore, this song is the closing track on reputation, but i like the nostalgia of it so i decided to include it (and it also has good parallels to the last song). initially jaskier intended for this to be the last song on the album, but decided to add another one last minute (and we will get into why). this song is more jaskiers muted longing to still be with geralt, albeit in the far future.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before but Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

this interpretation is very much like the actual songs interpretation: the desire to stay with someone through the unexciting parts of life, like cleaning up after a party on new years day. additionally, wanting to start something new with someone (being there with them past the midnight kiss and actually starting the first day of the year with them). additionally though, there is the line of “dont read the last page” which refers to the last song on the album, which we will get to.

Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

this is more jaskiers reality. hes torn between holding onto these memories and hopes and actually facing reality. he wants to hold on to geralt, but he also kinda wants to move on. and the last line about the laugh, thats more jaskiers own hope, he hopes that he will come across geralt again and things will work themselves out.

22. the 1 by taylor swift (modern era interpretation)

the decision to make this song the last one on the album was a very last minute decision, and it was written significantly after the rest of the songs. the reason for this was without this last song, the album ends on a note of hope “Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere” but this last song is more of a reality check and acknowledgment that what's done is done and that it will never be again.

I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit Been saying "Yes" instead of "No" I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

this refers to the fact that its been some time since the whole thing and jaskiers kind of changed a little bit. he claims hes doing good, and maybe is going to try out a new career (since the first song references wanting to put music down for awhile). seeing geralt at the bus stop is a reference to cardigan where he says “chasing shadows in the grocery line” where hes not actively looking for geralt anymore and it doesnt upset him that he didnt see him.

I guess you never know, never know And if you wanted me, you really should've showed And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow And it's alright now

this is jaskier saying that hes almost glad that it happened because it gave him a new perspective and it was a learning experience. he also says that its alright, which is the second time that hes said hes okay, which probably means he isnt completely, but hes much closer than he was on the rest of the album because hes not still looking for geralt at every turn

I have this dream you're doing cool shit Having adventures on your own You meet some woman on the Internet and take her home We never painted by the numbers, baby But we were making it count You know the greatest loves of all time are over now I guess you never know, never know And it's another day, waking up alone

this is jaskier acknowledging the fact that geralt has probably long since moved on with his life, either with other romantic people or with his life entirely (the first time he does this on the album). he says that while their love or friendship was unconventional it still was definitely something (implying that it may have been one of the greatest loves of his life). and the waking up alone part references quite miss home and being by himself, but it isnt sad, its just a fact at this point.

But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one

this is the part where we see that jaskier has grown. hes recognized that his wanting to be with geralt was never anything more than a fleeting wish or a moment that couldn't last. but he knows that it had potential and it could have worked but it didnt and thats okay. in the last chorus the pennies line is “rosé flowing with your chosen family” which implies that he and geralt were close enough to know each others family (chosen or real), meaning that it meant something. and he wouldn't have minded a long term relationship with geralt, but its not what happened.

in new years day jaskier says “dont read the last page” this song is that last page. part of him still doesnt want geralt to know that hes put aside the hope of it working because he wants to still keep himself open for geralt, but knows that its not healthy and ultimately he needs to move on. hes essentially giving geralt the choice: remember jaskier as wanting to get back with him (since the last line of the album would have been “please dont ever become a stranger who's laugh i could recognize anywhere” or let him have the knowledge that jaskier is done with him (since the official last line of the album is “but it would have been fun if you would've been the one”)

anyway thats jaskiers breakup album. i put way too much effort into this. and if you actually read through the whole thing, thank you and please let me know what you think!! if you use this for fics or have your own interpretations please please tag me, id love to see!!

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #wow this took so long #literally so long #id recommend listening to the songs tho theyre all kinda vibey #there's like a million songs i could have used but i liked these ones cause i think they have a very nostalgic vibe #also dont get me wrong jaskier would also eventually release some sones like uhh #truth hurts by lizzo #like very fuck you breakup songs #but this is him being sad first #anyway im literally only posting this cause witcher anon said they wanted to read it #i hope you like it my dude

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