#only after going home and reflecting did the impact of playing it again really hit me

[tizzymcwizzy]

I MADE A ZINE FOR ONE OF MY FINAL PROJECTS!! man this took me a long ass time,, but it's done!!!!

this story is based on a memory from my senior year of highschool, where during the second to last art club of the year i played my friend's violin after not playing the instrument for around 4 years

[ottawacharge]

hello pals! here is transcript ft photoshoot shots ‼️ @ohe-ohe @verb925

If Marie-Philip Poulin is the legend, Laura Stacey is the superstar. Where one is soft-spoken, reflective and intensely magnetic, the other is intuitive, forthcoming and absolutely electric. As they shatter records in their sport and lead change far beyond, these world-class athletes are writing a page of history, together.

At first, they fought it. Centralized in Calgary with the national team for months before being thrown into the pressure cooker in PyeongChang, Poulin was the seasoned captain and Stacey was vying for a spot on the roster for what would be her first Games. They shared teammates and friends and were apprehensive about upending the intricate and delicate alchemy it takes to win. They did everything they could to push their feelings out of their minds, all the while finding every way possible to spend time together. "There were so many emotions, and we just got very close during that time. It was a kind of snowball effect," Laura explains.

At the Olympics, Team Canada ultimately fell to the US to take home silver medals. Devastated, the pair parted ways. Laura went home to Toronto and Marie-Philip to Montréal. They didn't see each other and tried not to text. But hockey is a cyclical sport in which every ending yields a new beginning, so when the Canadian Women's Hockey League (CWHL) started up again in the fall, Poulin returned to Les Canadiennes de Montréal and Stacey to the Markham Thunder. "The first real moment was when we played against each other in Montréal," Stacey says. "We were still talking, and we knew there was something between us. After the game, she followed our team bus back from the rink, picked me up at the hotel and took me back to her apartment. Her parents were there, and I met them for the first time. It all felt really serious. When I asked her, she said she was done fighting it."

As it turns out, what came as somewhat of a surprise to Laura was anything but unexpected to Marie-Philip's mom, who'd understood the moment she saw her daughter look over at Laura at Canada House back in South Korea. A mother knows: Marie-Philip and Laura had found home.

At their next Olympics in Beijing in 2022, Team Canada triumphed, and Poulin cemented her legend by becoming the only player -- female or male -- to score in four straight Olympic gold medal games.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the greatest of all time, although she flashes a reluctant wince when she hears herself referred to as such. In her home province of Québec especially, she is a beloved, virtually untouchable figure. She is the quintessential sports hero -- wholly exceptional and genuinely approachable. Despite her countless appearances and endless interviews, she's always remained very discreet about her personal life, the furthest thing from a celesbian one would ever imagine. Only her most intimate circle (and perhaps her most avid fans) would have noticed two-time Olympic medallist and three-time world champion Laura Stacey flow seamlessly into her public life and crack open the window ever so slightly. But when they each posted sets of their idyllic engagement photos on Instagram in May 2023, their low-key romance made national headlines. "We just wanted to be ourselves, and we didn't realize how much of an impact the photos were going to have. They really blew up!" says Marie-Philip. Laura adds: " When we first posted we were engaged, people didn't even know we were together, so it hit us a little harder. But the way everyone has welcomed us is amazing. So many athletes feel uncomfortable coming out. For us, it happened organically. And there's so much positivity in the way everyone supports us."

That summer, Mark Walter Group and sports trailblazer Billie Jean King announced the establishment of the Professional Women's Hockey League (PWHL) and six charter franchises. For women's hockey players, it was the culmination of a dream after years of struggle. A month later, PWHL Montréal confirmed it had signed three-year deals with goaltender Ann-Renée Desbiens and forwards Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey. "I didn't want to sign and play in Montréal as a package deal because the team wanted to get her for sure," Stacey admits. And she made that very clear to the team's management. "The conversation went so well, but it was still scary for me because I knew I had something to prove." Since then, her intensity, heart, skill and dazzling plays have put any doubts to rest. "Looking back on these past few months, I can say it's been amazing."

When the puck dropped on the team's first-ever game on January 2, 2024, Laura scored her very first goal in the league and unintentionally went viral. It all happened in a split second: drive to the net, snipe, celly. The subsequent shot of her marking the moment with Marie-Philip, which became one of the most viewed photos from the PWHL, was swiftly reposted on X with the caption "score a goal and celly with your fiancé," prompting user MarcusA9393 to pointedly (read: homophobically) ask where the said fiancé was in the crowd since he "didn't see him behind the glass." Then came an impeccable reply that turned Marcus' mudslinging into an incandescent ray of sheer queer joy: "Her fiancée is #29 poulin. She's gay, Marcus."

The floodgates opened, and in no time there was a tidal wave of "She's gay, Marcus" bracelets, apparal of all sorts, stickers and fan art. Sellers started offering Stacey and Poulin's hockey cards as a pair. Did she realize her love would be the first person to throw herself in her arms? "No, we had no idea! It all went so fast. But what are the chances?" It was an instance that opened their eyes to the fact that there was a place for them as a couple and as professional hockey players. "We realized it was welcome. That respect for us together and as individuals has helped us open up a lot more. Our teammates, our coaching staff, our fans all support us. And Montréal has embraced us as a couple in a beautiful, crazy way," Stacey reflects. Her fiancée concurs: "At first, it felt like a lot after the engagement photos, but we took a step back and we saw we could connect with people. We quickly learned that it helps people be themselves. Fans are so happy to show us their bracelets and t-shirts and ask us to sign the photo. That connection happens because they feel they can be themselves around us. They cheer for us together, and that's very emotional for us."

Even so, there's a paradox, since they both make very conscious efforts to keep their hockey lives separate despite their matching collections of Olympic gold and silver medals and world championship titles. They don't have adjoining spaces in the dressing room; they don't room together on the road; they don't sit together when travelling with the team. Does that benefit them? The team? "That's actually something we take a lot of pride in," says Poulin. "When we get to the rink, we're there to work: to play hockey and win. There's a time and place for everything." Laura echoes the sentiment: "It's about respect for our teammates. When they're taping their stick and getting ready, they're not there for us as a couple. They want teammates who are ready to go to war with them. We're there to do the best job we can. If people want to spend time with us as a couple, they can come over for dinner."

Meanwhile at the rink, without getting deep into the the analytics, the sometimes linesmates ended the regular season tied as PWHL Montréal's highest scorers with 10 goals apiece (23 points for Poulin, 18 for Stacey) and proved to be a game-changing duo. But what happens when the puck isn't bouncing their way? "We didn't start on the same line, but we ended up playing together as time went on. That was a challenge," says Marie-Philip. "We're leaders on the team and we're very competitive so we want to be perfect. When one of us misses a play, we definitely take it out on the other." Laura nods emphatically and laughs: "Sometimes I tell her ' I can't make that play! You know who I am!', and she'll go 'No! You have to if you're playing with me!'" When asked if they're harder on each other than their other teammates, they reply "110%" in perfect synch.

On top of the ebbs and flows in their respective games, having to execute perfectly at critical junctures can take a toll. "There's a lot of pressure, and I feel it. It's on me, on her and on us," says Poulin. Her demeanour is unfailingly even keeled and, in many ways, true to the player she's shown herself to be in competition, naturally offsetting the challenges and perpetually rising above. "The fact that the pressure makes me stay on the ice and practice with my partner -- that we're always pushing each other -- just makes us better and more balanced players and people."

And what about the physicality of the women's game? While there's nothing that makes the game unsafe, there's a lot of jostling, body checking and contact along the boards. "When one of my teammates gets caught, I get fired up. But when it's Laura, my heart drops. I want to react and it's hard not to, but I can't," says Marie-Philip. Do they get chirped? "Oh yeah, for sure," Laura confirms, just as Marie Philip points out: "Less now."

In season, they're never apart. "We do everything together, but we like it," says Marie-Philip, who then turns her entire body towards Laura, reaches out to her and quietly asks with a smile: "You like it, right?" Laura beams at her and replies: "I love it." All captivating affinity aside, the fact remains that they constantly put their bodies on the line, and the grind can wear them down. Camps started in October and the hockey didn't stop until June. The many highs and upward trend of prepare, prepare, prepare was so physically demanding that there were times when all they could do was crash.

Having all eyes on them means they've learned when to ease up and when to zoom out. "We get on the bus together when everyone else is leaving their significant other. We travel the world together. We get to hear fans in Montréal cheer for us both together. We fight and push each other in the hard moments but when we get home, we close the door and realize how lucky and how happy we are," says Laura.

The talk eventually turns to April 20 at the Bell Centre in Montréal, when PWHL Montréal and PWHL Toronto set the world record for a women's hockey game in front of 21,105 fans. For the players and for so many in the crowd, the pregame introductions unfolded into a moving "I see you" moment. Under the lights and amidst tens of thousands of twirling white rally towels, the players stood at the blue line to finally take in the resounding ovation they'd earned and deserved. It was a powerful acknowledgement of their excellence, their hard work, their sacrifices and their fight. Their win was everyone's win, in hockey and far beyond. On the ice, Marie-Philip and Laura were standing side by side. "The sentiment that we all win together and the feeling of success cemented the fact that we're here to stay. It's so much more than a hockey league. It's a movement," Laura says. When Marie-Philip Poulin's name resonated in the arena, a deafening roar rose all the way up to the rafters: "It was all surreal. It was so loud, and I thought 'Wow, we did it.'"

But like all things, hockey careers -- even the most brilliant ones -- come to an end. With respect to their sport, they're both adamant about leaving it in a better place than they found it. At the same time, with their wedding only weeks away, Laura Stacey and Marie-Philip Poulin are just beginning to shape their family legacy, one whose reach is much broader than hockey and touches on representation, visibility, equality, diversity, women's rights, 2SLGBTQIA+ rights and human rights. It's something we tend to take stock of in retrospect, but they're writing their own page of history today. "We want people to have the same opportunities we've been given to be themselves and chase the dream of whatever it is they love," says Laura. That authenticity has become their hallmark. "W're always ourselves," says Marie-Philip. "People remember how you made them feel, not what you did. And that only happens when you're truly yourself."

[canmom]

L’aventure de Canmom à Annecy - Mardi

or, the real Annecy starts here.

Tuesday was nuts! I saw so much stuff. I have cracked the code.

So, if you wanna know what Annecy is like, I can’t possibly present it better than La Cachette, who made this sponsor intro that plays before every movie...

Imagine everyone shouts “lapin!!!” when the rabbit appears and also when the rabbit gets eaten by the T. rex. But yeah: the sudden rainfall, the paper planes flying around, pop pop pop.

Anyway, Tuesday was crazy, I saw so many great movies, with some real surprises too! I wrote about them all below~

It’s interesting to think about like. Annecy traditions are this sort of free floating wave. The cohort of people who go to Annecy each year is constantly rotating (as different students graduate etc.) but there’s enough overlap to pass on these traditions, much like at schools with the ‘cool S’ and paper fortune tellers and other parts of, you could say, ‘child culture’.

Anyway, the day began with an expensive hotel breakfast (food is so expensive in Annecy) followed by queuing up for another crack at The Concierge...

Despite arriving around 2 hours early, we never stood a chance. Also it started raining. I did nevertheless manage to draw the queue in front of me, but it was very rough.

Failing to get in to that, my friend decided to queue for Lonely Castle in the Mirror while I went off to the VR hall again to make some early registrations. This time I watched I Took A Lethal Dose of Herbs by Yvette Granata from the USA.

This one was made in Unity (I could tell because it didn’t load properly at first and I was clipped into the floor and saw the default Unity skybox lmao) running on a Quest 2 via Quest Link. It puts you in the body of an anti-abortion activist who goes through post-partum psychosis and then, becoming pregnant again, attempts suicide, before finally accepting an abortion.

The presentation is essentially a non-interactive VR horror game. At one point your legs get eaten by hallucinations of demon babies; another part sees a room gradually transform into a deep-dreamed variant. As a horror film, it was kinda neat. The credits announced “based on a true Reddit story” which kind of knocked me flat lmao. It was entertaining, but I don’t think it really hit the impact intended.

After that, with bookings locked in for two more VR films, I scooted back to join my friend in the queue for Lonely Castle in the Mirror directed by Keiichi Hara, who I wrote about a bit back on Animation Night 137. This time Hara has A1 Pictures rather than mighty Production I.G. behind him, but it’s still absolutely a nicely drawn movie; the composite is more restrained than the above image might make you think.

This turned out to be a screening with only French subtitles, so I got some unexpected Japanese listening practice. I definitely didn’t pick up every detail, but between the visuals, the Japanese audio and the subs I was pretty much able to follow the plot. And a good plot it was! An assortment of teenagers are transported each month through mirrors into a mysterious castle, overseen by a girl in a wolf mask, which provides them all a refuge from their various difficulties at home.

Our viewpoint character is a shy girl who has gone hikikomori after bullying by a group of schoolgirls, and is hurting from the lost connection to another girl. As the story unfolds, we learn more about what happened to her and the other characters; meanwhile the kids hang out in the castle, gradually forming connections.

The castle is like... well diegetically there’s no question it exists, but it’s the kind of magical thing that reflects the character’s emotional struggle. The climax of the film involves a wolf stalking the castle and devouring the children, which is basically a suicide metaphor, and Kokoro going into the castle to attempt to save everyone.

Even with French subs, I ended up enjoying this movie a lot.

Following this my brother came into town on his way to Portugal for a family holiday next week. I met up with him and we had some tasty noodles. We split up again, him going to check out some of the old buildings of Annecy, me going back to the VR room...

where I discovered that if an Annecy juror shows up to watch a VR film, your slot gets cancelled, so I didn’t get to see From The Main Square. But I did get to see Shadow by David Adler and Ole Bornedal from Denmark and the UK.

This one turned out to be really fucking good. It’s an incredibly intense semi-interactive movie in which you play the part of a bomber navigator on a morning raid. Your job is to confirm the target so the pilot can blow it up, but with the fog, the sea, the movement of the plane and battle outside, it’s a lot easier said than done.

This film does a fantastic job of building tension in the runup to the attack. The interactions between your character and the pilot are acted very well, and the sea and mist outside - rendered in Unreal - is properly sketchy to fly through. You confirm the target by using head tracking to look at a yes/no input, and I was fully caught up in trying to make sure we hit the right building and didn’t get shot. Such a tense film, and honestly kind of a vindication of the VR format. I hope there’s something else as good in there.

Following this I scooted over to see the short films collection 4. This turned out to be a great choice: there were very few misses and a lot of plain great films. Also I guess this was like where they put all the gore and nudity lmao, but who knows, I’ll have to see other short film selections.

Haljina za finale dir. Martina Mestrovic presented a sweet picture of the day in an old lady’s life, in which she dyes her dress black and reminisces about the past.

Salvation Has No Name dir. Joseph Wallace was a really cool stop-motion film, making really creative use of old woodcuts along with its puppets, about a refugee who washes up on the shore of a paranoid village and a prevaricating priest who tries to protect her, tries to have sex with her, and takes her newborn child and pushes her away; it’s all presented by a circus troupe who are also the villagers attempting to cover their ass for what they did. There’s some really neat devices of presentation - e.g. the refugee woman speaks English same as the villagers, but diegetically they’re speaking different languages. The metaphors are pretty on the nose, but it’s really nicely shot and tense.

L’Ombre des Papillons dir. Sofia El Khyari is a more abstract one, a very beautifully painted erotic dream with a lot of morphing and transformations (particularly things turning into butterflies). Really nice use of texture in this one.

Wild Summon dir. Saul Freed and Karni Arieli is where things got really nuts. This is like. The most photorealistic hard vore guro film I’ve ever seen lmao. So like the idea is it’s like, a nature documentary on the life cycle of salmon, with all the beautiful shots of landscapes and rivers you’d expect, but with the twist that all the salmon are anthropomorphised to humans in wetsuits and masks (as you see above). These anthro salmon then die horribly in all the ways salmon tend to, at the hands of both animals and humans.

Our main character is a salmon who gets tagged with a tracker by some scientists; this allows her to be thrown back in the water when caught by a fishing trawler for example. The voiceover is by Marianne Faithfull doing an effective old posh british lady voice (I sorta wondered if it was Judy Dench). If this was an actual nature documentary it would be a really beautiful one, but the anthro thing adds an amazing surreal edge.

This one was filmed in the UK, and it’s definitely leaning on the big VFX industry we have over here. Absolutely fascinating film honestly.

I’m Hip, solo animated by American John Musker and comped/edited by Talin Tanielian, was also a delight. Just four minutes of really strong lively traditional animation as a cat sings a self-aggrandising song before getting chased out of town; old-school in a good way.

Daug Geresnis dir. Skirmanta Jakait was the one that lost me, though I imagine if I saw it with English subs I might get more out of it (I saw it in Lithuanian with French subs). I really like the visual style, but the film was a sort of incomprehensible chain of surreal images and I didn’t really know how to put them together.

Drijf dir. Levi Stoops from Belgium wrapped up this collection. This one leans hard on the grossout humour - I’d compare it to something like Savage Death Valley or to a certain extent Lloyd’s Lunchbox. A man and woman are stranded on a calm sea, rowing around on a log, suffering a series of increasingly awful injuries in their misadventures. It’s definitely a ‘bodies, fucked up right?’ sorta movie, and it was a fun bit of black humour, hearing the audience go ‘ooooh’ when something nasty happens.

I had set my reservation today for ‘The Soldier’s Tale’ but I had planned things out really stupidly and had no time to say goodbye to my brother and see that film. Instead we went round the comic shop I talked about last time. It was good to see him and he seems to be having a good time on his trip across Europe.

Speaking of brothers...

I decided to take a chance on Four Souls of Coyote dir. Áron Gauder. I didn’t know much about this going in, but the brief description on the site made it sound a little preachy, so I didn’t set my hopes too high. I was so wrong, this movie was actually maybe the highlight of the day!

This is a Hungarian movie based on (nonspecifically...) Indigenous stories, with the framing device of the story being told by an old man at the Standing Rock pipeline protests. The bulk of the film is an origin story for the world: Old Man Creator - not the top god in this situation - creates Turtle Island and fills it with creatures. In a dream, he creates Coyote, and mistreats him at once; Coyote, an obligate carnivore in a world that does not yet know death, steals the creation mud and creates humans

So most of the film then tells how, through a series of events, Coyote ends up complicating the idyllic scenario by introducing death into the world, and sexual reproduction, and inspiring the creation of lightning and fire before being betrayed by the humans he created, eaten, and on his final life, driven away. It’s a really interesting sort of mythological schema: even Old Man Creator doesn’t know the why of it all, and there’s this kind of idea that a lot of the way things work happened not by design but by mistake (perhaps according to the ineffable design of , and once something is created it’s irrevocably part of the world, so we just have to make do.

I have no idea what’s based on mythology and what was created by the Hungarians, but what makes this all work is the incredible animation. This is just a really really strong work of traditional animation, with fantastic colour and compositing to boot. It might genuinely be the best looking film I’ve seen this whole festival so far, which is nuts. There are all sorts of characterful touches in every shot, the magic is presented in a really elegantly straightforward way, and the whole story unfolds with a compelling degree of intricacy and tension, setup and payoff.

Coyote, the famous trickster, is certainly the main character of this movie. He’s a fascinating character; arrogant, quick to lie and in love with his own cleverness but also we can see his pride comes from the rough circumstances of his creation, where he’s chewed out by his creator from the get go and everyone pushes him away.

The second act of the story sees Coyote free the imprisoned lightning (who’s like. a kind of dragon creature ig?) and go across the sea, discovering the Europeans, who in this story come from the discarded clay that Coyote used as a first attempt at humans; seeking revenge, Coyote invites the Europeans back to Turtle Island, not realising the level of destruction they will bring, or that they will chain him up and call him a dog. Spending the last of his four lives, Coyote has a final face turn where he tries to save the humans.

There’s a bunch to be said about this movie, and once it gets a release I am dying to show it on Animation Night. Its treatment of gender for example feels a bit too rigid and traditional, with the archetypal Man and Woman as the main human characters. The Europeans are presented as getting their power from enslaving Lightning, which is a neat way to make the story centre on what happens on Turtle Island; however, the parable-like telling kind of ends up feeling a bit too simplified where the Europeans show up and destroyed the single (kinda Plains in visual presentation) Indigenous society with overwhelming military force, which is like... not really how it all played out, but it works for the presentation of this movie, where the invasion is kind of a coda to the main story.

The ending of the movie sees the workers, ordered to bulldoze a mountain for the sake of a pipeline, climb out of their bulldozers and join the protestors, with the CEO lady in charge impotent to stop them. In our more depressing reality reality the cops showed up and drove away the protestors by overwhelming force.

I have this much to say though because the movie was so good. But tbh this is just a British girl’s impression. I really want to get Araña’s opinion on this one.

Not done yet, I went to see the student films, block 2. This turned out to be another amazing time: at the big screen in Bonlieu, even this late, loads of people were there and it was the most Annecy showing yet; so many paper planes flying about. Most of the students who made the films were present in the audience and after each film stood up so we could applaud them.

The films were also really good! There are some crazy talented animation students in this world.

Havnesjefen dir. Mia L. Henriksen, Konrad Hjemli (Norway) told the story of a swan known as the Harbourmaster, known for attacking boats in the Norwegian town of Os, who was put down after he started putting humans at risk. It tried a number of ambitious things with the animation: Roger Rabbit-like compositing into live action backgrounds, and Creature Comforts-like animating characters based on real interviews with random people. The result was rough, but pretty cute and effective.

Ressources humaines dir. Titouan Tiller, Trinidad Plass, Isaac Wenzek (France) was a wonderfully dark stop motion film about a guy going to have his body recycled into a chair. It really plays up the awkward everydayness of the scenario, with the documentary camera wandering around and the cheerful patter of the receptionist; the result was great.

Makulatour dir. Tim Markgraf (Germany) was fascinating: a bunch of fluid motions filmed through a microscope (I think??) edited to music. Absolutely absorbing, I have no idea how he did it.

Deniska umřela dir. Philippe Kastner (Czech Republic) is an autobiographical story about a boy whose dog dies, and how he comes to terms with it through art. It’s got a really nice monochrome textured style that made me think of paint on velvet.

Bottled Insects dir. Yuxin Gao in Japan was where things got really nuts. This is traditional animation but not at all anime, incredibly textured and shaped creatures that sort of make me think Masaaki Yuasa and sort of make me think HYLICS. It portrays a girl who collects weird creatures, building up a massive wall of them in her room; it has an ambiguous mood (the blurb says it’s about her losing her sense of self) but a strong flow and just wild imagery. I loved this one.

Hobune dir. Jass Kaselaan (Estonia) was... I’m not entirely sure what the deal with this one was. Lots of odd military imagery and concrete housing blocks. A horse falls over and gets up. The drawing was very rough and line boil-y. But yeah idk I didn’t get it, it’s another one of those ‘disconnected surreal images’ type of ones.

La Nuit Blanche dir. Audrey Delepoulle was great though. Gorgeous paint-y textures and use of lighting, it shows people desperately trying to preserve their crops with burners as frost closes in. It made me think of Frostpunk, but much more grounded. Really tense and beautiful.

Passagers dir. Celia Hardy from Belgium used a similar technique to The Wolf House, animating by painting onto walls and painting over each previous frame, mixed with stop motion. There wasn’t a lot of narrative but there was definitely a lot of very inventive movement, and in general it was really fun to watch.

Priyo Ami dir. Suchana Saha (India) was an abstract one, heavily textured paint, lots of morphing shapes... I can’t remember a lot of what actually happened in it besides the cunnilingus lol. But it definitely felt very personal and sincere, and I respect putting such a film in front of everyone.

Sewing Love by Yuan Xu (Japan) took the metaphor of a partner filling a void in your life to a very literal sense. A boy meets a girl who fills the gap inside him, but when she leaves, he becomes desperate, and restrains her, eventually physically sewing her inside his body. But inside her body she retreats into a tiny ball where she grows new butterfly wings and eventually hatches out. Big metaphors! But the animation was completely wild, with all sorts of morphing and weird perspectives, I can’t even imagine what the process must have been like. I didn’t like this one as much as Bottled Insects because the metaphor felt a bit overbearing, but I was really impressed by the animation.

My last film of the night was Unique Time dir. Yu-Jin Oh (South Korea). This film was crazy technically good, like you could tell me that Studio Mir made this and I’d believe you. The scifi premise is that there are androids who holographically take on the appearance of someone, used for all sorts of purposes; our main character is an android who develops a glitch causing them to create a unique face and identity. A photographer jumps on this as a chance to become relevant again, and the android’s face is soon plastered all over the city... and inevitably a line of mass produced clones is produced. ‘Jay’ (the name assigned by the photographer) is deeply disturbed to realise they’re still just a product, and gets in a very public fight with the photographer; afterwards, they are factory reset, but the glitch still persists... It’s definitely well within the familiar territory of cyberpunk stories, but the execution carries it - it’s hard to believe this is a student film.

By the time all this was done I had to walk back because the buses had become very infrequent, but damn, so worth it. What an amazing day. It took me more than two hours to write all this up lol, between that and catching up on sleep I’ve missed the whole of Wednesday morning rip.

Time to get out there and see some more films!! Annecy is amazing I really wish I could take you all down here.

[titanicfreija]

Your turn

"Guardian."

"Hu- Caia- Empress. Sunny's not on this frequency, it's my home one--are you spying on us??"

"I know, and in some senses, yes. I intended to speak with you without Sunny."

Freija blinked at the speaker transmitting the message, then at Thomas, who was watching Freija as though she'd brought in the Crown of Sorrow.

"Okay, so, gimme a sec, I guess...." She fixed the transmission to an earpiece and went to her room. "I'm gonna be honest, I don't think I like this."

~

"Her interference occasionally obscures your answers, and I am curious about this brush with your Final Death."

She almost laughed. "Light within, that sucked. I was stupid and I got caught by these eight Colossi and a few of them were trying to kill me. Like one was really trying, she... Well I guess she actually did just, later. But I lived long enough to walk away and get back to the Light!"

"Were you frightened?" asked Caiatl.

Freija blinked at the air as if Caiatl could see her. Again with the fear thing. "I... You're gonna be so disappointed, but as scared as I got, it was only for Sunny. I knew she could get Rise to get me up but it was going to be a hellacious trip and I knew they'd be looking for her, whatever got me, so if I died, it would leave her vulnerable. I knew I could die, and so could she, but... I dunno. Only really scared me a couple of times. I thought one of them was gonna torture me until she came out. That fucker was trying to kill me by pretend accident."

The silence on the other end made Freija want to speak but she'd learned by now...

"Why did you offer aid to the enemy?"

She knew that was coming. And as much as she expected it, she still couldn't answer "I don't know. I couldn't tell you when I did it, I can't tell you now. I wasn't killing people that day and someone screamed for help. I couldn't leave them."

Once again, an extended silence passed. "You did not fight your captors?"

Freija's cheeks burned when she blushed. The little snitch just told her everything, huh. "Did Sunny demand answers, is that what this is?"

"In fact, no. I do. Sunny could not answer the others and she did answer this one, but I want to hear if she was correct."

The truth was, on reflection, it was easily one of the dumbest things Freija had ever done. She had no idea why she put faith in them like that. She didn't mean to take her guns off at all. She didn't even try to run. Every step of that was mistake after mistake. "I'd been playing nice. Hoped they would, too, if I stayed nice. They did. Mostly. Still kinda mad at that one fucker, but pretty sure her teammates are gonna kick her for me. One of them was on my side, I saved their people." She paused and recalled some of it, rolling her shoulders as they felt an echo of the impact. "I mean, even the ones trying to kill me didn't try very hard. I know how easy it would have been, it's not like I've never been killed with one good slam into a wall, much less two. Really didn't make this better." The Guardian's stomach sank as she recalled a few of the times and remembered how close this was. They really decided to let her walk away when they really didn't need to. She knew they were defectors, too, expecting loyalty to old codes.... "Actually, this is a lot worse than I remember it feeling at the time, I think I need to go." She hardly noticed her legs going from beneath her, forcing her to sit in the floor against her bed. "I wasn't scared then, but I am now," she explained. "I'm gonna--"

"Guardian." If Caiatl minded, it didn't sound like it. Really, it just sounded like she was trying to get Freija's attention, like she wasn't on comms.

The way she hit the ground, the way her vision kept going dark, the stars, her head... "I'm sorry, I just--"

"Guardian." A demand for attention this time. It helped. The authoritative voice caught her and held on.

"...Yes, ma'am...?" Freija whimpered.

"The event has passed. You are alive and well because you handled this deadly situation with clarity and wisdom."

Freija could have choked on her tongue. "I didn't! I handled it with-- I just forgot to be scared, I didn't handle shit! I just forgot!"

Her usually gruff voice carried a note of compassion that reminded the Guardian of Sunny. "You didn't forget, Guardian, you put it out of your mind. You knew what you had to do. You succeeded. This reflection is bringing you harm because when your mind enters the memory without the pressures of combat, lacking objective and intention, you feel the fear and pain. You are sensitive, and thus does this overwhelm. The event is over. You are safe now. You survived. Remind yourself of this when you are consumed by these terrors."

Freija curled up small, hardly feeling her size. "Thank you," she whimpered again. "I'm gonna keep a recording of that clip for later. I'll need to hear it again."

A smile came through when she said, "This is acceptable. You are young," the empress said, now sounding tired and more like Thomas. "This stability will require work to master, but now you know what work to do. Tell me what happened."

"Well... I helped. And got caught. And got my ass kicked. And I walked away."

"Guardian."

"Uh... It feels weird to remember. I definitely got concussed, there's probably some rattled memories."

"Guardian. Why do you hide this story?"

"It's fucking scary! I'm proud in the face of it but peeling it back even a little, I nearly fucking died! Sunny could have been killed! I put my fucking last life in the hands of a people I slaughter for fun!"

"Yes. You did as well as could be expected. Though I do wonder if fleeing would have been better."

"I mean, yeah," Freija mumbled, sniffling. "Unless they found me. No, I was just... We were out sparrowing, and our ship got raided and razed, 'cos we fucked up and left it out. So we had to go into the Dark. And we broke into a crashed ketch and stole some parts, one of them was even mine. And we ran. Not a shot fired. No one killed. I've done it before but not like that. It was better than trying to stand and fight, I'm actually not that great at fighting, I'm just persistent."

"Who called you that?"

"Thomas. Roommate. But that means I couldn't risk it. Had to keep my head down. And I did!" She let a leg down and breathed a sigh of relief. "So we got out of there-- oh! I'm sure Sunny told you, but I can read! An old Earth language! We think her... My.... The mother of the body I'm using. She spoke it first and I speak it and read it! We found it while we were there. But so .... We got to the space port, and I broke in and looked around and the Shadow Legion showed up, and we went to the hangar to work on my ship while they were doing their systematic thing. And... I feel so stupid telling you because it feels stupid that I did it. Because I heard this huge noise, thunder driving a ship right into the earth kind of noise, shrieking metal... And I hear some fear cries, people running, and then it's quiet. You know the quiet after shit happens. Creepy kind. And I heard this... You know what calling for help sounds like. It's universal. So... I heard it. And I don't know... I just... Started walking. And I could hear her down there, so... I dunno. I wasn't really planning ahead. I just... Saw what I had to do and did it. Same way I get on the battlefield, gotta do this, get it done, move on, get it done. Task at hand, unstick the stuck legionary. So I did. And then it became hide, which I did, and then rescue the other ones, which I did. Sunny didn't want me to. It's like I forget to care. Like nothing else is important. I don't know, I just can't leave people like that. I don't leave much to scream in pain when I'm done, either, and if I'm not the one that did it, I'm not big on cleanup. This... It wasn't even different except that I wasn't killing people that day. It was stupid."

"Your actions were not well thought out, but I do not think you were stupid," Caiatl told her. "I think your nobility is just that. I find this to be honorable on your part."

The Guardian didn't know what to say for several seconds, until she slowly remembered, "Thank you."

"I understand that Sunny did not take such a gracious view of your actions, and I knew that this message would not be delivered effectively in her presence. I do think there were many tactical mistakes."

"Yes, ma'am."

"But not only do I believe now that you made good decisions, but that your reasoning at the time was sound. You had only a little reason to believe they would harm you. One bad actor should not and did not change your mind."

"She almost did," Freija grumped. "I was too weak to fight by then. And unarmed, I'm still mad about that, I put my fucking guns down, how stupid do you get?"

"That would fall under a tactical mistake," chuckled Caiatl. "You did well, Guardian, and both you and your Ghost survived because of it. Sunny told me you were proud of yourself."

"It was just for surviving the beating, but you're making me feel all kinds of better about it, now," the Guardian gushed. "Sunny about cussed me. She did cuss me, really, but not to my face, she just went to tell her little clubs."

"She feared for you," Caiatl explained. "I find it ironic that you each are hurt by the other's similar behavior-- both respond to fear with rage, and both are hurt when you are subjected to it. I think perhaps you should correct this behavior or this reaction. I will share this thought with Sunny as well."

Freija blinked at the air, never having spotted that before. "I knew I yelled at her, I didn't realize she does it at me, too. She doesn't yell, though."

"I have only witnessed some chiding, but you have made clear that you understand when she is angry with you and wants you to correct your behavior."

"Yeah. I didn't think she was scared for me, though. She could get me back up. She'd have to be careful for herself."

"Do you think she is unfazed when seeing you suffer?"

"I know she doesn't like it, but I didn't think it was fear," she objected. "She can heal me and rez, what's to fear?"

"She cannot heal damages to your psyche, Guardian. Mending a head wound will never be as rewriting a memory. She fears that each new wound will haunt in ways beyond scars and become a new cause of waking from slumber to call her name with tears in your voice."

"You didn't have to put it like that," Freija complained softly, slouching low.

"You should respect your Ghost's fears. We have seen Guardians who have taken too much damage, even in the face of immortality and indestructibility. Because of the immortality and indestructibility. You should learn to respect the anger as love or lead by example and train yourself to respond differently."

"Yes, ma'am."

[lacheri]

Okay so... you might not even take requests but I’ll give this a shot anyway bc I love everything you write. I fucked up at work big time today and I feel tremendously anxious and guilty. Which made me think... Levi scenario with gf reader messing up on the field? I know he’d prob be harsh af at first but maybe... some fluff in the end? ): only if you want ofc.

hi nonnie! sorry for taking a few days to write this! but I hope u like it <3 (sorry to hear about your bad day btw ):)

accidents and apologies

pairing: dom!Levi x sub!fem bodied reader

content: canonverse, impact play, mild choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex/creampie, oral (f receiving), some humiliation/degrading, reader is clumsy and Levi is mean, minors DNI

wc: 3.2k

Fat tears sat in thick clusters on the brim of your lash line, a hiccupping sob racking your body. You were as good as dead, having possibly made the biggest fuck up of your military career thus far. Titans seemed like ants in comparison, the fly that buzzes by your ear that irritates you to no end. Levi’s odm gear sat in pieces on the floor, and somehow this loomed over you like the Colossal titan, maybe even larger.

The polish container sat forgotten on your captain’s desk, the wipe slipping from your trembling hands. Your bottom lip quivered, your lungs filling with air quickly as you slumped to the floor next to the shattered metal. Your off duty position of being Levi’s assistant was practically over, it had barely even begun. You had begged for this job for weeks now, only a few days into being his helping hand, you reflected on how poorly of a job you’d done.

It wasn’t enough you had gotten Levi’s tea wrong this morning, adding sugar to the steaming mug, thinking he’d like a change in taste. He didn’t, immediately spitting the liquid out, cursing you into guilt on the spot. To try to make it up to the ravenette, while he was on his lunch, you sat at his desk and began to organize his paperwork by date of importance. You felt pride as you finished with the three piles of stacks, putting fresh ink in his pot for his quill. However, Levi was horribly furious to see what your regret had manifested into. How were you supposed to know he liked his documents organized by date of assignment, not what was most important?

This was the cherry on top, Levi leaving for dinner, mentioning that his gear did need some polishing. Surely, you wouldn’t fuck this up, he thought as he closed the door to his office behind him. How wrong the man had been though. Within minutes, your fingers became slippery, losing your grip on the cold metal as watched in horror as it clattered to the floor, breaking on impact. It didn’t make much sense, how could it have broken? Wasn’t the gear meant to outlast a titan’s grip? Especially Levi’s trusty gear, you couldn’t fathom how his gear was now laying in pieces on the floor.

You sucked back your sob as you heard the creek of the door, your heart falling straight down to the pit of your stomach. Of course Levi would be back before you recite your apology a thousand times over in your head. You heard the thud of his boots hit the floor as he walked over, seemingly calm.

“Oi, what are you doing on the floor?” he barked out, you could feel his presence looming from behind you.

You turned your head up, his face blurry from the rush of tears in your eyes, “Sir, I am so sorry.”

His grey eyes flickered in front of you, finally taking notice of his broken gear. His lips twitched in a deep frown as he sucked in air through his nostrils harshly.

“Get up, cadet,” Levi spoked venomously, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

You hurried to your feet clumsily, trying your hardest to quell your cries from your throat. You faced him, head downturned, attempting to steady your racing heart rate and the tremors in your bones. Whatever control you thought you had slipped from your grasp the second your captain’s lips parted.

“Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as you,” the harshness of his words kept your eyes on his boots, fresh teardrops rolling down your cheeks. Levi was not going to speak to the crown of your head though, and his hand gripped your chin to force your eyes up, looking directly into his own. “You’re going to look at me while I talk to you, understood?”

You nodded, but this was not what Levi was searching for, “Your words, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” it came out of your mouth as a squeak.

“You want to explain to me why my odm gear is broken?”

“It slipped,” you hiccupped, violently shaking under his fierce glare. “I couldn’t catch it in time. Captain, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he bemused darkly in disbelief. “This is the third time today you’ve fucked something up, and you’re just sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you were on the verge of hyperventilating as you stuttered your words out.

“Well, now you owe me new gear, and you’re going to personally pay for the expense,” Levi’s hand left your face as he backed away from you, sitting down at his desk.

You looked on in confusion, “Sir, I don’t have any money?”

“Then I guess you’re fired,” Levi tilted his head back as if bored now with the conversation. “You’re relieved of your military duties as well. We can’t afford to have someone as brainless as you in the Scouts.”

“Captain, please,” you raised your voice, arms wrapping around yourself to contain your shaking.

Levi’s eyes darkened, leaning forward to press his elbows on his desk as he leaned his head onto his intertwined fists, “Leave my office, now.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had no home to return to, having left it behind long before you joined the Training Corps. This was your life, your purpose, your friends were here. You finally felt like you had a place in the world here in the Scouts.

“I’ll do whatever I have to!” you begged, not moving a muscle. “Whatever I can do to stay!”

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?” Levi pushed onto his feet, striding over to stand right in your face as he spat. “Leave my fucking office, that’s an order!”

Your bottom lip trembled, and you felt so fucking pathetic but couldn’t stop yourself from one last attempt, “Please, sir. Don’t kick me out, please let me make it up somehow.”

Your brain took a moment to catch up with what had just happened as you were suddenly staring down at the wooden notches of Levi’s desk. He had grabbed your wrists in a fierce swiftness, pushing you face down, his hands now positioned against your spine to keep you in place. His right hand reached around to fumble with your belt, and your heart began to race for other reasons.

“Captain?” you stuttered, feeling him begin to pull off the belts stationed on your thighs.

“You think you can just beg me in that voice, looking like that, and expect me not to lose control?” his voice was thick with anger, but instead of fear, it tickled bouts of arousal in your lower stomach. “Answer me.”

“No?” it came out as a question, you pushed your thighs together as you felt a pulse run through your core as his fingers tickled the exposed skin of your lower stomach. “Sir, I’m confused, what’re doing?”

“Like you have no idea what you do to me,” Levi chuckled without humor. “You begged me to be my assistant even though you knew you weren’t going to be a good one. You think I wouldn’t notice, your little crush on me?”

It was true, so entirely true. Levi had been the object of your affection for such a long time now, taking every opportunity to get as close to the man as possible. If you were being honest with yourself, this fantasy of being bent over his desk was a constant distraction in your mind. He was right, you were shit at cleaning, you were probably the most clumsy person you knew, you really had no qualifications to be Levi’s aide, yet you still asked for the position.

“Then why’d you hire me, Captain?” the bratty words left your lips as it dawned on you, Levi had found you appealing regardless of your lack of qualities.

With a quick motion, your pants and panties were bunched around your knees, Levi’s palm meeting the now exposed skin of your cheek in a caress, “The same reason you’re fucking soaked right now, cadet.”

You stayed in position as Levi brought his other hand to your opposite ass cheek, fingers kneading the fat as he spread you open to his hungry view. He was right, you were dripping. His pointer finger ran down the seam of your ass, laying a soft touch to your hole, watching it flutter in excitement. He couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, removing his touch entirely.

You whined, pushing your bottom closer to Levi’s hands, desperate for his touch. Your hips were slammed against the edge of his desk, his fingers digging firmly into the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back together. You felt a jarring sting on your backside, yelping in response as you could make out the distinct imprint of each of his fingers.

“You want to show me you’re really sorry?” Levi’s voice was low and raspy as he soothed his palm over the reddened mark he had made. “Tell me after every slap.”

You were able to brace yourself this time as you felt the strike of his hand once more on your opposite cheek, unable to contain your moans at the contact. You squirmed as you felt removal of Levi’s touch leave you, only to bite down on your tongue harshly as he swatted the back of your thighs much harder than he had on your ass.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he spoke ruthlessly as another slap hit your thighs.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, gasping for air from the impact.

“Again,” his hand smacked the fat of your ass again, his other hand smoothing over the harsh red blotches against your thighs in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“‘M sorry!” you were whining, knuckles white from gripping the opposite edge of the desk as you arched your ass up into his hold. Part of you was genuinely shocked over how much you were enjoying this, thoroughly aroused mentally and physically.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. The handprints scattered across your lower half had his cock springing to life, hard and painfully erect. His hands traveled down to your pussy lips, using his thumbs to spread you open. Your hole was drooling, Levi let out a deep groan at the sight. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to have a taste.

You let out a sputtered moan as you felt the tip of your captain’s tongue lick a stripe from your hole to your clit. You pushed your hips further into his touch, thankful he resisted in shoving you back into the edge of the desk this time. His fingers held you open and apart, his taste buds rolling circles into your clit before returning back to your flitting opening, shoving his tongue in your walls. You could feel it fold in half, almost in a cupping motion as he bobbed his head, lapping as much as he could.

“Oh my God,” you whined, thrusting a hand behind you to grasp at his hair. His palms circled to the fronts of your thighs, digging his fingers into the fat as he pulled you somehow closer as he buried his face further into your dripping heat.

You were seeing stars, in between the mix of the pain and pleasure, your brain was completely empty. Levi’s right hand left your left thigh for a moment, coming back with a softer slap, inching his fingers to your center. His pointer finger swirled your clit relentlessly, and your breathing hitched as you were brought to even higher heights than before. His thumb joined not long after, pinching and pulling at your bud as you yelped.

You could feel the beginnings of your impending orgasm as Levi twisted and lapped your walls. The burning churn in your lower stomach became almost unbearable as Levi’s fingers worked faster at your bundle of nerves, full of purpose and intentions. Levi could feel the sudden change, your pussy clenching tighter and tight around his wet muscle. Your arousal was thicker, almost muskier as he inhaled through his nose, and Levi could swear he could drink from your core as if you were the finest of wines.

At the first blinding rush of pleasure, your body preparing itself for the intense promise of release, the ravenette removed all touch. You were gasping for air, your entire body’s nerves tingling uncomfortably. You were aching, desperate for anything.

“Look at you,” the return of Levi’s palm slapping your ass was welcomed with a smile on your face, thankful for any form of touch. “Falling apart that easy?”

You mumbled out a 'sorry', remembering his earlier warning. Apparently this was the word Levi was searching for, spinning you around and attaching his grip to your hips, slamming your sore ass on his desk, shoving his paperwork to the floor. Your eyes widened dramatically, seeing Levi’s cock fully exposed out of the zipper of his trousers. He was thick, his tip red and angry as he moved his fist over his length, a quiet groan leaving his parted lips as he relieved some of his own pent up arousal.

“Open,” he demanded, removing his hand from his dick, extending his palm to your pouty lips. You complied, letting your mouth loll open as Levi’s fingers pressed against your tongue, rolling them around to coat his digits.

He pulled them out with a pop from your lips, returning his now dripping hand to his erection, covering the entire member in your saliva. He gripped the backs of your knees after he deemed himself properly lubed up, dragging you right to edge as he positioned himself.

His grey eyes flickered up, fiery and full of lust, his voice hoarse, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you mewled, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the wood to steady yourself.

Without a moment of hesitation, Levi held your legs up as he slid his fat tip along the slick of your folds. It was so wet, so sloppy, you couldn’t contain the whimper leaving your lips as he pressed into your sopping hole. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul attempt to leave your body as he slid in, resting his tip right against your sweet spot once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the mind blowing pleasure. He hadn’t completed a full thrust before you were begging for more.

“Please, please, more,” you managed out in between gasps, Levi rolling his hips backwards.

“You want more?” he chided, ramming himself so hard, the two of you bounced from the impact. You nodded, unable to voice a single word, drool threatening to escape your lips. His fist left the comfort of your bent knees, coming up to squish your cheeks together, a dribble of spit glistening against your pout, “You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, brat.”

“Yes! More!” you strangled out, muffled from his grip on your face. He let go, placing a very soft pat to your cheekbone, almost as a reward.

“Atta’ girl,” Levi’s gaze turned dark as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the column of your neck. How pretty would you look with his fist wrapped around your throat?

The thought was threateningly persuasive as Levi found himself doing just that, squeezing the sides of your neck as he began to piston his cock between your folds. The sounds of slapping skin and your pussy squelching had you panting loudly, Levi’s fingers pressing harder into the sides of your throat. It felt so good, good wasn’t even the word to describe it. In fact, there weren’t any words in your brain at all, too consumed by the visuals of the ravenette plowing hard into you.

His hand left your throat upon seeing your eyes begin to flutter, his concern for your ability to breathe over taking his lust. Instead, he circled both his arms under your back, bringing you up into a folder position against his chest. He placed open mouth kisses along the curve of your shoulder, licking and sucking at any skin he could reach. Your ankles hooked around his waist, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from slipping a hand to your aching clit.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded into Levi’s neck as your middle finger rubbed hard at your clit, your thick slick coating the pad. You got curious, letting your hand trail further down, exploring the motion of his cock pummeling into you.

“Put your hands on my back, and maybe I will,” he growled out, displeased that he wasn’t the one bringing you total and complete pleasure.

You followed his orders with speed, his head navigated out of the crook of your neck, capturing your lips with a hasty passion. He tasted sweetly sour, the lingerings of your essence resting in the crevices of his lips, but still, you couldn’t get enough of his kiss. When his hand finally left the middle of your spine, and began to travel down to your center, you could feel the bubbles of climax igniting back in your stomach.

“Levi,” you moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved at lightning speed against your nerves, timed nearly perfectly with the pattern of his thunderous thrusts. The desk was squeaking loudly against the floor as he continued to pound into animalistically, moving it slightly with every move.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna’ cum,” you swallowed his words as he somehow sped up his movements, driving you straight to your climax.

You couldn’t even warn him, you barely had time to realize you were cumming yourself. It almost hurt how tightly you had clenched his cock as the pleasure nearly blinded you, unable to hold back swears and moans. Levi kissed you harder, and upon feeling your contractions swallowing him whole, your plush walls pulling his tip right up against your cervix, his hips staggered and his knees buckled.

Levi’s brain went blank as his orgasm was ripped from him, “Fuck, fuck!”

Levi should’ve felt embarrassed at the noises that left his mouth, whimpers and soft moans exiting his throat as he came hard. It was almost too much, the feeling of your wet heat wrapping around his most intimate part, the closeness of your bodies, although still fairly clothed, had his heart hammering in his ears.

When you came down from your highs, all you could was stare at each other in astonishment, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. He rested his sweaty forehead against yours, fluttering his eyelashes shut as he kissed you gently. You let out a sleepy giggle, your body entirely spent. His hand finally left the sensitive skin of your clit, wrapping your fingers around the back of your head as his kiss deepened.

When he finally slid his softened length out of the depths of your pussy, you were hissing at the fluttering of soreness intruding your pelvis. Levi shot you an apologetic look, kissing your forehead.

“Does this mean I can still be your assistant?” you mumbled, a small smile on your face as Levi reached down to pull his pants up.

His head tilted back as an uncharacteristic laugh bubbled out, flashing you a mischievous smile, “Get yourself cleaned up, and meet me back in my office. I still don’t believe you’re actually sorry.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[shadowed-dancer]

Thoughts on Episode 122 (S6 E9)

Team training, legless legends, and regretful reflections. Let’s talk about it

Spoilers for the episode, light spoilers for the manga but I put them separately at the end and label them

This episode starts at 100 and doesn’t let up for a second (very intense) but is it weird to say I felt the very final moment just… didn’t hit as hard as I’d hoped?

Of course, “thing not being as cool as it could have been” is certainly not the end of the world. I got chills in the lead up, especially the “in that moment I didn’t think” portion, I was just expecting some sort of noise at the moment of impact, or like a flash to jolt the audience. You know, those usual anime tricks they do to make us feel what the characters feel

I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s start the the beginning (I’ve heard it’s a very good place to start)

Starting the episode with Aizawa just casually cutting off his leg was so intense. Definitely set the mood of “things are serious now”

I like the way they did the eye thing. I think this whole season has done a good job balancing violent moments without making them too graphic

I also like that they cut Shigaraki having two bullets (in the manga he shoots two. One hits Aizawa and the other is destroyed by Bakugo). It always felt a little pointless, so I’m glad they made it more straight forward. Now they just have to hope the manga never references that second bullet lol

Continuing with that serious tone, the bit with the rest of the class just standing in shock, totally helpless, was so good. Small moments like that really make you feel the weight of questions like “did we do the right thing?”

Contrast this with how chill and lighthearted the Deku training flashback was and you’ve got some great juxtaposition

“What’s todays date” -Everyone after waking up from a nap

They added teen Bakugo grabbing child Deku’s hand! Unexpected but very cool (that imagery is based on Volume 29’s cover! It’s not originally in the story but I’m so glad it is now)

The voice over leading up to that final moment was so good. Everything was so chilling; I was on the edge of my seat despite knowing what happens lol

However, like I said, I’m not totally sold on how they did the actual stabbing scene. It just felt like “oh, ok, it’s a still shot of something. Oh he’s getting impaled?!” And then credits. Idk I just thought they’d take the chance to really tug at the heartstrings and make the audience sit there in shock, especially with how they handled other emotional climaxes this season so far

And I know it’s not a big deal (it’s still a very shocking scene), it’s just that for how good the rest of the episode was, you’d think they’d want to hammer it home with the literal last thing you see

When people think the war war arc, there are three moments that come to mind (Twice’s death, Bakugo getting stabbed, and a third one that will probably happen in 2 episodes). They nailed the weight and emotion of Twice’s scene, so I guess I was just hoping they’d put extra emphasis on Bakugo’s. Give it that extra oomph

They changed the ED! I like how they made a “Deku version” of that Vol.29 cover (grownup Deku reaching out to little Bakugo). Unlike the Twice one it didn’t make me ugly-cry, but then again I think it’s because I expected this one. The Twice came out of nowhere, so it hurt even more

Overall? Good episode, just a shame they didn’t do anything to really make it go “plus ultra” at the end

LIGHT MANGA SPOILERS

I HATE that they had to remind us about the whole “if you keep doing this kind of damage you won’t be able to move your arms” thing. I know this flashback was in the manga, but it was stupid there too because IT NEVER COMES INTO PLAY. Why remind us of this risk only to say a few chapters later “actually that was wrong, you don’t have to worry about it”. I guess I was just hoping they’d do something to mitigate how awkward that will end up being

This whole episode, despite being very good, was also bittersweet because it’s the start of Horikoshi’s… new type of storytelling. By that, I of course mean seeing important moments after the fact as a flashback. It’s fine for now since this is the first time it’s happening (and a technique like this is fine in moderation), but as the season goes on we will see this more and more. Like… we will definitely still have some really good episodes coming up, but it just reminded me the villain hunt is right around the corner. I am praying so hard that someone on the production team reworked the entire arc to make it better

[tiramisiyu]

Thoughts on Xia Yan’s Anniversary/Kiss Date

Not a translation, but rather an unleashing of the many thoughts I had for his date because it made me feel so many emotions and think so many things;;

Wordcount: 2.8k

Date Translation

Preamble

Tears of Themis’ 1st anniversary features one of the most significant in-story events you can view within an otome game - the confession event between MC and respective male leads. The gravity of this confession event, however, is intensified with respect to the ML Xia Yan, as their emotions towards each other is not the only focus of said confession - he must also reveal the heartbreaking truth that his life is likely to end in three years. 

In the below sections, I will discuss the significance of various components that comprise Xia Yan’s anniversary date. My primary focuses will be on Xia Yan’s internal struggles, his care for MC, and the nature of the confession, and I aim to ultimately express why this date had such a major effect on me and whoa if you’re still reading this rambling part, I applaud you. I’m really just doing a fancy thoughtdump here.

The Nature of the Confession Event

From the beginning, XY never intended for the confession to be full of pomp and circumstance - and this was out of concern for MC, fearing that she would be too swept up in emotion to make it. Based on how the other guys’ cards look (them being outside and MC’s all dressed up), I assume that there was some ceremony-like aspect to their respective confessions, and I think that this draws a stark contrast to XY’s (who staunchly refused Yang Xiao’s offer to help make his confession just as ceremonial). In XY’s, MC’s not dressed up the way she is for the others, and both have been drenched in rain and are dissolving into tears of sadness as they speak. In addition, their desires are conflicting (rather than a situation where both parties confess and get together, and thus have coinciding interests) - despite what XY has said before, he does not want MC to be with him, while MC wants the exact opposite. It’s not a beautiful or gorgeous scene by design - instead, it’s very raw, very 狼狈 as the two lay bare their own painful emotions, discuss/cry about heavy topics, and show very vulnerable sides to each other, trying to get through to the other person. 

Speaking of showing vulnerability, the fact that Xia Yan is so anguished by what he has to say that he has to sit down and cry hits particularly hard because he has always, always tried to put on a strong face in front of MC. Whenever his illness strikes and MC sees it, such as in aquarium date or Neruda poem date, he’ll smile and/or joke about it after. When the two were talking about his posthumous letters during the RRG date, he still had a calm smile on his face. Even when he talked about being shoved into a car trunk to be “disposed of”, he was still calmly smiling. As MC noted, his job has taught him to have extreme control over his emotions, so it’s almost overwhelming, trying to imagine how much sadness pushed him to that point.

Pathetic fallacy also plays a part in increasing the impact that the confession event had. In the days leading up to the last part of the date, storms keep striking suddenly, such that it’s even described as “strange”. Storms are, of course, generally associated with less-pleasant things, such as conflict, anger, depression, difficulty, and so on. The meaning behind why they appeared suddenly or frequently is a little harder to understand, but my assumption for the frequency of the storms (rather than an ongoing storm or gloom) reflects how things could not completely “clear up” (despite uplifts in emotion from time to time) until they confronted each other with their feelings. During the confrontation, not only is the storm still going on, but they’re also harshly drenched in the cold rainwater. It is only after the kiss, after their interests finally coincide, that the storm lifts and the beautiful starry sky casts its light on Xia Yan, who was holding the majority of the conflict/sadness/depression between the two of them. (This is also highlighted in how MC notes that Xia Yan feels slightly cold (during the kiss), and she tries to transfer her warmth over to him, trying to alleviate that heavy emotion that’s wrapped itself around him.) 

The Location

The attic of their old home remains an important location for these two, and I pretty much can’t think of a better choice to set the confession. It contains their childhood memories, and it also came into play during Xia Yan’s first birthday after his return (i.e. the idea of continuing to make memories there). It’s also interesting to note that Xia Yan, from his rational mindset, did not intend to see MC… yet he still came to this place - a place that was equally meaningful to both of them, and a place where he’s likely to get lost in emotion. He may be restraining his emotions for MC’s good, yet they still show in small places. (At least, there doesn’t seem to be any logical reason for him to be there, since he wasn’t setting anything up there…)

The Humanizing and Internal Conflict of Xia Yan

I call it “humanizing” because I’ve done some commenting before on how Xia Yan has felt a little superhuman - so many skills everywhere, and rarely a moment of weakness. Now, this date really drives home that he is just human too, with the harsh reality of imminent death hanging over him (especially since we also learn a few more concrete details on exactly what his illness is). This point is brought into attention when he talks about how he’s neither able to be as brave as Schumann (who acted based on emotion) nor as silently strong as Brahms (who acted based on reason). He’s pulled in so many directions for all the things he wants - a desire to stay by MC’s side and do so much with her, whether as family or as something more, versus his rational mindset that tells him to not see her at all, to disappear from her life after, or to push her away even after her confession. There was also his “rationally” created plan in which he would give her the letter and let her decide, yet he still tries to convince her to not be with him. 

The Schumann/Brahms comparison shows how he keeps getting pulled back and forth between reason and emotion. He reveals his feelings to MC (Schumann), but wants her to make the optimal decision, which he believes is to not be with him (Brahms). He then kisses her after hearing her conviction (Schumann) and then gives her the gift that’s linked to Brahms. In realizing that he’s not able to stick to either path, he calls himself a coward - but he doesn’t need to be like either person. As MC says, his restraint is a part of his own background, and his emotional wavering is because of his care for MC - all in all, his motivations are because he is Xia Yan, not Schumann or Brahms. 

Personal Story Chapter 2 Parallels

In Xia Yan’s personal chapter 2, Yang Xiao sets up the story of 零/Zero and 玛丽薇莎/Marivisa to mirror MC and Xia Yan (respectively). The mention of what will bring Zero and MC happiness is starkly similar in these two situations:

⊳ Personal Ch.2-9

Xia Yan: 因为...这样，零会更幸福... 她不是在牺牲，她只是用自己的方式让零能幸福。Because this way, Zero would be happier… She wasn’t sacrificing herself. She was only using her own methods to make Zero happy.

MC: 但零的幸福就是她啊。But Zero’s happiness is her.

Xia Yan: 她已经无法给零幸福了。 It’s already impossible for her to give Zero happiness.

⊳ Date

Xia Yan: 如果你选择别的男人。。。只要他能给你幸福。我只会带给你不幸，我没有时间了。。。If you choose another man… As long as he can make you happy. All I can bring you is unhappiness. I don’t have much time left…

MC: 你怎么可能带给我不幸，你怎么可能做不到给我幸福。你在我身边，你的存在本身，就是我的幸福。How is it possible that you can only bring me unhappiness? How is it impossible for you to bring me happiness? You being by my side – your very existence – is my happiness. 

Yes, the Zero/Marivisa story was intentionally made to parallel these two, so it might feel moot to compare them like this. However, I still really appreciated that they brought this discussion of what brings MC/Zero happiness back, especially since XY’s chapter 2 was very major in developing his character. Back then, MC is vehement in that Zero would have been happier spending all the time he could with Marivisa, as well as even having the choice to spend that time with her. I think that this part was instrumental in Xia Yan eventually deciding to tell her the truth and letting her make her own decision (as he explicitly stated to Yang Xiao in part 1 of the date). However, he still wasn’t fully convinced by what MC said back in chapter 2, so we satisfyingly see this discussion of happiness come full circle by the end of this date, when Xia Yan finally trusts MC to make the best decision for herself. 

Xia Yan’s Considerateness

Xia Yan’s enduring consideration for MC displays itself in nearly every single action within this date. 

The flashback, when he thinks about MC potentially having to go through what the widow is now experiencing, and how his own happiness for three years isn’t worth that

His conviction to give her the right to decide in this matter that involves both of them, because he can’t be the one to decide everything

He insisted on not making it a romantic event, because he wants MC to make the best decision without having a mind clouded by emotion. He’s also made peace with the idea of not being with MC, for the sake of her long-term happiness. All he wants is for her to know the truth of his feelings and illness.

His decision to still make MC a gift to retain some aspect of the romance in the confession (but he only gives the gift after MC has made her decision, again to ensure that her mind isn’t clouded). I think the concept of the gift is particularly beautiful - the little, happy holograms of them inside the glass, as if ensuring that he will always be by her side in some way; the music that brings back their childhood memories and alludes to an enduring, quiet, and protecting love that puts the recipient first (i.e. Brahms to Clara); and the rainbow, which has its childhood memories and treasure implications that are already mentioned in the date, but it also reminded me of the miraculous double rainbow in his Lost Gold date. That double rainbow was the trigger for Xia Yan to proactively seek out a future with MC, when he took the initiative to ask MC if she could be with him to seek out more miracles. Overall, there are a lot of beautiful memories and implications wrapped up in that music box/snowglobe. 

The little comical segment where he worries about the optimal time to deliver the letter, worrying about MC’s sleep or if she’ll be able to eat well.

His stress over what he should’ve done after the letter was delivered, and how he immediately answered MC’s call out of pure worry, despite being so resolute about not answering her calls that he’d turned on airplane mode before. 

Their ensuing discussion in part 3 is just full of Xia Yan’s consideration for MC at its peak - 

Rather than being ecstatic about MC’s confession, his first instinct is to tell her to take a few days to think about it logically. (But really, emotions aren’t logical to begin with, so it’s not like MC would’ve stopped liking you after mulling it over for a few days, haha)

His immediate apology after yelling that he has to mention his death

His worry about how MC will cope after he’s gone, going so far as to saying that she would be better off with another man 

I think that this particular (above) line got a particularly visceral reaction from Xia Yan fans, including myself. Because like MC, our initial thoughts fell along the lines of “How could I ever choose someone else when the only person I like is you? There’s just no way someone else could make me happier…”. Another reaction that I’ve seen among Xia Yan fans (yep, including myself) is how we originally viewed the story in third-person, seeing “MC” in the story, but this date (and this particular scene, where MC says nearly everything that I myself would want to say) dragged us into a first-person position. 

The heartbreaking scene where Xia Yan cries from being unable to give MC the happiness that he wants to give her (or so he thinks). 

He’s just so painfully selfless. I also really like the line during the kiss where MC tries to transmit her warmth to him, trying to balance things out between them and have him feel better, when he had already written himself off by thinking that his happiness is better off sacrificed for hers. 

Jin Xian’s Voice Acting

Jin Xian’s voice acting deserves a whole section to itself, because I think that he did an amazing job of portraying the intense emotions Xia Yan feels during the date. Just going to list some lines that really hit hard - both because of the content, and because of the voice acting that really considered how Xia Yan would be feeling then. 

我可以去追她，我甚至可以和她结婚。我可以把最后的三年过得很好，过的毫无遗憾，但是然后呢？她一个人要怎么办。。。谁陪她走出来，谁来照顾她。。。(“I could pursue her. I could even marry her. I could live my last three years happily, without the slightest of regrets. But what about after? How will she cope on her own… Who will be with her as she handles this? Who will take care of her…”) The ups and downs of this section’s voicing really hit hard.

The gentleness with which he speaks about what he plans to tell MC, especially the line 她从来都是这样 (“She’s always been like that.”)

He’s so cute in Part 2!! The tone’s a lot happier and relaxed and it’s really nice to see and hear. 

In part 3, the vehemence with which he talks about how the risks of MC’s work aren’t comparable to his established time limit, which then softens into something sadder when he talks about how Yang Xiao’s efforts haven’t extended his time by much. 

The intensity when he says 我必须说 ! (“I have to say it!”) (when MC reacts to him using the word “death”), and how he immediately softens his tone after. But then his voice starts to rise again as he worries for how MC will bear his death… and then he takes a break to calm down, and then makes the suggestion of MC finding another man with a near-inflectionless tone that gradually slips into a whisper

His whispering voice makes the impact of 我在乎。。。！(I care…!) hit even harder because it’s suddenly loud, and you can clearly hear the tears in his voice. Once again, he takes a breath to calm himself down and quiet his voice. But even as he keeps talking in a voice that descends into a whisper again, you can tell that he’s still on the verge of crying…

Also the 我也。。。好喜欢，最喜欢你. (I also… like you. I like you the most) line left me screaming with how it was whispered but really strong and adamant-sounding aaaaa

Anyways I could list more but at that point I might as well list Jin Xian’s entire script lmao. He did such a good job!!!!!! 

Sound Effects 

I’m laughing at myself for including this section - if you turn off the music that accompanies Xia Yan’s card, you’ll… hear some very interesting sound effects [狗头]

They’ve got to make the most of their limited time together, after all, and this is the only date out of the set of four that’s indoors… it makes sense…

Other Thoughts 

Two kisses!!

What sort of treatment would leave Xia Yan infected with drugs with prohibited components? What were they even trying to do? 

The date was short relative to the other, super-long Themis dates, but I’m personally alright with that because it places focus on the confession itself. It hit all the points that I personally was expecting for Xia Yan’s confession, including his past struggles with the idea of staying with MC, his confession about both his feelings and his illness, and how resolute MC is about staying with him vs. how hard he tries to get her to understand the implications of being him, considering that he doesn’t have much time left. 

I think now’s a good time for the two of them to get married if they’re well aware that Xia Yan’s time is limited, so Xia Yan, where’s the ruby ring? 

I wonder what implications this will have on the main story - e.g. will the rest of NXX find out about Xia Yan’s illness in Chapter 7.2? Or will they never know? Actually, I wonder if they’ll have MC be aware of his illness in the main story because… that implies his confession happened, which might anger fans of the other boys. 

Conclusion

I love Xia Yan and I love this date. 

[ibijau]

The Noble Art of Tree Climbing / On AO3

Since he lost his mother, Lan Xichen hasn't felt anything at all, and his cultivation is starting to suffer. His worried uncle decides to take him to the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

It was not a common gift to see the threads of fate between people, but Lan Xichen’s mother had called it a blessing from the heavens when she’d still been alive. She had said it was a sign fate trusted him to be wise enough to deal with that knowledge, and that he would have to be worthy of it. Lan Xichen had promised that he would try, though he wasn’t always sure what that was even supposed to mean.

At that time, all he had really known was that his mother’s thread went out of the Cloud Recesses, and his father bore no thread at all.

It was only after his mother’s death that it had hit him how odd it was for a marriage to have happened between them in spite of this, and even more so for his brother and him to have been born of such an improbable union. He had been told that dual cultivation was necessary for children to be born, and that it could only be practiced with one’s true love. His teachers couldn’t have lied, so clearly his parents had to have been in love, even without a red thread of fate, right?

It often threw Lan Xichen into a pensive state whenever he looked at the thread attached to one of his fingers, or his brother’s thread. Would that fate be enough to make them happy? It clearly hadn’t been enough for their mother, who’d had that melancholy air about her, especially in her last few months, as if even visits from her sons weren’t enough to lift her spirits anymore. But maybe it was just that she had never had the chance of meeting that person at the other end of that thread. Or else, since she didn’t have Lan Xichen’s gift, she hadn’t known that person’s true value, and had gotten roped into another match that did not suit her. Unless it was for that person’s sake that she had committed the crime that Lan Xichen wasn’t supposed to know about, the murder that had caused him and his brother to be born even when they shouldn’t have.

Lan Xichen thought about his mother a lot in the weeks after she passed away. He was not as demonstrative as Lan Wangji about missing her, but the pain was still there and he didn’t know how to deal with it at all. It paralysed him sometimes, and he would spend half a day staring at the red thread on his hand, wondering how different things could have been for his mother, if she had only known better, if she’d gone to that other person, if Wangji and him had never been born. Maybe she would have been happy. Maybe she wouldn’t have died.

Maybe it would have been better for everyone, if Lan Xichen had never existed at all.

Those thoughts became so bad that his grief started to impact his cultivation, which was when Lan Qiren decided to intervene, and to find some distractions for Lan Xichen. He took his nephew along to a few conferences, hoping it might cheer him up. Lan Xichen, dutifully, tried to be entertained by all those old people discussing arcane cultivation techniques or chatting about politics, but it was very boring and just gave him more time to think about his mother. 

He could have tried to go play with the children of those other sects, but grown-ups always praised him when he tried to stay with them and to act serious, so he figured playing would have been a bad thing. He was going to be a sect leader someday, anyway, and he had to be serious. If he wasn’t serious enough, then he’d disappoint his sect, as his father had done. Lan Xichen didn’t want to be a disappointment. And anyway, even when he did try to play with others, he was often too sad, so they would leave him behind and continue their games without him. It was better to stay with the grown-ups.

It went on like this for half a year, Lan Xichen withdrawing further and further upon himself, Lan Wangji stubbornly waiting daily in front of their mother’s prison to see her. Lan Qiren appeared to be at his wit’s end, which only made Lan Xichen feel worse. After having lost his mother, he started worrying that his uncle too would leave them, disappointed that his nephews refused to behave themselves. He tried, hard, to act as if things were fine again, as if he didn’t miss his mother at all, but it was all for naught. Even if he could sometimes fool those who only knew him in passing, his cultivation was still suffering greatly from his too intense grief, and so Lan Qiren knew that things still weren’t right.

Out of other options, Lan Qiren decided that a longer change of habit might do his nephews good. Lan Xichen, privately, thought that it showed their uncle really didn’t understand Lan Wangji at times, because his brother thrived on habits and would be upset over any change. At the same time, Lan Qiren was older and knew better, of course. So Lan Xichen kept any remarks he might have had to himself, and nodded along to his uncle’s idea.

The place where Lan Qiren took them was a far away one, too far in fact for him to have taken Lan Xichen there to conferences before. Lan Qiren wasn’t the strongest of flyers, least of all when he had to carry along a boy of nearly ten years old. And yet he managed, with both his nephews riding his sword with him. Lan Xichen figured his uncle had to be really desperate, and he felt awful for causing so much trouble.

That place had an unpleasant name, an unpleasant look, and the disciples of that sect had an unpleasant air to them, grim and a little rough, completely unlike the people Lan Xichen was used to at home.

Privately, and as soon as he laid eyes upon the Unclean Realm, Lan Xichen found himself hoping that Lan Wangji would throw a tantrum and they’d have to go home soon. If he had to be miserable, he’d rather be miserable in a familiar place.

For the time being, they were welcomed at the gate by a very tall woman, taller than Lan Qiren or any of the disciples of her sect. She was Nie-furen, Lan Qiren explained as she guided them inside the Unclean Realm. The warning was appreciated. She really didn’t look much like the few women Lan Xichen had seen in his life, and wore men’s clothes. If he hadn’t been warned, he might have mistaken her for a man, though he would learn in the coming days that nearly all the women in the Unclean Realm dressed in that manner to be more efficient in Night Hunts. They only wore normal dresses for conferences, and only if they felt like it.

Nie-furen took them to a great hall where, seated upon a high and mighty throne, Nie-zongzhu greeted them with rather less effusions than Lan Xichen was used to from sect leaders, although that sober manner seemed to please Lan Qiren rather more than Jiang-zongzhu and Jin-zongzhu’s warmth.

Grown-ups were rather odd, and Lan Xichen didn’t quite have the capacity to reflect on that at the moment, too fascinated by the sight of Nie-zonghu.

Certainly, there was a lot to be fascinated by, when confronted by such a man. Although he was a little shorter than his wife when he eventually stood up, he was at least twice as broad, with hands so large that they could probably have wrapped around Lan Xichen’s shoulders and still have length to spare. None of that really mattered to Lan Xichen though. What really caught his attention was a detail that others wouldn’t have seen.

Nie-zongzhu had two red threads hanging from his hand.

Upon seeing this, Lan Xichen, who had struggled to feel anything for months and months now, was overcome with irrational anger. How unfair was it for that man to have two people fated to him, when his own parents had been denied such a happy fate? Sure, upon looking more closely, Lan Xichen realised that one appeared to have been severed. It had to have been rather recent, since its colour had only started its slow transformation toward the dull white it would become when the worst of the grief was over. Still, that man had had two fated lovers, when Lan Xichen’s mother had never lived with hers, when his father had been forced to accept the shadow of a love that could never be his.

How very unfair. Lan Xichen would have cried from rage if it wouldn’t have been disgraceful for his sect.

“And how long do you want to stay here then?” Nie-zongzhu asked, continuing a conversation that Lan Xichen hadn’t paid attention to.

“I was thinking a week to start,” Lan Qiren replied. “If it seems to be having positive effects, and if Nie-zongzhu has no objections, I’ll return to the Cloud Recesses and come back in a month or two to get them back.”

Nie zongzhu nodded, as did his wife.

“It’ll be good for our boys as well,” he said. “Huaisang hasn’t been the same either lately… not that I expect your boys to spend much time with him anyway. From what you’ve said about them, I think they’ll get along more with Mingjue, even with the age difference. Which is good too. He needs friends, that child.”

Nie-furen rolled her eyes at these words, and glared at her husband. He glared right back, and though there seemed to be no heat or anger between them, Lan Xichen still shivered at the intensity of emotion displayed there, right in front of outsiders. Things like that just didn’t happen at home, at least not in his experience. But then again, he’d never been in the same room as both his parents, so what did he know?

“Well, I guess that’s settled,” Nie-furen grumbled. “I’ll take those two to the training grounds so you can have a chat about politics. Don’t forget to tell Qiren about that thing that happened the other month at the border, I really didn’t like that.”

Without waiting for an answer, Nie-furen walked to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, grabbing both of them by the hand to lead them out of the hall. Lan Wangji tried to pull away, but stopped quickly after one severe look from Nie-furen who probably mistook his disgust for rebellion, the way some teachers did at home. Lan Wangji looked very miserable over being touched that way by a complete stranger, and Lan Xichen knew already that the rest of the day wasn’t going to be a good one for his little brother. He sighed. When Lan Wangji was having a bad day, everyone was having a bad day.

Feeling depressed over this situation, Lan Xichen’s gaze dropped to the ground. After just a few steps, his eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he realised that for some reason, they were following his red thread, something that had never happened before.

After years and years of seeing his own thread go far into the distance, Lan Xichen had stopped paying attention to it. Whenever he’d travelled with his uncle, the thread had always gone in a different direction from the one they were headed. At the venerable age of ten, Lan Xichen had determined that he was never going to meet the person fated for him. Considering his family’s luck with love, and after hearing his uncle’s many complaints on the topic, Lan Xichen usually thought it was for the best.

And yet, in spite of himself, Lan Xichen felt a little excitement start to spike inside his chest the longer they followed his thread. Things had been terrible for so long, but if he could just have one good thing again…

That excitement rose ever higher when Nie-furen called out her sons’ names, and Lan Xichen first laid eyes on Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue was a few years older than him, and a good deal taller too. He had the same hard eyes his mother had, and broad shoulders like his father. Lan Xichen had never really taken the time to wonder what he liked as far as others’ appearance went, but even he could only acknowledge that Nie Mingjue was a very handsome teenager, and one who very obviously already had a golden core. Combined with the things he’d heard here and there people say about Nie gongzi…

To Lan Xichen’s great joy, the red thread on his finger really was going toward Nie Mingjue, which sent his heart racing… until Nie Mingjue was close enough for his hand to be visible, and Lan Xichen realised there was no thread at all attached to the older boy. Instead, his own thread continued going behind Nie Mingjue, and toward another boy who was struggling to run as fast as Nie-gongzi, his round face all red from the effort.

Everything Nie Mingjue was, that boy wasn’t. He was small, a little scrawny, with ears too big for his face and his teeth looked all weird, perhaps because they were a mix of baby teeth, adult ones, and a lot of gaps where the adult teeth hadn’t yet started to grow.

Whatever spark of joy and hope Lan Xichen had felt quickly dissipated upon seeing the person whom fate had chosen for him. He should have known he wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Mingjue, these boys are Lan Huan and Lan Zhan,” Nie-furen announced. “They are the sons of Lan zongzhu, and will be staying here for a little while. I’ll leave them in your care, so be a good host.”

Nie Mingjue nodded nonchalantly, apparently not particularly impressed by his mother’s severe appearance. The same could not be said of the second boy who went very still when Nie-furen turned her attention to him.

“Huaisang, for once, be good as well and don’t cause trouble. Don’t bother them, and don’t create problems when others have decided what game they want to play, or else I’ll deal with you.”

“Yes, mother,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, giving his mother a half hearted bow. “If they’re here, does it mean we don’t have to train today?”

“You lazy boy, of course that’s your only worry!” Nie-furen sighed, trying not to smile. “It will be up to your guest, depending whether they’re interested in a demonstration or not. You’d better put in some real effort if they do.”

Nie Huaisang bowed again, but not quickly enough to hide a grimace. Worse still, when Nie-furen left, Nie Huaisang immediately stuck out his tongue in her direction, which scandalised both Lan boys.

Lan Xichen in particular felt his heart sink. If this was the person who was destined to share his life… it seemed like a fate even worse than his father’s, and it almost made him want to cry. He would have, if not for Nie Mingjue’s presence. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of an older boy this accomplished, his pride just wouldn’t survive it.

“Stop being a brat,” Nie Mingjue ordered his brother, lightly slapping the back of Nie Huaisang’s head. This, in turn, made him bite his tongue, hard enough to cry a little.

“Mean! Da-ge is the worst!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, all of his attention on the Lan brothers. Lan Xichen tried to stand as tall as he could, to make himself look older than he was.

“So, you’re Lan Huan, uh?” Nie Mingjue asked. “My father says he’s seen you at some conferences, and that you’re always very well behaved. He’s always saying we should be more like that. I guess that’s why you’ve been invited here?”

There was something in Nie Mingjue’s tone of voice that seemed to imply that ‘well behaved’ wasn’t a good thing to be. Lan Xichen, who worked so hard to meet all the expectations of his uncle even when he was so constantly sad and empty, felt baffled by the idea. A little embarrassed as well. He so wanted Nie Mingjue to think he was cool too, but apparently he had failed before even having the chance to prove himself.

“Do you know how to fight?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Or are you still too young for that?”

“I’m ten,” Lan Xichen retorted with perhaps a little more annoyance than was really polite. “Of course I know how to fight. But I didn’t bring a sword for a demonstration, and Qinghe Nie uses sabres, so I can’t borrow something to spar with you.”

“As if you’d be good enough to spar with da-ge anyway,” Nie Huaisang claimed, earning himself another light slap on the head from his brother. “What? It’s true! Nobody’s better than you. You can even fight with grown-ups already, and everyone says the Lans are just a bunch of monks that only play music, and…”

“Huaisang, shut up,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “I swear I’ll tell mother if you keep insulting our guests.”

“I’m not insulting… oh. I was rude?”

Nie Mingjue nodded, which made Nie Huaisang look a little awkward.

“Spar with me, Lan Huan” Nie Mingjue decided. “We do have some swords, for training. It’s always good to know how to use more than one weapon. Come with me, we’ll find you something.”

Maybe Lan Qiren had been onto something with his idea of coming to this strange place, because for the first time in ages, Lan Xichen found himself feeling genuinely excited about something. He was going to spar, with an older boy, and one that looked really cool, and who wasn’t even acting like it’d be a chore to practice with someone younger.

It was fun, fighting with Nie Mingjue. The sword Lan Xichen had been given wasn’t great, nothing at all like the one he used at home, but even with an inferior weapon he held his own. Nie Mingjue had the advantage of size, training, and experience, but Lan Xichen’s smaller size could be an advantage too, and he almost landed a few blows, for which Nie Mingjue complimented him.

It had been a long while since a compliment really thrilled him.

They sparred for a long while. Longer perhaps than was quite wise, considering that Lan Xichen hadn’t trained very seriously that past year. Even as he grew tired and started making mistakes, Lan Xichen refused to give up, desperate to absorb every little bit of fun he could while the feeling lasted. He didn’t even mind when Nie Mingjue started pushing him into a corner of the training field, clearly on the verge of winning their friendly fight.

Lan Xichen didn’t mind, but Lan Wangji did.

He was always a bit of an odd child, wary of strangers, protective of family. If Lan Xichen had not been so taken by his match with Nie Mingjue, he would have noticed his brother’s growing distress about the fight, would have seen that Nie Huaisang wasn’t paying attention to Lan Wangji (nor the fight for that matter), that there was no adults around them to check what they were doing. He would have reacted faster when Lan Wangji ran onto the training field, would have deflected Nie Mingjue’s sabre to protect him.

Lan Xichen would have…

He didn’t.

Because it was only a friendly spar, and because Nie Mingjue was so skilled, he managed, just barely, to avoid inflicting any serious injury onto Lan Wangji. Still the little boy now had a bleeding gash on his forearm, spilling blood in a thin but steady flow. 

"I'll take him to the doctor," Nie Mingjue announced, picking up Lan Wangji as if he weighed nothing. It said a lot about Wangji's shock that he didn't try to escape and just kept uselessly pressing his hand on the wound, wailing like a miserable kitten. "Huaisang, stay here with Lan Huan. If someone comes looking for us, tell them what happened."

Nie Huaisang, who'd just trotted toward them when he'd heard shouting, rose on his toes to catch a glimpse of Wangji’s wound. 

"Is he going to die?" he asked. "That's a lot of blood, and mommy says…" 

"Shut up, you're rude again," Nie Mingjue snapped. 

Nie Huaisang flinched and stepped away, falling silent. Nie Mingjue left, all but running away with poor Lan Wangji in his arms while Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang stood there, watching him disappear. 

When Nie Mingjue was out of view, Nie Huaisang grabbed Lan Xichen's hand and tried to drag him away. 

"Let's go, it's boring here." 

Lan Xichen tried to pull his hand free. He was less difficult than his brother, but they shared a dislike of being touched by strangers, which Nie Huaisang was. Even if they were linked by fate… In fact, because they were linked by fate, because Nie Huaisang had joined their hands that carried that horrible red thread, Lan Xichen was even less inclined than usual to let himself be touched.

“He said to wait here,” he complained, pulling hard to get free, in vain. Nie Huaisang was small and skinny, but he had a strong grip. “We can’t disobey.”

“Yes we can,” Nie Huaisang said. “It’s easy, I disobey all the time. And mother said we had to be good hosts. It’s too boring to stay here, so I’ll take you somewhere more fun. Do you like candies?”

“Sugar is bad for you,” Lan Xichen recited. He did like candies, very much so. His uncle said candies were bad for his health and for his teeth, but his mother always used to give him some anyway.

He hadn’t had any candies since she’d died.

That thought, combined with fear about Lan Wangji’s wound, finished ruining Lan Xichen’s fragile good mood.

“Mommy used to say it’s only bad if you have too much,” Nie Huaisang protested. He pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand. “Do you like birds?”

The question surprised Lan Xichen. He had never really taken time to wonder if he liked birds or not. Nobody had ever asked before.

“They’re pretty. I guess I like them well enough.”

“I love birds,” Nie Huaisang announced proudly. “Do you want to see a raven’s nest? There’s chicks in it, and they are very ugly, it’s very cute.”

“Things can’t be ugly and cute at the same time.”

“Yes they can. You have to come and see the chicks, and then you’ll understand. Let’s go check on them, please?”

Lan Xichen hesitated. Nie Mingjue had told them to stay where they were, implying that adults would soon come to check on them. After that incident with Wangji, it was almost certain that Lan Qiren would realise his plan was not going to work, and that he would take his nephews back home right away. Lan Xichen wanted to go home. Home was very sad, but it was also very safe, and he didn’t have to feel any big emotions over there.

But if they went home as soon as adults came to fetch them, that meant Lan Xichen would not have a chance to see those raven chicks. It would be upsetting, because then he would spend the rest of his life wondering how any creature could be both ugly and cute.

“Is it very far from here?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Huaisang grinned, and pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand who stopped resisting and followed at last.

“It’s really close,” Nie Huaisang claimed as they walked. “It’s in the gardens by my bedroom. Do you like flowers? We have very nice flowers there. It’s not the best season for it, but dad planted mulberries there for mommy and me. Because of what she called me, you know?”

“You talk a lot,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

“You could get lost,” Nie Huaisang replied, and then tried to be quiet for a moment.

It was true that Lan Xichen might have gotten lost easily in that place. It felt very different from the Cloud Recesses, with walls and turns everywhere, more a fortress than a place for cultivation. Maybe it was better that Nie Huaisang kept holding his hand. He’d gotten used to it anyway, and already stopped minding. In fact, it was even a little nice. Wangji used to hold his hand a lot when they went places, but his hatred of others’ touch had become too intense in that past year.

“You said it wasn’t very far,” Lan Xichen remarked after a while, growing worried that maybe their escape would be noticed and they’d be punished.

“We’re almost there,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Just a little further… I had to take a different way than usual so mother wouldn’t see us. This is a secret way she doesn’t know about. You have to promise you won’t tell!”

“You shouldn’t keep secrets from your mother.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, and kept pulling Lan Xichen forward.

“It’s okay, it’s not actually bad if I keep secrets,” he said. “She’s not my real mother anyway. She’s just dad’s wife.”

“I don’t understand,” Lan Xichen said, which was almost entirely a lie.

He thought he understood, but it couldn’t be that. If it was what he was thinking about, then surely Nie Huaisang wouldn’t speak so freely about it. Things like that… the adults didn’t speak about them, and the children weren’t supposed to know anything at all about them. It was gossip, and gossip was forbidden.

Nobody must have told that to Nie Huaisang, who cheerfully chattered on.

“It’s like this: Mother isn’t my real mother,” he explained. “She married dad when they were both young. Then she had Mingjue, and he’s the real son that matters. But then dad had me with my real mommy, because he met her on a Night Hunt and she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and also she called him some very bad words when he acted like an idiot, so he fell in love with her even if he was married. And then… ah, that’s the garden!”

At last, after turning endlessly among grey walls, they had indeed reached a little oasis of green. It was a very pretty little garden, neatly kept and organised around one very tall tree. Lan Xichen guessed the nest had to be somewhere up there.

He badly wanted to see it, now that they had come all that way, but Nie Huaisang was still chatting and it would have been rude to interrupt.

“It was real nice when I lived with mommy and my aunt and uncle,” Nie Huaisang said, walking toward the tree, still pulling Lan Xichen by the hand. “But then a while ago mommy got sick real bad, so dad brought us here because cultivators have better doctors. But then she died anyway, and my uncle didn’t want me back even though I thought he liked me, but actually he didn’t because mom having me when she wasn’t married was real bad? I don’t get it, but it’s what da-ge says must have happened, and da-ge is always right. So dad said I should be taught to be a cultivator, and now I’m stuck here.” 

Nie Huaisang paused for breath and sighed deeply. “I really miss mommy.”

“I miss my mother too,” Lan Xichen said without thinking. “She died last year.”

Nie Huaisang froze, and threw him a terrified look.

“Was I rude again? I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have talked about mommy.”

Lan Xichen gave the question some consideration before shaking his head.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I don’t get to talk about her a lot,” he confessed. “Uncle and her didn’t get along. I think he was very angry at her sometimes, so I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mother is angry at dad about me,” Nie Huaisang said, as if sharing some great wisdom. “Da-ge says mother still likes me, though. But also that I shouldn’t talk too much about my real mommy, and also I shouldn’t call her my real mommy because it hurts mother. Oh! But I’m not angry at your mommy, and you’re not angry at mine. If you want you can tell me about her! And I’ll tell you about mine?”

It was a very tempting offer. Lan Xichen missed his mother so much it hurt every time he thought about her, and he was indeed thinking about her most of the time. He’d always been thinking a lot about her, even before she got sick and died. He’d missed her even when she was alive, he sometimes thought. But he couldn’t have told that to anyone. His father never wanted to see them unless it was important or a holiday, and Lan Qiren really didn’t like hearing anyone talk about his sister-in-law, and Wangji… Wangji still missed her so bad, he still didn’t really understand that she was gone for ever, so Lan Xichen didn’t say anything for fear of making things harder for his brother.

Maybe it was fine to talk to Nie Huaisang.

“She was sick a long time,” Lan Xichen explained, letting his eyes fall to the ground. “But even when she was sick, she would still try to be nice to us. She’d read us stories. Then she got really too sick, and it was me who read stories for her and for Wangji. Then the month after we were told we couldn’t visit her like usual, and I heard people say she’d died.”

“You didn’t live with her?”

“No, of course not,” Lan Xichen said, which earned him a look of horror from Nie Huaisang, as if he’d said his mother had two heads. “Nobody lives with their mother.”

“Yes they do!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I lived with my mommy my whole life until she died! Everyone lives with their mommies. How else is she going to give you a kiss before sleep?”

“She didn’t.”

Nie Huaisang gasped. “But then you’re not protected!”

“Protected against what?”

Nie Huaisang threw Lan Xichen a pitying look, as if that were the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“Against the nightmares! You have to have a kiss before sleep,” Nie Huaisang explained in a very serious tone, like a teacher giving a lesson, “or else you’re going to have bad dreams. It’s most efficient if it’s your mommy who does it, of course. Dad does it too sometimes, but he’s busy and I don’t like his moustache anyway because it scratches my cheek, and also he doesn’t give as good protection. Now it’s mostly da-ge who gives me a good night kiss. He complains a lot, and he tickles me sometimes, but it’s really good for protecting, almost as good as mommy.”

A little dark ball of cold and hot formed over Lan Xichen’s heart at the idea that in this world, at least one person had had constant access to their own mother, to her hugs, to her kisses, to her soft words. And maybe it wasn’t just Nie Huaisang who’d been that lucky: after all, Nie-furen had welcomed them alongside her husband, she had chatted with Nie Mingjue quite easily, and seemed free to come and go as she pleased even though she was the sect leader’s wife. Maybe it was a Nie thing.

But now that he thought of it, everywhere his uncle had taken him that past year, sect leaders would welcome their guests in person, with their wives at their side if they had one.

Maybe it wasn’t that children living with their mothers was a Nie thing.

Maybe it was Wangji and him not seeing their mother more than once a month that was odd, just as it was odd for their parents to not be linked by fate, the way so many other married people were.

Lan Xichen didn’t know when he started crying. He only realised when Nie Huaisang squeezed his hand, and tried to wipe his face with his sleeve, looking as if he might cry too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude!” he cried out, scrubbing Lan Xichen’s cheeks a little too hard, unaware of his own strength. “I always say the wrong thing like that. I don’t even understand what I say that’s bad, but people always get angry and say I’m insolent and rude. But I didn’t want to be rude! Can I do something so you’ll stop crying?”

“I miss my mother,” Lan Xichen sobbed.

He’d hoped that talking about her would make it hurt less, but it hadn’t worked. He still missed her as much, but now he also had to deal with the realisation that if his family hadn’t been so strange, he might have seen her a lot more before she died.

“Oh. Then I guess it’s okay to cry,” Nie Huaisang said, giving up on drying Lan Xichen’s face and instead squeezing his hand again. “I cry a lot too about mommy. Everyone says I shouldn’t, because it was long ago and because boys shouldn’t cry. But da-ge lets me cry and he doesn’t tell anyone. I won’t tell either, I promise!”

Lan Xichen tried to thank Nie Huaisang, but only ended up sobbing harder. His face was awash with tears and snot, his eyes and throat hurt from crying so hard, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Except for the day he’d heard his mother had died, and a little at the funeral too, he hadn’t really cried in all that time. He’d just felt numb and cold. He’d felt as if nothing really mattered, not in a world where his mother wasn’t there to smile at him anymore.

After such a long time feeling so little, there was a twisted joy in giving in to his sorrow, in crying until there were no tears left in him, until he couldn’t even stand anymore and Nie Huaisang had to help him sit under that big tree.

The whole time Lan Xichen cried, Nie Huaisang stayed silent. He shed a few tears of his own, either out of sympathy or because he’d been reminded that his mother too was gone for good, but didn’t say a word.

He also didn’t let go of Lan Xichen’s hand, not even one moment, even though there was no risk of getting lost now. Lan Xichen was grateful for that. In the midst of the immense sorrow that had finally overcome him, it was nice to know he wasn’t alone.

After a long, long while, Lan Xichen calmed down at last. He was hiccuping a little, and felt a little bit of headache on his forehead, but other than that he felt better than he had in a long while. Not good, not yet, but better.

“It was a good big cry,” Nie Huaisang said when it was over. “Sometimes, you need a good big cry, da-ge says. Do you want to go back now?”

Lan Xichen wiped his face clean, or as close to clean as it was ever going to be without some fresh water to help.

It was already late, he figured, and by then people had to have noticed they had disobeyed Nie Mingjue’s order to stay put. They were going to be punished for that. Lan Xichen didn’t like being punished, but he also felt that since it was going to happen anyway, he might as well try to make it worth the future discomfort.

“I think I’d like to see those baby ravens now,” he told Nie Huaisang, who grinned as if he’d been given all his favourite candies at once.

“Yes! But we’ll have to climb up the tree. Do you know how?”

Lan Xichen shook his head. Tree climbing wasn’t part of the official curriculum of Gusu Lan.

“It’s fine, I’ll teach you,” Nie Huaisang offered. “I’m very good at it, because da-ge taught me how.”

“He seems like a good da-ge,” Lan Xichen remarked as he stood up.

“There’s no better da-ge in the whole entire world,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “He is always grumpy, but he gives me hugs and also he lets me have all his mushrooms and sometimes he shares his desserts with me. If you want, I can share him with you. But he’s my da-ge first, so don’t forget!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t steal him,” Lan Xichen promised, though he would have dearly liked a hug, and also maybe some dessert.

For the time being, Lan Xichen contented himself with Nie Huaisang’s explanation on how to climb a tree. It turned out that it wasn’t too hard, especially not for someone with martial art training, so Lan Xichen quickly got the hang of it and followed Nie Huaisang high up that tree.

The raven chicks really were extremely ugly, but Lan Xichen had to admit that they were also strangely cute. Nie Huaisang and him were laughing together about it when Nie-Furen and Lan Qiren found them. They’d been sitting on a branch for so long that it was very nearly night, and they had to be rescued. Nie Huaisang might have been very good at climbing trees, but it turned out that he still hadn’t learned how to get back down except by falling, or by having his brother climb up to get him. 

Since Nie Mingjue wasn’t there, it had to be Lan Qiren who went up to grab them. He looked very cross about it, which scared Lan Xichen at first. Then he noticed that Nie Huaisang was struggling not to giggle, and… and it was true that Lan Qiren was making a very funny face as he went up the tree, so Lan Xichen found himself laughing as well.

They were both still laughing when they hopped down from Lan Qiren’s shoulders onto the ground. Surely this insolence, combined with their earlier disobedience of Nie Mingjue’s order, should have gotten them punished. Indeed Nie-furen appeared in favour of that, but Lan Qiren looked at his nephew in a funny way before asking Nie-furen for leniency.

“I haven’t heard him laugh in all that time,” Lan Qiren explained, and immediately Nie-furen’s anger cooled down a little.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad in the Unclean Realm after all, Lan Xichen thought as they all walked away together to go have dinner. And maybe it would be okay that he was apparently linked by fate to someone like Nie Huaisang.

Lan Xichen was glad when his uncle told him that night before bed that since Lan Wangji’s wound was nothing bad at all, that their plan hadn’t changed and they would be staying a little while in the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

After all, Nie Mingjue had just promised Huaisang, Wangji, and him that he’d teach them how to climb down from trees, and that would surely be great fun.

[bonesbuckleup]

Lord, this answer got long. I’m a little embarrassed about it, but I wrote it, so it’s getting posted. It’s a literal essay. Sorry but also not?

TLDR: Yes, the show is arguably unfair to Sokka about Kya, but it also follows a pattern where Sokka stays quiet about Bad Feelings and plays by the rules established for his character. Katara, meanwhile, grieves loudly and often, and appears to be under the impression that because Sokka’s grief is silent it doesn’t exist, which also fits her character/interactions completely. Neither of them are right or wrong, but it sets them up on inevitable collisions.

Now. If you want to join me on a cactus-juice fueled descent into madness, proceed below the cut.

Number one. We’re referring to this exchange in “The Southern Raiders,” where the Gaang is talking about Zuko and Katara going after the man who killed Kya, which is vicious and brutal and never reflected on:

Aang: You sound like Jet. Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster. Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right. Katara (angry, yelling): Then you didn't love her the way I did! Sokka (visibly hurt, softly): Katara.

And that’s it. Upon returning, Katara apologizes to Aang and not, as Anon is absolutely correct in pointing out, to Sokka, who is 100% the more injured party. Now. Is it possible this is one of the rare missteps from the atla writers? Yes. Absolutely. Is that the answer I’m about to write a literal fucking essay about? No. Because it’s more painful fun to take it as face value and talk subtext.

First, a reminder that this show is fucking good at what it does. It teaches you how each character grieves as we go: Aang explodes, often triggering the Avatar state, usually crying or angry, and when he does try to repress his Bad Feelings it rarely lasts longer than a day; Toph either shuts down or gets mad, but either way she doesn’t like people seeing her having Bad Feelings and often storms away, knowing that she can’t control it no matter how much she might want to; Zuko yells at the sky in a rainstorm or yells at his dad in an underground tunnel or challenges Zhao to an Agni Kai or yells at his uncle in a jail cell and generally is an emotive nuclear bomb because the boy has feelings and if he keeps them inside for more than three seconds he might explode okay.

Then we have Katara and Sokka.

Let’s start with Katara, since she has the most textual and straightforward displays of grief. She’s really the only one to talk about Kya’s death in Book 1. If Sokka mentions it, it’s barely in passing. I don’t think we hear Hakoda address her death at all (which I’ll return to in a moment.) Katara’s grief is loud. It’s angry. It’s still very much a living thing for her. She thinks she sees Kya in the swamp and breaks down crying, and tells Aang and Sokka about it with no hesitation. When she’s angry and sad at Hakoda for leaving, she acts out and is visibly upset with him, yells at him, cries at him. She out-loud hates Zuko when she comes to the conclusion that he told her about Ursa and got her to talk about Kya to manipulate her. It isn’t that her grief is performative, because it’s a very real and terrible thing, but it’s a grief that’s to be witnessed.

Then, Sokka. Sokka’s grief is more complicated because it exists almost entirely in subtext, especially in regard to Kya. We really only hear him talk about Kya twice, both in Book 3. First, to Toph, when he tells her that he can’t remember what Kya looks like. Worth noting, however, that even though it is Sokka talking, this is still centered on Katara and Katara’s grief. The next time is when Zuko asks what happened to Kya, and Sokka tells the story that leads into the initial flashback. Sokka doesn’t talk about his mom. This is a fact of the show. It’s such a fact of the show that, in “Southern Raiders,” after the exchange at the start of this post, while Katara and Zuko are on the hunt, Sokka doesn’t bring up Kya again and is messing around with Aang. Like nothing has happened or is currently happening--which I’ll come back to in a moment.

So while we can use Kya as a perfect example of how Katara grieves, we can’t really use her for Sokka. So let’s use Yue instead. Moments we see (or don’t see) Sokka grieving Yue:

In the opening to Book 2, we briefly have a shot of Sokka with the moon imposed behind him.

“The Swamp,” where Sokka’s vision is of Yue accusing him of not protecting her. This one is one of the more textual moments of grief--”I think about Yue all the time”--but what’s awful great about it is how Sokka tells Aang and Katara. Aang, obviously, has no qualms about sharing his vision. Katara openly talks about seeing Kya. Sokka only tells them about Yue when explicitly asked. Even then, he doesn’t mention what she said to him. From this, we can assume that Sokka is still holding onto a lot of guilt over her death--guilt that he won’t let Aang and Katara see. Anyway. Moving on.

“The Serpent’s Pass.” After spending all day panic protecting Suki, he tells her that he lost someone, but doesn’t go much further into detail, just saying that he can’t when she tries to kiss him. Of course, this is all happening in front of the moon. Again, though, Sokka stays vague. He doesn’t tell her any details.

“The Puppetmaster,” Toph posits that maybe the moon spirit has gone mean and is kidnapping people. Sokka snaps at her, in a moment definitely meant for laughs, saying, “The Moon Spirit is a gentle, loving lady. She rules the sky with compassion and ... lunar goodness!” It is a funny moment, but here’s what we can take from it: Toph doesn’t know about Yue. Toph is a Feral Bastard a lot of the time, but she also knows where the line is, and I don’t think she’d’ve said that if she’d known.

“Boiling Rock,” in arguably the most quoted (and well deservedly so!) line in the entire show. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.” “...that’s rough, buddy.” COMEDIC GOLD. Also, weirdly, the literal only time that Sokka explicitly tells someone about Yue in the course of the show.

“Ember Island Players” which I haven’t hit in my rewatch yet, but I definitely remember a moment where Suki asks Sokka when he was gonna tell her he made out with the moon, and he tearfully shushes her. Again, played for laughs, but the implication is that he still hasn’t told Suki about what happened.

This plays perfectly into the same way that Sokka (doesn’t) talks about his mom. When the Bad Feelings come, Sokka either avoids them and finds a distraction (Goofs with Aang--see, told ya we’d come back to that) or stays silent. When someone explicitly asks him about the Bad Feelings--what he saw in the swamp, what’s eating at him in “Sokka’s Master,” why he’s panic-protecting Suki--he’ll answer, but often talks around the actual issue. (Interestingly, it’s in regard to Suki we see the most explicit manifestation of Sokka grieving as Azula taunts him during the invasion: he cries, he attacks Azula, he yells and questions her despite the fact he knows she’s wasting their time. I think this one hits him because, as this beautiful post points out, Suki’s the protector in the relationship, and Sokka can actually chill out for 2 seconds. But he let his guard down, and Azula got Suki. Anyway. That’s probably a different essay: back to the matter at hand.) We even see this in “Boiling Rock.” There’s a moment where they think Hakoda is not with the other political prisoners. Sokka’s tense, drawn tight, but the only thing he says is, “No.”

Basically, we’ve got Katara, who grieves loudly and rages and is kinda like white-water rapids that churn and churn and churn. And we’ve got Sokka, who, to quote John Mulaney, looks at his grief and says, “I’ll just keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die.” Iceberg grief, to keep the water metaphor going.

And where did these come from? Yup! Water Tribe gender roles! What we know from the show is that, while the South is typically more progressive (women can train as benders and marry who they want, at least) than the North, it’s still very rigid: the men are warriors/hunters/protectors, the women stay home to cook/clean/child-rear.

Now: subtext! And why I think they are this way!

We’ll start with Katara. The last waterbender in the South Pole. She no doubt grew up doted on. If I say she’s most likely a little spoiled, I don’t mean it in a bad way--I mean it in a she’s the last living remnant of this aspect of their culture kind of way. When raiders come, she’s probably the first priority to protect. Kya dies to keep her safe. Her needs are generally put before the community as a whole. (This isn’t to say that Katara doesn’t contribute or care about her community, because she 100% does). But! Especially in Book 1, we see Katara often considering her opinions as facts (trusting Jet, the waterbending scroll) and doesn’t always pause to consider the larger impact that her actions will have (scroll and Jet again, challenging Pakku, dressing up as the Painted Lady despite the fact the factory will hold the village responsible). And many of these actions are good! But we see a lot of Katara being pretty self-centered--what can I do, how does this impact me, how do I feel about this? And this isn’t a bad thing! This aspect of her character makes her complicated and complex! Katara loves her family and protecting people and caring for them! She’s extremely empathetic! But she also struggles to meet people where they’re at when they emote in a different way than she does (see: her clashes with Toph, her initial problems with Zuko joining the group, the above interaction with Sokka). It’s also worth talking about how Katara witnessed her mother’s death, which no doubt makes her grief about it a sharper thing.

Then, again, Sokka. Also loved in his community! But a normal kind of love, I’d assume. He probably was raised on stories of the Fire Nation dragging waterbenders away. No one exemplifies the Water Tribe ride-or-die mentality quite as well as Sokka, or the gender roles of the man as the warrior/protector, so you gotta believe Hakoda raised that kid to look after his sister at all costs, which we see throughout the show (already preparing to go after Aang in the South Pole because he know Katara’s going anyway, “You burned my sister!”) And he isn’t there when his mom dies. He finds out later. He goes from feeling like a victor who helped chased the raiders away to the worst realization of his life. I have to imagine he’s ashamed by the fact that he thought everything was going to be okay, which leads into his worldview of assuming that nothing is okay ever in any circumstance.

Finally, Hakoda. Who never, unless I’ve forgotten something, talks about Kya. All we know is that their family fell apart after her death (per Sokka in “The Runaway,” learning how Katara stepped up to hold everything together) and sometime after he took the warriors and straight up left. He apologizes for leaving but doesn’t address the fact that he left Katara and Sokka with no parents at all, only the war. This is, uh, not exactly echoing a healthy coping mechanism?

My theory: Kya dies. Since the Water Tribe is so embedded in gender roles, Hakoda probably shut down and/or checked out emotionally for a while. This leaves his kids on their own to deal with their shit, and we learn Katara does everything she can to keep her family going. As the most protected individual in the South, Katara’s probably been taught that emotions equal attention, and uses her temper/caring/sadness to help bring her community closer. Meanwhile, Sokka, who hero worships his dad, watches Hakoda go stoic and learns that “real men” shove their shit down. Additionally, Katara’s grief is deafeningly loud, and Sokka’s number 1 role is to keep Katara safe. He’s taught that the Bad Feelings only get in the way and make things worse, and so he learns to be fine no matter what kind of terrible is going down around him.  Basically, Katara learns to use grief as a needle and thread, and Sokka learns to bury it as deep as he can and avoid it at all costs. Opposite reactions to the same trauma. Katara gets mad and demands to be heard and listened to and seen, and Sokka gets sarcastic and prepares himself for the day the Fire Nation ships come back for his sister.

So. Back to those above lines from “Southern Raiders.”

From a writing standpoint, I do wish the final moment was between Katara and Sokka versus Katara and Aang. They could’ve had an almost identical interaction, but it would’ve been more nuanced. I don’t think that Katara needed to apologize, but I think we needed some acknowledgement from both of them: Katara continuing the lesson she’s learned about how her pain doesn’t entitle her to hurt other people (including Sokka, who is there no matter what she says or does), and Sokka that Katara’s process of grieving had to involve this catharsis.

Or. Maybe not. Because again--subtext. Their grief works in such different ways that I have to imagine this isn’t a new fight. It was probably brutal and vicious for a very long time. Maybe that’s part of what made Sokka try and go with the warriors. Maybe that’s part of why Katara gets mad so quickly in the first episode of the show. But eventually, unable to find an answer, they just...stop talking about it. Because the two of them don’t talk about it. Katara only talks about her mom with people who aren’t Sokka, and Sokka does exclusively to Toph and Zuko.

The only time I can think of Katara and Sokka talking about it together is the exchange at the top of this post, and it gets ugly fast, and it isn’t brought up again. It’s a fight that will never be resolved, because they fundamentally can’t react to one another in a way that can be universally understood.

“You didn’t love her the way I did!” Katara yells, loudly, because if Sokka loved her then why isn’t he raging? Why isn’t he getting his sword and coming to help her? Why doesn’t Sokka want to burn this firebender to the ground and make him see and hear and look at what he’s done to the world? To their family? He must not understand. He must not care as much or he’d be screaming with her.

“Katara,” Sokka says, much quieter, and adds nothing else. Not because there isn’t anything else to say, but because Sokka can’t talk about this kind of thing. Not doesn’t want to, but can’t, because it’s his job to protect people, protect Katara, and if he lets all those old hurts come boiling up he can’t do that, because that ends with losing focus and losing control and people getting hurt or going away. Why can’t she understand that?

And then they do what they always do. They don’t bring it up again.

[harrin-king]

prompt: pre-Harringrove. Steve inadvertently sees how Neil treats Billy after a bb game or dropping off Max or something. Billy thinks Steve is going to use info against him. Steve gains his trust somehow.

Warnings for parental abuse of minors and for homophobic language (specifically the f-slur). 

It’s the first game Steve’s been cleared to play in since that night and he’s fucking exhausted. He’s out of shape from the practices he’s missed, and he still can’t breathe quite right, like his nose healed wrong or something. 

It was obvious to anyone watching, too. He played like shit and Billy didn’t pick up the slack like Steve thought he would. No. He just kept shooting grimaces at Steve, nervous glances at the stands, a feral narrowing of his eyes at anyone who came near him, teammates and opposition alike. 

Destroying Steve’s face and Hawkin’s chances to go to the championships, all in a few weeks. Billy was something, alright. 

Steve rested his beat-up, tired frame against the brick outside the gym, tucked into the same alleyway where he stood when Nancy made clear, for the second time in 24 hours, that she didn’t love him. 

He tries to catch his breath, pours the remnants of his water bottle over his face, swipes his hands over his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

There’s footsteps outside of Steve’s alcove, voices too. The rest of the team must be done in the locker room. It doesn’t matter- whoever is walking by will breeze right past him in the dark. 

But it’s not the rest of the team, there’s only one voice, only two sets of feet walking by. 

“You really are pathetic, you know that?” Steve can see the speaker, a mustached man, but not much else. Whoever is on the receiving end of this comment doesn’t respond, making it impossible for Steve to guess which of his teammates is getting chewed out. 

“Honestly. You were shit at baseball, now you’re shit at basketball. Your sister can play basketball. Gary’s kid from back home could play basketball and his kid was a fucking faggot. You think that reflects well on me? On our family?”

The second voice speaks up. “Not my sister.” 

Billy. 

There’s the sickening sound of a mass of a body hitting brick, the impact of a skull soon after. 

“That’s what you’re choosing to correct me on? Don’t tell me my son is a faggot too.” 

Steve’s entire body may still hurt from Billy’s fists, but it’s taking every ounce of his will to not put a stop to what he’s overhearing, to not shove this man away from his son. 

“No, sir.” Billy’s voice is so quiet, so- so broken, that Steve feels stunned. There’s no bravado, no confidence. There’s just fear, numbness to what’s occurring, an indication that this has happened before and it will happen again. 

“So I raised a faggot and a liar.” There’s one more blow, a kick maybe. 

“You can walk home. I’m driving Susan and Maxine now.” A pause. “And the door will be locked by the time you get back.” 

Billy’s father walks away. After a few moments of sickening silence, there’s a gasp of breath that morphs into a sob.

It occurs to Steve that he should do something. Leave so that Billy can save face. Run to Billy to comfort him. 

Call Hopper so that this never happens again. 

But before Steve can make the choice, Billy’s body drags itself into Steve’s alley. 

With his head down, tucked to his chest, Billy takes a few more gasping breaths. It dawns on Steve that Billy’s crying. 

“Um,” Steve clears his throat.

Billy’s head whips up, causing him to wince in pain, and then his face drains of blood. He rushes to stand. 

“Harrington. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hiding in an alley to catch my breath because I think you’ve permanently destroyed my nose. 

“Just. Decompressing?” 

Fury overtakes Billy’s face, then fear. It looks so foreign on him, so unlike Billy Hargrove, that Steve wants to throw up. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Harrington. Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Steve’s taken aback. “Wha-”

“I swear, Harrington.” Billy’s closer now, getting in Steve’s face. “You tell anyone what just happened, what you saw, what you-” he grimaces. “-heard. I’ll make breaking a plate over your head feel like a picnic.” 

Steve just blinks at him. He doesn’t feel threatened, just concerned. Just desperate to help, to fix this. “Why would I tell anyone?” 

Billy laughs, even though Steve can tell it’s hurting his head to do so. “Don’t play dumb. You have every reason to hate me. Whatever petty revenge plot is going through your head, just forget about it.” 

Steve must look unconvinced because the cruel laugh slips from Billy’s face, something resembling desperation replacing it. “Please, Steve.”

This use of his name jolts him from his silence. “I’m not going to. I- I know what that’s like, shitty fathers. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.” 

Billy still looks wary. 

“Last year. Jonathan Byers beat the shit out of me. When my dad saw, he… he was really upset. With me, though, not with Jonathan. Called me a pussy, a… a fag for getting beat by someone like Byers. He didn’t give a fuck that I was hurt.”

Billy raises an eyebrow, though Steve can’t decipher it’s meaning, so he presses on. “So, there. Now you know some shitty thing that my dad did to me. And that I got the shit beat out of me by Jonathan of all people. Now I can’t tell anyone about what just happened to you, cause you can double back, yeah?” 

Finally, Billy looks up at him, making eye contact for the first time since they’ve been talking. He gives a sad smile. “Sure, pretty boy. But at least when your dad said it, it wasn’t true.” 

Confusion runs through Steve, then realization. Billy is-

Oh. 

Steve thinks about the way Billy spoke to him in the showers, the antagonistic way he’d goad on him in basketball. Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington? 

He thinks about sleepovers with Tommy, limbs tangling a little too close, fingers and thighs brushing when they shouldn’t. 

He thinks about Billy’s eyes, so blue, like an ocean he’s never seen. He thinks about how seeing pain in those eyes made him hurt too. Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Hargrove.” 

Billy looks up at him, bewildered. 

“Come on, I’ll drive you home. We can stop for a burger, if you want. That game was fuckin’ brutal.” 

Billy laughs and Steve thinks he sees Billy’s real smile for the first time. “Yeah. Fuckin’ brutal.”

[cyberdck]

Maybe we can get some platonic/familial Silverhand+V!Reader where V is his grandkid from a fling when he was alive and it just bites him back in the ass?

— johnny silverhand ft angst angst angst with a dash of family + brief character study

this probably turned out more angsty than you had in mind but mistakes were made and here we are

the moment he realizes it, it’s already seconds too late.

minutes.

hours.

going on days of verbal abuse and mental deterioration set in motion by his own cruel will and abrasive temperament.

how could have known? he hardly knew anything past the barrage of your thoughts and the turmoil of accepting his death and new fate. he’d been torn from his past and set dead straight on derailing your future.

there were just so many memories to untangle, yours and his. faces were a blur and voices even less clear.

those thoughts-reflections- he needed to know had been sealed away the first day of his new life he begun. knock back into the recesses of your mind with each impact of your head against the window of your skyline view.

fuck if he hadn’t jarred your own memories- made it that much easier to forget why his face had been so familiar upon his first appearance.

you were more than the aged fan from his decades old career. the slow trickle of your fingers against that beat up guitar had stopped long ago after he’d berated you for the infantilism his classic hits- tearing the soul from the intended tune with your amateur playing. now he wonders if you’d been playing for yourself at all or was it all feeble attempt reach out to him?

and he just took those offered hands and crushed them to your chest. even from the inside of your head, he had a mirrored view of your face. a front row seat to the transition of emotions from fragility to hardness. that’s really where he should have seen it.

in that low shadow of your brow when your face pinched in annoyance. he was looking at a reflection after all.

minors adjustments and mixed genes all trickling down from an inferno romance that had ended the night he decided to be a true samurai.

he couldn’t blame you for wanting to withhold information when he finally built up the sense to ask. the visor of anger was ripped away now, eradicating any semblance of blindness he could grapple with.

it took days of shifting, adjusting his personality and mannerisms to shed away the abrasive exterior you’d come to know.

to hate.

johnny had never wanted-

hardly imagined having-

but to have you despise him at the end of it?

it wasn’t something he could bare.

your grandmother, you admitted finally, loved to place him on a pedestal. called him a hero for sticking to his beliefs, even if the rippling effect never came in her lifetime.

would come, she still believed, certain that with time the graves he’d rocked would come to life.

if only she could see him now.

johnny figured she was dead. your grandmother. his last physical attraction.

when you finally released those memories, he found those to be the deppest. ones readily swept away without his provocation.

she’d been your rock. the placeholder for your own parents that hadn’t amounted to much as guardians. filled your childhood with promises of warmth and love. and stocked the empty spaces with lyrics and melodies from her heart.

johnny’s songs were never meant to be lullabies for children but they became household nuemonics anyway. songs sang during everyday tasks and hummed against your temple as she tended to scrapped knees and blooming bruises.

without his knowledge, johnny had already been a prominent feature in your life. the envision of him. the determined samurai who’d never stepped down for anything.

had been ripped away by the reality of a nicotine addict with a short fuse and fists to match.

you felt as much as a grandkid as he felt as a grandfather.

two puzzle pieces that seemed misplaced even as they’re forced into a wedge together.

much like the intertwining of two minds.

jonnny only knew how to slap a bandage on gaping wounds. left to watch and see if the two sides fused together or stretched further apart.

he mentioned your old guitar more, reminding you of the carved wood stashed away in the back of your closet like a forgotten memory. most of the time you brushed him off, adding that he should focus on the next job.

each new gig would be one step closer to reversing the effects of the chip malfunction and finally separating you for good.

but what happened then?

if the chip was removed he still didn’t have a body to return to. he’d still be a lost code in the space of a matrix with no source to cling to for resolution.

he’d be alone and so would you.

two lingering souls from a damaged linage with no real future.

if he was meant to go back down in a fiery inferno then he refused to bring you down with him.

refused to leave you with the lingering scorch marks.

so he tried.

kept urging you to close the gape.

he was more helpful than scornful when offering advice. the bitter taste of sarcasm was still a lingering flavor on his tongue but he bit it back.

when he flickered into view, he stood closer. only a touch away as if he could catch you when you finally buckled under the stress.

if you appreciated that changes, you did a hell of a job of not letting it show. every step closer to the ultimate goal only served to steel your focus.

no.

he’d ironed out that hardened flesh and now you were making it your own.

maybe he could have loved your grandmother. he wasn’t really sure.

something like that felt frivolous to him back then a brief euphemism in society. he would have hated to see his kid swallowed up the the jaws of capitalism.

now here you were about to break them.

he was proud.

and he wanted you to know it too.

so he kept trying.

reminding you to eat. to stay hydrated. to take a break after one too many bearings came too close for call.

to take your medicine.

‘oh, now you’re okay with me shutting you up?’

he could only shrug with a crooked smile. parenting was about ripping your own heart out as an offering right? he’d bled for night city.

he’d snuff out his own flame for you.

he learns about the foods you like and the alcohols you could do without. finds out why you’re so adverse to smoking.

the short answer that it kills so so obvious yet too close to home.

he never offers or requests the taste of nicotine again.

it took sometime but eventually the soft strumming of chords finally made themselves home again in the little apartment.

gone were the crude comments, slating out aggressive pride for constructive criticism.

‘your finger goes here. no, not that one. it will just get in the way. ‘

the songs weren’t a perfect rendition. he later learned that they weren’t meant to be. your grandmother had softened the edges little make them more bite-sized for the mind of a child. and the alterations just stuck with you all these years.

it wasn’t what he envisioned for them, not while lying awake in the back of the tour bus struggling to string together two sentences.

neither was this life; trapped in the skull of his grandchild still scrapping for a chance of survival.

but it was fitting for an old samurai. the wake of tragedy left behind fertile grounds for new beginnings.

and he had a few more things to accomplish before his chapter came to a final close.

making sure you didn’t regret ever knowing him would be his last.

[writingbeary]

Kingdom - To The World (pt.1)

Minyoung’s Outfit

Note:

Texts placed inside brackets are Kingdom’s show subtitles

Italicized texts are in English

Texts that are block quoted are interview cuts

────────── ♔ ──────────

“We have a lot of songs that go well with the theme ‘To the World’, so it’s a relief. We decided that we’ll continue what ATEEZ has been doing.” Hongjoong declared during the group interview after the theme was released.

As the teams arrived in their individual waiting rooms, the first thing they noticed is the queue sheet pasted on the wall. Minyoung the first one inside the room, ran to the poster to check which order they got.

“Omo!” Minyoung cheered, jumping around the waiting room, making the others immediately check what she’s dancing about.

“Why? Why?” Yunho asked as he entered the room followed by the rest of the members.

“We’re performing 5th!” Minyoung announced still jumping around the waiting room in joy. She took Jongho’s hands and made him jump with her, the latter going along with her laughing.

"It seems like my telepathy to Changbin worked.” Wooyoung declared jokingly. The whole group feeling relieved that they weren’t performing first this round. When asked what order they wanted to perform in, they wanted to go as late as possible. Although it’ll give them pressure to do better as they watch the senior groups’ performances, they felt their stage would have a bigger impact the later they perform.

“Does that mean you’ll use up most of your glowsticks before our performance?” Yunho asked eyeing the bag Minyoung is carrying. She excitedly told them about how she bought the sticks in replacement of the lightsticks for the groups and about how she kept her promise to represent all fandoms in the show.

“I can’t believe she actually bought some just to prove she’s a fan.” San laughed when Minyoung playfully stuck out her tongue at him

“I wanted to bring my lightsticks but since we still have a schedule after this, I was forbidden from doing so.” Minyoung pouted bringing out the package of glow sticks “This is the closest thing I could bring.”

“Don’t you have key rings?” Jongho asked as Minyoung gasps in realization.

“I do! Ah..but I only have iKON-sunbaenim’s key ring. I wasn’t able to buy anything else.” 

Chuckling, Yeosang offered another alternative for the girl “Then just use Lightiny and change it’s color to every group’s official colors?”

Minyoung gaped at the suggestion, nodding and quickly hugging Yeosang in her excitement “Oh! I didn’t think of that. I’ll do that for the next recording then. Thank you oppa!”

(At Stray Kids’ meeting)

“How about we place ATEEZ as the first performer?” Jisung suggested as everyone was contemplating on who should go first after Jeongin suggested iKON since they went last or THE BOYZ since they have prior experience with Road to Kingdom.

“Are you sure about that? Minyoung will have your head if you do that. Wooyoung will probably have mine too.” Changbin laughed already seeing how the girl would react when she sees it.

“On second thought, nevermind. Please don’t put ATEEZ at the first slot. I need to live. Minyoung-ah, I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.” Jisung said dramatically to the camera, making the whole group laugh at his antics.

Changbin placed the rest of the nameplates on the board “Let’s go 4th, then place ATEEZ after with SF9 last.” checking to see the rest of the group’s reaction before continuing “I’m satisfied with this but should we go first or ATEEZ first?”

“Let’s go first.” Seungmin declared with I.N agreeing with him “Let’s go first. We just need to do better.” the confidence in the statement making all of Stray Kids excited

“What if ATEEZ leaves a strong impact with their performance?” Felix asked the group after looking at the whole lineup

“We don’t know about that. But if it’s ATEEZ, it’s going to be big. Their energy on stage is what they’re known for after all.” Changbin shrugged as he knows what the group is capable of.

“Right. I’m sure they’ll do something surprising this round.” Felix nodded as they decided to let it up to fate and just perform 4th. Just like how Seungmin declared, they just needed to do better and that’s what they’ll aim for.

(During THE BOYZ’s Stage)

“This is it.” San exclaimed pointing at the screen.

“Quiet. Don’t speak.” Wooyoung cutting San off as he focused on the screen

Minyoung scooted her chair closer to Seonghwa, making herself comfortable hugging his arm as if they were just watching a show at their dorms. One hand holding up a glow stick to represent a lightstick for all the groups that will be performing.

“The water froze. Omo. Now it’s fire. Are they going for the theme Game of Thrones for the whole show?” Minyoung said under her breath afraid Wooyoung would scold her. She gasped when she realized how the camera looks like a game point-of-view, as if one is wearing VR headsets. 

When the fire went out, Minyoung slapped Seonghwa’s arm in realization. “They cannot be together because they’re Ice while the lady is Fire. Omo” The latter already used to the girl’s habits chuckled, patting her hand as he returned his focus on the performance.

“He’s hanging up there! Is he going up now? That’s sick!” Wooyoung exclaimed in awe as Sunwoo’s part came in.

“How are they coming up with that?” Seonghwa wondered outloud when Juyeon danced in front of the white sheet. “THE BOYZ really works well with their concepts.” Yunho added engrossed at the stage

“THE BOYZ-sunbaenim’s dance is really knife-like. They’re all in sync with each other.” Minyoung said catching herself and closing her mouth which was open throughout the performance. “Will we be able to do that too?”

“Yah. Do you want us to die? Don’t drag everyone in, just try it with the dance line and be satisfied with that please.” Hongjoong jokingly warned the girl while Yeosang let out a laugh shaking his head “Please don’t give her ideas.”

“So it started with snow and ended with fire?” San asked outloud still processing what happened when Minyoung pouted and answered him “I told you. THE BOYZ-sunbaenim are Ice while the lady was fire which is why they couldn’t be together!”

“That was awesome.” Hongjoong commented as the stage ended

“I knew they would pull it off, but Juhaknyeon kept saying ‘We already tried everything.’ But look at them!” Wooyoung ranted feeling betrayed by his friend

“Also, No Air means out of air.” Jongho started then Wooyoung gasped as if suddenly realizing the concept. “Oh, is that why they started underwater?”

“Then the water froze.” San added in “The freezing part was the start.” 

“I suddenly got goosebumps.” Yunho replied recalling the moments of the performance

“I already told you guys. You’re not listening to me.” Minyoung sulked, making Seonghwa laugh lightly and pat her back. “Don’t worry Minyoung-ah. I heard you.” Minyoung leaned her head on the eldest saying “This is why you’re the best oppa.”

“Like always, THE BOYZ-sunbaenim did such a fantastic job.” San concluded with the others agreeing.

(During iKON’s meeting)

[iKON called SF9 Chani for help with song recommendations]

Chani: It’s a secret but..when I was filming <Sky Castle>..

Yunhyeong: You filmed that with ATEEZ’ Minyoung right? That drama?

Chani: Yes. I did it with Minyoung. When we were filming for the drama, the two of us listened to <Killing Me> a lot.

Yunhyeong: <Killing Me>? Why?

Junhoe: Was the drama killing you? *laughs*

Chani: It was challenging to film the drama. That’s one reason, but the song comforted me a lot. I mean it. You can ask Minyoung about it too since we both found comfort with it.

iKON members: *laugh* <Killing Me>

[An interesting choice for the 2 acting idols]

DK: Acting must have been so hard *chuckle*

Bobby: It must’ve been tough for it to be <Killing Me>

Chani: The song really hit home for me

(During iKON’s stage)

“What song did iKON-sunbaenim pick? It must have been really tough to pick from all their songs.”  Minyoung asked scooting a bit closer to the monitor

“Is it <Love Scenario>?” Wooyoung gasped as the MCs hinted that the song they chose made iKON rank number one a lot. 

“But when I saw iKON-sunbaenim in the hallway, they were all wearing black so for it to be <Love Scenario>... Did they rearrange the song completely?” Minyoung wondered out loud as the hints all point toward Love Scenario.

“The number of views is reflected on the points. <Love Scenario> is widely known by among international fans.” Jongho noted remembering the criteria for the point system.

“That’s right. So they’re more likely to rank higher this time around.” San nodded

“Oh? She disappeared.” Yunho exclaimed surprised as Bobby came into the screen with his arms around a girl who suddenly disappeared.

“The End. Love Scenario’s lyrics are really sad despite the bright music. Are they changing it up to be more dramatic?” Minyoung asked as the music is still bare except the piano chords in the background.

“I feel like I’m watching a movie” Hongjoong commented as tune continued on when suddenly the accompaniment changed into a musical style song. Minyoung was singing along softly in her seat as the chorus played.

Yunho looked at Minyoung and nudged her lightly when DK’s solo part came again. He was grinning slightly while Minyoung slapped his arm lightly. “Don’t.” was all Minyoung said just as the music changed into Killing Me.

“Omo. He fell! Oh no. What is happening? Why is the camera blocking-..why is it so dark.” Minyoung confused at what is happening then the drop in the music made her gasp in surprise “That line! It’s..from Big Bang song. Omo.” Seonghwa had to hold on to Minyoung’s chair to stop her from scooting closer to the monitor.

ATEEZ all exclaimed when Chanwoo threw the lighter as the fire effects happened in the background. “This is it.” Wooyoung commented as the whole group bobbed along with the beat.

“Their stage really is killing me. Wah” San exclaimed as the stage came to an end. “That was a short 4 minute performance.”

“The tragedy of love. I think they had a great story like us.” Yunho noted during the group interview

Wooyoung piped in “Bobby-sunbaenim captivated everyone’s attention in the beginning." with San and Minyoung following up with "His gestures were really cool." "It felt as if we were watching his Show Me The Money stage."

(During BTOB’s Stage)

"Omo. It's BTOB-sunbaenim next!" Minyoung exclaimed when the next performer is called.

"She's starting. She's starting to fangirl." San chuckled as he looked on to the girl.

"If they also sing their famous songs then it's done. If it's <I'll Be Your Man> or <Missing You>, it's over. Game over." Minyoung made slicing motions with her hand. "Everyone knows those songs even if they're not a fan."

When the instrumental for Missing You played, Minyoung immediately grabbed unto Seonghwa's arm again already into the song. “That is so awesome” Wooyoung gasped in awe as soon as Changsub started the song.

“This is so cool” Hongjoong commented as soon as the screened dancers came into view with Peniel rapping.”Omo. Their harmonies really.” Minyoung looked about ready to melt in her seat, the rest of the members just chuckling at her reactions

“Take responsibility.” everyone from ATEEZ rapped along with Minhyuk as if doing the fanchant for the song.

"Omo. Minhyuk-sunbaenim!" Minyoung exclaimed as the sword dance and fight sequence happened. "He looks so cool. It’s just like watching a historical action drama.”

Yeosang was surprised when Minhyuk did the motion as if he’ll be taking his top off “What? What’s that?” Seonghwa’s hand automatically moving to cover Minyoung’s view while the girl grabbed it trying to see what is happening. Everyone chuckled when it was nothing while Minyoung pouted. “Why do you cover my eyes?”

“You’re still a baby.” Seonghwa answered seriously with Minyoung mumbling “Then why do you and San-oppa..” Yunho who was seating beside her laughed at the comment.

“Omo. It turned to Spring! Did a year pass already? Omo.” Minyoung gasped in realization as the song ended with petals falling down as if it’s Cherry Blossom season.

(During Stray Kids’ stage)

As soon as Stray Kids took the stage, the camera focused on floor with white sheet covering the dancers “What is this already? What are they going to do now?” Minyoung asked already anticipating an explosive performance from the current number 1 group from the Introduction Stage.

“What will they do on stage?” Jongho asked the same, intrigued by the stage set up from the start

The song started off eerie making Minyoung scoot closer to Seonghwa, half hiding but still looking at the monitors. “I’m scared.” she whispered as the song turns darker with Han’s part. “It’s <Side Effects>? But this is scary.”

“Their ideas are so..wow.” San could only exclaim in awe as Felix’s part started.

“What is happening? Omo. <God’s Menu> suddenly?” Minyoung gasped as the song suddenly changed but maintaining the darker atmosphere of the opening.

“Jisung-ah” she called out as Han did his solo parts “This is an entirely different song!”

“They’re hung upside down!” Yunho pointed out when a dancer was mirroring Chan’s moves. “Omo. That must have been so difficult.” Minyoung noted

“They’re using the stage in various ways.” San chuckled in awe as the set changed again

“Waah. I can’t take my eyes off it.” Hongjoong confessed as the song approached it’s climax

“Youngbok’s voice is really...” Wooyoung started while Minyoung nodded enthusiastically “Right?! A lot of people loves his voice. It’s so charming and it just..draws you right in.”

The rest of Stray Kids’ performance were audibly enjoyed by Wooyoung and Minyoung, both were letting out sounds of awe particularly when their friends gets a camera close-up.

“That was so fun! I mean it was eerie especially during the first part but when it changed to <God’s Menu>, it’s like their energy just exploded.” Minyoung said as she clapped for the group, still feeling the excitement and still in awe of their stage “I can’t believe that was just 4 minutes. Their ideas really...wow.”

“Now it’s your turn to awe them with our performance.” Yunho chuckled as the girl’s expression suddenly turned blank as if just remembering that they are performing next.

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

Again, this release is cut into two parts hahaha! I want to say look forward to part 2. as I did more than just cover the actual episode. Like I said last post, I will be slowing down the Kingdom updates. Although I do have until Reborn stages drafted, I feel like I need to pace it out to avoid spoilers for those who haven’t watched the recent episodes. Again, thank you for reading! Tell me what you think about it. 

-Mimi

14

[moonbeamsung]

I Love You, Rain or Shine

No matter the weather, I hope you’ll be mine...

member: jisung

au: best friend!jisung x gn!reader

word count: 7.9k

genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst

warnings: kissing, mentions of insecurities

author’s note: My first Jisung story! In this one, there are multiple flashbacks, and I’ve indicated which parts they are by the extended italicized sections. When I started editing this, it was just under 6k words and now it’s almost 8k...oops :) Let’s just hope it posts correctly now because I just gave myself a heart attack thinking I lost it all. I hope you enjoy the fic!

The smell of fresh linen sheets and the feeling of warm sunlight pouring through the sheer white curtains greets your senses as you awaken, tucked tightly beneath the blankets of your hotel bed.

The queen-sized mattress had looked absolutely heavenly last night, and you were looking forward to having it all to yourself, but once you settled under the soft covers it felt empty. As you laid awake, eyes staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, you found yourself longing for someone to share it with.

More specifically, your best friend Jisung, who was also in a queen-sized bed of his own just across the room. His even, steady breaths echoed in the silence, soon lulling you to sleep.

The next morning your eyes land on his slender figure, facing away from you as his chest rises and falls in a natural rhythm. As you watch him with heavy eyelids, he stirs and turns to lie on his back, granting you a view of his profile. The light shines brightly on his features and illuminates his smooth skin, casting a shadow on one side of his face and creating a stunning silhouette.

The curves of his straight nose, barely parted full lips, gentle cheekbones, and sharp jawline captivate you and receive every ounce of your attention. You want nothing more than to run your fingers through his dark bangs, pushing them back from his forehead as you gaze at every perfect imperfection.

Oh, how you envied the sunbeams that could caress every inch of his handsome face with such grace and elegance. The lighting makes him appear so delicate, so vulnerable, like he would shatter into thousands of pieces at even the tenderest of touches.

The sound of footsteps on the other side of your door is just loud enough to wake the sleeping boy. You continue to gaze at him as he sighs deeply, his long eyelashes fluttering open. A quiet groan escapes his lips as he stretches his limbs, legs visibly extending under the covers and arms reaching out above his head.

Those footsteps are then followed by the muffled voices of your and his younger siblings, and even a few rooms away you can still tell that they’re speaking at a volume far too high for 8:30 in the morning.

You suppose it’s why you’ve become so close with each other. You both grew up as the oldest child, expected to be a mature role model for your little brothers and sisters to follow. By no means were your parents unreasonably harsh or strict about this, but that responsibility of yours went out the window and was long forgotten during the time you spent with him.

You both could act as crazy as you wanted, laugh at the dumbest jokes and forget about setting an example and just be your authentic, real selves around each other. While your similar family situations brought the two of you together, it also led to all of your siblings and your parents getting to know each other, too.

Jisung shifts once again, now lying on his other side and facing you. “Good morning,” he tells you with a raspy voice and a sleepy grin. You return his words with a small smile of your own, eyes still drowsily fixed on his form across from you. Who knew bed hair could look so attractive?

He’s just about to sit upright when four hyper children burst through the doorway, one pair of them jumping up onto his bed and the other making their way over to yours. It was at moments like these when you thought about just how much you had in common with him. Each of you had a younger brother and sister, one slightly older than the other by a year or two. In your case it was your brother that was older, in his case, his sister.

His siblings all but throw themselves at him, landing on his chest and giggling when he whines, complaining about “personal space.” Yours, although still rambunctious, are more gentle with you and settle for the smaller impact of a hug before they both sit down on either side of you.

“Can we trade?”

You look over and chuckle quietly to yourself at the sight of his siblings pinning him down by sitting on his torso, still covered by the bedsheets.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him tap their shoulders, telling them that if they let him sit up he could reach the remote and turn the TV on for them to watch. They waste no time in scrambling off of their older brother, allowing him the freedom to move (and breathe) again. As he does so, the blanket falls from his shoulders all the way down to his waist, revealing his nightshirt-clad torso that you often found yourself clinging to so dearly in a snug embrace when it was just the two of you.

“Are those the pajamas I gave you?”

Two days before his 18th birthday. You were struggling as you always did to find just the right gift for him, but this year felt different. It really needed to be perfect.

You were about to give up and just ask him what he wanted because you were completely at a loss. As luck would have it, he showed up at your front door right as you were about to leave for his house.

Opening it, you stumbled back with surprise when you saw him standing there, arm extended towards the doorbell. A sheepish smile overtook his features as he apologized, hurrying forward to take you in his arms and make sure you didn’t fall, one hand gently gripping your wrist and the other supporting your shoulder. Recovering from the initial shock, your expression softened and you straightened, your gaze hesitantly drifting up to his eyes and then down to your sneakers.

“I was just about to come see you, y’know.” “Really?” he exclaimed, eyes becoming impossibly wider. You nodded. “What are the chances?” Even without looking at him, you could still picture the pure astonishment on his face as he said those words.

For the rest of the afternoon he would playfully bug you for answers about the present you got him this year.

“Pleeeeeease tell me? What is it what is it what is it what is—”

“Shhh,” you had held a finger to his lips, only temporarily silencing his endless inquiries. His gaze followed the action, the cross-eyed expression looking nothing short of endearing on him. “I don’t know,” had been your response, the blatant honesty of the statement going right over his head.

Several hours later, the grass in your backyard blew against your warm skin in the crisp February breeze. You were both lying on the ground, staring up into the vast heavens that happened to be full of twinkling celestial bodies that night.

“There’s Venus,” he had pointed out, “The closest one to the horizon.”

“You mean that one right there?”

“...No, that’s a plane. It’s moving.”

He turned his head to the side, studying you with an unamused expression before bursting into loud laughter at your apologetic pout.

When the moment had passed and it was quiet between you once again, as inconspicuously as possible, you repositioned one of your arms behind your head. You leaned slightly upwards, high enough to be able to see his dark brown eyes that had turned into inky pools under the dark sky. You noticed how they reflected the bright stars above so clearly, and in that moment something clicked.

“You see the moon? Tonight it looks like it’s in the waxing gibbous stage, which means we should see a full—what are you doing? Is there something on my face?”

With every second that you didn’t answer him, too busy using your best friend’s eyes to stargaze instead of a telescope, his face grew redder. He was sure his face was the color of Mars by the time you finally noticed you’d been staring.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry...” you trailed off, now feeling a bit flustered yourself.

A beat of silence. Then, you spoke up again.

“Wanna know something?” you had asked him, rolling onto your side and propping your head up with an elbow.

Curiosity permeated his entire demeanor in that moment. After meeting his eyes, you continued your thought, an unusual surge of bravery coursing through your veins.

“Your eyes look like they could be a galaxy of their very own.”

Your best friend was so adorably at a loss for words that it was all he could do not to burst into flames. He scrunched his nose up before his hands flew to his cheekbones, hiding the blush steadily coating them. He tried to roll away from you but your arms locked around his waist before he could get far, and you pulled yourself flush against his side.

Your pointer finger found his button nose, lightly tapping the lovable feature before your hand wound itself around his shoulders, finding a home behind his head, gently playing with the soft ebony strands of hair on the back of his neck.

He didn’t have the heart to continue his attempts at concealing his pounding heart and somersaulting stomach.

Forget the butterflies, there was a whole zoo in there.

And like that you both had stayed, tucked snugly beneath the blanket of the night sky. That is, until you were called inside for cookies. Not coincidentally, they were space-themed. One day he had brought over the set of cookie cutters right after he purchased them, and from then on you kept the metal molds in a special cupboard to use whenever he visited. He insisted they made them taste better, but you weren’t quite convinced.

Biting into a Saturn-shaped one, your epiphany from earlier had hit you all over again. Briefly making a note on your phone, you smiled to yourself, satisfied with your idea and wishing with all your might that Jisung would like it as much as you were hoping.

Needless to say, you got your answer days later in the form of the bone-crushing hug he had picked you up and spun you around in. With the pajama set still clutched tightly under his arm, one of the biggest smiles you’d seen from him in a long time lit up his face with joy.

Your question seems to stop time as these fond memories replay themselves in both of your brains. As if a movie projector just turned itself off, you’re brought back to reality when his hands lifts to thumb at the satin hem of the shirt, tracing the delicate stitching. The pajamas are a dark navy color, dotted with planets and stars, suns and moons, and from the moment you laid eyes on them you knew they would suit him well.

“Yeah… They’re really soft, by the way. Thank you again,” he rambles softly.

Leaning back against the headboard, he clicks the remote and the screen comes to life. Your siblings are oblivious to your previous conversation, too busy arguing about which cartoon to watch.

The bedroom door creaks open again, revealing your mother on the other side. “You two are adorable,” she coos, not missing a beat as she quickly extracts her phone from her pocket and snaps a picture. If she had shown you the photo you would have seen your own face looking directly back at the camera, but you might have missed where your best friend was looking: over at you, with his eyes smiling and an expression that was full of love.

Of course your mom notices this, and she wastes no time sending the photo to his for them to gush about their children who are “perfect for each other, they just don’t know it yet.”

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind.

Some time passes as you stare at the TV, only half-invested in the show playing on the screen. You eventually look back over at your best friend and are met with the sight of his little brother snoring soundly against his chest. He catches your eye, sending you a sweet smile and your heart does a backflip.

You remember how your younger siblings had complained about the two of you having your own room last night. Your parents did their best to explain that it was only fair since you were the eldest and the most responsible kids, and since you did so much to look after and take care of them all the time, they thought you could use a break from being a babysitter.

As you were getting ready for bed you lovingly joked about their stubbornness together, but the lighthearted conversation between you turned deep as you thought about everything that made being the oldest child in the family so special. You were motivated to be someone for your sisters and brothers to look up to. You felt proud when they succeeded and never failed to comfort them when they didn’t. You could watch them grow up. They always returned the love you showed them in their own ways.

A few minutes turned into an hour, and soon it was past midnight. As you began to rise from your spot on the side of his bed, you felt his long and slender fingers grasp your wrist. Turning around, you tilted your head at him questioningly before he swiftly stood up and hugged you, putting his arms around your shoulders as you clasped your hands behind his waist. He’s tall enough to rest his chin on the top of your head. When he pulled back he had lifted a hand to your face and ran his thumb over your cheek, his other arm hanging rather awkwardly at his side.

“Good night,” he had said, the pitch of his voice a little higher than usual and you stuttered out the same words before crawling into bed. A minute or two passed in silence before you heard him speak up, his tone huskier now. “See you in the morning.” Again, you were nearly at a loss for words and so you settled for repeating what he just said back to him, hoping your heartbeat isn’t loud enough for him to hear.

You could tell that he had already fallen asleep soon after, thanks to the gentle sound of the air entering and leaving his lungs through his lips. As you were lying down you suddenly felt a tingling sensation on the skin of your face where his fingertips had held you. You brought your own hand up to your cheek, smiling to yourself at the not so distant memory.

It wasn’t long before you drifted off yourself, immersed in dreams you would never remember of the boy you called your best friend but who meant so much more to you than just those two simple words.

Which brings you back to now, the next morning, looking over at him as he brings a hand up to rest on his sibling’s shoulder, who squirms in his sleep, nuzzling his face into his older brother’s side. He casts his eyes down at the small boy, a look full of admiration and affection in his eyes. An image flashes briefly in your mind of him not with his little brother, but with another child. You blink rapidly, forcing the thought away as you inwardly reprimand your brain. Not the time.

The hotel suite is cozy. There are two master bedrooms for your parents, each with a king-sized bed of its own. Situated in between them is the smaller room where your 4 siblings are staying. You had peeked in earlier to see 2 sets of bunk beds next to each other, complete with ladders and railings for safety. You guess it’s the older sibling in you that makes you pay attention to something like that.

The size of the bedroom that you share is somewhere in between. Your window looks over a quaint courtyard filled with flowers of every color imaginable, bright green trees, and dotted throughout with pastel pink cherry blossoms amongst them. Your families had been organizing this trip for months now, and they had chosen this place because it was famous for its beautiful springtime visuals. The forecast for the next two weeks is perfect, minus a day or two with expected showers.

The pale periwinkle of the morning sky has melted into a vibrant blue by the time his little brother wakes up, slowly adjusting to the room’s brightness. He gives his older sibling a quick hug before bounding off the bed and out the door, closely followed by the other three who had been focused on their favorite cartoons for the past hour.

You want to say something to Jisung about the sweet moment they just shared but struggle to articulate your thoughts into words. He notices the slight furrow of your eyebrows as you think, nose scrunching up in concentration. “What’s up?”

And then the perfect response comes to you.

“Do you still want to trade?” You ask, referencing his earlier complaint and shooting him a cheeky smirk.

“I guess not.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck in mock defeat.

This time it‘s your father who comes into the room. “What do you say we have a picnic today? There’s a garden downstairs that would be the perfect spot and it’s a beautiful day.”

A few minutes later you’re both brushing your teeth in the bathroom, making faces at each other in the mirror. You nearly choke on the toothpaste in your mouth when he pulls a particularly funny expression.

Once you’re both dressed and ready for the day, you meet the rest of your families in the main room of the suite. Your mom is chatting giddily with his about something on the screen of her phone that you can’t see. The curiosity doesn’t last long enough for you to ask, however, so you end up brushing it off. Your group of 10 soon reaches the ground floor, all walking briskly out of the lobby doors before being greeted by a mild temperature and a gentle breeze.

An hour later your stomach hurts from all the delicious food. While you and him had been tasked with simultaneously picking a place to sit and keeping an eye on your little brothers and sisters, your parents had gone to grab a takeaway lunch for everyone at one of the casual restaurants in the hotel so they could bring it outside, allowing you all to enjoy the weather while you ate. That was exactly what you did, and now you find yourself sprawled on your back, lying down on the large blue and white checkered picnic blanket.

The puffy white clouds above remind you too much of sugar at the moment, so instead of gazing up at the expansive sky full of them, you make a half-hearted attempt to pick out which window belongs to your hotel room. Your best friend is just about to offer you another strawberry when he looks over and sees you holding a hand over your stomach. Turning away, he pops the sweet red berry into his mouth instead before his eyes land on you again, noticing the drowsy state you’re in from eating so much.

You sleepily say a ‘thank you’ for lunch before rolling over a little onto your side, which just so happens to be the one closest to him, and your head accidentally nudges the side of his thigh. Your mother, ever the hopeless romantic, tries and fails to suppress an “aww” at the sight. Currently, you’re slipping in and out of consciousness and don’t hear the conversation she shares with your best friend.

“We were thinking about letting your siblings hang out at the kids club they have here while we go out shopping and then to dinner afterwards. Does that sound okay to you?” He’s slightly confused by the question, but her kind smile reassures him.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay… How long will you be gone?”

“Well, our reservation is at 5, but I’ve heard that the service may be a little slow, so a few hours at least. Don’t worry, the kids may get bored easily but the club will entertain them for as long as we’re there.”

“Should we just go back up to the room, then?”

“I was going to suggest walking around and exploring, but that’s fine too! Just ask what they want to do,” she motions to you with her head and winks. “Enjoy having a quiet hotel room all to yourselves.”

He blushes, glancing at you before responding. If he knew you at all, he knew you would never pass up the opportunity to take a nap in the middle of the day. “Okay, ma’am, I will.”

“How many times have I told you? You don’t need to be so formal with us! We’re like your parents, too!”

You’re awake enough to hear his laughter.

The time reads 2:30 when you finally sit back up again, rubbing your eyes and squinting in the sunlight. Your little sister runs up behind you and grabs your shoulders, giggling when you turn around to lightly poke her rosy cheek with your finger. They had been running around for a while to hopefully get out some of their energy before they spent the afternoon at the kids club. They were rambunctious at times (okay, most of the time) but also incredibly well-behaved kids when they needed to be.

Your parents round them up before sending you two off by yourselves and bidding you goodbye over their shoulders while they begin to make their way across the property, since the club is on the other side of where you’re staying. As you’re parting ways, his little brother breaks free from his father’s hold to give your best friend one last hug, the sweet action warming your heart.

Something about the way your trip began had caused an uncommon awkwardness between you two, but now that the strange tension has dispersed, the walk and elevator ride up to the suite are far from silent. By the time you reach the room you’re nearly out of breath from laughing so hard. Jisung closes the door behind him and asks, “So you’re not tired anymore?”

“Not really. Your bad jokes were enough to wake me up!”

“Bad jokes? Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You turn around and see him looking at you, a hand over his heart as he feigns hurt. Then his expression changes and you can almost see the lightbulb go off inside of his head. You instinctively back up when he begins to take long strides towards you. “What are you doing…?” The words die in your throat as he gets closer and closer, your steps away from him quickening until you can go no further, back pressed against the wall of the living space.

Suddenly he’s close enough for you to make out every detail of his face, and his looming figure makes you feel small. Your mind drifts to thoughts of counting every single eyelash, every pore of skin, each individual detail on his face, temporarily distracting you long enough for him to tickle your sides with his large hands.

You can’t contain your laughter as you squirm at his touch, trying to escape his tight grasp. The hem of your shirt lifts up enough to expose your bare skin, his fingers ghosting over it just lightly enough to generate goosebumps all over. There’s mischief in his eyes, mixed with the satisfaction of making you giggle so uncontrollably. He knows where all your ticklish spots are, leaving you even more breathless than before in a matter of seconds.

In a sudden burst of confidence he sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, rushing across the room and running into the one belonging to his parents. He carefully lowers you down onto the king-sized bed before continuing to dig his fingers into your sides, your arms, your stomach.

“This is payback!” He exclaims.

“For what?”

“...Okay, you got me, I just wanted an excuse to tickle you!”

“You’re so cute,” You manage to whine, your filter completely gone at this point. You miss how his face burns a deep red at your bold words, but he decides he isn’t going to fight the pride he feels as he lets a shy smile overtake him.

Momentarily resisting the urge to shield yourself from his hands, you gather enough strength after a minute to flip over, caging him in below you with your limbs. It’s his turn to giggle as you tickle his neck, which you’ve learned is one of the most sensitive places on his body.

The loud laughter that erupts from him only eggs you on, and you speed up your pace at the adorable sounds. He raises his arms to block your access to his very vulnerable collarbone and throat, but in doing so he gives you an unintended opportunity to reach his armpits. He realizes his mistake too late, your observant gaze eagerly following his every move and your quick response coming in the form of a few jabs at the underside of his sleeve.

In a rushed motion, he plants an elbow on the bed behind him and lifts himself up, trying to escape what he started, but the momentum is much greater than he anticipates and his lips narrowly miss your own. It happens so fast that the close call doesn’t register in his mind, allowing him to remain blissfully oblivious. It certainly startles you, though, enough for you to instantly fling yourself off of him and to the other side of the large bed.

Confused, he stands and follows you, circling around the pristine white mattress.

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I do something?” His voice raises in pitch but lowers in volume with every question.

“It’s nothing, really... I was just surprised.”

“Surprised? Why?” He tilts his head and searches your face for an answer that isn’t in the form of words. You realize that he doesn’t even know what just happened between you, and so you decide to preserve some of your remaining dignity by not explaining further.

“Never mind. I’m okay, really.”

He lies down beside you, his eyes full of concern and care. A foreign but not unwelcome feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you both stay there, gazing at each other in a comfortable silence. Hesitantly he extends his hand, palm open and reaching for yours. You accept and squeeze it a little. He scoots closer, close enough to sling an arm over your shoulder. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out, and you nod.

“Is this what best friends do?”

“...What do you mean?” Your voice shakes as you speak, nervous about where this was going as well as how he manages to speak your current thoughts into existence just like that. He looks you directly in the eye, hand sliding down to rest on your waist.

“I mean, do best friends have tickle fights like this? Do they sleep in the same room like we do? Is that all we are? Because I don’t know about you, but lately I feel like there’s more—”

“—To us?”

“Yeah,” He breaks the intense eye contact with you, opting to look up at the ceiling instead.

“Well, maybe it isn’t what best friends do… but it’s what we do.”

Your anxiousness melts away with every word of the conversation as you realize that you have nothing to lose. Even if you decide that you’re no longer just best friends, he’s by your side no matter what, and you wouldn’t trade your relationship for anything, platonic or otherwise. It was leaning toward the latter at this point, anyway, but who needs labels?

“So… what are we?”

You gently let go of his hand and let yours find his face, grasping his jaw that clenches at the unfamiliar contact.

“We’re just us, you know? Maybe we’re closer than most best friends, but we aren’t a couple. At least, not right now. We’re somewhere in between, and I’m okay with that if you are. If we ever decide we’re something more in the future, we can figure out what that means for us then.” Your soft voice puts him at ease, and he relaxes under your hand, shifting even closer to you.

You don’t shy away like you usually would at such a proximity, as Jisung’s arm trails up your side and around to your shoulder blades, finally halting at the nape of your neck. He’s eye level with you, forehead pressing into yours. A rush of courage shoots from your head down to your toes, inspiring you to tilt your chin up and bump your nose with his.

The few stray moles on his face that you always notice remind you of the constellations in the night sky. Individually, the stars shine brightly enough on their own. But when they’re connected, they form a unique masterpiece. In his case, these freckles are merely a small but beautiful part of him. Every little detail about him is special, but when you picture them all together you realize how lucky you are to lay eyes on such a breathtaking sight.

The intimacy between you is broken as the boy before you makes the same face that made you laugh so hard this morning. You shake your head in mock disappointment before letting a quiet giggle escape you, and at that moment everything seems normal again.

You spend the rest of the evening watching TV and chatting on the couch of the living area.

“You know… you called me cute earlier.”

“I did?!” You panic, turning in his direction with wide eyes.

He nods smugly, nudging you with his shoulder.

“When?”

“While I was tickling you.”

“Well...” you stutter, trying to think of an excuse. Darn. There’s no way you’re getting out of this one.

“Just admit that you meant it and I’ll leave you alone.”

Swinging your legs to the side and facing him, you cross them and pout childishly. “No.”

Jisung frowns at your response, face falling and you struggle to maintain your stubborn facade. You hope he doesn’t take any of this seriously. He should know better, because the amount of times you’ve fawned and cooed over him is far too many to count. Granted, they were mostly playful exchanges like this one, but you recall a particular incident where that wasn’t the case.

You had been studying over at his house one evening when you looked up from a boring textbook only to find him asleep. His glasses were slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose, and a thin page was tucked between his fingers, like he had been in the middle of turning it. Checking the clock and deciding it was time for you to get going, you stood up, quietly shutting the heavy book and lightly setting it down on the carpet next to your bag. You then made your way over to him, the endearing pout he so often wore present even on his sleeping face.

Careful not to wake your best friend, you slowly pulled the still-open book in his hands towards you, his hand falling from its spot on the page to rest on the bed’s surface. You had to haul yourself up onto the bed to reach his glasses, however, and crawling on your knees, you gently lifted them from his face. After folding and placing them on his bedside, you stayed perched beside him, listening to each inhale and exhale that whispered past his lips.

You had absolutely no reason to believe that he wasn’t asleep.

And yet, there he was, wide awake.

He was normally a heavy sleeper, and you knew this, but the tenderness of your touch had been enough to jolt him into consciousness.

Just as he was about to open his eyes and alert you that he was, in fact, awake, you began speaking.

“Sometimes I don’t think you realize how lucky you are, y’know?”

His ears perked up in interest, anticipation flooding his senses as he waited for your next words.

“So many people these days only care about looks in a person. What makes you so special is that while you definitely have those, there’s so much more to you.”

“I’ve always thought a good personality was the most important thing to have. Up until a certain point I was under the impression that everyone else believed the same thing. But the world tells us we have to be pretty, handsome, attractive, or cute to be happy. To have friends. To be liked.”

You hesitated, “...To find love.” He prayed that you didn’t hear his breath hitch.

“When I’m with you all of that pressure just goes away. I don’t have to worry about looking presentable for anyone. You’ve never cared about my appearance. So when I find myself dwelling on yours, I need to be reminded that at the end of the day, it’s not what truly matters.”

“...So then, how exactly are you lucky? Well, it’s simple. You’ve got everything, even if you don’t know it. People like you for who you are, and your looks are just a bonus.”

As you leaned down a little, he swore that he could feel the warmth of your presence radiating onto his skin.

“...I guess it’s not a sin to take notice of them every once in a while, though.”

Even without his sight, your best friend felt the way that your eyes scanned his supposedly sleeping figure. It was like your gaze was as light as a feather, filled with the utmost care and gentleness despite not even touching him.

“Yeah, you’re pretty cute,” you had muttered after a moment, more to yourself than anyone else. He still heard it, though. If you kept this up, he didn’t know how much longer he could pretend to be asleep.

Another minute ticked by on the clock resting on his desk. Stealthily sliding off his bed, you went to gather your things and got ready to leave for the night. You turned off the light and were in the process of shutting his door behind you when you heard the faintest sound come from inside, resembling a goodnight wish.

You were surprised that the door handle didn’t shatter into pieces when your grip on it tightened at record speed.

In all honesty he was exhausted, and your soft, shuffling footsteps around his room had relaxed him to the point of forgetting you weren’t supposed to know that he was awake.

His door was never fully closed that night, as you had been too busy panicking on the way out of his house. He had heard absolutely everything, and you were sure it couldn’t get any worse. The moment which you saw as embarrassing would, oddly enough, eventually become a source of inspiration and confidence for him when he needed it. There would always be an unspoken agreement between you to never bring it up, though, as you couldn’t bear to be reminded of such an awkward mistake on both of your parts.

You can’t stand arguing with him over something like this for long, so after another few statements of denial and prodding from him, you cave.

“Oh, come on, we both know you’re adorable,” you finally blurt out, crumbling under Jisung’s devastated expression. Lunging forward, you can’t help but pinch his cheeks between your fingers, a habit that you’ve developed over the years to tease each other. A habit that he pretends to hate, but deep down he can’t get enough of.

After hearing the words he’s been after, he reaches behind him with a sly grin and holds up his phone screen, showing a newly recorded voice memo of presumably your forced confession. With a gasp you withdraw your hands from their position on his face and turn around, crossing your arms over your chest as a child would do and letting out a loud huff. He scoots toward you and waves a hand in front of your eyes, trying to draw your attention away from the wall opposite you.

“You know you love me,” he tries.

The use of the strong but not inaccurate word makes your heart skip a beat, and you warm up to it within a matter of moments. Sighing, you take a peek over your shoulder before allowing him to pull you down to lie with your head in his lap, looking up at his face above you.

“You got me there.”

A few days pass and nothing is much different between you. Your family travels around the city and occasionally spends the day in the hotel. It happens to be a rainy evening the next time you’re completely alone together. Your parents are taking your siblings downstairs to get some dessert at a cute and colorful candy store in the shopping section of the lobby. Both deciding to go to bed early, you tell them all goodnight and close the door to your shared bedroom as they leave.

The soft sound of the water droplets hitting the window is soothing, but as usual, thoughts of your best friend cloud your mind while you try to fall asleep. You lie down on your side facing his bed, him doing the same across from you. In the dim light you can’t tell if his eyes are open or not. You get your answer a minute later.

In that same raspy voice that always gives you chills, he mumbles, “You look lonely...”

Squeaking a little, you try to recover from the surprise, “What?”

“Come here,” He lazily stretches an arm out, beckoning you to join him.

As you crawl under the blankets, he pulls you close, threading his legs through yours and inhaling your scent. He’s warm, and the bed’s warm, and you never want to leave because this just feels so perfect. His hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you automatically bury your face further into his neck.

Jisung feels you tense up as you realize that while you’ve been in his arms like this before, something about this time feels different, and his fingers graze over your neck to gently massage your upper back. With every passing second the position begins to feel more natural to you, and for the first time since you’ve arrived at this destination that seems to be the epitome of springtime’s beauty, you don’t dream of him because he’s no longer out of reach.

The clock that sits on the end table between your beds, one of which is now empty, reads 1:46 when you wake up, though you don’t turn around to check. You’re exactly where you were a few short hours ago when you fell asleep, held in his snug embrace, wondering how so much could change in such a short time.

“Can’t sleep either?” His chest rumbles as he murmurs, lips against your forehead.

“Actually, I’ve been sleeping. You haven’t?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Wow, you’re even cheesier than usual in the middle of the night.”

“No, I mean I’m serious. I’ve literally been up all night thinking about you even though you’re right here.”

“...I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“You don’t have to, I just...” He exhales loudly, his warm breath tickling your face.

“What is it?”

“...There’s something I’ve always wanted to do but I’ve never felt brave enough to do it before.” Looking at you in that moment makes him feel like he has nothing and everything to lose at the same time.

“And if I don’t do it now I don’t know if I ever will.”

You nod a little, signaling for him to continue. Your heart seems to have an idea of where this is going but your brain hasn’t caught up just yet.

And then he says four words that you never thought you’d hear but hoped for anyway.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your body answers on its own with a slight hum, head tilting up so you can meet his eyes with your own before they begin to trail down your face slowly.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, aching to feel the plush softness of his lips against your own. He shares your desire, nearly shaking at the thought of finally doing what he’s dreamed of after all this time. He’s scared he won’t be good at it, that he’ll disappoint you, but as he gazes at your rosy lips he throws everything to the wind and abandons his worries, figuring he might as well try.

And try he does. Everything seems like it’s in slow motion. Nothing about the kiss is rushed, but you find it more romantic that way. When you touch at last, you’re already addicted to the feeling. A thought of your parents and siblings being just a few rooms away enters both of your minds for a split second before it leaves, and you remain unfazed.

You hold your arms against your chest, not sure what to do with them. He doesn’t seem to know either. What does come naturally, however, is your eyes fluttering closed at the contact, and even though you can’t see anything, explosions of color dance in front of your sealed eyelids regardless.

As you break apart you’re both much too shy to look at each other right now. You settle for staring at the dark window behind him, barely able to make out the raindrops trailing down the glass.

He focuses on your bare shoulder, exposed by your sleeveless pajama shirt. He doesn’t even realize that he places a hand on it, or that you look back at him not in surprise, but curiosity.

Your best friend chuckles deeply, “May I kiss you again? Please?”

“Kiss me all you want,” You mumble softly, feeling far from sober after tasting him.

His lips remind you of the fresh spring air that rushes into your bedroom whenever you step out onto the balcony. They’re sweet and a little bit sour, like cold lemonade without sugar. He smells like the crisp, clean sheets of the bed mixed with a hint of oak wood, just like the vibrant, shady trees below your window.

He’s all kinds of intoxicating.

Quickly closing the distance between you once again, Jisung plants another loving kiss on your lips. This time, he gingerly cups your face in his hands, a thumb tucked underneath your chin. The novelty of the sensation overwhelms you, clouding your mind, and you can’t think straight. That’s why for no reason at all, you can’t stop yourself from giggling softly into the kiss, unsure how to properly respond and dizzy from the unfamiliarity of this new kind of touch.

He pulls back a little, lips leaving yours, and your breaths mingle in the small space between you. Fearing the worst, he asks in a deep but quiet voice, “...Are you laughing at me?”

The way he says it, his bright eyes previously so full of hope and love suddenly dimming, makes you feel like someone just punctured your heart. His question breaks you out of your daze, and you rush to correct your error.

Apologies spill from your lips, “No! I’m… This is all really new to me. I guess I’m just nervous… You’re doing nothing wrong. If anything, I’m the one messing this up. I have no idea what to do, where to put my hands… I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t do this.” Squeezing your eyes shut in frustration with your inexperience, you hastily roll onto your other side, facing away from him.

“Hey, hey...” he soothes, firmly gripping your shoulder in an effort to get your attention. You turn, and he sees your face glisten with tears as they overflow from your eyes. “Oh no, please don’t cry… If it makes you feel better, I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

“Really?” You ask, incredulously.

“Not a clue.” He smiles a little, hoping it was enough to bring a similar expression onto your own face.

When you don’t respond, he offers, “Do you want to figure it out together?”

Your gaze softens at his words, and he takes the opportunity to bring his hands to your cheeks, wiping away the tears. With a small nod, you roll over to face him yet again.

“But seriously, where should I put my hands?”

At this it’s his turn to giggle, and he takes your wrists in his own, guiding them to rest on his shoulders. As he leans in for the third time, one hand of yours stays in place while the other migrates upwards, past the back of his neck to comb through his thick, dark hair with your fingers. He’s holding you by the hips now, touch tentative but secure.

Just as you’re about to kiss, he halts his movements, with the minuscule distance of what seems like only a hair’s length separating you. With an innocent but teasing grin, he waits for your response.

Not even caring if you rip it, your hand leaves its spot on his collarbone to impatiently tug on the collar of his pajama shirt, initiating the kiss yourself. The small noise of surprise he makes at the brazen action is cut off by your lips meeting his.

After getting more comfortable and sharing a countless amount of kisses, ranging from sweet, playful pecks to ones full of sincerity and affection, you collapse on top of him. With your head laying on his broad chest, he has a chance to catch his breath before pulling you as close to him as physically possible. His arms come up to tangle behind your back, palms open against the blades of your shoulders.

He shifts you upwards and a little to the side, at the perfect angle for him to pepper featherlight kisses all over your face. At each place where he plants them you feel a faint buzzing feeling, and though there are no visible marks left on your skin, your true feelings for each other are indelible.

“So… what now?”

“Well, I was thinking about formally asking you out, but then I realized that there’s no point.” Jisung’s ambitious words catch you off guard.

“Huh?” You deadpan.

“Not to be dramatic or anything, but I’m saying that there’s no one else I’d rather spend my life with than you. I feel like we don’t even need to make things ‘official’ between us because this is what we both want, right? I… I want to stay this close with you forever.”

After a minute, you reply, face flushed at his confession.

“That makes sense… Yeah, okay.” You take a deep breath. “And… so do I.”

“I know we’re still young, and it sounds like such a silly thing to say at our age. I have no doubt that others would scoff at us, call us too naive if they heard that. Sure, there are bound to be hard times in store for us. We never know what the future holds, but I’m willing to work together to overcome any challenge that stands in our way if you are.”

“Me too.” A triumphant affirmation of your commitment to this relationship, to each other.

“We’re just us, right?”

“Right.” You beam at him.

You exchange a few more sleepy pecks as you cuddle close in the dim light of your hotel bedroom, the scattered tingles on your skin bringing shy smiles to your faces. The giddiness of the rejoicing butterflies in your stomach only grows with every second that you spend like this, in your best friend’s arms. You wonder how you got so lucky.

After a final, longer kiss, your lips are still touching when Jisung gently breathes out, “Sweet dreams.” And you drift off.

You both dream of each other that night, your subconscious thoughts assuring you that it was always meant to be.

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 18: Exceeding

This is chapter 18 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur, Sapnap, George

Word count: 3,121

Cw:  Violence, getting shot, spiraling, pain, crying, tension between characters, brief discussions of lying

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Sapnap stood in the entryway of Tommy’s house, expecting an answer.

Wilbur smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice remained passively cheery with something reserved behind it, “We were just having a talk. A private one.”

Sapnap took another step into the home, “I’m not leaving you here with him. You're looking super… off right now." Something was held back in Sapnap’s words. 

Wilbur took a second to reflect on the moment. The moment wasn’t that abnormal by itself. He pulled a fun harmless prank with George and the two were simply chatting inside a vacant home. It wasn’t necessarily his fault George had too many attachments to his Dream and refused to tell him anything as a result. Wilbur growled out, "It's nothing that concerns you. Leave." 

Sapnap kept his eyes centered on Wilbur. "George, come over here." Wilbur flickered his eyes back for a moment, seeing George try to side-step out of his way. His mind momentarily switched him with Tubbo as their actions mirrored each other. He wasn’t letting another person leave him. He wasn’t letting more information slip through his hands. He couldn’t afford it.

Wilbur harshly exhaled, “We just need to finish this up, then both of you can go do whatever." He really despised how difficult people could be. Simply blinded by a lack of understanding- one Wilbur shared- that was destructive if not properly taken care of.

And how Sapnap was a destructive fool. So easily swayed by his emotions. He pulled out a loaded crossbow, aiming it at Wilbur. His finger rested gently over the trigger, twitching occasionally. “Step the fuck away from him. Hands where I can see them.”

Annoyance filled Wilbur’s eyes. “Sapnap, don’t do anything rash. We can talk this out.” Wilbur gestured to the man in front of him, “I haven’t done a single thing wrong, isn’t that right, George?”

He looked back towards George, who immediately refused to meet Wilbur’s gaze. George was painting him as a villain. The one that cornered him until the heroic Sapnap came to save the day. The one that needed to be taken care of. The one that died to his own flaws. Heroes never died to their flaws. Heroes loaded a crossbow to protect the ‘innocent.’ 

Wasn’t Wilbur just as innocent himself? All he needed was answers to fix the mind of his. The one that insisted to be nicer and embrace the little parts of life. The child in his brain who could be removed if he simply knew a little more. Just a few more minutes of conversation and he would have all he ever needed. But with Sapnap present? He had to turn those minutes into quick moments that would pass before the man holding the crossbow even blinked. 

He placed his hand firmly on George’s shoulder, slightly pushing him back into the wall. He didn’t even intend to. He didn’t apply much pressure. “George-” He was sharply cut off by the stabbing pain in his leg. He jumped onto the other leg to avoid the painful pressure as he was tackled down by someone he couldn’t see.

A punch hit him square in the jaw, landing on top of a bruise he received from Niki not too long ago. He hissed out in pain and tried to throw the person off of him. When he caught a second to look, it was Sapnap on him, but the moment it took to realize that, he whipped his head to the side after getting punched again. 

He wiggled his arms from underneath him and weakly punched him back, unable to move his body into the motion. After more hits that made Wilbur almost dizzy, he knew he couldn’t play fair. He took his fingers and poked them into Sapnap’s eyes, making the man on top of him stop for a moment. Wilbur took the opportunity and punched him as hard as he could, flipping their position and making him on top. 

He prepared to hit Sapnap again, not even thinking about why. All he knew was he was getting attacked, and he wasn’t going to be on the losing side of history. Just as he was going to hit the man under him, a blue blur pushed him off, Wilbur’s curled up fist connecting with George’s arm with half the force he aimed for Sapnap. 

Still, he made a grunt from the impact and muttered something Wilbur couldn’t hear. George seemed to take a small, hesitant step away, but Sapnap didn’t follow suit as he rolled over and grabbed the collar of Wilbur's shirt. Sapnap must’ve pushed on the pulsing pain in his leg as he groaned from the dizzying sensation. Sapnap took it as his chance to hit Wilbur again. It didn’t just happen once, but Wilbur lost track. He just felt his head jerk back and forth and he closed his eyes from the pain. 

When the punches stopped, he opened his eyes slightly. He saw George telling Sapnap something, holding his shoulders firmly. He felt like he could see Sapnap pulling against George’s pull with an anger in his eyes. 

“He’s not worth it,” He heard George mumble. 

Despite being on the floor and writhing in pain, he hissed out at George, “Fuck you.” He felt pain connect with his face once more. He laughed bitterly. The day was saved. The hero put the villain in his spot. He wouldn't do anything bad now. The innocent people could finally live in peace.

The peace that thrived off of the villain being put to a permanent retirement. The stories he heard from a young age painted it so simply. If only he could have a permanent rest. A permanent rest from this routine he lived in. Besides, everyone else needed a break from him anyway. Just a couple of days alive, and they already needed a break.

Sapnap got off of him. Kicking the place where the pain lay in his leg as Wilbur curled up. “Shit,” he whispered, barely able to acknowledge the people still in the room as the pain throbbed once more. He whimpered quietly to himself as he heard footsteps slowly grow fainter and fainter. There was a distinct sound of voices but he didn’t bother paying attention as he closed his eyes.

“-bur! Wilbur?! Please, please respond, Wil.” Panicked whispers filled his mind. “Oh no, oh no, he’s dead. What happens if he’s dead? Do I die and get put into limbo two: electric boogaloo? Does he get put in limbo? Oh no this is bad.” 

A moment of silence was followed by a slightly calmer tone, “No trains coming. That’s good.” Ghostbur cried out in pain, “Wilbur, what did you do this time?” The question wasn’t meant directly to Wilbur, despite him being the subject of it.

Wilbur only managed a groan in response as Ghostbur excitedly gasped, “Wilbur! Can you hear me?”

Wilbur pushed himself up to where he was sitting up. His head spinned as he mumbled, “Yeah, I can hear you.”

“That’s great, because I’d like an explanation of everything that just happened. I thought you said George was your friend! And George didn’t even try to stop all of that. While I don’t think I’ve personally met him, he sounds a little rude.” 

Wilbur tried to stand up but he cried out in pain along with Ghostbur at the sensation in his leg. He muttered, “Oh shit.”

“Language,” Ghostbur bitterly mentioned.

“I got shot with Sapnap’s crossbow.” He frankly should have connected the dots earlier, but he just assumed he got kicked really hard. The blood trickled down his leg, slightly staining his pants along the way.

“Oh! Okay… how- how do we fix this?”

“Prime, Ghostbur, I have no fucking clue.” Wilbur sighed quietly to himself, “I’m not cursing at you or anything. I’m just upset that all of it happened.”

“The feeling is mutual.” 

The comment took Wilbur off-guard, “What did you say?”

“I said the feeling is mutual. Do you not know what that means? It means when-”

Wilbur cut him off, “I know what it means. I just- I really didn’t expect that out of you.” A light astonishment slipped into Wilbur’s voice.

Ghostbur sighed, “That doesn’t really matter right now. We need to focus on your- well I suppose it would be our- leg.”

Wilbur nodded vaguely. “Right. Okay step one…” Wilbur’s voice died as he tried to think of a vague-ish rule that would apply to any injury. “Get out of immediate danger.”

Ghostbur asked, “Is anyone with you?”

Wilbur shook his head, “It’s just you and me. And me and you. We got the whole place to ourselves.” Wilbur chuckled at the familiar jingle. 

Ghostbur didn’t laugh though. His voice stayed firm in a way that frightened Wilbur more than Sapnap did. “What’s step two?”

Wilbur let out a shaky breath, “Um… assess the damage taken.” Wilbur thought for a moment, “There’s gonna be swelling in the face and eventual bruises. There’s also the arrow in my right calf. The injury is on the exterior, about the middle of the leg.” He slightly moved his leg closer, making him wince in pain in company to Ghostbur’s hiss. “It doesn’t seem too deep.”

“You’re doing good so far,” The praise sounded dull, as if it was just supposed to keep Wilbur busy as his mind ran. “Now step three.”

“I’m guessing that would be taking inventory on your medical aid and equipment. As far as medical aid, I-” It was quite pathetic to say that he didn’t have anyone, so he settled on an alternative, “I don’t think anyone is nearby to help.”

“We could go to someone and get help?”

Wilbur quickly feigned an excuse, “I don’t want Sapnap or George seeing me again.”

Ghostbur hummed in acknowledgement, “Good point.” He thought for a moment. “We can’t go to Tubbo or Ranboo either?”

“George or Sapnap might see me and I don’t want to risk going into the nether.”

Ghostbur frustratedly sighed, “So no one wants to help us.” It was stated so matter of factly that Wilbur almost agreed. Instead, he slid himself up one of Tommy’s walls, standing mostly on the leg that wasn’t injured.

Wilbur tried to sugar coat the situation the best he could, “I’m sure people want to. They’re just…” Only helping him out of pity. “Unavailable.” 

“Sure. Alright, what supplies do you have?”

“I doubt I’d find much, most of the useful stuff Tommy had was transferred to Pogtopia.” Before Ghostbur could speak again, he added on, “Ghostie, are you alright?”

“It’s-” Ghostbur took a shaky breath, “You need medical attention. Focus on that first.”

“You’re just as important as I am,” Wilbur reassured.

Wilbur hated the silent response more than the arrow in his leg.

He restated, “You are just as important as me.”

The quiet voice filled his mind once more. It was hesitant and small compared to the pain that persisted in Wilbur’s head. He could hardly focus on the words themselves. "I'm not. I'm really not.”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, "Woah, where is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just don't feel happy right now." The voice lingered in a dull disappointment that stabbed Wilbur in the heart.

Wilbur pulled a cheery voice, "Uh, you can think about Friend?"

He expected a happy rant about the shade of his wool, or the time of day the little sheep ate. He couldn’t expect anything else out of the happy little ghost. He couldn’t expect Ghostbur’s actual answer. "But then I think about things I shouldn't."

"Like what?"

"I…” Ghostbur took a shaky breath, “I feel like you lied again. No- I know you did. I just don't like to think about it too much."

“I didn’t li-” Wilbur cut himself off at the realization that he promised Ghostbur they were going to see Friend. The talk was still fresh in his mind, remembering the exact part of the cobblestone bridge he was on along with how he shifted in his clothes uncomfortably. “Oh shi- shoot. Ghostie, I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you that I didn't see Friend. I tried looking for him, but he wasn't at L'Manberg like last time."

Ghostbur bitterly laughed, "Do you really think that's all you've lied about?" Wilbur thought for a moment before Ghostbur continued, "I know I have memory problems from time to time. But I've been remembering things really clearly ever since you got revived. And nothing makes sense anymore. You said we would go to Tubbo, but now we can't. You- you said Tommy was coming back, but he never did. And- And you rarely tell me things anymore!" Ghostbur’s voice wavered with a saddened anger. It teetered in a way that made him sound like he was crying, "I thought you were my friend." Wilbur’s vision seemed to messily blur at the final words.

Somehow the ghost that loved everyone he met and named a sheep ‘Friend’ was against him. 

One could easily look at Wilbur and see him in those history books. Slightly tint the photos of him a dark gray color or a crimson red if it was recent. State so loudly that no one could stand him. Source all the lives he ruined, and explain how Ghostbur should be in the overworld instead. Let the innocent person run free as the villain rots, cold and alone. Stuck in a train station. That was where Wilbur belonged.

While part of him thought he wasn’t the villain, he was just on the wrong side of history, he knew he was lying to himself, because the two were much the same. It was a habit he developed years ago. He had to believe the best would happen and it would come. So he tried to believe the best, his tone coming off as sarcastic and uncaring, "Oh, we totally are friends! Best friends forever, y'know?" 

Ghostbur’s voice shook with such confidence and resentment, "A best friend would tell me things and stop the pain from constantly hurting." A melancholic gray filled his vision for a moment, before flickering away.

Wilbur shifted on his uninjured leg and hobbled towards the entrance of Tommy’s house. Ghostbur wanted to be told the perspective of the world. Simple. There was the wretched villain looking out of an abandoned home, squinting into sun, attempting to help a ghost trapped in his mind. Wilbur spoke in a hushed tone, “I can tell you things. There's an apple on the ground. It’s bright red-"

Ghostbur cut him off, his words rushed and eager to escape him, "Tell me the important things! The details about clouds and trees mean nothing if I'm in pain!"

Wilbur hummed in acknowledgement, “You’re right.” He hopped once more out of Tommy’s house, using the exterior of the wall to act as a support as he limped towards a familiar direction. The world was closing in on him, when he realized who he was once more. Wilbur Soot. Creator and destroyer of L’Manberg. The villain who had been slayed yet again. A repressed genius, who had been holding back for far too long. He let out a breath as he felt his entire being soaring towards the sky, out of the pain, and into the sky that belonged to him as much as his sunrise. “We’re- I’m going to Pogtopia.”

He heard sniffles echo through his mind accompanied by hisses of pains and quick apologies. It turned into white noise as he centered his mind on his throbbing leg, well- as he tried to center the pain there. His mind still ran, telling him about all the things he grinned at. 

It felt nice to be above it all. He was simply a mastermind, a work of art that no one else understood. The walk was moderately quick, but peaceful. The adrenaline must have been kicking in as his limp lessened. 

He coughed once, as he supported himself on the walls of Pogtopia. His hand ran over the buttons, and while he didn’t press them, he could hear them clicking faintly. They weren’t mocking him anymore, he thought. They were shaking underneath his grasp, and it sent a laugh through his body. “I’m here,” he said out loud.

“Great,” Ghostbur said sharply, though it was clear he had a hard time saying it.

He threw back his head a little, as if he was bored. “I’m not sure where they put the medical equipment.” He thought about his last trip to this place. “Ah, perhaps Tubbo brought it to that little bunker of his.” The name seemed to sting his tongue, but everything else stung him more, so it was hardly relevant.

“We…” Ghostbur tried with a shaky voice, “We’re not allowed to go in there without him. H- he said-”

“You were the one who said medical attention was the first priority,” Wilbur reminded the ghost, continuing to walk ahead. He received no response.

Whatever.

He remembered where the bunker was, fortunately. He soon found himself in there, and while it felt forbidden just before he walked inside, Wilbur never cared much about what he was supposed to do. The world wasn’t going to keep him down. He had been staying at the train station, with little to no light, and hours, days, years ticking ahead. He had let the comfort of tolerance, and connection that would be broken at the slightest misstep, overwhelm him. He had forgotten everything he had learned last time he was in Pogtopia. A silly little shell, who was far too easy to keep down. But Wilbur wasn’t anyone’s shell anymore.

He looked at the books and the little farms for food. One could stay there for months or longer, and remain perfectly intact. “Huh, I could do some reading while I’m down here,” he said.

“Please- please take…” Ghostbur’s voice wavered, though the next part came out harshly, “Please take care of the wounds.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I will.”

Ghostbur responded to that with a hiss of pain, but Wilbur barely noticed as he walked to the nearest chest to pick up some bandages. There was thankfully a potion of regeneration, and something that would disinfect the wound. He wished it was an instant health instead, or even just having more potions in general. 

Regardless, he sat down on a chair, feeling the pain slightly more as his leg changed position. He looked at the arrow. “I’m going to remove the arrow now. Brace yourself I guess.”

Ghostbur held his breath, and Wilbur ripped it out with as much quick force as he could, knowing full well that it would be less painful to get it done quickly. “There we go.” His smile wavered for a moment, though he settled on the most confident expression he could muster. He’d done this countless times before. Ghostbur sobbed, and Wilbur huffed. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Ghostbur didn’t respond though. Instead, Wilbur heard the sound of muffled cries and whimpers echoing through his mind.

[birdiefw]

JJ MAYBANK | ALWAYS HERE

Requested by: @lil-italian-disappointment

Prompt #76: “You’re not alone, I’m right here.”

Summary: After you get in a fight with a Kook that resulted in your parents grounding you and you’re unable to see your friends, JJ decides to come and sneak in to check on you.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, & fluff

A/N: Hi! So, I wasn’t sure who you had in mind for this, but I just decided to go with JJ since I thought it was fitting for him! I don’t know if it’s what you had in mind, but I hope you like it! I’m sorry that it took so long!

[NOT MY GIF!!!]

Bruises littered your knuckles, dark blues and purples decorating your battered skin. Your jaw ached from receiving a nasty punch, but thankfully that was one of the only places on your face you’d been hit. Your right cheek was bright red, the skin going to darken over the next few days as an even worse bruise would form on the skin. You still couldn’t believe what happened, but once the girls fist collided with yours, it was like something took over you and you let her have it, not stopping until Deputy Shoupe and Plumb were intervening and pulling you and the Kook away from each other.

You instantly calmed down when you saw who they were as you didn’t want things to become worse, but your eyes remained dark and narrowed, your heart racing rapidly.

You hadn’t intended on getting a fight when you decided to roller blade through the park, but as soon as the Kook girl brought JJ into her snide jabs at you, you couldn’t take it anymore. You tore into her, and with no clever comebacks left, the girl had decided to make it physical in hopes of showing you up. But instead, you won—or technically lost considering you were the one who ended up at the police station to wait for your parents to come and pick you up while the other girl was taken to the hospital for a broken nose.

While waiting at the station, it allowed you to reflect on what you’d actually done, and as good as it felt to give a Kook a taste of their own medicine for once, you were ashamed of yourself.

You couldn’t believe you’d let your emotions get the best of you. You were a good kid, but now you would have the fight on your permanent record which would undoubtedly impact your future no matter what you decided to do. For the Kook, she would be viewed as the victim and not face any punishment whatsoever—but she would certainly have a bruised ego which was still good. You were grateful the girl wasn’t pushing any charges as her injuries were a lot worse than yours, but that didn’t make it any better. You shouldn’t have done that, and by your own injuries that would no doubt hurt even worse tomorrow, you didn’t even want to face any of your friends. If it was a choice, you wouldn’t even face your parents, but you were still in high school and they were in charge of you. They had to be informed of what you’d done and come pick you up.

When they did come to get you after finding out what happened, to say they were livid was a complete and total understatement. You were most definitely grounded—without an exact date for when it would end because they were too angered to even think of that just yet. You weren’t allowed to leave the house to go anywhere except for school and work, and if you hadn’t paid for your own phone and paid the bills, they would’ve taken it away. Though, considering they reluctantly agreed to let you keep your other electronics, you didn’t think they really would have as you wouldn’t have been able to do anything at home, and they didn’t want you to act out again. It had crossed their minds, but they had a feeling that wouldn’t do any good for them or you.

Thankfully it was Friday night, and hopefully your injuries would heal by the time Monday came back around. You were meant to go to Kie’s that night and hangout with the Pogues, but that wasn’t happening anymore. Besides, you didn’t want to face them and have to see their reactions to what you’d done. You didn’t think they’d react badly, but you were so ashamed you didn’t want to have to explain that to them.

A small part of you was surprised they hadn’t found out already and tried contacting you, but you had no doubt it would reach them before too long—most likely before the night was even over.

You carefully examined your face in the mirror as you sat on the floor of your room, wincing as you just barely touched your jaw. You quickly retracted your hand and shook your head, puffing out your cheeks. You lowered your head into your hands, sniffling as tears began to form in your clenched eyes. You stood up and sat on the edge of your bed, pushing your head into your hands and resting your elbows on your knees. Before you knew it, your hot tears were falling down your face and your shoulders were shaking.

You did your best to keep your mouth closed, not wanting your parents to hear your sobs. Your mind was frantically racing, the fight playing on repeat in your head and unable to stop no matter how much you didn’t want to think about it. You failed to hear your bedroom door open, the person quickly rushing to kneel in front of you to see what was going on.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” JJ’s familiar voice asked, his usually cocky tone now replaced with fear and concern. You cried even harder, pulling your arms from his rugged hands that tried to get you to remove your hands from your face so he could see you better. “Y/N, come on, talk to me.”

“No,” you murmured meekly, shaking your head. You turned away from him, laying down on your side and curling up into your bed with your back to him. JJ didn’t hesitate to climb in beside you, his blue eyes catching your tear filled ones, also taking note of the marks on your face. Your bottom lip wobbled and his frown deepened, his hand reaching out to touch your tear stained cheek, his concern increasing.

You’d been closest with Pope as he’d been your friend before the others, but each Pogue had a special place in your heart. To be honest, you flirted with all of them, but your flirts with JJ were more frequent and held a lot of sexual tension, but rather than a cocky smirk on his lips, they were pulled down into a frown and his brows were furrowed together. You appreciated him being there for you, and feeling his touch on your skin lit a fire throughout your entire body.

“You’re not alone, I’m right here.”

You timidly smiled at his sincere words, momentarily closing your eyes. You lifted one of your hands and placed it over his. You felt him scoot closer and you slowly opened your eyes. “Thank you, JJ,” you whispered.

He returned your smile, his thumb gently and carefully caressing your cheek, taking note of your knuckles. He didn’t make a comment, but you knew he would sooner or later. “I’m always here for you, Y/N.”

Instead of responding to him, you just moved closer. He got the hint and happily opened his arms for you, allowing you to curl up into his warm chest. He pulled you close, turning slightly so that he was laid on his back and you were firmly pressed against his side.

Your tears and sniffles began to subside after a few minutes, his other arm under your neck and making patterns on your upper back to comfort you while he waited for you to talk when you were ready. Your other hand was on top of his on his chest, his fingers delicately touching your knuckles.

“So,” JJ slowly began, noticing how you had calmed and was twisting your lips like you wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure how to begin, “you gonna tell me what happened or—”

“I got in a fight with a Kook,” you answered with a pout.

JJ was confused by your tone. Why were you upset? “I’m sure they deserved it,” he said.

You breathed out a laugh, shrugging. “She did, but. . .I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why‘d you do it then?” He wondered, glancing down to you.

You lifted your head, cheeks turning pink. “I can’t say.”

He raised his brows. “What? Why not? You can tell me anything.”

You sighed, twisting your lips. Your eyes shifted, looking anywhere but at JJ. “She was being a bitch, and we were going back and forth. . .until she said something about someone that I didn’t like.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Me?” He gaped in utter surprise. “You got in a fight for me?”

“Of course,” you replied with a faint smile. JJ’s lips curled up into a bright grin, a little laugh escaping his lips. He wrapped his arms around you and tugged you even closer, making you giggle. “I’m not gonna let anyone get away with bashing one of us—especially you.”

“That’s my girl,” JJ whispered proudly. He didn’t think he was worth it, but it warmed his heart that you’d done that just for him.

He would’ve done the same for you, too.

You bit your lip, resting your head on his chest and contently closed your eyes, listening to his calming heartbeat.

Perhaps it was worth it after all.

———

[halcyonstorm]

gift for the lovely @ellepellano for Levihan Xmas in July!! I really enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy too!

Read on AO3 or Read below the cut! Enjoy <33

Day 1

Levi was not looking forward to summer camp that year. He was going into his senior year of high school and frankly, he felt too old to be attending a summer camp. He had been going since he was a child. It had its ups and downs, and even though Levi disliked most things about being outside, he generally enjoyed himself. What he hated the most, though, were the campers themselves. They were annoying, immature teens (and his mother considered him “mature for his age”). Levi knew it was going to be a hot, dreadful week, but his mother insisted he go, and he couldn’t say no to her. After the long, two-hour car ride down to the campsite, he was ready to get moving. He hopped out of the car, groaning as he stretched his lower back. His mom opened the trunk, allowing Levi to grab his suitcase and sleeping bag. He dragged his suitcase behind him as he trudged down the paved path (about half a mile) to the cabins. His mother carried his sleeping bag on her back and walked beside him. He looked aimlessly towards the sky, the bright green trees forming a canopy over his head, sunlight peeking through the leaves. It was cool in the shade. He wished to have a personal tree canopy to shield him wherever he wanted to go.

“It’s your final year,” She said. “Make the most of it, okay?” She gave him a soft, sweet smile. Levi wanted to be annoyed at her, but she just wanted the best for him. He just wanted to stay home in the cool air-conditioned oasis of his room, reading or playing games on his computer. 

“I’ll try,” he muttered. Once they arrived at his red, worn-down cabin, they stepped inside. The calm of the nature around them was quickly disrupted by the loud chatter and yelps from inside his cabin. Am I sure this is my cabin? He asked himself. He peeked outside before stepping fully inside. Cabin 14. Yup… He found one of the free beds in the corner of the room, throwing his suitcase on top of the bed with a loud grunt. He saw a man he recognized as Erwin from the previous year. They hung out quite a bit last year, so Levi thought maybe he could stick with him if he needed a partner for a game.

“Hey, Levi!” One of the campers called out. He turned to see a tall, dark-blonde man greeting him. He had a shit-eating grin on his big face. It pissed Levi off, making him scowl. “Good to see you back!” 

“Mike,” Levi said under his breath. Mike pulled countless pranks on him last year. He was not looking forward to it again this year. He pointed behind him to the bed next from Levi’s with his thumb.

“Looks like we are bed buddies!” He exclaimed. Levi cringed at the statement. Why did he have to say it like that?

“Leave me alone.” Levi started to grab his sleeping bag from his mom. She gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked, indicating she was going to start heading back to her car. I need you to take me home… He didn’t want her to leave.

“I think I’m fine. Thanks,” Levi replied. His mom pulled him into a tight hug. In the hug, he smelled the fresh scent of her shampoo and a hint of perfume. It reminded him of home, making him yearn for it.

“I’ll see you in six days, okay?” She mumbled into the top of his head before giving him a kiss there. “Have fun, try to enjoy yourself.” Levi nodded.

“Yeah.” She pulled away, squeezing his hand before saying goodbye and exiting his cabin, leaving Levi all alone. 

-

The first event was mandatory that evening. After Levi ate his mediocre hamburger, he headed to the Main Hall across the bridge from his cabin. Under the bridge was a large, crystal clear lake that flowed throughout the camp grounds, where many campers in the past would canoe or swim. The reflection of the Main Hall was visible in the lake. When Levi looked up at the building from its reflection, he noticed it looked similar to his red cabin but with a better paint job and an awning. When he went inside, he recognized that the floor inside was covered in blue padded mats. In the distance, he saw hanging hoops and tunnels. He wondered what they’d be doing that evening. He found a seat next to a black-haired girl before the camp leader started to speak.

“Welcome campers!” She cheered into the mic. He recognized the girl as Alicia who has been the camp coordinator ever since he began high school. She wore a bright green shirt with the words “Camp Titans ‘21” across her chest. “Who’s excited to be here?” The crowd cheered. Levi kept a visibly monotone face. He wanted to go home. “We are going to start off this trip with a fun obstacle course! The group will be divided into four groups. The goal: reach the end before the other team, run back and tag your teammate. The first team to get through the entire obstacle course will win. We will be staying in these teams for the duration of the camp, so be sure to befriend your teammates! Our cabin counselors will be picking the teams.” Levi took a deep sigh. He was good at running and obstacle courses… He would consider them “fun”. His monotone expression changed into something more… neutral.

Within a few minutes, Levi was put on the blue team out of red, blue, green, and yellow teams. He wasn’t with Mike, thank God. He had a few strong-looking teammates, including Erwin, so he was glad. The black-haired girl he was sitting next to was picked for his team too. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak to her when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Levi tensed, turning his head slowly. It was a girl taller than him, her hair thrown up in a sweaty, messy ponytail. She wore a blue t-shirt and matching shorts. 

“Hey there! Some way to start off the week, huh?” She chirped, her hands placed on her hips. Levi turned his head looking forward.

“Sure,” he replied. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. She seemed too… excited.

“I’m Hange,” she said, tapping his shoulder in such a way that drove Levi up a wall.

“Okay,” he responded, crossing his arms. It was almost his turn to go. Him and Hange were towards the end of the line. Hange being the final person to complete the course. The black haired girl started to run in front of him, and Levi stepped up to the start. 

“Good luck!” Hange said, tapping his shoulder yet again. Levi took a deep, deep breath. Levi got one leg in front of the other, widing his base of support. He bent his knees, holding his hand out for the girl to hit. She ran past him so fast that he only felt the breeze of her passing by before he noticed his legs already running underneath him. 

There were a variety of obstacles in the course: ducks, jumps, hurdles, and judo-crawls. After running for a moment, there were five different sized hurdles, growing progressively taller as he went further. Luckily, he was a hurdle jumper in high school. He knew what he was doing, his one leg jumping over the hurdle while the other leg swung over the side. Once he got past the five hurdles, there was a long tunnel. He dove on his stomach, using his arms to tug him through the tunnel. It was dark, creepy, and yet Levi liked that the most. It was where no one could see him. Once he got out of the tunnel, there were hoops above him in such an order where one would have to swing across them. There were only a few: after all, this was only for fun. And some of the campers were not as fit as Levi. He bent his knees, jumping high. His hands gripped the hoops, his body swinging in all directions as he advanced towards the end of the course. The final part was the ducks. One of the camp counselors would swing a foam bat at the person a few times, the camper had to duck and jump as appropriate. He was successful in dodging the attacks from the brawny counselor, before sprinting down the strip, ready to tag Hange’s hand. She was not paying attention. As he got closer, he saw she was chatting to Alicia, the camp counselor. 

“Hange!” He called out loudly. She looked just in time for him to tag her hand, his hand stinging from the forceful impact. She took off. Levi caught his breath as he walked to the bench.

“Nice, Levi!” Erwin called out, waving him over to where he was sitting. Levi sat next to him. Who else did he know to sit with?

“Thanks,” he muttered. He finally looked up and saw Hange throwing herself across the hanging hoops. She looked like a monkey, swinging herself across the course without a care in the world. He heard her annoying laugh echo throughout the Hall.

“She’s insane,” Levi thought aloud. He couldn’t watch; he thought she’d hurt herself. He didn’t feel like cleaning up her blood off the floor. He wiped his sweaty forehead with the bottom of his shirt.

He looked up and saw Hange pass the finish line, her hands on her knees as she heaved loudly. 

“Congrats to the Blue Team for winning our first competition of Camp 2021!” Alicia cheered. The people sitting down on his team cheered, including Erwin. Levi took a deep sigh, clapping softly. Hange walked over to Levi. 

“You see that?” Hange bragged, folding her arms across her chest, still breathing a bit heavy.

“...Yeah?” Levi responded, standing up to get ready for the next team event. Hange does a strange thing where she shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders. He’s not sure what it means.

“I was tryna act like you,” She laughed. She sounded like she was mocking him, and he hated it. Why was she purposely pissing off? Usually, dorks like her left him alone after he gave him a glare that was scary enough, but she didn’t back off, let alone seem fazed by it. He was extremely annoyed with her.

“Leave me alone,” he snapped before walking away from her. He didn’t like how she was so… pushy? Annoying? Nosy? Wasn’t there a better word?

Day 2

The next morning was a team volleyball game. Their camp teams were too big, though. So, Alicia picked Hange and Mikasa to pick the teams. He hoped, he prayed that Mikasa picked him for her team. He stood in the front of the group. He didn’t care if his team lost; he didn’t wanna be with her. At that moment he remembered she didn’t know his name. How could she call him out if she didn’t--

“You!” Hange called out, pointing straight at him, her eyes piercing into his soul. He scowled, not taking a moment to hide the disappointment on his face. She grinned wide at him.

“This is Levi,” Alicia told Hange. A smug grin grew on her face. Levi felt a chill trickle down his spine. Now that she knew his name, she could piss him off even more than she already was. Levi zoned out while the other members were distributed amongst the two teams. Hange’s team was up first against the first yellow team: Mike’s team. Levi was set up in front of Hange, who was serving first.

“0-0!” She said aloud. 

“Everyone knows the score. The game just started,” Levi muttered under his breath. She let out a huff through her nose, hearing Levi after all. He turned to watch her swing her right arm back and forth to practice her aim. Then, she dropped the ball from her left hand, punting the ball over the net. For someone who was annoying as hell, she was pretty good at athletic activities like this. It was expected though. 

The ball was coming back over the net already, Levi held his hands together, bumping the ball to one of the teammates. He bumped it to Hange, who smacked the ball with the heel of her palm. She was a strong hitter; the ball flew just over the net, hitting the floor before bouncing out of bounds.

“Nice!” Mikasa called out from the crowd. Hange faced her to give her a cheery thumbs up. Hange received the ball from the other team, catching it one hand. 

After a few volleys, Levi was up to serve. He practiced throwing the ball in the air a few times to assess the height. Finally, he threw it in the air, striking it with the heel of his palm. It soared over the net. He heard a gasp come from Hange.

“You are so cool!” She exclaimed. Levi shook his head. She sounded like she was mocking him again. He didn’t respond. She should be focusing on the game.

Day 3

The next evening, Levi was eating with Erwin in the cafeteria. It was late, so the two of them were just having bowls of cereal. Levi didn’t really like cereal, but if he had to choose a favorite, it’d be Life. It was sweet but not too sweet, got soft but not too quickly, and crunchy but not too crunchy. He was having his second bowl that evening after a hot day in the August sun. Now it was cool, the full moon shining light onto the floor of the cafeteria, as well as the lights illuminating the room to be bright. It was nice and quiet until the peaceful calm was interrupted by no other than Hange and her lanky friend.

“Hey, Levi!” She exclaimed, standing at the head of the table. “I brought cards.” Erwin scooted over allowing Hange to sit next to him, face-to-face with Levi. The lanky boy sat next to Levi, facing Erwin.

“This is Moblit,” she introduced him, gesturing towards him. He gave a shy wave. “Erwin, Levi, and me!” She introduced the rest of them. Dork.

“Let’s play BS.” She briefly went over the rules. Each person is handed cards until the deck is completely passed out. Whoever gets the ace of spades goes first, and that card stays face up for the duration of the game. Going in numerical order, each person takes turns putting cards down. Whether you have the card or not, you have to put something in the stack. One can call “BS” if they think the person is lying. If they are lying, the liar gets the whole stack. If the accuser is wrong, they get the deck. The goal is for the player to successfully get rid of all the cards in their hand.

As Hange explained the rules, Levi realized she wasn’t as annoying today. She explained thoroughly and clearly, asking if anyone had questions before they started. He knew how to play, but she was patient with Erwin who didn’t know. He caught himself staring at her and focused on the natural pattern of oak wood on the table instead. After a few minutes of further explanation, everyone was ready to begin.

“Let’s play!”

As it turns out, Hange is an extremely good liar. She ended up winning the first game. When Levi had to call her final card BS, he flipped it and it was the correct card. He had to admit he was a bit impressed. It annoyed him that she kept winning game after game too.

“Let’s play blackjack or something,” Levi suggested, sick of losing.

“Are you a sore loser?” Hange sang, getting closer to his face. He scoffed, leaning back.

“Don’t get so close to me, you four-eyed creep.” He rolled his eyes, standing up. He hated that his heart started to race. It pissed him off. Her teasing pissed him off.

“I’m going to my cabin for the night,” he decided. “Goodnight.” He felt flustered, confused, but most of all: annoyed. All of these emotions were caused by Hange.

Day 4

Day four came fast. It was a cool, breezy morning when Alicia announced there would be a relay later that afternoon. She announced the four teams within the team itself. Each smaller team can win a point for their team, helping their team as a whole pull ahead. Levi was looking forward to that. Halfway through the camp week, the Yellow team was close to the Blue team in points, scoring a 5 and Blue 6. Red had 3, green had 2.

Levi was paired with Mikasa, Reiner, Annie, and not Hange. He was relieved... She exhausted him. The goal of the relay was running 100 meters and passing the baton to each member; a total of one lap around the track. They only had the morning to prepare. Luckily, everyone on his team seemed fast enough. They went to the track to practice. It was starting to warm up. On the other side of the track, he noticed Hange and her messy mop of brown hair, standing with Moblit.

“Levi, do you want to be the first one to go?” Mikasa asked, handing him the baton to begin.

“Sure.” 

The order was Levi, Annie, Reiner, Mikasa. He was excited to go first and help his team get ahead from the beginning. They practiced handing the baton to one another from behind, practiced sprints, and practiced both together. Whenever he had the chance, his eyes kept wandering across the track.

The relay took place an hour after lunch. Levi threw on his blue camp t-shirt and black shorts. Annie and Mikasa wore theirs as crop tops. Reiner wore his with the sleeves rolled up. Levi’s team was first to go. As he waited for the go-ahead to the relay, he stretched his legs. He caught a glimpse of Hange out of his periphery. She wore her blue shirt with “Zoe” written across her upper back. She was facing Moblit, chatting with him and gesticulating excessively. His eyes wandered lower towards her backside, getting a glimpse of something lower on her body that he should not be staring at. He shook his head, looking away quickly. He hated her. She was annoying.

The sun was beating down on the campers, starting to become too hard to handle. Levi was glad he was going first to get it over with. 

“Hey, Levi!” Hange called out. He was stretching to his toes when she called to him. Hange and Erwin were heading towards him. She wore one of those stupid umbrella hats on her head and had one in her hand. To his disgust, Erwin was wearing one too. With a fucking smile on his face. Levi looked petrified.

“These help with the heat! Put it on!” She smiled wide at him, offering him the umbrella hat in her hand. He reluctantly grabbed it and looked at it in his hands. It was a rainbow pattern, one that was extremely harsh on his eyes. He squinted, putting his hand down. Why didn’t she leave him alone? He had insulted her, making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her. So, why did she offer him a gift?

“No.” Hange grinned again.

“They really do help,” Erwin chimed in. Levi scrunched his nose at him, feeling betrayed. Don’t encourage her! 

“Attention all relay runners: Would the first team please report to the start? I repeat, would the first team please report to the start?” Levi handed the hat in his hands back to Hange. Her smile faded just enough for Levi to notice.

“I’ll… grab it after our team wins,” Levi said, bargaining with her. He kept questioning his actions. Hange smiled again.

“I bet I’ll beat your time! If I do, I’ll kiss ya!” She called out. He waved his hand at her, then suddenly processed her offer. She’s so annoying… What a disgusting offer.

“Yeah, right. I’d like to see you try.” 

He jumped in the air a few times to warm up his already warm body, bending down to get into position to run. He anxiously anticipated the fire of the gun, beginning the relay. Now he had motivation to run faster: he did not want a kiss from Hange.

“Ready…” The caller yelled. Then, the sound of the gun echoed through the crowd, piercing the silence. Levi was off. His legs started to pump, helping him accelerate forward. He began on the third slot, and he started to pass person four, five… then six. Now, he was in the lead. He was starting to pick up the pace, his opponents falling further and further behind.

“Annie!” He called out. She got into position, leaning her hand back. He handed her the baton, and she went soaring across the track. He stumbled to a stop, his hands resting on his knees. He himself was heaving heavy. The sweltering summer heat didn’t help either.

He felt someone touch his back with a cold and wet hand.

“Here,” Erwin said. “Nice job.” He handed Levi a cold bottle of water. Levi opened the cap, pouring the water down his throat. The cool water stung his sore throat, feeling the water travel down to his stomach.

“Thanks…” he panted. He collapsed to sit on the grass in the center of the field. Hange sat next to him a moment later. She sat quietly, leaning back on her arms with her knees bent in front of her. They were all cheering for blue, of course. They wanted to win. Cheering for Annie, cheering for Reiner. Then, it was Mikasa’s turn. Mike was the yellow team’s anchor. He and Mikasa were close in the race, but Mikasa pulled out the first win for blue.

The final relay came around and it was Hange’s team’s turn. Levi ended up giving in and wore the stupid umbrella hat about halfway through the second relay. The heat is too unbearable, and it actually provides good shelter from the sun, he rationalized.

The shot was fired, and the runners were off. Hange was the final runner; The final person to help the Blue team pull through and win. Moblit was the first runner for Hange’s team. She did some preparation stretches in her spot then got in position. It seemed like Moblit had far to run and he ended up falling behind to third place. Moblit finally reached the 100 meter mark, handing the baton off to Zeke. He got to the next checkpoint pretty quick but still remaining in third place, handing the baton off to Bert. Bert’s long legs helped him pull ahead of the two rival teams. As he approached Hange, she started to run a bit. He handed off the baton successfully and then she was off. She didn’t seem like one to be athletic since she almost passed out during the obstacle course, but she persevered. She extended her legs further than usual and pumped her arms faster, helping her maintain the first place ranking. She pulled through the finish line, earning first place for the Blue team.

She stumbled a little as she halted to a stop, leaning her hands on her knees as she heaved. Levi felt shy showing her he had on the stupid hat, so he took it off. She caught her breath (for the most part) and stood upright. Erwin and Levi were walking over towards her. She started to walk towards them too. She rested her hands on her head, opening her chest, allowing her to catch her breath quicker. When she approached them, she looked at Levi with wide eyes. He felt mesmerized by her glistening brown eyes; he almost forgot about how annoying she was. She had a stupid, stupid grin on her face. Levi thought she looked stupid. She was messy, dirty, sweaty… Why did beautiful cross his mind first? Flowers were beautiful. Christmas lights were beautiful. The full moon was beautiful. What made him think a sweaty, dirty, annoying person was beautiful to him?

Hange placed a hand on his cheek, giving his other cheek a wet, sweaty kiss. Levi was so exasperated that he couldn’t even process it since it happened so quickly. She pulled away and Levi’s face was one of pure shock. She… kissed me? 

“I beat your time, shorty.”

“I… didn’t think you were serious…” Levi stammered. Hange chuckled, winking at him.

“I wouldn’t wanna let you down like that.” 

Levi tried to avoid Hange the rest of the day. While he could avoid her physically, she was still dancing around his head, her kiss replaying over and over. He was restless in his bunk that evening. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding so hard in chest every moment he thought of her.

“You’re so stupid,” he whispered to himself. “Get out of my mind.” 

Day 5

The next day was the “Water Day''. Levi hated that term. Every event that day would take place either in the lake or the pool. The first event was canoeing. Levi was undoubtedly hoping not to be with Hange, but Alicia picked the teams. Apparently, Hange was horrible with canoeing. On the other hand, Levi had canoeed many times in his life.

“I want to face my fears!” she explained. Stupid. And annoying. 

“You should go with Hange in case anything happens,” Alicia told him. Levi passively agreed. They put on their bright orange life vests over their clothes. Hange had to get in the boat first.

“Come on, you’ll be fine. It’s attached to the dock.”

“...Yeah but that’s not the point.”

“What is it?” Levi asked.

“I’m…” She had a frown on her face. This was the first time Levi saw her like this. She always wore a grin. This was unlike her. “I’m fine! Getting in now…” It looked like she was telling herself, “Move your legs, dammit!” 

“Hange,” he said her name calmly. She turned to face him anxiously. “Follow my instructions, okay?” She nodded.

“Bend your knees,” He began. She followed. “Grab that side of the canoe.” He pointed to the edge furthest from her. “Now, put your right leg in, move your right hand to the other side, then get your left foot inside.” She was in the canoe now, she let out a sigh of relief. “Sit at the front of the boat. You’ll be the bowman.” 

“Ooooh! Sounds fancy. I’m up for the challenge!” No, clearly you’re not… Levi untied the strings on the dock, the canoe getting loose. Levi got in the boat the same way but sat towards the back, pushing off the dock with his foot, the boat starting to drift away from the dock. 

“You are the bowman,” he explained. “You have to let me know of any obstacles in the way. Though it is a lake, so I think we’ll be fine. You also have to paddle on the left side. I'll paddle on the right. That’s all you gotta do.” Alicia handed Levi and Hange the paddles. 

“That doesn’t sound too hard! Let’s go!” For someone who almost had a panic attack, she seems pretty excited. Maybe she is juiced up on adrenaline. 

As Levi and Hange paddled further to the center of the lake, he noticed Hange was blabbing less and less. Maybe she was getting anxious again.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He stuck the paddle in the water, pushing the water backwards. She was paddling too, but with much slower strokes.

“Fine,” she answered abruptly. Sounded like a lie, but Levi didn’t press.

“We have to paddle in sync, you know.” 

“Can’t we just go closer to land?” she answered in a snappy tone, her voice a pitch higher than usual.

“Yeah… sure.” Levi started to push his paddle in a “J” motion, starting to turn the boat. He noticed her shoulders were rigid and her paddling strokes stiff.

“Hey, Hange,” he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. With the small touch, Hange whipped around, the canoe shaking harshly side to side.

“What?” She sneered, now facing him. He could see her eyes were glassy. He was a bit shocked by her tone but wanted to keep her calm. She was clearly scared of being out on the water, so far from land. The last thing he wanted to do was flip the boat. He stopped paddling for a moment. He scooted forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Look out there,” He said, pointing past her. In the distance, there were beautiful green mountains of trees, big puffy clouds, and the water was glistening. As she turned, she also blinked, causing the tears to fall from her face. It broke Levi’s heart. All he wanted to do was to cheer her up at that moment.

She looked towards where he was pointing, she gasped softly. If Levi weren’t so close to her, he wouldn’t have heard it. She had finally looked up instead of down at the flowing water around the bow of the canoe.

“It’s funny…” She began. “I haven’t looked up since I got on the boat.” Levi smiled softly. He admired her, admiring the nature around them.

“It’s truly beautiful,” she said softly. Indeed.

-

Later that evening, Erwin wanted to go to the pool. Levi was hesitant because of all the people that’d be in the pool. Alicia did mention, however, that the pool had a chemical that would darken when someone urinated. So Levi felt safer. He walked with Erwin in his swim trunks and flip flops, a towel folded over his arm. It was a large pool with slides and beach chairs lined up around the perimeter. Levi’s inner child was screaming to go in the pool. Maybe Erwin would want to go. 

The two found a shady spot in the corner of the pool area, laying down their towels and taking off their flip flops. Levi stood up, ready to go in the pool when he noticed a familiar wet mop of hair in the water. Hange. She was with a blonde girl with a short haircut. The blonde pointed behind her towards Levi and Erwin. Hange turned around, smiling and waving to the boys. 

“Hey you two!! Come in!” She waved them over. Erwin jumped in the pool with his knees tucked to his chest, getting Levi soaked before he even entered the pool. Levi sat on the edge of the water, pushing himself in the water. The cool water was refreshing compared to the late afternoon sun.

“This is Nanaba, one of my my cabinmates,” Hange introduced her. Nanaba waved shortly to the two boys. “This is Levi and Erwin.” 

“Nice to meet you!” She chirped. “Nice to meet you.”

“Let’s try out the slides!” Hange suggested with a wide grin. She seemed much happier than earlier. For that, Levi was grateful.

“Aren’t they gonna be filled with slimy kids?” Levi retorted, trying to seem uninterested. He didn’t want to go after some smelly kid.

“Nah, the pool is only open for the older kids today,” Nanaba replied. Levi shrugged.

“Fine.” They all got out of the water, their bathing suits heavy and dripping from the water. Levi walked behind Hange, starting to stare at her as they walked up the stairs to the slide. He purposely averted his eyes to the wet concrete, avoiding the very tempting view in front of him. She looked… different. Maybe since Hange had just been wearing t-shirts or tank tops and shorts he didn’t even think of what she’d look like underneath. He felt flustered. She had tanned skin and more curves than he thought. She wore a white and beige striped bikini, the bottoms high waisted. She looked nice.

They got to the top of the slide. One of the male camp counselors was standing at the top, wearing sunglasses and a whistle around his neck. There were two slides next to each other: a purple and blue one. 

“You’ve gotta go one at a time down each slide,” he explained. “You can go first.” He was talking to Erwin first. He got in the blue one, the one with more turns and twists (to Levi’s surprise), and he got the go-ahead, pushing off and sliding down. About seven seconds later, there was a large splash that came from the pool. “You’re next,” he said to Nanaba. Hange turned to face Levi.

“Which will you do?” She asked softly. Levi thought about it for a minute.

“I’ll do blue.”

“Me too.” Nanaba screamed as she went down the purple slide. 

“You’re up,” The man said. Hange gently patted Levi’s shoulder.

“See you on the flip side.” She chuckled, getting in position for the slide. The man gave her the “okay”, and she slid down the slide.

“Woohoo!!” She echoed through the slide. Levi smiled when he heard her splash into the pool below. When the man noticed, his face quickly turned to a death glare.

“Whenever you’re ready...” the man cowered.

He got in, pushing himself off. It was a basic slide at first, then it started to curve, his body quickly sloshing to one side then the other, it went side to side quickly, a bit upwards, then he was spat out, suddenly colliding with the water. His body submerged, his ears filling with water. He turned his head towards the surface, his hair slicking back as he went above water, gasping for air.

“Wooo!” Hange cheered again with a huge grin. Levi smiled softly at her. It seemed to take her breath away.

“Let’s try the other ones!”

Day 6

The final day of camp had come. Levi hated to admit it, but he wished to stay a little while longer. He was finally starting to have a good time. It was a week to remember.

Early that morning, Alicia gathered the teams together to take photos before the final event, as well as show off some of the photos from the past week. The teams waited in line. It was finally Blue’s turn.

“Let’s get a photo of our winning team!” Alicia cheered. “Tall people in the back, shorties in the front!” Levi rolled his eyes at the comment, reluctantly standing in the front. Hange stood behind him. Levi was the only guy in the front with the rest of the girls.

“That’s you, a shorty,” Hange teased. 

“Shut up, you can’t even see,” he retorted. She laughed.

“Smile!” Levi was naturally smiling for the photo. He wished to make Hange laugh more and more. Alicia snapped the photo.

“Beautiful smiles!” She chirped. Everyone got out of their pose and started heading back towards the cabins. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen you smile,” Hange mentioned to Levi. Levi looked away. 

“It’s nothing special,” Levi replied. Hange chuckled, patting him on the back.

“It is, to me at least…” She said, much less confident than her previous statement. Levi felt his cheeks flush. Hange was pulled away by Moblit to go do an activity across the field, so Levi stuck with Erwin for the rest of that afternoon.

-

The long awaited bonfire at sunset came fast. He stayed with Erwin, clinging to him like a lost puppy, almost the entire afternoon. They played some ping pong and cornhole to pass the time. He passed Hange and Moblit, who were chatting amongst one another, but he averted his eyes to avoid looking at her. How dare she make his heart ache? She was annoying.

The orange sun was starting to hang low in the sky, the sky turning a dark red. It was something Levi would call “beautiful”. Although he disliked being outdoors, he enjoyed the beauty that sprouted in nature. All the campers were either sitting or standing around the firepit, chatting amongst one another. Erwin and Levi were sitting together on a towel on the slightly damp grass from the rainfall the night before. They were waiting for the bonfire to be lit.

“The weather really cleared up,” Erwin mentioned, leaning back on his palms. Levi agreed. The two boys heard laughing from their left. Levi recognized the laugh almost too easily. He saw Hange and Moblit laughing with each other. Hange was eventually laughing so hard no noise escaped her mouth, her hands resting on her knees. Levi felt himself smile. Her laugh cheered him up. 

Moblit saw him and Erwin, pointing towards them. Hange looked their way and waved. The two started walking over with their towels, laying them down and sitting.

“Hey,” Hange said happily, hugging her knees. “Fuck… I just realized I start school in a few days… At least I got to spend some time away from my parents.”

“I start school in a few days too,” Erwin mentioned. “Levi, what about you?”

“Yeah… same. Where do you go?” he asked. Hange flashed her teeth in her grin as she showed off her sweatshirt.

“Saint Maria High School! It’s my final year there,” Hange replied. Moblit chimed in: “Hange and I go to the same school.” 

“Oh!” Erwin noticed. “I go to Saint Sina! The second sister school. As does Saint Rose…”

“How do we all live so close and haven’t realized?” Levi mentioned. “I go to Rose.” Hange smiled again when she realized Levi went to one of the branch schools. The schools were less than ten minutes away from one another. That must’ve meant Hange and Levi lived close. After all, the camp was for kids in their city.

“Geez…” Moblit sighed. “So, we all live less than twenty minutes from each other and we never met each other?” 

“Seems so…” Levi decided. He took a glance at Hange. She was looking back at him then quickly looked away. 

“I’m gonna go grab some food,” Levi said, standing up. Hange stood too. “Me too!” She brushed off her backside before waving him along. “Let’s go!” 

Moblit and Erwin stayed behind. They had an idea of what was going on between the two, hoping they’d make a move on each other. Levi was grateful for that. They were walking towards the food stand.

“Do you wanna, like,” Levi began, speaking softly. “Hang out sometime… Like, after camp ends?” It seemed like minutes before Hange responded. Levi’s heart was pounding in his chest. She looked at him, her glasses reflecting the crescent moon.

“Are you asking me out?” She asked in a serious tone. After a moment, her cheeks puffed and she laughed softly.

“I guess,” Levi muttered. Hange stopped laughing and gasped.

“Really?” she said. The two gave their orders quickly and waited for them to be prepared.

“...Yeah.” Levi couldn’t believe the shit he was spewing from his mouth. Was he really confessing?

“Well…” She grabbed her tray from the stand. “I’d like that.” Levi grabbed his tray, glancing at her. Her cheeks were flushed red, he wasn’t sure if she was sunburnt or not.

“Me too.” They started to walk back towards their two friends.

“Why did you kiss me?” Levi thought aloud.

“I beat your time, silly,” Hange teased. Levi huffed. They got back to their friends, sitting down. Hange sat a bit closer to Levi than the last time. Levi noticed Erwin and Moblit distanced their towels further away than they were earlier.

You missed. He wanted to say. He didn’t have the guts to say it, though.

“I see…” was all he could muster. Suddenly, the fire grew tall in the firepit; licks of the red and yellow flame dancing in the air. It was beautiful. Levi towards Hange; he noticed her eyes were glowing. 

“You’re beautiful,” Levi said in awe, not realizing he said it aloud. He meant it, too. She looked beautiful in her oversized school sweatshirt and black jean shorts. She looked beautiful with her hair thrown up, her bangs framing her face. She was the most beautiful person. Hange looked towards him, giving him a smile.

“I think I missed when I kissed you,” She chuckled. “Can I try again?” Levi felt his heart start to pound in his chest, begging to escape. He took a deep breath.

“Sure.” She gave him a small smile before leaning in to kiss his lips this time. Levi only realized he was cold when her kiss warmed him up from head-to-toe. She placed her hand on his cheek, gently squishing it. It was chubbier than she thought, and she felt honored to hold him like this. He hadn’t touched her at all besides with his lips. He was too stunned to do anything else. He was leaning back on his hands, his hands gripping the towel beneath them. She pulled away from him, looking a bit breathless.

Maybe she wasn’t so annoying after all.