#realizing ive been that way for a while now without really paying any mind to the fact that i was

[chiyuuchu]

OMG… the virtual Angel one was so good I loved how u writer! I never thought I would find someone on here who knows about kpop…. ANYWAYS now that that’s out of the way I was thinking of a bakugou x reader also inspired by a kpop song called Bad Boy by Red Velvet…. If you can pretty please!!!

Ps since you know kiss of life tell me your favorite groups!!!!

he’s a really bad boy <3 (16th August 2024)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Prompt! Y/n, who is the complete opposite of Bakugou ends up in a very complicated dynamic

a/n i actually got addicted to the recommended song virtual angel and been listening to it every day! my top kpop groups are kiss of life, aespa and ive along with an honourable mention of global group katseye!

Y/N wasn’t like most of the other students at U.A. She had a reputation—one she didn’t earn by being the loudest, the strongest, or the most ambitious. No, Y/N earned her reputation by being completely unbothered by the noise around her. She was known for her calm, almost serene demeanor in the face of chaos, something that made her both admired and envied by her classmates.

Bakugou Katsuki, on the other hand, was the opposite—loud, brash, and always ready for a fight. He thrived in chaos, often causing it, and no one in their right mind would try to cross him. Well, almost no one.

From the moment Y/N walked into Class 1-A, she and Bakugou were like fire and ice. He was the explosive force that could light up a room—or burn it down—while she was the cool breeze that effortlessly put out flames without breaking a sweat. She didn’t back down, didn’t flinch, and most importantly, didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction when he tried to rile her up.

At first, Bakugou was intrigued by her nonchalance. Then he was frustrated. But eventually, that frustration turned into something else—something more dangerous. Bakugou, the ultimate bad boy, had fallen hard.

It wasn’t that Y/N was doing anything overt to get his attention. She was just doing what she always did—staying calm and collected, making quick work of any challenge thrown her way, and letting Bakugou’s fire burn without letting it consume her. And maybe that’s what made her so irresistible to him. She didn’t need to fight for control because she already had it—effortlessly.

One afternoon, Bakugou found himself cornering her in the training grounds. He was seething with that familiar fire, the kind that usually sent others running. But Y/N didn’t run. She simply crossed her arms, staring up at him with that same, maddeningly composed expression.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Bakugou growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to uncross her arms. “No. But I think you’re trying too hard to prove something.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. She had a way of cutting through the bullshit, seeing right to the heart of what was really going on. It was infuriating. And maybe a little bit... attractive?

He took a step closer, his voice dropping even lower. “You think you can handle me?”

Y/N didn’t budge, didn’t blink. “I’ve been handling you so far.”

There it was again, that calm confidence that got under his skin in a way that no one else ever had. He wasn’t used to being on the back foot, wasn’t used to someone playing the game better than him. And that’s what this was—a game. One that he was determined to win.

But as Y/N turned on her heel, leaving him standing there in the training grounds, he realized something that made his heart pound in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t a game he could win. Maybe this wasn’t about winning at all. Because for the first time in his life, Bakugou Katsuki found himself wanting something he couldn’t just take. He found himself wanting her.

And the worst part? She knew it.

Y/N wasn’t stupid. She saw the way Bakugou looked at her, the way his eyes lingered a little too long when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She saw the way he tried to goad her into reacting, to get some kind of rise out of her. But she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

She wasn’t going to give in to his fire. Not when she knew that she could make him burn brighter just by staying cool.

But she couldn’t deny the thrill she got from their interactions, the way her heart beat a little faster when he was near. Maybe she liked playing this game too—liked knowing that she had the ultimate bad boy wrapped around her little finger without even trying.

Because at the end of the day, Y/N wasn’t just unbothered. She was in control. And that, more than anything, made her the most dangerous player in the game.

But even the most controlled people have a breaking point. And as Bakugou continued to push, Y/N began to wonder if she’d finally found hers. Because while she might be able to handle Bakugou, she wasn’t so sure she could handle what he was starting to make her feel.

And that scared her more than anything.

Y/N leaned casually against the wall of the training grounds, her gaze steady as Bakugou stalked toward her, his usual scowl firmly in place. He stopped just a foot away, the air between them crackling with tension.

“Something you need, Bakugou?” Y/N asked, her tone calm and indifferent.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you always act like nothing gets to you? Like you’re untouchable.”

“Maybe because I am,” Y/N replied, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “Or maybe it’s because I’m not interested in playing your games.”

“You think this is a game?” he growled, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not scared of me?”

“Why would I be?” Y/N shrugged, unfazed. “You’re all bark, Bakugou.”

His eyes darkened, a slow smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You really think you can handle me?”

Y/N didn’t back down, her voice soft but firm. “I’ve been handling you just fine, Bakugou. Question is, can you handle me?”

The training grounds echoed with the sound of rapid footsteps and the crackling of explosions as Y/N and Bakugou clashed in an intense sparring match. Sweat dripped down Bakugou’s forehead as he launched himself at Y/N with a powerful blast, but she moved with the grace of someone who had done this a hundred times before, dodging his attack with ease.

“Too slow, Bakugou,” Y/N taunted, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Bakugou growled, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Shut up and fight me properly!”

“Gladly.”

Y/N’s movements were fluid, almost effortless, as she weaved through his explosive attacks. With a calculated flick of her wrist, she created a powerful shockwave that sent him staggering back. Before he could recover, she was on him, flipping him to the ground with a swift move that knocked the wind out of him.

Bakugou landed on his back with a grunt, staring up at Y/N as she stood over him, her breathing steady. He scowled, anger flaring in his eyes, but beneath the surface, there was something else—something he wasn’t willing to admit, not even to himself.

She had beaten him, fair and square, and for a split second, he couldn’t help but think that the way she looked, standing victorious above him, was incredibly hot.

“You done yet?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Bakugou clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the strange flutter in his chest. “Not by a long shot.”

“Good,” she said, offering him a hand to help him up. “Because neither am I.”

The 1-A common room was buzzing with chatter as the class gathered for a rare evening of relaxation. Snacks were spread out on the coffee table, and everyone was lounging around, enjoying the break from their usual hectic schedules.

Y/N sat comfortably on the couch, leaning back with a content smile as she watched her classmates banter. Bakugou was sitting on the armrest beside her, arms crossed and a familiar scowl on his face.

“So, Y/N,” Kirishima began, leaning forward with a grin. “How do you deal with Bakugou so well? You’re the only one who doesn’t end up as an explosion target.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Bakugou shot Kirishima a glare. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Exactly,” Kaminari chimed in, smirking. “You guys bicker like an old married couple, and she’s always got you under control. How do you do it, Y/N?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “It’s simple, really. I just don’t let him get away with his usual crap. Someone’s gotta keep him in check.”

Bakugou huffed, looking down at her. “Like you could keep me in check, dumbass.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back, rolling her eyes. “You’re all bark and no bite, Bakugou. I just don’t take you seriously when you throw one of your tantrums.”

“Tantrums?!” Bakugou growled, leaning closer, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t throw tantrums, you annoying little—”

“See what I mean?” Y/N interrupted, unbothered. “He’s like an overgrown toddler.”

The class erupted into laughter again, and Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “I swear, you’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet,” Y/N said, smirking as she looked up at him, “you’re always hanging around me. Makes me wonder if you secretly like having someone who can actually put up with you.”

Bakugou opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. He clenched his jaw, turning his head away with a low grumble. “Tch, whatever.”

The class exchanged knowing looks, nudging each other as they watched the two continue their playful bickering.

“Well,” Mina said with a grin, “you two sure know how to keep things interesting. It’s almost like watching a rom-com.”

“Yeah,” Sero added with a chuckle, “except with more explosions and insults.”

Y/N just shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Bakugou, who was still grumbling under his breath. “I guess it’s just our dynamic. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[snifflie-ollie]

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (SINCE MAY???) HOLY SHIT

In Hiding

Two secret agents suddenly have to hide together. Tight spaces and itchy noses might make it difficult, though.

this is my first fic that ive been working on forEVER (i kept. um. getting distracted while writing...) sorry if there's errors!!

tags: sneezing while hiding, stifling, oc has the kink, failed holdbacks, inducing, allergies, i need to write them having sex now

Listening for the others outside, Audrey shifted slightly--as much as she could--to get a bit more comfortable in the space. Her and Robin were pressed up against each other suddenly. It was dark inside, only slightly illuminated by the cracks between the door and the wall, so she couldn't see Robin's facial expression inside the... was it a closet? a locker? She hadn't looked long enough to check, only rushing in as soon as she heard more voices. Whatever it was, it was way smaller than anticipated, and uncomfortable--she made a mental note to schedule an appointment with her chiropractor.

Of course it just had to be Robin she was stuck with. Pent up feelings toward them made for a very awkward position, as her struggle to remain professional began to crumble.

Suddenly, Audrey noticed a shift in Robin's breath, which she could feel on the base of her neck. It was sharper now, and she felt their body begin to tense up.

"When was the last time someone cleaned in here?" They whispered, soft enough that only Audrey could hear. "Shit, I have to sneeze. Can I muffle it into your shoulder?"

Fuck.

Audrey simply nodded, and Robin shifted to the suit fabric that she was wearing, hovering over it as their hitches grew.

Audrey could feel her heart pounding over every trembling breath. She wasn't paying any attention to the people outside anymore; how could she?

"Ha--haaahh..." Each hitch was a shake in their chest, just audible enough to pull Audrey in as the tension rose. She'd seen their nostrils flare the previous times, straight nose crinkling at the top. God, she wished she could see it now.

"hhHHXXSH--" they jerked, stifling into Audrey's shoulder, causing her to shudder.

Quietly sniffing, Robin pulled back for just a moment, giving a sniffle. "Fuck, sorry, I don't want to get your suit all gross."

"It's fine; I don't mind," Audrey muttered, attempting to hide her fluster. She really didn't mind.

"Shit, aahnother one--hh... hahh..."

She could feel their warm breath hitching against her again, quicker this time.

"HXXSHMF--"

This time they miscalculated, aiming into Audrey's neck instead, whose stiff outward appearance shattered as she melted in the moment.

"Audrey--"

She snapped back, trying to regain any sense of levelheadedness. "Hm?"

"Your... hhhair," they whispered into her ear, voice trembling, and Audrey realized in the faint illumination that her hair was now completely brushed up against their nose, some of it inside, tickling their already sensitive nostrils.

"Shit, let me--" she cut herself off, attempting to squirm around and move her hair out of the way. However, the moving just irritated the itch, and she realized that only a bit too late.

"Don't move, you'll ju... ah--HAH--H'ASHHXX!"

Robin just barely muffled in time into a now dizzy Audrey.

"What was that?" A voice boomed from outside, and the duo froze in place.

Sniffling, Robin scrunched up their face in the dark, something Audrey could now see as her vision adjusted.

She shook her head at them. Any noise now would give their position away and get them captured.

They nodded their head back at her--one they Audrey loved and hated about them. If Robin was going to sneeze, Robin was going to sneeze.

"Hhaahhh..." They began to hitch again, tilting their head back slightly. "HAhh-! Hhh..."

Audrey could see their nose trembling in the dark, their hands instinctively trying to reach up to it, so, without thinking, she took matters into her own hands and shoved a finger under their nose.

It was wet from the previous sneezes, and Robin flinched in enough surprise to distract their nose for the moment being.

Eventually, they could hear the sound of chairs shifting and people walking out as one of the voices grumbled about the end of a meeting.

After a few minutes of painstaking silence, they opened the locker to find the room empty again, and both sighed in relief.

"Okay, we've got the files, lets get the fuck out of here," Audrey commanded, looking over at Robin, who had a rolled up tissue shoved up their red nose with a dazed look. "What are you doing?!"

"I d,diidn't--hah--get the laaahsst sneeze out," they hitchily replied.

Crossing her arms, Audrey continued to stare, pretending to be unammused.

They sniffled, taking out the tissue. "Fuck, I can't get it."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Here, let me do it."

Robin complied, and Audrey rolled up another end of the tissue and placed it in their left nostil, rubbing up and down the insides. She could see their fluster, but assumed it was simply from never having induced before.

"That reh, really tiiickles--"

"That's the point."

Now that they were in the light, this time, Audrey could see Robin's desperate scarlet nostrils flaring and trembling, begging for relief. She stuck the tissue further, circling the back of their nose.

"Ah, Audrey, I'm gonnahh--hAh--sneeh, eeze," they warned through hitched breaths.

Audrey didn't move, simply pushing in further until she hit a particually sensitive spot. "Shh, don't try to talk, just focus."

"Hhah... hh--hAH...!" They leaned their head back with closed, watery eyes, reaching up a hand out of instinct, though, it was futile; Audrey was in the way. Robin lurched forward, letting out their first unstifled wet sneeze in hours, and, unintentionally, all over Audrey.

"HhhHHAI'CHEW!"

Sniffing, they wiped their nose. "Fuck, that felt really good. I need to try that. You're great at that."

Audrey shrugged, but couldn't help but give a smirk. "I'm good at everything," she replied cockily.

With that out of the way, the two of them left. Both would think about the incident later that night, individually relieving the tension they'd had beforehand.

[1eos]

hi miss kendra, i need some advice if you don't mind. your new job journey has inspired me to quit the fuckass job i'm sick of but the audhd hates to think of change, and i don't know if i should just go for a masters instead to jump up a level in the job market. or, would you suggest joining the girls in stem with a python course? i hate to see my degree (business) go to waste and have been avoiding smth in software bc of that but if the jobs are good i might have to bc i can NOT stay here any longer w no progression money wise.

i dont mind at all <3 the main reason why i will never leave tumblr is that if you curate it right this can really become a support group for audhd adults and we all help each other survive this sick ass world. bc wow that audhd response to change is sooooo hard to deal with in the workplace which sucks bc in this current climate changing jobs frequently kinda is the wave rn

but anyways advice. obvs i can't know exactly what's best for you but i will throw some questions that helped me figure out where to narrow my focus!

1st. to answer the question is i would suggest joining the girls in stem. absolutely! but don't limit your focus to a python course. the main reason i didnt get into stem earlier was that i didn't realize there were sooooo many different niches of stem and thought that just bc i didnt necessarily want to do 0s and 1s exclusively it wasn't for me but now taking different classes im seeing its a lot of different things i could excel in. like i went in doing web design and realized while i don't enjoy that the way i expected it introduced me to networking, cybersecurity, and data science which i AM interested in. so if you're interested but java gives you the ick (valid) def start poking around free resources first before committing. i investigated some reddit threads and found online it training things that i did and ofc there are a bunch of books too

currently ive subscribed to tryhackme. of all of the hands on training courses its one of the cheapest at $14 a month and its walking me through all the different areas of networking and cybersecurity and its been helpful in getting my feet wet so i can pinpoint what fields im genuinely interested in. currently, im focused on trying to find a field where im truly 100% interested in digging in bc for me ive found caring abt my field gives me excitement that takes the edge off of the ego death change puts me through 😭😭😭😭

i say all that first bc a masters will be a GREAT boon to level up your income esp if you want to work for any kind of university which i would recommend as a good starting place bc the benefits tend to be really good and colleges are relatively more chill workplaces. however, depending on which field you go in just know that a lot of jobs will take the official certifications and your bachelors. and certifications are way cheaper than masters degrees so keep that in mind. especially if you get a certification, get employed in the stem field and then you may have the chance of your employer helping pay for your masters

ofc if you can afford to get your masters now you could go the other direction and start school now and use your school's connections to get student work/part time work in your field and then your odds of being hired in a permanent position after graduating goes up by 300000000000%

and i would suggest sitting down and making a list of everything you hate about your current job and what, ideally, you want for not your dream job but like...the job that could bring you the most content you know? if you're not living to work, picture what you want to do and how your job can help facilitate that without getting in the way.

so like for me my goal is to be able to do the art i want to do without having to worry about starving to death and have as much time to focus on art. bc that's my goal i realized i wanted a job that:

in a stable field where i could potentially get a job anywhere

pays well and consistently

remote work possible

flexible schedule so that i could work less than 5 days a week

clear upward trajectory

not centered around customer service 😭

relatively low stress and doesnt need crazy hours

so with this listed out i realized i didn't actually want my main job to be in the art field bc of the inconsistency and that stem could work for me and then from there anytime i find a new job that i think i could do i investigate it and check to see if the field is shrinking, education requirements, etc etc.

this is a lot but i hope at least one of these thoughts helps you! 💖

[doctor-says-im-alright]

This lacks a heavy degree of nuance and more consideration and this take is a bit strange.

Its not a given. Its not a standard. I dont think Ive ever even really hard it stated as so, not to discredit that you have heard it.

But I will challenge it, its rather discompassionate to say it is jealous abled siblings and peers (not to say those people dont exist, they would fall into a different category Id say… generally selfish assholes, with narcissistic nature. But truly that is a rare category, if it even exists somehow without abuse being part of it).

You can take my family as an example… my little sister was mentally ill. She was rather depressed and had social anxiety, as well as ADHD, she became the “baby.” All the attention went to her, so much so that CPS was calling on us, I was the reason for her illnesses/the scapegoat. She really was mentally ill, and she really was favored, as in my parents took her to get help, harshly punished my siblings and I for behaving as normal siblings.

I have 2 other siblings. My little brother very clearly also had ADHD, a learning disability, and also depressed. He was ignored, and my dad often bullied him badly. My older brother used drugs to cope, and it later came out my little brother self harmed. I also self harmed, was sexually assaulted by a coworker twice my age when I was 16, groomed further by him because there was nowhere for me to go, I was kicked out for them finding out about it rather than helped, I continue to be put down to this day. Mind you I am 24 now, I have been in 12 psych wards in total over a year in just the past 5 years. I asked my dad to look after the family cat recently for me while I was in one and he told me it was too inconvenient.

They were falling over themselves to help my sister with everything. I remember the first time she was in a hospital, last year. First and only time. They felll over themselves to answer her phone calls and be with her. I remember one of my calls they yelled at me for the phone bill, told me they were too busy watching football, etc. she was only in for med adjustments, I was in after failing suicide. They pay for everything for her, while I was actually homeless for months due to being unable to afford anything.

But she was also subject to my parents abuse. She was forced into complete helplessness, unable to learn any skills because my parents decided for her she was incapable. I think a bit of Gypsy Rose, that story, but less severe ofc.

I am not unique. Ive heard many similar stories. I hear your pain, but I see it as the same situation honestly. She probably didnt realize she was favored - because frankly being favored means nothing about being safe from abuse. It is very clear to me anyone expressing how a ill sibling was favored was also mistreated. Like it is very obvious there is neglect and loneliness in there, if not heading all the way up to trauma levels of so. Development time is seriously a damaging time for even the slightest things to be off.

They are miscommunicating it and not being thoughtful enough just the same.

the “parents favor the sick child” stereotype is so utterly fucking untrue . I’ve literally seen parents make their teen kid babysit their 3 younger siblings while getting chemotherapy for aggressive cancer

the myth that when you’re sick you’re given everything you want is such insane made up bullshit 95% fabricated by jealous abled siblings and peers who will go on to disown you the microsecond you don’t get them attention anymore

[mangles-fruity-maze]

???

[drabbles-mc]

Be Here

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Can be read as a standalone orrrr if you're feeling extra angsty can be read as a sequel to Begging You

Warnings: 18+, major character death, language, hospitals, mentions of blood/injuries, angst

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Idk what was up with my brain today but I literally sat down and wrote this on my lunch break at work. It's...it's something. Anyway! Have some sadness!

Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @anditsmywholeheart @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @enjoy-the-destruction @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon @justazzi @darklydeliciousdesires (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Even on the chaotic drive to the hospital, you hadn’t fully passed out. Things got dangerously fuzzy a few times, but you had managed to hold into a few tethers of consciousness. Very little of that had to do with actual willpower on your part, and much more to do with Angel’s determination to keep you awake.

You didn’t really remember getting to the hospital. You sort of remembered being in the van, then everything went a bit blurry for a while there, and then you were suddenly in an obnoxiously bright hospital room. The incessant beeping of machines was drowned out only by the sound of Angel angrily explaining to his MC brothers what had happened. You didn’t listen too closely to that. You knew what happened—you were there.

Your eyes were glued to the ceiling tiles above you, feeling like any movement at all would take too much effort. They had you on and off all sorts of IV’s in the short time you’d been there. None of that was reassuring. You were with it just enough to know that things didn’t seem to be looking good.

In almost perfect contrast to Angel’s yelling, you heard EZ’s voice. Calm, collected, like always. “We will handle this, but you need to stay here.”

“Fuck that,” Angel spat. “If you think I’m just gonna fuckin’—”

“Quiet down,” EZ scolded him like a parent to a child.

Angel toned his voice down a little, but not much. It was like he was physically incapable of it. “You guys can’t just—”

“Angel?” You were the one who interrupted him this time. Your voice was weak, raspy. It was a wonder either of them had even heard it over all of the machines and their own voices.

Angel was by your side in a flash. You felt the slight shift of the hospital bed as he leaned against it. He braced against the handle frame, positioning himself so he could look directly at you, and you at him without trying to turn your head too much.

“Hey,” he forced out, choked up and tears in his eyes. The brief pause in his anger allowing his sadness to take over.

“Don’t leave,” you pled.

His frown deepened, conflict flashing across his eyes as he gazed down at you. “Querida, I can’t…we gotta…” He couldn’t put the sentence together. Taking a deep breath, he gently stroked his thumb along your cheek, paying no mind to the dried grime and blood there. “They gotta pay for this.”

You tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t quite manage it. “Later.”

The anger was starting to resurface. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw. “But…”

With all the strength you could muster, you moved your hand so that it was resting on his arm. “I don’t need you to be angry, baby,” you told him, tears in your eyes now too. “I need you to be here.” You coughed, which made your whole body hurt. “Can you be here?”

As his eyes stayed locked onto yours, Angel came to the realization that he didn’t know how to do that. When things went south, he was always somewhere else, doing something else. He knew how to go out there and get revenge, how to do something, get some kind of tangible result. What he didn’t know, though, was how to stay at your bedside and do nothing but wait.

You could see it, too. You tried to give his arm a squeeze and it sort of worked. “Please.”

“Angel,” EZ spoke up. You’d forgotten that he was even in the room. “Stay. We’ll handle it.”

He knew he wasn’t going to win against both of you. he didn’t take his eyes off of you as he sniffled, nodding as he said, “I’ll stay. I’m…I’m here.”

You managed a smile, a weak one, but still. “Thank you.”

For a few seconds, the only noise in the room was coming from the machines beside your bed. Then it was the sound of the door shutting behind EZ as he left. Once it was just the two of you, you saw Angel’s resolve start to deteriorate.

Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours, gently but firmly cupping the side of your face. You felt the way that he trembled as he tried to take deep breaths. “Fuck, I’m so—” he choked back a sob, “I’m so sorry.”

Your hand was shaking as you rested it over his. “I’m not.”

He shut his eyes tight as he shook his head. “When this is over…” his voice trailed off, not sure how to end that sentence. He didn’t know what “over” looked like. He didn’t want to admit that to you, didn’t want to think about the worst outcome, the most probably outcome.

“Come here.” You didn’t have the strength to try and pull him into the bed with you. Luckily, he took the cue. He carefully shifted you over just enough for him to be able to shimmy into the bed alongside you.

He draped his arm on the pillow just above your head, giving the illusion of holding you without disturbing you. It felt like any move might be the thing that broke you for good.

The heat radiating off his body felt like heaven. You wished that you could curl into him. “Are you angry?” you asked.

“No,” he said softly as he kissed the side of your head.

You knew he was lying, but it sounded nice. Given the state of things, a few small lies to make you feel better was something you could live with.

“I told you,” he said as he traced his fingers along the edge of your forehead, “I’m here.”

“You’ll stay until it’s over?” you asked quietly, fighting the urge to let your eyes close.

He’d been the one who was so adamant about you keeping your eyes open. Now, though, for the briefest moment, he almost wished you’d close them so you wouldn’t see him break down. He clenched his fist on top of the pillow, white-knuckled where you couldn’t see it. Resting his forehead against the side of your head, you felt the way he brushed his nose against you as he fought to keep the one last shred of composure that he still had.

“Yea, baby,” he finally said, “until it’s over.”

“You love me?” you asked.

Angel didn’t know how, despite the pain and the exhaustion, you still managed to sound so peaceful, almost positive. He kissed you on the cheek. “Always.”

You laced your fingers with his, feeling the smooth metal of his rings. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A sob broke through, and you could feel his tears land against your skin. He squeezed your hand, almost tight enough to make it hurt but you didn’t care. It didn’t hurt any worse than the rest of it.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

A few minutes went by with neither of you saying anything. The slowing beeps of the monitor next to your bed cut the silence. You could hear footsteps in the hall, running feet racing towards people in as bad of shape as you, people they might still be able to help.

Angel’s breathing had evened out even though his tears hadn’t stopped. He pulled his head back to look at you and saw that your eyes were closed. He cupped your cheek, thumb tracing along the bruised skin there.

“You still with me?”

You gave a weak smile, opening your eyes up a tiny bit. “I’m with you.” You pushed, trying to clear your throat before asking, “You still with me?”

He chuckled through the tears. “Yea, I’m with you.”

“You think they’ll bring me another blanket?” you asked softly.

Angel’s heart sank. “I got it.”

He carefully got out of the bed and went to the closet that was on the opposite side of the room. He rummaged for a minute before finding the blanket, but as soon as he did he shot right back over to you and set about tucking you in.

“Better?”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He managed to get right back in beside you, laying even closer now if that was possible. “Whatever you need.”

You both fell quiet after that. Angel wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off of you even if his life depended on it. He lightly traced patterns along your arm and the back of your hand. He tried to take comfort in the small smile it put on your face. He didn’t say it out loud, but he noticed the way your breathing continued to change.

“Angel?”

He frowned at the way your eyes were still closed. “Yea, baby?”

“Do you think,” you managed to turn just enough for your arm to drape across his chest, “it’s okay for me to sleep now?”

His bottom lip began to quiver as he let out a shaky exhale. He kissed your temple. “I think,” he held you tighter, “I think it’s okay.”

Your body relaxed into his. “I love you.”

He tucked your head under his chin. “I love you too.”

He held you as tightly as he could without hurting you, waiting for the inevitable moment. You seemed almost comfortable, almost peaceful. And then the beeps finally stopped.

[roniscloud]

lhs - runnin’

lee heeseung [a. + f. 4700 words] runnin’

to you

you came up on some new

i know i shouldn’t feel blue

‘cause i was runnin’ out of time for you

synopsis: you met heeseung in your freshman year of college and immediately hit it off. you’ve made it to your third year and when everyone including yourselves thought that you were each other’s endgame, the devastation when you two split was immeasurable. you both know there’s still love between you. this break allows you both to realize new things. can you two find your ways back to each other? will this be the final goodbye?

genre + tropes: angst. fluff. comedy. college!au. establishedrelationship!au. exes!au.

warnings: fem reader. swearing. arguing. nosy friends. cold heeseung and cold reader. drifting relationship. interventions. slight suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned like once. they both pine over each other. mentions of alcohol and binge drinking. maybe not a happy ending. if you choose to see it that way. whoops. appearances of the rest of enha plus txt yeonjun and soobin.

i.  the break

“so this is how it’s gonna end? i thought we were doing fine.”

heeseung erupts into an even angrier fit, “are you kidding me? we are not fucking fine. in what world is this fine? tell me!”

you scoff from where you stand cross-armed on the other side of the bedroom. “well, can you really blame me? it’s hard to see if there’s something wrong if we never see each other.”

“exactly my point! we don’t see each other.”

the two of you have been at each other’s throats since heeseung showed up at your apartment. you have no idea how long ago that was or when the argument started. all you remember is coming up to him when he arrived, wanting to actually spend some time with him. instead he shrugged you off and ignored you, blaming the fatigue. the rest has been a blur. one of you made an offhand comment and now here you are: frustrated and in another fight.

a quick recap: you two met at a mutual friend’s party. you thought that each other was attractive and he ended up asking you out. from there you kept going out, fell in love, dated, and everyone thought you were perfect together. three years later and it’s getting tiring. life has been draining trying to balance it all.

“and who’s fault is that?”

annoyed, he snaps back, “oh please, you can not put the blame solely on me.”

“bullshit. i sure can when i’m the only one making an effort here. i’ve actually been trying to save us. you, on the other hand…” you pause again, rolling your eyes, “well, we both know just how much you care.”

his jaw drops, defensively he spits back, “are you genuinely implying that i don’t care about you? about us? that’s rich.”

you move to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at a single spot on the floor. you can see the shadow of heeseing pacing back and forth. you sit there, not looking at each other. the only sounds to be heard are his footsteps and the heavy sighs from you. you think back to the last several weeks. you recall each of the times you have been able to see each other. there’s no substance, nothing memorable. the only thing that comes to mind is that you always end up not talking at all or arguing.

just like right now.

“be real, heesung. when was the last time we went on a date? when was the last time you stayed the night without it ending up with you just knocking out? when was the last time we actually sat down and had a conversation? be honest because i will. i can’t remember.”

“and yet you thought we were fine?”

“well it’s better to believe a good lie than face the hurtful truth. i’m trying to save this relationship. i’m trying all the fucking time and you don’t do shit.”

he spits back frustrated, “well maybe that’s because there’s nothing to be saved.”

“are you kidding me right now? am i supposed to be scared? you tell me that there’s nothing to be saved and expect me to just give up?”

“sorry but i’m not running from this anymore.”

“you’re not sorry and we both know it.” you push yourself back up to stand, resting your hands on your hips, “you can’t say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. that’s not how this works.”

“this isn’t what i wanted to happen. this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“then make it work.”

“i- i can’t,” he holds his hands over his face, running one through his hair, “it’s too much.”

“so what? what do you mean?”

he finally stops. he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, “i just can’t see this working anymore, at least not like this.”

ii. week one

you thought this would be more difficult. that this would be the hardest pill to swallow. the first week apart may actually be the easiest. nothing has really changed. that’s probably because you haven’t told anyone that you two are no longer together. perhaps the time that you didn’t spend with each other before the break up had trained you for this.

life goes on, with or without heeseung. that’s what you keep telling yourself. you choose to get caught up with your life. you have other priorities. it’s not a crime to focus on yourself for the first time in three years.

heeseung feels the same. he doesn’t see any point on dwelling on the breakup. sure, he was the one who made the decision. he’s the one who put it out there. he’s the one who ended it and the one who is taking responsibility.

lucky for both of you, you don’t have any courses together and your schedules don’t really coincide. there’s no chance at any awkward run-ins. there is this weird, tiny feeling though. there’s this small inkling of something missing. you both suppress it. i mean, hell, the breakup just happened.

iii. scheming

meanwhile, your friends have all seemed to notice that the two of you are off. they aren’t sure what it is. they get that you two have had some time apart, but you’re both adults with lives. you have your own classes, jobs, other friends, and such. no one mentions it because they don’t think it’s their business.

but come on… there’s no way they won’t get to the bottom of it. our resident gossips, sunoo and sunghoon, team up and make it their mission to snoop around. of course, they take precautions to not get caught. the scheming duo find out nothing, to no avail.

now the gang of the scheming duo plus jay, jake, and niki have convened in the common room of jungwon’s dorm building. the 02z are all playing billiards in one corner. sunoo battles jungwon in a game of ping pong. the youngest of the group sits by himself on one of the couches, contemplating if he should speak up. they’ve been in a heated discussion as they try to figure out what exactly has been irking them.

riki, against his own conscience, speaks up to the five. he has this gut feeling and innocently wants to voice his opinion. “what if,” the young boy start out while gauging the faces of the others, “now don’t get mad and just hear me out.” he stops again, taking his time to make eye contact with each of the older boys, waiting until they all nod, “what if… they broke up?”

the group of friends all exchange glances with each other before breaking out into laughter. jay composes himself a bit, still chuckling when he says, “seriously? you think they broke up? heeseung and y/n? yeah, no way.”

sunoo leans onto the ping pong table and eggs him on, “they are literally soulmates.”

jungwon sets his racket down and goes to plop himself next to riki on the couch, “there is no way in hell the two of them split.”

iv. breaking news

“yeah, we split.” plain and simple. three words that crushed the poor hearts of jake and jungwon. he broke the news over brunch. he sensed their curiosity when they deliberately never brought you up. 

“good joke there, dude. almost had me for a second.” jake says, awkwardly with a forced laugh.

the youngest of the three chiming in and agreeing, “yeah, that’s really funny.” a silence hits the booth. “you are joking… right?”

the oldest then looks back and forth between the two, tilting his head to one side like a confused pup. he doesn’t see why they think he would joke and simply replies, “nope. you guys haven’t asked so i’m guessing you tried to snoop around and pick up on my cues. i’m also guessing sunoo’s behind this whole operation.”

“ok wait,” jake interjects, “what do you mean you broke up? you can’t just break up.”

jungwon agrees, “he’s right. you two are just playing a prank on us.”

“guys, i’m serious. y/n and i are no longer together.” the two just freeze, jaws dropped, eyes wide. “besides, it’s better this way.”

v. bad timing

meanwhile the remaining four members of their friend group have met up in the campus library in an attempted study session. so far, they’ve just gone back to gossiping and slacking off. the boys all find themselves teetering on the verge of sleep. that is until sunghoon catches you walking in. immediately going to softly pat the others back awake, they all look up confused. trying to stay subtle, hoon jerks his head to the side in your direction.

you make your way to one of the shelves, searching high and low for a book you need for your literature class. sneaking up behind you comes choi yeonjun, the library aid and a friend of yours. 

“need any help?”

“no thanks, i’m good jun.” you give him a polite smile.

unbeknownst to both of you, the failure of a study group has creeped to a closer table. they knew that you two were friends but they still can’t help but eavesdrop. “will you two please shut up so we can hear them?” the annoyed face evident on sunghoon’s face at the bickering of sunoo and niki. he turns to see jay, snacking and not paying attention. he rolls his eyes at the group, his gaze then catching yeonjun leading you out of the shelves. quickly shushing the three and nodding his head in your direction again, they finally get the hint.

yeonjun steps in front of you, “so you know my friend soobin, right?”

“soobin… as in choi soobin?”

yeonjun flashes his bright smile, “that’s the one.”

“yeah i know him. we had a stats class together a while back. he definitely taught me a few tricks around a calculator.” you laugh with him, “he’s super sweet, and needless to say cute too.”

“well, am i glad to hear that! long story short, he’s kinda been crushing on you lately and wants to know if you’re free. he mentioned your shared class before but he said he never got your number.”

“since you have mine already, go ahead and give it to him. tell him i’m free whenever he is.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrows at your boldness, “will do. i just wanted to ask you first before i gave it to him because… y’know…”

“no worries, i completely understand.”

he gives a quick goodbye before going back to his desk. storming quickly, four faces appear in front of you, all a combination of confusion, shock, and anger. 

sunoo starts, “um… y/n. why are you telling yeonjun to give your number to another guy?”

“yeah, are you cheating on heeseung?” his partner in crime, sunghoon, joins in.

you pause and scan their faces. your face dawns an equally as confused expression. “how can i cheat on someone who isn’t my boyfriend?”

four jaws simultaneously drop. riki’s being the first to close and answer a bit hushed, “i knew it.”

jay turns to him in disbelief, “not the time, niki!”

“did heeseung not tell you guys?” you ask them slowly. “i assumed he would be the one to let you all know.”

“that you two broke up?!” sunoo asks angrily, being shushed by yeonjun from the counter. giving an apologetic smile then tuning back into your conversation, “what do you mean you two broke up?”

“we just… broke up. that’s it. end of story. now if you’ll excuse me, i have to actually study.”

they watch you check out the book you came in for originally and walk out the doors, unsure of what to do next.

vi. the intervention

arranging your monthly movie night was not exactly the easiest task given the tensions surrounding two people in your group. so the only logical solution that they all could think of was to simply not to tell one of you that the other was coming over. a fool-proof plan.

in the dorm of the 02z, you did not expect to see heeseung when you walked in.

he gets up from his spot on the couch, “what the hell is going on here?”

“yeah, an explanation would be nice.” you cross your arms as you glare at the younger boys.

niki, trying to act as mediator gestures for both of you two sit on the loveseat—the same loveseat that was always reserved for the two of you before. “this is an intervention.”

after the confession of their intentions, everyone goes quiet. not a single word is spoken for several minutes, no one knowing how to start. after much internal contemplation, jungwon finally attempts to start. “we brought you two here today because- you know what, i can’t do this.” he stops and cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands.

sunoo sits next to him with his arms crossed. “how dare you two? our parents gets divorced and we don’t even get a notice.” it was common for them to refer to you and heeseung as the parents of the group, being the oldest. although something about sunoo still calling you by that nickname stings, him shaking his head to display his disappointment making you feel guilty. 

you see heeseung out of the corner of your eye avoiding looking up to your friends. “look, i don’t see the big deal. we broke up. that happens when relationships don’t work out.”

sunghoon quickly intervenes, “how can you say it isn’t a big deal? you’re letting three years go to waste and that’s all you can say? that’s what happens.” he scoffs at how shameless you come off.

“well, would you rather us stay together even when we were unhappy?” their reactions were a mix of shouts, the words yes, of course not, and duh all blending into each other.

that’s what brought your ex boyfriend out of his daze. “y/n has a point. we broke up and it’s over. we were no longer happy and i don’t see the point in bringing it up again either. it’s in the past. let it go.” he says rather coldly and sternly. him actually saying it and acknowledging it caused that weird feeling to come back. his body language is off, too. your years together has taught you enough about heeseung to know when he’s upset, especially with himself.

jake takes his turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands and muttering sadly, ��but you promised each other forever.”

that prompts you and heeseung to glance at each other quickly, making eye contact and it lingering for a couple of seconds. you look away first, not noticing that his stare doesn’t leave you.”some promises just can’t be kept.” your response then making him turn away.

“bullshit.” it’s the first word uttered by jay this entire time. “neither of you are the type to break promises.”

“some things can’t be helped,” heeseung defends.

jay, getting angrier, asks his friend, “did you know that she’s already going on a date? yeah, that guy, soobin. i’m pretty sure you know who he is. your ex,” he makes sure to stress the last word with a certain degree of annoyance, “thinks he’s cute.”

emotionless, heeseung answers back, “good for her, then.”

you were sure that you were over him, that’s why you said yes to the date. but something about him not caring leaves you feeling odd.

jungwon stops your train of thought, “no, you’re supposed to be upset. you’re supposed to get jealous and confess you still want to be with her. you’re supposed to fight for her and be together.”

another quick glance between the two of you, lasting longer than the previous one. no words are said on his end, but you know exactly what he’s trying to say. “he doesn’t have to fight when i’m the one who ended it.” you knew him. you knew he couldn’t admit to the others his decision. after all, he wants to be a good role model even in his darkest times. he couldn’t crush their idea of love and you did what you had to do. you lied for his sake—and maybe even yours.

vii. him

two months have passed since the breakup. there’s tension amongst the friend group, the six not wanting to pick sides between you and heeseung. they’re constantly going back and forth, like they’re walking on eggshells as to not bring up something that only happened with the other.

to get your mind off everything, you’ve found comfort in soobin. well, more accurately you’ve found comfort in between his sheets, or wherever you two decide for it to go down. that’s not to say the dates aren’t great. you’re not official and you both know that. your latest date, however, couldn’t help but feel weird.

the date was going pretty well. don’t get me wrong—soobin is a great guy. he’s sweet, caring, funny, and handsome. you have a lot in common like your taste in drinks and movies. maybe if you had met him first, you would’ve dated him… but you didn’t meet him first. you met heeseung first, and soobin isn’t heeseung.

you found yourself drifting from the conversation now and then, thinking about how heeseung would’ve been at that moment. you think back to his habits, particularly the way he raises his eyebrows whenever he’s excited or talking about something he’s passionate about. you always found it endearing. over the course of dinner, you are able to notice that soobin has some cute habits too, like him covering his face when he gets shy or puffing out his cheeks. but it still isn’t the same.

“you two deserve each other.”

soobin catches your attention again with that comment. “what?”

“you and heeseung. i know that look. don’t try to lie to me.”

“look, heeseung is my past, and i want it to stay that way.”

“do you really want it to stay that way, or are you just afraid of what could happen if you let him back into your present?”

you give him a teasing glare, “don’t get all philosophical with me. i just don’t think he and i can go back to how we were before.”

“what’s so bad about you two changing? obviously if it didn’t work out, you shouldn’t try to be what you were before.”

“can’t i just try with you?”

“as much as i would love for you to give me that chance, i can’t do that to you or to myself. it’s not fair.”

you hesitantly ask him, “but is it worth it?”

“that’s not my decision to make.”

viii. her

now that you’re virtually not in his life, he seems to be looking for you everywhere. actually… rather than going out of his way to look for you, everything just reminds him of you. the jingles of the commercials you always sang along to, your favorite songs on the radio, the reruns of 90’s shows you always binged. hell, even when he was making ramen, he was reminded of how you would make his favorite for him every time he was stressed over an exam. he was sitting in the back of the lecture hall, trying so hard to stay awake for his 3 hour long class with the most boring professor on campus. he fought the urge to text you since it felt like second nature to rely on you to help cheer him up.

there was a particular night when it really hit him. reality smacked him in the face late one evening. heeseung was bored out of his mind, laying alone in bed, aimlessly browsing netflix to find something to watch. he thinks to himself y/n would’ve slammed this laptop closed and talked all night about random and obscure topics. he laughs to himself, reliving the memories. right then, it’s obvious. he misses her.

ix. promises

the rain hitting your bedroom window had no help on your already gloomy mood. what did help was the bottle of soju- well more realistically, four bottles of soju. it was all the liquid courage you needed to call heeseung at three in the morning. 

you sat drowsily on the rug of your living room, your phone on speaker and placed in front of you as you stared out the dewy glass. you heard the phone ring seven times, ready to hang up until you heard his groggy voice come out from the other end. “hello? y/n, why are you up?”

you laugh softly and ask him, sounding loopy, “why are you up?”

“because you’re calling me. would you like to give me a reason why, and are you drunk?”

“maybe. anyways, you know… i was thinking. we broke a lot of promises and it hurts. i have to know that we’re not bad people. i have to keep at least one, right?”

heeseung groans but lets you ramble, knowing that you won’t stop until you’ve said it all, “go on…”

“we made a promise that if something was going on, if we were in a dark place, that we would talk to someone. well, if you couldn’t tell by now, i’m not in the best place. the first person i thought to talk to was you.”

“why me?”

“shhh… don’t ask questions. i know you’re tired so just stay on the phone and let me talk. ok?”

he goes quiet for a bit, sighing, “ok.”

“i miss you. i do. i don’t expect you to miss me but i just want to say it,” pausing to hiccup, “soobin helped me realize some things, saying some crap like we deserve each other.” you chuckle as you recall his words, “maybe he said it because bad people deserve bad people. maybe he said it because in our own fucked up lives, we’re the only ones who can understand each other. i did a lot of thinking and i’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t. because if we stay together, we can’t move on. we can’t grow. we can’t become good people, no matter how much we want it. that’s life. sometimes, no matter how much we want something, no matter how much we wish on stars or pray, some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“y/n, get some rest…”

“wait, i’m not done. you already can tell i’ve been drinking and to be honest i have been, for a while. i do it,” starting to choke up and sniffle, “because it helps me forget. even if it’s just for a minute that i can forget what happened, i’ll drink as much as it takes. i’ll grow out of it, eventually. i know i will, but for now… i have to do what i have to do. i’m sure you can relate.” you laugh again, getting more drowsy. you bring your legs up, hugging your knees. faintly, the sounds of heeseung’s snores play from your phone. you smile to yourself, “i wish you were here, singing me a lullaby. i don’t know when you fell asleep but goodnight. take care of yourself.”

cuddled up in his bed, heeseung hears you hang up. he lets you believe he didn’t hear what you said. he knows the reality of it all and the weight that you both are carrying. knowing that you won’t check your phone for the rest of the night, he sends you a quick text: bookstore, saturday, noon. goodnight.

as he turns off his phone to try to fall back asleep, he sees his reflection in the black screen. he sees his puffy, red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. the end of it all is coming and finally, you two are ready for it.

x. love song

seeing him in person is a good idea. clearing the air, letting it all out, getting closure. all good ideas, you hope. walking into the bookstore was a weird feeling. when you spot him sitting by the window, you quietly make your way over. he looks up at your new presence, his feet shuffling out of nervousness. you notice the glass of pear juice on the small coffee table in front of him, already half empty.

“hi,” he says like a whisper.

“hi,” you awkwardly respond. it’s unlike the two of you to not know how to start a conversation. you make your way onto the cushioned seat, letting yourself get comfortable to help ease the tension. you each avoid the other’s gaze, not knowing how to begin. you sigh and finally ask, “how have you been?”

“busy,” he says as he nods, “finally took up actual music lessons. thought it would be better to have someone who’s played piano and guitar professionally instead of trying to teach myself.”

you softly giggle, “that’s good. you’ve always loved music.”

“yeah… how about you?”

“same, busy. i got the t.a position i applied for like forever ago.”

“congrats! you still looking to become a teacher?”

“well, generally yeah. i was having my doubts before but i just fell back into it. finally being able to be there, present, and guiding others… that’s what i want.” you sit there across from him, watching him and taking it all in. the man in front of you is heeseung, but not the heeseung you knew. no, this is the better version of him. the version of him where he can focus on himself. the version of heeseung that’s glowing and happy and ready to take on the world. “so, look. there’s no easy or delicate way to put it but i think there are things we both need to get off our chests.”

“agreed. since it all happened—the fights, the breakups, the ambush interventions—we haven’t actually talked.”

“those interventions… they were silly but the guys did help me realize some things. we’re growing up. sure, i thought we had this plan of us graduating, getting married, having a family, settling down, growing old. we both wanted that type of life. sadly, it’s not what happened and we have to live with it.”

he lets out a chuckle, “heeseung and y/n: meant for each other and meant to be.”

“but not meant to last. what a bittersweet and poetic ending."

“it’s like people always say: right person, wrong time.”

“you know… you used to tell me that our love song was the soundtrack to the best life you could live.” you reach out and take his hand in yours, “i just,” pausing to take a deep breath and compose yourself, “i just want you to know… that if anything happens-”

he cuts you off with a quiet gasp, whispering your name with a shaky voice, “don’t.”

you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand, “if anything happens… if in the end, we don’t find our way back and it isn’t us, don’t think we ended on a bad note.” you drop your head as you chuckle lightly before continuing, “cause you were always on key.” you give him a small grin, trying your hardest to not make things worse by crying. “we were just playing different tunes.”

he pulls you in closer to him, placing his hands softly on your cheeks. “i always hated seeing you cry,” he says as he wipes away the tears on your face, not bothering about his own. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close for the last time. 

you stay there in his warmth, hearing him sniffle as he tries to hold back the falling tears. when you pull away, you tell him “i will always love you. maybe not in the way i thought i would but it’s still there.”

“maybe in our next life, it’ll be the right time.” with that, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, leaves the bookstore, and leaves your life. your duet that worked in perfect harmony now playing a beautiful cadence—two wandering artists, free to fill your own wretched worlds with new melodies, the bliss and tranquility of it all. the hope that maybe one day, you’ll be in each other’s lives again is enough.

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 4

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (1)

The first time Cheng Yixie understood that he likely wouldn't live for long was on the day of his fifth birthday. While other five-year-olds were still bumbling about without much concept of life and death, he had understood something in his mother's tears and his father's frowns. His fifth birthday was spent in the hospital, alongside his foolish brother Cheng Qianli. With IV drips in their arms and eating horribly bitter medicine, they stuck five candles into a lovely cake to make a wish.

Cheng Yixie looked at the candles on their cake and quietly thought, he wished he could grow up quicker, because there were still placed he wanted to see in this world.

Cheng Qianli clearly didn’t think as much as Cheng Yixie. He wore a brilliant smile in sharp contrast with the impassive Cheng Yixie sitting next to him, and all of his attention was on the sweet and spongey cake before him. Fools had an easier time than geniuses. A single sweet candy could bring a genuine smile out of him.

Cheng Yixie and Cheng Qianli were twins, but everything about them beside their faces seemed completely different.

Cheng Yixie had realized long ago that they were different from other kids. He'd even heard a doctor discuss their condition with their parents. From that discussion, a single sentence had been imprinted in his brain. Their primary doctor had said that, at the current level of medical progress, he and Cheng Qianli would not live past sixteen.

Sixteen—sixteen. Life would only just be starting. Cheng Yixie went back to their hospital room and watched his brother sit in the hospital bed, giggling at the cartoon on TV. There wasn't a single shadow in Cheng Qianli's eyes; they were as bright as the blue skies outside their window.

Cheng Qianli was a lot skinnier than he was, and his body was weaker too. Though he was almost ten, he still looked like an undernourished bean sprout. For treatment, neither of them had any hair. All over their heads and wrists were green and purple puncture marks.

Cheng Yixie came into the hospital room and Cheng Qianli looked up at him, calling out Gege in a sweet voice. That pair of adorable cat eyes were overflowing with palpable joy; he'd never bothered hiding his affection for Cheng Yixie.

"Gege." The tiny Cheng Qianli looked right and left, before carefully waving Cheng Yixie over.

Cheng Yixie went to his bedside, and Cheng Qianli indicated he should bend down. Cheng Yixie thought that Cheng Qianli had something to say to him and obeyed. But the moment he bent, a tiny piece of candy was pushed between his lips.

"Sh," Cheng Qianli said. "Don't tell nurse-jiejie. Grandma gave it to me in secret. I gave it a lick, it's super yummy."

Because they were sick, their diets were under strict control; the amount of snacks they got to eat in a year could be counted on both hands. Cheng Yixie thought, how nice would it be if they were normal children? Then Cheng Yixie could eat all the food that he wanted, and they wouldn't have to be doing such a pitiful thing.

"You're feeding me something you already ate?" was how Cheng Yixie responded to Cheng Qianli's good will. "Gross."

"You're lying," Cheng Qianli harrumphed. "You like candy too, I know it. Mean gege."

Cheng Yixie said nothing. The candy's sweetness was dispersing through his mouth, but all he could see was their future. He couldn't imagine losing this foolish brother of his; he wanted so badly to see Cheng Qianli grow up and have a life of his own.

Cheng Yixie thought surviving was just wishful thinking, until he was chosen by the doors.

The terrifying world of the doors was perhaps an awful sort of torture for many, but for Cheng Yixie, it was a blessing of mercy from the heavens.

When he entered the first door he wasn't even sixteen, and looked completely out of place in the pack of adults.

His first door was very difficult. Cheng Yixie believed that he would die inside, but his fortune was good—he met a veteran who'd passed through many doors. That veteran opened the door, and Cheng Yixie successfully left that extra-dimensional world.

After coming out from the door, Cheng Yixie's physical condition began to swiftly get better.

The doctors called it a miracle. They were getting the same medicine and the same treatments, but Cheng Yixie's body was getting better and quickly approaching normalcy, while Cheng Qianli's was getting weaker.

Cheng Yixie knew why this was happening. He tried telling this absurd yet genuine truth to his parents, but both parents thought he was joking.

In everybody else's eyes, Cheng Yixie had only sat on his bed and spaced out for a bit. He hadn't gone anywhere. Everything he said was probably just a child's imagination. How could they take the imaginary as truth?

Cheng Yixie was smart enough to know that the adults would never understand. This matter had already gone beyond explicable bounds, and he had no evidence to prove the existence of the door.

Then what about Cheng Qianli? Cheng Yixie thought. What about his little fool of a brother?

Before Cheng Yixie had an answer, he entered his second door. And in his second door, he met Obsidian leader Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu had been in a dress at the time, and called him kiddo with a smile.

Cheng Yixie only shot him a cold look, not bothering to respond. What good was any of this talk? In his first door he'd seen plenty of adults who acted all arrogant and coy one second end up dead the next.

Cheng Yixie figured the same would be true of Ruan Nanzhu. But then he discovered that Ruan Nanzhu didn't seem to be as he'd thought. Ruan Nanzhu was good. Cheng Yixie was keen enough to pick this up after observing Ruan Nanzhu's following actions.

As Ruan Nanzhu got ready to leave, he gave Cheng Yixie a way to contact him, telling Cheng Yixie that if he wanted to know more, he could get in touch.

Cheng Yixie looked at that contact point and memorized it silently.

After leaving the second door, Cheng Yixie got in touch with Ruan Nanzhu and learned about the existence of Obsidian.

"Do you want to come to Obsidian? Maybe you can live for a bit longer here," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Cheng Yixie agreed. He didn't even get his parents' permission before leaving the hospital. He flew to the city where Ruan Nanzhu lived that night.

This was actually quite the risky gamble, because Cheng Yixie couldn't be sure if Ruan Nanzhu actually had any good will toward him. He was just a helpless kid, and if Ruan Nanzhu really wanted to do something to him, he had no chance of even resisting.

But Cheng Yixie could only make the gamble, because Cheng Qianli didn't have much time left.

There was an obvious contrast now that Cheng Yixie was getting healthier. Cheng Qianli was like a plant approaching winter; life was flowing out of him at a rate visible to the naked eye.

After arriving at Obsidian, the first thing he asked upon meeting Ruan Nanzhu was, "can other people get the doors too?"

To his question, Ruan Nanzhu was silent for a while, before saying, "yes, but I'm not telling you how."

"Why not?" Cheng Yixie asked.

"Because you pay with somebody else's life," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Can you do such a thing?"

Cheng Yixie was silent.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't continue the topic, only gave him a simple introduction to the doors. He told him about the hints, about Obsidian, and about some other things. Of course, from start to finish, he never once told Cheng Yixie how to steal somebody else's door. He only warned Cheng Yixie to hide his identity inside the door, or else there would be danger.

Cheng Yixie paid close attention. As he listened, however, he kept thinking about Cheng Qianli. He was thinking that even if he did steal a door for Cheng Qianli, would Cheng Qianli be able to make it out?

The worlds inside the doors were so scary, and didn't suit the naive Cheng Qianli at all. Even if he stole the doors for Cheng Qianli like Ruan Nanzhu said, would it be just another form of torture for Cheng Qianli?

He was so small, and so scared of the dark. He was so completely different from Cheng Yixie. He was just a normal kid.

That night, Cheng Yixie sat in the garden by himself for a long, long time. It wasn't until dawn emerged over the horizon that he rubbed his dry eyes and went impassively back into the house.

What Cheng Yixie was thinking, nobody knew. Since that day on, he never once returned home, and he never once contacted Cheng Qianli.

Is it because your brother's too stupid? So you don't like him anymore? someone asked Cheng Yixie once. Cheng Yixie didn't say anything in return, just shot that person an icy look.

The reason he didn't go back and didn't contact Cheng Qianli was because he was scared. He was scared that he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he would do something out of bounds.

He didn't even dare try to think about Cheng Qianli dying. The moment he thought about it, many terrifying thoughts would surface in his mind.

Cheng Qianli was the calamity in Cheng Yixie's life that he could never escape; he knew that for this brother of his, he could cross even the lowest lines.

And when he became conscious of this, the only thing Cheng Yixie could do was reduce the influence Cheng Qianli had on him—even if the reduction process was tantamount to cutting out a part of himself by brute force.

They were twins. Twins linked by blood. A single glance, a single look, and they could understand what the other was thinking; even a thousand miles away, Cheng Yixie could feel Cheng Qianli growing gradually weaker.

Cheng Yixie thought everything would end like this. But one afternoon, he got a call from Cheng Qianli.

To this very day, Cheng Yixie could recall the weather then.

It was a drizzling spring day, and the shrubs in the yard were lush with greenery. Everything was filled with the breath of revival. And Cheng Qianli's voice came from the other end of the line, sniffling and a little bit weak. He cried, "Ge, Ge, I'm so scared—"

Cheng Yixie, "what's wrong?" He'd sensed something, and his voice couldn't help but tighten in alarm.

"I went into a door." Cheng Qianli spoke in frail stutters. "There were so many ghosts inside. I finally came out. Am I dreaming…When are you coming back…I miss you so much…" It seemed he was growing unconscious, slowly beginning to mumble nonsense.

As Cheng Yixie listened, however, he began to laugh quietly. He laughed until tears came out, and said, "don't be scared. Gege's here. Wait for Gege to come back."

Gege will protect you.

And so, Cheng Yixie understood that he'd never escape Cheng Qianli the calamity. He would use every single method at his disposal to protect Cheng Qianli's life. He would see him grow up, marry, have children. His children would have children and he would definitely live on and prosper.

Author's Note:

Here's the long-awaited twins extra!

[Extra: Shameless Couple(2)] | [Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(2)]

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Hi, ik you said you request are closed, but you said that comfort request are always welcome. Ive be stressing out lately due to Scholl work and everything, I litterly on the verge of have a panic attack and was wondering if I could request, if you haven't already, write something for atsushi ❤️, dazai,chuyya, and akutagawa comforting ready with that? Plz feel free to ignore, I don't want ya to feel the same way I do😂 love ya!

Sorry about the wait on this piece. I’m only now getting school work up-to-date (After missing 5 days T_T) and getting free time to do things. I hope that isn't too late! Hope HC’s are alright!

Comfort for panic attacks |Atsushi, Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa x reader | HC

Atsushi- 

He’s familiar with what’s happening

His own memories sometimes lead him into a similar state, so he knows what to do.

He’ll try and bring you as close to him as possible.

He’ll likely snuggle your neck and let his breaths send shivers down your spine.

He’s a huge fan of counting your breaths with your eyes closed.

He gets you to join him in the mediation in hopes it works to calm you down.

If it doesn't, he’ll go in for distracting your senses from thinking.

Either kissing you lightly on the neck

Blowing air at your ear

Or tickling you.

When you're out of the panicked state, he’ll try to get you to open up.

If you do, he’ll make sure you know he’s very clearly paying attention.

After he runs off to make you a nice cup of tea/coffee

While you're drinking, he gets a warm bubble bath ready for you.

The rest of the day, and some days after, is all him taking care of you to relieve that stress and make sure you aren't overwhelmed. 

If you ask about work, he shakes his head and tells you he has everything under control and there won’t be a pile of missed work on your hands.

Dazai-

He knows exactly what to do

He knows what to do because he’s been in your shoes before, stressed, panicking, he knows the feeling even though he hides it well.

He’ll likely grab your hand in his and run his thumb over the back softly. 

He gets all serious, which may be a bit surprising

He whispers little things to hopefully help. “It’s alright” “I love you” “can you try and breathe slowly, mhm like that, in and out.” 

He’s really careful not to say anything that could imply he’s downplaying your feelings.

When you’re calm, he’ll likely kiss your cheek softly and smile for you.

Then he asks questions. “Is there something overwhelming?” he asks, but doesn't expect an actual answer.

He’ll try to accommodate whatever it is you want.

If that’s ranting about the stress you're under, then he’ll let you.

He’ll try to lift some of that stress for you, help you in any way he can.

Chuuya-

He freaks out internally for a few moments

When he collects himself, he sits next to you and does this weird half cuddle half-hug thing.

He has his arms around you, but his head on your shoulder, so he’s cuddling while also hugging you.

It’s a weird position, but it’s calming for the both of you.

He attempts to get you to do breathing exercises, or just starts talking about things you like, and interrupts that with something to make you laugh.

When he sees you’re relaxed, he keeps the relaxed atmosphere going.

He manages to get you laughing and smiling and forgetting the stress and whatever else was making you panic.

When the moment closes, he’ll ask you subtly. “Was there anything you wanted to talk about?” If you shrug it off, he doesn't press on. 

If you tell him work is stressful or there's just too much going on in your life to handle, he's already taking away work and offering a daily routine of cuddles and dedicating time every day for relaxation to help.

This man has got money, so he buys you whatever it is you need, including several spa trips.

Akutagawa-

He has no idea what’s going on or how to help

It takes maybe a bit too long to realize you're about to have /having a panic attack.

He’ll try to comfort you, but he’s not the best at it

He taps your shoulder and mumbles things at first.

He’s not really the affectionate type, but he can be.

He might lean his head on your shoulder and try to get you to copy how he’s breathing

He’ll talk to you about things that he hopes will take your mind off whatever is causing you the pain.

Afterward, he’ll demand to know what happened.

If you refuse to answer, he’ll sigh, but shrug and continue staying with you, his head on your shoulder.

If you tell him what’s bothering you, he does try to help.

In subtle ways, like stealing away your workload and handing it off to another, or taking you to eat out.

He’ll also make plans for you to have a day without work that won’t pile up because you took the day off 

| If you want to be tagged (@ ) when i post a new work, shoot me an ask/comment |

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part IV)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: Talk doesn´t seem to be like a good attack plan and now reader has to run for their life and avoid being caught by the Jaegerists.

Words Count: 6.1k

Silence reigned in the room. Only our breaths could be heard, some agitated, others calm, as well as footsteps fading at the end of the corridor. I could feel my heart pounding hard on my chest, inwardly wishing that no one could hear it. From the distance that each one was, I doubted it was physically possible; But let's face it, in a world full of humans turned into Titans, whose possessors can regenerate their body parts, listening to the beat of a heart shouldn’t be a difficult task.

"I wanted to speak with you"

Eren's lifeless eyes weren't focused on anyone in particular, I could notice his face even darker than it had been in recent days and a look much duller. My hand on the table was very close to his, threatened with blood staining from the crimson pool that was forming on the beautiful white tablecloth.

On my left side, the little girl was shaking up and down, not looking at anyone or anything at all. She also had her hands on the table, as did everyone. I directed my gaze towards the other companions at the table, the three were reversed in a conversation that I had no intention of being part of. The only thing that interested me was to give a little security to this poor girl.

I made a little movement with my elbow and shoulder toward her, trying to get her attention, but it didn't make her turn around. I tried again, this time launching a breathless and very low 'hey', taking advantage of the voices at medium volume to lighten mine. That did work. The girl had turned her eyes to me, she was still extremely scared and it showed in her eyes and all over her face. I was very sorry to see her like this.

I gave her a slight smile, curling the tip of my lip upward, and nodded. Her gaze locked with mine for a few seconds and I could see how she was calming down, even a little, but it was there. It was a stressful situation for everyone, I didn't even want to imagine what she must feel, and if my possibilities were within bringing her some calm, I would. I made a little "s'ok" with my lips without speaking, not even whispering.

"Are you paying attention?" My gaze turned to the source of the problem again. Eren had his eyes fixed hard on my face. I thought I might have gone unnoticed, but I was wrong.

I adjusted my posture on the chair, now staring forward, but with my eyes fixed on those intense but haggard gray-green eyes. I took my gaze away from his for a second to see the girl next to me, who was again trembling with fear, and I reached my hand towards hers, returning my gaze to it’s previous position. Eren  clenched his fist at this movement and furrowed his brow even more, sending me a silent and mental warning. I ignored his threat and grabbed the girl's hand, at no point taking my eyes off his and accentuating my head up high.

"Keep your hands on the table Mikasa"

His gaze now turned to his childhood friends, standing myself alone at the side of the table, failing incredibly to calm a twelve-year-old girl. And as if there was nothing that could make the situation worse and make the moment much more stressful, they had to touch on sensitive issues, issues that were like putting a finger on the sore.

"Armin, you keep going to see Annie, do you really do it of your own free will?" Was it really necessary? There was nothing, or so it seemed, that could give any indication that Annie was about to wake up, and the fact that Armin wanted to go see her didn’t seem bad at all, or at least that’s what I thought; Indeed, it clearly showed Armin's sentimental attraction to her.

Yes, Annie was an important key to the investigation of the titans, but that was four years ago, now we were just sitting back in the chair and hoping that, by some miracle, the glass that surrounded Annie and left her in a reverie state will unfreeze. That Armin came to see her didn’t change anything in the plans of the militancy, much less the legion.

"Since you inherited the memories, a part of you is now Berthold"

Ah, that’s where the shots came from. It was difficult to understand the powers and responsibilities that came with being a titan shifter. We weren’t only talking about the short life that the owners unfortunately had to endure, but also the memories of their predecessors, memories that could haunt their current owner.

Likewise, blaming Armin for Berthold's memories wasn't going to fix things. Armin was still Armin, the sweet and calm boy, willing to fight if necessary, but always opting for the least violent solution, the most civilized one. He tried it on Annie and he tried it on Berthold, failing both times.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to blame Armin for having the memories of one of our enemies in his mind, memories that I never wish to obtain or see. As far as I knew, Grisha's memories, while they had been an impact towards the general knowledge of the world, hadn’t shaped Eren ... had they?

Nor was it fair to see how the same boy who had so supported his childhood friend in the years as a recruit, was internally unbalanced by the stubbornness of that friend. See how fear invaded his gaze and he was petrified to such putrid revelations.

"Eren ..." I tried to stop him, God, I swear I tried to stop him.

I tried to use the word my comrades wanted to use so badly, the words Armin wanted to use, but they weren't enough. In a thousandth of seconds, horrific ideas flashed through my mind, wishing none of them would come true. If the conversation went this way, it could end not just a friendship of years, but the sanity of all of us. I wasn't important in this trio, I was an add-on, and I couldn't allow Eren to continue destroying relationships and people wherever he stepped.

But I wasn't quick enough to stop him with words. When he finished defenestrating Armin, he turned his attention to Mikasa. Of all the people, the one who I was most afraid was her, the person who would collapse the most if he detached himself from her half-brother.

"You too Mikasa"

My eyes went wide as I heard the truths of the Ackerman clan. Created and genetically engineered to protect and follow orders, without conscience, without free will. Mikasa was devastated and I could see in her eyes how images of her childhood passed through her mind, images and memories that now seemed like a lie, a sham.

"In short ... a clan created to protect others who have no conscience of their own"

"Eren, stop" Armin was just as scared as I was, praying to any God who had been watching us that so much evil stop at once, that those words would stop coming out of that damn viperine tongue. Eren was vomiting word after word, without measuring the consequences, without measuring the damage it could cause to Mikasa's mind.

"In other words, slaves"

The situation was getting out of hand. Nothing we could say or do right now was going to help. The conversation that Armin wanted with all his might to take place was going overboard. If the others could be present with us, they would see clearly like me how the faith in his friend was dissipating with the seconds in the blond's gaze.

"At last I understand why I hated to see a slave who carried out all orders without question"

His eyes were filled with hatred, resentment, anger, contempt, and a thousand other degenerative feelings. His intention was very clear the moment he entered the room: to hurt; and he was succeeding.

He’d done me a lot of damage in the last year, such damage that it reached the darkest and inner corridors of my mind and it was impossible for me to move forward on a gray and dubious course, and now he was willing to continue doing more damage, this time to his closest friends, those people that I never thought, that never crossed my mind, he could destroy internally. He was annihilating their willpower and their desire to fight, and he’s doing so by colossal steps.

"Eren that's enough!" Armin and I shouted in unison. We didn’t necessary have to say a word or look at each other to know that the next words were going to be disastrous.

"Mikasa, I have always hated you"

That was the breaking point. Mikasa's eyes filled with tears and they didn't last for a second on her lids, they were already being spilled onto her cheeks. She was completely devastated and I couldn't blame her. The person who had given her a home after the brutal murder of her parents, the person to whom she was so devoted and would give her life, was turning his back on her, as well as killing sentimentally.

"You damn bastard!"

Armin jumped on the table with the intention of reaching the dark-haired man, but he didn’t get very far, being pulled from the chest to the hard wood of the furniture by Mikasa herself. And that only made the situation worse and agreed with Eren. It was as if fate was laughing at us for trying to pull the strings of our paths, strings that handled us like puppets and over which we had no control.

Mikasa let go of Armin's hand when she realized the act she just did, horrified with herself, and he now had the opportunity to pounce on Eren, throwing a punch in the middle of his face and throwing him to the floor. With that, the table flew backwards and in a reflex action, I also threw myself back, letting the chair fall to one side and avoiding any blow that the table could give me.

Unconsciously I lunged towards the girl next to me, preventing at all times that the table hit her or that some of the two men who were fighting each other to ended up bumping into her. I pushed her away from any crossing point and hid her behind my back, using my body as a shield against any impact that could shoot towards our position. Mikasa had also run to the left side of the wine cabinet, contemplating the scene before hers with complete sadness.

Eren's fist slammed into Armin's face, throwing him straight into the cabinet, knocking a few wines against his back and knocking a couple of ceramic plates to the floor. My instincts screamed I needed to help Armin, even knowing that he could regenerate in a matter of seconds, that the cuts and bruises weren't going to last long, but that wasn't why I wanted to help him.

It wasn’t the pain and physical blows that worried me, but the psychological anger and damage that this was entailing.

"Jaeger-san!"

Two followers slammed into the room, pointing their rifles directly at Armin and Mikasa's heads. They were unaware of my presence, paying more attention to the boy beaten from head to toe and the girl crying like a river.

I took a step forward and reaffirmed my theory, my presence wasn’t being recognized. I took another step, and another, and another, until I was right next to the fallen table and turned around, making sure the girl was still where I left her, that she was safe and sound. I gestured with my finger to my lips for her to be quiet and to stay still and turned to the scene in front of me. Eren kept beating poor Armin, who was unable to defend himself properly. He was right, in a hand-to-hand fight, Armin would be the worst off, even myself, but that didn't mean I couldn't manage to come out victorious.

Next to me, the chair Eren was sitting at a few seconds ago was still in the same place where he felt. With great care and tranquility, I bent down to grasp the back legs of it, without taking my eyes off Eren or the pseudo-guards who still had with their rifles at a shooting position, raised it to the height of my head and then smashed it against the two armed men in the stomach area. I hurriedly kicked each of them to the face, preventing them from having a chance to get up quickly, just as I slung the rifles from their shoulders with the same leg and pushed them away under a window. Without wasting time, I turned around to find Eren realizing the events that were happening next to him, and I wedged a blow in the middle of his face, in the same way Armin had done.

The blow hadn't been quite strong since he didn't fall to the ground, but it was enough to throw him off balance and make him leave Armin alone. The blonde fell to the floor, exhausted and sore from the multiple punchs to the face he had suffered, and I continued to give a new blow to the stomach height to the brunette in front of me. One of his knees fell to the ground, giving me the opportunity to grab his arm and twist him from behind, immobilizing him. I put my other arm over his armpit, preventing him from moving his arms and his upper body.

“That’s enought you fucking bastard. Mikasa..."

My face was on the crook of Eren's neck, preventing me from seeing clearly ahead, but my partial gaze sought out those tear-filled gray eyes to signal her to help me. My voice was already a signal for help even if I wasn't yelling. I could see how those eyes were full of conflicts, a battle was being fought inside her mind and she seemed to not be able to reason what she saw.

"MIKASA!"

This time I did yell, asking with all my will Mikasa could come to her senses, that she could help me with the lost cause Eren was now. I wasn’t going to be able to control him for much longer, I didn’t have the necessary strength and that was why I was trying to reach her. But the fear in my eyes was reflected when I saw that she wasn’t moving, that she was simply watching with tears in her eyes, eyes that would surely be cloudy and couldn’t see clearly. My fear was reflected when I saw that no one was going to be able to help me.

Eren hit his head against mine, right on the septum of my nose. My head jerked back involuntarily and my arms lost support on his. He grabbed my left hand, holding it high, much higher than my head, uncovering my stomach and his knee hitting it’s pit, not just once, but twice. His leg hit my knee, yanking it back and knocking me off what little balance I had left.

His grip on my hand released and I fell hard on my knees and hands onto the wooden floor. My stomach was spasming and I regurgitated bile, struggling to take in some air that I was deprived of in a matter of milliseconds. I coughed all I could until my stomach settled back, but I was unable to get back to my feet. I felt two pairs of hands grab my arms and I stood up abruptly, grabbing my hair even and looking up as the turquoise eyes set at my point of view.

"Why do you always have to be in the middle? Why can you never stay quiet in a corner without sticking your nose in someone else's butt? " Without my noticing, his fist slammed into my nose, hitting the septum back and most likely breaking it. My head cocked to the side and I could see drops of blood falling to the ground and a stream spreading from under my nostrils to my chin. "It was frustrating to see how in all the missions you were there, being a useless without importance"

Useless? I was the one who treated his wounds in training, tying his head when he hit the stone floor in his practice with the movement equipment. I was the one who put cold water on his ankle when he bent it while running through the lush forest on a rainy day. I was the one who pushed him to the side when he was going to hit a stone face down for not looking where he was going. I was one of those who saved him when he was captured by Reiner and Berthold. I was the one who pulled him out of the middle of an onslaught of titans when he first activated the coordinate, even with a wounded and bleeding shoulder.

I was the one who slapped him to make him stop crying inside the cave when Rod Reiss was transforming, claiming this wasn’t the time for his tantrums and that if he wanted to make a change in this whole twisted story, he better put down the crocodile tears for when he was in the quiet of his bed.

It was me who warned him of dozens of Marleyan soldiers when he shed from his titan back at Libero.

“And yet you continued to stick to me like a lap dog to the leg of it’s owner. Yet another slave. Makes me gag just looking at your face"

I turned my face to him, fixing my eyes on his, conveying all the hatred and contempt he was making me feel. I felt my heart shrink at such crude words, but my duel had started several weeks ago and they didn’t achieve the same effect as with Mikasa. What he did was get me to give him a contemptuous half smile and laugh in his face. His eyes darkened when he saw my reaction. Whether he expected it or not was no longer important to me. He gave a slight nod to the men behind me and I noticed how my arms were gathered around my back and tightened so that I couldn't move. One of them walked away from me and went straight towards Mikasa and Armin, pointing his rifle at their heads.

"Take them, the brat who killed Sasha too"

I wasn’t going to allow it.

My two comrades were pushed into the corridor outside while I glared at them waiting for my turn to go out with the man behind me. The girl was completely scared and she had walked to the door of her own will, perhaps avoiding being further hurt. The moment Eren was about to leave, I slapped my head against the man's face repeatedly until his grip weakened and I was able to move freely again. I turned to him, kneeing him in the face and stomach. When I managed to reduce him to the ground, making him roll into a ball and couldn't move without causing him pain when he breathed, I wanted to turn towards the door with the sole intention of getting the poor girl out of the conflict. My hand was halfway searching for her when Eren grabbed it and yanked me back violently, slamming me against the table.

I lost my balance for a second and as an involuntary act I grabbed the tablecloth, but that didn’t do much, making me fall to the floor in the same way. Eren lunged at me, his body falling completely on top of mine and pinning me to the ground. His legs were positioned at each place of my torso and his fist hit my face not once, not twice, but three times, noticing how the cheek bone began to burn. I lifted my knee to the side of his ribs, my nails finding the skin of his face, and pushed him toward the table, hitting his back against the hard wood and tangling with the tablecloth.

I got up to run, but his leg hit my ankle causing me to fall on my face and hands. When I wanted to turn around again I felt his weight against mine, his legs now better placed on my knees and both hands holding my neck. He squeezed, I felt like the air was beginning to thin, my vision was turning white and I could feel my face redden. I tried to hit him in the face, but I wasn't strong enough to make him stop. I reached the same hand towards my side visualizing one of the chairs thrown by the fight with Armin but Eren was faster and his knee was now pressing against my inner arm.

I was running out of air and at any moment I was going to lose consciousness. In a desperate attempt I turned my eyes around me as best I could and found a bottle of wine broken in half lying a few inches from us, though too far away for me to just reach out. My fingers couldn't even touch the surface of the glass and on my last attempt before I fainted, I pushed myself towards the bottle, grabbed it by the spout, and pulled it towards Eren's face, driving the broken surface onto his cheek and eye. 

Eren grunted in pain and released his hands from my neck, giving me a chance to push him back with both legs and barely get up to run. With cloudy vision and an incredible urge to cough thanks to the pressure on my cervicals and thyroids, I could not make out the whereabouts of the Marleyan girl and ran out the door to the corridor. As I passed the threshold slamming the door wide, rifle bullets were aimed at me, miraculously failing to hit my body. I shrunk my body as much as I could without stopping my feet and looked towards the end of the corridor, finding the second man who was with Armin and Mikasa shooting at me from behind them.

I was about to fall to the ground when Mikasa slammed her shoulder against his, causing him to stagger backward and she struggled to get the rifle out of his hands. In those few seconds of advantage, Armin stepped between the line of fire and me in case any bullets were fired and yelled from his position.

"Go!" I don’t know if it was due to lack of air that I couldn’t react at all quickly and when seeing my indecision to run to where the two of them were or go through the back window, Armin again shouted angrier and more determined "Just go!"

Behind me was a window with broken glass, I assumed due to the bullet holes of the rifle, with a simple blow with my elbow I could break a large part of the glass and jump to the side of the street, but not before giving one last look at Armin and Mikasa, who were still battling the man and Eren coming out of the room half healed and with smoke coming from his wounds.

I fell onto the cobbled street and started running towards the main avenue. My legs were on fire and my lungs were about to collapse, every step I took was a stronger pain in my throat. I wanted to stop and cough to regain normality in my breathing, but I heard behind me the footsteps of people running and yelling to stop me. They were chasing me and if I kept on foot I wasn't going to get very far. I put my fingers to my mouth and whistled as best I could, calling out to Phillip from afar. I had left my horse right at the front door of the restaurant, on the other side of the avenue, so I ran in that direction in order to find him early.

The so-called Jaegerists kept firing behind me, a bullet struck my leg and hit the stone on the ground and ricocheted to the left side against a house. Multiple bullets continued to brush my body, some passing very close to my face and others aimed directly at my legs. In the distance I could see Phillip riding towards me, getting closer and closer. When he came to my side, without stopping, I grabbed his leash and jumped on his back, leaving half my body hanging from lack of strength. I grabbed his neck and motioned for him to turn around and head straight for the avenue.

Phillip was always a fast horse, I thanked the universe for entrusting me to this horse from the first recon mission. He was always there for me, a loyal, strong and very audacious horse, banking me on every expedition and whatever madness crossed my mind to save my companions or myself. I always thanked him for his swiftness and now more than ever I was thanking him in a shaking voice as he continued galloping through the crowd, heading toward the wall’s gate.

Having left the Jaegerists at a considerable distance, I positioned myself correctly on his back, grabbing onto the leash and leaning forward to stroke his head for his great work. I gave myself the freedom to cough and clear my throat of any discomfort, but multiple blows and a firm rumbling behind us made me realize that nothing was over yet, as they were still chasing me, now with their own horses. There weren't many, maybe five or six people and a coach from what I could make out from the hollow of my shoulder, but they were armed and that was what made them dangerous.

I told Phillip to keep riding, to go even faster, to get to the gate as soon as possible. With the riding, the saddle hit my legs and crotch, annoying and hurting me at the same time, but I had to hold it and keep going; we had to get to the gate and fast, very fast. We were a few blocks away when I saw the gate in the distance, wide open and with their respective guards on either side of the threshold.

"Close the door!" I screamed as loudly as I could, feeling my vocal cords tear in the attempt and made my throat hurt even more. The guards turned their heads towards my figure, but none deigned to do what I asked them, they just stared at me stupidly.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!" I coughed as I let out such a scream hoping it was clear enough in the message. Seeing me continue to gallop towards the gate and now hearing the bullets being fired, the guards ran towards the internal mechanism and began to close it, giving me enough time to pass through it without being crushed.

The gate ended up closing when Phillip had already traveled about ten meters outside the wall, leaving the Jaegerists on the other side.

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I dipped my head into the clear water of the river. The cold of the current massaged my battered muscles and cleaned the still bleeding wounds. It was already the third time that I’d put my head in the water and I could notice how little by little the pain was dissipating, but knew that the next day I would have a remotely swollen face and a septum to treat.

We had gotten quite far from the wall, maybe forty minutes or an hour galloping, and we had stayed by the river so as not to get lost. Phillip took the time to drink plenty of water and eat some of the dry grass that surrounded the river; I owed my partner a big one and if it was necessary to spend the little savings I had on a better chair and care for him, I would give it all… but when things were calmer and we could go home.

I lay on my back on the grass into a star-shaped possition and gazed up at the clear sky except for a few fluffy clouds. If it din’t for the recurring events in the last month, I would have taken the liberty of enjoying this beautiful day and the days before that surely there were, but I was too blind and busy to notice them.

The grass felt soft except for a few small stones scattered unevenly and the small field insects that landed on my arms and face and then flew off. It was relaxing, too relaxing. The heat of the sun's rays hit my skin and gave me a comforting sensation that soaked down to my bones, generating a pleasant interior warmth and tingling; I wanted to sleep, I wanted to rest, my body was forcing me to take a break, and this place, this moment, seemed like the perfect one. I closed my eyes, wishing sleep and tranquility would come as quickly as possible, but a vibration in the floor and Phillip's screaming snapped me out of my trance.

I raised my head, surveying my surroundings, the vibrations getting stronger as if they were getting closer. I looked at Phillip and followed his line of sight, far over the horizon, there was a litter of horses galloping over the stone paths that had been built a couple of years ago between each wall. Green overcoats could be distinguished over the horizon of the clear blue sky.

"Fuck, I was hoping to be calm for a couple more hours, come on Phillip"

I got on the back of my horse for the third time that day and directed it to the opposite side of where the other horses were riding. Being in the middle of an open field, there weren’t many houses where to take refuge, even though they had built a lot of houses between both walls. A little in the distance was a lush forest of tall trees, but not as tall as those of the Forest of Giant Trees, that enormous nature of fifty and eighty meters.

We stopped right at the entrance, hoping we had distanced ourselves from the litter of horses, but when I got off Phillip to rest my legs, I saw the path we had come from, and in the distance the same horses that he had seen on the stone path were approaching. There was no longer any doubt that they were the Jaegerists.

I turned my head towards the forest, from what I could see from the entrance the trees weren’t at a considerable distance from each other and the small dirt roads were too narrow. I didn’t know this forest at all and the mere fact of entering without knowing the terrain through the narrow corridors didn’t give me much confidence. But going around it wasn’t a good option either and I would end up being visualized in a matter of seconds. We were in a dead end, in a maze, and I had to play the few cards I had cleverly. I unbuttoned the coat which was already very badly placed on my shoulders and tied it on the strap.

"Phillip I need you to keep running, go as fast as you can and as far as your legs can reach" I pulled the saddle off his back, dropping it to the ground and tried to hide it inside a nearby bush with my foot. I brought his head closer to mine, resting my forehead on his muzzle and stroking his side one last time before saying goodbye.

"Go!" I smacked him on the back and Phillip ran down the narrow forest paths. As for me, I tried to dispel the footprints the horse had left behind before sending me to run down another path and go as far as I could into the heart of the forest.

I ran, ran and ran, my legs were on the edge, branches and thorns were digging into my skin making it burn every time other scratches were created in the same place. At this fact, I was resigned to the fact my clothes were bleeding and torn, as well as the matted hair and bruises on my body. My foot made contact with a tree root and I fell between the others, right in a hole, hitting my head and shoulder in the fall. I scraped my arm too, and my shirt was now full of dirt and dry leaves; surely my hair was the same. I heard heavy footsteps near me and I rolled into a ball in the hole, hiding behind the tree and seeking its protection.

"Find them, we can't let them escape"

Six people broke up and each one ran in a different direction in search of me. For an instant, my heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched when I saw one of them pass by the side of the tree where I was. At no point did he turn towards my location so I was able to breathe again. Minutes passed until I stopped hearing nearby footsteps, I got up leaning against the bark and kept walking inward, finding myself up a steep hill down.

I let gravity guide me and my feet unconsciously ran downward, avoiding rocks and bushes along the way. As I reached the low surface of the hill I tripped over my feet, losing my balance and colliding with a small tree that was right in the middle of where I was walking. As I stood up and turned it around, I came face to face with a Jaegerist, hooded, rifle in hand.

"Hey! You- "

My reflexes acted on instinct, my leg went straight to his ribs, hitting him squarely in the side of his stomach. I grabbed the rifle with both hands and hit it with the butt on both sides of the face and discarded it to the side when blood began to come out of his mouth. My hand went straight to his head, slamming it against the tree over and over again without stopping until his body fell unconscious on the grass. The interaction lasted no more than fifteen seconds, but it felt like I was about to explode. So many blows received and produced were leaving collateral effects on my body; at any moment I would pass out.

During the three years of training I have gotten used to physical confrontation and body training that lasted more than five hours, not to mention the months we spent annihilating each Titan within the walls. Those missions that lasted all day, if not more, were nothing compared to what my body was going through right now.

I sat next to the body, trying to catch my breath and rest my eyes. I rested my head on the tree and when I opened my eyes I saw a black figure in the middle of a grove a few meters away. He didn’t carry a rifle and seemed to have no intention of running to any specific place, he simply deigned to look around him, at the ground and towards the treetops. I froze to see Eren staring down at the body.

I shrank as much as I could to the left, hiding in the middle of the bushes, body to the ground, without taking my eyes off that figure that was now heading towards the unconscious body of one of his followers. I crawled back until I found a tree wide enough to hide.

"I know you are here"

It was the only thing I heard him say. My blood ran cold and a cold sweat began to form on my forehead. I was scared, very scared, I wasn’t going to deny it, but this wasn’t the time to sit and watch how they corner me little by little until they capture me. If this was the moment, I was going to give everything to get out of here. I stood up resolutely, taking a deep breath, and showed my face to my perpetrator.

"Do you want to pick up where we left off?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List:  @aestosia  @amberciel @sof-yeager  @iwony  @curseofymir @etherealkatrina  @teenageweaseldonutcash  @mariaerdgzn  @paypay0315 @despst  @kisekinokishi  @crazymar15  @futuristiccashstatesmansalad @gis21345 @urinejaeger  @zhilon  @dianacavendishh  @lucielbinon-binary @cryingforwill  @erensneedyslut  @ryan249057   @stardustmonkey @asahinsunakinnie  @obeymekookie  @witchymermaid12  @iwishyoucouldbekissed​ @wonkyunsstuff @jeanbabygirl

[fakecrfan]

POV: You wake up in the TMA universe at the start of season 1.

You find yourself on the streets of London, cold and confused.

You try to figure out what happened and get home. You discover the place you lived no longer exists. The place you worked no longer exists.

You try to call the numbers of family, friends, anyone you knew. Baffled voices that you don’t recognize answer you, and then hang up.

As you're wandering around the streets getting increasingly terrified, you pass by the Magnus Institute. Then, everything makes sense.

You hurry in and blurt out: "I would like to make a statement"

Rosie smiles politely.

“Alright, let’s get you the proper forms then.”

She tells you that the Archivist, Jonathan Sims, will see you in a moment. As you are waiting for him, you recall what happens to people who give statements to Jonathan Sims. Unceasing bad dreams. Unrelenting panic attacks. Enough that Jess Tyrell stopped being able to go out in public.

"Ah," you think. "I will not do that then."

You leave in a hurry. Outside, you realize:

oh, I'm the only one who can stop the apocalypse now, aren't i

You shiver. That thought can wait, you think. For now you need to find... somewhere to stay. You are effectively homeless. No, not effectively. You are straight up homeless.

You pull out your wallet to pay for food. Your card is declined. You try to use cash, only to be told it’s counterfeit. Everything is just a little too much to the left of your reality for you to navigate.

Finally you find social services of some kind. They ask for your information, including your NIN. you aren't surprised when they say the info they have on file for that number is.... not you. You are disappointed though.

They help you to a homeless shelter. You sit on your cot and cry self-pityingly for a bit, and then that pressure comes back to your mind:

The world is going to end. You know the world is going to end. You're the only one who can do anything about it.

You turn over and decide that's something you can deal with in the morning.

----

The next day, you think about it again.

"That's something I can deal with when I have an apartment," is what you think then.

So that becomes your next project. Finding your footing as a displaced person. Social services helps but it's... sporadic. It takes months for you to get more stable housing.

When you lie down on the couch of the new, well, new associate you've made, you once again remember that the world is going to end. That you are the only one who can do anything about it.

"I'll think about that when I get a job"

-----

Time continues to pass. As you are trying to get on your feet, you make feeble attempts to... start something.

You go to the Magnus Institute a few times. But it's hard. You've always had terrible social anxiety,. And everyone there seems so cold. You can feel eyes on your back: staring, watching your every move. Normally that alone is enough to make you quit for the day.

A lot of times, the main cast you remember is out doing research. When they are there, you are about to walk up and speak to them when the anxiety hits you again.

What if Elias sees you talking to them? What if he kills you?

You decide to retreat for a little while, then. Just to think of a better plan.

You spend the next month getting your first job in this new world. You start a timeline of when you think the apocalypse is going to happen, but remembering the canon dates is hard. It's not a very helpful timeline, and so you give it up.

Eventually you think the best thing to do is to wait until Elias has been arrested and then talk to the others. When Elias is in prison, he can't murder you for revealing your plans.

This means Sasha and Tim will die. But--they might have died anyway, even with your intervention. Who’s to say? Anyway, you’re not the one who will kill them. It’s not your fault.

You scan the news every day for things about the Magnus Institute, particularly the head of it getting arrested.

During this time, you do a little better. You have a nice apartment now, you think. Nice by your own standards, at least. You decorate the place a little. Get some video games that you like--or well, they aren't the same ones as in your world, but close enough you think?

Months pass.

One day it hits you that maybe the papers would never actually report on Elias being arrested.

Oh shit, you think.

You go back to the Magnus Institute then. By this point, Rosie recognizes you. She grants you the same expression one grants a wayward alley cat. You ask who the current head is. You are told "Peter Lukas."

Shit.

"Can I make a statement?"

Rosie looks nervous. "Um, the Archivist is on medical leave."

"Okay can I talk to one of his assistants?"

Rosie gets this very tired look in her eyes.

"I'll... ask."

Rosie phones the archives extension

it rings

it rings

it rings

"They've all really been through it recently," Rosie tells you. "They don't--like to talk to anyone else, now."

"I have to talk to them," you say. "Um, can you--can you tell Martin Blackwood specifically that I need to talk to him? That it's about Jon?"

Martin is--you like Martin. Martin will be nice and safe. He'll be easier to talk to than Melanie at this point, or Basira. Still, Rosie looks tired again.

"I'll have a chat with him," Rosie says. "How about you go home for now, and I'll call you when I've talked to him."

"But--"

You're bad at this. You were always bad at this. You can barely sign up for anything on your own. Your mother has done so many calls and filled out so many forms for you.

You never cultivated the skill of standing in a lobby and insisting to talk to someone. Maybe you'll just irritate Rosie and she'll blacklist you if you dig in your heels now. Anyway, you're already so tired from this. You think about going home, and playing some Medal of Honour IV.

"Fine," you say.

You go home. You play the game. You sleep.

You're not giving up, you say to yourself. You're just--biding your time.

Rosie does not call you.

It pains you, but you realize you have to go back in and ask to speak to someone again. You'll go today after work, you decide.

No, wait, you're too tired from work today. You'll go tomorrow.

Maybe on the weekend.

----

You finally go back

Rosie tells you she just--hasn't been able to get a hold of Martin.

"Fine," you say. "Any of the other assistants."

Rosie actually looks a bit worried for you. "Um, they're not--they don't take well to unexpected visitors. Let me wait and chat them up about it."

You do not listen this time.

You march down into the basement level where the archives are. The door is--well. Shit. It's barricaded? You knock. You keep knocking.

"Melanie! Basira!" you say. "I have to talk!"

The door opens too quickly. You barely get a glimpse of Melanie's snarl before she strikes and your vision goes white.

She hits you a few times. No knives, just fists. You hear Basira in the backround, barking for Melanie to stand down. Once there is an opening and you can blearily see again, you run away in terror.

It's not--you didn't intend to run. You were just afraid.

----

You go home, and realize that Melanie didn't even really hit you in a super serious way. Nothing that would warrant a hospital trip, at least. Nothing that has left you with a lot of pain, outside of the immediate terror of physical violence.

You probably could have stuck it out there. You should have.

You think about all the months--no, years now--that have passed without you making any progress.

"But that’s not my fault,” you say.

"I was having a really hard time. I was homeless. I've been struggling with my mental health. I still have to keep the rent paid and feed myself."

"It's not my fault. It's not."

"I will do something. Just--I need some more time."

You sleep.

You decide to wait a bit for your bruises to heal up before going back.

When you do drag yourself back to the Institute, now there is a PTSD reaction to going into the Institute on top of the social anxiety.

You leave quickly. Rosie looks so sad for you.

You do try to go back. You do try to get back in contact with the Archives, or go back when Jon is back up. But there's always something. Not something directly stopping you. Just--

Tiredness. Work. Illness. Doctor's appointments. Panic attacks. The Archives staff being unreachable.

The world is going to end. You're the only one who can stop it.

"That's not true though," you think. "I mean, technically anyone could. I just have a little more information that could help."

"It's never one person's fault," you tell yourself as you crawl into bed after another flight of anxiety struck you as you were about to cross the street to the Institute. "It's everything. It's--a whole system. It's Jonah's fault really. If I don't--I'm not to blame."

“I’m not to blame.”

----

You are playing Medal of Honour V when your phone lights up with a notification that there was an outburst of violence at a place known as the Magnus Institute, and billionaire Peter Lukas has disappeared in the confusion.

You should get up. It’s going to happen, and happen soon. You hand twitches on the controller.

You remember a quote you saw before you ended up here, on Facebook of all things.

"Don't wonder what you'd be doing in Nazi Germany. Whatever you're doing now, is what you would have been doing then."

Because bad things were happening in the world all the time, your preachy Facebook aunt said. There is always genocide, and famine, and war. It’s not some movie fantasy from the past.

You think about that. About the horrors in your world. Those movements that you retweeted support for and occasionally donated $5 to. The protests you awkwardly passed by on your way to work.

You quietly realize what kind of person you are. What you would have been doing in Nazi Germany, or the civil rights era in the U.S., or during the catastrophes in your own world, or right now.

It's what you were always going to do.

And so you get back to Medal of Honour V.

----

You're still dreading the apocalypse of course. It won’t be easy.  It will be around six months to a year of full on torture, specifically designed to be the worst you have ever felt. Something about that soothes you. Something about knowing you are a victim too, or maybe knowing that you’ll be punished.

But--it will end, and then you'll be alright. Everything will return to normal, and you can go back to your apartment and your job and your games. It’s not all that bad.

You feel a twinge of guilt for Martin and Jon, who you could ave intervened for. You feel more than a twinge for the worlds the Entities will infect after. But--maybe it will all work out okay. Maybe the universe is a kind place. Maybe other worlds will be able to handle the fears better.

Who knows! There is always hope!

----

[When the sky turns red and the great Eye opens, when you start to hear the howls of your apartment neighbors through the wall--

Nothing happens to you. You are fine. It does not touch you.

Oh.]

[dindjarindiaries]

10 Underrated Quotes from Season 2 of The Mandalorian

As previously seen with season one, I’m here with another list of underrated quotes from The Mandalorian—this time, from season two. I’m going to highlight some of my favorite quotes from the season or quotes that stick out to me and why I think they’re noteworthy.

I don’t own any rights to content from The Mandalorian and, if you haven’t watched season two yet, potential spoilers are ahead!

1. “Pay attention when a superior addresses you.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

While this scene certainly isn’t underrated, I believe this line spoken by Valin Hess when he finally catches Din Djarin’s attention by the Imperial terminal deserves some reflection. It’s interesting to think about how responding to Hess’ first call of “Trooper” is something Djarin just... wouldn’t think to do, or is something he thought he could get away with. It seems that Mandalorians, while they value their leadership, don’t focus on hierarchical structures in their society, so Djarin isn’t used to having to obey orders like that. It’s even worse that he has to deal with this unfamiliar situation without his helmet for the first time since he was a child. It really draws our attention to how little Djarin knows about the Empire and other organizations outside of his covert.

2. “This is the Way.” (Chapter 11: The Heiress)

I think many of us can agree that the first time this statement is uttered in this episode, we’re less than pleased about it, thanks to Bo-Katan’s ridiculing tone. When it happens later on, however, there’s so much meaning packed behind the words. First, from Bo-Katan, who has witnessed Mando’s bravery firsthand and has likely realized how wrong she was making assumptions about him based off his covert and his traditions. In return, Mando’s response of the phrase is strained. Why? Well, it’s up to interpretation—but to me, I think it’s because Mando’s in awe of the idea of these Mandalorians who have already proven their abilities to him actually coming to respect him and the Way he’s known ever since he was a child. It was a great moment of reconciliation.

3. “Is he speaking? Do you... understand him?” (Chapter 13: The Jedi)

Something I love about this line in particular is the way it’s delivered. There’s such desperation concealed behind Mando’s modulator that tells us so much about what he’s been thinking while pacing the forest floor nervously. This desperation also tells us how eager he’s been to communicate with his child. Mando and Grogu have been together for a long time, now, and we know they’ve had plenty of one-sided conversations. I’m sure Mando has longed to know what Grogu’s been thinking in return, and now that he might have an opportunity to, we can really hear that sheer curiosity and desperation in his voice with this line he offers to Ahsoka.

4. “Jet back, you’re faster that way.” (Chapter 12: The Siege)

I’m sure we all have our mixed opinions about the season one Nevarro crew, but this moment in particular really strikes the depth of their friendship and companionship. Once they’ve all heard about Moff Gideon’s return and his request to get the child once again, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that Mando wouldn’t be going back for him immediately. Even though the job isn’t completely done and Greef, Cara, and Mythrol all still need a way out, they don’t even try to ask for Mando’s help. Instead, Cara insists that he gets back as fast as he can, even if that means the three of them don’t make it out themselves. I really love how that shared understanding and dedication to the child in all situations shows their deep friendship amongst the trio (and Mythrol).

5. “I’ve spent much time on Tatooine. I never saw a Mandalorian there.” (Chapter 9: The Marshal)

Mando’s response to Gor Karesh insisting that he knows of a Mandalorian on Tatooine could potentially be telling us more than we’re aware of. As far as we know, Mando’s only been to Tatooine once—and it was only for two days, tops. But here, he’s saying he’s “spent much time” there, which means it’s possible that Mando lived on Tatooine for a time while the Bounty Hunter’s Guild still operated out of there. If you think about it more, Mando knew exactly where to go for some work in Chapter 5, another hint that there’s more to Mando’s time on Tatooine than we’re aware of. The same thing could be said about his knowledge of Tusken and his friendship with the Sand People. Any time we get a potential hint of Mando’s backstory, I’m excited about it!

6. “Am I under arrest?” (Chapter 10: The Passenger)

This line comes quickly in the midst of Mando’s conversation with the New Republic pilots in Chapter 10, but I really love it. These few words say a lot about Mando’s character and how he responds to praise. He’s just been told all about his heroics in Chapter 6, when he risked his own life for Lieutenant Davan and reprimanded Mayfeld, Xi’an, and Burg—and when asked whether it was true, Mando offers no confirmation. He doesn’t even own up to his good acts. Instead, he simply acts this question, remaining the practical man we know him to be. This truly shows us the humble nature of Mando and how he tries his best to focus on the present rather than dwelling on things he’s done in the past, good or bad.

7. “... talent without training is nothing.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

On the surface, this seems like a very practical statement that many Jedi make throughout the series (see Ahsoka talking to Mando in Chapter 13 and Obi-Wan talking to Luke in Episode IV: A New Hope). When you think about it more, especially in context, you might be able to see Luke hinting at something much deeper. Luke heard Grogu’s cry for help from the Seeing Stone where it’s very possible Grogu was talking about his desire to protect his father by strengthening his abilities. Luke knows all too well what happens when you abandon training in an attempt to protect those you love—as for him, it didn’t go well. Yoda tried to warn him but he didn’t listen. Now that he’s learned his lesson, Luke can offer this wisdom to a Grogu who wants to keep his father safe. He knows that training first will then allow Grogu to protect himself and his father to his heart’s content, just as Luke was better able to protect his friends in Episode VI after he finished his training.

8. “Okay, I’m gonna protect you.” (Chapter 14: The Tragedy)

The scene in which this line is delivered is what truly establishes this episode as a tragedy. Mando’s tried three times to break through Grogu’s Force-field—not because he wasn’t thinking, but because he was so desperate—and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll only hurt himself more if he keeps trying it again and again. Mando’s voice is pretty shaky if you listen to it closely enough in these lines, reluctant to leave his child atop the mountain alone but eager to protect him somehow. We know Mando doesn’t like to feel helpless, but we can sense he feels that way in this moment. He doesn’t even know if Grogu can hear him, yet he keeps speaking to him with such fierce protectiveness and reassurance. This is a promise he doesn’t fall through with, even if Grogu does fall into the Imperials’ hands for a time.

9. “Give it to me.” (Chapter 15: The Believer)

This is the moment where we all really knew what was about to go down. What I love about this quote is that Mando says it with no remorse. He says it firmly, insisting upon doing whatever it takes to get those coordinates and get to Grogu. He’s already made up his mind. Despite the fact he gave his word earlier about not showing his face, Mando’s going to do what he has to for his son. The firm way this line is delivered proves that, especially when he shifts from taking a backseat to Mayfeld to taking charge again as he pulls the data stick right from Mayfeld’s grip. I just really love Mando’s determination in this scene, despite the circumstances.

10. “I’ll see you again. I promise.” (Chapter 16: The Rescue)

Do I particularly think this line is underrated? No, not the direct meaning of it. But when you watch Star Wars Rebels and think more about the genius of Dave Filoni, there’s a whole new layer of meaning attached to these words. For those who may not have watched the show yet (you definitely should!), Kanan and Hera are two people who care very much for each other (wink wink) who once had to exchange a goodbye very similar to Mando and Grogu. Kanan was about to go on a very dangerous mission without Hera, unsure of what would happen to him, when he delivered these words: “We’ll see each other again. I promise.” This is almost exactly what Mando says to Grogu in the face of their temporary separation. The good news is Kanan and Hera did get to see each other again—but Kanan was changed forever. Will this happen with Mando or Grogu? It’s possible. But it’s just another one of those moments that makes me yell “FILONI!” in Darth Maul style.

[chocoholicannanymous]

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVIII

This is the last part of this. Of a story that I was pretty certain I wouldn’t finish and just posted the bit I had in my scraps and snippets tag for a lark. You read that, and you liked it, and your response made me want to try and finish it. And so here we are, ~29k finished fic. 

Thank you for the support.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV, pt XVI and pt XVII.

New York is big and loud and filthy and expensive.

Kurt's first apartment had been an absolute rathole. He'd shared it with four others, and his “room” had been a repurposed coatroom. There had been just enough place for a bed and a tiny table instead of a desk. He'd only brought the most necessary in way of clothing, and with the exception of two shirts hanging from a nail in the wall he'd been forced to keep everything in a suitcase under the bed.

He'd moved out after a month, tired of never being able to keep food in the kitchen, weary of the nicks surrounding the lock on his door – he'd replaced the old one day 1, but even the best of locks only went so far – and fed up with having to carry all his valuables with him at all times.

Luckily the Warbler network had activated and Trent's older brother had offered up his guest room (and if that wasn't a sign of wealth, a student in New York with a guest room, then Kurt didn't know what was) for the rest of the year provided Kurt find someplace else to spend the night on those occasions it was needed. During the fall it'd mostly been solved by Sebastian coming to visit and the two sharing a cheap hotel room, and during the fall by Kurt spending the night at Sebastian's apartment. It had been tempting to move in with Sebastian then, but Kurt had resisted and they both agreed they'd become stronger for it.

Living together had been tough, especially since Sebastian had a lot more money available than Kurt. They'd managed to find a balance though and looking back Kurt feels proud of the work they'd put in to make it work. Three years (and counting) together and these days Kurt is willing to proclaim that Sebastian is as much of a perfect boyfriend as it's possible to be.

Yes, New York is still loud and filthy and big, but it's also full of light and laughter and love. Kurt's learned to find his way around both city and school, and he's on track for graduation with excellent prospects. Life is good.

Of course, that kind of means he's overdue for a cold shower and unfortunately it comes as cold and icy as is possible.

“Blaine. I guess I should have known you'd turn up.”

Like a bad penny, Kurt thinks. His ex-boyfriend just smiles wider at the words, clearly not picking up on the undertones.

“Yes! I'll always come back to you, Kurt. We're meant to be – you're my soulmate.”

Kurt shudders. All these years, and he still haven't gotten over his negative reaction to those words.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I have different interpretations of what those things mean. Personally I can't see how someone who walked out of my life without a word years ago could be considered my 'soulmate', but that's me.”

“That's not fair! I never wanted to leave you, but my parents made me.”

Blaine does this thing with his face that resembles what Kurt remembers of Blaine's “I've apologized, sort of, and you should forgive me now” expression and Kurt thinks that if Blaine could see himself he'd never ever do it again. It's not pretty. It kind of looks like he's about to shit his pants, frankly.

“Right. Your parents. And why, exactly, were they so determined to get you out of Lima without saying goodbye?”

Blaine flinches, and Kurt can see the realization hit him. Strange. It's as if he never even thought about the possibility that Kurt would know about the lies Blaine had told. Emotions run across Blaine's eyes and face, one after the other, and Kurt just waits without even trying to figure out what's going through his ex's mind. He's beyond caring.

“Kurt, I... I, I have a confession to make. When I got home that last night, my parents, they were waiting up for me. They made assumptions, and I, I let them.”

Blaine's face twists, and a couple of tears start falling. Kurt would be touched, really he would, except he happens to know that Blaine can cry on command.

“I know I shouldn't have, I know it was wrong, I was just so afraid! I thought they'd throw me out, and so I kept quiet and did what they wanted. I'm so sorry I did that to you.

“I love you, Kurt!”

The thing is, he can remember when those words from Blaine's lips would make him melt. That's no longer true. Now he listens to them like he would a performance, and he finds them lacking. He should have gone for soft instead of intense, a hint of tears maybe, not volume and anger.

This isn't school though, even though it very much is a performance, nor is it worth critiquing. It's not worth anything, really. Kurt sighs a little, just wanting all of it to be over and Blaine to be gone.

“Here's the thing. I understand, I guess. In your shoes I would have been worried to tell my dad the truth too. I think just about every teenager out there would be at least a little afraid to tell their parents they got drunk and stupid.

“But I also think that just about every teenager out there knows that there's some kind of middle-ground between 'I got drunk and tried to rape my boyfriend' and 'my boyfriend drugged me and tried to rape me'. Except apparently you didn't. You just went with what would get you of the hook the fastest and easiest.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Oh, it isn't? You doing what you did is okay, but me calling it what it was is unfair? Now, why am I not the least bit surprised that that's how you feel?

“You know, at first I didn't understand how you could do it. How you could say you loved me and then not just leave me, but let your parents believe that I would do something like that to you. Well, that you could let anyone think I'd do that to anyone.

“But as I said, I understand why you did it.”

A triumphant look flash up in Blaine's eyes. Oh, he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it – much better than he would have been able to as a teenager – but Kurt knows him, and he's looking for it.

“You threw me under the bus because you knew it'd be an easy out. You could have told your parents something else, anything else, but you chose the worst possible lie – one you had to have known would get me in trouble. You did it because it was easy, and it would get you of the hook – maybe even get you some sympathy instead of the punishment you deserved – and you did it because that was all you cared about. You.

“I always knew you were a bit self-involved, but I told myself it was just part of you being a performer. A healthy ego's pretty much a must, and I used to think that was it. Except it turned out you were so focused on you, and your needs and wants, that nothing else mattered. Certainly not me.

“It took me a while to accept, but I know now that regardless of what you said you didn't love me. Not really. You might have thought you did, but Blaine? Love means that the other person's just as important to you as you yourself are. And I never was that to you.”

He ignores Blaine's protests and just continues, projecting his voice to be heard over the barely restrained excuses and lies.

“The truth is that your lack of empathy and care for other people borders on Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and quite frankly I am better off for not having you remain in my life. Just don't expect me to thank you for it though.

“No one else will either. Do you realize how many people you worried with your little disappearing act? There was quite a few at Dalton who were convinced that your parents had shipped you off to conversion camp. They were counting down until your 18th birthday and from what I heard there was even the beginning of a fund to pay your way at Dalton if you escaped and were disowned.”

There's a triumphant gleam in Blaine's eyes. Clearly he's pleased about his friends being so worried about him and so ready to help him out. Kurt just wants to stomp that light out. Violently.

“Then when you didn't resurface after your birthday a few started worrying that your parents had you in a mental hospital, and there was talk of trying to stage some kind of rescue. That only lasted so long, of course.

“You see, somehow it's hard to convince anyone that their friend is practically jailed and in need of a rescue when they're seen out and about clubbing in L.A.. After all, these days everyone carries a phone, so the idea that you were unable to contact someone – anyone – and ask for help went up in flames pretty quick after that.”

Thad had been so angry that he'd made sure every single Dalton student that had ever know Blaine found out, and even the boy's most die-hard supporters had given up then and there.

They'd all understood not wanting to getting into a conflict with your family, especially when said family usually paid for college and any possible trust funds tended to be under the family's control for a while longer. What they hadn't understood was Blaine's total lack of communication. Email telling them that Blaine was okay but under orders not to contact anyone from Ohio would have gone a long way to ease worries, and was, they felt, the very least he owed them.

“Funny thing about you showing up here now? I can't help but remember that you turned 21 a couple of weeks ago. You didn't happen to get access to a trust fund then did you? Not that I actually care, but there are some old bets to settle.”

There wasn't, not really, but enough Warbler had warned Kurt about this very scenario with an added “I bet he shows up afterwards, thinking you'll take him back” for it to not quite be a lie.

Blaine splutters before launching into a long row of “explanations”, one more shitty than the other. It's obvious that he didn't expect Kurt to be angry with him, but instead to be welcomed with open arms. It's even sounding as if Blaine expected Kurt to take him back and just let him slide back into his life as if nothing had happened. Kurt isn't quite sure if Blaine intended for him to move in with Kurt and start a new life in New York, or if the idea was for Kurt to give up everything and follow Blaine back to L.A., but both options are equally ridiculous.

“Stop. Just, stop. I told you, I don't care. If you want to get in touch with any of your old friends from Dalton and McKinley and explain all of it to them, do so. But you don't need to explain anything to me. I don't want to hear it. Your window for explaining yourself to me closed years ago. It closed after you let your parents walk into a police station ready to have me charged with rape.

“Nothing you can say will ever make that okay. Nothing you say can make me forgive you.”

Kurt stops himself and takes a deep breath. There's so much he could say, so many accusations that could be made, so much hatred to be poured out.

Blaine's actions had gotten Kurt into trouble, and could have landed him in jails. They'd been what had stopped Burt Hummel from running from reelection after being asked – while nothing had come from the Andersons' accusations there had still been enough people who had known about it for it to leak and ruin a political career. After all, who cared if it was true when it made for a good weapon? And “local congressman buries son's rape charge” made for a great weapon.

Kurt had been willing to risk it, but his dad hadn't wanted to. Had it leaked the only way to prove Kurt's innocence would have been to make the video of Blaine trying to assault Kurt public. No good parent does that to their kid had been Burt's position, and Kurt had been grateful.

That didn't mean he wasn't aware of exactly how much that had cost not just his dad but the whole state. The man who'd replaced his dad had been the kind of bigot that wasn't good for anyone, not even his followers.

Kurt still blames Blaine for that, and even if he'd been insane enough to consider forgiving everything else he's never forgiving that. The chance of making Blaine understand any of that is minuscule though. The chance of him caring is even less.

There is, simply put, no point in spending even another second on trying to get through to him.

“You're not welcome here. Please leave. Goodbye Blaine.”

Once the door is closed and locked behind Blaine Kurt finally relaxes. He's closing the door on Blaine in more than one way, finally able to truly do that – because regardless of what he's hoped he's always known that one day his former boyfriend would pop up again.

“If he comes back you're filing for a restraining order.”

“He won't come back, Sebastian.”

“You don't know that. He did today, didn't he?”

It's obvious that Sebastian is coming from a place of care and worry, and Kurt feels himself soften. Blaine hasn't just been the monster under Kurt's bed during all of these years.

“Yes, he did, and no, I guess I can't really know. But honey, I really don't think he will. Blaine was reminded today that actions have consequences, and he found out I have the means to ensure said consequences. Coming after me and trying to change my mind is more work than he's ever shown himself willing to put in.

“After all, he's not the kind to stick around when the spit hits the fan.”

Luckily Sebastian is.

~ The end ~

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Six

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII, LIV, LV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Biela was in one of the cities of Assyra, helping provide some form of comfort and support to the many grieving families left without their young. The cities of her kingdom were slowly building their way back to their former glory thanks to the war ending, but there was still much, much work to be done.

And she would not rest until it was.

She was still half tempted to take her frustrations out on that angel and his foolish cousin who decided to defy nature in her lands, leaving her people to pay the consequences. But she held back, if only so they could live with what they had done.

Dacia and Caius both were with her to provide as much light and warmth in this time, something she had always lacked the ability to provide. Dacia stood by her side while combing the streets for a period of respite.

“I do hope this haunts them,” Biela said, darkly, letting Dacia link their arms together.

“I am sure it will,” Dacia replied. “Levant and Amara both.”

“Hmph.”

They let silence fall for a bit longer when she felt a tugging at her skirt. She nearly thought it was some mangy animal, but stopped moving when she realized it was a child that was clinging to her skirts, clearly trying to keep herself from tumbling to the ground.

“Who’s child is this?” Biela demanded, looking around.

Dacia was already moving to scooping her up when Biela locked eyes on a violet eyed child that had a hand half reaching for the toddler in Dacia’s arms. She nearly went after them had it not been for their bolting like a rabbit, likely to get as far away from Biela as physically possible.

Of course it ran. Biela never had much luck with children capable of forming their own opinions. They more often than not were best left silent. But for some reason, this particular toddler decided to demand her attention.

Dacia seemed to be looking the child over, checking for cuts or bruises, though she couldn’t find any. She gave Biela a look that had Biela frowning at her. “What.”

“Well, clearly she had a home.”

“Oh really?” Biela asked. “From the looks of it I’d say she was missing a few requirements for that, considering her very dirty skin on top of her very dirty clothes.”

“Well all the more reason to take her with us,” Dacia replied. “Children are dying. We cannot let another fall through the cracks.”

“I suppose,” Biela said, eyeing the child staring right back at her. She squinted.

When the child removed her hand from her mouth, as soaked with slobber as it was, she still reached out for Biela. Biela frowned in distaste. She had been soaked in blood once, but she still was not a fan of fluids from infants. “I will not take you,” Biela retorted to the baby. “But fine, we will bring her with us.”

Biela thought back to the last thing Raziel had said to her the day before. That ‘Congratulations’ stuck out in Biela’s mind and she had half a thought to go wring that old bird’s neck.

She hated seers.

---

Lev was closing the door to Eden's nursery oh so carefully when Ash found him. And by found him, Lev meant Ash smacked the side of his leg with his cane. Lev stifled a yelp, so he didn’t wake Eden, and glared at Ash. It was safe to do so because Ash couldn’t see him.

“Ow,” Lev mumbled, sidestepping another sweep of the cane. “I- can I help you?” He paused, and quickly corrected himself. “Is everything okay?”

“Hm. Pick a new tone,” Ash said, flippantly. “I want you to make yourself useful and take me to Cameron’s library.”

Lev sighed softly, and started walking. “It’s this way,” he said, just to get Ash started. “Though I don’t think he’s got any books in braille.”

“Well lucky for me I’m not going to be the one doing the reading,” Ash replied, following after him.

“Am I-” Lev bit off his questions, and instead said, “It’s up these stairs, and then we’re gonna take a left.”

Ash slowly followed after him, taking one step at a time, clearly not quite used to climbing the stairs without the morsels of eyesight he once had.

Lev quietly narrated the path he took to one of the tables he liked to frequent during the few times he’d had the time to sequester himself away in the library. It was near the very meager collection of fiction Cameron had; most everything else in here seemed to be non-fiction of all sorts.

“I’m sure there’s a system,” Ash said, side stepping the things in his way. “Knowing Cameron it’s bound to be just as elaborate as his many personalities.” At Lev’s confusion Ash sighed. “A catalogue. Something to classify the books to keep them separate by title or genre or subject or something.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah. There is. Do- do you need me to find you a book?”

“I want you to find every book in Cameron’s library about the gods,” Ash said, leaning against one of the shelves. “You’re going to actually learn something about well, something aside from whatever romance novel you are currently gurgitating.”

“Gurgitating,” Lev mumbled to himself, trying not to sound annoyed. He puffed out a breath, and then, “I’ll see if I can find a few. There’s a table next to you if you want to sit.” Though Ash might prefer to stand, so he could complain about that too.

He could feel Ash’s glare against his back. “I’m coming with you, genius,” Ash said. “How about you knock the attitude off. I can feel your passive aggressive puffiness from here.”

Lev considered that, and then decided honesty was the best policy. “I’m just a little cranky,” he said, and then added, “And so are you. I’m sorry if I’ve been snapping at you, though. Shouldn’t take crankiness out on someone else. Not their fault.”

“Duly noted,” Ash said. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to someone who cares. Now take me to the books.”

Lev led the way, gathering every book Ash told him to, up until his arms started to get tired, and then he very firmly insisted they go back to the table. “I can’t carry any more,” he said, “And I certainly can’t read all of these in one sitting. The rest aren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s fine,” Ash said, taking a few books from him to tuck under his arm. “You won’t be able to retain all of what you need to know if you do that.”

Lev sighed, loud enough for Ash to definitely hear this time, but just settled down at his table, spreading the books out. Ash took the chair across from Lev and had him pull out the first book.

“Do you want me to read out loud?” Lev asked after a moment of staring at the introduction.

“Tell me what you know about the gods,” Ash said. “The angels should have given you a rudimentary understanding of each god in school, but angelic teachings tend… to embellish a little and make Asmi seem more important than the others. Which is not to say they’re not important,” Ash added, hastily. “As they are the god to the angels, but each is important and I want to figure out how much work you’re going to need to understand.”

Lev paused, trying to dig up memories well over a century old. “I knew of Asmi,” Lev confirmed. “And they said that demons split their worship between... Five? Five gods? I think? I know demonic magic is tied to specific gods. I think. Or- there’s a choosing?”

“There is Kaveh, the oldest- twin to Asmi, who is the one who created both the other gods and the demons. Demons were pulled from the earth as angels were the stars. Kaveh’s magic is one of the most powerful, bestowed as they are the oldest god in the pantheon,” Ash said. “They rule magic such as telepathy and forms of telekinesis and other mental based magics.”

Ash took a breath. “Asmi, as Kaveh’s twin, was born at the same time. It was just them alone in the universe, right? Asmi created the angels so of course they would become the patron to all angels. As they are tied to the natural balance, all our abilities come from nature.”

“Third,” Ash said, “Is Mizra. Mizra is the seer. Knows all that is, was and all that could be. They’re known for being relatively… prickly, I guess. Just like Kaveh, but a different flavor. Next is Ruya. Ruya is the god of echos and reigns over the illusion workers. And lastly is Basim who rules over empathy based magics. Anything having to do with the emotional spectrum. Each god has access to the rawest magic, but only demons can access the designated power that each god rules over.” He paused, took another breath and leaned back. “Does any of that make sense?”

Lev blinked several times. “I...” he trailed off. “That was a lot. But.. I think so?” Even though Ash couldn’t see, Lev ticked them off on his fingers, “Kaveh is the oldest, and rules mental magics. Asmi is balance, Mizra is the Sight, Ruya is echoes and illusions. And- Um. Bas- Basim is empaths?”

“Yes,” Ash said, satisfied. “They’re each patron to a particular person they find interesting, so a person can have two gods bugging them, but only hold power for one, if that makes sense? They might just… be a little more enhanced. Kaveh: the cunning and resourceful; Asmi: the natural order and witches; Mizra: survivors; Ruya: the wild and unchained, and Basim: patron to the merciful.”

“I... I think so?” Lev said hesitantly. “Does everyone have a god who is their patron? Or only specific people?”

Ash rose a shoulder. “I think it’s just certain people that the gods have taken a liking to. I haven’t read anything about every single demon having a patron on top of their god.”

Lev nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said out loud after a moment. “I think that makes sense.” He tapped his thumb on the book, and then asked thoughtfully, “Do gods favor bloodlines? I never really paid much attention to if demons’ magic was genetic or not...”

“I do think sometimes it’s through bloodlines, unless a god has deliberately chosen the child. Their magic usually comes in around five to seven years old; just like an angel’s,” Ash said. “The gods wait to see what the child will grow into and go from there.”

“That makes sense,” Lev mumbled, more to himself than anything, and then said, “So there’s no real way to know what kind of magic Eden will have, then?”

“Not until she’s close to five, no.”

Lev gave a small hum. “Does Asmi ever choose demons?” He asked, just out of sheer curiosity.

“If they find a liking to a person, sure,” Ash said. “They’ll most likely bless that bloodline. Isn’t Sorin a demon with fire magic anyways? Also, Asmi likely is responsible for the few powerful bloodlines of demonic healers. They’re very rare, just like elemental demonic users.”

Lev gave a few blinks. “I didn’t-” He thought again. “Right. Fax’s cousin.” After another awkward pause, he added, “I forgot. Fax had fire magic too. He just so rarely used it. Mostly to light his cigarettes or the fireplace.”

Ash looked vaguely disapproving with the mention of cigarettes, but said nothing about it. “Sazra’s bloodline is most likely one blessed by Asmi. She’s one of the very few demonic healers I have met. And she’s a very strong one at that. Probably why she was in this house for so long. Demons were never very kind to their healers- always enslaved them.”

Oh. Lev looked down. “I’m guessing she wouldn’t want my pity,” he said slowly.

“Probably not,” Ash said. “But back to what I was saying. Power and magic are tied to the gods and the gods are tied to us. Sometimes even the gods walk among the people, though Asmi is somewhat trapped in their realm whereas the other gods are not.” Ash grimaced. “Instead they get to use me as their mouthpiece.”

“They’re trapped?” Lev asked, his concern getting dragged away from Sazra. “That sounds awful.”

“Less trapped and more they don’t have a physical form,” Ash admitted. “If they want company from us mere mortals they are very capable of yanking us to them.”

“Oh,” Lev said, considering that. “Do they do that often?”

“I’m not sure with other people besides me,” Ash said, “but they sure do like my company. Maybe a little too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said honestly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s fine,” Ash said. “I’ll manage.”

Lev frowned, but Ash couldn’t see. He tapped the book with his thumb. “Do the gods talk directly to their followers often? Like when... when Asmi spoke to me, before I came back? Or did they only do so because I was... partly dead.”

“I think… they were curious and infuriated. Not many people show up on the gods' radar. When they do, they take notice.”

Lev nodded. “So they don’t visit people often. And that’s true for all the gods?”

Ash lifted a shoulder. “From what I’ve seen, yeah. Maybe us mere mortals aren’t all that interesting in the grand scheme of things, though I’m sure they do find our little lives absolutely hilarious sometimes.”

“Ah,” Lev said, rubbing his face. “I suppose bastardizing nature would put me on their radar,” he sighed.

“And now we don’t have magic,” Ash said, sardonically. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Asmi soon.”

---

Cameron was seated in the chair while Darius napped. He had been working on the backed up paperwork from the last several days. He had a solid chunk of paperwork from both the club and further Obsidian Court workings when there was a feather light knock on the door.

He bit back his irritable sigh and looked up to see one of the sentries standing stiffly in the doorway. Cameron flicked Darius a look, to make sure he was still sleeping before fixing his attention on the sentry. “What do you want?”

“There’s an angel here,” they said.

“I am aware there are several angels here,” Cameron said, crossly. “Be more specific.”

“Raziel,” he rushed out. “Um, she said her name was Raziel.”

Oh brilliant. “And what does that overcooked chicken want?” Cameron said, flatly. “Lev is unable to speak with his family for the next several decades.”

“She’s here for you, sir.”

“You can tell Raziel to fly her carcass back to her roost,” Cameron said, turning his focus back to his work, dismissing the sentry to do his bidding.

Cameron had but a few moments of peace before the sentry returned, looking rather ashened. “I’m afraid she was rather insistent, sir.”

Cameron sighed sharply out of his nose and got to his feet. The sentry stiffened slightly as Cameron walked past him, ordering him to not take his eyes off Darius while Cameron dealt with the ancient angel.

“And to what do I owe this displeasure,” Cameron said, eyeing Raziel, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Mizra sent me,” Raziel said, irritatingly calm as always. “So unfortunately, I am not able to leave until I’ve passed their message along.”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I haven’t been to a temple in well over five hundred years.” In fact, he had never stepped foot inside one to begin with. “Why would they bother themselves with my presence now?”

“Both kingdoms are healing,” Raziel said. “And they’re tired of waiting for you to come to them. I’m sure if I hadn’t reached out to them for my own reasons they would have found another way to reach out to you and demand you listen.”

Cameron fixed his jaw. “We’ll speak in my office,” he said, walking past her.

Raziel followed him, staying a good three paces behind him until they reached the office. She even settled in the chair without prompting, hooking one knee over the other.

Cameron took his place behind his desk and leaned back. He eyed her for a few seconds, trying to figure the best approach to handle both Mizra and Raziel. “I have not participated in the Rite,” Cameron said, evenly. “I am not able to, so I do not have any connections with Mizra.”

Every demon born had their god and had their own coming of age where they cemented their connection to their god. Every demon, legitimate or not, was supposed to form the connections with their god in order to fully claim their abilities. Cameron never had, his mother had forbade it, so his magic was barely a whisper of anything- calling it a magic felt like too grand of a word. He had never spoken to a priestess, of any god. Cameron had no Rite to claim.

Raziel didn’t even blink. “Then complete it. Before Mizra starts meddling more personally.”

“I do not have the time,” Cameron said. “And I am now much too old. Have been for well over five hundred years.”

“Make time. Your god demands it.” She flicked her fingers at him. “Your household doesn’t need a second god looking at it with ire. Nothing I remember of the Rite says you can’t complete it later in life.” Her silver eyes tracked his every minute move. “I’m sure you’re not the only one with subpar parents.”

“I suggest you do not speak ill of my parents,” Cameron said, flippantly. “They’re my problem and they’re also dead. No need for you to make judgements that do not pertain to you. Besides, the Rite is a demonic passage. Perhaps you should keep to your own lane in that matter. I will make time, but it will have to wait.” Cameron rubbed his temples, alleviating the growing pressure. “As I said, I am busy.”

“I did not mean offense,” Raziel said mildly. “I spoke only of what Mizra told me. And on top of what they’ve said of your parents, ill or otherwise, they have insisted you speak to them.”

“What part of ‘I am busy’ seems to get lost in your decrepit mind?” Cameron snapped.

It was then that Cameron felt himself be… pulled somewhere; he and Raziel both. Cameron went very still when a very pale… being was standing in front of him. Mizra, he presumed, with their pale skin and white hair, almost a similar likeness to himself. They looked less than pleased to drag him here into their realm. “When I request you,” they said, coolly. “I do not mean to be put off for something you consider more important. There is nothing more important than I, do you understand me?”

“My apologies,” Cameron said. “I did not mean any disrespect.”

Mizra’s eyes narrowed. “There is not an ounce of respect in your frail little body, Cameron Luain.”

“Mizra,” Raziel said. “It would make pulling us here rather pointless if you lose your temper now.” And then she smiled at the god.

Mizra fixed their mouth into a thin line. “Your mother,” they said, turning back to face Cameron, “defied my wishes when she decided to keep you from me in attempt to keep you powerless.” Cold washed down Cameron’s skin. “She is now rotting in the ground and no longer an obstacle, therefore, I am very kindly requesting you have the Rite performed.”

Cameron flicked Raziel a glance before tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I suppose I will make the time,” he bit out, bowing his head slightly.

He could feel their very smug faint smile directed his way. “Very good,” they said. “It seems when I told Raziel to fix you, I had not accounted for how foolishly bullheaded you male creatures are.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Raziel interjected. “I apologize I was not able to successfully pass along your message on my own.”

Mizra frowned at her. “Yes, I do suppose you did fail in your one task, Raziel. I had expected far better from someone I had blessed.”

“I suppose I’m out of practice,” Raziel replied. “I’ll do better next time.” If Cameron didn’t know better he’d say Raziel’s silver eyes, so eerily similar to Mizra’s, crinkled with affection at the god.

“As you should,” Mizra said, primly. “Failure is unacceptable and I would so hate to find someone else to keep me company. Most of you mortals are rather boring.”

Cameron was rapidly growing all the more irritable with these too ancient beings and found the phantom pain in his head to be growing steadily behind his eye.

Mizra cut their focus to Cameron. “And while I have you here,” they said, “I expect you to start eating something. You’re too thin and disgusting. You need to eat more.”

Cameron stared blankly at the god. “You want me to eat more?” he echoed.

Why would a god care about his eating habits?

“Oh please,” Mizra huffed, “I do detest repeating myself.”

“I could always check in on him,” Raziel offered.

Cameron cut her a withering glare. The last thing he needed was Raziel to babysit him. “Last I checked,” Cameron said, “you were barred from Lev’s presence.”

Mizra waved a dismissive hand. “You make it sound like I care what your little king wants,” Mizra said. “Raziel will do my bidding and hold your hand if need be.”

Cameron felt rage boil under his skin, but promptly kept his mouth shut.

“I highly doubt I’ll need to go that far,” Raziel said, amused.

“Was there anything else you required of me,” Cameron bit out.

“Oh very well, very well,” Mizra said, “If you’re going to act like a child I will send you back. Raziel, I will speak to you soon.”

With that, Cameron felt himself be dropped into his body.

Raziel looked annoyingly unruffled. “So I’ll see you next week?” She said lightly.

Cameron got to his feet and leaned over his desk. “Get the hell out of my house right now,” he snapped. “If you are not off of my property in the next five minutes I will not be so pleasant. Get out now.”

Raziel lifted a single brow, but stood gracefully. “I’ll let you know before I come over next time,” she said on her way out. “Do not make Mizra wait much longer. They have much less patience than I.”

Cameron let the door shut behind her before he nearly collapsed in his chair. He grabbed his head, tight, hoping to alleviate the pressure building, but it did very little.

---

Nik woke from his nap, still angry and irritable. The last twenty-four hours had not done much for his temper so he had taken a nap. And that did not help either. He wandered the house and found a rather beautiful man in the bedroom, sitting up in the bed. “Well you must be Darius,” Nik said, crossly.

The man gave him a rather mild smile and nodded.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “So are you crippled and can’t talk or are you being annoying on purpose.” When Darius didn’t say anything, because of course he didn’t, Nik said, “Right, whatever. So I guess you’re Cameron’s boyfriend or something? And you were dead, so why didn’t you stay dead? Nevermind, that’s stupid. I guess if you were going to defy nature, you might as well do it for Cameron.”

Darius cocked his head and reached for a pad of paper only to scribble a ‘It’s nice to meet you, Nik.’

“Oh please,” Nik said, “I’m being a dickhead to you. You don’t need to lie to me.”

‘I’m not lying,’ Darius wrote. ‘I’m rather used to crass language when people are upset.”

“I’m being crass?” Nik demanded. “I think you being alive is rather inconvenient for me since everyone in this damned house knows who the hell you are besides me.”

‘I apologize for Cameron not telling you,’ Darius said. ‘It was all rather sudden. I do hope we can be friends, Nik.’

Nik rolled his eyes. “Do I look like someone who has friends?”

‘Ash and Amara seem rather fond of you,’ Darius observed.

Nik rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, Ash and Amara make bad choices daily, so I wouldn’t hold either of them to a high standard. Case in point: bringing people back from the dead and killing a million kids, but hey, what do I know?”

And now he’s in the line of fire.

Sympathy shone in Darius’ eyes and it took tremendous effort to not wipe that infuriating look off his face. “Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped. “I’m not Cameron and I’m sure as hell not Lev. Puppy eyes don’t work on me.”

‘Well, I’m actually a cat.’

“Oh great,” Nik said. “You’re a cat.”

Darius gave him a dry, feline smile. ‘Not a fan of cats?’

“Not this particular one.”

‘If it helps,’ Darius wrote. ‘Cameron loathes cats as well.”

“Well he clearly likes you,” Nik said, frowning. “If you claw up my clothes, I’ll cut your hair off.”

‘Well, I will make a note to leave your clothes alone,’ Darius replied.

“I think you enjoy mocking me,” Nik said. “You get to waltz in and drop into my relationship because Cameron killed you or something. I’m sure the whole thing was very traumatic.”

That was the moment Lev chose to poke his head in. His brows furrowed in his usual expression of worry, and he was quick to cross the room. Nik folded his arms as he watched Lev kiss Darius on the cheek.

Traitor.

Lev was just as quick to tuck himself into Nik’s side, however, insistently tugging at Nik’s arms until he could pull it around his shoulders. Against his will, Nik felt himself loosening as Lev scented him, a low soothing purr coming from Lev as he did.

“Is everything okay?” Lev asked.

“I mean I guess,” Nik said, crossly. “I wake up to him in my bed that I can’t even sleep in because I guess it was his bed first, or something.”

Lev nosed at Nik’s jaw lightly. “It was,” Lev said unhelpfully, and then, with irritating optimism, Lev added, “We can pick another room. Any room. I doubt Cameron will make you stay in the rooms he’s moved us to right now. And I also doubt he’d say no about much of anything when it comes to decorating your new room. Not right now, anyway. The opportunities are almost endless.”

“Whatever,” Nik said. “I have to move around my life because Cameron felt bad for killing the guy.” He glared at Darius frowning at him. “You’re not special,” he said. “Just because you’re some pretty face doesn’t mean shit. We’re all pretty faces. Don’t expect me to get in line to kiss your ass like everyone else.”

Darius blinked at him, seemingly bewildered, but he just nodded at him.

“Nikolas,” Lev chastised, but even his scolding was tempered by worry. “Darius hasn’t done anything. And I was the one that asked for him; I’m the one that told Cameron he was still there.” Lev hesitated, and then added gently, “Darius helped me while I was dead. He kept me steady, kept me sane. He deserves another chance as much as I do. More. He’s a kind person, Nik. That’s all.”

Nik sighed through his nose. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Is Cameron home or is he going to resurrect some other not-boyfriend?”

Lev shrugged. “Last I saw he was in here with Darius, so I don’t know.”

‘I think he’s in his office,’ Darius offered.

“I’m hungry,” Nik mumbled, pathetically.

“I can go get Cameron,” Lev offered, oh-so-helpfully. “With everything going on I don't think it’s a good idea for us to touch anything in his kitchen. Besides, Eden should wake up from her nap soon, and she’ll need a snack too.”

“Okay.”

---

Lev knocked on Cameron’s office door lightly, but didn’t wait to open it. The room was dark, and Lev almost assumed it was empty, but he heard a quiet, “Shut the door,” from the direction of Cameron’s desk, so he slipped inside, closing it obediently.

After letting his eyes adjust, Lev realized Cameron was bent over the desk, head in his arms. Lev chose to approach slowly, hovering his hand over Cameron’s shoulder before ultimately letting it drop back to his side instead. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“I’m fine,” Cameron said, stiffly. “Just a headache.”

Right. Lev worried his lip between his teeth. “Nik’s hungry,” he finally said. “I can make him something, if you’d like.”

“Fine,” Cameron said, dismissively. “Just clean up after yourself.”

Lev nodded, but didn’t move. “I had something else to ask,” he finally said. “If that’s okay?”

“Alright.”

“I should probably get back to training, if I can get Ash to sign off on it? Or Sazra?” Lev fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, and then grimaced. “Or- can I? I don't- it doesn’t have to be you, but- I had planned- without my magic- well, without my magic, I really am useless, aren’t I? And I don’t like feeling like I’m a vulnerability for Nik, especially when he’s pregnant.” He took a deep breath, hardened his tone. “I won’t let anything happen to my mate.”

“Probably,” Cameron agreed. “Get it okayed by Ash and Sazra and I will put it into my schedule. I’ll fit you in.”

“I- oh. Okay,” Lev said, trying not to be too enthusiastic. He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder as he started to say, “Thank you,” but his voice died a little as he realized just how thin Cameron’s shoulder was.

Cameron carefully removed Lev’s hand from his shoulder. Even in the dark Lev could see Cameron giving him a slow once over, noting how clothes that had fit perfectly a month ago were just a little loose now. Lev hadn’t paid attention before, but Cameron’s shrewd gaze made him hyper aware.

“Make sure you eat too,” was all Cameron said in the end. “And close the door behind you when you leave.”

Lev swallowed. He ran his fingers through Cameron’s hair once, just to reassure himself that he could, that they were both still there and then backed for the door. “I’ll bring you something later,” he promised. “And some painkillers.”

He made sure that the door clicked shut as quietly as he could.

---

While Cyrus flipped through one of the several books he’d lain on the bed, Sorin napped sprawled on his lap. Sorin’s surprisingly strong tail wrapped around his wrist insistently, the prehensile appendage tugging every once and a while as the demon dreamed.

Cyrus had spent the last few hours reading up on the gods. While he was certainly more educated, he felt like it was only a surface level understanding of them. Which- understandable. There was a lot, and these were gods.

Rather than continue to stare blankly at the pages, Cyrus settled more deeply into the pillows he was propped up against. Sorin huffed at him, his tail tightening briefly, but when Cyrus made no move to get up, the demon fell asleep again pretty quickly.

Once the house was quiet, Cyrus closed his eyes and tried to remember how Darius had shown him how to reach out for Asmi. It’d certainly been more ritualistic than Cyrus was able to do right now, but even attempting without the words and candles and pomp and ceremony, when Cyrus opened his eyes, he was back in the warm room, Asmi seated before him.

“Asmi,” Cyrus said, dipping into a small bow. He looked up, offering a small smile. “Will it always be that easy to reach you?”

Asmi lifted a brow. “If you were aware of your studies, you would know,” they said, amused.

Cyrus gave a shrug in acquiescence. “True,” he said, “But who better to ask my questions than you? I’ve been reading, while my mate keeps me on bedrest. Trying to understand all of it. The sheer amount of literature to wade through is... overwhelming.”

Asmi brought their tea to their lips. “I imagine getting caught up on nearly forty years of spellwork will take you some time. I’m sure you will now have plenty of time to do so without your magic distracting you.”

“Was taking my magic an opportunity to learn or a punishment?” Cyrus asked, out of sheer curiosity.

Asmi merely gave Cyrus a slight smile.

Cyrus settled in the closest chair with a bit more weight than he usually would. It seemed even in this dimension he was weaker than usual. “Some things have to remain a secret, then?” He asked, mulling it over.

“I told you there will be a price to pay,” they said. “You will pay it tenfold. I do not like to be made weakened by anyone, and this time, my point will be made.”

“I understand,” Cyrus said quietly. “I don’t take this lightly, and I will work hard to learn what I can while without magic.”

“Excellent,” Asmi said, setting their mug of tea down. “You will not regain your magic until I am satisfied.” Asmi flicked a hand, and with a ripple of magic Ash, Lev and Darius appeared in the room with them.

Ash was quick to bow deeply before standing upright wearily. “You summoned me?”

Cyrus flicked a glance at the other two; Lev was quite bewildered, though he gave an echo of Ash’s movements after a beat. Darius gave his own slow bow before quietly buckling into the chair behind him.

Cyrus thought about moving to check on him, but Lev beat him to it, fussing quietly while keeping an eye on Asmi warily. As much as he hated to admit it, he was relieved. It would have taken a lot of energy to stand. Instead he fixed Asmi with another curious stare. “I assume you have a message for all four of us?”

“You should watch your assumptions,” Asmi said. “But yes, I do and I did not feel the need to repeat myself four different times.”

“Apologies,” Cyrus murmured, before falling silent expectantly.

“Apologies noted,” Asmi said, crossing their legs. “I have spoken to Levant already, about carrying a piece of the burden should you defy the natural balance once more. You have all felt its effects. There is and will be a void where your magic was and would be, and that void shall remain until you earn the right to your magic. I demand respect from the lot of you and for you to learn a lesson.”

Ash looked a mix of rage and submission but ultimately hung his head without a word.

“How do we earn it?” Lev asked, and then immediately looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up. Cyrus grimaced in sympathy, but he’d been wondering the same thing, and so he simply looked to Asmi again. Earning it could mean a thousand things, and they were all from different places and backgrounds in life.

A serpentine smile curled on Asmi’s lips. “I am glad you ask. You will all learn everything about the gods, you will worship and devote yourselves accordingly. You will become nearly as knowledgeable and devoted as a priestess and you will not have your magic returned to you until all of you satisfy me. Not one, not three. All four of you will satisfy me or none of you will satisfy me.”

“Understood,” Cyrus said. He’d honestly expected something worse, and judging by the surprise on Lev’s face, so had the angel. Ash and Darius were harder to read, but that was just fine.

Asmi’s eyes narrowed, seemingly reading his mind. “Be glad it is not Kaveh. Would you wish to want harsher punishments, I am sure they will be more than willing to provide.”

“Of course,” Cyrus murmured. Where faint enthusiasm had grown in Lev's expression, it’d quickly become ashen, and he’d reached for Darius’ hand silently.

Darius quietly squeezed Lev's hand. “Your mercy is much appreciated,” Darius murmured, hoarsely. “We will do all that you ask.”

Lev nodded vigorously, again simply echoing the sentiment.

“I will make sure to help in any way,” Ash said. “I already have Lev reading the old books on the various gods from Cameron’s library.”

Cyrus nodded slowly. “I might reach out to you,” he said to Ash, before adding, “And Sorin can find resources for me in places I cannot go. Though it might be a few days; we’re going to be moving soon, before Biela’s mercy wanes. I won’t be welcome in demonic territory at all for the foreseeable future, if ever.”

“I can’t leave Cameron’s house,” Lev piped up nervously. “And Darius shouldn’t be moving around much yet either.”

“Well it’s not like your magic is going anywhere,” Asmi replied. “I’m sure you will figure out how to get to a temple. The lot of you are irritatingly creative.”

“Best see if Biela has any mercy left to spare,” Cyrus advised, even as he thought internally that they might not get their magic back in the next half century just from this.

“Better chance of draining the ocean with a straw,” Ash muttered.

Lev sighed softly, and looked down at Darius. “I can talk to Cameron,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

When Darius nodded tiredly, Asmi said, “If you all have nothing else interesting to say I am sending you back.” They didn’t give much room for Lev, Darius, or Ash to speak before they disappeared.

Cyrus blinked at where they had been. “Thank you,” he said, and then clarified, “For taking the time to explain. You could have left us to flounder.”

“I see no point wasting my time,” they said, dismissively. “You will likely have the most to learn, as you think you are above myself and had performed that heinous magic twice. You will find my mercy and my forgiveness is not easily won.”

Asmi waved a hand and sent Cyrus back to his body. Judging from how Sorin’s face was so close to his he could feel the demon’s whiskers tickling his face, it’d been obvious that Cyrus hadn’t been in bed with him in any way beyond physical. Sorin pressed a paw to Cyrus’ chest slowly, spreading his toes and digging his claws in. Five sharp points let Cyrus know just how pisssed Sorin was.

“Alright, alright,” Cyrus muttered. “I’ll rest.”

Sorin gave a pointed sniff, but backed off, nosing the books onto the floor before Cyrus could move them himself. He draped himself across Cyrus’ body, purring deep in his chest the moment Cyrus relaxed.

Point taken.

---

Nik found himself getting summoned to Cameron’s office. He couldn’t even come get him himself, instead he had one of his toadies come and fetch him. Nik did pause, though, when he realized Cameron’s office was pitch black. “Cameron?”

“Sit.”

“Well great to see you, too,” Nik muttered, plopping down on the chair across from him. “For what have you summoned me?”

Cameron looked up in his direction, his eyes glowing animal bright in the darkness. It was so leery; NIk kept forgetting demons could do that. “I want you to go stay with your brother,” he said.

“You’re seriously kicking me out?” Nik said. “Is it because I refused to kiss Darius’ ass?”

Cameron blinked slowly at him, clearly not aware of Nik and Darius’ previous conversation. “No,” he said, mildly. “And it’s not forever. You can come back, if you want, during the weekends or for a couple of days during the week, the choice is yours.”

“Is this because of the demon lands being poisoned?”

“Yes,” Cameron said. “And since you decided to keep the fetus, and you decided to mate with me, that makes you both my responsibility, and I’m not going to let your sentimentality cause a miscarriage or stillbirth because you wanted to be near Lev.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “So what, because you mated with me, so my dad couldn’t take me home, you now have control of me?”

“If you want to be so frank,” Cameron said, bluntly, “we can do that. Demonic customs and all of that. However, consider it me giving you the choice to come back a few days of the week. I’d rather keep you off demonic land all together if I had my way about it.”

“And you don’t?” Nik snapped.

“If I had my way about anything, your brother would be dragging you by your ear back to his house in the next thirty minutes,” Cameron said, sharply. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be back until the fetus was well past four months old when the likelihood of an infant death was not nearly so high. If you wish to act like a petulant child, do it on your own time.”

“I am not acting like a child.”

“Yes,” Cameron said, “you are. You’re throwing hissy fits when you’re not getting your way and yelling at people for things they had nothing to do with. You are actively being a selfish little twat who refuses to not do what the hell is the right thing to do because you want to stay with Lev.”

Nik stared at him in shocked outrage. “Did you seriously call me a twat?”

“Is that all you got from that,” Cameron snapped. “So help me if I have to make the choice for you, you are not coming back to this house for the next eight months, you hear me? I will have your brother tie you to a fucking tree to make my godsdamned point.”

Nik opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to form a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. “...fine,” he said. “I’ll go. I just, I didn’t want to leave either of you, especially when you can’t follow.”

“We will be fine,” Cameron said, a shade calmer. “I’m sure Lev will facetime you or knit you some baby blanket to pass the time, or whatever it is angels do for their pregnant mates. I don’t really care as long as both of you stop pissing me off.”

Any other time the idea of Lev knitting would make him wheeze. “I’m sorry,” Nik said, leaning back into the chair, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m just- I feel like I can’t get my footing lately and all of us are spinning out.”

“Well this will be a good chance for you to get grounded then, isn’t it?”

“When am I going?” he said, defeatedly.

“Nate will be here within the hour.”

----

It was dark when Eden woke. It was dark and she did not like that. No one was there to pick her up, and she didn’t like that even more. Papi had left her again. She remembered him leaving, and then Da had put her to bed instead of the pale one later that night. That was too many alterations to what was right and she did not like it.

Not one bit.

A shrill shriek bubbled in her throat, and she banged her hands on the side of her crib the moment she pulled herself up.

No one came to pick her up, which really was unfair. Eden deserved to be picked up. She screeched again, but the house was silent other than her cries.

Filled with the determination of a child wronged by the world, Eden scrabbled her way over the side of the crib. She hit the floor with a solid thud, and almost began to cry from the shock of it all. After a few minutes of sniffling, Eden was on her way again, hooking her little fingers around the door. It took a few tries, and she got it stuck on her leg more than once, but she got it open.

One of the Big Talls stared down at her, seeming as startled to see her as she was to see them. Rather than wait to see what they’d do, Eden booked it, moving as fast as she could crawl on chubby baby legs.

Behind her, the Big Tall said something loudly, and unwelcome hands grabbed her around the waist. Eden wailed a toddler war cry and bit the nearest finger with her little fangs. That seemed to work, because very quickly she found herself on the ground, even if the Big Tall still had a grip on her, and had cushioned her fall.

---

Cameron had yet to go to bed. He was sitting it the dark in Darius’ room past midnight with a small light and his book. His head snapped up when he heard Eden’s telltale screech-crying right aside a grown demon’s screaming as well.

He quietly sat down his book, ignoring the pain pulsing behind his eye and wrapping around his head and headed for the sound in question.

He found Eden on the floor, sitting and crying and smacking the sentry’s face, perhaps to get him to stop screaming. Or maybe she just felt like hitting someone.

Cameron scooped her up off the floor and peered down at the sentry’s bleeding hand and back to Eden’s sharp little fangs. “I see your venom has come in,” he sighed. He toed the sentry’s face up in his direction. “I will make sure to add this inconvenience to your paycheck. When you get a hold of yourself, take the rest of the night off.”

With that, Cameron stepped around him and took Eden down the hall. She was sniffling and mouthing at Cameron’s shoulder. He lightly pinched her leg. “Bite me and I’ll bite back,” he warned.

She seemed intent on ignoring his threat.

Cameron opened the door of the bedroom Lev was sleeping in and flicked the lights on. “Wake up,” he said, even as Lev stirred awake.

Lev propped himself up on his elbow and squinted at them. “Eden?”

“You wanted to keep the baby,” Cameron said, irritably, tracking across the room. “Take her. Be careful, though, her venom came in.”

“Oh baby,” Lev said, reaching for her. He was sitting up by now, and once Eden was safely in his lap he started rubbing her back lightly. “She can stay in my bed tonight. Maybe she had a nightmare.”

“Maybe,” Cameron agreed, tiredly. “Just don’t roll on top of her, I guess.” He started for the doorway and flicked the lights off once more, at least giving himself some relief. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Cameron made his way back to his chair, rubbing his temples on the way. Unsurprisingly Darius was sitting up, waiting for him. He patted the bed on the side Cameron had always slept on, clearly offering him the spot.

“You should be asleep.”

Darius gave him a very long look that Cameron chose to interpret as he should be as well- and then promptly dismissed it. “I have work I need to be doing.”

A small crease formed between Darius’ brows and he patted the bed more insistently.

Cameron sighed sharply. “If I get in, will you stop being a nuisance and go to sleep?” When Darius nodded, pleased, Cameron sighed once more and began undressing slowly, doing his best to not further aggravate his headache.

He crawled into the bed and put his face in the pillow, all too aware of the coolness of Darius’ skin next to his.

tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[pettyprocrastination]

can we get any sort of hc for frankie & baby bat, i love the headcanons that you have for them🥵🥵🥵

YES YES YOU CAN MY LOVE

HEHEHEHE ive been thinking about babybat and frankie literally all day i was hoping somebody would say something and you HEARD ME I LOVE YOU

It’s 12:30 am so if these are messy and bad i apologize i just got way too excited akskks. 

Some tags: @captainsamwlsn @goldafterglow @thesadvampire @cinewhore @thirstworldproblemss @justanotherblonde23 @lilkermit14 @buckysalefty @qveenbvtch @clydesducktape @themarcusmoreno if i missed anybody else who wanted to be tagged in bb content please let me know! It’s late so my brain and working as hard as she should 

Content warning: foul language, talk of insomnia and PTSD, allusions to sex, camwork, light angst(?) 

Frankie makes sure to give you honest good compliments. 

Of course he’s not gonna pretend he doesn't say the usual porn dude stuff of “I want to cum on your tits” but he’ll also make comments of how lovely your smile is and how pretty you look in the fluffy robe wrapped around your figure at the beginning of each show. 

Sometimes he’ll ask how your day was. 

These little comments feel insanely more intimate than the mountains of crude ones you get. 

The first time you do a private show for him??? Oh my god he’s so nervous

Why is he so nervous??? He shouldn't be so jittery

Little does he know you feel the same way

You haven’t been nervous for private shows since you've started doing cam work, but something about this guy made you feel giddy. It wasn't until his camera switched on that you froze in realization that oh no he’s cute. 

When it comes to actually talking? He needs to be coaxed out of his shell. Sure he can make comments in the chat of a stream saying he wants to see your perfect pussy but saying it out loud?? To your face?? Ohhh boy.  He’s a little awkward at first, as most customers are so it takes some gentle conversation before he’s able to ask you to take your shirt off. 

“Why don’t we start with names?” You untie the robe and slowly let it fall from your shoulders. “I have to call you something, sweetheart.”

In hindsight he could've given you a nickname, or a fake name. Giving a fake name definitely would've been smarter but he was just to busy staring at you and your waiting smile and he just blurted out “Francisco” without even thinking about it. 

“Francisco?” You hummed and let your eyes shut, as if imagining all the separate situations you could say his name. “I like that. Handsome name for a handsome man.”

He knows it’s a line. That you're most likely lying, just feeding him rehearsed words you give to every other man who pays for your shows. But he doesn't care. 

He wants to hear you say his name again and again and again. Moan it, scream it, say it while you give him praise and beg him to fuck you until your voice is gone. 

“Francisco?”

He’s shaken away from his mind when he looks at the camera, youre staring at him expectantly. Oh god he spaced out. How long was he like that? Did he say any of it out loud?

You seemed to notice his panic and laughed. “I know this can be a little awkward the first time. So we can take it slow.”

Your fingers curl over the hem of your shirt and slowly pull it up just enough to show him the bare skin of your chest peeking out underneath. 

“Tell me what you want Francisco.”

In your regular day to day, you work at a small bookstore. Your apartment is decked out in halloween/spooky decor year round and you have two hairless kitties, poptart and biscuit that will throw fits if you aren’t giving them attention. 

Frankie accidentally met the two rascals during a private show when you thought you had shut the door all the way. But turns out you didn't because poptart zooms across the floor and into your lap, yowling for love meanwhile biscuit goes straight for the camera, batting at it with a curious paw because?? Hello???who is this???strange man taking mother’s attention

You are mortified, topless, and holding two cats while apologizing to him because “oh my god im so so sorry they were in the other room and-” 

He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay, they're really cute actually.”

You smirk. “Was that directed towards my cats or my tits, Francisco?”

“Both actually, both are very very cute.”

You begin to share anecdotes and stories about your days over these shows and streams, until late one night you get a payment with a message from him. 

‘You don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone right now.’

Its 2 am, you don’t bother doing makeup or switching your pajamas for lingerie before turning on your camera and accepting the link, to be shown a black screen and his voice. 

“Hey, I hope i didn’t wake you. I’m sorry it’s just been a bad night and i cant sleep, i didn’t-fuck. This was a bad idea. I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay Francisco.” Your soft voice stops him as his finger hovers over the leave chat button. “I’m happy to be here with you. Is there anything I can do?”

“Talk.” He rasps, a switch is heard and light fills his camera to show you his exhausted form. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his hair is sticking up in separate directions and his eyes, looking anywhere but you, are red and puffy. 

“About?” You knew this was dangerous territory. You never messaged customers out of chats or private shows. This was not professional, this was personal, intimate. He could have reached out to anybody else, friends, family, but he chose you. Did he not have anybody else?

The notion shouldn't have made your heart swell as much as it did. Fuck this was bad.

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything.”

So you did. You talked about books and movies and dumb stories from college, frankie learned you worked at a small bookstore and had your own personal reading nook in your house. 

You learned that frankie was a pilot who loves to cook and in his words, “makes a bitchin’ chicken alfredo.”

“Yeah well-” a yawn broke through your sentence and he smiled. Somewhere through the night you had wrapped yourself up in blankets as you spoke to him. “-you’ll have to make some for me sometime frankie.”

Frankie. A name he’s been called for years now but for some reason hearing it from you was like hearing it for the first time. 

He wanted to hear you say his name again. In bed, the morning after as he made our breakfast, the day after when he took you out to dinner and walked you home and-

Oh. 

Oh no. 

This is very bad. 

Unbeknownst to him, you're having the exact same revelation.

“Goodnight frankie.”

“Goodnight Baby.”