#so if it doesn’t really resonate with you that’s a-okay. maybe just stick a pin in it and come back to it sometime later on
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Hi! Love your account! So I am a recent convert to gaylorism and I tend to align with LSK, but I cannot fit in the timeline Taylor’s sad heartfelt rendition of “I can’t stop loving you”. What’s your take on it? Where they in an off period of their relationship?
hi! happy to have you here :)
i think that in general the post-masters purchase period of 2019 (the back half of the year) was a period of mourning and sadness for many reasons for taylor. the argument could be made that she had just given up her coming out plans. her work had been sold to scooter. her mom was reported to be very sick. maybe there were other sad things that happened, but i don’t think that a kaylor breakup had to have been one of them.
i do however believe that there was a tactical value to taylor and karlie distancing themselves from one another during this period, and i do think it’s possible that they may have played into the perception of their relationship even in the eyes of the people who were in the know. i think that the songs mad woman and vigilante shit both plainly suggest that karlie was the one who got the dirt on scooter and gave it to taylor. because she was the one who still, as we saw, had access to socializing with him and his circle after the masters were bought. i know that a sort of double-agent theory probably comes off as farfetched but i really do believe that at the time taylor was not concerned with how kaylor appeared to kaylors or gaylors. rather, she was laser focused on “inconveniencing herself to prove a point” and karlie (and her relationship to karlie) was one important ally for her in these circumstances. from her perspective, in this situation, platforms like bbc radio one live lounge can be seen as an opportunity to convey a distance between her and karlie, leaving karlie in a position to more freely be around scooter and his circle without his guard being up.
and now, knowing what we know now, i think it’s pretty obvious how people should interpret the line “she had the envelope, where you think she got it from?” — maybe some people are still stuck on the top layer: where you think she got it from? yael got it from taylor! without considering the next question: where did taylor get it from?
anyway, this is sort of my personal and developing interpretation of the time period, please don’t take it to be consensus opinion, i don’t think there’s been much consensus opinion discussion about this time period with kaylors, not on tumblr at least.
finally. here are some posts i’ve written about different aspects of it! in case you’re interested:
#i can and i will#i recognize this is several layers down the onion of complexity when you’re new around these parts. i remember what that was like.#so if it doesn’t really resonate with you that’s a-okay. maybe just stick a pin in it and come back to it sometime later on
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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: R for language and smut.
Words: ~3100 words.
Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.
Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
gif credit: @benbarnxs
Part 16
You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.
As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-
“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”
Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.
***
It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.
“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”
“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”
“And Adam’s body-”
“Will be disposed of.”
“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”
“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”
With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.
“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”
His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”
“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”
“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”
He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.
He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”
You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”
Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”
“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”
“I always am around you.”
His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”
“Shut up.”
Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”
Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.
You smiled. “It is my apartment.”
He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.
Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.
Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.
You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.
An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.
You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.
“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”
“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.
Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.
Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”
He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”
“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”
“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”
You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”
“Can’t really do that.”
“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”
“I’ve had a rough week.”
You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.
”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.
“Move in with me.”
Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.
“That’s not funny, Billy.”
Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”
“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”
“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”
“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”
“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”
“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”
“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”
“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”
You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”
You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”
“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”
You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.
You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”
You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.
***
Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.
After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”
You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.
“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”
“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”
“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”
“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”
He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.
You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”
Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”
“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”
He nodded his head. “I won’t.”
“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”
“I need to kill that voice.”
You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”
“It took you that long to believe it?”
You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”
He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”
“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.
He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“
“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”
“Not once have I lectured you naked.”
He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.
A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.
He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”
The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.
Part 17
A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)
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Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it
Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech
George: See also, esteemed bastards
Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.
Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws
~~~~~~~
Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors
Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum
Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same
~~~~~~~
Foolish:When's your bedtime :)
Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods
~~~~~~
Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons
Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout
~~~~~~
Bad:You’re enough
Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~~~~~~~
Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.
~~~~~~
Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work
Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone
Bad: wait for you to get back
~~~~~~
Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in
Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch
~~~~~~
Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish
Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep
Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall
Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.
Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.
~~~~~~
Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out
~~~~~~
Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore
Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!
~~~~~~
Skeppy: Are you ok?
Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like
~~~~~~
Sam: My hands are cold
Ponk: *holds their hands*
Ponk: better?
Sam: My lips are cold too
~~~~~~
George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?
Sapnap: of course *leaves*
George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.
Dream: yeah no shit
~~~~~~
Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.
Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?
Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.
Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you
~~~~~~
Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.
Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.
~~~~~~
Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*
Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate
Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*
Skeppy: No!
~~~~~~
Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know
Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!
Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?
Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!
~~~~~~
Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you
~~~~~~
Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?
Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)
Wilbur: that’s a turtle
Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?
~~~~~~
Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it
Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended
Ranboo: No
Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.
Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
~~~~~~
Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.
~~~~~~
Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?
Bad: Sex.
Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.
Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.
Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.
Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?
Ant: Food.
Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?
Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.
Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?
Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.
Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.
Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!
~~~~~~~
Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.
~~~~~~~
Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?
Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.
~~~~~~
Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re pathetic!
Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!
Techno: You’re both losers.
~~~~~~
Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.
Skeppy: Bad, please!
Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?
~~~~~~
Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?
Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.
~~~~~~
Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.
~~~~~~
Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.
Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!
Bad: LANGUAGE!!
~~~~~~
Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.
Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!
Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*
Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!
~~~~~~
Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.
Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.
~~~~~~
Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.
Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.
Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*
~~~~~~
Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*
Puffy: Where did you get that?.
Bad: My pocket.
Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?
Bad: Skills.
~~~~~~
Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.
Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-
Quackity: Spiders?
Bad: Spiders it is then.
Quackity: No, that wasn’t-
*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…
~~~~~~
Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.
Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.
Punz : Break her bed not her heart.
Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.
Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.
Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.
~~~~~~~
Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!
Tommy: Bet you I can!
Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
~~~~~~~
Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?
Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!
Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.
Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
~~~~~~~~
Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!
Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!
~~~~~~~~
Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.
Pummel party Squad: …
Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.
~~~~~~~~
Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?
~~~~~~~
Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?
Phil:
Phil: Why are you eating dirt?
Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.
~~~~~~~
Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.
Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.
Tubbo: You don’t even know.
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?
Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!
Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!
Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.
Skeppy: WAIT NO!
~~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?
Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.
~~~~~~~
Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.
Bad: Good, because I hate you
~~~~~~~
Bad: Are you a painting?
Skeppy: What-?
Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.
Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-
~~~~~~
Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?
Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”
Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.
Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-
Tommy: I earned this, back off!
~~~~~~
Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-
George: Finally! You’re proposing!
Dream: How’d you know?
George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
George: I even picked it up once
~~~~~~~~
*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*
Bad: Aw. :(
Skeppy: You know what they say.
Bad: Please don’t-
Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*
Bad: Frick-
~~~~~~~~
let me know if ya’ll want more <3
#dream smp#incorrect quotes#mcyt incorrect quotes#pummel party saturday#gumi my beloved#skephalo#badboyhalo#skeppy#dnf#dream team#georgenotfound#sapnap#quackity#karl jacobs#ant and velvet#happy duo incorrect quotes#captain puffy#purpled and foolish have an interaction#dsmp tommy#sbi#dsmp techno#philza#very gay undertones in this#beeduo#tubbo my beloved#ranboo my beloved#also a smidge of ponk and sam
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The Dark Team (part 6)
<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>
Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87)
“What did you fuck up?”, you heard Loki’s sharp whisper through the earbud, while you frantically searched through papers and papers and some more papers.
“I didn’t fuck up. I have the guy. I have information”, cleared Bucky. “Hey, DON’T MOVE”, he shouted at the kidnapped, cocking his gun. He cleared his throat before talking again. “Good and bad news”.
“Must be Christmas”, you said.
“No, Christmas is when you only have good news”, said Bucky.
“Not in my family. Generally, there was only bad news and food. Food was the good news”.
“I love how professional and focused on the mission you two are. Stark would be so proud”.
“Wait, I’m invested now. Tell me more about your family, y/n”.
“For the Norns, I don’t have much time. The information, Barnes”. You could hear Loki's footsteps resonate. According to plan, he should've been walking through a hall full of burocrats, so he was right; he did not have much time.
“Okay, so, I know who has the stick”.
“Good”.
“He’s dead”.
“Not so good”.
“Not really, no”.
“What do we do now?”.
An alarm on the building had set off and every door locked down, with a man on a speaker announcing the disappearance of an important object followed by an awfully accurate description of the three of you.
“We run, that’s what we do now”.
You didn’t have to say more. Bucky threw himself off the window before it finished closing. You looked around desperately, trying to find a way to free yourself from that office. Two security guards entered the room screaming for you to get on the floor, and instead you made an unstable wall with the desk and chairs, avoiding getting shot and giving you enough time to figure out some sort of weapon to take them down.
The watch was already used, the knives were useless if they had guns, you didn’t have a gun yourself (silly you), and the parachute was apparently not working anymore, so you couldn’t jump off the window like your teammates. Damn.
“By any chance”, you whispered through your microphone “could you tele…”, but Loki gave you no time to finish the sentence and teleported himself to the office, still in the shape of a security guard.
“My dearest friend”, he said to one of the shooters, opening his arms welcomingly, “how’s the family?”.
“What the fuck, Robert?” asked angrily one of the real guards. “How did you…”.
Loki kicked off his gun and touched his head with a halo of green lights, making him fall unconscious to the floor. He looked up and down at the second security guard and formed half a smile.
“And what about your wife? Is she well?”.
“You ain’t Robert, ain’t ya?”.
“Mmh, nah”.
You grabbed the second security guard from behind and made him trip, immobilizing his arms and legs, and held his own gun to his head. Loki watched you amused, and then transformed back into himself.
“Oh, there you are”, you greeted him. “Did Buck say anything about the walking dead?”.
“The… what?”.
“The man with the stick. If he’s dead, who activated the alarm? Someone has to have it”.
“He didn’t say anything else. Can’t you track it down?”.
“If I could, why would we have done all of this for?”.
“Point made”.
“I need to get back to our room, take some things off the checklist before going all in for a new plan”.
“Alri…”, he started saying, but his gaze fell back on the immobilized guard you were holding down. “What are you planning on doing with him? He saw our faces”.
“If you let me live I won’t talk about this at all”, he pleaded, face squished against the floor. “I have kids, please”.
“He’s lying, he has no kids”, he said with a neutral face, and you looked at him trying to tell him to communicate telepathically. Surprisingly, he understood. “What?”.
“I’m not killing him, what do we do?”.
“Just kill him, what’s all the fuss about?”. You looked at him horrorized and he rolled his eyes “alright, just threaten him enough”.
You let him go, still pointing the gun at him, and gestured to the door so he could leave. When he reached for the door knob, you shot twice at the wall, mere inches from his head, and he froze in place.
“Talk and I’ll find you”, you threatened.
“I won't say a word, I promise”.
You looked at Loki and he nodded, letting you know the man was telling the truth. You kept your eyes fixed on him while he ran away, terrified. Must be new, you thought. Loki grabbed your waist.
“What the Hell are you doing?”, you pushed him away.
“Teleporting us, as you asked”.
“You have to grab me to do that?”.
“I don’t have to. It’s so you get stability”.
“Oh. Give me a big bear hug, then. No, better, let’s cuddle” you spat with sarcasm. He sighed annoyed, massaging his temples.
“Fine. I’m not even touching you”.
As he teleported both of you, you felt your whole body tear its own cells apart and dissolve, and then regenerate them. Your head spinned like it never has, and something hit your head; but you weren’t sure if it was the floor, a wall or the roof, for your sense directions were nowhere to be found. You took a few seconds to compose yourself before opening your eyes once everything stopped moving. When you finally managed to realize where your head even was, your eyes met with Loki’s, who was holding back a smirk with his arms crossed.
“Reconsidering that cuddle next time, are you?”.
“That was… hilarious. Such a shame I missed the previous part to give me context, though”, said Bucky from the counter of the hotel room, munching on some chips. “Look, the tiny fridge had these. You were right, they’re actually great”.
“Yeah. Grab whatever, they’re on Stark’s”, you said, still with your head a bit fuzzed. Loki offered his hand to help you get up but you did it yourself. He sighed.
“How do you fit your clothes with that huge ego of yours?”.
“I don’t, I walk around naked”, you answered, opening the nearest laptop and starting to work on the checklist.
That night was like the last one. Dark, silent and with your head full on the work. Bucky was barely snoring, and Loki was sitting on his bed reading a book. Every once in a while you glanced up your work to look at how painfully beautiful he was. You hated every thought about it, of course, but you couldn’t deny his sight grew on you a bit. He was an asshole, of course. A parasite on your head. An inconvenience. A distraction, sometimes. But the warm light of the bed lamp and the shadows it formed on half of his face enhanced his features, almost like a sculpture, a piece of art.
While you thought of that you checked on his expressions, making sure he wasn’t listening to your highly embarrassing thoughts.
After a few hours, Bucky had already woken up and you were still spread on the floor, surrounded by the files and laptops from before. The light conversation had caught half the attention of the God, who was still reading peacefully. He seemed so calm you wondered what kept him up anyways.
“You think he still has it on him?”, asked Bucky, changing his shirt.
“I think it’s a possibility. I’m tracking his body down. Should be in the morgue by now, maybe they haven’t taken off his clothes yet. But if not, the security cameras would have recorded who took it from the body”.
“Groovy”.
"Oh my God, James".
"What?".
"What does groovy even mean?".
"You know... it's like saying cool beans".
"Coo... alright".
After a while, you collected all the data you needed for tomorrow. You were so exhausted your eyes were getting dry and blurry. Loki was still reading in that same place, not even fazed by the amount of hours that had happened. You got up to clean the dishes from the last meal, and he lifted his gaze up from the book.
“Wait”, he stopped you. With a wrist movement, the dishes got as clean as they could get and arranged on the shelf. You chuckled.
“I wish I had that ability”.
“Are you going to sleep now?”.
“A few hours”.
“Sleep here”, he said from his bed. You looked at Bucky’s; he fell asleep back again.
“You haven’t slept yet. I don’t want to occupy your bed”.
“I won’t, don’t worry”, you nodded, kind of worried he might pass out of tiredness in the middle of the mission. Why the hell was he not sleeping? “If it doesn’t bother you, I’d rather finish this book on here too”.
“I think there’s enough space”.
He moved and gave you space for half of the tiny bed, and you laid by his side with your arms crossed and a leg on top of the other. He went back to his book, and even though he was sitting and your sight couldn’t reach the pages, you were sure it was in Old Norse.
“What are you reading?”.
He didn’t answer right away. Doubtfully as in to share it with you or not, he then proceeded.
“Hamlet. It’s a translation in Old Norse from an author I adore. I’d say it’s an even better version than Shakespeare’s”.
You felt yourself about to smile. You tried not to, but you probably did. That was your favourite piece of literature of all times. You wondered how could that have gotten to Asgardian hands, and why would he (certainly a Midgardian hater) want to read Earth’s literature. You were so curious in that version. Was it really that good, that would be better than Shakespeare himself? Sadly, you didn’t even know how to say hello in that language.
“Do you like it so far?”.
“I’m re-reading it. Brings good memories”, he said with a subtle smile he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But you did. Something in your chest warmed up a bit and you shook it off. No, no. Not feelings. Don’t confuse your physical attraction, don’t feed your touch starved soul. No. You had to repeat to yourself a couple of times. You were just very, very tired.
“Brings good memories to me too. I love this book”. You figured it was alright to open up a little. The situation was relaxed enough. He wasn’t snarky or avoidant. He looked… melancholic. Sad, even. Like a facet of himself he didn’t allow everyone to see.
You connected with that. Maybe you could even relate to him in some way. For years, you had a feeling of something not adding up quite right. A longing for something you couldn’t exactly pin up. Melancholy for a blank space.
But there you were, barely knew him for three days yet felt close enough. Not too much. Just a feeling. Just the traces of something that maybe happened in another life. But in this one, you would get the mission done and leave. So don’t get attached, you ordered yourself.
“It’s a really good version”.
“Wish I could read it but I don’t know Old Norse”, you said slower than you intended. Loki chuckled at your tiredness. Maybe you could push your curiosity a little further. What was the damage? That he could just say ‘piss off’ or something like that? “What good memories does it bring to you?”.
He sighed and muttered almost to himself “I used to read it to my beloved”.
You almost gasped, surprised he actually answered you. You didn’t ask for more. It was already a lot he had just trusted you with. He told you he had a beloved. You didn’t even know he had a lover, but of course he had. He was nearly a thousand years old; why wouldn’t he? Did he lose that lover, in past tense?
Curiosity grew bigger on you, but fear pushed you aback. But the questions floated around in your head as a lullaby. Your head started to weigh a little more on the pillow and everything happened slightly slower. Loki closed the book and left it resting on his lap. He whispered “I feel you have questions”, and you denied it with your head. Your eyelids fell heavier than before.
“I’m mmnmnnhnm”, you managed to sort of say before getting knocked down by sleep. You heard his laughter, but nothing more after that.
#loki#loki of asgard#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#loki x reader#loki mcu#loki x gender neutral reader#loki x y/n#bucky barnes is an old man omg
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So I forgot I still didn’t post here my modest pre-slash Kakagai fic where Kakashi has nose/smell sensibility and get overwhelmed when his mask is destroyed (Thankfully Gai is here to save the day.) So here it is :D
Title : Scarf
Author : JackB
Resume : Kakashi is owerwhelmed during a fight when his mask is reduced to shred. Or how Gai ended up not wearing a scarf anymore. / pre-slash Kakagai
Read on AO3
Kakashi barely avoid the explosive tag thrown his way. He shield the fire from his face a bit late and the explosion resonates in his ears as he flees a few trees away. He can barely hear what his teammates tell him with the buzzing in his ears but he gets the idea anyway. They desperately need to put some distance between them and the Amegakure shinobi who pursue them. Technically they’re finished here, they have the scrolls, all they have to do is retrieve them to Konoha. But there’s no way they can keep fleeing that fast for much longer. It’s a sprint and they’re already drained from the numerous fight they had, while the opponents on their tails are fresh. The situation is close to being desperate. This last squad came ten minutes after the last they took care of and more are on their way, the longer they stay in one place the shorter their advance become. One of his teammates already ran out of chakra, himself is near the end of his reserve too, they won’t be able to take on one more squad, two at best. So as long as the fight can be escaped, they will escape it.
Kakashi rub his forehead, trying to dissipate the sprinkling burning sensation of the last explosion. He is not burned, but it was close. Just as he thinks that he avoids another explosion and almost fall due to the breath. He wrinkles his nose, and shake his head. Something is wrong and it’s when he reaches for his face that he notice it.
My mask..
He becomes aware of the news sensations on his face. The chill wind, not quite bitting but not quite gentle on his cheeks and the droplet of rain that fall from the trees’ leaves on his lips. His mask is pretty much gone, a thread is barely holding on his nose but the sensitive area is not protected anymore. He guesses he is grateful for the rain, drowning the ambient sense to let the smell of petrichor take the ascendant over anything else. It’s too much for his nose to take, but still better than if he was assailed fully by the chaotic olfactive diversity of the forest. He will have to do with it, it’s not like he has any choice right now anyway.
He avoids a few shuriken and another explosive note with the same vivacity a prey avoid the teeth of a predator. They are too slow, the fight is imminent. The smells keep coming at him, aggressive and relentless, it’s an attack to his senses and cohesion. He barely dodge another explosive tag thrown his way. He’s getting sloppy. But it’s just too easy to be distracted with everything there’s around. How can he be expected to keep his attention when the whole forest calls for his attention ? He’s overwhelmed and unfortunately putting his arm against his nose make him slower. He throws a glare at the captain of the mission, they know they will have to fight soon the enemies are almost on them. But with just a nod the decision is taken, they continue. They have to.
They continue until they can’t. One of his teammates stumbles on a branch after avoiding a shuriken, his groan make them stop. Kakashi dodge a few hits and steps back again and again. He tries to throw one of the few shuriken he has left but miss pathetically. It’s just too difficult to focus when an abundance of scent comes to distract you. He can’t just focus on one scent, it’s not like closing his eyes or isolating a peculiar noise. He can’t focus on a smell if they are not filtered by the mask first. His whole perception gets mumbled and there is no way he can properly fight like that.
He tries though, even if it’s just avoiding the enemy right now. Maybe he can get a pattern he could work with or an opening, but his enemy is getting impatient and a bit too pushy. It would definitely be easier if he didn’t have to hold his arm against his face.
He gets pushed back until he can’t really do so anymore. He can’t keep shielding his nose anymore or else he will die. He brace himself for the flow of smell that will take him and prepare to attack as the enemy rush on him.
In the chaos of scent he notices something familiar, he doesn’t have the time to put a name on it than a green figure stumble in front of him. Next thing he hears is the skull of the shinobi attacking him breaking against the tree he is on.
Gai.
It’s easy to forget how Gai’s brute force can be so deadly, one kick and their enemy fall limp on the floor. Crushed like nothing with only a small blood stream to stain Gai’s jumpsuit. He land beside him with a big smile.
“Kakashi, are you okay ?”
He gives a small nod. Beside them it’s still fighting, Gai’s team came in reinforcement, they will soon join them, but Kakashi takes his breath back first. They’ve been sprinting a lot.
“Your mask ?” Gai notice. “Destroyed during the fight.” He mumbles against his sleeve.
Gai grab his arm and push it down, he resists at first. Just a bit.
“It’s fine, I won’t remember your face anyway, you know that.”
It’s not quite the problem, Kakashi want to tell. But he does let go without much resistance and turn away, wrinkling his nose. Too much ! Always too much. He’s quick to shield his face back in his own clothes.
“You can’t fight like this.”
Kakashi turn back to look at him as Gai is removing his red scarf and hand it to him. Kakashi doesn’t take it.
“It stink of you.” He groans. “Yes, well at least it will help you focus, you can’t fight if your sense is overwhelmed by everything.”
He has a point.
He still doesn’t take it, but to be fair he is not sure to have the choice. Gai take the decision for him anyway. Pushing his arm down one more time. “Here let me.”
He’s quick to wrap the clothes around Kakashi’s lower face and tie it firmly behind. They’re close and he can feel Gai heat radiate on his own cool skin. There’s something calming Kakashi cannot quite pin point exactly.
Once set on his face Kakashi touch the clothes. Technically the scarf is not as good as the masks he wears, the tissue is a bit thick and in another context wouldn’t shield that much the ambient scent as the material is not as efficient as the one his mask is made of. But the tissue scent is strong and it does make a good job hiding the other scent around.
It smell like Gai, sweat and blood. And Kakashi find himself not minding it as much as he thought he would.
“Attention Kakashi !” He nudge at him and they both jump away to avoid an attack. Gai is quick to be back on the enemy, a new squad from Amegakure caught up to them, but they are outnumbered this time thanks to Konoha reinforcement.
Kakashi wait for an opening to attack. His chakra reserve is way too low to waste any. So he follows Gai close as he fights off and wait for the right opportunity to strike.
Once they are done taking care of the enemy they all retreat back, the objective is still the same, getting those scrolls back to Konoha. If the enemy catch up to them again, Kakashi’s team is to keep going, complete the mission, while Gai’s is to hold the enemy back. When it ultimately does happen, Kakashi keep his eyes on the green figure until it disappeared behind the tree.
He is not worried. He reaches for the red scarf on his face, pressing it closer. It smell likes Gai, and there is something comforting about it.
___________
Back to his apartment Kakashi is quick to undress. He needs a shower and then to sleep. Safe in his room, he unfolds the scarf and lazily throw it on his bed. Same bed he crashes on later that night.
___________
“Your friend’s here.” Pakkun inform his summoner as he passes the door. They’ve been returning from the training ground with groceries. He finds it odd because Kakashi already smelled like Gai when he was summoned, he assumed they already saw each other that day, why would Gai need to stick around more ? A danger imminent ? A sad new to tell ? “Who ? Oh.. Gai.” He calls as he notice the smell.
He walks inside, not really enthusiasts for a challenge right now. Gai doesn’t answer though. He leaves the bag full of food on the floor and go to look for his friend.
“Gai ?” He expects him to jump out of nowhere at any moment, but nothing comes. “He is not here, the smell comes from that.” Pakkun says, pointing to the scarf still lying on Kakashi’s bed. “Oh.. Yes.” Pakkun give him a stare so he elaborate. “My mask got torn apart during a fight, Gai gave me his scarf for a ‘better than nothing’ replacement.”
Pakkun grunt, he had met this ninja a few times. Great personality Pakkun think, even if he is a bit too lively to gain his full appreciation. But he doesn’t have enough claws to count all the time he smelled Gai on his summoner, there is a correlation between how strong the smell is and how he feels Kakashi happier. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
“I will give it back to him when I see him next time.” Pakkun hum absently in agreement.
___________
Pakkun can tell for a fact that years later, the scarf still rest into Kakashi’s home.
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Question, if I may. Where does Gavin and Amanda play into the Mafia AU? And, if I may once more, my I suggest Gavin be the shitty janitor/gym teacher that constantly flirts with Ona. Can't take no for a fucking answer.... But, then Richard and Connor catch him.....
I honestly don’t know what to do about them. I had an initial idea for Amanda to be their foster mother until they were adopted by Hank. She was strict and not very maternal, but she would never harm them.
As for Gavin, I thought about him being that police officer who came to bother Ona for dirty secrets about the brothers, but after @tinmiss1939‘s idea of that asshole being FBI Agent Perkins, I don’t think I’m gonna go for that.
But Gavin as the gym teacher who can’t take no for an answer and constantly flirts with Ona? Oh my god yes. Just imagine:
“Morning sweetcheeks” greeted Gavin the second Ona came into the teacher’s lounge, winking.
Ona looked at him and rolled her eyes.
“At least learn how to wink, Gavin”
He got up from his seat, feet thumping down hard on the floor. He walked next to her, head a little bit sideways in a way he thought he was alluring, and stopped a little too close for her liking.
“C’mon, you love it” Gavin rested his hip against Ona’s desk, folding his arms in a way he knew that showed off his biceps.
“Quite the contrary” Ona paid no attention to him, grabbing a few things she needed for the first class.
Gavin was not deterred. He kept trying, ignoring Ona’s half-hearted responses. The bell rang once and the teachers went to their respective classrooms, ready to begin another day. Gavin waited until Ona was filing out too, leaning against the door frame with his arm upwards.
“Ona, don’t be so cold, beautiful. What do you say?”
“I say you better get going or you will be late for your own class, Gavin” she went through the gap between the door and Gavin’s side, under his arm, not sparing a glance back. He got a whiff of her perfume. Aaah yes. He couldn’t wait to have her on his bed.
Gavin watched her leave, her skirt moving in perfect harmony with her steps, creating such an alluring sight. Her curls bounced with her, so soft looking. Gavin bit his lip, scratching his nose near his scar. He better took her advice.
But he would not give up, no sir.
This was their everyday, Gavin flirting with her at any given moment and Ona refusing him. Day after day, week after week, month after month. Some of the teachers commented on it, telling him that maybe he should really stop, but he dismissed it saying that she clearly enjoyed the attention. He was met with a few disgusted stares and kept a watchful eye in case he decided to step too far.
But they were glad they didn’t have to intervene. The Anderson boys did and what a better way to permanently dissuade Gavin from trying to get it on with Ona. The Anderson brother’s affair was the juiciest gossip in the teachers lounge, talking and sharing news. It was like their everyday telenovela and they loved it.
So yes, they cheered when the brothers finally put Gavin on his place.
“C’mon Ona. You, me, candle-lit dinner at my place... And we see what happens, hmm?” he had her currently pinned against a wall, so damn cliché, but this way he made sure she wouldn’t try to get away.
Ona was truly panicking inside, clutching the books and folders tight to her chest as if was some shield. A flimsy one. This was the first time he got too far on his insistent flirting. And they were alone. She didn’t want to think about what could happen.
“I said no.”
“You sure, sweetcheeks? I’ve been told I’m an excellent cook”
“Gavin please, stop.” she let out a frightened whimper when he reached a hand to play with one of her curls.
“Although the sweetest dessert will be your--”
“Mr.Reed, I think the lady said no.” a voice all but growled next to them. It was filled with murderous intent. They both turned their heads in the direction of that voice to see the Anderson brothers marching towards them.
They looked furious.
Richard was ready to beat Gavin to a pulp but he doubted Ona would really appreciate that, even thought he wanted to so, so bad. Or maybe cut his finger so he never touched her hair--
Ona’s face was a desperate cry for help.
They were informed by the other teachers that Ona was nowhere to be seen, when she should be back from her last class on the upper floor. That made their heads be filled with dread, since the enemy mob was busy lately and this was a threat they always feared. But then they added that Gavin wasn’t there either and they had a bad feeling about that. Richard sprinted towards the upper floor while Connor thanked them wholeheartedly and joined his brother.
And they found them there, Gavin using his bulkier frame to cage Ona. Pathetic. Ona looked like she was ready to bolt at the first opportunity but she really wouldn’t be able to unless Gavin let her.
“The fuck you care? Can’t you see I’m having a friendly conversation with her.” he let go of her strands, righting his back to appear taller.
“Mr. Reed,” began Connor, venom dripping from every syllable. ”This looks far from friendly. You are forcing yourself on someone who clearly doesn’t want to be near you nor touch you with a stick. We are going to let you have this opportunity to step away and leave her alone. If not, you will be responsible of the consequences.”
“Oh shit, seriously Ona?” Gavin let out an incredulous laugh, ignoring the danger he was putting himself in. “Phck! So this is why you wouldn’t even consider shit about me? Because you were already spreading your legs for the fucking mafia, you greedy whor--”
The creaking sound of bone crushing resonated in the empty hallway, a pained yell following. Ona gasped and jumped aside, stepping away from the curled form of Gavin clutching his broken nose. She never saw Richard so enraged.
“Don’t you dare disrespect Miss Boix, you filthy rat.” spat Connor as he walked beside Ona, gently resting his hand on her shoulder, pulling her to him while Richard grabbed Gavin from the collar of his bloodied shirt, lifting him up on the air like a sack of potatoes. “You are a lousy gym rat who has a power trip whenever the young students look at your body because they are easily impressed, and you feed on your power over them. You are a disgrace.”
Gavin let out gurgled sounds of pain and distress, kicking his legs in an attempt to free himself from Richard’s iron grip.
“I should terminate your pitiful existence right here, right now, scum.” spat Richard, tightening his grip. “she constantly refused your advances, making it very clear she was not interested in your disgusting self. And yet, you still force her, even dare to touch her with your filthy hands--”
He threw Gavin to the floor, delivering a kick to his side. Richard was the embodiment of pure wrath, murder the only thing on his mind. Connor looked at the gruesome show, not batting an eyelid, if so enjoying it a tiny bit. Ona threw the books and folders to the floor and grabbed Richard’s arm, stopping him from delivering another kick.
“That’s enough! Please that’s enough, Richard.” he stopped on his tracks, his heart clenching painfully at Ona’s eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. He stepped aside, leaving Gavin’s body on the floor groaning in pain. Ona tugged Richard away from him.
“Let this be a lesson, Mr.Reed. Should we know you dare to touch Miss Boix again, or someone who refuses your advances, and we will finish what we started. You’re lucky Miss Boix has a kind heart or this would have ended very differently.” Connor picked up Ona’s spilt material, taking it under his arm. He walked next to his brother and his sunshine, glaring down at Gavin. “Understood?”
“Y-yes. Yes.”
“Good.” he nodded at Richard” “Let’s go.”
He gently wrapped his arm around Ona’s waist, tugging her to walk with them to the stairs. Ona spared one last look back to see Gavin spitting blood on the floor and look at them with fear in his eyes.
The hallway was almost empty and Ona made a bee line to the teacher’s bathroom, taking both Connor and Richard with her. She closed the door and locked it, grasping Richard’s hand. He let her guide him to the sink, pouring water over his blood stained hands. Richard let her, enjoying the sensation of her tinier hands on his.
“...Thank you” her voice was barely a whisper. She did feel sorry for Gavin, in a way, but he also had it coming. Was she a bad person for not feeling that sorry for him?
“You should have told us sooner, my love.” replied Richard in a comforting rumble.
Ona paused.
“I thought... I thought he would never take another step. Cross the line. Guess I was wrong” she stopped her task, grasping the edges of the sink, tears falling down and mixing with the water and red-stained soap.
Connor took his place on her other side, kissing the top of her head. Richard finished cleaning his hands, drying them on a paper towel, and turned around to see Connor hugging Ona to his chest, letting her feel secure in his arms. The idea of going upstairs to finish what he started came back with vengeance.
“Let’s get you home, honey” mumbled Connor, feeling Ona nod.
Richard dried her tears and unlocked the door, stepping out. They heard a commotion over the teachers lounge, Gavin stepping out to go to the infirmary. He looked at them and quickly disappeared, not wanting to be near them. Some teachers stuck their head out and saw the three of them outside with Ona’s ear stained face.
“Oh Ona, darling...” Tina came out and took her inside, helping her grab her things. She did not ask, gave her space to get her thoughts in order. But she did feel guilty for not stepping in sooner. “I’m sorry, Ona. I should have told Gavin to--”
“It’s okay.
“No it’s not. We all... allowed him to keep pestering you, thinking he would give up. And he didn’t.” another teacher piped in, crossing his arms.
“Please, don’t beat yourselves over this. It’s okay. I will see you all in the morning, yeah?”
“Sure thing” Tina smiled. “Now go, let your boys take care of you.”
Ona stepped out of the room, heart a little less heavy.
They called Markus to please pick Cole up as they had some pressing business to attend to. They trusted Markus with all their heart. Father would understand.
They spent the entire afternoon at Ona’s flat, pampering her like the goddess she was for them both. Even indulged and ordered pizza for dinner. How could they say no when she used her puppy eyes?
When they went home they made sure to keep an eye on Gavin, should he get any ideas. Luckily for him, he didn’t.
Lesson learned.
#dbh#detroit become human#detroit: bh#connor#rk800#rk800 x oc#rk800 x reader#rk900#rk900 x oc#rk900 x reader#rk800 x oc x rk900#rk800 x reader x rk900#gavin reed#tina chen#mafia au#ficlet#tw: blood#because Richard gets his hands on a certain douchebag and it ain't pretty#I swear I'm gonna post all this on AO3#river-ride#ask
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[fic] Silk and Steel
Rating: G Genre: . Game-Canon, Humour. Character(s): Sorey, Rose, Mikleo, Dezel, and Eguille, with mentions of the Sparrowfeathers. Warnings: Brief mentions of slight injuries, but nothing serious. Summary: In which Sorey and Rose engage in a friendly sparring match. A/N: Here’s my full piece for @zinestiria (with some minor edits). This was actually written sometime in Apr/May 2018, but hey, it still counts for the first posted fic of the new year, right? lol. This was a lot of fun and I'm grateful to be able to write more Sorey and Rose brotp moments for this project. Many thanks to the mods for all their hard work, and to everyone else who supported us by ordering a copy!
Fic can also be read on AO3
In retrospect, he supposed it all started with crabs. Well, crab hellions, to be exact. Which was an actual thing and not just a regular crab—Sorey was almost proud to say he and Mikleo had easily figured out how to tell the two apart after the incident on Camelot bridge. Both creatures had pincers capable of deadlock grips and tended to gurgle out foam bubbles. But regular crabs didn’t have more than eight legs and—as Dezel had assured them waspishly—definitely didn’t come in over thirty-feet-tall. Neither were they usually dressed in what looked suspiciously like tattered pieces of civilian clothing, unless crab-people were another thing Lailah had conveniently decided not to mention.
Sorey was glad, of course, that they’d managed to stop the crab hellions’ rampage through the port side town and had eventually purified them. But whatever tiny victories they’d achieved then didn’t seem quite enough for Rose. He was in the midst of helping Dezel tend to the injuries of a small squirrel (that they’d picked up after crossing paths with the Sparrowfeathers, on the way out of town) when she stomped up to him, fixing him with a scrutinizing glare. He stared up at her, startled, and then, perplexed. He’d just about managed to gently prompt Dezel to share a story about his friend Lafarga. But with Rose swooping down over them like a hawk now, Dezel had quickly reverted to his default aloofness, complete with monosyllabic grunts of disapproval. Sorey sighed inwardly—well, he’d tried, at least. He endured Rose’s scrutiny for two whole minutes, listening to the soft clatter of cutlery by the fireside where Felice and Talfryn were preparing supper, before finally working up the courage to break the awkward silence between them— “Um, Dezel?” Sorey began, hesitantly. “What’s Rose doing?” Rose only tutted, hands at her hips and her gaze still pinned squarely upon him. Dezel grunted, muttered something incomprehensible, and continued tending the squirrel. Its injured front leg was already bandaged neatly, but that didn’t stop the wind seraph from wrapping yet another unnecessary roll of bandage around it, if only so he could continue to avoid Rose’s gaze. Something shifted behind Rose, and Mikleo soon appeared at her side, fixing Sorey with an equally penetrating gaze. “Guys—” Sorey tried again, only to have Rose punch his shoulder. “O-ow! What was that for?” “Hm,” Mikleo said, and then sighed—a sign that he’d arrived to a decision of sorts. “I hate to admit it, Rose, but it is a bit worrisome. I regret not realising it sooner.” “Told ya!” Rose waved a hand. “And no worries! It’s still not too late to fix this.” “I honestly have no idea what’s going on,” Sorey said helplessly. “What’s worrisome and needs fixing?” Rose and Mikleo leaned closer over him, their expressions ominous, their eyes glimmering with fire. “You,” they said. Before Sorey could protest, they yanked him to his feet and shepherded him away through the shrubbery.
*
“Okay, here’s the thing, Sorey—you kind of, uh, suck,” Rose declared, hardly batting an eyelid. She’d led them into a clearing away from camp and beside a gurgling stream. Even though he’d feigned indifference in the earlier conversation, Dezel had dutifully trailed after them as well, the squirrel now chittering upon his shoulder. “What she means is,” Mikleo offered, to soften the blow, even as he tried to hide his smirk behind a hand, “you’ve been slacking off from training and it’s starting to show. Your unarmed combat has been sloppy lately.” “Sloppy is putting it mildly.” Rose threw out her arms for emphasis, frowning twice as hard now. “That hellion this morning really threw you off when you lost your sword. Without it, you were like a sitting duck waiting to be shanked!” “Come on, guys. It wasn’t that bad!” Sorey said, slightly wounded at these sudden accusations. “So I was caught off-guard this one time…” Rose and Mikleo only exchanged a look, unconvinced. “One time?” Mikleo echoed, folding his arms. “What about the incident with the werewolf hellion just days before?” “Or that scuffle with the bandits while on the road last week?” Rose added. Sorey winced, brushing a finger gingerly at the small cuts across his right cheek. The cuts were healing, but his skin still felt tender to touch—the werewolf hellion had scratched him up pretty badly after it’d bitten his sword arm. And well, one of the bandits had gotten too close and very nearly gouged an eye out. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, but… All right, so maybe they both had a point. “Fine, so perhaps there were a couple of times I might not have dodged soon enough,” Sorey admitted. “But you guys covered for me then and it all turned out just fine, right?” Rose sighed. “That’s the problem! I mean, sure, you can count on us to keep an eye out for each other during battles. But that doesn’t mean being careless and leaving yourself wide open!” “That werewolf hellion was a lot stronger than we had anticipated—even Edna and I got knocked around a bit,” Mikleo said. “But Sorey… Rose isn’t wrong either. While you have the advantage of seraphim to aid you in battles, there may be times where even we might not be able to fight alongside you, however much we wish to…” He trailed off, eyes downcast now. Sorey felt a twinge of guilt at Mikleo’s expression; there was truth in those words. The memory of his temporary resonance loss in Glaivend Basin—the helplessness, fear, and desperation a roiling dark cloud—still weighed heavily over them. “No, you’re both right,” he said. “I haven’t been as focused lately and look what that got me—bruises and bites that I could’ve easily avoided. And I could really learn a thing or two from you, Rose. You dive into battles with just a pair of daggers but still come out with little more than scrapes.” “Well, it’s one part Rose-awesomeness and two parts battle experience. But flattery will get you everywhere, so fret not! I know just how to help!” Rose said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, Eguille appeared beside her and tossed Sorey a short sparring stick. “Eguille’s been training me in close combat since I was a kid, so I’ve asked him to share some techniques that you might find useful.” “Not sure why Rose still thinks I’m one to offer pointers, considering how I got my rear handed to me by you at Rayfalke,” Eguille said coolly. “You’re a tough fighter, Mister Shepherd.” Sorey could only return an embarrassed grin. “That hadn’t really been a fight in your favour. I did have help from my friends—uh, the seraphim, after all.” “So the rumours are true then. Well, let’s start with the basics.” Eguille turned to Rose, who was twirling her sparring stick idly. “First rule of the Scattered Bones Fight Club,” Rose began, her expression solemn. “We don’t talk about the Scattered Bones Fight Club. Second rule: leave no corrupt officials or Shepherds alive—” “Righ—wait, what?!” Sorey flinched, incredulous, only to be met with bubbling laughter as Rose chanted, “Just kidding!” Eguille coughed politely, and Rose attempted a contrite Cheshire grin, gesturing for him to continue. “Always with the teasing, boss,” Eguille chuckled. “Anyway, back to the lesson. First rule of combat: never underestimate your opponent, even inexperienced ones. Sometimes you can learn a lot just by assessing them—when you’re able to discern your opponents’ drive and limitations, you can anticipate their moves better.” Eguille nodded at Sorey, watching as he mimicked Rose’s stance. “You’ve witnessed Rose in battle a few times. Let’s see if you’re able to assess her moves and spar one-on-one against her without relying on your magic tricks.” “Okay, I think I got this,” Sorey said, holding up his sparring stick and balancing on his toes the way Eguille had shown him. “All right, hit me with all you got, Rose. I’m ready.” He wasn’t ready. Sorey had lunged forward, right arm pulled back for a jab with his stick, when he realised his first mistake—letting Rose leap out of his line of sight; she was already gone in the blink of an eye. He wondered, briefly then, if Dezel had gotten nosy somehow and cast Wind-step to assist her—but no, Rose really was as quick as lightning. By the time he could react, Rose was already darting around him from the shadows. Sorey dodged, swinging his stick just in time to parry a blow—but not before he felt a sharp strike across the back of his shoulders. He gasped in surprise, stumbling forward. Rose landed lightly in the grass several metres behind him, keeping her guard up. She grinned. “Eguille’s right about you being a natural at rough-housing. Gotta work on your speed and footwork, though.” Sorey chuckled as he straightened up, raising his stick again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” “We Scattered Bones are more nimble than most fighters,” Eguille said. “Rose uses this to her full advantage. Think of your own advantage and strengths in battle, Sorey—use it as a counter-balance. You’re physically strong for your size, but agile enough to stay light on your feet. Keep your movements fluid like water, silent like silk; strike hard at your opponents, like steel. Try again.” Sorey exhaled slowly, taking a moment to reflect over Eguille’s words. Then, finding his centre, he dashed forward once again. This time, Rose rushed ahead to meet his attack directly, catching his stick with hers before jabbing her fist forward. Sorey blocked her flurry of punches and strikes, matching her speed step by step. Then, seeing an opening, he dove past her guard to knock the stick from her grip. But his victory was short-lived—with both hands free, Rose caught his outstretched arm, and using his own momentum against him, easily flipped him over. Sorey wheezed painfully as he hit the ground. His back was going to hate him in the morning. “Good disarming move,” Eguille said. Sorey wasn’t sure if it was praise directed at him or Rose, but praise was praise, right? “However, you let your guard down by assuming the fight was over when Rose lost her weapon; she easily worked that to her advantage instead.” Eguille held out a hand, helping Sorey to his feet. “So, second rule of combat: put the battle on your terms—you should always be acting, not reacting.” “Battle on my terms…” Sorey repeated, readying himself once more. “Acting, not reacting.” Rose was already on the offense, charging straight at him. Sorey moved to meet her rush, and then side-stepped away easily. He caught the flicker of surprise in her expression, before it morphed into a smirk. He returned the grin, eyes bright with daring, a playful challenge, which Rose readily accepted; pivoting on her heels, she darted around him like a fierce whirlwind. Sorey deflected her blows, searching for an opening to disarm her again. Acting, not reacting— He struck out as Rose swung her stick, felt her punch connect instead—hard enough to bruise his wrist—and his grip slipped from his weapon. Still, he pressed forward, ignoring the pain. He dodged Rose’s kick, before lunging forward enough to ram his elbow against her guard, knocking her off-balance. Yes! He grinned, unabashed at the unexpected win, and— “Sorey, the water—!” “Tch, watch it, you fools!” Mikleo and Dezel’s mental shouts were his only warning, before Sorey felt Rose seizing his shirt. “Gyeaaah!!” Rose yelped, tugging at Sorey as she flailed about. She slipped over the grassy bank, sending them both tumbling into the stream with a splash.
*
Sorey sat down beside Rose, handing her a mug of hot cocoa. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. They sat in comfortable silence by the fire as they sipped at their drinks, wrapped in blankets to keep the chill out. “Sorry about earlier,” Sorey said at length, his mug balanced carefully between his fingers. “I should’ve noticed how close we were to the stream before charging at you like that.” Rose narrowed her eyes and snorted, leaning in to nudge her shoulder playfully against his. “You’re too soft, Shepherd. All’s fair in combat if it keeps your hide safe. Besides, it’s not like that was the first time we’ve fallen into surging water together.” Sorey grinned sheepishly. “Still, I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt or anything—o-ow!” This time, Rose elbowed him in the ribs, scowling hard. “Seriously? C’mon, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than that to put me out of commission. Let’s just compromise and say we’re both a force to be reckoned with.” “Fair enough.” Sorey let out a soft laugh. “Eguille did call it a draw, so I guess we both win this round, huh?” “Yup! And while it’s great to know we’re both capable of holding our own against each other in combat, I think I very much prefer us fighting on the same side.” Rose downed the last of her drink with relish before she yawned widely, leaning back to rest against the fallen log behind them. Sorey could feel the fatigue finally catching up to him just from watching her. His shoulders and back were already protesting the mistreatment from the day’s sparring session. “I’m really glad we’re on the same side too,” he said, stretching languidly to ease the kinks out of his sore back and settling down to rest beside his Squire.
“And together, we’re the bestest. Vigilantes of the people, for truth and justice!” Rose declared sleepily, one arm raised in a victorious fist-pump. Sorey thought back to the look of fright and horror the townspeople had cast their way during their scuffle with the crab hellions that morning, and smiled wryly. He didn’t quite have the heart to tell Rose otherwise.
*
“All right, kiddos—get your suppers while they’re piping hot… Ah.” Eguille paused in his steps, balancing two bowls of stew and a basket of bread rolls on a tray. Sorey and Rose had both dozed off, their backs resting against the log as they curled close to the warmth of the fireplace. “Supper will have to wait till later then,” Eguille sighed, setting the tray down on a nearby tree stump so he could adjust the blankets over the two. He watched and listened—to the way the flames flickered a little brighter, to the sound of a stray breeze rustling the leaves of the canopy above—and glanced back at Rose and Sorey’s sleeping forms. “So the rumours are true, huh,” he murmured to no one in particular. He clasped his palms together over his chest, a show of gratitude. “This supper isn’t much, but I hope you’ll be able to share it with Rose and Sorey. Thank you for always watching over us.” The branches above bobbed lightly as if in response; while he’d never had any resonance for it, Eguille felt in that moment he could almost, almostsee the Shepherd’s seraphim beaming silently from the shadows.
—End—
#tales of zestiria#zinestiria#sorey#rose#mikleo#dezel#eguille#fanfic#thanks for all the support for the zine!
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Tales of Genius Ch. 2: Follow the Light
(9/16/18)
And so, for possibly the first time ever, I got a session two in a campaign! New high score! Woo-hoo!
Also, got to redo an adventure I ran for the old High School crew. Updated it slightly, added a puzzle, changed the final encounter, added a pair of magic items.
Don’t think I have any sort of RPG Life updates. Working on various other projects off and on. Started watching a new Netflix original series that redoubles a plot point later in this campaign.
Added a fourth party member. Which I think I’m going to lock down on. The games I’ve been involved with always had a problem of having a large number of players, so I think I want to try for the classic four-person ensemble.
Hope they’re having fun. Doubt plagues me, but they’re not whining to me, so it’s probably fine? It’s still clear I need to continue practicing GMing, and I’ve noticed I’ve been stuttering and having difficulty pronouncing words. That will all need to be improved before we move on to the podcast phase.
Now, for the second part of Tales of Genius![1]
CAST
Eli Roberts: (Played by Lyons) Child of Clio. Doctor, travelling to write a medical text akin to Gray’s Anatomy. He’s an Intellect! Olivia Grayson: (Played by Maddie) Child of Thalia. Apprentice to Eli. Believes her Squirrel-raccoon companion is her boyfriend reincarnated. Fromthe: (Played by Jose) Child of Calliope. Military veteran and current mercenary. Also has some mercantile ambitions.
Jean De Ferrero: (Played by Anthony) Child of Terpsichore. Travelling con artist.
Quick exposition:
So, that whole “Child of…” thing is part of my world’s lore. About nineteen hundred years ago, nine sisters travelled the world and founded nine schools of philosophy and nine separate cultures that populate the world. The only solid marker for the tribes is eye color. White/Light grey for Clio. Yellow for Thalia. Orange for Calliope. Green for Terpsichore. Others for the other tribes as they’re introduced.
The sisters are named after the Greek Muses.
And, so, onto our tale.
DATE: Late Winter 1911
PLACE: THE TINES (Mountain border of Astree and Hervar)
We open back up on North Fort. Food supplies are running even lower, especially since a good chunk of it has been poisoned. The mayor has decided to send those clever adventurers to try and find an alternate path out of town,[2] plus this nice Jean fellow who speaks highly of his own conquests.[3]
After some brainstorming while I was busy making curry,[4] the mayor mentioned the town crypts, which are a small network of caves some distance from town. There’s an iron door there which no one has explored past, because there’s a bunch of warning symbols on it, so better just stick the dead in there until claimed. But, well, it’s something?
The party heads to the crypt, as I couldn’t be bothered to force any scene work in the town. Would’ve been nice to establish the mixed critters of the setting, but I’m bad at following even my own notes, and I didn’t really have any cause to delay them.
In the crypts, they discovered a small band of Saber-toothed foxes.
Olivia tried to befriend the foxes using the cheese from the rations North Fort gave her, but the foxes weren’t satisfied, and unhappy with the intrusion. So combat despite Olivia’s protests!
I still am far from getting a handle of combat narrative, but after a few rounds, they’ve killed two foxes and scared off three.[5]
Then Olivia used a magic spell to cave in the entrance. Which… I should probably take a moment to taunt the party over.
And now I have. What nerds.
The party moved towards the iron door. It’s magic proof,[6] locked, and barred. So the group needs to figure out how to get in.
Unbarring it was easy enough, but it’s still locked.
But, hey, the party has a new Scoundrel Character! Maybe he can pick the lock!
The dice say no. This is dire, as the back up plan I had is sitting in North Fort,[7] and that’s not an available path anymore.
Okay, okay. Let’s reason this out. Is the door there to keep people out, or something in? Both, but which is important?
Which is to say: this door opens out, so the door hinges are on our players’ side! Which the fair doctor thinks up, then teases the con artist for not coming up with.
Said scoundrel (Jean) uses skullduggery to get the pins out. (Because it’s heavy iron, hasn’t been moved in a while, and would require finesse. Probably some heat to remove frost). I then have them do another check to get the door open since the lock is still engaged and needs to be worked out of the wall. Which they do.
Momentary inside baseball thing that might ruin the magic: I didn’t have a firm solution. I just placed the door down and waited until I heard a solution I liked. I recommend fellow GMs do this, but also try and prepare an alternate solution if the party can’t get past it for some reason. (See footnote 7 for my release valve).
On to the next room! A massive cavern, with many tunnels shooting off, and crystalline protrusions here and there. Then there’s a wooden lean-to slash shack near the door.
In side is a desk with a chess game mid-progress, and notebook tracking the game next to it, a glass jar of mythril dust, and a mummified corpse sitting in a chair[8] holding a bullseye lantern.
Eli Roberts examines the board, makes a move, notates it in the notebook(!), pockets the mythril dust, then investigates the mummy.
(A spent story point later also says he took the notebook.)
Eli fails to find anything notable on the corpse, so he turns to figure out what path to take.
Olivia, who we are learning this session has no regard for her fellow humans, uses her magic to puppeteer the mummy.
This jostles a rolled up scrap of paper out of its beard.
Time for the puzzle! Also pop quiz for my world building lore, because screw you, at least learn the muses you picked for your character’s heritage![9]
I wrote a poem (not a great poem, because I lack rhythm) that referenced the Muses in a certain order.
Now, this puzzle needs workshopping, because once the party figured out to use the mummy’s lantern[10] to shoot a beam of light into a large crystal to refract it into colored beams, and that they needed to follow the beam that corresponded with each Muse’s assigned eye colors in the order listed on the poem, there wasn’t much else to do until the final twist.
I probably could’ve done something with the crystals. Finding them, getting them in position,[11] just some complexity for the successive rooms.
Needs workshopping. But we also had a time limit, so maybe simple wasn’t bad for this rendition.
Now, this refracted light thing was an expansion on a moment that wowed the last time I did my North Fort session, which I mimicked halfway down the mine: the first obvious crystal sent the light bouncing all over the chamber, hitting other crystals, and illuminating the entire chamber, revealing a mural![12]
The mural told the mine’s story: they were mining it normally, then thought ‘hey, let’s try magic!’. Magic resonated with the mythril they were mining, heating the cave and waking up a giant snake that started gobbling people up. They got some adventurers in to deal with the snake and stopped using magic.
What I wish I added was the snake’s giant skull in this room. Instead, I had it in another room, looming over the exit tunnels. Oops.[13]
So that’s neat.
The party continued the prescribed solution and moved on, seeing the ribs of the snake were repurposed into support beams.
Another element I failed to convey is that the mining shafts were actually expanded from the snake’s tunnels throughout the mountain.
Anyways, the final room was the cool twist. Because the final mentioned Muse is Urania. Who I assigned black/dark grey eyes.
Black light’s not a thing. What could be the…
They killed their light. Eventually, mythril dust started to glow, a thick vein going down the final correct tunnel. (The poem also mentioned Urania using the stars in her line. This fit with the mythril dust but also her role as the Muse of Astronomy.)[14]
And they exit into another large chamber like the one at the top. Including wood office shack and an iron door. Inside the shack is another mummy, chessboard, and a notebook with matching move notations to the one earlier.
Including the move Eli noted and wrote down.[15] Huh.
Eli’s player spent a Genesys Story Point to say he nabbed the first notebook earlier so he wouldn’t have to hike back up.[16]
For those curious, there’s another poem on this end for going the other way. The colors don’t even have to be the same since they’d be approaching the crystals from a different angle, so the first step doesn’t have to be Urania![17]
Anyways, the spent story point ruined how I’d hoped to bring in the boss fight, so instead a Masked Snake slithers in.
Smaller than the one slain long ago, but still pretty big. Also way too young to listen to reason.
Again, three party members work to kill it as Olivia uses nonlethal magic. The snake iced the floor, making footing difficult.
I allowed the fight to drag on a while because, despite putting in my session plans to come back to make stats and having more than a month to, I never did.
Really should sit down and just make a series of notecards for easy, normal, and hard enemies. Get too distracted with narrative.
Anyways, combat rages, half the party gets upset with Olivia’s efforts not to kill the snake, when a mysterious figure in fancy robes and snake skull mask arrives and pulls a gun.
Olivia promptly magically murders this man without a word. Then steals his mask. And returns to nonlethal spells against the snake.
After realizing the snake can’t fit through the door, Eli and Jean attempt to flee, but Olivia refuses to leave, instead standing on the human corpse she created to avoid the disadvantage of the ice floors.
Eli goes in and finishes off the snake.
Grumpy after the encounter, they exit the caves, which leads out to a point on the path below the avalanche. There’s a way to connect North Fort and Soldier’s Rest.
They go to Soldier’s Rest (named such because it’s where the military men went to rest when not on duty at the mountain fort). Turn in a letter of introduction to Soldier’s Rest’s mayor, and step outside.
Where they encounter a Jackalope. They’re giant creatures ridden by the mail carriers of His Majesty’s Courier service![19] The courier has a letter for Eli Roberts: The Queen and Heir Apparent are ill with a mysterious disease, and Dr. Roberts comes highly recommended by his peers to help.
Whether this is because his peers genuinely believe he can do it, or because not healing the royal family could have dire consequences and they’d rather gamble Eli’s career over their own is a question I intend to play with.
End session two.
Admittedly, it was a railroading session that hinged on two combats that I didn’t prepare properly and a puzzle that need a few more facets, but I set some Campaign Plot up and actually got players to the table, so I say sufficient success! Always a learning experience! And Anthony seemed to prefer the system vastly over GURPS, so I think it’s good.
Just need to cement running combat and the Advantage and Disadvantage system. It’s a new thing that takes getting used to. Plus the question of what to do when you get a nothing roll.
Also need to get firmer control over what magic can and cannot do. And also that GM trumps rulebook everytime.
I have an outline for the next session. Just need to add some meat and work in elements the players enjoy. Maybe try and have it be less of an Eli Roberts focused story.[20]
Until next time, may the dice make things interesting!
[1] Pompous sounding name? Perhaps! But it’s a grab from the Tales JRPG series, and a TED Talk I saw once. [2] Had the party asked, the Mayor was avoiding asking South Fort for help because that crosses a border and could cause a lot of diplomatic tensions. The party didn’t ask, so I’m noting it here for my own gratification. [3] Because we needed to fit a new party member in some how. [4] Which I forgot to put potatoes and apples in. I’m disappointed in myself. [5] Unless it was the other way around. There was confusion! [6] Iron is magic proof in the setting! Because I’m taking inspiration from my vague knowledge of fair folk mythology. [7] Her name is Debra. I didn’t have the exact details (improv!), but if needed, she’d have the key for the door for… reasons? [8] I keep trying a Douglas Addams thing where I save the most glaringly obvious and distressing fact for last. It’s never worked because I keep getting interrupted or the players overlook I mentioned a monster. Might be a sign to stop, but why would I? [9] I casually left a prose-y cheat sheet on the table before we started. So it’s open notes. [10] Always provide the required tools if you can’t be sure the party has the needed supplies. [11] My much coveted block puzzle! I’ll figure it out someday! [12] In the pathfinder version, it instead revealed a sleeping dragon. I should’ve worked in a similar element on top of what I put in the chamber. [13] Maybe if I ask nicely, my players will pretend this is what I did. [14] Why do the muses include two with dominion over Astronomy and History? Who knows! They just do! [15] I was hoping someone would mess with one of the notebooks for this exact reveal. They played right into my hands. [16] I’ll leave it to the players to retcon why they stole the first notebook. [17] Maybe Urania should’ve been the mural room. You light the crystal for the story, then have to darken it to move on.[18] [18] Take three on this dungeon’s going to be epic! [19] A pay off when, long, long ago, when I was very young looking through a borrowed copy of GURPS 3rd Edition, I saw a picture of cowboys riding giant rabbits with saddlebags reading ‘Bunny Express’. Finally did it. [20] He took the reigns on the session one mystery, and the letter plot hook only works with him. I’ll try to do hooks working off the other three before returning to him, if at all.
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Santanico: The Making of a Mafia Queen
Santanico: 5
I looked up and came face to chest with Matthew and skinny blonde haired girl.She was pretty but from the way she reacted just now it was clear she was a bitch.Just Matthew's type.
"Are you going to apologize?" She sneered.There were two other girls behind her who looked just about ready to fight all her battles but you know what they say never judge the skinny ones.
"Why should I apologize?.. You walked into me."
"You must not know who I am." she said loudly. The music was a bit low so she caught the attention of a couple people who started to form a crowd. "..I'll let it slide, just apologize."
I laugh humorlessly. Is this girl forreal? "You must think I care about who you are when I don't. You and your lil crew might run shit in your mind but honey you don't run me... now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy."
I start walking off when her friends blocked my way and she grabbed my hand. "Let go of my hand."
"Cat let go of her.." I hear Dabin say.
"No.. this bitch needs to know her place. Who the fuck does she think she is disrespecting me." She spat out. You could literally hear a pin drop in the silence that had formed. Every time she spoke her voice rose higher obviously looking for attention and to cause a scene. Matthew stood there with a stupid smirk on his face like he just couldn't wait for something to happen. Dabin was still trying to get her too take her claws of me.
"I'm not gon’ ask you again, let my fucking hand go."
"Cat.." Dabin says sternly out when she wouldn't move. I turned around to face her when her hand makes contact with my cheek, the sound resonating through the room. With my head to the side she let go of my hand. My body shook and I could feel everyone staring.
"All that talk and look at you crying."
"Ohh fuck.." Dabin cursed as I threw my head back laughing loudly. "Matt if you know what's good for that girl get her out of here. Now!" A female spoke. I don't know why they seem so worried I wasn't going to do anything. I push through her two friends and start walking towards the door we came through to calm down when somebody's hand wrapped around my hair pulling me back.
Jesus forgive me for what I'm about to do. Bitches just don't know when to let shit go and turn the other way.
My fists clenched at my side as I turned around to face her. She raised her hand to throw a punch but I ducked and caught her in her stomach. As she doubled over holding her stomach I could see her two friends get ready to jump in. The first one to lunge forward got pulled back by her hair by a short brunette.
The other one backed away with her hands up. In that time Cat had recovered and threw herself at me, knocking me slightly off balance. She took that chance too put a couple of hits in. I could tell my lip had split from the punch she got in on my right cheek but that was pretty much all she got as I caught her in the middle which would most likely break or sprain her nose.
Before either of us could go at each other again arms wrapped around my waist holding me back. I saw her struggling against some buff guy as he looked at who was holding me.
"Take her home." His voice sent tingles down my spine and that damn accent wasn't helping. What is that British or Australian?
He let go of my waist and as soon as I thought I was free I was thrown over his shoulder.
" put me down!!" I yelled beating on his back but he didn't react. He walked through the crowd with ease.
Once outside he sat me on the hood of a car and started pacing. "What the fuck was that just now?" He shouted. I knew he wasn't yelling at me when that bitch was the reason for all this.
"Well maybe if y'all kept those bitches on a leash we wouldn't be here and you could go back to whatever the fuck you were doing before." I snapped back at him.
He paused mid stride and turned to look at me. The look on his face was almost predatory mixed with anger. His eyes locked with mine as he walked towards me.The atmosphere had changed and I now felt like his prey.
"I've only known your little ass for under twenty-four hours and you already managed to fuck up my best connect on the west coast but it doesn't even matter cause the only thing on my mind is how tempting you look right now." He said placing both hands on either side of me looking me straight in the eye.
I scoff, I don't even know this dude and I mean sure he's good looking but what the hell was he talking about?
I push him and get off the car walking away. Did he honestly think I was that easy? I hear him call out to me, ignoring him I keep on walking down the street. Minutes later a car pulls up in front of me blocking my way. The window rolls down and he looked at me expectantly. I stood still with my arms crossed over my chest looking back at him.
" Kisa get in the damn car." I stare at him and I can tell he's annoyed.
"I don't even know you."
"Considering that you're getting married to me, that's really shameful." he says and I could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "now please,get your ass in the car so that we can talk."
Deciding against being stubborn I got into the car but only because he said please.
"Where are we going?" I ask as he reaches over me and pulles the seat belt buckling it up.
"Home."
Neither him nor I spoke a word to each other on the drive home. Nothing but the sounds of the music playing through the speakers. As we came to a stop, well not fully, I hopped out the car and closed the door behind me, taking the elevator up, not bothering to wait for him. Dabin had given me the code earlier so I let myself in and headed straight upstairs without a second glance behind me. This entire day had gone to shits and the only thing I want to do right now is eat and sleep this shit off.
I change into cotton shorts and a large Paris Saint-Germain football jersey when he walked in without knocking.
"We need to talk!"
My hair is starting to curl again, which meant more work to tame it, I should probably ask Dabin to get me a flat iron.I throw it into a messy bun not caring about the loose strands that fell around my face.
"I said we need to talk!” God what is it with the men around here being so obnoxious.
"Then talk, I don't have all night." Making myself comfortable on the bed as he sat at the foot of the bed looking at me.
"First things first, I'm Barom but only my mother calls me that so you either call me Christian or Rome.Just because we're getting married in two weeks don't expect this situation to change.You're a means to an end and that's all you'll ever be.Don't get in my way and I won't get in yours, it's as simple as that." He states as if he's just said the most amazing thing in the world.
"One, I haven't agreed to being married. Secondly what you're basically saying to me is, even if we're married you're still going to fuck who want and please?"
"It's not like our marriage is going to be real. I'm not in love with you, I don't even like you so try not to catch feelings." Wasn’t he talking about how tempting I looked earlier though? Not going to lie, that was a blow to my ego. I mean, I know I'm not the most beautiful but I'm not ugly. I knew my grandfather - well more like I knew the Santanico blood- even if I said no I'd still end up marrying him because it's 'what's best for the family'.
"Are you done?" I reply completely ignoring his comments. "you can see yourself out." I say slipping under the covers not even in the mood for food anymore. The bedroom door slams and I'm left alone with thoughts.A soft knock sounds at the door and I'm not in the mood to deal with anymore bullshit so I ignore it.
Not even two minutes later,it sounds again. "Go away!"
"Hey, it's Dabin. Are you okay?" getting off the bed I make my way to the door and open it slightly.
"I'm fine, just tired is all. Thanks for checking on me though.
"Amber and I are going to watch the new Justice League movie, wanna join us. I'm not taking no for an answer either." he smiles at me.
"Fine. Let me go wash my face." I sigh, opening the door so that he can come in and head to the bathroom.
"Rome's a really lucky guy." I jump slightly as he speaks.
"Jesus, you startled me and what do you mean by that."
"Well I mean, from your records I can tell that your beauty and brains walk hand in hand. I know you think you aren't cut out for this life but I think having you here will actually make this place a little better. Maybe that stick that's been up Rome's ass will finally come out." He grins and I can't help but to smile. Yeah, Dabin and I were definitely going to be good friends.
Linking my arm in his, he led down to the movie room where Amber sat waiting for us. "I see you got her out the hole."
"He wouldn't let me breathe if I didn't. I think I'm developing Stockholm Syndrome." dropping into the space next to her. "I'm Kisa by the way, I don't think Bin over there introduced us earlier."
"Amber and trust me I know who you are. Pretty much everyone around here does also next time you knock Matthew out please record that shit." she laughs contagiously.Dabin presses play on the movie and we all relax into the couch we're on.
Halfway through the movie we run out of popcorn, so I offer to make us some more.Following Dabin's instructions on how to get to the kitchen and where to find everything I easily make it there passing Christian and his company on the couch in the living room. I could not see the person's face but I very well know it's a woman. Moving pass them, I get to the kitchen and start of in search of a pot. Ironically Dabin and Amber were just like me and preferred pot popped corn over microwave. I finally locate the pots but instead of being below like normal people, it's on the highest fucking shelf and even at 5'8 I still can't reach it.I could probably climb the counter but shit looks like it cost more than my university tuition.
"Need some help?" the deep tone I had come to associate with Matthew spoke from behind me, again startling the fuck out of me.
"God! What the hell is with you men in this place and sneaking up on people?" I scold him, my hand clutching my heart as it beats rapidly.
"Sorry," he chuckles. "I thought you heard me come in."
"Obviously I didn't and yes I need that pot up there." I look up pointing at the one that I need. Matthew reaches over me with ease and takes the pot down, placing it on the counter behind me.He looks at me and moves both his hands to the counter entrapping me.Given our height difference I have to crane my neck to look up at him. One I do however, the look in his eyes is one I've seen one too many times before.
"I know you're Rome's girl and all but damn I really want to kiss you right now." he states as he leans forward, his lips almost grazing against mine.
"You're right.She is mine so why the fuck are you all up in her face?" Matthew threw me a wink before a lazy smirk made it's way on to his face. He turns and faces Christian who's leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.
"Ohh come on Rome, don't act like you care. If you did you wouldn't have invited Cat over." the tension in the room is palpable.
"Let's make one thing absolutely clear Matthew, touch her again and I won't hesitate putting a bullet through your skull.She's off limits to all of you." he says pushing off the refrigerator. "who I invite over is my business or are you still salty at the fact that she chose me over you?" one could hear the smugness in Christian's voice.
It's obvious that there's tension between the two and honestly it's a time bomb waiting to happen. Can't forget that these two pendejos are behaving like I'm some toy.
"She only chose you because you fucking lied to her." Okay, this is about to get heated. I'm sure Dabin and Amber can do without the popcorn. Slipping easily from behind Matthew I was almost free until Christian opened his mouth.
"Keep your ass right there Kisa!" who the fuck does he think he's talking to?
Before I could give him a piece of my mind gunshots and the sound of glass shattering rung out through the penthouse. Now on high alert Christian pulls open the cabinet below the sink and pulls out a machine pistol and a M3 45 ACP. He doesn't hesitate before moving towards the commotion. I have no idea where Matthew disappeared to but I was not about to sit like a duck and wait. Grabbing the closest thing I could find which happened to be knives. Moving around the counter,I spot one sneaking behind Christian.Using my socks as an advantage I easily slide the floor on my knees and slice him behind both knees and as he fell to the floor I pull his head back and slide the knife over his throat.
Christian was handling his own pretty well and so I move along the corridor in search of Dabin and Amber. The door to the movie room was halfway open and I could hear the faint sounds of voices speaking.
"She's not in here! Where the fuck is she?" a voice that sounds awfully familiar speaks. Were they looking for me? Peeping through the crease I couldn't see Dabin or Amber so I moved back only for a hand to cover my mouth and another around my waist as I held a knife to whoever the fuck was holding me.
"It's just me," that Australian accent whispers into my ear. "Where's Matthew?" I shake my head at him.He removes his hand from over my mouth.
"Matthew disappeared right after and I can't find Dabin or Amber." Christian signals for me to follow him and even though I can't stand his ass I don't have a choice.He pulls me into what looks like an office and heads over to the desk.He types in something on the computer and the bookshelf behind him slides open revealing an elevator. Christian rounds the desk and grabs me by my hand pulling me into the elevator just as a black circular device slid into the room and immediately started beeping off rapidly. Christian an I look at each other and then back at the device before he fires a shot at the computer on his desk and the bookshelf starts sliding back into the place but not before explosions trigger off throughout the penthouse until the one in the office stops…
Dun Dun Dun! Bet you thought that was all huh?
Christian helps through the hatch of the elevator and we make our way towards a matte black jeep.Opening up the trunk he strips out of his now ripped t-shirt and changes into a black long sleeved one and maybe just maybe if our current situation was different I would not have felt bad for ogling at his exposed skin.Passing me a shirt from the bag I quickly turn around and slip out of the now blood stained one I was wearing and into the one that smells vaguely of him.
"They took Dabin and Amber didn't they?" I question even though I already know the answer.I knew Scott, Cline and the others didn't come back after the party so at least they were safe. We had no idea where Matthew or Christian's company are but I knew for a fact that we were getting Dabin and Amber back. Anyone would probably think I'm crazy but when you've been surrounded by the mafia your entire life, you learn to adapt quickly and not get too attached but yet still in the short amount of time I had been here I'll admit I let my guard down and got attached so I'll be damned if either one of them doesn't come back.
"And we're going to get them back," he says confidently.Shifting the bag aside he opens the cargo compartment and pulls out two guns a couple of rounds throwing into the back pack he had in there. "but for now we lay low.No contact with anyone especially your grandfather or my mother. Scott's going to take Cline and the others to the safe house and we'll meet up with them on Friday before you go see your grandfather." I nod at him and get into the vehicle while he closes the trunk and gets in the driver's side.
We drove for a couple of hours, just a bit on the outskirts of the city from what I could see.He pulls up to a house almost the same color as his jeep and types in a key code waiting for the gates to open. Parking the vehicle he gets out and opens the door for me which left me shocked but I quickly mask it and get out with a soft 'thank you'. Bag in hand he types in another key code on the door and enters. I don't get the chance to check out the view as he's pulling me by my hand up some stairs in the next few seconds and down to the end of the hallway. Throwing the bag on the bed he heads over to the dresser and opens up the draw pulling out some clothes. He tosses me a grey t-shirt and what looked like a pair of boxers and points to the door on the right.Bathroom's through there, I'll be in the kitchen when you're finished.
Glad for the change of clothes I head on into the bathroom as he leaves and take a much needed shower.Tonight was the first time I'd ever had to use my training, it's also the second time I've killed someone. Scrubbing my skin raw with the shower gel Christian has I didn't come out the shower until the water started running cold and my fingers start to shrivel up.Pulling a towel off the pile on the counter I dry myself and change into the clothes, throwing the towel into the hamper in the corner.Exiting the bedroom I make my downstairs in the direction we came in and if it weren't for the frustrated groans I probably would've gotten lost looking for the kitchen.
Following those sounds I find a shirtless Christian sitting at the counter, laptop in font of him, a glass of what I'm assuming is whiskey on the side and his head propped up against his hand that held his gun.
"You can go shower if you'd like." I say to him and he hums lightly, running his free hand down his face before he stands, places the gun on the counter in front of me and exits the kitchen.
Leaving me alone with my thoughts, I rake my brain trying to remember where I'd heard that voice before. No. It couldn't be. I saw him die.
#thewritersnetwork#dpr ian#dpr live#dpr we gang gang#dpr scenarios#dprteam#dpr rem#jimmy cline#dpr cream#scott kim#christian yu#christian yu scenarios#hong dabin#dabin hong#barom yu#yu barom#khh#khh scenarios#khiphop scenarios#khiphop#santanico the making of a mafia queen#bm k.a.r.d#amber liu
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Is it possible in ur view to be a sexual submissive but also in a 24/7 D/s relationship? Im having a lot of trouble obeying & being open with my partner about submission unless im turned on (tmi i apologize). I also find it hard to give in and let him be in control, i often fight him over power. I want to be in a 24/7 dynamic eventually, but right now i am feeling so very lost on who i am as a sub. I thought i knew who i was & what i wanted and now im terribly confused, & so is he. Any advice?
It’s definitely possible to be a sexual submissive in addition to being 24/7 D/s. I consider myself both. I have made many friends here on Tumblr who are both as well. But it’s also possible to not be just one or the other.
So yes, I think it’s possible that maybe you’re a sexual submissive but 24/7 isn’t for you. I think there are a lot of other possibilities too though. I hope this below doesn’t come across as me convincing you that you “should be” 24/7. It’s 100% legitimate and fine to be bedroom-only. I just went in this direction because it sounds like you and your Dom both thought 24/7 was right for you guys, and that you are feeling disappointed for not making it work out well so far. So my inclination is to primarily show you more signs of hope that it is right for you, like you seem to want it to be. But also, more possibilities on that side came to mind for me. I’ll share them all just in case one resonates.
Maybe you didn’t understand what 24/7 D/s was really like? Erotica, and even Tumblr can portray it as something that is hotter and more exciting than D/s is most of the time. At least for me, submission is something I feel that I need, but it’s not something that I always like. For me there are absolutely days where submission feels so good that it is dreamy, but those are not my average days. My average day feels like an average day for almost anyone else. Doing my chores and submissive tasks feels roughly the same as checking the mail when you aren’t expecting any packages, or stopping to buy milk and bread on your way home. Not particularly good or bad, just another part of everyday life. Then there are bad days for me as a submissive. Days where him asking me to do things frustrates me because….I don’t want to, I don’t feel like it. Days where I don’t feel like doing my chores, days where I’m tired and cranky and it takes a lot of effort to watch my attitude. On those days, I try to bite my tongue and remind myself of why I chose this life. Or even remind myself of what punishment would come if I didn’t listen. My point here is…did you think you wanted 24/7 D/s because you thought it would be more dreamy than it can be in reality? If so, maybe it isn’t something you really want.
Or…are you being too harsh on yourself for not enjoying it all the time? If you’re feeling like a failure because you’ve found it challenging - you’re not alone. It is challenging to let someone else make decisions for you and tell you what to do! Please don’t beat yourself up for not enjoying submission all the time. Ultimately you’ll have to decide if the benefits and/or good feelings that you get from submission are worth the work and sacrifices required. 24/7 takes work, but if it’s right for you, you’ll feel that the benefits and good feelings you get out of it make the effort worthwhile.
If it doesn’t feel worthwhile in the big picture, maybe it’s just not for you. OR maybe you aren’t seeing as many benefits/upsides as you had envisioned because your dynamic doesn’t include the perks you were hoping for. Are there things you can add into your dynamic that would feel really good for you, and make you want to put in more work to submit? If so try adding those in.
Another possibility in my mind, is just newness. Are you new to D/s outside the bedroom? I tested the boundaries when we were new. If we added a new rule tomorrow I’d probably test it, too. I don’t consciously mean to, but I find myself testing new rules. Many submissives thrive based on knowing our limits and boundaries, so once we’re told they’re there when we’re given the rules, we have to feel it before we can really accept that it’s “real”. Or, if you aren’t brand new but you tested the limits and they were inconsistent (meaning you got away with breaking the rule sometimes) then that may lead you to keep testing longer.
Or maybe you are just the type of submissive who likes struggle or “force” in general. Some submissives don’t actively feel submissive if they simply obey. For example, if their Dom says “Bring me a beer, please.” they would smirk and say “Nah, I’d rather not.” in hopes that he’d growl “now”. They want to get the beer, but they can’t resist that extra ‘push’ so they poke the bear. Some Dom’s are okay with that, some aren’t. If you think this is you, but your dom finds the behavior problematic, then maybe you just need to find some outlet for that power struggle that he does find acceptable. Can you tickle him if you want him to pin you down and overpower you? Can you stick out your tongue if you want your face slapped? Consider creating some ways to ‘signal’ him that you want to play without actually disrespecting him. And/or some word or signal for him to tell you that he is not currently appreciating your attempt at a struggle and that he wants you to comply immediately.
Or maybe you’re not struggling with submission in general but you’re struggling with the decisions he’s making? Do you find yourself questioning him because you genuinely think he’s wrong or making a bad choice? If you think he isn’t a great decision maker that is a big problem.
Or maybe you’ve just bitten off more than you can chew. When you have tried moving towards 24/7, how many changes were you expected to make? In my opinion, expecting a dramatic change and/or adding several rules at once is setting the submissive up to fail. If you started out with too much at once, maybe sit down and come up with just one or two changes to make at a time, and stick with those until you’ve mastered them. Then add in 1-2 more. Take baby steps.
Also..do you know of any triggers that make it easier for you to submit? For example, does kneeling or putting on a collar help you step into a submissive headspace? What about any triggers that make it harder for you to submit? If he says “would you please X?” instead of simply “You need to X.” does that make it feel optional to you? Or does he laugh or sass back if you sass him to it spirals you off track? Or does he just generally not make it obvious to you that he is unhappy with your behavior in the moment that you step out of line? Whatever it may be. If you know of things that help or hurt your submission, share those with your Dom so he can use them to his advantage.
Sorry this is so long. My brain can’t help but consider 500 angles to every situation. I hope something helps a little bit. Best of luck to you.
#asks#way too long#i'm sorry#i tried to shorten it#i seriously try to shorten ALL of my posts#i'm not good at it obviously
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Green-Eyed Monster, one-shot
TITLE: Green-Eyed Monster CHAPTER NUMBER: ONE SHOT AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sometimes it’s difficult balancing a romantic relationship with a career and other obligations, but sometimes chances have to be taken. Sometimes, even, the green-eyed monster needs to be let out of his cage to get results. RATING: T (language) WARNINGS: None. AUTHORS NOTES: This is for the Anon who sent me a kind message requesting a fic. I don’t always do requests, but this sprang to my mind soon after I received details. Thank you, Anon, for the messages. Also, Happy Birthday, again!
Green-Eyed Monster
What right did he have anyway, accusing her of being impossible to pin down for a date? This was the man who spent the better of the year out of the country for his career and he had the fucking audacity to insinuate she didn’t want to make this relationship work because she was too busy with her own career, friends, and family? Well, screw him. If he kept harping on about it, he was going to have another thing coming to him.
“Ja,” said the resonate, but demanding and terse, English voice on the other end of the mobile call. “Are you there?”
She clenched her jaw. Gritted her teeth. Okay, maybe they had a lot of things they had to work on—neither one of them had given an inch in their respective lives for each other since they’d started whatever this was between them—but that still didn’t give him the right to act like this. And on her birthday of all days!
“Yes, I’m here,” she said though her teeth.
“Look, I’m sorry. Truly,” Tom said.
He sighed into the phone, the sound of scratching audible through the line afterward. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was nervously fidgeting with his slightly overgrown beard again. She liked the look of the beard well enough, and she loved the way it rasped her thighs when they made love, but she’d spent the better part of a fortnight trying to convince him to trim it up a smidge. Frankly, she could do without a mouthful of whiskers every time she kissed him.
“I’ve really got to go, Tom,” she replied, looking at the mountain of paperwork on her desk. “The longer I spend on the phone arguing with you, the longer I have to stay at the office.”
He sighed again, this time more peevishly. “Please let me know about later. I want to take you out today, on your actual birthday, for a change. Before I have to go to my thing tonight.”
His… thing. Oh, right, the premiere. She waited for him to bring that bit up, too, about how she refused to attend any public events with him because it seemed so… permanent. For a relationship that had been on and off for a little less than a year, with no defined roles beyond that of close friends who fucked, it wasn’t something she wanted to get involved with. None of that attention had ever appealed to her. Especially when she knew how quickly her life would change—how invasive and nasty people could be. Accompanying him to anything like that was tantamount to a pledge of love, and she didn’t know yet if that’s what she was feeling for him.
“Speaking of,” she said, some demon inside of her making the voice come from her mouth. She knew she should shut the hell up, lest she make the gulf between them even worse, but nothing she did dispossessed her of the thoughts in her head or the devil sitting on her shoulder. “If you’re so keen to get me all to yourself, why don’t you cancel your appearance?”
He scoffed. “You know I can’t do that. I’m second billed!”
“Yes, right, well, so the fuck am I,” she deadpanned. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Tom, but this is our life. And until we agree to meet halfway, this is how it’s going to be.”
At that moment, her boss, Bill, stepped out of his office with his overcoat hanging on his arm, ready to leave for lunch. Older, wealthy, the definition of a silver fox, she’d once fancied she had a thing for him. But that was going on seven years ago, and she didn’t necessarily like how he handled his love life. As his assistant, she’d been tasked with sending too many break up gifts through the years. What he had turned into, though, was an intelligent man and a very faithful, giving friend.
Which, of course, Tom hated. It wasn’t that Tom didn’t trust her—he simply seemed to hate not being able to show possible challengers for her hand that he had her. In fact, the irony of it was that Tom and Bill would probably be the best of friends if they pulled their heads out of their respective arses. Instead, both men resorted to their testosterone-driven hindbrains when she was around, thinking they were each protecting her from the other man, though for very different reasons.
Bill stopped in front of her desk and rested a hip against the edge, fingering the silky petals of the two dozen red roses delivered to her this morning, from Tom. In hindsight, she hoped he realized he should have just left his birthday wishes at that. Not the calls and texts, trying to get her to commit to taking the afternoon off work to be with him.
“I have to go. Bill is taking me to lunch.”
“Are you—,” he spat, but stopped himself. He reined in his voice, just barely, before continuing. Not that what he said was much better said evenly. “Maybe you shouldn’t go with him if you’ve got so much work to do?”
Enraged didn’t even cover it. “Get stuffed, Thomas. You had better have a change of heart by the time we meet up later or I’m locking your arse out of my flat. Clear?”
“Crystal,” he said a moment before the line went dead.
She tossed her phone on the desk, letting her body sag into her seat and her forehead fall on the calendar book in front of her. She hated arguing. Absolutely hated it. But for goodness sakes, something had to give if this was going to work. They couldn’t keep going on like this.
“Trouble in paradise, love?” Bill asked, a triumphant laugh in his voice. He’d told her Tom was a jealous one. She hadn’t believed him. Sure, she liked knowing Tom wanted to keep her all to himself, but when he didn’t allow her to have the same access to him… well, it just wasn’t going to work.
“Sod off, Bill.”
He laughed loudly. “Come on. I’ve booked us a table at Le Gavroche.”
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, collecting her purse and coat.
He helped her into the coat and they made their way to the lifts before he spoke. “I thought we were celebrating today?”
“We are,” she chuckled lightly. “Le Gavroche is a little much for lunch, though.”
“When have I ever skimped on you, Ja?” he asked, a salt-and-pepper eyebrow rising curiously.
She shrugged. He hadn’t really. That’s what made him a good boss. Other assistants got the short end of the stick, as far as she was concerned. He gave her a more than healthy salary, exorbitant bonuses, and additional gifts. His office philosophy was that if the company did well for him, then he did well for the staff, which made them all work very, very hard to impress him.
They made small talk, and he received a short call from one of their clients in the cab on the way to the restaurant. Soon they were seated in the sedate ambiance of one of the finest French restaurants this side of the Channel. Two Michelin stars, to be exact. He ordered wine, and they chose their main courses—she went with Coquilles St. Jacques—before he looked across the table at her with a look of concern.
“What?” she asked.
“How long have you been working for me, Ja?”
She frowned. Great. He wasn’t about to fire her, was he? “Uh, seven years.”
“Right,” he said, nodding his head, scratching his square jaw.
“Why?”
He stretched back in his seat, relaxing against the pillowed booth-back behind him. “So you would say we know each other pretty well, right?”
“Bill, I go to your family Christmas parties,” she said. “If that doesn’t mean we don’t know each other well, then I don’t know what does.”
“True,” he responded. “Then you wouldn’t balk were I to give you a little advice, would you?”
Her frown deepened. “Advice?”
“Yes. Advice,” he said.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He started. “What? Of course not, Ja! You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. In fact, I’ll be loath to break in someone new.”
She felt her world closing in around her. This wasn’t happening. “Excuse me? You sound like you’re going to—”
“Oh, God, no!” he said, waving a hand at her. “I spoke too soon. Let me start at the beginning. Please. You’re not going anywhere. Verity Investments needs your talent. You’re brilliant!”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m not understanding.”
“When was the last time you took a holiday, Ja?” he asked. “Like a real honest-to-god holiday with sun and surf and no work at all. Not days off to visit doctors and such.”
Ja laughed at him. “With all due respect, Bill, keeping your life and business running smoothly does not lend itself to holidays.”
“My point is,” he began, “is that we need to do something about that. You need to have a life, too, and I’ve monopolized you for seven years. Though your work has only got better, it has also made you rather…intense… with your work. You’re in there all hours of the day, shutting yourself away from having a great life.”
“I like my life just fine,” she replied, even though she rethought that the second after she said so. She loved her job. She loved her boss, her fellow co-workers. A dream, really. But he was right. She hardly ever saw her family, and her love life… well, her love life left a lot to be desired. The number one reason she didn’t want to meet Tom halfway was because she didn’t have enough brainpower left in the day to manage that relationship. Relationships were tough enough on their own, but adding in who he was… well, she just couldn’t do it.
Bill gave her a knowing glance with a shake of his head. “You know that’s not true. You didn’t say it earlier, but I heard it in your voice when you were on the mobile with Tom.”
“If he only knew you were helping him out right now.”
“Yes, well, we’ll just keep that between us, shan’t we?” he said. “He needs to have a healthy fear of other men in your life. It’ll keep him on top of his game.”
“All his game is doing is giving me grief,” she said.
Bill rolled his eyes. “You are probably one of the most intelligent women I know, but sometimes you can be quite dense.”
“Why?”
“He’s been in London for three whole months doing Hamlet, and you’ve hardly seen him at all,” he said.
“That’s hardly my fault,” she said. “He was rehearsing all the time and I had things to do.”
“Did you really have things to do, or were you making things to do so you wouldn’t have to spend time with him?” he asked. “What are you afraid of, anyway?”
Ja cast him a grimace. She hated how well he knew her. Seven years of being work husband and wife clearly had given him quite the insight to her psyche. “What isn’t there to be afraid of? You saw what happened to him last year in the press. I don’t know if I can handle that myself.”
“You’re not a pop tart,” he said. “I rather think you outclass her in every category… and people will see that. He’ll be so happy to have you around, people will see it. And they’ll love you.”
“But will he be happy? We argue about the lack of time together all the time,” she said. “Even when I do try to give him time.”
“I think you need to take some personal time and see if it’s worth it.” He reached a hand into his suit coat and withdrew from the inner pocket a white business envelope. Unsealed, though thick with folded paper, he pushed it toward her on the linen-covered table top. He held a hand over it until she looked at him. “Before you open this, you have to promise me something.”
“Promise what?”
He cleared his throat. “That you’ll take the next ninety days off—use up most of your accrued leave time—and enjoy life.”
“Three months?!” she screeched, drawing attention from the tables around them. She put her hand over his. “I can’t leave everything for three months. What are you going to do?”
“Hire a replacement,” he said. “Because even when you come back, you’re not coming back as my assistant.”
“I’m… not?”
He shook his head and removed his hand. “Inside is a contract for your promotion to CFO.”
“What?” she squawked. This was… everything. Everything she had worked for, ever. All the blood, sweat and tears she’d poured into business school, the long nights spent poring over the company financials for him, teaching herself the workings of their business. “What about Gordon?”
“Gordon is retiring at the end of the year. We’ve not announced it yet,” he said. “I was hoping to get you signed before any press releases were made.”
Ja didn’t know what to do. Her hands shook as she opened the envelope and read the front page. Sure enough, it was a contract for employment, with her details in all the right places. “Where’s your pen?”
Bill laughed heartily at that. “I’m not letting you sign it until you agree to the following terms.”
“Right, right, I’ll take the three months,” she said.
“Nuh-uh,” he shook a finger at her. “There’s more. I also insist that you take weekends off, like the rest of us.”
She nodded. “Fine. Pen.”
“And, for as long as you have a globetrotter for a boyfriend, you’ll take a mandatory two-week holiday every quarter,” he replied. “Presumably, to be with him.”
“That’s ridiculous, Bill. No one gives that amount of leave.”
Bill laughed. “Well, I do. Now, shake my hand and agree to it. I will be checking up on you to make sure you’re following the terms of the contract.”
She didn’t hesitate to shake his hand, or sign on the dotted line. She did, however, resist calling Tom to give him the good news. He could stew in his juices for a little while longer. Served him right, anyway, after the way he’d treated her earlier.
That was how she found herself standing around like an idiot, all alone, just on the edge of the red carpet leading deeper into Leicester Square and the Odeon for the Thor premiere, dressed to the nines. Somehow, Bill had talked her into taking the company credit card and spending the rest of the day on a good pampering—sod all the work needing to be done. Bill had clearly called ahead to various places, knowing where he was sending her and what she needed for entrance into Tom’s world. Because she sure as hell didn’t know what she needed, and they’d outfitted her in all the latest fashions with fancy hair and makeup to boot.
As far as birthdays went, even with Tom’s whinging earlier, it had turned out all right.
Until then, she breathed in and out in an effort to find calm, trying not to freak out in the sweltering sea of bodies bumping back and forth, against her, into her, all around hugging and talking and making a ton of noise. That didn’t even include the flashing cameras and the yelling. Good God, the yelling! From both fans and paparazzi. She didn’t know how he did it. And, in fact, she considered turning right around on her ridiculous heels and heading home.
But Bill had been right, like he was always right. Ripping it off like a plaster was the best thing for it. Then it would give her the appropriate amount of time to see if she really could deal with this life—with Tom—before her three-month sabbatical was up. Now, all she could hope for was that he actually wanted her here.
He had been livid when she rang to tell him that she couldn’t get away to have dinner before his premiere… that they’d just have to meet later. So livid, in fact, he said nothing and hung up. She’d almost canceled everything—called Luke back to say never mind on messengering the pass to her and everything. But she didn’t. She wanted to take the chance. For once in her life.
An incredibly tall older guy with grey hair passed beside her, his arm brushing hers. He paused a moment, smiling brightly down at her. It took another full second to realize it was Jeff Goldblum which precipitated ten-year-old her having a minor meltdown. Okay, maybe it wasn’t minor. She was practically vibrating with anxiety, blinking wildly, as her mouth dropped open.
Jeff smiled charitably at her, pressing a warm hand to her arm and cocking his head to the side. “Hello, dear.”
“I’m, um… hi,” she wheezed.
He laughed and looked at the pass hanging around her neck. “Why don’t you, uh, come in with us instead of waiting out here? No sense standing out here getting trampled on.”
She shook her head. “I’m waiting for Tom.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“I suppose a few of them are,” she murmured, glancing across the street at a group of women wearing very large Loki helmets of different fabrications. “I’m his, er, girlfriend.”
Well, she supposed she was. She didn’t know anymore.
Jeff clapped his hands gleefully. “Oh, I knew you seemed familiar. He was going on and on about you during our downtime between press this week! He showed us a few photos.”
Her face inflamed and she looked away from him nervously. “Really?”
“Just between you and me,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “he’s smitten.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Jeff let out a laugh again, a full deep one, then slipped a hand around the pretty woman beside him, who must have been his wife. “We’ll see you inside, lovely.”
And they moved on, leaving her with a massive crush and blushing cheeks. Fortunately, a loud roar in the crowd stole her attention, though whatever had happened was then blocked by a large black SUV. She breathed in, then out, listening to the insanity, making out the name they’d begun chanting.
He had arrived.
She stood on her tiptoes—which, really, she already was in these shoes—trying to see over everyone, but she was too small. So, she resigned herself to waiting until he was done doing whatever. The car pulled away, leaving him in full view as he worked his way down the line signing things, taking photos and shaking hands. It was insane. But it did give her ample time to look over his svelte form, in a dark charcoal grey suit, cut to his body, perfectly tailored. She’d always admired that about him—how well he dressed. Okay, dressed when he was on the job. The everyday clothes? Those would need to change if she was going to be around him more.
Heck, she’d be perfectly fine if he wore nothing in the privacy of their respective homes. But when they went out? She didn’t want to be staring at the same thing all the time.
When Luke pulled him along, toward her, she noted that he’d also cleaned up his beard, trimmed it a bit. He looked better. Better than better. Except for the way his lips were pressed together, like this was the absolute last place he wanted to be. Sullen. Fuck, why had she given him such a hard time on the phone this morning?
No, wait. He deserved it for unleashing his green-eyed monster earlier.
Still, she realized, belatedly, how much she’d hurt him, too. It softened her more than her nervousness already had.
Finally, they moved nearer to her, joining the throng slowly making their way down onto the main part of the red carpet. They didn’t seem to notice her—which wasn’t hard, surrounded by so many large people—so she elbowed her way through the black-clothed handlers and stopped dead in front of him, just as he began to pass by.
He froze, frowned, squinted his eyes as if trying to make sense of the moment like people do when they see an out of place object. Then, before she could prepare, his arms shot around her, crushing her to his chest, lifting her in his arms and spinning around. She wobbled in his secure embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck for support just as she felt a giddy giggle springing from her throat. Then he kissed her, full, and long, with demanding lips and teeth and a bit of tongue—for good measure—in full view of everyone. Fuck, he never ceased to steal her breath away.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a huge smile splitting his lips.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she retorted and fingered the lanyard and pass around her neck so he could look at it.
When she finally met his eyes again, she saw tears in them. Maybe not full blown “I’m about to sob” tears, but definitely a little mist. And it broke her. Literally broke her. Why hadn’t he just pulled his head out of his arse and told her how much something like this meant to him anyway? Bloody man.
“Did you know you were doing this from the first time we talked this morning?” he asked. “If so, I apologize.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I really did have work to do… but let’s not talk about it now, okay? We do need to talk, though. You need to stop being such a jealous arse, and I need to stop letting good things pass me by. But right now, I just want to enjoy the night with my boyfriend.”
His shoulders stiffened. And he suddenly looked like a boy who’d just won the top prize at some sort of school event. “Seriously?”
“Seriously… what?” she teased him, making him work for it.
“Boyfriend? Not ‘friend’ or ‘lover’ or any of the other ridiculous names you’ve applied to what we are, but never really committing to it?” he asked.
She blushed. Had she really been so bad? Maybe so. “Yes, boyfriend.”
“Well, then,” he replied, entwining her hand with his, “since you’re my girlfriend, I think you need to come with me.”
“Of course I’m coming with you,” she said.
“No,” he said and waved his free arm at the brightly colored screen with the Thor Ragnarok logo printed across it, and the many, many flashing camera bulbs going off at the latest celebrity to stop in front of it. “I mean, you’re coming with me, and I’m showing you off tonight.”
She frowned. “But Tom…”
“Nope. Stop. You’re here with me now, and I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight.”
She sighed. He was right. This was what she’d agreed to by coming here—it was what Bill told her she needed to do to figure out if she could handle this life with Tom. There was only one thing to do for it. Follow him in front of the firing squad.
“Don’t let go, okay?” she pleaded, her voice tremulous with nerves.
He shook his head. A giant grin made her insides wibble. “Never.”
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston fanfic#tom hiddleston fan fic#tom hiddleston fan fiction#one-shot#one shot#green-eyed monster#fic request#actor!tom
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Well, it’s been a year since my last look at a chapter, so just going to jump in. Chapter five: The Underwater Pirate Ship.
Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4
Fun fact: I did some minor research on things in this chapter. Not enough to comment on every little thing, since it helps to be more experienced in the subject, but I can say the ‘time limit’ Kaito is referring to is most likely for a no-decompression dive. After exceeding a certain time (dependent on depth and person), too much nitrogen could be absorbed by the body to swim straight to the surface without risking decompression sickness. It’s basically dissolved gasses forming bubbles in the blood that can cause damage if you don’t allow the gas levels to dissipate before changing from the higher pressured depths to lower pressured surface.
So I think Kaito is in a perfect position to worry. The ocean can cause quite a few problems if you aren’t careful.
The fish looks spiny. Which makes me wonder how on earth she put it into her suit and kept it there without problems. I’m also assuming that it’s not a puffer fish, since it doesn’t look right, but spines do still usually mean poisonous when it comes to fish. Even if Kaito doesn’t want to touch any fish at all, pretty sure any normal person would be freaked out if you put that thing in front of their face.
1) Good aim with a projectile for a drunk person. 2) Looking at their faces. Aoko seems entirely confused, while Kaito’s head is turned to follow the path of the harpoon. While the translation has a question mark, the raw has no punctuation, so it feels like he could see the action perfectly well, even if it’s still surprising. ( I feel like Kaito has good dynamic vision anyway. )
Ah, yes, perfect way to introduce this guy. Just threw a harpoon without warning, looks like he could do it again at any time, drinking, and has glasses that are blacked out on one side. Clearly the guy to trust for a diving trip. ( I’d love to know how they found this guy. Was there just an add: Boat available for scuba diving? )
I feel like the more accurate translation was ‘you don’t know how good the sea is’, which would flow off of Kaito’s response better. Which, after this, I have to wonder if Kaito’s opinions of the sea have changed, since it’s saved him once in canon and once non-canon. And he’s fine philosophizing about why the sea is blue with Conan later.
Aoko, you had good intentions, but exposure therapy is better left to the person trying to get over the mild phobia. At the very least, pretty sure you need consent and the other person needs to know it’s coming for it to be effective and not making it worse.
Kaito is a pretty good judge of when someone is acting suspicious. Sudden compliments to try and get someone to let their guard down? Up to no good. Aoko, stop blushing, it’s pretty creepy to have the rude drunk suddenly trying to act sweet. ( He could also be read as being nervous here. Sudden sweatdrop in both of these panels. )
Not just Kaito that can guess when more is known than is let on. Also: not just glasses, but goggles that are half blacked out. Really trying to keep the suspense that is his eye a secret.
When did he have time to set up a bomb without Kaito noticing? Was he planning to blow up the boat regardless of whether the submarine was found or not? Also, Kaito got that equipment ready pretty quickly.
It doesn’t feel like they’d gotten very far. But question: Kaito, why did you dive in backwards? In the panel before, he was already in the water and looking down, he’d have purposefully ducked in backwards. And I feel like Silver noticed the explosion, at least. Can’t tell if he’s aware Kaito escaped and followed them.
(And side note: I just really like Kaito in the left panel for some reason.)
Ah yes, another fish surprise just for the sake of it. Because Kaito is the one human they’d want to gather around. ( Or maybe Aoko and Silver had to go through the school, and that’s what held them up. )
But here’s the evidence that Kaito isn’t deathly afraid of fish. Literally, anytime he’s been shown to be afraid, it’s been with a surprise. When he’s aware that they’re there, he’s not bothered. I still maintain that he just prefers not to touch them directly or eat them.
Detour with a fish and shark, and they still haven’t gone that far. Aren’t you lucky, Kaito. And isn’t it lucky he’s so focused and it’s apparently dark where they are.
Because that is a good face for a reaction to seeing the sub.
Two fun facts:
1) From what I was looking at, this is a Japanese submarine from WWII, possibly i-400 series, though it doesn’t have a number. As will come up later, they were made to hold up to three planes, and were supposed to hide underwater and only come up to sneakily release a plane before diving back down. And they also came with torpedoes.
2) Knowing the design of the sub, you can tell this one is upside-down. This entire journey into the ship is all going to be upside down, and I will point out the extra evidence of this as it comes up.
Silver is somehow creepier than I recall. He’s not pure evil, but he got issues.
That fish has to be a relative of the one before. Maybe he’s asking about the one that got harpooned. ( Also, this hatch would normally be one you go down into, and they’ll be going up instead. )
That poor book should be disintegrated by now.
Well, guess you can’t just keep making random trips to this place without keeping your oxygen with you. Yet you’re not even going to think about that later, so oh well. I'd also be amazed you brought a lighter to use instead of a flashlight.
Foreshadowing~ ( And sticking to detail, the plane is upside down, too.)
As they’re walking on the ceiling, you can see the lights that would normally light the walkways while people went around the sub.
Yeah, real skeletons would be shocking. I’d like to know what happened, though. The guy with the hat is Silver’s father (even if I weren’t using the hat that we see later, the things on his shoulder and his pin say he’s high rank), but did the other guy try to kill someone to get a sword stuck in his skull in return? Also, guns exist, you can see it at the bottom, who decided to they were prepared to bloody weapons from their hoard? Also, pretty messed up to leave the skeletons in the ship. You couldn’t let most of them drop into the ocean?
...Did you just have chloroform stored away in here? Or with you? In some way that it retains it’s effectiveness.
Between this face and his last ones, I could believe he does feels bad about killing her. I doubt he cared about Kaito, but I could see him liking Aoko because she does seem to like the ocean and was so excited in seeing the ship. What I don’t think makes sense is deciding you needed to kill two people because Aoko may or may not have seen the ship. She thought it was coral, and as soon as she mentioned it, Silver was like: Welp, time to kill both of these two so they can’t say anything. Must’ve been really scared she go tell everyone about the ‘coral’ and that it’d attract attention, but that’s still a big leap.
First thing: The year is supposed to be 1967. To make it 20 years ago as of when this chapter was released in 1987. Having an exact time is odd, too. And ignoring the name... One thing about the panels is that you can see is that, in the previous, Aoko didn’t have her arm over her waist. It does show that we see down to her knee, but no hand.
1) Kaito, why and how the heck do you have your KID outfit? Why pull it out at all? You supposedly died in the explosion so you’re going to be a ghost in more than one way? I also hope this book was new and not the one from the water.
2) So, there’s a possibility Silver doesn’t know Kaito didn’t die, so would he have been thinking KID was just wandering around in here? ‘Oh no, he found the treasure’ sort of thing? If that’s the case, the pirate thinks he’s killed at least Kaito during this chapter. ( And to be fair, I don’t think he had a good impression of Kaito. So he’d be even less likely to assume the famous thief that dove down to a submarine is the same kid who gets backed into a corner by fish. )
Nice to see Kaito is admitting him being KID is selfish. Even if the motive sounds nice. And did Silver get that gun from his dad? Because that’s one thing I don’t think he could have brought with him while diving.
For all those people who thought Kaito has to rely on his own tricks to accomplish anything. He’s perfectly capable of kicking butt, even if I doubt he’s good at hand to hand combat. He’s good at thinking on his feet, even when it comes to action.
His finger is on the trigger. And while I doubt he’d be trying to kill anyone, I fully believe he’d be willing to shoot to injure.
Did he pick up the knife, too? Kinda unnecessary, when a weapon is more for a conscious hostage and you’re already essentially using her as a shield, but okay.
Kaito’s one time being fearless around a fish made said fish want to kill him. I don’t think this will help his dislike.
The shark facts in this one are far from on point, since Gosho has always pulled more from what looks cool, but still. Sharks don’t typically ‘stalk’ any prey that’s out of their reach. Swimming around to wait expends a lot of energy, and people aren’t a shark’s ideal food choice. Even if you say the shark is mad at Kaito, sharks would prefer to keep it’s energy survive than hold a grudge.
Biggest point of this story: Kaito sympathizes with Silver. Silver is watching over and protecting his father’s ship, and has been dedicated to watching over this place that means a lot to him. Probably resonates, especially while KID is using his father’s own title right now. Self imposed job related to things passed on from their father, even if it’s more an emotional choice than a logical one.
Nah, pirates are pretty okay. That’s more what would happen if you trust politicians. *shot*
This is probably one of my favourite quotes from Kaito. I might question the exact wording, but the meaning is still basically: I could die either way, I might as well choose to trust that you’ll help. Just a really good way to put it, being positive, but not quite in an optimistic way. More like better wording of ‘I don’t have much choice’. At the least, putting trust in Silver is what gives the pirate the support and push him to take steps to save all of them.
Ah, gotta love all of these early chapters where Kaito constantly faced situations that almost killed him. Newer chapters try, but Gosho’s style now makes it clear nothing major is ever going to happen. But either way, gotta love MK for how they show Kaito is not untouchable. And never has been, aside from in DC.
See? Good decision to at least kinda put faith in a pirate. And another shot for the upside down submarine. Here’s a look at the inside of a sub (not quite the same but close enough), they’re in the main machinery room.
Kaito, now is not the time to be sassy. You’re barely able to breathe. (And while Silver’s line was more or less okay, I have doubts on this line. Feel like it’d be closer to say ‘I’m not sure I’d want to’ or such. Their choice is lighthearted, but it’s one of those times I wonder if they were trying to add to a translation to make it feel more like banter. The denial of wanting to go along with what Silver said is there, but there no ‘fun’ added in it.)
Just how old was he when he got that scar, I wonder. And his dad’s hat must’ve gotten a cut in it during whatever fighting was going on that got the crew killed. Though, because of the slightly more modern setting of a submarine, and clear rank system, I have to wonder how the definition of ‘pirate’ actually works for Silver and his father. The skull and crossbones are there, but was the look to not gain suspicion? Or was it somewhat similar to privateers, who acted like pirates but were under orders from a government. This chapter could be expanded on so much, and it’s not like it’s a boring chapter without thinking about details.
I do wonder if they (mostly KID) should have been more nervous about returning power to the sub. I’m assuming these lines in the water are from wires or something else that’s been reactivated, and who knows how well that’s supposed to work while covered in water.
Still enjoying the fact that Kaito really can’t do anything but rely on Silver.
This poor, poor shark. Kicked in the face, rightfully wanted to show his annoyance, and then gets buried by giant rocks.
Genuinely cute little moment of ‘hell yeah, we actually get to live’ excitement and beating the odds. Would have been nice if the relieved happiness would have lasted longer.
I feel like Silver is just trying to prove a point, even though Kaito was the one right in the end. Silver had been the one saying that it’d take a miracle, and Kaito was the one to encourage him to try. And now the ship did rise, so Kaito was right, but now Silver is just trying to prove him wrong in deciding to put any trust in him at the end. Which Kaito is fully aware of, he’s never been blindly trusting this whole time, but might as well try. ( And the serrated edge was visible before, but I don’t think that kind of knife suits the guy much at all. )
True. From what we’ve seen, Silver hasn’t really done anything that could be considered piracy, it’s more like he’s taking his father’s title. Silver himself has only been dedicated to protecting the submarine and the memories in it. (Although, not the best at that, since he’s the one who took Kaito and Aoko to the area for diving. Doesn’t seem the brightest when you’re trying to hide something that’s visible when you’re beneath the surface. I have to question whether or not he’s had to really kill many people, and what would he do with them. At the least, he couldn’t have had to do it often, for all the bodies in the ship to only be bare bones. Unless past people were kept outside and left to the fish. )
Either way, he seems to just enjoy the ocean more than he does about adopting a pirate lifestyle. He’d be good as a normal sailor, if he could have ever pulled away from his ‘home’.
....Translation, he did not say ‘Liar’. He said ‘shut up’. Which indicates that he’s aware that Kaito is right, but he’s refusing to admit it. I also can’t tell from the framing if he’s been really aiming to hit KID, or if he would have been hitting his feet either way. Overall I question his killing intent, even if attempt to harm is clear.
Still trying to save Silver. It’ll be interesting if this is ever paralleled in his own story, an option to have a happy life, or continue his dangerous one that he’s not even obligated to do, just feels like he is because of his father.
(Oh, now he’s allowed to tell Kaito to shut up.) I’m a little surprised the machines didn’t fail sooner, considering how much water there’d been in the upper part of the submarine.
Oh, and I have much more doubts as to whether that gun would work now. We don’t really know how it got into Silver’s hands again, and even if handing over the gun was a condition for Silver to start trying to get the ship up and running again, we didn’t see it anywhere in those dry areas at the time. Unless he made sure to get it when passing by Aoko to set off the torpedo, but I’d have liked to see that scene. You’d think we would have, with how much Gosho loves details in his early works.
(My father is angry... why!?)
Also funny just how much Silver believes in spirits, at the least. Which would make this hilarious if there were two ghost dads fighting right now over their sons’ safety, and imagine if Toichi was the one who blew up the engine to stop Silver from killing Kaito and seal Silver’s fate.
Foreshadowing pays off.
I like that the same words are used and all... But his dad wasn’t so forceful. It was faded words, barely there ‘come... Silver... come...’ while Kaito is ‘Get in! Silver!'. Which, again, is more someone trying hard to save him, while his obligation is quietly keeping him from leaving. ( And just matches with the idea that his father’s spirit is still here better, more subtle than Kaito trying to yell at him to save his life. )
Silver’s face is a very good face.
Sticking to his title over his life. Again, really makes me think this is a decision Kaito will be faced with one day. Will he care more about living as himself, or living as his father’s legacy?
( And in his mind, this is true. He’s spent 20 years protecting the submarine, and if he left it to die, he wouldn’t be able to see himself as the pirate he’s been saying he is. ) On that note, I’d like to know if he was going by a different name for 20 years. Because we don’t have a name to refer him by until Kaito finds the captain’s diary, he was just a guy prior to that. So, it’s not like we’re aware of any life he may have had other than as Silver. So good way to go, I suppose.
Kaito, I hope you don’t choose poorly when you get this dilemma. (i.e. Don’t you go dying on us for your self given job.)
Hope you stick with her. you’ve done good so far, just continue to stick with her. I might still be iffy on how Aoko’s used, but she’s a good anchor to make sure that Kaito does still have reason to live as more than just KID.
This is a good chapter for pure character. I’ll hold on to my vain hopes that this and the robot may one day get animated. They’re just great as stories.
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Trip and Fall in Love
Read on |AO3| or |FF.NET| ~ 4.3K
For: @raitoackerman
Prompt: AU in which Eren is a shy and clumsy model, and annoys his photographer Levi who doesn't want to admit that Eren is actually freaking cute when he trips over cables. They’re hitting a bar after a shoot one day, and a drunk Eren confesses that he thinks Levi’s really hot and that's why he’s always bumping into stuff during shoots - well that, and the fact that he's pretty blind, but thinks his glasses don't make him cute at all.
Many thanks to my beta reader, she made this so much better
Like the wind through a dense forest, rumors swept through the country’s leading media group for fashion magazines. No matter about whom or what was the talk of the week, everyone were bound to know it. Tough luck if all the spotlights were aimed at you.
Levi, too, got his generous slice of attention.
“Did you see how Ackerman acted last week at the beach shoot? He’d rather have photographed the seagulls than the models,” the hairstylist said during their most recent break before popping her fourth gum of the hour in her mouth.
Levi had ignored her. If they did not talk about him, it would be someone else.
To be fair, he did enjoy photographing nature. But not even the highest mountains or the most colorful butterflies could rival the satisfaction of capturing the spirit of a restless model. Levi had immortalized eyes the color of tropical waterfalls one should be able to create only with the power of Photoshop. Seagulls did not compare with a man whose tongue is poking out from between his lips, head tilting back, his brown locks caressing his cheekbones, and sand sticking to his skin. If he were to choose between a pretty model and nature-
“Oomph! Fuck- shit. Sorry! Sorry.”
Maybe he would choose nature anyway.
Levi grumbled and straightened up to peer over his Canon. Before him, the model - in his navy Ken Wroy boxer-briefs and nothing else - scrambled to get back up on his feet. The last man for the day: Eren Yeager. 24 years old. Fairly new to the company. He had been working at a smaller agency a few years, before Erwin scouted him out and offered him a contract. Levi had taken his photos for two months.
An assistant Levi did not recognize lay on the floor by Eren’s feet, her complexion mottled. She extended her hand to pull herself up with the chair that someone had toppled over, but just as she was about to stand, it was tugged from her grasp and set straight. Falling again, a choked yelp left her as she hit her head against the floor.
Eren squeaked before he could stop himself. “Oh shit, fuck, shit. I’m so, so sorry, here, let me help you. . .”
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. Talented and handsome as Eren was, all the published pictures had been a success, yet he could not go through even one shoot without causing a ruckus. If it was not for his looks and his attentive personality, Levi would not have put up with this kind of shit. He could learn, he wanted to learn, but. . .
“Why the hell can’t he just not fuck up all the goddamn time?”
Hange, who had once again draped themselves across the chair that was supposed to be his, screeched before stage-whispering: “Oh come on, he’s just nervous. You’re taking his first nudes. Poor cutie.”
“Nudes? Tch.”
The chair and the assistant had been towed out of sight by the time Levi crouched down with his camera. He barked orders to both the crew and the model as the scenery through the lens changed. Half the photos would be taken from a distance and the rest up close. Eren would be both standing up and sitting on the floor, pulling off the new ideas that had haunted Levi ever since Erwin had assigned him the underwear ads.
Eren’s cheeks donned a pleasant flush, despite the make-up. His fingers trembled when he pulled a hand through his hair. From off camera, the hairstylist yelled at him to not tangle her creation. The scent of her strawberry bubblegum spread across the set when she barged into the frame before Levi could command her to stay away. And when she turned to him for support, all Levi had to offer was “he’s got more sex appeal now”. She opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it and stomped away.
“You call it sex appeal? He looks like he hasn’t gotten his first kiss yet,” Hange said as they scrolled down one of their social media feeds.
Before them, Eren shuffled his feet to find his pose again. Levi kept his voice down. “You saw the beach photos, he can be confident too. As Erwin said, his versatility is his,” Levi galanced at Hange, “charm.”
“If you say so.” Hange drummed their fingers against their chin. “Which reminds me, the results of last month’s rankings will be published today. Think Eren will make the list?”
“Of course he will. Who the fuck has been taking his pics?” Levi snorted before raising his voice. “Okay, stay still.”
He glanced up at the set. Everything was in order.
“Ready?”
Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick-
Contrary to the majority of Levi’s models, Eren had the liberty to choose his own poses once in a while too. Eren understood his visions and what worked and what did not, correcting himself even at the slightest twitch of Levi’s eyebrow.
Shoots like these were why Levi had pursued a career as a photographer. That, and the fact that Erwin knew how to push his buttons and how to make Levi work for him.
Clickclickclickclickclickclick.
The sound effects of the camera resonated loud in his ears, drowning out the white noise. He raised his finger off the shutter only to give the crew new orders.
“Spray and pray, huh. Don’t you put a little too much faith in him?” Hange asked, their attention still on their phone.
“There’ll be some presentable pics among the crap.” Straightening his back, Levi shook away the creeping numbness of his body. The leg days at the gym did pay off during work, considering he more often than not crouched in an awkward position for the sake of art. They did not prevent the pins and needles from prickling him though. He directed his next words to Eren. “Not half-bad.”
“Thank-”
“Sit your ass down on the floor and make sure the logo is visible. Pull your knees up and lean back on your left arm.”
Eren hurried to obey, landing on his bottom with a thud and a grimace. He fumbled with his feet to show as much as possible of the scarce clothing he wore. Every once in a while, he cast Levi a side glance, and either adjusted his position or moved on to the next limb depending on how he interpreted Levi’s expression.
His shoulders were tense, chocolate strands caressing his temples, his vivacity enticing. Nothing like the vibe he had given off before. Levi sat down on his heels again, this time settling on his knees to pardon his muscles the strain of a continuous squat. Eren’s eyes strayed down from the lens and quickly up again, averting his gaze and sucking in his lower lip.
Levi hummed and snapped a photo per automatic.
“This will do.” In the background, a gum bubble was popped, followed by a groan. “You need to relax. Shift your arms, and- don’t twist like that, I want to see your face.”
Eren’s lips puckered in a bemused pout. The camera hid the upturn of Levi’s lips from everyone but Hange, who squinted at each of them one at the time.
“You like him,” Hange said in a hushed high-pitch. “Don’t you?”
Levi grunted. “As I said, he’s not bad.”
Hange did not acknowledge his words in any way, but contrary to his expectations he was not eased by their silence. Levi almost missed their usual babbling - keyword being almost.
A dull pounding at the back of his head distracted him from enjoying the sparkle in Eren’s eye and the contrast between his skin and the background. The stark whiteness of it egged on his headache.
And Eren’s gaze never strayed, following his nose into the empty air. Just as Levi wanted. Right?
“Try sitting on your knees and leaning to your right. Yeah, just like that.”
Eren’s body was taut, showcasing the perfect balance between lean and muscular. His jawline sharp, carriage casual, and his hairstyle decidedly flawless no matter how aggressively the hairstylist chewed her gum. Levi fiddled with the zoom settings. He could hear the kettle calling him from at home as he pressed the shutter down and took the last series of photos. Eren moved little; only tilted his head to the side and bent his arms to boost his unperturbed aura. It was meaningless though, considering the way his gaze blazed with an intense fire. Levi had lowered the camera by the time Hange heehawed like a victorious donkey.
“Oh my God! Eren, you’ve ranked fifth on the popularity poll for male models.” They gestured to their phone, which they held high in the air. “And Levi is still number one for the photogs, for what, the sixth year straight? What an honor this is, we’ll have to celebrate-”
Gritting his teeth, Levi stretched his legs. In his peripheral vision he caught Eren staring at them, his lips parted, but Levi did not wait to see the rest of his reaction. It had been a long day at work with only a few minutes breaks between models, and a night out would only add to the stress. He deserved a relaxing evening, and tomorrow he would hit the gym before all the drunkards would even wake up from their self-induced alcohol poisoning comas, let alone mess with his workout routine.
Besides, being caught ogling at Eren would not bode well, so why tempt himself?
With a lazy wave, he went on his way towards his office. “See you Monday.”
“No-no, wait up. We need to celebrate! It’s tradition. And this is Eren’s first time in the top ten. He deserves it. Eren, you’ll come too, right? First round’s on me.”
“Yeah, uh, sure. I’ll come if it’s okay for. . . everyone else.”
Levi halted and twisted to regard the two of them, both of whom idled at the edge of the set.
“Of course it is.” Hange cackled and slapped Eren on the shoulder. He stumbled forward, and right into the cables that kept the setting well-lit and the shoots running smoothly. Just as he regained his balance, he took another step, hitting against the equipment. He would have crashed to the floor if Hange had not caught him by the waist before impact.
“Woah, you. I know Levi’s got some unrivaled charm right there, but it’s not worth falling for.” They held Eren up and patted his cheek. His make-up did nothing to conceal the redness of his neck and ears.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I didn’t notice the cables.”
“If you say so.” They laughed and sent him an overdramatized wink, which was received by spluttering. Hange adjusted their glasses so they could peer at Levi over the rim. “So how about the tradition, huh? You’ll come too, right?”
“It’s just an excuse for you to get shitfaced again.”
“Of course it is. Why else would it be tradition?”
Levi propped the camera against his hip. Hange gesticulated and muttered something about their healthy drinking habits, while Eren’s gaze wandered from one of them to the other. The thought of him squeezed between a smashed Hange and tipsy Erwin at their usual bar conquered the melancholic echo of Levi’s whistling kettle and weary body. He could take a painkiller for that.
“Fine.”
Hange froze. “You’ll come?”
With another hand wave, he spun on his heel. “Sure. I’ll put away this shit, and we’ll meet at the usual spot. But you’re paying.”
“I said only the first round!”
Hange pouted, but Levi took no notice.
Because Eren sported a dumb, utterly fucking ridiculous beam, Levi had to tighten his grip on the camera to restrain himself from taking a picture of it. It would have been a great addition. Not to his portfolio, but his phone contact photos.
The first Friday of each month: “Winners’ bar night” - also known as “Levi appreciation day” - which Levi avoided celebrating at all cost.
Except he was there, at the end of the counter with Eren by his side and a wine glass sitting before him, with the last two mouthfuls swirling at the bottom of the bowl.
“So, uh,” Eren said rolling his beer mug between his palms. “Do you come here often?”
Levi snorted. “If you’re going to flirt, do better.”
Eren raised his arms and stumbled over his words. “No, I didn’t mean- I just, Hange mentioned something about how you never come when they ask you to.”
From the booth behind them, Hange’s shouting boomed. Their words drowned in the general hubbub of cheering and dance music, but it was still unmistakably their voice.
Half of the day’s photoshoot crew had flocked around a pool table close to where Hange’s extensive collection of shot glasses adorned a neighboring table, at which they themselves swayed. The hairstylist cheered among others, while emptying her beer bottle at an alarming pace. Their eyes met and she threw him a sloppy smile. Levi hoped she had remembered to spit out her bubblegum beforehand.
“Crowds are too rowdy and loud,” Levi said, turning back to his wine glass. His first and only for the night, since drinking never brought him the joyous high everyone else thirsted for. Besides, his head pounded as it was.
“Oh.”
Eren downed the rest of his beer and asked the bartender for another. He fumbled in his jeans pocket for a ten dollar bill, which he pushed into the waiting hand.
“How many have you had?”
Eren shook his head when he put the mug back down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Maybe you should lay off.”
“I need the courage.”
Upon seeing Levi’s frown, he motioned towards the bar. “I’m the new guy. It’s awkward. I wouldn’t be able to name half of these people.” His gesture ended between them. They stared at each other for a moment before Eren let his elbows hit the counter. “And you’re intimidating.”
Eren let his head loll between his arms. Brown strands pointed in every direction, hiding his eyes. His shoulders hunched, and ankles crossed against the footrest of the stool. The lightning in the bar cast the perfect amount of shadows around him to give him a nostalgic sort of gloom. Like this, Eren had the means to win the sympathies of the whole world if he so desired. A blurred background to bring out the sharp angles of his slouched form was all Levi would need to complete the portrait. It would not make it to a fashion magazine, but that was hardly the goal either.
“That’s why you’re so clumsy on set?”
“Um, yeah, that and. . .” He blushed as he sneaked a peek at Levi from over his arm. “I need my glasses to see.”
“Glasses?”
“I look hideous though.”
“Try me.”
Eren sighed and reached to dig through his jacket pockets. He pulled out a well-kept case and thrummed his fingers against it. One peek at Levi convinced him to pop it open and slip his glasses in place before spinning on the stool. Blinking a few times, his eyes were more focused, but had lost their glow.
Levi’s palms itched. If hideous was teen slang for adorable, then sure, Eren in glasses was as hideous as one could get.
“Told you, I’m not cute at all.”
The object of Levi’s wonder slid down the curve of Eren’s nose. His hands rose to take them off.
“Wrong.” Levi pushed them back up where they belonged with the tip of his forefinger. “Keep them on.”
“But-”
“You’re fucking blind without them, aren’t you? Keep them on.”
The black frames brought out by the tinge of pink on his cheeks even better. It was useful information – for future shoots. Maybe he could convince Erwin to let Eren do a few with them on.
“I lied before.”
Levi made an amused noise. “About what?”
“I need courage for something else too.”
“Oh?” His gaze never left Eren’s face. Eren could not hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. “Spit it out.”
Eren took a swing of his beer. Two or three more gulps and the dry bottom would greet him again. He mumbled something under his breath, before emptying it.
“I can’t hear you.”
“You’re really hot,” Eren cried. Lowering his voice with an self-conscious cough, he continued. “When we first met, I thought you’d be my partner for the first shoot. I was so embarrassed when you brought your camera.” Eren pulled at his hair with both of his hands. “But shit, you’re so distracting.”
Yeah, of course Levi had noticed that sometimes Eren’s eyes lost their way, down from the lens to trace Levi’s arms and the curve of his waist. But that was something all the models did.
Levi had had only one glass of wine tonight, which was way too little for this conversation.
A few remarks came to his mind, but he kept his mouth shut while Eren grimaced at his own confession. Shame swept across the creased features, and Eren jumped off his stool, pulling his belongings to his chest.
“I should go.”
He did not stay for a response, but merged into the crowds with a slight stagger. Perhaps it was for the best that he left now. Certainly Levi would gain nothing by chasing a drunk Eren through the night crowd.
“What the hell.”
Levi tugged on his coat, and left a few bills on the counter, though Eren had paid more than enough for them both throughout the night. Hange would get home on their own unharmed, they always did.
He elbowed his way to the door, the beat of the playing music bidding him goodbye.
The sky was clouded and the air moist. Smoke coiled around his arms and legs, and he did not bother side-stepping the pools of vomit and piss and liquor on the ground.
Further down the road, Eren reached out to open the door of a taxi. Hell was he a brisk drunk.
All other noises melted away and blurred in his mind except that of his soles grating against asphalt and sand sprinkling off his path at the force of his steps, until he skidded to a halt to grip Eren’s arm. His heartbeat had accelerated, but it had nothing to do with his impromptu sprint down the street.
“Oi, don’t spew shit like that and run.”
Eren jolted. He would have backed into the gap between the pavement and the car if Levi had not pulled him closer.
“Sorry.”
Never had he seen anyone else’s irises shift in so many shades of blue and green, and weave into one color in such a seamless manner. All words evaded him, but Eren did not notice.
“So. . . do you want my phone number?”
Levi forced himself to remain stoic. “I already have it.”
Eren blinked at him behind the glasses, and he had to clear his throat.
“We work together, remember?”
“Oh right. Right, of course.”
The driver rolled down the passenger seat window just enough to bark at them. “Are you going to get in or what?”
Eren flashed Levi a smile, and gave him a quick, careless kiss on the cheek, before climbing in with movements much too stealthy for someone as drunk as him.
“Call me.”
The car window reflected the lights from the closed shops behind him, but Levi could bet his favorite camera that on the other side, Eren grinned at him.
Levi lounged at locker 1-04, the one all the other regulars at the gym avoided to the extent he practically owned it by now. A burly man in his twenties shambled in, yawning and throwing his backpack on the bench that ran along the row of lockers.
“Aw man, you’re off already? And I thought I was early,” he said in a rough voice.
“Yeah.” The towel had drawn most of the water off Levi’s hair, so he threw it over his bare shoulder.
The man studied him, but he paid the scrutiny no heed. He had been through this a dozen times before, and the new guys always took their sweet time to learn Levi’s social preference, which was minimum contact with everyone. Most of the other regulars were younger than him anyway, and they did not have much in common, not enough that Levi cared to make further acquaintance. It was not the age itself that was the problem, but their testosterone levels were too damn high and their patience too thin for Levi’s taste.
He fished up his phone from his duffle bag. The screen lit up, with two messages from Eren in response to the one Levi had sent him before hitting the gym.
[06:43] Eren - Jesus, what place is open this early?
[06:43] Eren - The headache isnt that bad. And im sorry for yesterday
The new guy had taken the hint and left the locker room. Levi typed a short text, and rummaged his bag for a clean shirt and slacks.
Eren replied when Levi had walked halfway home. The sun shone bright, painting the uphill road in a golden light that made him want to crouch down and take a shot of the deserted alleyway. Maybe the rumors were right; maybe he should pursue a career as a nature photographer.
[06:58] Eren - I didnt mean it as an insult. I wish i was as dedicated to training as you
[07:59] Eren – Does this mean im forgiven?
Levi’s lips curled upwards.
[07:01] Yeah. I’m going to grab some breakfast. Care to join?
The reply sent, Levi pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. Around him, the sunlight claimed more and more ground, pushing the shadows back into the cracks and crevices where they belonged.
Today would be good day.
Eren stood at the edge of the set with his glasses pushed high up on the bridge of his nose, looking around in apparent search for someone. He played with the buttons of the jacket he held like a shield, but his eyes lit up when they found Levi’s.
“Hey,” he said. His gaze roamed Levi’s body as he was approached. “Uh, you look great.”
Levi made a sound at the back of his throat. “Likewise.” He had to tip his head back to get a better look of the nervous smile on Eren’s lips. “You ready?”
“Well yeah. . .”
Eren’s words trailed off at the end when a louder voice came within hearing range, accompanied by the clicking of stilettos and an artificial scent of strawberry bubblegum. “I told you about the beach shoot, didn’t I? Ackerman couldn’t tear his eyes from that poor boy. Who would’ve known he swung that way, anyways.”
Eren swallowed. He bore an apologetic smile when he slid off his glasses and stuffed them in the case he had hidden underneath the jacket. When handed them, Levi stuck them into his back pocket.
“Mind the cables. Don’t trip.”
Eren scrunched up his nose. “I won’t.”
On set, a single chair had been placed in the middle. Before Eren could dash off, Levi caught his hand. For a split-second their gazes connected, and Levi was once again baffled by the most curious mix of blue and green, before he rose to his toes and pressed his lips to Eren’s slightly parted ones. He combed his fingers through Eren’s locks that were rougher than normal, thanks to the various hair products that they had no doubt been slather in.
“I meant what I said.”
“What?”
“That you look great. Let’s get the photos and eat afterwards.”
Eren beamed at him before stealing a quick last kiss, sauntering off to prepare the setting by hanging his jacket over the back of the chair, and smoothing out the collar of his button-up. Levi’s heart fluttered stupidly while he corrected the settings of the new Sony to accommodate the colder lightning for Eren’s pictures.
On the side, Hange had slumped in his assigned chair, which had not been used all day until they had arrived to get their daily pestering done.
“So,” they drawled, “all the singles are howling their voices’ hoarse. The most handsome ones are always taken or gay, or sometimes both, they say.”
“Tch. Who here’s crying over that?”
“You won’t hear any names from me,” Hange said, smacking their lips. They straightened up and gave Levi a knowing look over the rim of their glasses. “Are you dealing out free kisses now? Can I have one?”
Levi scowled and raised the camera to eyelevel. He would have to crouch to get the best angle. “No.”
With a sigh, they collapsed back into the seat. “It was worth a try.”
Levi scoffed and raised his voice. “Ready?”
Eren nodded and flashed his widest grin, but his shoulders were squared still. They would not be able to leave until Levi had snapped at least a dozen decent photos, but Eren would relax in due time, as long as he ignored the crew that had gathered around them just to stare.
By his side, Hange scrolled through the feed of their probably newest social media account. Their mumbling brought a smirk to Levi’s lips, but he hid it well behind his camera.
“And all you said was ‘he’s not bad’, huh.”
#ereri#ereri fanfic#riren#riren fanfic#rivaere#SnK#fanfiction#my fics#LeviEren#how do you tag these things??#smh
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SnK 90 Thoughts
Have you ever had this perfect story idea in mind, then realized that in order to get to it, you have to write basically an entirely separate book to set it up?
Have you ever decided that you really don’t feel like doing that?
Usually, that is when the words stop and the project goes into a desk drawer. Mostly a figurative one these days.
But--bear with me here--what if...
You just skipped all the boring parts.
There’s something delightful about watching Attack on Titan develop. Art and pacing have come so far since the first chapter, but you still get these glorious flashes where the reveal of our main character’s arch-nemeses is done with such a complete lack of fanfare that you’d be forgiven for thinking you were reading a fake scanlation even if you had the volume open in your hand.
Isayama knows how to craft a story. His telling, on the other hand, regularly spends its time stumbling up to the podium in its pajamas and happily shooting its laser pointer every whichway all over the pretty projections on the screen until you’ve started wondering more about the laser pointer’s battery life than whatever the lecturer was supposed to be saying.
The main reason you don’t want to wrap up a plot point that has been present since day one of your seven years of writing in two pages is because--
Well, presumably that stuff mattered? To the story?
Isayama’s decision to kill off most of the Paradis titans in two pages involves looking at those confused statements, and declaring, “No, not really.”
Authors do not typically do this.
Heck, most stories don’t even get to the point where they can look back at their starting premise (that has survived seven years) and inform the audience that the physical realities of that particular conflict aren’t relevant enough to be worth covering the conclusion extensively.
The story goes that humanity hides away in a cage from the inhuman monsters lurking outside--until they decide to rise and fight.
Those monsters turn out to be human.
We’re technically sticking to the same story we always have been.
We’re just now doing it without titans.
It’s like Isayama looked at his Eldian plot, and thought to himself, gee, this makes that titan problem kind of redundant, doesn’t it?
And the grand solution was to just write the common titans out of the story.
Because that is what you do with plot inconveniences. Naturally.
This is not how satisfying storytelling works.
It is hilarious, and the time frame on dealing with the worldly issues portion of this has adopted a scale that can probably handle it better, and there are a number of things that a time skip can make interesting--but holy fuck how long is that laser pointer’s battery life.
I’m going to harp on about this a little longer than I need to (shocking, I know), because as someone who tries really, really hard to get pacing right, this whole process is incredibly fascinating.
Having introduced the rest of the world to this tiny stage, this one plot detail, it of titanic proportions, it that has guided so much of the story, is so irrelevant to where the story is going that it can be excised in two pages.
That is extraordinary to me.
I don’t think I have ever seen such a prime example of an author recognizing that a prominent plot line has outlived its usefulness. It’s like he went full-on original flavor Vader.
Obviously, ideally, the Eldians vs. The World plot would tie into the common titan problem of Paradis, and the story would be allowed to proceed on both fronts. Doing it smoothly would be a challenge, but that’s writing for you.
Just as obviously, that’s not happening.
In a perverse way, the first 80-some chapters of this series behave like one of those windup toys. We didn’t know why Eren could transform into a Titan. We didn’t know why the titans attacked. We didn’t know anything about society outside the walls. We didn’t know what was in the basement. We didn’t know how the walls came to be. We didn’t know who the real enemy was. Our heroes were isolated in their struggles to rectify all of that.
We have now had our full orientation. We do not need the play-monsters anymore. We have the answers. All that’s left is to put the toy down and see how far it can go.
This is not what I would call good storytelling, but it’s so neat. I don’t think we would get to see this story with someone who was better at timing. Most people whose work is being published wouldn’t look at the series’ most well-known plot feature and put it up as collateral for the story they’re more interested in.
That kind of abandon is not something you usually get to see with a story of quality. You don’t just... gloss over parts of the story that matter. That’s common sense.
Offering the counterargument that those silly details were never meant to matter, when those silly details were formerly thought to be the plot?
That’s daring to suggest that there are parts of the story that are more worth spending time on. If the roaming titans of Paradis are deemed inconsequential, then what’ve you got for us?
It should be something good.
It should not, for instance, be forty minutes of the main character stuck in his own head until he breaks out and a bunch of people clap for him.
While I will continue laughing at the execution, one of the main reasons I’m okay with the time skip is because I’m still down for this story. This is still about humans fighting monsters for their right to breathe free air.
The difference now is that the training wheels are off.
And very promptly thrown into the sea.
It isn’t about mindless monsters eating people. It’s about human beings whose hatred and cowardice lead to them demonizing and abusing an entire race. This isn’t faceless cruelty anymore.
The fight is the same it always has been, but it’s now an informed fight.
So all that’s really great.
...Except then I get to thinking that people in the walls could actually maybe live outside the walls because the titans mostly vanished in two pages and my head starts spinning because who does that.
Never let it be said that this is a graceful story. Just a good one.
Speaking of gracelessness, this chapter was, in fact, longer than two pages.
And Floch exists.
Jean 2.0, featuring none of the insecurity that can pretend to be tact.
Floch’s role in this chapter is painful on multiple levels. He’s the sole survivor of a suicidal charge, and he did everything right. He saves his commanding officer. Humanity’s Commander. He takes them to the people who can save his life. He performs admirably even though he calls himself a coward and cannon fodder.
He’s another broken person, but the first one we’ve seen broken in part through our protagonists’ actions.
He tells the truth as he sees it, but he has no care for the damage he inflicts with it. He might find it important that Hitch get an unvarnished view of what Marlowe’s last charge is like, but he doesn’t offer emotional support. He might hate the decision Levi, Eren, and Mikasa contribute to, and think it deserves to be known, but Armin is the one he hurts, and Armin’s the only blameless party involved.
He lectures the rest of the 104th for what goes down, but Connie, Sasha, and Jean aren’t there for most of the exchange. They show up and have no clue what’s going on. Hell, Sasha’s unconscious during the rooftop discussion, and Connie’s carrying her. Jean’s the only one free, and by the time we know he’s there, Hange’s breaking up the fight.
Floch sits back and watches Mikasa pin Levi to the rooftop with a sword to his throat before he says a word.
He can be mad at Levi and Mikasa and Levi all he wants, but lashing out at Armin and the rest of the gang isn’t a matter of principle. He’s just hurt.
We don’t know enough about Floch to know how much of what he’s saying starts from a good place, but by the end of his sequence, it’s pretty obvious that his honesty, however powerful it is to hear, has its own bite of childishness.
It’s still sad, though. When Armin says Floch is right, Floch doesn’t look happy or victorious. Being right doesn’t change the mess they’re in or make the pain any less.
But geez. He manages to make half the people he talks to look like they’re questioning their will to live. Kid could use a kick to the shin and a hug.
The story has his back on making sure the words land, though. This chapter is a nostalgia trip and a half.
“In other words, you couldn’t throw away what was important to you, right?” --to Armin
“But even a piece of fodder... should at least have the right to assess the situation!” --and to Jean.
Yeah.
“Don’t get mad when you hear this... but Jean... you’re not a strong person... so you can really understand how weak people feel. [...] I mean... most humans are weak, including me.. but if I got an order from someone who saw things like I do... no matter how tough it was, I’d do my damnedest to carry it out.” --Marco, 18
Marco never comes up in happy conversations.
My personal favorite goes to Mikasa, though. For maximum pain.
“You gave up in the end.”
Hello, I am excite.
I’m not capping the whole thing because I adore these two panels on their own, but for the sake of full context, that hand of hers was holding Eren’s shoulder the moment before Floch’s words.
Hange convinces her to stop fighting for Armin on the roof.
Logic and history say she’s going to lose him and Eren.
Mikasa has spent such a long time refusing to give up. The first time the need to truly resonates, she stands and fights anyway.
She always fights. If you don’t fight, you don’t win. That’s what her first moments with Eren teach her.
Then there’s Floch, telling her that she’s more of an adult for giving up. Giving up on her family, accepting the loss.
She’s going to lose them. There’s nothing to fight here, and one of them is only alive now in spite of her, not because she was any help. There’s a hopelessness to Eren and Armin’s situation that won’t be denied, so what, is that the answer again?
Giving up on them?
Watching both of them die?
Mikasa could really use some proper pages dealing with all of the above, but for now I’m really psyched that the little moments are happening. She literally lets go of Eren in paralyzed horror.
Can has more? Please?
Besides making pitiful puppy eyes into the abyss, though, this chapter actually does have me really jazzed for whatever’s awaiting Mikasa.
The conflict that Floch keeps hammering away at is one that’s been lurking in the background for ages. Since the very first volume, to be precise. We’ve since seen in explored at length through Levi, Erwin, and the serum bowl, but like with many things in this manga, we start with Mikasa.
“Humanity is on the brink of extinction and you’re trying to dictate your own rules?!” --Eren, 4
Mikasa’s devotion to her family has been a primary character feature since her introduction. Her development has rarely been highlighted, but constantly in the background and her moments of foreground, she wrestles with the conflict of being a loyal companion and an exquisite soldier. She’s conscious of her decisions and mistakes without letting them tear her to shreds, which is a claim very few characters can make.
When she leads the charge in Trost and neglects to be there for her comrades, she knows it. When she ignores Levi’s commands against the Female Titan, she sees the damage and carries the responsibility forward. She remembers failing to kill Reiner and Bertolt and guilts over it.
Responsibility is seldom actively neglected in this series. Otherwise I wouldn’t have such easy things to quote as an example of a character making a bad choice; if someone does something questionable, you can expect a dialogue bomb to reference it at some point.
But Mikasa learns. Her mistakes aren’t creating an ever-deeper fault of trauma for every new horrible thing to trigger. She’s taken some extraordinarily hard hits, and it’s left her fragile in places, but when she experiences a mistake, she tries her best to correct it for the future.
The easiest comparison to that is Erwin.
Quotes are fastest, so I’ll go ahead and do that with something I wrote a week ago: My view on his increase in personal goals is that his guilt for being less than what he should be turns into him overplaying his baser qualities. Instead of being a good man and leader who has a weakness to overcome, he tries to frame himself as a bad leader, freeing him up to indulge in the absolute worst of his selfishness.
I believe the phrase is go big or go home. Erwin sees his mistake of putting himself over humanity, and he overcompensates in the wrong direction.
When Mikasa’s mistakes happen, she continually progresses in a direction that offers solutions to her errors.
That might be why she ends up stuck on the sidelines more often than not. Someone who quietly observes and grows at a steady click, without having their world knocked down every other week, can be hard to portray dynamically outside of key moments.
Here’s what makes all of that the fun of the hour: Mikasa’s personal, at times obsessive, loyalty, rooted in trauma, is now clearly facing its losses against her own sense of honor and duty. As much as she loves Eren and Armin, protecting them at all costs has slowly turned to only most costs. There’s enough distance between her and her trauma that there’s room for her independent respect for the world is calling her out when she does something she shouldn’t.
Eren doesn’t have that.
Eren, the first loud voice we heard screaming about the worth of humanity, has found the persons he would give everything for, and he can’t step back. He can be ashamed of his conduct on the roof, but if the same situation were to happen again, the same desperation for his friend would still be there.
Eren’s been beaten down so many times that I think his ability to let go (already one of his weaker points, since he always fights to win) has up and left him.
He can’t lose his family.
He can’t regret that Armin’s the one alive, and he refuses to put Historia in danger.
Back when Jean first joins the Survey Corps, he voices his criticisms plainly, and makes sure everyone around him knows the stakes.
“Look, Mikasa... not everybody is like you... We’re not all volunteering to die for Eren. All of us, Eren included, should know... what our lives are going to be used for.” --Jean, 22
It isn’t about just one person. It’s about the bigger picture. It’s about fighting for the sake of humanity. It’s about humanity.
It’s supposed to be.
But Ymir will give up her life and freedom to save the girl she loves, and then two random schmucks she can’t make herself leave. The pinnacle of Historia’s arc has her placing one life she cares about over plenty of others. Erwin will forget humanity for his dreams until his closest companion corrects him--only to fall into a similar trap because he can’t face sacrificing Erwin.
Grisha gives everything to his cause, but because he doesn’t love his son, he fails.
Reiner, Bertolt, and Annie are never in sync, and they die alone.
So what’s going to end up winning?
No one life is worth more than the rest of humanity, but if you don’t fight, you can’t win. If you sacrifice your interpersonal bonds for a grander purpose, you’ll never make it, because you’ll be fighting on your own.
Right now, the healthiest balance goes to Mikasa and Hange. They love fiercely, and will protect what they value with all of their strength, but their responsibility to the rest of humanity means too much to risk being selfish. Some sacrifices have to be made. Sometimes you have to let go.
But not until the very last second.
Hange understands all of that, and is grown up enough that it all flows.
Mikasa is still wrestling with how deeply that goes against how she’s fought for her family for years.
Eren, meanwhile...
I think it’s fair to say Eren is a fucking mess?
Eren, as he starts out, is idealistic, passionate, and naive enough to believe that you can change the world by running down that road at full speed.
As Eren is right now, I think he holds the memory of that being the way things should be, but he’s so bogged down in everything that’s happened, he’s lost the original spark that keeps that flash of optimism functioning.
When he talks about the ocean, he can bring Armin back, but he can’t bring himself back. His aunt’s mangled corpse is more real to him than the dreams he had as a child.
Mikasa and Armin make it to the beach, and despite all of the pain they’ve gone through getting there, they can smile. They can squeal over the tide over their feet. They’re happy.
But for Eren, the ocean that has always been one of the solid carrots of his struggle has turned into a reminder that they’re still not free. They’re still stuck. They’re still surrounded by monsters. It never ends. Making happy dreams come true is a temporary flight of fancy that can’t save them.
Death, though. That can fix it, right? Just... kill them all.
I don’t think the bleakness of RAB’s perspective has ever been presented so quietly.
Eren has fallen to a place that dreams can’t reach, and his only answer to that sense of desolation is to turn it on their enemies.
When the choice between Armin and Erwin is presented, Eren’s strongest argument for Armin is that he can still dream. He isn’t consumed by revenge. He sees something outside of death and chaos when Eren can’t.
After another year of life, that difference has only expanded, and now Eren really can’t find anything to hope for.
And that’s essentially why there are those few paragraphs of theme up there. Becoming a slave to a cause and abandoning softer things is dangerous. There needs to be that balance that people like Hange have, otherwise you’re just going to fall apart.
Learning to let something go is valuable, but if it’s done because it hurts too much to hold it close, it isn’t growth. It’s destruction. That’s why Mikasa’s struggles, while agonizing, don’t separate her from joy the way Eren’s have.
Mikasa’s learning that there are some things you can’t fight. Eren’s found despair in thinking victory can’t exist.
And look, I’m an optimist with this series. I know that, and I know it’s probably annoying or laughable on occasion.
But that setup is so perfectly arranged to oppose the themes presented in their first meeting that I can’t help but hope they’re going to go through all of this, losing faith in beliefs that have sustained them for years, and then find them again.
They aren’t young children anymore. Idealism is hard, and their lives have only made it harder, but that’s what makes it matter so much. Their values don’t deserve to lose, and if they don’t champion them, no one will. And I’d kill to see them find their way to believing in that again after being through hell.
With that thoroughly rambled about, we turn to things I don’t have complete thoughts on, but will bring up regardless.
Starting with the fact that Marlowe’s name variances would drive me to drink if I drank.
Eren pretty fragrantly calls back to what Levi tells him in the forest when they’re first facing the Female Titan.
“I don’t know the answer. I never have. Whether you trust in your own strength... or trust in the choices made by reliable comrades. No one knows what the outcome will be. So, as much as you can... choose whatever you’ll regret the least.” --Levi, 25
“I don’t know... what the right choice is. How can anyone know the future?”
When Levi says it, it’s a call to action. Who knows what the right choice is, but you’ve got to make one. When Eren says it, it’s an attempt at comfort. A choice has been made, so let’s work with it and not fuss too much over how, yeah?
Besides, Armin is so unbelievably amazing that regrets are even more of a waste than usual. For sure.
And the last thing I can work myself up to care about is that Historia rocks, and I’m gladdened that she instructs her people to not be such lying jackasses without hesitation. Hail to the Queen and etc.
But when Eren has his more complete flashback to the incident between his family and the Reiss family (harking a return to feeling slightly bad for Grisha--whatever his mistakes, Eren, Carla, and Mikasa are his world, and that’s a worthy perspective), what I really want to know is if Historia sees it too. They’ve experienced mutual memory magic before, but that was in the cave of mysteries.
Mikasa and Armin seem to notice that something has happened, but Historia’s the one to get the large panel of her eye (I need a tag for her eyes still), and I’m dying to know if that’s because she’s the one looking at Eren’s expression head-on, or because she sees what he sees.
Because if she’s receiving flashes of his flashbacks when they’re connected, Eren’s attempts to protect her by keeping one of her potential uses a secret is possibly already long dead when they hit the beach.
Also it would make my favorite character maybe relevant for another arc.
I deserve nice things, this should happen.
#Shingeki no Kyojin#SnK 90#Mikasa Ackerman#Eren Yeager#shingeki no spoilers#SnK spoilers#spoilers#tl;dr#chapter post
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Tonight, my anxiety is rules my body. I haven't had more than one cup of coffee within the last 3 days. I went from drinking 2-3 cups of caffeine a day, to one, if any. My body is tired, my eyes are tired. But my mind and heart are awake. My heart is beating fast, and I can’t stop thinking. Reflecting. The weird thing is, though, sometimes I can’t even control what I’m thinking or why. I feel these feelings, and these moods. I sit and think really hard to describe or pin point what it is I’m feeling- what the feeling is, what may be the cause of it, what my subconscious may be trying to tell me that I may be suppressing through my day to day life.
I have felt sad all day. But I’ve. been reflecting almost all night. I’ve come to the conclusion that the active theme in today’s mood is relationships. All of them, not just love or my relationship specifically. Relationships with people in my life that I’m closest to, or supposed to be closest to.
I am going through probably one of the toughest times in my life. I don't know where this has all come from, but I'm trying to figure that out too. I’m not a person who asks for help, and I'm not a person who deals with needing help very easily or lightly. I’m also not the type to lean on others, I'm the type to shut down completely like a machine when going through these times. And I’m trying very, very hard each day to not do that, or to not take steps that close me off. I’m trying to deal with this head on, and be more open to the people I hold the closest to me about it. It wouldn't be the first time that I have been told that my emotional issues often leave me looking cold, or like I don't care for others. when in reality, I am struggling so hard to get outside of my own head that it’s as if I'm consistently being eaten by my own thoughts. If how I feel could be depicted into a photo, it would probably be some cliche graffiti of a boy, holding his head in his hands, alone- with some type of squiggle lines and different circles above my head to represent the mess inside.
I dont know much. One thing I have come to terms with is that this is, indeed, a breakthrough time for me. Me using the word breakthrough is me trying to turn my hardships and this emotional issue that I;m not dealing well with, and try to use it to become more aware of my emotions, more awake, more considerate, maybe even more compassionate? Have I spent too much time drinking my pains away or distracting myself that I’ve never faced my true self, or my emotions? Have I suppressed so many emotions in my life that they are finally pouring out now? What is causing this? what is causing me to feel this way? I feel like I am losing my mind. It is driving me crazy. I feel as if I’m searching. I’m searching for something, some sort of sign from the universe to just tell me I'm going to be okay. Or to just tell me that I know who I am. Because lately, I don't even know that.
One thing I have come to terms with is that this is, indeed, a very rough time for me. As much as I push people away from me, deep down- all I really want is to feel loved, and supported through my flaws. These flaws. Because lately, I had been feeling batshit crazy, out of my mind, and completely unlovable. And you know what? The people around me help make me feel that way. Or is that all in my head too? All I know is that I am constantly walking around with this feeling that the people who are closest to me and everyone I care about is just frustrated with me. I feel unloveable, and completely misunderstood. Especially in a time where I need support, but wouldn't ever dare ask for it.
There are three main goals that Ive been trying to accomplish this year, and I plan on sticking to: To be more considerate of people’s feelings, to try not to wallow in my depression, and to express more.
I found my mind racing back to the past a lot today. Glimpses of the person I used to be. Little flashes of scenes from my past, people from my past. These scenes, or flashes, I usually see a young me, smiling, knowing who I was. Ive been thinking back to a lot of traumatic things that have happened in my life, a lot of heartbreak, a lot of changes, a lot of pain. Then, I started to analyze my past relationships.
For most of my young life, I have always put others above myself. I was always doing everything for people, who did nothing for me. I’d buy everyone hundreds of dollars worth of Christmas gifts to get nothing in return, I’d always pay for things and never get reciprocated, I’ve always done what everyone else wanted- in both friendships and relationships.
It’s kind of funny when you look back on something from your past that seemed so insignificant at the time, and now you realize it was one of the most pivotal moments. Today, I did a lot of reflecting on relationships. Past friendships, and probably my most serious relationship. Something that has always fascinated me, yet depressed me at the same time, was watching relationships fall apart. Friendships- you stop hitting each other up, stop confiding in each other, only using each other for when you need something, slowly drifting. Relationships- the subtle fighting, the jealously, the sleeping in other rooms, the communication dying.
Although very insignificant now, I found myself thinking back to my most serious relationship. I had watched us, fall apart, and I was too young to see it happening before my eyes. I think back to the Lisa that I was then. I remember that person very well. I had such hope in my eyes. Such passion for things. You couldn't stop me. I was always hopeful, always silly. What happened?Could it be that I did grow up? does that person not exist anymore because of life and struggles? I think back to the look in her eyes, when she would look at me like the most annoying person in the world. That look is probably one of the only things I remember. I get that same look, very often, right now. What is it about me that is so intolerably annoying? AM I really that hard to love? I remember a scene in my life very significantly. I was sitting on my college dorm room bed, talking to the person I would soon be on and off with for the next 4 years, about the ending of my relationship. I cried, for hours, about how unlovable I felt. I remember, very distinctly, saying the sentence “she made me feel like I was unlovable. Like no one would ever love me the way she did. That no one would want to”. Could these be issues I’ve been suppressing? Could my years of dating around, and not taking anything seriously have suppressed that feeling and those issues for me? At one point, in 2013, I remember having a conversation with my best friend. This resonated with me heavily, and still does. She had told me that I wasn't meant for relationships. Or that I’m just not capable of it. At the time, I was dating around, I saw nothing wrong with that statement. Until I met a wonderful girl, who in a way, changed my world. She has made me want to burn my past in flames and prove everyone wrong.
Do I know that I’m living my karma with my current situation? Absolutely. It’s kind of funny, when you change your mindset on things and views on certain things, but surround yourself with people you’ve known for so long that they just throw those flaws of yours in your face? When I had found out the woman I'm in love with was seeing someone else that day, I lost my mind. I showed up at my friends house, with her whole family home- a family that has known me for years and has seen me at my complete worse through many, many things. As I sit there, chugging a bottle of wine, my friends mom looks at me and says “you’ll bounce back Lisa, you always do” “do you really love her” “why do you want to make this work so bad” “it’s not worth it”. And all I can do is blubber back “I love her, I don't want anyone else. Ive never wanted to make something work so bad in my life” “this isn't like the past relationships”. As someone else looks at me, saying those things, professing my love and desire to fix my relationship and says- “I hate to say it Lisa, but this is your karma for what happened with Nikki. The one person you actually want to be with, doesn’t want to be with you”. And I knew she was right.
Do you ever lay awake at night, insecure about something and can almost hear it taunting you in your head? I cant even count how many times I've heard “you're not meant for relationships” In my head. Fighting my past, and choosing my future, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do - mentally. In every tv show or movie, there is always that one fucked up person. That one fuck up of a friend, of a family member. who is always trying to do better. But continuously falls into holes of their past because they lack support, or their demons are just so loud that in some sick, twisted way, they revert instead of move forward? Have you ever just wanted to fight who you used to be so hard, but just hate yourself so much that you say whats the point of even trying? I have been getting eaten alive by my guilt, my insecurities, and the pain I have carried around for so long from hurting other people and the messes I've created. And then I hear “this is your karma” and I flash back to the only thing I can compare this to.
Gaps are hard to close once they've been wedged open. Thats usually how it works. I’ve been in many relationships, have dated many people, have talked to many insignificant people. But the second most significant relationship I’ve had in my life, started with a gap. A change. And when that time comes, you choose to let it go or hold on tighter. Last night I was watching a show. There was a gap starting in a relationship between these two women. One was going through a really tough time (losing their job, emotional issues, etc) and the communication was cut due to depression. The other person, wanted to break up with her. Because there was a gap starting. There were other women, other opportunities. Easier, more exciting. At first, she was going to end things. But then, she looked at her girlfriend and said, “In a world of instant gratification, we always leave when things don't work or things get hard. We always want whats instant, whats easy. It'd be easy to leave and start something fresh with someone else. Yeah, the girl at the park today and I hit it off, but I felt something weird when she went to kiss me. She wasn't you. I cant do that, because I love you. And I’m not ready to let you go just yet”. They proceeded to talk about how they have nothing in common, different values. The scene ended with them laughing at something stupid together, and just laying laughing. Talking about nothing, then turned into making love. And sometimes, those moments are what bring you closer to someone, not what you have in common. When you realize how much you throughly enjoy each other’s company. people fall in and out of love countless times.
I forgot where I was going with this love tangent. I just, am really getting my ass handed to me lately. The only woman I've ever wanted to be in a committed relationship with desperately, doesn't want me and looks at me like i’m the biggest nuisance on the planet. I am my biggest critic. I am just so emotional, and I'm trying very hard to get to the route of these emotions so I can hopefully better understand what is causing these mood swings or moods in general. I’m hoping that with doing that, and being more in tune, that I will also be more in tune with others and stop feeling like such a disappointment.In my mind, to me, this is very traumatic. Knowing that I may have some type of emotional issue is traumatic for me. Some days, its hard for me to even speak or make sense out of a sentence because of all thats going on in my head. Some days, I feel so fragile that you could knock me down with a simple “hey hows your day”. Some days I cant even look in a mirror without crying. Some days I just cant even get out of bed, while others I cant sleep at all. Its just very hard to go through these things when you feel like a bother, a disappointment, and a failure to those closest to you.
In the end, all you need is yourself. Only you can pull yourself out of this. I just hope that I can continue to dig deeper and find some causes of these feelings.
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