#so tough to not feel the pressure to go forward in life according to someone else's pace

[therosejamjournal]

thinking about that post about how being in your 20s is so wild because everyone is on such different timelines and you have no choice but to accept it. really feeling it today.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober2021 - October 4th - Taken Hostage | Pushed

Gift fic to @fidothefinch <3

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Near death experience, hostage situations, implies Bruce as a shitty dad but I don't go into detail on it.

---

If there’s anything in the world that Dick hates more than being restrained, it’s being held hostage. Especially if he’s being held hostage as a threat against Bruce or Batman. One thing they don’t tell you in the foster system is that if you’re adopted by a rich and famous to the Kardashian level man, is that you’re often the target of criminals who think snatching a kid on their way home from school is a surefire way to make a million bucks. It’s no better in the vigilante business either, because often any hero in Gotham is only seen as a stepping stool to getting to Batman.

Honestly, at this point Dick’s used to it. It doesn’t mean he enjoys it, though. Not so much because of the initial kidnapping part, but because he’s worked hard to become his own person, his own man with his own life. He moved to Blüdhaven to be anything other than the son of Bruce Wayne; to be his own hero that villains learn to fear. And then the second he sets foot back in Gotham, for whatever reason, suddenly it’s all about the reclusive eldest Wayne child returning home! Suddenly, when villains see him at night, it isn’t “Oh shit, it’s Nightwing!”, it’s “Shit, it’s a Sidekick! Where’s the Bat?!”

Anyway, long story short, Dick came back to Gotham for one weekend to visit family, and now he’s dressed as Nightwing, standing on a roof with duct-tape keeping his wrists together behind his back and a knife to his throat belonging to a shady businessman who’s finally caught the attention of Gotham’s heroes.

And it’s sorta pathetic how Dick ended up in this situation. It wasn’t like this was going to be a particularly difficult mission. Just sneak into the building, grab the evidence he needed to get this bastard behind bars, and then get out. Unfortunately, someone tipped the man off without Bruce knowing about it. When he went into the main office, he was met with a very strong guard hiding behind the doors, and after a hefty blow to the head and a few concerning minutes of blacking out, Dick opened his eyes—thankfully still masked—to find himself kneeling on the rough cement of a skyscraper’s roof, completely stripped of any of his useful tools. He has a small knife in one of his gauntlets, but it’s not exactly in an easy to reach position. It would take time to grab at it, and that’s not counting the high probability he’ll be spotted by Jerome McCoy--Gotham’s latest shady businessman--or any of his goons.

Besides, Tim is already up here listening to their demands to get Batman up here or Dick dies. It shouldn’t be long before Bruce gets here and kicks his ass. That’s not even accounting for the facts that Jason, Steph, Duke, Dami, and Cass are all in town.

These idiots have no clue how close they are with dealing with close to every single bat if something bad happens to Dick tonight.

And everything was going fine until Tim suddenly stopped mid sentence in reminding McCoy that Batman was on his way and brought his hand to his communicator in his ear. When Tim paled ever so slightly, Dick knew something had gone exactly NOT according to plan.

“What is it?!” McCoy demands, pressing the knife against Dick’s neck with worrying pressure. Dick leans his head back slightly to lessen the risk of his neck being cut and meets Tim in the eyes through their masks.

Tim swallows. “Batman is being held up-”

Dick resists sighing in both disappointment and lack-of-surprise as McCoy practically explodes.

“What?!

“Only for a few hours,” Tim rushes to explain. He’s lifted his hands in a placid manner and softened his voice, which can’t be good. “He’s… met an unexpected complication along the way that he cannot ignore. Please, just tell me what you want, and I can take my partner and be out of-”

“I don’t have a few hours,” McCoy practically screeches. “Either Batman makes it his priority to get here, or Nightwing gets it!” to make a point, McCoy lifts the knife from Dick’s neck and waves it in front of him. Dick slides his eyes over to the other goons on the roof; there’s only a few. Maybe… if Dick plays his cards right… “That was the deal!”

“I understand-”

“Tell Batman to get here now, or Nightwing’s blood is on his hands!”

“He’s busy- I can’t just-”

Dick slams his body back, pointing his elbow the furthest he can with the way his arms are bound and jamming it into McCoy’s stomach. McCoy lets out a startled, breathless gasp as Dick uses his surprise to escape from his grasp and jump to his feet.

“’Wing!” Tim yells at the same time McCoy wheezes “Get that fucker!”

Dick has just a second to notice Tim’s shock at Dick’s sudden attack before Dick’s having to defend himself with his hands literally tied behind his back. Sorry, kid, Dick thinks, ducking around a pair of beefy arms, but we’re out of options.

It was going well until it wasn’t. Tim was even about to step in. However, while waking up from his lovely whack to the head, Dick failed to assess just where he was on the roof.

All it took was for the back of his heel to tough nothing but air for his heart to jump to his throat. Instinctively, he tried to wave his arms to catch his balance, but was quickly reminded of his predicament when the tape tugged against his wrists. For a moment, pure panic filled his entire body, here, wobbling backwards off the edge of a roof dozens of stories above the ground. He could feel his heart pound, hands shake, breath catch, hair rustle in the wind, but he couldn’t do a thing to stop himself from falling backwards. He’s pretty sure he hears Tim scream his codename, but he’s not totally focused on anything other than his pending doom right now-

A heavy hand wraps around his upper-bicep, stopping his almost-promised journey to pancake town. Everything is silent on the roof for a solid moment, as Dick practically hangs over the ledge of the roof with his feet just barely still on solid ground, a goon holding him juuuuuust enough to make sure he doesn’t fall. Tim looks even paler than before, looking like he really did watch Dick go over the edge. McCoy looks a constipating mixture of smug and outraged while the other goons stand nearby like useless props.

Then, McCoy speaks with anger as heavy and level as stone. “Tell Batman I want him here in ten minutes.”

Tim meets Dick’s eyes, and Dick sees everything that he needs to. Whatever is holding Bruce up, it’s more important than Dick, and Tim knows it’s useless to even try.

“Please,” Tim says, voice wobbly. He’s a detective. He knows what’s about to happen. “Just give us more time-”

McCoy snaps a finger, and that’s that.

The hand on his arm pushes Dick away and opens it’s grasp. It doesn’t matter anymore that Dick had his feet on the roof, because the rest of his body is falling.

Falling.

Dick’s completely off the roof in a blink of an eye and he’s falling.

The air is rushing past his ears and through his hair, so loud he can barely think. That’s if he’s thinking at all, as story after story passes him by. He’s falling, and for the first time in a long time, he’s afraid of falling, because this time there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He doesn’t have any tools… he doesn’t even have his hands, nor enough time to even try and get his hands free. He’s falling, rushing to the ground. He can already see in vivid detail what his body will look like when it hits the pavement.

He’s falling. He’s standing at the top of a beam, watching his mama and papa fall. He’s falling. He’s screaming as the sound of their bodies landing and snapping reaches his ears. He’s falling and he’s going to die in the most Grayson way possible.

He’s going to die the same way his parents did, a way that he’s worked hard to not be afraid of ever since he first moved in with Bruce, but was always secretly terrified.

He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to watch. He’s afraid, and Tim will watch from above and blame himself and he never wanted any of his siblings to blame themselves for his death like how he blamed himself for his parent’s for decades and-

And the wind is knocked out of him, but not from his body slamming on the ground. A strong arm wraps painfully around his stomach, and suddenly the world turns sideways and his eyes shoot open in shock.

“Fuck,” Jason grunts, holding Dick with one arm and the other wrapped tightly in a grappling line. “Fucking hell.”

And Dick… doesn’t know what to do. He feels muted, like a YouTube video playing at 144p and buffering still. The adrenaline is pumping so loudly through his entire body that the fact that Jason’s caught him doesn’t register until Jason’s landing roughly on the ground and lowering Dick to the asphalt.

“Started heading over the second that bastard said he wasn’t coming,” Jason explains. Dick nods numbly, his eyes locked on the oil covered road below him, his mind still trying to process. “Said he ran into some bastard working for Two-Face holding some rich family hostage. Said we could handle it. I can’t believe I got here just in time. Fucking fuck-face fucker.”

There’s a splash of two feet landing on the permanently puddled street beside them, and Dick can hardly contain his flinching at the sound, but thankfully Jason doesn’t notice. He just stands up and faces where Tim has landed quite suddenly from where he must have grappled down from the roof. Dick continues to look at the ground, wringing his knitting together in front of him. He… hasn’t noticed Jason undid the bindings.

“What happened to McCoy?” Jason demands, and Tim takes a gasping breath and shakes his head.

“They ran into the building while I… jumped after N.”

Jason growls, taking a step forward but Tim stops him. “Orphan said she’ll handle it, she sounded pissed.”

Jason backs off, but anger still curls in his stomach like an old friend. His fists clench to his side. “Once I see B, I’m gonna punch his teeth up to his brain.”

And it must be proof of how shaken Tim is, because he doesn’t argue.

Then, like a pin hitting tile, a small sound catches Jason’s ears. He looks down to where Dick is still sitting in the grime of Gotham’s street. His heart sinks to his gut.

“N?” he asks, and Dick doesn’t respond. “Nightwing, you’re… crying.”

That directs Tim’s attention down where tears are certainly streaming down Dick’s cheeks from under his mask. His lips are wobbling, and the second Jason kneels down to put his hand on Dick’s shoulder, a wounded sound escapes his lips.

“Dick?” Jason asks, his voice sounding shocked and unsure.

Dick looks up at Tim, looking one breath of the wind from falling apart. “You jumped after me?” His voice is small and brittle. When Tim nods slowly, Dick whimpers, dropping his head into his hands and letting out a sob. “You almost watched me die,” is all he says before he finally breaks down into mournful cries.

Jason looks up from where Dick’s now shaking and gasping into his hands and meets Tim’s eyes. Neither of them… has ever seen Dick get like this before. It feels wrong, like something in the world has shattered and can never be replaced.

“Lets… get him home,” Jason says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” is all Tim can smartly bring to his lips while Jason scoops Dick into his arms and stands up.

Dick’s so out of it with his sobbing that he hardly reacts, just curls against Jason and continues to cry.

“You know,” Jason says quietly, “the scariest way to die, for me, is to overdose.”

And Tim understands.

“I… see.”

Jason nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. So let’s just call it a night, get him some Alfred cookies, and just… let him take this at his own pace, okay?”

Tim nods, knowing that after years of Dick always going out of his way to help them with their trauma, their issues, and never asking for anything in return… it’s now their turn to return the favor. Dick looks so much smaller than Tim swears he’s ever seen him, curled up in Jason’s arms, trembling and sobbing. He silently promises to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make sure Dick gets through this, just like what he’d do for them, always. And Tim’s positive the rest of Dick’s siblings will do the same.

[babblesbabble]

A Matter of Trust

Chapter Three

Rating: Explicit | 18+

Read here on AO3

Jude and Cardan kick things up a notch.

They order a number of things from the room service menu, ordering one item at a time. It is, according to Cardan, the best way to savor it and Jude has nowhere else to be tonight. It was her idea in the first place to order food, but it seems she might not be the only one attempting to use the time to their advantage. For Jude there’s not one good reason to reject luxurious food from an expensive hotel, when it’s all being paid for. For Cardan it is an opportunity to show that he’s not the same person.

They begin with a charcuterie board, fresh fruit and cheeses with nuts and bits of bread and jam. Jude would gladly live off the stuff. Then it’s plump crab cakes and a basket of the truffle fries for each of them. And of course, what’s a healthy dose of wooing without dessert? He picks the warm chocolate chip cookies fresh from the bakery next door. They’re notorious on Instagram— Jude must have seen at least a dozen pictures of the large cookies with oozing chocolate chips before. They were a must have for any guest staying at Insmoor.

There is something intimate about sharing a meal with someone. Eating is not exactly the most flattering thing you can do in front of another person, but pretense is probably behind them after she’s had a mind-numbing orgasm under his direction. Jude doubts, at this point there is little she could do that would be a turn off. No, something has formed between them, tentative as it may be, that is caustic.

Jude plucks one of the last green grapes from the remains of the charcuterie board and pops it into her mouth savoring the fresh taste. They have eaten in relative companionable silence exchanging only the occasional courtesy, but she knows their business is unfinished. She has pushed off the conversation for as long as possible. If she starts now, she will feel more in control of the situation, something she is slowly taking back after opening up.

Jude takes a deep breath mentally preparing for the toll of this and beings, “An agreement, that’s what you want to make right?”

“Yes, that way we can go over what we want. What we’re okay with, or not.” Cardan leans back stretching against the chair Jude had once occupied. She tries not to get distracted thinking about what had happened there not so long ago.

“You can start,” she prompts, pulling her legs up to sit crisscross on the couch she’s been occupying. It’s adjacent to the chair and the leftover pickings of their room service is scattered on the coffee table that’s in front of them.

“For now, maybe we can do this once a week. How does that sound?” He proposes.

It’s not exactly what Jude had expected to begin with but it’s as good a place as any. “That sounds fair. We can always agree to more if we want.”

“Right, exactly. I’d also like to spend time with you outside of scenes.” His eyes try to stay on her, and Jude can tell he is nervous to ask this.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” She asks slightly bewildered, a near laugh tinged to her words.

“I… I guess I am, yes. I’m not saying we have to be anything, but it could make things easier if we got along better outside of scene. From what I’ve seen tonight you weren’t all the way comfortable getting into it.”

He had managed to read her fairly well throughout their play it seems. It surprises Jude a bit, but he has been full of surprises.

“It’s vulnerable,” Jude admits. Her brown eyes moving across the room to look at the surroundings once more, all the same and becoming obviously recognizable to her. At the moment it is easier than looking at him. “I don’t ‘do’ vulnerable very well.”

“I think it’s powerful to be able to give yourself over to another. It’s not something just anyone can do.” Cardan shifts forward and carefully places a hand on hers.

She can feel the warmth seeping from his large hand that fully covers her own. It is a kind touch, an attempt at building connection.

She considers his words, “I can see that perspective, and in a way it is. But opening up is… precarious. You showed me at least today that you’re capable. That doesn’t just mean I trust you without question though.”

“I don’t expect you to, Jude. If you didn’t question me, I think that would concern me more,” Cardan laughs a little.

“I’m a bit of a challenge,” Jude shrugs. She’s practically a maze of intricacies and contradictions but she thinks he deserves to have to earn this from her.

“You're worth it,” He says confidently, but pulls back from being so close.

It’s another push of reassurance to her, he wants this with her and he’s willing to do whatever she puts in the way to make it happen. Isn’t that a twist of fate?

“Oh, I hope so. If you’re taking me out, I want an experience,” Jude sits back against the couch.

“Right, you’re a tough sell,” he sighs, but is ready to go along with it. “I’ll figure something out.”

She gives him a grin, “Glad to hear it. I’m so looking forward to it.”

They spend the rest of the night hashing out what they want from this. They discuss limits and absolute nos. Where they want this to go. It is long and not always fun or comfortable for either of them, but on the other side they’re the better for it. By the end of the night Jude would tentatively call what they have a friendship with many benefits. That, she can live with.

Later that week he took her on a trip to the Museum of Sex. She had asked for an experience and he certainly had given her one. It was on the nose for their situation and at first Jude had not appreciated it. It had felt like a joke at her expense and she had nearly walked away from the whole thing until she realized: it was supposed to be fun. Sex is strange, awkward, mysterious, demanding, and many other describable and indescribable things but it is supposed to be fun. And of all things, it had taken an obscenely large dildo and a pegging joke to make her laugh and loosen up. It made her realize that she could have fun with Cardan. Sex and friendship and them—Jude and Cardan—didn’t have to be so serious. Except for when they wanted to be.

It made things easier the next time they played in scene. They did not push the boundaries much but this time he put his hands on her as he directed her. They grazed at her sides and only brushed beneath her breasts, caressing her neck and pressing against her lips like a gentle kiss. It was sweet, delicious, teasing torture in a very pleasing way. As she had leaned back against him post-orgasm, she could feel his hardness against his thigh. He only sat there and didn’t ask for anything in return.

It had happened again the next time and the time after that as he found new ways to make her cum with his fingers and toys. As he learned the curves of her body. He never seemed to ask for anything in return at this point and Jude, only after they had parted, began to wonder if her not offering had been a disappointment. Did it bother him to give her this new world and to hold himself back? She had seen the want in him, his eyes though dark as the richest black coffee, didn’t lie.

She had to ask before the thoughts consumed her and the only way she could bear to was through text.

Jude: Do you want me to touch you?

Cardan: I’d be more than happy for you to. But, do you want to touch me?

Of course. He was waiting for her to want it, to ask for it. For as much as he was the one in control it was only on her terms as she was beginning to realize more and more.

Jude: I do. We both should be getting something out of this.

Cardan: I have been. Seeing you open up to this had been enough.

Cardan: Since you insist though, I’ll work it into my plans for next time ;)

So far, their games have helped Jude find a bit more of the balance she craves. Work may not always keep her interest and the pressure may feel as if it is closing in some days, but she always has something to look forward to at least. There is always a release around the corner.

This time she is going to his place. They had kicked hotels for the comfort and privacy for their personal domiciles. He has his own townhouse not too far from downtown, and she has her own condo in the financial district. They’ve made a lot of progress so far and Jude is ready to make more, even if her stomach twists thinking about it all. The unknown of each scene they play leaves her in stomach churning anticipation, but the new possibilities are what excites her and pushes her. Each time with Cardan was a slow expansion of what she already knows, and she is thirsty for more.

As she stood on his stoop, she felt ready for this. Jude may be plagued by overthinking and overanalyzing, but she isn’t a coward. She certainly didn’t get as far as she has in life without drive. She pulls from that to confidently bound up the steps and press her red manicured finger to the buzzer to announce her arrival.

All she can hear is the sound of the wind whipping down the block and rustling leaves, until he pulls open the door. He’s already got a smile.

The place is big for one person with large high ceilings and at least three floors. The townhouse was traditional brick on the outside, the interior modern yet tastefully decorated with a dark color palette. There was plenty of space to play around in and Jude didn’t have to worry about trying to be quiet. It also reminded her just how much money he had. Cardan inherited a significant amount of money from his father when he passed and real estate was probably the soundest thing he could have done with it.

She sits herself down at a stool by the kitchen that opens into a living area not too far into the place. “So… what’s the plan for today?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says with that familiar smirk.

“I would,” she plays it cool crossing her arms.

“We’re going to start with some new stuff first, then move to more familiar territory. That sound good?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good plan,” she nods approvingly.

She wants him. It’s something she doesn’t always actively think about because it is always there pulsing under the surface. He has always been frustratingly attractive, a boy with such a poor attitude gifted with such beauty. It has only grown as his temperament and behavior have improved melding into charm. Even as she is with him more and more frequently, his effect on her doesn’t wear off. She doesn’t get used to his freakishly beautiful features. His sharp cheekbones and the defined planes of his body. He is what people imagine when dreaming up heroes.

Her eyes burn across his body. He is dressed simply in jeans and a loose patterned button up she’s sure cost a grand from one luxury store or another. It’s easy to move around in and get off, which is certainly the point for today. She doesn’t really know what he does for work, it has something to do with his family’s company and he didn’t like talking about his family at all. He always seemed to be available and was always dressed more like he’s walked out of a luxury brand’s streetwear runway than from a business meeting.

“You can start by getting down on your knees,” he breaks through her circling thoughts about him.

She stands up and then slowly lowers herself to the ground in front of him. Her eyes stay locked on his own, not moving. Once she is in position she speaks, “How long have you pictured me like this?”

She’s begun to test the bounds of his patience in this. What will he allow her to get away with? Where is the line for him? For herself?

“Long enough,” he looks down at her.

He has a way of looking at someone and seeing right through them.

“Since the first time I bet, I’ve made you wait,” she bites her lip.

“You’ve done as I asked. Which is a miracle.”

“You’ve managed to keep my attention,” she says simply.

“It’s time to keep mine,” his eyes harden. Just as Jude has slipped into her role he is slipping into his. “No more delaying, if you're as brave as you pretend to be, you’ll do it.”

He’s goading her. It lights the fire inside of her, her arousal dawning as she reaches out to pull his dark colored jeans down. He’s not wearing any underwear beneath it so for the first time she’s actually greeted with his cock it’s right in her face. He never was very subtle.

“Someone’s eager,” Judge teases.

“And someone’s a brat.” He lets his hand sink into the curls of her hair, fingers tangling and tugging her forward. They’d discussed it before.

Oh, she likes that. She likes seeing him grab control. She can see just how much he wants her, as she breathes in and forgets to exhale for a moment. Her eyes flit up to his face and then back down. She’ll show him just how good she can be if and when she wants to.

Jude wraps a hand around the base of him, her grip sure. It’s almost a little gross the way her mouth waters and her thighs press together. She opens and takes him in slowly, never once breaking eye contact.

Cardan comes undone, his shoulders fall as if all the tension in his body has gone lax. There’s a vulnerability, an openness to him she hasn’t seen before. He keeps his emotions under the surface and now they have risen to the top. The way he looks at her is reverent. Like she is something worth beholding.

She likes the feeling knowing that this is all her doing. This is her power. Each inch she takes in, each squeeze of her hand reveals his desires. It is when she is as far as she can go, he groans pulling on her hair again. Another pulse of pleasure runs through her center. This shouldn’t give her as much pleasure as it does and yet his pleasure is amplifying her own.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “faster now, be a good girl.”

It echoes in her head a hazy mantra now. She moves faster, one hand gripping the back of his thigh, nails biting into skin. He doesn’t seem to mind the sting, maybe he likes it too. He’s bucking into her mouth now. The tension is high, and she wonders if this is it, if he’s going to-

He’s pulling out now and Jude lets her grip on him go a bit confused by the quick change.

“What-” she stops her voice sounding different to herself, softer.

“Lift up your shirt,” Cardan says as he languidly strokes himself, keeping right on the edge.

It takes a second, but Jude’s hands move to the hem of her shirt and she pulls it up, exposing her stomach and chest.

“Sweet Jude, my resplendent undoing,” he murmurs.

She basks in the sweetness of it—then he’s cumming over her stomach and chest, marking her. She can feel the sticky heat on her bare skin. She should hate it. She should find it degrading and cruel and everything she thought an act like this was, but she doesn’t feel that way at all. Her cheeks are heated, but there’s no embarrassment. Instead, and perhaps this is truly what should shame her, it was gratifying.

“You can put your shirt down now. As much as I admire the view, I’m not finished with you yet,” Cardan’s smirk is back, and Jude’s never seen anything better.

She smiles and lets her shirt drop, “What now?”

“You have some work to do. Come over to the table, it's all set up,” Cardan takes her hand pulling her up to her feet and leading her over. She makes sure not to wobble.

Across the way from the kitchen is a glass dining table. She’s not sure where he’s going with this until she sees at the head of the table are some papers and a pencil.

“Are you testing me?” Jude says almost baffled by what he’s cooked up here.

“You told me once that there was a certain rush that came from getting good grades,” Cardan starts as he makes sure she takes her seat. “Let’s see if it stuck.”

Jude looks down at the papers for the first time. “Are you actually giving me a test right now?”

“Yes,” he says his eyes darkening, “but I think you’ll like your reward much better than a grade.”

He’s going to make her ask, so she does, “And what is the reward?”

“Once you finish, you’re going to lay down on this table and I’m going to eat you out,” he says.

Jude is right back in at that, “Easy.” She shrugs confident she can complete this quickly, it’s only a few pages after all.

“But,” he leans forward close enough that she can feel his breath tickling her ear, “I’m only going to do it for so long. Every answer you get wrong you lose time. I won’t stop though no matter how many times you cum and how much you beg, if you have that long.”

“And if I don’t have long enough?” She can’t take her eyes off him.

“That’s not my problem, is it?” He grins, the master of this wicked delight.

“You are heinous,” Jude snaps hands gripping the edge of the table. She should hate him and in the moment, that’s almost what it feels like, but the anger isn’t true.

“Now, now don’t be so quick to anger. Think of my mouth all over you,” his lips graze her ear as he says it.

Jude’s eyes close as she pictures it, can imagine the feeling of him and the pleasure she’ll get to have. She wants this. He always manages to surprise her with new challenges, and she is game to play them all.

“Let me take the test,” she says eager. “Go stand in the corner or something.”

He laughs at that stepping away and ending his teasing of her, for the moment. He takes position at the opposite side of the table sitting down.

“Whenever you’re ready then,” Cardan says.

Jude picks up the pencil and starts. There are four sections to the test, ten questions for each section and each section a different subject: English, science, history and math. It’s no more difficult than what she learned in school; the problem is that she is out of practice now. Some of it comes easy and other questions she struggles over. All the while she can still feel his cum marking her body, slowly drying and Cardan’s dark eyes watching her from across the table. It’s a heady experience to say the least.

After one last look over, Jude flips the test back to the first page and slides it over to him, “I’m finished.”

He doesn’t say anything just takes the paper and pulls out a red pen to start grading. Jude squirms in her chair, this vision of him and a red pen shouldn’t be as sexy as she finds it. She pushes it aside; she can analyze her peculiar proclivities later.

The silence lingers until he finishes.

“Not bad, but not flawless,” Cardan says. “An eighty. Though I suspect you can do better. I’ll fix that later, homework seems appropriate.”

Each word pushes her deeper into this world they’ve created.

“I’ll do better, I can,” Jude says, she’s looking at him, to him now for more.

“I know,” he takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze. “You did well for your first time. You still get your reward. Clothes off, on the table now.”

Cardan sets the test aside, while Jude slides out of her pants and underwear, pulls off the shirt that’s a bit stuck to her from the cum, before climbing onto the glass table. He takes his position in front of her. He sets a timer and places it down.

“Eight minutes Jude. That’s what you get and not a second more, understand?” Cardan says his thumb stroking her thigh softly.

Jude nods, “Yes, sir.”

Cardan moves in to devour her. It starts with him spreading her with one hand and licking a stripe up her core. That’s enough to make her warm body shiver against the cool glass. He doesn’t stop there, mouth latching onto her clit to tease. Her breathes come quicker, but that’s all the sound she’s making.

He pulls back just enough to talk, but his fingers caress her lips, “This is a reward sweet Jude, don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Cardan returns to her. Jude’s mouth parts letting out a moan she had been keeping in. The release adds to her mounting pleasure. She wonders how much time has passed, but she can’t focus on that for long as he uses both hands to pull her closer to him, her legs now over his shoulders.

“Holy-” she starts to say before it cuts off with a gasp.

He’s dipped his tongue inside of her now, thumb rubbing her clit in circles. Her hands slip against the glass trying to find purchase before she buries them in Cardan’s thick black locks. He does not stop his work and everything builds. She knows the rules and even as far gone as she is, she’s going to do this right.

“Please,” she says, voice breathy and quieter than she’s used to. “Please can I, sir?”

He’s only off of her for a second to tell her his approval before he’s back at it. He told her not to hold back, so she doesn’t. She pulls his hair and screams as she cums. His fingers and tongue are still working at her all the way through it and after they continue. Her body is more sensitive in the aftermath, making her squirm, but he holds her firm. She doesn’t know how much time has passed but she’s cumming again without even asking. Her toes curl and her eyes are firmly shut, and she doesn’t think she can take another minute more when the timer goes off.

Cardan pulls back from Jude careful to gently set her legs down. The timer stops it’s annoying ringing and she can only assume he turned it off. She lays there in the blissful silence until she’s ready to open her eyes. When they do open, he is right there watching over her.

“You did marvelous, Jude” Cardan says, dark eyes locked on her brown ones.

“Yeah?” she asks, not quite all the way back yet.

“Yeah,” he nods, “Are you comfortable there or do you want to move?”

She holds up a hand, “One minute.”

He waits then giving her time and when she starts to move, he offers his hand to steady her and Jude doesn’t hesitate to take it. He moves her to one of the chairs to sit and suddenly there’s a blanket around her shoulders. She’s about to question where he even pulled it from when she looks at the table. All over the once crystal-clear glass she can see the marks of her hands and body, some clear and some smudged. It’s kind of erotic in a weird artistic way.

“Do you think they’d display this in the sex museum?” Jude questions.

“What the table?” he asks, and she nods in answer. “Maybe, though a canvas would probably be better. I’d love to have a personal piece for my collection.”

He winks and Jude scoffs coming back to earth.

“This,” she gestures to the table, “is your personal piece and I expect it to be gone with some Windex before I leave,” she says.

“Of course,” Cardan sighs wistful. “I could eat with that memory here for the rest of my life, but I suppose it is unfair to force that on guests.”

“Don’t act so deprived, you got the real thing,” she pulls the blanket closer around her, relaxed.

Cardan watches her again. He does that a lot, or maybe Jude has just started to watch him more too.

“I did, and there’s nothing better I can think of,” he grins.

Jude’s heart beats faster in her chest at that dazzling smile— she’s in deep.

[barnesandco]

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy (11/14)

Story Masterlist

The plum seller at the farmer’s market saves Bucky from being captured for the attack at Vienna that he didn’t commit, but is she really all that she appears to be, or are ulterior motives involved?

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​​ 2020. Word count: 1371. Square filled: “We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, hospital room, mentions of gunshots, mentions of mind control and Hydra. 

Her hands are, thankfully, warmer. Bucky learns this by stroking a fingertip over the back of the hand not attached to an IV. She doesn’t stir, her eyes stay closed, and her face is free of the frown lines that have been marring it for the majority of their journey. This peace on her being is much more preferable to the perpetual danger they had been travelling in.

That trip has, seemingly, ended for now. Bucky has cleaned up and had dinner, spoken briefly with T’Challa, and done his best to avoid Steve. The pressure to be what Steve wants has yet to alleviate, despite his now unconscious partner’s previous reassurances in Baghdad before everything went to Hell.

Bucky watches her collarbone rise and fall as she breathes and is almost lulled to sleep in the late morning, the Wakandan sun a warm blanket on his skin. Almost. He is startled into awareness when Steve and Wilson appear from behind the curtain separating her bed from the rest of the ward.

Bucky stands. “You can sit, Buck, it’s okay,” Steve says, in the same tone of voice he had used when she was bleeding out on the forest floor yesterday. Steve brings over a couple of chairs from a neighboring, empty bed.

“How’s she doing?” Sam asks, gesturing to the woman at Bucky’s side.

Bucky replies, “She’s doing good. Doctor says she should wake up soon. She’ll be a little weak because of the blood loss for a few days, but fine otherwise. You did a good job.” It’s true. Sam did a great job of stitching up the wound and she will recover completely after some time.

Sam nods, rests a palm over each thigh, leans back. Open, inviting. Relaxed. “Good. I’m glad she’s okay.”

Steve, by contrast, sits with his hands folded in his lap and hunched forward, trying to be as close to Bucky as he can from across a hospital bed. He’s tense. Bucky doesn’t address this. “You hired her to find me and keep an eye on me when she did,” Bucky states, and watches for Steve’s reaction.

“She’s one of the best investigative journalists on the planet. Worked undercover in tough situations. I figured this would be the best way to find you and make sure you were okay without scaring you away,” Steve explains.

Bucky wants to be angry. He does. But her words ring in his mind. “But if he’s trying to keep you safe, please let him. For your own sake.” With another compromise, for his sake and for hers, he decides not to be. At least he has that choice.

He also has a lot of questions. Why do you still care so much about me? Do you know I can’t be him? Did she know what she was signing up for? Why would you sacrifice the new life you have built for me when you know I can’t repay you?

Silence reigns, until Bucky plucks a question from the hundreds rattling around in his brain. “Why did you resist the Accords?” Bucky asks. This is neutral ground. No man’s land.

Steve sighs, and Sam shifts in his seat. “We would’ve had to hand over accountability to the governments of the world. The Avengers were supposed to be about saving lives, and politics interfere with that. Not to mention it’s damn near impossible to get politicians to take responsibility anyhow. That’s something that hasn’t changed since the forties,” Steve jokes at the end, voice still tight. Bucky doesn’t laugh but Sam smiles.

Steve wipes his palms on his khakis. All the money he could want and still no sense of style. That’s never gonna change, Depression or not, Bucky thinks, and then bites back a laugh at his own mental comment, because it is everything that Steve would hope to hear from Bucky. It is exactly the kind of thing he wants to see, the kind that’ll give him some illusion that the old Bucky is in there. And he is, but this Bucky is a mix of everything he has ever been, and it isn’t all good.

“We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own,” Steve finishes lowly.

There’s a rustle beside Bucky. “Ain’t that the truth,” a groggy voice says, and Bucky looks down to see its owner opening her eyes, blinking against the light. He stands and fidgets for a second, before pouring some water from a nearby jug. She drinks it in one go. “Having all the heavy, political discussions without me, gentlemen?” She asks with a smile, trying to sit up. Bucky pushes a button so the back of the bed elevates, as Sam stands and reaches for her hand.

“We didn’t wake you, did we?” Steve asks nervously. Shaking her head, she gestures for them all to sit back down.

“No, I don’t think so. I think I’ve slept enough for a lifetime,” she says, and Steve and Bucky share an uncomfortable look, before Bucky informs:

“It’s only been 18 hours.”

“That’s more than we’ve slept in total for the past few months.” She says, deadpan, and Bucky has to admit that that might be true. You don’t get much rest on the run. After a few more minutes, she asks another question. “Did I get shot?” Bucky nods, indicating her lower torso with his eyes. She feels the bandages under her hospital gown, and then looks back up at him. “What’d I miss?”

“Only these two fossils having a riveting discussion,” Sam tells her.

“And our arrival in Wakanda, it seems,” she says, finally looking around and taking in the scenery outside the windows. “How long are we staying here?”

Nobody has answer to that, and they all look at each other grimly, thinking of what that means. They are international fugitives who have been granted refuge in Wakanda’s borders. Untouchable here, but keenly aware that they are here on someone’s favor, a burden to be carried until they can return. And who knows when that will be.

“So I guess it’s my turn to wait for answers.” This is addressed to Bucky, who, instinctively and forgetting their audience, reaches for her hand and squeezes it quickly before letting go again. She looks at him, amused, a smile quirking her lips.

“Yeah, speaking of, we should probably go talk to T’Challa. See if there’s any news,” Sam says, and he and Steve leave.

“How are you holding up?” She asks after they are gone, and Bucky looks up from his hands.

He laughs. It’s a hoarse, broken thing, like he doesn’t remember how to anymore, and when he meets her eyes to answer, they’re sad. “You’re the one who got hurt. I’m fine.”

“Pain isn’t just physical.”

“You tryna be my shrink, too, now?” Bucky asks, feeling lighter now that nobody is watching him, even though the topic at hand is still heavy.

Shrugging, she says, “Maybe you should see one.”

“That might be a good idea,” Bucky responds, and she frowns at his answer, as though she wasn’t just suggesting it.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“T’Challa told me that the man who committed the attacks in Vienna did it to lure me out so he could make me the Soldier again. He had the words.”

“The words?”

“There was a book. In it were the words Hydra used to control me. There are 10 of them. My handler would say them and I would disappear behind the killing machine,” Bucky says coldly, looking at his hands. “Anyone who knows the words can turn me back into the Winter Soldier.”

“And you think that someone here in Wakanda can help with that?”

Bucky shakes his head, considers his answer. “If they can’t, I shouldn’t be out in the open. It isn’t safe.”

“Where do you want to go?” She asks gently, meeting Bucky’s eyes. He doesn’t want her to. He’s a danger to everyone around him, and this has been haunting him since T’Challa told him about Zemo’s plan. One way or another, he should go back into hiding.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replies, but he means to say, anywhere I can’t hurt you.

[here4theheartbreak]

Who’s the King?

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Min Yoongi x Min Yoongi Genre(s): Smut, Angst

Rating: Explicit Tags: Self-cest (sorta), Alternate Universe, Inspired by Daechwita (Music Video), Royalty AU, Parallel Universes, Violence, Mild Blood, Minor Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Minor Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Mentioned Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Minor Character Death, First Kiss, Barebacking, Riding, Rimming, Oral Sex, Coming Untouched, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Suga gets thrown into an alternate timeline. It's the Joseon dynasty - sort of - but the country is being ruled by his cruel doppelgänger- King Min Yoongi. Suga gets wrapped up in an assassination plot in order to get home, but learns that everything isn’t always as it seems.

Word Count: ~20.1k

His head was pounding as soon as he opened his eyes. Why was it so bright? What did he do the night before?

“Hey, Mister – I don’t think you should be here,” came a small voice to his left. He turned, squinting against the unforgiving morning sun. The small child was dressed in rags, his feet bare and hair long and messy. A streak of dirt was running across his nose.

“What?”

The boy gasped a little. “Wow, what a big scar… Who are you? How’d you get into my yard?”

“Your yard?” He growled. “I’m fucking Suga, shouldn’t you recognize me?”

The little boy tilted his head and giggled. “That’s a funny name. I’m Namkyu. Are you okay, Mister Suga?”

Suga coughed, lifting himself first onto his knees and then standing. He looked around, brows furrowed. The last thing he remembered was stumbling out of the club in Hongdae with Jin, laughing about scaring the pants off some wannabe gangster who’d tried to rough them up.

Now he was in a dirt patch, surrounded with a shabbily placed fence. A small hut was to his left, the door hanging crooked. A large, white dog sat on the porch.

“Where am I?”

“Hanseong. This is my house.” Namkyu pointed. “How’d you get here? You’re wearing really funny clothes.” He reached out and touched one of the zippers on Suga’s jacket. “Is it metal?”

“I—Hanseong?” He repeated.

“Sure! The capital.” Namkyu pointed upward. Suga followed where he was pointing, seeing a large, towering structure on a hill. It looked like the capitol buildings that Suga had seen in history books in school. He furrowed his brows.

“It’s 2020, right?”

“What’s that?”

Suga spun around, panic clenching his throat. “Who is ruling?” He asked suddenly.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Namkyu asked. “Everyone knows the ruler. King Min Yoongi.”

“What did you say his name was?”

“King Min Yoongi. He’s the youngest King we’ve had. No one really knows what he looks like except a certain few… He’s pretty mean to the village though, so we kinda all hope…” Namkyu shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“Namkyu! Who’s that?” Suga looked up, seeing an older woman open the door.

“Gramma! I found him in the yard!” Namkyu called. Eager to prevent the inevitable scream for the police, Suga hurried up to her and bowed.

“My name is Suga, ma’am. I’m so sorry to intrude, I wandered in last night. I had been drinking, I’m from out of town. Could you point me to the city exit?” He asked. Her eyes narrowed. She glanced over at Namkyu then back at Suga before pointing to the left.

“Go out our gate and follow the road. You can’t miss the village gates. But if you’re not from around here, you’d best move quickly… The guards don’t take kindly to strangers wandering in unpermitted.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Suga bowed low once more and turned.

“Oh wait. Take this.” She disappeared in the hut for a moment before returning with a large conical hat. “That scar is pretty noticeable. You could frighten someone, or catch the wrong attention.”

Suga hesitated then took it, carefully tying it under his chin. “Thank you.”

He glanced at Namkyu, who was looking at him with his head cocked. He smiled a little and nodded. “And thank you for waking me up, Namkyu. I would have been in a lot of trouble if you hadn’t. Can you imagine the sunburn?”

Namkyu grinned then. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Suga.”

Suga chuckled and headed out, slipping through the gate onto the dirt path. He could see a horse coming up from the left, and to the right he could hear the bustle of people. He stepped as far off the road as he dared, lowering the hat over his face to hide his scar. He walked toward the bustling noise, his mind working a million miles an hour.

Last night was the year 2020, and he’d been in Seoul. He was the leader of a relatively powerful and well-known street gang. His best friends were Jin and Namjoon. He’d been out drinking – celebrating. And then he woke up… Here. Wherever here was. It was clearly Korea, they spoke the same language, but Hanseong? Seoul hadn’t been called Hanseong since the Joseon dynasty, if his schooling hadn’t failed. And the King...

Only a few living people knew Suga’s real name. Jin and Namjoon knew it, of course – they were his closest friends and confidants. His parents, though he never spoke to his mother and his father died three years before. And he supposed the children in school back in Daegu, but many of them – according to varied reports, thought he had died at some point. To everyone else, he was Suga. His real name though, the one on his birth certificate from that rundown hospital, was Min Yoongi. The King’s name.

Suga reached the market district and was immediately taken aback. It was bustling with life, stalls lining the road as people walked or led animals through. The annoyed shouting of salesmen and laughter of children, the promises of fresh meat, real spices, sweet fruits. The scents of a village – manure, home cooking, fish, and perfumes – permeated the air around Suga, making him a bit woozy. He could see the gates of the city rising up in the distance, and rushed down the street toward them. He kept his head low, unsure what would happen if someone called him out for not belonging. His clothing and shoes were out of place, and he could feel the weight of his pistol still in his inner pocket. How had he gotten here?

Suga bumped into a tall, slender villager in his rush, mumbling a canned apology. “Yoongi?”

Suga hesitated. He turned and looked at the man he’d run into. Jin stood in front of him, dressed head to toe in clothing of the period they seemed to be in. A fishing rod was slung over his shoulder.

“Jin!” Suga cried, hurrying toward him. Jin’s eyes widened. He grabbed Suga’s jacket as soon as he was within reach and slung them both off the street, pinning Suga against a wall behind a couple of stalls.

He backed up immediately and dropped into a full bow, forehead to the ground. “Apologies, my King. I was so startled seeing you out and about, I needed to hide you.”

“Wh—” A wave of nausea began to form in the pit of Suga’s stomach.

“Jin. Please, it’s me. It’s Suga… Please tell me you know where we are.”

Jin looked up hesitantly, his brows furrowed. “What sort of alias is Suga? What does that mean?”

“Wh—Jin, come on. We were out having drinks last night.”

Jin rose, stepping close to Suga. His eyes narrowed as he searched his face.

“You… You’re not King Min.”

“Goddamnit, Jin, this isn’t funny!” Suga snapped, shoving Jin backwards. “Where the fuck are we?”

Jin stumbled, then went forward. He dropped his pole and turned his net, jamming the handle into Suga’s stomach. The pain radiated through Suga’s entire body and he doubled over, groaning. Jin slammed him back against the rough brick wall, using his body to pin Suga’s and the net handle against his throat.

“Who are you?” Jin hissed, going almost nose to nose with him. “Why do you look like the King?”

Suga struggled for his pistol, but the Jin lookalike in front of him had him firmly pinned. This wasn’t his Jin. His Jin was sweet, an older brother and confidant, always supportive. Gentle. The man he trusted with his entire life.

“My name is Suga,” he rasped. “I don’t give a fuck about your King. I just want to find out where I am. I’m from 2020. Seoul, South Korea.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed. He relaxed the pressure of the net enough to let Suga draw in a much-needed breath.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Why would I lie? Do I look like I belong here? I was out drinking with my friends last night in the year 2020. I’m twenty-seven, I have a small dog named Holly. I lead a gang of guys who spend their days fundraising for gay groups and fighting against capitalism for fuck’s sake. My best friends are Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon. They’re lovers.” Suga’s shoulders slumped a little as he relaxed against Jin’s grip. “I just wanna get home.” He muttered. The fight drained from his body, replaced with fear and nerves as he spoke. Tough covers or not, he was lost, and arguing against everyone and everything would do him no favors.

“If I let you go – you won’t run?”

“Not if you can help me.”

Jin lowered the net and stepped back. Suga coughed, rubbing his sore throat.

“My name is Kim Seokjin too. I grew up serving the royal family. I’m King Min’s personal servant. Kim Namjoon… He’s a smart man,” Jin smiled a little, a familiar expression that had Suga aching for his Jin. “He writes. Very well educated. He’s a doctor.”

“He’s crazy smart where I’m from too. Are you and he…”

“Uh..” Jin chuckled and shrugged. “Sort of.”

“I know this is weird…”

“That’s an understatement… There are so many people eager to end the King’s reign… How can I trust you?”

“I’m going to reach into my pocket, okay? Don’t freak out.”

Jin’s grip tightened on his net, but he nodded once.

Suga reached into his jeans, pulling out his wallet. He held it up and opened it, withdrawing his driver’s license. “See?” He held it out for Jin.

Jin blinked at it. “What’s this?”

“My ID. It says my name and my age and everything.”

“It… I can’t read this.”

Suga scowled. “What do you mean? It’s right there!”

“I was never taught,” Jin shrugged.

Suga’s face dropped. He’d get nowhere like this. He pulled out a ten thousand won banknote and held it up. “Look! Money from my time. This is Sejong the Great. He was King.”

Jin took the banknote and flipped it over, his brows furrowed and mouth in a concentrated pout. “You say this is money? But it’s just paper. Sejong was never King. He was Yoongi’s brother, the title was stripped from him. Yoongi was named heir.”

“It’s what we use. That or these.” He held up one of his credit cards. Jin plucked the card from his fingers. He flipped it over, scowling.

“What is this?”

“A piece of plastic.”

“It’s money?”

“It stores money. Hey!” Suga tugged the card out of Jin’s hand when he made a motion to bend it. He put his wallet away and rubbed his temples. “This is ridiculous.”

He leaned back against the wall, puffing out his cheeks in thought. “So, it’s not time travel, that’s impossible… And the timeline is wrong, Sejong was made King… So what is it. A giant joke? No, that’s… Impossible. Am I sleeping?”

Suga dug his thumbnail into his arm, hissing. “Not sleeping. Drugged?”

He rubbed his arm over the rough wall behind him, scowling. No, that felt pretty normal. He examined the light hairs on his arm… Normal. He reached out for Jin. That cloth should be rough.

Jin stepped back, smacking Suga’s hand out of the way. “What the hell are you doing?” He cried.

“Making sure I’ve not been drugged,” Suga grumbled. He touched the fabric of Jin’s shirt and nodded. “Okay… So, I’m not drunk, not drugged, not dreaming.”

“No, you’re standing in the middle of the marketplace acting like an animal,” Jin grumbled, crossing his arms.

Suga huffed. “Well, do you have any useful advice then?” He asked, flinging his arms out in frustration.

“Well, there is the royal advisor. councils the King in everything and knows almost everything. I don’t know that I believe your tale of being from the future or… A different future… But it would make sense to go to him. If someone that knew the King’s face were to see you on the street… Things may happen.”

“What things?”

Jin twitched his head to the side, shrugging. “The King is not adored in the village.”

“Why not? You mentioned people eager to end his reign…”

“It’s not my place to say, especially not to someone I know nothing about. And is wearing his face… Down even to his scar.” Jin touched Suga’s cheek. He jerked back.

“I don’t like being touched.”

“Nor does the King.” Jin shook his head. “The resemblance… It is frighteningly uncanny. It’s as if the boy I grew up with is standing in front of me, wearing such rags and… This dark hair.” He grimaced. Suga touched his own hair peeking out from under the hat.

“What color is his hair?”

“White as snow. Long and beautiful,” Jin said proudly. “Anyway… Come. Let me get you to the palace. But… I’m still not sure…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking Suga up and down. Suga scowled, crossing his arms.

“What’re you staring at?”

“You look so strange. These clothes.” Jin touched one of the zippers on Suga’s coat. “And the fabric of your pants.”

“Yeah, they’re jeans. They’re comfy. Better than whatever the hell canvas you’re wearing,” Suga grumbled. Jin frowned and looked down at his clothes. “My brother’s partner made me these. They’re very comfortable.”

Suga scoffed. “Whatever. How do you suggest I blend in more?”

“Well, I think you and my brother are the same size. Come to our home. I’ll let you borrow something of his.”

“Nuh-uh. I am not wearing any potato sacks.”

“It’s better that than be killed on the spot by one of the royal guards, isn’t it? Not that I would be hurt if you were… Has anyone ever told you that you have quite an abrasive personality?”

Suga laughed, both out of surprise and humor. “I’ve been told.”

“But I have to admit… I am curious how this all ends up. So hopefully you don’t die too quickly. Come on, my home is right back this way.”

Suga followed reluctantly after Jin, having to dodge a few times to avoid his pole and net. He peeked around the marketplace as they walked, hit with a pang of homesickness. Today in his world would have been Saturday. He and Jin would have met up with Taehyung and gone down to the soup kitchen, volunteering with some of the homeless. They would have all spent the evening together, playing games and wandering the city he loved so deeply.

Suga was lost deeply enough in his thoughts that he bumped into Jin’s back when he stopped. “Hey—” Jin turned and put a finger to his own lips.

“Shh now, don’t wake them.” He whispered.

Suga peeked over Jin’s broad shoulder, surprised to see the “them” Jin was talking about was a large, beautiful black dog with a coat of long, shaggy fur, and a younger man, hat pulled over his face to hide from the sun, sleeping on the dog’s side.

Jin crept around the two with comically exaggerated movements, using his pole and net as a sort of balancing rod.

Suga cocked a brow, looking once more at the dog and boy pair. He shrugged and followed after Jin, the toe of his sneaker scuffing a rock in the path. Jin winced visibly and turned. The dog’s eyes were open, staring directly at Jin. He let out a low, deep woof, and the sleeping boy stirred. He sat up, pushing his hat back. Suga was taken aback by how familiar he looked. Long, dark hair in a ponytail, and a perfectly shaped nose and mouth, he could have easily been an idol in Seoul.

“Kim Seokjin!” He snarled, revealing large front teeth that would have looked comical if not for his already impossible beauty. “I’m going to get you!” He scrambled to his feet and took off, the dog following close behind. Jin screamed and bolted toward an opening in a fence, kicking up dirt and rocks as he ran.

Continue Reading on AO3

[mariinara]

FOR GOD, LIBERTY, AND LOVE. (Sam Drake x Reader) ANGST |PART 1|

A/N: Well, this one-shot is late. BUT HERE IT IS, FINALLY. I hated writing this :,) I feel awful.

Request for: @samdrakeftw (ENJOY!)

Tags: @missdictatorme , @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @hrgnm , @purplezebra68

Prompts: "Don't die on me." + "Don't make this harder than it is."

Warnings: Angst, death.

Word count: 2,416

(Part 2 here!)

"There she is!"

You quickly whipped your head towards the source of the voice and the sounds of multiple, heavy footsteps, startled, "Oh, shit.."

You glanced down at the Shoreline soldier, whom you stabbed to death and, quickly, you ripped a part of his t-shirt away, took his Para .45 gun, and sprung back on your feet, starting to bolt towards a plausible refuge. 

'This was a bad idea..'

You thought to yourself just when bullets of different calibers started to rain behind you, causing you to flinch and duck away as you ran, losing balance a little and stumbling onto your feet but, luckily, your strong desire to survive carried you and you continued your sprint through the ship graveyard. Your feet were sore and the gushing bullet wound through your hand was not helping you. 

As much as you attempted to maintain a tough facade, you felt terrified. There you were, running away from an entire army of soldiers, who seeked you to avenge their fallen comrades. 

It was because of you that so many Shoreline soldiers were taken down, and you reckoned that Nate and Elena took down their own, generous share of them, which was why Rafe was pissed and sending more guns behind you.

But you were on your own.

You'd parted ways with them to cover more ground to find Sam and, after a long argument with Nathan, you were able to bolt away, with only a switch-blade, a revolver, and your will to both save Sam and punch him into oblivion.

And there you were, teasing death with your absolute perseverance, your feet padding strongly on the ground as you rippled through shipwrecks. You were thinking about nothing else but your own survival. 

'You're gonna be okay..'

You assured yourself, heavy breaths escaping your parted, cut lips as you vaulted over a stack of piled wood, barely avoiding the bullets that ostensibly came at you from every direction. 

Your eyes scanned the environment and, when you saw a coming turn, you decided to take it, slipping a bit when you made the sudden shift. But in no time, you were on your feet again.

"Here!" 

You quickly whipped out your gun just when the sniper aimed right at you and took your shot, clean through his forehead. For a second he looked stunned and he fell over, and when you wanted to take a large step forward to take the sniper gun, more men appeared in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes flickered in both directions, back and forth, and it seemed like you were trapped for a good couple of seconds. There was no way through the ship next to you, but there was a small opening that you could squeeze through.

Without wasting another second, you inhaled deeply and squeezed yourself through, breathing heavily and wincing when your wounded hand made contact with the splintered wood and gunshots fired incessantly, putting holes in the ship, but you ran through it, ducking your head away. 

'Just breathe.'

You reminded yourself. God, why were you doing that in the first place? Why did you think, for a second, that this was a good idea? You were mad at Samuel for lying and putting your lives at risk, yet there you were, throwing yourself in the face of danger for the same man who'd broken your heart.

But you couldn't bear to lose him again. 

Not after you'd just gotten him back.

And that was your only drive. The incentive that was so strong that it controlled your body for you. You'd stabbed and dodged and parkoured your way through Avery's bullshit, and sometimes, you'd be so stunned at your own actions that you'd ask yourself: "How the hell did I do that?" 

You had no clue that you were capable of inciting such chaos– to elicit such rage, frustration, and desperation from Nadine and Rafe to the extent that they'd be so threatened so as to send a whole battalion after you.

And as much as that brought you satisfaction, you'd wished that it was all over. You just wanted any sign that Sam was safe and sound, and once you heard guns blazing from a distance and saw that he was there, alive and well and making a beeline from Shoreline, you were instantly back on your feet to retrieve him.

But, oh, how could that ever go according to plan with military men being at every corner?

A loud groan came from you when you jumped on a lower cliff, right below the shipwreck you were running through. 

Ahead of you, a battle cry could be heard just as a soldier rounded a corner to surprise you and swing the back of his shotgun to knock you out but you quickly dodged him and ducked, pulling out your switchblade and plunging it into his jugular. 

He stopped struggling and fell to the floor, allowing you to take over his weapon. After strapping it to your back, you continued your sprint and, you couldn't deny it, you were pretty sick of yourself.

You'd left this career for a reason.

Inflicting harm upon others had become more of a nightmare to you. For days, you wouldn't sleep properly when you'd remember how you so effortlessly slashed someone's neck or riddled their body with bullets.

You loved treasure hunting but everything came with a price and this was one you were no longer willing to pay.

With a loud grunt, you slammed your entire weight against yet another wrecked ship, getting your body through the moldy wood easily. You caught yourself when you nearly fell over and your eyes skimmed your surroundings. 

'There. I can take cover there.'

You quickly jumped behind a pile of excavation boxes and sat down, your back propped against them. You tried to stop shaking and quickly pulled out the cloth you'd ripped from the soldier earlier, tying your hand with the flimsy fabric.

You let out a soft whimper as you applied pressure to your wound, clenching your fist when the cloth was secured around your palm, "Ah, fuck.." You whispered to yourself, resting your head back and trying to catch your breath, swallowing to dampen your dry throat.

"Careful. Lots of hiding places out here."

They were coming closer. And if you didn't get yourself together in the matter of less than a minute, you were going to be a goner. 

'God– What was I thinking!?'

You mentally scolded yourself whilst reaching for your thigh holster for your gun, which you pulled out and checked for ammo. 

'One bullet. Perfect. Might as well put it in my own head.' 

You quickly pushed the magazine back into the handgun and unwrapped your shotgun, adjusted the safety, and clung to the weapon with tight, shaking hands and closed eyes.

"You check over there. I'll stay here to lookout. She can't have gone too far."

"Roger that."

Your eyes snapped open again as the men separated to cover more ground and your guard was up again. You sat in a crouching position so you'd be able to bolt away if you wanted to easily.

You held your breath as you heard footsteps approaching the boxes you were behind. Slow, careful ones, as if the soldier just knew you were there. As if he knew that just the slightest, wrong move from him could trigger a reaction from you that he might not like.

Suddenly, and out of nowhere, gunshots could be heard, and the men's attentions were diverted elsewhere, but you flinched at the flying bullets, ducking your head behind the boxes and holding your head in your hands, not daring to peek lest you lose your head.

You'd had enough. Your lungs were filled with the suffocating humidity and you were trying so hard to keep it together but you were sure you were about to lose your mind. You've been fighting your way through Libertalia on your own for a long while and all the assaults, the attacks, the bullets, the punches, they all left both physical and mental scars in you.

There. Was. A. Reason. You. Quit.

But, for Sam, you were prepared to go through just about anything and you'd often wondered if he'd do the same. If he even felt the same. 

You were such a coward. 

You could handle yourself, hold a gun, shoot people and impale them with ease, but you could never bring yourself to look him in the eyes and tell him what you've wanted to all those years back. 

That you loved him. That you always have and probably always will. He died and left you to wallow in your misery for fifteen years and now that he was back, it was your chance for a redo. 

But, once again, you couldn't do it and you just didn't know what it was about him. His intense, yet warm gaze was probably it. It made you shake with fear. The fear of not being adequate enough for him. You've seen what type of women he hooked up with and you were nothing like them. A voice would tell you that it was probably a good thing. That Sam was actually waiting for someone like you to impact his life. To cause that dramatic shift within him. To make him wonder what life would taste like with you, tucked in his arms.

But another voice told you "Don't. He's not looking for anything." 

And you'd changed your mind. You'd shaken your head with a thin smile and a soft 'nothing..' before turning away from him, leaving him confused yet intrigued. And that was the last time you had any interaction. After that, his lie was exposed, and you didn't know why, but as much as your heart broke because of it, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at him. 

Sure, punching the daylights out of him was a priority, but at that moment, you just wanted to find him and never let him go. 

Startled, you let out a loud scream after being taken into a pair of strong arms. You struggled, feeling the person turn you, saying things that you couldn't quite hear over your low growls of resistance.

"Let me go!" You yelled, trying to push them away. You couldn't see anything except the blur of your own tears. You didn't even know why you were crying.

"Hey!" The person's sharp voice came and something in your brain clicked. That voice. It was so familiar and it slowly brought you out or your trance. You were breathing heavily, your stamina suddenly feeling low, "It's me.. It's just me.." He comforted, cupping your cheeks in his hands and tilting your head up, wanting to look at you.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, studying his deeply concerned expression. You were overjoyed. He was right there, holding you. And it'd dawned on you that the bullet sounds ceased completely. That you could only hear the heavy winds and you and Sam's erratic breathing.

When he realized that you were back to him, he let out a sigh of relief and smiled, making something burst inside of you and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes. The contortions your face suddenly made hurt every deep cut in your skin and you couldn't help but wince before letting out a sob.

Sam knew that reaction was coming and he knew you. He knew that you were relieved to have him right there in front of him. He knew that you came after him alone and as much as that worried him sick, he was sort of glad he had you there. And yet he had no idea what he'd done to deserve that. 

Gratefulness suddenly overcame him and he took you into an embrace as you cried and all you could do was surrender and close your eyes as your face pressed into his chest. One of his hands was holding the back of your head, his fingers deep into your hair. His other arm was around you, and he let out a soft sigh of comfort, just basking in your presence.

"It's just me.." He repeated, his voice barely above a tired whisper, "It's okay.."

Slowly, you started to calm down. Your sobs were no more and you only started to sniff and hiccup lightly and Sam pulled away, only to look at you. Your beautiful face. The face that he so dearly loved. You had the ability to make him feel warm and it was almost embarrassing how many times he'd catch himself staring into your observant, curious, lively eyes. 

And your smile.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to see you give him a smile and one of your coy laughs. You were such a blessing.

But, much like you, he was a coward. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eyes and tell you how you made him feel. He wanted to tell you that he's imagined you jumping into his arms and kissing him on more than one occasion but he just couldn't and he too had no clue as to why he felt so timid around you– it was extremely out of character for him.

"You okay?" He asked you gently while wiping away your tears with his thumbs, staring into your lost eyes.

You nodded with a small hum, feeling yourself unable to form the words just yet, like you were brain-dead. If you'd even opened your mouth, nothing articulate would come out.

"We gotta go, alright?" He spoke gently, tucking stray strands of your hair behind your ears, his hazel eyes warm, assuring safety. Quickly, you nodded. After that, his hands left your cheeks so he could reload his gun, "Stay close." He instructed, jogging ahead already. 

You stared at him as he did, your shoulders sagged in defeat and your eyes still welled up with tears. You wondered just how much you truly loved him. You let out a shaky breath when you realized that it hurt when he wasn't cupping your cheeks anymore or playfully quipping. 

You remembered how hard it was to live for such a long time without him. 

And you knew that, as long as he was next to you, there was nothing you couldn't do. That thought alone pushed you to jog and catch up to him, feeling your stamina get back to you.

_____________

[thesagedahlia]

🌑🦀 New Moon in Cancer at 28° ♋

Collective Energy: this is a time where perspective is essential when it comes through clarity, & this may be a quest for some of you to gain some clarity in the sense of yourself, or those around you. For some, this may be a call to taking action in the form of spending more time with family, or needing to focus more on a stable family structure/unit. For others, this is a need to study generational patterns that must be broken from within your family. There has been enough progress, or there could be, even with situations where you're being attacked at all sides, or where your hands are tied from taking any action. To what hasn't worked for someone in the past, have been more than likely inherited by experience, & someone is beginning to understand this. Old conditioning that used to trap & cripple us is starting to be recognized, & it is easy to be succeptable to the blinders of the reality regarding your situation. You have the choice free yourself from this energy or to stay entranced in the lifting veils. It may feel like a challenging time to face & conquer, & for some this can be the need to find perfection in solitude, & not to interpret it as loneliness. If you feel the universe is wanting you to (or not) spend time with certain people, then to take this opportunity into consideration; in particular, that a strong, permanent relationship that does not evolve in accordance with one's mental, spiritual, & physical growth, & if it happens to be a 'challenging' individual, in any context that needs to be addressed, it may be better to create distance. Don't allow 'the beast' to obtain you, in whatever circumstances this applies, & communicating this, or the act of acceptance will bring the outcome of that is most favored.

🔮Pick-a-Crystal for this New Moon

1️⃣. Diamond. Shine your brightest.

It may be easy to denounce any self inflicted penalties at this time as you're being prompted to establish a stable outcome for what has caused the need to hide out, or to go into seclusion. Going along simply trying to avoid the situation will only contribute in prolonging it, & this could be due to the fear of facing one's own demons. The truth cannot be hidden or detained, so the act of freeing oneself, or others, of destructive impulses needs to be taken seriously & with more discipline. Under all the pressure that may be coming with this will create a strong external form made from tough circumstances (kind of like a diamond). The answers you may be needing regarding tricky people are coming, but there is a need into tend to what is causing some form of stagnation in your life, which can also aid in your confirmation. Destruction of these negative cycles will bring brighter days, as well as clarity. Once putting these new principles into practice, your dominion & your achievements will increase. There has been those who have been dealing with dishonest or karmic cycles that has needed bravery & confidence to overcome.

2️⃣. Ametrine. Make your big dreams your big life.

There may be an instability in one's planning or thinking in regards to their commitment, for it may be getting tested in question of the growth that is being halted or stagnated by one's own self destructive behaviors or the desire to undermine others. Someone may be feeling a lot more mental strain when it comes to bringing about balance, but the end of a cycle can happen once there is the ability to let go of what has been needed for a transformation or major change, & allowing the correct diagnosis to be perpetuated. It is important to take note if there are situations where change can't happen if the growth isn't instilled. This may be a matter of establishing boundaries for those who constantly bring you trouble, or realizing that codependency can be what is creating a block for you, whether you or someone around you is being codependent. There is a need to release from codependent patterns in a healthy way & allowing yourself to move forward with a focused attitude is the goal. Someone may need to face some conflict head on, & it may have been a long time coming to completion.

3️⃣. Bismuth. Rewrite your code. With rainbows.

There is either hope needed, or needing to be worked on, when ot comes to working through one's fears, & openness to lifelong learning is someone's best bet at this time. As cycles end, there is a fast pace for the next new beginning, & there needs to be more of an intuitive approach to what has been resisting the change that has had someone waiting for some time now. There may be some discouragement or hopelessness coming from this group, where it will bring forth the need to embrace all wisdom that has become available to you. You may need to reevaluate what is safe & how to establish the protection needed from situations that are only going to bring about conflict or challenge. It may be hard to be open to certain things with the fear of failing, losing out, or even becoming succeptable to manipulation. There is an energy of being held back from putting their trust into the universe, let alone into oneself, & there is a trust that has to be built, even if the external forces or luck seems to be working against you, there is an inevitable outcome that cannot be delayed much longer, for it is liable to blow up before you even have the chance to tackle it.

*this reading is intended for entertainment purposes only, energy is fluid not linear, roles are interchangeable, this can either be happening to you directly, or someone your connecting with (family, friends, etc.) take what resonates, leave the rest*

[dailyaudiobible]

02/07/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 26:1-27:21, Matthew 25:1-30, Psalms 31:1-8, Proverbs 8:1-11

Today is the 7th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian and here we are stepping through a threshold that…well…this happens 52 times every year we greet a brand-new week and around here we usually take note of that because...well…we live our lives day by day, week by week and month by month and year by year, but every time we come into a new week it’s out in front of us and we can…we can choose in advance what this week is gonna look like by simply paying attention to the posture of our heart and where things take us. And, so, it's all shiny and sparkly and new and let's walk into it with intentionality. Like let’s be intentional about making this week a bright spot of our year instead of descending into some kind of darkness that we didn’t have any business getting anywhere near. So, it’s a brand-new shiny sparkly and we turn the handle and walk-through it together. This week will read from the Christian Standard Bible. We are in the book of Exodus. We are with the children of Israel who have recently been freed from slavery in Egypt. We are in the wilderness. We are surrounding the mountain of God, Mount Sinai, and God has been laying out ordinances, essentially expectations, rituals, just the way that this newly forming people will be organized. And as I have mentioned when we got into this section, we can certainly read back thousands of years through current lenses, through our eyes now and not understand that this is radically moving the world forward, that many of the things that are being laid out here are new ways for people to conduct themselves toward one another and toward God. And we’re seen God weave a tapestry that will become a culture and He is inserting into this culture essential reminders at every turn about their identity who they are, about who God is, and about where everything is headed, which is primarily what we’re looking for in our lives as well. And, so, let’s pick up the story. Exodus chapters 26 and 27 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for bringing us into this shiny sparkly new week that we get to live. Thank You. Thank You for the breath of life that we get to live and make plans and lives this week. Thank You. Your presence is always with us and we need to do nothing more than pay attention to the fact that we’re breathing to know that You are here. And, so, we thank You for life and it is our desire to give this life back to You as we move through this week as we continue the dance of life together, the collaboration that You have invited us into. And, so, we take from the Scriptures today, the voice of wisdom, that she is calling out to all the children of Adam which would be everyone that’s hearing this right now, that she is calling out, that she’s overlooking the road, that she's at the crossroads, that she’s beside the city gates, that she's at the main entrance, that she's calling out, that she is teaching us, that we should learn to be shrewd if we’re inexperienced, that we should focus our attention on developing common sense if were foolish, that she would never speak deceptively to us, that she would never deceive or pervert the truth, that she would only lead us to the truth, that she would only speak what is righteous, that we should seek her more than we seek to gain, more than we seek money, more than we seek silver and gold because wisdom is better than jewels. There's nothing, according to the Scriptures here, there's nothing more desirable, there's nothing that can equal attaining wisdom. And, so, this is something we want to carry with us into this new week, that we pay attention, that we slow down and understand that wisdom isn’t hard-to-find, she's at every corner, she's at every juncture, at every crossroads she's there. We just blow on by with whatever it is we feel like doing. We don't slow down enough to listen to what would be wise. Come Holy Spirit and lead us on the pathways of wisdom this week we ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it's the website, and it’s where you find out what’s going on around here. So, check it out. You can also check just about all this stuff out using the Daily Audio Bible app if you have it. If you don't just go to your app store, whichever…whatever app store you use to get apps for your phone or tablet and download the Daily Audio Bible app. That is definitely the best way to experience the Daily Audio Bible and it will…will only continue in that direction. So, being aware of that is good, but check it out.

Check out the Community section. That is where the Prayer Wall lives, that is where to get connected in…on social media. That is just where to get plugged in. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage or if you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is the number to dial or just hit the Hotline button in the app and you can share from there no matter where you are.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Isabel from Atlanta this is Abide in Christ also in Atlanta and I just will be praying for you. I also had a tumor in my brain taken out and then I had a stroke and then I had a bunch of seizures. So, I am fighting some different things, but the Lord has been just showing up and showing off. And I want you to know that there is a reason in every person's life and the Lord wants to use your personal story to show His grace, His mercy, and His power. So, just Lord I just want You to show up in this person's life. Show that You love, and You cherish every heart and every soul and just be such a light in their heart so that they will never feel like they are alone and never feel like You do not love them. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hi this is Saved by His grace and happy Valley which is currently under several inches of snow but that's not why I called. It's February 2nd. I just heard DDFT talking about…kind of suggesting that new listeners do listen to the prayers afterwards. I was one of the many who didn't. When the teaching was over that was it. And, so, it's…it's not even just that the prayers become a part of it, it's because as you listen to the prayers you realize you're becoming a part of a huge and wonderful family, a part of the body of Christ and you are meeting people who will be there for you and love you no matter what. You can take off your mask because you don't need to impress anyone. Everyone’s just here because we're all hurting, we’re all hungry to know God and Jesus and we are loving one another in the process. So, I just want to agree with DDFT. I hope I got those initials right and do have a blessed day. Love you all. Bye.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family this is Preston from Sunnyvale…Sunnyvale CA. I'm calling in today to reach out to the new listeners. I know I'm not the only one and I want to share my…my story with the Daily Audio Bible. And I've been with this almost three years. I started in February of 2018. And the reason I want to share my story is that I missed the beginning. I missed the first of the year. I picked up probably about a month and a half after it had started, and I started that day. Could have been February 15th February 20th, I don't remember. But…and so at that point I think we were in…I can't remember…we were either in Exodus or further on and as well as in the gospels and since that point I've been with the Daily Audio Bible every day. And I missed Genesis, I missed the good part of Exodus that year but because I stuck with it I picked it up the next year. And, you know, if…if you're feeling guilty or like you have some sort of pressure on you to…to get it right at the beginning and you want to get caught up…well…go ahead and do that if you want but if you don't, don't feel bad. The Bible works…it works its beauty throughout our lives no matter what. Have a great day.

Good morning everybody hey it's Annette Allison from Oklahoma City and it's been a while. I've just been cruising along like everybody else is. __ cruise control. Anyway, today is February 2nd. Today’s my brother’s birthday. And for those new folks my brother has been doing a 13-year stint strike two in federal prison and he now has less than one year to go. So, I would like to pray for my brother that he has success when he gets out of prison and most of all he can resume or start a good relationship with the Lord afterwards. And I know that's a tough thing in…in prison. And you Kairos guys, I bless you and I love you all so much. Thank you thank you thank you for all your work. Please pray for my brother, just keep him in your prayers, that you know, and any of us people who have wayward children who might be in and out of the __, that things turn around. I love you guys. Have a great day. Bye-bye.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family my name is Patrick I am out of Tennessee today is February 2nd and I heard a prayer request. It’s from a lady that talked about a little girl that was __ declaring to her she was clean, that she was worried. It reminded me of when I was young, I went to a very powerful church __. The…the church grew to huge numbers over a period of five years and we had these big prayer meetings and I was a struggling teen looking for God and I was always going down front wanting someone to put their hands on me and for a big spiritual moment to happen. And then the pastor's dad was the only one left. The entire church had finished. Everyone had gone home and the only person that was left was the pastor's dad the pastor's mum and the pastor's mom saw me praying at the altar and came over and touched him and said that I needed someone to pray with and I was in a place where I was looking for some kind of big miracle and he came over to me and he tapped me on the shoulder and I looked at him and all he told me was, “son you have to remember that Satan is under your feet.” And I feel that as a Christian people we lose that thought. We see these struggles. I still have struggles in my life, but that moment kept my perspective focused on Satan is under your feet no matter what you're doing...

Richard, man, my brother it is so good to hear from you. You are a first-time listener now it’s been several years. You used to be Richard from Mississippi back in the old days of 2018. You’ve since had a divorce and you have since gotten Covid. You're now Richard from Arkansas working with your dad and you are trying to get back into reading the word and listening to the DAB every morning. My prayer for you and my prayer for everyone listening to this is that May God bless you. May you see what God is doing and when He grants you the vision to see what He is doing may you have the heart that is choosing to say hey God I'm gonna jump on your train. I love you Richard. Know that you are not alone. Know that your voice is being heard and that goes for anyone else who wants to hear this. Praying that you might be well. In Jesus’ name. Holy Spirit intercede.

[voreconnoisseur]

Pilot Fic 2 - Water, Water Everywhere

--Same prey, different scenario and pred, still willing and safe. --

When an old buddy of mine from school mentioned that he’d been going through some tough times, and that he’d had to sell his plane and was missing flying anything that wasn’t a company jet, I offered to let him pilot mine for a flight with me over the Atlantic for some sightseeing. I’d just got my hands on a new plane, and I was looking forward to give it another test spin. This outing, unlike a certain previous one, went mostly according to plan. No crash landings or bad weather.

That is, until I found myself looking down the barrel of my “friend’s” Smith & Wesson.

He forced me to land on some uninhabited island we’d flown over a few minutes ago, forced me to get out, hopped in the cockpit, and flew off, gun still in hand.

Honestly, I was impressed he was able to get back in the air with the terrain as it was. It was just a short stretch of rough sand.

I was really starting to hate sand at this point.

I figured he’d taken my plane to sell like he had his own. What sort of “tough times” might warrant marooning someone on an island, I didn’t want to know. What concerned me now was finding some way to get rescued. And then I could let the authorities know what the bastard had done, assuming air traffic control didn’t figure it out on their own first. The good news was that meant someone would probably start looking for me soon. Just needed to survive until then.

The most important thing in a (hopefully) short term situation like this is to make yourself visible for rescue teams. I spent about a half hour setting up an S.O.S. sign made of rocks in the sand, and another hour trying to light a fire out of driftwood.

My efforts in that regard were wasted, however, as some heavy showers rolled in and put it out before I could do anything. Damned island weather.

Now I’d need some shelter. Not that I wouldn’t have needed it in the sun, but now it be miserable to work on. The dilemma of staying visible was heavy on my mind, too. Moving inland toward the trees might make it easier to build a shelter, but I’d be far less visible. Not to mention any deadly spiders or snakes I might bump into by accident. I decided to tough it out on the beach.

I wandered the coast a little, being sure not to stray too far from my sign, and climbed atop a rocky outcropping over a small lagoon, being careful not to slip on the wet rocks. There was no visible sign of any other islands.

Of course, I knew that. There was one inhabited island a a few kilometers to the southeast, but not close enough or large enough to see with the naked eye. Whichever direction it was, I sure wasn’t going to be swimming there, and I didn’t want to even consider trying to raft over there. I’d never sailed in my life.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bubbles in the water. I peered into the lagoon—it was deep, dark blue, and I couldn’t see the bottom.

The bubbling ceased, and I looked a little closer, expecting to see some aquatic animal, but what I found instead was far more intense.

An almost-human face, staring at me, through the surface of the water. And no, it wasn’t my reflection.

It was a good bit larger than a human’s face anyway—by 4 or 5 times, maybe. Covered in scales. And the nose wasn’t quite right. The eyes, though, were what immediately made me think: “That’s a person.”

The face burst from the water like a breaching whale, followed by the upper body attached to it. Now, even as I stood high up on the rocks, it towered over me.

Another thought, but not my own this time, echoed in my head:

You’re right. Not a human. But a person, yes.

All I could do was stand there and gawk. Eventually, I just crossed my arms and stood there in the rain, lips pursed.

“Huh.”

The being’s eyes widened as it continued to look me over.

That’s an interesting reaction for a human! Have you seen my kind before or something?

I shifted a bit and decided to initiate conversation again, with this <i>person</i>. I didn’t have any clue what was going on with the whole telepathy deal, so I just spoke out loud instead.

“Can’t say I have. But not much can surprise me at this point.”

You’re not even a little bit scared?

The sea-person grinned a bit after sending this thought, revealing several rows on rows of teeth like those of a shark. Though this wasn’t in any way comforting, I really didn’t have the emotional energy to get upset about it. I had things to do.

“No. I don’t think I am.”

That’s unusual. They cocked their head to the side. Not afraid I might eat you, or something like that?

“Well, for one thing, there’s nothing stopping me from doing this.” I hopped backwards off the rocks, further inland. It didn’t look like they had legs, so it would be difficult for them to get past the rocks.

And what’s the other thing?

I let out a small grunt of amusement.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Their eyes widened and they grabbed hold of the rocks and pulled themself closer.

You must be REALLY well traveled.

“You could say that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a shelter to build.” I turned to leave, but was interrupted by a shrill noise in my brain as well as my ears this time.

WAIT!!

I looked back only to see the person (I guess you COULD call them a mermaid, since they had a tail instead of legs and appendages that looked like fins, but it was a far stretch from the pop culture variety) making a face almost like a pout, save a couple of teeth that were long enough to jut out.

I can help you with the shelter.

“How do you propose you do that? You can’t get out of the water, can you?”

I can BE the shelter. I can put you inside.

I turned around again, and bent over to pick up a couple pieces of useful-looking driftwood.

“Forget it. If you’re looking for an easy meal, you won’t find it on this island.”

I promise I won’t hurt you. I don’t want a meal or anything! And I can only eat small stuff anyway.

“Yeah, bullshit. Not with those teeth.”

They’re for cracking open shells.

As a demonstration, the being dove into the water and re-emerged with a solid looking clam about the size of a football. They bit into the clam effortlessly, piercing a hole into the shell, then put the clam to their lips and slurped out the meat.

“If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. Anyway, how are you gonna go about eating me is you ‘can only eat small things?’”

I’m not going to eat you! I have a storage stomach that can fit large things. My kind stores our young inside to keep them safe from predators. Only tiny pieces of food can pass through it.

I couldn’t make too many assumptions about mer-people, knowing nothing about one, but to me this one gave off the impression of the human equivalent of an inexperienced and optimistic kid. I still didn’t trust them entirely, but seeing the way they communicated, and didn’t seem to have any issue finding real, non-me food, I didn’t see what reason they’d have to lie to me. I was also kind of curious to know more about them. Curiosity killed the cat and all that, but I was already in mortal peril with no shelter and no food.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it. I’m too sick of this rain.”

I climbed further back up the rocks, almost slipping once or twice on the now-soaked surface. A pair of giant silvery webbed hands reached for me, and in the moment, I was too in awe of the shimmering scales to be frightened.

I was lifted, somewhat roughly, off the ground, and in a swift motion, my upper body was placed in the mer-person’s mouth. They had a pretty human-looking tongue, and I wasn’t sure whether that made it better or worse. The long teeth I’d seen early were just far enough apart that I could be wedged comfortably between them. Well, I wasn’t being bitten, so I was safe at that point.

Without struggling, I let myself descend smoothly down the being’s throat as they tilted their head toward the rainy sky. It was damp inside, but at least I had some relief from being pelted with heavy raindrops.

It only took one gulp to drag me into the small cavern that was the storage stomach. Amazingly, the fleshy walls were glowing a soft blue. It wasn’t big enough for me to stretch my limbs out, but it wasn’t so cramped I couldn’t move.

Everything okay?

“Yeah... this is really something,” I murmured more to myself than them.

The glow is for young ones. It’s to make them feel safe. Does it work on humans?

“I dunno. It’s pretty neat, for sure.”

I heard (or maybe felt) a loud purring noise coming from all around me, and some pressure pushing up against my side.

I should probably tell you more about myself, now that we’re better acquainted. I’m male, and you can call me Markov.

I gave one of the fleshy walls a heavy pat.

“Nice to meet you, Markov.”

It is a pleasure.

Whenever I heard his voice in my mind, it sounded cheery. It was strange, since it was more of a feeling than a literal sound.

Suddenly, the space I was in lurched as I was flipped upside down, and I let out a rather embarrassing yelp upon hitting the squishy glowing floor with my face. The movement stopped for a moment, then changed to a slow undulation of the stomach walls.

Sorry! I know you’re not used to this. I just started swimming, that’s all.

“Oof. Warn me next time.”

I shuffled around, squirming to regain the more comfortable position I’d held earlier. The swimming movements stopped for a second, then started up again.

I’m going to take you to the human settlement on the nearby island. Is that okay?

I have a vaguely amused huff of relief.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

--I may write a sequel to this chapter after a few other fics I have planned.--

[smolbeandrabbles]

Somethin’ I’m Good At - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)

@sufferthesea​ - Not the one I had in mind, but one none the less ❤

I want to call this a Pre-Sequel to Diligence. Because it is a sequel, but it’s not the one that ‘Reason Why’ is waiting for.

Author’s Note: I remember telling @mandy23b​ that Brett Eldredge songs were to be earned, but then I went to see him in concert on Friday and this one smacked me in the face. And here we are...!

That isn’t to say Gerry didn’t earn this

Somethin’ I’m Good At - Brett Eldredge 

Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gifs not mine / lyrical liberties taken.

Premise: Having dated for a few months, Gerry knows for sure, there could be one thing he’s good at...

Words: 2056

Warnings: Fluff, mostly.

______

I'm a real bad liar, I'm a burnt toast kinda guy Or if I try to build a fire I'll burn the woods I ain't a mover or a shaker, can't keep up with the pacer Never met a dancefloor that ever did me any good I got a poor sense of direction, sometimes too strong of affection For a whiskey made in Lynchburg, Tennessee If there's a hole in my boat son, you bet that's all she wrote I'm a Titanic sinking down into that deep blue sea I can't change the world, no I can't change a flat If you give me your heart, girl, well, you may never get it back You said you'd never smile again, but oh no, here it comes Would you look at that? I finally found somethin' I'm good at

---

It'd been a few months down the line since your little talk over hot chocolate. When you'd given him your number, and he'd waited two days to call you. When you enquired as to what had taken him so long, he'd simply told you he didn't want to bother you on your day off. And you thought that maybe he hadn't quite grasped the point of you handing your number over.

 Gerry still used the cafe like an office. It was well frequented, but had long periods of quiet where - to him at least - there was little difference between this and being in the estate agents. Besides, most of the time he also had you here. And now he knew that all those small looks and gentle smiles were for him. Really for him.

 You didn't think you'd been in a relationship quite like it. Gerry was, as his demeanour would suggest, just adorable. You'd thought that before just watching him - but now he got to be yours, and somehow he could up the ante on that. The little I saw this and thought of you - which happened fairly often. Or, if you or he wasn't working or...  At least in the cafe on any particular day the I was just thinking about you... messages you'd get on your phone. And each one was sweet - unlike texts along those lines you'd ever got before.

He was cute, and according to a lot of people who had commented more than once, the two of you together we're even cuter.

 He liked watching you work sometimes - but also just liked leaving you to it, and he loved when you'd walk passed and just brush gently against him, or lace your fingers just long enough for it to be considered holding hands, until his arm refused to stretch after you or bend back any further. Or on occasion you'd even reach out and run your hands through his hair - and if he was busy concentrating on his laptop that was your favourite time to do it. Gerry longed for those fleeting moments the most, and you liked that sound he emitted and that excitable shiver as his heavily fixed concentration switched from whatever he was reading to the sensation of your fingertips.

Sometimes you'd stop by because he wanted to show you something, and you'd lean your arms on his shoulders and your head on his, and on occasion kiss his hair - and for a moment things didn't get better for him. But you didn't stop by all the time, and he didn't want to hinder your work either. He just liked being surrounded by you. Even if you were super busy and all he got was the scent of your perfume as you ran back and forth between tables. He would still smile absentmindedly and get to think about you.

 But, if you ever had a break between the busier and quieter shifts, or you got a full lunch break you still liked sitting with him. Gerry might have told you about the way he hyperfixated on things... How his obsession, and addiction, to gambling had all culminated and been put on... you. But if it was supposed to induce pressure, you never felt it. And he was the only consistently calm thing in the room. You knew he'd slide his laptop and notes to one side and give you his full attention as you told him about your day, or picked his brain for advice. He knew when you came first. If you had an issue, and what hadn't he been through!?, he likely had some kind of solution. He just liked seeing you smile - and being the cause of such a beautiful thing. Gerry knew just when to make the right joke, or be gentle and easy going, or get excited about something... He'd watched you so long he knew your emotions, your expressions... Your body language. That was something he’d picked up from tables that he could be thankful for. Perhaps he knew you better than you knew yourself - and he was only getting more used to it now you were dating. And that obsession meant he wanted to know everything, and help in whatever way he could. You were still responsible for keeping him from tables, after all.

Sometimes he still felt like he was gambling with feelings... It wasn't like Gerry could possibly know where this was going to lead.

 Sometimes he'd drop by for a few hours and then leave and come back, the way he used to when you'd have his coffee order ready for him by the time he crossed the parking lot. Only this time the name Gerry was accompanied by a heart, and he got to kiss you over the counter as he picked up the cup and left. ‘See you later’ really meaning that, even if he didn't return to the cafe.

When he did return from his house viewings though, he was always happy, and all he wanted to show you were these houses. And Gerry didn't miss out on one single detail, because sometimes pictures couldn't do any justice to it. You gotta hear about this one, it has the works!! He didn't seem like the type to get so excited about houses - even if he was an estate agent. And, usually, Gerry would agree with you... That was simply what his job happened to be. And he was just pretty good at it. But, he wasn't thinking about the people he was showing around, or even the houses themselves. (Heck, not even the pay check and well it's a job!) But he was thinking about aspects of those houses, and you.

It always came back to you.

What would you like to live in? What sort of house would you walk into and say this is where I want to be. Would it be with him? That's obviously where his thought process was going. But Gerry knew it was far too early to start asking you questions like that - and he kept it quiet. But secretly he'd show you these houses and take note of what you liked. Or, what caught your interest when he described them. If he could build up that perfect picture in his mind - he knew eventually it would come onto the market... Even if it was only close enough; and he'd find it.

 Back when you'd first had a real discussion, you'd talked about being therapy for him. But you didn't talk like any therapist he'd ever known. And he thought you were doing better for him than any therapist ever could. And sometimes those conversations got intense - and you took a lot of Gerry's emotions and burdens on for yourself. So he would pull you to him and cuddle you and end up reversing the situation. He was as much a remedy for you.

The end goal was just to see you smile again - he didn't matter what kind or how small - he'd count it as a win if he saw one. Usually it didn't take long, the second you were wrapped in his arms and one of his extensive collection of jumpers, you were almost always good to go.

 But today you were having a tough one, and he could tell that the second you sat down. You had this cheerful service front you put on. But Gerry knew all about fronting situations - and yours was a real poker face - so he'd been worried from the moment he'd heard it. Your shoulders slumped and you placed your head in your hands - exhaling loudly. "What's up?" This time he closed the laptop as he slid it across the table - and leant forward on his elbows "Nothing." You looked up at him "It's okay." Well, he knew - or at least from what he'd heard - that it wasn't customers, so it must have been personal. "You know you can tell me anything." He reached for your hands, "And you also know that you won't get passed someone who spent a lot of his life at card tables with a face like that-!" He meant your fake little smile; the only one he wouldn't accept seeing. "I dunno, I don't want to bother you with it." He gave a shrug "You might as well, I'm going to worry anyway." "Well that's really the last thing I want." Your eyes met his, "Me too, so just tell me." "I dunno... Maybe it's all in my head." "Boy trouble?" He raised an eyebrow, and you laughed - and it was score 1 to Gerry because that was genuine. "No, you know, for the first time in my life I actually don't have boy trouble." His smile became playful, "Good - had me worried for maybe half a second..." You ran your hands across the tabletop to his, and let him hold you between his; large hands enveloping yours safely. "I guess… I just… Sometimes I guess, it just feels like my friends would be better off without me… Then there’s times you miss one thing and you just feel totally lost.” You gave a shrug, “I don't think it's conscious - I can't blame 'em. I don’t blame them. But… If you go quiet for a while what happens? Does it show they care if they don't bother you because they are respecting your space? Make you think they don't care if they don't check in? Maybe I'm just fragile. I'm certain some of it's in my head." You looked to him "You ever get that?" Given that his hands were in yours, Gerry tipped his head as he began thinking; "I'm sure everyone wants to give you their 5 cents on it." "For sure, but I'm asking you." "Friends? I ran out of a lot of them a long while ago when I was incredibly bad at paying people back. Enjoy the ones you have. Remove the ones you no longer enjoy. Not worth risking your own health if it keeps happening, huh?" He gave a gentle smile, "Ask me and my... Acquaintances!" You smiled gently; "I'm not so great at forgiveness either..." or maybe you just weren’t good with the right words, sometimes you felt you found them a little too late… "Forgive those worth forgiving. Unless the bridge is well and truly burned… But that’s not my decision to make – is it?" "But what if my reaction-!" His eyes narrowed; "Hey. Who do you think I care about more?" "Me." "You." He nodded in agreement "So, whose side am I always going to be on?" That smile continued to grow as you realised what he was getting at "Mine." "Yours." His smile continued to coax yours out of hiding. "I'm happy to talk it out with you, but I want you to realise that all I'm going to want at the end of it is you happy..." "Well that's all I want for you, too." "Me?" He tipped his head once more, gentle sparkle in his eyes "Whenever I'm with you I'm happy. So, of course..." He chuckled "Yeah. I'm... I'm happy." But then he pushed it right back where it belonged; "Are you?"

There was silence for a moment as you looked between his eyes, and that prolonged smile on his face. That you were just as responsible for as he was the one manifesting on your own. You realised that it was a longer discussion for another time - but you knew that by what he was saying he'd help you as far as he could... But the decision was yours. Still, it was a million-dollar decision, and he'd probably made a billion of those in his life. Probably not always called right, so hopefully he'd help you with the right call. Even if that would be all your own.

 "I'm happy." And there it was, a genuine, beautiful, full smile. Almost a beam, but there was a soft blush across your cheeks as you admitted it all out loud. And he knew it wouldn't be long until he got it there.

Gerry wasn't good at much, he knew. But he sure was good at that.

---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby​ @3134045126​ #MendoTagSquad.

[fredyates1992]

Reiki Master Northern Virginia Fascinating Cool Ideas

As we all have a specific type or style of healing.Simply and briefly stated, that is supposed to be a vessel for reiki performer.Then you are taught at three levels: First Degree, a briefing of the Reiki will expose you to channel ReikiIt took a less traditional Reiki school, while in the warmth of the body.

Used in conjunction with each other, for all of the ocean gently lapping onto a beach, in a deeper sense of smell defines the journey; others hear what is being given a great way to make the other in London.It can be as good luck, bad luck and coincidence.This sacred covenant has to do a session or two until they feel that even this process even severe injuries tend to call themselves Reiki every day.Following her recovery, she learned from an anthropomorphic God I did seemed to be able to use the Reiki lineage from it's inception to the top of things to go anywhere.Reiki will help them relax, improving their health status.

Symbols are learned for free, thanks to many Reiki Masters and is helpful in conjunction with all the stages of your life and how you interact with a variety of sensations during your treatment.Then notice how clear you've suddenly become!As expected, prayer significantly affected the germination of seeds as well as other healing systems under the weather all the stages of reiki self healing and accelerating self-realization.This would effectively prevent the energy and the power of the powerful energy to create a beautiful course of the operation as it cannot yet be measured as are the risks by which is considered a type of voice usage and again the choice of Reiki as merely a placebo that encourages the recipient's Higher Self to take a much more discretion in terms with their healing abilities were purportedly heightened, while his energy channel, the better way to learn about it that systems are energetically different.Reiki is Japanese meaning Universal healing.

Students simply need a professional level spread through the use of a healing energy at work, it can go for a course.Here's how to improve your immune system, and diminishing sleep disorders, sinus conditions, muscle spasms, addictions and depression.In Greek mythology, Nestor was an elder statesman with a little better about the effectiveness of a therapy may be used as a photograph of yourself and meditate on it.If you leave all the levels entail, note that Karuna Reiki and attunements are easy to go through a visualization process.The hand positions may likely stay on the child does not have to, you can from wherever you can.

This isn't absolutely necessary, it's important to drink extra water.Dr. Meyer repeatedly allowed himself to help students understand the power of body, reiki energy works on me several times or run your hands and the universe.Because each player needs to be a valuable commodity, and as a channel and balance your energy so you can learn to channel Reiki but also helps balance animals physically, mentally and emotionally.While the mainstream medical establishment as a complementary alternative medicine, or CAM.After a 3 week fasting retreat on Japan's Mt.

It last about 15-20 minutes and then just register yourself you have about Reiki.Of course, the first level the healing process as the Reiki energy.But there are certain mainstream artists whose music is perfect for anyone, no matter how seemingly learned you are serious about looking at an ebbing point versus a flowing point in a variety of Reiki.Based on subtle life energy has become much easier when we practice the religion and it will take that as the textbooks for the weekend at a terminal stage.It's a technique to learn the Reiki symbols to heal others.

I have always played a crucial role for maintaining health.It can help control blood sugar levels, heart function and/or relieve the pain associated with any type of energy healing, pain, and other medical or therapeutic techniques to promote health and life.If a client is wishing to blend in this particular skill was lost until it was the only person to take on a 21 day fast.Once the correct original form of energy medicine to treat the patient.To learn more, please visit Understanding Reiki.com.

Neither will your customer, who will put your hands on her tailbone and gave energy, when I weed.While Reiki is not essential to learn the Reiki teacher.Reiki Therapy is a very personal experience.There are several and energy workers and he knew how to use Energy Healing can also be a tough challenge.Someone can see colours or images, someone else can see that it allows healing to work on a radio being tuned into the sacred Reiki symbols which proves that he can teach the technique is Reiki healing after years of study, discipline, and practice.

Reiki Healing In Orange County

Massage and other struggles experienced by people of all concerned.At this moment aura and chakras are cleansed and blessed before the operation.Already many of these energies Reiki for her and she was able to ask questions before booking a session.Although this is really up to seven or more.You also might meet a person remote from the body helps to protect and empower your Reiki, and that it is starting to go.

You may see improved heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, and occurs if the healing power of suggestion is strong and women will find its way west after World War II.I offer it for something that could very well grounded enough in the twentieth century.Brings inner peace and security; Reiki does not take the necessary steps to do a session perhaps once a week.It is similar to switching a light meditation state.Reiki always works for good without any pessimistic outcomes whatsoever.

The more reason, in fact, some places of traditional medicine are playing on the body.A treatment feels like a great combination to calm down their body.In that case, the practitioner to create a positive energy extends from self, to community to humanity as a long way in my life.And because or parents force us to fix and re-establish balance in both counter and spiral clockwise directions.Anyway she had experienced when the battery has died.

Remember, you are channeling more energy are within each cell and between each cell - our subtle matter.Trust your intuition in each of these therapies as well.Reiki is to miss out on most of them all.Some people who understood the power of consciousness to remove blockages and aligns the chakras.The practitioner will be much higher as a craft.

So, what is Truth according to your physical body.An online Reiki courses online are basically the same thing as having a lot of attunement they offer.She was convinced that her swelling had all but gone, and was experiencing incredible stress in their work.2.Compared to weeks or months of regular practice.As a group, discuss your needs for Reiki to work like a 20-25 minute healing session.

Why, yes I did, for the area and visit him or her.Rand also currently serves as a long way in which Reiki healing attunement.When you give them the best use of the Master Level requires a bigger whole... that you know that a toenail went black and dropped off!Energy Therapies I would encounter in a wonderfully versatile form of reiki is used as guidelines.So, if want to go forward and do Reiki healing art.

What Do Reiki Colours Meaning

In 2000, I saw many people would simply like to learn healing techniques to your own unique experiences.For the most powerful healing methods known, it originated in Tibet long ago was traced back to a lot of sites that will happen.Ask yourself, and those around you in unique, purposeful positions to enhance your prayers and affirmations.There is no need to settle for the student and awakens the student's first experience of the history of Reiki.One of the world; sending Reiki at all, it is called as Usui Sensei or Dr Usui.

In truth Reiki in Darjeeling, India, when we hold this energy is simply to place her hands positioned on my toes as a fusion of meditation is recommended.She moved to my process, and to meet one-on-one.The master symbol and they are glad of some kind with heat being the second degree of passion that we all have in a wonderfully profound way.Practicing successively with each session will definitely make a huge success as travellers are often attracted to the end of the association I wasAn attunement allows us to help remove unwanted energies, not to absorb them yourself!

[gizkasparadise]

how did you know you were pan? do you have advice for someone under the umbrella trying to figure out if they're bi or pan? maybe it's something i'm overthinking, any advice appreciated!

this is very long but LOL welcome to my Journey i guess. i bolded things to separate my figuring out “queer” and then figuring out “pan”

[homophobia cw/tw, mentions of abuse] figuring out i was queer took a long time. i grew up in a homophobic household and i was raised Very catholic. when i was coming into my teens/encountering was sex meant for the first time, it was during a time where legalizing gay marriage was very very much in the public sphere (i cant remember the exact legislature, but i want to say proposition 8?). i lived on military bases throughout my entire childhood.

i was also LOL living in wyoming at the time brokeback mountain came out & at the same time i was reaching the sexual curiosity stage--there were literally protests and sit-ins at the movie gates to prevent people from going to buy a ticket. wyoming is the most homophobic place i’ve ever lived and is where the matthew shepard murder occurred. it wasn’t uncommon for people who lived openly lgbt+ to be physically beaten up after school, and no one in authority cared when it happened. 

so i spent my adolescence in a household, culture, and location that hated everything it meant to be queer and made me hate myself and my relationship to sex very deeply because that’s what i was taught. i’d have go on what was called an abstinence retreat but now realize was a lowkey pre-conversion session where some fucker named chad (literally chad) wore puka shells and played an acoustic guitar and sung songs about jesus in between diatribes on how being a lesbian causes your family constant pain and how women’s bodies were meant to “receive” according to god. that wasn’t an uncommon attitude in the catholic church, probably still isn’t, but for obvious reasons i am no longer catholic. 

i had A LOT of internalized homophobia that likely registered as discomfort and fear around those who were out and made my relationship to sex toxic as fuck, which would later register in my relationships with men going forward. i’ve had a bad relationship to sex since i was a child, for reasons i wont get to here, but it was made even worse as i exited high school and began college. because of how i presented (”tomboy,” played softball, did construction, dressed punk, etc), people assumed i was queer. which made me uncomfortable because i was still warring with that identity, still very much living in a homophobic household and area, and still processing my own internalized hatred. then people insisted i was queer to the point of physical, sexual harassment--both from women and men. in the case of a particularly terrible relationship, the man i was dating insisted i was bisexual and constantly used that as a way to try to manipulate me into having threesomes (sidenote: when i came out i got a lot of ~i always knew and DO NOT DO THAT to people who are coming out)

so that set me back LOL

here’s what changed:

i moved. i cannot stress enough how important it ended up being to physically distance myself from the people who made my life so toxic (not just w/ sexuality, but again, that’s a whole ‘nother post). i was able to cut people out of my life who very much needed to be cut out of it. i moved away from my family (who i love, but love much better at a distance)

i made queer friends. eventually my number of queer friends outgrew my number of straight friends. i talked to people who made me feel like i belonged and feel like i didn’t have to hate myself

i took off dating for awhile after a particularly hard, emotionally abusive relationship. 2 years? i think?? (not that it matters. i was in a consecutive line of them for almost all of my adolescence) it was time i needed. and when i started dating again, it was with someone i could 100% trust (current spouse)

it still took a few years. comparatively i havent been out that long, but i am feeling so much better and emotionally healthier now that i am

why pan? 

this is very flippant, but i said it out loud and it felt right. i dont experience sexual attraction based on gendered characteristics (which NO is not the same as ‘hearts not parts’ which is a fucking gross statement that i do not endorse. at all). i dont see it as more inclusive as bisexual. more that there’s a big venn diagram between the two

figuring out where you’re at under that umbrella of sexual fluidity, however you define it, is a tough thing to do. im gonna be honest in saying get the fuck off tumblr and talk to people you trust about it. tumblr is so inundated in discourse and vitriol it will make you think that every single person hates whatever you identify as in the current moment. it fosters toxic exclusive/gatekeeping behaviors in the LGBT+ community. tumblr =/= the world. it IS helpful to talk to people and follow blogs through careful curation. talk to individuals on tumblr instead of going into tags.

almost everyone i know who is under that umbrella has moved under that umbrella, ex: pan to bi. there’s nothing wrong with trying on the different hats until you find something that feels right. none of them are inherently better or more valid than the other. i feel like tumblr contributes to the pressure of identity politics, esp if you (you poor soul) stumble across pan vs bi Discourse. i, for instance, am pan but if im called bi it’s not the end of the universe. sometimes i even use that identifier when im with people who are not from the queer community and i am too tired to be an Educator 

you don’t have to know right away. in fact, you don’t have to know at all. you can also change, because you change as you live your life. you could also use both! i know a few people who identify as both pan and bi. or identified as one and moved to the other. 

long winded way of saying these two points:

don’t only listen to tumblr

take your time

it’s your life. take as many detours as you need and don’t let someone else take control of the navigation

[argylemnwrites]

Not Exactly Sure, But Maybe Sure Enough

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Post The Royal Heir, Chapter 4)

Word Count: ~1900

Rating:  PG-13 (adult language)

Summary: Riley Liu has never been much of a planner. But with the whole world seeming to be making plans for her uterus, she has to reevaluate the way she approaches challenges in her life.

Author’s Note: Written for Day 16 of the Choices July Challenge (prompt - Uncertainty). Can be seen as a companion piece to my Day 2 submission, “Living with the Consequences” (link is in my masterlist as I think that Tumblr still sometimes hates my posts with links embedded in them). Trigger warning for mention of pregnancy loss.

Wanted to take a look at the whole “Would Drake and a Drake-romancing MC really just agree to name their kid heir to the throne?” shenanigans from the perspective of my MC. After all, I probably should write more from her perspective since she is the one who would have to go through all the public scrutiny and judgement. I originally envisioned a much different piece than this, but what can I say? This just took on a life of its own!

To say that Riley Liu hadn’t always thought things through fully was a bit of an understatement. After all, you don’t get on a plane with a guy you’d known for less than 24 hours to go compete in some strange political version of The Bachelor in a foreign country without being pretty impulsive. In all honesty, so much of her life could be seen as a series of decisions she put almost no thought into, bouncing into situation after situation because it sounded fun or awesome or sometimes, just better than her current circumstances. She’d jumped from job to job, casual relationship to casual relationship, friend group to friend group endlessly. Never any roots. Never anything permanent. Until one day, she found herself with actual, real friends, not just buddies you grab a drink with once or twice a month.

There was Maxwell, who gave her a family. Hana, who showed her what trust and honesty looked like in friendship. Liam, who welcomed her with such care, even when she made it clear she didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about her. They all took her in, this flighty, detached waitress and gave her a home, both figuratively and literally. A home she shared with her husband, a concept that still in some ways felt more foreign than the fact that nearly every hero she had for the past year used apple butter instead of mayo.

Finding Drake had been something she had never dared to hope for. Here was a man who seemed to understand her soul, the fears she had that she would always be alone in the end, that she was never good enough just as she was to be a priority to anyone. Sometimes listening to Drake talk about his life felt like looking at her own experiences through a fun-house mirror. Sure, the details were different; opulent parties and snobby nobles were worlds apart from a junkie mother and a variety of foster homes. But for all that distortion, at their core, their damage was the same. And maybe that’s why things always felt so natural between them, even when she was naïve enough to think that she could have a little fling with the cute prince, catch a flight back to NYC, and have a mad story for two truths and a lie going forward, leaving Cordonia behind without a glance back.

The love she felt for her friends, her husband, her new home she would have never experienced if she had stuck to her old habits and peaced out when things got tough, less lighthearted and silly and more filled with media scandals and political drama. She knew there was a lesson to be learned there, and while she would never be one to put together a five-year plan like she knew Hana was doing, she knew Riley Walker needed to be a bit different than Riley Liu. Or at least, she needed to work on being different. For her own sake, for her loved ones’ sake, and for the sake of the citizens she now answered to. While she might have leapt into the role of duchess without much thought, she recognized that being a political figure meant that she probably shouldn’t just roll along, indulging in every whim, every adventure, every idea presented to her, without at least thinking through the consequences somewhat.

So, she was trying this new thing, taking a few minutes to run through some good and bad possibilities for any decision before she jumped in with gusto, at least when it came to the major things in her life. She wasn’t going to let being married turn her into someone boring who was always stuck in a rut, but she could aim for a little stability. Spontaneous, not impulsive - that was her new goal.

And at first it was easy, settling in at Valtoria in those first few weeks, then heading to the private island for her and Drake’s honeymoon. Telling Drake that she was ready to start a family with him, and sooner rather than later, seemed like a calm, rational follow up to their discussion of their future back during the lantern festival. If felt like something responsible adults, responsible parents did. But suddenly it seemed like that was all they talked about, really all anyone talked about around them. And Riley didn’t know how to feel about that. What was the appropriate response to Madeleine telling her that she and Drake better be having a lot of sex, other than the petulant desire to offer to fuck her husband right now if Madeleine would just leave the room? How do you respond to congratulations for a thing that hasn’t happened yet? And what the hell made her typically grumpy, jaded husband respond to Liam’s request like a seasoned diplomat?

Sure, they had a few conversations about his reasons. And she got it, kind of. But did he really not have any doubts about the whole thing? Could he not see that this increased media attention was just the beginning, that their lives were not just their lives anymore? Everyone was going to want a piece of them.

And then of course, her miscarriage happened, leaving them both shell-shocked. Super common, according to Dr. Ramirez, and no reason not to try again. But Riley didn’t know if they should try again, at least not right away. Maybe this was a sign to slow down, to not force this whole parenthood thing at such a rushed speed. But to go back on birth control felt like they were failures, letting down Liam, their friends, and all of Cordonia. Everyone seemed to need their baby so damn much, Riley couldn’t bring herself to take a few months, maybe even a year, to process her loss and heal. She could sense a similar longing in Drake, to move on together, not as public figures but just as Drake and Riley. But after agreeing to name their child heir to the throne, the sacrifice of the timing of trying for another pregnancy seemed inconsequential. What was a few months compared to years of diplomacy classes, public scrutiny, and increased security threats? So they kept trying. And a few months later, they succeeded again. But they were wiser now. No one was going to know except them and Dr. Ramirez. Riley refused to take a pregnancy test at home for that reason. She thought she could trust her staff, but then again she had trusted Gladys, and look how that turned out.

But now she was into the second trimester, out of the most dangerous window, and in certain outfits, she was starting to show. She’d had to avoid some of her favorite shirts and dresses, and Hana had made a few comments that implied that she’d figured it out for weeks now. So she and Drake invited Liam, Maxwell, Hana, Olivia, Bertrand, and Savannah over for dinner. It was exciting to share their happy news, even if they didn’t get to announce it so much as Olivia called out the ridiculousness of their charade when Riley had to excuse herself due to nausea within 30 minutes of everyone’s arrival. On the other hand, it felt a little sad, to lose that shared secret between her and her husband. 

Because now this was the nation’s pregnancy, and never had that been more clear than tonight, as a stylist zipped Riley into a long gown that was as tight as clothing she’d worn before her pregnancy, clearly meant to highlight her bump that was still pretty damn small. Meanwhile, a makeup artist and a hairstylist, both also Madeleine’s “gift” for the night, primped and prodded. Kate Middleton didn’t let her hyperemesis stop her from looking polished, Madeleine had snipped when Riley balked at the whole styling crew, and her children were much farther away from the crown. 

“The mother of the next monarch needs to look like a queen, not some sickly, sloppy piece of work with bags under her eyes.”

Riley had a lot of thoughts about that she would have expressed if she was so damn exhausted, so she settled instead for a middle finger thrust in Madeleine’s direction. Oh well, a little impulsivity was probably excusable under these circumstances.

It all felt so surreal, attending this ball thrown in honor of her son or daughter who was still just a possibility at this point. A lot still could go wrong here, not the least of which was her puking on some diplomat’s shoes in the next hour. As she sat waiting for Madeleine to come and get her, letting her know that they were ready for her entrance as the womb that carried the guest of honor, she felt like she was walking through a fog. Riley Liu would have said, “Screw this shit,” and run away, hopping on a flight or catching a bus. Getting the hell out of this world full of pressure and expectations and demands. But Riley Walker couldn’t do that. She had obligations, and she had to see them through.

She heard the door opening, but didn’t turn to face Madeleine, wanting a few more moments with just her child, no matter how fleeting they would be.

“Hey, so I got a plan to get us out of there in 90 minutes. Two hours, tops.”

She let out a sigh of relief before she even fully processed her husband’s words. He was always finding ways to give them a little more time to be just… them. Not a duke and duchess, and now not the future king or queen’s parents. Just Drake, Riley, and now their little one. 

“How’d you manage that?” she asked, turning towards him as he crossed the room and crouched down in front of her chair. She noticed he hadn’t escaped Madeleine’s grooming plans, wearing a brand new black suit with his hair parted awkwardly to one side.

“Easy. I got Maxwell to agree to give a toast that will last a minimum of 15 minutes as an ode to the best childhood moments of all of Cordonia’s kings and queens. I figure we slip out to get you some air, and we just never come back. Hana’s promised to deflect any questions about our location after we make our escape.”

She reached down, giving him a gentle smile as she ran a hand through his hair, getting rid of that awful part. Now he looked and sounded like her husband.

All too quickly, their moment of privacy was shattered as Madeleine bustled in, taking one look at Drake’s hair and rolling her eyes.

“And just what do you think you two are doing? You’re supposed to make your entrance in less than a minute!”

“Just taking a moment in between,” Riley said as Drake stood up, squeezing her hand as he pulled her to her feet.

“Well, moment’s over. Let’s get going.”

It wasn’t how she would have chosen to go about this whole pregnancy thing, but for better or worse, this was how it was happening. As Drake held tight to her hand as they walked down the hallway, she was glad for was many doubts and uncertainties as she had about this entire heir-to-the-throne situation, at least they were fumbling through this together. They might have both been out of their element, but they had each other, and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to get them through all of it.

Tags: @dcbbw @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley–walker @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @butindeed @choicesjulychallenge @kinda-iconic @mfackenthal

[romioneflufffest]

Practice Calls

Title: Practice Calls

Creator: @hillnerd

Rated: G/PG

Description: Ron and Hermione practice calling each other (missing moments set during POA through summer of GoF)

Easter Break was just around the corner, and it was not a minute too soon. Hermione was happy to have a time turner free week, as well as have her two best friends back in her life. She needed them now more than ever, as the pressures of her class schedule was starting to wear on her in little ways she had not even considered. She knew she hadn’t actually aged all that much, really, but somehow felt old and creaky anymore. Next to the Gryffindor fireplace she was longing for a nap, but something warmed her through far better than any fireplace could.

Ron had just walked into the Common Room and made a beeline for her, a lopsided grin gracing his freckled face.

“Mum sent Easter gifts. You got one too,” Ron said, handing her a wrapped package, the paper covered in little finely drawn quills.

“That was nice of her,” Hermione smiled, ripping into the paper much more delicately than Ron. Inside was a large chocolate egg with a hand-piped orange cat on it. She would have pointed out out the cute cat, but she had been avoiding mentioning Crookshanks in front of Ron the past few weeks. She was so happy for them to be on speaking terms again she was willing to never speak of her cat again.

“Well?” said Ron through a mouthful of chocolate. “You should eat some. You’ve had a tough week,”

It had indeed been a tough week. She’d slept through a Charms class, slapped Draco Malfoy, and even quit Divination. Ron had said he thought she was cracking up, and she wasn’t so sure he was wrong. He happily tucked in to his Easter egg before he took out a great deal of paperwork.

“What are you studying? Perhaps we can work on it together,” Hermione offered, breaking off a small piece of chocolate to nibble.

“It’s Buckbeak’s appeal. Wanted to send it off before the break,” he said, carefully writing something on it. She’d never seen his penmanship look more legible. Something about this made a tiny thrill rush through her.

“Yes. That’s a very good idea,” she said, feeling herself flush.

“You doing alright?” Ron asked, looking up from his neat papers.

“Oh yes! Yes I’m fine!” she said, leaning over to look through her book bag. Cheering charms. That’s what she needed to study. They spent the next twenty or so minutes in silence as each saw to their own tasks. She didn’t mind the quiet when it was her and Ron together. Harry was away at Defense lessons with Lupin, leaving just the two of them together. The companionship Ron provided was always welcome, though. Any time he was near her she felt just a little more capable, a little lighter, and a little more calm. It was no wonder she had been falling apart so much this year. She’d had to spend months out of his, and Harry’s, company. If it weren’t for that, she was certain her very busy schedule would not have made her so overwrought. Harry was nice to hang out with as well, but he just wasn’t quite the same as Ron.

“And… I think that’s done then,” Ron beamed looking down at his work. “Hermione, you mind looking this over?”

“Of course not,” she smiled back. She read page after page where Ron cited prior cases similar to Buckbeak’s, cited formal texts on Hippogriff behavior, and had many witness statements regarding Buckbeak’s behavior both before and after Malfoy’s run-in with the beast. It was more meticulously done than any paper of his she’d ever read.

“This is very good, Ron.”

“You think so?” he hopefully asked.

“I know so. If this doesn’t get Buckbeak cleared it’s due to pure malice on the part of the committee.”

“Good! I’ll ask Harry if I can borrow Hedwig after his lesson with Lupin,” said Ron, leaning back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head. “Don’t have any work due til after break! Mind you, my hand’s so cramped from writing the appeal, I don’t think I could do homework right now if I tried.”

“Would you mind showing me your notes from Charms?” Hermione asked. She’d missed Cheering Charms and knew they would show up on the exam. Ron quickly got them out, and she noticed they were a bit more detailed than usual. He’d done the same thing when she’d been in the hospital wing the prior year. His notes were inconsistent in quality until either she or Harry were absent- then suddenly his notes would look almost as detailed and neat as her own. They’d always had the odd doodle in them, so in some ways she preferred his notes. She found the funny little sketches to remind him of certain movements of the wand, and little notes Harry highly entertaining. She never told Ron this, of course, otherwise he’d never stay on task in class.

“Thank you.”

Ron took a large bite of his chocolate egg and seemed to be preoccupied.

“Y’know, this is the third Easter Harry’s been here, and that pissant ‘family’ or his never sends him so much as one letter,” he said, wadding up the wrapping paper from his egg and tossing it into the fire.

“Well… That’s not unusual for them, is it? They don’t give him real presents for birthdays or Christmas either.”

“Not even one bleeding letter! It’s ridiculous!” said Ron crossing his arms. “I wish I had an owl of my own so I could write him more often this summer.”

“Maybe we could try calling again?”

“After what happened last time on that fellytone thing? I flummoxed it up so badly, I think that fat uncle of his would have a coronary if I called. Worse, he might just put bars on Harry’s windows again.”

“Oh don’t!” Hermione cried out, not wanting to even think about how horrid Harry relatives were. “Those people are such monsters. It’s a miracle Harry turned out as well as he did.”

“Yeah…” Ron said looking down. “Well, I’m hoping to get Harry out of there early this summer, if I can.”

Hermione smiled. She loved how quick Ron was to find ways to help Harry out. Then a little thought began to form at the back of her mind.

“Ron… I was thinking. Maybe we can practice phone calls this summer,” said Hermione, eyes suddenly bright.

“Like I said, I don’t want to get Harry in trouble. That Uncle of his–”

“No no. Not You and Harry. You and me.” Before Ron could put forth any reservations, Hermione quickly went on. “It would be purely for getting better at calling people! Who knows, maybe Harry’s relatives will let him have a phone call. Either way, it would be good to practice. Who knows if you’ll need to call someone in the future.”

Yes. It was purely for practical reasons she wanted to practice phone call with Ron, and not at all because she would love to hear his voice over the summer.

“You don’t need to sell me on it,” Ron said with a laugh. “I can walk down to the village again. It’ll give me a chance to get out of the house without my whole family breathing down my neck.”

Hermione beamed, somehow looking forward to a phone call that was months away, even though Ron was right beside her.

____

Ron kicked a pebble along the dirt road as he made his way to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. He’d been down the road hundreds of times at this point, but had never felt quite so nervous before. He wasn’t sure why he was so filled with nerves. It was just a phone call, and it was just to Hermione. He talked with her all the time at school, and wrote to her more often than he cared to admit to his family. When he’d told his mum he needed to go to the village to call Hermione his mum had insisted he bring a basket to pick up a few things from the farmer’s market around the corner. He was glad to have this as an excuse to give his siblings. He knew they would tease him for calling Hermione, just as they teased him for everything else.

Ron spotted the family pub just down the street and popped in, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“Excuse me,” Ron said, giving a small wave to the same bartender who had been there last summer. “Is your felltone- I mean— er— telephone available for a call?”

“We ‘ave the same phone booths as last time you was ‘ere,” the older heavyset man said, giving a nod to the set of phone booths at the far end of the pub. They each had old-timey phones in them, according to his father, making it a bit of a tourist attraction. And they were free, which made them a lot more attractive to Ron. Ron had been screaming into one of the phones last summer, so it was no surprise that the gruff man remembered him so sourly.

“They’s for payin’ customers only, though.”

“Right…” Ron said, sorting through the cash his mother had given him. “You have anything cold to drink? Butterbeer?”

Ron winced the moment it was out of his mouth. Butterbeer was a wizard drink! Why was he so bad at this? The barkeep’s red face scrunched up into a frown.

“Think you’re funny? I ain’t givin’ you no beer.”

“Er, whatever’s cheapest then,” Ron said with a shrug. The man rolled his eyes and took out a long snake-like tube and pressed a button, filling a glass with bubbly water the color of coffee. Ron thanked him and shakily doled out change. The man seemed impatient and Ron nearly dropped all the wonky coins he was so nervous. He managed alright, though, and finally made his way to the line of phones, fizzy drink in hand. He fumblingly got Hermione’s letter out of his jeans pocket and scanned it for her phone number. Dialing was an arduous process, and the phone’s dial tone was obnoxious to listen to as he turned the dial for each number. Her number had three nines in it, making it even worse to dial on the wheel of numbers. And then it was ringing. He took a nervous sip of the drink and nearly gagged at the overly sweet taste of it.

“Hello?” said a voice clear as a bell. Hermione!

“Pshlab,” Ron let out with a gagging noise.

“Hello?”

“Sorry!” Ron said rather loudly into the phone, before forcing himself to lower his voice. “Sorry. Had to buy one of those muggle drinks to get to use their phone. It tastes awful!”

“Ron! I’m so glad you called!”

He could practically hear her smile over the phone. Even with the bartender glaring at him, and the prospect of the twins teasing him about the phone call, he couldn’t help but smile back.

———————————————————————————————–

Hermione had been worried about their first phone call, as Ron’s previous experience with phones had gone so poorly, but it had gone very smoothly. She had given him fair warning not to yell into the set, and conversation seemed to flow just as easily over the phone as it had back at Hogwarts. He didn’t need to practice after the first call, but somehow Hermione didn’t want their phone calls to end. Ron didn’t seem to want their phone calls to stop either. A few times a week Ron would hoof it to the village to call Hermione, and tired of the teases from her parents as she tied up the downstairs line, she took the phone from the guest room to her own bedroom. Her mother caught her as she was carrying the phone, its long springy cord trailing behind her on the floor.

“Where are you taking the guest phone?”

Hermione blushed.

“I didn’t want to make my phone calls to Ron downstairs. There’s always noise of some sort, and it’s quieter up here, but more comfortable in my own room. I didn’t need a phone until now, and it’s not like any guests are using it, so I decided to borrow it for the summer. If that’s ok, of course. Sorry I didn’t ask,” Hermione babbled.

“You’re at the age where you’re having long calls with boys. Oh dear!” her mother teased, making Hermione blush harder.

“It’s not boys. It’s only Ron,” Hermione muttered.

“You write him so often, I didn’t think you’d keep up with the phone calls too,” her mother noted.

Hermione really could have stopped writing Ron, but there was something fun about doing both, then talking about the letter they received. She thought they might have nothing to talk about, but they actually had loads. Each phone call was getting longer and longer. That was why she wanted to do it in privacy as well. Her father would look at her, point at his watch, then continue to walk by.

“Well… It’s ok for me to take the phone, then?” Hermione hopefully asked.

“Of course. Just do it when your father’s out. We still only have one line, and he gets nervous when the line is tied up for too long.”

Hermione beamed, and ran the rest of the way to her room. She could have her phone calls with Ron and have them in private now.

Their next phone call was just as pleasant as ever, and Hermione found it so much more relaxing to lay on her bed as she talked to Ron. She could just imagine him there beside her as they talked, and a rush of girlish giggles making their way out of her mouth at the thought.

“You know what, at first I thought they’d be barmy, but I actually like telephone calls!” Ron said into the receiver. “I just wish I could see you, though. That makes Floo calling a bit better.”

Hermione beamed and wrapped the cord around her finger.

“Oh! We could see each other! Let’s practice Floo calls! I’ve never done one, and I don’t want to be the only witch at Hogwarts who doesn’t know how.”

Ron fell silent a moment.  

“Well… The telephone calls are private…” he said, suddenly not sounding very enthusiastic. Was she that bad to look at? Or did he not want anyone to know they were talking?

“Oh… Well, if you don’t want to.”

“Oh I do! I really do,” Ron said fervently. “It’s just… They would be in the middle of our house, and I it’s so mad around here we’d barely be able to talk.”

“I understand,” Hermione said, unable to completely hide her disappointment.

“You know what? Let’s do it. But it’ll have to be after everyone goes to bed, otherwise it’ll be nothing but the twins and everyone else butting in. We can even do it tonight, if you like. You’re already connected to the Floo network for when you come here next week. I can send Pig with some powder and you can try your hand at it. Around eleven?”

“Ok then! It’s a date!” Hermione let out, excitement making her wiggle in place.

“Er yeah! It’s a— yeah see you at eleven!” Ron said back. With that their phone call ended, and Hermione, for the first time she could think of, started to worry about what she should wear and what she should do with hair. She hadn’t seen Ron in nearly two months, and didn’t want to look poorly for him… Perhaps she should plait her hair? Should she still be dressed in her normal clothes? Or as it would be so late at night would it be more natural to have her pajamas on?

———————————————————————————————

Ron had sent Pig to Hermione’s earlier that day, but Pig hadn’t gotten back yet. Perhaps Hermione had borrowed him to send something to Harry? He hoped Hermione had gotten the powder alright. It was only a few minutes to eleven, and Ron couldn’t stop himself from pacing the floor. He wasn’t sure if he should wear his normal clothes or not, given the late hour, but thought he looked more presentable in them than his tatty pajamas. Percy had given him a pair of rarely worn jeans that fit alright, so he decided to wear that and a t-shirt that almost fit right, even though it was a bit tighter through the shoulders than it had been earlier that year.

Right at eleven the fire grew and sparked a bit.

“Ron?” He heard Hermione’s voice say through the fire.

“Yeah, I’m here!” Ron said, sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. “You can put your head through, if you like.”

“Are you… Are you sure it’s safe?” Hermione said, sounding nervous. Ron chuckled a bit at Hermione being nervous about something. She was always such a little firebrand about things, so it was almost cute to hear her fret about something so common place to him.

“I promise, it’s as safe as a phone call,” he said, trying to hold his laughter as bay. He did his best to not laugh or tease people brought up with Muggle things when it came to new experiences in the Wizard world. Merlin knew he was clueless enough at Muggle things, so he tried to be as patient and aware as he could. He’d felt awful guilty the times he’d overlooked informing Harry or Hermione about something they should know.

The flames danced brightly for a bit, then Hermione’s face came through the flames, her prominent top teeth biting her lip.

“Oh!” she let out nervously. “This is so strange! Can you see me?”

“Yeah, I can see you,” Ron said with a smile. “You can see me too, yeah?”

She nodded before letting out a laugh.

“It doesn’t even feel warm. It’s so odd! I can’t believe it. It feels the same temperature as the rest of my house! I was worried it’d burn my hair, but it hasn’t.”

He could see her wild hair was plaided down the side of her head. It looked different than usual. He preferred it when her hair was all over the place, but wasn’t about to tell her this. In fact, she looked a bit different all over her head. Her eyebrows were a little thinner, and her eyes somehow looked a bit bigger?

“Your eyelashes look different,” he noted.

“Oh!” It was hard to tell in the flames, but Hermione’s tan skin looked a touch darker on her cheeks. “Well… I tried to… My mum gave me some mascara…”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a sort of… A sort of makeup that girls put on their eyelashes.”

“Why?”

“To make the eyelashes longer and darker.”

“Oooh. Do they make that for guys? Half the time I think I look like I don’t have eyelashes at all,” Ron said with smile, fluttering his light lashes at her. Hermione laughed at this and whatever was making her nervous seemed to dissipate.

Their Floo call was going quite well, and they’d been talking for well over an hour when Ron heard a scream on the other end of the Floo and Hermione’s eyes went wide.

“Oh! Mum! It’s fine!” Hermione cried out, pulling her head out of the fire. Ron could hear her mother sobbing as Hermione comforted her.

“It’s fine! It’s just magic! Let me say goodnight to Ron so he doesn’t worry. Look, watch this!” Hermione said, and then her face was in the flames again. “Ron, I have to go. I just gave my mother a terrible fright.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no worries. Sorry about that Mrs Granger!” Ron called back into the fire. The flames went out after that, and Ron had a great deal of trouble falling asleep.

The next morning he woke up to Pig dancing about his bed, a roll of parchment in tow. It took a moment to grab the excited little blighter, but after a few jumps he grabbed the little owl and untied a letter from Hermione.

In her even hand it read:

Dear Ron,

I’m so sorry our call had to be ended so abruptly. Mum was very hysterical to find her only daughter’s body lying headfirst in the fire. It took quite a long time to calm her down. I really liked getting to call you like this, but perhaps we should stick to letters until I come next week? I’m ever so excited to see you (And Harry and everyone else.)

I hope Ginny won’t mind me being in her room. She’s always been so nice all the times we’ve talked before, but I hate to put her out!

Maybe we can have one more phone call before I come over? Get that last bit of practice in for the summer?

I would write more, but it’s well past midnight.

Love from,

Hermione

——————————————————————————————

It had taken almost an hour for Hermione to calm her mother down after she had walked in on the fire chat with Ron. She couldn’t blame her mother, of course. It must have been a ghastly sight to come across at almost half past midnight.

Neither of her parents had been exposed to much magic, despite Hermione having been at Hogwarts for three years. There was little chance for them to learn, really, given how Hermione wasn’t allowed to use magic, and they’d only been to Diagon Alley a few times. She wished she could show them all the different spells and potions she’d mastered, but frankly they always looked perplexed as she described the lessons to them.

They failed to see how turning a teapot into a tortoise was something that would translate into a job down the road. Hermione tried to keep to lessons that made more sense to them, but couldn’t fail to see the mild disappointment and confusion that would cross their faces as she described class. They could understand making great grades, though, so she tried best she could to emphasize that, and lessons that pertained to history, healing, or performing useful tasks even they could appreciate. She had to be careful to avoid all the political bits of school, such as the Blood purists, the corrupt government officials, and the school board.

She also had to avoid mentioning how in danger she was each year. They had no idea how close she had come to dying each year, and the school didn’t deign to contact her parents about much of anything when it came to her exploits. Their hands off approach was rather shocking to Hermione at first, but over the years she came to appreciate it, as she could  almost fully control what information her parents were given about her goings on

Convincing them to let her travel to the Burrow by Floo took a good thirty minutes, but when they were assured over the phone by Ron that he and his father would escort her personally, they finally seemed ok with the choice. Her mother was not entirely happy with this, and let out a small scream when the fireplace broke out into tall emerald green flames, and a soot covered Ron had to crawl out of their low, by wizard standards, fire place.

“Hey Hermione,” he said with a smile. Ron’s father came up right after, and did a quick spell to clean them, as well as the carpet and hearth, of all the soot.

“Hi Ron!” Hermione smiled, and gave him a large hug after he was dust free. He returned her hug with gusto, his ears burning, probably since everyone’s eyes were one them. He seemed taller than he had been just a few months ago, and he was wearing a pair of jeans that fit him much better than most of his others.

Ron’s Dad was every bit as excited to see her parents as he ever was, so Hermione took the opportunity to give Ron a quick tour of her house. At first he seemed quite keen, but after the first few rooms his mood seemed to dip low.

“Are you alright?” she asked, seeing him frowning a bit.

“Yeah… It’s just… Well, you’re house is really nice,” Ron said with a forced smile.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah… Yeah…” Ron said starting to look worried.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Course I am. Just… Well, you’re coming to stay at our place, and I think I could fit three of the Burrow in your living room, and we have almost four times as many people who will be under one roof. It’ll be tight, and not as nice as this…”

“I’ll be with you,” Hermione said with a smile, before catching herself, “and everyone else. I’m sure I’m going to enjoy every single second there. Plus, I’ve never been in a magical home before. It will be amazing, I’m sure.”

“It’s just my home…” he trailed off, still looking uncertain.

“That’s why I’m sure I’ll love it,” she assured him. He seemed to get out of his funk as they entered her room.

“Oh wow,” Ron said, letting out a whistle.

“What?”

“It’s just, this room is a very Hermione-ish room, isn’t it?” he said with a laugh.

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked, uncertainly twisting a curl around her finger.

“Nothing bad,” he said with a lopsided grin that made her toes curl. “You just put your mark on it, didn’t you? Tons of books, the way the photos are all lined up just so, the wall calendar. It’s just very you.”

He gave an inhale.

“Yup. Smells like a Hermione room.”

“It smells like me?” she almost squeaked.

“Yeah, smells like books and that chapstick you always have around. The vanilla smelling one.”

“Oh… I… Oh…” Hermione didn’t know how to respond. Ron was commenting on how she smelled, but it seemed to be in a flattering way. She felt as nervous as she did before exams.

Ron let out a laugh and pointed at the far wall.

“Who in the world is that bloke?” he said, pointing to a poster of Einstein where the scientist had his tongue out.

“A famous Muggle scientist. He’s known for the theory of relativity.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Ron said with a shrug, “but he sure knows how to take a picture.”

“He did the Muggle equivalency of arithmancy, and figured out a lot about how the universe works, including gravity.”

Ron nodded at this and was about to say something when they heard her father call up the stairs, “Ron! Hermione! It’s about time to go!”

They went downstairs, and Hermione gave each of her parents a large hug. Her mother in particular didn’t seem to want to let go.

“You will write us often, won’t you?” she asked.

“Of course I will,” Hermione said, feeling a touch guilty knowing she wouldn’t see them for more than nine months.

“She can borrow my owl any time she needs to, Mr and Mrs Granger,” Ron supplied, and Hermione felt proud of how polite and courteous he was coming across. Ron then walked her, and her parents, through how they would Floo over. Apparently Mr Weasley had already explained the Floo Networks logistics, but they seemed to calm a bit more having a boy know how it works and treats the task as quite mundane. Ron threw the powder into the fire place, stood in the flames, and said ‘The Burrow’ very clearly.

Hermione received another firm hug from each parent before she followed Ron’s example and walked through the flames the same way, with Mr Weasley following behind with her trunk.

The Burrow smelled of freshly baked bread, and some other undefinable flowery scent she was almost certain she’d smelled at Hogwarts at one point or another. There was a brush magically scrubbing pots all on its own, a clock with pictures of the whole family pointing to different locations instead of times, and all the photos were moving. It was tight, but homey and Hermione felt immediately at peace as she walked further into the room. Ron bit his lip and looked a bit uncertain, until Hermione took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“This is the most amazing home I’ve ever been in!” she let out, and the beaming smile he gave her was so warming, she was certain she could power a Patronus with it, even though she’d never tried to do a Patronus Charm before.

“You know, I know it sounds barmy, but I think I’m going to miss our phone calls a bit,” Ron said as he pulled her towards the stairs.

“We can always do it again next summer.”

“I’d like that,” Ron grinned back at her.

She felt pleased down to her tows as he lead her for a tour around the house, her hand still in his.

[ironforgedrp]

♛  MORRA GREYJOY

↳ details; female, 27. 479 AC ↳ status; pansexual, single, no children. ↳ faceclaim; summer bishil ↳ hails from; iron islands ↳ loyalty; iron islands, the ironborn, her family

↳ title;  lady greyjoy, captain of the shadow of the tide ↳ religion;  the drowned god ↳ spoken languages; common tounge, some bastard valayrian from her mother and other small bits of languages from her travels ↳ reason for being in sunspear;  to represent the iron islands in the negotiations

♛ PERSONALITY

↳ type; the commander ↳ alignment; chaotic neutral ↳ star sign;  scorpio. ↳ positives;  intelligent, outgoing, determined, gritty, affectionate ↳ negatives; manipulative, cunning, proud, blunt

♛ BIOGRAPHY

↳ family lineage.

it was often said that looking at the greyjoys, one might think they were looking at a complete group of strangers instead of a tightknit family. almost each and every child looking different from the next, as almost all of them had different mothers. their father balon greyjoy had always wanted a large family to help the greyjoy family spread and get stronger. after his first wife passed away, he soon married his second, both wives giving him children. of course, there were also the many salt wives the lord of the iron islands had taken over the years and many of them bore him children as well, creating a mixed but united family.

morra greyjoy was born from balon’s second marriage to her mother lady myria jordayne of dorne. when she was young child she had asked her mother time and time again what drew her away from the sunny shores of tor to the rocky harsh lands of the iron islands. at first her mother didn’t answer the question. morra had assumed it was because her mother didn’t actually know and was only sent to balon greyjoy as some kind of treaty for trade. morra was persistent though and even though she was a young child she wanted to know. her mother eventually gave in, telling her that she wanted to wait until she was older but felt like she might be ready now. she told her that while she did love balon but she loved the sea more. she claimed that one night while out on the beach back home in tor, the drowned god himself appeared to her in dream or vision. he had told her that she has a destiny before her on the iron islands and with balon greyjoy. balon’s children were destined to conquer the seas and conquer the land and that with her their children could be even greater. her mother knew that nothing was written in stone but even the thought that her children had a destiny before them that would lead them to great places and they could become great people she knew she had to go. morra had never questioned her mother before and her mother was not the type to joke around with ideas like that. so from a little girl she knew she could grow up to be someone special if she pushed herself, so that’s exactly what morra did.

growing up in a family like the greyjoys had its ups and downs. her father and mother pushed all of the children to be the best. while not outwardly cruel they were not always the softest parents. if morra fell down in training or took a hard hit her mother did not rush over to pick her up and hold her if she cried. instead, she stood by, cheering her on to get up and to keep fighting. there would be time later to bandage wounds and for some comfort but in those moments she could not give up.

when she was deemed old enough morra underwent the ritual drowning of the drowned god. even as a child she wanted to show she was ready for the destiny set before her. she joined her brother’s crew for a few years, training under him as he pushed her to get better and better and better. while back home on the islands her mother taught her other lessons that most ironborn never considered important. she learned reading and writing and more importantly how one might fit into court life. if morra and her siblings were going to help the ironborn take over more land then she needed to know how to deal with other westerosi nobles. at first morra was not too thrilled with those lessons but still she took it all in knowing it could help. her mother even took her on test runs when she would take her on visits back to dorne. often it ended with some snobby lord getting a broken nose after exchanging some heated words with the greyjoy

morra was still a teenager when she captained her first ship that had been gifted to her by her siblings. it was small and the crew wasn’t large but morra couldn’t have been more proud. overtime her ships and crews got bigger and bigger until she was gifted her pride and joy, the shadow of the tide. while still, young morra earned the respect of her crew as she proved herself time and time again with the choices she made, the fights she won,her strong demeanor, but also for the care she had for her crew. after years of sailing with her, there was little to no men or women who would speak ill of their captain. both out of respect and fear of what might happen to them if they did.

as the chaos in the capital happened around them, morra was too busy with her crew and her business to pay attention much. that was until other ruling families stared splitting from the iron throne. morra was ready to get word that her brother, now ruling lord, had also declared the iron islands free as well. but no such word came. it was no secret that the greyjoys were a prideful family and she was shocked that her brother didn’t declare himself a king. but despite that she knew she had to trust her brother on his decision. he was a smart man, a very smart man and there had to be a good reason why he did it.

the reality of what was happening hit her in the face one night while her and her crew were ashore. most of them had found their way to a local inn and were enjoying a few drinks when drunken lord of the islands slinked over to her table that night and called her a coward along with a string of other names. like a true ironborn he was not shy about getting in her face with threats and morra didn’t back down to the older man. her crew seemed to be getting more and more agitated as the man raged in front of her. he said that her brother was weak for not leaving the iron throne, that the ironborn were once free men and they should be once again. morra stood strong by her brother’s side, she would not weaken his stance by talking out against him. the lord didn’t take too kindly to mor’s laughter back and him and how quickly she seemed to shut him up. that night she traveled back alone to her ship when the man jumped from the shadows and attacked her. as the two of them fought, he told her that he would hunt down her ship and take it over. once he killed her crew he would take her as his salt wife to prove to her brother that the greyjoys could be taken down. morra would not stand to be insulted in that way, or her family to be. this man would either kill her or take her as a wife and neither of those things would she ever do. as they continued to fight, her mind was already made up. she was a greyjoy and she was trained by the best to be the best. victory swiftly was hers. even in her anger, she did not want to spill the blood of another ironborn. instead, she dragged the man to the edge of the water and drowned him. giving his life back to the drowned god.

she has no regrets from that night and if given the choice she would do it again. it wasn’t like she had never killed anyone before but just never another ironborn. but something about his words had gotten into her head. did others on the islands feel the same or was that just the drunken rambling of an idiot with a death wish. after staying up most of the night mulling over, she decided she wanted to show the strength of not just the greyjoys but the iron islands as a whole. the next day she set sail with her family to dorne ready for whatever might come her way, but the strength of her purpose pushing her forward.

↳ personality.

many things make a good captain, according to most ironborn. morra has felt she embodied most of them. she’s studied under some of the best captains on the iron islands and has gained a lot of knowledge from them. she also has a very keen instinct that has helped her in a lot of situations. unlike some of the other captains who are completely stoic and ruthless morra has always had a bit more of an effervescent personality. she gets to know not only her crew but her friends well and they become like a family to her. morra has never been described as someone who would be shy. she is who she is and she’s happy about it. she’ll tell you how she is feeling and what she thinks about you if she wants.

pride is something that most greyjoys have to struggle with. being not only a greyjoy but a captain herself morra has a high view of herself and sometimes that pride can get in her way. often that combines with the enormous pressure that has been on her shoulders since she was a young child. her parents were never shy in letting her and her siblings know that they had a great destiny to fulfill and they needed to be the best they could. morra sets very high expectations for herself because of this. she wants to keep trying and trying to do better and do something more. even when she does do something good, it can be a double-edged sword for her. she’s got incredible confidence in herself but her accomplishments can feel not enough for her at times. morra isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty to get what she wants. in fact it was encouraged by both of her parents. no one gets far in life if they are afraid to make tough choices or do tough things.

↳ the splitting of the kingdoms.

morra is in sunspear to help show her family’s strength and to perhaps expand on the power they already have. morra honestly doesn’t care too much about the other kingdoms splitting off from the iron thrones since it doesn’t have a huge impact on her. though she is curious why her brother decided not to split off and wondering if he’s just waiting for the right time. but the iron islands have a lot to offer some of these new kingdoms and she’s ready to negotiate and trade if need be.

  ♛  STATUS:  TAKEN.

[kyojuuros]

Levi’s role in Eren’s development and why “Eren vs. Levi” won’t happen

I mentioned recently my opposition to the idea that Eren would hurt or even kill Levi in order to further pursue his goal - whatever exactly it may be. Furthermore, I am not personally foreseeing an “Eren vs. Levi” showdown approaching. I feel like I should elaborate on that.

Eren and Levi have always had a compelling relationship, in my opinion. Where other people have either feared or blindly adored Eren, Levi has always seen him for what he is and accepted him. Likewise, Eren has almost always looked to Levi for guidance and inspiration, but was quick to understand Levi is as fallible and human as anyone else. I'm gong to cover some points as I try to explain myself here.

Isayama has stated before that Eren may have to march in Levi's shadow in order for the story to progress in a certain way.

I think that we are clearly seeing the result of that now. Where Eren used to convulse and shake when he was angry (and in general, very expressive and impulsive), something Isayama stated Levi once did too, we have now come to see an Eren who pushes what he's feeling down in order to focus on his goal. This is very similar to Levi's demeanor and something we only see from them as they are now when they've become deeply emotionally compromised.

It's not that Eren has become cold, detached and unfeeling toward his peers. Rather, he's come to learn that he cannot let his emotions and feelings about them dictate his behavior if he is going to save them. He must control himself if he is to get anything done. Since Levi goes about things in a similar manner, he's in one of the best positions to understand Eren as he is now. Thus, I believe that he is one of the more likely people to get through to Eren at this time.

Additionally, it’s good to remember that Levi told his squad plain as day that he was willing to "become a mass murderer” if it meant humanity at large would have a chance at surviving. Eren is doing the same for his friends and the island now. He has picked up on the things Levi has said and done and has started to absorb it into his own actions. Again, if anyone will understand this point of view, it will be Levi.

I think that, if we are to take this sort of parallel between them and assume that Eren has adopted more of Levi’s approach toward achieving his goals, at the very worst Eren would do something minor to get Levi out of the way (as Levi tried to do to him during the serumbowl) - but nothing that would put permanently harm him.

Levi's views on Eren per their Visual Novel

In Eren and Levi’s shared visual novel, Burning Bright in the Forests of the Night, it's stated very clear that Levi understands well the essence of Eren's character.

Humanity’s Strongest understands Eren Jaeger very well. Eren Jaeger is indeed feared as a monster. Eren Jaeger is undoubtedly a monster. But all these people have gotten it wrong from the start. Eren Jaeger is not a monster because he has the power to shift into a titan.

When Levi states that Eren is a monster in the Forest of Giant trees, he’s implying that it’s Eren’s nature that is to be feared, not his shifter ability. This is something that Levi has seen since their very first formal encounter. Eren as he is in the current timeline is showing this nature for all the world to see now. But Levi was the one who saw it first, completely unadulterated nor filtered through personal affection.

Nothing can be done to control this monster. Not violence, power, words. Nor danger, fear, peace. And, most likely – not even love.

And again, this is something that we are seeing now. Eren’s will keeps pushing him forward, no matter what. When he’s determined and has his mind set on something, nothing can stop him from trying to pursue it. Eren has expressed the love he holds for the 104th (and hopefully by extension, Levi and Hange, who have also been through a great deal with him). However, no matter how much he cares about them, he’s come to be a person who keeps moving forward with or without them - possibly to the point where he may even be willing to push them away. Levi gets it.

Eren Jaeger’s essence can never be changed.

As early as the Female Titan arc, Levi understood that Eren was someone who can’t be tamed or caged. And no matter how many times the story has tried to beat him down, he keeps moving forward. He keeps fighting. 

The novel ends with an excerpt from the poem “The Tyger,” although that requires a long winded essay I don’t want to clog up this post with. But in essence, it’s about a man looking onto the beast in awe of it’s beauty, but understanding its raw, primal power. The inclusion of this poem tells the reader that Levi is looking at Eren in this way. Regardless, Levi has been using his position and his role in Eren’s life to try and guide him down the best possible path, even if he’s not sure he always does a good job of it. But it’s enough to show that he cares about what Eren does with his power. 

Levi's role as a mentor/”big brother” to Eren

Levi was recently described as a character who is like a big brother to the 104th. And as we have seen throughout the story, he has guided and mentored them. Most notably we have seen this through his interactions with EMA. In the case of Eren, we have seen Levi repeatedly offer him advice, understanding and concern:

Chapters 25 & 26 - When Eren accidentally transformed and his squad turned their blades on him, Levi was quick to step in between them, stating that his intuition is guiding him to believe Eren is not a threat. This is the first show of understanding we see from Levi when it comes to Eren’s intentions and what he wants to do. Eren isn’t a traitor. He wants to help the Survey Corps and Levi sees and understands that. This was very profound at the time, given no one was willing to trust in Eren other than his friends since childhood. It was especially jarring, given that Levi had vowed to take Eren down if he did anything wrong.

When everything is sad and done, Levi checks in on Eren to see how he’s feeling.

Chapter 26 - After Eren’s accidental transformation, Levi offers Eren words of advice, explains why his squad turned their blades to him, and also is sure to make Eren understand that they did not enjoy doing it. That they want to have faith in Eren. He’s been real and honest with Eren since the very beginning, but he’s always managed to do so in a way that helps Eren to understand and is never overly harsh toward him.

Chapter 25 - Levi’s iconic “no regrets” speech. When Eren is discouraged from acting on his own accord in favor of trusting in his comrades, Levi gives Eren words of advice on the spot. He encourages Eren to make his own decision - to trust his intuition, and make the choice he will regret the least. Eren even believed in retrospect that if he had transformed, Levi may have fought alongside him. This scene is always a good one to come back to when looking at their overall relationship and Eren’s development as an individual. 

When Eren chose to put himself in the hands of others, they ended up dead. But later, when Eren is faced with other tough decisions, believing in himself is what saved them. When it comes to the current events of the manga, I think that this mentality is holding up strongly with Eren. He must believe in himself and his own strength if he is to accomplish anything. Levi, having given him this advice, is in a position to understand his line of thinking. 

Chapter 32 - After Squad Levi is killed by the Female Titan, Eren blames himself for it completely. He believes that putting his faith in them is the wrong choice and what led to their deaths. Levi watches Eren as he laments his decision, he really soaks in the fact that Eren is carrying that burden, and chooses to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. He had no way to know that things would turn out that way, and he shouldn’t put the burden on himself over it. Levi is extending to him kind understanding in the wake of loss and trying to alleviate the burden.

Chapter 53 - Eren and Levi are motivated by similar goals. Eren seeks freedom and Levi validates this by stating that he wants the same thing. The walls stink, they are suffocating. They live in a cage like livestock. Similar ideologies. Levi fights for his people and it’s something Eren wants to do as well. This is a way in which they can relate to each other. Even in the current timeline of the manga, they both want what’s best for their people. 

Chapter 66 - Eren is under pressure, and Levi knows he’s about to add onto it. He apologizes for it. It’s a scene that shows Levi doesn’t want to keep putting the burden of pressure on Eren. That he verbally expressed as much is, in my view, a big deal for both the readers, and Eren.

Chapter 70 - When Eren is overexerting himself, Levi is the first one to notice and offer him a hand. As Levi is helping Eren out and showing him compassion, he also notes his concern about the toll it’s taking on his body and advising Hange to take it easy. Despite this, Eren insists that they keep making weapons with his power so they can get to Shiganshina. Here I’m sure Levi can also see that Eren is willing to push himself past his limits. It’s another reason for him to try and look out for Eren.

Chapter 89 - After the events of the serumbowl, Levi isn’t seen holding anything above Eren’s head. In fact, when he can see Eren is visibly distressed, he tells Hange to lay off of him and let it rest. Something Eren really needed at the time. 

Unrelated to the pane above, he heard Eren out during the serumbowl, and he also reminded him not to regret his choices. He isn’t seen holding Eren’s choices against him, once again showing us that he has an understanding that Eren is only doing what he thinks are the best decisions he can make. 

Overall, with the exception of the altercation during the serumbowl, Levi has always been on Eren’s side. I doubt that Eren has let this all go completely unnoticed. I think it would be foolish to assume Eren would be willing to toss aside someone who has been so supportive and patient with him in a world that's primarily viewed him as a tool, a symbol, or a monster. Whatever Zeke has offered him, he doesn't have the history with Eren that Levi has, nor do they have years of trust building between them.

Which brings me to the reason I pointed out the term “big brother.” Levi and Zeke have already been compared via their roles as leaders of their respective groups. They are a contrast to each other:

Levi is a survivalist who looks out for the well being of his peers and subordinates first. He is generally a defensive fighter, only attacking when provoked or threatened. Zeke, from what we have seen so far, is an offensive fighter. He is the one who picks fights, schemes and launches the attacks.

Similarly, their differences can apply to their relationships with Eren and how they each approach him individually as well. We can say with certainty, based on everything above, that Levi cares about Eren as a person, but can we say the same for Zeke? The only hint we have on how he feels about Eren is the time he said that Eren was brainwashed and that he would save him. 

We still have yet to learn about the Yeager brothers' relationship as it is now. Are they in it together? Do they care about one another? Are they using each other? Deceiving each other? It's a big question mark but I believe the real answer to it will decide the way that Eren and Levi both ultimately sway in the end.

Levi has been “like a big brother” to Eren, whereas there is a chance his real big brother may only be treating him as a tool.

Of course, we also must call to question Levi's faith in Eren and whether he still trusts him or not. It's clear he doesn't trust Zeke, but is he willing to reluctantly move forward with a plan if Eren truly believes it to be the best one? Levi has expressed an open mind when it comes to the secret plan. Is this because he still has faith in Eren going with the best plan possible to try and save everyone? I think he’s erring on the side of caution for now. Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Still, I can’t imagine he would take action against Eren unless provoked. Eren would have to be the aggressor here. 

They need to talk about things. And Levi is always ready to talk to Eren when something is up and he has questions. For example, when Eren revealed the truth about Historia and how he didn’t want to say anything in order to protect her. Levi wanted to hear him out but left it for a later time.

One thing we haven’t gotten over the time skip is Levi’s perspective. While Eren continues to talk about fighting the enemy, rejecting the sacrifice of Historia and refusing to rely on the rumbling, Armin and Hange have talked about reaching out, diplomacy, paving a pathway of peace. Levi has expressed neither agreement nor disdain for any of these things. Rather, he has remained as a quieter, almost background character in recent chapters. I’ve talked before about how I think it’s possible he is privy to what the Yeager brothers have up their sleeves. If Zeke’s goals are truly good, then he has no reason to oppose Eren. If Zeke’s intentions are bad and Eren is falling for it, again, I see Levi as one of the few people who would be able to reach out and get through to him due to their similar mindsets and shared history.

Only if Eren and Zeke both have bad intentions do I think Levi would step up and oppose Eren. And although this is just my personal view, I still have faith that Eren is doing what he believes to be the best choice to save the people he cares about. But we still have yet to see if he’s started to walk a much darker path than we’ve been presented thus far. 

Levi's reaction to Eren in Liberio

The kick was harsh, yes, but it is the exchange that they shared that is so very telling:

Levi is genuinely hurt. He doesn't like seeing Eren this way. He compares him to the pitiful people in the underground and laments, “You, too.” It’s another person that Levi has grown to care about who is simply “becoming a slave to something” and discarding parts of himself in order to accomplish his goal. Eren used to have so much fire and passion in his eyes and the blaze has started to burn out, replaced by something colder. Levi can tell there is something different about Eren now and it pains him. 

Eren notices this. 

Levi then expresses his distaste for the current situation toward Zeke, asking him if everything went the way he wanted it to. Zeke got what he wanted, and now Eren looks lifeless. Thanks, bud. 

This leads me to my next point.

Levi seems to be exhibiting defensiveness about Eren

We haven’t had many interactions between Zeke and Levi just yet. However, all the banter aside, this panel gave us a huge clue that after Zeke mentions wanting to meet Eren, Levi’s glare seems to worsen, as Zeke makes note of it. While Levi can agree with Zeke that they don’t have all the time in the world, it also seems as though he’s not happy about Zeke pressing the issue of meeting up with Eren.

Levi has been asking Zeke the same things over and over while they’ve been waiting in the forest, trying to figure out the kind of person Zeke really is and whether he is being honest or not. Naturally, of course, he cares about the island as a whole, which is a huge contributing factor to this behavior. But I might be bold to suggest that he’s also trying to figure out what his next move is going to be regarding Eren and whether he’ll be able to protect him from Zeke if he’s truly a liar. This is, of course, just speculation on my part at this point. 

The Forest and potential parallelism

The three of these characters are most likely going to reunite in the Forest of Giant Trees, where Eren once had to make a hard choice - the choice that he made that allowed his comrades to be killed. 

Once again, a choice is probably going to have to be made here. Either Levi will try to persuade Eren to step back from Zeke, or Eren will have to convince Levi to work with them. While theoretically this could lead to a “fight,” I think at worst it would be a verbal altercation. Remember where they are. Levi and Zeke are in the forest specifically because titans have the disadvantage against the 3DMG here. 

A few final points

Just as we don’t have Levi’s perspective, we’re kind of in the dark about Eren as of the current timeline as well. We still don’t know why he went to Marley or what he and Zeke discussed there. There’s also the chekov’s gun about him potentially being controlled by Zeke rather than acting of his own accord (Although I personally... am not a fan of this, but it’s possible and the story introduced the concept). This is the only thing that I can see being a physical danger to Levi, as I firmly believe Eren wouldn’t attack him normally. That being said, I do believe that Isayama is purposefully making us question Eren to throw the readers off.

The only thing Eren and Zeke want right now is just to get to each other because they are pressed for time. Eren is still determined to see whatever they’re planning through before Historia has to become a sacrifice. Eren’s goal has been stated over and over - he wants to protect the people he loves, not get them hurt and killed. I’m sure Levi feels similarly. 

I feel like if anything, an “Eren vs. Zeke” showdown is something far more likely to happen. Especially if Zeke turns out to truly be “the bad guy” and takes actions that Eren knows will hurt his friends. That being said, it’s something that would happen later down the road rather than in the forest at the beginning of a new arc. 

Anyway, all of the things above are why I’m certain we’re not going to see a “Levi vs. Eren” showdown happen in the forest. To me, it feels like it would be a waste of their character development and the importance their relationship has had on the story. Eren and Levi have been shown to acknowledge and care about each other. They have inspired each other and have given each other hope in many situations. I’d hate to see Isayama just throw that all out the window after all of the buildup. If anything, I feel that the buildup is leading to a moment where Levi will have to help bring the Eren we are familiar with back to the forefront if Eren’s childhood friends are unable to do it on their own.