#the only time a love triangle has ever genuinely amused me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zodiakuroo · 3 years ago

Text

Envy

EreMika is the villa’s top couple. Reader is hoping to turn one of their heads.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ characters, a good ol' fashioned love triangle, possessive behaviour, dom/sub dynamics, lil angst + lotsa pining, threesome, the sex is kinda messy but so is everything else

Word count: 10.5k (yes it's proofread but it's also kinda not)

Notes: For @doinmybesthere’s love island collab! happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

Lush, mediterranean forests, thick with leaves and the wonder of adventure hidden inside.

Snow white, sandy beaches

Cerulean waters that sparkle in the sunlight and stretch to the edge of the horizon

The view from the infinity pool really is magnificent.

“You and Armin look good together.”

“You think so?” You murmur nonchalantly. The dark shades that cover your eyes dim your surroundings, making it all the more easy for you to see the brilliant figure in front of you.

“You don’t?” Mikasa cocks her head to the side, jet black bangs sweeping across her forehead.

“Armin’s a great guy. He’s my type on paper but… I dunno… I guess I wanna keep my options open.” You chew on your bottom lip, hoping she’ll change the subject. You can’t help the guilt that sits heavy on your heart.

The ‘you’ on the outside would never do something like this. Lead on some poor, innocent soul so you can stay close to the true object of your affections, biding your time until you can confess. Only when you’re certain that said love interest is free to be yours.

“Well, I still think you should lock him down before the recoupling. I don’t want you to get sent home.” Her gentle voice chases away any shame, kind eyes reminding you how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Oh you’d miss me?” You adjust your sunglasses, propping them atop your head, slowly wading towards her

“Of course you idiot.” She deadpans, kicking at the water, splashing in your face a little. You squeak in surprise and retreat a little. “You’re my best friend in the villa.”

If guilt is gnawing at you from one end, on the other end is bitterness, frustration slowly building towards a fever pitch.

Still, you don’t want to think about that now. You’ll only sour this moment for yourself. It’s rare that you get her full attention like this these days.

In the beginning, you two were inseparable almost from the jump. Both of you were a little more on the reserved side, especially stepping into such unusual circumstances. Naturally, you gravitated toward each other. Simply being in each other’s presence was enough to bring both of you out of your respective shells. That was the chemistry between you and Mikasa.

But when he dug his claws into her, your crush became one half of the strongest couple in the villa, leaving you behind to bury your own feelings.

Normally he’s stuck to her like a leech with his arms hanging around her like chains as if he’s afraid she’ll make a break for it any second. Like he’s afraid she’ll realise she’s too good to be catering to his every whim, too good to put up with his moodiness and too smart to fall for his charming front.

“Are you hoping someone new will come into the villa?” Someone ‘more your type’?” She uses air quotations to copy your words.

“Not exactly.” You start, distracted by the way she adjusts her bikini top, the soft flesh bouncing ever so slightly underneath her red bikini. The skin on her nose and on the apples of her cheeks are branded a similar shade thanks to the summer sun.

Your heart thrums against the ungiving wall of your chest, as you drift slowly towards her again, this time until you’re so close you feel her feet, drifting underwater at your waist. “I already have my eye on someone.” You answer as truthfully as possible.

“Are you gonna tell me who?” She furrows her brows curiously as you wrap your fingers around her ankles, slowly moving them up to rest on her calves. You use the position to pull yourself closer to her, until your chin rests on her knees. She leans down, as though she expects you to whisper the name of your crush into her ear.

You press yourself on to tip toes, to meet her halfway. Time seems to slow as you try to figure out what to do.

Lie? Confess? Kiss her?

But time doesn’t slow and-

SPLASH

You don’t get a chance to respond after your moment is ruined with an icy splash from behind you.

“Fucking hell!” You scream swatting water in his direction.

Right on cue.

“Eren what the fuck!” Mikasa scowls at him, clearly not amused either.

“I was just messing with you guys.” The sound of his cheery laugh may as well be nails on a chalkboard to you. “Sorry babe.” He pouts.

He takes up your spot by nudging you out of the way ever so subtly. Except it’s not really subtle. Not to you anyways. It’s pretty reminiscent of when he pushed you to the side when the two of them got together. He’s telling you to remember your place.

“Grow up Jaeger.” You roll your eyes.

With his arrival, discomfort sets into your bones. She accepts his apology almost instantly as always, easily placated with simple kisses. Innocent enough at first, starting over her knees but bit by bit his lips move further and further up her thigh, until she’s pushing him away murmuring “Not here.” As if he cared…

Watching them together, the picture of lovestruck, from a distance is nauseating enough, today you don’t have the willpower to experience it firsthand as a third wheel.

You’re about to excuse yourself when you hear Sasha yell from the opposite end of the pool. “Hey guys! I’ve got a text!”

Everyone shuffles closer, awaiting the message with quiet apprehension. When Sasha opens the message she gasps before reading it, making everyone’s anxiety grow tenfold.

“You don’t have to be a math genius to know that 1+1+1 = a crowd. It’s time to simplify the equation. Eren and ______ , get ready for a date! #LoveTriangle”

All eyes are on you in an instant and you resist the urge to duck down under the water to hide from the cameras. You wonder briefly if it would be easier to breathe down there, rather than up here where the tension is suffocating. Your fellow islanders are murmuring amongst each other but the words are indiscernible, muffled by the blood rushing to your head, face burning hot with embarrassment.

Everyone around you is wearing variations of the same expression; confusion. Sure they all had theories about you and Mikasa. Not that you were exactly subtle about it. Often touches that would linger for just a little bit too long, you would always lean in just a little too close when helping her with her makeup and many a time you’d been caught staring at her from afar. It’s just a little too intimate to be completely platonic but not intimate enough to be considered anything but a friendship. Then again, you never even had a chance to take it further because the only person who didn’t seem to notice was the ever oblivious Mikasa, not when she couldn’t see past the brunette boy with the striking jade eyes.

Now, looking at those very eyes you notice how they’ve lost their usual playfulness. As the exception to the bewildered expressions around you, he looks cold and unreadable. Then the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes but big enough for him to flash his sharp white canines at you.

Mikasa has her eyes fixed to her hands in her lap, picking at her nails (a nervous habit she once told you). She refuses to look at neither you nor Eren.

You want to explain but the right words are nowhere to be found. Right here and now, in front of everyone (including the person she’s currently coupled up with) is not how you wanted her to find out. But you have to say something, anything to take away the melancholy that is so obviously weighing her down, but the words are stuck in your throat and before you can swallow that lump, he interjects.

“I wanna talk to Mikasa real quick.” He addresses you directly. “Why don’t you go ahead and get ready?” He phrases it as a suggestion but it’s more of an order. And just like that, your emotions flip to irritation. Who is he to tell you what to do? Even now, he wants a monopoly of her time and attention. As if your relationship (even just as a friend) might not also be damaged because of this.

And it’s not fair. You have to speak to her as well. You need to tell her that-

“It’s fine.” Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, being mindful of the cameras. It’s obviously not genuine, you can tell but you also know that she’s not one to show her true feelings, especially not publicly like this. But this feels too much for her and that brave face has never been more transparent.

Still, her slate gray irises meet yours. “I’ll be inside to help you get ready in a minute.”

You give an equally artificial smile and then swim across to the other side of the pool, where Sasha lends you her hand to pull you out of the water.

The car ride was awkward at best, insufferable at worst. You and Eren weren’t on friendly terms to begin with. Aside from the fact that he was coupled up with your crush, it was safe to say that being alone with him is not something you would ever have done willingly.

Where you found him loud and obnoxious, Mikasa found him excitable and bubbly. Where you saw him as stubborn, Mikasa saw him as driven and headstrong. Where you thought him impulsive and reckless, Mikasa thought him brave and spontaneous. When you said that he was rude and crass, Mikasa would say he was opinionated and outspoken.

It wasn’t as though she couldn’t see the bad sides of Eren but it was that she cared for him in spite of those things. Loyal to a fault she was. You let out a heavy sigh, thinking how much worse that makes all this. She must feel as though the loyalty she felt towards both you and Eren had been spat back into her face.

Silently you stare out the window, head turned away from him. A rare moment when you don’t feel the presence of camera lenses watching your every move.

Your brain is constantly replaying the last conversation you had with Mikasa. True to her word, she did help you choose an outfit and style your hair. But that natural comfort was gone.

No. That’s not true. The bond may be strained but it’s not broken. You can still do something to fix it. But neither of you were willing to address the elephant in the room.

Well, that's not exactly it.

It’s that neither of you knew how to.

Stood in front of the full length mirror, you took one last look at yourself, smoothing out the front of your sundress, but caught her sad gaze in the reflection behind you.

“Hey ____. Earlier, when you said you had your eye on someone. Were you talking about Eren?” Her voice was hushed but you feel it in your viscera, like a sharp kick that leaves you winded

You know what she’s thinking. What everyone is thinking. That you were going to swoop in and steal your best friend’s partner. And you can’t blame her because that’s exactly what it looks like.

But you didn’t betray her, you would never.

You want her. Not him.

It’s almost as though you’ll never get a chance to set the record straight. Before you could even try you were being shooed out the door.

Now at the table, you fiddle with the stem of your glass, resisting your body’s command to down the whole thing. Sitting here in silence with him for 2 hours may as well be torture if you were completely sober but it sure as hell would be better than talking to him.

Eren doesn’t seem to share your sentiments and is the first to break the silence.

“I know you don’t like me.” He says before taking a sip of his drink. “All this bullshit about a love triangle is ‘cause you like my girlfriend. Right?”

He flashes you his signature cocky smirk, one of the many things about Eren Jaeger that seem to irk you to no end.

“I mean she’s technically not your girlfriend.” You say as a feeble retort.

You are right. She’s not his girlfriend because he’s never asked her. Life in the villa was harsh like that. If your relationship wasn’t official, anyone was fair game. Really the only thing that had stopped you from making your move was the painful gnaw of your insecurity. The deep-rooted belief that she would never choose you over him. Just the idea of public rejection, in front of your friends, family and god-knows how many other people, puts the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.

“Like that fucking matters.” He leans back in his chair, long legs spread wide. At least you didn’t bother denying it, he thinks. But why would you, Eren is many things but he isn’t stupid. The way you stare at Mikasa all dreamy eyed, following her around like a stray puppy. When you two are together, he doesn’t like how you sit so close, always whispering and giggling at god knows what. You’re entirely too comfortable, letting her lay her head in your lap while you play with her hair. Small things like that add up, it’s not hard to fingers out what you true intentions are.

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Why would he be jealous of someone who doesn’t even have the balls to go after what they want? You just… bother him. You could have your pick of literally anyone in the villa but no. Instead, you’re always hovering around, waiting for him to fuck up so you can play the role of comforting best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Extra bravado backs your voice. You know this act. He’s trying to intimidate you. You always thought Eren saw himself as untouchable but the way his jaw ticks makes you wonder for a brief moment, is he threatened by you?

“Scared of a little competition? I think you’re on the wrong show.”

“Oh please.” He scoffs before picking up his glass again. “You’re no competition sweetheart.”

“Famous last words.” You hum condescendingly, before bringing your fork to your mouth, letting the food pass your lips.

He clenches his jaw tighter. Being able to push his buttons in this way is something you’re very proud of right now.

He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and says. “You know. I actually had my eye on you in the beginning.”

The bite of food seems to lodge itself in your throat, eyes bugging out of your head. You cough and sputter, quickly gulping down your drink to try and move the lump into your stomach.

“Surprised?” His voice takes on a much deeper tone.

You don’t reply, too busy fumbling for a napkin to wipe down the edges of your mouth so he continues. “Yeah. You’re hot, obviously. But also real feisty. Fun to tease and ease to get a rise out of. My type. But Mikasa…. I could tell she wanted me from the start and if I wanted to stay in this competition, I couldn’t waste any time grafting on someone who was playing so hard to get.”

“So this is all a game to you then?” You say through gritted teeth, both hands squeezing tightly around the cutlery you’re holding. All your anger is bundled up by a thin thread, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

“I think you’re a little confused. Isn’t that exactly what this is?” He rests his chin on his palm, wearing that same chilling smile from earlier.

“You’re a real piece of shit. You know that?” You don’t want to lose your temper. Doing that means that you’ve given the upper hand back to him. Too bad you’re doing a terrible job of keeping it under control.

“Oh come on.” He laughs as if any of this is funny. “Its not like I’m leading her on.” Sharp as a dagger, those words jab themselves right in your gut. They’re a painful reminder that you don’t deserve to take the moral high ground. Thinking about what you’ve done to Armin, you may even be worse than he is.

“If I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t be bringing her tea in the morning, or making sure she ate.” Eren leans across the table, voice low and gravely. “Or making her cream all over my fingers every night while you and everyone else are fast asleep.”

You pick up the wine glass with the intention of covering his smarmy face in the blood red liquid.

Eren quirks brow at you, watching and waiting to see if you have the nerve. Because he knows that you don’t. If you did, you would have told Mikasa how you feel already. If you did, you would haven’t have latched on to the sweetest person in the villa as a fail safe. If you did, his pristine white shirt would have been stained burgundy by now.

Eren thinks you’re a coward and there’s nothing he hates more than that.

“Could have been you.” He sits back again. “Sorry I beat you to it.”

Your reception upon return to the villa is fairly mixed. Everyone is already dolled up with a drink in hand, the party in full swing.

Some people are glad to see you guys back, eagerly asking questions about the date. They might be genuinely curious as to how it went, interested in the development of new relationships or the survival of the villa’s power couple in the face of this challenge

Or they might just be in it for the drama, looking for gossip fodder. Wanting to know the details so they can go to the confessional booth and talk about how terrible of a person you are and how they would “never do anything like that to a friend”.

Other people greet you with disdain, people who would have been friendly with you mere hours ago. Armin is well liked in the villa, boyishly handsome with a kind heart. He’s a bit of a flirt at times but has never done anything with bad intentions. Of course everyone is fond of him. It’s only natural that you would look like the villain for stringing him along all this time, while he was developing genuine feelings for you.

Armin himself was angry of course, but it’s nothing if not deserved. You thought he would rage at you, call you selfish and cruel but he didn’t. Because Armin is a better person than you. You wanted to explain to him that you never meant to hurt him, but that wouldn’t mean anything because you did. In fact it would probably upset him more to hear that he was just an accidental casualty. A meek “I’m sorry” was the best you could offer. A nod and an impassive expression is all he offered in return, walking away to join Jean and some others on the daybed.

As for your date, you can feel his glare from all the way behind you as you make your way across the lawn to the bar. Mikasa is sitting on one of the stools with Sasha.

“Hey.” You interrupt Sasha’s animated chatter.

“Oh hey.” She turns to face you. While you’ve been gone she’s had time to build her defences up again, appearing stunningly neutral, not a hint of listlessness she couldn’t hide earlier. “How was the date?”

The first thing you think is She looks gorgeous tonight. But she always does.

The second thing you think is It’s time to grow a pair. Now or never.

You can still remember the sad look in her eyes from this afternoon. The thought still has your heart sitting in the pit of your stomach. The idea that it was a hurt you caused makes you want to throw it back up.

“It was…” You pause to find the right word. “Fine.” you decide on. You could have lied and said it was good but that’s probably not what she wants to hear. You could have been honest and said you would have had a better time removing your own wisdom teeth with a butter knife but that’s not the point. The date was irrelevant anyways, simple misunderstanding that you need to clear up right now. “But actually, I was wondering if I could pull you for a chat?”

Sasha hops off her chair, wobbling a bit as she lands. “Why don’t you guys stay here? I'm gonna go find Connie.” She places her hand on your shoulder, her own way of giving you a little courage.

You mouth a thank you that she meets with a wink before leaving.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the front of your dress, taking the seat across from her. Your mouth is dry and once again you can’t find the words to tell her how you feel.

Why can’t you just say it?

“So Armin is pretty mad at me. I’ll probably crash on the daybed tonight.”

You colossal idiot! You scream internally.

Once again you’re dancing around what you truly want to say.

Mikasa digs her clipped fingernails into her palm, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, dam threatening to break at any second. After everything, that’s what you came here to say? She knows it’s not your fault that you two didn’t get to talk before you left but you don’t think she deserves an explanation now?

At least Eren had the decency to come to her after. He didn’t say much except reassured her that nothing happened and he wasn’t interested in coupling up with anyone else.

Still, it didn’t quell Mikasa’s insecurity.

She’s never been jealous before in her life but this must be it. It feels like someone has dug into her chest and is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until her poor heart is nothing but a crumpled mess.

If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have hurt less. Now she’s so afraid that she's losing you to Eren and she's losing Eren to you and in the end, she’s the one left with nothing.

“Yeah he was pretty upset when you left.” With her elbow on the counter top, she rests her chin in her palm. You’re used to her stoic expression because you know if you look long enough, carefully enough you’ll see how soft she is. But this is different. There is nothing but cold, hard steel behind her eyes.

“I deserve it though. I shouldn’t have strung him along like that.”

“Yeah I’d be mad too.” The bitter edge to her voice is one that you’ve never heard her use towards you. You try hard not to take it personally, she’s only mad because she doesn’t understand. You have to set the record straight.

Now or never right?

“Mikasa look. I have to tell you something. I-”

“I’VE GOT A TEXT!” Jean announces, getting in the way of your confession.

“For fuck’s sake.” You mutter under your breath.

It’s pretty obvious at this point that the producers have you on their hit list but as Jean reads aloud the message, it only becomes clearer that they must have some personal vendetta against you.

“Eren, you get to spend the night in the hideaway with the islander of your choice. #DecisionsDecisons”

It’s an easy decision so Eren doesn’t give it much deliberation.

But his choice shocks everyone.

“_____. It’s you and me tonight.”

Even after what transpired this afternoon, your relationship with Mikasa was salvageable but this… you don’t think it will survive

Without a word, she hops off her seat, storming into the villa without sparing a glance at anyone else.

It might have been the final nail in the coffin for his relationship with her as well.

Alone in the hideaway, you nervously tug at the silk sheets, bunching the fabric between your fingers.

You’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes, sat in your pyjamas, a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts. The possibility that Eren would stand you up becomes more and more likely. Why he would do all this instead of just choosing Mikasa is beyond you but you know better than to waste precious brain cells trying to figure out Eren Jaeger. If he did plan on leaving you alone here for the night, it was probably for the best. At least you could sleep in a room by yourself for the first time in ages. A small consolation.

Just as you start to contemplate turning off the lights and calling it a night, you hear the door of the room creak open.

Eren walks in still dressed in his jeans and white linen shirt and kicks off his shoes.

“Look Jaeger. I don’t know what you want from me but I’m not interested in playing your games. I-“

The rest of your sentence evaporates when Mikasa appears from behind him. You jump to your feet, fully prepared to leave. Did he bring you here just to humiliate you? If that’s the case then he’s had more than his fill, you won’t let him have any more fun at your expense.

“Not interested you say?” Eren raises his eyebrow, as he gently nudges Mikasa forward.

You should go but your feet just won’t move when she stands square with you. “What’s going on?” You ask, as your chest grows tighter, with every second that ticks by.

“Do you-” she pauses, after a silence that dragged on for much too long. “Do you like me?”

Everything about it is innocent; question, the tone, the way she looks at you. But now your heart is beating so ridiculously loud that you can’t think straight. She asks you so bluntly that you feel stupid for how long you’ve spent agonising over how you would confess. Unlike you, she’s never struggled to get to the point.

Behind her, Eren wears a poorly concealed smile and that’s confirmation of the obvious. You don’t know what he told her but it’s obvious she knows this much. There’s no reason to deny it now.

“Yeah.”

You had rehearsed it countless times, thought about all the flowery words you would use to tell her how you feel. Yeah is not as eloquent as what you had in mind but it would have to do.

“Oh.” Her blush deepens, blending perfectly with the red and pink hues of the dimly lit room.

Mikasa is still shocked, she didn’t really believe Eren when he told her. Granted, at the time she wasn’t really interested in what he had to say seeing as he had just publicly humiliated her. Hearing you say it now makes her rethink everything, from those early days up until now.

She’s seen people chop and change partners with every new face that comes in and out of the villa but that was never her. To her, she already had Eren so there was no need to consider anyone else. But now that she knows how you feel, things are different.

“Hmm. Oh.” You mimic followed by a dry chuckle.

It’s not the response you had dreamed about but what did you expect? Yes you’ve confessed but this wasn’t your moment. It wasn’t the one you’d been waiting weeks for. Ultimately, that moment never came and maybe that was a sign that you and Mikasa just weren’t meant to be.

The big room now feels too small for three people. There's not enough space. There’s not enough air. You need to leave. You need to-

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” She steps closer to you. There is no malice in her tone. A simple question with a simple answer but you can’t pick up if this is a rejection or not.

“I didn’t know if you liked girls.” You mumble, taking a step back.

It’s not the reason. Maybe it’s one of them but you just needed the space to think. To breathe. But the back of your legs hit the bed and once again your backside is on the soft cushion of the mattress.

She moves even closer until her knees knock against yours.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” She shakes her head and cups your face with both hands so you look at her face, her smile (even though it’s only slight) alleviates the tension in your chest. “If I like someone, I like them and… I think I like you.

The relief that you feel meets an untimely demise when Eren approaches the bed. He pulls her body flush against his chest.

You truly were something. Here he was making it easy for you but you still can’t say what you want. A coward.

He whispers something inaudible into her ear and now you have both of them looking down at you. This is the smallest you’ve ever felt, wanting to shrink even further under their scrutinising gaze. Still, you feel a familiar tingle just buzzing in your lower belly as they size you up.

She tilts her head to the side, granting Eren access to her neck which he accepts. He plants soft wet kisses across the expanse of pale skin. Pink tongue and white teeth appear every now and then as he leaves bruises and bite marks on the, once flawless, canvas. Her eyes fall closed as she writhes in his hold, grinding her rear on to his crotch. His hands wander, underneath the hem of her short dress, exposing more of her milky thighs, black lace panties just barely visible. She hums, finally opening her eyes, to look at you, her thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks.

You can’t imagine how you look right now but you know how you feel. Your head is spinning from the erotic scene in front of you, clenching your thighs to alleviate some of the heat you feel, breathing heavily even though all you’re doing is watch, sitting there in your cartoon pajamas.

Mikasa gasps as he digs his teeth into her neck especially hard, leaving behind the dents of his incisors.

“Focus.” He murmurs into the crook of her neck.

You don’t know what he means but you can’t exactly blame her. If there were hands squeezing and clawing up your thighs, never reaching where you actually need them. If there was a tongue sliding over the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth raking over the same sore spots over and over again before soothing them with featherlight kisses and kitten licks. If you were in her place, you wouldn’t be able to focus either.

“I- I’ve never been with a girl though.”

Your mouth dries up at the promise of her words. There’s no way she means….

“But Eren said he’d help.”

Help?

There’s no chance for you to stop and question once he unzips her dress, letting it fall off her body, leaving her in her underwear in front of you. You can’t stop yourself from shamelessly raking your eyes over her body.

Yes, you’ve spent days with her, lounging around in swimsuits but this feels new. Maybe it’s the way the black lace cups the curves of her breasts, budding nipples just barely visible through the sheer fabric. Or maybe it’s the way the matching fabric only just covers her pussy, that’s just mere inches from your face. She’s so close you can practically smell her. Your tongue dips out to moisten your lips, practically dying to taste her.

Perhaps the biggest difference comes in the smouldering way she looks down at you, it’s the same desire you’ve had in your eyes for weeks, finally being reflected back at you.

Your hands twitch atop your thighs, itching to do something.

Touch her.

Touch yourself.

Anything.

She tugs at the sleeve of your shirt and that's all the instruction you need. You pull your shirt over your head, perhaps with a little more eagerness than necessary. While Eren unhooks the other woman’s bra, flinging it across the room. You feel your nipples harden instantly but you can’t be sure if it’s because it’s due to the cold air of the room or the heat of her stare on your chest.

Mikasa straddles you, stepping free from Eren’s hold. From the corner of your eye you see him unbutton his shirt but you can’t focus on him for too long. Not when your bare chests are pressed together. Both of you shudder as your nipples graze against each other and you feel the heat of her cunt radiate onto yours. You hear the sound of heavy breathing, you can’t tell if it’s hers or yours. You can smell her perfume, intoxicatingly sweet jasmine and amber. Her pupils are already blown wide, only a thin grey ring that lines the pitch black of her iris. You see your reflection of yourself in them and you can only imagine that she is seeing something similar. Mikasa has literally taken over all of your senses, all except for one.

She’s so close to you, she must be able to tell that your heart is racing. Her nose bumps against yours ever so softly. You’re almost too scared to even move. Everything about this moment feels like a dream, what if you close that millimeter gap and it ends?

But you know it's real when her petal soft lips press against yours. It can’t be anything but real when she kisses you, gently as though you might break. You can’t help but want more, slipping your tongue past her lips. And finally you taste her and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You swallow all the sounds she makes as you lick the inside of her mouth, lips sliding against each other. Every whimper makes you hungry for more so you kiss her deeper, massaging her tongue with yours.

Puffs of air escape through your nose, but both of you are much too desperate to stop the kiss for something as trivial as breathing. It’s not worth losing the feeling of her mouth on yours.

Before long, your hands are wandering, trailing over the curve of her ass, rubbing over thin fabric that moulds to her body, tracing the intricate patterns of the lace. Her hand glides up your torso gripping the soft breast in her palms, making you moan into her mouth. She smiles into the kiss, rolling your nipple between her fingertips, sending small shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You maneuver her body, rocking her back and forth on your lap. It’s not nearly enough friction. You’re dying to get rid of the fabric that separates you. You want to feel skin to skin how wet she is for you. You want her to know how unbelievably wet you are for her. You fiddle around trying to adjust the position, trying to get her closer to where you need her.

“Baby.” A deep voice cuts through the tension in the room. For a moment you’d forgotten he was there at all.

Much to your chagrin, Mikasa pulls away from the kiss. You’re both left panting with your lips swollen. Your heart sinks as you come to the realisation that this is as far as everything would go. One searingly passionate kiss and nothing more. You couldn’t imagine a crueler fate.

Mikasa looks over her shoulder for Eren’s instruction.

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, toned muscles rippling with the motion, and stalks over to the bed. “On your knees.”

Obediently, she sinks to the floor, kneeling in front of you with Eren directly behind her. Yes, you just made out with his girlfriend right in front of him but suddenly you’re self-conscious being half naked in front of him.

He’s staring at you and not in the ‘ogling your tits kind of way’. It’s like he’s sizing you up, breaking you down with just his eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

You blink down Mikasa, not believing your ears but you heard the words yourself, clear as day. Eren does nothing but stare, expression unreadable. The room is quiet as they wait for you to answer.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod hesitantly.

Mikasa helps you shuffle out of your shorts and panties in one go, leaving you fully naked. Your legs are already shaking, resisting the urge to snap shut out of embarrassment. You can’t hide anything, not when she holds your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy to herself and Eren.

“Look how pretty she is, Eren.” Her voice is breathy. You’ve never heard her sound like this.

It’s because she’s in awe. Day in, day out you two would lounge around in swimsuits and not once did she picture this is how you would underneath them. Perhaps it’s better that she didn’t, because the thought would drive her crazy.

“Real pretty.” He hums in agreement. He can admit, your little display had him rock solid already. But god seeing you puffy cunt, lips already shiny and slick just from making out has him aching.

Mikasa slips two fingers between your folds, barely grazing your clit.

She pulls her fingers away admiring the way your slick webs between them. She holds her hand up for Eren to see. “Real wet too.”

It proves too tempting for him to resist. Eren leans down to suck on her fingers, cleaning them of your arousal.

You wish you could deny how much it turns you on when you hear him moan at the taste of you on her fingers. But it does and you can only hope they didn't notice how you flinched at the sound.

“You wanna taste her?” He teases when he notices her pout. He’s speaking to her but looking directly at you, pinning you under his gaze. “Then ask.”

“Can I eat you out?” She doesn’t miss a beat.

That tilts your whole world. Are you really sure you’re not dreaming? You nod, not trusting your own voice right now. Mikasa spreads your legs even wider but Eren stops her, firmly grasping the back of her neck.

“Nah. Don’t make it so easy on her. She has to use her big girl words.”

If you weren’t willing to take what you wanted, then he would give it to you. Eren is a nice guy like that. But he’s not that nice. If you wanted it, you were gonna have to say so.

“Right.” She agrees. “I’ll ask again. You gonna let me taste this pretty cunt?”

Eren’s throbbing behind his zipper. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk like that. It’s not a monster, more of a little green pest that buzzes around his brain asking him why she’s never said those kinds of things to him.

“Yes… please.” you answer hastily but neither of the two seem to share your urgency.

Mikasa’s touch returns, spreading your lips apart, only for her gawk at your dripping entrance, so close you feel her exhales on your skin.

The buzz in his head goes quiet because she’s waiting for his permission. She’s still his.

“Go on. Taste.” Eren whispers in her ear.

With one broad stroke, she drags her tongue across your cunt making your hips cant up towards her face, both of you searching for what the other has to give.

You will your eyes to stay open, hoping to brand the image of her between your thighs like this into the recesses of your brain. You don’t know if this will ever happen again and in case it doesn’t, you’ll have this memory.

Her tongue laps at your hole with the kind of excitement you can only hope to reciprocate by grabbing on to her silky hair, pushing her tongue further inside you. Not too hard, just enough to guide her in the direction.

She’s close. Right ther-

“Oi.” A smack echoes throughout the room. Eren is now knelt behind Mikasa, massaging the now sore flesh that was reddened by his hand.

Eren hated that you were a coward and he wanted you to take what you wanted but he’d forgotten that what you wanted was his.

Her attention is on him once again and the familiar jealousy starts to crackle in your belly. When Mikasa said that Eren would “help out” you didn’t think it meant him interrupting you two everytime you were starting to enjoy yourself. Of course it was naive of you to think that Eren would let you enjoy anything tonight. Maybe he did bring you here just to mess with you.

You hoist up your upper body to rest on your elbows just in time to see Eren take out his cock. Or rather he makes sure you see it. Gives you an excellent view in fact. It’s fully erect, bobbing against his abdomen while he gropes the flesh of her ass, giving her one more spank for good measure.

“You said you wanted to top right? Stop bein’ a fucking pushover.” He growls.

Her panties are pulled to the side, letting him press the fat, drooling head past her lips. You feel her breath come out in quick puffs against your thighs as she tries to accommodate his impressive girth. Inch by inch he’s filling her up until his hips press up right against her plush cheeks where he rests for a moment .

You look down to where her head rests on your thigh. Her face is scrunched up in either pleasure or pain, you can’t discern which.

Then Eren starts moving, slow and shallow at first and finally her eyelids flutter open. “I’m not done.” She digs her nails into your skin, making you wince. “Put that pussy back on my face.”

Eren lets out a satisfied noise. He really doesn’t know where she learned to talk like that. Even though she’s talking to you, he still feels it so he rewards her by snapping his hips faster, pulling out almost completely before ramming himself back in.

You don’t need to be told twice. Soon you’re back where you were a minute ago, Mikasa hopes to do the same, dipping her head low, already missing the taste of you on her tongue.

Sure she knows her way around her own body but she’s never eaten anyone out. She wonders if everyone tastes this sweet. Doubtful. She’s so eager for more wanting her tongue as close to the source as possible.

But before she can get there Eren chimes in.

“Nuh-uh baby. Go for the clit.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue because she knows that he’s helping her in the right direction. She can’t vouch for his skills, having had first hand experience. If she could learn to eat pussy half as good as Eren that would be enough to brag about.

She parts your slippery folds ever so delicately until she finds the swollen bud, that’s just throbbing for attention.

Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, tentatively flicking against it. She watches your face intently, taking careful note of your reaction. And what a reaction it is. Your thighs twitch beside her head, threatening to trap her between your thighs while you moan something that definitely sounds like her name.

She wants to hear it again to be sure.

“Spit on it.” He instructs her again.

You don’t think she will. The Mikasa you know would never do something so-

She doesn’t question his orders, cheeks hollowing out to collect her saliva that she allows to mix with your juices.

“See how messy she is? Fuckin’ sloppy.”

“So sexy.” She murmurs before diving for your clit again. Her tongue flicks at it haphazardly, she can’t get a good reach because of the way Eren’s thrusts shake her body. It feels good but you need more, shuffling down the bed until she can wrap her lips around the bundle of nerves. Everytime Eren hits just the right spot inside of her she moans against you, and you can feel the vibrations radiate from your pelvis up your spine.

While you’re so entranced by your own pleasure you don’t notice Eren’s lascivious stare. Mikasa being so eager to make you feel good should enrage him. He shouldn’t be this turned on, watching his girlfriend get on her knees for someone else, especially not you. But seeing the way, you’re so desperately trying to keep yourself from rutting against her face, nearly drawing blood from your bottom lip to try and keep yourself quiet. It’s adorable. But Mikasa has been too easy on you in his opinion and he doesn’t think you deserve ‘easy’. He wants to see your attitude breakdown bit by bit.

“Fingers. Use your fingers baby.” He prompts while slowing his thrusts, giving Mikasa more room to work.

One slender finger slides into your dripping cunt, feeling near no resistance on its way. Noticing how easily you take her, she’s quick to add a second, scissoring her fingers to stretch you out. High pitched ah ah ahs fall from your lips matching the rhythm of the drag of her fingers against your walls, the rhythm of Eren’s thrusts into her. It’s agonisingly slow, so she can enjoy the sight of you sucking her back in every time her fingers attempt to leave and admire the way your sticky arousal drips down her knuckles, onto the satin sheets.

Once Eren decides he’s had enough of that he picks up the pace again, meaning Mikasa has no choice but to follow suit. While her fingers pump in and out of you, she crooks them ever so slightly to try and find your g-spot.

When she prods at the spongy spot you go limp for just a second “Mikasa. Oh my god!” You squeal.

“Oho. She likes it.” Eren remarks, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Keep doing that.”

Mikasa is nothing if not diligent. She consistently aims for that spot while her tongue stimulates your clit, stroking it over and over again. You’re practically rushing towards an orgasm, stomach muscles already tightening up and white spots already clouding your vision.

“G-gonna. Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.” You stammer, teetering on the edge.

“You hear that baby?” Eren asks. “She wants to come for you.”

Eren tugs on her hair, pulling up her head so she can answer him, but all she can manage is a string of needy whimpers.

“What do you say? Hm?” He pulls harder, not satisfied with her response.

“Mm-ah. No.” She slips her fingers out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothings.

“Atta girl.” He praises her, beginning to fuck her in earnest now.

All you can do is watch as Eren fucks her stupid on his cock, driving her closer and closer to her peak while you feel your own pleasure dissapate into nothing.

A hazy fog has descended over her eyes, she’s looking at you but she’s so far gone that she may as well be looking past you.

Eren’s hair is messy, chocolatey strands framing his face, skin dewy with sweat. The heavy plap plap plap of his hips ramming into her ass is deafening. He catches you staring and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed although you do regret inflating his already sizeable ego.

“Tell her how it feels.” He hooks his middle finger into her cheek “Tell her how good my cock feels inside you.”

He has no issue with admitting he’s being petty but he wants you to see what he does to her.

No, scratch that.

He wants you to feel it. That deep hunger you have for Mikasa? He wants a share in it too. He wants you hungry like that for him too.

“Feelsh shhho good. Eren’shh cock feelsh sshoo good.” Her words are barely coherent, drool seeping from the corners of her mouth.

“Hmm. Ask her if she wants it.” He grunts.

“You want him to fuck you?” She slurs, words distorted by the obstructing force of his finger.

Do you?

Before you would swear up and down that you hated Eren. You still do. But Mikasa has gone delirious on his cock, mouth hanging open with her tongue lolling out, whining muffled “Eren Eren Eren”s even with him fish hooking her, and you can’t deny that it has you curious. It doesn’t help that you’re still desperate, from being left high and dry, poor empty pussy just begging for attention.

You shake your head yes and Mikasa’s hand comes down hard on your sore puffy clit. “Words.”

“Yes please.” You mewl. Tears prickle at your eyes from the sting between your legs. “Please. I want Eren to fuck me.”

“So well behaved.” Eren mocks you. “Hm?” He stops moving, still balls deep inside her.

“Good girl.” Mikasa practically purrs, lifting her head up once more. The small praise makes you feel flustered, desperate for more.

“Yeah?” His palm comes down hard on her ass. She almost sounds delighted at the pain. “What are you gonna do for your good girl?”

“I’m gonna make her cum on my tongue.” With that she’s back into your pussy, face first, suckling on your clit with quick pulses and pumping into you with three of her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for her to bring you back to that peak. Maybe because she left you on the edge just a moment ago only to let you watch her get fucked within an inch of her life. Maybe it’s you’ve been wanting this, fantasizing about this for weeks. Or maybe it’s because (as per usual), Eren Jaeger doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, a string of filthy words falling from his lips.

“You're doing so well baby.” He still hasn’t moved, more focused watching Mikasa fuck you open on her fingers. She’s so focused on making you cum, he wonders if she’s even listening but he knows that you are. “Gonna make that sloppy pussy cum so good. Let her make a mess all over your face.”

That’s the catalyst. It’s then that you’re falling into the abyss of pleasure, legs shaking as you writhe on the bed, while Mikasa’s fingers ride you through your high, gradually coming to halt as everything subsides.

When you finally feel grounded again, you open your eyes in time to see Eren pull Mikasa’s face towards him. Tonguing at her mouth, licking inside and around it to clean off the remnants of your orgasm. You watch longly from the bed as their tongues tangle together, tasting the mixture of you and each other.

When Eren has had enough, Mikasa turns to you, spit-slicked face gleaming under the dim lights. “My turn right?” She asks you, still slightly breathless.

Eren answers in your stead. “Yeah, take these off.” He stretches the elastic of her underwear so it can flick back against her skin. He’s trying very hard to sound indifferent because he’d be mortified if you knew how eager he was to see Mikasa rut against your face until she cums.

“Move up.” The instruction is for you this time, Eren patting your knees that still dangle over the edge of the bed. You clamber up until your head lands on the soft, downy pillows, body sprawled on the length of the mattress now. Eren crawls on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. Mikasa sits next to your head, now sans panties.

He nudges against your tender pussy with the bulbous head of his cock, spreading your lips apart ever so slightly.

You don’t expect a ceremony, closing your eyes in anticipation for the burn you know is coming. It never does.

“Beg for it.”

Your eyes fly open, face immediately moulding into a scowl. He looks down at you with unabashed cockiness, clearly amused at your frustration.

“You fucking bastard! I-“

“_____. “ Mikasa trails her hand down your neck, grazing over your sternum and tracing the underside of your breast and circling your areola. Your nipples stiffen under the light touch. “He said ‘beg’.”

“But I already said it, didn’t I!?” Your irritation simmers when you address her, still deep down you cringe at how petulant you sound.

Eren’s hand comes down hard against your pussy and you let out a loud cry on impact. His hands are bigger, stronger and harder than Mikasa’s and that one spank leaves your whole pussy aching.

“Told you babe. You were being too soft.” He slides his tip through your folds while you twitch underneath the two of them, spreading is pre-cum around, mixing it with your juices. “Now she thinks she can get whatever she wants.”

She takes your nipple between her fingers, tugging on it gently. “Is that true?” She twists it hard, making you wince. “ I thought you were a good girl.”

She soothes the sore nipple by laving her tongue across it but the reprieve doesn’t last long as she sinks her teeth into the hardened nub.

“I’ll be good!” You whimper.

You're dizzy from the teasing; Mikasa playing with your tits, mouth around one nipple while her hand gropes the other one and the torturous drag of the full length of Eren’s cock up and down your pussy. It’s slow enough for you to feel every ridge and vein around him, always stopping to tease your entrance, but never giving you the stretch you’re craving.

“P-please.” Your voice is hoarse. “Please Eren fuck me. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He’s content with that; hearing you beg for him. He would never admit out loud that he’s jealous but there is a certain envy that sits heavy in his bones knowing that you want his girlfriend and she wants you just as bad. That's why it helps to know that, at the same time, you want him and he wants you too, just in a different way. It's messy and twisted, perhaps a little too complicated to unravel now. Because right now he wants to fuck you until you cry.

Yeah, that’s the way he wants you

In one quick, smooth motion he enters. You let silent scream and just as you feel full enough to burst, he reaches his hilt.

Mikasa lets go of your nipple with a pop and murmurs, “There’s my good girl.” Against the shell of your ear.

Without warning, Eren starts to move, impossibly deep thrusts, moulding your walls to the shape of him. He prods against a spot inside you that has your back bowing off the bed but he holds you down by planting one of his large hands firmly on your stomach.

Soon, he’s fucking you hard and fast. He can’t help it. The loud sound of your sopping wet cunt squelching every time he slides home, dripping down his hefty balls as they slap against your ass with each brutal thrust, was just egging him on.

That, combined with the sweet-sounding quiet moans of his girlfriend with her hand between her thighs, rubbing quick, quick circles while she’s seemingly unable to take her eyes off of the both of you.

She perches up on her knees to get a better look. Wanting to see exactly where he enters you, wanting to see your pussy stretched out way more than her slim fingers could do.

The creamy ring that encircles the base of Eren’s cock makes her shudder. She feels a sense of pride, knowing that translucent strands of your cum was because of her. Part of why you’re so sex-drunk right now is because of her.

“Eren.” She purrs. “You’re fucking her so good. Making her feel so good.” She uses her free hand to tweak at her nipples, eyes flitting frantically between you and him.

“F-fuck!” You cry out as Eren bottoms out and stays there. He leans over you, face hovering just above yours, the strands of his hair brushing over your cheeks. His pelvis is against your clit, providing delicious pressure but not much else.

“Open.”

It takes a moment for you to process that he’s giving you an instruction. But then, you slacken your jaw, lips parting.

“Looks like you can listen huh?” He sneers. “Stick out your tongue.”

And you do.

It’s all so Eren can drop a glob of spit from his mouth into yours. He makes sure he does it slowly, so that the string of saliva can stretch and stretch and stretch until it plops unceremoniously on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow. Keep it there.”

He gives you another one, coating your tongue in his spit while your own begins to pool in your mouth.

“Hey babe. You didn’t get to cum.” He addresses Mikasa. He gives you one shallow thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Yeah?” She perks up, catching the meaning behind his words.

“Yeah.” He grunts, one more of those thrusts that puts him so deep you feel like he’s fucking the air out of your lungs.

She leans over you too now. Two pairs of eyes, look down on you from above. You blink your eyes shut, trying to escape their scrutiny.

“Open your eyes, sweet girl.” Mikasa coaxes you out of your sheepishness. She purses her baby pink lips, as if considering her next words. “Make me cum. Can you do that for me?”

For the third time that night, you have to question if you’re dreaming or not.

You nod your head a yes, feeling your own saliva pool in your mouth.

“So, so good.” Mikasa tells you.

“Shit.” Eren’s hips jerk against you, when. you squeeze tight around him when she tells you that. “Say that again.” He grits out.

Mikasa is positioning herself, facing Eren with her knees next to your ears, soaking wet pussy just an inch or so above your face.

“What?”

Their conversation is nothing but a faint buzz in the back of your mind, how could you focus on anything except what was right in front of you. Her pretty pink pussy, all wet just for you. The smell of her is heady, rich and sweet. The kind of thing you would get addicted to. God if she would only….

“——, you're such a good girl.” She sighs as she finally sinks down, resting directly on your face.

You moan involuntarily, finally getting to taste what your mouth has been watering for. You let your tongue stay still, letting her grind herself down on it. She tries to roll her hips in fluid motions but they stutter every time her clit rolls over your tongue as she lets out the most melodic moans.

You know that you’re being greedy now, but you can’t help it, the more she gives you, the more you want. Your hands fly up to her thighs and hold her in place. The tip of your tongue catches the rim of her leaking hole, trying to draw more of the sweet honey.

Eren clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “There you go again, letting her do whatever she wants.”

She pays him no mind, slipping her hand between her thighs to play with her clit, while your tongue massages the inside of her walls. “You’re just mean. She just wants to make me feel g-good r- ah right?” She rubs Her other hand tweaks one of your nipples, signalling to you that she wants an answer.

You moan a yes, muffled by the weight of her. You’re darting your tongue in and out of her pussy, unintentionally matching the pace of Eren’s unyielding thrusts.

She rolls the pulsing numb under her fingers, round and round. Her breathing quickens as she tries to bounces on your face; shallow up and down movements.

You can tell she’s close and briefly lament the fact that you won’t be able to see her face when she cums. You wish you could see what she looks like when that wave of pleasure finally crests. But when her knees dig into the mattress beneath her and rooting her firmly against your face, moaning your name as the waves of an orgasm rock her body, you can’t bring yourself to regret a thing. You’d let Eren have that. Getting to swallow down every drop that spills from her is more than a fair trade-off.

You clamp down on Eren’s cock, quickly approaching another orgasm of your own. Mikasa rides out hers by rutting against your tongue, her moans gradually fading into gasps.

“Make her real cum real hard okay ‘Ren?” She still hasn’t fully regained her bearings before she climbs off your face, (much to your dismay). “She really earned it.” She sighs giddy with bliss, plopping down beside you, turning her body to face you.

Eren huffs. “Your wish is my command.” His reaches your raw clit, rubbing it in harsh circles, setting your nerves alight like a livewire. There’s no way you could have held off your orgasm. Your muscles pull taut as you cum around his cock while he pummels your g-spot throughout your climax. As soon as you’ve come down, he pulls out of you. You whine, despite yourself, disappointed at the abrupt emptiness.

Eren mutters various expletives as he strokes himself over you. He’s coated in your cum and it makes the most obscene noise with every flick of his wrist. He releases onto your stomach hot, white ropes of cum shooting out, streaking from your belly button right down to the mound of your pussy. He milks his cock, desperate to get out every last drop, jolting his hips with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He collapses on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the couple.

For a moment the room is filled just with heavy breathing, the three of you recovering from your recent activities.

Mikasa drags her fingers across your torso, smearing Eren’s cum over your skin.

Your body is sticky all over, a mess of sweat and sex. All of you are. But you’re not able to get your muscles to move, just yet.

As the lust that fogs your brain clears, nagging questions start to rear their head.

‘What does this mean for us now?’ being the most pertinent.

You roll over, to face Mikasa.

Perhaps now isn’t the time to ask, but you’ve learned your lesson about waiting until the right time. It’s in everyone’s best interest to clear it all up as soon as possible.

“So um- agh!” you choke around a sudden intrusion and a salty taste spreads across your taste buds.

“Not now.” Mikasa gags you with two of her digits that are coated in Eren’s cum.

“Yeah.” Eren jostles behind you. His sinewy arm snakes around your waist pulling you into his chest. At the small of your back you can feel his dick pressed up against you, already at half mast. “We’ll talk later.”

#love island collab #dyk it’s mandatory for islanders to go to therapy after the show #i think my subconscious took that info and ran #CAUSE THEY ARE ALL SO BAD AT FEELINGS???#and have 0 communication skills #eren yaeger smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #eren yaeger x reader #mikasa x eren #mikasa x eren smut #tw spitting

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missskzbiased · 3 years ago

Text

Betting Big

Summary: As the one and only Seo Changbin, you would never think that you would be willing to pay for someone to go out with you. At least not until you met her. To be honest, not even after you met her but here you were now… Agreeing with splitting the money from a bet that you never made… And all this for what? Just to get a chance to make her fall for you

WC: 1,5 K

Genre: Romance, Fluff

AUs: High School, Fake Bet

Pairing: Seo Changbin X Fem! Reader X ???

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

Warnings: none

Notes: This is in “Changbin’s POV” although written as Self-insert

This is going to be a miniseries, I guess. I’m not sure how many chapters I want to make. I’d like if you guys could vote on this:

Minho as BFF to lovers for the Triangle

Han as Friends to lovers for the Triangle

No Love Triangle at all

///

Everyone but you wanted to be the popular guy.

Not because you were above things like wanting to fit on the wild battlefield that high school was or because you didn’t need people’s approval to feel like a whole person, and even less because you hated being under everyone’s eyes… No. You were petty enough to admit that you loved the attention. The reason why you weren’t like everybody else was that you were the popular guy that everyone wanted to be. That’s right… You were what every single one of those kids wanted to become and you didn’t need to do anything to have your way.

At least, that was what you believed exactly thirty seconds ago.

The silent pause following your invitation wasn’t expected, and neither was the way her judgmental eyes scanned you from head to toes. There was this foreign feeling of being embarrassed, and that sudden urge to shrink and hide from the crowd that you didn’t allow to show on the surface. You were too cool for this. So you settled for clearing your throat, leaning on her table in what you hoped to be a flirty way, and glanced at your friends’ table in search of some sort of silent moral support that you were so in need of right now.

You could say that you weren’t the most subtle human being in the world or else her eyes wouldn’t have snapped right to where you were looking at. As the bunch of overly stealthy people that you definitely were used to be with popularity clogging your better judgment, the four of your friends stared right into her eyes; the expression of a deer caught in headlights plastered over their face. If you had any hopes of not humiliating yourself to that strange girl in the corner ─ who you happened to have a big, fat crush on for at least one year now ─, they were immediately crushed by your own best friends.

Very well.

At least, it couldn’t get any worse than this, right?

Then you learned the valuable lesson of not speaking too soon.

“You want to go out with me?” That wasn’t the kind of incredulous tone that was meant to hide one’s excitement… It was more like that bewildered contempt that one cannot hide at all.

She couldn’t even process the fact that you were bold enough to believe that the mere thought of dating you could ever have crossed her mind… And once more, the humiliation hit you like cold water coming directly from an angry, merciless waterfall. Was that how normal people felt in their daily lives? Jeez… It was so much better to be popular! How do those kids even handle that? Definitely not the life for you.

Your internal rambling had you missing the slow shift on her expression; rejection dissolving to give way to some kind of resigned interest: “How much?” She spoke up in curious confidence, and you must have been too lost on your thoughts because you had no idea of what she was talking about.

“Excuse me?” You blurted out ever so eloquently.

“How much is into this bet?” She asked as if it was the most reasonable thing in this world, and the lack of response had her scoffing, to further prove your point, “Really? You expect me to believe that the most popular guy in school would come all the way to my table, conveniently under his friends’ eyes, just to ask me out on a date with no second intention?” She raised her brows amusedly, chuckling at what seemed to be the best joke she had ever told anyone “Right” She huffed, crossing her arms and tilting her head to take a better look at you.

That was the moment of the truth.

You could either tell her that she misunderstood everything and explain how much you really liked her ─ which would put everything at risk because she clearly didn’t believe you could like someone like her ─ or you could play along with it and score a chance to win her heart on a date.

The answer seemed to be pretty obvious to you.

“Yeah, right” You laughed dismissively, pulling out the chair so you could sit down beside her. There was no sign of resistance in her face; moreover, there was a shimmering curiosity dancing in her expectant eyes, “You totally caught me…” You admitted grudgingly, shrugging to show her how much you didn’t care about it. Fun Fact: You actually did! And you would very much appreciate her to know that… Damn it! What the hell were you getting yourself into?! “So… Should we split it?” You suggested nonchalantly ─ just like the smooth son of a bitch you were.

“What about fifty-fifty?” She proposed shamelessly; face twisting in a funny expression that tried to say that she didn’t care about it either but giving it away that she did, “How much is in for me? Like… A hundred bucks or something?” She leaned back on her chair before shrugging, not willing to admit that she was interested in this.

“You’re good” You chuckled while nodding in agreement; mimicking her as you leaned back on your chair, “Sounds great, right? Getting a hundred bucks to date this hot stuff here?” You grinned as you gestured at yourself, getting nothing but an unimpressed look from her.

“Look, Changbin…” She began hesitantly “If we’re going to make this work, it might be better for you to let me do the talking, okay?” She smiled sarcastically, looking at you with a mix of… You weren’t even sure what. Was constipation considered a feeling? If so, she looked constipated by your existence, “I’m not gonna lie… I want the money, and as long as we don’t have to do anything stupid like kissing or having sex, I think I’m in” She simply agreed while looking into your eyes.

She had such pretty eyes… The most beautiful eyes you have ever seen… The type of eyes to hold so many emotions that you couldn’t help but wonder if those would ever be directed at you. Right now, you could see they were. However, the usually captivating trait wasn’t that heartwarming now… Not when there was nothing but pained resignation in them… Not when they made so damn obvious that she didn’t like you back… Not when they shift to sheer excitement to the sound of someone else’s voice.

“Hey” Was the single word that brought her to such a state of happiness; eyes twinkling and a genuine smile cracking on her face as she looked to the guy talking to her “What’s this?” He asked while gesturing to the both of you before squinting his eyes in suspicion “This table has always been our, shortie, fuck off” He scoffed; sitting down as if it didn’t even cross his mind that you could stand up against him.

“Short—?!”

“Shut up, Minho” She rolled her eyes, even though you could see the amusement in them, “He’s here to ask me out on a date” She clarified nonchalantly; eyes attentive to his reaction.

“Of course he is” He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief while poking his food.

“I am” You stated seriously while boldly offering him The Look, “Is that a problem?” You arched your brow in a silent challenge.

“I don’t know…” He dropped his fork; eyes connecting to yours with such a murderer intention that for a second you considered just playing it off as a joke “Is that a problem?” He asked back, studying your face.

Thank Lord you were a proud Leo or else the “No, Sir” on the tip of your tongue would have slipped just like that from your mouth. Instead, you just returned his glare, choosing to be silent so you would not show him how much he scared the shit out of you. The silent battle was promptly cut off by the damsel in distress herself, a not-so-subtle kick under the table that had Minho wincing on his seat.

“No, that’s not a problem” She stated firmly enough to end the discussion “I’m going out with him” Even though you were aware of that, it still made your stomach flutter.

“Okay” He said bitterly; lips twitching slightly “So that’s not a problem” He forced a smile, picking his fork and scrambling his food mindlessly.

“Great!” You offered her a bright smile, too excited to hide your true feelings.

“Great” She stated monotonously “So… See you later?” She arched her brows as if to say that it was time for you to walk away.

“Of course” You agreed promptly “I can walk you home later… So… We can arrange the details” You suggested hopefully, and she seemed to embrace the idea.

“Sounds like a date” She smiled.

“Yeah” You chuckled; rubbing your arm before waving at her and heading to your friends’ table.

Well… Getting a date: Checked.

Having your feelings reciprocicated: Hm… On progress?

First confession meeting any of your expectations: Hell no...

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Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Tag List

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#skz fanfic #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz fluff #districtninewriters #changbin fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #changbin fanfic #seo changbin x reader #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines

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peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 9

Fake Making-It

Social Media AU

previous chapter

tag list: @allthewayornowayy @wedarkacademia @lockerfivethreefive @yellowballoon @gucciboner @nora-keinwitz @moonskam @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @akucecilia @hischbabe @evaksobbe

~^~

Sander is about to throw up, and it’s no surprise Lucas is laughing at him.

He huffs under his breath from the seat next to Sander, shaking his head as he leans up against the window. They’re already at the cafe Robbe had told Sander they’d be meeting at, have already been here for about fifteen minutes, and Sander is getting more and more antsy by the second. He expects Lucas to be irritated by now, but he seems too amused to be annoyed, bumping Sander’s jiggling leg with his own and giving a fond roll of his eyes.

Lucas doesn’t seem to share any of his nerves at all. He looks like the actual celebrity of this meeting, reclining in the strips of sunlight shining through the window. The silver bracelet on his left wrist and his collection of rings twinkle in it. His curls fall in an artsy mess over his forehead, and the top two buttons of his loose, silky, navy shirt are undone, exposing a triangle of pale skin and the sharp lines of his collarbones.

He looks ready for a night out, or to be the subject of one of his own photoshoots. Not like he’s meeting two relatively famous guys in a quiet, mainstreet cafe.

Sander is wearing a beige sweater with his leather jacket draped over the back of his chair. Bleached strands of hair keep dangling in his eyes, and he’s sure there are more sticking up on his head with how often he’s been shoving his hand through them. His lips are tingly from how often he’s been biting them.

He doesn’t look half as put together.

“Why were we so early?” Lucas questions. “They obviously aren’t as eager.”

“Because, there could have been traffic.”

“Twenty minutes of it?”

“Yes.”

Lucas stares at him for a moment then gives another huff, leaning back against the windowsill. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s a job interview,” Sander reminds him. “You’re not supposed to be late for those.”

Lucas holds his hands up in surrender, slouching further in his seat, one arm slung carelessly over the back and the other resting on the table.

Sander taps his foot and resumes his task of staring at the door, only to come face to face with Robbe.

Robbe.

Robbe Ijzermans, manager for musician Jens Stoffels, filmmaker extraordinaire, and love of Sander’s life. That Robbe. Is standing right in front of him.

Lucas kicks him under the table and Sander realises he should probably close his mouth.

Of course he’s gaping. How should he be expected to control himself in the face of an angel? Never in his life has he thought he would end up in the same room as Robbe, but now he’s right here. He stands barely a few feet away from Sander, his hand already resting on the back of the opposite chair. He’s smiling in faint amusement, top teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to hide it. He’s wearing his brown jacket, the one Sander has become familiar with through a year of following him on social media.

He looks more beautiful than Sander ever thought possible.

Even with Jens standing right behind him, flicking his gaze between Sander and Lucas with something suspiciously like nerves.

“Hi,” Lucas says, taking the leap and breaking the silence, instantly earning Jens and Robbe’s attention. “Are these seats alright?”

Robbe’s smile widens, turning friendly as he nods and pulls the seat out to sit down. “Yeah, this is good. Sorry, have we kept you waiting?”

Sander does his best to ignore how Robbe’s feet bump against his before the smaller boy fully settles with his coat thrown over the back of his chair. Sander shakes his head. “No,” he says softly.

Then Robbe turns his eyes on him and his smile widens even further. He sticks his hand out across the table as Jens slips behind him and settles in the seat across from Lucas, dropping his own coat on the windowsill and adjusting his beanie.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Robbe says, and after a moment Sander realises he’s supposed to shake his hand and return the greeting.

Even Robbe’s hands are beautiful. Small and slim, but strong around Sander’s. Sander holds on for a little longer than necessary. Robbe doesn’t seem to find it odd, still wearing the same smile when Sander snaps out of it enough to say, “You too.”

Robbe holds his hand out to Lucas, and Lucas shakes it easily, and Robbe seems pleased.

Then Jens mimics the gesture, holding his hand out to Lucas, and Lucas raises his brows and asks, “Is the beanie supposed to be a disguise?”

Jens stares at him for a second, then touches the hat on his head, then shakes his head and pulls it off, hastily brushing a hand through his hair. “No.” The single word comes out hoarse. Jens runs his hand through his hair again and clears his throat. “No, it’s just—just cold.”

Lucas hums. He has leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest—a clear indication that he won’t welcome that handshake. Sander bites the inside of his cheek and nudges Lucas’s leg under the table in a silent reminder of their deal. If Lucas behaves during the meeting, Sander will finally clear out the spare room in his flat and build the bed, so Lucas will no longer have to share his.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a win-win for them both for Sander to do it. Lucas is still the one being pissy about it, and Sander has simply used this to his advantage.

“You won’t get recognised here?” Lucas asks, still staring Jens down critically.

“Uh, everyone recognises me here. I live here,” Jens points out. Then he scratches the back of his neck. He seems like he wants to look away from Lucas and yet fear is holding him in place.

Sander resists the urge to drop his head into his hands.

“So you just walk around, wherever you want, not thinking there might be crazy fans or something?”

Jens huffs, smiling slightly now, amused but unsure if he’s allowed to be. “Who do you think I am?”

Lucas simply cocks his head. “I know what fangirls can be like.”

Sander chances a glance at Robbe, who is watching the interaction like a tennis match. He seems entertained, and not upset. Sander supposes he doesn’t have to shut Lucas up yet.

Jens’s smile widens slightly, and he leans on the table now, arms flopping over each other from elbows to hands. “Are you worried about me, or something?”

This is where things could begin to go downhill. Jens has evidently found his confidence, somewhere, and is teasing, as Lucas had claimed he was wont to do. Sander expects that Lucas will retaliate in kind.

Instead, Lucas frowns slightly, looking entirely serious as he leans himself on the table as well. “I’m worried for Sander and myself. Did you even consider that you could put Robbe in danger?”

Jens flushes slightly, shrinking back with a glance at his friend, before raising his brows at Lucas. “Are we supposed to be hiring you as bodyguard instead, or something?”

Now Lucas bristles.

Robbe sets a hand on Jens’s shoulder and squeezes, and Sander stares at the point of contact with something revolting in his gut. “Okay, speaking of hiring. Should we talk about why we’re here now that...most of us have been introduced?”

Jens slumps back in his seat with his gaze dropping and Robbe squeezes his shoulder again. Sander feels sick. He wishes he hadn’t asked Lucas to come. He wishes he’d asked Robbe if they could have a one-on-one meeting first. He wishes he’d approached Robbe on his own, any time in the past year, when he could have been open with his feelings and Robbe could have rejected him politely. Upfront.

Now he’s supposed to work with him. Professionally. A situation not made for personal feelings and affairs.

It’s just that, Robbe already seems detached from those rules, considering his multi-relationship with Jens. He has been so friendly with Sander since that first message. This had seemed like the perfect opportunity, for Sander to get close to and impress the other man at once.

Instead he’s watching Robbe smile so fondly at Jens that he expects to see heart eyes.

How is Sander supposed to gain his attention when a talented musician, whom Robbe has known for years, already dominates it?

“I can reassure you both too that Jens is right,” Robbe says quickly, when none of them respond to his question. He directs most of his attention to Lucas. “Everyone knows us and we know everyone. We chose this cafe too because it’s run by friends. Perfectly safe, I promise.”

Lucas pumps his eyebrows in acknowledgment and then leans back in his seat again, silenced for the moment. Sander is appeased by the realisation that he’s at least kind enough not to interrogate or argue with Robbe.

Sander clears his throat and tries not to falter as Robbe looks at him again. “So are there contracts, or something?”

“Uh, not yet,” Robbe flushes. “That’s something we could draw up together, a separate one for each of you depending on if you’re interested. But we really just want to discuss what you are interested in. If our ideas match up with yours. We’re not looking for any legally-binding, long-term commitments, just genuine collaborations. Something mutually beneficial.”

Lucas snorts, then seems apologetic for it as he flicks his gaze to Sander. Still, he has earned the attention of Jens again, so he says, “Because we should be grateful to work with someone of your status?”

Robbe frowns, now, and for the briefest moment Sander allows himself to hate his friend. Robbe seems to be searching for a response, already shaking his head, but it’s Jens who speaks up.

“Of course not. It’s no question that I’d be getting the most benefits from working with either of you. You might actually make me look good,” he jokes. He also looks so nervous that Sander considers he might not be joking.

Then he decides it’s probably just because Lucas has gone back to staring him down.

“Why don’t you look for actual modeling gigs?” Lucas presses. Sander detects a tiny bit of genuine curiosity under the accusation.

Jens licks his lips, shrugging slightly. “I have,” he admits. “And I did get some offers, a while ago, but they were either super weird or pure monopoly or both. That’s not the kind of thing I want. The work you do...it’s genuine.”

This makes Lucas pause. “Genuine?”

Sander should have known. He would never get a chance to speak to Robbe like this. He is, however, getting the chance to stare at him in peace. He takes in those soft curls, doe eyes, pouty lips, as Robbe remains oblivious, returned to the tennis match next to them.

“Yeah. I mean, you actually have a passion for it. You have to, to do something self-run like that, I know. It’s obvious you have your own vision, your own ideas, your own vibe, and you’re dedicated. Self-made, like me. And I mean, you use recycled clothing and everything, right? And you base yourself on it. You don’t try to come off as expensive or whatever. You just do you. And that, I mean you—you’re crazy fucking talented to top it off.”

The silence that follows this little speech is rather loud. Enough so to make Jens embarrassed, at least, as he scratches at the back of his neck again and colour floods his cheeks. He had even managed to draw Sander’s attention away from Robbe and his growing grin, too surprised to ignore it any longer, and while that seems the most impossible thing, Jens has also gone a step further.

He has rendered Lucas entirely speechless.

Sander watches his friend as he simply blinks, staring at Jens with parted lips, utterly absent of any comebacks. There might even be a little red in his cheeks. Sander has learned recently that Lucas is weird about semi-famous musicians, but he’s always been aware of Lucas’s inability to take compliments.

Mixing the two seems to have broken him.

Robbe pinches Jens’s cheek and Sander’s attention snaps back to him, takes in his wide grin and the teasing glint in his eyes, and feels the touch pinch at his own heart. “Bet you didn’t think to worry that Jens himself is the stalker,” Robbe says to Lucas.

Jens bats him away with an ease borne only by familiarity. Sander wants to climb across the table and settle himself between them and find out what that touch feels like. Take it for himself. Become that familiar.

The more distant Robbe seems, the more Sander wants.

He wants this. Exactly this. Robbe’s warm smile and easy touch, his familiarity and his fondness. He wants it. He wants what very clearly isn’t his.

He wants to leave. He wants the floor to swallow him whole.

Where has his confidence gone? His surety? All this time, he has known. From somewhere deep down, from an inexplicable place, he’s felt it. There’s something about Robbe that speaks to him. That reels him in. That is made especially for Sander.

He can feel it. Has always felt in. Even now it’s there, a force he can’t ignore, holding him in Robbe’s orbit.

Robbe isn’t even looking at him.

Still, Sander feels completely unmoored.

Oddly enough, Lucas seems to be in the same boat.

He’s still staring at Jens, at a loss, and Sander is becoming more and more concerned by the minute. Lucas isn’t usually one to struggle with finding words, or to hold back, but now he seems to be doing both. Eventually, he comes up with, “Are you interested in fashion?”

Sander looks at Jens’s hoodie and jeans combo and barely holds back a snort.

Robbe doesn’t bother to, but he then covers his mouth with his hand and shares a look with Sander. Cheeks dimpled, eyes twinkling, faintly apologetic. Sander’s heart flutters and flops in his chest.

Jens flushes in response. “I might not be an artist the same way that you are, but I know something good when I see it. And your work is good.”

Lucas seems to falter again. Then he gathers himself. “But you’re not actually interested in any of it,” he presses. “So why are you so set on working with me?”

“I believe in taking a shot.” Jens shrugs, even as his blush deepens and he sinks down in his seat. “Seizing every opportunity.”

“So it’s about the money,” Lucas says.

Jens instantly shakes his head. “No. It has nothing to do with that. None of this does. I don’t make music for money in the first place. It’s not about that or publicity or whatever else you’re thinking.” He pauses for a moment, then glances at Robbe, who gives him an encouraging nod. Jens nods back, swallows, and leans towards Lucas again, resting on the table. “It is about building myself. I won’t deny that. I want to be able to make a successful career out of music, and deals like this benefit that. Promotional shit, branching out. I never really wanted to do any of that, because I hate all these business politics and contracts and shares or whatever the fuck everyone looks for. I didn’t want to work with anyone who just did it to do it. I try to be as honest as I can with everything I do and I want to work with people who have the same values. I saw that in you.” He spares a glance towards Sander. “Both of you.”

Sander smiles, shooting a look at Lucas as he places a hand over his heart. “It’s nice to be included.”

Lucas’s lips twitch as Jens begins to stutter, but Robbe interrupts by leaning up next to him. Towards Sander.

Robbe smiles, placating, instantly grabbing all of his attention with his sweet expression. “Sorry,” he laughs slightly. “We just assumed Lucas would want more convincing. Jens spent a lot of time preparing his pitch.”

Jens slumps back in his chair and mutters, “That’s not true.”

Sander hears Lucas huff, but it’s Robbe’s fond smile he’s once again focused on. Robbe directs the smile back over his shoulder, at Jens, and teases, “No, of course not. It’s just natural charm.”

“And it’s very cruel of you to suggest otherwise,” Jens agrees, relaxing a little now as his lips finally twitch in a smile. He shoots a glance at Lucas. “Is it working?”

Sander finally offers his own friend some more attention, though not all of it. He still has a little focus on Robbe, out of the corner of his eye. He can’t quite draw himself away completely. The longer he looks, the harder it gets.

Everything becomes more desirable, he supposes, when you realise it’s something you can’t have.

Lucas bites his lip and looks to Sander, who simply raises his brows. It’s answer enough to him, makes him sure that it is working, and Lucas just doesn’t want to admit it, to any of them. He lets a heavy breath out through his nose and turns to Robbe. “I guess it wouldn’t do any harm to discuss what the deal would entail.”

Sander knows it’s already a yes, and going by Jens’s grin, he does too. He supposes getting Lucas to agree to that much either way is a win in itself.

Jens and Robbe both certainly take it as one, growing relieved and twice as friendly all at once. Robbe immediately goes into a spiel over the main details, rhyming off what they’d expect and what they’re offering in return with only a few questioning glances towards Jens here and there. From what Sander gathers, they’re ready to pay him to help out with Jens’s promotional work, but the situation with Lucas is somewhat more complicated.

“No, I get that,” Lucas admits. “If you were asking me to design something specifically for you then it would be different, but if it’s just to promote my line then I’m usually the one doing the hiring and paying.”

Robbe nods, suddenly all business. Sander shouldn’t find it as endearing or attractive as he does, especially considering he has already had a number of conversations with Robbe in this exact fashion.

All their conversations have been for business, Sander supposes, or just Robbe being nice. Buttering up a potential coworker.

Sander shoves the thought away and swallows down the bitterness that comes with it.

“We get if that doesn’t exactly help our appeal,” Robbe assures Lucas. He spares one of his glances towards Jens. “Which is why we were actually interested in asking you to design something for us. Not really anything out of your usual, but just with a small addition that would signify Jens. It would only have to be a couple of items. I’m sure Sander is capable of working some photo magic and getting a bunch of great shots out of one outfit.”

Sander lets the compliment seep through him, accepts Robbe’s smile with one of his own as warmth spreads through his chest and softens him up. It’s impossible not to like Robbe when he says things like this, looking like that.

Lucas seems more hesitant. “I usually do my own shoots. Unless I’m modeling it myself or doing a collaboration.” He gestures at Sander.

Jens perks up again. “Wait. So most of the pics on your page, they’re your own?”

Lucas looks to him with a raised brow, faintly amused. As subtle as it is, it’s a stark shift from his earlier indifference that had bordered on irritation. “In all your stalking you didn’t see the ‘photographer’ description in my bio?”

“Uh, no,” Jens admits. “I kind of zoned that bit out, I guess.”

“So really, you could just hire me,” Lucas says, shooting Sander one of his cheekiest smiles.

“No,” Robbe admonishes, still smiling, turning placatingly to Sander again. “We’re super happy to work with you both. There’s no problem with splitting the photography load, Lucas, if you want to do your own. We’re hiring Sander in the first place for the promotional work for the album, after all.”

“Are you releasing an actual album?” Sander questions, impressed. So far, Jens had released a couple of singles and an EP, but less than ten songs overall. An album could be double that.

Jens smiles slightly, nodding. “That’s why we’re reaching out right now, yeah. Months of writing and recording and other behind the scenes shit finally getting to the stage where we have something to promote,” he huffs.

“Nice,” Sander approves. He might be dealing with a rather intense level of jealousy over the other man, but he can’t deny such an achievement. Sander has always been a music lover himself. He found Robbe through Jens, after all.

“We’ll get some sneak previews of it,” Robbe grins, sitting back to nudge Jens’s side. It’s clear that he’s already had a front row seat to all of it. He turns back to Sander and Lucas with an even wider smile. “It’s amazing, honestly.”

Jens flushes, nudging him back, starting a mini battle between them, and something hot and sharp spikes in Sander’s stomach.

He tosses his arm over the back of Lucas’s chair and smirks, trying to regain some of his usual cool, trying to convince himself to speak. “Lucas hasn’t heard any of it.”

Robbe blinks, surprised as he looks to Lucas, and Sander suddenly regrets speaking without focusing the attention on himself.

Jens seems disappointed, but he brushes it off with professional grace. “Not everyone has,” he says simply, offering a smile that looks somewhat tight.

Lucas’s lips work for a second as he shoots Sander a dark glare, and he argues, “I hadn’t before, but I have listened to it.”

Jens brightens, leaning forward and tilting his head. “Which song?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas raises a brow. “I said I’ve listened to it.”

It takes a moment for understanding to sink in, and then Jens’s eyes widen, pleased. “All of it?”

“When?” Sander demands, equally surprised.

“Last night. You only have eight songs on your Spotify, it didn’t take long.” Lucas looks between them all, Sander’s amusement and Jens’s delight and Robbe’s gentle smile, and blushes. “What? I wanted to see if it was the kind of vibe I was even interested in working with.” He focuses in on Jens. “You’re not the only one capable of doing your research.”

Jens grins. “I’m flattered.”

Sander snorts, tugging at the back of Lucas’s hair, and Lucas brushes him away as his blush begins to fade. He’s saved from any further embarrassment by the buzz of his phone, which he pulls out and only gives a brief glance at before stiffening.

He curses under his breath and looks at Sander apologetically before showing him the screen. It takes a moment for Sander to make out the message, a request to call Lucas, and then another to notice the contact. Lucas’s mother only reaches out in such a way when she deems it a last resort. “I have to go handle this,” he says quietly, and Sander nods, knowing he couldn’t possibly have the heart to argue.

“You’re leaving already?” Jens questions, even more disappointed than before.

Lucas offers them both a smile that’s more a simple pursing of lips. “Sorry, really. Family emergency. But I’m interested, in working with you. Sander can pass on whatever details you all work out. Is that okay?”

Robbe instantly nods, smile soft and understanding. “Of course. We can contact you directly if there’s anything important?”

Lucas murmurs an agreement, then stuffs his phone in his pocket and turns back to Sander. He presses an apologetic kiss to his cheek, giving his shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he stands and lifts his denim jacket from the back of his chair. He offers Robbe and Jens another brief glance. “It was nice to meet you both, and I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

They both nod, and Robbe returns Lucas’s goodbye, watching after him as he shrugs on his jacket and heads for the door. Jens, however, lingers on Sander and the spot Lucas had vacated until Sander catches his gaze and he hastily looks away.

Robbe turns back to them and raps his hands on the table, then reaches up to squeeze Jens’s shoulder. “Okay. How about we discuss the rest over actual food? You look in need of some fries.”

“And a burger,” Jens agrees.

Robbe huffs and raises a brow at Sander, tilting his head towards the counter. “Do you want to come order with me?”

“Oh.” Sander blinks. They’ve been sitting here long enough now that he should be accustomed to Robbe’s smile already. He’s been looking at it for a year before now. It shouldn’t throw him the way it does. It’s not so surprising that the offer to have a moment with Robbe alone makes his stomach flip. “Yeah, sure.”

Robbe’s smile widens as he twists his legs out from under the table, but Jens catches his arm before he can get up. Sander has already risen, and he lingers next to the table awkwardly, watching how easily Robbe succumbs to the touch, leaning back towards the musician like a moth called to a flame. He keeps watching as Robbe leans right in, tilting their heads together, and Jens whispers something quiet that makes him flush, shaking his head with a tiny laugh before he gets up along with Sander.

Robbe doesn’t even look at him on the way to the counter, and then he rests on the wood and keeps his gaze forward with his smile still in place. It would be fine, normal, for Robbe not to be looking, if Sander was able to draw his own gaze away. But he’s staring, blatantly, and he thinks Robbe’s flush may have darkened slightly, but he hasn’t given any real indication that he has even noticed.

Sander might as well still be looking at him through a screen.

The realisation hits very suddenly that he isn’t, because he realises he can feel him. Robbe’s presence next to him is a tangible thing, radiating warmth. There’s a faint scent wafting from him and invading Sander’s senses, a mixture of an aftershave Sander recognises and something else intrinsically Robbe. Sander wants to get closer and figure out what it is, breath him in until he can call up the smell from memory. He wants too much. All things he’s quickly realising he can’t have.

He urges himself to say something now, to take this one big chance, to make an impression. To leave an imprint, at the very least.

Robbe beats him to it.

“Sorry, really,” he says, finally turning to look at Sander with a sheepish smile. “This probably wasn’t what you were expecting to get out of the meeting.”

Sander hadn’t really been expecting anything, but he’s been wanting. All he ever wanted to get out of this was Robbe. He doesn’t care about the job, the contracts, the money. He cares about the harsh thump of his heart, the raucous roar of his pulse, the yearning stemming straight from his soul at the mere sight of those eyes on him.

It’s ridiculous and impossible, to have feelings like this for someone he doesn’t even know. But he knows Robbe in a way that doesn’t require any actual knowledge, any facts or details, interactions or memories. Sander’s very being recognises Robbe, responds to the light buried in the man’s chest with a hopeful flicker of its own.

It leaves Sander swallowing down the ball of emotion in his throat before he can manage to smile, shrug, and speak. “It’s not over yet. Anyway, it was weirdly entertaining to watch Lucas slowly realise he was running out of arguments.”

Robbe huffs a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve seen Jens determined, but that was something else,” he agrees. “I don’t really know what’s up with the whole thing, but I think he’s just really worried, you know? The album feels like the actual start of things and he’s just constantly thinking of what could go wrong, I guess.”

“So is this almost like a distraction, or something?” Sander asks, partly out of genuine curiosity and partly to keep Robbe talking to him.

“Maybe,” Robbe hums, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to Sander with another smile. “I’m happy about it either way.”

Sander blinks, heart racing. He tells himself he shouldn’t ask. “You are?”

Robbe shrugs, smile widening. “Of course. More fun and less stress in my future now, too.”

“Really? I would’ve thought all this organising and hiring and everything is more work for you.”

“Well, maybe it is.” Robbe shrugs again, crossing his arms over each other atop the counter. “But you and Lucas don’t seem like you’ll make it difficult.”

“Lucas doesn’t seem difficult?” Sander raises his brows.

Robbe laughs, then raises his brows back, pursing his lips and widening his eyes in an exaggerated expression of exasperation. “No more so than Jens.”

Sander’s humorous mood slips and leaves him biting his lip. “You do a lot for him,” he says, and it’s as much a question as a statement.

“Yeah, well, like I said. He needs a little guidance sometimes.” Robbe grins. “He’s not that difficult, most of the time, and even then he’s still Jens. I know what he’s like and what to expect, which I guess is more than most people can say honestly.”

They could leave it there. Sander has no reason to push any further. He doesn’t even know what he’s pushing for. “And it never bothers you? That idea of his fame?”

Robbe shrugs, biting his lip. “He deserves it, and I know he’d never leave me behind, so. It’s a little scary sometimes, because it involves working with a lot of scary people and having even scarier fans sometimes, but,” he pauses, glancing over his shoulder again. His face softens completely, eyes brimming over with it, and Sander’s heart crawls into his throat and threatens to choke him. Robbe turns back to him with the faintest but warmest smile. “But I love him, so.”

Sander’s heart splinters. A jagged piece cuts through his vocal chords, rendering him momentarily speechless, before everything clatters uselessly back into his chest and leaves him offering an empty smile. He tells himself that it’s no different. He could say he loves Lucas, and it wouldn’t mean anything heartbreaking.

But when Robbe says it, that’s how it feels. Robbe says it like he means it.

Robbe says it in the way Sander hoped he’d one day say it about him.

He’s saved from having to answer when a cashier finally makes her way over to them and apologizes for the delay. Sander can barely acknowledge her, but Robbe offers an easy smile and places his and Jens’s orders, and then turns to Sander. Sander fumbles out something and now finds himself entirely unable to look at Robbe.

He’s only able to once Robbe pats his pockets and then curses under his breath, blushing slightly as he glances at Sander from underneath his lashes. “Forgot that my wallet’s in my jacket.”

Sander just gives a gentle huff and a smile as Robbe walks back to the table. Jens looks up at him with furrowed brows, then laughs and sets his hand on Robbe’s arm, saying something as he rises from his seat. Robbe rolls his eyes, but drops back into his seat as Jens squeezes his shoulder and slips out around him, coming to join Sander at the till.

Sander quickly looks straight ahead again, even as Jens attempts to offer him a smile. He’s a lot taller than Sander expected, and he hates how small it makes him feel. He suddenly understands what Lucas has been warning him about.

“Sorry, about not even introducing myself properly,” Jens says, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

Sander glances at him. “That’s fine. I mean, I know who you are, so.”

Jens huffs a laugh, nodding in acceptance. “Okay, cool. I promise I’ll be more into it now. I don’t actually know why I was so nervous,” he laughs again, nervously. “It’s just, meetings. Professional shit. Professional people.”

Sander’s lips twitch. He doesn’t like it, but he likes Jens. He always has. He can’t quite bring himself to be angry or anything close, but jealousy still rages in him. “Not your thing?”

“Nope,” Jens admits with an easy shrug. “I usually let Robbe do the talking. He’s better with the whole people thing. Friendly.”

“Yeah,” Sander agrees, quietly. “I can see that.”

Jens’s lips purse, and then he’s bumping Sander’s shoulder with his own. “I think we’re more alike. You didn’t really seem to mind Lucas taking over the talking. You were pretty quiet.”

Sander shakes his head. “Usually I’m not, but I was nervous, too, I guess. And tired.”

“Not settled in yet?” Jens questions, brows furrowed.

“Not really,” Sander huffs. “Lucas is a restless sleeper.”

“Oh.” Something unreadable takes over Jens’s expression for a second, and then he looks away. For a moment he’s silent, and Sander thinks that’s it, but then Jens swallows and purses his lips and speaks again. “I didn’t realise you were together.”

For a split second, Sander is confused. Then he realises what Jens means, what he thinks Sander implied, and then he wants to laugh. He should laugh. Because it’s wrong, it’s so wrong, that it is actually funny, and Sander should clear things up immediately.

But.

Everything becomes more desirable when you realise it’s something you can’t have.

He stares at Jens blankly, then with a furrowed brow and parted lips, and then the cashier returns with their food. Jens pays for everything before looking back at Sander questioningly, and then Sander does the really stupid thing.

He says, “Oh, yeah.”

~^~

next chapter

#wtfock #skam nl #sobbe #robbe x sander #van der stoffels #vds #fake making-it #now it’s starting

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years ago

Text

lights, camera, duty commenced!

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #14 - commend ]

[ illya, g’raha & emet ] ★ [ 2,263 words ] ★ [ actors au ] passing mention of some friend’s ocs and illyanaud

commend: praise formally or officially

behind the scenes of the critically acclaimed long running tv show, final fantasy fourteen, g’raha tia is (almost) inconsolable after he reads the final act’s script

The not-so everlasting light shining down feels radiant and warm, but not scorching. In the distance, one can hear the push and pull of the tides from the nearby lake, as well as the rustling of the purple hued leaves that hung and swayed ever so gently upon the trees. A light baby blue canvas with dusty cotton candy clouds crowns lakeland, painting the perfect, serene vista for an uneventful day of shooting.

Though, Illya has to remind herself, as she looks up at the peaceful sky, and sighs in contentment that she was in the completely wrong headspace. Even though the sky above was bright and undoubtedly beautiful on this fine afternoon, she knows that all it takes is for a little bit of compuer-generated television effects magic to turn the tranquil landscape into a scene of naught but utter devastation and war.

Think termination. Think termination. You’re in the middle of a large-scale battle between Elidibus and the people of Norvrandt. The tone’s supposed to be somber and tense. You’re the warrior of darkness. You got this!

“Oh.... How could this be...?”

Her train of thought is rudely interrupted by the sorrowful moping of her co-actor, and she has to resist the urge to chide him for dragging his early morning sulking all the way into the afternoon.

“G’raha, please...” the lalafellin sighs, though cannot help but to let a sliver of sympathy slip into her tone. “The next scene’s starting soon.”

“I know, I know... But...” the man heaves a heavy sigh, hanging his head low and letting his arms drop onto his lap so dramatically she’d almost thought that his flesh really was made of crystal and wasn’t just a product of the hard work of extremely talented make-up artists. “I can’t help it. I can’t believe that my poor crystal exarch is-”

Illya can say she at least empathizes - though perhaps not to the same extent. She’s been casted into roles of characters who would meet an unfortunate demise later, but to be fair, they weren’t often major characters within the narrative of the show or film she was playing a role in.

The crystal exarch on the other hand, has played a key role as one of the many recurring supporting casts in the show. He’d lingered in the background as early as the first season, and was, to G’raha’s jubilation, finally given a main role in the fourth season they were filming.

Only to be killed off in the final act - succumbing to the crystallization of his entire body, from head to toe, in the throne room of the crystal tower after the warrior of darkness’ battle with the ascian Elidibus. His death scene was to be an emotionally poignant one... and Illya herself has spent the last few days getting into the headspace of the protagonist - who would understandably be utterly devastated by the loss of a dear friend.

It didn’t help that the crystal exarch was a considerably popular character within the international community of fans - and his significant increase in screen time was due in part to fan demands... though that perhaps made his long foreshadowed death even more of a cruel irony.

And there was nobody in the world who was a bigger fan of the crystal exarch than the actor who played him himself. It wasn’t narcissistic either, in their line of work, it’s easy to get attached to the roles they play... even more so when they’ve hovered within the headspace of their character for as long as 6 years - she would know, Liliya Liya is as big a part of her as the crystal exarch is for G’raha now.

Thus, though she felt the urgent need to get G’raha back up on his feet in preparation for the remaining scenes on their schedule to film... she could not bring herself to so callously talk down his very real and personal attachment of a character he was meant to portray well anyways.

“Oh come now... you should’ve seen this coming.” with a swagger in his step and lazy grin plastered over his expression, Emet Selch strolls over to the pair.... far too comfortable within his own role that he was speaking with Hades’ signature slur in his speech even while out of character. The man has always noted just how similar he was to the god of the underworld, and Illya wouldn’t be surprised if he’d claimed to not even be acting in his scenes at all.

“I...” G’raha pouts, looking up at Emet as his ears flatten atop his head. “I guess I was in denial of it. I thought they would maybe subvert expectations... but-”

“But that wouldn’t be a very compelling story to tell, now would it?” The older man shrugs, and Illya regrets to think that she’s inclined to agree.

“I guess not..”

The robed miqo’te man sighs, and she notes with an amused raise of an eyebrow as his tail that had once been tucked tightly to his side was now swiveling from side to side and puffed up in annoyance.

“Still! They could at least let him go out with more of a bang! Maybe... after he has a solo action scene... or give him a kiss scene to make things more dramatic!”

“Is defeating the big bad and saving the heroine not dramatic enough for you, already?” Emet’s voice is in part mocking as it is exasperated, his arms thrown up to his shoulders in a shrug. “Also I hope you didn’t mean a kiss scene with Liliya.”

“W-what-?? I-” Illya’s mouth hangs agape.

“No! I wasn’t thinking anyone in particular, honest. Besides, she’s already caught in that love triangle subplot with the twins, isn’t she?”

At the mention of the topic, the lalafellin woman’s smile fades.

“D-don’t remind me of that. I’m really not looking forward to acting those scenes out.”

She’s already read the script for the fourth season in it’s entirety... and though she has incredible respect for the masterful writing and the wonderful character dynamics that has only gotten better with each passing season... she has never been... entirely comfortable with the romantic aspects of the scenes involving the elven twins. Scenes of the pair vying for her attention, scenes where she held hands and even got unsettingly close to kissing them...

Though, she will admit... her own uncertainty over her competence in filming those scenes are a result of her own, very personal emotions... something of which Emet Selch seemed to be more than aware of.

“Is it not because you harbor actual feelings for one of them? Would having scenes of you being close to him not be a blessing for you, then?”

The miffed glare Illya’s shoots up at Emet rivals moments of shadow possession Liliya experiences throughout the show, and he can only shrug with a cocky grin as her star-spangled swirl with indignation. Anger aside, heat is spreading across her cheeks in the form of a burning red hue that reaches the tips of her short, pointed ears.

Please stop.

Her expression spells out. She’s as annoyed as she her frightened about something.

Oh dear.

“Relax. Workplace romance here is nothing new.” His words only serve to worsen the already infuriated gleam in her blazing, shimmering eyes. “Mint certainly isn’t shy when it comes to showing she’s in a relationship with Estinien. Nor your friend Laurelis for that matter. She’s still keeping in touch with Haurchefant, no?”

Illya doesn’t say anything, but her silence and the paling of her complexion speaks louder than any words she can spill from her lips.

It’s precisely because he doesn’t know. So please, please shut your mouth.

He still cannot understand why on earth she would stay so adamant about keeping her feelings a secret anyway. For all he knows, the entire cast of actors... and the whole final fantasy crew for that matter, was fully aware of their pining - and Illya’s feelings towards her close co-worker and friend wasn’t unrequited either.

Just like in the show, the pair are completely oblivious to their attraction to one another... something he’ll just have to fix with his bare hands then...

But the matter is neither here nor there, and there was something of greater urgency to rectify now.

Emet Selch turns his gaze back down to G’raha, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet... and sensing his seriousness, Illya too diverts her attention back to the sulking redhead.

“You know... you’re a very talented actor. It’s so very rare to find someone who can capture the emotions and nuances of a character as well as you do.” Emet is the faster of them to speak, and Illya can barely believe the words she’s hearing leave his lips.

Compliments and praise, genuine ones at that, coming from one of the cast’s eldest, most experienced actor who is not only known to be critical when it comes to the art of acting - but is a certified acting coach himself? The monumental honor is not lost to G’raha, as his ears perk up and he whips his head up with widened ruby eyes to look at Emet.

“Death is difficult to portray - dare I say, almost impossible. After all, how can we, who have never experienced death... truly capture the sorrow and despair in it?”

Emet Selch pauses, drawing in a breath before he lifts his hand up to gesture at the pair before him.

“Which is why this is your biggest opportunity to showcase your talents, to move the audience with not just the story, but your very acting! The only thing we can do, as men and women of this field, is to act as vehicles and carry the emotions of the story into the hearts of the fans.”

The man finally sighs, shoulders falling and arms flopping lazily to his side, the sentimentality of the words he just spoke tasting bitter on his tongue.

“Besides, even in death there is a beauty. The crystal exarch lived his life fulfilled and having realized his wish at the end. I expect you to remember that when you eventually see him off.”

There’s a silence that hangs and festers in the air for a moment, before the fur on G’raha’s tail stands and his chest puffs up in a show of renewed determination.

“Y-you’re right, Emet! The crystal exarch dedicated his life to finding a way to save others... There is no better way to end his legacy than to see the world he’s protected for so long finally saved!”

Standing onto his feet, the miqo’te clenches his hands into fists and nods before casting a glance down at Illya.

“Illya! I will act my heart out to the best I can! I’ll act so hard that I’ll make you cry on set for sure!”

The corners of her lip tugs upwards into a wide smile, glowing as the afternoon sun basks down and reflects upon her snowy white hair and the blossoms of her amethyst eyes. Even with the black of the garments she wore and the eastern patterned ribbon that held the braid around her head in place, she was luminous and blinding in her radiant presence... not unlike the heroine of their story.

“Of course! And I’m sure the rest of the crystal exarch fan club will too when they watch that episode.”

“Illya, G’raha!” A pink haired lalafellin calls out to them from a distance away, her olive green eyes wide and excited as she waves her hands high above her head. A raven haired man stands just behind her, his dark blue eyes narrowed as he reviews the script in his hands intently. “We’re starting soon! Get over here!”

“Coming! Just give us a second!” G’raha waves back with a grin before turning back to look at Emet Selch with an apologetic, yet grateful bow, his relaxed tail swaying gently from side to side behind his back.

“Thank you, Emet. I won’t soon forget your encouragements. I’ll do my best and make sure to not let everyone down.”

“Yes, yes. Spare me the nauseating mush. I was just making sure you didn’t drag your co-actor down with your sulking.”

The elder man now glances at the starry eyed girl with amusement flashing through his expression, and Illya can already feel her earlier lighthearted elation fade as quickly as it came.

“By the way... I’m sure if you asked Yoshida properly.. he’d be willing to consider writing in a kiss scene with Liliya and-”

“If I were the warrior of darkness, I’d take my crescent moon cane and stab you with the end of it......”

------

Meanwhile, a little distance away from the trio, Kaye lets out a low hum as he reads and re-reads the words upon the small stacks of paper he held, expression doubtful and confused.

“You sure this is the script to Endwalker?”

“Yeah, I am! Alphinaud gave this copy and said that he got from miss Ishikawa directly! Apparently he’s playing another major role in the next season, which is why he got the script early as a heads up.”

“But... it says here that the crystal exarch gets reincarnated? Assuming that’s not gonna be changed... that means G’raha’s gonna be...”

Kaye’s head lifts and turns, eyes wide and brows furrowing in bemusement only to see an impish smile glimmer upon Lily’s face.

“Should we tell him?”

“Hm...? Nah... He’s gonna film the exarch’s death scene soon, right? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the little surprise later, anyways.”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #g'raha tia #emet selch #illya skawi #g'raha #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #fanfic #mine #I've only had this au for a day and I've already written a fill for it lmao #*pumps fist*

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dangermousie · 4 years ago

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Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is also finding the middle path between their two very different philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant, sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two take up farming, get involved in the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

#asks #cdrama #cnovel

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justreadingfics · 5 years ago

Text

His Girl (Revamped Version)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you. Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Love Triangle, Pining, Smut, Revamped version of first fic written by the author, 18+.

Word Count: 4k.

A/N: Hi!! I’m sorry to say but this isn’t something entirely new. I’ve been thinking about revamping the first fic I’ve ever wrote for a while now. I love the story, but every time I read the original, it made me cringe for several reasons. I like this version better, but I haven’t sent this to a beta and you all know English isn’t my first nor my everyday language, so you may still find a significant number of cringy stuff, lol. If you read it and like it, don’t hold back on the feedback 😊 I’m tagging my permanent list.

Masterlist link on description.

He pays no mind to the loud beating of the music thundering into his ears, nor to the sea of dancing bodies and cheerful laughs around him as he makes a beeline for the bar. Another one of Tony’s big shindigs, one he can barely remember the reason for, if there ever has been one to start with…

He has lost count of how many he had to attend since he had joined the team. He hates it, of course he does. Everybody knows it… Bucky Barnes hates parties. He hates so many eyes which cross path with his, some condescending, some pitiful, others gleaming with fear… or hatred. He hates them all, but he knows he still deserves them all.

It has been a slow process after he came back from Wakanda, where Shuri has finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggles… with social events, with talking to people, with letting them in, showing himself… What could they see if they really look?

He hates parties, yeah… but he goes to all of them. For one and only reason. He takes a seat by the bar and, while he waits for the whisky he just ordered, his gaze roams and search through the crowd, looking for the reason he’s there after all…

You.

It’s been like this from the moment he laid his eyes on you. His gaze always searching, seeking you, longing that the sight of you can ease the ache in his chest that comes with the absence of your touch. To be honest, Bucky can’t understand why you have this effect on him, you two have barely exchanged more than two words and, even if his gaze is always sneakily on you, he shies away whenever you draw near. He rather keep his distance… he needs to.

But he’s completely and utterly infatuated by you. Not like he remembers much of his life, but he’s damn certain he has ever felt this way about anyone. Ever. He can’t stop thinking about how you held his left hand with no sign of hesitance when you two were introduced. He was so entranced by you that he’s sure he has held on to your touch longer than socially acceptable, and yet you didn’t make a move to let go before he did. He’s obsessed by the way your hips swing from side to side when you walk, by how you always looks straight into the eyes of whomever you’re talking to, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh and a small and adorable snort comes out of you… yeah, your laugh! The most amazing sound Bucky has ever heard. And there’s always a smile on your lips, for everyone.

Except for him.

Why, after that first time you two met, wouldn't you speak to him again? Fear… That’s the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course you would be frightened by him…The Winter Soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin… He may be called the White Wolf now, but it doesn’t erase what came before…

With the whiskey now in his hands, his lips barely touch the glass when he finally spots you.

There you are, his reason, across the room, laughing while Sam says something. At that moment and every other moment, Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who’s able to make you laugh like that. He takes a minute to take in the sight of the woman who he keeps up all night thinking about. You have your hair styled on that way you always have at parties. Bucky knows you choose that style because it’s easier and then you can do your hair yourself, oblivious to the fact that it drives him crazy with want to dive his fingers through your locks and tilt your head so he can ravish your neck with kisses and intake the sweet scent of you…

He gulps as his gaze falls down your body and he notices what you’re wearing that night. A long black dress. The side slit goes high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up as he takes in the exposed skin of your thigh. The deep V neckline isn’t doing any good to his mental state either…

God, you’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you.

Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side. Holding your hand the way Bucky only can in his dreams. The lump is thick on his throat at the reality.

Steve Rogers. Captain America.

His Stevie. Bucky’s best friend and brother, the punk who started a fucking war with the rest of the World to defend him. The one who introduced you to Bucky.

You…

His girl.

And that’s the reason why, besides the fact he damn sure scares the shit out of you, Bucky would never get to touch you, feel your skin on his. Breathe you in… Taste you…. The reason why he avoids any kind of close contact and is happy to worship your image from a distance. He can’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or get closer to you. He can’t take that chance.

He’s been fighting… against himself. He’s been dating around, trying hard to get you out of his head out of his very soul if he’s going to be honest. But all he accomplished is to compare every single woman he’s seen with you, and wonder how it would feel if you were the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.

“Jesus, you’re so screwed.”

Drowned in his thoughts Bucky has missed the redhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a stool next to him with a smirk on her lips.

“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy is able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it’s their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understand each other.

“Please Barnes, you’re wounding me.” Natasha rolls her eyes and brings the drink to her lips.

Bucky bites on his lips before letting out a humorless chuckle, “That obvious, huh?” He says, defeat in his voice and a hint of worry that his secret may not be as hidden as he thought.

“To me, yes”. She shrugs before spending a moment observing him, while he goes back to watching you across the room, hand in hand with his best friend. With a sigh, Natasha kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been much discreet lately. Everyone else is a bit dumb, but I don’t know…”

Bucky snaps his head back to her, as his eyebrows knit close together, spotting the rare sympathetic smile on her tightened lips.

“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”

The empathy on Natasha’s face falls and is swiftly turned into a familiar glare. Letting out a huff, she stands up and turns her back to him, leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing catches as “Stupid Super Soldiers. No Serum in the brains, for sure”.

He’s left confused as he watches Natasha joining the rest of the gang who is now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint and orders for another drink. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who has his back to him, sitting across the Widow, leaning forward to say something to her. She responds by pointing to the bar where Bucky stands.

Steve turns his head to his best friend and whey their gazes meet, the blonde grins and waves, calling Bucky towards the gathered group.

Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky sighs before he nods and heads to the table that is also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, his heart rushes to his throat when notices that the only empty seat is the one next to you, who have your back turned to him.

“Hey Buck, come here and take a seat, the food is amazing,” Steve says with a mouthful, pointing with the fork to the mountain of food in his plate.

The fact that his fellow Super Soldier is the only one eating – the exorbitant amount of food- makes him think of the skinny kid from Brooklyn who could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brings a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which fades as soon as he spots your stiffened shoulders as you glance nervously at the empty seat beside you, still avoiding to look at him.

“Ahm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, brushing the back of his neck. The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable by imposing his closeness.

“Oh, come on Tin Can, grace us with your broodiness… It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam asks, emphasizing the outdated slang in an attempt to tease his centenary friend.

Missing how you take a long sip from your own whiskey, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation and makes a face to Sam. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject or to say no the puppy eyes Steve always wear to break him and never fails, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat. Right beside you.

Steve goes back to his food and the group goes back to chatting. The words are far from the focus of his attention as it’s so damn easy for him to feel the heat irradiating from your body, so close to him all he has to do is... Bucky’s glad for Sam and his never stopping mouth as no one seems to notice how his whole body flinches when his right thigh ever so lightly brushes against yours under the table. He quickly pulls his leg away, but not before goosebumps spring unbidden across his skin at the brief yet burning touch.

He’s expecting you to move the chair closer to Steve, to prevent any kind of contact with him to happen, but… but instead, she leans back on his touch, seeking the overwhelming sensation again, brushing her leg against his and leaving it there.

All the sound around him fades away, replaced simply by the thundering sound of his beating heart.

Every single inch of him is completely stiffened when he rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees you furtively doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness and a lack of better judgment, he moves it closer to yours until your pinkies link between your laps. He feels dizzy when you softly caress his finger with yours and all of a sudden, like it’s the most natural thing to do, he has all of his fingers tightly interlocked with yours.

His holding hands with you under the table cloth and it’s so damn hard to breathe now. Bucky’s mind runs in full speed, matching his heart, but yet, for that moment, time seems to freeze and everything’s slow motion as a forbidden, yet beautiful promise takes over his senses.

No… It wasn’t fear the reason why she kept his distance from him… She’s touching him, he has her soft hands on his. And it feels so right…

“Are you ok, Barnes? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

Bucky’s stupor is swiftly interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance. It’s Natasha, of fucking course.

The unwanted attention makes you quickly remove your hand and back away your leg.

Bucky feels empty.

“Ahm, Yeah I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up and leaves the table, choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends are apparently unfazed and oblivious to anything.

In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator, he takes in the fresh air, relishing into the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind. You touched him… he can still feel the burning where your skin met and he knows that you were as much affected by it as him… What the hell’s happening?

The quietness of the rooftop is broken by the elevator ding behind him. His heart jumps when he turns his head and spots the person coming out of it. He can’t. He can’t hold back a second longer anymore, and without even thinking, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between you and him to press his lips against yours. As he pulls you to him, you immediately kiss him back, one hand tangling in his lose locks, while the other snakes up his chest.

Without breaking the sloppy and needy kiss, Bucky pins you against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in your taste, he doesn’t want to let you go…Not again. Not now. He feels the whiskey you’ve been drinking mixed with your Chapstick and something sweet, that he knows it’s all you and he thought he would never get to taste.

Finally…

Both of your arms circle his neck while one hand still holds the back of his hair in a grip. You gasp for air and Bucky takes the chance to ravish your collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching your pulse point to lightly bite on it. You let out a moan and while you tighten the hold on his locks, Bucky realizes he has never listened to anything as beautiful.

“I need you… Please.” You’re breathless when you whisper the words to his ear, reaching down between your bodies to palm the bulge straining his pants.

If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it is completely lost now with the husky plea coming from your lips. He captures your mouth once again, and moving quickly, he travels his hand up your exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under the band of your underwear to find the velvet skin already damp. He lightly brushes the little nub there and the sensation pulls a primal groan from him and a deep sigh from you through the kiss.

Tangling his tongue into yours, he pulls the black lace material down and when it falls to your knees, you wiggle your legs to let it drop to the floor before you step out of it. Without breaking his lips from yours, Bucky quickly goes to his belt, as you pull the skirt of your dress by the side slid up to your waist. When his erection springs free, Bucky holds your leg up to open you for him and just can’t waste anymore time as he guides his impossibly hard cock to your wet entrance.

It’s almost too much… the sensation of being inside you, so damn close, the velvet heat tightening around him…a kind of intimacy he only dreamed about. You cling to him as he slowly pushes himself further and the air leaves him a sharp exhale when he bottoms out. Only then, your lips detach from his as your breaths come out short.

Keeping your leg locked around his waist, he uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while you maintain a firm grip on his shoulders. You two exchange gazes for what feels like the first time and for a moment you just stay like that, staring to each other, studying every little inch of each other’s faces… Getting acquainted… Body and soul, Bucky suspects, as something entirely new and powerful grows inside him. A sense of calm, of peace, of belonging…

When he starts to move, he goes slow at first, allowing you two to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. You fell so damn good around him, better than any day and night dream he ever had, he realizes, as his flesh hand leave your leg, secured around his waist, to pull down the shoulder straps of your dress. One, then the other, dropping down your arms and exposing your breasts to him.

Beautiful, so damn beautiful, it makes him breathless…

He watches as your eyes close and your lips part a little, whimpering in sheer ecstasy, when he grabs one of your breasts into his hand, never stopping the slow and deep move of his hips. He gently massages the soft flesh, and can’t take his eyes off your face as the slight shift of expressions in synch with his actions shows how much pleasure he’s giving to you.

“Oh, Bucky…”

Hearing the whisper of his name in your mouth, especially in such a sinful way, makes his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of you. His thrusts grow faster and the two of you become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together, your skin is hot against his and your breathe tingles over his neck. It’s perfect. And it feels so right, so damn right, when your pussy clenches around him…

He needs to feel it again and the frenzy you both share boosts when Bucky’s flesh fingers meet your clit. He circles the nub in fast, harsh circles as you tighten your leg around him for support. A slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation makes you let out a scream of pure ecstasy. He feels it coming as your cunt grips his cock in the most delicious way.

Your whole body shakes against him as you let out a wanton moan, signaling your climax. As you fall apart, Bucky’s fingers leave your heat to hold you tightly by your waist. He knows he isn't going to last much longer, he just can’t, even if he wants to have you like this forever, breathless in the pleasure he’s provided you with while he can feel your heart thunders against your chest and your tongue brushing over the skin of his neck.

“I need to taste you,” you breathe and it startles him for a second when you push at his chest, forcing him to pull out of your pulsing heat.

His mind goes blank when you sink to your knees and grip the base of his cock, coated in your arousal, and your mouth wraps around the throbbing tip. He watches down in awe, supporting himself with both arms on the wall. Your soft lips around his cock makes him lose his fucking senses and a few bobs of your head is already too much for him to handle.

“I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky tries to warn you, only making you grab his ass and clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from you.

He groans loudly and can’t hold back anymore before you take everything he has to offer, not missing a single drop of the most powerful orgasm he ever had.

Struggling to breathe and gather his thoughts again, Bucky offers his hand to help you get on your feet and pulls you in a tight embrace as his forehead leans against yours, sharing the blissful state.

He loves you.

If he didn’t know that before, it’s pretty damn clear now. He loves you and this love will ruin him. Of that he’s sure, while he holds your half naked body to his.

When breathing isnt’t so hard anymore, you’re the first one to speak.

“I love Steve… I really do.”

Bucky’s eyes close and he sighs at the mention of his friend’s name.

“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too,” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.

“You must think I´m a-” A sob breaks through your lips before you have the chance to continue.

“Shhh,” He whispers as he cups your face and uses his thumb to caress your cheek and wipe the tears falling down. “Never,” he assures you, shaking his head, “I would never think anything like that of you.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” you add, pleading for him to believe, and Bucky hates to hear the sorrow in your beautiful voice.

“I know sweetheart, I know…” He tries to sooth you, even if his own heart is breaking at how ashamed you seem to be of what just happened, prompting his own guilt to tighten his throat.

“I don't want to hurt him,” You add. “But you…” The whisper is low as you lean your face against the touch of his hand, shutting your eyes. “God, I can’t take you of my mind ever since I first saw you, not matter how hard I tried. I’ve been going crazy,” You breathe hard as your eyes open and you look up at him, gripping hard the back of his suit with your hands.

Bucky’s heart beats harshly against his ribcage at your confession. “I know the feeling,” he says in the steadiest voice he can manage, keeping the brush of his thumb on your cheeks. “All I think about is you, all the time.” He almost can’t believe he’s actually telling you this, “I-I´m in-”

You don’t let him finish when you abruptly part from him, ceasing any kind of touch. The pained expression in your face is nothing but a plea, one that begs him: “please don’t say it”.

He doesn’t. He sulks in a breath and doesn’t say he’s completely and desperately in love with you and it feels so right even if he knows how damn wrong it is.

You bite on your lips and a heavy silence falls upon you as you fix your dress and hair, allowing him to put himself together, too. Your head drops, before you lean down and take your underwear from the floor.

“This can’t … won’t happen again,” You manage to make your words convincing, standing up in front of him as your jaw clenches, holding the small piece of black lace tightly in your hand.

Bucky shuts his eyes and nods. He knew this was coming, but the fact does nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words.

When he feels your grip on his chin, his eye pop open. You two stare at each other for a long moment, sharing the words, the ones forbidden to be said out loud, before you lock your lips together again.

As he pulls you to him, he focuses on every move, every touch, every sensation. Your tongue brushing against his, how he can feel himself and you through the sweet taste of your mouth, your skin, the shallow breaths and small whimpers, your hand into his hair… He clings to all of it. Memorizing how you feel, holding the sensations into his mind… his heart.

Bucky feels your hand slipping inside a pocket on his pants before you break the kiss and, without looking at him again, you run past him towards the elevator.

He sighs, bringing his fingers to his lips, as if this way he would make the phantom of your touch last longer… His gaze turns to the city lights when he hears the elevator going down and he places his hands inside his pockets.

His lips turn up in a longing smile, already missing the touch of yours, while his fingers play absent-mindedly with the piece of lace he finds inside his pocket.

He knows it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. The pain. But at that moment, all he feels is you…

You….

His girl.

~~~~~~

The end.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #angs #bucky barnes series #cheating #angst #bucky angst

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years ago

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TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game.

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

#twificmas20 #ficmas20 #ficmas #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #my fic #fic: all these broken things #my fic: all these broken things #i like attention #that's why i do ficmas #honesty is the best policy #is ATBT getting a full tear-down and rewrite for 2021? you betcha

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howtotrainyouragents · 3 years ago

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Things I Noticed in the Hamilton Film

Soooo, I was supposed to have posted this last year when the film first dropped, and I forgot...

Anywayyyy, things that were new, from the album, or was obvious to everyone but me. This is literally just me listing details I loved for my own keepsake later on

I hope this film’s success (and the play’s hopeful continued success on stage), shows that Broadway plays can and should be filmed for everyone

Lin Manuel Miranda is a brilliant writer, scriptwriter, musician, rapper, singer, and a genuinely lovely person, but I think my favorite part about him is his acting. He has such a pure naturalness and sincerity in his acting. He nails microexpressions/gestures and sometimes I forget that he’s acting

E.g., Lin’s devastation after Washington kicks him out

There’s some songs I wondered what their purpose was, but watching it I understood. For example, Story of Tonight sets up the purpose of the revolution. Like, My Shot is Hamilton’s ‘I want’ song, but Story of Tonight is all of the revolutionaries ‘I want’ song, and that’s why it comes up again for Laurens and Hamilton at their ends

Samuel Seabury’s acting was gold

In Right Hand Man the way the backup stage/cast lights up as they sing ‘not throwing away my shot” and Hamilton agrees to work for Washington

The fact that Helpless ends with “You’ll be a new man” because Hamilton is still so obsessed with his own ascendency

HOLY FUCK RENEE ELISE GOLDSBERRY

They way they start Satisfied, it’s like Angelica doesn’t know the true extent of her devastation until she gives her toast and says “satisfied”. Like, she knows what she’s done but she’s still thinks this is fine and this is for the best, and it’s not until this moment that the weight of it fully hits her. By the end of it, it’s like she’s barely holding it together for this toast

Towards the end of the song, Eliza kisses her cheek and Renee’s expression is like she’s about fall apart in that very moment from the sheer overwhelming joy and pain

So in Helpless when their talking about letters, Peggy does a cute random shimmy while handing Eliza the letter. But then in Satisfied we see that she’s doing the shimmy to the beat of Satisfied, meaning that she knows how Angelica feels and knows about the love triangle

I’m trying really hard not to scream about the rewind of all the dance and action in Satisfaction but please know I am internally screaming about this forever.

Almost forgot, Burr and Hamilton were friends at one point. Burr shows up for his wedding to wish him well :(

I wasn’t gonna scream that much here, but LESLIE ODOM JR.

Leslie’s smile- amused and scoffing disbelief- when singing about Hamilton in Wait for it

Speaking of Wait for it, the way the whole cast is waiting on stage and the balconies as Burr sings. and the way the dancers shift to Hamilton’s direction when Burr talks about him

Also the lighting creates boxes on the stages, like Burr is trapped. But then this reappears in Your Obedient Servant

I never knew the lyrics were “This is commonplace, 'specially 'tween recruits” and not “’tween corps” in Ten Duel Commandments...makes more sense

I think there’s 10 people in that line up in Ten Commandments

The way Stay Alive conflicts Hamilton’s precious notions of sacrifice, and forces him to shift his focus from dying to legacy

The mimic of the bullet in Stay Alive

The way that Eliza is also so excited about the war and the scholars in The Schuyler Sisters and that excitement goes away after she has the actual risk of losing someone she loves because of the war

Who’s the choreographer because DAMN (btw it’s Andy Blankenbuehler)

Also the dancers lifting up other dancers for whole bars? Incredible

The way women are interwoven into the story of the war, singing the chorus and setting the scene and rejoicing with the soldiers at the end

The fucking red lighting in Yorktown. Also, the shot in the song’s pause is one of the best shots in musical history.

The fact that ‘black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom’ ‘not yet’ is a commentary on slavery and the line is said by Washington

The brilliant way What Comes Next undercuts the gravitas of Yorktown .

Also, King George loses more and more of his costume and moves around more as the show goes on. Also, blue lighting with “I’m feeling blue” hahaha

Lafayette and Hercules getting the same letter about Laurens + Hamilton’s sobbing. And Laurens’ singing ‘there will be more of us’, referring to the future generations who will fight and win abolition.

Nonstop:

Burr’s disgust while Hamilton rants. Hamilton’s pouting then childish glee at the beginning

Burr stays at the bottom of the staircase after Hamilton climbs it. Also, Jefferson descends the staircase after Hamilton ascends it, indicating their statuses

The refrain of “How does a....” shows up in Nonstop as Burr’s “How do you write...” (other characters sing their own personal refrains but Burr sings this), and it’s like this ongoing, jealous, incredulous questioning of how Hamilton became so successful, and part of the answer of how he did it is that he doesn’t stop writing and working.

Regardless of which sister he ended up with, love was never gonna be enough for Hamilton

The way Daveed Diggs jumps and dances and dives across the stage in just about every song he’s in. The man truly deserved the Emmy

Jefferson’s being surrounded by his slaves because he sucks

Hamilton’s costume goes from white --> brown-->blue-->green-->black and someone with more color scheme expertise needs to dissect this for me please

The fact that even Burr peaces out when it comes to the affair, like, nope, this is too messed up even for me

An in-universe explanation as to why the Ten Duel Commandments and Phillip’s count is the same is that Hamilton’s killing (metaphorically and literally) in order to stay alive is a part of their family’s DNA.

Anthony Ramos is phenomenal at playing 9 years old then having to switch to 19

The fact that Phillip was probably so determined to defend his father is that this is after the Reynolds Pamphlet and everyone was humiliating and scorning Hamilton

The Room Where it Happened

Hamilton is like an apparation to him, and Burr is both scared and begging the ghost to reveal the truth

The fact that this song is a plot song and a ‘i want’ song and a villain song all at once. Also, the song picks up speed to signal the shift from historical recounting to ‘i want’ song

They replay the beginning where Jefferson/Madison call for Hamilton

Jefferson being the one to ask “Don’t you remember Lafayette”, and there’s like a slight change in his demeanor that’s more Lafayette then Jefferson

Burr, Madison, and Jefferson discreetly talking to each other in Washington on Your Side representing their nefarious schedming. Also, Daveed Diggs keeps Jefferson’s limp even without the cane. Also Madison is angry at Hamiilton when he says “the bill of rights, which I wrote!”

One Last Time:

How perfectly the Bible verse reflects Washington’s opinion of legacy. The younger men are obsessed with preserving their own memories in history, but for Washington, his legacy would be that everyone would be safe and at peace.

Washington’s practically crying at the end

Hamilton asking Washington here to teach him how to say goodbye because Hamilton genuinely doesn’t know how: people left him before he could ever say goodbye

We Know: Jefferson’s pure WTF face when he says “my God...”. In this reaidng, Burr definitely threatened him (I didn’t always intepret that way when listening). But Hamilton’s still an idiot.

Hurricane: Once again, Lin’s facial expressions. The way the the chorus stands around and watches him. But also the freaking brilliant way that the dancers mimic the hurricane, and Burr and Maria are the only other people in the hurricane with Hamilton. But at the end, it’s just Hamilton and the desk

Reynolds Pamphlet: The way Washington can’t even look at him, but Angelica gets in his face to yell at him. Also, Jefferson hands a pamphlet to the conductor

This reading, Phillippa Soo sings Burn with so much rage and fury and that is pretty much my favorite part of this entire film

Hamilton’s face at “Alexander, did you know?”

The fact that Angelica narrates Uptown because it’s too intimate for Burr or anyone else to narrate. Eliza’s changing facial expressions as she slowly lets him in. The way Hamilton just completely breaks down and sobs

The Election of 1800:

Jefferson shaking his head when Madison suggests Hamilton

Burr’s falseness is hilarious. He hands Hamilton a pamphlet.

Jefferson’s look of resignation when Hamilton is making his decision, then starts dancing around when he’s won

The close-up of Burr’s face falling when he realizes who Hamilton has voted for

The whole “runner-up becomes VP” thing made me think about if we could have had Hillary Clinton as VP, and I made myself sad.

Your Obedient Servant: I always saw this song as a reflection of the custom, but I never fully appreciated how it reflects their relationship: their relationship has completely disintegrated, but their working to maintain this false appearance of friendship/civility that no longer has a place in their relationship.

Also, Burr’s increasingly incensed and it does not help that Hamilton sends like a 12-page letter and the dancer even teases Burr

The guy who gives Hamilton Burr’s duel challenge plays Charles Lee. Karma

The World Was Wide Enough

Burr’s POV then Hamilton’s POV, like this story has become less and less about Hamilton and he is no longer in control of who’s telling his story

The shot of Eliza walking away and in her wake, it’s Burr shooting

Burr’s alone in the stage, finally realizing the world (aka the stage) was wide enough for the both of them, but it’s too late. Also, in part foreshadowing his own future: that he had the world before him regardless of Hamilton, but he was completely ruined after this duel

I definitely cried at ‘the orphanage’. Also I interpret the gasp at the end as her breaking fourth wall and seeing the audience and realizing that Hamilton’s legacy has continued even to today.

#hamilton #i know it's cool to hate hamilton now #but i dont #so forgive me for putting this on your dash #agent report #agent h

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alastanor · 4 years ago

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Thanks for tagging me @thalfox this took me a long time to finish, and I'm gonna be dog tired in the morning, but it was worth it. Lol. Hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

1 • What is your MC’s name? What is their name origin? What does it mean (if it ever has a meaning).

❄ Eirlys is Welsh for "Snowdrop" and it is pronounced as either Eye-r-liss, or Aye-r-liss. Depending on which part of Wales you hear the name.

2 • When is their birthday? How old are they? What about their zodiac sign? (bonus point if you give their rising or even their birth/natal chart)

♋ She was born March 10th, and she is a Pisces.

As for her age, this one has more to do with RAD. RAD stands for Royal Academy of Diavolo. An academy, if you search the definition, is typically a school of higher learning or secondary education. Like a college, if you will. But Academy doesn't always refer to a sort of college. In some cases, it can also apply to a High School. My theory is that RAD is a mixture of both. A sort of college, but with hints of High School-esque scheduling and culture. Or perhaps it can function as both. I tend to lean toward the latter, in which case I make Eirlys somewhere between 20 and 23 years old.

3 • What is your MC’s gender? And what are their sexual/romantic preferences?

Eirlys identifies primarily as female with she/her pronouns. She is demisexual, and considers herself panromantic. However, she puts a heavy emphasis on romance.

(Me personally, I don't mind they/them pronouns though I typically identify with she/her. I am also demisexual but biromantic.)

4 • What is your MC’s race? (human, demon, angel, other). If human, what are their nationality and origins?

💁‍♀️Eirlys is human. As for nationality, origins, heritage, etc... Eirlys grew up in Japan, though she herself is not ethnically Japanese.

5 • Before coming to Devildom, what was their occupation? (job, studies…)

📖 Eirlys worked part time in her school's library while attending classes full time at a college overseas.

6 • Height? Weight? Describe their body type.

Eirlys is 5'3" (160 cm) and roughly 110 lbs (49.8 kgs). Her body type would best be described as a triangle/pear shape (slim chest, breasts on the smaller side, while body widens out into voluptuous hips).

7 • Who is/are your MC’s love interest(s) (if they ever have one). Summarise their dynamic.

💛 Eirlys found Mammon irritating when she first met him, and became increasingly frustrated at how he looked down on her for being a human. But over time, as she got to know him, she came to enjoy his conversation and his company. He made her laugh, and despite being a demon he was so full of energy and life that Eirlys found not just refreshing but endearing. Before long, she realized she had fallen in love with him despite the protests of his brothers regarding her taste in men.

🧡 Leviathan was another of the brothers Eirlys found infuriating, not just in how he also looked down on her for being human, but how often he whined and complained about seemingly everything when they first met. But like Mammon, the more she got to know him, the more she found she had in common with Leviathan. Falling asleep on his shoulder watching anime with him in his room, or enjoying his company while playing games, has made it increasingly difficult not to love him in some capacity even if she loves Mammon more. Because of this, she allows Leviathan to believe she would never be interested in him. As cruel as that might be for both of them.

💜 Belphegor, on the other hand, she is fully aware of how he feels about her. She keeps it platonic between them, because even though she has forgiven him for his deceit and his attempt to kill her not once- but twice, she cannot forget it. The memory sours any thoughts of being more than just friends. Somewhere deep in his heart, she is sure Belphie knows this. And deeply regrets it.

8 • Does your MC have any specific appearance features? (Scars, marks, anything else)

She has skin pale as fresh snow, fluffy light pink hair like sweet cotton candy, and clear pale celeste blue/aquamarine colored eyes.

Beyond this, there is nothing remotely remarkable or striking about her.

9 • Does your MC have any disabilities? (physical, mental health, etc). How do they deal with it?

Eirlys has suffered some trauma in the past which has led to some issues. Don't want to give too much away as I am in the process of writing a fic.

10 • How do you imagine your MC’s voice? Describe it.

Her voice is gentle and light. Silvery, dulcet tones might be a good way to describe it. Her voice will get rather harsh and stentorian if she is angry enough.

11 • Does your MC have any tattoos or piercings? Just tell us more about it!

She has pierced ears on her lobes, she was never brave enough to get any in the cartilage as much as she wanted them. Her skin reacts badly to many kinds of metals, a kind of skin allergy, so she can never keep piercings in for very long.

12 • Describe their clothing style (if they have a favorite style). Do they have specific accessories Bonus question: how do they wear RAD uniform?

To sum it up, Eirlys dresses in typically classic chic style with a touch of hipster or grunge here and there.

For her uniform, Eirlys keeps it looking crisp and sleek. These would be good examples. Of fashion types and how she wears her uniform.

The RAD uniform images, the not quite RAD uniform one on the right, I thought the skirt may be more in line with what the uniform used. Versus the pencil skirt-esque look on the left. The boots on the right would also be more akin to what Eirlys would wear.

Is your MC able to use magic? If so, are they skilled? How do they learn? Were they able to use it before coming to Devildom?

🔮 Eirlys is still learning about her abilities, abilities that have not fully awoken though they had been stirred when Solomon allowed her to use his powers. Using his powers was like the catalyst to tapping into a yet untapped wellspring. Though the water from that wellspring has yet to fully come forward.

Before that, Eirlys fully believed she was just another unremarkable human with nothing special about her, as Lucifer often said.

14 • Describe your MC’s parents (names, jobs, personalities). Do they have any siblings? What is their relationship with their family?

🎀 From what Eirlys knows of her parents through stories, her parents loved one another very much. Her mother had been her father's first love in college, and years later they had her. However, when she was still very young her family had been killed by a reckless drunk driver while visiting other family. Eirlys was taken in by her aunt, who worked as a fashion consultant in Tokyo.

15 • How many languages do they speak? Which ones?

🀄 English and Japanese, though she is wanting to learn how to read Devilish and Celestial.

16 • What is their relationship with each brother?

I already mentioned Mammon, Levi, and Belphie above. So I will leave them out here.

🖤 Lucifer - When Eirlys first met Lucifer, she didn't know what to make of him. All she knew was that he was intimidating and likely very dangerous. It took a lot of time for her to not only come to trust Lucifer and feel safe around him, but to like him and understand his motives behind his methods. But Lucifer was never her type, and instead she looks to him now like a younger sister to a reliable older brother. Even if that older brother can be mildly sadistic in his teasing.

💚 Satan - After being introduced to Satan, Eirlys did find him attractive and was excited to find another bookworm even here among all the demons. However, after she was introduced to Satan and came to find Satan smiled when he was angry, she found communicating with him equally as intimidating as Lucifer's threats. Trying to figure out when he was angry and when he was genuinely happy really did a number on her anxiety, and eventually kept her from really communicating with him overmuch for an extended length of time. It wasn't until later that she tried getting to know him better, and coming to find the source of all his anger. That information became the catalyst and foundation to their continuously building and growing friendship.

❤ Beelzebub - Beel has ever been the sweet one, even if he was a bit more distant when they first met. Beel was never outright cold or condescending to Eirlys, and the closer they became the sweeter he became. Before long, she found just how considerate and gentle Beel truly was. Despite this, Beel never appealed to her romantically. Instead, much like Lucifer, she looks to Beel as a gentle and reliable brother of sorts.

💗 Asmodeus - His penchant for lechery always threw Eirlys off balance, being the non-sexual type. When she first met him and found he was the Avatar of Lust, her first instinct was to keep ten yards between them at all times. Asmodeus was the wild card in the deck of seven for Eirlys, because though he has tendencies toward the egotistical side, she can never fully peg him. Even after getting to know him and forming a bond with him. Asmodeus, she found, has ever been able to tell when something he did was making her uncomfortable. He never pushed cuddling beyond what Eirlys wanted it to be or was comfortable with, even if he joked occasionally about doing it naked.

17 • What is their relationship with each side characters?

🐕 Luke: She was rather bemused upon meeting Luke, and seeing him standing in contrast to Simeon lit an amused glint within her eyes. Perhaps it was because he was an angel, but Eirlys bonded with Luke rather quickly. Though she cannot say she likes everything about the child-like angel, as his anti-demon sentiment has grated on her the more she has bonded with the boys (it has grown more half-hearted recently), but she counts Luke among the few within the three realms she can fully rely on.

🕊 Simeon: He was always rather mesmerizing for Eirlys, in ways the demons weren't. Perhaps it was the mystery that surrounded him despite being such a beautiful angel. His eyes, so striking against his features, were particularly what drew her in. Whenever she speaks with Simeon, she cannot help but smile. Despite all this, she has closed her heart off to anything beyond friendship with Simeon. Perhaps because she already has feelings for Mammon and more complicated ones for Leviathan, or perhaps because she feels a relationship with an angel would be too out of bounds for a human like her. Maybe both. Either way, she considers Simeon a very dear friend.

🦋 Solomon: He was one Eirlys didn't think much of when she first met him, though she was rather jealous of his abilities. She did slowly think of him in more friendly terms, however there was always something about him she didn't fully trust. Solomon has ever been the Cheshire Cat to her Alice.

🏵 Diavolo: Eirlys doesn't really have a very strong opinion one way or the other about him. Though the mere fractions of a moment she has spent getting to know him, the more she finds her opinion shifting to the positive. He has demonstrated himself to be incredibly thoughtful, compassionate (for a demon), and mature each time. Even if he hides it behind a constantly smiling face.

🐉 Barbatos: A mysterious and handsome face. This was the first thought that entered Eirlys's mind when she first met Barbatos. But after learning of his abilities and seeing them in action, Barbatos has bypassed all other demons in the intimidation department and landed himself firmly on the "never piss off under any circumstances" list.

Not exactly an accurate graph, but it's the best I can do restricted to mobile.

18 • What is your MC’s main hobbies and passions?

♥️ Her hobbies include: reading, music, dancing (hip hop and the like), anime, manga, video games, dramas, and movies (except horror, because she is a little chicken shit and will be the first to admit it).

♠️ She has a passion for dancing and singing, though she isn't good enough by any means to be considered professional, and typically her singing and dancing has been in rooms alone, in the shower, or driving alone in her car (in the human world).

She also has a big love for stories, especially fantasy and romance. Be they in books, movies, anime/manga, or dramas.

19 • Why did they end up in Devildom in the first place? What happened to them?

An email went out to all the students of high school and college age, explaining the exchange program with a world long thought to be a mere myth stemmed from religion, and nothing more. Those interested in participating could apply and send in their application for consideration. Anyone not interested could simply disregard the email. It explained a deadline, details and requirements for application, along with signing an agreement form explaining the rules of conduct within the Devildom. It was surprisingly thorough and organized for a simple email.

Eirlys was intrigued, but a part of her thought it was just an elaborate prank. Over the next few weeks, she heard more and more about people who had put in an application and eventually she too relented and sent in an application. Though her application was sent right at the last minute. Almost literally.

20 • What is your MC’s MBTI type?

ENFJ

21 • Do they have a pact with each bro? Do they often use their pacts? In which situations?

Yes, she has a pact with each brother. And each pact has left it's mark on her. However, she refuses to use her pacts unless she absolutely has to. Though there are times when she has used them out of anger (think "sit, boy!" from Inuyasha).

22 • What is their favorite place in Devildom?

Her room, the music room, and the Royal Library. Though there is an odd beauty to the old Colliseum when it is empty.

23 • Which sin fits them the most?

This one is difficult, but if I had to pick one I would say Pride or Envy.

24 • Describe their personality.

Eirlys is a rather compassionate and kind person with a passion for life and a fierce loyalty to her select group of friends. She is a genuine, honest, and caring individual and a passionate altruist. Sometimes even to a fault, and she is unlikely to be afraid to take the slings and arrows while standing up for the people and ideas she believes in.

Eirlys won't turn down an opportunity to spend time with those she cares about, even if that means going to social gatherings she would otherwise not attend on her own.

Despite all this, Eirlys can sometime be too idealistic or even selfless to a fault. She is prone to fluctuating self-esteem and may ask for praise or criticism out of insecurity, more than anything else. What's more, some criticisms can be easy for Eirlys to take to heart. Allowing it to further chip away at her self-confidence.

25 • What is their moral alignment?

Neutral good.

26 • Does your MC possess an object/something especially dear to their heart?

No, not really...

27 • Which character(s) do they consider as their best friend(s)?

If Mammon doesn't count considering he is the love interest, then I would have to say Levi and Beel.

28 • Choose a song that fits your MC.

Fight Song by Rachel Platten

29 • What are your MC’s religious beliefs?

Eirlys considered herself Agnostic, with some leaning toward Earthy religions. She had no beliefs in Heaven or Hell, so when she received her invitation that was rather eye opening.

30 • Describe what is inside your MC’s school bag.

Text books, notebooks, mechanical pencils, pens, highlighters, a zip bag for those things, reading books, calculator, and other generic school necessities.

31 • Describe their appearance (pic refs are ofc allowed).

♣️ Eirlys generally has fluffy waves of light pink hair that falls in cascades to the middle of her back, clear celeste blue / aquamarine eyes (haven't fully decided which), and snowy pale skin. She is not very tall, and has a triangle-shaped figure. Her fashion sense typically aligns with classic chic with a touch of hipster and grunge or street punk depending on her mood. And how she wears her uniform typically reflects this fashion sense as well, as her uniform typically looks rather crisp and pristine compared to the demon she loves.

Otherwise the other best examples I have are these images, one from a webcomic on Tappytoons.

The top image is probably as close as I can get, with the changes being thicker hair and eyes that are more blue like the girl in the images below. There is also the matter of her bangs being what curls inward as opposed to the tufts of hair beside her ears. The girl below, her hair is a bit too curly, though and her bangs aren't right. Plus the tufts on the side of her face down curl against her cheeks enough like the images above. But beyond all that, this is as close to an example of what my MC looks like. How she wears her uniform is portrayed above.

Tagging || @mammon-chan @mammoron @obeymesideblog @obeyme-lumos @beelzebubisbestwaifu @slavetothemocha @mammon-squad @mambeelz

And anyone else who wants to join in.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fandom #obey me mammon #obey me mc #the great mammon #obey me eirlys

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justlookatthosesausages · 5 years ago

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“In the eye of the storm” ◊◊◊◊ a post-Frozen 2 fanfic ◊◊◊◊ CHAPTER 2: Twister

"Morning."

"M'ning." Muttered Anna, rubbing her eyes as she entered the room.

She noticed not only that Elsa was already cleaned and dressed – though that last step took only a couple of seconds when you were the Snow Queen – but that she had helped the servants to prepare breakfast, easily guessed by the way she was standing by the table and arranging everything to be at the exact place. Anna preferred to keep her remark about her sister's perfectionism for later.

"You're already awake? How the heck?"

Elsa chuckled lightly at her vocabulary, and her smile filled Anna's soul with as much vitamins than if she had started to eat.

"I'm used to wake up at the first lights of dawn." Said the blonde. "And as you don't have shutters at the windows..."

"You saw light passing through the clouds? All I see is a gloomy weather. With such a storm, the sun is hidden all day."

Elsa realized she didn't register the second half of her sentence.

"You should put shutters or panels at the windows. I know it's not the season to do so, but soon the glass might shatter. I can feel that the wind only will blow more and more in the following days."

"M'kay." Murmured Anna, hugging her then sitting down.

She bit in a yawn to at least have a minimum of decency in front of the maids, even if most of them had known her since she was a child.

The Queen then remembered at the word 'season' that she wanted to talk to her sister about something related to it. But she couldn't grasp what it was. She blinked and shrugged, stretching out her hand to get a slice of bread.

Elsa sat in front of her, like they always did back then when she lived in the castle.

"Thanks for preparing breakfast." Said Anna after she swallowed her third toast.

The blonde smiled behind her mug of tea. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do to thank you for sheltering me on such short notice."

"Sheltering you?" Repeated the younger with shock and amusement in her voice. "Do you hear yourself? Elsa, this is your home too, you're always welcome here."

Elsa smiled, and resumed to drink her black tea. She recognized in Anna's words the ones of her husband, and was touched to see that unconditional hospitality was one of their numerous common traits.

"Where's Kristoff? Don't you wake up at the same time?"

Anna pointed at the door with her thumb while she gulped her coffee with the ferocity of a beast. "He went to Eydis' room to wake her up. She takes like, ten minutes to get out of bed, so he helps Gerda."

Elsa laughed. She remembered well the state and posture of her niece when she had left her bedroom earlier in the morning. "Well, the apple doesn't fall far—"

Anna hit her leg with her foot.

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, don't even dare."

The blonde giggled as she massaged her tibia, now sore, but it was all worth it.

"Good morning darlings!" Smiled Kristoff as he entered, a robe on his pajamas while Anna didn't bother wearing something above it.

He rubbed a hand in Elsa's back and then walked to Anna to kiss her.

"What's that 'darlings' about? You don't call me honey today?" Teased the redhead.

Kristoff smiled. "There's a pot of it on the table already. I didn't want to bring confusion."

Anna eye rolled, but her sigh was also tender. "You really are the worst at puns on mornings."

He sat next to her, shrugging. "You know my brain doesn't work as long as I haven't drunk my coffee. Just like you."

They scrunched their noses staring at each other, teasing with glances.

Elsa smiled looking at them, her cheek laying on her fist.

"AUNTIEEEE!"

"Oh, the little star is here." Commented Elsa, not even turning around.

They all giggled and Eydis hugged her idol powerfully. She then did the same with her parents, and Kristoff almost swallowed his coffee the wrong way.

She ran around looking for the cushion she used to take to sit on a chair and be at their level, and then she ran back to the table once she found it. Eydis was exhaling so much childish joy on mornings that Elsa couldn't help but melt at the sight.

She comically climbed on the chair that was at the end of the table. "Auntie, do you think that Nokk and Gale will make up?"

Elsa blinked as she bit in a cookie. She did not expect that question as the first thing of the day.

"Uh... I don't know, sweetheart."

"Can't you sense it?"

Eydis insisted with her gaze, but her tone hadn't been sarcastic. She was fascinated by the connection the Spirits had between them, and now Anna and Kristoff had lifted their eyes to her to know the answer too.

Elsa felt ashamed to not have what they were looking for.

"I don't... Sense anything else than the fact they put all their power in a conflict. I'm sorry."

Anna frowned with emotion. "Hey, don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

Elsa gulped.

"And I suppose that it's the first time ever that you feel anger emanating from them, isn't it?" Guessed Kristoff.

Elsa nodded. "Indeed. And it's..." Her right hand clenched on the table. "...really unpleasant."

Anna reached for it with her own hand. "It's gonna be okay. It will all end up well, eventually. We'll find a solution today."

The blonde smiled back, and Eydis bounced on her chair.

"Yeah, it will all be okay!"

The adults smiled at her genuine positivity. The girl exclaimed:

"When Nokk will be happy again, will we ride together, me on my pony and you on Nokk?"

Elsa smiled, ruffling her already messy hair. "Sure. I miss them just as much as you do."

She especially loved those rides with her, because she always spent a joyful time with her niece, and also because it drove the Water Spirit nuts to see how slow Eydis' pony was.

=======

Later in the morning, they all sat down in the living room to discuss about solutions. Mattias had joined them, much to Elsa's satisfaction, because she saw him rarely. Either she only had time to come for game nights and go back to the Forest right after, so she didn't get to visit him and Halima in the village, either he was busy training with the Arendelle's army.

"General Mattias. It's always a pleasure."

The man nudged her a bit as they embraced. "Please. Don't tease me. Just go for Mattias."

Elsa giggled. "I still think that this grade suits you well. It does have a ring to it."

Anna entered in the teasing game. "Oh, I only made him general because of how it sounded. Not because of his skills and wisdom. Of which he has none."

The black soldier looked at the dorky sisters with a smirk. "Are you two done?"

"And the fact he's my counselor only is for personal reasons." Kept going Anna, grinning along Elsa. "Not because he helps me in strategic meetings."

"Yeah, I heard you help Anna pick her dresses, is that right?"

They both giggled, and Mattias, even if he was amused, eyed the King from where he was.

"Kristoff, how can you even deal with those two?"

The blonde shrugged. "I don't. I actually plan to murder them with Olaf's help next week. But shh, don't tell anyone."

The sisters laughed even more, now holding to each other.

"What is going on?" Asked Eydis, entering the room with a book under her arm, finally getting out of her morning lesson. She had heard the word 'murder', which she didn't know, and would love to find out.

"Nothing", chuckled Mattias. "How are you, little Princess?"

"Great!" Beamed the little girl. "We started a new course today!"

She showed the book she had been holding.

"It's called trigged... Trigo..."

"Trigonometry?" Helped Elsa and Mattias with one voice.

"Yeah!" Exclaimed Eydis.

"Ooooh, I loved trigonometry when I was your age." Beamed Elsa. "You know, triangles are fascinating. The sum of their angles always equals—"

"Oh my goodness, please someone stops that nerd before she starts talking about fractals." Eyerolled Anna behind Mattias.

"Hey!" Grumbled the blonde, standing up after bending to her niece.

Anna stuck out her tongue as she sat on the couch next to Kristoff.

Mattias bent to Eydis. "You know, it's a really interesting and important class. I'm sure your aunt uses its rules when she crafts structures in ice. In fact, we use knowledge of it in military as well."

The princess' eyes sparkled. "Awesome! And is it practical in handiwork as well?"

The man nodded. "Of course. It's where it's the most useful, I think."

As she jolted along him, Elsa looked at her sister while she sat in the sofa by the couch. "Handiwork?" She repeated with a frown.

Anna waved her hand in the air. "She plays handiwork a lot lately. It's more 'pretend' than actually building anything, but she loves it. Craftspeople all around the village offered her tools so she could have a little kit."

"That's adorable." Smiled Elsa.

"Yeah, well, when she taps against door frames and stairs railings late in the night saying "this needs to be fixed!" and then mimes to bang nails in it or saw some parts, it's less fun."

The blonde giggled, sorry for them but deeply amused.

"This is as cute as dangerous", said Anna, "but don't worry, she hasn't broken anything on purpose. Yet."

"Lately she said she got a new hammer, and I suspect Oaken to have given him. Let's hope she'll not use it soon." Smiled Kristoff.

"I'll maybe confiscate her toolkit..." Sighed Anna, looking at her daughter talking with Mattias.

Kristoff frowned.

"Don't, that would break her heart. She loves handiwork just like you love to read novels, Anna. It's her passion."

They smiled at the father's wisdom.

"You're right." Admitted Anna.

"And I know someone who was just as dangerous when she was her age..." Teased Elsa.

The Queen lifted her eyebrows. "Who? Me?"

The blond chuckled, turning to her. "How many times did you say you made the armors fall apart again?"

She pushed him away, but her tiny hand on his muscular chest didn't make him move an inch. "Alright, alright. I was a constant mess and she inherited from me. Here, is that what you wanted to hear?"

The two others laughed a yes.

Mattias joined them and they started to think about all the possibilities to compensate the magic storm. The discussion went on for a full hour, and as Elsa now was nervously fidgeting with a cushion as she declined all of their suggestions because of how impossible to do they were, Anna was just as nervously standing up. Pacing back and forth in front of the lit fireplace, she searched for a solution to help her sister, but also her kingdom which was starting to get impacted by such a weather condition. Arendelle had known many terrible natural events in its history, but this one had been going on for many days without a pause. It started to tire the people and reduce the resources. She turned to her elder.

"Elsa, you know the best way is to get to Ahtohallan and get their opinion on this."

The blonde lifted her eyes to her, a bit annoyed.

"And Anna, I told you a dozen times already that I can't cross the sea."

The Queen agitated her hands. She wasn't going to give up easily.

"We should try together. We'll cross the Dark Sea despite the storm. We're the Bridge, nothing can stop us! I'm going to ask to prepare a ship from my private float..."

Elsa widened her eyes.

"Anna, no. That's out of question."

"Why? I should help you! I want to help you!"

Elsa now frowned.

"You will not go in a ship to Ahtohallan!"

"What?"

"Especially with a weather like this."

"WHY?!" Erupted Anna, enraging.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT YOU TO GO IN A STORM ON A SHIP!"

Elsa's voice filled the room with force as she suddenly stood up. Kristoff and Mattias turned to her with shocked faces. Eydis retracted on the couch, holding her knees against her chest in fear. All got startled by how Elsa had suddenly raised her tone, something she very rarely did. Breathing heavily, she locked her eyes with her little sister.

Anna definitely was the most stunned of them all. Standing still by the fireplace, her lips trembled. She stared at Elsa intensely, but unlike the blonde's eyes which were panicked, hers eyes were sad, and filling with tears turning her vision blur. She saw that Elsa's eyes were teary as well.

She could also tell that, in that gaze, was almost printed the mental image of an Arendellian ship grimly lit by a lightning bolt and sinking in giant waves, never returning home.

The redhead gulped, gasping in a breath she had been holding.

"Elsa, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

The elder sighed. "Yes, I know..."

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "But still, please never bring up that suggestion again. Ever."

The room remained silent, and she picked up the cushion she had made fall to the carpet when she stood. However, she didn't sit to hold it against her. She put it back on the sofa, and walked to the door.

"I... Sorry, I need a break. I'll meet you guys later."

Anna gasped.

"Elsa..."

Her voice was weak and devastated, and she bit her lip in a pout as the blonde left the room.

The two men exchanged a look, not daring to add a word, and Eydis stared sadly at the spot where her aunt's back had turned to the corridor.

The Queen crossed the room to go after her, but Kristoff held her arm. He stood up to be at her side. He shook his head.

"Don't push her. You know you have to give her some space."

"Yes, of course." Murmured Anna grudgingly.

She lowered her gaze, and agreed with him. Anna could only clear her throat and change the topic, so they would talk about something else until she felt the time was right to go talk with her sister.

=======

"The past is in the past", Elsa had often said through the years since they got closer again.

The redhead held to this promise with dear life. By experience with her sister, Anna knew that her time alone wouldn't be long, and that she was allowed to gently ask to burst her bubble.

As she walked up the stairs, she felt like it was entirely her fault if Elsa was nervous after their argument and needed to isolate herself. She should never have suggested this stupid idea of going on a ship! Why did she suggest this stupid idea of going on a ship?!

Anna was so angry at herself that her knock on the wood of the door actually was stronger than she meant. However, Elsa didn't respond. Usually, she would say "Come in", or just "Hmm" to indicate Anna was welcome to enter. But here, nothing.

The younger's heart clenched. Persuaded she was the problem, she didn't dare to open the door, even if it looked unlocked.

"Elsa..."

She gulped. Why was it so hard to do that again? She knew that years had gone by, that their relationship was completely different and open now. It was so difficult to dive into this setting once again. Anna had known this situation for ages, but nothing could have prepared her to return to it.

Her hand clenched in a fist against the lacquered wood.

"Elsa, please, answer me. Please."

Without realizing it, her breathing sped up.

"Elsa..."

The Queen was rapidly having a panic attack. Not again. Not this situation. Please, gods, anything but this situation again. She couldn't go through it again.

Her legs felt like cotton, and she fell to the corridor's floor.

Anna's nails rasped the door.

"Elsa, I'm—"

"Anna, what are you doing?"

The redhead gasped loudly, and in the gesture, she swallowed a water drop, which was a tear that had fallen on her face and she hadn't noticed.

She spun around, falling on her butt as she did because of how fast she turned, and saw that Elsa was walking to her with frowned eyebrows and a concerned face, closing the book she visibly had been reading.

"Why are you here crying on the floor? What is going on?"

Anna had to gulp to form an answer, and in the meantime, the blonde's eyes darted to the door. Everything clicked in her mind like a puzzle.

"Oh Ahtohallan, you thought I shut you out?"

The redhead was unable to answer something else than a bubble of cry, her lips twitching in a tearful pout. She nodded, trembling. Elsa urged to go crouch to her.

"Anna... Hey, hey it's okay. Come here."

The younger didn't wait for a second call. She launched herself in her arms and sobbed silently on Elsa's shoulder. The Snow Queen recognized the too-familiar behavior of a panic attack, and she passed a hand along Anna's back and in her long hair to soothe her breathing. Acting like magic, and maybe it was, the redhead calmed quickly, melting in Elsa's embrace. The elder held her tight.

"I'm so sorry. I went to the library to get a register, and..."

She didn't add more. What was the purpose? She felt terrible for making Anna believe she didn't want to see her.

Elsa delicately parted the hug, and looked at her sister in the eyes.

"I would never, ever shut you out, okay? I know I'm still very bad at making it clear on why and how I need time alone, but... It's never to abandon you."

Anna nodded, gulping loudly again, and gasping because she still had her throat twisted by her emotion.

"Sorry for doubting it." Admitted the younger.

Elsa gasped in an exclamation as she rubbed Anna's tears. "You're really not the wrongdoer, you know!"

Anna had a smile at the corner of her lips. Minutes passed as Elsa made sure that her little sister retrieved her normal breathing. Finally, they stood up, and after she cleaned her face, Anna saw the book she picked from the floor.

"That's a register?"

"Hmm-hmm." Nodded Elsa, showing it to her.

As Anna turned the pages and realized what it was meant to take in account, Elsa continued: "Our argument earlier... That actually gave me an idea. Follow me."

The redhead blinked in confusion, but walked behind her elder through the castle, until they reached the servant's room where she knew Kai and Gerda would be at that time of day. Elsa asked if they were available, and the four of them went to a silent spot in the corridor.

"Kai, Gerda... You're the oldest servants we have. What I mean is, you were there when the accident with our parents happened."

The two widened their eyes, and Anna turned to her sister with emotion.

"Do you remember if the storm that happened that night was the same than the one occurring when Mother and Father were lost at sea?" Asked Elsa.

The maid looked at the ceiling as she thought. "Hum... Maybe..."

Her gaze then went from one sister to another. "Can't you tell?"

Elsa had a sad smile. "Anna was too shocked by the loss to remember it in detail, and me too, but I also was locking myself indoors, so I could tell even less about the weather..."

Anna turned to her sister again. She knew how shocked she was? Of course she knew. But that still was touching.

"I see..." Nodded Gerda.

"Well... We can't really know." Said Kai, looking sorry. "It was a stormy night like any other."

Gerda agreed. "I only remember that ships were unadvised to go sail that night and all stayed on the harbor, but the ship of your late parents had already departed an hour or so before..."

Anna lowered her eyes. "The wind had come up after they left. It was just misfortune."

"Yes."

Something held Anna's hand and it surprised her. Elsa squeezed her touch, and the redhead smiled sadly. "It was a good idea to investigate on that. But apparently, the two events don't coincide."

Kai looked at them. "Indeed, the storm which happened that day wasn't magical in any way."

Gerda turned to Elsa. "I have yet to understand fully the nuance between the magic of the Spirits of Nature and the science of meteorology, but the storm that happened that day more than ten years ago truly wasn't the same that we endure today. It was less intense and shorter."

Elsa nodded. She also paid attention to the subtext Gerda gave when she said she still was confused about knowing that there were Spirits associated to elements, and that the soft and shy little princess she had seen grow up had become a goddess able to command them.

"Thank you for your precisions." Smiled Anna.

Once they both bowed and returned to their activities, she turned to her elder. "It was brilliant that you came up with that conclusion."

Elsa looked at her, her eyes a bit lost in a reflection.

"I can't tell if the news that this is not the same kind of storm makes me relieved or worried..."

Anna winced. "Me neither."

=======

Eydis, however, was extremely relieved to see her aunt back after her other class of the morning, jumping at her sight at the lunch table. After the first course, she asked her to make a dome to cover her plate because she heard her mother on the other side of the table say that she was capable of doing everything with her magic. Elsa smirked, and flicked her wrist in the air. A glass-like cloche made of ice fell on her dish with a satisfying 'click' like it was tailor-made.

"Waaaoh!" Exclaimed Eydis, and she clapped in admiration like Elsa just did something utterly incredible.

The Snow Queen grinned however, because coming from her, it was a lovely compliment.

"Eydis, eat your vegetables. If you let it too long under Elsa's dome, it will get colder." Warned Anna.

"Yes, Mama." Pouted the girl, grabbing the cloche with her tiny hands to put it aside.

Elsa bit her lip and wiggled her finger, and in a crisp of frost, Eydis hands got stuck to the ice. She noticed it by the sensation and the fact she now was unable to put it down, and she giggled loudly.

"Auntieeee!"

Elsa laughed openly. Eydis continued to shake the dome up and down to get rid of it, laughing even more.

"Elsa, please let her eat."

The blonde rolled her eyes at Anna being a killjoy, and vanished it. The princess was disappointed, but the Snow Queen pointed at the vegetables to remind her it was important for her to eat them.

Elsa and Anna chatted lightly and after a while, it reminded the little girl of the argument they had a few hours before.

"I can build a ship."

Elsa turned to her. "Pardon?"

"I can build a ship to bring you to At-the... A-tho..."

"Ahtohallan." Smiled Elsa.

"Yeah. That."

"You can build ships? Entire ships?" Teased Elsa.

"Yes I can!" Exclaimed Eydis, thinking she doubted of her. "I've become really good at building stuff! I have all the tools! I even have screwdrivers! And I have rulers, and a new hammer, and I even got a chisel and—"

"A chisel?" Suddenly worried the blonde.

"I took it away from her."

Elsa sighed at Anna's sentence, easily imagining the fiery princess running around the castle with such a blade.

"But I need it to help the village's carpenter!" Pouted Eydis, shocked to know her mother did such a thing.

"You'll help him by assisting him", calmed Kristoff, finding a compromise.

It seemed to work, because the girl grumbled but returned to eating what was in her plate.

"Every Wednesday, she goes in the village and he teaches her some stuff. The architect working with him once said that she's got good pen stroke skills. Apparently, she already got perspective, which is rare at her age."

Anna chew on her piece of cheese and pointed at her elder.

"That is something she inherited from you."

Elsa smiled with delight, and she felt her cheeks get warmer in pride. She looked down at Eydis, and her smile disappeared when she saw that the girl currently was pulling her steak with her teeth. Anna sighed.

"Elsa, could you help the carnivore cut her meat?"

Eydis whined and Elsa complied, giggling.

After she did, she turned to her sister and brother-in-law.

"I'll take notes of the weather's intensity today, and see if it gets worse tomorrow. In the morning, I'll go investigate to see how big the storm is, and to which scale it extends."

"I'll come with you." Announced Anna.

Elsa frowned. "No, don't let me go on how dangerous it is for you."

"I don't risk anything if I'm with you." Underlined the redhead, knowing well what arguments to use with her.

The blonde got speechless.

"Touché." Muttered Kristoff as he drank his glass of red wine.

"Will you request for the other Spirits' help?" Inquired Eydis.

"Maybe I'll ask for the Giants to give us a hand, yes. Quite literally." Smiled Elsa.

"And will you need my help?"

The Snow Queen heard in that question that her niece was desperately asking for her to say yes to bring some adventure to her daily life, and the following day surely was filled with boring classes. However, she had to say no. She would never risk Anna's life, all the more for Eydis.

"No, but you'll be very helpful once you'll learn everything about trigonometry to help the carpenter."

"Really?" Beamed the princess, not even realizing she diverted the topic.

"Yes! And if you're nice, I might buy you a spirit level. It will be your most precious asset in handiwork, trust me."

Eydis' eyes sparkled even more. "Is it magical?"

"What? No, it's based on a bubble—"

She then realized what she had just said, and that she was talking to a child.

"Yes. Yes obviously. It's magical. It's a spirit level, of course it is."

"Awesome!"

Eydis then returned to her plate, and Elsa exchanged an amused look with her parents.

"Spirits magic really is awesome." Muttered Eydis, chewing on her meat.

=======

"Can I sleep with Auntie tonight as well?"

Kristoff snorted. "This is becoming a habit, uh?"

Eydis pushed the storybook he was reading her by the fire in the living room and turned with an adorable pout.

"Pleeeease."

She then looked genuinely sad. "I don't see her often."

The King melted at the sight. "Sure, I'll go tell her."

He stood up and she clamped to him like a baby koala. "No, wait, stay."

Kristoff smiled. "Why?"

As an answer, the wind outside started to blow, making the windows tremble. It made a haunting sound when it passed by the chimney, and the flames danced a bit. They didn't notice the storm much by day when they were inside, because they were busy or talking, but now that night had fallen, the castle was quiet, and it emphasized its violence.

"You're scared of the storm?"

She shook her head to say no, but her red cheeks and glittering eyes stated the opposite. Kristoff held her tight.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just wind and rain. You're safe in the castle."

"But it's magic."

He passed a hand on her hair. "Yes, but this magic will never harm you. I promise."

Kristoff then smiled. "Is it company you look for? Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?"

Eydis grumbled, stepping out of the embrace. "No! I'm a big girl now. I don't need you to take care of me like a baby."

Her father understood that she was referring to him and Anna. "Okay."

She hugged him again however, and Kristoff took note that sleeping with her aunt, even if she was close family, didn't make Eydis feel like she was smothered.

When he joined Elsa later and he told her her wish, he also shared his thoughts.

"Yeah, it's very common for children of her age." Nodded Elsa. "Many Northuldra kids ask for a separate hut before they even are ten years old. It's normal, and it will pass. Trust me. Neither Anna or me were like that at her age, for we had a... Quite special childhood... But I'm certain that it's normal for Eydis."

"I'm not really a reference either." Chuckled Kristoff nervously, for he got raised by trolls.

"I'll sleep with her and keep an eye on her, don't worry. It makes me happy too."

"Great."

An hour later, Eydis and her were under the sheets, and this time the princess didn't request a chime, for the wind had calmed down to the benefit of rain, now a downpour. Thankfully, the drops weren't pushed to the windows, so it was a rather calm night, and Elsa smiled when she saw how soundly her niece was sleeping. She soon closed her own eyes and let herself drift to sleep.

=======

Eydis coughed lightly when she swallowed something tiny and cold. She frowned, her eyes still closed, and rubbed her mouth. As she did, the girl felt the familiar sensation of sharp touches of a snowing day and wondered why she felt it on her skin then. It must be a very realistic dream...

She fell to sleep again, turning on her pillow, but was woken up by a second tiny and cold thing falling in her ear this time. With a groan, she shook her head and wagged her arms around to get rid of what she thought were flies. Confused, she opened her eyes, and what her brown irises sparkled at the sight of a billion snowflakes falling in her bedroom.

They magically formed under the ceiling, then dropped slowly to the floor, vanishing just before hitting the carpet and the parquet. Eydis forgot to blink for a moment because of how jaw-dropping she was, and winced with clenched eyelids when she remembered that she had to. She kneeled then stood on the bed, watching what was happening in awe. Like silver dust, the snowflakes started to form a forest, and two people running around the trees. They didn't look very real, thought Eydis, and it reminded her of the illustrations in the storybooks her father read to her. She wondered if she were dreaming, and pinched her arm. After a wince, she noted that she definitely wasn't; as awesome as it was, what was happening in her bedroom really was happening in her bedroom.

Eydis hummed. She had heard multiple times from her mother that Elsa would sometimes conjure snow when she's upset. The little girl felt sad for her, and looked down at her aunt's face, but she was sleeping peacefully, even smiling. Everything clicked in the princess' brain: Elsa's smiles and moans were in sync with what was happening in the air. Was she controlling that show? Was she pranking her? No, she looked like she was genuinely sleeping, even if she had a calm breathing, just like her father when he had naps on the couch.

Eydis stood up, admiring the scene, not daring to touch the little characters at first, but then interacting with them with her fingers, following the trail of the forest that got drawn here. She squinted as she tried to understand who the two persons were. One looked just like Elsa, and the other, she couldn't quite understand, because they kept jumping on tree logs while the magic-drawing-Elsa clapped at her. She heard them both laugh, and it sounded weird, like it was distant and pitched like a bell.

The princess turned around the room to see more. The two were playing 'catch me' and giggling louder and louder in the forest. Eydis turned when she heard Elsa laugh slightly in her sleep. Suddenly, the magic-drawing-Elsa got caught by the other person because they had been hiding behind a tree, and Eydis finally recognized who it was when they talked, still with a bell-like voice.

"I won! Told you I could get you in no time." Laughed Honeymaren.

"Okay, okay, one point for you. I'll do the dishes."

Eydis heard Elsa laugh again in the bed, and she beamed at the scene. So it was Elsa and Honeymaren playing! She saw the mini-Elsa picking up pots and spoons and walking to what looked like a river, wide and going through the whole bedroom. It flowed like actual water with all its tiny snowflakes strolling in one move, and Eydis couldn't help but touch it with a "Woaaaw..."

She had to show this to her parents. She ran to the door, her forehead going through ice projections of branches, and she blinked with a giggle when it fell to her eyes. Eydis shook her head and ran in the corridor to her parent's bedroom.

"Mama! Mama!"

Anna grumbled at the sudden intrusion, noise and weight on her as Eydis jumped on the bed.

"Your daughter is awake", muttered Kristoff.

Anna sighed. "Sorry, but I technically have 'People of the Sun' blood, so before sunrise, she's your daughter."

"Mama!" Insisted Eydis, shaking Anna's shoulders specifically.

"What, sweetie?" Murmured the redhead.

"Elsa does magic!"

"Yes, we're aware."

"She is having visions! She has magic all over! The whole bedroom has ice in it!"

It took Anna a second, then her eyes opened wide.

"What, WHAT, WHAT?"

Those three informations were very alarming.

"Come, quick!"

No need to tell her twice. Anna jumped out of bed, hurrying. She was way faster than her daughter, and opened her bedroom's door wide. She gasped when she saw the scene. Just like Eydis, she couldn't help but contemplate it. She looked at every detail, at the trees, at the rocks, at the way they were made of what looked like a billion of stars. Emotion roamed in her heart and in her guts. It simply was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen in her life.

"Incredible..." She whispered.

Eydis finally arrived, and bumped headfirst into her back.

Stumbling, her mother then walked to Elsa still sleeping soundly, and was about to wake her up, but she looked so happy and peaceful with a smile matching her dream that she didn't dare to.

"Mama!" Exclaimed Eydis, rubbing her forehead. "Why did you stand there? It hurts!"

She had been talking with a regular voice, and Elsa stirred in her sleep. She frowned as something woke her up, and her dream projection softly vanished. The sparkles of magic disappeared, much to Anna's and Eydis' disappointment.

Elsa blinked, and suddenly widened her eyes when she saw her sister and her niece staring right at her in the dark.

"Uhhh... Hello?"

Anna inspected her face, like she was checking for fever signs by a simple gaze.

"...What is going on?" Worried Elsa.

"Are you okay?"

"I... Well, yes. I'm perfectly fine."

A smile even stretched her lips. She actually felt great. She couldn't tell why, but her brain was filled with happiness.

"Why are you two looking at me like this?"

Anna sat on the sheets in front of her sister.

"Elsa... Your dream was materializing."