#was the titanic reference necessary? yes. yes it was.
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Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Title: Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Synopsis: You're an artist, with no muse. Until Mahito shows up on your back porch.
Word count: 3500ish
notes: yandere, mild body horror, reader is a trans male
“I want you to paint me,” Mahito says, with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. No smile, no leer today. Just a somber frown as he appears from nowhere--as he often does--and sits himself in front of you.
The cool summer evening air would smell as clean as the breeze, but for the cigarette lazily perched in the ashtray on the edge of the porch.
Smoking. Your one vice. Or is it your eighth? You don’t keep much track of your vices, these days. If you did, you might actually try to quit them. But smoking is one of two current addictions that you can’t fathom letting go of right now.
The other one is sitting next to you.
"Like one of my French girls?” you murmur, lips quirking up.
Mahito tilts his head towards you, still frowning. You wonder, idly, if he has an actual brain inside his skull. Do curses have brains? You’re not sure about the technicalities of how they function, but it’s not something you’d really like to ask Mahito, either.
But it’s like you can see his brain working from the minute movements of his body language. The body is one thing you’re usually good at reading, and you ought to be, considering your career. No one wanted paintings from someone who didn’t understand the basics of body movement.
“Ah,” he says, finally, with a small smile. “Titanic. Directed by James Cameron. 1997.” His smile gets a little perkier. On anyone else, that smile might look deranged. But it suits Mahito, you think.
“I liked the sinking part the best. The way they…” He flicks his fingers in the air, and makes an eerily accurate sound reminiscent of bodies banging against metal parts. “And the frozen baby!” He closes his eyes almost all the way, leaving just enough room for you to see his gaze slide over to you. “Humans do love representing their own misery, don’t they?”
Something squeezes in your chest. It might have been a barb about you and your work; and it might not have been. One of the trickiest things about Mahito was that you could never be sure when he was trying to hurt you, and when he wasn’t.
The worst part was, you knew that it didn’t matter either way. It wasn’t like you’d ever ask him to leave. He knew that, too. Maybe that was the actual worst part.
He doesn’t elaborate on his statement. Instead, he leans his head back, looking at the darkening sky; the deep blue of the evening oozing away to make room for the blacker part of the night. His profile like this is fascinating--the way his hair seems to almost shimmer in the fading light, falling back against the side of his neck.
“Well?” He asks.
You couldn’t say no. You were already imagining ways to capture him, like this. In profile, staring up at the sky with eyes that were anything but human. With a brain that was perhaps not a real brain. With a body he could change at will.
Despite all that, here he is, sitting on your porch, breathing in your cigarette smoke and staring up at the ordinary evening sky.
What does he see that you don’t? That no human does? Why does he even come around you, when he could be off trying to--your brain fumbles for snatches of what he’s told you--battling sorcerers?
Maybe you can capture something of the answer in your painting.
“Okay,” you say, lightly, even though the answer is anything but. “But we have to go inside for the sketch. There’s not enough light out here this late.”
Mahito smiles. In profile, you see only the half of it, the edge of his lips curling, a glimpse of his teeth.
You’ll be up all night sketching, trying to capture this expression.
--
Your first finished painting of Mahito isn’t all that great. The evening skyline was done from memory because the next few days had been cloudy and they stole the sky’s normal colors away. And no amount of mixing could quite give you the right shade for his hair; you put something new on order, a type of shimmer pigment. That might help for future pieces.
The expression, though. There was something in that. Something not quite human that you managed to capture, although if you had to do it over, you’d reconsider taking your drawing from sketch to painting. The sketch had something raw to it, like Mahito might just turn his head and wink at you.
As an artist, you knew that such a subject was rare. It was not always easy to find inspiration that kept you working almost relentlessly, eager and passionate rather than staring at an empty canvas and willing the world to send something to you.
Mahito was a gift, wasn’t he? To an artist. To someone like you, who needed something to make your work stand out. And it does, here. Mahito looks unusual--striking, beautiful, but with something unpleasant itching to get out from underneath his skin.
But still. It’s flawed.
And that’s not the standard artist humble-brag designed to avoid a reputation of pompous pride. Your paintings, as a whole, just aren’t good enough.
It’s why the galleries rejected you. Why what few connections you had with other painters tended to fade away, becoming more and more untethered as they were invited to galas, as they held openings, as their works went to auction, and you…
You sat on your porch smoking and waiting, heart pacing, for a curse to show up on your door.
--
Mahito stands in front of the revealed piece, quietly observing it. His fingers reach out and skim the canvas, bumping along a few rough areas of paint. His mouth parts a few times, then closes.
You expect him to be blunt with some kind of critique. He’s never been shy with honesty, no matter how hurtful. It was something you hated and loved all with one confusing, awful sameness.
Instead, his gaze flits over every square of the canvas enough times that sweat begins to bead down the back of your neck. Does he hate it? Is he about to tell you that you’d be better off doing something else, something more ordinary, something more mundane?
No.
What he does is turn his head towards you, slowly, something that is not quite a smile on his face. An expression that makes you think of the back porch, sunsets and cigarette smoke.
“Now do it again.”
--
You should hate this, really. Someone who sticks around and more or less demands that they be your muse. Most artists purge these types of people from their lives, unwanted flypaper hangers-on who pout and demand to be painted.
But Mahito is your muse, and you don’t hate it, and you don’t think he’s clingy or desperate like others who have found themselves on your back porch before.
He’s your muse simply because he exists. You could not fathom knowing Mahito and not committing him to the canvas. The only shock is that it was his idea, not yours; and maybe, deep down, you were too afraid to ever ask him. In case he said no.
So you draw him, and paint him. He drapes himself over your couch wearing nothing, spreads himself on your bed with winter clothes in the summer heat; perches on the end of the kitchen stool and watches gnats circle a bowl of bananas.
The ideas are his, mostly.
And the pieces are interesting. “Intriguing,” your regular art gallery said, when you submitted the one of Mahito sprawled out in a fuzzy scarf and hat and puffy winter coat while sweat clung to his forehead from the summer afternoon sun.
Interesting, intriguing, a striking model… and yet. They’re still not enough--not enough to get paid. Not enough to get noticed.
Not enough to get you out of bed some days, when all you want to do is smoke lying down and hope the smoke alarm in your bedroom still has low batteries.
This is how Mahito finds you this morning. Half-resting on sore elbows while smoke wafts up to your ceiling, imperceptibly adding to the layers of brown and yellow build up.
“Hey.”
He pokes your nose. You blink, slowly turn your gaze towards him. Then close your eyes and let out another puff of smoke.
“You’re being mopey,” he says, flatly. Not teasing or whining, certainly not with sympathy. Just a matter-of-fact.
The options weigh heavy on your shoulders. It’s not like you two don’t talk about serious things. But God, with Mahito, the roles are reversed between artist and muse. You’re the clingy one, the one desperate to keep him around; afraid that the wrong word or gesture might make him blip out of your life as quickly as he came into it.
Who were you, if you didn’t have Mahito? Just another failing artist who could barely afford their cigarette addiction.
But you trust him. Because he’s here. Because he hasn’t left yet. Because when you’re drawing him and you ask him to lift his arm up, he somehow knows the exact angle you mean, every time. So you lick your lips and look up at him with tired, reddened eyes.
“They’re not enough.” A pause. “The paintings, I mean. No one will buy them.” You drop the rest of your cigarette in the ashtray on your night stand. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
You do know, though. Your paintings aren’t interesting enough anymore. What little buzz you’d generated in your first break onto the scene from your fantastical horror work had long since faded, as had your inspiration for such pieces.
It wasn’t enough to play with color and light, to perfectly capture the sun through an opaque curtain playing on Mahito’s hair while black flies buzzed onto overripe fruit. Of course not. People wanted more. You just weren’t more, now. If you were ever that.
Mahito crawls onto your bed, languid; it’s not the first time he’s been so close, so intimate, but it gives you goosebumps nonetheless. He curls himself behind your back and runs a finger down your arm.
“They like your older work,” he muses. You’ve ranted about this, and he apparently listened, which makes you feel at least a little least sour. “So why don’t you paint like that again?”
So much for feeling a little less sour. You curl inwards, eyes fixated on the dimming red glow of your cigarette in its tray.
Mahito pokes your shoulder. Impatience. You can feel it building in him, in the way his arm muscles tense, just a little. When he gets bored, he sometimes leaves.
You don’t want him to leave, so you force the words out, although you’d rather keep them private. Your mouth feels sticky when you talk, but you press on.
“My old stuff was before…” You know he knows, but you’ve never pinned down a single way to explain it to him. “Before I figured myself out. Before a lot of things, I guess.” Mahito’s hand wraps itself around your stomach, and you reach out to intertwine your fingers. To keep him with you, if such a thing were possible.
“I haven’t had the same type of inspiration in a long time,” you admit. “So I don’t know how to just…” Flashes of your old canvases come to mind. Demons and ghosts and landscapes of terrible beauty. “Get back into that head space.”
There is a stretch of silence that begins to worry you. Maybe you are too boring, maybe you’re whining, maybe whatever this is has run its course and he’ll leave and you’ll have nothing to your name but this empty apartment and your empty life.
But then Mahito grips your shoulder and pushes you firmly, swiftly, onto your back. There’s a dull ache where he touches you and you stare up into his eyes, wide and bright even in the darkness. He’s grinning. He’s grinning, and it’s beautiful and ugly--
And on his side, arms sprout out; some with mouths sporting their own grins. Behind him, arms upon arms, hands upon hands. A grotesque vision come to life in your dim apartment bedroom. You can see it now, on canvas. A creature with greedy hands outstretched to the world, taking what it wants, when it wants.
You can see Mahito, posting, while you furiously work at the easel. You know you’ll work until your hands cramp, desperate enough to capture every microexpression in pencil before it fades.
Mahito, the muse, painted again and again. Until your hands cramp, until your eyes are red and burning.
“Does this inspire you?” he says, a bright giddiness in his tone fading into something lower and warmer as he leans down to capture your lips.
You’re not certain which of you tastes the most of ashes.
--
The paintings are perfectly grotesque. Inspirational. Disturbing.
“And yet,” the director continues, tapping his pen against his chin, “so life-like. You can hardly tell where the real model ends and your imagination begins.”
Because, of course, humans cannot sprout extra limbs from their sides. Humans cannot stretch their tongues to wrap around their body like a rope. Humans cannot pull open the flesh of their stomachs to reveal what’s inside.
Not without dying, anyway.
You’d almost asked Mahito if that was what curses looked like on the inside--if they had organs, like stomachs and lungs--but thought better of it. Knowing would be worse than pretending.
When you pretend, you can ignore the growing sickness in your stomach as the paintings become worse--and better. As Mahito pushes you farther and farther, and you’re not sure if you want to turn back.
When you pretend, life with Mahito doesn’t seem very fucked up at all.
“Keep it up,” the director tells you, thumbing through the wad of ghastly cash he hands over for your latest piece. It’s enough to pay off your rent and bills and cover cigarettes and booze and some new books for Mahito, though you’re sure he just steals them when he’s not with you.
And you do--keep it up.
Because Mahito wants to, and because despite all the disturbing dreams you begin to have after sessions of drawing and painting, your new works really are better. More visceral and alive; galleries want them.
They want you.
You feel seen, finally, for who you are and what your hands can do--
How could you turn that away?
--
“I don’t know,” you say, slowly, watching the thing Mahito brought with him writhe on the table.
It was soft and gelatinous, like a blob of moving goo. At first, that’s what you thought it was: something he scooped out of a container at a toy store that sold novelty slimes.
But this wasn’t some gob of bright orange or neon blue with a telltale sticky sheen that told parents that yes, mom and dad, this was going to wind up sticking to the carpet by the end of the day.
This was light beige, with two big black spots that looked a bit like eyes. It was larger than you think a toy slime would have been and it--well it moved. Really moved. Not just from a slight breeze drifting in through the window or due to its own gelatinous nature.
It was--whatever it was--alive.
It had eyes, and perhaps that bit of discolored beige was hair, and that was it. Two eyes, slick, shiny skin, and no mouth at all.
“It’s a statement piece,” Mahito says simply, even happily, as he adjusts the blob to his liking on the table. He tries out a series of poses that you direct with hesitation--looking down at it with his chin resting in his elbow, holding it in his arms like some sort of stuffed bear, endless, restless poses, all punctuated by the strange writhing of the thing.
The two of you finally settle for Mahito looking one way, and the blob--were those its eyes?--facing another. A contrast between colors and shapes and Mahito’s lithe form and the writhing blob. But while there is a dim satisfaction in putting Mahito onto the canvas, a sense of self-worth and pride that grows with every stroke, you put off working on the blob until the last possible minute. Your body seems to know why, even if your mind doesn’t.
At the end of the night, you start to ask a question that’s been on your mind the entire evening--
“Mahito?”
But when he turns, a small smile on his face, blob in hand, the words die in your throat.
You say nothing as he leaves. You work a little more on the painting, avoiding half the canvas, not wanting to think about what it was that Mahito brought and why he brought it.
That night, you dream about a garden of squirming, writhing blobs.
--
Today, Mahito has no mouth.
And today, you’ve decided, that this will be your last Mahito piece. No more. Not a single one. The singular lack of a mouth is not even as horrific as some of the other ways Mahito has posed for you, but somehow, it’s the one that terrifies you the most.
Mahito has no mouth, and you can’t even ask him why.
Mahito has no mouth--
Mahito has no mouth, and he wants you to paint him.
He tells you this, in gestures. Maybe if he was over the top about it--if he was wildly waving his hands, if he made a game of it--then it wouldn’t make you feel so wrong. But he’s slow, methodical. Serious.
It makes your stomach clench on nothing but whisky and overcooked eggs.
But you let him bring out one of your mirrors and set it up in front of a stool so you can paint him, looking at himself in the glass. There’s nothing else you can do but this, you realize; that’s what your life has come to. You are mingling with a curse and he could kill you in a moment if he wanted to--but right now, he wants you to draw him and paint him and put something monumentally distressing on the canvas. And you want to do these things--because he wants you to? Because you know the gallery owner is going to take one look at this last piece and ask you to open your own show? Love or ego or something awful and in-between?
You sketch quickly. It’s the final layers of painting that will take days, you think, if you want this to turn out right. Right now you’re worried about two things: capturing the tones while the light is just right, and how Mahito will react when you tell him you’re done after this.
It’s not like you can tell him now. He can’t even talk.
What is it like, without a mouth? You bring cigarettes to your lips and wonder if he feels jealous of it. Would he get mad, if you told him you needed a drink? A snack? Eating and drinking--curses can do these things, and you’ve seen Mahito do them, but you don’t know how much of it is a want or a need. It’s hard enough to tell the difference with a human.
If you had no mouth, what would you be? Your thoughts flit, briefly and then away again, to the blob. To its eyes. To the way it couldn’t stop moving and Mahito held it like a toy.
You don’t want to think about that.
It would feel wrong to talk while you work on this piece, you decide. Better to save it for when it’s finished. A few days, at most, with Mahito holed up in your bedroom--and no mouth at all.
In these few days, you want to kiss him more than ever. Want to capture the memory of his lips, because surely, he’ll want to leave if you’re done painting him. Done being entertaining.
The thought of kissing the awful, empty space where his mouth should be keeps you from even thinking about it.
--
It’s your masterpiece. You know this from the moment the last stroke is complete. You’ll never top this work, and some prideful part of you demands that you try, anyway.
Mahito still has no mouth. Even as you pull the drape off the canvas, as he gets close to inspect it.
“Mahito,” you say, suddenly. He doesn’t look at you. That’s better, you think. Makes it easier to stomach what will come next; the inevitable moment where Mahito drops you like an old toy. Usually it’s the other way around, an artist getting bored of its muse and flinging them aside.
But you’re not bored of Mahito. You’re afraid of him. You want him here--but you don’t. It’s a big jumbled mess and maybe it would have been easier if he never showed up on your back porch, if you never saw him at all, if he hadn’t opened up some wound inside you that only he can stitch up.
“Mahito,” you repeat. “I don’t think I can paint you anymore.” Stupid, weasel words. You cringe. “I mean. I don’t want to paint you anymore--after this one.”
Mahito tilts his head, and finally turns his eyes towards you--but still, there’s no mouth, no mouth, no mouth.
After a moment, you continue, mouth dry and sticking. “Did you hear me, I said I--”
Mahito’s hand slaps against your own, hushing you.
“Have you been wondering what it feels like?” It takes a few blearly, confusing moments for you to realize that Mahito is talking not with lips on his face, but on the hand that’s pressed over yours. “To be unable to speak?”
The awful thought hits you. Is your mouth even still there, under Mahito’s hand?
Mahito leans in, and pulls his hand away. Slowly, like he’s revealing a prize .
“I want to paint you now,” he murmurs. He might even be cooing, eyes alight at what he sees as he lifts his hand.
You want to answer him--you want to scream.
But you can’t say a word.
#yandere mahito#mahito x reader#yandere jjk#yandere#afterwitch writes#was the titanic reference necessary? yes. yes it was.
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So @milk-powrit asked me to draft why I didn't like GxK, to which I decide to oblige.
DISCLAIMER: Those are my personal opinions; of a fan of Monsterverse since 2014 and a nobody with any competence in analyzing media, save some common sense and maybe rudimentals??
Also I already hugely disliked Godzilla vs Kong so my discontent had a part in how I enjoyed the movie.
To conclude English is not my first langauge and even in my langauge, debate is not one of my strenght.
Spoilers alert; so skip or I kindly suggest to block the tag: Godzilla x Kong spoiler.
Let's start with the first thing: I don't enjoy how the tone of the movie shifted so drastically from Kotm to GvsK.
In this post, a youtube user explained better than me why the shifting tone felt like a downgrade. If in Godzilla (2014) Godzilla was introduced by hearing his foot stomping on the ground. It was heavy, massive, it reverbered on the glass of the airport. It felt natural, realistic. How a creature that BIG would move in the real world.
As the user said Realistic =/= Seriousness. Godzilla can be goofy. But Monsterverse!Goji was estabilished in a setting, that was the real world.
In both GvsK and in GxK Godzilla does not feels natural. Was necessary for Godzilla to evolve, to be more nimble, when already in GvsK was already moving in a way unnatural?
Or pulling the 0 gravity fight? What purpose had the evolution, if in the end it was not even necessary. Had really improved his fighting skills? They were the same, on earth and in the hollow earth.
2 reason: I've seen around posts about how media litteracy has gone bad; in some ways about people can no longer sospend their belief and calls anything a plot-hole.
But I think that one thing is suspending the belief but another is the director of the movie making the plot moving from point A to point B without telling the audience how.
For example: Suspension of belief: They had the Beast Glove ready to use, because Monarch was already working on it ✅
But why Jia is the chosen one of the day? How the Iwi in hollow earth knew of Skull island? How the shard to control Shimo works? Why Godzilla would respond to the distress call of the people who fought against him? Why Mothra has a connection to the iwi, in particular. Since in Kong: skull island there's no reference to her? How Jia flew back on Earth with Mothra, without dying for the gravitational pull?.
Not everything has to be the viewer's guess that's what I'm saying.
3 point: Shimo and Skar King are as much wasted potential as it was MechaGodzilla was in GvsK.
Skar is menacing yes, has the ability and dexterity of a formidable foe. He's vile and disgusting, oppressing his clan (let's call it that) and he's even an abusive father. All of these things: but as a villain he's really that dangerous?
He was introduced as this terrible tyrant, a danger to the world. And he wasn't even trying to go on Earth; he went up by accident basically. Because the Iwi had to play with gravity. Or should I believe him, forcing his subordinate moving rocks was to build a staircase to the upside?
And Shimo, sweet girl. She looks so horrible. Her white scales don't blend in for anything. Like she was photoshopped last minute. Her powers do damage I see. But her being presented as one or The first Titan do actually mean something to the plot, to the character? Or a simple red-herring to made her more interesting than she actually is?
Because at the end of the day SHE IS A PET!!
"Oh Kong now has found a mate, so cute". My brothers on earth, she goes on four, is used as a mount the all time and she kept panting the whole time. That's a pet, the old dog you have to force inside when it snows.
It was pretty disappointing.
Last but not least the reason I personally dislike Wingard take on the Monsterverse, which is the point you could probably throw away all my arguments, compelling or not because it's really a ME issue, who don't think no one'd agree and I don't blame anybody for it.
I HATE HOW WINGARD DECIDED TO PORTRAY GODZILLA.
I don't hold nothing over him for having Kong as his favorite. That's personal taste, I respect it.
But when it comes to at the expense of the other protagonist, it rubs me so in the wrong way.
On this point I don't know if I want to discuss it further, but boy I do have to complain on this topic.
To summarize I'm mad Godzilla doesn't get to have the same introspection and grace is allowed to Kong, knowing he can to (if you read the Dominion comic. But since they are only distributed in the US not many does. OR should care about it. Cause I'm first a supporter of the idea that if a media is not capable to give all the informations in like the Movie, you the audience should not have to pay for more. So basically the Novelitation are cool but also a scam)
That's all I had to say about it.
Hoping any of this uphere is comprehensible. If in the end I only sound like a rambling idiot I accept it. This movie is too stupid to be too mad about it.
I'll just ignore it
#the communication ends here#godzilla x kong: the new empire#godzilla#my reviews#I guess#i'm may be too critical but that's what it is#monsterverse#legendary pictures#godzilla 2014#legendary kong#godzilla x kong spoilers
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“(…)There was an American sitting behind Jane and me—such a romantic-looking man, with coal-black hair and eyes. Josie Pye says he is a distinguished artist, and that her mother’s cousin in Boston is married to a man that used to go to school with him. Well, we heard him say—didn’t we, Jane?—’Who is that girl on the platform with the splendid Titian hair? She has a face I should like to paint.’ There now, Anne. But what does Titian hair mean?”
— Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery
A(nother) modern AU (you know, the kind I loathe so wholly), except in place of an American painter, a ‘famous’ American photographer comes to the White Sands Hotel for this concert. After Anne’s moving Noyes ‘the Highwayman’ recital, he seeks her out and asks her if she’s ever been ‘shot’ before (he wants to, and he tells Marilla this is a paid gig when she scoffs)… his sunflower compliment is yes, of course, about her Titan hair, but he also adds that her face is ‘high fashion/old money’ – which gets an unexpected ironic laugh from the orphan of two very poor teachers. The payment associated with Anne being photographed is too generous to sensibly say no to, even if Marilla is worried of the impact on Anne’s vanity, and two months afterwards, Anne is offered a contract with one of the biggest agencies in the States… Ford (😅) models. Over the next four years, her success grants her all the necessary funds for a B.A. from Redmond… without relying on burdening Marilla’s ‘slim purse.’
"Red hair is very fashionable now," said Anne, trying to smile, but speaking rather coldly. Life had developed in her a sense of humor which helped her over many difficulties; but as yet nothing had availed to steel her against a reference to her hair.
"So it is--so it is," conceded Mrs. Harmon. "There's no telling what queer freaks fashion will take.”
— Anne of the Island, Lucy Maud Montgomery
#mrs rachel is sure it’s a ‘scam’#at first anyway#later she might take on a near momager role that stands so firm even kris jenner couldn’t withstand#josie doesn’t think it’s ‘christian or respectable’ to make money this way#‘no one born and bred in avonlea’ would ever consider being a big city model#the making of a crack fic
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The New Titans #61 (my thoughts)
I love this image so much. I like how Tim's arms are the only part of him visible, he is literally holding up Robin away from himself and towards Nightwing
I hate how Dick keeps getting put in these situations where he's given the responsibility for Bruce's actions and feelings, even if unintentionally. Tim makes it Dick's responsibility that Bruce is off the rails, because it should be Dick grounding him as Robin even though he's his own man dealing with his own grief. Alfred highlights how losing Robin a second time hurt Bruce, even though Bruce fired Dick and no one has the right to ask Dick to stay stagnant forever.
Once again, Tim is VERY bullheaded and insensitive. He cares so much it won't all fit in his chest but he has no idea how to be delicate when it comes to feelings.
Oh buddy, you don't even know
Alfred warmed up to Tim SO fast. Maybe it's the father in him, seeing a crying boy that looks way too much like the three he had a hand in raising. Alfred isn't a very physical man, he's known Tim for maybe half an hour, and Tim knowing the secret puts his family in jeopardy. But Alfred puts a hand on his shoulder, tries to reassure him, and gently leads him back to the manor.
Yet another person Bruce has had in his corner all along that he refuses to lean on. Also the reminder of just how few people know about Jason. Gordon is frequently referred to as Batman's best friend, and he doesn't know that Robin died, only that something's different
bitchy alfred <3<3<3<3<3
brucie babygurl, just call your son like a normal man
Alfred made him a sandwich <3
the mental illness of these men
He's learning!!!!! everybody clap!
he's not learning :( stop clapping
This highlights another fanon mischaracterization that grinds my gears. Yes, batman WAS being a little rougher than strictly necessary, but the recklessness was mostly in regards to HIMSELF. When Batman was grieving, before Tim, he was putting HIMSELF in danger. Bruce has very little regard for his own life and his self-preservation goes out the window when he loses Jason
worried dad <3
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Just read FGO Götterdämmerung
Aka the Otome Lostbelt as I read somewhere
Also apparently the Attack on Titan Lostbelt.
I said "just read" but in reality it's been like 3-4 months. I didnt have time to put all my thoughts together and I needed a lot of it to actually form any thought lol.
Up till now I've refrained to comment on the Gotterdammerung story that I've never actually read. So now that I've read it myself, now I understand why many think this lostbelt's story is rather weak. I honestly think it's weaker than its predecessor, LB1.
A long time ago, I theorized that Lostbelts stories will explore about love and different aspects of it. While most of my theories are proven wrong, for a lostbelt that specifically does have love as its central theme, I feel like it could have been...more.
Or more accurately, LB2 feels like it bites more than it can chew.
The LB talks about so many love, be it motherly love, romantic love, sisterly love, friendship love, even godly love. Yet in my personal opinion, only the sisterly and friendship love deal a huge impact on me.
Idk why, but even Scathach-skadi's motherly love (the kind of love that's a sure fire way to make me cry) while mentioned over and over again, it just fall flat to me. Only at the end of the story do I feel sorry for her. I feel like I was more heartbroken when I read her chapter in Nakatani-sensei's From Lostbelt manga.
I was also waiting for someone to mention "Gods can't love humans" (Ahem, Noragami reference here), pointing out how she maintains her world by sacrificing 15 years olds and 25 years olds to be eaten Attack-on-Titan style. Even though she has no choice but to do so, and the reason she maintains the world in the first place is because she loves everything in it, does her love justify the means? Isn't the only one who can do something like that someone -something- not humane? Is that what differs God's love to Human's love? Is that even "love"? I was hoping it'd be at least discussed even though we all know she really would not do it if there was any other way.
Ophelia muttering how she shouldn't think about love and can't fail like Kadoc, implying her train of thought being Kadoc's downfall was caused by the love between him and Anatasia, and turns out love saves her lostbelt and becomes her salvation as well as Kadoc's. Oh poetic cinema.
I kept thinking to myself "does the love triangle (quadruple?) necessary for this chapter?" and after awhile, I came to my own conclusion: yes and no.
Yes for Surtr -> Ophelia and Ophelia -> Wodime. No for Napoleon -> Ophelia.
This is not a "What if asshole boy A falls in love with girl B but chooses to be mean to her out of emotional problems and 1000 other reasons." This is a "What if boy A is literally made, knowing, and capable of one and only one thing: destroy the world, and he falls in love with girl B?" Surtr is exactly written with that concept. Ngl I think that's a good logical outcome that he ends up like this: Showing his love to Ophelia by destroying the world harder.
Although he sure is mean. Odin didn't forget to give him nasty personality befitting the "villain" of the world lol.
I can't deny, a meeting at the end of the world destroyed the same way is rather romantic, if I may say so.
As for Wodime, I do believe that romantic love can drive someone to undergo a great change, positive or negative. For Ophelia who has always remained stagnant, her feelings for Wodime becomes her drive for many things she does. Halfheartedly or not, cowardly or not, she pushes herself forward, she makes decisions on her own, whether that is a wrong way or not. And ngl if I was in Ophelia's shoes and saw what she saw when they were all dead, I think I'd fall at least a little with Wodime too lmao.
As much as I love Napoleon's vibe and bravado, I don't get why he falls in love with Ophelia. I don't think the explanation that this Heroic Spirit Napoleon will always search for someone to love in his incarnation is enough to justify it. Not even the "he thinks she's asking for help" thing, that could be written as a non romantic motive and still works just as well to show how heroic and good-natured Napoleon is. There is no reason why it is a romantic love. I know love sometimes has no logic or reasoning but usually a party has to DO something that personally MOVES the heart of the other party.
But I admit Napoleon and Surtr immediately trash-talking each other as love rival is funny.
Besides that, Napoleon is amusing and great buddy. And the scene with his trump card ... Truly a hope bringer, befitting the title Good Fellow of Everlasting Flame.
Ophelia's genuine feeling for Mash is very interesting actually. I understand her POV of wanting to befriend Mash because there are few girls in Team A (and Akuta is very aloof). How she wanted to befriend Mash yet couldn't close the distance but still tried to anyway, and said feeling still exists even now that it actually stops her from going all out because she couldn't bear hurting Mash and truly treasures her. I feel like it wasnt enough for them to really be tight friends, but if only they had more time, they really could have been such :''
And Ophelia regarding Fujimaru with high respect as their Senpai is pretty heartwarming to me. No wonder in Lostbelt no. 5..... ah...
Sigurd: I've been tricked and taken advantage again I'm a sorry excuse of a hero. Brynhildr: No you're not. Me: Well I actually agree with him on this one but sure whatever u say Mrs Wife
I've been screaming about Sigurd/Brynhildr in this chapter ever since this chapter was out and I will scream it harder now. Even if my teeth rot because the sheer diabetes their interaction gives.
Once, I wondered if Sigurd was an asshole because of what happened to Brynhildr. After Gotterdammerung is out, he's literally best husband he'd die for Bryn but he'd also survive her love-translated-into-murder to prove he loves her. How much he loves his wife and loves to declare it is actually starting to be embarassing, even for Brynhildr lmao.
Giving Sigurd (and by extension Surtr) the voice of THE Tsuda Kenjirou is one of the best decision Type Moon ever makes.
Brynhildr's flashback of her rampage gives me so much chill even though there are no visuals of it. So much that I made a fanart of it. That she might have murdered children and women in blind fury, even though earlier in the chapter she is shown to be great with children and The Model Valkyrie herself just makes a great juxtaposition to show how much love -and being human instead of divinity- steers her to deep end.
The reenactment of her myth (sleeping in the castle surrounded by fire) but this time there is no prince (Sigurd) waking her up but she wakes up and saves herself and others is nice.
Brynhildr and the her sisters interaction is also great. The valkyrie's (I assume it's mainly Ortlinde's POV but really it could be anyone in the group?) lamentation of the past, how Bryn changes from the gentle ice to harsh fire, how they all both feared and envied how much she could change after gaining a human heart, and how they end up gaining that very same heart, it's so tragic yet satisfying as it comes full circle with Thrud and Hildr committing suicide out of broken love just like Bryn did in her myth. Ortlinde freaking out and later coming to terms with everything and choose to fight for what she believes is also in line with them as automata gaining a heart.
Oh and I like the Icy Fire concept here, both literally (the world is covered in fire overlaying Scathach-Skadi's snow, and what happens to Surtr later) and metaphorically (how love can make someone's emotion running wild as cold as ice and as hot as fire)
I DIDNT KNOW, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS IN GERDA'S ART FROM ROAD TO LOSTBELT 7 :'''''''''' That scene is so sad yet so beautiful...
Gerda is basically an innocent child character to be protected. Yet her innocence is also what makes it unsettling that she believes whole-heartedly about the Ordained Day and the short lifespan the people have. Goredolf's rant about how could she, and everyone in her lostbelt, can be okay with any of that, while purely an emotional outburst that's like getting angry at a child who knows no better, raises many points and chilingly resonates well with the concern of the Chaldea members.
I like how Sitonai appears, but I wish she can appear more. The name Illya just brings so much memories... And she even appears with a mother in the form of Scathach-Skadi, just like the original Illya with Iri. It's funny tho that Sitonai is understandably a bit cranky and cheeky with Skadi, unlike Illya-Iri pure doting relationship. Yet the bit where Sitonai ends up missing Skadi just as the Lostbelt disappears is pretty nice.
*snorts* This wouldn't get this long if Holmes just spits out who the hell this Sigurd really is.
Oh, the scene where Surtr breaks out of his prison is scary. Imagine something gigantic comes out of the sun in broad daylight…
And of course the Mystic Eye scene is one of the pinnacle of this chapter. Truly a culmination of Ophelia's development. The voiced version from Flashback Lostbelt no.1-5 MV is even better.
To be able to create 3 spin-off chapters of this lostbelt and deep dive into the psych of each character... Now I understand how much power Nakatani-sensei has.
Napoleon: "Keep moving as long as you still draw breath. You're never completely out of possibilities. There's always something you can do." Everyone in the vicinity:
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FusionFall Headcanons: Ghoulish Growths
According to concept art, these canopied creeps can stand up to a daunting fifteen meters, making them one of the largest fusion monsters to roam across the planet. Their description explains that fusion matter infecting the soil contributed to their rapid growth as well as their deformations. Said concept art might refer to these creatures as "Crazy Guardian Ents," but they are a far-cry from the protective forestdwellers you've heard about in stories.
Due to their massive size, these fusion monsters are the biggest threat to the KND Jungle Outpost and the main reason for the strong defenses surrounding it. The high slope and walls are necessary to help prevent the Ghoulish Growths from breaking in, with cannons doing far more damage than even a team of fusion fighters can manage against one of these foes. As such, guard duty is taken very seriously there and any soldier stationed at the Jungle Outpost is likely to have experience manning its heavy artillery. Since they will literary root themselves into the wall to keep from being forced back down, it's as difficult a task as it is an important one. If the Ghoulish Growths did reach the top of the base or actually managed to break in, the damage they'd cause would be severe. Moreover, since the base is so far out in the Wilds, it would also be harder to recover from such an attack as gathering resources would take more time.
While fusion spawns likely could've taken over some of the older, more mature, and much larger trees that exist within the Wilds, Fuse probably settled on younger ones for one simple reason: Mobility. Yes, having that kind of titan of a fusion monster in the Wilds would've been advantageous in some respects, but the original tree's roots would be so deeply burrowed into the earth that it would be a miracle if it could remove itself from the ground. Besides that, the branches of younger trees are more flexible. Taking them over at a young age would make the resulting monster naturally nimbler overall, as well as give them a better chance of warping the body into whatever shape was desired successfully prior to its accelerated growth. There might be a handful of those massive, older trees possessed by fusion spawns somewhere, existing in the same vein as mini bosses in the game do, but they'll be stationary. In extension to this, you won't really see Ghoulish Growths in colder climates for the same reason. Branches as more likely to get become brittle and take more damage, so they'll typically only stay wherever it's warm.
This is a direct contrast to the Timber Terrors, which are made from smaller and much older trees. As mentioned when covering them, their fossilized wood provided some defense against fusion matter's poisonous effects as the spawns possessed them. (It's hard to kill what's already dead.) Ghoulish Growths may have better mobility, but lack that same protection and typically have an even shorter lifespan as a result, their bodies collapsing on themselves over time even with fusion matter corrupting them more than killing them. Like the Timber Terrors, the longest lasting Ghoulish Growths are those whose makeup have been fully and successfully twisted by fusion matter, making it more like the alien flora we see in Hero's Hollow.
Other distinguishing features for these monsters are their three faces and elongated "fingers." While their heads are pressed into the trunk of the trees, meaning they have to turn their whole body to see around them, the extra sets of eyes do allow for greater visibility. If you aren't attacking them from directly behind, it can be harder to find a blind spot than you'd think. Their long, slender fingers are even more nimble than the rest of their form, and it's typical for them to completely bind their targets in a firm hold before squeezing the life out of them.
As one might imagine, literally being a tree makes their camouflage almost perfect, their ambush tactics second to none. Many a soldier have wandered through the forest only to learn of a Ghoulish Growth looming over them all too late. Wildlife has also suffered greatly, with animals sometimes approaching the still monsters unaware. Over time, as the forests' natural populations began to recognize the threat, they developed keener senses to avoid them, so keeping an eye on what trees animals act nervous around or actively avoid is a good way to keep yourself safe as well. Furthermore, it's much easier to spot these monsters at night, as the fusion matter coursing through them can't be hidden. Some of the smarter ones have tried using moss to cover this, to limited success.
The revealed sections of fusion matter warping through the wood are also their biggest weak spots. There, they have already likely taken sufficient damage from the inside-out. Turn those corroding, hollow areas into craters by attacking them directly.
While a little unorthodox and not without risk, another strategy would be if you managed to leap into a Ghoulish Growth's canopy and attack from there. It won't be an easy ride, but their topmost branches don't act as limbs and can instead be used for cover: Yes, they can still reach up to grab you, but it'll be harder with the branches shielding you and their limited visibility. For them, it would be like trying to pluck off a tick hidden in a thick mass of hair.
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favorite moments from my first production
i got to be a stagehand + hair/makeup artist (and more) for a local production of Dial M for Murder, it was the first production i've had the privilege of working on, and of course i have many stories from backstage
spoilers for Dial M!! yes its a play from 1954 what's your point
synopsis: Margot Wendice had an affair with american tv writer Max Halliday. after discovering this Tony Wendice blackmails his old college schoolmate into murdering his wife. this goes wrong and he ends up dying instead. shes blamed for murder instead of self defence. Detective Hubbard ends up solving the case in the end, just before Margot meets her demise
for privacy i will be refering to the actors by their character names
Detective Williams
Williams' mic didnt work until the last 3 shows. he only has like 2 lines so it wasn't super noticeable. he did mic check, and then would shut his mic off until his scene, disconnecting it.
Williams forgot that our last performance was a sunday matinee, and only showed up like minutes before curtain (call time was 12:30, go at 2pm. he showed up at like 1:55) fortunately his character doesnt show up until late in act 2 but still. he def missed the cast picture
he was so excited to see what outfit id wear every day, it was so cute (i dress in vintage inspired clothes like every day)
he was watching youtube in the green room at full blast on preview night, which the audience heard
The Cops, O'Brian and Barkley
O'Brian (28) trying to hit on me (20) for my first week (ew?). but he apologized if he made me uncomfortable on closing day so thats chill of him
Barkley giving me a laugh report after any of his bits
Barkley giving everyone scripts he wrote for the sequel after closing (starring him as the lead, of course)
Barkley thanking me for fixing his jacket and tie everytime he went out on stage
me and O'Brian debating musical theater in the green room every show
Barkley forgetting he needs to take the body away with O'Brian during our one and only tryout show, which had O'Brian having to improvise how to get the body offstage by himself
Barkley and O'Brian unable to carry off the body during the final rehearsal, so instead the director came up with a magic disappearing act for the body that they had to learn opening night
(about the titanic (1997) musical) Me: it was horrible O'Brian: didn't it win the tony? Me: yes. it shouldn't have
Detective Hubbard
the Jacket Fiasco. ok so Hubbard, Halliday, and Tony Wendice all have nearly identical jackets (its a plot point). But, Hubbard's jacket had his key in it, which he needs for a scene. on opening night the stagehand on stage left accidentally gave his jacket to Tony. Hubbard became flustered after not being able to find his jacket, and started whisper yelling at me and the other stagehand on stage right (where the fuck is my jacket etc etc). he then went onstage and forgot most of his lines due to being flustered. he accidentally cut Williams lines in the process, which Williams was pissed about. the other SR stagehand didn't talk to Hubbard unless necessary after that.
i was in charge of personal props, so i would typically get the blackmail letters from Hubbard before the show (Margot needs them at the top of the show and they are given to Hubbard in act 2) so this conversation took place every show "do you have my blackmail" "yes i do, stop blackmailing me!! i refuse to pay"
him constantly being confused by the writers decisions "why does the script call for 6 dials? the actual number back then was 7 dials" "but my british dad said blah blah blah"
bonding at the afterparty over the SR stagehand (more on her later)
thinking im talking about the play instead of the musical, and then being surprised that a muscial verison exists (multiple times)
Captain Lesgate/C.A. Swann
Lesgate has 2 coats, one normal one, and one with a safety pack for the stabbing scene. the final act one rehearsal, lesgate enters the apartment, hangs up his normal jacket, continues the scene. he then leaves to get ready for the murder forgetting his normal jacket in the apartment. when i reminded him he was like "no my jacket is here :)" *points to murder jacket*
Lesgate having to reherse the murder and dying alone because Margot didnt show up to rehearsal because of a bomb threat in her area
Lesgate, O'brian and I bonding over the Lea Michelle + Johnathan Groff Desk Lamp Incident (iykyk)
discussing Trisha Paytas
shouting "SUCKING DICK AND COCK" during the 2 day show lunch and you did it at my birthday dinner!
discussing male porn stars at the 2 day show lunch
him rooting for me to shoot my shot with a boy that works in the box office
the director had a trip after opening, and didnt come back until closing. when she did, Lesgate had to tell her all of the box office boy tea. "ooh backstage + box office relationships?? Spicy" - the director
"if you dont date box office boy, i will. he is so fucking hot. i approve 😌"
discussing disney fast pass history
signing left over stabbing pads for each other on the last show
him almost forgetting the murder weapon before going on
him trying to "strangle" margot with the scarf, and missing, during the murder scene
the lighting team messing up a light que and having Lesgate and Tony both turing to me going "THEY FUCKED UP THE LIGHT QUE"
Max Halliday
us having mini dance parties in between his scenes
i made multiple doodles of him dancing while saying his most tragic lines. i gave him the best ones on closing
🎶✨🕺🏼🎶She's being Hanged Tomorrow!!🎶🕺🏼✨🎶
him being the only one in the show without an accent, and being the only one backstage who loves doing accents
him singing the WAP in his Christopher Walken voice
him saying a bunch of his lines in a jack sparrow voice
reciting shakespear in his Christopher Walken voice
i have a bunch of allergies and blood sugar issues, so i would bring homemade eggrolls and share them with him. closing night i gave him the recipe
never forgetting a line until the second to last performace, and then forgetting like 1/2 his lines in act 2. "ive never done that before... my soul left my body..."
bonding over being ancient theater history nerds
him being invested in the publix boy saga (you don't wanna know)
him never knowing where his hankerchief was and me bugging him about it every day? iconic. (he left it onstage one night)
me and Max changed our hair the same day, Tony remarked on Max's hair, and both Max and i said "oh thanks! oh you changed your hair too!"
Margot Wendice
i got very good at doing vintage styles on other people while helping Margot, who could not for the life of her figure out how to pin in a pincurl (no shade, its hard to learn initially)
babes had 2 quick changes, one of which i helped with. we got that one done so quick i should win an award
margot also approves of box office boy
the sound crew messed up a sound que for her. she went to turn off the raido and it didnt turn off until she had almost walked to the bar. oops.
at intermission i would do her hair again, in a bun this time, and i would bruise her neck where she was strangled. now i can add bruise makeup to my resume
she also got a signed stab pack at closing
a few times she completely chucked the prop scissors too far, and couldnt find them to stab Lesgate. he ended up dying without a stab wound a few times. the first time this happened poor baby almost had a panic attack :( she then changed to grabbing the scissors and dropping them closer to the floor during the struggle instead of swiping them off the desk, making the stab part less worrisome for her
one time she stabbed Lesgate so hard she almost went through the stab pack
her entire swim team came to surprise her during our closing weekend, as did most of her friends, family, and fiancé. 1/2 of this group also came to see her opening night! we stan a supportive squad
she took pictures of me in my lil black outfit onstage, and hyped me up which was super sweet
her zipper broke on one costume twice, both times the costumer was not in the building. first time i pinned her into that dress, second we ended up fixing the zipper in time
her fiance wanted her to steal the zipper dress (it was really cute, i dont blame her) so at the after party she said that and i was like "good luck getting it zipped up" and she was like "ikr"
one patron came backstage to ask where the bathroom was, margot then had to show her where right before we went into places
me and Lesgate had to explain to Margot what a twink is during the 2 show day lunch
Tony Wendice
Tony Wendice has the most lines (he has like 2 very long monolouges or something crazy like that), and he didnt have them memorized until our preview (3 days before opening). im so proud/impressed that he got all of that memorized in time
i drink rootbeer to help with my chronic breathing issues (idk why but it just works for me) so every time Tony would be like "0mG dRinKiNG 0n tHe J0b?!?" Max did it a few times too.
during the last scene Margots purse exits SR, goes to the phone loft on SR, and then needs to get to Tony on SL, so i was in charge of running the purse in da tunnel. opening night, another stagehand said he looked stressed that i hadnt delivered the purse yet (the phone call hadn't happened yet), so i asked him about if after, got it all worked out. after that he would always do an exagerated *phew* it was super funny. i gave him a cartoon of it one of the nights, and he had to show everyone backstage
during the second act he puts 50 1p notes in his pocket, which i need back in the morning. everyday i would pester him for 50p when returning his personal props. last performance i gave him an extra set of prop tickets with "you owe me 50p" written on the back
me and him bonded over our shared hatred for lil orphan annie
Tony lost a tie one night. Max said "oh i have a spare!" and then came back with Tony's lost tie
Tony lost a prop newspaper article during rehearsals. we got him backups, it was all good. after the last performace i found the lost article
Tony got hot mic'd!!! we were in a blackout about to go to intermission, most if not all actors were in the green room, but the booth forgot to shut off mics. so we just hear "Margot! how was the murder??"
closing night i told Tony "break a leg! i hope your wife dies tonight!" and he said "me too!"
various stories
i quickly became known as the vintage expert, since i dress retro. multiple times i was asked if i was in the show. once i was setting props and the sound tech and set designer were like "she looks like she could be in the show!! its so cool!!"
no one belived me when i said this was my first production. everyone thought i was a seasoned professional. this keeps happening. sorry guys, im not a professional, just autistic
i also started to gain a reputation for falling. basically i fall over a lot, health issue blah blah. anyways, my second day, i slipped and slammed into the side of the stage, knocking over a script stand. everyone then joked any time i got near anything "not to fall" for the rest of the week. it was a good lil goof
we took a break over one weekend, cuz of a street festival happening nearby, making access to the theater nearly impossible; over that weekend i had a skateboard accident, breaking my pinky finger and skinning my knee and elbow. i came back to the theater monday all bandaged up. this did not help my reputation of falling
the next week, box office boy came to admire the set, and me and him were talking and catching up (we met at guys and dolls, and he helped me avoid anaphylatic shock). anyways, while chatting i tripped and fell on stage. the rest of the day 3 people said "yeah we saw you fall onstage" this was also the start of the box office boy rumors backstage
the sound tech said "yeah i was like whos on stage? and then you fell and i was like, oh its just (my name)"
i got a physical migrane one of the days (a migraine in the nervous system, making the nerves hyperactive. it feels like youre on fire and everything you touch is itchy. basically living hell) and i did not have any of my fixes! and i couldnt fix it until i got home (which wouldve been like 2 hours later) the next day i brought my fixes, labeled them, and stuck them in the staff fridge. fortuantely didnt need them again.
me and the sound tech bonding over both wearing vintage + swapping brand recs
3 days before opening the set was not even close to being ready. like at all so i showed up at 12:30 to help. my call time was not until 6:30, but dammit this set is getting done so im here early. i was at the theater from 12:30pm-almost 11pm. i helped paint, upholster, decorate, stapled the stair carpet, clean out the box office, clean up/get the theater ready for that nights preview, mend costumes etc etc. i got to meet a lot of cool people, and i got a ton of street credit at the theater. the set designer said i was the most helpful person he's ever worked with. we got the set completed opening night.
our set is most likely to win best set of the season at the the theaters lil yearly award show!
because i was there early that day, i got in the opening night thank you speech twice!! once in crew, and once in carpenters. i was only credited once in the program, but that was because they were printed before i helped out lmao. but hey, im in a program!!
the theater was short on ushers 2 times, so they pulled me from SR and one of the light techs until 5 till. the stage manager was like "im going to regret this but heres the situation. who wants to be an usher" so i volunteered. she said "i knew you would. i already told the box office you would. i figured it would be best since they already know you" (since i helped that once day). at this point i should start packing the usher uniform in my go bag
the girl on SR. ok so we had 3 Stagehands total, one girl on SL and me and another girl on SR. she did not show up one of the shows (the first show i had to usher) she wanted to enter the film industry through being a stagehand, despite knowing nothung about theater...bold move but ok. her backup career was becoming a cop. she really did not fit in the theater. she was constantly stressed out about how much we had to do and how much everything changed. she was constantly was suprised how different film was to theater. she would also tell me im doing stuff wrong, despite not knowing how the theater works, and me doing the stuff i was instructed. i wanted to slap her so many times
SL girl was a snowbird. she normally lives in chicago, but lives here in florida for the winter. back in chicago shes a producer. i had to hear sooo many times "but thats not how we do it in Chicago" bitch, shut up. also she was practically forcing me to agree go to college for theater. nah fam im not dropping 40k for something i could learn/do for free. "but at my amature theater in chicago everyone has a degree" good for them. im not spending that much to be involved at an amature theater in chicago. her favorite musical is South Pacific so that should tell you everything you need to know.
we had lots of "liquor" on the bar (ice tea and water). every night we struck the tea to put in the fridge. no one drank the water so it didnt need to be struck. one night SL girl took the water down to the fridge anyways. i said "hey we dont do that" and she said "idc im doing it anyway" she got yelled at the next day. next week, SR girl does the same thing. i said "hey we dont do that". she said "idc im doing anyways". i said "ok, but dont get mad at me when you get yelled at". she got yelled at before she made it to the fridge. SR girl didn't talk to me for 2 days after.
i got to do sound check for the god mic!
since me and the set designer are friends he set up a lil light just for me so i could draw when i wasnt working backstage. i didnt ask him to so he just did it. what an icon
everyone signed a poster i made, and the director and the asst. director both wrote me notes about how much they loved my enthusiasm and that they think im going to have a successful career.
during the first few off book run throughs, when the stage manager had to leave, i was appointed as asst. to the stage manager. so i got to feed lines on like my first day
we're a hit!!! our show got a smashing review from a local art publication, so we had completly sold out shows for the entirety of our extremely limited run. the creative director thought about extending our run, but that would've interfered with the next production so we couldn't.
the stage manager let me keep a ton of paper props on the last day
the stage manager would always brag/advocate for me to the creative director. so he ended up asking me to come back for the next production! this time as an set artist, prop artist, and a stagehand! probably some more stuff, we're going to discuss it further at the staff meeting this week
starting this week, im starting work on Newsies. goodbye Dial M, hello Newsboys!
#dial m for murder#play#local theater#theater#theatre#backstage#cast and crew#stagehand#babys first#my first show#stories#backstage drama#theater experience
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Writing About Your Data:
Titanic dataset
The data set was downloaded from kaggle. (https://www.kaggle.com/competitions/titanic/overview)
Step 1: Describe Your Sample
a) Study Population: The study population consists of passengers who were aboard the RMS Titanic during its maiden voyage in April 1912.
b) Level of Analysis: The level of analysis is individual, as each observation in the dataset represents a single passenger.
c) Number of Observations: The Titanic dataset contains information about 891 passengers.
d) Data Analytic Sample: The data analytic sample refers to the subset of passengers from the Titanic dataset that we are using for our analyses. In this case, it includes all 891 passengers.
Step 2: Describe the Procedures Used to Collect the Data
a) Study Design: The data were collected through historical records and passenger manifests.
b) Original Purpose: The original purpose of the data collection was to record information about passengers aboard the Titanic.
c) Data Collection: Information about passengers was gathered from various sources, including passenger manifests, historical records, and survivor accounts.
d) Collection Time: The data were collected during and after the Titanic disaster, which occurred on April 15, 1912.
e) Collection Location: The data were collected from various sources, including Titanic passenger manifests and historical records from the time period.
Step 3: Describe Your Variables
a) Explanatory and Response Variables:
Explanatory variables include 'Pclass', 'Sex', 'Age', 'SibSp', 'Parch', 'Fare', 'Cabin', and 'Embarked'.
The response variable is 'Survived', which indicates whether a passenger survived the Titanic disaster or not.
b) Response Scales:
'Survived': Binary scale (0 = No, 1 = Yes).
'Pclass': Ordinal scale (1st, 2nd, 3rd).
'Sex': Nominal scale (Male, Female).
'Age', 'SibSp', 'Parch', 'Fare': Continuous scale.
'Cabin', 'Embarked': Nominal scale.
c) Management of Variables:
Missing values in 'Age', 'Embarked', and 'Cabin' were filled or imputed.
Categorical variables like 'Sex' and 'Embarked' were encoded into numerical format using one-hot encoding.
Feature engineering was performed to create new variables like 'FamilySize' and extract titles from passenger names.
Outliers in numerical variables were identified and treated using appropriate methods.
Continuous variables were standardized or normalized if necessary for certain analyses.
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SOLAR NOON ┊ NISHINOYA YUU
synopsis: in the efforts to run from your own self worth and the mundaneness permeating your everyday life, you meet a man that might just set you free.
tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, strangers to lovers, holiday romance (heavy on the romance), mild language barrier (Noya’s basic English is pretty good; brief uses of Japanese), sexual tension, reader is having a bit of an existential crisis, no reference to readers height, vaginal oral sex (reader receiving), protected (vaginal) sex, awkward sex mishaps, use of sex toy (vibrator; reader receiving)
wc: 9k
a fic (that got a little out of hand plot-wise) for @spacelabrathor and @titan-fodder's better than fiction collab. thank you for letting me participate, I can’t wait to read everyone’s work!
The first step out of the plane onto the stairway is always overwhelming, a welcome wall of hot air hitting your body. You had tried to dress appropriately ahead of time, already in loose fitted pants and a vest top, yet you still feel the material cling uncomfortably on your skin.
There isn’t a cloud to be seen; the sky, a vast blanket of blue that connects seamlessly with that of the ocean in the far off distance. As you step onto the tarmac you feel heat pooling through the soles of your shoes, and let yourself smile.
Being alone in another country was frightening and came with a lot of risk, as does anything in life. But there was something comforting about the blank slate it offers you — no one knows you here, the pressure to mask or conform for the sake of others is no longer held over you.
Security, necessary as it is, would always be the most uncomfortable part of the journey. Once given the go ahead you make your way deeper into the airport. The cool air circulating throughout the building at least provides you some relief from the heat as you follow behind a line of other passengers to the conveyor belts.
Your eyes are drawn to a young man standing close by the first curve of the belt, rocking his weight back and forth onto the balls of his feet as he leans forward each time a new suitcase appears through the curtains. He’s shorter than average, but broad, and appears to be around your age. The cutoff sleeves of his t-shirt have been rolled up even higher to sit atop his shoulders, displaying his toned biceps and the obvious tan line that begins where his sleeves should sit. When his head turns to follow the appearance of another plain looking suitcase, as if to double check it weren’t his, you see the blonde curl hanging through the buckle of his backwards cap.
Cute.
Anticipation grows as evermore baggage leaves the mouth of the conveyor and you inch closer as you spot your own finally taking its place on the belt. Focused only on retrieving it, glaring anxiously as other holiday goers crouch to check the name attached to the handle, you don’t notice the man's approach.
“Kore des— Is this yours?”
You startle slightly at his voice, the accent thick but he stresses each word as if to dull it. He bends forward to pick the suitcase up from the belt before it continues by your shins, distracted by his interruption, and now by the flex of his arms as he lifts the baggage.
“Yes, it’s…” you flip the tags to double check, exhaling at the familiar handwriting, “…it’s mine. Thank you”.
By his feet sits a large duffel bag, presumably his own luggage. He beams, rubbing nervously at the nape of his neck with one hand and holding out the other.
“My name is Yuu,” he says as you return the handshake, resolutely ignoring the brush of his index finger against the soft skin of your wrist. Your lips part to reply, but you are silenced by the ring of an alarm and the echoing voice of an English woman announcing that the transfer coach for your hotel is now boarding.
Yuu seems to perk up at the hotel name, his pupils tracking your hasty movements as you pull up the trolley handle of your case. “Yours too?” He grins, shucking the strap of his bag over his shoulder, unperturbed by the weight.
“Yes, I think so,” you reply as you start towards the exit, anxiety simmering beneath your chest at the thought of missing the bus. Yuu seems to hold no such concern, fingers curling into a victorious fist.
“Race you!” he calls, speeding ahead with his duffle bouncing against his back with each stride.
Yuu was handsome, undeniably so. His eyes had been bright and genuine, his smile lifting the blossoming swell of his cheeks, so unashamed in his pursuit of your companionship. And yet it didn’t come across as forceful or unsettling, you felt drawn in by him. Despite his short stature he appeared larger than life, and instinct told you that this meeting held the possibility of making your trip unforgettable.
So you exhale an incredulous breath of laughter, dipole strengthening as his figure grows distant, heart palpitating in excitement. Quietly thankful for the four rotating wheels on your suitcase, you begin to run in the same direction.
He beats you, as expected of his head start, and once you finally pile onto the bus there’s a twinge of disappointment at the realisation that you do not have the choice to sit with him. Most of the seats are already taken.
You resign yourself to sitting beside an older woman in the back, passing Yuu’s row as you go, and biting back a grin as he pouts at you desperately. Though you couldn’t take the window seat there was still plenty to be seen; Sardinia was even more beautiful than you’d anticipated, more beautiful than any picture could capture. The island is mountainous, enshrouded in green and ringed by beaches, a colourful city built into the curve of the valley.
Though the island is big, the journey feels short. The hotel itself is more so a series of apartments, nestled right on the coastline. You lose sight of Yuu at some point between arrival and check in as you are swept into a small group of people sharing the other apartments on your assigned floor.
With one hand curled around the handle of your luggage and a large key card in the other you step into the small flat. The space is narrow, lacking the openness that you find typical for studio apartments. Every room is notably separate but similarly decorated, off white walls and orange patterned tile beneath your feet, most of the natural light is flooding in from the wide balcony doors.
This would be home for the week. Such a stark contrast to everything you’re used to. It felt like somewhere you would only come to sleep, as if the architects knew that most of your time should be spent appreciating the island.
Your phone chimes, startling you into the present. The device burns a hole in your pocket, weighted with all the problems you were dutifully ignoring, and all the friends you were pushing away.
Life had crept up on you, an unsuspecting frog in a pot of water, slowly bringing you to a boil. Wake, eat, work, eat, shower and sleep; every day looked the same, endless hours spent labouring and retiring to your dingy flat as the clock struck 5pm.
Running wasn’t the best long term solution, that much you knew, but you needed time to think.
All around you, the people you loved were moving forward with their lives, falling in love and accepting promotions and having children. You felt stagnant. There must be more to life than this, you’d thought. There must be something only you can do, someone only you can be. And maybe, to find that person, you simply needed a change of scenery.
And yet as you unlatch the balcony door and step out into the evening Sardinian heat, you cannot help but realise that no matter where you ran, you would always be yourself.
Even in a place as beautiful as this, there’s the temptation to stay locked up in your room. But you will yourself to go back downstairs towards the lobby, which is much emptier now that the guests have been assigned to their rooms. Your feet take you towards the restaurant, slightly abuzz given the time, the gentle warmth of the sun blowing in through the wide open doors that lead to the pool area. The bar is nestled just outside of those doors, surrounded by various occupied tables and chairs, dotted by bright teal and sunflower yellows parasols.
The surface of the bar is warm against your forearms, having soaked up the summer heat. The bartender grins widely, deepening the crows feet by his eyes, the sincere friendliness disarming you.
“Buonasera,” he nods in greeting, “what would you like?”
“Just a Mai Tai, please,” you reply and he moves to grab a glass, scooping some ice into it. Remaining hunched over the counter, you peek around your shoulder to take in the expanse of the pool. There seem to be multiple levels of depth, one corner only a few inches deep so that a few sun loungers could be placed safely in the water, another area walled off to house a jacuzzi. The sun was beginning to dip beneath the covers of the ocean, a gentle orange hue reflecting back off the surface of the sea, glistening with every ripple as if it were breathing.
The Mai Tai is placed in front of you, the glass cool against your palm and damp with condensation. It quells the dryness in your throat, palate overwhelmed by the sweet pineapple and the tart of the grenadine.
It’s as you’re enjoying the first sip that you feel someone sidle up beside you, bumping their shoulder lightly against yours in an overly familiar gesture.
With a startled inhale, Yuu comes into your peripheral view. He’s changed into a vest top, the fabric hanging loosely, plunging at his chest and framing the sparse freckles across his collar.
“It’s you again,” you breathe. Something untwists in your chest at his presence, a feeling akin to relief.
“It’s me,” he concedes cheekily, only taking his eyes off of you to order himself a drink by pointing towards an image on the menu board, seemingly not able to shape his mouth around the name.
His hair is damp beneath his cap, still sitting backwards on the crown of his head. He smells faintly of vanilla and cedarwood, but there’s a hint of salt water that indicates he had already found his way into the ocean at least once.
Lost in your appraisal of him, you almost miss that he’s speaking to you again. “Sorry, what did you say?”
The corner of his lips twitch, a veil of amusement slipping over his expression. His cheeks are pinker than before, you note.
“Aikurushii,” he murmurs, quietly thanking the bartender with a nod as his drink is placed on the bar. You aren’t sure what he’d said, but the word was spoken fondly.
“I asked what your name is”.
“Ah, that’s right…” you hadn’t had the chance to earlier, introductions cut short by a lack of time and your impromptu race. Clutching your glass a little closer against your chest, fingers slipping around the curves, you give him your name.
He repeats it to himself, and then to you, as if he were testing how it felt in his mouth. Given the thickness of his accent it takes him a few tries before it sounds native, his experimentation with the pitch and intonation of the letters causing you to smile bemusedly.
“I like it,” he announces as he lifts his own drink towards you, the colours of his Tequila Sunrise mimicking that of the sky, “it’s pretty — like you!”
There’s a gentle clink as your glasses meet in the middle, a habitual ‘cheers’ slipping past your lips, smiling as you take another sip. Heat flushes through your body independent of the sun, your heart like a hummingbird while you drink. You wondered how he could be so disarming, so charismatic, that his obvious flirting came across as entirely harmless. It was just that; flattering and genuine, not seeking reciprocation.
“I like yours, too,” you offer lamely, the prospect of flirting back a little too daunting while you’re still this sober, “what does it mean?”
His back straightens with obvious pride and he reaches for a napkin, eyes darting the length of the bar before he hastily reaches over to grab a pen from beside the register. The ink is a little dry and the tissue tears beneath the friction, but he writes his name out in what you assume to be Kanji.
“The meaning is… different with other kanji,” he slides it towards you, “written this way it means…”
He clicks his fingers impatiently, and you allow him a moment to mentally untangle the translation before he speaks again. “Evening sun!” he recalls.
“Evening sun,” you hum in contemplation, thumb brushing over the jagged lines of pen pressed into the napkin. He leans against the heel of his hand and watches you, the other idly playing with the decorative umbrella in his drink.
“It doesn’t fit, right?” he eventually huffs, voicing your thoughts. It wasn’t something you were going to say outright, nervous that it would be rude — and it wasn’t that the name didn’t suit him. It did.
But the meaning was a little askew. Even after only two brief interactions, you knew Yuu was nothing like the evening sun. Sunsets were beautiful, but they were also sombre, a slow descent into sleep. Yuu was blinding, he drew your attention and lit everything he touched.
More of a solar noon, you think.
“I like it,” you recite in a moment of bravery, “it’s handsome — like you”.
It’s a bit embarrassing to see the bartender turn away in the corner of your vision, head tucked to his chest to hide his smile at the display. Yuu’s lips part in surprise, his ears burning red and throat bobbing as he swallows. Then his teeth sink into the inside of his cheek to restrain the grin pulling at his mouth.
At some point you both move toward one of the many outdoor tables. Despite his occasional struggle with speaking English, conversation passes easily when paired with laughter and alcohol; specifically, alcohol disguised too closely when mixed with fruit juice. It loosens your tongue, seduced by the gentle breeze that rolls in from the choppy ocean waves and drawn in by Yuu’s subtle yet casual touches.
As the evening continued the sun had tucked itself in, the patio now coolly lit only by the light from the restaurant and the lanterns littered around the pool. Drinks side by side, his index finger unfurls to touch yours before it returns to the glass. “You’re here alone too?” he asks.
“I am,” you assent heavily, the answer coming as more of a sigh. Sleep was beginning to weigh on your limbs, a buzzing numbness spreading throughout your body, but you didn’t want the night to end.
“And only for a few days…” he thinks aloud, nudging his foot gently against yours “… you didn’t want to come with a friend?”
“They were all busy and this trip… it was a bit spontaneous—”
“Spontaneous?” he interrupts, the bridge of his nose faintly wrinkled in confusion.
“Not planned,” you elaborate again, unphased by the disruption, “I decided one day that I needed a break. I wanted to come alone”.
He makes a small noise of understanding, which you appreciate, and the conversation grows quiet. In the distance you can hear the long laps of the sea against sand, trees bristling under the breeze, and you lift your foot slightly to press against his ankle.
“Do you believe in having a purpose?” you mumble.
Yuu watches you heavily, eyes alight and calculating, giving the impression that he could see through all your bravado.
“Purpose?”
“As in… something that makes only your life meaningful”.
“Like destiny?” he tilts his head curiously.
You hum an uncertain affirmative, and his expression twists in confusion. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t understand the question, vague and philosophical as it was.
His resolute “no” surprises you, his brows drawn together and tight in a thoughtful frown. “There is no one set path in life, that’s what makes it so fun! There's so many possibilities”.
The joy is contagious. You smile. “You really think so?”
He reaches across the small table to grasp your free hand, his palms warm and rough, much bigger than your own. Instinctively, your fingers curl up to thread through his, and he squeezes triumphantly.
“Shimizuno butaikara tobioriru,” he says with theatrical monotony, like he were telling you something profound, “it’s a… prov…”
“Proverb?”
“Proverb!” —he beams, whispering conspiratorially how it is ‘the only one he remembers from high school’— “it’s about taking risks and hoping for the best. Waiting for purpose is like waiting for death, you have to go out and look for it!”
The sentiment is both comforting and daunting. It would be easier, you think, to have your life follow a set path that never strayed; but that was exactly how you’d been living until this point. It was exactly what you were running from.
“Thanks Yuu,” you murmur softly, and he grazes his thumb along the dips and peaks of your knuckles. The night comes to an end as your jaw stretches with a yawn. He insists on walking you to your room, and takes a large amount of persuasion on your part for him to settle on leaving you by the elevator.
“Come with me tomorrow morning,” he stands a little straighter in his enthusiasm, eyes consciously flickering to the changing numbers above the elevator doors, “I’m going on a boat trip to one of the coves. I want you to come”.
Take the leap, you think.
“Okay”.
Morning comes. The curtains are drawn, the light barely shut out from behind the thin fabric. Lying on your side facing the window, you force your eyes closed in complaint, sluggishly blinking to adjust to the brightness. Your phone is buzzing in place on the bedside table, vibrations inching it closer to the edge with each ring.
Vision bleary, you squint to read the text on the screen. Most of the notifications had been your alarm: ‘Yuu @ 11AM’ written below the digital clock in all capital letters. The rest were from friends and family, inquiring where you were and why you left.
Your thumb hovers for a short while over the call button, only to be interrupted by another alarm. You’d set multiple the night before after parting ways with Yuu — you knew yourself well enough, knew you’d try to crawl back into bed as you always wanted to.
Not today.
Yuu is waiting exactly where he said he would be. Today he opted for some brightly coloured mid thigh swim shorts and a black vest top, no cap in sight to cover his golden kiss curl. You pull your beach bag further up your shoulder, clutching tightly at the strap.
It takes less than five minutes after meeting him in the lobby for you to realise that Yuu is very much a morning person. He talks a lot, not just with his words but his body. He’s tactile, but in a casual way, as if it were natural for him to press a palm to your lower back mid conversation as a new distraction takes hold of him along the pier.
Oddly enough, it feels natural for you too.
“Look!” he exclaims, accompanied by a drawn out sound of awe. Following his line of sight your gaze falls upon an egregiously decorated stall on the promenade, loud and decorated in every colour you could imagine. Two stands are placed either side of it, each adorned with large sunglasses in various sizes and shapes.
Yuu picks out the most flamboyant pair from the rack, big heart shaped lenses in iridescent pink, the frames covered in glitter. He slides them onto the bridge of his nose, gesturing to them with his hands and raising his eyebrows.
“They look good, right?” his smirk lifts into a crooked grin when he adds ‘sexy’ in a thick Japanese accent. The two women passing by find him amusing, his back straightening in pride at their girlish laughter, and you find yourself again attracted to his natural charm.
It’s true that the sunglasses were ridiculous, but you quietly conceded that they looked good on him. You could assume that anything would when worn by someone so magnetic. Part of you wants to put the damn things back on the rack just so everyone would stop looking at him. In the end that isn’t necessary, because he pulls them off himself, turning them over carefully between his fingers and gently sliding them onto your face.
“Better on you,” he muses and a wave of heat rushes through you. From behind the lenses Yuu is tinged with a cherry pink, the hue completely covering the blue of the sky into a soft purple.
The man behind the stall, presumably the owner, stretches across to tap roughly against the sign propped above the rack. It reads €10.
“I got it,” Yuu calls as he slides the €10 note onto the surface of the wooden counter. Completely unperturbed by the slight possibility that he’d agitated the local, simply resolving the issue with ease and a lazy grin.
You envied how free he was within himself.
The sun beats down onto your bare shoulders, a dull and telling sting beginning along the bridge of your nose beneath the frame of the glasses. You pull them off, tucking them into your beach bag.
“Can I ask you something?” you murmur as the two of you continue on foot, milling slowly through the sparse crowds that have gathered around the seafront.
He tilts his head to watch you expectantly, and you resist the urge to shrink beneath his undivided attention.
“What made you come here?”
He hums, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and holding out the other in front of him as if he were searching for something. “I found a map and—” he begins to mutter in Japanese as he loosely wiggles his fingers, the tune familiar to your ears. It reminds you a little of ‘eenie meenie miney mo’.
“—bam! I put my finger down, and it was on this island!” he grins, and you can’t help but mirror his expression, amused by his own impulsivity.
“So then you just bought the next ticket here?” you laugh incredulously, and he nods.
“Why?”
“Why not?” he counters, widening his stride to gently nudge his shoulder against your own.
The dock comes into view, and your eyes immediately fall upon the tour boat nestled beside a large pontoon. It is entirely white aside from the green net stretched between its two hulls. As you approach you can see some people are already crawling across the hammock to sprawl over the water.
“So cool,” you hear Yuu’s quiet amazement at your side, piloted by his enthusiasm as he rushes forward onto the narrow metal plank allowing entrance onto the deck.
“Come on!”
He beckons you with a wave of his arm, waiting with one foot atop the makeshift bridge. Hesitantly you make your way towards him, taking it one step at a time, pausing each time the water rocked the boat.
As you reach the end he takes your hand, the other gripping your waist to steady you while he lowers you into the boat unprompted. Your pulse quickens as his hold lingers, searing through the fabric of your shorts.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says earnestly as he squeezes your hip, “I’ve got you”.
Flustered, you clumsily return greetings with the crew on board, Yuu following closely behind wearing a pleased grin. Tempted, you kick off your flip flops and lead him over to the hammocks, feeling his hands hover at your sides while you walk towards a free space. Below the nets the sea rolls gently, the water perfectly clear and tinted a cyan-green teal that you thought only existed in pictures.
While you slowly lower yourself, cautious of the gaps between the rope, Yuu stands over you with his shadow cast over your eyes. The sun frames his silhouette, and you find it fitting.
“Good?” he asks, settling beside you and pulling at the collar of his thin shirt. Your beach bag bunches awkwardly at your side, ears drawn to the sound of your suncream clashing against your water bottle.
Rummaging through, you find the bottle and hand it over to him, the plastic awkwardly bent inwards. You laugh as he releases a dramatic sob of relief, stare lingering on the bob of his throat as he drinks, watching the stray droplet of water trail from his mouth to his chin.
Averting your gaze before he catches you, you slowly begin to notice that you’re surrounded by couples. Each one wrapped up in their own worlds, in each other’s arms, barely cognisant of the bustling crew members around them. A knot pulls tight in your chest at the thought that someone might make that assumption about the two of you, too.
Your vision is obscured suddenly, half empty water bottle suspended in the air where Yuu holds it to grab your attention. “You have some too,” he encourages, “it’s really hot today”.
Yes, you think as he reaches behind his neck to tug the material of his vest over his head, warm toned abdomen flexing with the action. Hot.
“Are you wearing sun protection?” you clear the swell in your throat, reaching out to touch his bicep in allusion to testing his temperature, “you could burn, there's not a lot of cover”.
“I forgot,” he leans into your hand, heat and amusement simmering behind dilating pupils, “do you have it?”
His spoken English is stilted when he’s distracted, you realise, and the implication is pressed into the soft skin of your lower lip as you bite back a smile. Reaching into the beach bag for the suncream, you feel the engines of the boat begin to rumble, sending vibrations through the netting.
“Here,” you hold it out towards him, but his arms slack forward into his lap and he makes no move to take it from you. With a less than innocent pout and pink cheeks, he says:
“I don’t think I can do it,” he exaggerates the laxness of his arms by flopping them back against his thighs, “my arms won’t work!”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, genuine and unrestrained. The sound causes his entire demeanour to brighten, visibly enamoured and growing ever-pinker.
The boat begins to gently work its way out of the dock as you gesture for him to turn around, shaking the bottle before squirting it into your palm and rubbing your hands together. The rope net digs uncomfortably into your knees as you shuffle closer, sliding the pale cream over the curve of his broad shoulders and down the planes of his back.
You can’t help but indulge yourself, fingertips ghosting the divots in his stomach as you lather up his waist, noticing the sparse beauty marks dotted near the small of his back.
Once you’ve found your way to his arms the wind has started to whip through your hair, finally departing the main dock and gliding out into the far off expanse of blue. The breeze is warm even as speed picks up, jolting you forward into Yuu’s side when the boat rides over a large wave, and he turns to steady you.
You let yourself fall and he holds you against his chest as you laugh, barely audible over the roar of the wind, eyes narrowed against the faint spray of the ocean.
To think that only two days ago you were holding back tears mid flight, shaking at the thought of switching your phone back on.
Still entangled, your bodies slide left as the boat makes a hard right into the mouth of an open cove, bracketed by tall cliffs and conjoined to an untouched beach. The engine cuts off, stopping centre between the two peaks, unable to proceed into the shallower water.
It’s then that people begin to move, couples parting to head towards the bar while others begin to take pictures. A crew member crosses the net without hesitation to easily unlatch the lid between the nets, a testament to how often he must have to repeat the action.
Where the lid could lead you weren’t sure, because Yuu is already pulling you to your feet and to the left hull, passing the door entirely and leaving your belongings behind. He steps up onto the platform, glancing over his shoulder excitedly and gesturing for you to join him.
“Let’s go for a swim,” he encourages, backing up until the heels of his feet are teetering over the edge and he’s playfully pretending to lose balance. He does it again, only to enjoy your nervous yelp of his name, and the way you reach for him.
“Wait,” you tease, “I need to take my shorts off–”
With a final inhale and his fingers loosely around your wrist, Yuu drags you over the hull with him, and your eyes squeeze shut as you go willingly.
The water is cold, even with the day-round attention of the sun, and it provides relief from the heat while instinctively willing your lungs to breathe. As if time were momentarily suspended, you can hear the muffled cheers from above and you fight the urge to inhale, kicking your feet beneath you.
You gasp, embarrassingly ungraceful as you break the surface, leaving only your head and neck exposed. Yuu laughs warmly from your left and you startle at the feeling of his fingers encircling your wrist once more under the water. He reels you in easily, the weight of your body lighter in the ocean's embrace, and one you’re in reach he wraps his other arm around the small of your back.
Between the two nets is an opening that leads to a ladder beneath the bridge deck, which has been lowered into the sea. That must’ve been where the latched door led, you think, as he languidly pulls you into its shelter.
Assisted by the gentle roll of an incoming wave, Yuu guides you up onto the step to sit and using the support of the ladder, stands between your thighs. Here, like this, his body cages you in between the side rails.
He leans in close, determined, and your pulse quickens. His tanned skin glistens even under the shadows of the boat, droplets of water running along his arms and torso. Your eyes track them as they disappear into his low hanging swim trunks, appreciating how the material clings to the thick of his thighs.
“Look,” he murmurs, raptly staring past your shoulder, close enough that all you’d need to is tilt up your chin. Glancing in the same direction, your sight falls to a large shoal of fish, all a greyish pink and moving in sync while the people above throw them food.
Further below you can see the ocean floor, tendrils of sand shifting as the water ripples and rocks the boat. It’s there that you see a stingray pass through, it’s pectoral fins fluttering like wings.
“Wow…” you breathe, the ebbing tide lapping at your sternum, and Yuu hums in agreement. But his gaze is on you, half lidded and admiring how your shirt clings to your body from behind his wet bangs.
The atmosphere shifts into something physical, thick enough that it could be malleable. The other people on the boat have either swam in the opposite direction toward the cove or chosen to stay aboard, their voices muffled and varying in language. It’s just the two of you under the hulls.
He exhales your name, lilted like a question and pleading. The lift of your chin is all the indication that he needs, his body curling inwards to kiss you. It’s chaste and tender, droplets of water still slipping down his cheeks into the seam of his mouth, the salt lingering on your tongue when your lips part.
You sigh against him, pleased, and the kiss deepens. You cradle his jaw in your hands, thumbing the curve of his cheekbones and pulling him in, wanting him closer. He moans quietly into your mouth, a gentle rumbling in the back of his throat that has your thighs rubbing together, and it is just as he licks over your tongue that the boat jostles.
The moment is cut short and Yuu’s foot slips from the step that is still submerged, his body plunging into the water and distorted as it ripples around him.
A few seconds pass and he finally breaks the surface, coming up with a startled breath that dissolves into loud, contagious laughter. There’s no hint of embarrassment in his expression as he returns to his spot between your legs, hair saturated and sticking flat to his face.
He kisses you again, barely — your mouth is preoccupied with grinning, with catching your breath between laughs. He kisses your cheeks, mumbling Japanese words into your skin that you don’t understand. And the hours pass like this; lost in the kindling of the waves and of each other.
Eventually a crew member stands off to the side of the ship and calls out for everyone to return, as the ship was to be taken back to the pier. The two of you are handed towels as you board, a younger woman in uniform smirking knowingly, and your shorts are left to dry under the afternoon heat.
By the time you dock the horizon is a purple seam where the dimming blue sky and the ocean are stitched into a thin line of white. Yuu kisses the back of your shoulder and you feel yourself sink against his chest, smitten at the nonchalant manner in which he shows you affection. Like it was something normal, like you’d known each other for months.
“I had fun,” you tell him blithely, picking at the loose strands of fabric splitting off from the towel and readying yourself to part ways. This wasn’t your forte, and you weren’t sure where the lines were drawn when it came to something as casual as a holiday romance.
“Just fun?” he says lowly, smiling like he knew something you didn’t, “it was amazing. I’m happy I came here”.
I’m happy I met you.
Much like he had that morning, Yuu helps you off the boat onto the wooden pier. With your beach bag slung over your shoulder, still-damp shorts clinging to your waist and flip flops in hand, you both descend onto the sand in an attempt to prolong the walk home.
The sun is almost completely set now, a warm orange hue blanketing the surface of the ocean and glistening as it palpitates. You stop to admire it, Yuu only a few steps ahead, and the waves lap gently at your bare feet.
“It’s beautiful,” you comment aloud, worried that he may have misinterpreted your pause, but when you look back at him he’s smiling affectionately. Something simmers in his irises, a flickering amber glow reflecting back at you, and he is noticeably shorter as he sinks in the saturated sand.
“Yes, beautiful,” he replies, “kirē”.
“Kirē,” you repeat, the word simple enough to pronounce and pleasing on the tongue. He visibly lights up, the close lipped smile pulling into an easy grin.
“You,” his eyes appraise your body purposefully as he draws near, “kirē”.
Drifting in from the promenade you hear the gentle music of a live band. The melodic twang of a mandolin as it's strummed, mellow as it intertwines with the hum of a violin. Yuu’s hips subtly follow the beat, head tilted toward the sound like a puppy, but eyes still firmly locked with yours.
He stretches out his arms. “We should dance,” he insists with a come hither motion. Anxiety and affection intermingle in your chest, heart fluttering at the show of romance.
The entire day felt like a script, as if you were an unsuspecting civilian that had walked onto a movie set. The last thing you’d expected when you bought your impulsive two way ticket to Sardinia was to meet a man like Yuu.
“I can’t dance,” you admit awkwardly, pulling at the strap of your flip flops hooked between your fingers.
”Everybody can dance,” he grins, accent bleeding through and pronouncing it as dansu.
Eyes lingering on the crowd of teenagers laughing and playing around along the beach up ahead, you cautiously take the hand held out to you.
“Won’t it be embarrassing?” you murmur self-consciously.
Yuu smiles, his other arm slipping around the small of your back and gently closing the distance between your bodies. “That’s up to you,” he says, “will you let yourself be embarrassed?”
Resting your cheek against his shoulder with one hand pressed to his chest, your body languidly rocks side to side, syncing with Yuu’s timing. You can smell the ocean in the line of throat and the coconut suncream still lingering on his skin. His touch is warm through your shirt, branding as it dips lower and curves over your shorts.
Typically, the passage of time was something of a comfort to you. Nothing ever stood still, days spent staring at the blinking numbers on your phone screen just longing to go home and sleep, so you could do it all over again.
Here you felt it slipping through your fingers like the sand beneath you. For the first time in perhaps ever, you wanted things to remain as they were. You wished a bubble would encase the two of you where you could remain hand in hand under the balmy evening sun.
You had to go home in a few days. That was an everlooming fact. But the unread messages on your phone and the responsibilities awaiting your return home are long forgotten as you continue to sway together in the soft sand. While the trip would eventually need to end, the night did not — not yet.
The song fades out, and your nose brushes the underside of his jaw once you lift your head to speak. “Walk me to my room tonight,” you say. His expression is unguarded and open, filled with warmth that rivalled the humidity as his tongue wets his lower lip.
“Yeah?” he rasps, and when you nod he exhales a heady ‘wakarimasita’ under his breath.
The rest of the journey to the hotel couldn’t happen fast enough. Anticipation thrums through you, Yuu unable to keep to himself as he pulls you into narrow alleys and overshadowed corners to kiss you. You can feel it in your belly, the restlessness and the heat, a warm twist of what’s to come.
Your cheeks ache as you shakily unlock the door to your pseudo-studio, Yuu crowding against your back with his hips pressed into your behind, half hard and nuzzling the nape of your neck. The tiles are cool under the soles of your feet, stray flecks of sand tracking into the room and rough on your skin, turning in Yuu’s embrace to take his face back into your hands as he kisses you again.
“I want you,” you say quietly into his mouth, “Yuu, I–”
He curses, or at least you think he does, fingers tightening where they sit on your hips. You trust him to navigate you through the narrow hallway into the bedroom, his tongue wet and warm as it teases with yours, a thin line of saliva stretching until snapped as you bump into a corner and startle away from the kiss.
“Sorry,” he pants, reaching to cradle the back of your head, “shit. You’re going to kill me, you’re so–”
The bedframe digs into the back of your calves uncomfortably, gravity shifting as he leans his weight forward and hooks an arm under your thigh, body falling back onto the bed. Yuu cinches his fingers around your wrists and presses them into the mattress, your lips parting in a soft laugh as he kisses you again, cautious and tender, growing steadily confident when you push back.
Then he pulls away, smiling amusedly at your whine of complaint and tucking his nose to the underside of your chin, nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat. You force yourself to push through the heat simmering under your skin, his slow descent down the length of your torso causing your thighs to clench either side of him.
“Yuu”.
Knelt between your thighs he curls his fingers into the fabric of your shirt, tugging it lightly, and you notice that they’re trembling. His lips are bitten red and shiny, agape while he catches his breath. “I want to see you,” he says.
“You too,” you murmur, pushing yourself up to remove the clothing only after he sits back to pull off his own. Indulgently, you reach out to trace the divots of his abdomen, relishing how his nipples pebble and his stomach flexes under your fingers. You can see the outline of his cock, thick and warm in the confines of his swim shorts.
“Sugoi kirei,” he groans, quick to press his face to your chest as soon as you’re bare to him. His hands knead at the thick of your thighs, smoothing over your hips and to your breasts, gently squeezing and turning his cheek to suck your nipple into his mouth.
Your fingers thread into the dark tresses of his hair, the throb between your legs hot and insistent. “Can’t…” your heart stutters where it sits, back instinctively arching up against the flick of his tongue, “...can’t understand it when you–”
“Sorry,” he says, his expression a drunken stupor as he pulls back from your breast to kiss the valley of your chest, “gorgeous– you’re gorgeous. Hard to think around you”.
“How–” a hand slips beneath the fabric of your shorts, pausing as your voice stammers and waiting for permission. Your hips lift slightly from the bedsheets, encouraging the touch further between your legs, “–how can you just say things like that?”
"Easy. You think too much," he huffs lightheartedly.
"You think too little".
"Then we're perfect". He traces the tips of his fingers through your folds, eyes widening imperceptibly from above you, body weight braced onto his left forearm where it rests beside your head. Your lips part with the whine of his name, a soft admonishment as he toys with your slick, sliding his wet fingers over your clit in one smooth motion. Your thighs fall further open for him when he finally sinks into you, “nueteru,” a hot flush of embarrassment flooding through you at his amazed whisper.
The stretch that comes with two of his fingers is familiar, slightly bigger than your own. It’s endearingly awkward at first, your body reacting naturally to the sensation as his wrist twists between the apex of your thighs, finding a comfortable position for his thumb to lightly circle over your clit.
“Okay?” he murmurs, accent thickening with his arousal, the weight of his cock pressing into your hip. You exhale a quiet moan as he fucks you on his fingers, brows drawn together in mild frustration and you reach to encircle his wrist.
“Just—” you shift your hips, bearing down on his hand as he steadies his rhythm, “like that. Fuck”.
His chestnut eyes are dark, swallowed by his pupils and enraptured as your hips twitch. He ducks his head to kiss you again, skin burning at the lewd sounds reverberating around the room, and he muffles something foreign into your mouth.
As if a match had been lit in your stomach, the warmth began to kindle and spread, arousal ebbing through you like a pulse. You’re helpless to the clamping of your thighs at his sides, to the short wet gasps of someone trying to catch their breath, your muscles winding tighter around his fingers as you reach the edge and—
You feel a sudden onset of pain, a tight sharp twist in your right calf that yanks you forwards and into reality, automatically curling in on yourself to reach for the source. Yuu curses, pulls away at your yelp as if it burned him, hands hovering near you and still sodden.
“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?” he frets, the heaviness of the atmosphere quickly dissipating as you clutch at the lower half of your leg.
“Cramp,” you manage to choke through your clenched jaw, nose wrinkling in discomfort when the muscle contracts once more. Yuu’s expression relaxes into understanding, and he settles his hand atop yours.
“Let me help,” he says gently, helping you roll onto your front and murmuring quiet reassurances at your meek whimpers. Crossing your arms beneath the pillow to tuck your face into it, Yuu presses his thumbs into your calf muscle and works his practiced fingers over the knot, the pain gradually softening into soreness. And with that, embarrassment.
He bends to kiss the back of your thigh, and your breathing hitches. “Does that feel better?”
“Yes,” you groan pathetically, not wanting to look him in the eye. There’s a beat of silence that weighs heavily on your chest, and you wondered how he might try and leave now without making it awkward.
But then he’s crawling up the bed and nuzzling affectionately into your hair, lips grazing the shell of your ear while he speaks. “Do you want to stop?”
The immediate counter of ‘do you?’ falls unbidden from your mouth, mildly accusatory to veil how insecure you suddenly felt. You feel the shake of his head, eyes still squeezed shut, and he grinds his hips against your ass as a reminder.
“I like you,” he says patently, “I want to keep going if you do”.
You hazard a glance over your shoulder to meet his gaze, greeted with desire and sincerity, golden bangs hanging loosely over his eyes. In reply you push your hips back, and watch his jaw slack at the friction.
“I want to...” you murmur, attention drawn back to the neglected throbbing between your legs, “...need you to fuck me”.
“Ok, I can—, do you—” his hands grope at your hips, rutting against the curve of your ass again like he can’t help himself, “condoms?”
Fuck. “I think I have some in my suitcase, the inside pocket, let me…”
“I'll get them,” he rasps, his weight moving to the other side of the bed and deciding to get rid of his swim shorts on the way. Your suitcase sits open in the corner of the room, belongings half strewn out from your rush this morning, and Yuu crouches beside it naked as the day he was born with his arm buried in the front compartment.
You can’t help but laugh a little at the image.
He glares playfully in your direction as he continues to rummage, eyes lighting up once he finds what he’s looking for and then… brows lifting as he finds something else.
He stands upright and makes his way back to where you’re laid on your back, still far too clothed. Your eyes linger on his cock, hanging hard between his legs and bobbing as he walks. Had you not been so distracted, you would have seen what he was holding.
Only when he drops the items beside you to curl his fingers into the waistband of your shorts do you see it. A condom packet and your three inch bullet vibrator.
“Yuu—!” With a tug he drags your shorts down your legs, pulling your body down the mattress with them and reminding you just how much strength he held in his compact body. He’s grinning knowingly, all teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he looks at you. Molten, hungry.
“Daijobu, don’t think,” he drawls, crowding into your space and hooking your thighs over his own. He takes the packet between his fingers to tear it open, slipping the condom over the head of his cock and down his length with a hiss, bucking into his fist. You squirm underneath him impatiently.
Teasing, he tilts forward to push the tip of his cock through your folds, rolling over your clit and soaking himself with your sex. It feels good, slowly being coaxed back to where you left off, still sensitive and twitching.
The sudden incessant buzz of your vibrator startles you out of your stupor, attention drawn to the space between your bodies where he holds it only a centimetre above your clit, watching carefully for signs of discomfort.
It was a little surprising, and attractive, that he’d even wanted to use it on you in the first place. Not many past partners had, too proud or insecure to try.
“Please,” you exhale, arms curling up over your head to clutch at the bedding. As the end of the bullet is pushed onto your clit, Yuu slowly sinks his cock into you, the vibrations easing the sting.
Your body arches like the string of a bow against the steadfast rumble of the vibrator, full and throbbing around Yuu’s cock. His breathing is heavy as he draws back and rocks forward, fucking deeper into you as you stretch to accommodate him.
He whines your name, a wanton sound and clumsily pronounced as it catches in his throat, brows drawn together and lips parted in concentration. With hips rolling up against him, you urge him on as you find yourself quickly barrelling back toward the peak, thighs clenching involuntarily.
A click echoes around the room, and the vibrations become more intense, pulling a wounded sob from your throat. It’s indelible, made overwhelming by the humidity of the night and your warm breaths sweltering throughout the room.
“Yuu, I’m—”.
“Yeah,” he groans roughly, unperturbed by the awkward angle of his wrist as he tries to keep the bullet steady, other arm curled around your thigh and holding it close to his chest.
You hold your breath, coiled unbearably tight and waiting. You feel yourself reach the crest, the distinct swoop in your stomach as you’re tided over, head tilting back into the bed sheets as your hips jolt. You cum around his cock, body flushed hot and clenched, until you finally come back to yourself and the tension releases.
The vibrations continue and you hiss in discomfort, still hazy and eyes half lidded, Yuu quickly understands and throws the bullet aside. Still rutting into your cunt, he finally leans forward to brace his body over yours, rhythm growing desperate as he pants your name into the curve of your throat.
“Cumming,” he chokes, a pained sound pulled deep from his chest as his body stills after one final thrust, and you exhale a soft moan alongside him.
Around you, the atmosphere settles. He remains curled against your chest as the two of you catch your breath, the bullet vibrator still buzzing mutedly somewhere between the sheets. Yuu’s hand pats blindly around the bed in search of it, causing you to laugh, and he groans as you contract around him.
When he finally softens and slips from you, the vague sense of loss is uncomfortable, your body clenching around the emptiness. He shuffles across the mattress only to reach for the tissue box on the bedside table, rolling the condom off of his cock and wrapping it up.
He flops down beside you, grunting as he gets comfortable, grasping something from beneath his back and finding it to be the bullet. With a click, the room falls truly silent. You reach across and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing gently. He doesn’t startle or flinch, the smooth pad of his thumb stroking the back of your hand, and it feels as if everything has truly fallen into place.
“That was…”
“Amazing,” he breathes, lips jutting into a pout when you snort. He turns onto his side to take you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin and running a hand along your spine.
“Pretty good,” you finish. You can’t see him, but you can feel him grin into your hair.
“Pretty good…” he repeats mockingly, voice rough with exhaustion and drifting. As sleep pulls at your consciousness, you hear him mumble:
“Good thing I’ve got all week”.
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@starkerfestivals Summer Bingo fill: mistaken for a couple
AN: My fourth prompt fill for the SF Summer Bingo. Will eventually be posted to AO3.
A night of festivities was the last thing on Tony’s mind. Shocker, as that may come to some considering his notoriety as a party animal before his ascension to herodom. Truth be told, he probably wouldn’t have minded, only the Guardian's unexpected visit to Earth coincided with the two-year anniversary of The Return. With the Mad Titan’s defeat. And Tony can’t help he doesn’t share his teammate's enthusiasm. He almost feels guilt for it. Almost.
“You alright, Mr. Stark?” The query centers Tony back to reality and turns to find Peter Parker regarding him inquisitively.
“Yeah. Just… you know how it is. Fifty tabs open.” He dismisses with a tight smile.
“How ‘bout tooling down and joining us?” Peter suggests. “Drax wants to play truth or dare… although I think he’s more interested in the dare part. But it’ll be fun.” He encourages, hopeful.
Truth or dare? Tony couldn’t think of a worse scenario. And what were they twelve? They turn their attention towards the boisterous group that has gathered in the lounge room of the compound.
Peter chuckles. “They’re pretty keen.”
“Count me out this time, kid.” He smiles regrettably.
“Oh. Okay.” Peter says, and Tony swears to God that pout should be illegal. “Well, I’ll check in on you later,” he promises, and Tony softens at his words.
He watches the young hero return to the group and is met with a joyous uproar.
Tony instead becomes acquainted with the bar. He busies himself fixing a non-alcohol drink; soda water and ginger ale. It’s a piss poor alternative to hard liquor, but after three years clean it was something to be proud of, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.
He remains beside the bar. It provided an advantageous view of the spectacle taking place and a boundary between him and other keen individuals who may yet attempt to rope him into their juvenile antics.
Or so he thought.
Something shifts at the corner of his peripheral vision and he starts, finding Mantis standing there.
“Ah, hey.” Tony nods his head, regarding the alien women warily. She smiles, the depths of her black eyes peering up at him.
“You are not joining your friends?” she asks.
He affords her a small smile in return. “Nah. Too many secrets.”
“I have none,” she states, almost proudly. “I am what Terran’s refer to as ‘an open book’.”
Tony stifles a chuckle behind his glass. That he was almost certain of. In their short acquaintance, Tony learned quickly that Mantis, among some of her other teammates, didn’t share the same social etiquette as their ‘Terran’ counterparts.
When he regards Mantis again, she has not moved nor diverted her attention from his person. Simply staring and smiling, which might be a generous description for it resembled that of someone who was learning how to manipulate their facial muscles in such a way for the first time.
He prompts, “So, um, did you… need… something?”
The insect monikers expression lights up.
“Yes! You have reminded me.” She eagerly steps toward Tony and he resists the instinct to step back. “As is tradition in Terran culture, I wish to congratulate you–”
“Yeah, that’s not necessary–”
“-- on the union with your life mate.”
“My what now?”
Tony stares, baffled by the peculiar woman’s meaning. Understandably, they didn’t get the memo in deep space, but Pepper and Tony were no longer together. Hadn’t been since the blip.
And before he can ask Mantis to who he’s suppose to be ‘in union’ with, she turns and points in the general direction of the group of heroes. “You and the little spider–”
The glass slips from Tony’s hand, bouncing on the countertop and spilling its contents. His stomach drops and the colour drains from his face. He dares not look up to see if the commotion has stirred anyone's curiosity and instead hastily reaches for napkins to wipe up the mess.
Another set of hands enter his field of vision and it takes him one second too long to realise Mantis has silently offered her assistance. In his anxiety-riddled state, he forgets his close proximity to the empath, and it isn’t until she brushes her hand against his that he remembers too late.
They lock eyes for a brief moment, long enough to mutually acknowledge what has just transpired. Then Tony wrenches his hand away and stumbles back, cradling it as if burned by the touch.
“Did you–” He stops, dares breathe life to his fear.
Mantis cowers, hands raised before her defensively. “I am sorry,” she says quietly.
Shit. Shit.
“Look–” he starts, trying to piece together a sound excuse, “–I don’t know where you got that idea, but there’s nothing going on between Parker and me.”
“I do not understand.”
“The only thing to understand is Parker–” he catches himself, “–Peter is not my life mate, or whatever you call it.”
“But you have love,” Mantis says, “romantic love for--”
“Stop!” He all but shouts.
His gaze flickers nervously toward the crowd and then regards the petite woman again. He needs to end this quickly and get some assurance that this is all some miscommunication or something.
This can’t get out.
“Look, I care for the kid, alright. There’s no denying that. He’s… he’s one of a kind. But it’s not like – like that. You got it?”
He wants her to nod. Say something, anything that confirms she understands his meaning and will drop the subject from here on out, but she stares at him with childlike innocence.
“But–” Mantis tries again.
“Nah ah. We’re finished. End of story.”
He turns his back to her and fixes himself another drink and takes a shaky sip. With every breath, he tries to assemble some measure of control.
When he turns around and finds her still there, still watching him, he almost groans. But then she steps toward him again, only this time he has no means to move away. The bar pressed firmly behind him.
She looks at him sympathetically, if Tony had to hazard a guess, and he feels ice spread through his veins.
“Do not fear your heart, friend Stark,” she says. “It will not betray you.”
Tony feels his heart stutter at her words.
“You should tell him,” Mantis adds softly.
There’s a part of Tony that’s hanging on her words, wishing it was like some fucking Disney fairytale. That a simple declaration will be the beginning of his happily everafter. But he tells himself, as he has told himself countless times before, that such futures were written for people like him. Not with people like Peter.
“Hey, guys.”
“Friend Spider!”
Tony panics, almost dropping his glass for a second time at Peter’s unexpected appearance. God, he is getting too old for this. Peter, thankfully, addresses Mantis directly.
“Hey Mantis, Drax wants you to choose his next dare.”
Mantis gasps. “It will be my honour!” she proclaims before veering towards the party with purpose.
Tony keeps his eyes firmly on Mantis’ retreating figure, refusing to acknowledge Peter should he somehow give something away. What exactly, he doesn’t know, but the kid was intuitive like that. Sometimes to a fault. He should be thankful to have distanced himself from the peculiar alien, but he’s now left with the focus of their conversation, and he’s itching to take a swig of something a lot stronger.
“You okay?” Peter asks. His concern unmistakable.
“Yeah,” Tony replies, glancing at Peter quickly. “Yeah. Thanks, kid.” He clears his throat. “How do you not get twitchy around her?”
Peter shrugs. “You get used to it.” Tony looks at him disbelieving. “I mean… it can be confronting, sure, and Mantis isn’t the most tactful, but in a way, it’s like having someone who knows how you feel better than yourself. It can be helpful.”
“Has it? Tony asks. “I mean, has it helped you?”
“Yeah,” Peter responds and looks at his shoes. “It’s kinda nice. Validating, you know. It’s reassured me I’m not alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Tony says too quickly. Peter looks at him in question. “I mean, you’ve got us.” He nods in the direction of the group.
The corner of Peter’s mouth twitches and Tony feels his heart stutter again. He’s going to need to see his cardiologist after this.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
He doesn’t know if it’s light, but he thinks the kid is blushing, and he has the sudden compulsion to feel the heat of it beneath his hands, beneath his lips.
“Tony,” he corrects.
“Wha–?”
“I think it’s about time you graduated from the ‘Mr.Stark’s’ and ‘sirs’, don’t you think?’
“Sir?”
Peter peers up at him. Vulnerable. Like an open book. And Tony tells himself that he’s interpreting what he wants to see.
“I–” he begins to say, but then he pivots and leaves.
To be continued.
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Tilda van der Meer - Regional Control Center (Aloy’s Base) - Full Transcript
While this post is mostly a transcript of the one-on-one conversation you can have with Tilda once she’s at the base, I’ve also added other snippets spoken by or about her.
While I didn’t write scene descriptions, here are some interesting details I noticed:
When speaking about Elisabet at the beginning of the conversation, Tilda says, “I filled a void for her. I know I did.” and taps her pointer finger on the countertop three times. This is one of the few examples of her fidgeting.
She almost fidgets with her hands one other time, when she says “All this time...” in response to learning how Elisabet ended their final call.
When Aloy starts to ask why Tilda is helping her, she cuts her off before can finish, saying “A second chance, yes.” She also take a few steps forward, which causes Aloy to back away in response. It is the only time she shows obvious excitement.
At the very end of the conversation, Tilda says, “A universe of new possibilities.” to which Aloy replies, “Maybe we can make it happen,” (clearly just trying to end the conversation). Then Tilda says, “We will. I won’t let anything get in the way, I promise you that.” This is fucking terrifying in hindsight.
THE WINGS OF THE TEN
Aloy: Tilda? I’m in the air.
Tilda: Then you’ll want to pick up an energy cell on one of the ancient Horus Titans. But first you must send out a pulse to activate them. I’ve sent you the necessary software. To deploy it, you’ll have to override one of the communication machines you refer to as ‘Tallnecks.’ There’s one in the middle of the desert that should do nicely.
Aloy: On it.
-
Aloy: Okay, Tilda. I’ve overridden the Tallneck.
Tilda: Good. Then the energy cells are now primed. Simply pick one up on a Horus. The nearest one should be northwest of your position. Dropping it on Regalla’s machines should produce quite a spectacle.
Aloy: Thanks for the assist.
Tilda: I told you - I want to help.
THE WINGS OF THE TEN - AFTER SPEAKING TO SYLENS
Aloy: Tilda, you there? I did it. Sylens is on board. So head to my base.
Tilda: Impressive. I’ll be there as soon as I can.
CUTSCENE - MEETING SYLENS AND TILDA AT BASE
Erend: Aloy - your other guest is here. She’s, uh, coming to you.
Aloy: Thanks. Good timing. The truth is, I can’t actually get us into the base. But... she can.
Sylens: The company you keep is even worse than I thought.
Tilda: Not a fan of surprises, are you? Ah, look. That must be your little invention.
Aloy: Does the weapon work? Without self-destructing?
Sylens: Of course it does. I’ve eliminated the imperfections and greatly improved its design… and output.
Tilda: How can we be sure?
Sylens: Care for a demonstration?
Aloy: Enough, both of you. We’re in this together, at least for now. Go talk to Erend. Tell him I said to give you rooms of your own. I’ll come see you when I get a chance.
Sylens gestures toward the door. Tilda does the same, says: Oh, no. You first.
COMPANIONS COMMENTS ON TILDA
Aloy: You, uh, talked to Tilda at all?
Erend: I tried. I don’t think even a hot forge could melt that ice. And you say she wants to help?
Aloy: I think so. Well, let’s hope.
-
Aloy: Thoughts on our new Zenith acquaintance?
Zo: I’d say she smells like death, but even death smells of something. She’s more like a cold piece of metal, bent on repelling all semblance of life.
Aloy: She’s definitely… different.
-
After Varl dies:
Aloy: Tilda, the Zenith that Beta mentioned. She was the one who rescued me.
Alva: Did she say why?
Aloy: She knew Elisabet Sobeck. Seems to think helping me is honoring her in some way. She was willing to share information on both Sylens’ plans and the other Zeniths.
Alva: But you still don’t trust her. Where I come from, the more valuable the knowledge shared, the higher the price extracted. I’d be careful if I were you, Aloy.
-
Aloy: I suppose you saw that Tilda is here. Our very own Zenith.
Alva: I almost went up to her. To ask her, well, every question I’ve ever had about the Legacy. Every Diviner I know would kill to get five minutes with one of the Old Ones. But now that she’s here, all I feel is a vague unease. I don’t know if I’m scared of finding out more uncomfortable truths, or just scared of her. Probably both.
-
Aloy: Did you meet Tilda?
Kotallo: There is something about her that doesn’t seem natural. I wouldn’t be surprised if my sword went through her, and she didn’t bleed at all.
Aloy: Honestly, with her, nothing would surprise me.
-
Aloy: And try not to mess with Tilda while you’re here, okay? I don’t need the two of you butting heads.
Sylens: Ah, yes. About your Zenith ally - I wonder if you understand what kind of person you’re dealing with. For someone to live as long as she has, outlast as many calamities… Well, your goals may be aligned now, but I’d watch for the moment they diverge.
Aloy: Yeah, I’m aware. Reminds me of someone else I know.
Sylens: Survival is only a necessity to my greater purpose, Aloy. I’d hoped you recognized that by now.
Aloy: Do you know something or not?
Sylens: Oh, I know a great deal of things. But on this, just call it… a feeling.
Aloy: Oh, a feeling? You mean you finally had one? Huh. Guess even you can change, Sylens.
TILDA
Idle dialogue
There you are.
Stay as long as you like. I don’t mind the company.
Your friend out there - the Oseram. He is quite loud.
I thought this place could use a little art.
I trust everything is all right?
Conversation
Tilda: Well done, Aloy. Despite my reservations, you managed to secure Sylens and his weapon. You’re truly a shining example of Lis’ fortitude.
Aloy: I’ve been thinking about what you said at your house. How you were friends with Elisabet. It was more than that, wasn’t it?
Tilda: Perceptive as ever. You’re right. We were together for a time.
Aloy: Okay… so what happened?
Tilda: I was an orphan. I had always been alone. By my thirties, I was starting to wonder if that was simply my fate in life. Then I met Lis. We kept running into each other at conferences. We’d have coffee. At some point it became drinks. I thought it was just shop talk, an exchange of ideas. But then I was surprised at how much I looked forward to seeing her. Soon we were flying halfway across the world every other week just to meet up. For the first time, I didn’t feel lonely. I could imagine a future where I wasn’t. I think Lis felt the same way, at first. She had lost her mother a few years back. I filled a void for her. I know I did. But as time passed, it seemed as though she wanted less when I wanted more. And so we ended things.
Aloy: So, helping me… restoring Elisabet’s dream… it’s what, a--
Tilda: A second chance, yes. I made a mistake, leaving Earth while Lis stayed behind. I should’ve done more. So when I saw you… a woman who has carved her own remarkable path, beyond even what made Lis a phenomenon… I knew I had to help you. To do right by her.
YOUR TIME WITH THE ZENITHS
Aloy: You said before that you’re not like the other Zeniths. That you never were. But you went along with all of their plans.
Tilda: Out of necessity. I’m not proud of it, but complicity became a means of survival. Both when Earth was consumed, and when the colony on Sirius was destroyed. I did what I had to. But I resolved to remain one step ahead of the others. To try to undo what damage I could. Hence, the Data Channel with Beta. The secret passage into their base. And the little trick I pulled to save you.
WHAT’S IN THE ZENITH BASE?
Aloy: When it’s time to break into the Zenith base, what can we expect?
Tilda: I’ll go over the full layout once you’ve assembled your friends. Suffice it to say, we will need to push as fast as possible to Beta and GAIA’s location, dealing with heavy resistance along the way. There are also printing facilities, where the others have been amassing the natural resources they’ve stripped from the region.
Aloy: What for?
Tilda: First, for use in the base’s infrastructure, and then to fabricate more Specter drones - a small army of them. In addition, they’ve also been ferrying materials to and from our ship in orbit. After hundreds of years luxuriating in our digital comforts, the ship was barely space-worthy when we made our escape. Disaster can strike at any moment. We’ve learned our lesson.
SYLENS’ WEAPON
Aloy: Have you figured out how Sylens’ weapon works?
Tilda: No, and he’s been very careful not to allow me near it. I’ll admit it bothers me. But regardless of how it functions… I am confident it will deactivate the others’ shields en masse.
Aloy: How many of them are in the base?
Tilda: Ten, including Erik and Gerard. Only a handful of us made it to our ship when our colony collapsed.
THE OTHER ZENITHS - ERIK
Aloy: So… Erik. Was he always a bloodthirsty psychopath?
Tilda: I believe he got worse over time. On Earth, he was the founder of a profitable private military company - a band of cutthroats, in other words. Even as governments abandoned human combatants in favor of automated warfare… He found success with clientele that required a more… personal touch. There were also rumors that he personally hunted and killed his targets, on occasion - all for the thrill of it. But on Sirius, he retreated to virtual reality simulations. In them, he could go on rampages as violent as he pleased, though I suspect with diminishing satisfaction.
Aloy: Alva’s tribe believes he was one of the greatest people from the Old World.
Tilda: Then they would be quite disappointed to meet him. Though I’m sure he’d bask in the adoration.
THE OTHER ZENITHS - GERARD
Aloy: What can you tell me about Gerard?
Tilda: He was the head of the world’s largest financial conglomerate, and as such had dealings with almost every major corporation. It made him one of the wealthiest people on Earth, and certainly the wealthiest among Far Zenith.
Aloy: What does one person do with that much money?
Tilda: Buy more. More power, more influence. Gerard’s always believed himself to be a refined patrician, able to maintain control with a polished smile. But beneath that exterior is a cold and calculating operator. It was his decision to restrict Beta’s upbringing to her digital educators, the avatars of the APOLLO database… While we were painted as her ‘benefactors.’
Aloy: Well, we’ll deal with him soon enough. And the others.
Tilda: I would very much like to see his face when he realizes we’ve beaten him.
THE OTHER ZENITHS - VERBENA
Aloy: When Beta escaped and hid in an ancient research facility, I saw another one of the Zenths - Verbena. Who was she?
Tilda: A dull star amidst a sea of brighter constellations. Unlike most of Far Zenith’s members, who amassed their wealth through shrewd business deals and technological achievements… Verbena inherited her billions. Her father had achieved great success in the luxury holotourism industry. At age twenty-four, she became the world’s most eligible bachelorette, branding herself a ‘life designer.’ Someone who leverages their fame to influence the choice of others.
Aloy: What, like a cult?
Tilda: In a way, yes.
Aloy: Well… she must’ve done something right to have survived this long.
Tilda: She was her own brand of ruthless, that much is true. But even rats can cling to a vessel for escape.
THE OTHER ZENITHS - STANLEY CHEN
Aloy: When I was in the ruins of Vegas, I found data on a man named Stanley Chen. I think he was a Zenith.
Tilda: Stanley. Ever the optimist. He was one of the good ones. When we established our colony, he built an exact replica of Las Vegas in virtual reality. Lights, shows, gambling… every detail, perfectly re-created. And while others cloistered themselves in their own fantasies, he flung his doors wide to everyone.
Aloy: The way you’re talking about him, I’m guessing he didn’t make it back to Earth?
Tilda: No. He perished when our colony was destroyed. He would have been thrilled to discover that part of his beloved city survived.
THE OTHER ZENITHS - THE REST OF THEM
Aloy: Okay, so I’ve had run-ins with a handful of Zeniths. What about the rest?
Tilda: An array of the wealthiest people on Earth. Titans of their industries.
Aloy: And let me guess, all selfish and ruthless to the core?
Tilda: Most, but not all. There were a few with whom I got along. Anika Moorjani, for instance, was always delightful. She founded the holonet’s most successful dance channel, and was herself mesmerizing to watch. And I had fascinating discussions with Song Jiao about her work in cellular biology. Our immortality treatments are due in part to her achievements. But then there were others, like Devin Miller, the CEO of a fast-food printing corporation. His only real preoccupations were perfecting his golf swing and taking self-holos. When I think about all of us… we really should’ve accomplished more. We had eternity.
YOU AND ELISABET
Aloy: Why do you think Elisabet pulled away?
Tilda: I’ve wondered that for a thousand years. She was brilliant, a visionary. She cared so deeply for the world, for the betterment of humanity. But it also felt like she kept everyone at arm’s length, including me. She never wanted to share her burdens. I think… in the end, she had a core that she never let anyone be part of. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really knew her.
Aloy: I found a recording of you and Elisabet back in the Proving Lab. After Far Zenith’s attempt to steal GAIA.
Tilda: Yes. A most unpleasant conversation.
Aloy: She said something after the call. I think she regretted how things ended between you.
Tilda: Did she? All this time… Thank you for telling me. I’ve always hated that those were the last words we ever said to each other. And that her last impression of me was as a functionary of Far Zenith - not who I truly am.
THAT’S ALL FOR NOW
Aloy: Okay. I’ll let you know when it’s time.
Tilda: I’ll be here until then. And thank you, Aloy. For giving me this chance. My past has always been a struggle. More than once I’ve lost everything. But when I look to the future… I see Lis’ dream fulfilled. A universe of new possibilities.
Aloy: Maybe we can make it happen.
Tilda: We will. I won’t let anything get in the way, I promise you that.
Aloy, Pendant Monologue, after Tilda’s Conversation:
Elisabet and Tilda had a history. The more I learn about her life, the more complicated it seems. I guess she saw something good in Tilda. I don’t know what, exactly, but it seems like it was enough… for a while, at least.
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𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍
𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | ❝In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he know the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.❞
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2310;
Genre: friends to lovers;
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. The first chapter is set before the events of the first season. Friends with benefits — so, it'll be eventual smut (like, a lot!)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: English isn't my natives language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.
━━━━ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑
Some men's whish the glory, others crawl like snakes by power and there is those who live like rats in the system. However, there is a exception — and his names is Levi Ackerman. Emerged from the underground, by dust and blood, forged as a weapon at an early age and steeped in pride, he raised as humanity's strongest soldier. He carries a doctrine, imbedded in his bones: he serves to humanity, the balance and the freedom of mankind. If there is a threat, he is the man who can fight against it, ranging from cruel people to evil titans.
He was born in cruel times and did his best to survive in the Underground. He found a glory he wasn't looking for. Something many wish to through their lives, but which, for him, was irrelevant. They all bleed, they all are stuck on the Walls and share the same ended chapter: the death. The final outcome is not defined by possessions, achievements or privileges in life. The only difference was that could get death any easier and painless. Levi was not a hypocrite: he would rather a peaceful death, lying on his bed, instead of being eaten by a titan.
He rather — and is all what it is. It wasn't like if he had any choice. The Ackerman's family were designed to protect the people and to fight. They were cursed with a power. Some people could say it is a miracle in dark times. Others would argue that mans were corrupted, cruel and too ambitious to deal with that awakened power. Well, Levi knows, that no everyone were worthy to possess such ability — Kenny, that asshole, was one of them.
However, there was kind strange situation. An only exception, an affliction that hung over through the heart and maddened his mind: you.
Desire wasn't a word enough to define how he feels close to you, a fearless female warrior, who destroy each barrier he has built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of you hurt. Levi knew he would have taken a checkmate just by desiring you.
But when it all starts? He couldn't say with sure. Maybe, when he, Farlan and Isabel were recruited by the Survey Corps, and you were the only one who spoke to them without undriveable mock and trial. You, besides Erwin, didn't seem to care where they came from. As deeply loyal as you were to your comrades, you didn't depend on your interactions with them for take a direction — you were content to follow your own passions and desires without input from anyone else.
Maybe it started when he saw you in battle or an a argue with a member of Military Police Regiment. Fear is not in yours's vocabulary when you are on the battlefield or when you are speaking her mind to others.
As their partnership grew, he'd find some similarities between you, but also many differences.
You, just like him, has little patience for any form of prose or riddles when you are communicating with others. You speak bluntly and without pretense, and expects others to do the same, prefers to get to the point and doesn’t seek to romanticize your expectations or intentions. You also are focused on the present issues and what role you can play in protecting the people that you love, what can prevent you from seeing the future results of your present actions and, unlike him, does result in some impulsive and risky — yet brave— actions.
All these little things over the years, made him fall in love with you, and Levi had ways to say it without saying "I love you".
Like that night.
He wasn't hiding his disgust face when handed you a cup full of that steaming, black liquid; the simply smelling coffee could make your stomach turn, but still, he prepares a cup for you every night.
As the second in the command, you have spent several evenings together conducting the next advances of the squadron. So, there you are, sitting next to him, eyes focused on the paper, turning the pen between your fingers and... biting your lower lip.
Occasionally, almost instinctively Levi raises his eyes to you. Being so close of you was it's a unique feeling. The smell of your perfume as stunning, and his throat closes around the words he would like to say. The tension that has been brought in was too dangerous for someone like him.
Fucking woman, fucking lips. Fuck you!
''Is there a problem?'', you inquired making eye contact for the first time that night. He couldn't say if there was perversion when you wet your own lips, but Levi felt his muscles become tense and contracted when you made it.
Levi responded with a faint whimper before observed: ''You shouldn't be drinking so much coffee at this time. You look like shit when don't get sleep''.
Lie. Fucking hell, you're always beautiful, but no way he'd say what he thought.
You rolled your eyes. ''It's you who did'', you put forth.
''I wasn't in the mood to put up with a brat attitude from you.''
''Brat? You know that we have about the same age, don't you?'', your gaze traveled from the figure sat in front of you to the window, confused as to why you would be embarrassed about his presence. You took in a breath before adding: ''Anyway, don't want sleep.''
There was a pause for a few seconds. You and he eyed each other.
''Why?'', he asks, authoritative one.
You shrugged and shook your head firmly. ''It doesn't matter.''
''If it doesn't matter, why would I have asked that?''
"Cause you're snooper”, you smirked.
''I'm not a snooper, brat."
He felt his heart begin to quicken when you carried the pen to your lips and start biting.
"Yes, you are a horrible snooper old man, bossy and with an astonishing mania for cleanliness."
"Old? You know we have about the same age”; he repeats. His eyes drifted back to your face, noticing your gaze had shifted again to the woods beyond the window. "And you're avoiding the question", he softly says (at least as softy as he could be), interrupting your rampant thoughts. "Are you alright?"
Levi watches in silence as you'd shoulders slump.
"I can't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being evil, although I always thought that one day it'd get better", you're voice was low and flat, quiet and a little sad as you spoke to Levi, who seemed to know what are you exactly referred to and only nodded at your words. "I feel guilty. All the time."
Even in the darkness the room held, your eyes find his greys one like the starlight's.
''Are you afraid of your dreams, too?'', you asked, never expecting the humanity strongest soldier to have any fears.
'Yes'', he said quietly.
You nodded with hesitation, his words repainting in your head as you struggled to forma a sentence to answered.
Levi was used to such sadness, he had month's — no, years — to griever over the deaths of his mother and friends. Death was not uncommon thing in his life. His childhood who should be carefree, playing in the sun, was like a living nightmare, learning to fight in the darkness of Underground. Later, when he left the place to join the Survey Corps, he accepted to live in that never ending tragedy that people had sadly grown used to. Death was more common in that job than anything else, and he knows how badly it fuck with his mind.
“I’m beginning to think we’re a lot alike… you and me. We’re both strange cast, who’ve learned to fight when we’re backed into a corner'', you began weakly.
''Well, we’re backed into a corner now. Two fucking insomniacs”, he shook his head, thinking about your words. He didn't seem to like the way your voice sounded sadder. You raised your eyes to him again as he slowly spoke: ''You're not alone''
You answered a tiny smile onto your lips. Levi felt his cheeks burn and opposite glanced to your empty coffee cup, thinking that he'll able to always tolerate your strange addiction.
A few second later you both went back to work, and Levi was left with words stuck, temptation planted in the mind and a sure thing for him: the insomniac nights would become better by you.
【 ━━ 】
Inside Wall Sheena, guests were arriving, among them five members of the Scout Regiment - consisting mostly of commanders - walked through the gates, exuding self-confidence, bitter to participate in that boring and stupid meeting.
Little lies, little social sacrifices to feed what kept the Scout Regiment going: funding.
It was not necessary to be an expert in politics to see beyond the traditional veil of those events, to perceive the intentions of certain parliamentarians, very sadistic. Knowing it was part of your job to relate to these kinds of people annoyed you.
For one minute, you saw out of the corner of your eyes, the first on your command. The man of grey eyes used a black suit that fits perfectly. Be present in an event with so many politics didn't seem to his liking. Was kind of hard for all of you play nice one with all this tension in the air.
You've never felt the feeling of fear and tension like that inside the Walls before.
''Stop frowning before you break your face''
'It would be so sad, and you would cry for being depriving of that beautiful face''
''Oh, fuck yourself'', he says, angrily.
''If you watch''
You smirched at his expression as he looks up to you, after seeing your face, he turns away.
''Watch your words, brat''
''Or what, old man? What will you do to me?''
He looks back up at you.
''I could break you habit of drinking coffee, put you to clean all the HQ or even to help Hange with the experiments. The three together seems good, by the way''
You roll your eyes.
''You're mean''
'You're annoying'', he replied. ''And you know, if you keep rolling your eyes one day their going to get stuck like that''
''Are you trying to be funny?''
His little grin showed up making you roll eyes into a smile. He was terribly bossy and annoying, but you like that about him.
You took the glass of wine to your lips and raised your eyes to hit his. Levi hovered over you, making you felt that flame into your heart once more. Your eyes tailed down to Levi's lips then back to his eyes. You could feel your heart beating recklessly.
Fucking grey eyes, fucking black suit. Fuck you!
You felt a thumb on your cheeks, making them burn.
''You look...'', he started whispered and slightly caress your cheeks. Your body started to get hot under his soft touch. ''... beautiful. You look beautiful''
You were speechless.
You liked the sudden ardor, of the dangerous attraction, of folly and frivolous with provocative sins. Liked and thought how the taste of his lips would be: the indomitable, the irresistible, the powerful and sin.
He slowly dragged his hand down to my thorax wrapping his hands around it. A soft gasp escaped of your lips.
''You know... If you want dance, it'll not rude to ask'', you try to say. ''The song is awful, but I'm not a demanding partner''
''Only if you don’t step on my foot''
His prepotency make you smile.
''Don’t be a bad partner and there will be no mistakes'', you retorted, making him raised one of the eyebrows. ''That's how a men should behave next to a woman''
He took you in his arms, abruptly, making the bodies collide with intensity. You gasped, very close to Levi's ears, who felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Leading you through music, in no second was the look averted, in a battle for unknown control.
You and Levi explored a unique experience.
He stares burned deep into your body. His touch on your skin made your body tingle.
Fuck, control yourself. Don't get turned on by him!
He didn't say anything, just left you hold into him. You could feel your body burning around him. What was he doing to you? It felt like a spell. The effect of sin, of desire. You should get rid of that, all you needed least were distractions in the workplace and ruin the friendship, trust and partnership that you two took so long to build.
However, both keep looking to each other longer than friends should. Longer than friends should...
He could saw you lost inside your mind. Slowly, he pulled down his fingers, lazily touching the skin of your exposed back by the dress. Levi's vision was blinded by the desire his image represented. The surroundings smelled wine and fruits, intoxicating his sense. The ears, doomed to hear the political bullshit. His tact could burn by touching you. His taste? It was dangerous, because wanted to discover the taste of your lips and body.
But not now, not here.
You are his friend — the only who was left. In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he knew the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.
To hell all of that. When you both got back, he'll fucked you, every way that he can thinking off. He wants to pound into you, slammed into you and give the best night that you ever have. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.
''Good girl'', he whispers next to your ears. ''But I'll show you how true men should behave next to a woman when we get back''
#aot x reader#attack on titan imagine#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman imagine#levi x you#levi smut#levi ackerman series#attack on titan fanfiction
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Percy Jackson: The Last Olympian first reading thoughts:
-I didnt sleep reading this but it was totally worth it!!
-Danm this was soo good!
-From the start things get heavy, Backendorf's death hurt me way more than I expected.
-I loved the entire part in Poseidon's castle, very interesting (and Tyson is here!)
-Wow Nico has changed so much since the begining (also his powers are very cool)
-To see the story of Luke and his mother uncover was hard to read, so tragic, I was at the verge of tears in many parts.
-It all came full circle, now the things Luke said in the first books make so much sense, you can see what drove him to those extreme ideas.
-And I love how Percy starts to change his inicial perception of things too. That is I think a very admirable part of him. Even if he is a very stubborn boy, he is willing to try and change his mind.
-But even more so Annabeth, she is so empathic despite her critical thinking, and I love that of her. She is truly so wise, even so young she realizes that she needs both the power of the heart AND mind. To almost the last second she holds on to her heart and that doesn't meant she stops being smart.
-Amazing to see the Underworld again, and Hades, and Persephone!
-Achilles's ghost, nice.
-Percy thinking of Annabeth in the river to survive STOP I LOVE THEM (Also dont think I didn't notice him constantly getting distracted with how pretty Annabeth looked)
-Very funny that whole interaction with Demeter, Persephone and Hades, and it was interesting to see how Nico tries to fit in there.
- I really thought we wouldnt get the chance to see Hestia and we did! And I loved how she was represented, as the hope that comes from the concep of home and how that parallels the gods and Olympus being the source of their power.
-I would have liked to see more of the gods fighting Typhon but I I looved the full focus on the battle defending Olympus.
-No, really, that entire battle was soo fricking cool. It took so much of the book and I adored every second. I could feel them getting cornered by Kronos, the progressive tiredness every time a new attack happens.
-Wow so much happens!
-Ok, I think my favorite parts were:
-THALIA!! Gods I missed her, It was so exciting to have her back and fighting.
-The automatons??? How cool is that??
-Percy provoking the Minotaur in such a cocky way, damn my boy has grown.
-Prometheus. Loved everything, such a fun antagonic character.
-Grover and his cool powers with nature turning a titan into a tree, AMAZING
-Percy chasing a gigant flying pig around New York.
-The centaurs coming to the rescue
-Dionysus using a party to manifest, so interesting and cool (nice of him to ask about his son)
-Percy referring to both his mom and Paul as "his parents"
-The battle with the dragon, everything felt so epic. Silena's sacrifice was so tragic, and Clarisse using her anger to kill the dragon, epic.
-"I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?" Damn Clarisse...
-Hades, Demeter and Persephone coming to the fight!!!
-I was kinda hoping Luke could survive, but I guess his death was necessary. It was equally hearbreaking and beautiful. His sacrifice just made everything circle back in a true greek tragedy tale style.
-Again, with the impecable development of Percy. "You are not the hero" *cheff kiss.
-And again, Annabeth understanding eveything before eveyone else.
-To see all the gods reunited again was amazing
-YES GROVER MY BRAVE BOY YOU DESERVE THE WORLD
-And Tyson! I'm so happy for him, (I just hope he never has to actually fight)
-And Annabeth!! My dear girl will be architect of Olympus, I was about to cry, I'm so happy for her.
-Percy, I was not expecting him to ask that to the gods and I love him even more now. I knew some day his ability to defy the gods with a straight face would be used for a greater good. And damn he deliver. Again, everything full circle, what a good ending.
-Rachel is the Oracle now, cool. And I loved to see Apollo there, amazing.
-Another prophecy????
-PERCABETH PERCABETH PERCABETH!!! OMG FINALLY
-I swear they are the most adorable thing ever, the underwater kiss... :')
-Well that was fricking beautiful
-I loved this book and this series with my soul, an aboslute beauty of a story, everything was like a dream come true and I'm so happy I got to read it while I wasnt busy.
-What a journey, loved every second, I felt like a little kid again. 100/10
-You bet I'm reading EVERYTHING else from this franchise.
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FAN THEORY THURSDAY: Is Minion the Real Hero?
It’s that time again… SPOILER WARNING!
We all know that Megamind becomes a hero by the end of the film—that’s basically the point of the plot, after all—but is he really the only hero? Many argue, with good reason, that the answer is no. This is not meant to discount Megamind’s turn around and selfless actions, of course, but rather to illustrate that, like most successful people, he didn’t do it alone.
I’m referring, as many may have already guessed, to Minion. In fact, the aquatic henchman’s contributions are so great that some have argued he is the real hero of the story. This is for several reasons, the first of which is rather obvious: Minion is the one who, disguised as Megamind, rescues Roxanne, helps fight Titan, and distracts the incel-turned-villain long enough for the real Megamind to put his plan into action. (Presumably, Megamind needed someone to buy him sufficient time to return to Wayne’s hideout and scan the former hero’s likeness and voice into his holowatch.) Minion does this despite the danger, and in fact nearly dies keeping Roxanne safe, showing that he has a truly heroic heart.
This, however, is not the only way in which Minion displays the selfless concern for other that is the hallmark of a heroic heart. Upon seeing the destruction of his home town on the news, Minion is the one who swallows his hurt following he and Megaminds argument, returns to Metro City at significant personal risk, and breaks Megamind out of prison so that the blue alien can defeat Titan. Given both this and his aforementioned role in the fight, it’s not an exaggeration to say that the city wouldn’t have been saved without Minion’s help.
That’s not all. The aquatic henchman makes Megamind’s turn from supervillain to superhero possible in other, smaller ways as well. There is the fact that he always supports his friend, from helping him with his schemes to apparently returning after there argument and completing the Black Mamba. (You can read about the latter in the post What’s Hidden in the Animation?) Furthermore, one fan theory states that the psychological effect Minion has on Megamind is vital to the blue man’s turnaround. Minion is more than a helper or an employee; he is Megamind’s lifelong friend. Constantly amicable and upbeat, he is likely the only positive influence his companion had throughout much of his life. The bond between the two is obvious, with teasing, cheerful banter, and even occasional pet names (such as Fantastic Fish) being regular features. Indeed, Megamind even refers to the fish as his “best friend.” Clearly their relationship is deep and sincere, and many fans suppose that that helped Megamind hold onto an innate kindness and empathy, allowing him to care about the people around him. Without that, he might never have stepped into the role of Metro City’s Defender. Given the fact that he was disdained and distrusted from an early age by most of the people around him, Megamind could have easily fallen into hardened bitterness if he had not had a companion to care about.
Finally, there is the simple fact that Minion truly does care for Megamind, literally as well as emotionally. (And, yes, I know that doesn’t sound very heroic, but hear me out.) Although we never see Minion cooking or tidying during the movie, a widely accepted fan theory is that he is the one who keeps the Lair clean, supplied, and running smoothly while his friend focuses almost solely on the calculations, schematics, chemistry, and engineering involved in creating his inventions.
Indeed, by this point the majority of the fandom has agreed that Minion is an excellent chef as well as a quintessential Mom Friend. (Minion’s culinary creations could put Michelin Star restaurants to shame, and you can’t convince us otherwise!) These suppositions are not without basis. While we never see Minion in the kitchen, he does have a “Kiss the Cook” apron—something one would hardly expect a person with no interest in culinary pursuits to own. In the film, he is also the only one we ever see providing Megamind with food—once with coffee and donuts, and once with churros—indicating that part of his job may be ensuring the blue genius eats something now and then. We know Minion makes Megamind’s clothing—refer again to the Black Mamba—and we also see Minion doing laundry in the post credit scene, further illustrating his role of domestic caretaker. Then there is, of course, the fact that, at the beginning of the movie, Megamind’s mother literally informs her infant son that Minion “will take care of you.” Finally, in the Megamind comics, Minion is clearly portrayed as cleaning the Lair, running errands, and performing other necessary chores.
So what does all this have to do with heroism? It’s simple, really: Minion’s support once allowed Megamind to focus on being a supervillain, and presumably serves the same essential function now that the blue man is the Defender of Metro City. The henchfish is basically Alfred to Megamind’s Bat Man—a parallel that a Bat Signal-like beacon seen at the end of the short Megamind and the Button of Doom hints may not be coincidental. Like the Dark Knight, Megamind has no superpowers, relying instead upon fighting skills, intelligence, and a plethora of really cool gadgets. But inventing and maintaining all of those crime-fighting tools would take time, making Minion’s role vital to Megamind’s success. If the blue hero had to dedicate part of every day to things like cooking, house keeping, and laundry, along with the patrols, investigations, and battles that presumably make up the bulk of hero work, he wouldn’t have enough hours left over for designing, creating, and repairing the things necessary to do his job. Minion’s role, therefore, while not glamorous, is undeniably important. Fans theorize that Minion makes it possible for Megamind to be a the Defender in the first place, making the fishy sidekick an unsung hero in his own right.
So, while Megamind is the Defender of Metro City, and certainly performs acts of heroism starting with his defeat of Titan and continuing in the comics, he doesn’t do it alone. He needs Minion to help him be the best he can be. Indeed, the two of them are a team, and neither could successfully protect their home town without the other. This means that Minion is, at the very least, Megamind’s sidekick, but many fans argue that his role is even greater than that. Minion is, according to several fan theories, just as much a hero as his blue friend.
#Megamind#Minion#hero#Megamind movie#Megamind fan theory#fan theory#Fan Theory Thursday#fan theories#henchman#sidekick#superhero
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Considering the new lore established in the novelization, don’t you think Goji was a bit of a dick for also being responsible for the near-extinction of the Kongs? Or do you think he did it by no choice, after he failed to establish peace with Kong’s species without starting a war?
Mmmmm, no. I don’t think he’s a dick for it. For context, the excerpt from the book (Jia’s signing it, she’s reciting an Iwi legend. Long Ago Below = Hollow Earth, Zo-zla-halawa = Iwi name for Godzilla) says this:
“Zo-zla-halawa, he lived in the Long Ago Below, like Kong, like us. He ate a star there and it make him evil. He could throw rays of the star out of his mouth and burn things. So it was decided he could not live in the Long Ago Below. Iwi and Kong made made bonds of friendship. Become one people to fight Zo-zla-halawa. They fought for a long time, trying to make him leave. Something went wrong, I think? Someone broke a taboo, maybe. Anyway, Kong and Iwi traveled together in darkness until we reached the light of this place. We left all of the bad people behind, and Zo-zla-halawa, with his stomach star, too. There was peace for a while, but then some monsters followed us. The Skullcrawlers and some others. Kong’s parents fought them. So did Kong.”
Just to get it out of the way, it’s heavily implied that Goji’s powers/atomic breath was the result of him consuming some sort of ‘star’ that fell from the stars and now lives inside him. AKA The Big Dumb Lizard ate a fucking alien meteorite and gained superpowers. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard and I love it so much.
Anyways, yeah. This legend is obviously biased, because it’s an ancient Iwi story. (Calling Goji evil.) Honestly, it feels to me like the Kongs were the most advanced and powerful Titans at the time. So when Goji consumed the ‘star’, they felt their status was threatened by the power he now wielded and they wanted to kill him or drive him out before he could usurp them from the Alpha position. Unfortunately for them, apes are not fireproof and Goji has a lot of fire to spare.
I will say too, the mural showing the ancient rivalry stuff clearly had Mothra fighting on Goji’s side. It’s made explicitly clear that she is one of the more benevolent kaiju and upholds the same respect for balance that Goji does. It might be personal bias but I don’t believe Mothra would kill without reason or purpose, even more so than Goji. It’s also clear she can ignore Alpha calls (Leaving Ghidorah on read) and wouldn’t be forced to obey Goji if she didn’t feel that what he was doing was necessary/just. I’m not really sure what the ‘something went wrong/taboo’ part is referring to, but I’m sure someone smarter than me has ideas or an explanation.
So, even with the Iwi bias, I believe both sides were at fault in different ways. But was Goji the sole creature to blame? Certainly not. The Kong’s wanted to maintain their power, as those in positions of power often do when their control is threatened, and they paid dearly for it. Do I agree with almost all of Kong’s species being wiped out? Definitely not. (Another note, it wasn’t like Goji just mowed through Kongs and killed them all in on go, they clearly made a bunch of axes from his scutes and held their own.) It’s definitely a morally grey conflict that I’m not sure we’ll really be able to pick a true bad guy on.
TLDR; no, but also yes
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hello!! It's your relief story anon!!! i friken love what you wrote!!! may i have another request 🥺 similar to the relief story, Levi's s/o gets into a near death experience right in front of him and he freezes for the first time. everyone's super shocked abt it after the mission and he gets reprimanded just for formalities (erwin n hanji rlly just wanna check up on him personally) but they all understand since he's been through a lot. Levi can't deal with his emotions and he wants to say i love you to his s/o (first time saying it) but he doesn't know how and yes HAHAHAHA
- OMG HI AGAIN ! IM SO HAPPY THAT YOU ENJOYED IT THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!! thank you again not only for requesting that, but also for requesting again, it’s so awesome when u guys come back and request more :) plus your ideas are always so great. i had a lot of fun writing this, i hope u enjoy <3 (and i got your second message tysm for adding it ! i tried to include as much fluff as possible but my dumb brain always defaults to angst hahaha)
how to say i love you
- levi ackerman x reader
warnings: season 2 and ova spoilers (if you haven’t watched the ova’s yet they’re on youtube but this only references ‘a choice with no regrets’ aka levi’s ova)
levi has never had...feelings for anyone before.
the romantic kind, of course. he's felt plenty of things towards people on a regular basis—anger. hate. disgust. confusion. annoyance. frustration.
to be fair he has had the occasional friend, or the occasional person who he respected, and others who he flat out wanted to protect. just never anything romantic.
this didn’t bother him, falling in love wasn’t his top priority or anything. his life has been one traumatic experience after the other. there was no time for him to be romantically involved with another, nor was he willing to take the risk of potential heartbreak that would add to his constantly growing list of traumatic events.
when he first met y/n l/n he acknowledged her as nothing more than another member of the survey corps. someone he would work with. someone he would train with. someone who he would give orders to if deemed necessary. someone who would join his team. someone he would slowly become more curious about. someone who would bring him feelings that he couldn't describe in words.
his plans had clearly gone astray.
y/n was supposed to be nothing more than a colleague, but somehow fate had much more in store. the young girl began to appear more and more in his life and before he could even process it, she was already apart of his team.
now that the they were spending almost everyday together, along with the rest of his team, levi had the opportunity to try to solve the mystery that was y/n.
there was something that he felt about her that he couldn't put into words. the way she was determined to save humanity and her friends, the way she poured everything she had into everything she did, the way she was strong in every aspect of the word, the way she got along with the rest of the team, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she spoke, the way she moved, all of it. it all encapsulated him.
what is this emotion ? fascination ? curiosity ? these words weren’t completely right, but they safe enough for him to settle on for now.
yes, that's all. the brat just makes me curious because i don't understand her.
at least, that's what he told himself. but the tingles that remained on his skin from the place where she accidentally brushed up against him or the way his stomach felt after his eyes met hers or the way he noticed himself always wanting to be near her or the way he wanted to protect her more than anything in the world, said otherwise.
whatever message he wanted to send probably definitely was not passed on. when y/n accidentally brushed up against him he snapped back "watch it." when she made eye contact with him, it was more her meeting his eyes and him seemingly glaring back. when he took a few steps towards her to be closer, she felt paranoid, wondering if he was determining whether or not he should scold her for something. when she was on missions and he occasionally had to step in and save her tail, she felt like she was slacking.
truthfully in all these situations levi just resorted back to his true nature. he never meant any harm so clearly he wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings. henceforth, the three word phrase was foreign to him.
after all the many challenges that came with trying to understand each other, the couple finally got together. but despite being together, neither had said the 'L word’ yet.
to be honest, y/n hadn’t dwelled on it too much. she had learned the best way to survive mentally was to live in the moment. when the time would come, the time would come, however, the thought that time wasn’t a guarantee gnawed at the back of her brain. she always wondered how levi felt about the matter, but never got around to asking. little did he know he’d once again find out for himself that time wasn’t a guarantee.
just like every other day, y/n awoke to levi placing a kiss on her forehead. he wished nothing more than to let the love of his life sleep late into the morning in their shared bed, safe from the dangers of the world, but there was another mission today in which he needed her by his side.
the plan was to head to the outskirts of wall rose to a forest that was known to be surrounded by titans. hanji convinced erwin to let her try to capture titans in the forest again, as it all but worked on the female titan. erwin agreed, not only because he too believed the survey corps had all the materials necessary to capture titans again, but also because he knew the scouts needed more real time practice in the forest. levi wasn’t happy to hear the commander refer to this as “practice,” since so many lives were guaranteed to be lost in the process, but there was nothing he could do about it.
with everyone’s approval and the preparations complete, they were off. the ride there had been as close to smooth sailing as possible, with erwin successfully rerouting the troops to avoid as many unnecessary collisions with titans as possible and a surprisingly low amount of abnormals in their path. but everyone knew the real problems would be up ahead.
in this area, the titans were mainly surrounding the thick trees in the forest. it wasn’t too far from the forest where they encountered the female titan so the layout of the jungle was fairly similar. a large path ran straight through the trees, leaving the scouts lots of opportunities.
before the forest itself came into view, the hoard otherworldly creatures showed up. the crowd of titans didn’t seem to be too bad, with none surpassing ten meters. a bit of the outer edges of the formation took a hit, but everyone else made it into the woods unscathed.
unlike the last time levi’s squad was in the forest, their objective was not to be the bait. instead, they were to take to the trees and be on clean up duty. it was a little different from their normal clean up duty, as they weren’t doing chores around the castle or cabin—they were eliminating stray titans. the survey corps was only prepared to capture two titans, so any others that entered needed to be exterminated.
they weren’t the only ones with this job, but erwin placed them as the last hoop the titans had to get through before they were captured. any titans that escaped the first few groups were more likely than not going to be challenging, so they needed to be left with the most talented squad.
the eight scouts that made up levi’s squad traveled the path that cut through the forest until they found the four trees in which they were to set up camp. levi and jean were on the first tree, armin and sasha on the one across from them, connie and mikasa on the next, and y/n and eren on the fourth. the formation placed y/n and levi diagonal from each other so they could each defend half of the younger scouts in their squad if necessary, as well as had the team in pairs that weren’t often together for even more practice.
the ground rumbled beneath the group as they looked down to see the first wave of soldiers acting as bait pass through. after some time and a few more waves, including hanji and erwin who were in charge of the traps, everyone passed through and the titans came into sight.
the ground troops had all reported that no abnormals or titans above ten meters made it in so they all relaxed—or relaxed as one can be when they’re facing man-eating giants. levi recognized the last troop passing through and gave his second in command a nod which she returned, letting everyone else know it was show time.
the rumbling of the ground from the horses before was nothing compared to that of the titans. not counting the first two, there were nine titans in all. everyone gave a silent thanks to the squads who had narrowed down the hoard before it arrived to them.
finally, the first two titans ran past the trees levi’s squad was hidden in, chasing the ground troops. with a loud “now !” from levi, the rest of them deployed from their hiding places. thanks to the squad’s impeccable teamwork and countless hours of training in forests closer to home, the remaining seven titans were taken out without a hitch. y/n couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she watched her team improve with every mission and it was obvious they all felt the same way. the way they beamed and had to hold back their celebration was as a clear as day.
the team regrouped, with y/n checking the younger members for any life threatening wounds and levi double checking all the titans were taken care of. she had just finished examining sasha when levi came back and announced the next step of today’s plan. everyone was to head forward to meet the other troops and aid in getting the titans back to the walls. although the titans may be secured, there were still infinite possibilities for catastrophes that could happen so they needed all the backup they could get. the young cadets nodded in agreement then followed after levi as he took to the sky, with y/n tailing the rest of the group. if y/n and levi weren’t side by side during missions, this was always the formation everyone fell into. levi led the way, protecting the front of the party, and she acted as the caboose to make sure no one got left behind as well as to protect them from the back.
after a few failed tricks from eren as he tried to show off with his gear and a quick scolding from levi, the rest of the scouts came into view. the mission appeared to be a success. the final two titans were both apprehended, one nailed to the ground and the other bound in the air.
squad levi landed and began to greet everyone but didn’t get very far when hanji’s squeals flooded everyone’s ears.
the scientist was practically bouncing up and down as she came over. “squad levi ! all in one piece, i see. let me show you what we’ve done,” she gushed, ushering all of them towards the titans.
it was no surprise she was so excited. she had been waiting for this day to arrive for ages, but levi still gave a quick “tch,” under his breath out of annoyance which forced y/n to cover her mouth with her palm to stifle a laugh.
the eight, now nine, of them cranned their necks up to see the side of the beast that was hammered into the ground. the sight would’ve been cruel if it were anything other than a titan, but remembering all the pain they’ve brought to each one of them, no one did so much as bat an eye. returning the focus back to hanji, everyone watched as she took a sharp inhale to prepare for her long ramble about how everything worked. lucky for y/n, before hanji could exhale, levi grabbed his partner’s arm and pulled her away.
he pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear, “come on, let’s go find erwin.”
as much as she wanted to argue with him and tell him he was being mean, she really didn’t want to listen to hanji’s spiel that she had heard a million times over. a tiny pang of guilt struck y/n for leaving the other half of the squad behind forced to listen to her, but sometimes everyone has to take one for the team.
she threw a quick wave over her shoulder to the others, then followed levi, who was still holding her arm, as he dragged her through the crowd of other scouts who were just floating around, waiting for orders, until he finally spotted the commander.
the tall man’s eyes fell upon the pair and he drew himself away from whomever he was speaking with to come greet them.
“ah levi, y/n,” erwin began. levi’s expression stayed the same but y/n offered the man a small smile and wave which he returned with a nod. erwin was actually the one who recommended to levi that he should consider y/n to be apart of his squad, so she heavily credited him entirely with starting your relationship with levi (even if levi disagreed every time she told him this).
levi and erwin fell into formal conversation, discussing the remainder of the mission, which left y/n realizing levi hadn’t really saved her from a talk you’ve heard countless times before, but instead brought her into another one.
hanji’s rambling would have been more interesting than this she thought to yourself as she began lazily scanned the small sea of scouts scrambling around, looking for a way to entertain yourself until the two men were done talking. one group in particular caught her eyes.
the soldiers seemed to be much more jittery than everyone else. they frantically looked amongst each other and towards the titan that hanji had just finished showing the rest of levi’s squad, and seemed to be contemplating a solution to an unknown issue.
it was clear something was up.
just as she placed her hand on levi’s shoulder to bring his and erwin’s focus over to the scene, the ground began to shake, which caught their attention for her.
no one had time to react when dust flew up everywhere, obstructing everyone’s views so they couldn’t see where the loud crashes that followed came from. a strong force slammed into them, throwing them who knows how far into the air. the fear of hitting the ground barely had enough time to settle into y/n before everything went dark.
everyone in the vicinity had been sent flying into the air along, but levi was the first one to be up on his feet again. bringing his arms up to shield his eyes, he decided to stay where he was as the dust cleared so he could assess the situation and move on from there.
the scene finally came into view; he gathered that the titan had ripped its arm through the nails that secured it to the floor of the woods, then flailed it around in an attempt to grab people. it made a clean sweep in the area that he was previously standing—all that was left were debris and broken wood planks from the compartments that were attached to the other titan’s traps.
a wave of adrenaline passed through his body as he remembered who was with him. he needed to find not only erwin immediately, but also y/n. he reached down to grab the handles of his controller grip but froze instantly upon seeing what had just come into view as more of the dust cleared.
y/n was sprawled out on the ground, ODM gear tossed a few feet away from her body but more importantly, the titan’s hand was hovering mere meters above her.
his pulse almost quickened twicehold, but it felt as though it heart had stopped in his chest. situations like this presented themselves to levi almost everyday of his life, but this was much different. in those, he was almost two steps ahead. he knew that by now he should be wrapping his arms around y/n and pulling her to safety at breakneck speed, or even better, he should’ve shielded her from harm at the very beginning. but right now he couldn’t do so much as move his finger.
levi was completely inert—his arms felt like they being weighed down by a ball and chain, his legs felt like they had grown roots into the ground that planted in him place. his throat ran dry and his stomach felt like it had just done a flip. the rest of him went numb while shock consumed his body, physically and mentally, rendering him entirely helpless.
images of isabel, farlan, petra, oluo, eld, gunther, and countless others all flashed before him, the same running theme echoed in his mind—he wasn’t able to save them. all he had to do was pull back a single index finger. this would launch one of his anchors into the back of the titan’s neck, sending him flying to slice its nape. but he couldn’t do it. the only thing he knew he had the power to do was watch helplessly as his partner would be eaten alive.
the shouts of others flooded his ears as his senses slowly began to return to him, but it didn’t matter. he couldn’t make out a thing. frankly he wished he could so he could break away from the things that occupied his mind now. shame. guilt. humiliation. fear. regret. he took for granted every moment he had ever spent with y/n. every smile she gave him. every time he embraced her. every kiss. every conversation they shared under the stars while everyone else was fast asleep. every opportunity he had but failed to tell her that he—
before he finished his thought someone finally broke through his trance. erwin was the one who was able to crack the surface and bring him back to life.
the commander was shouting levi’s name, hoping, praying, to wake him up from whatever was going on in his head. levi was still unable feel his body, but he realized he was moving as the ground began to grow smaller. one of erwin’s strong arms hooked around levi’s middle and they were flying away from the chaos below. the commander spared a glance to levi to see the man’s eyes were still trained on y/n.
the feeling returned to levi’s body as he felt the pain of being thrown onto one of the thick tree branches surge through his body. not knowing how else to bring him back from the trance that wasn’t full broken, erwin had tossed off of him levi instead of placing him down gently.
he watched as levi scrambled up and expected him to yell back for throwing him, but the response was much different.
“where is she ??” levi demanded. his eyes may have been on y/n the whole time, but his mind was elsewhere replaying scenes from the past. he had no idea if she had been eaten, or even survived the initial attack. the only think he saw was her body on the ground, unmoving.
“safe,” erwin confirmed. “hanji ran over just in time and got her. but what happened to you ?” no one had ever seen levi freeze up the way he did. others believed it was just fear which made him seem a little more human to them, but erwin knew it was more than that.
throughout the years, erwin watched levi witness the deaths of those closest to him, and even then he was still able to act. but after seeing him go rigid, erwin was more than worried. it was clear levi went into shock, however, shock runs more than skin deep.
this became even more evident to him as levi remained silent the entire way back to the walls. y/n was still unconscious, so one of the open carts was her escort. guilt continued to wash over levi as he wasn’t able to ride in the cart with her to monitor her closely because he had to ride his horse back. regardless, he stayed as close to the cart as possible and stole as many glances her way as he could.
if he had it his way, he would’ve waited outside the infirmary for y/n when they arrived back home, but hanji and erwin practically dragged him to the mess hall to replenish his energy. this may or may not be skipping the part where levi was questioned about what happened, followed by him being chastised for his actions (or lack there of). levi could bare focus even though it was such a serious conversation. his mind was still a hazy mess. as much as hanji and erwin wanted to talk to levi more about the situtation, they knew it was best for the conversation to end there for the day. levi looked so shaken up that he could barely keep himself standing so the last thing he needed was to be yelled at more. the entire corps also made sure to steer clear of the man. he usually had all his emotions hidden but they were on full display now. it still scared the hell out of them.
but the fear alone wasn’t enough to stop them from whispering to themselves. word carried fast about how captain levi froze up and watched one of his squad mates almost die. the ones who only heard about the story instead of witnessing it couldn’t believe what they were hearing. the captain levi did nothing while one of his own almost became titan food ?
hearing the whispers in passing, levi didn’t care that they were talking about him, but he was still affected. their words just made reality sink deeper into him. they weren’t the only ones who were unable to believe what happened. he really just watched helplessly as someone almost died. and it wasn’t just someone, it was his other half.
“hey levi ?” hanji voiced, pulling him out of his head. levi didn’t bother looking up from his food that he had been staring at for the past few minutes to face her. the best he could to was give her a side glance as he peered at her from the corner of his eyes and waited for her to finish.
the glare he was sending her way made her blood run cold, but she took the hint and continued. “are you alright ?” she asked in a small voice.
“does it look like i’m alright ?” he growled back, then went back to eating.
“just wanted to ask,” she added with an awkward laugh then turned to erwin who was on the other side of her. for once in her life she knew not to press any harder, but making levi upset wasn’t her intention. she was genuinely worried about him. hanji gave erwin a what do i do now ? look, hoping for some help, but erwin could only shake his head. he cared about levi just as much as she did, but he knew there was nothing either of them could do or say to make levi feel better. the only thing he needed was to see y/n.
at last, levi finished his dinner and excused himself to go find his partner. as his feet carried him at a quick pace across the stone floors of the many hallways in HQ, fear came back to his already grim mind. there was no word on y/n’s condition so he assumed no progress had been made and she was still unconscious.
needless to say, when he rounded the corner and saw her sitting on the bench right outside the infirmary swiveling her heels and tapping her toes together as if she was bored, shock overcame him once again, this time on a much lower scale. similar to just a few hours ago, he was frozen instantly upon seeing her. it was a much prettier sight this time, but it was still painful to see. the bandage that wrapped around her head peaked out from being any strands of hair that fell in front of her face, other wraps and patches plastered themselves across her arms and legs, and some purple and blue splotches peaked out from behind them. this was only the skin that was exposed. for once in his life levi didn’t want to think about what she looked like when she weren’t wearing any clothes. he made a quick mental note to later place tender kisses on all her bumps and bruises, and took of running towards her.
y/n had been discharged from the infirmary during dinner hours, so the halls has been quite empty as she sat outside alone, falling into boredom. when the first sounds of shoes hitting the ground entered her ears, she got a bit excited, but calmed herself down reminding herself it probably wasn’t him. but when the steps got quicker and louder, she finally let yourself look up to see up to see her partner was the source. there was no point in holding back anyone; her face visibly lit up and a wide smile placed itself on her lips. just like levi, y/n wanted nothing more in the entire world than to see him.
he run turned to a jog then a complete stop as he halted in front of her. despite being so anxious to see one another, neither were really prepared. they just kinda...stared at each other, neither sure of the right words to say. levi decided to take the initiative. he opened his mouth, hoping something, anything, would come out, but his attempt fell flat. words just weren’t enough. instead, he lifted his arms and placed both hands gently on y/n’s shoulders. she caught on quickly, standing up at the same time as he was pulling her into his arms for a tight embrace.
the pair remained silent in each other’s arms until y/n decided to take initiative this time and finally spoke. “is it true ?” she mumbled against his neck, barely loud enough for him to hear.
as much as he had hoped the gossip would stay in the mess hall, levi knew that inevitably word would spread to her. someone must have told her everything that happened, leaving in every little detail about how levi made no moves to save her life, ending up having to be saved by hanji in the end.
based off his silence, y/n knew levi had a lot on his mind so she continued “did you really freeze up?”
he didn’t realize it, but he had tensed up at her words. it absolutely pained him to answer, but he couldn’t imagine the pain she were feeling.
summing up his courage, he began to confirm the worst, but she pulled away before he could get more than a “yes,” out. levi braced himself for the hurt expression that he would be faced with, knowing his heart would break instantly as she realized he truly did failed to protect her, but instead he was met with kind eyes and soft face.
the look on his face had utter disbelief written all over it as her hands went up to cup his face that was now reddening. “are you okay?” y/n asked softly. “im so sorry.”
levi was beyond bewildered. he wanted her to be furious at him. yell at him. pull her soft hands back and strike him as much as she pleased. tell him he failed and that she couldn’t stand the sight of him. he knew he deserved it all and more, but he should’ve known she would never do that. that wasn’t y/n.
he melted into her touch and placing one of his hand over one of hers that remained on his cheek. “i was terrified, y/n.”
y/n finally gave him one of her beautiful smiles and giggled softly. “why were you scared ? i was the one who almost got eaten,” she teased.
y/n’s laughs had quickly subsided after seeing the serious look that had etched itself onto levi’s face. “because you were in danger,” he started.
“i don’t know what id do with myself if i lost you, i...”
“i love you, y/n.”
it was finally y/n’s turn to get a taste of the shock that levi had been experiencing all day. she could’ve sworn her heart skipped a beat at his words, followed by butterfly wings tickling the inside of her tummy, her eyes widening and jaw falling slack. her hands slowly slipped from his face to instead place one of her palms on her chest to make sure her heart was indeed pumping at a regular pace.
levi, on the other hand, was not having a magical experience. y/n’s reaction made him feel as though his feelings weren’t reciprocated despite having been together for so long. he started to get deeper into his head, negative thoughts starting to eat away at him once again, when she finally spoke.
“i love you too, levi,” she breathed out, still too stunned to breathe properly.
levi had had enough of being unable to move for one day. one of his hands grabbed y/n’s waist while the other found its way to the back of her head, as he kissed her roughly, which she eagerly returned. the way he felt her grin against his lips was enough to make all the pain and fear he had experienced that day worth it.
he couldn’t have asked for a better outcome to such a shitty day.
levi had finally learned how to say i love you and he thanked the stars every night following that day that y/n was the one who taught him how.
#attack on titan#aot#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#shingeki no kyojin#snk#shingeki no kyojin x reader#snk x reader#levi ackerman#levi ackermann#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackermann x reader#levi x reader
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