#which isnt really something i ever had to worry about doing traditional
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send-me-a-puffalope · 8 months ago
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IT JUST HIT ME WHAT MY ISSUE WITH MY ART HAS BEEN, THE FUCKING,, LACK OF TEXTURE 😭😭😭 guys i figured it out, expect better nat art soon once school stops beating me with hammers like im the education system's favorite blorbo
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babiejoshi · 1 year ago
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Lead us to the Caves pls, I would like to slurp some Yiga Theory condensation off of the stalactites
i wanted to initially make a video about this but the way this is worded i know i MUST answer
take to mind this theory was built up almost exclusively on botw and NOT hw:aoc or totk but it also includes elements from games like oot/mm/ww/mc/tp and a few others here and there but dont worry about it, at its core its a botw thing
okay so the relationship between the sheikah and the hylain family is strange. like incredibly strange. like... racist strange. Just looking at it from the perspective of being an non-white american, the relationship between them gets worse and worse the more you look into it. A specific "race" or rather ethnic group of people is designated to work specifically FOR the royal family of hyrule, and its worded in ways that are insultingly so. "The only majorly accepted theology in this nation denotes an entire ethnic group of people to exclusively live and serve the family which by the way are also descendants of the main god of said religion" A group of people that just so happen to "enjoy" this servitude in any and all aspects that they are seen, constantly passing down traditions of generations of rules and expectations on to their children on how to train and protect and use even your best intelligence and technology, not for you, not for your lives or families but rather EXCLUSIVELY for the royal family. A family that consistently, over and over, fail and fall. Sometimes for uncontrollable means, other times its due to things like a war. But regardless of the reason, no matter what hyrule, despite having the god descendants themselves running the nation, it always falls into disrepair. which ok fine that happens... but if you look at other nations in the zelda universe while they will have conflicts (thats why theyre a part of the games to begin with) often sort that shit out, and we never hear about them again. (A, B, C) kind of like they learned from it or something.
Now hear me out for a sec because this is the actual theory and the stuff before is just kind of setting it up.
The sheikah are slaves, and the yiga clan are a group of individuals that rose against the people that oppressed them and had forced them into servitude but while doing so were painted as working for and outright supporting the uprising of ganon. The yiga do not attack regular people, the only ones that they ever seem to actually attack are
members of the royal family
link but only when he speaks to them
link AFTER beating master kohga or asserting alliance with the sheikah/the royal family
somebody who snuck into THEIR base (okay okay yeah they stole the thunderhelm first but like if you hear big dick is back in town what are you gonna do? just sit there and let them reinstill the one thing that you spent a century keeping successfully at bay? no youre gonna try and take away that power from them even if it means thievery.)
the shiekah like twice canonically (and really thats arguably only once because if it werent for dorian WHO WAS A YIGA it probably wouldnt have gone past stealing the heirloom.)
Now that seems like a lot, but is it really?
And the thing is... we know this isnt *that* crazy of a movement. For one, there are WAY more members of the yiga clan than there are of the sheikah, which implies that a mass amount of the sheikah race, and people who were mixed with the sheikah, were in fact fed up with being forced into slavery. >i.e. learning and training on a constant basis, exclusively to serve a kingdom that routinely takes advantage of peoples and forgets about them or throws them aside once their benefit is no longer necessary
For another, the idea of deliberately working to overthrow a political system and economic class that has kept your race specifically down from being seen as anything other than servants isn't really that farfetched. Not to mention using real world history we know that often times, groups that align themselves with the idea of gaining civil rights are often not only ridiculed and disrespected but also are painted in media as "bad guys". listen i know what im about to say is embarrassing, and its incredibly stupid to compare real world groups of activist to that of a villain organization in a childrens game but i mean we know that irl activist and civil rights groups, especially ones that often advocate for direct action, are typically portrayed in media and the world around us as terrorist organizations, whether or not they actually are. especially if the actions of said organizations or movements are valid. What I'm saying is... I dont think they actually give a fuck if ganon is in power. If anything it would make a lot of sense that they don't want anyone in power. But that doesn't read well, it doesnt fear monger. It makes the yiga but especially the sheikah the victims of generational violence, which the royal family WOULD DEFINITELY NOT WANT THE GENERAL PUBLIC OF HYRULE TO KNOW.
And why not? Well... Then whos the bad guy? Not the hyrulean family, not the same family that had a war with a neighboring nation made up almost entirely of women for decades where in which they tortured said women in a secret well in the middle of their godly given slave race's town that only specific people would have been able to navigate purposefully hiding what would have been war crimes all for a little bit of land. NOO NOT THEM.. THEY WOULD NEVER
Not only that but also,, the yiga are kind of, one of the only actually functioning societies left.
That's not even mentioning... The yiga don't outright hate the sheikah. like its even seen in how they speak to them. They clearly have ties to them, not only in their practices and knowledge but in general. Dorian is a great example of this, because yes he is currently no longer a member of the yiga it doesn't change the fact that he initially was, but even at the end of the day his race was still sheikah and that his wife, before her death, is also implied to have been a sheikah. it's not the sheikah themselves that they hate, that would be stupid. to hate your own race, your own kin. its ridiculous, but not nearly as ridiculous as laying down on your back and accepting that you (someone who just so happened to exist) must live exclusively as a servant, even if your master is away. It's not just selling yourself short, its selling your children and your ancestors equally as short. Saying deliberately that you are nothing purely because they say you are. Who wouldn't uprise from that? Don't you want to quit these patterns?
I really hate how they made the yiga in botw, actually i hate a lot of the weird race stuff they do in loz but particularly i hate how they butchered the sheikah and how they keep fucking them up. like.. i dunno man
It's just not fair...
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mihotose · 6 months ago
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ruri was trying hard not to let it show on her face but megu knew she was worrying about whether her prince outfit suited her, so megu told her "youre the coolest person in the world, ruri-chan!"
ruri had practised a lot for the party day, and she was even kinder than she normally is, and it made megu feel like a real princess. it must have been a lot of pressure to be escorting such a cute, charming, perfect princess ♡
megumi wants everyone in the whole world to see how cute ruri-chan is but... she wants to be the only one who knows how cool she can be
they thought a lot about their outfits, combining their traditions with the current dollche with kozu and megu's feelings. its amazing how sayaka can wear something like this, when she thought she suited cute soft outfits
saya held out her hand and then laughed and asked if it was too much. it wasnt; saya has always been leading tsuzuri by the hand
tsuzuri talked to kozu and megu. she didnt think the three of them would ever be able to laugh like this again. they all had different hurts, and even if they shared them they wouldnt have been able to do anything. but now everyone has someone to hold their hand!
the way kozu and megu laugh now make tsuzuri wonder if they were like that before. they must have changed. she changed too when she made contact with that blue sparkle [how tsuzuri described sayaka]. just being asked "shall we go?" made her hands shake. and then they stopped
party kozue: a situation that every girl dreams of. a girl finding you alone in the crowd and taking your hand. its strange... she isnt usually this reliable, and she easily gets tired during practice, but when it really matters her shine is dazzling. i always thought i had to lead that girl, but i wonder if i may just give her my hand and let her take care of me
party kozue: if i hadnt met her, what would i be doing now? i cant imagine finding anybody else i could be cerise bouquet with. in that case, even if tsuzuri found sayaka-san and megumi started mirakura park with rurino-san, im sure id be alone. theres no misconceptions about my feelings about winning love live, but i dont think being a school idol has ever been as fun as it is now. on the other hand, i may have been worrying every day about whether im allowed to enjoy myself this much. yes, what if i hadnt met her? the happier i am now the more i think about the time i was unhappy. its surely because of my nature. so for now, please let me see this kind dream, oh wonderful school idol-san who will take my hand
party kozue additional voice lines: tonight, by your side; yes, gladly!; what a romantic night!
[previous card lines i didnt type up]
grace phrase kozue: in order to find new members she and tsuzuri decided to have a live. they worked hard through spring break to prepare for it and she did her best so that somebody might look at her and think she looked good
suisai sekai kozue: if she needs help with costumes she does go to the fashion club and ask. since hasunosora has a long tradition of arts there are lots of students she can turn to
casual clothes kaho: growing up her mom bought all her clothes online since there werent any shops around so shes really happy to be able to change into so many outfits now
casual clothes kozue: she only tends to wear clothes in muted colours. when she went shopping with everyone someone suggested she wear bolder designs which she didnt understand
its a dreaming world megumi: she finishes a stream before thinking about how kozue and tsuzuri working hard to move forward and whether she'll still be stuck streaming forever. if only ruri-chan would come back... she thinks about the live she'd do with ruri if she were here, and then wonders if she could reach the stars with all the hypotheticals she's dreamed up
sparkly spot tsuzuri: while doing a rubiks cube she thinks that itll all be over when she matches all the colours, so maybe she doesnt want to do that
kunpuu no shirabe kaho: training every day is tough but its okay since kozue-senpai is watching over her! when she felt she couldnt do anymore she'd wait until she did it properly! wait... thats kind of oni-like
kunpuu no shirabe kozue: when kaho saw the new outfit designs in the club room she came and hugged her (ie the card art)
rose garden kozue: when she was a child she went to shizuoka with her family to pick tea leaves. the finished tea had a young, fun flavour. just like kaho now. she compares school idols to tea leaves due to how they develop different qualities over time and says she wants to create a performance made up of a blend of herself and kaho that tea tasters will love
rose garden tsuzuri: it seems tsuzuri didnt really know to properly warm up before sayaka arrived?
tragic drops sayaka: not only was she watching tsuzuri's stream she was in the comments trying to get her to stay on topic lmao
tsukimakase sayaka: she doesnt hate the smell of rain but thats different to liking rain itself
ameagari street kaho: she likes the rain. during her childhood when she wasnt allowed to go outside she'd feel lonely by herself but on rainy days her younger sisters would have to stay in and she could play with them. plus she likes reading while listening to the rain noises
ameagari street kozue: she says tsuzuri has the profile of an antique doll. she feels she is like a work of art with a radiant aura
fortune movie kozue: it suddenly began raining and while she normally would have turned back and found shelter, kaho's eyes were shining and they werent far from the dorms so she decided to run there with her
ameagari street sayaka: being able to stand by tsuzuri is rewarding but its bothersome that they each want the same thing out of each other. that is, by fulfilling tsuzuri's wish she is fulfilling her own instead of repaying her for fulfilling sayaka's wish
penguin ice kozue: she and tsuzuri are on different paths now but it doesnt feel lonely. shes inspired by and can do her best because of her and thinks its the same vice versa. but sometimes she does want to stay up and show her school idol videos like before. that tsuzuri showed sayaka the same video she had shown her made her really happy
penguin ice sayaka: if she doesnt let tsuzuri give her headpats she'll get sad... but it will mess up her hair...
asagao reijou kozue: she tried hard and called rurino by her given name from the beginning like everyone else. rurino-san
genyou yakou kaho: "im not alone. kozue-senpai is beside me, and it gives me courage to know that we can run anywhere together no matter how dark it is"
genyou yakou kozue: "past and present, and the present and the future. the road continues. but its difficult to see whats ahead on a dark road, and you need courage to make a step forward. but its alright. im not alone"
mirage voyage sayaka: she went out shopping with everyone after ruri suggested it. it was a mess but it was fun. she realised when caught in kaho and ruri's momentum that they wouldnt stop unless she made it happen. tsuzuri would ride the momentum probably in the wrong direction, and kozue would laugh and give off the idea that if she stopped she'd lose. is that how her school life will be from now on? well, thats okay
newcomer ruri: people who dont eat out by themselves are like heroes to ruri. in the sense that theyre always in a "party" and that theyre cool. people always ask if she gets nervous when she eats by herself but actually shes more nervous when shes with other people...
dolphin beach sayaka: during the training camp they all wanted to do summer activities. kaho wanted to do everything she could think of to do with summer, tsuzuri wanted to eat watermelon, kozue wanted to stargaze, and when she went into the kitchen at night she found ruri grilling fish by herself
sekaichuu wo muchuu ni ruri: its really scary to jump into something thats already established no matter how fun it seems. its something that makes her lose a ton of ruri points. people say ruri is a subspecies of hinoshita, but actually kaho is wild and ruri is domesticated. ruri is a cheap imitation... besides kaho, she thinks only megu-chan could jump into something and call it fun
au bord du lac megumi is presumably the night they folded the paper into the star. megumi decided tsuzuri is the biggest, brightest star
megumi learned from kozue that the stars that form the spring, summer, and winter triangles are each part of separate constellations. it seems that the hasu triangle connects the cerise bouquet, dollchestra, and mirakura park constellations
megumi and ruri had an afternoon tea together. ruri bought the cake and megu... poured the tea that kozue had made and put in a water bottle for them back into the pot! thats basically like making it! [these reward cards were released the day the mirapa radio episode where they had afternoon tea was released]
megu-chan has always been able to look good in any outfit, and anytime anybody calls her cute makes her even cuter
for as long as megu can remember there were these girls living next door. at first she thought they were sisters, one looked like a doll wearing super cute clothes, and the other looked like a boy wearing tshirts and shorts. they turned out to be the same person! as they played together and became friends she still didnt dress very cutely, saying being cute was megu's job! when did that happen! in other words, everyone needs to tell ruri-chan how cute she is!!! and the cuter she feels the cuter she'll become!!!
the lake is one of ruri's favourite places. she used to come a lot with megu-chan. when they were discussing coming to a lake for this event they somehow decided on this one instead of lake hasu, even though lake hasu probably would have been better for mirapa's publicity. maybe they just wanted to confirm that theyre still together even now! or maybe thats just ruri
when she was a kid ruri's mother treated her like a doll and made her wear doll like clothes. but whenever ruri played outside she'd get dirty and so ended up being fired as her dress up doll by elementary school. well, she did have to change into special outside clothes instead. but now ruri's interested in wearing elegant clothes like that again and feels a little bad for hating them so much as a child
usapyon megumi is megumi editing their onsen live and usapyon kaho is kaho picking out souvenirs for her classmates
kaho went to a petting zoo with her family and held a rabbit. minori was smiling and wouldnt talk while holding it while futaba wanted to take it home with her. maybe kaho chose a rabbit as her school idol icon because she wanted people to feel like that and make them smile
the usapyon theme was the moon. ruri came up with the idea of being the victim whose dango were stolen by moon rabbits while sayaka is the space police, and when she told her about the idea sayaka told her it was innovative. sayaka thinks ruri's ideas are a charm point
when sayaka was in elementary school she used to play a dorokei (cops and robbers) but for some reason everyone always thought she was a cop. when she was a robber the cops wouldnt chase after her and when she went to jail to free fellow robbers they all thought she was a traitor. when she told ruri about this she called her "corrupt inspector village field!" [village = mura; field = no] but names arent meant to be translated literally... wait, who is the corrupt inspector meant to be!!!
megumi was mad at sachi for messing with the first says instead of them. plus kozue wasnt even here And right before the rindou sai! thats what made her start writing trick & cute with tsuzuri
megumi was the main lyricist but the second years all composed it together. and yes, megu-chan can write music!!! it wasnt until she joined hasunosora that she started learning properly though
when megumi brought up trick & cute at a meeting everyone got really into it. tsuzuri was humming ideas for the song the next day, and kaho had to scold kozue for trying to play guitar while sick. she also showed the first years the lyrics and asked for suggestions and they all thought seriously about it. looks like shes gotten her revenge on the rindou sai now!
if one of the first years were sick of course kozue would tell them not to push themselves too hard... but shes in a position of responsibility, shes the club president!!
she wanted to apologise for the inconvenience caused by her falling sick but megumi told her she sounded like she was holding a press conference so she stopped
to be honest, kozue doesnt have good memories of the rindou sai, as it was where megumi was injured last year. it was in front of a lot of people, and she was popular, so it was a big shock. it was megumi who inspired trick & cute, when she said "i want this stage to be bright and fun. i want to replace the painful memories with fun ones, for both myself, and everyone who supported me." in other words, trick & cute is kozue's selfish desire to let as many people as possible know about her feelings
kaho says trick & cute was already amazing but megumi-senpai showed her the lyrics and asked for any suggestions, so kaho wrote the "chocolate, candy datte odoru" line
ruri regrets leaving so much of the rindou sai prep to megu-chan and tsuzu-paisen even though she and the other first years had to overcome the trials. but megu-chan said it was all thanks to ruri, since when ruri was worrying about the trials, megu-chan rolled around on ruri's bed and asked what she wanted to do for the rindou sai. ruri said she wanted to do something fun!
since the rindou sai was where megu-chan got injured last year ruri wanted this year's to be fun! but that little demon!!! those arent pranks those are trials!!! sayaka-chan said not to make excuses, and since ruri actually realised something she guessed she wasnt wrong about that but still that demon!!! because of her sayaka-chan got all depressed and the senpai go all weird when her name comes up... and the sweets she gave them taste annoying!!!!
sayaka was truly worried that she might ruin the rindou sai for her senpai. this trial made her feel the same way she did six months ago where she couldnt see her future. the two differences between then and now were sachi-senpai's feelings, and hasunosora. sachi-senpai gave her this trial to guide her, and she was only able to have the willpower to overcome it because of her time at hasunosora. so shes truly grateful
tsuzuri says saya didnt know what to do for a halloween trick. she was sat by the window thinking about it all afternoon. time must have been frozen. that was god's trick. saya has been working hard to act in kozu's place but there were still a lot of things that didnt go well. but its still something only saya can do. shes indispensable, she does what shes asked and supports people who cant. saya can do it because of the way she is. shes so dazzling and beautiful she burns her eyes
actually listening to the hasu card voice lines now
vivid phrase tsuzuri and grace phrase kozue are the outfits they wore to promote the school idol club where kaho and sayaka first saw them perform!!
i have no idea how to take those early mirapa cards. are they just. fantasising about performing together. ruri literally is not even in the country at this point in the story
megu talking about editing a video before trailing off and saying "kozue and tsuzuri are so pretty..."
megumi rented out a photo studio for her megunyan stream??
kaho saying she probably wont be as competent (as kozue) when shes a second year herself <- shes a second year now!!!
tsuzuri's "i want you to know me" to sayaka(?)
「運命だったのかもしれないわね。どうしてかしら、花帆さんを見た時思ったの私はきっとこの子と一緒にスクールアイドルをやっていくんだって。まだまだ長い道のり、これから先も何が起きるかわからけれど、��れでも私は花帆さんを選んだ。蓮ノ空女学院に進学すると決めた時のように ね。その選択を絶対に後悔なんてしないわ。初めて一緒にステージに立ってみて、隣に立って笑う花帆さんを見た時に胸の奥が暑くなった気がしたの。春は出会いの季節、それに恋の季節って言うでしょ?もしかしたら私は花帆さんのスクールアイドルとしての笑顔に恋をしてしまったのかも」
kozue: maybe it was fate. i dont know why, but when i saw kaho-san i thought to myself "im definitely going to be a school idol with this girl." theres still a long road ahead of us, and i dont know what will happen in the future, but i chose kaho-san, just as i chose to go to hasunosora. i will never regret that decision. when we stood on stage together for the first time, and i saw kaho-san smiling next to me, i felt a warmth in my heart. they say spring is the season of new encounters and the season of love, right? maybe i fell in love with kaho-san's school idol smile
the voice lines for the card of sayaka waking up tsuzuri for school are so long like a full minute longer than the others. its mostly tsuzuri saying how thankful she is she has sayaka standing by her and that she worried sayaka wouldnt know How grateful she is. so she gave her a nice acorn she found and sayaka gave her a cookie back
*tsuzuri gave kozue and kaho acorns as thanks in the main story too for making her realise everything sayaka was doing for her
they (ceribou + dollche presumably) all came up with the kunpuu no shirabe outfits together! the translucent fabric layer on top was kaho's idea
while kozue was making the kunpuu no shirabe outfits kaho kept leaving practice to check how she was doing and kozue thought she was like a puppy before thinking that wasnt appropriate for her to think as her senpai (lol)
sayaka (and kaho?) made the stage for scapegoat (and ouka ranman?)
tsuzuri often feels (felt?) lonely after a performance and it makes her want to do another show to feel the same emotions. kozue had to stop her from doing it the fourth time
sayaka saying she obviously cant know fully tsuzuri's greatness but she does want people to know the tsuzuri that she knows, and shes annoyed she wasnt able to properly convey that to kaho when they were talking about how much they love their senpai
tsuzuri didnt recognise herself in the photo of she and kozue from last year. she doesnt really remember her face since she only sees it in the mirror
tsuzuri said something about memories remaining in a form such as a photo, that when she tries to pull them out she can feel it in her chest along with other memories attached to it. so she knows that they happened. yet she cant remember her own face. if she doesnt pull the memories out theyll accumulate and get stuck. but if she keeps doing it she worries theyll fall apart and disappear
there are some memories she wants to disappear but even the ones she doesnt are at risk of disappearing. so she wants to make lots of memories that she does want to keep
sayaka's tragic drops card is probably happening the same time as tsuzuri's!! shes watching her stream :-)
tsuzuri: im not good at streaming but i know people who are, so i used them as a reference <- i knew it
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Iunno, it’s still static sprites that go on a pre-rigged skeleton. It isn’t that much more work. Source: I’ve literally worked on mobile game that uses similar techniques. That said the characters I worked on aren’t nearly as dynamic as they’re only seen from the waist up, but looking at limbo’s animations they need just a couple alternate arms and hands for the most part. Plus there are three variants it feels like they intended a full separate summer servant and then went with costume instead.
i debated answering this bc if i have to see more posts about this subject ill scream but im tired and petty atm and honestly feel like we're not even asking them to make MORE servants just like
instead of making it so its 7 female summer alts and 3 male costumes just make 6 female alts and one summer male alt as a test drive or something. like its frustrating to see people making posts about how the devs couldnt make more costumes for the men bc of crunch time the extra female costumes are more simple etc etc etc like that isnt really the point? the point is that constantly giving ppl 7 of one kind and 3 lesser versions of the other is unfair and people ARE allowed to wish theyd put a little less effort into one side and more into the other, even if the posts DO get annoying. like the valkyrie welfare has six alts- and yes, yes theyre all very similar with basically only the hairstyle changed but have we EVER had a male welfare with a similar amount of attention given to them? are we now not allowed to be annoyed that they couldnt...idk give tai sui his grown up form as a costume as well (which DOES have a sprite, it shows up in his np, even if theyd have to animate some more movement) without someone coming in chiding us for not being appropriately considerate of how hard the devs work?
i KNOW game development is hard and there's a lot of work that goes into it especially with how detailed and intricate fgo sprites are, but theyve persistently been given feedback that people want this and have done nothing to acknowledge it except doing in-game actions which, to the people who are asking for it, can read a lot like taunting or mockery. yeah, it's nice that they included the extra art hasendow did, but doing it for a wildly popular guy after a tidal wave of people begging for more male alts last year reads a LOT differently than the outfit for shuten douji, who has a welfare alt as well as her 'other self' in the event in a swimsuit. do you understand what im saying? ibuki and douman were released at the same time, and one was VASTLY more popular and profitable, but only one got a multi-ascension alt with a bonus costume and i think it isnt actually unreasonable for his fans to feel put out by that.
like, idk, i just think people are more upset than usual this year bc after all the fallout last year with how bad it was it had felt like fgo was actually getting more equal with how it treated it's cast-and with the announcement that there was going to be three ssrs, i legitimately thought that they WERE going to do a male summer alt, but were worried about the reception so weren't messing with the number of female summer ssrs-and i think other people thought that as well! but instead they continued with the same pattern they've always done, EXCEPT that they made 3 of the summer female alts ssrs instead of 2- which shows they're willing to buck tradition but not in the way people are asking for. the male summer alt thing isnt a new problem, they've had ample time to know that people have really really wanted it, they just dont want to do it, and its really annoying that when you complain about it you get a rush of people coming to defend the devs in various ways-they can't do summer alts of the men NOW bc what about the previous men who already got costumes, they cant do summer alts of the men NOW bc they just changed companies, they can't do summer alts of the men NOW bc they never did before, etc etc etc its just annoying like ok. i get it. you dont want to hear people complain! but if working on all these alts is so hard they can also cut down on the number of female alts...
like does this make sense? i know this is incoherent and probably whiny im just tired of whenever people are like 'hey can we actually change this annoying aspect of the game' people rush in to explain why it's impossible for it to change. they also said that about pity and quick casters and a whole bunch of other stuff that they then changed more recently, people were allowed to get their hopes up even if it was 'premature of them'
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blxetsi · 4 years ago
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Hello! I love your blog and writing so much! May I please request modern au dating hcs for Mikasa?
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tysm for requesting ilysm 🙈💥
i also went a bit overboard i hope thats okay !!
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modern mikasa ackerman dating headcanons
lowercase intended !
college!mikasa ackerman x gn!reader
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- eren finds out abt her crush on you. idc idc
- mf may be dense sometimes but he isnt stupid, he KNOWS what mikasa acts like when shes in the presence of her crush,, he would know bc he was one ;)
- anyways, maybe your like, going up to ask mikasa for her notes from last class, or just chatting with them to be friendly
- either way mikasa goes from 😳 to 😐 real quick
- shes very quiet which youre used to so you dont really think too long abt her lack of communication. its literally just you and eren talking at this point
- after you leave to,,, idk sit under a tree ?? erens immediately turning to mikasa being like "okay tell me everything"
- she denies the crush on u 😔💔
- but then eren tells armin.
- and eren has a big mouth so who knows who else he told ??
- so finally, after beating up eren for spilling the beans she tells her two closest friends EVERYTHING
- like from how nice your hair smells to how pretty she finds your eyes. how she loves your sense of style. she just likes everything about you
- erens like "i mean yeah theyre rlly cute but like,,, what do you like about them that isnt physical 😐"
- mikasa starts blushing HARD. and slowly goes to her bedroom in their shared apartment, before slinking back out holding a crinkly folded piece of paper.
- its something you wrote and it says "thanks for studying with me mikasa !! let me treat you to boba as a thanks. youre so sweet, ill see you next class babie"
- erens looking at the note like 😐 mf is this it ??
- armins flipping it back and forth and reading it over and over again
- mikasa just says "theyre kind to everyone. and theyre funny. i just like them a lot."
- erens like 🙄 k but armins all for it
- then they start coming up with a plan to get you to like mikasa back (even though mikasa doesnt want that)
- erens an asshole and says "mikasa i love you and you will always be my number one, HOWEVER. they might just see you as a friend, OR WORSE. an aquaintance. we gotta make u so cool that youre irresistable"
- now mikasa is a bit worried
- HOWEVER. what none of those idiots know is that YOU have had a fat crush on mikasa since you asked her for a pencil at the beginning of the semester 😍 she stared at u like 😐✏️ and u were like "omg thanks 😊" w a little blush on ur cheeks bc mikasa's hot
- i mean,, if you didnt like mikasa WHY would you have invited her out for boba ?? one, who doesnt like boba ?? and two,, doesnt that count as a date ? u didnt know but u just wanted to like ✨subtly✨ shoot your shot
- but that was almost a month ago and she hasnt said yes. so you assume she didnt wanna go
- a few days go by after mikasa tells her friends all about her crush. and like,,, they do nothing ?? what happened to the big plan of making mikasa seem like the coolest person around ?
- it turns out eren doesnt know enough about you to know what you like. and ur dumbass friends aint help either.
- so one day he finds you and mikasa coming out of your shared class, your talking about something and mikasa is just nodding with a blush on her cheeks.
- he runs up to both of you before saying "hey just to let you know mikasa has a big crush on you. and she'd love to go get boba with you 😁👍"
- mikasa gets so red in the face and starts smacking him with her binder. you couldnt stop it even if you tried
- after literally YELLING at them for their attention you just turn to mikasa like "please get boba with me 🥺" and she cant resist
- and then the rest is history 😌✨
- after the boba date you learned so much about her and vice versa. you guys were like,, closer than ever. always going to her apartment or her coming to your dorm
- you guys would have sleepovers very frequently. nothing ever happens but you two like being so close with each other
- and you guys do a lot together when you arent busy with school or work or friends
- mikasa takes you to cool museums and art galleries
- you take her to cool shops downtown and parks
- its so fun
- but you cant help but wonder if youre dating or not ?? like do you have the right to call mikasa your gf ?? you guys havent kissed on the lips but she always kisses your head when you cuddle, and you always take each other out on dates
- on the day you finally bring it up during one of your sleepovers. shes on her back and youre almost on top of her with your arms around her shoulders and your face smushed into her chest
- u just kinda mumble "are you my girlfriend ?"
- and its SILENT.
- u start freaking out bc "omg she doesnt like me 😁👍 im gonna cry"
- until she just quietly says. "yes."
- OFNWIDNKWSMWKKWKALSMQLSME
- ur gonna marry this girl 😐
- her love language ?? definitely acts of service. idc idc.
- when u sleep over shes making you tea without u asking. (u said u liked lavender tea ONCE and this bith got a whole container 😭😭)
- when you have movie nights with her, eren, and armin she always chooses a movie you like ("no we arent watching the florida project again armin cried last time" "yeah but y/n loves it so" "this feels like oppression mikasa" "okay and ?")
- is also very protective. she hears mfs in the halls talking shit about you ?? shes shutting them up with her glare
- also u know how isayama made her goth in his like, highschool thingy ?? yeah 😍
- #gothmikasasupremacy
- she makes her eyeliner and shadow messy on purpose.
- you love just laying her down on her bed and straddling her, just leaning over and doing her makeup for her (jules and anna tease 🙈✨)
- sometimes you guys go to thrift stores and pick out outfits for each other
- one time you found this GORGEOUS floral sundress and she physically shivered from the thought of wearing
- tried it on and looked SO BEAUTIFUL, but it wasnt her style 😐
- also doesnt tell her parents about you ?? not bc shes embarassed or anything but just because she knows her dad is gonna be like "who are they ? what are they like ? where do they live ? whats their major ? where are they from ? whats their zodiac sign ?"
- he doesnt do it to play the "overprotective dad" role but because hes genuinely curious and excited
- she brings you home for the first time and youre so surprised because this tall blond man is her FATHER ?? she looks so much like her mom though its not even funny
- for dinner her mom and dad made traditional japanese food 😭😭 it was so good omfg
- also this has nothing to do with dating headcanons but mikasa used to live off of lunchables as a kid. was literally addicted to the rubber like ham 😍
- her mom is so sweet, and she shows you all of the stuff she's embroidered all these years
- her dad is so extroverted, he loves telling dad jokes. you find them HILARIOUS but mikasa sits there like 😐👍
- he DEMANDS you guys play scrabble. he says it help him figure out who you are as a person. now youre scared 😁👍
- anyways
- you love giving her little kisses on her lips because one, you get some of her moisturizing lip gloss on your lips and two, she blushes SO HARD
- one time you two were on a date and you ran into her ex. whos literally so scary
- her name is annie and shes blonde and muscular and rlly hot but has that same blank stare as mikasa
- you feel kinda weird bc how did she go from being with ANNIE to you ??
- you ask her abt it and shes like "oh yeah we dated in our last year of high school. im much happier with you" and now youre feeling all giggly and happy bc mikasa doesnt lie 😭😭
- u roll around on her bed with your cheeks squished together to hide your blush bc you feel so good that she said that
- she just rolls her eyes before getting on top of you and taking your hands away from your face
- she gives u kisses all over before putting the final one on your lips. its such a soft and sweet moment with just the two of you, you cant help but confirm what youve already thought:
youre gonna marry her one day.
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a/n
i REAAALLLLYYYY enjoyed making this oml. i hope u all enjoyed this !! remember: requests r open for anything aot OR u can give me ideas for other fandoms to write for
kk goodbye friends 🤩🤩🤩
137 notes · View notes
1994sunflower · 4 years ago
Note
Are you still doing requests for Michael? I would really like to see a “when michael first meets your parents” thing ❤️
you literally don't understand how much I loved making this. thank you for the request. I hope you like it!  
the first meeting was definitely explosive buut I think as the relationship progresses, the parents start to get more used to it (even if they still don’t like it) so it isnt ever as tense and volatile as the first. we also get to see protective!yn here which I really liked exploring. 
in which michael meets your parents
You were constantly going back and forth from cleaning and straightening your living room to staring at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup and trying not to convince yourself to change outfits completely.
It wasn’t that your parents were judgmental. Just extremely traditional and if you didn’t have everything looking pristine and perfect, a comment was sure to leave one of their mouths. And with this reunion with your parents being so different from past ones, you couldn’t afford for anything else to take attention away.
But mostly you were a nervous sort of excited and maybe thats why you were jumping around, constantly in motion. You hadn’t seen your parents for the better half of year and to say you missed them was an understatement. You grew up pampered with love and their constant belief in you and whatever you dreamed of achieving. Even if at times they felt too strict and expecting perfection. But still, it was hard to even leave home for college because of how close you were with them. That didn’t mean you didn’t constantly call to check in or go over for holidays. But even that wasn’t enough. Each year you organized a day when they would come over to your apartment and you would eat out or eat in and have a family day. It was one of your favorite days because it was one of the only times you weren’t stressed because of school and you felt so absolutely surrounded by love and the people closest to you. Except for nearly 2 years now, your moment with the people closest to you was missing someone. 
They definitely knew about Michael. Ever since you started dating, you told them all about him and how much he meant to you. But you hadn’t wanted to introduce him right away, afraid that it was too soon or afraid that you weren’t completely in a serious relationship just yet. And lucky for you Michael didn’t seem all that interested either. But Michael had become such an integral part in your life, someone you could see yourself being with forever. Someone you didn’t want to part with. So you knew it was time. And you think your heart might erupt at having all your loved ones together at last. You couldn’t hold back the little excited squeal that escaped you when you called to let your parents know about the addition to your family day.
You were staring at your spotless white living room then, going over everything in your mind to make sure you hadn’t let something slip your mind. Yes, you were excited but you were also so nervous. You usually were when it came time for your parents to visit but this time was so much worse as it felt that this unique visit actually had something riding on it. You felt tense despite yourself. Your fingers played with the fabric of your knitted sweater with the white collar peaking up under it. Maybe you had time to change into something your conventional parents might like even better.
But you felt arms wrap around your waist before you could dwell on that thought for too long. A surprised gasp left you but you could recognize Michael’s strong presence anywhere. You were so in your head, you hadn’t even heard him unlock your apartment door with his key. You relaxed in his arms, leaning back against his chest. 
“Thank you for being on time.” You breathed out. You asked him to be there before your ever punctual parents were scheduled to arrive. And you hoped your serious tone was enough to let him know just how important it was to you.
He hummed in response and finally you turned to get a look at him. 
It might’ve been the first time you’d seen him with long sleeves. The shirt covered up his arms and fit respectfully around his chest. But it was impossible to even try to hide the tattoos covering the expanse of his neck and his hands and fingers. And he still had the familiar set of chains draped on his jeans. You weren’t ashamed of him and you would never force him to hide and transform into something he was not to appease your parents. So you never mentioned what he should or shouldn’t wear, how he should or shouldn’t act. You wanted him to be himself, the person you loved so much. Even if it wasn’t what your parents would want, expect or even accept. But still, you couldn’t help but swoon at this subtle way of him showing you that he cared enough to try - at least a little, even if it was only because you cared about your parents.
Because sure you told them about him but maybe the way you saw and described him wasn’t exactly how he was to everyone else. To you, he was sweet, caring, gentle, protective, loving with a hard exterior. But even if they didn’t like him, which you knew they likely wouldn’t at first (ever critical and frankly, just shy of snobby) with how much Michael’s image clashed with the one they were trying to maintain and the same one they wanted for you, you were determined to get them to warm up to him eventually. Because you didn’t know how you could handle it if they didn’t like him at all.
Michael, for his part, was much more relaxed on that front than you were. Because, he didn’t have to wonder or stress about being liked by your parents. Ever since you brought up him meeting them, he already knew they wouldn’t like him. And he wasn’t particularly worried about trying to change their minds. The only opinion that mattered in his mind was yours and you liked him just fine. He could see their reactions already, the horror plastered on their faces when they saw him beside their daughter. They might have seemed willing and excited when you first told them he was invited but that was because they had a false image of him in their heads by how you described him. He almost wanted to skip it because he already knew the outcome, one that would only serve to make you upset and by default then, make him angry. But he knew how important family was to you, how close you were with yours and he couldn’t deny you. When he saw how you smiled and giggled with excitement, he didn’t have the heart to ruin that. But even Ashton had seem privy to what would happen, his smile then telling him not so subtly You’re so screwed.
And maybe that was also the reason he consciously decided to wear something that would hide his tattoos more than before. He knew they still wouldn’t like him but it would be better for them to not absolutely detest him - at least not straight off the bat. He didn’t care if they liked him as your boyfriend but he did care if their hatred was so bad that they tried to pull you away from him because if how obvious it would be that he didn’t deserve you. Not that he would ever accept that even if they tried. Maybe that’s why he felt a little more antsy than he ever expected to feel. He wasn’t nervous to meet them, he was unsure of what meeting them could end up meaning for his relationship.
He had to be at least a little better than he was usually with others. It also didn’t help that he never had to be in the position of meeting a girl’s parents before - especially one that was so incredibly different from him already that her parents, her strict, professional parents would probably blow up to see the type of man their daughter took with her chosen partner, the kind that didn’t seem like would amount to much - which was ill-suited for you who everyone knew would achieve her wildest dreams. For the first time in a long time he couldn’t help but think just how different your paths in life were before they converged and how much he wished, at least for tonight, that he was just a little less inconspicuous, in all fronts (height and body art) so that just the sight of him wouldn’t be an omen for your parents of how badly he was suited for you, how much he would destroy you and their dreams of your future.
It had to be a testament of his love that he hadn’t tried to back out of this already.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and went on your tip toes to try to look him more at eye level - still miserably too short but trying all the same. “I know I already told you but I made food for all of us instead of going out so it’d be more of a personal thing. And please don’t mention anything about me living with you, okay? They-”
“They still think you’re a virgin like a good little girl.” His smile was anything but sweet and you slapped his arm playfully at his words. Oh, another thing they would hate him for. Another way he ruined their precious daughter.
“Michael. This is serious.” It wasn’t what you were going to say. But you didn’t deny his words were true, either.
You didn’t technically move in together. But you spent most of your time with Michael and slept at his house more often than you did in your own apartment. For Michael, it was weird not being there right then with you, even weirder if you were here instead of his house. In your parents minds however, you lived and slept in your apartment 24/7 and this would be the first time Michael was ever in there for an extended period of time. And if they ever found out the truth, they would probably drag you back to live with them and away from Michael tooth and nail. Same goes for if they ever had a clue that he even had a key to your apartment, allowing him access whenever he wanted and for whatever purposes. As far as they were aware, you were still the shy girl who had barely even had her first kiss yet let alone have experienced all you had with Michael. If they even had a clue, they would think Michael was an even a worse influence than his appearance would already lead them to believe; they may even believe he was a devil. 
You took his face in your hands, “One last thing. They may seem a little…snobby but whatever they may think or say at first doesn’t matter. I know they’ll end up loving you just as much as I do.”
Michael didn’t have to respond. You made a small jump to kiss his lips and he caught you in the air easily, holding you up to him so you could kiss more easily. He hadn’t commented on your very conservative outfit, your usual choices of skirts and light dresses (his favorites, the ones that always had such easy access) were done away with and instead a sweater that hid your body and jeans that stood between him and being able to feel your core against him whenever you wrapped your legs around him were in its place. Even without the day starting yet, he already decided the change in wardrobe your parents inspired in you was one of his least favorite part of the day.
Maybe he would end up disliking them just as much as they did him.
You yelped when you heard the knocking at your door and Michael groaned at having to separate from your addicting lips and even more when you wiggled in his arms to be set down again. You scrambled quickly to the mirror, fixing whatever lipstick he had smudged and he had the decency to at least wipe at his own lips to get rid of any color.
Off to a rough start. The last thing you needed was for your parents’ first impression of Michael to be with your lipstick still smeared on his lips. 
You took his big hand in yours, loving the way his fingers immediately entwined in yours, as you made your way to the door, dragging him along. His chains rattled as he followed you. You opened the door with a big happy smile on your face and he was almost sad to know that eventually that smile would be gone. His gaze was on you, almost wishing that he would be wrong about their reactions towards him because he wanted nothing else but to keep you the happiest person in the world, even if he knew the way to do that (to have your parents like him like you wanted them to) was unlikely. 
“Mom, dad!” You jumped excitedly. You hadn’t seen them in nearly a year and at the sight of them, standing side by side at your doorway, dressed as impeccably as they always did and wearing their parental, loving smiles, it suddenly hit you how much you missed them. You could almost cry.
But you didn’t let go of Michael’s hand. And finally, Michael’s gaze shifted from you to the two people he could thank for your marvelous existence. They were everything he imagined they would look like. Just as prim and proper as their daughter, or at least as you were before he came along.
Your hands squeezed Michael’s and he noticed you were shaking a little. He resisted the urged to collect you in his arms to calm you down. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or excitement. 
“This is Michael, my boyfriend. Michael, these are my parents.” You looked between them expectantly, your parents only having moved from outside to through the doorframe, and Michael realized you were expecting a warm welcome from them at his introduction. 
But both of you watched as your mother’s eyes slipped to your entwined hands, no doubt eyeing the tattoos running up and down Michael’s hand and fingers that basically completely enveloped your small one. To her credit, her grin was still intact. Faking it until she made it.
Your father, was much less of an actor. He stared up at Michael. Your father wasn’t a short man, at least compared to his own wife and his daughter. But very little could measure up to Michael in height. Maybe that had something to do with the way your father’s eyes constantly flickered between the top of your head and to Michael’s eyes, almost bristling at the difference. It was one thing to have a taller boyfriend but it was quite another to have someone as big as Michael, shoulders wide and tall, that seemed to rise dauntingly at your side. It almost felt, to your father, as if you were being taken advantaged of, ravaged by what could be the embodiment of everything he had tried to protect you from.
You watched, your smile slowly fading but still holding on, as their eyes slipped to Michael’s neck. To where his tattoos still were on full display, with an expression of distress. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Michael had chosen to wear a short sleeve. You just hoped they would never have occasion to see him shirtless. You made a note to self to never have a family pool day.
The silence was dreadful. It only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a lifetime. Especially when you hoped they would have greeted Michael with warmth and even if it had to be fake, excitement. Okay, maybe it would take a little more convincing for them to like him than you thought. You thought this could be a possibility, that they wouldn’t like him at the start, but you convinced yourself it wouldn’t happen. Convinced that they would see how much you liked him, enough to introduce him to them, enough to trust him so completely. 
Michael didn’t stray his eyes from your parents. He wasn’t trying to be challenging or mocking, even if that was usually exactly what he tended to be. But their reactions were exactly what he expected them to be. The looks of uncertainty, as if this was just a big joke they were waiting to be clued in on. They looked at him as if he was the bad guy on the wrong path that had somehow ensnared their precious daughter. He felt every bit as scrutinized as they obviously were scrutinizing him, they didn’t try to hide it. They saw the way they eyed his tattoos, his chains, his size with disapproval and judgement. If he actually cared about their opinions he might be hurt. But it was almost funny. They didn’t even see half of all they could judge him for. Part of him wondered just what you told them about him to make them not expect what he actually turned out to be.
They stood so still, he wasn’t sure if their minds literally malfunctioned or not. But as he felt you pull yourself closer to his side, almost as if trying to protect him, uselessly attempt to shield him from their eyes, he finally glanced down at you while squeezing your hand for comfort. He didn’t mind the silent criticism and immediate rejection. But he saw your eyes swirl with uncertainty and worry. You hadn’t expected this, that much was clear and it was hurting you. You wanted them to meet but you hadn’t wanted to put Michael in a situation where he would feel unwelcome or judged. Michael loved your hopefulness, even if it was fruitless from the start. The only thing making you feel better was that he didn’t seem really bothered.
“Nice to meet you.” His voice was curt but not cold, as polite as he could manage to force himself to be. For your sake, he’d make the first move.
And it was as if your parents sprung back to life. As if they weren’t aware that they had let their façade slip. Your mother’s smile was back in full force, granted it was forced, and it suddenly struck Michael just how much you two resembled one another, your smile was the same. Your father didn’t look happy but he was back to his usual strict faced expression.
“Oh! We’ve heard so much about you Michael.” Your mother clasped her hands together and while everyone could tell her excitement wasn’t genuine, it seemed enough for your hope to come back.
Because your grin came back, matching your mother’s, before you finally let go of Michael’s hand and bounded over to them. “I missed you so much, mom.” You hugged your mother tightly as your father smiled at the two women of his life. Such a different look to the one he had when you were next to Michael. 
“And you too, daddy.” You mumbled as you moved on to hug your father with a relieved sigh.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Michael clenched his lips together into a thin straight line. It was wrong to see you then, bubbly and jumping around excitedly, looking so adorable and wholesome in front of your parents. While you spoke the title you had so often times moaned out as he had you trembling under him, so tiny and submissive that he could completely take over your entire figure, the one that gave him all the power and dominance over you. 
But to hear it in this context just reinforced what Michael already knew. You were a good girl. One that got good grades and obeyed her parents. But he was slowly tainting that goodness, leaving a new part of yourself just for him. And the rest of the world had no idea. It was almost comical to see you put on this mask of a demure, chaste daughter when he knew the truth of what you were for him.
He had to look away from you, the sight of you looking so pure while saying a word that should have no other connotation was a reminder of how innocent you were and just how much he enjoyed ruining that, how much he already had but evidently not enough because there it was still in front of him. 
He had an urge to take it away right then too, to destroy that facade you currently had up, remind you that he had taken away that pure innocence a long time ago. An urge to hear those words you had just uttered but this time directed to him, like he was used to hearing. A fuck you to the parents that thought they knew you so well, that thought you were, were currently seeing you as, an angelic shy daughter who’d never so much as been touched while in reality her big possessive boyfriend had changed that the moment he decided to have you, it was what made you his, preventing anyone else from ever being able to have you again. But the thought of you being that in front of him right then despite all that, being shy, modest and acting virginal was enough for his body to be heating up with need.
It wasn’t the time for those thoughts but he couldn’t help it after hearing your words, spoken with such modesty when he could imagine drawing it from your lips for him with a very different tone. Oh what horror it would come to your parents, to know that he had that same little girl that currently looked as if she held all the pureness in the world was already marked by him, and all the sinful things he had compelled you to do, the path he was taking you along because of it. And there was nothing they could do about it.
He felt a hand clap his shoulder and he snapped out of his thoughts, glancing down to see your father. His grip was tight and his eyes were unfriendly but his words were playful, likely for your sake. “Great to finally meet you, Mike.” Michael cringed at his words, he hated nicknames. Hated what they seemed to mean, that whoever spoke it thought they were close enough, knew him well enough to give him a personal title. Unless it was from you. “You’re a lot different from what Y/N told us, though.”
“Dad!” Your words had a tone of warning to them as you opened your eyes wide in alarm. His words weren’t straight out critical but the meaning was well received. And any hint of a problem was enough for you to jump in.
Your mother squeezed your shoulders. “Oh come now, little bird.” She laid her cheek on the top of your head, it was hard to be mad at them when she was holding you so maternally you almost felt like a child again. Her gaze was on Michael, however. “You’re a lot taller than I imagined. It isn’t hard to be taller than our Y/N though.”
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the reminder of just how small you were, this time in front of your boyfriend, but Michael couldn’t stop the albeit tense smile that escaped him at your shyness.
But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be an airy comment. He was taller, but maybe too much. It made it seem as if he was somehow exploiting their poor defenseless daughter, using her to fulfill whatever sick desires he had brewing inside of him. If only they knew.
Your mother hummed, “But if you’re anything like what she tells us about you, I’m sure it will be lovely to get to know you. Even if you do seem so different from all the other boys she’s had interest in.”
The silence that comment was met with was palpable.
Michael’s eyes narrowed at her words. The implication of you with other men (men he had no doubt were a world’s difference from him, men that your mother obviously approved and preferred), thinking of them and crushing on them, was worse enough. But what it meant that your mother purposely remembered and brought them in front of him, your boyfriend, just added a further element.
You had the good sense in moving forward, pulling at his arm before he could retort. Your parents or not, he wasn’t ever good at controlling himself when he got volatile. You cleared your throat. “I made lunch for us. Let’s just sit and get started.”
You were pulling him away and guiding him to your already set dining table. You were uncomfortably aware of the rattling his chains did when he began moving and saw how your parents glanced at them in quick glances. Their lips were set tightly as they walked behind you and Michael and you could feel the way they wanted to talk to each other, no doubt expressing opinions you wouldn’t want to hear.
Michael sat next to you, never letting go of your hand while your father took his place next to him and your mother across from you. If you took away the tension, it almost felt like Michael was the new addition to your small family. The thought made your heart swell. Maybe everything would settle down and get better from then on. You wanted your parents and him to love each other so much, needed this to work on. You weren’t sure if you could handle it if the most important people in your life didn’t get along. You knew Maia already didn’t like him, you didn’t need to add more to the mix.
Your father glanced sideways to Michael. “So, do you study anything in science too? Our daughter spoke all about how kind you were.” His eyes did a not so subtle glance to Michael’s appearance that showcased just how uncertain he was of his daughter’s truthfulness on that account. “But she didn’t mention much about what you do.”
Maybe that was on purpose. Because while you didn’t look the least bit embarrassed when he spoke, your parents didn’t share that sentiment. “No, nothing in science.” He was trying his best, really he was, hiding his contempt and warningly low voice he wanted to take on. You noticed it, the way his tone was still calm, even bordering polite. Or at least his version of polite.
“But Michael helps me out a lot when studying so he knows a thing or two by now. He’s really supportive.” You said. It was true in that you often went to him to study but most of his help came from you practicing bandaging people up after his fights. Not that you were going to make the clarification to your parents.
Your mother nodded, eating your words up. “Well that’s great! It might be even better that you two don’t study the same thing, no competition or anything like that.”  
You loved your mother so much in that moment. At least she was making an effort. And how could you doubt her, really. She was the woman who raised you, the warmest person you knew.
Your father, however, was more blunt. Kind of like Michael. You wondered if having that in common would help them get along better or just dislike each other more.
“So how did you two meet?” Your mother continued, “Do you live on campus as well?”
Michael talked much more than you expected him to. And you were grateful when he responded to each question instead of just a nod or shake of the head. “I live a few blocks away from here. But we met on campus.”
It seemed he knew when to leave out some details as well. Telling them you met him bleeding and hurt after a fight would not have fared well.  
Your mother smiled tightly, “Oh. I suppose it’s easy to visit each other then.” Her gaze split to you and you saw the warning in them. She wasn’t a fan of the prospect of her daughter being alone in a boy’s house, especially one like Michael where he would be free to allure her into unconscionable things a woman like you should not do, particularly one that was raised to do things ‘correctly’ and in the confines of marriage. You hoped she would never have a hint otherwise even if what she was afraid of already happened, and much worse than she ever imagined. Even worse that you had enjoyed it so much, welcomed his allure even.
But before either you or Michael could answer, she continued. “Our little bird cried her eyes out when she moved out.”
“Mom.” You said, hiding your eyes shyly. You didn’t want to think of Michael’s thoughts at that moment, hearing you sound so childish. Maybe thats why your mom said it, knowing that didn’t fit in at all with Michael’s very mature look and aura.
But Michael was staring directly at you, smirking without meaning to. Even then, you were so pure, the worse in your life was leaving your parents. It was as if he was at last being clued into just how much he managed to taint your unsullied person, just how much he managed to change you. From a precious daughter who cried at the thought of parting with her parents, to a slut who cried for his cock and cum. And yet your parents was still blissfully unaware of how he corrupted you. He had to clench his jaw to stop himself from getting hard. 
“She adjusted really well.” His words were filled with a humor only you could understand. The double meaning that went lost to your parents ears, mostly because he knew they wouldn’t want to understand it so they didn’t. 
Your hand was on top of Michael’s on the table, your fingers tracing circles on his hands. Mostly to comfort yourself, but knowing it was helping Michael relax as well. Your father was staring at you with a clenched jaw, visibly frustrated with Michael’s answers, or lack thereof. Maybe he had been hoping that this was just a set up but to see your intimate and gentle interactions with Michael, it was evident that wasn’t the case. It looked wrong to him to even see Michael allow such touches from you when he clearly didn’t deserve it. Especially when he looked so cold. Both of your parents noticed it when they arrived, the coolness with which he regarded them and even you. The warmth you seemed to radiate was so strange next to his mean expression. 
But then the conversation was on you and your studies, your excited chatter filled the air, and Michael was glad for the reprieve. Though he felt as though eyes were still on him constantly. The things he would endure for you.
You had warned him that they were judgmental. But how could they have raised such an open minded girl, one that could’ve been capable of falling in love with him? Or perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps he really had ruined you in more ways than he thought. The thought filled him with a twisted, possessive pride.
“I’ll be right back, I have to bring the dessert from the kitchen.” Michael was getting ready to rise to join you when your mother jumped in. 
“Oh, I’ll help”
Your eyes widened in alarm at the thought of leaving your visibly frustrated father with Michael. “O-Oh. Actually, Michael was going to…”
“Nonsense. He’s a guest.”
You didn’t respond, just nodding tensely. Besides, what could you say? That Michael had spent more than enough days and nights here to no longer hold that guest status? Your parents might combust.
And it seemed as if your dad was waiting for an opportunity to finally speak because as soon as you were out of sight, his gaze was on Michael’s tall figure beside him.
“You know a man like you doesnt strike me as the type to be interested in my daughter.” He said, “You know with your certain look to you. Might scare them away.”
Didn’t scare your daughter away. Michael wanted to quip but your father continued before he had the chance to dwell on whether or not to speak his mind.
“I don’t figure that my little Y/N is your type of woman, normally. What changed?”
How had he gotten you. Was what he was trying to say. How did a man like Michael, get a girl like you. He was sure the rest of the world asked themselves the same question your parents were currently asking themselves. Why had you even given him the time of day? Sometimes he asked himself that too. But usually it filled him with satisfaction knowing how great of a girl he had gotten, to be able to arouse those questions.
He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t the type of girl he usually would’ve gone for before meeting you. He’d never been with an inexperienced girl and your differences, perhaps if anyone else, would have dissuaded him from ever pursuing you. But he couldn’t pinpoint what changed, just that when he met you, none of that mattered.
Michael didn’t lift his own gaze from your father’s. This time not caring if he looked challenging or not and not bothering to try to speak more than just a clipped response. “I don’t know. But seems like I’m your daughter’s type, so it worked out for me.”
“Really, she’s not to...peppy for you? You seem much more .... stoic” 
In fact it’s the happiness you bring in his life that he loves so much. He wasn’t stoic with you but his smiles, laughs and chuckles were reserved only for you. And he loved seeing you look so shy and cute next to him. 
“No.”
Just as blunt as your father. And while it may not seem so to anyone beside you, he really was still trying to be as proper as possible. That included some slightly unmannerly responses and behaviors, but he wasn’t cursing or intimidating. So he counted that as a win.
If your father expected a boyfriend desperate for approval, he wasn’t in luck. Michael didn’t care for his acceptance or support. He didn’t care that your father’s face was turning red with anger; at the suggestion that his daughter, the one he raised so carefully, the gentle and smart one that they were so proud of, the one destined for a nice marriage with a nice rich man, could possibly be attracted to someone like him who, with the small portion of ink he could see, screamed bad news. Michael had an urge to let him in on a little secret; you were much more than just attracted to him, you were weak for him. He wondered how much angrier your father would be if he knew his daughter called him daddy too. 
“Listen here, Michael” He tried his best to be well mannered. “I don’t know what a guy like you wants with my daughter, your intentions. But it’s not what’s best for her, you’re not what’s best for her. She might be blinded from that right now but when she wakes up, and she will, you won’t be around for too long afterward. So take whatever sick fantasy you have away from her because guess what? She won’t be participating. She’s too smart to fall for it. I won’t let my little girl be defiled by someone like you.”
A little too late for that. He had lost count of how many times he made sure to cum all over your face to prove it. 
Michael was silent, staring at him with dangerous eyes. But even still, a taunting smirk was threatening to form on his lips. If only he knew that Michael had ‘his little girl’ on her knees yesterday with his cock down her throat.
Your father was right. He likely wasn’t what was best for you, you could do better. But Michael was a selfish man and you had already allowed yourself to be claimed by him, wanted him just as much as he did you. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him. The thought that your father was still worried about your cherished chastity with someone like him, just increased the lust fueling in him at the knowledge that he had already tarnished the sweet girl no one expected, or dreamed, to have been ensnared by someone like  him.
“She’s a big girl, now.” He said with a secretive smirk. “And I plan on staying for a very long time” He let his sentence stop there for your sake but the rest of his sentence hung between them in silence. so get used to it. Maybe whatever rich loser you wanted her to be with would be afraid of you or cared, but like you said: I’m not what’s best for her. So I don’t. 
Your father’s voice rose so much Michael was surprised you hadn’t heard and come running to defuse the situation. “Look at you! You can’t expect me to think you have good intentions with a girl that you tower over, one that still looks at the world with wonder and has nothing visibly in common with you. She’s never done drugs, never drank, doesn’t have tattoos, she dresses in pastels for God’s sake. One you can easily manipulate especially as it’s pretty obvious to anyone that has eyes that you are more….lived than she has been. She’s lived a sheltered life and that makes her susceptible to bad influences, one that try to take advantage of her for their own twisted desires or kinks.”
Michael didn’t even know if he could deny the accusation towards his intentions. He loved you, couldn’t imagine spending his life without you. He had nothing but good intentions in being with you. But yet, the intentions that swirled around in his mind constantly, the ones that saw you on your knees, bent over, crying for him, body moving alongside him, eliciting you to do every sinful desire, every bad influence, in his heart were anything but good. Only fueled by your tiny size, how everything about him was too big for you, your innocence and wide eyed look to the world, and how that is visible in the way you dress like a naive slut without even realizing it. You were the completely opposite of him and him being able to taint you, leave his mark on you in that way by using that pureness in all the dirty ways he saw fit was a kink he would never get sick of.
As much as Michael wanted to fight back against his words as angrily as he felt. He didn’t. Because he knew you would come back and fix everything and he didn’t want his lapse of judgement to stick in your father’s memories. Despite what he thought, Michael loved you and knew you enough to know that.
But his words held the same amount of punch nonetheless. “Trust me anything I do to her, I don’t have to manipulate her to do it.” He told you that he’d try with your parents. But he never promised that he would try that hard.
And just like he predicted, you were sprinting over to them in an instant. He could only hope that you hadn’t heard his words, only enough to see your father’s veins practically pop out. You stood between and it might’ve been to spite your father that Michael stood at that moment, resting his hand on your hips and pulling you into him protectively. The top of your head just skimming his chest. Showcasing to your parents in visual terms that he was your boyfriend. Maybe it was their worst decision ever to allow you to move out and into university. But it was too late to regret it now. In fact, watching that realization dawn on them, seeing firsthand just what he had taken from the world, a proper innocent girl. You were his now, introduced to sex and pleasure by his hand, ruining you, when that was never meant to happen, just seemed to stoke the fire burning in him.
“Dad!” You stared at your father with a hurt gaze, allowing your figure to be held tightly by Michael.
+
You sighed dramatically as you entered the kitchen. Knowing that if your mother insisted on coming with you it was because you were about to have a talk, one you definitely did not want to hear.
“Y/N.” She started and you slumped against the counter, crossing your arms defensively. Just when you were starting to think she liked him, that things were going more smoothly than they started to be. 
“If you’re here to judge my boyfriend, I’d rather not hear it, mom.”
Your mother nodded as if she was on your side. “Oh, darling. I know all girls go through this phase of liking the boys like this and you’re in college now so everything seems so new and interesting. But if this is just you rebelling or trying to prove something to your father and I. Like, I don’t know maybe you resent us from keeping you from experiencing your teen years then…”
“A phase?!” You stared at her with horror. “You think this is a phase? That I’m with Michael because I’m trying to prove a point or something, I’ve been with him for 2 years mother!”
“And you are just now introducing us, what does that tell you?”
“That I knew you’d act like this and I didn’t want him to be put in a position where he has to defend his very existence! I’m not ashamed of him.”
Your mother touched her forehead in exasperation. “Listen to yourself defending him. Boys like him…they’re only interested in one thing and I don’t want you getting swept up in it, because it isn’t you. Don’t think Maia hasn’t told me all about him, too” You might kill your best friend before this dinner is over. “I raised a kind, gentle, wholesome girl and I don’t want to see what someone like him can do to that when he is very obviously anything but. He’s a bad influence! Honey, really he looks so cold and tense, like he’s half a beat away from killing someone. Can he really give you the love and care you’re used to? That you deserve? He’s walking a different path than you are. And one day you’ll wake up from this and realize that your father and I are right and that we’re just looking out for what’s best for you. You should be with boys more like you. Like Daniel! You remember him from church when you were little? His mother tells me he studies here too and I hear he has grown up very well, I-”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Was your mother seriously attempting to set you up while your boyfriend was in the other room? 
She was partly right. Michael had been walking a different path than you and he had changed you. He had introduced you to things you never could have imagined and you have been side by side with things you’ve been warned all your life to never partake in but he never forced you, he respected boundaries and he wanted to keep you safe and pure as much as anyone.He taught you everything you knew about the world and what it had to offer, he opened your eyes and other parts of yourself and you never felt more exhilarated and safe than with him.
But how were you supposed to tell her that your love for Michael wasn’t a desperate attempt of rebelling or a phase to do so. That you were already swept up in what ‘boys like him’ wanted and you were all too happy to fulfill that. You loved everything she was warning you about. You loved his possessiveness and how wanted you felt with him, how he treated you like a princess, gently yet so roughly. How he was so much bigger he could throw you around however he wanted and you were oh so happy to be his submissive toy. You felt cared for, despite him looking colder than he really was; in fact even more knowing you were an exception in his life, that he was only that way with you. Everything he taught you about sex and pleasure and how good he made you feel. 
 You weren’t going to wake up one day and see what they claimed was the truth. Because the real truth was, you couldn’t be happier with Michael. A man who respected you and made you feel like the center of the world, you’d never felt more loved and cared for than you did with him. And the thought of dating someone like Daniel when you’d already had a taste of Michael, his danger, his protection, his adoration, was dreadfully boring and distasteful.
You were going over your head how you were going to explain all this when the rough clanging of silverware sounded from the dining room. You’d been with Michael enough to know the sound of problem when you heard it. So you dashed away from the kitchen, leaving your mother to trail behind you without a word.
You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak. You saw your father’s angry face, replacing his usual collected strict one, but you didn’t even want to hear what Michael could have said to trigger it.
“I was so excited.” Your voice broke despite yourself, your eyes turning glassy. “I was so happy that the three most important people in my life were finally going to meet because I wanted you to love each other just as much as I love each of you.”
You squared your shoulders, happy that your parents were at least giving you the decency of listening. “The last thing I wanted was to subject my boyfriend to feeling inferior or like he isn't welcome or accepted. He doesn’t deserve that and I love him too much to put him in this position.” 
You felt Michael’s hands tighten around your figure but you kept talking. It broke his heart to see just how happy you had started the day and how you had finished it. “He might not be what you expected but I want to make it clear that the way I described him to you when I mentioned him, that is how I see him and it’s not my fault you’re too stuck on appearances or stereotypes to see that. He’s not taking advantage of me and he’s not a bad influence or using me or whatever I represent to satisfy some…perversion or whatever you think.” 
You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke that way to your parents. But at that moment, you couldn’t really care. You were too hurt, the excitement and hope you felt at the beginning was squashed and instead there was just a fierce protectiveness for the love of your life. “Michael tried but you couldn’t even give him that? I love him and he loves me and I've never felt more secure in being loved, adored or protected. He always looks out for me and never lets me do something that is bad for me. He has never pressured me to do anything and in fact, he's stopped me from being pressured to do things I’ve never done or wanted to do before. I can see a future with him and yet my own parents won’t even take the time to get to know him without already having made up their minds.”
It was your tears that had your parents glancing at each other guiltily before back to you. They weren’t being fair and while their minds were certainly not changed about Michael, they understood their need to at least tolerate him, especially when he meant so much to the only person that mattered in their eyes: you.
Your father spoke first, his eyes jumping around to avoid staring directly at Michael but he nodded as he forced his words out. “You’re right, darling. We’re sorry, to you and Michael. I think we just got caught off guard, plus we were already not going to like him - being your first boyfriend and all. Can’t blame us for being worried.”
And Michael should’ve expected it from his too kind girlfriend when you smiled through your shed tears. You nodded at his words as an acceptance of the apology, just happy they gave Michael one in the first place. You sniffled tearfully. “Of course, daddy. Thank you.” 
Okay, Michael would seriously have to force you to stop saying that to your father or else your dad would really hate him. And he’s afraid he wouldn’t give less of a fuck.
But then your parents were sitting down again, a time for a restart and so Michael guided you down, rubbing his hand up and down soothingly on your back. He knew your parents wouldn’t really ever change their minds about him - especially when, if he was honest, a lot of what they said about him deserving you or how he was changing you, were correct. But they didn’t understand your dynamic, that that very corruption of you was his favorite part. And he was teaching you to love it just as much.
“Yes, again, I’m very sorry Michael.” Your mother nodded at him, “And thank you, if all that she just said is true about looking out for her. Actually, we wanted to thank you. Since you started dating, our little bird has really stepped out of her shell.” You whined embarrassed and Michael fought back a smirk, he was helping you with that all right. But maybe your mother wouldn’t be thankful for that if she knew the truth. But your father just nodded along. 
Michael didn’t respond. He wasn't protecting you for your parents, he would protect you even without them. 
“We wondered who this man was that was helping her so much but now I see it’s because you’re so….free spirited” The reference to Michael’s tattoos couldn’t be more obvious. He couldn’t be nice to Michael even if he tried. But maybe a backhanded compliment was better than a boxing match. 
Michael hadn’t even wanted to wear an uncomfortable long sleeved shirt, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide all his ink anyway and he didn’t really care too much about the difference in your parents reactions if they’ll react negative to their daughters boyfriend having neck and hand tattoos anyway. But right then he thought maybe he had made the best choice. 
Michael watched them carefully. Tolerate. That’s all their new behavior was towards him and he could appreciate that. Because equally, he was forcing himself to be as proper as his mind would let him towards them. Of course, that didn’t mean he was anxious about their acceptance or good feelings towards him.
He had a feeling any future meetings would be like that, the knowing that neither of them really approved of him, the sneaky attempts of guiding you away but the general fake pleasantries thrown his way. And he would try not to ruin that by letting his anger cause him to speak his mind, he could be proper. 
And either you were blissfully unaware of the tense peace compromise between them or you didn’t care, but you just laid your head to rest on his shoulder as you listened to your parents prod more into Michael’s life, asking questions about their daughters boyfriend as if they were accepting him into their lives. You couldn’t be more grateful. And happy. It felt like it was true, your most loved ones were living side by side in harmony. It was everything you wanted and more. A bubbly smile filled your face that your parents, despite themselves, noted how starkly it stood out next to Michael’s tough face. 
They hadn’t tried to take you away from him, you were still in his arms. Along with the pride he felt at you standing up for him when you didn’t have to, when he was very aware of your feelings for him and secure in them. He felt more appreciative than he would ever let you know. All of that that was enough for Michael to play along, play nice and just wait for this entire meeting to be over with. Wait until he could finally be alone with you and content, like he wanted. Like he only ever was when it was just you two.
Besides, despite his best attempts, all these reminders of your differences had left him hornier than he would like to admit. His desires were flaring up to have your parents ‘pure little daughter who he didn’t deserve’ moaning under him. They couldn’t leave fast enough. 
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hacawijo · 4 years ago
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Azriel never said he was entitled to/deserved to be with Elain, those were Rhys’s words. Azriel said it didn’t make sense for two of the brothers to be with two of the sisters and not the third. Obviously it’s not the healthiest reasoning, but I think he’s reasoning in order to explain his strong feelings for Elain and to make sense of the powerlessness and envy he feels. Imagine pining after someone mostly unavailable and ultimately uninterested in you for 500 years, then finally finding someone else who makes you feel a lot of things and gets you better than maybe anyone else AND who is into you just as much as you are into them (he smells her arousal folks, Elain is super into Azriel and has been forever - literally fight me, I will give you receipts) and then to be forced to watch that person be essentially claimed, against their own preference, by someone else. Also, since when is it not absolutely certain that a fantasy romance ship is happening when someone expressly forbids it for political reasons??? That is such a classic trope!!
Azriel can’t catch a fucking break. How could you not have all of those feelings and then feel like fate screwed you when that person’s two sisters are destined for your two brothers? It’s a rationalization ADDED ON to the feelings he already has for Elain, he doesn’t have feelings for Elain because he thinks he’s entitled to her, he hopes that fate is showing him that his feelings are not in vain (AGAIN).
SJM herself said that she’s sprinkled breadcrumbs about Azriel’s story for a long time, which also makes me think Gwyn isn’t endgame because she’s such a new character. The moment between them in the bonus chapter actually reminds me a lot of Cassian’s moment with Emerie in ACOFAS. A lot of people predicted that he might be torn between her and nesta, but really it was just a way to flesh out that character outside of Nesta’s narrative. It seems more like SJM is trying to incorporate Gwyn into larger parts of the story and as more than just nesta’s friend. Perhaps what we need to glean from his interactions with Gwyn are the things Azriel values, and the personal growth he might go through, in a vocational sense, in the next book.
It makes him happy to make Gwyn happy because he ultimately cares very strongly for people who have suffered and survived and thrived. Cassian cares about what happens to the illyrians, Azriel doesn’t - the Valkyrie (to an extent) and the illyrians are Cassian’s mission, Azriel doesn’t have anything like that, yet. Azriel doesn’t like the violent things he does for the court, and that is probably part of why he feels so unfulfilled and lost. The most valuable things he has done have been the type of thing he did in saving Gwyn at Sangravah and training the priestesses with Cassian. This is all rooted, of course, in the suffering he witnessed his mother go through. All three of the illyrians are defined by the violence and wrongs done to their mothers, and two of them have found ways to make relative peace with those wrongs. Azriel has begun to and has done much to help wronged women and children and people, but I don’t think he’s had his Aha! Moment yet in the way that Rhys and Cassian have. His interaction with Clotho feels like an indication of his greater purpose, an alternative concern to his romantic woes re: Elain.
I’m not saying this means that Gwyn ISNT involved in a romantic way in the next book, but I think it’s hasty to assume it’s romantic just because Azriel has a meaningful, connected moment with her. Think about Manon and Elide or Feyre and Lucien, two friendships that bridged a lot of characters together and that could have gone in a romantic direction but didn’t. She tends to do that more with friendships than romantic relationships I think. I also think there was a clearer indication of Emerie’s interest in Mor than Gwyn’s in Azriel (I know there’s more interaction between Azriel and Gwyn, but Emerie is clearly into Mor when she says she doesn’t come around Windhaven anymore), and it seems almost as tidy to have Azriel and Mor end up with the other two Valkyries as for Azriel to end up with the third sister. Azriel, Mor, and Cassian are very nearly as much a sacred trio as the Illyrians. Also, I think it’s more likely that Mor will end up with Emerie because she hasn’t had a real romantic interest be yet revealed (the only thing I can think of is Viviane’s younger sister, but that was also superrrrrrrrrr subtle and I might have read too far into the text) and SJM pretty much never decides to start those in the course of one book (of which this extra Azriel POV chapter would be a part).
I also just want to say that Elain has been consistently uncomfortable with Lucien. He gets her the gloves for solstice, and it’s because he has a fundamental misunderstanding of her as a person. He sees her as something delicate to be sheltered and protected from thorns and elements, but that’s actually one of the things Elain loves most about gardening, and is probably how she wishes she could live her life if given the freedom and confidence. In the Feysand chapter, Feyre specifically mentions the gloves that Lucien got Elain and the consequences of Elain not wearing them. On the surface it seems silly because she hurt herself, using the gloves makes total sense, but Rhys and Feyre are actually talking about Elain as someone who is growing and who actually likes to get dirty and FEEL things. It would make COMPLETE sense for Elain to be with Lucien, he’s her mate and he’s courtly and traditional (for a high fey, anyway) and it would be very politically tidy. But maybe this new, changed Elain just doesn’t want that anymore. Maybe she thinks Azriel’s scarred hands are beautiful because they’re nothing other than what they are, and she’s not afraid of having her own scars (I.e. the thorns).
I don’t know for sure that it’s a great sign that Azriel got Elain jewelry. That could be an indication that he sees her beauty and delicacy similarly to the way Lucien does, and certainly he is protective of Elain. BUT think it could mean something different because it was juxtaposed with the pearl earrings that Lucien gave Elain. They were plain, we’ve never had any indication that Elain is interested in pearls or even regular jewelry. SJM OBVIOUSLY put much more thought into the description of the necklace and AZRIEL OBVIOUSLY put much more thought into his gift for Elain than Lucien did. He thought about Elain and what she means to him and gave her something that appears gently beautiful and informal but is even more lovely when someone PAYS CLOSER ATTENTION TO IT, as Azriel always does with everything, and especially Elain.
just can’t imagine SJM having anything that is awkward and at best uncomfortable and uncommunicative turn into an endgame relationship. Elain and lucien have no passion, neither sexual nor antagonistic nor romantic. All of her relationships tend to involve a pretty instant attraction and ongoing tension with tiny little moments sprinkled in from the get. Elain is only ever uncomfortable around Lucien. On the other hand, she is innately comfortable with Azriel pretty immediately (again ask for receipts and I will give them).
They also meet each other pre-cauldron, Lucien is literally like, “she’s my mate!” During one of the most traumatic and dissonant moments of Elain’s life. Remember how much Rhys DIDNT MAKE FEYRE’S LIFE OR TRAUMA ABOUT HIM???? He waited FOREVER to tell her about the bond, was pretty certain he could never be with her, would have been happy to never tell her and just have her be happy. Cassian was pretty sure of the bond with nesta and did not come close to mentioning it until they declared themselves together forever. Rowan and Aelin were also terrified to admit to each other that they were mates, again because they worried what it might do to negatively affect the other. But there’s Elain, fresh outta the cauldron, they all heard her screams and saw her terror and despair, and the first thing he says is “she’s MY mate.”
Also want to be clear I’m not trying to hate on Lucien. I mentioned above that Lucien is used to being pretty courtly and traditional, I think he was raised in the autumn court and has a very traditional understanding of what the mating bond means. I don’t think he is ever trying to claim Elain because he’s inherently trying to ignore her wishes or control her, but because he feels that bond and believes in the fact that it is sacred. Elain was born human, doesn’t really understand the significance of mates the way Lucien does. Of course she wouldn’t have a matching reverence. Elain is used to love and building trust and a relationship with someone over time and with patience. Which is exactly how her relationship with Az progresses.
Really think about Elain and Lucien, what about them seems compatible? He plays the game, he’s clever, his specialty is in people and he likes to have repartee with those he’s close to. Elain is pretty much always herself, she doesn’t change to suit her company, and she frankly doesn’t seem to love figuring people out. She loves being with the people she loves, but the politics of people don’t interest her - nature interests her. She’s kind in a way that Lucien would probably probably find boring in someone who isn’t his mate. In ACOSF, nesta is constantly thinking about the difference in her relationship with her mother from the relationships her mother had with her sisters. She makes it really clear that Elain never knew how to handle people in the same way as nesta or any courtier, and that she wasn’t really all that interested in intrigue or politic (which is why their mother was never interested in Elain). Elain and Lucien do not understand each other and do not understand the other’s passions or motivations. I like Lucien, I don’t love him the way that some folks do, probably because I never really got over his failure to feyre in ACOMAF, but I do want him to be happy. I think he can’t give Elain what she wants or needs and vice versa.
Lastly I want to talk about symmetry and fresh narrative. At this point, mating bonds are pretty played out. SJM has set a lot of groundwork re: the fact that mating bonds are NOT always perfect, and are NOT always happy. Rhys talks a lot about his mother and father. They were very unhappy together; they did not understand each other. It sounds like Rhys’s father was a politician and Rhys’s mother was wild and raw and genuine. This is part of the reason he waits so long to tell Feyre about the bond (and obviously he doesn’t even get to tell her, she finds out on her own). I am definitely not trying to say that Lucien is like Rhys’s father, he’s not, he’s a much better person, but I do think that the differences in Rhys’s parents’ values and passions mirror the dissonance that can be felt between Lucien and Elain as well. I think all of the wind was taken out of the relationship before it started because Lucien named Elain as his mate so quickly- it was really unearned. It is so EARNED in Feyre and Rhys’s story and Aelin and Rowan’s.
I think the idea of choosing love over nature is actually extraordinary. Elain, who has never really had a choice in her whole life, will make the most subversive and difficult choice of the series by rejecting her mating bond. And Azriel, who has never believed himself worthy of good things, will be chosen over a mating bond because he is so extraordinarily deserving of happiness and love and to be truly chosen as someone else’s paramour even beyond the influence of a mating bond. Is there any greater narrative validation of Azriel than that???? SJM writes grand, dramatic cosmic payback for her characters, and this would be a crowning achievement in that vein.
As for Lucien, what he has needed is a way out of the lines he’s always been expected to live in. He was never at home in the autumn court, he was never truly at home in the spring court, and despite Elain, he is definitely never at home in the night court. Lucien’s love, the thing that made him more happy than anything else in his life, was inherently unconventional, and then the convention he lived in destroyed it. Letting go of Elain and the mating bond will be the best way for him to reject the rules that have confined him for his entire, mostly miserable life. Elain will choose Azriel, and Lucien will choose to let her go, not just for Elain but also for himself. I’m willing to bet he might even give up his immortal life to be with Vassa and Jurian. Obviously that whole trio’s dynamic is still pretty murky, but I THINK he seems to be into Vassa (hell who knows - maybe he’s into jurian). Certainly he is happier with them than he has ever been anywhere else (tamlin was Lucien’s dear friend, but Lucien was also fucking terrified of him), and maybe it’s not and will never be about romantic fulfillment for him. That being said, that seems unlikely given SJM’s tendency to pair off her characters.
As for people being mad about the sex stuff...... have we not been reading the same books? Cassian and Rhys have both made it clear to Feyre that Az can get it, he hasn’t been chastely pining for Mor his whole life. Nesta also specifically confirms in this newest installment that Elain is not a virgin, hello bread crumb set up. Elain and Azriel are both sexually active adults who are sexually attracted to each other. Why should they not be able to have agency over their own sexuality in the same way as all of the other characters? Because they’re shy? Because they seem nicer and gentler?
I think it’s actually really infantilizing to make Elain a victim/inactive participant in her solstice interaction with Azriel. Sure, narrators aren’t always reliable, but SJM always uses the fey scent as a story device to confirm sexual interest and initial/general consent for the reader without suspicion or misinterpretation. I. E. Nesta and cassian both had really warped understandings of how the other felt about them for a lot of ACOSF, but they always came back to knowing for certain that they were sexually attracted to each other. That is something that SJM makes pretty freakin clear in most situations. I don’t think that Azriel thought anything that was darker or dirtier than anything Rhys or cassian has thought about feyre and nesta. In fact it was definitely less kinky than how cassian and nesta often thought of each other sexually before they really got together.
Also, a lot of elain’s reactions to Lucien in ACOWAR remind me of mor’s reactions to Azriel throughout the series. You could tell she was feeling some type of way, but in reality it was guilt and sorrow that she couldn’t return his feelings, not that she was tortured by her love for him. I feel like when Lucien goes to the continent and Elain displays emotion about it it’s more about the fact that she feels bad she doesn’t feel more for him even though she does feel the bond. I’m sure it was really confusing for her. Elain’s reactions to Azriel, though, remind me more of the little snippets of interaction between Aedion and Lysandra before they had more POV in the ToG series and also those between cassian and nesta in ACOMAF and ACOWAR before THEY had POV chapters.
Wow so yeah here’s my dissertation. I hope someone out there reads this and is like YES THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY, because I love when I find posts like that.
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letterstomilen · 4 years ago
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i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)
Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.
Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 
“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.
(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)
“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”
“You said that six seasons ago.”
Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”
“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.
Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.
(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)
“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”
A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.
Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)
Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.
Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.
“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”
“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.
“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”
“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.
“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”
Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.
“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”
“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.
“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.
Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.
 Childe
12:35
ur a horrible influence on tonia
 Childe
12:35
and whos this ZHONGLI
 Childe
12:35
also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os
 Twin 1
12:37
a normal person would say hi
 Twin 1
12:37
also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school
 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?
 Childe
12:38
thats not very convincing
 Childe
12:38
also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares
 Twin 1
12:39
isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12
 Childe
12:42
thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”
 Twin 1
12:42
well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk
 Childe
12:42
whats asmr
 Childe
12:43
asking for my sister btw
 Twin 1
12:44
A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.
 Childe
12:45
wtf?
 Twin 1
12:45
people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????
 Childe
12:45
idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos
 Twin 1
12:47
… makes sense
 Twin 1
12:47
check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type
 Childe
12:48
i thought we were talking about my sister????
 Twin 1
12:50
[message screenshots.jpg]
 Twin 1
12:50
ya she told me everything
 Twin 1
12:50
have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA
 Childe
12:51
hope he does it
He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)
It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)
When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.
The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.
Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.
Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.
“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”
Holy shit.
For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)
His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.
Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”
This time is different though.
Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.
And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.
The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)
Oh God — oh fuck.
“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)
“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)
“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”
“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”
“Huh?”
The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?
“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.
“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.
“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”
“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”
“Yeah.”
Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.
Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.
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razzstrid · 4 years ago
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Lil Peep: Everybody’s Everything
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As those of you know my OCD w music runs deep and I go through intense periods obsessing over one artist at time. I am like years behind my fellow gen Z pals and so I am just now discovering Lil peep. And so for the past month I think I have gone through every piece of music lil peep has produced from start to finish. I am just as surprised as you are. That being said I was so psyched to watch this doc. I saw that it premiered at SXSW and Terrence Malik was an executive producer which is just *chefs kiss*. It got a fucking 100% on Rotten Tomatoes and averaged 73% on IMBd and Metacritic .. but Jesus Christ was that misleading. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge fan of Lil Peep — I think he is deeply talented and creative and the doc did a good job highlighting that .. but maybe a lil too much. I will actually start of by saying that a lot of things in this doc touched me — how they destigmatized those who take a less traditional path after high school; how they really emphasized the unwaveringly loving and supportive relationship between Lil Peep and his grandpa; lil peep’s genuine good-heartedness and commitment to his friends and family; his rigor and tenacity in transcending the capitalist hierarchy of the music industry with his DIY approach to music coming from a less privileged family... like I really really admire him. Im rambling but in all seriousness the doc was fucked up. Fucked up. His avid drug addiction was glorified to a stupidly obvious extent: he was always “going hard” and “pushing the limits” in efforts of always “out-drugging” his friends — like what, you want to give him a fucking award? His lousy manager, Bryant Ortega, spoke so fondly about Peep throughout the doc but was pictured multiple times as more of a paparazzi than a fucking manager — taking pictures of Lil peep and his squad railing numerous lines of coke while sipping on lean. At one point in the doc there was footage of Lil Peep performing a show in LA when he had taken too much of something. He tells his managers he might not be able to go on yet he does ... a fucking lawyer says on camera that he was “worried whether or not Lil Peep would be able to find the stage” yet they do nothing and encourage him to go on. There he is shown on the stage, barely mumbling the words to “Hellboy” and taking sporadic breaks to put him head in his elbow ... meanwhile instead of grabbing this kid off the stage and putting him in a fucking ambulance his management team is huddled in the the wings of the stage, egging him on and debating whether or not they should call in a fake fire alarm to cancel the show. This is happening as Lil Peep sings his songs of depression, anxiety, and loneliness — everyone hates me but nobody knows me; looking for a reason to live but I can’t find shit; everything hurts, everything gets worse. That’s some really dark irony and it doesn’t stop there... These fucking bottom feeders of a management team flood the stage with fog to hide Lil peep as he become increasingly despondent and dissociative ... it was so fucking hard to watch this. But alas, Peep snaps out of his drug-induced daze and finishes the show seamlessly... and afterwards goes up to a talent lawyer at the show and says “see I told you I could do it.” The next clip features the lawyer astounded by Lil Peep’s performance along with the constellation of talent agents and scouts who attended that show ... oh great, another lost, vulnerable artist who was never taught how to handle fame... I kept on waiting for a comment from someone, anyone proclaiming their worry for lil peep’s drug abuse and mental health but not a single one ever came. Multiple clips in the same vein followed the lawyers comment — different management team members commending Lil Peep for basically not dying. Haza, another successful show manipulating and capitalizing off a deeply depressed, troubled young artist. These people are fucking sick — acting like role models and fostering a “trustworthy” relationship with lil peep built on the basis of manipulation disguised as devotion — they didn’t care about Lil peep but they sure did fool him by providing the tools and substances notorious for self destruction while entirely ignoring his well-being and denying his paralyzing misery which were the main theme of his lyrics. ISNT YOUR JOB TO LISTEN TO HIS SONGS? OH AND MAYBE THE LYRICS? Get a fucking grip. I utterly believe these people knew what they were doing to lil peep and chose their deranged careers over someone’s life. I hope to fuckijg god these people don’t have children but I’m pretty sure some of them do. Six months later Lil Peep was announced dead after taking a lethal amount of fentanyl laced. Snapchat and instagram videos are shown in the doc of Lil Peep passed out, unconscious in the background — his head entirely arched back and his body limp. Over the span of what was said to be 4-5 hours,  not one person even thought to check on him. The interviews that follow these heartbreaking clips are just an amalgamation of lies, denial, ignorance, and palpable inauthenticity— his fake friends and scum of the earth management team either deny the “conspiracy” behind his death, lie through their teeth in their “oblivion” to peep’s drug problem and depression, or project falsified grief. Dude like all these idiots interviewed for the doc talk ab how Peep never expressed his grief or depression... COULD HAVE JUST ONE OF YOU FOUND YOUR DAMN VOICE ??? I mean you sure did to ask Peep for drugs and money you fucking leeches. If someone would have just expressed the tiniest hint of grief, the tiniest bit of remorse in not speaking up or expressing their concern maybe Lil Peep would still b here today and this god awful, tone deaf documentary wouldn’t exist. What’s even worse is that these people are still profiting off Lil Peep — through this doc, through all of the demos and songs that were released after his death. It’s so funny (really actually not funny at all in the slightest) that Peep’s manager Bryant Ortega rambles about how as a celebrity you can snap your fingers and get anything you want: “girls, blow, booze”... (Thank u Sam for stating how girls were put on the same level as cocaine and alcohol) .. anyways yeah that statement seems to be limited to self destructive substances and empty material items. How bout some therapy? Ever heard of in-patient or out-patient? Psychiatry? This doc Obviously really upset me. Watching Lil peep self-sabotage through his inability to say no, over-generosity with his time and money, and emotional labor in maintaining falsified companionships was so heartbreaking. Really seemed like such a genuinely sweet kid who deserved a longer, much more fruitful and a much better support system instead of a fleet of clout chasers. Agh this all just really didn’t sit well with me. Rip lil peep
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omgpanda · 4 years ago
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Not the most traditional affair
AN: This is a work in progress I am only posting a snippet to see if this is something people would like to read. This is my FIRST EVER work.
*Note: this not in anyway true, so any use of names is pure coincidental*
I drag my feet from my car to the building directly in front me, I am exhausted, stressed and much rather be anywhere else than here. I open the doors and start making my way to elevator, not taking time to notice my surroundings. I don’t really need to pay attention to where I am going, I know this building like that back of my hand. It is where all my classes are and where my professor’s office is. I make it to the elevator and for the first time that day, I see my reflection. I sigh and try to make myself look more presentable. My long chestnut hair is frizzy beyond fixing, so I decide to put in a pony tail. My eyes are bloodshot, and I am dressed in a tshirt and leggings. I sigh again at the sight of me, so decide to just add some lip gloss so that I don’t appear so dead to the world. I don’t even know why I am concerned about how I look, I am just going to my professor’s office hours to discuss my last assignment in the semester. This isnt the first time I visit this same professor. His class has been excruciatingly hard. Well then again, if you take a class called Digital Systems you can’t really expect it to be a cakewalk. The first interaction I had with this professor was interesting to say the least. I just walked in casually, talking with my hands as usual. What was not usual, the way he was very quiet and just distancing himself from me. I didnt think too much about it until much later. It felt as if I made him nervous rather than him making me nervous. I never had that experience before, making a professor nervous There is nothing extraordinary about me that could have elicited that reaction . I am 5 ‘4, average build, average weight. Like many other girls out there, I don’t think of myself as exceptionally beautiful just average. Yet for some reason, he made me feel as if I really am more than just me. Why else would he be nervous for the first 5 meetings we had? I finally reach professor Amar’s office and mentally tell myself to not get off topic. After the first strange encounter, I kept coming back to visit him. The visit always starts the same, he’s kind of reserved and to himself until I ask for help and then somehow we get off topic. Last week’s meeting started with me asking a homework question and then ended with him asking me what music I listen to. Though I was in the worst mood walking into the building, that somehow changed as soon as I knocked on his door. “Come in” Professor Amar says. Professor Amar, is also just an ordinary guy, medium build 5 ‘ 10 and has a younger face though I know he’s getting close to 40; something I found out during our previous meetings. I dubbed him as ‘adorkable’ because in a sense he was cute, maybe not traditionally handsome but there was something about him that made him appear sweet. He is soft spoken and doesn't speak too loudly, if I’m not careful I could miss what he says though he is right in front of me. I open the door, close it right behind me and take my usual seat right across from him. “Hello professor, I wanted to talk the final project I am worried that I didn’t well enough or maybe I am just overthinking..” Before I realize I start going on a tangent about how stressful this semester has been. It is not until he says my name that I fully stop. “Jane, you don’t have to worry I graded it and you did well. Congrats.” I jump up out of my seat for joy and thank him profusely. To which he says “no need to thank me, you have earned this!” He gets up to shake my hand and take it upon myself to just hug him. Normally I would never do this, however in the moment I didn’t think about it.  As matter of fact, I saw him almost every week and started to feel comfortable around him and I can clearly see he also grew comfortable. While embracing him, he freezes like a deer caught in headlights. I eventually notice and back away completely embarrassed. “ I am so sorry, that was totally inappropriate” feeling disappointed as I start to collect my things to run out of there. “No it is okay, it was just unexpected was all. Stay” he says as he notices me making my way to the door. I think that he has asked me to stay so that we can talk about other things like always. “I listened to the songs that you recommended to me last week. They were really good”. I start to remember the songs I recommended, it was a variety from different genres. They were my favorite songs and I felt comfortable sharing it with him. For the first time ever, I start to feel nervous being in front of him. I shared a lot of things with him and I just wonder what he thinks of me. I would be lying if I said I never thought about something beyond our meetings. Hell, he even started to invade my dreams. Just a regular ordinary guy, yet he was in my thoughts even during the most private moments. I didn’t want to be here today because I knew this would be the last time that I had a reason to see him. I wonder if these office meetings have become important to him as they have for me.  I wonder a lot of things all at once, what does his hair feel like, are his hands as soft as the look, does he think about me in the way I think about him?
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novacxlum · 5 years ago
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the wedding planner
in which you’re a wedding planner working on the biggest party of your career with more than a few bumps along the way
a/n: facts about this piece: 
1: this isnt much like anything ive ever written and doesn’t rly sound like me AT ALL
2: its really quite long, like nearly 25 pages in word
3: this is very much based on the jennifer lopez movie bc its SO good
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You squint under the bright sunlight as you rush down the bustling city streets; it’s an unusually warm day in southwest London and you can’t help but curse yourself for not checking the weather. If your arms weren’t so full, you’d shrug off your cardigan, but between your phone and purse and binder, you can’t find a spare hand.
“Listen, Izzy, tell Joelle to stop freaking out. We’ll just tour venues tomorrow, instead. Call her and make sure she’s okay, tell her I’ll call them all.”
“Do you still have the list or do you want me to send it to you again?” Your assistant and best friend’s voice echoes tinnily through the phone and you purse your lips. You can barely focus on the question, the heat beginning to become unbearable. Your shoulder is becoming sore from bumping into everyone on the crowded sidewalk.
“Um, I may have it, but can you send me an extra copy just in case?” You fit your phone between your ear and shoulder and you begin to rifle through your binder.
“Yeah, for sure. She also wants to add Heavenly Hollow onto that list. I’ve got their number right here, can I read it off to you?”
You look up from your binder to gauge the distance to your crosswalk and pull a pen from your hair, find a blank page, and say, “Yeah, but hurry.”
You listen to her speak quickly and jot down the number as fast as your fingers will move. Just as you begin to walk across the crosswalk, you stick your pen back behind your ear. “Okay, call me when you get home.”
“Will do,” you grin, saying your goodbyes and listening to her hang up.
You struggle to get your phone out from its secure place. Someone’s shoulder hits yours particularly hard and you grunt as it falls from your arms. You gasp as papers fly around you and you hastily sheathe your phone in your pocket and crouch down, fumbling with your papers. If this weren’t the most important wedding of your career, you’d have left them, but you know there are papers here that Izzy doesn’t have and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let Joelle Christiansen the same wedding treatment you give everyone else.
“Hey!” The word rings loudly in your ears. You barely hear it, still struggling to get your papers back in their spots. “Hey, ma’am!” This time you look up; not at the man yelling, presumably at you, but at the tourist bus hurtling straight toward you.
“Shit,” you whisper, clutching your binder and standing to your full height. You take a step, and before you can get anywhere, the wind is knocked from you. There are arms wrapped tightly around you, but your back slams into the cement of the sidewalk. You groan, still gripping your binder as the sounds of screeching rubber from the bus ring through the air.
“Jesus, are you okay?” A Welsh accent asks. Your eyes, which you had not realized were still closed, blink open. You let a deep breath out and look at your savior.
And, good god, was he a savior. A beautiful one at that. You clear your throat and close your eyes again, your heart still pounding. “Did I get all my papers?” You ask, and he chuckles ludicrously.
“Yeah, love, I think you did.”
“Thank Christ.” You breathe, dropping your head back. You eyes immediately snap open. “And thank you! Seriously, I owe you my life.”
He laughs softly, and as you stare up at him, you become acutely aware that you’re still trapped beneath a strong contender for the most handsome man you had ever seen. You sit up quickly and he falls to sit beside you. “Are you alright?” He asks again, and you let out a huffy breath, blowing your hair from your face.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” The two of you stand, you gratefully taking his hand when he offers it. “Hey, let me buy you a coffee or something. It’s the least I could do.” You plead, still holding your binder close to your chest.
“I shouldn’t,” he breathes softly, and you give him the smallest of all smiles.
“Please. It doesn’t even have to be a coffee, I just owe you.”
“Coffee would be lovely.” He admits. Your face splits into a grin and you hold out your hand.
“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
He accepts your handshake and the two of you begin to walk toward the cafe just around the corner. “Taron,” The name is familiar, but you suppose it isn’t an entirely uncommon name. You furrow your brows as you try to remember exactly where you’ve heard the name. “So, what exactly is in the binder? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Oh, it’s just, uh, work stuff.” You chuckle. “It’s a big client.”
“Big enough to risk your life over?” He asks teasingly, sticking his hands in his pockets.
You laugh softly. “You have no idea.” You shrug off your sweater and lay it over your arm.
“Well, hey, I hope it works out for you,” he admits, pulling open the door for you. You thank him, walking into the cafe.
The two of you order, and despite Taron’s insistence, you pay for his drink. As the two of you sit at a table, you begin to wonder how you got so lucky. Sure, you may have nearly died, but there’s a silver lining to every cloud. You laugh at all his jokes, not because you feel that you have to, but because you actually think they’re funny. It had been a long, long time since you had met someone you saw something in, and it felt as though you and Taron were operating on the same wavelength.
With a quick glance at your watch, you gasp softly and begin to grab your things. “Taron, this has been lovely, truly, but I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
“Where are you rushing to?” He asks curiously as you grab your things.
Shrugging your sweater on, you smile. “My best friend, Izzy, and I go to outdoor movies in the park every Friday. She should be getting there by now.”
“Oh, they’re playing An Affair to Remember tonight, right?” He asks, and you cock your head.
“Yeah, actually. Do you go see them?”
“I used to, a few years back. I haven’t gone in ages.” He admits. You grin, stuffing your binder in your oversized purse.
“Well, hey. If you’re looking to reminisce, you are very welcome to join us.”
“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I’m not going to be able to make it tonight,” Izzy says apologetically.
“Izzy, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, okay? Next weekend.” You sigh softly, looking to Taron’s confused face.
“I’m sorry, okay? I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I love you. Bye,” you hang up with a soft sigh and look to the man standing beside you. “So, Izzy isn’t going to make it.” You quirk the corner of your mouth up.
“Oh, damn.”
“Hey, if you want to bail, that’s fine.” You assure, and he makes a playfully offended face.
“I could never.” He teases. He offers you a package of M&M’s and you hold out your hand, clutching onto the candies he pours into your hand.
The two of you listen to the music in silence, waiting for the sky to darken enough for the movie to start. As much as you adore the tradition with Izzy, you’re grateful to have what felt suspiciously like a first date. You look over to Taron and already find his gaze on your face, causing you to blush. He inspects you and you raise a brow, a silent challenge. Instead of saying anything, he shakes his head with a smile and scoots the smallest bit closer to you.
Within moments, the movie is beginning.
“That movie is terrible.” Taron criticizes, and you glare at him, nudging his ribs with your elbow.
“It’s not! It’s one of the most romantic movies of all time.” You defend, and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s such a cop-out. The ending would be so much more impactful if they never ended up together.”
The crowd begins to disperse as the moviegoers began to leave, but you and Taron remained seated on the grass. Your thighs pressed together and your hands rest on the ground behind you to hold up your weight, making you blush every time Taron’s arm brushes against your back.
“I think it’s sweet. I like happy endings.” You admit softly, your gaze resting upon the smooth skin of his face.
“There aren’t always happy endings.” He reminds you, making you roll your eyes, looking away from him.
“So cynical,” you tease, making his shoulders shake lightly as he laughs quietly. He turns to look at you, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Maybe so.” He accepts, his eyes still trained on you. You begin to falter beneath his stare, looking into his bright eyes and allowing your own smile to take root.
The silence is nearly stifling, and you feel his hand move near yours, his fingers brushing over your own. You let out a breath, the anticipation burning in the pit of your stomach. He leans toward you, just slightly, and you subconsciously mirror his movements. He’s only inches away when you hear a voice cutting through the cool air.
“Hey! We think it’s gonna start raining, you might want to pack up.” Your head swings around and you catch sight of a security guard.
You nod and hear Taron’s thanks, mate before the two of you stand, looking to one another. The air is awkward now that you’ve been interrupted, so you laugh softly. “I should go. Thank you, for everything today.”
“It was truly my pleasure, (Y/N).” He assures, and you grin. You purse your lips, looking to him before booking a thumb over your shoulder.
“I’ll see you around?”
You see him narrow his eyes, but he nods, a sweet smirk pulling at his mouth. “Yeah, of course.”
You turn and fight the smile at the thought of him, and you want to roll your eyes for already being enamored by him, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It isn’t until you’re nearly home that you begin to berate yourself for not getting his number.
“So what, you just didn’t ask for his number?” Lewis asks, and you glare at your father’s best friend from across the table.
“No, Lewis, I didn’t.”
“Well, did you at least kiss him?” His wife asks. You purse your lips and avert your eyes to your coffee mug.
“I mean, technically--”
“Come on!” You father cries, making you shake your head.
Saturdays were your designated days to spend with your father. Saturday mornings, anyway. It was hard to get Saturdays off with work, spending most weekend afternoons and evenings with brides touring, tasting, and tailoring. It was busy, and most days physically exhausting, but it was worth it. At least, you seemed to think so.
You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee, changing the subject immediately. “Anyway, we’re touring venues today, I’m hoping we can finally pick one and start setting vendors in place.”
“You work too hard,” Katherine scolds, and you smile at her.
“I’m not working too hard, I’m just dedicated.” You shake your head, looking to your father.
“Don’t get yourself too worked up over this wedding, (Y/N/N), or you may actually get hit by a bus. Literally or figuratively.”
“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes playfully, laughing softly under your breath.
There’s a soft knock on the front door and you look over, your brows furrowed in curiosity as your father cries, “Come in!”
The door opens just as you begin to lecture your father. “You cannot just let random people into your house, dad. Do you want to be robbed?”
“C’mon, do you really think I’d rob him?” A familiar voice asks, and you blanch.
“(Y/N), you remember Colin.” Lewis reintroduces his son, and you watch him with wide eyes.
“Uh, yeah, of course.”
How could you possibly forget? You had grown up with him; you’d known him as long as you can remember. Lewis and Katherine’s son was, in a way, your first love. For years, you’d pined over the man. In fact, you still felt your heart race at the sight of him. Colin, however, had been several years older than you and as far as you were concerned, far out of your league.
You stand as he approaches you, reciprocating his actions as he wraps you in a tight hug. “God, you look so different! You look great.” He grips your hips and you allow him to push you away as he looks at you from a distance, gripping his elbows. “Really great.”
“You too,” You breathe, looking up at his face. He flashes a grin and you offer a bashful smile, feeling the heat rise up your neck.
“Can you two get a room?” Lewis teases, breaking you from your reverie. You clear your throat and allow your hands to fall, ignoring Colin’s chuckle from behind you as you turn to face your father. You ignore your burning cheeks, giving a convincing smile.
“Y’know, Colin is single.” Katherine admits, a knowing grin on her face and a playful twinkle in her eyes. You make eye contact with your father, who shrugs and stands to get Colin a cup.
“Thanks, mum. Really.” You hear Colin chuckle. He nudges your arm to get your attention. “We should catch up.” He offers.
Your mind immediately goes to Taron, and though you nearly blush again just at the thought of him, you begin to wonder if you’ll ever even see him again.
“Yeah, totally.” You nod, a friendly smile on your face. You can’t tell if you’re accepting because you’re being polite, or if you actually want to go, but you sigh.
He flashes you a blinding smile before walking to the kitchen to meet your father. You sit at the table, glaring at Katherine and Lewis.
“You did that on purpose.” You accuse. Katherine just shakes her head, taking a sip from her mug.
She had been the only person to know of your childhood crush on her son, and though you had sworn to her for years that it was over, she never fully believed you. You hadn’t seen Colin in about six years, and distance had done you well.
Out of sight, out of mind.
But now, Colin was very much back in your sights. As you peer into the doorway of the kitchen and see him laughing with your father, you wonder if it was in everyone’s best interest that you might pursue a relationship with him. After all, he was still extremely handsome. And kind, a generous person since the time you were young children. It was difficult for you to find fault in him, something you had tried and failed at doing whilst trying to get over him years ago.
You sigh, crossing the table to say your goodbyes to your father’s friends. Gripping your cup, you hesitantly venture to the kitchen to rinse your mug and say goodbye to your father and Colin. You peek in the doorway, catching only a second of their hushed conversation before fully stepping in. Colin catches your eye and grins. Your father twists to look at you.
“Hey, love, you leaving?” He asks, reaching out to take your mug. You hand it to him with a grateful smile and nod.
“Yeah, I’ve got to be at a venue in thirty minutes.” You sigh, hugging your father.
“Hey, (Y/N), can I have a word?” Colin asks softly. You look at your father, offering a soft smile.
“Yeah, for sure.”
You watch your father set your mug in the sink and exit the room awkwardly, a small laugh falling from your lips.
Colin watches you carefully, smiling softly as you turn your attention to him. You push yourself to sit on the counter, looking at him with curiosity in your eyes. “What’s up?” You ask, tapping your fingers on your thigh.
“Would you allow me to take you to dinner?”
You try to hide your shock, but you can’t get out many words, so you say, “What?”
He laughs, loud and warm and you can’t help but smile at the sound. “I want to take you out.” He says again. You shake your head to clear your mind and nod.
“That would be lovely, Colin.” You say. You know now you’re accepting because you want to. As much as you hate to admit it, there are still residual feelings for Colin. He grins, nodding.
“Okay, great. I hope you don’t feel that I’m too eager, but how’s tomorrow night?”
This could not have been described as anything but your childhood dream. You can’t help but break into a smile, sitting up a little taller as he approaches you. “Tomorrow night sounds wonderful.”
“You slut!” Izzy gasps, punching your arm.
You can’t help but laugh, pushing her away from you. “It isn’t that big of a deal,” You assure her. “It’s just Colin.”
“But you didn’t tell me about the other guy. What’s his name? What does he do? Did you get his number?” She pressures, walking beside you. Her voice echoes through the eerily quiet church and you want to scold her for yelling, but you can’t find it in you.
“His name was Taron, I don’t know, and no. And we didn’t even kiss, it was barely a date.” You patiently reply, flipping through the pages on your planner.
“That’s kind of a coincidence.” She mumbles, pulling your purse off your shoulder.
Your eyes remain on the papers before you as you move your arm to give her access to your bag. You don’t bother asking what she’s doing as she rifles through your belongings. “Why?” You ask, finally reaching the page you’ve been searching for. The binder was still a mess, no longer the organized, clean collection you were so proud of. Papers were wrinkled and out of sorts, the pages you had lost reprinted just to be shoved in the front pocket.
“Our groom’s name is Taron.”
You gasp and look up at her. “That’s right! I knew it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember who it was.”
“We’re finally gonna meet him today.” She reveals, and your eyebrows shoot up. She immediately begins to address the silent question in your eyes. “Well, if you weren’t so busy going to movies with handsome strangers and being asked out by literal brain surgeons--”
“Colin isn’t a brain surgeon.” You scoff, looking up at her through your lashes.
“He’s a surgeon of some sorts, who cares? Anyway, I tried to call you last night and tell you, because Joelle told me when I called to talk about the venues.” She finally finds what she’s looking for, a pack of gum spilled at the bottom of your bag.
“Well, that’s good. It’s not often we get this far in the process without meeting the groom.” You sigh, closing the binder. She hands you a stick of gum, popping her own piece into her mouth.
“Well, Jo said he’s been out of town, right? I guess he just got back a few days ago.” She shrugs, handing you your purse back. You pass her your binder to drop into her tote bag, at which she winces. “Jesus H, this thing is in bad shape.” She breathes, earning a playful glare from you.
“Don’t make me feel worse about it.” You groan. You glance at your watch, and as if on cue, the church door slams open, a breathless Joelle rushing through the door.
“Hey, ladies! Sorry, we got out late. Taron is parking the car, he’ll be here in just a second.” She finally reaches you, her breath heavy.
“Hey, Jo. You guys didn’t have to rush for us.” You say, listening to her laugh in your ear as the two of you embrace.
“Oh, it’s fine. He hates to be late, so no matter what I said, we would have been speeding here.” She giggles, turning to hug Izzy. “We can start without Taron. He’ll find us.” She suggests, and Izzy looks at you with a raised brow.
“That should be fine. Let me go get the pastor, he’ll be giving us our tour.”
You turn on your heel, letting out a breath before looking for the office. Joelle Christiansen was A-list; she was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most high-profile client you had ever had. You had been recommended through a friend of a friend, and every single time you interacted with her, you were desperate to keep her happy. On top of that, you were quite fond of her.
You knock on the door, smiling as John swings it open. “(Y/N)?” He asks, a friendly grin painted on his face.
“Hi,” you reach out a hand to shake his. “It’s so great to meet you. Sorry about the mess with scheduling.” You apologize. He waves a hand to dismiss your worries, closing the door of the office behind himself.
“Don’t worry about it, we don’t get too busy here.”
The two of you make your way back to Joelle and Izzy, the voices echoing off the high ceiling. The pastor reaches his hand out to shake theirs, greetings flying around as everyone introduces themselves. You finally allow yourself to take a breath, with the attention off you. With the pastor in charge, you finally feel at ease.
“Well, let’s start the tour,” he claps. Just as he turns around, the door flies open and all four of you turn to look at the intruder.
For a split second, you’re nearly ecstatic, a smile playing on your lips before you realize what exactly is happening. Izzy’s eyes fly to you, and you lean over.
Taron half-jogs toward all of you, your Taron. You turn to Izzy in a panic; she looks back to you, her face twisted into a silent question.  
“That’s him.” You say, the beginnings of a panic attack taking root in your gut.
“Obviously that’s him.” She rolls her eyes, discreetly elbowing your side.
“No, the guy from last night. That’s him!”
“Holy shit.” She whispers, catching everyone’s attention.
“I’m sorry?” The pastor asks, his brow furrowed. Taron begins to chuckle but is cut short as soon as he sees you. He blanches as you glare at him and the sound of Izzy apologizing is quiet to you as you think of the infinite amount of things you wanted to say to him. Your anxiety is replaced with anger and you can’t help but keep your cold stare on him.
“Tar, you okay?” Joelle asks. He averts eye contact to look at his fiancee--the word nearly makes you sick--and flashes the most convincing smile you may have ever seen.
“Yeah, love, I’m fine.” He assures, reaching out to shake Izzy’s hand first. “Taron, nice to meet you.”
He’s too busy introducing himself to the pastor to hear Izzy’s, “Is it?”
He reaches for you last. With a small hesitation, he reaches for your hand. “Taron, hi. You must be (Y/N).” There’s a silent plea in his eyes and you resist the urge to scoff.
“Hi,” you greet curtly, shaking his hand for only a second before dropping it as though it’s burnt you. You spin on your heel to face pastor John. “Right, should we start?”
He begins the tour, the four of you following him nearly silently. Taron and Joelle listen intently as you and Izzy follow from a distance. She sends you a bewildered look, and you mirror her expression; how the hell did you end up here? It’s safe to say you’re in the unventured territory. Izzy was equally overwhelmed, looking between you and Taron.
John rattled on as Joelle and Taron followed, paying close attention to the information he was feeding you all. Taron sends a look back at you, a look that obviously meant something. We need to talk, he mouths before quickly turning back around. You and Izzy shared another look and turned your attention back to the tour.
“Taron, this place is beautiful.” Jo gasps. The tour is just barely over, the four of you standing in the middle of the alter.
“Yeah, it’s quite nice.” He mumbles, the deep Welsh accent echoing off the marble walls. “I just think it may be a bit cold.” He offers. She purses her lips.
“Well, should we move on to the next?” You ask, pulling your binder from Izzy’s bag.
“I think I’m going to run to the restroom, okay?” Joelle asks. You smile curtly, watching her retreat. The three of you watch her wander away, the silence stifling until she turns a corner.
“Can I speak to you?” He asks, sending a pleading look to Izzy. “Alone?”
“Hell no. I’m not leaving.” She snaps. He looks at her with a near pitiful face.
“She knows?”
“Izzy, I’m fine. Give us a minute.” You sigh, pushing her lightly away. She glares at the two of you but meanders away to sit on a pew.
“I am so sorry.” He whispers.
“What is happening? Are you stupid?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“You’re engaged? How can you act that way with someone when you’re engaged?” You exclaim. He runs a hand over his face, pinching his bottom lip.
“I hadn’t meant to, not at first. But you’re so lovely, and I just kind of got carried away.” He sighs. A hand reaches out for you, but you pull away.
“You are a literal psychopath.” You take a deep breath before squaring your shoulders. “But this wedding is big for me, okay? So we’re going to pretend we just met, and you’re going to be a helpful groom because if you aren’t, I’ll kick your ass.” You threaten.
He looks at you in shock and opens his mouth to reply. Before he can get anything out, Joelle rushes out from the bathroom. “Okay! Are you ready?”
You turn around with a blinding smile. “Yep! Let’s head on out.”
“It’s been five dates,” Izzy reminds you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“And?”
“And it’s coming! He’s going to ask you soon.”
The two of you walk into the bakery, waving at Joelle and Taron. “No, he isn't. It isn’t that romantic, Iz. And they’re barely dates, we’ve just been catching up.” You sigh, looking over at her. She raises a brow, giving you an incredulous look.
“Then why is he coming today?” She asks, rolling her coffee cup between her hands. “That’s boyfriend shit, (Y/N).”
“He’s just dropping off my laptop.” You defend. The two of you stop a few feet from the table, you in hopes to end the conversation before you sat, and Izzy because she wasn’t ready to give this up.
“Which you left at his house! Plus, you’ve kissed. He’s got a leg up on that one guy.” She says pointedly.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m being honest. Two weeks and five dates, you’re kissing him, and leaving things at his house? This is getting serious.”
“Can we finish this later?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. She nods and walks toward the table, sitting down. You follow, greeting the couple and pulling a pen from your purse.
“Good morning, guys.” You greet, opening your binder to a blank page. “Let’s just jump right into it, yeah?”
“Someone’s feeling productive today,” Joelle notes, her laugh ringing through the air. You laugh, too. Not because you think it’s funny and definitely not because it’s true, but because you want to get as much of this done before Colin got here and you don’t want to have this conversation.
“Well…” you trail off, finally looking up to the pair. Joelle has a friendly smile painted on her face and Taron has a curious brow raised, a silent question. Your gaze lingers for only a second before you look down at your page. “What flavors were each of you thinking?” You ask, looking back up to them.
Taron’s disinterested face watches you as Joelle rattles off a list. You write them as fast as you can, nodding as she continues to speak.
“We’re going to have a lot of guests,” she begins. In your head, you cannot help but say ‘562 guests,’ a thought you had been carrying with you for weeks. 562. “So obviously we’re going to need a lot of it, but I want everyone to have something they want.” You zone out, nodding as she speaks despite the fact that you aren’t listening. Her high-pitched voice echoes through the nearly empty bakery.
“Well, we can sample all of these and you can pick three or four, we can do several cakes or a large tier cake; we can talk about that later, though, so don’t worry about it.” You stand to take the list to the man behind the counter when the bell above the door rings. You turn out of instinct and freeze. “Hey, Iz, you wanna take this up?” You ask rhetorically, offering the list and motioning to Colin.
She turns and makes eye contact before breaking into a mischievous grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Hey, Colin!” You greet pitchily, walking toward him. He’s nearly an hour early; he had told you he would be here at ten, but it’s barely a pinch past 9:10. “What are you doing here?” You laugh a little, trying to hide your anxiety.
“Why are you freaking out?” He sing-songs, pulling you into his side. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and you look up at him.
“I just wasn’t expecting you this early, that’s all,” you whisper in response to his teasing, thanking him as he hands you your laptop.
“The department meeting didn’t last nearly as long as I was expecting. Didn’t think it would be a big deal if I came early. Am I interrupting?”
“No! No, of course not. You’re fine.” You assure.
“(Y/N), who’s this?” Joelle asks playfully. You turn to look at her, a bashful smile on your face.
Colin reaches his hand out for a handshake, gripping Joelle’s hand tightly. “I’m Colin, (Y/N)’s boyfriend.”
Your brow furrows in confusion for only a split second. He reaches for Taron, who watches Colin carefully as they shake hands. “Um, Colin, this is Joelle and Taron.” You introduce, ignoring Izzy’s smug look as she returns to the group.
“It’s just lovely to meet you, Colin.” Joelle winks at you. You roll your eyes playfully. “Would you like to stay with us?” She invites.
You begin to wonder what you’ve done to deserve something like this. Things with Taron were still awkward, to say the least, and even just the few moments Colin has been here had been nearly unbearable. There’s an unmistakable tension in the air, but just a single glance at Jo shows you she’s none the wiser.
“I’d hate to intrude.” He says, looking to you.
After a beat, you realize it’s up to you. You jump. “Oh! Um, you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” You say, watching him break into a grin.
“Stellar.” He exclaims, pulling up a chair. Taron raises a brow at you, but you become distracted by the comprehensive amount of cake being delivered to your table.
Cake tasting is not nearly as uncomfortable as you’d feared; Colin’s inexplicably charismatic personality had made it easy on you. In fact, you’d barely gotten in any words in between the rambunctious conversation. Taron and Collin had even built some rapport, much to your own surprise. It had been a rather lovely morning, in all honesty.
Cake is long finished and conversation seems to be nowhere near over when Colin’s pager begins to beep loudly. Around the table, faces scrunch in confusion as he pulls it out, sending you an apologetic look. “I just got called in. I’ll call you tonight, yeah?” You nod, a small grin on your face as he leans over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “It was so great to meet you all, but I’ve got to go.”
Joelle’s hands clasped over her chest. “Colin, it was wonderful to have you. I hope to see you soon.”
“Likewise,” Taron nods from across the table. He stands parallel to Colin to shake his hand again, a kind smile gracing his face as they say their goodbyes.
You watch him exit the shop, a nearly-wistful sigh leaving you. “(Y/N)!” Jo squeals, catching your attention. “He is so cute, why didn’t you say anything?” She asks. You chuckle softly, shaking your head.
“It’s kind of new.” You excuse, beginning to pack your things.
“I have to go to a meeting but I’ll call you later, and not just about the cake,” she winks. Izzy chortles from beside you, and even you can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips.
She leaves, sharing a chaste kiss with a quiet Taron before rushing out of the shop.
You and Izzy are talking quietly about which flavors you liked best, starring the ones you thought Joelle enjoyed when Taron speaks up. “I think it’s rich that you chastised me for being in a relationship when you’ve got him.” He grumbles.
You give him a tired look. He looks back, his disinterest gone as he watches expectantly for an answer.
Instead, you say, “It seemed like you liked him.”
“Well, I did.” He’s caught off guard, of which your a little proud. “But that’s not really the point, is it?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve known Colin my whole life, and our first date was days after I met you.” Taron looks a bit embarrassed, so you sigh and backtrack. “We don’t have to fight like this, all the time.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of exhausting.” Izzy cuts in, ignoring your glare.
“Can we just call this a truce?” You say softly, crossing around the table to stand next to him. You hold out your arms to invite him in a hug, giving him a playful smile. He diverts eye contact but grins, holding his arms out as well. You let out an exclamation and hug him tightly, ignoring Izzy’s soft ‘yay!’
“Friends?” He proposes, giving you a squeeze before pulling back.
“Friends.”
“I miss you guys!” Joelle’s voice lilted through the phone.
“We miss you too, love,” Taron says sweetly.
She’d been gone for nearly a week and it happened that she had the smallest bit of separation anxiety. Knowing the three of you were planning without her made her neurotic and phone calls were coming in nearly every hour.
“You’ll be back tonight, in no time,” Izzy assures. Joelle hummed through the phone, her discontent obvious. “What have you guys done since we talked last?” She changes the subject. The three of you can’t help but snicker under your breath.
“Honestly, we haven’t even gotten to the tailor yet.” You say, your eyes attached to the road.
“Are you serious?” She screeches. You raise your brows in surprise, the corner of your lips turning up.
“Well, Jo, you called us last not even an hour ago.” Taron reminds her. There’s a beat of silence and she giggles.
“I suppose you’re right.” She admits. ”I’ll stop calling, I guess. (Y/N), call me tonight and we can go over it all.”
You chuckle, parking your car. “Alright, I’ll talk to you then.”
The four of you say your goodbyes before she hangs up. Taron twists to look at you, his face turned down.
“Don’t look so excited,” Izzy suggests. You giggle, nudging him over the console of your car.
“It won’t be that bad. We’ll be done before you know it.” You assure him, though you weren’t so sure of that yourself. Tux fittings never were so bad for you or Izzy. In fact, you found they were the most relaxing appointments of the entire wedding for you. It was a break from the usually overbearing bride, a time for you to sit and relax. The grooms, however, never much liked them.
The three of you enter the building, immediately greeted by an older man behind the counter.
“We have a fitting for Egerton.” You inform him, turning over your shoulder to look at the ornate tuxedos on mannequins around the shop. As you check in, you turn to look at Taron, his less-than-enthused disposition clouding around him. “Taron, be a big boy.” You cajole, following the man as he leads you to a separate room.
“I don’t want to,” He glowers, causing you to glare at him.
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with it.” You grumble.
You and Izzy fall to sit on the couch across from the mirror, watching the man fidget as he stood before you. He taps his foot impatiently as the three of you waited for his tux, inhaling sharply.
“Dude, why are you flipping out?” Izzy asks, catching his attention. He doesn’t answer.
He lets out a deep breath. You can’t help but stare at him, watching the wrinkles between his brows as he paces the room. He peers over at you and you snap your attention across the room. You’re grateful for the soft knock on the door before it opens to reveal a kind-looking man with Taron’s tux in hand. You let out a soft sigh of relief as he introduces himself.
“Taron? I’m Marcus, nice to meet you, mate.”
“Hi Marcus, pleasure.” Taron smiles. He gestures to the two of you on the couch. “Um, this is (Y/N) and Izzy.”
“Which of you is the bride?” He asks, and you chortle without thought, putting a hand to your lips when you realize how odd you must seem.
“Sorry, neither of us. We’re the wedding planners.” You introduce, ignoring Taron’s look of surprise.
“Ah, lovely. Well, Taron, if you’ll just follow me…”
The door closes behind them as they retreat to a changing room. “Holy shit, you’re a mess.” Izzy giggles.
Your head snaps to her, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Could you be more obvious? You’re all flirty and the glances are getting weird.”
“Izzy, shut up. We’re friends, it isn’t that big of a deal.” You try to convince both Izzy and yourself.
“I mean, the flirting is pretty toned down when we’re with Jo or Colin, but now there are no barriers and it’s so incredibly obvious that the two of you have feelings for one another.”
You pause, trying to process her words before you open your mouth with your rebuttal. No sooner have your lips parted is the door opening to reveal Taron and Marcus. He holds his arms out, looking to the two of you for a reaction.
“Cute!” Izzy exclaims. However, you inhale sharply, fixated on him. Maybe there was more truth to Izzy’s words than you cared to admit. As he stood before you, you felt your heart beat faster.
He crosses the room to stand before the mirror. “(Y/N)? What do you think?” He stares at himself anxiously in the mirror. You stand, watching as he turns to face you. His jacket remains unbuttoned, revealing his white dress shirt.
Your fingers are working seemingly without your permission, slipping the buttons into their designated places before he turned back to face himself in the mirror. You rest a gentle hand on his back, so light he can barely tell it’s there. “I think you look very dashing.” You admit. He breaks into a grin, looking into your eyes through the mirror. “The legs are a hair too long, but that’s a simple fix.”
“Okay, fantastic. I’ll go change then?” He says softly, eyes still locked with yours. His smile is long gone, so the two of you stand silently for a beat before you clear your throat.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
They retreat yet again, leaving you alone with your best friend. You turn to her with a grimace.
“Oh, you are so fucked.”
“Bye, Izzy. We’ll see you in a few days.” Taron says, waving at her from the rolled down window of your car.
“Bye, guys.” She calls from over her shoulder, walking into her building.
You let out a soft sigh, shifting the car into drive and relaxing into your seat as you began the route to Taron’s.
“So, how’s Colin?” He asks, fiddling with his own fingers. You glance over at him before clearing your throat.
“H-he’s good, I guess.” You shrug. You’re unusually nervous around him after the fitting, and he feels it too. He’s much less playful; the atmosphere in the car is nearly stifling.
“You guess?” He asks, twisting to face you in his seat.
“I haven’t really talked to him today.” You admit.
“What’s the deal with him, anyway? Like, this handsome, charming, doctor man? I’d like to know how this came to be.” He says honestly. He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to crack. You fear you might do just that.
You blow a raspberry jokingly, causing him to chuckle. You glance at him again, watching you and waiting for the story, so you shrug. “I’ve known Colin for my whole life. My dad is best friends with his parents. I guess Colin was my what if.”
“Your ‘what if?’” He asks curiously, cocking his head to the side.
“Yeah. You know, that one person you know you’d never be with, but you can’t get over them, so you just think about them all the time and think of all these scenarios even though you know there’s no chance.” You ramble. You look to him for confirmation. He doesn’t say anything but the look on his face is enough to tell you he understands.
“If you never thought you’d be with him and now you are, why are you going days without speaking to him?”
The question catches you off guard and you narrow your eyes. “I guess it’s just not what I thought it would be.” It’s the first time you’ve said it, and you can’t believe it was to Taron, of all people. “I mean, I’ve created this version of him in my head but it isn’t like him at all. That’s not to say he isn’t wonderful, but it’s not what I thought it would be.”
There’s a pregnant pause as you park in front of his building. You look over at him, gazing as he stares out the windshield.
“I don’t know if I can marry Joelle.” He says softly. You gape at him, reaching across to grasp his arm.
“Taron, what are you talking about?”
“I--” He takes a deep breath, groaning at the exhale. “I wouldn’t feel good about marrying a woman when I have feelings for someone else.”
He looks at you pointedly, staring into your wide eyes. You let go of his arm, turning back to face forward in your seat. It’s what your subconscious has dreamt of hearing. You’ve wanted the confirmation, wanted to know he’s jealous of Colin, wanted to know he wanted you. But you can’t accept it; you know it’s wrong, no matter how much it pains you to talk him out of it.
“You have to marry Joelle.”
“Why? Because we already reserved the venue?” He scoffs. “I love Joelle, but I have never felt like this about her.”
You turn toward him once again. “I hope you know I adore you. But I respect Joelle far too much for anything like this to happen. If I have to keep my distance, I will, but you have to go through with this. You and Joelle were meant to be.” The words sound like a lie coming out of your mouth, but he nods anyway.
“If that’s how you feel.” He says quietly. He opens his door and gets out, facing you one last time. “Have a good evening.”
Before you can answer, the door is closed, he’s walking up his steps, and your phone is ringing. You take a deep breath before answering with a fake smile. “Hey, Col. I can’t talk long, I’ve got to call Joelle in a little bit.”
Things were back cold with Taron and you, avoiding contact with one another at any given opportunity. Izzy had to become a human buffer between the two of you, much to her chagrin. With Joelle back in town tonight, you were praying for things to return to normal, or as close as you could get to it. Your phone call with Colin can’t be over soon enough. You’re feeling guilty and more conflicted than ever about your relationship; it’s the same reason you’re dreading the call with Joelle, but you’d rather get it over with than deal with her questions tomorrow.
You’re settling onto the couch with a glass of wine and a blanket when you call, ready to get it over with so you can laze and watch a movie. She picks up immediately, a sniffle audible over the line.
“Jo?”
“Hey, (Y/N),” she says, her voice thin.
“Jo, are you okay?” You ask, sitting up straighter. You hear another sniffle and your face wrinkles in concern. Your mind can’t help but turn to Taron. Had he broken up with her? Was she even home yet?
“Um, I don’t know.” She whispers honestly.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to come over?”
She laughs despite herself, shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. But I’m glad you called.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m on my way home, and I realized I don’t want to go.” She says softly. “I mean, I had to pull over. I literally cannot go back, (Y/N).” She breathes. For the first time, you notice her car running softly in the background.
It’s unlike you to pry, but she said she needed to talk to someone, so you ask, “Why?” What else could you ask?
She takes a deep breath. There’s hesitation, but she starts. “I was dreading being away from Taron this week. Seriously, I was sick over it. And then I was away, and...I don’t know how to explain it. It was so relaxing. Can you believe that? My business trip was relaxing. I love Taron, but being alone was--” She collects herself. “I kept calling because I thought if I spoke to him, I would miss him again, but I didn’t.”
Your heart soars for a moment before you frown. “Jo…”
“I know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t know if I can do this.” She groans.
You lean back into the couch in silence. What are you meant to say? Break up with him? You couldn’t. Not if you tried. “Jo, are you sure you aren’t just getting cold feet?” You suggest,
“I don’t think so.”
“You two are made for each other.” This is as close as you get to begging, your voice a little softer as you try to reason with her.
She doesn’t say anything for a few moments and momentarily, you wonder if she’s hung up on you. You’re about to check when she says, “Have you noticed the way he watches you?”
You feel like you’ve been kicked in the chest. You had sworn whatever had happened between you and Taron before tonight had been buried and that the two of you were acting normally. “What?”
“I don’t know,” she sighs. “It’s like he’s watching over you. Like if anything came within ten feet of you, he’d lose it. He’s never looked at me that way.” She says softly.
“Maybe he’s just really passionate about the binder.” You attempt to lighten to air, successful for a moment.
She chuckles. “Maybe I am just getting cold feet.”
You breathe a silent sigh of relief. “Are you going to go home?”
“Yes.” She affirms. “Thank you.”
Instead of accepting her thanks, you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
She hangs up and you lean back into your couch. A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you dial Izzy’s number.
“Hey, (Y/N/N).”
“Hey, Iz. You busy?”
“I’m already out of the door.”
“Thank god.” You breathe.
“What’s up?” You hear her keys jingle and her front door shut behind her.
“You’ll never believe this.”
Just over a week. It was just over a week until the most important wedding of your life, and you couldn’t have been more relieved.
Today was a rare day off, full of sleeping in and watching television with Colin. Izzy was meeting with Joelle and Taron this morning for some final touches, locking in details before giving them the rest of the week off. Izzy agreed that you needed the week off as well, nearly forcing you to take the following days off.
Lying in bed, you couldn’t have been more grateful to her. The TV is already on and you can hear Colin fumbling around in the kitchen, murmuring to himself. You smile softly, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and stretching with a heavy groan. Colin had been quick to find your spare key and wasn’t shy about using it; when you woke up to breakfast, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
You pad to the kitchen, grinning as you hear him singing under his breath. Briefly, you wonder if Taron sings when he cooks breakfast, or if he ever cooks, but just the thought of him makes you anxious, so you shake him out of your head and enter the kitchen, catching Colin’s attention.
“Ah, you are just in time.” He praises, pulling two plates down from your cupboards.
“Am I?”
“Very much so, dear.” He dishes your plate, handing it to you with a grin. You set it on the table, grabbing glasses and filling them.
“I wanted to talk to you.” He confesses, sitting across from you at the table.
“Oh really?” You ask, beginning to eat. You watch him with a soft smile until you notice how serious he’s become. Your brow furrows and you lean toward him, setting your fork down. “Colin?”
“You know how much I care for you, right?” He asks, reaching to grip your hand softly.
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“I think we should end this,” He admits, catching you off guard.
“I’m--Colin, I don’t--” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. “Did I do something?”
He smiles sadly, shaking his head. “No, of course not.”
“Then where is this coming from?” You ask, slightly disgruntled.
“You don’t love me, (Y/N),” He says softly. He exits his chair to squat in front of you, your fingers still entwined.
“No, I do! Colin, I do.” You try to convince him, getting down to his eye level.
How could this possibly happen? You swore things with Colin were going perfectly. You thought you loved one another. You thought it was getting serious.
“Maybe you do, but you couldn’t love me like you do Taron.”
You’re taken aback by his words. First Joelle, and now Colin? Admittedly, you and Taron had gotten close and you spoke about, maybe in excess, but you were sure it seemed friendly. But as you stare into Colin’s melancholy eyes, you almost feel sick.
“I don’t love him.” You lie, shaking your head heavily.
“You do. And that’s fine; I think we both knew this was too good to be true.” He says softly, dropping your hand to cup your face, his thumb rubbing lightly under your eye.
Behind your eyes, stings and your throat feels dry as a tear falls from your eye to his thumb. “I’m sorry, Colin.”
“It’s okay, (Y/N/N).”
Your eyes close, reveling in his touch. After all, you knew this would be the last time.
“We’re not getting married.”
The words make Izzy choke on her tea, groaning when she feels it shoot up her nose.
“I’m sorry, what?” She inquires, staring across the table at the pair. She feels like a child with separated parents, but they could still pass as a couple when they look at one another with knowing smiles.
“Izzy, you and (Y/N) have been so amazing throughout this process and I genuinely consider you my good friends,” Joelle assures.
“But,” Taron’s voice cuts in and captures Izzy’s attention, “we want different things. This is very mutual, and we still love one another, but getting married is not the right move for us.”
“You guys are still getting paid, so don’t worry--”
“I’m not worried about the payment! I’m worried about you.” Izzy exclaims, looking into Joelle’s concerned eyes. “I mean, you guys seemed so happy. Where did this come from?”
Again, a knowing look is shared between the two across from her. Joelle’s smooth, small hand reaches across the table to grip Izzy’s with a soft smile akin to a mother’s.
“It’s been a long time since I was alone. I forgot how good I am at it, how much I like it. As for Taron…” she trails off, her left eye dropping into a wink. Izzy’s eyes narrow as she looks at the man, who gives her a bashful smile, his hands releasing one another and thrown up as if to say, ‘what can I tell you?’ “I think they’re much more suited for another than he and I ever have been.” She admits.
Izzy’s head is spinning, unable to wrap her mind around the information being thrown at her.
“She told you?” Izzy asks softly. “(Y/N) told you?”
“Told me what?” He inquires, the wrinkles between his brows appearing.
“That she’s in love with you.”
“She’s in love with me?” He gapes. Izzy’s mouth forms an O, a hand coming up to cover it.
“I told you!” Joelle squeals excitedly, punching Taron’s arm.
“She didn’t tell you?” Izzy groans, her hands on her cheeks.
Taron stands, a confident smile tugging at his lips. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.” He shrugs on his jacket. He looks at Joelle with a nostalgic smile before squeezing Izzy’s shoulder and rushing through the doors.
There’s only a beat of silence before Izzy turns to Joelle and offers, “This must be terribly uncomfortable for you.”
Joelle only shakes her head, a wistful smile on her lips as she stares at the doors.
The knock on your front door is the first thing to get you off your couch. You can barely move. First Colin, then Joelle? This was meant to be a relaxing day off. Instead, you feel as though your world may be collapsing. Despite Jo’s assurances that she couldn’t have been less upset, that she still loves you, you feel sick.
You swing the door open to reveal your best friend. “Did you hear?” She asks in lieu of a greeting.
“I just got off the phone with her.”
“Holy shit!” She exclaims, pushing past you to get into your apartment. “Hey, where’s Colin?”
You wince softly, shrugging. “We broke up.”
Izzy gapes at you. “Why?”
“Because he thinks I’m in love with Taron.” You groan, dropping onto the couch yet again.
“You are.” She reminds you, earning a glare from you. She sits beside you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “You know what will make you feel better?”
“Dying?” You ask facetiously, the eye roll from Izzy glaringly obvious.
“The park is playing About Time tonight.”
Despite yourself, you can’t help but gasp. “Really?”
“You wanna go?”
The park is less than crowded tonight, which means the two of you get a great spot, the thick blanket laid over the grass less than five rows from the front. It’s a much-needed distraction from the hot mess that is your life at the moment.
“Are you going to call Taron?” Izzy asks, the two of you ignoring the previews.
You sigh softly, picking at the grass near your hand. “I don’t know. I’m afraid it’s too soon.” You admit, turning to face her.
“Are you kidding? This dude canceled his wedding for you, I don’t think it’s soon enough.”
You groan, your head falling back. “Don’t remind me. I mean, I guess--”
“(Y/N!)”
The Welsh accent calls through the park, echoing over the heads of the patrons. Izzy’s head snaps toward you, a grin spreading over her face. “I don’t think he thinks it’s too soon.”
You spin around, but can’t see him. The sky is dark, making it difficult to see anything behind you. You’re straining your eyes to find him as he continues to call your name until Izzy slaps your calf. You look down at her, twisting when she gestures toward the screen.
There he stands, smack in the middle of the screen. Taron’s voice is still reverberating around the field and you can’t help but laugh when those around you begin to call your name. “Go over there, dude!” Izzy cries, reaching to push you toward him.
You take a hesitant step, enough movement to catch his attention. He doesn’t say anything, just watching as you speed to get to him. Within seconds, you’re standing before him. The two of you stand in front of one another for only a moment before your arms are thrown around his neck, his wrapped tightly around your waist. “Did Joelle tell you?” He asks, and you can only nod against him. “I don’t even care about Colin, (Y/N). Marry him, for all I care. But I want you to know I love you.”
“Colin and I are done. Because I’m in love with you.”
A face-splitting grin overtakes him and he pulls you closer, leaning down until your lips are connected. You lean into his body, the passion behind the kiss causing you to wobble. His lips work against yours, a hand raising from your waist to your face, caressing your skin gently. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief. You grin, pressing another kiss to his lips.
“Maybe you aren’t so cynical after all.”
190 notes · View notes
let-it-raines · 6 years ago
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Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Seven)
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Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.
Rating: Mature
A/N: You guys are totally going to be annoyed with me for how I left it on a cliffhanger when I totally didn’t have to except to show some character growth and how things change...which I guess is exactly the reason I ended it that way :D
Found on AO3: Beginning | Current
Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20
Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 
Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615@a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera
“Can I come in, son?”
“Yeah, of course,” Killian answers automatically, the shock of his father just showing up at his door stunning him for only a moment. It’s not like he never visits. He usually just calls or texts first. “I didn’t know you were coming over, dad. Why didn’t you call?”
“Oh, I was visiting the kids and thought I’d drop by since I knew that the two of you had returned home.” His dad steps inside, squeezing his shoulder before leaning down to pet Indy. “Hello, darling,” he then greets Emma, kissing her cheek before wrapping her up in a hug. “How are you feeling today?”
“Good, good,” Emma insists, her eyes still blown wide as if she’s actually been shocked. He knows she’s still a bit rattled from the flight and her nausea. The same thing had happened when they went out sailing the morning of their anniversary, before the disaster of the rest of that day, and even though he had been wary of it, Emma insisted she was fine. She never said she wasn’t, but the green of her face told him otherwise. “How are you?”
“Kicking pretty high for my age.”
“You are not old,” she laughs, tugging on Indy’s leash. “Do you mind if I take Indy for a quick walk? Let her run around a bit. She’s been told she’s going outside, and I’m afraid she’ll freak out if she doesn’t get to go.”
“Of course, dear. I’ll chat with Killian, and the second you two come back inside, I want to hear all about how you’ve been since you left us to go holiday in the warm sunshine. I swear it’s rained for the past week.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Emma takes a step over toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek, whispering that she’ll be right back before taking a step outside with Indy and leaving him with his dad.
“Do you want something to drink? Eat?”
“I’m fine.” His father begins walking to the living room, settling down into the recliner he prefers when visiting all while Killian sits down on the couch next to him, only a side table between them. “So how was your holiday?”
He almost chokes on his own saliva thinking of all of the things he absolutely cannot tell his father about their holiday as well as wondering if he should bring up the privacy issue just yet. He doesn’t know, is never truly sure about these types of things. He could have a nice, normal conversation with his father or it could turn into another tense, stressful one. He’s had enough of those for a lifetime, but he also knows that he doesn’t have all of the time in the world to fix this. He’s got fewer than four months, really.
“It was wonderful,” he finally answers, his lips ticking up on one side. It really was wonderful to get away with Emma and only have each other for awhile despite the disaster that was their anniversary. It got better, though. It wasn’t completely bad. They had the sailing trip and the takeout meal that was better than anything else they’d eaten if only for how comfortable they both felt. He felt his son move for the first time, which was bloody brilliant and most definitely his new favorite thing. “It’s a gorgeous island. Emma mentioned something about asking you to make our beaches like that.”
Brennan barks out a laugh, the wrinkles on his face all gathering together while his gray hair shakes the slightest bit. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess his dad is getting his hair cut in the next two or three days, keeping up with his lifelong schedule of haircuts. “If only I could. That would be bloody wonderful. But I like the way she thinks.”
“She’s definitely a brilliant dreamer.” He trails off toward the end of his sentence, looking down at his hand and twisting his ring around his finger, his constant physical reminder of his lifelong commitment to Emma, as if he really needs one. “Can I talk to you about something, dad?”
“Of course.”
“I know, well, I know that things were different when I was a kid, that technology wasn’t as advanced, that I was a bit of a surprise child and that you were on the older side when I was born.”
“Well, why don’t you just call me elderly then, Killian? And you have absolutely no proof that you were a surprise child.”
His dad laughs when he speaks, but Killian isn’t finding a lot of humor in it, knowing that he’s likely going to upset Brennan with his words.
“What I mean is, I know you weren’t really, truly involved in my life. And I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel…upset, but I need a very particular kind of advice that really only you and mum or Liam and Abigail can give. And I’m honestly not even sure you can give it.”
“What’s wrong, Killian?”
He takes a moment to collect himself, hundreds of words on the tip of his tongue but none of them feeling quite right. But he has to say something, so he might as well speak the truth.
“How the hell am I supposed to be a father in a world where I can’t protect the privacy of my wife and my child? There were, um, photographers who rented out a house and used scopes to take pictures of us on the beach. And Emma and I got into a pretty nasty argument about it. She’s worried…I’m worried about Andrew’s privacy. We want him to live a life as normal as possible. We don’t want photographers following him to school or to the park, and I just – I don’t know how to fix it.”
He’s been clenching his fist all while he talks, the tenseness in his hand almost painful while hot tears form in his eyes, every fault and every insecurity he’s had long before the fight with Emma coming back and assaulting his senses, making everything a dark, cloudy blur.
Brennan looks calm, secure, the blue of his eyes not changing while his eyelids rapidly blink, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face increasing. Has he said too much? Shown too much emotion? Asked for the impossible?
“The fact that you have very obviously beaten yourself up about this proves that you are a better dad than I ever have been.”
“That’s not what I meant, dad. I didn’t – ”
“I know, Killian. I’m not taking offense to anything. I was a poor excuse for a father for the majority of your life. I was focused on Liam, on my job, on the protocol and the way that my father raised Albert and me. All I knew was that fathers were not supposed to be close to their children, and as much as that hurt me as a child, I stupidly believed it. The fact that you have forgiven me is something I still can’t believe.”
He leans over and places his hand on Brennan’s knee, patting him before leaning back and wiping at his eyes. “I did it for me, but with the way you’ve worked to change, you deserve it.”
“Thank you, my boy.” His father smiles, settling back into his chair and crossing his hands together in his lap. “But this is not about me. This is about you and your family. So you don’t want Andrew in the public eye? At all? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I mean, we haven’t discussed it in serious length, but yes. I’m sure that Emma will be okay with releasing the occasional photo or having him join us when we go overseas so we don’t have to be apart from him, but I think we’re going to have to take a step back in traditions. And when he gets older, I think we may need to move somewhere much more private.”
The front door opens then, the alarm beep sounding at the same time that he hears the click of nails and the squeak of sneakers as well as Emma’s voice. He straightens up, fixing his hunched back and sitting against the couch in as much of a relaxed position as he can.
“Go find, Killian, girl, yeah,” Emma coos, her voice getting louder the closer she gets to the living room. And then she’s in view, Indy running in first and jumping up on the couch before getting down once she spots Brennan, less familiar people always more exciting than him. Emma walks toward him, sitting down in the seat Indy just vacated and reaching around him to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the strands. “What’s wrong? Your shoulders are tensed.”
How the hell does she always know?
“Killian and I,” his father answers for him, seemingly understanding that Killian wasn’t sure what to say, “were simply talking about how you two seem to be suffering from some privacy issues and are worried about your child’s future, that you want Andrew to lead a more private life than normal.”
“Oh,” Emma gulps, her hand stilling in his hair before beginning again, “well, yeah. I know that we all grew up differently and that my childhood isn’t really an option, but that’s what I want, what we want. We want him to be able to be a kid, you know? I don’t want him to be used to cameras everywhere he goes. I don’t know how we’d fix that, but that’s definitely my top priority right now. And forever probably.”
His hand finds Emma’s knee, thumb running back and forth over the material of her leggings while she speaks. He’s here with her, for her, consistently, and he hopes that she knows this.
“Why don’t you two give me some time to think things over? I’ll meet with security. We’ll work out some plans and ideas. You two should probably talk to Liam and Abigail. It’s not, well, it won’t be exactly the same. You have more freedom than them, and they’re not quite as private as the two of you. But they do have experience in all of this.” “Thank you, Brennan,” Emma sighs, leaning back into the couch and scratching at his neck, his eyes fluttering closed for a quick moment.
“Of course, but at the end of the day, above everything else, we’re a family. How you two feel is far more important than any sort of duty and tradition we have, even if I do ask that we stick to the important ones.”
“Actually, I have something else that I want to talk about.”
His head snaps to her, eyes searching for what she has to say, but she’s not looking at him, her gaze trained on the wag of Indy’s tail while her fingers tap over his on her leg, the hand in his hair having stilled.
“What do you want to talk about, love?”
She looks at him then, the smallest of smiles on her face that comforts him the slightest bit, before directing her gaze to Brennan. “I don’t want to walk out of the hospital all made up hours after giving birth. Kudos to Abigail. She is a badass woman for that, but that’s not what I want. Andy doesn’t need to be exposed to so many people as a newborn. I don’t need to be all dressed up when I’ve just given birth. I don’t care about tradition when it comes to this. This is what I’m doing, and I really feel like it’s the first step in taking a stand about him not being some kind of public property.”
He didn’t know she felt that way about any of that, nearly every word she said news to him, but he gets it, supports it. If that’s what Emma wants for this, that’s what they’ll do. He’s never quite understood that tradition anyways, and he likes the idea of a more private celebration with just them and their families while Emma heals and they adjust to the terrifying process of being parents for the first time.
“I’m not sure we can do that, dear.”
“What?” His head snaps over to his dad, trying to process the words. “You literally just said that how we feel is more important than any duty we have.”
“But that we need to stick to the important traditions, yes. New family members are an important tradition.”
“Brennan,” Emma grits, her voice strained as she tries to keep it friendly, “I respect our family and all of the traditions we have, but I am not some kind of human machine who’s only here to produce babies. Yes, of course this is a big deal, but it’s a big deal for us as a personal family, not as some part of the institution. You can still put the sign up, make any and all announcements you want. Hell, I’ll release a picture if we have to, but all I’m asking is that we’re allowed to leave and travel home in peace.”
“I agree, dad. I mean, really. Of all of the things we break and bend, of all of the things we change, surely you can let this one thing go? It’s not hundreds of years ago where people are faking pregnancies and paternities to keep the line intact, which was ridiculous then. I think letting family be family is the most important thing, don’t you?”
“Aye, it’s just…you’ll have to forgive me.” Brennan runs his hand over his face, visibly warring something within himself, the lines on his face stressing. “You were right earlier when you said things are different now. These are not things that I really went through with you, not as prevalent as you. Emma, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t…I shouldn’t have ever considered making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I love you dearly, and you and Killian know what’s best here, not me.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Emma says, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so that she can squeeze Brennan’s hand. “You are so brilliant, and you uphold this family so well. I know that I’m different, that it was difficult to accept me, but change can be good, you know?”
“I know.”
Brennan stays for a little while longer, hashing out a few more details with them before accepting a cup of tea and some food, finally listening to them talk about their holiday all the while scratching behind Indy’s ears, her eyes closed in bliss the entire time. It’s peaceful, relaxing, and he feels his shoulders loosen the longer the conversation goes on, Emma’s laughter and joyful voice sounding throughout the room. In the back of his mind, though, he keeps replaying the conversation, thinking of everything he said, everything they all said, and he’s amazed it all went as smoothly as it did, surprised that his father acquiesced to their private exit from the hospital so easily. He had no idea that Emma wanted that, and he wonders how long she’s been toying with the idea, how many late nights she’s spent worrying about bringing it up. He knows she didn’t just think of it now, that it wasn’t spur of the moment, and he tries to remind himself to ask her about it later, to make sure that there’s nothing else she’s hoarding inside.
She goes through enough, has gone through enough over the years, and she shouldn’t feel like she has to hold things back from him.
But he saves his thoughts for later, letting his dad leave and letting Emma take a nap, her eyes falling shut without her even laying down on the couch. He wakes her before she can get into too deep of a sleep, though, knowing that it’ll hurt her back, and helps her go upstairs to their room, ignoring the curses she’s muttering under her breath about him waking her up. While she sleeps, he goes downstairs to his office, answering emails and clearing out his inbox that he left alone while they were in Spain.
Summer is normally a slow time for them, June and July full of engagements while August is usually taken off to spend in Balmoral. Emma’s due in September, though, a few days after his birthday, and she’s not working after August begins. He is, though, doing his regular work and making a few short trips, making sure never to never travel more than three hours away in case he needs to be home.
But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things to do now, organizing his files and reviewing the financials for Kidding a Goal until Indy comes walking into his office, her nails clicking against the wood until she’s staring up at him with her mouth wide open, tongue practically falling out of her mouth. He checks his watch and sees that it’s far past seven. He’s surprised she didn’t come and get him two hours ago.
“You ready to eat, my girl?”
That gets her tail wagging before she takes off, running toward the kitchen at such a pace that she’s probably there before he even gets up from his chair. Sure enough, she’s already waiting next to her bowl like the most well-behaved dog in the world, which is not something he expected when he and Emma decided to get a dog last year. But she’s done well, their training working most of the time, but Indy does have the tendency to lick his face when he’s sleeping. He’s not a fan of that.
But she’s his best bud and a constant companion on his runs, so it all evens out.
After feeding her, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, Emma wandering into the kitchen with sleep-rumpled hair and pillow streaks on her face, her pajama top falling off of one shoulder. She immediately heads toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and some yogurt before settling down on a barstool.
“How’d you sleep?”
She grunts in response, opening her yogurt and eating a large spoonful. “I hate being pregnant sometimes.”
“So not well then?”
“Nope. I felt like my guts were all being squeezed out, but do you know who’s not moving now that I’m awake and out of bed?”
“Andy.”
“Yep.”
She keeps eating her yogurt, quickly finishing it up before getting another carton. He should probably fix something for dinner so she doesn’t consume the entire yogurt supply in their fridge.
“Hey, sweetheart?”
“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling her spoon out of her mouth and looking up at him, her hair deflating the slightest bit from when she came down.
“You want to tell me what that was earlier? With my dad. When did you decide you didn’t want to do the public announcement?”
“Oh, um, I first thought about it a few weeks ago, but it was really driven home after last week. Why? You have an issue with it?”
“No,” he laughs, leaning down across from her and propping his elbows on the counter. “I think it’s bloody brilliant, that you are brilliant. I like that you want to do things your way…our way. It’s very sexy.” “Oh boy, if you’re looking to get laid right now that is not happening.”
“Well damn. Now I have no reason to compliment you.”
“Shut up,” she groans, tossing her spoon over into the sink, the metal clanking. “But seriously, you’re okay with all that, right?”
“Of course. I want you to do what makes you comfortable. I’m not the one giving birth.”
“Damn right. I think I’m going to give your dad a heart attack though.”
“Aye, definitely. I know he’s trying and he’s being accommodating, but I could practically see the fear of breaking traditions rolling off of him in anxiety-filled waves. But he’s seventy-three. Some things just aren’t going to change.”
“So basically we hit the jackpot today?”
“Yep.” He walks over to the fridge, opening it up and seeing what they have left over from before they left. “What do you want for dinner?”
-/-
“Bloody buggering hell,” he curses, bringing his thumb to his mouth and soothing where he just jammed his finger on the wood.
Building a crib should not be this difficult, but it apparently is. He’s been following the instructions exactly, making sure that each piece is doubly secure, and he’s not sure how it’s taking this long. He should be finished, this crib should be made, and he should be able to move onto the shelves or Emma’s glider that she was insistent on them getting.
He’s spent more time in this room in the past month than he has in any other room in the house, June somehow running away with itself all while he’s been hidden away within these four walls. It took a month and a half for he and Emma to decide on a simple light gray, one that he’s pretty sure is also in their bedroom, but honestly, once they both agreed on the color (likely because they have agreed on it once before), he wasn’t going to say anything else. He did pick out the gray-ish blue that’s on the wall with the shelves (or at least where they’ll go once he gets to them), so he’s pretty proud of it.
Neither he or Emma are much one for designing, though they have gotten a bit more into it since the remodel of the apartment, but he’s pretty proud of how Andy’s room is shaping up, even if the lad will stay in the bassinet in their room for awhile. It’s a simple room, clean lines and clean colors. All of the furniture are different shades of white and warm browns, woods really, with natural accents. Abigail gifted them a large wooden giraffe along with some leaf and animal prints, so those are sitting in the corner waiting to be placed after all of this furniture is built.
His favorite part, though, is definitely going to be the little sitting area by the shelves and the changing table. He’s not under any impression that this is going to be a calm room, a place to relax, but he figures there have to be times when he’s rocking Andy back to sleep in that very spot, the shelves filled with colorful children’s books that’ll become routine reading one day as well as being filled with several stuffed animals and photo frames that he can’t wait to update with pictures. Of course, the cabinets below will be filled with the essentials, the things no one likes to talk about like diapers and nipple cream (that was something Emma did not want to know about, and he honestly doesn’t blame her), but they’re definitely still in the dreamy, picture perfect nursery phase where the messiness of a child isn’t quite a factor.
Really to him, as much as he knows this is real, as much as he sees the physical proof, feels the physical proof (which holy shit is it incredible to be able to feel his son move), it’s still difficult for him to comprehend that in two months he and Emma will have a child. It’s something they’ve talked about for years, something they were planning on, but it’s difficult to put into words just how much love he has for his son.
And his wife.
She’s a rockstar in every sense of the word, and if he doesn’t mention it enough, Emma sure as hell will. He loves her fiercely, and that love is another thing that he can’t quite put into words. He honestly doesn’t understand men who moan and groan about their wives constantly. If anything, he finds it disgusting. Yes, you’re going to have disagreements with your significant other. That’s natural when you decide to spend your life with someone who has their own wants, needs, and opinions, but at the end of the day, his wife is his best friend. If there’s anyone he wants to spend time with, it’s her. No question.
If the answer to who your best friend isn’t your spouse or the person you’re marrying, he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d bother getting married. His mates are great, but they’re not Emma.
Maybe he is a bit of the cheeseball that Emma always claims him to be, but he likes it that way.
He’s definitely going to embarrass his kids. All of the time. He can’t wait. He’s got a few years, but he can’t wait.
“You know we can hire someone to do this, right?” Emma asks, a bit of laughter in her tone that makes him roll his eyes. His best friend, most definitely. The teasing is just a small part of that.
“Aye, but I’ve started it, and I intend on finishing it.” “Okay, but the crib doesn’t need to fall apart while there’s a baby inside of it, and the glider doesn’t need to fall apart while I’m sitting on it. That’s, like, a double disaster, and I know you lived by yourself for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you’re not capable of that anymore.”
“Oh, really? Because I was just going to make them as unsafe as possible so that I could live by myself again. I miss being able to stretch out in the bed.”
“You’re so funny,” she teases from the other side of the nursery where she’s putting away the washed clothes in the closet, organizing them by size. He swears they have enough clothes to last Andy for the first two years of his life, and that’s not counting the piles of things he knows David and Mary Margaret have at their house. “I think I may have bought him too much stuff. I don’t even think I own this many things.”
“You don’t mess your clothes up multiple times a day.”
“Good point.”
“I tend to make those.”
“Eh. Debatable.”
“Not at all debatable.” He turns back to the crib, looking at the instructions to see if he can remember where he left off before Emma distracted him. “Shit, this is impossible.”
“I can call my dad, babe. It won’t be a problem. He’s a bit handier than you.”
“Please, I am plenty handy.”
“Okay, well being handy with me is not the same as being handy when it comes to building things.”
“If we call your dad, he’s going to take over. I want to do some of this myself.”
“I will tell Dad just to help. Come on, babe, you love spending time with my dad.”
“Only now that he doesn’t give me the scary speeches anymore.”
“Yeah, I bet those were a lot of fun.”
“I mean, it’s been a solid half a decade since I’ve gotten one, but he still shakes me to my core.”
He hears Emma laugh, snort really, before she makes her way over to him, slowly settling down on the floor next to him and waving her hand until he gives her the instructions. She looks over them while looking at the crib, her eyes continuously darting between the two.
“You put part G in backwards. That’s why nothing after that is fitting.”
“Bloody hell,” he curses, reaching over and taking the instructions from her hand and checking to see if she really did just solve his problem, “how did you see that when I’ve been staring at it for the past hour?”
“Fresh eyes, my love. Fresh eyes.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek before falling back against the wall. “And that’s exactly why calling my dad and asking him to come over in the morning will be a great idea. I bet Mom will want to come too, and she does a mean job with a power drill.”
So Emma calls her parents who agree to come over in the morning. On top of moving, they’ve also begun to change around the hours of the pub, opening it earlier and letting Will close it out at night. And it’s because of this that they show up at eight in the morning, he and Emma both still asleep when their doorbell rings. Emma groans when she hears it, burying her face into his chest and making it impossible for him to get up without disturbing her. He can feel Andy summersaulting around in her belly, and he smiles to himself knowing that she’s going to have get up. She can’t sleep when he’s moving around like that.
He can’t sleep when Emma’s basically running marathons in bed, but that’s not something he’s going to voice out loud. He can get up and sleep in a guest room if he needs to. Emma can’t get up and walk away from the person who’s running marathons in her stomach.
There’s two human feet inside of her. That’s pretty weird if he thinks about it too much.
Okay, so really weird.
Slowly but surely he gets out of bed, letting Emma flip over into his spot, and heads downstairs to open the front door. David and Mary Margaret have a key, but they never use it, always waiting for either he or Emma to open the door for them, which he appreciates after one too many times having them walk in on he and Emma.
“Hi,” he greets, opening the door and ushering them inside. “Emma’s still asleep, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Do you guys want some breakfast?”
“We ate at home, sweetie,” Mary Margaret greets, giving him a quick hug before David does the same. “So Emma said you guys were having some issues in the nursery.”
“I believe that it was more like Killian not being able to put together a crib in under three weeks.”
“So funny, Dave,” he bites, rolling his eyes and locking the door. “I did eventually figure it out. I just think this mid-July heat is obviously getting to me. Or maybe nerves. I’m not too sure.”
“Well, let’s go help then. We’ve got to be at the pub at two, but I think we should be able to get things done.”
After he fixes himself some coffee, not nearly as wide awake as David and Mary Margaret, they head upstairs and begin working in the nursery, assembling the shelves and drilling them into the walls in half the time that it would have taken he and Emma had they done this by themselves. So maybe help isn’t all bad. Before Emma even wakes up, they have the shelves installed and pictures securely nailed on the wall. There are books already being stacked, stuffed animals and knick knacks being placed, and all of the fun nipple creams and breast pumps being placed in the cabinet.
They’re working on the glider when Emma finally wanders in, her hair falling out of its band so that half of it spills down her back while the other half is piled on top of her head, and she’s got her glasses on, something she only does when her eyes feel too puffy to put her contacts in.
“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets, finishing tightening the screw he’s working on before getting up to embrace Emma. “How are you feeling?”
“Rough today. I think the little dude’s a giant or something because he crushes my lungs and my bladder at the same time. So I can’t breathe, and I have to pee. So, yeah, it’s fun.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, dad. It looks fantastic in here. You guys have done so much. I feel like we’re not going to have anything to do in the next two months if we finish all of this.”
“That’s kind of the point, love.”
“Yeah,” she yawns, covering her mouth, “I know. Mom, do you want to come and rest with me in my room? My back hurts today, and I just can’t sit on the floor in here with you guys.” “Of course, hon,” Mary Margaret answers, walking away from the closet and stepping over to Emma before she rubs up and down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want Killian to join you? David and I would be fine to work on our own.”
“No, it’s fine. I bug him all day, and I’m kind of thinking that you can paint my toes for me or we can watch movies or something. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that.”
“Text me if you need me, love,” he tells Emma, his eyes tracing over her in a bit of concern. It’s difficult watching her be uncomfortable or miserable on some days when he literally can’t do anything about it.
“Yeah, babe, I will.”
Emma and Mary Margaret walk out of the room, their voices fading away as they walk into their bedroom one room over, and he’s left with just David who promptly gets back to work finishing building the chair. Music plays in the background, an eighties’ playlist he thinks, and it doesn’t take longer before the chair is completely together and he’s sitting in it testing it out. It’s comfortable, probably one of the best seats they have in the house, and he can definitely understand why Emma insisted on this one after shopping around a bit.
“How does someone so small have so much stuff?”
“My child is twenty-eight years old, we don’t even live in her childhood home anymore, and I swear things of hers still pop up all of the time.”
“That’s likely because Emma leaves everything all over the place.”
He folds his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth while Cherry Bomb plays in the background, which is definitely not a nursery appropriate song. Or maybe it is. Who needs Mozart when you can have The Runaways?
“So is Emma like that every day?”
“Like what?” he asks, popping an eye open to look at David who’s sitting against the shelves, which can’t be good for his back. God, how old is he getting if his first concern is for someone else’s back?
“Exhausted.”
“No, not every day. She’s usually got a hell of a lot of energy, even if there’s always a nap. I think she had a restless night. She’ll tell me like it is, though. If she’s having a bad day, she’ll let us know.” “What about you?”
“Well, I don’t have a baby crushing my lungs and my bladder.”
“True,” David laughs, running his hands through his short hair. Killian swears it’s gotten more gray in the past year, the blonde nearly disappearing. David is only fifty-two, so he’s not exactly older. Hell, if it weren’t for the wrinkles on his forehead and the gray hairs outnumbering the blonde, he’d look much younger. “But I remember being a dad for the first time. It’s terrifying, so you’re allowed to be scared.”
“I am. It’s…” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear, his hair getting long enough that he knows he needs to get a haircut soon. “Emma and I try to make sure that we keep up our normal routines, that we have our normal conversations without talking too much about the baby, but it’s kind of hard, you know? It’s like we’ll be talking about going out to eat and two minutes later we’re making a list of middle names or speculating if he’s going to look more like me or Emma.”
“I know. But it’s an exciting time, Killian. There will never be anything like it, and if you want to talk about the fact that you’re having a kid, you should. You and Emma have been together for so long, and I really don’t think your relationship is going to struggle if you’re not sitting around making references no one else understands for hours on end.”
“Oi,” he protests, resisting the urge to pick up the toy elephant next to him and throw it at David, “that is your daughter you’re mocking, and she can still kick your ass.”
“Trust me, I know. Who do you think raised her to be like that?”
“Mary Margaret.”
“You’re walking a thin line.”
He winks at David, his lips ticking up on the right into a smirk. “I know. You and Mary Margaret did such a good job, still do such a good job, and even with all of the times you’ve messed up – ”
“ – which is a lot more often than even Emma has probably told you.”
“I just…you’re a good dad, Dave. To Emma, to me. I hope I can do half as good as a job.”
“You’ll be great, Killian.” David smiles at him, something genuine, and Killian’s reminded of how much David really has impacted his life in all of the best ways. “I promise. And as much as I love you, I do love my little girl more, and she’s going to be amazing. She’s always…she’s never been too open to a lot of people, but the people she loves, she loves so fiercely, you know? And she’s already doing so well at being a mom. She’ll call me at nights, and I can just hear the happiness and excitement in her voice. At the end of the day, that’s all you want, you know? For your kid to be healthy and happy.”
“Yeah, I know.” He smiles to himself, thinking of how happy he is. “Also, how dare you imply that you love your own daughter more than me. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought we had something special, man.”
“I can still give you hell. I’d watch yourself.”
He and David finish up in the nursery for the next few hours until David and Mary Margaret have to go to work, leaving after the three of them eat lunch down in the kitchen, Emma staying upstairs for a nap. When the Nolans are gone and he’s finished eating, he heads upstairs, bypassing the nursery and walking into their bedroom where Emma is sitting up on the bed watching TV.
“Your toes look nice,” he compliments, grabbing onto her big toe and moving it back and forth. “Do you feel any better?”
“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting onto her back and scooting up the bed, “it’s just one of those days, you know? I’m not usually this miserable.”
“I know, but it’s okay to have bad days, love.”
“Come here,” she tells him, crooking her fingers and motioning toward him before she turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. He does as she asks, kicking off his sneakers and crawling up into the bed, the mattress moving against his weight until he’s pressed up behind her, his knee stuck between her thighs and his arm wrapped around her waist while the other rests above her head. This is how she’s been comfortable lately, and he can’t say he minds. “Did you guys get a lot done?”
“Aye, it’s almost all finished.” He moves her hair off of her neck, placing a kiss there before resting his chin on her shoulder. “It just needs your finishing touches, I think.”
“And we have to unpack all of the boxes that are in the guest room and put them away in the closet.” “That too, but we’ve got time, Emma.” She hums, and he can feel the vibrations as well as Andy moving around under his touch, the movements following how he taps his fingers. “Has he been active today?”
“Not since I woke up, but he always responds to your voice.” “Yeah, he recognizes me?”
“Of course, you talk so damn much. How could he not?”
He turns his head and presses a kiss against her jaw, biting a bit just to tease her. “You are not a very nice woman, my love.”
“Oh please, I’m, like, the seventh nicest person you know.”
“Seventh?”
“I figured it was conceited to put me at number one.”
“Possibly.” He moves his hand against her stomach again, snaking his fingers up under her pajama top so that he can feel the warmth of her skin. “So he really does get more active when I talk?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty weird to think about, but it’s true. He likes when you talk. I think it’s because you’re a much better story teller than me.” “I mean, obviously.”
“And that he’s probably just glad to hear someone else besides me. Imagine being stuck with someone for nine months. Good God.”
“Well, I’m stuck with you for forever. Good God.”
She groans and curses him under his breath before she scoots over and turns in his arms, slowly but surely moving to face him. “Don’t be an asshole. Also, so I was talking to mom today, and she wants to be called Mimi. I think Dad wants to be called Papa, which I like as long as that’s not what you want. I know that’s what some kids call their dads.”
“Aye, it’s what Lizzie calls Liam, which is weird since Alex doesn’t do that. But I’m okay with dad or daddy, so David can be called Papa.”
“Yeah, I kind of like it. Mimi and Papa. And then your parents are Gammy and Grandpa, right? That’s what Alex and Lizzie call them.”
“Aye, but I know Mom didn’t want to be Gammy. It’s just what happened. She says it makes her feel old.”
“Your mom is not old.”
“I know, but considering your parents are barely fifty while my parents are in their sixties and seventies, it doesn’t help.”
“I’ll tell my parents to get older then.”
He smiles at her before closing his eyes and settling into his pillow, letting his head sink down into the softness. It’s calming in here, the lights turned off and curtains closed while the ceiling fan hums a steady rhythm above them. He could fall asleep like this even if he’s not the biggest fan of naps, always somehow ending up groggy when he wakes up, and it doesn’t help with the way that Emma is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers scratching into his scalp.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
He pops an eye open, looking at Emma and smiling when her nail hits a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Aye, I’ve got the Investiture ceremony at ten. Why?”
“Just wondering. I was thinking we could go somewhere. Just us. Maybe take Indy to Berkshire and let her run around, spend some time outside.” “We can do it in the afternoon, if you want. I think the weather is supposed to be nice.”
“Yeah,” she sighs, leaning forward and sliding her lips over his for a brief moment, “I think that would be nice.”
The next day after he’s finished with the ceremony, he hurries home, changing out of his suit and into shorts and a t-shirt, slipping a baseball cap onto his head and grabbing something to eat for lunch while Emma does the same, her hair falling out of the back of her hat in a long ponytail. They’ve got all day, but the afternoon’s weather is pleasant enough that he’d like to go now so they can stop by a café for dinner, even if that’s the absolute last thing that Thomas will want them to do.
They want their privacy, but they should be able to go out to dinner.
So he and Emma load up into his car, letting Indy sit in the backseat with the window rolled down so she can feel the mid-July breeze blow through her fur. It doesn’t take long to get to Windsor, pulling into their parking garage less than thirty minutes later, and instead of going inside like they’d usually do, he hooks Indy up to her leash while Emma grabs some water bottles and they head to the private gardens, avoiding the visitors wandering around on tours.
As much as he prefers the spring, mild July days are near the top of his list of favorite things. Everything is brighter, more pleasant. The grass is actually greener, the flowers contrasting against their background to create a landscape of whites and shades of purple, while everything is covered in a clear blue sky, only a few white clouds scattered throughout. New life blooms, and he gets to be the one to appreciate it, to revel in it. England can be so dreary sometimes, the weather somehow reflecting the moods of most people on their morning commute to work, so he appreciates when it’s not. He’s always loved the outdoors, and if there’s any complaint he has about his home, it’s the small private garden that they have to themselves. He’d like something larger, more space to run around, and sometime in the future, he and Emma plan to spend more time in Bucklebury so that they have the privacy.
That’s what they’ve decided on since returning from Spain last month. There’s been more lengthy, draining discussions with his parents and their security team than he’s ever wanted, and as much as he feels like they haven’t really accomplished anything, he knows it’s a slow process. Of course, there are drawbacks to every positive. They’re still going to have to spend most of their time at Kensington. It’s closer to their work, to their families. Hell, Emma’s parents just bought a house so that they could have the ability to spend time with their grandchild, and now they’re going to move away from them. It’s less than an hour drive, but it’s not nearly as close as they currently are.
But everyone understands, and they don’t plan on moving any time soon, not until Andy’s a bit older. They want to be near all of their loved ones when he’s younger, and they’ve spent so much time working on their home, making it exactly how they want. It’d be difficult to leave full time, so it’ll be nice to have the option of both.
It’ll be even nicer to give Andy the most normal life that they can possibly give him.
Emma whistles next to him, her fingers between her lips, while Indy runs back to them from where they let her loose. She was about five seconds away from jumping into a pond full of fish, and as much as they’d usually let her swim, they don’t need to have a wet dog with them for the rest of the day. So she runs back to them as quickly as she can, her legs leaping in the air with her black and white fur bouncing the slightest bit. He’s convinced that she shouldn’t be able to be that quick, but she’s still just a young dog, less than a year old, and though her legs will get longer, he doesn’t think she’ll ever be full of this much energy again.
If she is, he and Emma are definitely in over their heads.
With the dog.
He’s going to choose to not think of what it’ll be like with a toddler than can run and a dog that he can run after.
After she calms from her almost pond dive, Indy walks along in front of the two of them, occasionally wandering off the stone path to sniff around in the plants, nearly tearing up several flowers until they call her back to keep walking. They stay wandering for a little over two hours, not caring where exactly they’re going or if they’re circling back around in the same spots. Indy and Emma get tired around the same time, so they settle down onto a stone bench with a patio cover that’s next to another small pond.
In the distance, he can see the Chapel where they were married, the steeple rising up above the other buildings and stone walls, and he smiles to himself thinking of that day. In the grand scheme of things, he knows that when it comes to he and Emma, as important as it was, they had so many smaller, inconsequential days that he holds just as fondly in his heart.
But that was a pretty damn good day.
He stretches his arm out over the back of the bench, wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder and tangling his fingers into the ends of her ponytail while she leans her head on his shoulder, the bill of her hat hitting him in the chin for a brief moment. He’s glad she suggested them getting away from London for a little bit, for suggesting that they change up the routine and spend a day enjoying summer, especially since they’re missing out on Scotland with the rest of the family.
A month in the same place as everyone is likely a bit long, anyways. He loves his family, but that’s a lot for anyone.
“I love you, you know?” Emma asks out of nowhere, her gaze never falling away from the rippling of the water in front of them, a fish leaping up out of the water while the lily pads float around.
He squeezes her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm and kissing her head even if she can’t feel it through the hat. “I know. I love you too.”
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saturnmyg · 6 years ago
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Lichterloh  | Kim Taehyung
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Synopsis ⤑ you’ve heard endless stories about small towns. That the folks living there loves to gossip all day, that theres always that one kid dreaming of making in in the big city. And of course the tales about supernatural beings lurking in the woods. After moving into town your’e surprised that you landed in a place that seems to be brimming with those beings and how the town just accepts them. Yet somehow just shortly after you’ve settled down you find yourself pulled into a scavenger hunt on the lookout for a glowing head that belongs to the Dullahan named taehyung.’‘
➵ paring: Dullahan Taehyung  x Human reader
➵ A/n: happy halloween peeps!! 
 this is a part of the halloween collaboration!
| 12.9k words | Horror au |  gore | Major character death | action | small town horror au
| warnings: description of ungodly beings/ body horror
masterlist 
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
''Ah, that belongs into the living room'' you tell the movers and they nod at you.
You've lived your whole entire life in a high rise city, where theres constantly something going on. With the years passing by, the stress of trying to function in a system that forced you to think about your value as a human being, based on how productive were /how much money you can made, caught up to you.
So when you found about the small town named Silverdell you instantly packed your stuff and got ready to leave. Of course your mother opposed, saying that moving so far away from the family, to a small town that barely made it on the map was just dangerous. Nothing could change your mind so you proceeded with the moving, but you had to promise her to call her at least four times a week.
The weird thing though was that at first, you couldn't find the town. For some reason no matter who you asked for directions, they'd tell you that they never heard of that place and that you should ask someone else. Finally after driving for a few days through the midwest you finally arrived in silverdell, only to find the truck that had your belongings already standing in front of your house.
''You know'' you turn around to face the man thats standing next to you smoking a cigaret ‘’I’ve been wondering how that truck arrived here before me, considering that i couldn’t find this town’’
The man, who goes by the name of sam, chuckles. He’s a man of average height with a full beard and wild hair that lowkey reminds you of a pirate. ‘’that happens to every newcomer’’ he takes a long drag  of the cigaret ‘’you wont find silverdell until the town accepts you’’
You furrow your brow ‘’accept? as in the town council accepting you?’’
Sam shakes his head ‘’Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval’’
‘’so you have to send a letter to let them know you're leaving for a certain amounts of days?’’
‘’Nope'' Sam answers '' it will know’’
With furrowed brows you look away. His answer is confusing, sure he earlier said that silverdell has its own mind but its not like its actually alive, or even sentient. Your'e sure the reason why you couldn't find the town was because you're bad with directions.
‘’Oh please that one belongs into the kitchen, careful it has kitchen utensils inside.’’ You say to a young mover.
The blasting of the siren is so loud you jump out of your skin. Panicking you turn around to look up at the sky, where the sun is hanging low in the horizon and the blue hue has turned red.
‘’Whats going on?’’ you turn to sam with wide eyes.
Sam on the other hand, his expression is still the same, almost as if he knew that would happen and was counting down the seconds. He presses the cigarette against the fence to put it out ‘’The headless rider is about to come out’’
Slightly annoyed you look at the burnt mark of your wood fence before turning back to sam ‘’he what?’’
‘’No time to talk, first let’s get into the house’’ he ushers you towards the house where you see that all the other movers are already inside, peaking their head out of the door waiting for you two to enter.
''Wait whats going on, and why are you all in my house?'' you ask bewildered and shut the door behind you. Walking into the living room you see various movers sitting on the unfurnished floor while unpacking  your boxes.  
Embarrassed you walk up to them. ''please you don’t have to do that i can do that on my own’’ you scratch your cheek
‘’Don worry’’  one of the boys answers. ‘’Until the night rider is gone we have nothing to do anyways , might as well help you unpack’’
‘’Who’s the night rider?’’ you ask
Sam whose standing by the windows, closes the curtains and turns around to face the you all with a grim expression on. ‘’The headless rider is a being you shouldn't talk or think about’’
The boy whose the closest to you, and spoke up earlier, rolls his eyes ‘’there he goes again’’ and turns around to look at you again ‘’ theres a tale amongst the elder that the headless rider is a being that eat’s human souls and sometimes their body too but there hasn’t been such an incident in over two hundred ears’’ he explains and stretches his hand towards you ‘’anyways i’m jun, don’t worry about sam he's an old grim man who thinks death is lurking on every corner of this town’’
Jun looks around your age. He has dark honey colored skin with almost waist long black hair. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, showing an intricate tattoo on the right arm.
‘’I’m Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it ‘’but back to the headless rider’‘
‘’Ah yes’’ jun counters ‘’if you go by folklore then the night rider is the harbinger of death but if you go by what towns folk say then he’s a human eating monster’’
You raise your eyebrows at that
‘’Every sunset the rider comes out of the forest, holding a lit torch and gallops from one end of the town to the other with creatures from following him, weirdly though it’s always only one direction that he brings them to.  There are some theories that the reason he does that ,is because at sunrise he brings them back, but theres no evidence backing that up ‘’Jun finishes
‘’why has no one ever seen him?how do you even know that he exists? or know about his activities?’’ you ask baffled that the towns folk just believe something wholeheartedly without even having it seen with their own eyes.
‘’Because those who aren’t inside a building the moment the last siren ring, usually go missing the same evening’’ Jun answers with a serious expression
‘’That still doesn’t explain how this tale got spread around’’ you counter ‘’dead men tell no tales’’
Jun just blinks at you for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders and continues to take items out of the box.
‘’Thats just how it is’’ Sam speaks up ‘’ when the siren rings you hide, when you see angels you ignore them, thats how it has been for decades’’ He faces the small radio thats on the table ‘’in this town its very dangerous to question traditions or rules, you ought to be careful’’ and curbs the knob.
The radio makes a static noise for a few seconds until you hear a bewildered nasal voice speak up
''Yoongi how can you say you don’t believe in them, even though you starred one dead in the eye and showed me a picture of it?''
The movers in your house all chuckle at that
The other person, presumably yoongi ,just sighs deeply almost as he's used and tired of the first host's outbreaks. '' first of all it was around eight feet tall and skinny like a stick figure i thought that was an abstract piece of art , theres no way that was wendigo''  
you stop in your tracks and look at the radio in perplex, ‘’a what now?’’ you ask no one in particular.
Sam who sees the look of confusion on your face just shrugs his shoulders, as if to tell you to get used to it
Hoseok just sputters '' man come on we all know what a wendigo looks like , yoongi how stubborn are you?, did you not notice the never ending eyes on its body?’’
‘’I 'mean it did but i was too occupied to not vomit from the stench of  greg’s butchery’’ yoongi counters
‘’God that store should be banned to serve people, i’m pretty sure he uses inhuman creatures to- hold on why were you even near that place?’’
''Clearly to not buy meat Hoseok'' yoongi answers ‘’i was just taking a stroll when i found it standing by the butchery’’
‘’Wouldn’t surprise me if it actually eats the shit Greg sells’’ Hoseok says ‘’but anyways back to reporting, as for no-’’
‘’-as for now no one's dead because we all know to stay inside if you don’t want to be taken by the council for seeing the headless, and i’m putting quotations marks on ''headless'' dear listeners,  rider'’’Yoongi interrupts
‘’Really?’’Hoseok asks ‘’so you think that the headless rider is something that the city council has made up to, i dont’ know , manipulate us?’’
‘’Lets be realistic’’ Yoongi counters ‘’no being can be alive without a head, even vampires are known to die if you cut their head off’’
‘’chickens do though’’ Hoseok continues ‘’like they'll continue to run around, which is frankly creepy as hell’’
‘’The minute you separate the brain from the neck, just like in humans, you’re going to get tremendous movement of the limbs, please did you not pay attention in biology class?’’
‘’Firstly i majored in art’’ Hoseok answers ‘’secondly everything that happened before college i have no memory of, hell i don’t even remember half of the shit from college.’’
‘’Thats sad’’ Yoongi states
‘’Anyways’’ Hoseok deviates from the topic ‘’as Yoongi said there are no reports of anyone gone missing this week, besides old Berta's cat but thats nothing new.’’
‘’It really isnt’’ Yoongi continues ‘’after this ad we'll open up the lines so please listeners stay tuned’’
While the ad is playing, you faintly hear the sound of the siren go off again but this time only for a few seconds. worriedly you look over to the window and see that another mover, this time a woman,  is pulling aside the curtain very slowly almost as if she's expecting a monster's face instead of hers to appear in the reflection. After inspecting the outside for a few seconds she finally turns around and gives the people in the room, that are watching her ,the thumbs up.
‘’Alright then’’ Jun says , stands up and stretches himself.
With him standing there in that pose you notice how well build jun is which adds more to his attractiveness and your’e just a little bit envious on how good he looks.
Jun notices you looking at him with your head tilted and with a slight pout and raises an eyebrow.
‘’Do you work out to have a figure like that?’’ you ask
Jun lets his arm fall down and runs one hand through his long thick hair ‘’oh hell no, this job is already working me out ,going to a gym would kill me’’ he laughs ‘’its all genetics’’
‘’Oh’’ you hum ‘’you sure are blessed’’
jun strikes a ridiculous pose that probably a character from Jojo's bizarre would do ‘’i know right?’’
Shaking your head you laugh and turn to the others who are still in the living room  ‘’thank you for helping me unpack’’
A large hand lands on your shoulder and you turn your head to see sam smiling at you ‘’no problem , thank you for letting us into your house otherwise we'd be dead meat’’
‘’Lets go’’ Sam hollers and some of the movers come out to the hallway, you didn’t even notice them going into your bedroom.
‘’The bed is set up’’ The man standing at the entrance of the living room, says and gives you a big smile.
You smile and bow slightly in thanks and the movers slowly trickle out of your house .
‘’Dont forget to tune in to the  community radio, they often announce stuff from the city council’’ sam says as he standing in the doorway ‘’ but dont worry if you forget it will turn on itself’’ he laughs and you just furrow your brow.
As you bud him goodbye you notice another figure standing next to you and you turn your head to see jun.
''Hope you don’t mind that i ripped a paper off but heres my number, lets hang out or go shopping or something, i feel like we'd be good friends’’ Jun hands you a piece of paper
Usually you're not one to take numbers from men's, since a lot of them , if not almost all, have a hidden agenda.  Which you don’t feel that Jun currently has, the feeling you get from him is more of a theatrical person thats always dramatic. You know, like, laying in a field of roses after your crush got asked out by someone else- type of person.
Basically hilarious.
So you accept the small piece of paper and smile at him ‘’sure , i'll text you, might take a while though because i first have to get used to this place’’
‘’No problem’’ Jun waves his hand dismissively ‘’if you got any questions though just text me i'll help ya’’  and walks out of your house , waving his hand with a big smile on his face.
Chuckling slightly you close the door and walk down the hallway into your bedroom.
You truly are grateful that the movers helped you unpack and put your furniture together, because you really wouldn't know how to without getting confused because you're so bad at following instructions. Well its not like Ikea makes it easy to follow and they keep giving people extra assets that just end up frustrating everyone who buys the furniture
The big queen sized bed takes up most of the space in your room but you don’t mind that, at least you're able to have one not like when you used to live in the big city , where the apartments were narrow but expensive.
besides the bed and various boxes that contain clothes there really isn't anything in the bedroom yet. The emptiness makes you slightly uneasy and you're overcome with the feeling of panic and dread. It’s the type of emotion you get after the excitement and adrenaline is gone, your’e left with uneasiness and panic thats slowly seeping yet throbbing from your chest as if you have a hole where your heart is supposed to be. For whatever reason you feel like you're back to being 18, back to the kid who kept getting panic and anxiety attacks over everything,  back to the kid who never lived without a family , yet alone in  another city.
That emotion over comes you so strongly, that for a second you feel like the walls are closing on you and you're getting choked. You shake your head and slap your cheeks a few time, before letting your hands fall down and almost run into the bathroom.
You slam the door open and in two quick long strides you're standing in front of the sink. Your hands are trembling as you reach for the faucet and turn it. The water feels cold underneath your finger tips and you gather some of it onto your palms before leaning down and splashing it onto your face. The coolness of the water a little bit takes the panic away but its still lingering in your chest.
You step away from the sink and lower yourself to the floor ,where you wrap your arms around your legs with your head hanging between your knees. For the next 20 minutes you're slowly rocking yourself from side to side , while taking in deep regular breaths.  It’s a technique you learned online a while ago and has up to now proven to be useful.
As you finally have calmed down , you slowly get up from the floor and see your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is messy, sticking up in different directions, your complexion is slightly green, which you think has to do with the fluorescent lighting if anything, and you turn away.
You walk out of the bathroom, down the hallway back into your bedroom.  You open one of the boxes that has clothes written on it and take out a shirt. Not even bothering to look for pants , you get changed , open up another box that has the blanket and pillows inside, and throw them on the bed before getting onto it.  You remember that your phone fell earlier and lean down to pick it up, scroll through your podcast app before finally deciding on which episode to listen to. You put the phone right next to your head and just a few seconds later you're out like a light.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
Closing the door behind you , you take a deep breath. Yesterday night was , well to say, horrible. You've always had anxiety issues , not in the way that you have trouble talking to people or talk in public , its more that once you're left alone you get the so-called "what-next thoughts". Which always plays out the worst case scenario that could happen to you. Meaning you instantly realize how insignificant your existence is and that if you died right now, it would take weeks for anyone to notice. You've been getting help for that though. Before you moved to silverdell you doctor gave you a prescription so that you could get it refilled at the pharmacy.
which is where you're currently headed to. Silverdell is a beautiful town. Alongside the street there are trees ,which leafs already have turned brown and orange. The air is so crispy to the point where if it wasn’t so sunny you'd think it might snow at any time.
A breeze of cold air blows and you tighten the scarf around your neck. It’s getting close to the end of september and the streets already smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. As you're enjoying the view you notice a trail of kids running past you while giggling and shoving each other, and you smile.
You've always liked working with children, they hold a lot of freshness and innocence , live in their own little creative bubble , and yet are very understanding of a lot of things that parents be overreacting about. The only reason why they then later on sometimes turn out  to have a bad attitude / personality is because of the way they were raised. They subconsciously tend to soak the behaviors in their environment  ,up like sponges, not even realizing that those behaviors aren't socially acceptable. Thats why you became a teacher, to at least lead the kids in the right path but also protect them from the cruelty of the world and society.
Speaking of school, tomorrow will be your first day as a teacher in silverdell. You're slightly nervous but excited, you just hope that your coworkers are nice and not demons disguised as humans like at the last school you worked at.
You shake your head at that thought, you'll cross the bridge when you get to it.
‘‘god please let me find the pharmacy’‘ you silently pray and take out your phone , according to google maps its only a few meters away from you
Turning around the corner you finally arrive at the pharmacy. It’s a small white store that has mint colored decorations, you also spot various pot, plants, around the entrance that gives the store a welcoming feeling.  
Walking up to the entrance, you see that one of the plants is a cactus. When you arrive you bend down to inspect it. It’s a huge dark green cactus that has  multiple vertical lines going down the round figure with needles sticking out. At the top there is a hole, you're not really sure if its an actual hole or if its just an illusion that was created by the lighter color, but you see that there is where the most needles are gathered.
Out of curiosity and impulse you reach out and softly lay a finger on the plant, to which you are, to no ones surprise, stung by a needle. You straighten up while clutching your hand to your chest  and look at your hand. you press the finger together to see a tiny drop of blood coming out of the wound and sigh.
Shaking your head you let your arm fall down, give the plant a last glance before entering the pharmacy.
At the counter stands a woman that seems to be in her forties. Her hair is tied into a braid with stray strands framing her face that has a warm yet gentle expression on as she works on some documents.
She lifts up her head as the little door bell rings for the second time when the door closes behind you.
‘’Oh my’’ She says with a surprised expression ‘’are you new in town?’’
''Is it that obvious?'' you ask bashfully and walk up to the counter
‘’Not at all dear’’ she smiles ‘’its just that this town is quite small so we all know each other, but anyways how may i help you?’’
‘’Right’’ you answer and take out the prescription from your wallet and hand it to her, alongside with your insurance card ‘’i need a refill of my medication’’
‘’Coming right up’’, she takes the card from you, puts it on the table before disappearing in the backroom.
You look around while waiting for her to come back, the inside of the store is just as lovely as the outside. The walls are stacked with various medicine but you notice the same minty color peeking out behind the shelves. The air is very clean, almost biting with the disinfectant still lingering in the air, and for a moment you regret forgetting to take your mouth mask with you. Its not like you're asthmatic but strong smells usually give you a migraine , and using a mask usually helps to dull it down to a slow throbbing.
‘’Here we go’’ The pharmacist says while walking back to the counter, scans your insurance card and furrows her brows as she looks at the computer display.
‘’Is something wrong?’’ you ask. You've paid your insurance bill so there shouldn't be any problem but sometimes the card doesn't function or doesn't get accepted by the pharmacy and you really hope that that isn't the case today.
‘’Oh no no’’ the pharmacist laughs ‘’i just forgot to wear my contact lenses today so i had a bit of trouble reading the display’’
you sigh in relief
‘’But’’ she continues ‘’i just saw that your doctor has written in the data that these medications have to be taken continuously’’ she hands you back your card and the medications. ‘’if they're finished just come back and i will refill them again’’
‘’will do’’ you answer and put the medication into your purse, bid the nurse goodbye and walk out of the store.
The minute you're out of the pharmacy you stop in your tracks. You're not sure if you just imagined that but when you bid her goodbye her smile looked weirdly large for her face and for a second you thought you saw branches ,that looked like antlers ,growing out of her head.
Slowly you turn back and see the pharmacist, typing something on the computer looking normal and you furrow your brows, turn back to the road.
‘’What in the hell’’you mutter and continue walking towards the mall thats quite close to the drug store.
.....
As you're walking past various stores, an unimaginable stench makes it way to you and the urge to vomit is so strong that you slam your hand to your mouth and turn away for a second. The odor is one of a corpse decaying, well you don’t actually know what a corpse smells like but you're pretty sure it would be similar to this.
Turning around you face the way you were talking towards too and frown. On the left side of the building stands in bold red, almost blood like, letters '' Gregs Butchery''
''They weren't wrong about the smell '' you think and hurriedly walk, no  run past the building into the big grocery store thats two stores away from the flower shop and the ''butchery''
The grocery store is just like any other.  Worn out regals stacked against the washed out yellow walls ,while in the background a remix of an eighties city funk song plays.
‘’God that was disgusting’’ you mumble and wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie. You take out your phone and reach over to the stack of baskets thats right next to you, and take one.
looking at the shoppings list you made in the notes app , you subconciously bite your lip and walk further into the store.
...............
You're looking at your phone again, not for notifications or anything, just checking if the items in the basket match the ones on the list. Which they do ,but you have a feeling that you earlier forgot to write down something important that you need but cant remember what it is.
‘’garbage bags?’’ you mumble ‘’no i - ouf-’’ With all the thinking you're doing you aren't even paying attention to your surroundings and walked straight into something, or somebody.
You take a step back and rub your nose thats stinging slightly '' my bad'' and look up. The first thing you see is black, a black thats so dark where if someone shone a flashlight at, whatever is in front of you, the light would not be reflected. It’s almost as if the void has manifested itself somehow in this shop. The second thing you notice is that the being standing in front of you has the thousand upon thousands of branch like looking bones growing out of it , how you even missed something so grotesque looking, is baffling , but then again this is you we're talking about.
The being turns its body around and you see that its face is empty of facial features. Theres not even a slight dent or shadow of a nose or mouth that could indicate that it’s wearing a mask. Slowly the creature tilts is head, almost as if it’s wondering why you approached it, and leaves without a word.
Not like it could say anything without a mouth anyways
You on the other hand have already astral projected into another dimension.This whole interaction is so surreal to you, that for a second for a second you think you're on mtv's candid camera show, and that this whole thing is just a set up.  
You come back to your senses when you feel a hand on your arm and jerk in surprise.
‘’dazed ain’t you?'' the woman next to you chuckles ‘’everyone is when they see they see an angel for the first time’’
‘’Huh?'' you turn your head towards the woman and blink a couple of times  ‘’excuse me , a what now?’’ She’s a plump 5′2 tall woman with amber skin and undercut and a gummy smile that makes her eyes disappear into crescent forms when she laughs. On the other side of her’s shes holding a hand of a roughly ten year old child thats boredly starring into nothingness , probably waiting for her mother to finish so that they can go home.
The fact though, that she called the ominous being an angel is baffling because to you it looks more like something that jumped out of h.p lovecrafts book.
‘’An angel’’ she shakes her head ‘’they're very nice, they always help me with any chores or escort luna home, and despite the fact that theyve lived here forever people still ignore their existence’’
‘’but thats not how angels look?’’ you quietly retort not wanting to seem disrespectful
The  woman chuckles again and pats you on the arm ‘’what you know as angels is what society taught you with no actual evidence of them ever looking like that’’
''But the bible-''
‘’The bible described them as terrifying which they are’’ she points at the angel thats at the counter waiting for the cashier to ring their stuff up, which he isn’t cause when you look closer you see that the magazine the cashier is holding is slightly crumpled and shaking , probably out of fear.
‘’also it has been translated into other languages so many times that by now half of was originally was written is lost in translation’’ she continues
You tilt your head ‘’so basically everything i know is a lie?’’
‘’No no, not everything is just that in this town, the laws of nature and society don’t apply’’
Great, what type of town did you move into. Yesterdays fiasco was already weirder than anything you've experienced and you kinda swept it under the rug. but this? this is something that even a skyscraper cant hide, and obviously the emotions you're feeling  shows on your face because the black woman bursts out laughing.
‘’Im sorry’’ you apologize flustered not wanting to offend her and come off as uptight
‘’No need to apologize’’'' she says and waves her hand ‘’newcomer’s reaction are always funny to watch but you're the first one who didn’t run away’’
''yeah one day that will be the death of me'' you think and smile wryly at her.
‘’I have to go’’ the woman continues ‘’try to greet the angels once in a while ,theyre harmless’’
You give her a tight lipped smile and nod. The woman chuckles for the last time and walks off , towards the angel whose still at the counter apparently waiting for her to come pay since the cashier is still ignoring the being.
You shake your head and sigh again, glance back to the counter for the last time before proceeding with grocery shopping.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
‘’We're so glad to have you in our team’’ the dean says as you're walking down the school hallway. The dean is a elderly short baldheaded man with round glasses. He's wearing a suit thats a little baggy on him but it gives him character. He kind of reminds you of popeye but with a softer , creakier voice.
It took you some time to find the school, since google maps seems to not always work it took which gave you the same problem you had yesterday  when you were looking for the pharmacy. You'd think for such a small town it would be found easily , which it wasn't because it took you around forty minutes to find the facility. Its located on the other side of the town, which in your opinion is just unethical and slightly annoying.
Whoever the founder was of silverdell clearly wasn't thinking logically, it would be way more proficient if the school was in in the middle where it would take the same amount of time for anyone to reach it
‘’I'm excited to be working here’’ you reply and smile down at the dean who just, not chuckles but makes a similar sound to it.
‘’Let me introduce you to the other teachers’’ he says as you two come to stop in front of a dark wooded door and opens it.
The room is pretty normal. Various abstract drawings are hanging on the eggshell white walls giving the place a slightly modern feeling. In the middle of the room theres a long table placed along side with books and other items. On the left side, the side you're actually standing in, is a small kitchen that has a coffee machine and freshly washed cup and glasses.
‘’Oh?’’ a honey voice speaks up and you turn your head to the person you think it came from. ‘’Who do we have here?''
The voice that you just heard belongs to possible one of the most beautiful human beings you have ever seen in your life. He has midnight black hair where one side is falling into his face while the other side is slicked back. Thick plump lips that are stretched into a smile ,revealing a row of pearly white teeth. He's not particularly tall, you're pretty sure you're taller than him but then again you're taller than most women, but you see from the outfit he's wearing he's well build.
Honestly he's so beautiful its like god took his sweet time making him, plus he's sending you a smile thats so bright you want to shield your eyes, it’s like you're looking at the sun.
‘’Didn’t hear that there would be someone new’’ another low voice speaks up and your eyes wander to the person thats standing right next to him. He's a tall man that looks around your age with strawberry blonde dyed hair, thats slightly hanging in his face. He has a strong yet straight nose and thin lips alongside with big doe eyes that makes him look even younger than he already is. You already have the feeling that out of the two, he's the slicker one.
The black haired boy stretches his hand towards you ‘’i’m Park jimin''
You take his hand into yours and for a second you notice how long your fingers are compared to his but thats ought to happen with your height. ‘’Y/n’’ you retort and give him a firm shake before letting his hand go.
‘’Jeon jungkook’’ The strawberry blonde man says not even bothering to shake your hand as he's preoccupied with twirling the volleyball on his finger like a basketball.
Jimin just sighs at Jungkook’s retort, turns around and slaps the ball off ‘’we're not in college anymore where are your manners?’’ he scolds
Seeing Jungkook's expression you hold your laughter in. His lips are pursed but the look in his eyes sell him out that he's planning to pull a prank on the shorter man. Obviously jimin notices the look and slaps him on the arm to which jungkook just grins before turning around to you with an outstretched hand
‘’Again'' he starts ''i’m Jeon Jungkook ''
you nod ‘’nice to meet you’’
''Which class are you teaching?'' Jimin asks and crosses his arms
''1A'' The dean speaks up and you jump in surprised. You didn’t even notice him joining you three with a cup of coffee in his hand. ‘’speaking of’’ he continues and turns towards you'' classes start soon i hope you understood everything but if you have questions don’t be afraid to ask mister Park and mister Jeon.’’
Jimin and Jungkook both smile at you and you nod ‘’will do’’
‘’Alright then’’ Jimin says and yawns ‘’1A is right next to my classroom i'll show you the way’’
‘’Thanks’’ you smile, bid the dean and jungkook goodbye before leaving the breakroom.
‘’Are you nervous?’’ Jimin asks as he's walking next to you down the hallway
''More excited'' you answer ‘’i’m good with kids but i just hope everything goes okay’’
Jimin turns his head ‘’you just moved here right? what do you think of silverdell?’’
carefully you mull over your words, not sure if its appropriate or too soon to tell him about the supernatural beings and weird customs that you've come across. ‘’it will take some time for me to get used to this town’’ you answer him instead.
Jimin laughs, a laugh that sounds like angels are singing and you smile too ‘’well thats to be expected, but don’t worry everyone settles down pretty quick'' He stops in front of a classroom. ''this is 1A, i’m right next door if you need something’’ and bids you goodbye.
The classroom is just like any normal middle school classroom is supposed to look like. Since it’s not the start of a new school year, you see that the decorations on the wall probably were made by the students and you smile.
You walk up to the teachers desk thats right by the window and put your bag down and take your items out. You're so lost in your thoughts as you organize the your items on the table you don’t even hear the bell ring.
The sound of the door slamming against the wall and the chatter of high pitched voices rip you out of your thoughts and you look up to see students walking into the classroom. At the sight of you at the desk they stop in their tracks and whisper to each other.
‘’Good morning’’ you greet them and some greet you back while others just nod in silence as they walk towards their desks. After all the students are sitting at their desk you walk to the blackboard and write your name on it.
‘’'I'm your new teacher’’ you turn around and face the students ‘’i just recently moved here from the city and i have to say i’m surprised in how much greener it is here, meaning we could once go hiking in the forest’’  you clap your hands together
The moment those words leave your mouth the entire classroom gets quiet. The eyes of the kids are almost glued to you in a creepy way, the expressions on their faces are kind of empty.
A chubby boy with black hair raises his hand ‘’ma'am no one ever goes into the forest’’
Oh boy , this is exactly what you feared, that the kids would be just as weird about the town as the adults are. So instead you give them a tight lipped smile ‘’why?’’
‘’Because the monsters will eat you’’ another student says , the tone indicating that you should already know about the taboo.
‘’Or the headless rider’’ the same chubby boy finishes.
This is the third time you're hearing about the headless rider. His existence still makes no sense to you, how can everyone be afraid of him and tell horrible tales on how he kills humans but yet no one has actually ever interacted with the said being.
‘’Marissa did see the headless rider once’’ a girl speaks up and almost every student turns around to look at her with a scornful expression on their face.
''Whose Marissa?'' you ask and tilt your head.
‘’Someone that has turned into a memory’’ the girl from earlier answers, whom you recognize to be the daughter of the woman from the store you met few days ago. Just like her mom she has brown skin, dark hair and intelligent looking eyes, that seem to know way too much than what a ten year old should know.
‘’Alright then’’ you clap your hands together to get the attention of the students ‘’lets play two truths and a tale to break the ice so i'll get to know you better.’’
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
‘’Goodbye ma'am''! the chubby boy, who's name you learned is Evan, says and waves as he leaves the classroom.
‘’Bye!’’ you smile and wave back. The moment the door slams shut your hand instantly falls down and you sigh deeply. ''Well that was a train wreck'' you think and gather the books together and walk over to the regal thats by the wall and put them in neatly. You walk back to your desk pick up your bag not before flickering the light off and walk out of the classroom.
As you're walking down the hallway you see a tiny baldheaded figure that couldn't belong to anyone else but the dean. Who apparently saw you coming because he stops walking and wait for you to catch up to him.
''Y/n'' he greets cheerfully '' how was your first lesson?''
''Good evening'' you greet back '' it was good actually'' you finish. The dean just chuckles and starts walking down the hallway with you following him.
‘’say’’ you start ‘’what happened to Marissa?’’
The dean turns his head to face you, anger mixed with fear clouds his eyes for a second before returning back to normal ''someone thats better not to be spoken of if you don’t want anything happen to you'' he answers.
At the ominous answer the hairs on your neck raise and you resist the urge to take a step back. The way he worded it its like the town will kill anyone who questions their traditions or goes against the rules, plus his whole demeanor screams that you shouldn't ask any more questions.
''A-alright'' you stammer and the dean sends you a tight lipped smile in return.
'' The dean turns around in the doorway he’s standing in ‘’i'll see you tomorrow’’
‘’Have a nice evening’’ you reply and bow slightly. When the door slams shut you sigh and put a hand on your chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat underneath your fingertips. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk down the hallway towards the entrance and out of the facility.
When you're outside you notice that the shun is already starting to set. That isn't surprising considering that its fall and the days are getting shorter but at the same time that means that you'll either have to hurry back home since the sun sets around at five pm. The other option would be you waiting at school till the coast is clear but considering todays conversation you0d like to spend as little time as possible with the dean. Especially since now it seems that he's keeping an eye out on you.
You shake your head and look up at the sky.Azure blue has now turned into spectacular colors of orange and red mixed with purple, its so beautiful that you take out your phone and take a picture of it. Satisfied with how the picture turned out you send it to your mom and put it back into your pocket.
‘’I should buy a bike’’ you mumble and continue to walk home.
..............
''Hey mom'' you greet your mother and wipe your hands on the towl thats hanging at the wall right by the kitchen sink.
‘’Y/nn dear are you alright?’’ your mother asks loudly sounding frantic.
You grimace and hold the phone away from your ear ‘’i am, why did something happen?’’
‘’What do you mean? , you sent me that ominous picture with no text whatsoever nor did you call me ever since you arrived at wherever you are’’ you mom rants
You know your mom has only your best interests at heart, ever since she found out about your anxiety it’s like she herself developed it too with how much she worries about you being alone. Which on one hand is reassuring but on the other you're already twenty eight and kind of need to venture out in the world on your own.
''ominous picture? what are you talking about? i sent you a picture of a sunset'' you retort and furrow your brows
‘’sunset?’’ your mom's voice pitches up a few octaves ‘’all i got was a picture of a black cracked background with the letters '' if you did, you wished you didn't’’
‘’oh go-’’
‘’and where are you?’’ your mom continues ‘’iv’e googled the town name but nothing showed up, i even asked my coworkers and no one knows about silverdell’’
''Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval''
you grimace, hoping that whatever Sam said was just some good o'l superstition ,but up to now  with everything that you have experienced, it looks like thats not the case
‘’mom seriously i’m safe, i’m not being held hostage by some mobster or anything like that, why it doesn’t show up on google though i don’t know.’’ you say , trying to calm her down. Theres no way you're going to tell her about the towns strangeness , knowing how she is she'd probably get into her car while she's talking to you and drive off, ending up lost in the middle of nowhere.
Your mother hums on the other side of the phone, by the tone of it you know that she's not fully convinced but will believe you for now. She then continues to talk about her annoying coworker, thats always trying to one upper her in everything and how she wants to screw her head off.
While she's rambling off you're finishing drying the dishes and put the back in the cupboard, occasionally humming in agreement to let her know that you're still listening. Reaching over you take the other towel and dry your hands, put it back on the wall before turning towards the living room. You notice that the blinds are still open and a wave of panic comes over you. you dash over to the other room, of course not without you stumbling over furniture, and quickly close the blinds.
Your heart is beating wildly against your ribcage and it takes you a second to calm down.
''Sweetie are you okay?'' your moms voice comes out of the phone that you’re still holding
‘’uhm yeah!’’ you heave ‘’just stumbled, fell almost on my face’’
your mother sighs deeply ‘’you were always the clumsy one’’ and you just chuckle. Though it quickly fades as you start hearing noises coming from the ceiling. your eyes widen and you jerk your head upwards . The dull sound of something similar to heavy footsteps becomes louder and louder and you furrow your brows. ''are they trying to break my roof?'' you ask yourself and hold the phone closer to your ear.
‘’Mom let me call you back, someones knocking no the door’’ you interrupt your mother, hoping that she doesn't hear your voice shaking.
‘’sure’’ she reluctantly answers ‘’'i'll talk to you later, and remember call the police if something fishy is up’’
‘’Will do’’ you say and hang up ‘’ the police might not help in this situation''
You jump when you hear the static of the radio ripping, slowly you turn around and tilt your head sideways. ''Did you just turn on by yourself?'' you ask out loud , but the radio doesn’t answer instead it continues to flip through channels until you hear a familiar voice coming out of the speakers.
''dear listeners we just received a report stating that  the roof inspectors have already begun their work, we would like to remind you to leave a plate of cookies or milk with honey on the porch as a thank you gift. Another reminder would be that you should absolutely not look directly at the workers as they like to be unknown to the public. Not meeting the criteria will have consequences''
''They like to be private?'' the voice you recognize to be yoongi asks '' we're literally broadcasting this to every citizen in silverdell ,how is that private? on top of that they want food'
Hoseok laughs nervously ''lets not trash talk about the roof inspectors ''
''Or what? they're going to break in and kill me?''
''That are dangerous words yoongi'' hoseok chokes out
''Oh don’t give me that look, i’m not planning to have a chat with them all im saying is that its suspicious''  yoongi exclaims
''maybe so but you should know better than to voice out your thoughts considering we're on live broadcast''
You have a sneaking suspicion that that warning is towards you, maybe its just you being paranoid but the sounds coming from the ceiling sound almost impatient? agitated? you're not sure and you don't want to find out.
So you venture back into the kitchen, open the cupboard and take out a plate and a glass. Fill the plate with chocolate chip cookie, not sure if your choice of cookies will fit their taste you reach into the fridge to take out milk. Pour three spoons full of honey into the glass and mix it up all together. You take out a tray, put the dishes onto it and slowly walk to the front door of the house.
Putting down the tray you unlock the door and slowly open it, praying that whatever is making the noise isn't standing in front of your door. Of course mother nature ignores your plea, because nothing ever goes the way you want it to and you stumble back at the sight.
In front of you dangling from the lowest part of the rooftop edge  hangs a long arm that has white fur on it, which lowkey looks like it belongs to a yeti. Its fingers, if you can even call them that, stretch out like its impatiently waiting for you to hand it the tray. With shaky fingers you pick up the tray, avert your eyes and hand it to the worker, trying to not touch it.
It takes the tray from you, makes a sound that could be described as a mixture of a growl and grunt and vanishes.
With wide eyes and a rapid beating heart you close the door and clutch your chest '' what the absolute fuck?!'' you whisper and run to the kitchen.
There you grab the salt and a chair before returning to the front door,  sprinkle salt along at the gap and barricade it by putting the back of the chair underneath the doorknob. Sure the inspector might be able to kill you and you doubt that a little bit of barricade will hold it back but it sure as hell makes your anxious self feel safer.
Quietly you walk down the hallway and switch off the light, before walking into your bedroom and locking the door, hoping that tonight you'll at least be able to sleep.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
‘’Jimin’’ you call out .
Jimin who's sitting at the table reading a book ,that looks like if you tried reading it it would fry the remaining braincells you have, looks up with raised eyebrows. ‘’yes?’’
‘’So’’ you drawl out ‘’i sent a picture of the sunset to someone and apparently the picture they got was different from what the original one, do you know whats up with that?’’
Jimin leans back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair ‘’ honestly we've been having this problem for a few months now, the after school science club is trying to figure out what the problem is.’’
You raise your eyebrows ‘’the who?’’
Jimin waves his hand dismissively '' thats their name don’t ask me how they got it, but they’re really smart though and have saved silverdell many times when we were in a pinch’’'
‘’well did they find out at least something?’’
‘’not really’’ jimin puts a hand on his chin ‘’we just know that silverdell is putting out some sort of high frequented waves that interferes with the phone, theres a theory that it doesn’t want people outside of silverdell knowing about it.’’
The expression on your face currently can be described as one of pure listlessness. Mentally you already clocked out days ago, but mother nature or as in this case; silverdell has it's way of surprising you. Sighing deeply you put one hand on the table and lean against it
‘’you know’’ you start’’ when i first moved here i was in love with the idea of a small town where the environment is beautiful, the people are nice'' you move your arm in a half circle motion ‘’not this’’
‘’How is that our problem’’ a voice says and you turn around to see jungkook leaning against the door frame.
‘’Jungkook!'' jimin scolds and frowns
‘’What?'' jungkook asks and pushes himself away from the door '' isn't that her fault for having high ass expectations? weren't you suspicious that you couldn't find silverdell?’’
‘’In my defense’’ you bristle  ‘’i just thought i was bad with directions ,who would've thought that its because this town is located in the twilight zone’’
Jimin and jungkook both chuckle at that ‘’hats what a lot of newcomers say’’
Picking up the empty cup of coffee you retort '' well maybe something needs to be changed so we don’t all keep repeating the same thing'' and walk over to the sink.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
Its been over a month since you've moved to silverdell. You somehow got used to the weird customs of the town and nowadays you're not even fazed by the angel's anymore. on the contrary you sometimes let the angel's carry your grocery home or you when they don’t fit on the basket of the bike. In the beginning you were quite shocked and afraid ,when the ominous being stood in front of you and reached out of the bag. Which resulted in you screaming out loud in horror thinking that you're going to die. It took one staff member to calm you down , which took quite some time because apparently the angel didn’t realize that you were scared of it , and kept starring at you as if you had the answer to the Da Vinci code.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
‘’I forgot to tell you , you did well today’’ The woman, miss lewis, whose standing at the door says smiling brightly and leaves.
Todays parent teacher conference day and you just had your first meeting. You're so glad that instead of a soccer mom who has a blonde bob and a nasty attitude you got miss lewis. Maybe she noticed that you were nervous otherwise because her whole presence was reassuring. From the smile to her body language nothing indicated that she was being hostile and you look forward to working with her in the future.
Gathering the documents on the table you put them aside and take out another one that has all the information about your student named calypso. Calypso is a smart girl with a peppy attitude and a mouth that can talk forever, yet she never disturbed the class and always hands in her homework so this meeting should be short and go well.
As you're standing up from the chair, the door slams open and you jerk in surprise, letting out an embarrassing squeak. Looking over to the door your’e see a tall woman slumped against the doorway as she's clutching her chest and breathing heavily. The woman is dressed in a black suit and the first button of her white dress shirt is open. Her black hair is cut into a blunt bob with bangs that stop right by the eyes.
‘’I hope i’m not late’’ she heaves
You shake your head and smile ‘’ don’t worry you came just in time''
The unknown woman nods and walks towards you and you notice that she's almost as tall as you are. ''Min yoonji i’m luna’s mother, nice to meet you’’
‘’Y/n’’ you say and take her hand into yours ‘’ and likewise’’
‘’My wife had an emergency so i had to run from work here’’ Yoonji says and sits down
You put a hand on your cheek ‘’i hope its nothing serious’’
Yoonji waves her hand in front of her face ‘’she's just clumsy , i hope she doesn’t’ burn down the kitchen again though’’
You hold your laughter in and turn your head away, not knowing if it’s appropriate to laugh or not but the fact that Yoonji said the word ‘’ again’’ makes it even more comical.
When you hear Yoonji chuckle is when you turn your head back towards her and see her smiling faintly and you can see how much she loves her wife.
‘’So lets get started’’ you say and clear your throat ‘’luna is a very smart student who up to now has always done her homework’’
Yoonji nods
‘’She participates in class , i see no behavioral problems besides her sometimes making remarks towards her friends.’’ you smile and so does Yoonji ‘’what i did notice though is that when it comes to math her way of calculating slightly differs from what i teach her but that can be managed’’
you put the notes down ‘’this would be all, do you have any questions?’’
Yoonji claps her hand together ‘’not a question per se but my wife and i would like to be notified if the class is going on a school trip’’
You nod '' thats mandatory otherwise i wouldn’t be allowed to leave the school ground with the students''
Yoonji then picks up her bag and stands up with you following her actions.
‘’if later on you have any question please feel free to call me or mail me’’ you say and stretch out your hand
Yoonji shakes your hand firmly nods. She opens her mouth to say something but the noise of the classroom door slamming against the wall interrupts her. In the doorway stands a woman that looks ,well to put it nice, like the wicked witch of the west's third sister.
oh boy
‘’Hope you have a nice evening’’ Yoonji says through gritted teeth and lets go of your hand before walking towards the door and giving the other woman a nasty glare.
The woman totally ignores yoonji and walks towards you instead, a scowl on her face as she musters you ‘’cant be even on time huh? did they hire a incompetent teacher this time?’’
You raise your eyebrows, it takes everything in your body for you to not glare at this atrocity of a human being in front of you ‘’actually ma'am you're just early theres a reason why we agreed for you to come at a specific time’’
She just huffs '' well i don’t have the time because i have to pick up Charles in twenty minutes from fencing’’
''why don’t we start then'' you say and point at the table, before sitting down
well looks like it will take longer than twenty minutes.''
..............
After the conference is over you collect the documents and put them on in the drawer. Getting up you look out of the window and see that the sun is already setting and a wave of stress overcomes you. Picking up your bag from the floor you speed walk out of the classroom, not before flickering the light off, and almost run down the hallway towards the entrance of the building.
Thankfully the parking lot for the bikes isn't that far away from the main entrance and you quickly get  onto it and pedal. The sky is already deep red and you can see that in around five to ten minutes it will be completely gone.
You're pedaling so fast that everything is a blur to you, how you haven’t fallen yet is a miracle because lord knows , that everything that could go wrong in a situation , usually does, when it comes to you.
''am i going to make it?'' you ask yourself and sharply cut the corner. Down the road you see a vast grass field and wonder if you should take a shortcut or not. But driving on the grass usually slows one down .but at the same time you cant afford to lose your life just because you aren't on time.
So you drive through the field instead. It only takes a few seconds before your legs become tired of pedaling so hard, to the point where you jump from the bike , hold the handlebar and run.  A few times the bike smacks itself against you but you don’t feel pain due to the adrenaline running through your veins.
Looking at the bike you see that it’s just dragging you down and it literally takes you a second to make a decision. Letting go of the bike makes your heart clench but you continue to run for you life till you finally leave the field and arrive on the street your house is on.
You heave as you take a three second break before continuing to jog down the road. The closer you get to your house though the more everything starts to flicker. Its like reality stopped functioning and your’e in a glitch. Looking around confused you almost stop in your tracks when you see a figure sitting on a black horse thats standing on the opposite side of the street, linear to your house. Its the Headless rider, his body turns towards you ,as black smoke comes out of the cut off neck and forms a question mark.
Your heart drops and your hand comes up shielding the left side of your face and you run even faster before jumping over the fence towards your house
With shaky hands you take out the keys from your purse and open the door before slamming it behind you. Sliding down to the floor you hug your knees as a wave of panic over comes you. You're about 99.9999.2% sure you're about to die today. Theres no way you're going to survive now that the headless rider has noticed you.
With shaky legs you walk into your bedroom and lock the door, praying to every god thats out there that they will bless you with divine protection and that if you do die , it will be at least painful.
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
its been two days since you saw the headless rider. To your surprise you actually woke up the next day and on top of that without any injuries, even your house is unscathed! Yet for some reason you cant help but feel like someone has been following you ever since. Its like you keep seeing something flimsy out of the corner of your eye, but its never really in your field of vision.
''im just being paranoid'' you think and grip the bag tighter as you walk out of the grocery store. It’s almost midnight but you were craving some sweets and ramen noodles so of course you went out and bought them.
You're so lost in thoughts that you don’t even notice the tall figure standing in front of you and promptly walk into them. The person, if you can even call them that cause the body is so hard it feels like you walked into a wall, grips your shoulder and steadies you.
'’You rub your nose ''thank-’’ the words die on your tongue as you look up and see that its the headless rider. Now that your’e closer to him you see that his skin is glowing slightly green giving him a frankensteins monster type of look and that his hands are long yet bony.  The smoke moves in slow motion as it comes out of his head and you feel sick to the point of needing to vomit.
‘’Have you seen my head?’’  an ominous voice booms through your skull so loud that you push the headless rider away and clutch your head instead, You just know you'll have a migraine later on.
you look up ‘’can you please try to not scream in my head?’’
''My apologies '' the being says
Slowly you stand up and rub your temples ‘’i haven’t seen your head, i wouldn’t even know how it looks like’’ you turn around and with shaky legs take a step before an arm grabs you. The feeling of dread overcomes you instantly.  His hand is so cold that it seeps through your jacket into your body and you shudder. ''is this what harry potter felt when he was around dementors?''
''Help me find it''  he says , no, demands.
‘’please stop touching me first’’ you manage to say without stuttering and he releases your arm.
‘’What would happen if i refuse?’’
''You don’t want to know'' he answers and you shudder. with the way his neck is leaning sideways you can almost see how if he had a head he'd be cocking it and waiting for your reply, what expression he would have on you can say though.
Between choosing to go with him and come back unscathed or being hunt down and killed by him and other creatures, its only logical that you chose to go with him.
‘’Alright'’’ you say and hold up the bag higher ‘’can i bring this home first though?’’
The headless rider points at the convenient store ''you can also just ask them to put it aside for you''
You furrow your eyebrows at that suggestion ‘’sure..’’ and squint at him. For someone so inhuman he sure does have a suspicious amount of knowledge of how humans work. ‘’ill be right back’’  and walk off
The little bell rings as you walk through the doors and the cashier raises her head ‘’good-’’ the word dies on her tongue as she she's you walking towards her. Her face completely pales and her eyes grow as big as saucers.
00would you be so nice and deposit this for me? an emergency came up and i cant go home right now’’ you ask with a wry smile and she nods . With shaky hand she takes the bag and puts it right behind her on the counter and gives you something thats supposed to look like a smile if it weren't masked with fear.
‘’thank you'' you say , turn around and walk out of the store. What you don’t see is the cashier's eyes following you until she sees you stopping in front of someone else and showing them your empty hands. The other figure nods and you both walk off . In panic mode she grabs the telephone and frantically dials a number, cussing under her breath as she’s waiting for the person to pick up. after the fifth ring she finally hears a click going through the phone and she speaks up
‘’He has her’’
⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑
Standing on the outskirts of the forest you look at the direction where the houses are located ‘’am i hearing sirens?’’ you ask out loud. From what you can see theres no where a house burning, so that either means someone is dying or that there is someone about to give birth
''Not important for us'' the headless rider says and puts a hand on the small of your back. ''let's go'' he says and pushes you forward into the woods.
The forbidden forest is nothing like you imagined, as a matter of fact you don’t even know what you expected but not this.The trees are so close to each other that you can only see the occasional streak of moonlight peaking through through the thick fog. Yet that doesn’t provide enough light for your eyes because you stumble over a root thats twisting on the floor.
Before your face can make contact with so said floor ,the headless rider grabs you by the arm and yanks you up.
''be careful '' he says '' shedding blood will only cause the creatures to come after you''
‘’jesus christ thanks’’ you retort and peel off his fingers ‘’by the way do you have a name? i dont want to keep calling you ''you''’’
the voice hums in your head '' a long time ago i did'' he answers '' a human once used to call me taehyung''
‘’Okay i'll call you that then’’ you say and look up to him ‘’another question though , were you once a human?’’
A deep sound that can be described as a chuckle rumbles from his chest ''never , i’ve been like this since the beginning ''
‘’ou yikes’’  you slap a hand to your mouth , you cant believe you just said that out loud ‘’sorry’’
''it's alright''
You nod and turn around to continue to look at the environment. Theres a dampness alongside with this weird feeling hanging in the air, it ripples on your skin like water making, all the hairs on your arm and neck stand up. This place might have once been full of animals roaming around, but right now its so eerie and empty ,you feel like if depression could manifest itself into something it would be this forest.
You grab Taehyung by the arm and you both stop. looking up, your eyes widen and blood leaves your face. Above you hovering are hooded figures with long boney limps. Their garment fluttering in the non existent wind yet they look so serene , almost as if they're taking a nap. But the longer you stare the more the figures seems to draw in closer
''don’t look at them'' Taehyung's voice rings through your head '' they feed on human souls and with each second passing a piece of your soul gets chipped away''
''Couldn’t you have told me that sooner''  you hiss and grip his arm tighter to the point that your finger nails leave half moon dents in his jacket.
''do not talk any louder, we're not the only ones here'' he warns you instead and you shut your mouth. With every step you're taking you're cursing at the gods and mostly at yourself. You can already hear your mother screaming in horror if she knew what you're doing. She'd probably lecture you about going with a stranger to the forest saying that that is the number one place for murderers to bury their victims bodies and how she raised you to know better.
''Sorry mom''
Taehyung pushes the leaves of the bush aside to reveal a glade. Its surrounded by trees as tall as cathedrals and a strange green light - almost holy - shimmers through the vast canopy of leaves.Giving you the impression that you're underwater. Deafening silence lays over the land and you feel like you're in a video game about to defeat a mid level demon boss.
''where are we going?'' you whisper to taehyung
''the place where all creatures go at sunset''
you furrow your brow ‘’and why do you need me for that?''
thats where my head is buried at for some unknown reason they’ve always been drawn to it, though it has a protective shield that nonhuman being cant enter''
your voice raises a few octaves as you realize that this is a part of his scheme  ‘’did you just lure me into this place so that you can kill me? Don’t tell me you don't actually need my help, you just wanted to eat me because i look what; appetizing to you?’’
Taehyung lifts his hands and one covers your mouth while the other slam chokes you against the bark of a tree ‘’you think very highly of yourself human'' he hisses '' but i do need it and after i received my head i could also leave you here ,since your so adamant about making our location known to every single living organism''
A branch breaks in the background and Taehyung lets go of you.  choking ,you slump against the tree, as you try to get air into your lungs and look up through your teary eyes. Behind taehyung stands a huge creature that looks similar to the angels that usually help you with chores. But unlike the friendly them, this creature looks like it's out for blood. Its mouth opens and a foul smell , that reminds you of corpses and rotting food, waves over to the two of you and you feel sick.
A scream bubbles its way up your throat and before it can leave your mouth , taehyung picks you up bridal style and starts running. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes and just hope that he's faster than the creature and that you aren't about to meet your demise
Minutes later he stops and you open your eyes to see that you're on  the top of a hill. Getting out of taehyung's arms with shaky legs you look around.
‘’Wow’’ you say in awe, amazed by how much the forest changes the further you go into it.
You see a river passing through the jungle wide and opaque. The water is so black it might as well be used as a mirror and for a second you're tempted to walk down and touch it .Yet you know better. The river is a sleeping cobra, It lies across the land in smooth seductive curves, singing an unknown song to its viewer, while it hides a myriad of dangers.
The forest seems to have an intelligence of its own, you notice.  An apparent system thats so complex no human would understand, yet it doesn't seem like it would work anywhere else but  here.
A sudden shrill noise, that possibly belongs to the earlier creature, echoes through the forest,  before it quietly settles, and suddenly it feels like a thousand eyes are boring into your back.
They know you're here
''Lets go'' Taehyung says and walks ,no, jogs down the hill.
‘’why don’t you just pick me up and run like you did earlier?'' you ask '' that would be faster''
Taehyung doesn’t need a face for you to know that he's complete done with you for using your three braincells over its capacity ''that would attract too much attention''
‘’You glow green for fucks sake’’ you call out and point at him ‘’we might as well be wearing a big ass sign that says ‘free food’’ 
Taehyung turns around and stomps towards you and you flinch
''Since you insist''  he says and picks you up and starts running down the hill. Seconds later you two arrive in the valley and he puts you down. ''We're close''  
You look up at Taehyung, his whole entire being suddenly gives off the vibe of a predator. Like he's watching your every move and waiting for the perfect chance to come so that he can pounce on you . Goosebumps rise on your arm and neck and you take a step back ''where is it then?'' you ask
Taehyung stretches his arm and points with a long bony finger behind you. Slowly you turn around to see huge fallen logs layered on top of each other forming a triangular shape. Underneath you find a huge pile of fallen leaves and in the middle something thats glowing green.
''I can only accompany you till where the shield is'' Taehyung says and you nod. You don’t like how he said that sentence, its full of hidden agenda and you're not sure if your mind is playing a trick on you , but you swear you felt the blood thirst coming off him. Another thing you notice is the closer you get to the head, the more the shield surrounding the huge logs, starts to glow the exact same green light that also taehyung is covered in.
As you stand right before the shield , your hand comes up and you try to touch it with no avail. Your hand goes straight right through it and your’e just a teensy bit disappointed. ''hold up''  you think and turn around to squint at the being named taehyung ‘’the shield doesn’t exist’’
''it does, i told you only a human can enter it'' taehyung answers patiently and walks up to you, stretches out his hand and touches the shield. sparks start to fly and you cover your eyes.  
''see?'' Taehyung says and lets his hand fall down
Instead of answering you start walking up to the log. Its in the worst place ever, not exactly on top of the hill but neither in the valley, just right in the middle. Which is a huge burden to you, the mud keeps sticking to your shoes yet it also makes you stumble multiple times.
You finally reach your destination but now you're heaving heavily and your legs feel like they'll buckle in any seconds. ''God do i have to touch the leaves?'' you murmur in disgust. You dont hate the nature as a matter of fact you like it, thats the whole reason why you even moved out here. That doesn’t mean though, that you want to stick your hands into muddy leaves that probably has all sorts of insects crawling and pick up a decaying head.
Mentally prepping yourself you sigh deeply before reaching into the pile and grabbing the glowing head. The head is just as cold as the body it belongs you and it seeps through your entire being. The longer you hold it, the more flimsy your surrounding begins to look and you have to squint your eyes in concentration so that you don’t fall down.
‘’Here’’ you say as you stand in front of taehyung and hand him the head.
''thank you''  he says and takes it from you and puts it on his neck. Suddenly taehyung starts to glows a green light thats so bright ,that you have to shield your eyes. Few seconds later the light dims down back its usual , glow int he dark slime, state.Despite that you're in awe when you look up and see that the neck is connected to his head, and for the first time you see what he looks like.
Taehyung is beautiful beyond words. Long dark lashes kiss his cheek as he looks down on you.  On the right side theres a mole and he has another one, on the slightly plum yet longish underlip.  dark hair that hangs low enough to touch his beautiful sloped nose as he dips his head lower to be at  your eye height. A smile overtakes overtakes his features and at first you're struck, until you start noticing thousand of eyes starting to glow behind his back. Your eyes widen and you look back at Taehyung who's smile grows into unnatural hideous grin that touches both sides of the head and bears one too many teeth.
you take a step back to which he slowly follows until you stumble over a root and fall down. Taehyung chuckles deeply at your cowering state and bends down.
This is it, this is how you’re going to die, in the forrest surrounded by blood thirsty creatures that are ready to pounce on you in any second. And for a millisecond you’re annoyed at yourself for going into the woods with the dullahan just to meet your demise. 
A growl rips you back into reality ‘’'what a foolish human you are Y/n'’ he says and your vision goes black
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wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years ago
Text
chapter 11.5 -- okay, 12, it’s chapter 12, fine, fine. I should stop trying to predict how long my chapters will be. I’m always wrong. the Fae AU keeps escaping all my predictions. it’s fine. it’s cool. 
[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]
It is not, as Apollo expects, the worst road trip he has ever been a part of. Trucy likes to sing along to the radio – she has a surprisingly good voice – which stops Clay from starting up his usual road trip tradition of bellowing out “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” and seeing how much he can get through before someone slaps him. Trucy claimed shotgun, as “the woman with the magic map”, meaning Apollo is shunted to the back with Ema, who upends her bag on the floor to pull from it a jumbo-sized pack of Snackoos and offer a handful to him.
“None for us?” Clay asks, pouting in the rearview mirror.
“Backseat privileges,” Ema replies.
Trucy cranks the radio up as a familiar guitar riff begins.
If it’s extortion, it works; she and Clay have not finished the first verse, Trucy’s almost-operatic interpretation running up against Clay’s off-key warbling, before Ema is shoving the Snackoos up between their seats, offering a trade of chocolates for an end to the car-vibrating force of Guilty Love.
“Not a fan?” Clay asks.
Ema groans. So does Trucy. “Don’t get me started,” Ema says.
“Yeah, please don’t,” Trucy adds.
“He’s a pretentious fuckin’ diva who—”
Trucy begins yelling out the chorus to the song over the second verse emitting from the radio.
They are all still arguing – Ema berating Clay’s taste in music while Trucy moves into an attempt to sing My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness to the tune of Guilty Love and Apollo tries to turn the volatile atmosphere anywhere else – when the song ends. Trucy shushes everyone, violently, smacking Clay on the arm and then flailing back at Ema, and turns up the radio. A DJ is in the middle of saying something.
“—announced today on their social media. While fans are disappointed, no one can say that the break-up comes as a surprise, after the sentencing of guitarist Daryan Crescend for murder in July, and the three months of, ahem, radio silence that’s followed. And earlier this week, leader singer Klavier Gavin’s brother was indicted on a second count of murder – I can’t say I blame him for maybe wanting to duck out of the spotlight. Gavin’s brother was previously charged in April, for—”
Trucy changes the channel. A commercial for a local furniture outlet doesn’t help break the awkward spell fallen over them. “Yeah,” she says, after a full minute, during which time they discover their new channel is a country music channel. “No real surprise.”
“Brother and bandmate,” Clay says quietly. “Hell of a year.”
“Hell of a six months,” Apollo says. And he was there for all of it – he was there for more of it than Klavier ever was. Klavier wasn’t there in April, not when Kristoph fell, not when any of them could have had any idea what was ahead. How much magic would surround them.
“If my older sister had been convicted of murder, I was gonna crawl into the dirt and die,” Ema says, “so I’m with the fop on that one, actually.”
There is a worrying lack of hypotheticals in the second half of Ema’s scenario. No “would have”s. Like she was where Klavier is, but the trial had a different outcome, and the frozen expression on her face, her eyes gone blank, she looks like she has caught up with her own words. Said too much. Apollo doesn’t know much about her as a person, her life before failing the forensics exam, how it was that she knew Mr Wright, but he can sympathize with that fear of having given away too much, turned the conversation down a path that should stay blocked off.
“You have a sister?” Trucy asks, turning around in her seat. “You seemed kinda ‘only-child’ to me.’ “Yeah,” Ema says quietly. “Older sister. Her name’s Lana. We don’t… talk much.”
Apollo doesn’t know why the name feels like it strikes something in his brain, the way Ema’s did when she first introduced herself.
“Oh.” Trucy visibly wilts. “Sorry.”
Ema shrugs, slumping back against her seat, her arms folded. “It happens,” she says. Her eyes are glazed over, settled in Clay’s direction. Her mouth quirks in the beginnings of a smile. “She took me to the Space Museum once, not long after it first opened.” The wistful smile has grown a little larger. “Back when I didn’t know what kind of scientist I wanted to be, so I wanted to go everywhere, and she was like ‘Ema I’m not taking you to the fucking tar pits again, how about space?’, and—” She shakes her head. “Sorry. Your jacket got me thinking. Do you work there or something?”
And that is the question that Clay most likes to be asked, that or literally anything else ever about space, and that is the end of any of them getting a word in edgewise – but while Apollo’s heard it all before, Trucy has questions galore, and Ema sits forward, slowly losing the pretense of not being enraptured.
-
They have driven for over two hours by the time Trucy directs them to pull of the highway at an exit that tells them there is nothing for them that way but another 38 miles until Kurain Village. “Is that where the Fair Folk live?” Ema asks dryly, in her voice none of the nervousness that people tend to have. Apollo hasn’t spoken much with her about magic, doesn’t know what she thinks – but, well, she knows Phoenix. That’s clue enough that caution comes secondary.
“Not really,” Trucy says. “They just named it that. It’s part of our world. Sometimes some of the fae do show up and hang around, I think – Maya tried to convince Daddy to move out here, once, apparently, but he wouldn’t leave the office.”
“Who’s Maya?” Apollo asks. Sometimes he realizes how little he knows about Phoenix’s personal life, too.
“Daddy’s friend. She’s – wait, stop! Here! Turn down this road here!”
“This is not a road,” Clay says, hunching over the steering wheel. “This is some dirt, off the road, not even in the shape of a dirt road.”
The car groans as Clay turns it off of the asphalt into the dirt. Trucy pops open the door and stands, holding herself between the door and the car roof and turning her face to the sky and the no-longer-distant mountains looming above them. She says something, muffled, and points into the trees. “We’re close,” she says, ducking back inside the car. “Let’s park and go – we’re close.”
“Park right here?” Clay asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
“Barely anyone comes this way,” Trucy says. “Like, one bus, except I’m not even sure if this is on its route. It’s fine.”
“I’m more worried that this is some sort of sacred ground that we’re stomping on,” Clay says, but he turns the key and then smacks his head against the top of the wheel. “How much are we going to regret just walking out there?”
“Probably we won’t,” Trucy says. She flings the door open and jumps out, stretching her arms up into the air. “C’mon already!”
“So what are we doing now?” Ema asks, crumpling the Snackoos bag back into her bag and tumbling forth from the car like a liquid spilled. “Just walking into the woods until we find treasure or a bear?”
“We do have a map.” Trucy waves it at her. “But yes. That’s what we’re doing.” She lowers the page halfway to her side and then stops, tilting her head back. “I’ve been here before,” she says. “Grandpappy and I – sometime – sometime after my mom died.” She takes a few slow steps toward the treeline, her movements uneven, as in a daze. “It was just the two of us. And we came here, and we buried—” She spins around, eyes wide, looking at all and none of them. “We buried his grimoire.”
Without another word of warning, she dashes into the woods, sending them scrambling to catch up to her. It’s colder here than in the city, though Apollo didn’t think they went up too far in elevation. Leaves thickly coat the ground; do they hide rings of flowers beneath them or do those in their magic break through? They finally reach Trucy when she, focused on her map, walks straight into a tree and takes some time to properly reorient herself.
“Do you know why here, of all places?” Apollo asks. “Is it because of the mountains, and he was…?”
He stops. Does Trucy know what her grandfather was? Phoenix didn’t say. Of course he didn’t.
“He said this is where he landed,” Trucy replies, crunching a leaf beneath her foot. “He said he fell, and this is where he landed.”
“Was he—” Clay’s sense, that question that they all know they shouldn’t ask, that question that Apollo has asked again and again anyway, wars against curiosity, against more than wanting to know – needing to know, to understand what is Trucy’s family. “Was he, erm, one of – Them?”
He can’t even bring himself to offer up one of the epithets. This close to the mountains, Apollo isn’t sure that he could bring himself to speak of them plainly like he has learned to.
“Yeah,” Trucy says. “But I’m human. Don’t worry.” She flashes a grin, one of her usual grins, but it is tempered by the speed with which is vanishes from her face again, replaced by a frown of concentration. “I think we must be close, but not quite yet.”
“Hey, Trucy?” Ema asks. She pushes a branch out of the way and it snaps back to nearly strike Clay in the face. “Not to pry, but – if your grandfather was one of the Fair Folk, are you the changeling, or was it your mother?”
Trucy stops.
“Wait,” Ema says. “Not a changeling – that’s the fae child. The human kid, the one swapped out. Is there a word for that?”
“I don’t think so,” Trucy says. She hops over a log. “I don’t think there’s a name for people like that.”
She doesn’t answer the first question. Maybe she doesn’t know, either.
“When you say you buried it,” Apollo says, aware that there is nothing subtle about this lifeline he is throwing to pull her away from questions best left avoided (am I a child stolen away, raised by the fae? Did they take me from the life I should have had?), “have we come all this way to be foiled for want of a shovel?”
“Oh fuck,” Trucy says.
“Hey!” Ema barks, her sharp rebuke the manifestation of that urge Apollo feels to scold her for that. “Language, young missy!” She folds her arms across her chest, her glare a fond one. “Where did you learn that?”
“My daddy’s a card shark,” Trucy says, countering Ema with a smug grin of her own.
“I thought he was a piano player,” Clay says.
“Only because you’ve never heard him play,” Trucy replies. “Easy mistake to make.”
“Considering it was all magic that hid the map,” Ema says, with nary a pause to acclimate everyone to the idea of throwing the conversation back past that latest sharp turn, “wouldn’t it be magic to hide it again, logically speaking?”
“Where’s the logic here?” Clay asks. Ema snaps a twig off a bush and flicks it at him. “And I mean, if it’s just covered up with some illusion, couldn’t anyone stumble into it?”
“Maybe it takes the map, too,” Apollo says. “Or maybe only a Gramarye can unveil it.”
He steps up onto a tree stump, like the extra five inches can grant him some kind of special insight or a better view in the forest of brown. Then he is falling, the wood rot giving way beneath his foot, a sharp jolt running up his leg from the twist of his foot. “Shit!”
Trucy winces. “Ouch. Poor Polly. I—”
“Apollo,” Ema says, very seriously, but somewhat muffled by her hand over her mouth. “Move. Move right now.”
“What?” He sits up, dislodging his foot from the stump, and looks about himself. The forest floor of dead leaves has cleared, as though by a strong, concentrated wind, revealing browned dead grass encased by a perfect circle of blue flowers. “Oh. Oh shit.”
Without an ounce of grace, still on his hands and knees, he scrambles and rolls his way out of the faery ring. “So according to the map,” Trucy says, and above his head Apollo hears the flutter of the paper, “I think we found it.”
“Only a Gramarye, huh,” Clay says dryly.
“That was only supposition!”
“So who’s gonna stick their hand in a rotten tree stump?” Ema asks, producing a flashlight from her bag and shining the beam down into it. “I volunteer Trucy, because she’s wearing gloves, and is our Gramarye.”
Trucy kicks up the leaves on her approach, searching for hints of another ring around the stump, more than just Apollo’s that sits adjacent to it. “If I get bit by a squirrel and get rabies and die, it’s your fault,” she says, kneeling down next to the stump and brushing her hair back to peer down into it.
“Statistically, your chance of getting rabies from a squirrel is negligible,” Ema says. “That shouldn’t be your worry.”
“What should I worry about, then?” Trucy asks. “Can you bring the light a little closer?”
“Bats, racoons, foxes, feral cats and dogs, and right now, probably non-rabies Fair Folk curses, since we’re fucking around by a ring.”
“I’m still concerned about bears,” Clay says.
“I’m not,” Ema says. “I’ve already got my plan, which is to trip you into its path.”
“General ‘you’, or me, specifically?”
“You specifically. Nothing personal, though. I just know Trucy and Apollo better than you.”
“This is way heavier than I thought,” Trucy says, falling off-balance and dropping something dark and rectangular. “Oof! Okay. Okay. We got it!” She lifts it up onto her knees, a thick book with a black cover and a character emblazoned in flowing purple script on it. “I knew I remembered this.” Her voice is quieter as she opens the book and flips through the rough-edged pages. “Grandpappy’s grimoire.” She closes the cover again, reverently, and keeps it balanced on her legs as she turns back to the stump. “Light again, please. I thought I saw something else.” Trucy has her head nearly in the hole, which can’t help her with her light situation, and she sits back and plunges her hand in again. “Yep! This is a – a funny-looking magatama?”
She holds it up, the blue stone sparkling in the flashlight beam, but also seemingly with its own interior glow, and Apollo gasps.
Three sets of eyes turn to him.
“That’s a mitamah,” he says, and to his own ears he sounds like he’s choking, but he feels like he’s choking too, and maybe the others don’t notice but he doubts it. “That’s someone’s soul.”
Trucy drops it into the leaves.
“What?” Clay looks suspicious – Trucy looks horrified. “How do you know?”
(“There’s no reason to give away your soul,” Dhurke told them, sternly, the sternest he ever got. “Never.” And then they tried to argue, to come up with reasons, because of course they did, and he hugged them both close. “You’ll make great lawyers someday, always looking for reasons and other ways, but this one – promise me. Nahyuta. Apollo.” He prodded each of them in the chest. “Don’t let someone else get their hands on your soul.”)
“The tail of it is different.” Apollo picks it up, brushing off the dirt and leaf particles that cling to it, and points to the longer, squiggling protrusion that extends from the loop. It doesn’t fully connect like a magatama, either, more like a hook than a circle.
It feels warm in his hand, humming through his fingers and up into his ears. It reminds him of the office – familiar, but disturbing, because there is no reason that it should feel so familiar and comforting.
“Could it be your grandfather’s?” Ema asks.
“Wouldn’t that mean he’s still alive?” Clay asks. “Is that possible?”
“It couldn’t be,” Apollo says. If he stares at the mitamah he thinks he can see flecks of gold within the blue, like stars on a constellation chart. “The Fair Folk don’t have souls like we do. They can’t sell them or manifest them like this.”
“Is that why they want human souls?” Ema asks.
“How do you know?” Clay repeats.
Apollo’s heart has stoppered up his throat.
“It makes them stronger,” Trucy says softly. “When they buy names, or souls, it makes their magic stronger. But this – this can’t be that.” She hugs the grimoire up to her chest. “It can’t just be that.”
“Should we just… put it back?” Ema asks. “Someone’s probably looking for it, right?”
“It’s been seven years and no one has come before us,” Apollo says. The humming isn’t as steady now, seems more like a song, and familiar, damned familiar. “No, we can’t just leave her here.”
In the silence, even the song seems to stop. “What?” Apollo asks. Their three sets of eyes are on him again, even more piercing, Trucy’s wide and Clay’s narrowed and Ema’s narrowing too.
“‘Her’?” Ema repeats. “Why ‘her’?”
“I…” Apollo swallows his heart. “I don’t know, but I… I know?”
“I don’t think you should be holding that in your bare hands,” Clay says.
But the alternative seems to be dropping her in the dirt again, and Apollo’s fingers curl tighter around the stone. He can’t do that, either. Trucy unties her scarf from around her neck and silently passes it to him, letting him wrap the stone up in the red fabric and then cradle it close again. The song thrumming in his ears ceases. “I guess we should take it to Mr Wright and ask him if he knows what to do,” Ema says. “He’ll know what to do with it. Her?”
Trucy’s gaze is unfocused, her head slowly drifting away from the horizon back toward the stump. “Trucy?” Apollo asks. “Are you okay?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” she says. “Just buy up someone’s soul all for himself. He wouldn’t. There had to be some other reason. It wasn’t just power, there had to be a good reason.”
(“There’s no reason,” Dhurke said. “Never.”)
“He gave me magic, as a gift,” Trucy says. “He was a good man.” She looks up at Apollo, blinking her blue eyes furiously. “Wasn’t he?”
-
It takes them another forty-five minutes to stumble out of the woods and find Clay’s car again. Ema makes everyone nervous talking about the odds of them stumbling across a body decomposing in the undergrowth – “I have zero desire to ever get caught up in one of your murder investigations,” Clay says, picking up a branch from the bushes and brandishing it like a baseball bat – and bears. The two of them are at least doing a good job of filling the silence left by Trucy, uncomfortably quiet, walking in a trace. Apollo tugs her by the arm out of the way of trees. He could put the mitamah in his pocket but hasn’t, has kept it held close to his chest.
The story that Phoenix spun of the Gramaryes is gnawing at him. A woman, on the bad end of a deal with Magnifi – Apollo doesn’t want to think about the possibility.
(Trucy must be thinking about the possibility, mustn’t she?)
She crawls into the back seat of the car, depositing the grimoire in the middle, and Ema makes a mad dash for the front seat, leaving Apollo to sit on the other side of the grimoire, separated by it from Trucy. The only time she speaks is to call Phoenix and ask him if he is at the office – he is, because she directs Clay to go back to the office.
It is a long, quiet ride home, some subdued conversation between Ema and Clay about their fields of science rising over the country music still on the radio. Trucy taps Apollo’s hand and beckons him to hand her the mitamah. She takes off one of her gloves and weighs it in her hand with an ever-deepening frown until she wraps it back up and passes it back to Apollo.
Ema shouts “Yellow car!” and hits Clay on the shoulder. He hits her back and tells her that she needs to specify no punch-backs next time.
-
Phoenix is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch with two notebooks and a stack of papers spread out in front of him, the coffee table shoved to the side, a pencil in his mouth and another tucked behind his ear, when they stagger into the office. Apollo is mediating an argument about the merits of Eldoon’s for a late lunch – Ema does not want to brave it, while Clay wants nothing more than to do so. Phoenix does not look up.
“Hey, Daddy,” Trucy says wearily.
His head snaps up, dislodging the pencil behind his ear. “What’s wrong?”
“You always complain about your back hurting, and now look what you’re doing.” Trucy’s words sound forced through a smile. Phoenix’s frown deepens. He watches Trucy walk past him to deposit the grimoire on his desk.
“We went looking into the envelope you gave her the other day,” Apollo says. “The real last page.”
Phoenix doesn’t look back from Trucy right away. “A full expedition team, huh?” he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks over Ema and Clay. “Who’s this?”
“Er, oh, yeah. I’m Clay Terran. Apollo’s roommate.” Clay points with his thumb at Apollo, even though they all know there is only one Apollo that they know. “You’re Mr Wright, yeah?” He doesn’t do a good job of feigning enthusiasm.
“I know that look,” Phoenix says, standing with a wince and an audible crack of some of his joints. “That’s the ‘I’ve heard about you and it’s nothing good’ look.” He lets Clay splutter for a full two seconds before he grins crookedly and adds, “That’s fair.” Almost immediately, his expression flattens out to something stern and almost entirely foreign. “Trucy,” he calls. “What’s wrong?”
“We found my grandfather’s grimoire,” she says, sitting on the desk and holding it up, only for it to slip from her hands and crash to the floor. “And Polly has the other thing that was with it.”
Apollo unwraps the mitamah.
Has he ever seen Phoenix surprised? The man spent seven years an unbeaten poker player, and this past half-year absolutely inscrutable to Apollo’s eyes. There is nothing controlled in his reaction; his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, turning blue immediately and staying blue, horror apparent in how they linger on the mitamah. “Oh,” he breathes. “That is – yeah.”
He reaches forward with trembling hands and scoops up the scarf spread across Apollo’s hands. He holds it cradled close, too, his free hand cupped beneath the one holding it, prepared to catch the stone should it slip, but still not having touched it with bare skin. “So,” he says. “The ‘source’ of Magnifi’s magic – that grimoire, and this soul.”
“But,” Trucy says, “that…” She stops. She chews on the inside of her cheek. Mr Hat, the wisp, is visible, bobbing frenetically around her shoulders. “It’s…” Her shoulders slump. “Do you know what to do with that, Daddy? Is there a way to know what person a soul belongs to?”
“Not from looking only at the mitamah,” Phoenix answers. His eyes still hollow blue when he turns them back to Trucy. “I am not particularly familiar with mitamahs, honestly, but I’ll look into it and see what I can do to get it back to her.” He takes the stone in one hand and offers Trucy her scarf back. “If the fae who has possession of a soul is still alive, they can just give it back – not that many are willing to, mind – but since he’s dead – well.” He shakes his head. “Thank you, though. For helping Trucy, and bringing this back.”
It’s a firm end to the conversation, not that Apollo knows what more to ask about a soul. Ema, though, is frowning, her arms crossed, her mouth twisting like she is puzzling out something. “We were gonna go get noodles at Eldoon’s,” Apollo says. “If – if you wanted to come, Trucy.”
“Oh!” She looks surprised, like she hadn’t expected to be addressed. “Um.” Her heels bounce against the desk. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”
Her hands, curled around the edge of the desk, shine red. Apollo doesn’t even need that to know she’s lying.
-
“We all agree she’s not okay, right?” Clay asks.
They were silent for a block down from the office, Ema not even complaining about losing the Eldoon’s battle. (Apollo was prepared to tell her that she didn’t have to come, but she had attached herself to them without a cursory protest.)
“Definitely not,” Ema says. “I guess she doesn’t want to believe that her grandfather was the double-dealing type of Folk – which, I’ve read the case file on his death, I’d believe that about him in a hot second. There’s nothing worse than a blackmailer like that. Also.” She plants herself firmly in the sidewalk. Apollo and Clay both bump into her. “None of us referred to the mitamah as ‘she’ or ‘her’, right? Like you were, Apollo.”
“None of us but Trucy even talked about it,” Apollo says. Clay nods. “Why?”
“Because Mr Wright did.” Ema’s forehead creases. “He said he would ‘get it back to her’. He wasn’t even touching it, was he?” Apollo shrugs. Ema shrugs too. “He knows something. More than he said.”
“He always does,” Apollo says.
They reach Eldoon’s, and Ema says that it’s weird to see the stand without a corpse attached. The look that Clay gives her makes her and Apollo both laugh. Once they have their noodles, they walk another few blocks to People Park and find a bench not far from where the noodle-stand crime scene once stood. Apollo has learned to be grateful for the mouthfuls of broth that taste of so much salt to sting. It feels a little more like safety, like salt across a doorway.
He starts to say what he’s thinking, that Trucy might be worried that the mitamah is her mother’s, or at least he is, but the words die on his tongue, shriveled by the salt. He doesn’t feel right to tell Clay and Ema about Trucy’s mother’s death, when he has no idea if Trucy knows or not. Phoenix has made him the guardian of family secrets that aren’t his and something about that feels wrong. Maybe necessary in some way, to understand the case, to understand what happened with Kristoph, but still wrong.
Instead, he helps Ema explain to Clay her earlier comments about Magnifi and blackmail. You can’t refuse, and we both know the reason why – Trucy can’t know he did that. She seemed to idolize him. What a hard way to fall.
He’ll text her tomorrow, Apollo decides. Check in, see how she’s doing.
(There’s probably someone else he should check in with, too, the events of this week all considered.)
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runephoenix6769 · 7 years ago
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Willow Schnee theory
Ok, this is something that I havent seen discussed much, if at all and I really think it needs to be addressed. 
Willow Schnee. 
We now know, due to the very cute Freezerburn heart to heart..  that she is a heart broken shell of a woman, who has, like her children, suffered at the hands of Jacques.  Alcohol became her refuge and her daughters have suffered for it. 
But lets dial that all back for a sec. 
In ‘Lessons Learned’ , Winter tells Weiss, 
“We Schnee’s are unique. Unlike many, our Semblance is hereditary.”
( It has been suggested by some members of the FNDM that due to Whitley’s slightly jealous over tones towards Weiss and hatred of Winter... Plus his view’s of Huntsman as barbarians. that maybe he doesn't have this ability. Leading some people to suggest that maybe the semblance only passes down the female line...... The jury is out on this.. Guess we’ll have to wait for RT to confirm.. Any way, I digress)
So if the Semblance is hereditary that means that Willow has this ability too, making her story all the more upsetting. 
No doubt she learned how to use it, and no doubt she was rather skilled, Im thinking she taught her eldest daughter before the confirmation of Jacques motivations crushed her... 
This revelation knocked the fight right out of her.
Why didn't she rage? Why didn't she fight? Why didn't she get angry? 
We’ve met the Schnee women and jesus fxxing christ when they set their mind to something they are formidable. The Schnee women have an unbridled temper  under a very frosty veneer.  
Why didn't she stand for her children and tell Jacques to knock it the fuck off?
She’s had training, shes got a kick ass semblance. She could just swat him to one side, ‘swish, flick. splat!. 
But think about it. 
A care free young woman, Beautiful, educated, From one of the wealthiest families in the whole of Remnant, she’s royalty.  Im seeing her wild and happy, her Father’s pride and joy/ She has many suitors, but one in-particular is slightly older, dashing , charming. speaks to her in a way that no one else ever has. He shows her things she never seen. He is intelligent, understands her Father’s business. The pressure of being the heir to the Schnee Dust Company is a heavy burden, a company she shall one day run, she’s slightly insecure that she wont be able to live up to her father’s legacy. but this man assures her, she shall. besides, if they get married, he will be there to help her. 
Her Father likes him, her mother does not, her grandmother says Willow could trust a Vacuoan Faunus vagabond more than she can trust him. Willow brushes it off as snobbery. 
He suggests marriage. Her Mother disapproves.. Her Father is wary..She assures him, this is the man she loves, she wants no other... 
How can a Father deny his only child? 
He reluctantly agrees....  Assurances are made, he agrees to give up his name. 
The first few years are blissful, they are learning the ropes at her Fathers side. Her husband is eager to start a family... Willow falls pregnant... Her husband is so tender, caring. Suggests she takes it easy, theres no need for her to come to the office, he’ll deal with everything..
 Dont worry or stress out the baby. 
She gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, keeping the W tradition, she names her Winter..  Her husband lavishes gifts on his daughter but the affection isnt quite there. He explains its the office and hes tired. Her grandparents dote on her.. Catering to Winters every whim..
As the years pass, she loses her mother.. Her father is over come with grief, he isnt as strong as he used to be... Her  husband graciously offers to step up to the plate, carry the load... In her stead, of course...  Just whilst her Father gets back on his feet... 
He never does.. 
The only light in his life is Winter, who he begins to train , mock wooden swords... Chasing her through the cavernous halls.. Her delighted squeals of joy echoing through the house...  Willow trains her a bit more seriously, encouraging ballet, gymnastics, and horse riding to help with her foot work and balance.. at her husbands request 
Her Father gently chides her, “Allow her to be a child”
Willow takes to caring for him and he is over joyed when he hears shes expecting a second child. 
Whilst her movement is limited, she begins to teach Winter the fundamentals of glyph usage and explains the Schnee semblance
She is so grateful to her husband, for being such a good man, understanding that her Father needs her, for taking care of the business. 
Everyone is over joyed at the arrival of Weiss, a middle name belonging to your mother. She is small and frail but alert. This time, he is much more receptive, he is much more affectionate with the new arrival
And business is booming. She hears silly rumours on the social circuit but dismisses them as idle gossip among elitist assholes. The upper echelons of society had never quite accepted him as one of their own. Jealousy at his success when other company's were slipping. 
Her Father’s mind begins to deteriorate until he is the shadow of a man. 
When he passes, Willow is at a loss..... 
She notices small differences. Her husbands long hours at the office, hes cold, distant.. distracted. He rarely sees his daughters, he loses his temper easily.. 
The first time winter messes up a recital, he snaps, Winter cries.. He apologies n claims its stress.. 
He continues to favour little Weiss over her sister, instead he begins, pushing Winter in all her training, her academics.. Willow confronts him... 
He says he wants what is best for her... that maybe its her Mother who isnt good enough to train her.. He hires Winter the best sword master in the land n demands progress reports. 
What has happened to the man she loved, what has she done wrong, maybe another baby might bring them closer... 
When Whitley is born, her husband is ecstatic.... A son! A son he spoils and lavishes with praise.. 
He almost immediately forgets Weiss..
 Willow can see the seething sibling rivalry brewing, vying for his attention,  the jealousy. The competitiveness between the girls. Which her husband encourages, claiming it is healthy for them. 
They are Schnee’s after all with an image an image to up hold. 
They should be the best at everything they do. 
The rumours about the company become too dark to ignore, the collapsed mines, the trapped faunus.. The threat of the White Fang.. 
Suddenly your home is your prison.. Security ramped up... She always had security but not like this, Board Members go missing.. Family and friends murdered. 
Her husband treats you with barely concealed contempt , She asks if the marriage is over.. He sneers
She decides something needs to be done.. She sweeps into the head quarters.. She goes through the files... She is disgusted.. 
Who is this man and what has he done to her husband
She brings it up at the dinner table, she wants the company to reverse its policies.
He laughs at her.
Willow, “I am the head of the SDC.”
He informs her that she is only a figure head... The company is his.. Sure she can leave with her money n the schnee family homes, jet property n what ever, but the company is his.. He threatens to write the children out of company.. 
She asks him... “ Did you ever love me?”
He looks at her with a stare as cold as an Atleasian winter..
“No. I only married you for the company”
In that moment she realises that she has been played.. the longest con.. Her mother and grand mother were right... 
It all begins to dawn on her..
Willow no longer has anyone to turn to... Any board member she was close to has conveniently disappeared or died. 
she meant nothing.... It was all an elaborate charade.
She was a means to an end.
He is a repulsive monster!!
And now her children’s futures are at stake.. 
Her children... HIS children.. 
Winter looks stricken. Weiss bottom lip is trembling.. 
The candles on her birthday cake flicker and die
Willow has never noticed how much of him is in them... The set to Winter’s shoulders. The way Weiss scowls at a particularly difficult problem.... 
And Whitley....... So much like his Father.. 
Feel free to comment, or add to.. or share.. Or if you think I’m way off base, let me know... 
Im genuinely intrigued by Willow Schnee and her kids.. The dynamic.. 
Im up for listening to anyone else’s theories or if anyone else has any ideas. 
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glowstickhaloboy · 7 years ago
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smoothie klance au?? i guess
you would not guess how many half-written AUs i have in my drafts that become WAY TOO LONG for me to ever consider publishing in a text post. yes this is a short one.
keith makes smoothies for a living. it isnt a big deal until it is.
one night, this dude comes in. who cares about build-up, we all know its lance, and he looks frazzled. he sits at the counter and orders the fruitiest smoothie on the menu. keith makes it and doesnt think much of it, except to note that something about this kid is just... weird?
1: hes coming in alone, which people their age usually dont. 2: hes dressed pretty nicely. 3: hes just sitting there??? drinking a smoothie??? not even scrolling on his phone or anything, just looking around and slurping. okay weirdo. 4: he seems off. keith does not use the word “aura” on a regular basis but lance has an aura. (which does not make sense to keith, who barely understands his own emotions, let alone someone else’s.)
lance thanks keith, and leaves like thirty minutes later. hes certainly not the weirdest customer keith has ever served, but for some reason that random, singular dude sticks out in his mind.
but the shifts come and go, and gradually keith forgets about lance.
until he comes back in again.
its a lot like it was before. lance is dressed nicely, seeming miffed about something, or not miffed, exactly, but hes clearly not happy, and this time he orders a peanut butter and chocolate smoothie, and hes just as quiet as before, only this time hes rapidly tapping away on his phone instead of memorizing the inside of the restaurant, and keith is almost glad because it means he gets to sneak glances at this guy more casually??? like, hes had weird people in here before, and lance definitely isnt the weirdest, but enigma customers are intriguing to keith and he takes what he can get
the third time, its raining. lance is drenched, droplets running down the side of his face and under the collar of his (white, button-up) shirt. he smiles sheepishly at keith from across the room and sits at the counter, nearly having tripped on the way over because he didnt bother to wipe his shoes on the interior mat and created on the floor as he crossed the room.
he orders a strawberry and banana smoothie. keith has been preparing for this. he attempts small talk.
“nasty weather,” he says.
lance nods. “yep.”
god, that was horrible. 
keith hands lance his smoothie, his change, and hides at the far end of the counter. lance alternates between staring at his phone and watching the rain hit the windows and slide down the glass. sometimes, he sighs.
the fourth time, its the middle of the day. keith is just getting off his shift, but he imagines himself whipping around and demanding to stay later just so he can serve this random kid he knows nothing about???? his eyes are trained on lance as he walks out the door. he thinks lance glances at him. for the first time, keith wonders if lance comes in when keith is not there.
months pass, and lance comes in on the regular. its clear now that when he comes in, he is not happy. in fact, he seems to be getting less and less happy, judging by the fact that he starts to order mega-sized blueberry blitzes.
and then lance disappears
and keith isnt obsessed with the guy, he doesnt, like, notice except for the fact that he totally does. where the fuck did lance go???
but, you know, whatever. a customer is a customer. keith thinks about him sometimes, but lets it go for the most part.
until he doesnt.
its four more months before lance comes in again. leaves have fallen off the trees and scarves recently appeared in the street overnight. and now, all of a sudden, in an autumn sunset, lance stumbles through the door and throws himself into the nearest chair. keith can hardly believe his eyes.
“what can i get you?” he asks lance, and he thinks lance understands that keith recognizes him. still, lance takes a moment to answer, like he has to pick every part of himself off the ground first. he drags a hand down his face. looks up at the menu. looks down at his hands.
“fuckin... i dont know, man. you ever experiment with ingredients and stuff? like, on your break, you make yourself a smoothie thats not on the menu?”
keith cannot say that he has. “you want something thats not on the menu?”
“yeah...” says lance. “something with chocolate, though. i dont care how much it costs.”
its completely out of place for keith to ask why lance looks like utter shit. hes a smoothie maker, not a bartender. also, he still doesnt even know lances name. and yet.
“what am i trying to fix with this smoothie?” he asks. “rough day? heartache?”
“bingo!” says lance, a bite in his words. he laughs like he wants to die. “dont skimp on the chocolate, man, please.”
keith nods and tries to remember things that lance has ordered in the past (its never been the same thing twice) so he can use that to guess what lance would like. chocolate? what went well with chocolate??? strawberries--people dipped strawberries in those chocolate fountains. and bananas went well with strawberries. strawberry-banana with chocolate. it might be disastrous, might be passable. keith improvises a little on the portioning, delivers the finished product to lance with a pained face.
“i have no idea how this will taste.”
lance shrugs, pays the man, and sticks a straw in it. though keith has other customers, he waits for a reply. lance doesnt give him one. his face is stubbornly unreadable. but, he doesnt choke it back up, so keith doesnt make him anything else. he, regrettably, must now face the other distractions customers.
hes never focused less on what he was making. his goal is to get the order and send it out the door. in the meantime, lance sits at the counter, sucks down his smoothie, and stares at the back wall of the room as though he has recently been hollowed out. keith wonders just what the hell has been going on in this dudes life the past three months.
finally, the line empties out. keith scoots back to lance’s seat. “can i get you anything else?”
lance sets down his 3/4 finished glass (keith has to act fast) and shakes his head.
“we have cookies,” keith offers.
lance snorts into his shoulder. “man, how pathetic do i look? pity eyes and cookie offers and free conversation.”
keith drops all pretense. “what happened?”
lance hangs his head, his shoulders slumping. “i was really hoping that i wouldnt be coming back to this goddamn place for a long time.”
keith doesnt know what to say to that. he knows that it isnt about the smoothies, but he doesnt want to pry directly into lance’s life, so he says, “the smoothies arent that bad.”
“no. the smoothies are great. perfect pick me up. it just sucks that im back to needing pick me ups.” he takes a long sip of schroedinger’s disaster-passable smoothie, and instead of saying anything, keith remains silent, an invitation for lance to explain more. “i used to come in here all the time a couple months back."
“i remember,” says keith, unprompted, because he feels like lance will respond well to honesty right now.
lance raises his eyebrows but doesnt comment. “okay. well, its super lame, and youre going to think im a total loser considering you remember me, but its sort of a personal tradition for me to come in here... after i have a bad date. but i met this dude and we hit it off and we’ve been a thing for almost four months now. and then today...” he makes a soft, sad noise as his hand plummets and crashes on the counter. “he broke up with me.” keith frowns.
“that sucks.”
“yeah,” says lance. “it really, really does. so fuck guys and girls and dating in general for a while. lancey lance is going to take care of himself from now on.”
keith blinks in surprise. lancey lance. “your name is lance?” he asks.
“since day one.”
keith offers what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “keith.”
“well, keith,” says lance, standing, “keep up the good work.”
he slides a five onto the table and heads for the door. keith frowns down at it for a moment. as lance leaves, he calls over his shoulder, “its a tip!”
after that, keith doesnt see lance for a while, but now, knowing why, thats a satisfying thing.
but also, knowing that lance is into dudes and actively looking for love is a worrying thing. keith would have to be blind not to see how attractive lance is, and after their brief but insightful conversation, lance’s happiness is on keith’s wish list. lately, a particular train of thought has been running repeatedly though keith’s head: lance wants someone who is not a jackass; i am not a jackass.
but it would be totally weird for keith to ask lance out. besides, lance isnt coming into the restaurant anymore. keith physically cant ask him on a date. perhaps that is for the best.
and then, one saturday afternoon, the planets align. keith has had a confident morning, business has been steady all day, and he rolled out of bed looking good. lance walks in. contrary to keith’s power mood, lance looks like hes been recently hit by a bus and scraped off the pavement. he makes eye contact with keith on the doormat and gives a rueful smile. keith smiles sympathetically in return.
“maybe im just destined to die alone,” lance says, halfway through his coconut-key-lime whatever. “or i’ll find true love when im like thirty. which would be a bummer. im cute now.”
keith grins. hes leaning nonchalantly on the counter, a cleaning rag tossed over his shoulder. “the world is full of idiots,” he says consolingly.
lance’s eyes bug out. “im one of them!” he protests. “clearly! what am i doing wrong? keith? buddy? my man??? today, my date walked out in the middle of the movie. it wasnt even a bad movie! i have no idea what i did, but clearly she just had enough. i tried texting her, but my messages wouldnt deliver. i think she blocked me.”
“what movie did you take her to see?”
“die a virgin 3.”
“i think i might see the problem.”
“its a tasteful movie!” lance protests. “the whole franchise gets a bad rap because of one bad scene in the first movie, but this one is great! it has keaton lovinsten in it. who doesnt like keaton lovinsten? i was practically drooling over him from the first-- oh. oh. i think i know what might have turned her off.”
keith snorts. “i certainly wouldnt like it if i went out with a dude and he started eye-fucking someone else.”
casually slip into the conversation that you like dudes. good one, keith!
“i wasnt-!” lance turns beet red. “it was a movie! hes a celebrity! and there is no way it was that bad.”
“she clearly thought it was.”
lance’s head falls onto the table. “im hopeless,” he says, but he seems to feel better about saying it now. something in keiths chest settles. he thinks about the alignment of the planets and decides that he cant do this yet. hes going to let the universe keep on rotating, and he’ll catch his opportunity the next time. for some reason, he wants to take this slowly.
so lance continues to make keith’s workplace his lovelorn HQ. keith continues to give him sympathetic pats on the back, one time even literally, and eventually he feels comfortable referencing lance in conversations with others as “my friend lance...”
meanwhile, lance goes on date after date with countless people who are not keith. the jealousy is starting to eat at keith, but he can endure it because he only ever sees lance on the tail end of these tragic romantic encounters, when all lance wants to do is complain about their big noses and loud chewing. still, keith starts to feel like hes playing with fire. on any random day, lance could find someone who makes him very happy, and he would suddenly disappear for good.
on a snowy thursday, lance enters the restaurant with a shiver. he pulls off his mittens and waves to keith, who smiles and waves back over the pigtails of a little girl. when its lance’s turn to order, he appears pleasant, if worn down. he orders extra whipped cream.
“what went wrong?” keith asks good-naturedly, lounging an elbow on the counter.
lance hesitates a moment before answering. he unwraps his whole straw, sticks it carefully in his smoothie, and drinks, before saying, “actually... nothing. i mean, not nothing, but... it wasn’t a bad date this time, it was just, i dont know, weird.”
keith prickles. he doesnt like the idea of lance having a date that wasnt overtly bad. “what made it weird?”
“what was weird was that it was good, but it was with someone bad. well, not bad. hes not bad, he was never bad, but, like, he kind of broke my heart, so...”
keith flashes back to the night lance told him about his bad-date-tradition. he frowns. “your ex?”
lance stirs his smoothie pensively. “yeah. he apologized for a lot of stuff and said hes changed, and, like, i dont know what to do with that. i thought i moved on, but considering im still not seeing anyone, maybe its a good idea to try again. i mean, if its what he wants, and its what i want, then what could go wrong? its not like he was a dick, he was always nice to me when we were together...”
lance’s voice fades out. keith is trying to think of all the ways he can coolly scream THAT IS THE WORST IDEA without sounding suspicious or biased. its a damn good thing that lance is staring into his smoothie instead of at keiths face, because keith is not keeping it together. he had taken too much of his sweet time, and now lance was heading back into a relationship, and keith had to decide if he was going to try to break that up, or watch lance fall in love again.
“how do you know hes changed?” keith asks carefully. “how do you know the same thing wont happen again?”
lance eyes keith for a moment instead of replying. then, he goes back to stirring his drink. “he seemed different. it felt like he had changed. he looked good...”
“you look good,” says keith. lance’s eyes flash up to him, and keith feels his face burn, his mind shouting, idiot! idiot! idiot! “i mean! i mean that you have changed, too, so you shouldnt be hasty about this decision. you should... look at all of your options.”
“do i even have other options at this point? my other option is stay lonely and unhappy.”
“or.” keith licks his suddenly dry lips. “you could try going on a date with me.”
silence rings loudly in his ears. he cant look at lance. he cant believe he just did that. he just said it, just like that, just put it out there for the world to hear. for lance to hear.
lance asks, “do you mean that?”
keith finally looks at him, and takes it as a very good sign that instead of revulsion or discomfort, he sees surprise. surprise and something happy. it gives him the courage to smile.
“yeah,” he says. “i mean it. you could finally see me out of this stupid apron. i mean! you could see me in my normal clothes.”
lance coughs hard into his hand, and keith’s soul withers with the knowledge that they are both currently thinking about keith naked.
lance recovers, albeit with a heavy blush on his face. “i’d like that,” he says. “but, um, just so you know, if it goes badly and you decide you hate me, im buying a blender and making my own smoothies after that.”
“that’s fair, but i dont think it will go badly,” says keith. “let me give you my number.” he pulls a napkin from the dispenser and scribbles on it with a pen, slides the napkin over to lance. when did it get so hot in here?
“thanks,” says lance, folding it and putting it in the pocket of his sweatshirt.
neither of them know what to talk about now.
“um, when are you free?” keith offers. “theres a new exhibit at the gallery that my old art teacher contributed to. its space themed, i think. we could go see it.”
lance nods. “that sounds fun. oh man, this is so awkward. im so sorry. im just still trying to register the fact that you actually asked me out. i did not think that was ever going to happen.”
keith cant help but think, me either. shiro is going to be so proud of him.
and, in a moment of bravery, he decides that he likes to see lance so bashful and awkward. he cant help but press his advantage. keith sticks out a hip, leans forward on the counter, and says, “was i too subtle before?”
but it seems like keith accidentally started speaking a language that lance understood. immediately, lance turns on the charm, a smile stretching over white teeth. keith is only shocked for a moment, and he doesnt let it show. lance says, “a little. thats okay. i like shy boys.”
keith wills himself not to get flustered. “how do you feel about motorcycles?”
“motorcycles?” lance repeats, genuinely interested.
“yeah,” says keith, still smiling. “i could teach you how to ride.”
lance gags a little bit on his straw. keith laughs and leaves him sputtering to tend to a pair of kids who just came in. by the time hes finished making their drinks, lance has disappeared, and in his place is a little napkin with a smiling face and the line: am i your bike? because its easy for you to get my motor running.
keith swipes it out of public sight, grinning, and stuffs it in his pocket.
the date does not go badly. it goes very, very well. keith shows up on his motorcycle, and lance is both impressed and excited to ride it. he hugs keith tight around the middle, whooping loudly, and when they pull into a parking spot, he stumbles off the seat like a champion, drunk on adrenaline, eyes shining. keiths heart sprints. they check out the exhibit and lance amuses keith by making ritzy, intellectual comments such as, “the artist has a certain je ne sais quoi, a, how do you say, need to fuck the canvas” that have keith choking back laughter in an effort to remain respectful. it goes so well that keith has the courage to take lance’s hand halfway through the exhibit, to which lance looks down and says, “gay.” afterwards, even though they didnt plan to, they go out to eat at a diner and split a large order of fries. lance has a unique, deeply personal drink (1/3 mountain dew 1/3 cherry coke 1/3 pepsi with a shot of dr pepper) which he graciously allows keith to try. keith periodically catches himself imagining scenarios wherein he and lance show up on each others doorstep for surprise dates or lounge together half-asleep in pajama pants, lance playing video games while keith watches vine compilations on youtube. afterward, because neither of them want to go home, keith takes lance for a spin on the motorcycle just to feel lance hold onto him, and they end up parking outside a place that is very familiar to them both.
“what are we doing here?” lance asks. he frowns at a large milkshake painted on the window. inside is the counter he’s has spent much of the last six months moping at.
keith checks over his shoulder. “i thought it would be rude to ask if you were coming here after, but if you wanted to, i figured it would be polite to drop you off.”
lance shoves keith in the side, laughing. “shut up, you bastard. you damn well know that this was a good date. take me home.”
keith obediently revs his motorcycle, and they take off together. over the roar of the bike and the wind, keith does not hear lance say, “the best date.”
they arrive back at lance’s house. lance is still awkward clambering off the bike, but its better this time. keith boots down the kickstand, and when he turns back up, lance is right there.
“the best date,” lance says, knowing full well that keith is going to hear him this time. he pulls off keith’s helmet, steps close, and keith only has a flash of realization for whats about to happen before lance kisses him.
“the best date,” keith agrees, awestruck.
“i’ll text you,” says lance.
“can’t wait,” says keith.
lance’s hands are still fisted in keiths jacket. “i think this is the part where you drive away.”
“or it’s the part where i ask if i can see you again. are you free this weekend?”
“if im not, i’ll move plans. count on it.” lance lets his hands fall. “you look good out of the apron, by the way.” he hands keith his helmet. “safety first. dont ruin your face, or i might not go out with you again.”
keith rolls his eyes. “its been a privilege.” he wants to kiss lance again. “see you friday.”
he starts his motorcycle, checks over his shoulder, and kicks off onto the road, leaving lance watching after him. he cant believe its only wednesday.
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