#I feel like I have to do actual book research just to comprehend what’s being said

[plantsrrfriends]

Proud and Terrified

Tighnari x gn!Reader

Synopsis; Tighnari tends to neglect parts of his life due to how they differ from humans that don't have animal blood in their veins. But it eventually bites him back.

Themes; fluff, cute researchers, idk man, it's pre-relationship

Approximately 86% of the time, Tighnari was content and proud to be a fennec fox hybrid. 

It was something he'd lived with his entire life, so he found it more fruitful to accept his nature rather than be off set by the fascination of others. Mortals were curious creatures; it made sense that they'd be intrigued by him. Even if he disliked the ogling gazes and lingering eyes.

But there was that 14% where he felt a begrudging distaste towards his own instincts and desires. Where the fennec fox piece of him overtook what typical humans and mortals would do.

Such as at the current moment, he couldn't even stand being in the same room as them.

The sight of their smile, each word that danced off their tongue, and even the simple whiff of their soap he'd catch drove him mad. Not in the way that most assumed - it wasn't some uncontrollable hunger or whatever those romance readers always asked of him. It wasn't a sudden possessiveness or animalistic instinct- ...well, at least not to the same degree they assumed it to be.

No, because he didn't have a partner. Emotions such as that were directed towards an established partner that'd he chosen for life, and he had yet to meet someone of such caliber. Tighnari had yet to pursue someone that way. Unfortunately, the source of his ears and tail had been trying to make the decision for him.

It was infuriating. A disruption to his work and a hassle that he didn't feel like dealing with. It was annoying how his tail involuntarily flicked when they turned and called his name. It was causing issues how he was so easily distracted as soon as they wandered into a room, and his train of thought was thoroughly derailed for the next hour or so that they existed in that space. They could be doing something as simple as reading and his hazel eyes would be continuously flicking from his paper and up toward them. He was never actually reading. None of the words on his paper were comprehended anymore and his own pulse became apparent in his ears.

It was annoying. And frankly, he didn't think he could even handle being around them when he had work to be done. But he also felt he'd fall into despair if he said anything to them about it. Because if they denied him, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

But now, it seemed even when they weren't in the room, he was plagued with twitching ears and a tapping foot. He spun his pen in his hand, starting at the words with a furrowed brow but none of them were computing or making sense. All the notes taken weren't making any sense to him. There was a lingering his chest and it made him groan, letting his forehead fall against the table. Maybe he should take a few days off of work to recuperate...

"Tighnari?"

His head shot up. Of course, of all people - it felt like he was in some sick play. To make matters worse, he had to suppress a wince at how they said his name, despite the concerned look they held from the other side of the table.

Until recently, they seldom called Tighnari by his full name. They claimed that nicknames felt more intimate and they loved finding fun ones for people. Of course, they were respectful about it. They referred to him as Master Tighnari until their relationship became less professional and more lenient, causing them to consider each other friends rather then colleagues. And then, he became simple and plain 'Tigh'. It was always, "Hey Tigh, look at this," or "I read an interesting book recently, Tigh. I can lend it to you." They only used his full name if searching for them in the forest or if they were upset at his teasing.

But over the last week, he'd not heard his familiar nickname. Maybe it was just cause he'd been avoiding them, anyways. But he felt it was actually just cause they had caught on to his hesitation and conflicted mood.

Even now, they kept careful distance within the library, books piled in their arms. Each one labeled different subspecies of animals or specifics of a single kind. He specialized in botany and they focused on zoology. That was the reason they'd been introduced in the first place; a shared desire to preserve the forest.

Their brow furrowed at his silence and gently asked again, "Tighnari, is everything alright?"

He swallowed, "Yes, I'm fine. Just... exhausted."

They seemed... cautious. As if overthinking their next words and walking on eggshells. Tighnari hated it. He hated that he was inadvertently the one who caused such a demeanor. Eventually, they locked eyes with him again (he flexed his foot as an outlet of wanting to squirm) and said, "If you need someone to take some of your work burdens, I'm more than happy. It's been quiet in the sanctuary as of late."

It was insane how two sentences could instantly make his tail swish. No matter how hard he tried to subdue its effect, he still felt it in his chest and stomach. The feeling of insects, as people often describe it in fiction. He wasn't one for fiction reading, but they were and it'd caused him to delve into it a tad. 

The first sentence was pure worry and care for his well-being. They must think his newfound attitude was a side effect of his work. Sometimes, it could be. But usually, he was still happy to be doing research despite the strenuous task it could prove to be. Tourists caused him stress as well, due to their naivety and desire to seemingly poison themselves at every corner, but he was careful to who he directed his frustrations. This is the first time they've experienced the blunt end of it. He felt a tightness in his chest knowing it was his fault. 

The second sentence was words of their own passion. If you let them, they'd babble for days about the animal sanctuary and the state of its inhabitants. They cared for it day in and day out and he's had more than a few times where he'd wander past in the late hours, only to find them still there and taking their nightly medicine routines into their own hands. He'd never met someone more in tune with other beings. He himself preferred living beings that lacked as much consciousness, but they reveled in figuring out their needs and helping them back into the wild. The fact that they were willing to put aside their duties in their prized home spoke a thousand words. 

"There's no need," He excused, voice involuntarily softer than expected, "Thank you, though. That's very kind."

They hummed, gently setting their tower of books on the table. It seemed they didn't intend to let this go gently. Though he knew they would never be pushy - just open and sometimes almost pleading to understand others. They always said humans were much more difficult to understand than animals. Humans have more difficult needs. Animals are wordless but have a simple list of what they require. 

They lingered, pretending to flicker over the spines on a nearby bookcase. Tighnari could do nothing but watch them, far too distracted by their presence to continue his own work. 

"I read a new book the other day," They brought up, gaze flickering back towards him, still standing. 

Okay, this was fine. Normal conversations, like they usually had. He would never admit that he missed it. He linked his hands, setting his chin on them and elbows on the table, "Oh, really? Pray tell."

Without missing a beat they said, "It was about foxes."

He paused. They continued, "Different subspecies. Some are native to Sumeru, and some are from other regions. Apparently, their fur color often corresponds with where they are native to," They finally pulled out a chair and sat, continuing a gentle tone, "Some of it mentioned fennec foxes. Curious stuff, really."

Tighnari had frozen. His once slightly smug demeanor had taken a turn and he instead watched them with wide eyes. They paused their sentence, but the only thing he could mutter in reply was a small, "...Interesting."

"It really was," They mused, picking the top book from their pile and seamlessly flipping to a certain page. Even from his spot across the table, he could see diagrams of four-legged animals with big ears. His own twitched atop his head and he struggled not to let them show too much of his emotion. 

Their finger dragged across the page as they explained nonchalantly, "The smallest of the foxes, and they eat a lot of meat or similar. Sometimes berries. Though, I assume based on their typical habitat in the desert, fruit, and berries are more so like a treat."

...Was this some newfound form of torture? Or was some game they were playing to mess with him? He was unsure, but the only solution he had was to listen. Even if their words grew more familiar with each sentence - like they were slowly drifting away from explaining the average fennec fox and heading towards explaining something else.

"They help control rodents, primarily. And yet we hunt them and they struggle in some parts of the world. But they're doing better, lately," They explained calmly, the same way they did any other information. They looked up from the book and back towards the man, "They have an extraordinary hearing as well. And their ears serve as protection from the sun. But would you like to know the most curious thing to me?"

Instead, he asked, "Why were you researching Fennec Foxes?"

He hoped maybe he'd get an admittance of some sort, but he should've known better. As they just smiled and said, "We just rescued some at the sanctuary. I got curious, I suppose. Anyways," And they returned to his torture, "We rescued two of them, and I got to looking at their mating habits. It's interesting to me, frankly."

Archons, save Tighnari now. Their gentle smile was anything but innocent, words laced with false naivety as they said, "It's a bit poetic, honestly. They mate for life, just with one another. Sounds like a big commitment."

They hummed, letting their head fall tilted into one of their hands, "If we humans had obligations like that - for our first partner to be our last - we'd have many different traditions. I think it'd end up being terrifying, for some surely. What a heavyweight, knowing the chance of picking the wrong person or them not reciprocating."

He swallowed, spinning a pen between his fingers just to move in any way and keep his ears from drooping at their words. Trying to keep any reaction from reaching him and making them aware of what they were doing. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. They just watched him, carefully calculated. The same way they read the body languages of creatures in the sanctuary. He didn't like being on the receiving end of that gaze, particularly. 

They waited patiently for an answer so he ended up just spitting out the first thing he could think of, "It is terrifying."

Uh oh. He recognized that small smile of achievement and it made his brow furrow in annoyance. They leaned forward, chin on both hands now with a sly, "Are you implying it applies to you as well, Tighnari?"

So this is what they wanted. A twisted confession of sorts that he was affected by the more animal-ish parts of himself than he often cared to admit. It wasn't really any bodies business, but they were just too good at reading all creatures and prying it from him. And his expression just seemed to seal the deal for them, based on the pleased hum they gave. 

"I knew it," They whispered, leaning even farther forward across the table and making him press against the back of his chair as they interrogated, "So who is it? Give me a name so I can give them a stamp of approval or run them away."

"It's nobody," He quickly growled in defense. 

They frowned, "Well, I assume it's why I don't see you much anymore, so it's gotta be something."

"And what brought you to the conclusion that it was something to do with my love life?" He scoffed, not sure whether he was trying to fool himself or them. A small part of him also admittedly wanted to actually know how they were brought to this conclusion. 

And to his delight, they leaned back and began to recount, "Well, you've been more agitated as of late. But you also seem happier in a weird way. Your tail has been wagging - which I've never witnessed from you before - and I even caught you purring once-"

"I don't purr!" He quickly deflected, placing his hands roughly on the surface of the table with heat rising to his face. They raised their hands in defense, giving a small laugh and waving for him to sit back again. He did, and tacked on, "That all could have to do with anything. Not necessarily some school crushes you think I may have."

They opened their mouth, but paused and gave a hum instead. Tighnari thought that perhaps he'd somehow convinced them, but they were too smart for that. They never would go into such an accusation without a plausible clause, so there was bound to be something else. 

As expected, there was. Their mood seemed to simmer down into what it had been when they first arrived, hands fidgeting and gaze flickering. They said, "...Well, I spoke with Collei, and then Cyno. Collei gave her insight but was rather reserved. Cyno was blunt with his answer, however."

Tighnari couldn't help but ask, "Why do you care about this so much?"

Another pause, and then a tiny admittance, "It really seemed to be bothering you and I wanted to help. And I thought I might've done something wrong, admittedly."

...Right. That's why they'd been calling his name so formally. Why they seemed almost timid. But despite the way his shoulders sank just an inch, they gave a small carefree laugh to brush it aside and continued anyways, "Anyways, their responses led me to two hypotheses. One seemed more likely, so I began to pursue that one first."

"I assume it was the idea that I had romantic feelings for someone," He deduced and they nodded with a smile. Tighnari folded his arms over his chest and asked, "Then what was your second hypothesis?"

Their energy shrank again. This time, just that unassuming question seemed to flip the table and some color grew along their face. Tighnari's ear twitched against his will at the sight, tail threatening to shift. He suppressed the urge to let it move further. 

They smiled nervously, "It doesn't really matter, it's unlikely."

There was no way he was just letting them get away with that, "I trust any ideas you may have, so please."

"It's self-centered and idiotic," They said this time, and he took note of a dislike at hearing them speak like that, but they tacked on, "Hence why it was a second hypothesis, but it really shouldn't have been counted."

"What's it based on?" Tighnari asked instead, trying to weave his way into its true nature. 

They seemed awkward now. He admittedly enjoyed it. They explained, "Just based on the data given by Collei and Cyno."

"And that is?" He pushed further. 

No answer came immediately. Instead, they picked at the pages of their open book, eyes flickering over the fox figure on its pages. They weren't currently wearing the usual uniform they did, and he hated how he took pleasure in seeing them outside of a work environment. A simple button-down and wide-legged pants. Always an odd mixture of styles from Mondstat - where they spent many years studying - and Sumeru, their current point of residence. But always comfortable. No matter what.

They didn't answer his question, but said instead, "I read another book. It was specifically about the fox-human race. I learned a lot, actually, that I wasn't aware of before."

He didn't interrupt, and instead opted to listen carefully as they continued, "Like why your fur is green, or the fact that your race typically lives in the desert - which I find ironic, based on how well you fair in hot weather. But it also showed that you share some practices with your animal counterparts."

"Which is why you looked into them," He finished, and they nodded. 

"Yes, but..." They paused, putting their hands together again in a wringing and picking that he seldom saw in them. It took them a second to gather their words, but they eventually scoffed in fake amusement and said, "Well, a common factor seemed to be... me. Collei didn't say it, but I could tell, and Cyno was blunt. So I figured it could be one of two things. Either I did something you didn't like - but I know you're good about letting people know if they've done something of the sort, so I trust you - or..."

Oh. Oh, Archons. Tighnari was terrible at hiding things, wasn't he? 

"...Maybe it was me," They finally finished, then gave another scoff like it was some joke, "But that's just me trying to shift things, no matter how well it all lined up."

Tighnari's throat felt like it was closing up. So close, yet so far. He couldn't help but say, "How does it all line up?"

They blinked, seeming almost confused about his further inquiry and lack of berating or being called a 'Lummox' like he often did. He was acting weird - and that made them grow a bit more nervous as well. 

They acted poorly at being casual, leaning back and saying, "Well, they didn't really mention noticing a mood change around them, unless I was brought up or I came into a room. Collei didn't really say much about it, she tries not to spread your business, but she did say you snapped at her once when she offered to ask me for help. Cyno was blunter - he's the one who put the hypothesis in my mind."

Of course, he was, Tighnari bitterly thought, already planning the long-winded speech of annoyance he was going to give his friend. All he could think to do was give a small hum, but he regretted it immediately when a short silence ensued. 

Eventually, they felt the need to fill it and said, "Yeah, that's why I said it was self-centered."

He wanted to laugh. 'Self-centered'- they just looked at the facts and data provided and gave the best solution. And they were dead on, as well. But he wouldn't say that to them - he couldn't say it to them. Because they were right about everything they said. About his newfound attitude only being around them, and also about how terrifying it was knowing the partners he chose were intended to be for life. Humans don't typically live like that. 

Many are able to spend their years, shifting from partner to partner to learn about romance and explore the world, but he was just wired differently. And sure, he knew a small bit about their past romance life and the single, short-lived relationship they had. And the fact that they took such matters rather seriously and weren't one to dance around. Frankly, that conversation, laced with just a few drinks of wine, had been one of the first tipping points in his mind. The way they had laid their head on the table, and how quiet the night had been. It was so loud just an hour before, but now they were having a heartfelt conversation about expectations regarding relationships. He'd shared practically no details, but they never once pushed and instead opened up to him. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve them. 

"You're right," He blurted out. 

It took him a moment to realize the words had left his lips. Tighnari could hear his blood flow in his ears and felt impossibly stiff in his chair. 

They blinked, "...Okay, I know I was saying it was self-centered, but it does hurt when you confirm it."

He tripped over his words, "What? No- That's not - I didn't mean that. I'm talking about-"

Oh, absolutely not. Tighnari would say a lot of things, typically in observation of others' wrongdoings, but he still was struggling to admit that they had figured him out. They'd read him and his actions like an open book, and while that alone was embarrassing, it was what they read that he couldn't bare to admit. 

Their brow furrowed, watching him in confusion and wracking their brain, gears turning. Then, they blinked and cautiously asked, "...My second hypothesis?"

Tighnari didn't respond. 

They mumbled, "...Oh."

Would it be wrong of Tighnari to grab his books and excuse himself? He supposes it would. But there was absolutely nothing else he wanted to do besides that. They would find him, he knew that, but he also knew that if he left right now, it'd just make it worse. It'd give him a momentary time of pure panic until they eventually confronted him. It's best to get whatever was going to happen over with now. Even if he was sure the speed of his heart was too fast to be healthy and his claws had dug deep into the seat of his chair. His hazel gaze had dropped down to his book, trying to seem almost nonchalant but it was impossible with how stiff his shoulders were. 

There was at least a minute where they were both quiet, but it definitely felt like hours. Like an endless amount of time was passing and he truly began to consider picking up his books and leaving. He wouldn't get any work done, but maybe that was better than sitting here painfully. 

And then, their chair squeaked. He flinched at the sharp sound and at first thought they must be leaving. Maybe that would be their rejection - and as much as he liked to think he was prepared for one, he knew how heart-wrenching it would be if he got one. That's why he preferred the awkward in-between of having a crush and not confessing. It would be better than if they rejected him. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw them pick up their chair by the back of it, and then their padding footsteps came around the table. The chair landed beside him, and they came soon after. He felt impossibly warm like he was in the desert itself. He wouldn't even be surprised if they could feel it from their spot next to him. 

They folded their arms on the table and laid their head on them, eyes looking straight up toward Tighnari. This was horrible. Even worse than how they tortured him before. 

Their voice was delicately soft as they asked, "Are you scared 'cause of the implications of lifelong partners?"

He scoffed, tilting his head away to try and give his flushed face some privacy from their prying eyes, "That's the lightest way to put it."

"I'll spend my life with you."

Tighnari sat still. His heart still raced. But he managed to glance back at them, a serious expression on them still with their head down. He asked, "You'll what?"

They smiled, "I basically said I feel the same. And I'd be pretty content stuck with you for the rest of my life," They gave a thoughtful glance upwards in thought, "Y'know, I thought I made it pretty obvious how I felt. Did I not?"

This time, Tighnari's rise in heat in his face was due to annoyance and he barked, "No, you did not make anything obvious!"

They laughed pushing themselves to sit up but still gazing at him. For a few moments, he just took deep breaths and tried to come to terms with his impossible solution coming to fruition. He'd thought millions of times about what he'd do should they reject him, but hardly given any thought to the opposite happening. He didn't really know what to do now. 

Thankfully, they had an answer, "Y'know, now would be a really cute and kinda romantic time to kiss."

In a very 'them' fashion, they added, "It'd be like a scene from those romance books I like to read. All tense and then cute and soft-"

He shut up their annoying ramble by just grabbing their face gently and complying with their request. They hummed in delight and replied quickly. 

Tighnari was content and proud to be a fox hybrid. But it becomes easier with each person that takes time to know him and understand him.

#tighnari x reader #tighnari #tighnari x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #x reader #fluff #cute #plants #first kiss #mutual pinning #cyno mentioned #collei mentioned

[significant-ace-nnoyance]

How do you feel about Leah Sava Jeffries as Annabeth Chase, and why should we throw Leah a huge parte for being the annie we always deserve but never got much of

HELL YEAH ARE YOU KIDDING ME LEAHBETH IS THE BEST THING THATS EVER HAPPENED TO ME THIS ENTIRE YEAR OH MY GODS AND GODDESSES im fully self aware that "i look like i would have been an annabeth kid" and its because i FOR SURE WAS WHY WOULDNT ANYONE BE she is The Character the MOMENt the ICON of the AGES and leah is adapting her energy to screen so ???? perfectly ?????? like did rick just shake the book and she fell out ??????? what sorcery is this?? ??????

no but in all seriousness leah is killing it as annabeth and its super clear that she did her research and understands the character (in interviews she talks about how she read annabeth povs in later books and did research on greek mythology and athena so she could understand the lightning thief not just from percys pov but from annabeth 🥺🥺 she so annabeth coded irl i adore her) and it genuinely shows like ive microanalyzed all her expressions because her facial acting has so much DEPTH and LAYERS and OH MY GODS leah deserves all the parties and we are so privileged to have her as our annabeth chase <3 imagine being that talented at like 13

im super excited to see what additions she makes to the character in this adaptation!!! already i think she's really highlighting annabeth's battle strategy smarts over just booksmarts which EVERYONE ALWAYS FORGETS ABOUT SHES NOT JUST A BOOK NERD SHES A FUCKING GENERAL HEAD OF THE ATHENA CABIN MOST FORMIDABLE DEMIGOD AT CAMP AS A 12 YEAR OLD the duality is giving me LIFE and i love how she gets to boss around percy and grover (leah also talked about loving to get to be in charge and competitive as annabeth which shes SO REAL FOR THAT shes such an annabeth type) BUT ALSO YOU ALREADY GET TO SEE HER VULNERABILITIES AND INSECURITIES AND THE WAY SHE CARRIES HERSELF THAT MAKES HER SIMULTANEOUSLY COOL BUT ALSO IS A REFLECTION OF TRAUMA AND POOR EMOTIONAL COPING yeah basically shes not just giving us annabeth shes giving us annabeth but MORE and its making me understand her character BETTER and in a NEW way (and if you have anything to say about her portrayal in the show i will genuinely pull up with a full ass powerpoint slideshow because IF YOU MEDIA COMPREHEND FOR TWO SECONDS AND KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HER CHARACTER IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE AND ITS SO JUICY AND JALKDJFKBL)

i think about that shot of her looking at percy using medusas head through the screen porch ALL THE TIME. and her delivery of "grover can you tell your friend to pull himself together" LIKE THATS WHEN SHE TURNS TO HER PROTECTOR FOR HELP AND IT HAS A LITTLE BIT OF A SASSY IM-BETTER-THAN-YOU-PERCY VIBE TO IT BECAUSE SHES HIDING THE FACT THAT SHES SCARED AND UNCOMFORTABLE TO TALK ABOUT HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER UNAVAILABLE MOM (and percy sees right through that just as she sees right through percy and oh my gods if i get started on percabeth ill never shut up)

anyways thanks for giving me an opportunity to go on a mini rant about leahbeth i could say so much more because when i say ive analyzed every frame my girl is in i am NOT joking

but ill just end by saying that anyone who is upset by show annabeth being black literally did not understand her as a character or the percy jackson books in general so they can stfu and get their little butthurt wrong opinions out the door bc they dont belong here anyway <3 rick and becky also talked about how they hired black sensitivity readers to help write annabeth's blackness more authentically into her character in the show so very much hoping that they do that well! and im overall just super excited to see what changes they make to adapt my favorite character to a new era, a new medium, and a new audience!

go treat yourself to some leah interviews because i actually adore her and will protect her and annabeth (though arguably theyre one and the same) with my life <3

#god i coudl talk for hours but ill stop #sorry for hte long ass post but honestly whats the point of tumblr if not for me to be autistic on main about annabeth chase #omg i still remember the moment they announced annabeth and grovers casting #i litearlly slapped and hand over my face and was like no way no way no way THEY FUCKIGN DID IT OH MY GODS #ltierally thank the gods every day that we got the perfect trio based on actual voice and personality <333333333 #anyways bestie i will talk leahbeth w you anytime we should throw her a party because she is actually eating up this role #the sass #the emotiosn #the Generaling #will never get over her in her armor THAT IS MY QUEEN RIGHT THERE THAT IS THE ICON I REMEMBER FROM MY CHILDHOOD #they ltierally just stole annabeth from the books but made her better #and by that i mean like rick has a chance to rewrite her for the modern era and make her characterization cleaner and tighter #esp becuase APPARENTLY people missed the point the first time #annabeth haters actually make me so fucking mad if think about it too long ill explode #BUT WE DONT HAVE TO THINK ABOUT THEM BC WeRE GETTING A TRUTHFUL ADAPTATION OF ANNABETH AND THE TRIO AND THEY CAN CRY ABOUT IT #YIPPPEEEEEEE #time to rewatch episode three #im not going to survive the tunnel of love #or the discussion in the vegas truck if we get that #leah sava jeffries #SHES TRENDING!!! #leahbeth #annabeth chase #leah jeffries #annabeth #percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #i love the mispelled tag #pjo <3

[thequietkid-moonie]

Meeting someone who doesn't exist

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Hanako, Yashiro & Kou ]

[ Toilet Bound Hanako-kun / Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun ]

I saw something similar to this happening in two of my favorites stories and I was like fuck off, I'll write about it!!

I enjoyed writing this SO MUCH!!! I hope you enjoy reading it too ❤️

One day an interesting aparition started to wander around the school, no one really knows from where it came from or how long it has been here, not even the supernaturals knows about it, even the leader of the seven misteries were surprised the first time he saw you

Hanako, as the leader of the seven, has to make sure you wouldn't be here to cause problems to humans or supernaturals, so when he finally noticed you he started making his research, aproaching you in hopes to solve this peacefuly (and dragging Yashiro and Kou with him). Words more or words less, Hanako was very clear with his intention to know you better, mainly your name and your reason to be there, however he encounter a problem that he would never guess it could happen, you cannot answer his question because you don't know the answer

All of them were surprised by your answer but tried to help you remeber, is normal to ghosts to don't remember about their previous life as humans so they just assumed it was that (or wanted to believe that it was that), is more likely that they end up dragging you around the school in hopes that something, anything could bring you memories (honestly, it was more Kou and Yashiro's idea), they drag you all around the school, the classrooms, the clubs, even where the borders are but nothing was of use, you couldn't remeber anything, you couldn't even remember your name

The whole situation was not only weird but also suspicious, deciding to move forward more cautiously all of them (mostly by Hanako's hand) started to drag you with the supernaturals in hopes that they could be of help, even just an advice could be of use. When the options began to run out they opted to even try to search for your book with Tsuchigomori, but it was usless since you don't know your name; as last resource they visited the first mistery, asking their help in an attempt to know more about your past, but they couldn't help neither because you don't have a past

In a attempt to be able to solve the confusing puzzle you are, Kou had even resorted to ask Teru for his help, making him promise that he won't get violent with you (or Hanako) right away before even letting him meet you, Teru accepted only because his brother asked him and for how he talked about you he actually wanted to know you (because he wanted to make sure you weren't just hiding your intentions and be a threaten), but the moment Teru finally met you he was completely taken aback, he take a full moment to watch you closely, trying to comprehend you, but at the end his conclusion wasn't better than from the others, according with Teru you shouldn't be even here, you weren't human but you weren't a supernatural neither, you simply aren't anything, even when they can see you, talk to you and even touch you you just don't exist

No matter what they do to try to help you or find out more about you, the more they try the more strange the situation turns to be, they can't help to feel completely worry about you, specially when you don't seem too bothered by it, yes, you may be surprised by everything and worried at first but no matter what else you find out there is always the feeling inside of you that tells you that it is okay, you don't have to afraid since this is the way it should be

At some point, and thanks to their help, you did finally was able to understand that you being here was an error, some time ago you had given up to not only your life but your complete existance, you had been completely erradicated from the world for a greatest good, something that, in your eyes, was totally worthy of the sacrifice you were doing and you don't feel any kind of regret about your decision, even if at this point you don't remember anything about it and you know you shouldn't even be there you were at peace about it

Hanako was completely confused, he didn't undestand at all, Yashiro were terrified by the posibility of you don't existing and even being an error your presence, and Kou couldn't just bring himself to even accept that fact, it was too much to process for the poor guys, and yet seeing you take this situation so naturally was even more confusing. They couldn't just undestand nor accept the fact that you shouldn't exist

How could you say that you don't exist or shouldn't be here when they can see you and touch you? You had even became their friend! All this time that all of you were trying to trying to find answers you had share a lot, you were having fun, getting all confused and worried together, and all of that wasn't a lie, you did laugh and worry with them, you talked and shared a lot with them, you can't just came and say that you shouldn't be here now

By trying to help you (and probably try to cope with the shock) Yashiro bring out the thought that since you are here then you exist! even if the world refused to aknowledge you they can see you and that is more than enough for them to know that you exist, so with that it mind Yashiro, followed by Kou and Hanako, were now determinated to give you a new life, to aknowledge your existance, and the first step to do that was giving you a name

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shonen hanako kun #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #hanako kun #hanako x reader #yashiro nene #yashiro x reader #minamoto kou #kou x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

[ovaruling]

negative self talk incoming for whoever needs that idek

regular daily update that i regret having my like 99999 cosmetic surgeries so much and i dont even want to put the exhaustive energy into accepting my face and body atp anymore bc they remain utter strangers who i hate

and despite all of the feminist theory i have read and comprehended and applied to the way i see the world i STILL cannot rid myself of this very specific form of self-hatred and im not even being defeatist when i say i truly know that i will never be at peace bc of the choices i have made. like how can i ever be ok with this. i’d have to be lobotomized to be cool with this

and even besides that the chronic physical pain and damage to my actual nervous system won’t allow me a moment of forgetfulness. like on an amazing day where i’m full of caffeine or xanax i can MAYBE forget what i look like for an hour but it’s impossible to forget that i literally cant physically feel my entire torso and abdomen and buttocks and my upper back and my inner thighs and upper arms and underarms and my jaw and cheeks

but also at the same time i can feel incredible levels of stabbing numb shocks of pain in all of them lmfao.

exercising helps for a bit and reminds me that i can at least move my body around but i always gotta come back to reality where i have to confront that i’m genuinely permanently ill and legitimately brain damaged. like neurologically

and bc of that i went from being a normal adult 10 years ago to now i cant hold a job, cant go back and attend school, cant drive a car anymore, need IV treatments weekly, no independence, no ability to even volunteer for longer than an hour at local animal shelters before i start having problems bc i cant explain to anyone why i need to lie down every 2 hours or else i legitimately go numb and pass out no matter how little exertion im doing, no future where i can help the world the way i want to. i cant even read 2 chapters of a fucking favorite book that i LOVE without getting dizzy for no fuckjng reason. i have to REST from reading a fucking BOOK

and doctors are just like “oh well that’s what happens when you fucking almost die two times from elective surgery lol kinda your fault tbh. you really should’ve just accepted how viciously hated by men your body was. but the human body is so mysterious huh!!! like this is crazy dude lmao. 🤪 so yeah here’s a pamphlet for a support group that doesn’t really fit your needs and some medication that won’t work bc we still don’t really know how to diagnose or treat plastic surgery victims like this bc technically you weren’t in a car crash or anything so we don’t really have enough research rn to fully apprehend what’s going on w your mysterious ass. also you had more surgeries than most ppl ever will be stupid enough to undertake so like we have no idea what to do w you lol!!!!!! there isn’t really data that fits your situation but maybe in 30 years 😌”

just in case anyone was wondering if i changed my mind on cosmetic surgery being true evil!!!!!! lol

ok sorry for the pity party i just really am feeling the weight of it all rn

#im not gonna kms or anything but i still do look forward to the day i die #nothingness will be such a relief #im not looking for advice btw i’m just venting sorry #anti cosmetic surgery

[serenelia]

ʀᴇꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴅᴅɪᴇꜱ- ʟᴀʏʟᴀ

★○★○★○★★○★○★○★★○★○★○★★○★○★○★★○★○★○★★○★○★○★

Have some Layla brainrot (a.k.a. I was bored and wrote a fanfic), I love her so much I wish she appeared more in genshin events.

Warnings: a bit ooc both on the character (I tried my best to make it in character as much as possible) and reader ((obviously)). possibly canonically, ergonomically, geometry, mathematically, incorrect. And fluff... I think that's it.

And finally, character/letter count: 7754

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(name) had just got assigned a reasearch topic, being a student from the Rtawahist Darshan, naturally, the topic was about Astrology. The catch is that along with the research, they also get assigned a partner so they wouldn't have to suffer as much.

Of course, it all depends entirely on whom you're doing your paper with.

In (name)'s case, it.. doesn't seem to bad. It could be worse. After all, Layla looks capable enough. Being a top student after all and always getting work done before the deadline.

Walking towards her as she was packing her things, "hello, you're Layla, right?" (Name) greets her with a small smile.

Seemingly caught off guard, the blue haired girl flinches before slowly turning her head to glance at them.

Both of them were quiet.. so quiet that (name) stifly smiles and were about to add something else but she suddenly replies back, "ah! Hi, yes, I am. You're.. (name), right? My partner for the research..." She says, her voice lowering into a whisper as she goes on, as if she wasn't sure herself.

Not minding it much, figuring she must be quite awkward since she usually stays to herself- not to be offensive in any way, (name) themselves can relate to her a lot in fact, (name) nods and stood in front of her desk. "Yeah, I want to talk about that actually, uhm, but do you.. want to talk about it now or would you prefer we talk about it another time?"

They wouldn't want to intrude in her time after all, the deadline wasn't too strict so a couple more days were doable.

surprisingly, Layla shakes her head, "n-no we can talk about it now.. so we can finish it much more earlier." She replies, still awkward.

..is it just me or does she looks forced? (Name) thinks.e

After (name) stayed silent for a few seconds, it seems Layla thought she said something wrong and visibly hesitates, her eyes waver while her lips quiver as she bites it.

She gulps nervously before adding, "only if you're available of course! I understand if you're too busy because I am too.. I just wanted to get it done sooner since I.. I mean, we have a lot to do..." Again, her voice lowers in terms of volume as she spoke.

Realising this, (name) clears their throat and scratches the back of their head, "Oh, uhm.. don't worry, I'm available too so we can talk about it now." They awkwardly say, feeling slightly guilty for making her fidget like that.

(Name) quickly adds, "How about you? If you're too busy, it's fine. You don't have to force yourself," noting how stiff and tired she looks.

..though she had always looked tired.

Layla shakes her head, "oh, yes, I'm sure. I appreciate your concern but I'm not.. forcing myself." She clarifies, "people always think I am but that's just.. how I look.."

ah, other people have probably said that, huh?

(Name) cringes interally at themselves but quickly shakes it off, nodding their head in understanding.

Taking a seat on the empty one beside her, they place the items they were carrying on the table before turning to face her properly with a friendly smile. "Alright then, so, what do you think could be our topic?"

<–—–—–—–>>

After discussing a bit about the topic, both (name) and Layla agreed to go to the House of Daena to do some researching.. that is, until (name) groans as they bury their head on the book they were reading.

The topic was simple enough, really. But looks like (Name)'s head is having a factory reset and can't comprehend anything out of it.

Layla takes notice and peeks at them through her own book. she's doing way more progress than them, judging by the amount of notes she made and stacked just beside the other books she had read.

Not wanting to let them have a hard time, or she simply did it out of her good heart, she places her book down and taps the one they were holding to get their attention.

(Name) hums as they raise their head, their hair slightly disheveled, "yeah? What is it?"

Placing a finger on top of the book, she gently lowers it onto the table. Earning a confused look from (Name), "why, what's up?" They ask again, looking at her with a raised brow.

Layla hesitates, "Uhm, that book isn't.. related to the topic we discussed actually.." she sheepishly replies, her guilt of staying quiet for a while catching up.

...

"What?"

"..that book isn't connected to the.. orbit of the stars."

"...oh."

"Yeah.."

...

"W-why didn't you say it sooner?" (Name) stutters, a pinkish hue forming on their cheeks, now extremely embarrassed.

They close the book and turn it to look at the cover while Layla fumbles with her words, trying to think of a reasonable answer other than she was scared to point it out.

Fearing they would only be annoyed or even angry if she did pointed out, she hesitated a lot even just thinking about it. And now, she's mentally preparing herself for (Name)'s outburst. Knowing they would be extremely angry and shout at her or bang the table loudly like the other researchers she's been with.

So, she gulps and tries to come up with a.. plausible enough reason. "I'm sorry! I had thought you wouldn't like it if I did.." she... Wait, no! That wasn't what she was supposed to say!

It was supposed to be.. agh, nevermind. The words have been said, now all that's left is for (Name) to be frustrated at her.

(Name) then sighs and shrugs, "Oh, well, it's alright."

Layla blinks.

"but you really should have told me earlier.. I've been reading this for an hour!" They whine, covering their face with a hand, the blush still present on their cheeks.

She really had to take a minute to process what they said.

And how come they look.. kind of cute..

Her mouth is shut, not responding, taken aback by their nonchalant response and stunned by their cute appearance all of a sudden.

(Name) doesn't seem to mind and instead of demanding for answers, inhales sharply, placing the book they read earlier faraway from them. Sliding it across the table and landing on the other side.

That caught Layla's attention and she quickly snaps out of it, shaking and lowering her head.

With an almost shaky voice, all she could say was: "...S-sorry," while averting their gaze, feeling embarrassed as well.

(Name) chuckles, raking a hand through their hair as a force of habit, trying to look somewhat cool again despite the embarrassing act earlier, "well, I'll.. just read something else then, hopefully it'll be on topic this time." They mumble, turning away to stand up and look for another book to read.

Layla turns her head to look at them and swiftly grabs their wrist to stop them from walking away as they stand up.

Startled, (Name) freezes, pausing their action of standing up, their knees are bended from an awkward position. It already began to ache so they stood upright and Layla's grip on them tightens.

They both stay silent. it's almost mandatory at this point as it happened more than three times for the past hour, but this time, unlike the previous ones, it's as if something is lingering in the air.

...now where had that come from, anyway?

(Name) had noticed but couldn't describe it.

Perhaps it is tension?

Tension from what, Unanswered questions?

procrastinating on an essay?

Maybe something else.

Or maybe they're being delusional and is just imagining it.

But from the way Layla seemed to look bashful, unsure on what to do next while she stares at them with a slightly flushed face, maybe they aren't.

As (Name) was about to speak, Layla suddenly lets go of their hand and yanks her own back. Holding it close to her chest, she glances at them shyly, "u-uhm.. there's.. I have some books I haven't sorted out, you.. you could read those instead." Layla spoke in a whisper.

"Oh.." (Name) breaths, "I see, I'll.. see to it then!" They reply, feeling a bit bashful themselves as they took a seat once again.

Layla nods and doesn't say anything else, staring at her hand silently, the blush still present.

(Name) looks between the stack of books and her, debating whether to ask her to lend it over.

Since she still seems to be embarrassed, (Name) decides to get it themselves. Leaning over and reaching out a hand to it.

Layla was caught off guard, too engrossed in her own mind that she forgot why she even held them back in the first place, she watches them lean ever closer. And whats worse is that they used the arm further from her.

Which only made them tilt their head to her direction for it to reach out further, resulting in her almost fainting on the spot.

Their faces were close, and Layla couldn't help but notice how their eyelashes were quite long, plus their pretty eyes that shined brighter from the light bouncing off of it from the lamp nearby. As if them reading and talking about Astrology wasn't enough to make it ever more brilliant.

She held her breath while she stares and time seemed to do the same as the moment felt like forever. Them just staying there, close to each others faces with a faint blush on both of their cheeks.

After what feels like an eternity, (Name) finally leans back, a book in hand and a small smile on their face. "There, I'll finally be able to contribute something." They say proudly.

Layla releases the breath she was holding, feeling greatful and disappointed somehow. She murmurs, awkwardly, "Y-yeah.. goodluck, uhm, reading."

(Name) looks at her and grins slyly before turning their attention back on the book, opening it and searching through the contents.

Now that wasn't what Layla expected.

Does.. does that mean they did that on purpose!?

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Hopefully this isn't cringe, this my first time writing romancy stuff😭

#fanfic #genshin x y/n #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #layla #layla genshin impact #layla x reader #sumeru #sumeru akademiya #i would have made it longer but i literally can't romance #genshin fluff #fluff

[cardinalcheerio]

Because there is rumors that in SOC3 Kaz might die, I decided to write down how I think the crows(+colm our honorary crow) would react to his death.

Jesper:

Gambling with the fortune Kaz left him.

Doing research into his past and trying to see if he had any family to notify.

Quiter and avoids the Barrel unless he's drunk or really needed.

When on Jobs he's more cruel, and doesn't hesitate to kill anyone, also more cruel in a casual setting and doesn't make as many jokes

Overall very depressed for a while, and maybe focuses on something else like his fabricator abilities.

Wylan

Pays for a funeral and an actual gravestone.

Tries to support everyone. Even though he isn't doing well himself.

Insults Kaz alot to avoid the fact that he's gone, and he doesn't really know what to do.

Plays more flute, and sadder and more mellow songs.

Tries to deal with Jesper and help him mourn healthily.

Buys the Crow Club, and doesn't change any of it.

Starts dressing darker and more like Kaz, keeps his cane is a special glass container.

Nina(if chaper 40 never happened):

Doesn't take as long as the group in ketterdam do to deal with it.

Tries to get Matthias to understand that he did care about Kaz, and that they were friends.

Tries to bring him back to life by using her grisha magic, and by reading almost every book there is.

Eventually breaks down, and spends a day crying with Jesper, Inej, and Wylan.

Matthias:

It takes him a while to acknowledge that he did care about Kaz.

Keeps insisting for days after that Kaz will just show up at the door since he's a demijn and that means he can't die. Though he knows the truth deep down.

Hides his emotion and starts preying to djel, contemplates going back to fjerda to recieve his punishment for betrayal, though Nina stops him and they have a heart to heart.

He adopts a dog, and names him Kaz. He puts a tie on the collar to remind him of his lost friend.

Overall takes it decently, since I think that Matthias would believe he is happy and he will see Kaz soon.

Colm:

Doesn't believe Jesper when he tells him over a letter.

Travels to Ketterdam to get answers, only to find the group of teens mourning.

Decides to let them stay in his hotel(after he gets a bigger one) and takes care of them for a few weeks.

Cooks them meals, buys them some blankets and pillows for comfort. Just helps them mourn in general.

He is in shock, unable to comprehend how little the Crows know about Kaz's past.

Decides that he is going to figure out his past, and see if he has anyone to notify.

Overall Colm is just caring to who is left, and wants to help them move on and not feel guilty about not knowing their friend.

Inej:

First of them to know.

Takes it the worst, ends up killing on heists and being more brutal towards people.

She kills Pekka Rollins, and burns down the Menagerie out of anger.

She waits to tell the rest of the crows the day after, since she wants to see them be happy for a little longer.

First she breaks down into Wylans arms and tells him that she can't tell Jesper, because he will always associate her with it. And she can't deal with that right now.

Next she tells Nina, who breaks down and they both spend a girls night drinking and sharing memories of Kaz.

Eventually she sends a message to Colm saying.

"I'm so sorry, but Kaz died. Jesper might need you, no one is taking it well.

Love,

Inej Ghafa"

She sends the message then sneaks back to Kaz's old room and sleeps there.

She has no regrets about their relationship exept that neither of them got the chance to fully open up to one another.

She mourns for years, over her lost life with him. But also revels in the freedom, now having less ties to Ketterdam, and being able to do what she wants without thinking of a lover.

She still visits Jesper and Wylan a decade later, but not nearly as much, and she is free at sea, saving children and adults from slavers, and occasionally helping one of the other crows with a heist or anything else they may need.

Thanks for reading. I'm not crying you are.

#kaz brekker #kanej #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wesper #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #nina zenik #helnik #matthias helvar #six of crows #six of crows prompts #six of crows incorrect quotes #sad

[starbuck]

I feel like I should make a chart with all the Black Sails characters on it with lines between the characters who I’ve directly or indirectly compared in my notes so far, because it’s sort of getting ridiculous but I’m having a GREAT TIME!!!!!

#every time a situation occurs I’m like ‘oh hey that kinda reminds me of this other thing....’ #and then suddenly I’m writing up a whole comparison #essentially? everyone is everyone else #to a sort of ridiculous extent but one that I HIGHLY appreciate #so many absolutely fucking heartbreaking parallels #and then others that are just like What Does It Mean? What Does It All Mean? #I feel like I have to do actual book research just to comprehend what’s being said #said in a meta sense that is #because I WANNA KNOW!!!!! #I don’t wanna miss anything! #a couple of things seem to bizarrely function as foreshadowing but not foreshadowing that is possible to understand the first time through #istg some of this stuff was added SPECIFICALLY for people like me who love to tear this stuff apart and really dig in #and I could not be more grateful... I LOVE this show!!!!

[atzsslut]

「3:02 PM」 → In which your boyfriend, Mark Lee, has you sit on his face while you’re busy reading a book. Or, at least, trying to. | smut

warnings | fem/afab reader, cunnilingus ofc, reader is a year younger than mark, slight nipple play, mark loves having you sit on his face, mark’s also a little shit but you love him :)

note | ik ik i’ve been obsessed but this is CHILD mark with the whole eyebrow piercing, white shirt, blue jeans, and short black hair :)

Your legs squirmed, kneeled against the sides of a pillow while your boyfriend, Mark, had his head right in the middle, hands clutched around your thighs, while his lips were right on your clit.

You were softly reading out the lines of a book you were using for one of the sources in your research paper, loud enough for yourself to comprehend and just clear enough for Mark to hear incase you stopped. Usually, you’d have a pen and post-its to note parts you thought were the most relevant to your investigation.

But you had a feeling that you had to re-read some of the pages after this was done.

The situation was unfathomable—or unhinged, as you liked to say. It was the middle of the day, and just because the two of you didn’t have any classes, Mark decided it would be a good idea to have you do your research in his dorm.

And yes, just as you thought, he also made a terrible joke about what kind of “research” he would be doing on you.

You didn’t know if you laughed out of courtesy, or if your now three-month long boyfriend’s humor was rubbing off a bit too much on you. Nonetheless, he was making you feel good and you were losing concentration.

You vividly still remember how you met Mark. It was when you were a sophomore and he was a junior, and you had made friends with one of his younger friends (your age), Jeno. Undoubtedly so, there was a little bit of an attraction between you and Mark, and Jeno sensed it too. But nothing happened until recently, Mark being a senior and you a junior.

It was three months ago, another memory you vividly remember. Jeno had gotten impatient from all the back and forth flirting, and ended up physically and mentally pushing Mark to ask you out to be his girlfriend.

Your relationship with him progressed a bit faster than both of you would’ve thought, but the whole “please, i’d love for you to sit on my face” confession from Mark only came last month.

It wasn’t embarrassing for you at this point to do so, especially after finding out how much he enjoyed it. At times, you think he adores it more than you. But given the situation, and it’s timing, you felt extremely flustered.

There was a very thin sheen of sweat covering your skin from the sun coming in through the window, but you couldn’t really blame the temperature since it was extremely cold.

The February weather had no effect on why you were flushed.

What made you feel rather baffled was the thought of your arousal probably pooling around Mark’s lips, tainting it in ways that made him devour you more, and how his tongue lapped every single drop.

For a brief second, you gasped when you felt him suck harder on your clit,

“Why’d you stop reading?” he asked, sounding more like whdustprhdin than actual words. Nevertheless, you understood.

“M-Mark, why do I have to read this now? Why not after… after you’re done?”

“Mmm..” the vibrations of his vocal wondering made you slightly hiss, “Nah. I like this.”

“Mark—oh my god.” you were cut off by his sudden move to lick a stripe from your untouched hole to your bud of nerves, making you clench around nothing.

Again, for one last time, in a muffled voice, your boyfriend said “Don’t stop reading, babe.”

Which really just meant “Don’t stop reading so that I can know how many times I make you feel good because you’ll either pause, gasp, shake, or moan.”

You continued on to where you stopped, all the while trying to guess where exactly you did stop, and softly reading aloud to yourself like before.

But Mark was getting ballsy. And you were the subject receiving all these little moves to make you cum.

Continuing to pay attention to your clit, he was beginning to constantly suck, much different than before when he was only gently lapping at it—when he was being kind with his actions.

The feeling was sending butterflies all around the insides of your body, a familiar knot forming in your abdomen because of the pleasure. Not only was he paying much needed attention to your clit, but Mark always valued the power of touch.

His hands that were merely clutching your thighs before were now stroking back and forth, the tips of his fingers grazing your bare legs. It tickled only a little bit, but the sensations were undeniably adding onto his lips around your pussy.

Though your top was still on, your bra was off and somewhere on the floor, or perhaps the edge of the bed, and the cool air was only affecting your tits, the nubs much more sensitive than before.

It seemed like he had it all planned, especially when he didn’t turn the heater on. You’re sure that when you instigate him about that later, he’d only shrug and say his Canadian-ness makes him not need a heater.

You were facing the headboard, so your knees were on either side of Mark’s head, and you made sure to not close them or shake too much because you didn’t want to hurt him. But, fuck, he was making it hard for you not physically cave.

Without even looking, while one hand still grazed your thighs, one reached under your shirt, making your own hands clench your book harder while you tried your best to read.

As if he remembered every inch if your body, he got his left hand around your right breast quite easily, using his palm to cup it, and thumb to play with your nipple. Side to side, he rubbed it gently, just enough to make you more sensitive.

The overwhelming attention to the different parts of your body were sending you into overdrive, and you were even impressed with yourself that you could still manage to read.

But as actually thought about how amazing everything felt, it didn’t help for you to look down at Mark and see how he had his eyes right on you, obviously checking to see how you were getting affected by him.

His eyebrow piercing, which you went with him when he was getting it, was right at your view, while your own eyebrows were knitted as you stopped reading altogether, your pleasured sounds filling Mark’s ears as you tried to keep your mouth closed.

But being able to see the pretty expression you usually made when you were close was just enough for Mark to work even harder, now moving his right hand to to join his left at playing with your tits.

The book was clenched in your right hand that was now pushing against the sheets, the left in his hair, fingers laced in the slightly coarse texture (though, getting softer now that he occasionally used your conditioner).

It was getting too much.

You were shaking too much.

Your held in whimpers were too much.

And Mark’s complete concentration to make you cum was too. Fucking. Much.

In a matter of seconds, you reached your orgasm with a held back moan, only choppy, restrained breaths coming out of your parted lips. Mark could see from how you had your eyes closed, hands having moved away from him and the book, now pushing against the space that was left on the pillow right above his head.

And as quickly as you came, you found yourself needing to calm down after Mark’s elongated indulgence to the arousal in between your thighs. You let him prolong your orgasm just a bit more, licking your core like he couldn’t afford to not drink up all of your arousal. He never failed to remind you how hot he was when he did that.

When Mark tapped your thighs, it meant he was satisfied with himself. You got off him and sat against the headboard, conveniently finding your underwear almost falling off the edge of the bed.

As you slipped it on, you grabbed the book and breathed out one last time to relax, looking at your boyfriend who was now sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” you spoke in gratitude, actually needing everything you just experienced because of the stress uni was giving you.

“It’s always my pleasure.” he replied. Though he was facing the other way, you could feel that he was smiling. “So,”

You hear Mark ponder, turning your body to where he was. He was supposed to be going off to the bathroom to clean himself up, but it seemed that he had a further motive to rile you up even more after having himself in between your thighs.

“Hm?” you wonder aloud, curious about what he would say or ask, your hands still holding the book you were “reading” on your lap.

He only turned his head enough to be able to look at you directly, chin almost touching his shoulder, with one hand, he swiped his thumb over one side of his arousal-coated lips.

He could see you tentatively watching, a bit of shock in your eyes, chuckling on the inside while he still stared back at you, and kind of kissed the pad of his thumb, the sound of him sucking on it rather prominent. It made you suck in a breath, he could hear just as easily.

Putting that hand away, he continued on with his vocal thoughts like you were anticipating. Of course, now that he had flustered you out of any more words, he asked you with a slight smirk;

“Care to tell me what the book was about?”

#nct #nct mark lee #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x reader smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x fem reader #nct dream mark lee #nct smut #nct timestamp #mark lee timestamp #mark lee timestamp smut #nct mark lee smut #mark lee fanfic

[luvyanfei]

I just recently found your blog and I really love how you write ^^

I was wondering if I may request hcs of Zhongli and Albedo with a curious / knowledge thirsty s/o? Thank you in advance! ❤

kisjijf ur brain is so massive!!! thank u for the request!!

albedo.

he finds it endearing how curious you are, asking him questions about his experiments and what-not. sometimes, albedo worries that his occupation will annoy you since he’s barely free, but the fact that you’re okay with it pleases him. it makes him feel elated whenever you ask him if it’s alright for you to accompany him during his research. going to dragonspine is a freezing location roaming with dangerous enemies, but he’s made sure you’ll be safe as long as you’re with him.

wearing a heavy winter jacket to protect you from the frigid cold, you walk with hands linked together. he guides you to his personal lab sheltered away in a small cave, holding onto you tightly so you don’t accidentally slip on ice or anything of that sort. once you finally enter a place of security, albedo keenly observes you as you look around in amazement, immediately pointing to a few of his equipment and asking him to tell you what they are.

he answers all your questions with the utmost patience. sure, it would probably irk him a bit if anyone else behaved like this, but you’re different. a sort of different that he can’t quite place his finger on. maybe, it’s because your curiosity seems more adorable and pure than bothersome and nosy. yeah, that’s probably it.

albedo will still try to spare some time for you to go on what’s deemed as an idyllic date, but you’re quick to soothe his guilt by saying you’re having a lot of enjoyment at being able to aid in his research and expanding your knowledge! as long as you’re spending time with him, no matter what you’re doing or where you are, you’re perfectly content.

“albedo, i’ve been wondering, is there anything you’re actually not educated in?”

“hmm,” the light-haired man pauses his brief sketching and brings a finger up to his chin, “there is one thing i want to know.”

“and that is?” a hand presses itself on the wall beside your head as albedo leans in very close, his free hand combing through your hair. you wait for him to continue on with bated breath, heart drumming violently from his sudden action.

he doesn’t answer immediately, kissing you daintily on the forehead before his lips break into a smirk, drinking in your flustered expression.

“well, i’ve never been well-adept in the field of love, and i’m quite curious to find out the reason why my heart tends to skip a beat whenever i see you. so, care to assist me in seeking the answer?”  

zhongli.

you’re honestly a good match for him! zhongli is a rather talkative person who tends to ramble about liyue’s history and other topics that may bore the average person, but you’re one of the rare cases that will take delight in his chattering. he’s not bragging or anything about his library of knowledge, zhongli just tends to get kind of lonely to have no one to share his stories with.

a tiny part of him was a bit suspicious of your personality, the thought that you’re putting up a façade crossed his mind, but it’s long since vanished from his mind. he’s been in your presence for quite a while now to know for sure you’re being genuine, just from your body language alone.

the way you unconsciously lean towards him in an attempt to hear his every word and how your eyes light up whenever he talks about something you’re uneducated about - zhongli savors these little, cute habits of yours. he’s unofficially labelled himself as a sagacious mentor and you his cherished student. he takes his role very seriously, in a somewhat comedic way.

he’ll have you attend ‘field-trips’ with him, only because it’s better if you comprehend history by actually seeing the real thing instead of relying heavily on secondary sources. zhongli is also generous enough to quiz you at the library once you return back from your expeditions. he tries to make it suited to your taste, however, and will offer you plentiful of methods for you to memorize until you can basically mutter it all coherently in your sleep.

zhongli looks up from the novel he’s invested his time in when he feels a light tug on his sleeve and smiles at you kindly. “what is it, my love?” his voice is smooth and calming, like the lapping of waves on the shore.

“zhongli, what does this word mean?” you point at a specific section of the book you’re reading and adjusts your hold on it so he can get a better view.

he only needs to spare a single glimpse till he’s figured out the solution to all your complications, so why shouldn’t this be any different. however, he stares at the page in evident confusion. “i’m afraid i can’t offer you a definition of what the word ‘mimsy’ means."

you shrug your shoulders in understanding. “fair enough. the story is rather nonsensical, perhaps illogical at times, if i may add.” the geo archon nods tenderly, grasping your hand in his.

“then, do you find our relationship to be ‘rather nonsensical’?” zhongli murmurs softly. you never did expect you would end up dating an immortal, but life is full of surprises, as the saying goes, and it’s applicable to yours.

“it should, but for some reason, i think it makes perfect sense!”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #albedo x reader #albedo

[barbarianprncess]

of these rushing waves

(you’ll be the oxygen i breathe)

A week after the Titan War, Annabeth is drafting a temple to Hestia when the weight of being the only person in the world that knows Percy's weak spot hits her.

Like. Really hits her.

(or 2k words of annabeth discovering what she means to percy)

(the biggest of shout outs to @timelesslords for helping me make this coherent, and to @colorguardfreak97 for encouraging me every step of the way. enjoy <3)

read on ao3

A week after the Titan War, Annabeth is drafting a temple to Hestia when the weight of being the only person in the world that knows Percy's weak spot hits her.

Like. Really hits her.

And after about a day and a half freaking out about what it means and what she should do about it, she decides to go talk to him.

(Because not talking to him about what was bothering her led to the worst year of her life. Progress.)

They’re sitting on the beach, sharing Percy’s too small blanket- they both know he has bigger ones, but it’s an excuse to be almost on top of each other. She’s curled up resting on his chest, and he has one hand secured on her waist tracing patterns on her thigh, the other tangled in her curls. They watch the sunset and Annabeth is almost perfectly content.

Almost.

“How did you know?” The words tumble out of her without context.

He shifts to face her and raises an eyebrow. Annabeth finds it unfairly attractive.

“Know what?”

“When you told me your weak spot. How’d you know I could handle it?” The unspoken ‘because I don’t think I can handle it ’ must be apparent enough because Percy’s expression softens.

“Have you been worrying about this?”

Annabeth’s first impulse is to brush it off and change the subject. But then she hears Silena’s voice in her head: tell him how you feel. So she ducks her chin and forces the words out.

“Well yeah, I mean it kinda freaks me out that I just have this power over you. I don’t trust myself.”

Percy tilts her chin with featherlight fingers and an unadulterated fondness her seven year old self would kill to be on the receiving end of.

“I trust you enough for the both of us,” he said.

“How are you so sure about this?” ‘How are you so sure about me?’

He gives her a ‘duh’ look that she’s so used to giving him, it's a bit shocking to be on the opposite end of it. She decides immediately she doesn’t like it.

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t, hence me asking you why.”

She's watched Percy's face morph to pure amusement. He chuckles, and hesitates. “Well, because...”

He trails off clearly thinking about how to word his answer. As he thinks it over she allows herself to look at him properly.

He’s beautiful. Sharp jawline, defined cheekbones, devastatingly symmetrical features. His eyes are deep and content, looking out at the sea as if it has the answer he’s looking for. He can’t seem to find what he wants amongst the waves, but his eyes meet hers and the words seem to come to him.

“It’s you, Annabeth.”

He says it like it answers not only her question but thousands of others. It does neither.

“What’s me, Annabeth?” She attempts at light-hearted sarcasm despite her impatience.

He looks at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes and she knows that look. She hates that look. That look means she’s not getting an answer anytime soon.  

“Oh my gods, you really don't know?”

She glares daggers.

He smiles winningly. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” She bites at his shoulder in retaliation.

“You’re the smartest person I know-” Percy starts.

“True, but flattery will get you nowhere-” Annabeth cut him off.

“So figure-’ He presses a kiss to her temple.

“It-’ A kiss to her left cheek.

“Out.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but he kisses her before she can get out the words. And His knuckles are gentle under her chin, and he smells like ocean breeze, and his lips are chapped yet achingly soft, and he tastes like home. Annabeth resigns herself to find out what he means later, and allows herself to get lost in him and saltwater and home.

...

She digs up every legend about the curse of Achilles she can find. She scours Daedales’s laptop until it runs out of battery. She didn’t even know that was possible.

She researches.

And researches.

And nothing.

She has no idea what he means. Annabeth famously hates not knowing.

And. Percy. Won’t. Budge.

She has tried every trick in the book. She tried baking blue cookies (she burned them), refusing to kiss him till he tells (she caves), and asking Grover to get it out of him (something about the bro-code).

Everytime she asks him he just looks at her with his dopey, baby-seal love eyes and says those same two words.

“It’s you.”

She hates him.

...

It’s three more days before she figures it out.

Nico is looking at her skeptically. His all black get-up makes it so he almost blends in with shadows of the Big House’s basement.

“You need my help?” He deadpans, leaning against the wall looking almost bored.

“Sort-of,” Annabeth shifts on her feet,  “So, I know you were the one who took Percy to the River Styx, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well he’s explained to me bits and pieces about how the curse works, and told me where his… you know… spot is.”

“Ok.”

“So my question is-” Annabeth stopped short. “Wait doesn’t that surprise you at all?”

He shrugs noncommittally, “Not really, no. You were saying?”

Annabeth clears her throat and soldiers on.

“Uh yeah. Right, well it sorta freaked me out how readily he told me about it and I asked how he knew I could handle it and he just said ‘it’s me’. And he refuses to elaborate, and it’s kind of killing me so, do you know what that means? And if you do, could you please explain?”

She’s been staring at her shoes while she rambles on and when she looks up she sees…

Is that humor in his eyes?  

“So, I'm guessing you've done your research on the curse?” She nods. “So you know that when Achilles mother dipped him in the Styx, she held him up by his ankle, which then became his mortal point.”

“Like a sort of anchor.”

“Exactly. Now what the legends don’t mention is that the mortal point wasn’t just the ankle. When his mother pulled him out she became part of his mortal point. Still with me?”

“Not really.”

“Perfect. Going in on your own is no different. You still need someone to help you out of the river, just not physically. You need to picture someone pulling you out, someone to motivate you, someone to bring you back to earth.”

He looks up at her, silently asking permission to continue. Annabeth nods with urgence.  

“It's not just someone who can keep you mortal, but the one person that makes you want to stay mortal. That person and your weak spot become intertwined.” He looks up at her and must still see traces of confusion.

“Your mortal point isn’t just the point of your body that’s unaffected by the River Styx, It’s the person in your life that you saw that gave you the strength to survive the Styx at all.”

Oh.

Oh.

“So when he says ‘it’s...He literally means…” She trails off and looks up at Nico. His smirk is patronizing, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“It’s you.”

…

She vaguely recalls thanking Nico for his help, but how she ended up in her bunk staring at the wall is a mystery. Annabeth has never truly understood the word dumbfounded until now.

...

It’s her.

...

By the time she comes to, it's dark out. Annabeth is already grabbing her invisibility cap and pulling on her shoes. She should probably change out of her pajamas, but her urgency to get to Percy outweighs the little vanity she has left in her. Percy has seen her in far worse conditions than messy hair and sleep wear.

Normally she would climb in through his window, but tonight is strictly business. Percy is still up waiting for her like he has been every night since the war ended. His face brightens when his eyes land on her face then immediately scrunch in concern when he sees what must be a manic look in her eye.

“You ok?”

“It’s me.” A whisper- she says it like she can't fully comprehend the words.

“It’s me?” A question- not necessarily for him just unsure.

“It’s me!” An accusation- this time it’s directed at Percy, who smiles with unnecessary pride.

He tugs at her hand and pulls her to sit on the bunk.“You figured it out.”

She’s briefly tempted to explain the whole visit with Nico, but she has other things on her mind.

“That’s how I knew on the bridge. That feeling that you were in danger, even though you hadn’t told me where the spot was, I knew.”

He shrugs, “It would make sense, but to be honest, I actually have no idea.”

She entwines their fingers and he lifts her hand up to press kisses to her knuckles.

“You saved me.” Percy says it soft and reverent, like a prayer.

“On the bridge?”

“No. Well yeah you saved me on the bridge, but I’m talking about the Styx. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. I was burning alive. It was like I was back at Mt. St. Helen’s all over again.”

She feels a swift wave of guilt that she quickly pushes down so she can pay attention to the rest of his words.

“Except instead of the lava being thrown at me, I was dunked in it. And it was ten times hotter. I was drowning.” He laughs mirthlessly, and she squeezes his hand. “I was in so much pain I couldn't remember who I was.”

She knocks her forehead against his, partly to bring him back to reality, partly to remind herself that he did in fact survive to tell her this story.

He looks up at her, green eyes wide with a wonder and reverence she doesn’t believe she deserves.

“Then I heard you. Your voice. I heard your voice and I saw your face and you held out your hand. You didn’t just pull me back. You put me back together. The thought of you put me back together. I took your hand and I survived because of you. You saved me Annabeth.”

Annabeth is stunned into silence.

She has no doubt in her mind that if it were her in the Styx, she would've seen Percy and he would’ve saved her in the same way she saved him. But, it's different hearing it from him. It’s a rare feeling to know that this full-bodied, utter devotion (the kind she feels for him), is mutual. To hear it spoken out loud is almost unheard of.

She doesn’t have the words to articulate the supernova of emotions exploding her chest, so she kisses him. She kisses him with everything she has. Percy kisses her back with the same intensity. Percy’s kisses are safety and contentment and light. He’s so good with words (better with them than she is), and she thinks it translated into the way he kissed. He kisses her like he’s trying to say something--typically some shy declaration of the love that they both know is between them but tiptoe around speaking into existence.

He kisses with his whole body. He clutches at her waist like he couldn’t bear to let go, and she arches her back because she doesn't think she could bear it either. He occupies all five of her senses, the only thing she knows is him. Her hands are buried in his hair. He’s the sun, and kissing him is sunshine personified.

When she finally pulls back, he removes one of the hands gripping at her waist to slip into the junction between her collarbone and her jaw to keep their foreheads together. He keeps pulling her in his orbit, freckles like constellations, breaths mingled like they could survive on kisses and shared oxygen alone.

She thinks she’d like that.

Percy ends up curled on top of her, his head resting in the crook of her neck. One of her hands in his hair, the other on the small of his back like she can protect him with force of will alone.  They fall asleep the way they survive- anchored to each other.

...

#my first fic yall so pls be nice to me lol #rbs are appreciated! #ask box is open for prompts #percabeth #percabeth fic #missing scene #annabeth chase #percy jackson #the last olympian #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #grover underwood #my writing #omg i can use that tag now #fic rec

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #1d fan fiction #1d #one direction #one direction imagine #harry styles angst #eroda #harry styles eroda #all american rejects #give you hell #gives you hell

[appleflavoredkitkats]

Analysis of the “Fundy’s Mind” Stream: A Showcase of Repressed Memories and Repressed Insecurities

i. INTRODUCTION

Hi! This is going to be… something. Funny how I focus on this rather than my research homework, but I have a MASSIVE Fundy brain rot right now and I’d love to share my thoughts on Fundy’s newest stream. Fair warning, I am not the Messiah, so don’t take everything as fact. I’m open to constructive and objective discussions in replies or in DM’s, so feel free to hmu!

All of this is /dsmp and /rp by the way!

Heavy trigger warnings for derealization, parental neglect, neglect in general, self-deprecation, self-neglect, low self-esteem, death, manipulation, abandonment, loneliness, trust issues, torture mention, blood mention, and broken friendships.

Word Count: Approximately 10k.

ii. PRE-LIVESTREAM ASPECTS

Before we begin deep diving into the mind of Fundy, I do want to emphasize two major themes of this stream: 1.) Fundy’s insecurities, especially when it comes to abandonment and trust, and 2.) Fundy’s future predicting abilities. A ton (but not all) of statements uttered by the books and Fundy himself tend to have double meanings that apply to both of these themes. 

We can further discuss the future predicting powers later, but to give a little background on Fundy’s insecurities: Fundy is notorious for heavily depending his self-worth on the recognition other people give him. Despite his immaturity, a lot of Fundy’s character is rooted in being heavily underestimated. This could be observed during the Pet Wars when his safety was constantly being threatened by Sapnap, inevitably making him lose a duel against him. Another way we can see this is through Wilbur’s early treatment of Fundy where he constantly infantilized him because Wilbur believed Fundy was a child incapable of being independent. This caused Fundy to appeal a lot to any type of compliment from any person- it began with Quackity ensuring him that he will gift him a lot of cookies if he votes SWAG2020, then to Schlatt complimenting him to the point that Fundy almost gave up on spying and siding with Pogtopia, then to the Butcher Army where he unhesitantly followed Tubbo and Quackity’s lead no matter how many times they made fun of him. While he revels in any type of recognition given, oftentimes, those who seem to care for Fundy tend to leave after he grows attached to them; first with Wilbur, then Niki, then Schlatt, then Eret and Phil, then Tubbo, Ranboo, and Quackity. In the Dream SMP, Fundy is very lonely and has dealt with abandonment issues left and right, but typically, he never does anything with his loneliness, as the last time he lashed out against someone who left him, nothing positive really came out of it (this is when he got mad at Ghostbur). 

(Everything else is under the cut! I worked so hard on this, so please read it if you can, it’d mean a lot!)

So, with all that laid out, I want you to keep this all in mind as it is important for understanding why Fundy feels the way he does in the stream.

Now, let’s begin the analysis. First off, I believe it is important to denote the title and the tags of the stream. The stream is titled “Fundy’s Mind”, so we have to denote that this isn’t merely a dream sequence- the stream is meant to explore the complexity of Fundy’s mind. This includes his thoughts, insecurities, repressed memories, and so on and so forth. Additionally, the stream is tagged “Permadeath”, something different from what Fundy typically tags his streams. There is no clear explanation as to what this could mean, but the possibilities are:

It is hinting that the death system in the Dream SMP could be rigged, and someone is messing with the semantics of death and how it works.

It is hinting that someone will face a permanent death, and most fingers are pointed at Fundy as this is his stream. If not a permanent death, he might at least lose one of his canon lives which was hinted later on in the stream (will discuss later).

It is hinting that he was killed by the end of the dream. Not really a solid theory as we don’t actually know the repercussions of killing someone who is actively dreaming, but it is a possibility.

iii. PROLOGUE

A thing to question at the beginning of the stream is if the entire introduction was part of the dream or not. Seeing how Fundy has the same inventory from this to the next scene, it is plausible, but I don’t think it provides anything if it were a dream. 

Anyway, other things to denote are Fundy’s hotbar! First noticeable thing would be the 38 baked potatoes. The website angelnumber.org explains that 38 means:

“The combination of these two numbers makes the number 38 a number which signifies joy and optimism, courage, finding creative ways to materialize abundance, reality, etc.

The essence of the number 38 in numerology are different kind of relationships, such as romantic ones, business partnerships, teamwork, cooperation, diplomacy, etc.

Number 38 people have a talent for dealing with people in a caring and creative way. They are born team-workers. They need interaction with other people to fully enjoy their lives. They are usually optimistic and have a gift of inspiring others to action.”

So far, the number 38 is viewed to be positive. It signifies financial success and cooperativeness, which is interesting if Fundy’s future arc potentially ties to working with Quackity. To further add onto symbolisms regarding success, dreamastromeanings.com says the following:

“If you dreamed of baking or roasting potatoes, that dream is a good sign. It usually indicates your finances increasing over time.

Possibly you have made some investments and now you are beginning to reap the fruits of your efforts and risky activities.”

or,

“If you dreamed of holding a potato in your hand, that dream is a bit of a warning. You might soon receive some lucrative opportunity, possibly work related.

It is advisable to think fast and accept it because you might not get a second chance.

It could also indicate that you are a bit lazy when it comes to taking chances and missing opportunities because of that.”

Both explanations refer to business opportunities and possible investments. If we combine both the explanation for the number 38 and carrying potatoes, we can assume that Fundy will be receiving a business opportunity that would be too good to miss. These explanations also imply that nothing too negative would occur, but instead, Fundy can achieve success through this business opportunity. The only arcs in the Dream SMP which I think could provide a business opportunity would either be 1.) a new warden at the prison, 2.) new member at Snowchester (low odds), but the most likely occurrence would be 3.) Quackity offers him a position at Las Nevadas. With the Quackity smiley face at the end of Fundy’s stream, we can safely believe that the job opportunity at Las Nevadas would be the most likely occurrence.

Another explanation for this is that because the 38 potatoes were brought from the seemingly real world, it could possibly pertain to something that had already happened in the past. This could possibly allude to L’Manberg, especially when the explanations behind 38 potatoes are presented to be more positive, something the current Las Nevadas arc isn’t.

Second thing to notice about the hotbar: Fundy is currently at level 5, with his EXP bar 1/18 filled. To reach level 5, one has to gain 55 EXP, and to reach level 6, one would need to gain an extra 17 EXP. If the bar is merely 1/18 filled, 1/18 of 17 would be 0.94, which when rounded off, is 1. Add 1 to the extra 55, and we would approximately get 56 EXP. The website angelnumber.org says the following:

“The number 56 symbolizes teamwork, coexistence, family, relationships, adventure and expression of freedom.

Number 56 people have diverse interests, some of which they have an in-depth knowledge of and some just general understanding.

They try different approaches in relationships, trying to keep them alive. If everything they’ve tried fails, they simply walk to another relationship.”

This could mean a lot of things. The second sentence could imply that Fundy doesn’t fully comprehend the complexity of his mind. Some parts, he may understand, some, he does not at all. This could imply that there are also more secrets hiding in his mind that we couldn’t get to see. The third sentence is more interesting as Fundy’s entire character arc involves him and his broken relationships with other people. It’s a quite accurate description of Fundy, describing how he desperately tries anything to make a relationship work, and if it fails, he could easily befriend other people even if there is a possibility that that relationship would fail like the previous. 

If we ignore the number of EXP, we can merely focus on the number 5, which means the following:

“When angels are sending you number 5, they want to encourage you to have hope and to be ready to accept all the changes that are coming. Also, if number 5 has appeared just at the moment when you have been thinking about something important in your life, this number could be the answer or the solution for your problems. You should pay attention to number 5 and think of its secret meanings.

If number 5 keeps appearing by your side, it means that changes are already happening in your life. If they have not happened yet, don’t worry. They are on the way and you will feel them in the next couple of days or weeks.”

This can be connected to both the EXP number and the stream as a whole as Fundy begins to accept the gravity of his abandonment issues instead of suppressing his negative feelings towards it. Throughout the stream, Fundy is shown rejecting the idea that he is being neglected by others, but by the second half of the stream, he rejects it less and less. This could be the change the explanation is referring to as Fundy realizing his negative feelings towards his abandonment issues are valid and he needs to take them more seriously rather than brushing them aside. 

With number symbolisms finally aside, we can begin analyzing the actual sequences! Fundy is seen to be approaching his “Not A Secret” Base with a sigh, asking chat if they can go to sleep so that he can go to sleep too. Fundy immediately doubts the possibility of the others in the server following through his request until Ranboo responds with a simple “okay” while Niki responds with “yiss, am asleep”. Fundy quickly flashes the members list on the screen, showing us that only Niki and Ranboo are online on the server before he showcases his new bed, claiming that he likes it.

Two interesting notes about this: 1.) he decides to sleep, which is odd enough in the Dream SMP, and 2.) him having three new beds despite only using one of them. For the first point, I’d like to refer you to what Fundy said at around 26:08:

“I just gotta sleep and then, it’s gonna disappear! And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’, and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys…! You’re always pranking me, you’ve always been there for me. Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most.’ I just go to bed, I just go to bed, and none of this ever happened.”

While I understand that he is referring to the dream, I also believe that this statement would be one of those types I mentioned earlier that may have a double meaning. While “I just go to bed,” could refer to him wanting to sleep and wake up from this horrific dream, it could also refer to how he easily shuts down to his abandonment issues and goes to bed instead of handling it head first. Knowing this, him going to bed in the first scene could imply that he is in this type of  abandonment predicament, especially when we connect it to the second point. The color orange is meant to represent joy and warmth, and even without the symbolism, we all know orange is Fundy’s favorite color. He sees these three beds and says that he likes them, but I can’t help but feel like the other two beds are meant for two other people. I don’t think Niki and Ranboo being the only other two people on the server is coincidental; they have to relate to the two extra beds in some way.

Niki and Ranboo are two prime examples of close friends Fundy had before breaking off after a misunderstanding. Niki fought with Fundy after he had to burn the flag she made in order to gain Schlatt’s trust, while Fundy fought with Ranboo after Doomsday when they had conflicting beliefs about neutrality and sides. After both incidents, Fundy never really made his way to apologize, but Fundy has awkwardly met up with these two after a certain point. With Niki, he was forced to team with her at the beginning of the November 16th War, joking around with her and Eret, while for Ranboo, Fundy had to talk to him and Philza when they were joking around in the SMP. The meet ups definitely relieved some tension, but it never fully resolved the conflict Fundy had with both characters, so there was never a chance for him to rekindle the close bonds he had with both Ranboo and Niki in the past.

Fundy going to his favorite beds with two extra spots next to him could represent how he does cherish the friendships he shared with Niki and Ranboo, but never has the guts to actually bring back things the way that they were before. So, instead, Fundy sleeps, not wanting to think about them any further.

iv. FIRST DAY

When he wakes, Fundy checks his inventory before exiting his base, saying “Uhm, I don’t actually-” until he cuts himself off once he spots the desert. I don’t actually know what Fundy was supposed to say here, but because he checked his inventory beforehand, I believe he was trying to say “I don’t actually know where my things are,” but I could be wrong. To be fair, this isn’t too important, so we don’t have to focus on that. What we can focus on is the misplaced desert that was obviously not there before Fundy slept. We can easily infer what deserts could symbolize in dreams, especially when it comes to loneliness and the feeling of being deserted, but for better insight, consider what dreamstop.com claims about deserts:

“A dream of a desert is about something that is devoid of any feelings or care for you. It is all about them and nothing about you. Does someone show you a lack of respect? Is there someone or something in your life you dislike and adds no meaning to your life? Do you feel invisible? That no-one cares about you? Deserts represent an empty, barren place you may be trying to fill.

Desert dreams may appear when a relationship or friendship breaks down, or when you feel totally alone. You may have moved recently and have not yet made friends. You may feel homesick for all you left behind.

Being lost in a desert refers to your feelings that a situation is hopeless. You may have a problem you feel no-one cares about, even though you tried to reach out. You may feel there was no support and are feeling hurt and alone.”

You don’t need much analyzing to connect these meanings to what Fundy is experiencing. The setting of a “desert” merely pads the idea of Fundy being incredibly lonely to the point of him believing that he has nothing left to lose. Back in Doomsday, he was an optimistic nihilist, claiming that he doesn’t care much about what occurs from this point onwards as long as he can have a little bit of fun. On the stream where he created the Cube, he claimed that most people hated him anyway, so the least he could do was to make himself so hateable so other people could unite together in their hatred of Fundy even if it meant Fundy would have no companions left. Let it be known: Fundy is incredibly, incredibly lonely, and he is miserable in his loneliness, especially when his self-worth depends on how much people recognize him.

Another thing this desert could be eluding to would be Las Nevadas as it is set in the desert. I do think the desert’s main purpose is to showcase Fundy’s loneliness, but the connection to Las Nevadas is plausible.

Additionally, the dark skies Fundy sees doesn’t really need much of an explanation either. I couldn’t find a website exactly defining what it means to find a dark sky, but most of them speak of it as a negative thing, often symbolizing something terrible to come. I don’t think I need to explain that part, so we’re moving on.

Fundy is, understandably, very confused about this entire predicament. He quickly moves around his base to figure out what is going on, even messaging in chat to see if anyone would respond. Climbing up the ladders, he stands atop his base, spotting the silhouette of the Camarvan from afar. He continues to be confused, claiming he has no idea why he’s here in the first place. He claims he is “freaking out”, continuing to ask questions about where he is, and why the sky turns dark. He denotes that he isn’t at least completely alone as bunnies swarm around the desert. He begins to follow this sandstone path, every few blocks or so passing a fence with a torch stood atop it.

Here, we can infer that Fundy seems to have never seen this place before, or has no recollection of it entirely. Fundy doesn’t seem to be immensely freaked out just yet, especially since he hasn’t asked any questions about how no one is there, mostly focusing on his location and asking what the place is about.

Fundy then asks why the van is here, then zooms in on the nametags he sees at the back of the van. It is notable that something nametagged “Fundy” is shorter than another thing that is nametagged “WilburSoot”. Fundy tries to reach out for them but is unable to enter the van.

We can easily infer that this scene was meant to represent Fundy’s childhood in L’Manberg when he was being taken care of by Wilbur. Despite the lack of silhouettes, we can easily determine that Fundy is young in this scene because of how his nametag is in a much lower position next to Wilbur's, implying that whoever owns that nametag is much shorter. We can denote that by the beginning of the L’Manbergian Revolutionary War, Fundy was, in fact, a child. 

Another question some of you might ask: why is the Camarvan here in the first place? While I believe it could be representative of the part of Fundy’s mind that tackles past memories, I do think it also serves another purpose which I will explain later.

Moving on to the next scenes, Fundy continues following the sandstone path while typing in chat, asking if anyone was actually there. He gets confused by the path for a moment, wanting to go to the ominous building, before realizing that the path does connect to the building, it just swerves a little to the left.

It is notable that when Fundy cried out for help, he doesn’t call for a name in specific-  he calls out for ANYONE. The fact that he is calling out for “anyone” could denote that he doesn’t have any close friends or family members he would want to specifically call out for. 

Continuing on, Fundy follows the path to the building, still very immensely confused about where he is. Opening the door, he sees that the inside descends into an underground room with its flooring made out of chiseled quartz blocks. Fundy gets scared at first, immediately closing the door, looking back in, and going back out once more.

Fundy denotes that there is absolutely nothing out here as he walks around the building. He then gains the courage to descend the staircase, wondering what it is, and at the bottom, there are a lot of misplaced sandstone blocks with small lights illuminating at certain corners. The path leads to the left, showing 10 pieces of red carpet on the floor, and 8 pieces of yellow carpet on the table. He approaches the wooden table before looking to his right, spotting a skull on the floor next to a piece of redstone, which I believe is meant to resemble blood.

I don’t think we really need to research a skull to check what it might represent, but my theory so far as to what the skulls mean in each building would be that it’s meant to represent Fundy losing a canon life. I don’t know if this was intentional, but the corner room where the skull is somewhat reminds me of the Final Control Room with the redstone in the middle representing the button. That is, after all, where Fundy lost his first canon life. 

One of the theories I subscribe to is that the skulls in these buildings are meant to foreshadow Fundy’s death before he ever reaches it. Earlier in the day, we saw Fundy pass by the Camarvan with a younger Fundy which could possibly imply that they haven’t gotten to Eret’s betrayal yet, but the skull creeping up at the corner could represent that it is, in fact, coming. How this ties in to the entire future predicting thing, I will explain later, but for now, keep an eye out on the skulls.

Terrified of the skull, Fundy opens the chest and hesitantly picks up the book and quill inside of it. He opens it and is introduced to another Fundy writing to himself. Other Fundy claims that they’re not exactly the same person, but this Fundy is a part of the real Fundy. Other Fundy claims that Fundy cannot trust this place as it is not real, then begins saying that Fundy himself is not real repeatedly. Fundy’s heart rate suddenly increases when he sees the words “wake up” appear slowly in the book, and after page 34 is shown, Fundy wakes up to a new day in the dream world. 

First thing to denote is that the book has 87 pages, and 87, according to affinitynumerology.com means as follows:

“The numerology number 87 is a number of family, organization, and prosperity.

It's also a number of harmony and idealism, the ideal generally related to a harmonious and prosperous family relationship.

87 has parental instincts. It assumes responsibility for the welfare of others it considers to be family.”

The explanation implies that Fundy longs for family and cares deeply for those who he considers as his family. As much as he hated Wilbur after he died, Fundy still continuously expressed how much he needed Wilbur to be there. He is absolutely attached to anyone who poses as a possible family member, especially to those who he views as parents or guardians. Even outside of Wilbur, he is still practically attached to Phil, even if Phil refuses to consider Fundy as family. Fundy also got immensely angered by Eret when she didn’t show up to sign his adoption papers. I’d even say his attachment to family would even reach people like Sally and Schlatt. Fundy has a tendency of casually talking about Sally, and whenever a character talks about eating salmon, Fundy becomes deeply offended. For Schlatt, Fundy kept Schlatt’s netherite sword after he died, considering it to be an “heirloom”, something that only gets passed down onto different generations of the same family. Fundy is incredibly attached to the sword, and whenever he loses it, he’s absolutely desperate to get it back. As much as Fundy gets abandoned, he still deeply appreciates a lot of his family.

87 is also very reminiscent of one of the books in the Inbetween. A lot of the phrasing in the books are actually quite similar to the Inbetween, but we aren’t sure if Fundy and the Inbetween are directly affecting each other or if these places merely work in similar ways. The main similarity between Fundy and the Inbetween is that it involves something related to time travelling, so the similarities could be pointing towards that rather than imply that Fundy is directly affecting the Inbetween all together.

Secondly, the book stops at Page 34. The website angelnumbers.org express the following:

"Most likely you are leaving your projects unfinished because of fear for their destiny after you finish them.

Will they be rejected or accepted by others?

Because you would rather not find out that and possibly have your ego hurt, you consciously or subconsciously sabotage your work and leave things unfinished.

When this number starts appearing in your life frequently, it is a reminder to acknowledge you have a problem and start dealing with it.”

This is very reminiscent of the paragraph I made earlier discussing Fundy’s relationship with Ranboo and Niki- and this could honestly apply to any other relationships Fundy has as well. Besides Fundy’s relationships, this explanation could apply to Fundy’s hesitance of finding out the truth of his mind. Earlier on in the streams, Fundy is immensely confused about the dream, not wanting to discover its truths at all. This eventually changes on the third day, but we’ll discuss that in a bit.

Another thing I’d like to discuss would be the identity of the book authors and why they wrote the books the way they did. I’ll explain about this more in-depth later, but I do believe that another Fundy is, indeed, writing these books. As this was set in Fundy’s mind, it’s quite impossible for anyone who isn’t Fundy to be meddling with the books. What we can denote, though, is the reason as to why these books were created in the first place. The book itself seems to be harmless at first, quite inviting towards Fundy in the first few pages, but once it had to introduce what this world is, it seemed to hesitate. There were a couple of disjointed pages, as well as blank pages, before it began claiming the world wasn’t real, and that Fundy wasn’t real. It turned a complete 180, which seemed to be very odd to me. In past events of the Dream SMP, derealizing statements like this tend to be tricks of the mind, but these statements seem to be intentionally put there by those who wrote the book, especially since later on, we see another book completely give up on saying these triggering statements, saying that “It’s not going to work.” (32:05). 

What this implies is that whoever placed these statements are attempting to scare Fundy in some way, possibly heightening his insecurities and terror so that he can be truly terrified of the place. The constant statements of “you are not real” may not only refer to the Other Fundy trying to make Fundy spiral downwards in derealization, but it might actually represent how neglected Fundy feels to the point of feeling invisible, to the point of feeling that he “isn’t real”. But why is this Other Fundy trying to scare Fundy, and who, specifically, is the person behind the writings, you might ask? This question will be answered later on when we go more in-depth with the other books, as the bigger picture is very much needed instead of explaining it all by the first book.

v. SECOND DAY

Fundy wakes up in his base once more, evidently confused. We don’t really know why he wakes up in his base, and why the world changes every time he wakes up, but let’s just say this is all part of his dream to make sense out of it. This time, he sounds more broken, and definitely more unhinged. He calls out for any other member in the chat, telling them that whatever they’re doing is not funny. This is the first we see of Fundy believing that the others may actually just have been pulling a prank on him. He opens his chests frantically before venturing outside once more. He claims that he doesn’t believe the book, saying that this dream sequence feels pretty real to him. 

This time, Fundy puts a bigger emphasis on asking why he is alone, and why nobody seems to be here with him. Fundy seems to be more shaken up by the idea that he’s alone over the idea that he does not know anything about where he is at all. He approaches the van, and when he zooms in, he sees that Wilbur’s nametag disappeared. 

Transcript of this following scene:

“I knew you were there. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no- you can’t fool me! No, I knew you were there Wil. You were there, right there! Where did you go? Are you being- he’s being funny. This is funny! This is great. Aw, this is amazing- it’s just a prank! It’s April Fools soon- that’s why! Oh, I’m just being pranked… right?”

Now, this was… sad. This is one of the other statements that could have a double meaning. Fundy insisting that Wilbur is supposed to be there could not only be him comparing this day to the previous, but it could also imply his true feelings towards Wilbur, especially since he’s disappeared for a good portion of Fundy’s life. Fundy believes Wilbur is supposed to be there for him, but the reality is that he wasn’t. Instead of facing reality, Fundy concludes that all of this was a harmless joke instead of believing that Wilbur might have possibly left him.

Fundy attempts to enter the van once more, but his attempt doesn’t work. He then follows the path on the side directing to the ominous building only for him to realize that it has gotten closer.

The building getting closer to the main base actually has a lot of symbolism behind it. The building itself stores a lot of secrets, especially when it comes to the truths about this world and the different insecurities Fundy has repressed. Those writing the books have laid out all these secrets in every single book found in this building. The fact that it’s underground is meant to represent that these secrets are meant to be hidden in the depths of Fundy’s mind, but the fact that the building is getting closer to the main base makes it feel like 1.) the stored secrets about this world that Fundy may have forgotten about might finally seep into his consciousness, making him aware of them next time he wakes up, and 2.) the insecurities Fundy repressed deep down are seeping out more and more as it reaches the main core. Once it’s there, Fundy won’t be able to reject the truth about his abandonment issues any longer.

Fundy nears the building, still quite nervous. He opens the door, and the layout of the inside seems to be slightly similar to the previous day, but there are small details here and there that are different. Instead of 10 red carpets, there are 6, and instead of 8 yellow carpets, there are 6. Additionally, the skull seems to be closer, this time directly next to the table.

While the carpets were quite subtle, I do think it symbolizes a certain decrease of something. Red symbolizes the color for passion and love, while yellow is meant to represent happiness and positivity. Earlier, we saw that Wilbur disappeared from the Carmarvan, so the decrease of rugs for each color could represent Fundy’s love and happiness decreasing.

For the skull itself, I don’t know if I’m right, but this is what I infer from it: On the first day, we saw that Wilbur was still standing next to Fundy in the Camarvan as the first skull underground was still very far away. On the second day, when Wilbur was gone, the skull got closer, standing next to the table instead of it being far away. I theorize that if the skull is closer, then a canon death has already occurred in the time period the day wants to present. The first day presents a time where Wilbur was still taking care of Fundy, so Eret’s betrayal may not have happened yet, hence why the skull merely stayed hidden at the corner. On the second day, Wilbur has actively left Fundy, similar to the period after L’Manberg’s independence when Fundy had to partake in the Pet Wars alone. During that era, the betrayal has already happened, which is why I believe the skull is much closer this time. 

Continuing on, Fundy opens the book and begins reading. From this point onwards, I do want to go more in depth with each of the books, so I’ll put transcripts here and there with my thoughts added onto it after each transcript.

“Hi me!

Welcome back!

Yeahh, second time here? or third?

not entirely sure”

So, this is confirmation that this might not be the first time Fundy’s having dreams like this. A good question to ask is if the book was written a long time ago and has presented itself the same way it does right now, or if this book was written recently. I don’t think the stream gave a definitive answer, but it is something to keep in mind.

“Listen to me Fundy

and you should trust me because,

well you know why

There are two things you can do right now

Walk back to your base, jump in bed, fall asleep, and you will wake up as if nothing ever happened

Or you can keep reading…

And I will tell you what I know”

The book pauses for a bit then continues saying “You are not real” ten times, “You dont want to know the truth” fifteen times, and spams “WAKE UP” until the 38th page, a number we analyzed earlier because of the 38 baked potatoes. 

For the book itself, whoever is writing the book seems to be a bit hesitant when writing. It doesn’t seem to want to explain what this place truly is to Fundy, and as much as it clarifies that they are, indeed, Fundy, they never expound on how they were able to write these books and why Fundy should trust him. Other Fundy saying “you should trust me because, well you know why” is actually quite ominous, and I can only think of two reasons as to why they would say it: 1.) Other Fundy is implying that Fundy can trust him because he is, in fact, the same person, or 2.) Other Fundy is hinting that Fundy trusts too easily as seen with the people Fundy trusted in the real world.

Additionally, the Other Fundy seems to emphasize on the fact that they WANT Fundy to go to sleep and wake up in the overworld. They phrase it so that sleeping once more is the more logical option, while they basically scare Fundy with the other option, evident by his quickened heartbeat. The Other Fundy seems to know about the intricacies of this dream and its world, but seems to be very hesitant to tell Fundy about it. The continuous threats imply that the Other Fundy doesn’t want Fundy to know the truth at all.

Basically, this Other Fundy knows something, something our Fundy doesn’t know about, and wants to emphasize that it is something horrific. He will do whatever he can do so that he can stop Fundy from knowing the truth, even if it means he has to scare Fundy.

Additionally, to me, it feels like “WAKE UP” could possibly have two meanings. If the underground structure is meant to represent things that Fundy constantly represses to the back of his mind, not only would the secrets of his dream reside there, but his own repressed insecurities may reside there as well. The way Fundy treats the truth about his dreams is actually quite similar with the way he treats his insecurities- he tends to reject its existence and pretend that everything is normal. This dream isn’t just a dream, it’s an exploration of Fundy’s mind, and telling Fundy to “WAKE UP” doesn’t just refer to not knowing the truths about the dream, but it could also refer to Fundy not knowing the truths about his own insecurities hidden deep in the depths of his mind. 

vi. THIRD DAY

Fundy wakes up, breathing heavily. He paces around his room before opening the door frantically, seeing that he is still stuck in a desert. He begins to laugh, repetitively telling himself that all of this is a “joke”. He continues questioning why he’s still in this dream, and when he opens the door, he sees the ominous structure observably closer to the base. He claims that he’s actually stressing out, and Fundy goes on a tangent about this dream and reveals a bit about his insecurities:

“They’re toying with me, they’re toying with me. They’re actually- everyone is toying with me- they are ALWAYS TOYING WITH ME. Everyone is! I’m always being played with. Why? Why always me- no! Why does it always have to be me? Every single time. I don’t wanna- (sigh). I don’t wanna keep dealing with this- I just wanna- no- do I just… Do I just… Do I just go up here and listen to- wai- okay. The book said I have two options: I can wait here until it’s night time. Wait until the sun sets and I can go to sleep, and when I go to sleep and wake up, none of this is real. None of this is gonna- it’s gonna disappear. None of this is real, none of this is real, none… It’s not real, it’s not real, I am currently not real, this is no- how is this possible? How is this- wha- how did- how… None of this is real. I am not real. All I have to do is wait for midnight and just sleep, and all of this would end, right? All I have to do is… wait until night time and then… it’s all gonna be over, it’s all gonna be done. 

I just gotta sleep, and then, it’s gonna disappear. And then everyone is gonna appear out of a bush and they’re gonna be ‘Surprise!’ and I’m gonna be like, ‘You guys! You’re always pranking me… you’ve always been there for me (sniffs). Every single time… except sometimes… when I needed you the most. I just go to bed… I just go to bed, and then I wake up, and none of this ever happened. And we’re gonna go back to my old life where I have fun and join parties and join groups and only see them disappear in front of my eyes as I start to get attached to them. Y-yeah, that’s- that’s- that’s the choice I’m making. Go back to that... (sigh). Just… or you know…”

LOTS to unpack here, and I’ll go one by one explaining certain aspects of this because it’s not just something that showcases Fundy’s insecurities.

Firstly, interesting how Fundy believed that the book was toying with him like how a lot of other people do. That’s what makes him afraid of the book- the feeling of being pushed around. The book is actively trying to use Fundy’s insecurities against him in order to make him more and more afraid of the truth. This is interesting because Fundy is known to be ignorant towards his actual issues (just look at his monologue), but the Other Fundy seems to be acutely aware of them. I will explain why he is aware of them later on.

Secondly, this is the most observable point, Fundy seems to be aware that he is quite frankly, alone, but tends to ignore it. He copes with his abandonment issues by treating his abandonment like a joke. He believes that every single person who’s left him did it as a prank. Even if he laughs at this idea, he is also evidently hurt by it. It hits even harder when you realize that Fundy is quite the dependent character, often sucking up to any person who gives him recognition. If Fundy depends on others to dictate his self-worth, how do you think he thinks of himself right now when he literally has nobody?

Putting emphasis on Fundy’s loneliness is going to be interesting because I do think some characters in future arcs are going to exploit that. If Quackity is going to use and manipulate Fundy the same way Sam does, then there would be no doubt that he will use Fundy’s loneliness against him. Even if it’s not Quackity who approaches Fundy first- even Bad, Sam, Dream, anyone, really, could use Fundy’s loneliness against him, which will make for an interesting plot point.

Lastly, not a lot of people spotted this, but this monologue also gives us insight as to why Fundy continued looking for the truth about his dreams instead of staying in his base and waiting for night. When talking about what to look forward to once he wakes up, he talks about how much “fun” he is going to have. Slowly, you see his denial start to dwindle as he finally admits that people leave him just as he gets attached to them. As much as Fundy wanted to wake up from this horrific dream, he realizes that, once he wakes up, he has nothing to look forward to either. That’s why he hesitates when he says “Yeah, that’s the choice I’m making,” because he realizes waking up isn’t as ideal as it seems. This is why Fundy immediately goes outside afterwards with no hesitation- Fundy has nothing left to lose, hence why he chooses to venture forth. Fundy is driven to do things because he feels like his life is purposeless anyway.

Fundy then begins to head outside quietly, zooming into the ominous building while walking right towards it. He then detours for a moment, walking towards the right of the building, and approaches a giant crater filled with obsidian and blackstone.

The explosion could symbolize two things:

Any of the L’Manberg explosions. With the obsidian and blackstone combination, my guess is that this is either the first Doomsday event (L’Manbergian War of Independence) because of L’Manberg’s walls, or the November 16th War because of Schlatt’s Podium. Why the big amount of blackstone and obsidian? Well, I’m not so sure when it comes to L’Manberg as its walls didn’t have obsidian, but for the November 16th war, I do think that the abundance of blackstone and obsidian is meant to represent how Fundy is reducing the November 16th war to Schlatt’s Podium. This can be alarming as he was the one who made Schlatt’s Podium, so reducing the war to that one building might symbolize that he blames himself for the war.

Another theory, which is the theory I subscribe to more, is that this is actually depicting an event in the future that we haven’t seen yet. Namely, the prison. If you zoom in on the explosion, the block pattern is quite reminiscent of the block pattern present in the prison.

While I’ll mostly discuss Fundy’s future predicting powers later, I do think that there’s a possibility that Fundy saw a vision of the future, unlike the past two days where he saw visions of the past. The prison might possibly be nuked in the future.

Fundy then proceeds to walk back towards the building, repetitively saying “no”. He claims he needs to find out, sounding more determined than before. For this, even if the explosion could represent many things, I do think Fundy is generally reminded of the explosions he had to witness throughout the history of the Dream SMP. Perhaps he believes that finding out the truth could prevent more explosions from occurring, perhaps he figured out that this was the prison and he needed to know why it exploded, perhaps him walking away from something that’s reminiscent of real life represents his choice of wanting to learn more about his dreams rather than sticking to anything similar to real life. 

Moving on, Fundy enters the building, saying he wants to know what’s going on. The underground room seems to have changed a bit, as the chiseled quartz floors changed into quartz bricks. The place also seems to be littered with end stone blocks and bricks. The place is much darker as well, and the carpets on the floor and table seem to be gone entirely. Two skulls can be observed near the table.

My brain actually can’t reason as to why the end blocks were there, or why the quartz blocks changed. My guess is that the end stones will eventually connect to a future plot point relating to the End, but again, I’m not sure. The carpets being gone could represent that the love and happiness (red and yellow) that Fundy had disappeared completely. The dishevelled state of the room could represent that the secrets being held inside this underground room are finally breaking free as its confines tear down more and more. 

Now the skulls- if we go by the theory I presented earlier, then the skulls are meant to represent canon deaths. If the skull was tucked into the corner, then that means death is to come, but if it’s near the table, then I believe the canon death already occurred. If two skulls are next to the table, then it could imply that whatever time period the day is set in should be around the time Fundy loses a second canon death, which hasn’t occurred yet. Again, this is all speculation, so I might be overthinking, but if the explosion is meant to represent the prison getting nuked, then there’s a possibility Fundy would lose a canon life before the prison gets destroyed.

Now, onto the juicy bit: the book. The book reads as follows:

“Hi. again.

...Why are we so persistent

...Why are we so stubborn

...You have been here before, but you keep coming back

...Why?

WHY???

You dont want to know the truth

It will hurt you

I dont want to be hurt again

YOU dont want to be hurt again

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE JUST LEAVE

GO TO BED

FALL ASLEEP

ENJOY YOUR LIFE

ENJOY THE FUN THINGS

THE TRUTH ISNT WHAT YOU WANT

PLEASE

STOP THIS

STOP!!!”

The book tries scaring Fundy by spamming “WAKE UP” across multiple pages.

“It’s not going to work, huh..

Listen to me Fundy…

Your mind is not safe…

You are not imagining this…

This place might not be real…

But he is.

Spare yourself.

I need you to listen carefully.

Do not join him.

Whatever he asks of you.

Do NOT join him.

his plans aren’t as nice as they sound.

his intentions aren’t what you think they are.

he will use you

he will destroy you

everything you ever loved

everyone you ever cared about

do not join him.”

Before I explain this book, I think it’s best to also note down what was said in the next book as well so I can better explain what’s going on.

“note to self

hello

I just wrote this book to remember who I am

To remember what is happening

All the books I just found are indeed written by me

Listen to yourself

You suffer from a very odd illness

You suffer from a form of insomnia, within your own dreams.

Now the effects of this aren’t really known, and even I don’t fully know what is going on.

but let me tell you

somehow, this world, these actions and events, are linked to reality.

things that happen in these so-called “dreams”, tend to leak into the real world

they will actually happen.

you might wonder how exactly this is a bad thing.

the ability to predict certain events from happening, sounds pretty cool.”

Fundy then stops reading the book, seemingly overwhelmed by the influx of information. Analysis time, boys, time to unpack what this all means.

Firstly, I believe that this dream has happened before. Multiple times, actually. If certain “events” in the dream are meant to predict the future, then the moments involving the Camarvan on the first two days could imply that Fundy has seen this place before during the L’Manberg era where he could’ve predicted Eret’s betrayal and the loss of his father. If we think about it, the books could honestly be given to Fundy at any time period and it would work. Look at the entire section of the book describing someone who Fundy can’t trust- this “him” person could honestly be… anyone who abandoned Fundy? If the book hints at someone who might possibly hurt and use Fundy, then Eret, Wilbur, Schlatt, and Dream could also be considered. These people were nice to Fundy at first before betraying him one way or another. There is a possibility that this dream has warned Fundy about these people in the past, only for Fundy to forget about the dream. What about this time though, who is this “him” that’s going to betray Fundy during this time period? Well, the easy answer would be Quackity, but Bad could be a possibility as well. With the hint towards Quackity at the end, I do believe that Quackity would be the main suspect, but it’s also good to keep an open mind as we don’t know much of who Fundy’s involved with in Season 3.

Now, why would Fundy be able to forget about the dreams, though? I do think that whoever is responsible for writing the books are doing their best to prevent Fundy from uncovering the truth. Who do I think are the book authors? Well, I don’t think they were lying when they said that they were Fundy. I believe that, just like the Dream voice in Ranboo’s head, the Fundy that writes books would be some sort of conscience or subconscious in Fundy’s mind. This part of the mind holds certain memories repressed by Fundy, as well as some of the insecurities he chooses to ignore. They are aware of all of Fundy’s past visits of this dream, and they know the dangers of it, which is why they want Fundy to not uncover the truth. 

The signed book claims that whatever Fundy sees in the dream will seep out into reality. Knowing this, I believe Fundy’s subconscious is trying to prevent Fundy from seeking out the truth to prevent these future visions from happening in real life; this especially applies to events that involve Fundy possibly being hurt. There is a possibility that this Fundy has seen past Fundy’s discover events like the Camarvan and the loss of Wilbur occur in dreams way past before it occurred in real life, so they feel afraid that our Fundy would uncover more and more truths that would become reality. While we don’t know if Other Fundy’s beliefs on future predicting is true, this gives us a better understanding of why they want Fundy to go to bed and wake up. (Additionally, the Other Fundy has placed emphasis on saying that the truth may hurt Fundy, so there is a possibility that these future events might involve something that heightens Fundy’s insecurities more. That’s why this Fundy seems to be so aware of Fundy’s insecurities- they have witnessed Fundy’s insecurities being used against him in certain visions.)

For the memory thing, so far, I believe a part of Fundy’s mind is actively suppressing all the memories Fundy has of his dreams. Fundy already represses a lot of his insecurities, so using Fundy’s insecurities against him might actually enable them to keep Fundy’s memories about the dream locked in the corners of his mind. The place where the book is kept in is underground, after all, but we do have to keep in mind that the building is getting closer and closer to Fundy’s main base. This could symbolize that Fundy will remember his dreams more once he wakes up.

So basically, so far, Fundy has dreamt this dream multiple times in the past, and during each dream, he witnesses an event in the future that could possibly happen in real life. Fundy’s subconscious, or possibly past versions of Fundy, are trying to warn future Fundy’s to not uncover too many truths about the dream as they believe this could possibly manifest terrible events to happen in real life. To get Fundy to go back to bed, they try scaring Fundy, using his insecurities against him, only this time, Fundy is a bit more disobedient because, again, he feels like he has nothing left to lose. 

Another theory I have which I’m not 100% sure about is that this Other Fundy, as much as it has good intentions, may have committed a mistake when they tried to get Fundy to bed by using his insecurities. If anything in the dream may happen in real life, them heightening Fundy’s insecurities might pass over to the real world as well. While scaring Fundy could prevent him from uncovering the truth, it might’ve also been a double-edged sword as Fundy is more aware of his insecurities more than ever.

Continuing on, Fundy decided to leave the building, seeing that it’s night time. He sounds relieved knowing that he can sleep and that he can wake up from this dream. He celebrates for a moment, throwing the book away, but then he hesitates, saying he wants to know the truth. He picks the book up again but doesn’t read it immediately, claiming that he could just sleep instead of knowing the truth.

Fundy seems to revel in the idea of waking up for a bit until he mentions how much of a “blast” he can have with everyone once he wakes up. After mentioning this, he immediately picks up the book with no hesitation. This is the second time Fundy is shown to be motivated in finding the truth about his dreams because of him realizing how unfun the real world is. Again, Fundy is seen to be motivated by the fact that he has nothing left to lose, and as much as he is scared of this dream, he seems to prefer finding this world’s truth over going back into the real world where he’s practically alone.

Moving on, the book continues:

“however…

while this might be the case of dreams…

this is also the case for nightmares…

this is your last warning Fundy

please… for the both of us…

just wake up”

This part of the book simply affirms all I’ve theorized about earlier. The Other Fundy hints that some events that Fundy might witness in his dream would be detrimental to Fundy, which is why he doesn’t want Fundy to continue exploring. He knows that Fundy will possibly manifest an event that will ruin him in real life, so he wants Fundy to sleep instead of accidentally manifesting his demise.

vii. FOURTH DAY

Fundy then wakes up once more, complaining that this dream never ends. He goes outside, seeing a black, hooded figure slowly turn around and chase him. With a quickened heartbeat, he runs up his stairs to sleep in a black bed placed on the roof. Fundy screams as we see the hooded figure approach, and the screen fades to black. A white smiley face reminiscent of the one on Quackity’s skin appears on the screen as casino slots sound effects play in the background.

Now, what do I make of this? Well, firstly, we gotta point out that his bed at the end looked EERILY similar to a gravestone. A lot of websites claim that sleeping in a gravestone or seeing a gravestone could indicate change, especially when it comes to overcoming one’s sadness or problems. In a literal sense, we can think of it as something foreshadowing a future canon death, especially if we think that the person chasing Fundy is the grim reaper.

Speaking of that person, I do have a couple of explanations as to who this person is:

The person is death themselves, the grim reaper. This is the common conclusion everyone believes in, especially when we consider this “him” person possibly hurting Fundy, and that second skull in the underground room. Quackity is the main culprit for now, especially with that smiley face in the end, but there could be other possibilities! Like, what if someone takes Fundy’s canon life before he joins Quackity, which is why the smiley face only popped up after Fundy’s dream death? Mayhaps someone affiliated with Quackity might be doing the dirty work for him, so Bad, Sam, Dream, and anyone, really, could be responsible for Fundy’s future canon death. Moreover, the fact that this death occurs affirms the beliefs of the Other Fundy. The Other Fundy merely wants Fundy to be safe from possibly manifesting his demise in real life, but Fundy’s curiosity got the best of him, and in the next sequence, he was killed, proving that the Other Fundy was right in saying that Fundy should’ve just slept.

A theory I made up which I’m not 100% sure of is that this figure is actually Fundy’s subconscious trying to get him to sleep. When Fundy was being chased, we heard a quickened heartbeat, and where was the only other time we heard that? When Fundy was reading the “WAKE UP” and “you’re not real” messages from those books. We can view this as the Other Fundy’s attempt in trying to get Fundy to actually sleep by using another scare tactic against Fundy. And well… it did work! Because Fundy was afraid of this figure, Fundy went to sleep. There is also a possibility that this occurrence is what makes Fundy forget about the dream because his subconscious got a hold of Fundy and forcibly made him forget, but I’m not 100% sure about that one yet.

Lastly, the face! That should already allude to Fundy possibly joining Quackity’s lore, and with the “38 potatoes” symbolizing business opportunities, I expect Fundy to be joining Las Nevadas as a possible employee. Quackity does, in fact, prey on people who are insecure, and can easily get them to do whatever he wants because of his words. If he can get Sam to give him the tools needed to torture Dream, Quackity might exploit Fundy’s loneliness into making him do whatever Quackity wants from him. 

Another face that this could possibly connect to is the face in the Egg lair! While I’m leaning more towards Quackity because of the casino sounds, I do wanna say that the Egg and the Eggpire could possibly be connected as well, especially when the Egg could provide Fundy anything he wants. Just like how Quackity could prey on Fundy’s insecurities, the Egg preys on those who feel like they’re missing something, so as much as Fundy could be manipulated by Quackity, he could also be manipulated by the Egg. Additionally, business opportunities could apply to the Eggpire as well as they’ve contacted Purpled in the past to assassinate Puffy, so who’s to say they won’t try adding Fundy to the Eggpire?

TLDR; This entire stream showcased both Fundy’s insecurities and Fundy’s future predicting powers and how this “Other Fundy”, aka his subconscious, wants him to repress them because they believe that if Fundy uncovers the secrets of his dream more, then Fundy would accidentally manifest his demise in real life. Additionally, Fundy is very lonely, making him vulnerable of being used in the future because he is desperate to get any type of recognition from anybody. In summary, be afraid of Fundy’s future lore streams, be very afraid.

viii. ADDITIONAL NOTES

Even when I finish this, there’s a lot of questions to ask about this stream that I want you to keep in mind:

How many times has Fundy encountered this before?

How does Fundy forget all the information he got from the dreams?

How does Fundy write to himself?

Why is there so many details connected to Karl, and what does it have to do with time travelling?

Why does Fundy return to his bed every time his heartbeat quickens when reading a book?

Was the first scene part of the dream or not?

Could the underground room’s structure actually mean something?

And there’s probably more, but just saying, keep an open mind about this entire stream because there’s definitely a lot more to uncover.

I want to reiterate: I am not the Messiah, so don’t take my word as the truth and the absolute truth. I’d love to hear your thoughts about Fundy’s stream as a lot of it could be up for speculation! The entire thing is filled to the brim with symbolisms, so there could be a lot of interpretations to consider. If you enjoyed this, feel free to like and retweet because I worked my ASS off with this one. 

Special thanks to the following:

Fundy and any of the Dream SMP members because that stream was INCREDIBLE. Go give them your love and support.

kingjem for always being there whenever I want to discuss any ideas I have about the Dream SMP. One of the smartest bitches I know, go follow them.

To all my betas who reviewed this document since I have a TON of grammar mistakes (thanks English): prismartist, bootsforthebootsgod, Finni_june (twt), ender-hyperfocuses-on-things, and Dngertosociety2 (twt)

And to all of you who like this post and would share it to other people! All support is appreciated. :D

#fundy #dream smp #mcyt #long post

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

#tma #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #georgie barker #rosie zampano #tma rosie #tim stoker #meet cute #blind date au #this is my love letter to TMA #prompt answer #fanfic prompt

[hajimeiwaswife]

THE WAY I LOVED YOU

Word count: 4,2K

Wanings: angst (but fluff, too)

Summary: You weren't over the love Childe provided you, even when you were engaged to Albedo years later.

A blue, pink and mauve sky garnished the surroundings of the Stormbearer Mountains. The summery breeze, warm as the light of the bright sun, comforted those who walked along the path of fallen leaves, wild flowers and the smell of mint. A beautiful landscape presented itself for sore eyes to see.

A certain Alchemist was working on his new masterpiece, relaxing under the few rays of light that came with dusk, painting the one he considered the most beautiful person to ever put a foot on Teyvat. Mixing the colours of nature, he portraited on the sketch book the view he had of his fiancée and the scenery, all of it worthy of a cheesy romance novel and a fantasy book.

"How much time do you need?" Y/N asked in a tired tone, trying not to shift her position, "I'm getting crumps on my face from smiling."

The man didn't answer at the moment, considering for a brief time her question and filling a space on the page that still needed his attention. At last, he looked at her and smiled at the image he had the honour of witnessing. The girl, dressed in a summer white and blue dress, was slightly pouting at the lack of talking from his part. Her hair danced with the wind and he thanked Barbatos for letting him see her golden locks fly around her face.

"Just a little more, my love," he answered, his attention shifting back to the drawing in front of him.

"You said that an hour ago," the girl sighed, putting a smile again on her face so she didn't disrupt her lover from painting her, "I thought you wanted to go see Sucrose before the sun came down. Oh! And also, you promised Klee you'd visit her."

He hummed, immersed in the way her features took a hardened expression when she tried to remember something that needed to be done. Brows furrowed and fore finger on her right cheek, she looked at him in search of a comment from the Alchemist.

"Albedo! Are you listening to me?"

"You're so beautiful." mumbled the man, lost in her and the blush that was forming on her visage.

Shameless and, at the same time, honest and shy. That was Albedo, the one she was engaged to. Such an honourable and good man, someone who loved her as much as the Sea loved its waves, as much as the birds loved the Wind, as much as a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire. He gave her his everything and from the bottom of his own person, and she was grateful for it.

"I'm sorry" he promptly said, coughing on his palm to hide the evident embarrassment he felt, "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

At that, she couldn't help but laugh. He was such a beautiful person, always searching her comfort and well-being before anyone else's, always taking care of her and looking for her. A pure soul, she would venture to affirm.

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," Y/N chuckled, positioning once again for him to portray her, "you know I love it when you compliment me. Now, c'mon, finish before the sun falls."

"As you wish."

One more hour of dirtying their hands in paint and observing the marvellous dusk that came upon them, they left to visit Sucrose, who was willing to tell Albedo about her advances in the research they both were working on.

"That's impressive, Sucrose," Albedo praised the girl, reading the documents and correcting those things he found could be improved.

Y/N turned off the conversation, not really interested in the depths of the Alchemy. She respected what the husband to be and her friend did for a life and she couldn't be prouder, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear the endless conversations about properties a flower could have.

After saying goodbye to the little Alchemist, they both headed to say hello to little Klee, who was mad at them for coming so late, it was already her time for bed and, as she said, 'We can't go bomb fishing!', followed by a 'Do you not love Klee?' Reassuring the little bomb crazy kid was more draining than she could imagine, but she did it for Albedo, nonetheless.

The afternoon turned into the late hours of the night, lilac sky was now dark and adorned with stars. The Alchemist had intertwined his fingers with Y/N's, sighing in content, allowing himself to relax at the warmth of her hand and the serenity reigning in Mondstadt.

"Maybe we should head home, you seem exhausted," commented Albedo after watching his fiancée yawn for the third time in ten minutes.

"That would be great, actually." Y/N yawned again, gaining a quiet chuckle from the man next to her.

No one talked again, everything already said until the moment to bid goodnight when they laid in bed. Albedo, being the reserved man he was, kept himself in his side of the bed, not too confident to spoon his girl still.

The silence was only accompanied by Albedo's soft snores. Darkness decorated the walls of the room in the AM. The sense of being trapped growing inside Y/N as she thought of the implications of her new life. She was engaged to an incredible man, who told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her every single day; who went with her on strolls and made her laugh; who could teach her more than she could ever imagine; who appreciated her as she was.

Still, she felt nothing. At all.

She liked Albedo, that was clear. Who wouldn't like Albedo? He was the perfect man. On more than one occasion, Y/N had Amber and Barbara drooling about how lucky she was to be with someone like him. She knew she was the luckiest girl in Teyvat, most women simped over Diluc or Albedo. But, at the same time, she only felt guilt for being with him without actually loving him.

Anxiety growing on her, she decided to stand up. She walked out of the room, being careful not to disrupt Albedo's sleep, and headed to the transport point, she needed to be away from any form of human activity, she felt like shouting and hitting the first thing she could see. Breathing becoming a very tedious task as she approached the device, opting to go to Mt. Aocang. If she was going to wake someone up, she preferred an Adeptus who wouldn't ask more than any nosy human.

The wind, colder than that afternoon, calmed her to the point her lungs could take the oxygen she had been trying to get for minutes. The orange leaves obscured by the night reminded her of the hair she used to love so much. The hair of that man she had once despised, then loved, and then lost.

He, who claimed to be brave enough to enter her heart, had been the one to take it and keep it even until those days. Y/N noticed how her breathing became irregular again, she was used to it, every time she thought about the Harbinger. That repulsive, irresponsible, dishonest, cunning, intelligent and breath-taking man she couldn't forget. How had she let it come so far?

Albedo gave her everything, yet her heart yearned Childe's love. How pathetic.

"Fuck you, Childe!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring for the Adepti, not caring for those who could hear her cursing the Harbinger Tartaglia at 2 a.m. a Thursday night. "You ruined me, you motherfucker!"

So many fights, so many make outs, so much love making, so many nights under the stars trying to comprehend their feelings for the other. All of that for nothing. Like the bitter cold of Snezhnaya they froze, their hearts on their sleeves, light that came from the satellite above turned off.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you don't like me that much." she remembered him saying, his characteristic smirk on his face, "It's true we had our... abrasions, but girlie, c'mon, don't be so stiff."

She could clearly see in her mind how his hands came to her waist, grabbing her in a gentle but at the same time rough grip. A shivered down her spine, in the present and in the pass, and she was sure she would feel it in the future, too.

"How am I supposed to trust you, Harbinger?" she had said, crossing her arms after pulling away from him.

"Easy, trusting me."

And she did. She felt like a fool for allowing him to be so near, to had felt love from him, for loving him.

"Are you feeling okay? You look pale, my love," Albedo commented, a hand of his on the forehead of his lover, a worried expression on his face.

"Yes, Albedo, don't worry, I didn't sleep too well last night," Y/N reassured him, smiling slightly at her fiancé.

The Alchemist hummed, nodding to himself and returning to his work. The girl had returned to their room after a couple of hours in Mt. Aocang, praying for Albedo to not had noticed her absence. Apparently, he didn't. Had he noticed he would had already asked about it, or so she thought.

"I was thinking about visiting Liyue today, there are some materials there I need for my research," Albedo said after some minutes, looking at her, "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

Y/N's heart dropped. She had to say yes, how could she say no to Albedo? He wanted to spend time with her while still working, an effort she really appreciated. But, going to Liyue? What if he was there? Strolling those streets the two of them had travelled a thousand times.

But his gaze was still on her, waiting patiently for a reply. Doubtfully, she considered all her options: not going and upsetting Albedo; going and crossing him; going and being unable to continue due to the memories. No option was good, she had to choose between her fiancé's well-being and hers. 'He's made so any sacrifices for me'.

"I would love to, love."

Merchants selling, people buying, contracts being signed. That was Liyue in all its glory. Red, green and blue being the most recurrent colour themes on the walls, roofs and gardens, a gift to anyone who wanted to visit a paradise.

Albedo was buying some materials while Y/N stood next to him, not looking at anyone's face in case Childe decided to make one of his classic appearances. She grabbed Albedo's sleeve as a way to comfort herself, reassuring one time and one time again that she didn't have that much of bad luck to cross him in such a huge city.

She turned her head to look around at last, brave to see the stores and Liyue's people. Many of them knew who she was, having helped most of them at least in one occasion, great people with beautiful and peaceful lives. She had that now, at Albedo's side. But why did she feel like it wasn't what she wanted?

The red mask in one of the stalls froze her in her place, it looked identical to Childe's. She knew it wasn't his, of course, he was too involved in the Fatui and too wealthy to pledge his mask, but it made her remember him and one of the many memories she had with him in Liyue, again.

"Girlie, don't be like that" Childe exclaimed, smiling at her with bravado, "You don't have to feign you don't want that bracelet."

"I don't want it," repeated her for the third time, growing irritated.

"I have enough money to buy it for you, darling," the Harbinger insisted, taking her left hand in one of his and kissing her knuckles.

"How charming," she murmured ironically, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"I know," he smirked, going after her, "and I also know how much you love when I act like a gentleman."

"How would you know that if you've never acted like one?" she snorted, watching his expression turn into an offended one.

"I'm a gentleman, you just can't appreciate my efforts to woo you," he replied with a pout.

"Aw, little Childe can't take a no for an answer," Y/N continued to tease him, smiling slightly at his spoiled brat's act.

"Very well, little lady, you're not having that bracelet," he stamped and turn away from her, walking without a real direction.

"Not that I wanted it!" she shouted at the distance.

Needless to say, she found the bracelet in her purse that night with a cheesy note that claimed 'To my favourite and stubborn traveller, with love, Childe'.

She still had it in her wrist, accompanying her wherever she went, reminding her of the stupid man that gifted it to her. Golden with Snezhnaya patterns, orange jewelry decorating the surface of the material. Albedo never said anything about it, never asked, and she was grateful for it, he knew to respect her space.

Her fiancé had just finished purchasing what he needed, looking at her with a loving gaze. She felt nothing, only appreciation, and she felt awful for not returning his feelings at their best, he deserved to be loved and spoiled. However, she missed him, she missed what they had.

The grey sky announced the storm that was coming, thunder and lightning appearing to give a performance of nature power. She had fought, walked, ran and danced in rain. She had danced, kissed and loved. But nothing of it with Albedo.

"Now a step to the left" instructed Childe, grabbing her waist with his left hand and her hand with his right one, "and now turn around... That's it! Perfect! You're a natural."

"Stop lying," she laughed, following what he was saying and dancing with him in a forgotten valley in some old ruins, "I can't dance for the love of Barbatos."

"I think you're really good, almost seductive," he purred, kissing her jaw and going down her neck, "seeing you move your hips like that just" an animalistic growl came from the back of his throat.

"Okay, calm down big guy, we're not fucking here."

The sound of thunder interrupted his reply, confusing them both for a moment. Suddenly, rain poured and soaked them wet. Y/N looked for somewhere they could go to shelter from the storm, but Childe just laughed and started making her dance again.

"What the hell are you doing, pee-brain!" she exclaimed, desperate.

"Dancing with you under the rain. Isn't it romantic?" he asked, smug as always.

"Romantic until we catch a hypothermia."

He didn't budge. Swaying them both with the dark landscape behind them, leaves flying around, wind aggressive. But nothing mattered as they looked at each other; love, affection and lust hidden in their souls, wanting nothing more than to indulge to the other and become one. How can anyone love this much? How can feelings root that deep? Childe was the only answer to those questions.

With nothing but a soft caress to her cheek, he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her while the rain accentuated the wet sounds. Everything with him was wild, but so addictive she couldn't help but coming undone, indulging to everything he asked silently from her. A kiss in the rain never felt so good.

"I'll be right back, I just need to drop this at Mingxing Jewelry," Albedo said, giving her a peck before leaving.

She stood there for a few moments, wondering what she could do white she waited for her lover. The rain was nearing Liyue Harbor, Albedo had told her he needed to do a couple of things more before going to the transport point to return home. She felt like throwing up, not a single spot in the city did not remind her of the love of her life, including their ugliest moments as a couple.

"How could you!?" Y/N screamed, feeling completely devastated and deceived.

"I had to! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No! It's not okay!" his indifference was breaking her heart, looking at him with disappointment, "Again! You did it again!"

"I was ordered to!" he shouted, his voice the same tone as hers, wrath in his eyes, "I have a job and you knew about it when you decided to fuck me!"

"What the hell, Childe!" she cried, "First of all, you nearly destroy Liyue! Again! Not only once but twice!" she was tired, everything was going down in front of her and she didn't want to watch it come to ruins, "And fuck you? You mean love you?"

"Love, sex, everything's the same, isn't it?" he replied, calmer and returning to his indifferent tone.

"W-what do you mean?" the fuming storm stopped to bring an eye of the hurricane, waiting patiently to unleash the tsunami over them.

"What you heard; I don't find a difference between the two concepts."

"You're lying," she murmured, unbelieving. How could he say that when an hour ago he was looking at her with so much love? Was it all an act? No, you can't feign feelings so deep.

"You're just too fool to see it, girlie," his smirk appeared, making her shake in fear, fear of losing what she cared about, "confusing terms and assuming things without asking."

"You're lying." she repeated, more to herself than for him to hear. He sighed, as if he was done with her.

"Think what you want. Now, there are people waiting for me. Until next time, girlie."

The shattering of her heart served up as the soundtrack of his departure. The leaves that had been once so vibrant and full of colour now danced around her in muted tones, mocking her. That was it, the end of their love. The palace the resembled their union fell into pieces, she needed to let go of him. The words he said cut deeper than a knife, made her feel cold. But how could she let go if she still loved him?

"So now you're with the Alchemist," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, making her turn to the source of it.

There he was. Orange hair and piercing blue eyes. His smirk wasn't present in the portray he displayed of himself, walking as the noble man he said he was. Her heart raced for the first time in years, asking her for indulgence, for permission to feel.

"Yes," was the first thing she said after some minutes processing what was happening. Childe was there, in front of her, "yes, I'm with Albedo."

"I see," he commented, uninterested. She thought that was all the interaction they would have, that he would go away again and leave her live her life, but she had to know better, "even if you can't forget me, you allow yourself to be with someone else?"

"What is it to you?" Y/N felt offended, who did he think he was to reprimand her in such a dirty way? He couldn't know she wasn't over him, could he?

"It's unfair for both of you. You see, love shouldn't feel like you owe something to someone just because they love you." Childe said, his gaze falling at the bracelet for a couple of seconds before looking at the landscape, "You're fooling him and yourself."

"And what would you know about love?" the question came in a bitter tone. She was angry, how dare he talk about love when he did her so wrong? When he hurt her so much?

"Touché." Childe gave her a sincere smile that reached his eyes, it was breath-taking. Y/N felt her stomach twirl and her heart jump at the sight of such a beautiful scenario, "Glad to see you well, Y/N. See ya!"

And like that, he left the place as if he hadn't turned her world around again. She missed him, she admitted to herself that she missed him. She missed his wild nature, his odd conversations, the mystery wrapping around him. She couldn't forgive him, but she couldn't live without him, either. That's the way she loved him.

Once Albedo returned from his errands, they both went to the transport point to return to Mondstadt. The way back was silent, but not a comfortable one as they always had, there was some tension lingering in between them. She wanted to attribute it to the tension she had been carrying since her encounter with Childe, but deep down she knew there was something else.

When they entered their house, they both changed into their sleeping garments without sharing a word, waiting for the other to be the first one to break the silence. Y/N didn't have it in her to be the brave one in the situation at hand, so, finally, Albedo spoke.

"I know you're not over him," he said, calmly, but there was jealousy in his tone.

She was surprised to hear him say those words. She never mentioned Childe before, less being in a relationship with him. She wanted to feel fear, the same one she felt when her argument with Childe broke them apart, but she felt nothing at all. Why? Why couldn't she be in love with a man life him?

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N." Albedo sighed, sitting at the edge of their shared bed.

"B-but", she stuttered, searching for words, "H-how do you know...?"

"There were rumours... some years ago, about the 'traveller' being with one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. It was during your time at Liyue."

She nodded, understanding, but really not understanding anything, "Did you believe them?"

"I can't say yes, but I can't say no, either." Albedo looked at her, he didn't look angry, and that made her feel a little bit better. "I just couldn't know if it was true or not because I wasn't there."

"I see." another moment of silence followed. She took a deep breath and looked at him in the eyes, "Why do you say that I'm not over him, though?"

"There are so many signs, you aren't the subtlest person, love." he chuckled, "The bracelet has Snezhnaya patterns and you haven't taken it out in all these years. I can only assume it was a present from Tartaglia."

Y/N nodded again, impressed with how observant Albedo was and with his deduction skills. She wished for the hundredth time that day that she would have fell in love with him and not with the Harbinger.

"I'm so sorry-" she began, but was quickly interrupted by her fiancé.

"Don't." he commanded, "That's not the only thing that gave you away."

"What do you mean?"

"Your late night trips."

'He knew' she thought, searching for any clues that could tell her when he had discovered it, but there were none. 'He has known all this time.'

"Why haven't you said anything?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you space," he began, "I must admit, however, that at first I thought you were cheating on me."

"I would never-" she was interrupted again, a kind gaze on his eyes.

"I know, I know. I realized when you came home smelling like grass and mint and not with the cologne of another man."

It was silent again, Y/N tried to find anything she could say to make him feel better, but she couldn't even understand himself. Why isn't she feeling her heart shattering? She knew why, but she didn't want to indulge in that feeling.

"I'm so sorry, Albedo. I really am."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." those words sounded identical to the ones she had directed to Childe once upon a time.

"I am aware that you don't love me the way I love you."

"Albedo-"

"But it's okay, I can love both of us enough to fill that gap."

She was at a loss of words. Had she heard it right? What did he mean? Albedo was so calm, so ethereal, looking at her fondly even when he knew she didn't feel the same. He was going to marry a woman that didn't want him the same way she wanted her. And even though he was aware of that, he was smiling.

"Why?" she wondered out loud.

"Because that's how it works, that's the way I love you, until you can return my feelings."

The leaves that danced aggressively at the other side of the window stayed still, processing the scene going on in the room of the Alchemist and the Traveller. Their colour coming back to a vibrant one, giving her hope of being able to love again, to feel something.

Her love with Childe was like the Sun and the Moon, so in love they were crazy for each other, but impossible and unworkable. But, Albedo loved her like the Sea loved its waves, like the birds loved the Wind, like a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire, and she was going to return it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but she would. And when she did, she would love him as much as the Leaves loved their trees, as much as the Lake loved the rain that floods it, as much as the Horizon loved dusk.

She bid goodbye to Childe that night, leaving the bracelet in the drawer in her nightstand. Adorning her hand only was the ring Albedo had gifted her.

"See you, Childe," she murmured at 2 a.m. before falling in her slumber.

#albedo x you #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #tartagila #genshin impact #genshin liyue #liyue harbor #mondstadt

[gloryofluv]

Outfoxed: A Not So Happy Accident

I was going to create a headcanon for this prompt. However, it sounds waaaaay too much fun not to write as a fic. So, as per usual, Rena decided she was going to make herself known and now demands an introduction to her story.

F!MC x Multi

Rated: Mature

Summary: Rena was evaluating her place. Not among demons, or angels, or even magic. No, she was evaluating her place with herself. How not to be helpless for a human in a Devildom that never seemed to just have one regular day.

So, on her path to such a journey of self-discovery, she entrusted the neighborhood ancient sorcerer. (BTW He hates it when you call him ancient and Rena does to get a rise out of him!) How does one simple thing as evaluating her demon pacts cause this mess?

She's now... well, she's now a demon. Who knows how long? Who even knows why??? Well, this was going to be something her and Solomon work on. On top of all the newness of being a demon and learning that rules definitely don't stay the same despite your species or the temporary state of affairs.

The Incident:

Through the course of time through the Devildom, there was really no other human as reliable as Solomon. The sorcerer may have been an odd one, but he certainly knew magic. The pair were sitting in his room just as it was, every other Saturday.

Today was vital for Rena mostly due to the fact that Solomon was going to do some experiments with her demonic pacts. This was quite a bit of trust she was placing on the sorcerer—a milestone for her.

The woman shifted and scratched her nails through her auburn hair before twirling a lengthy lock around her fingertips while reading. It seemed quite intricate what he wanted to do. Testing the actual property of how attuned her pacts were with her magic.

“It’s all a process, I assure you,” Solomon hummed as he slowly stirred a spoon in the small cauldron.

“Sol, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” she murmured.

“But you don’t,” Solomon sighed. “I promise this won’t hurt you. We can’t get into the actual foundation of ritualistic magic if you don’t understand the capacity for your pacts.”

Rena shifted in her yoga pants and pulled down her green t-shirt before sighing. “No, I get that part. I understand the fundamentals of what the incantation is. I also see that it requires the subject to be completely willing. What happens if I don’t know if I am?”

Solomon twitched his nose as his ashen eyes met her form. “Are you? Rena, this is important. If you have any doubts, we shouldn’t do this. I’ve been instructing you for the entire week on what this experiment will do.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m one-hundred percent consenting to this,” Rena voiced with a single nod.

“You’re not just doing this to appease me, are you?” He questioned and set down the spoon on the table.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Excellent, then there’s no problem,” Solomon smiled and pointed to the chair. “Bring the book; the mixture is ready. Remember, it will help enlighten the passive magic from the pacts. You told the brothers about a possible tingle, correct?”

She scooped up the volume and agreed. “I also let them know that it’s just me tapping into that magic. A check-up.”

“Perfect,” he murmured and grabbed the ladle.

Rena ran her hands over her neck as she sat down. The book was peeled open to the page, and Solomon was scooping the solution into a goblet. Why a goblet? Why couldn’t the sorcerer use an ordinary glass? Magic was always so ancient, and it made the young woman’s lip curl as she observed. Such an old and foreign concept that was endearing after his several years of life.

Solomon tilted his head and offered it to her. “What has you amused?”

“You, Sol. You always amuse me,” she replied before taking the silver to her lips.

It tasted like rancid mugwort with a shot of whiskey. The liquid heated over Rena’s tongue and slid down her throat with a bite she wasn’t prepared for. The coughing that followed the serving of this solution didn’t startle the sorcerer, nor did he invade her space. All Solomon did was offer a glass of water.

Rena gulped it down and released a groan while scrunching her nose. “Why can’t we ever drink a cocktail or an ale? Why does it always taste like something similar to sewage?”

“Well, I never claimed anything I brew tastes wonderful, Rena,” he chuckled and thumbed the pages in front of her. “We should begin immediately.”

She breathed in and rolled her neck. “Okay.”

Solomon took his thumb and spoke the incantation before pressing it to her forehead. The tingling through her fingers and toes was as he described—even the quickening of her heartbeat as it pattered in her chest. However, there was something else that he didn’t note.

A sharp tug at her navel made her feel nauseous and caused the muscles in Rena’s abdomen to twitch. She started to count backward from one-hundred as a way to cope with the discomfort, but the longer she attempted to ignore it, the sharper it became.

She wanted to stop. This didn’t feel right. This wasn’t what he told her. Rena lost her tranquil concentration as Solomon finished the incantation. His finger pulled from her skin right before the woman launched to the ground and stifled a sound that neared agony.

“Rena, what’s wrong,” Solomon huffed as he slid to the floor next to her.

Her mouth and fingertips felt on fire as her breath caught in her throat. “I’m burning,” she cried as tears welled in her eyes.

“What?” he snapped. “Everything was accurate. What do you mean? Rena, tell me what’s hurting!”

She howled and raised to her knees, running her hands over her face. Her whole body felt like it was boiling in a giant vat of oil. “Solomon!” she screamed and saw white race through her eyes.

Just for the record. One does not simply grow extra limbs or oddities in a snap. It’s a horrible process of your magical composition changing, and those oddities in question come from inside to the surface. Horns. A shift in ears. A tail. It all has to grow from somewhere.

Clothing tears, whether that be from the subject or the growths. The skin bleeds from the oddities. The restructuring of one form to another is a difficult and painful process, but once it’s done, the person in question flops to the ground unceremoniously. Rena had this experience first hand and wouldn’t wish it on her most loathsome enemy.

“Fuck,” she hissed through panting and tears.

“Solomon, oh my, what happened?” Simeon’s voice entered the room.

“I, honestly, Simeon, it was. I don’t know how this could have happened!” Solomon’s voice sounded coarse and the furthest away from his usual calm demeanor.

A cool hand touched her bare back. “Rena, are you alright?”

She caught her breath and dug her sharp nails into the wooden floor. “I think, I need water,” she croaked.

Shuffling and then the hand traveled to her shoulder. “Let’s get you sat up, but be careful.”

Be careful? Rena was assisted in sitting and winced. Her eyes felt sensitive to the light in the room. It seemed so dim earlier, but now everything glared with color. “What happened?”

Solomon offered her the glass and scowled. “Rena, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t fully comprehend what caused it.”

She brought the glass to her lips, and something tickled her leg, causing her to jump. A matted pillow? Rena reached out and tugged the item, causing a sharp pain to run up her spine. The glass fell from her hand and splashed water everywhere near her.

“What the,” she huffed, and the matted pillow flicked and curled over her lap. “I have a fucking tail!” she cried.

Simeon ducked down, and his brow was tight. “Yes, you do. You also have a new set of sensitive ears, so don’t hurt them quite yet,” he murmured.

She narrowed her eyes and snarled at Solomon. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed and gestured to her. “I explained everything to the fullest this week. This was supposed to be routine. It wasn’t supposed to turn you into…” he trailed off.

Rena jolted from her seat on the floor and paced over to the mirror he had on the wall. Oh, for the love of fucking demons… “I’m a,” she breathed as her breath became shallow.

“A fox,” Simeon sighed.

“A demon,” Solomon corrected him. “She is a demon.”

Rena wiped the blood from her forehead and scowled. The horns curled sweetly in a small curve around her eyes. The large matted ears. Lifting her sweat-coated hair, she noted her human-like ears were missing. How the hell was she going to explain this to anyone .

“Lucifer, we have a bit of a situation,” Simeon’s voice bounced in the room. “Solomon and I are bringing Rena home immediately, and I suggest you meet us there.”

“This is temporary, right?” Rena asked.

Solomon appeared behind her reflection. “I think so? I have to do some research on how this was even possible.”

Rena grimaced and scrubbed her sensitive eyes. “This is going to be a shitshow.”

“Likely, but let’s just hope Lucifer doesn’t flay me before I find a cure to your new conflict.”

“Hopefully,” Rena grumbled and covered her bra with folded arms. “Can you help me get some clothing? I don’t really want to walk around like this.”

Simeon cleared his throat. “I have a sweater that might cover the tear in your leggings as well as keep you modest, Rena. I’ll be right back, and we’ll leave.”

Solomon turned Rena toward him and took a cool cloth to her face, wiping away the clotted blood. “I will work tirelessly on this, I promise.”

“I know, Sol,” she sighed.

So. She was a demon for however long. What the fuck was that going to be like? How the hell was she going to cope with this new experience? One thing was positive; Lucifer was going to be furious. Great.

#obey me fandom #obey me demon mc #obey me humor #obey me fluff #obey me angst #new rules #frustration #om! fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me demons #obey me angels #obey me sorcerer #magical accident #transformation #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #om! solomon #om! simeon #om! luke #om! diavolo #om! barbatos

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (4/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 5

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Mid spring shifted to the peak of summer in just three hours.

Or maybe it was less than three hours. Levi wasn’t staring at a clock though, instead enjoying the novel amenities that came with taking a private jet to their destination.

It was a far flung contrast to whatever he had gotten accustomed to in economy class. Three hours on a plane went by much faster when the plane seat could recline a whole one eighty degrees, when the food wasn’t served clumped together in aluminum packs, and when beverages in a hundred different varieties were free flowing.

By the time the plane had landed, Levi was almost disappointed that it didn’t last any longer.

“Is this your first time on anything better than the economy?”

Levi wondered what kind of ridiculous face he had made for Zeke to have taken the time out of his business mogul schedule to give out a backhand insult. Still, that had been more than enough of a reminder that maybe Levi had been overenjoying the free flowing amenities of a private jet.

Erwin had only drank one glass of wine if Levi recalled correctly. Recalling Zeke and Hange who sat a few feet away, he was sure they had drunk nothing more than two glasses of wine each over a simple cheese platter.

Levi on the other hand, had sampled at least ten of the twenty varieties of tea offered. When will you have the opportunity to try it again? He reminded himself. Still, when he was being stared down by the richest man in the country, his partner and his direct boss who were probably all used to the luxuries afforded to the top one percent, Levi became a little self conscious.

The view as Levi disembarked from the plane had only made that slight inferiority complex worse and he was wondering why he had even entertained it. He snuck a glare at Zeke, narrowing his eyes just a little more as Zeke put one arm over Hange, walking ahead just a few feet away.

“Levi, are you going down?”

Levi felt one hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Erwin, brushing past him, taking the stairs one at a time.

“Of course I am,” Levi answered. He kept his voice, casual and professional, an attempt to disguise whatever emotion was forcing his mouth agape then.

He shouldn't be gaping. It wasn't anything magnificent. It was just a country club after all.

***

It wasn’t just a country club as Levi soon found out.

The reception building was just a reception building and near the front of the desk was a map. A map of an island. Levi was starting to wonder what idiocy had overtaken him just hours ago when he had failed to even google the country club.

The airport lounge they had overnighted in. The experience of riding a private jet. Those all paled in comparison to what awaited Levi.

Although he had already willed himself to act as nonchalant as possible, his eyes had widened and he had frozen a little too quickly at the large map in front of him and he had asked too many questions. “Where do we leave our bags?” he asked.

“Not here. This is the reception building. We’re taking a car to our summer house,” Hange answered.

When they got into the car, Levi asked another question. “So we leave our bags in the summer house and then we go back here to the country club...” he trailed off as Hange frowned in confusion. Was that a stupid question?

“The summer house is part of the country club.” Hange was still answering patiently.

“I’ve heard of places like this but I have to admit, it’s my first time staying in one,” Erwin commented as if he had researched the place himself.

If he did, that meant Levi was the only clueless one left.

Rubbing salt into the wound, Zeke spoke up. “The island is the private country club, Levi.” He raised one eyebrow at Levi, studying him. His face spoke for him ‘you’ve never been to one of these before?’

Sorry, I’m poor. Levi thought to himself, giving Zeke the most mockingly apologetic yet professional face he could muster. He soon realized, it might never be possible to pull off such an expression. Abandoning all attempts, he instead bent down to do a quick google search of the island.

Levi liked to believe he was solidly middle class. After a quick search on the membership prices of staying in some country club island hybrid only to find out annual dues were a good few times above his annual income, he started to come to terms with the fact that maybe he was poor. He kept his head down. Maybe the next time he looked back up at Zeke, his face might look more apologetic than actually mocking and he couldn’t have that.

The ride took five minutes, an excruciatingly long five minutes in the same enclosed piece of metal as Zeke who had only been rubbing him off just a little wrongly since even yesterday. He had to take a few deep breaths, a few subtle ones at least.

He had to bite his lip and force his mouth up into at least a glimmer of a poker face instead of the default grimace that came with having to keep close quarters with Zeke. There were still things about the country club he didn’t understand. Maybe Erwin didn't understand them too.

Although he would have had no problem talking to Hange about it, there was one caveat to approaching her.

She was always with Zeke.

Powerless and with little to no interest in dealing with Zeke personally, Levi decided to just go with the flow, following Erwin where applicable, loitering awkwardly like a lost reed when he had no choice but to be alone. Such an approach to life had turned out to be enough at least to get Levi changed into board shorts and a white shirt, enough to get him passively settled on one of the sun chairs next to the infinity pool, reader in hand.

He wasn’t reading though. He was attempting to read and had been for the past few minutes. Everything just found a way to be distracting.

The silence, the peaceful solitude that came with staying in a country club which he didn’t pay for--- and would probably never be able to pay for anyway---had him looking up again and again for anyone who could sympathize. Erwin still hadn’t gone out to the pool area. It was expected anyway, even on weekends, Erwin liked to work.

By the time Levi had self meditated enough to not be as self conscious and by the time he had mustered enough energy to start to make sense of some of the words on the reader, he heard footsteps---a new distraction. He looked up to find Hange standing in front of him, in a one piece that accentuated her form, in light purple, a color that just made her tan skin a little brighter under the late morning sun.

And she wasn’t with Zeke. So Levi stared for a little longer, or at least he snuck enough glances. Maybe Hange noticed. Levi caught her playful grin, the way she had turned towards him, her figure getting closer and closer until Levi had to force himself to look up and pretend he hadn’t actually been staring since a while ago.

“We don’t get this weather everyday back home. You should swim,” Hange said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m in a good part of the book,” Levi said. And I wanna finish it soon. That was what he wanted to stay before he stopped himself. He was halfway to showing Hange just a little bit of what he was reading until he realized he hadn’t even moved past the title page yet. He pulled back before she could see any more.

Hange shrugged, still the hint of disappointment on her face was perceptible. “But you’ll be joining us this afternoon right?”

“What is our plan anyway?” Levi asked.

“Well, go out for a tour of the island in the afternoon, maybe go to the beach. Then after that, swimming tonight…” Hange trailed off before snapping her fingers. “Right, Zeke reserved for tea time at sunrise tomorrow!”

Tea time? Levi could feel the blood rush through his head. The tea they had served in the airport lounge, the private plane had been the most delectable ones, the most exotic ones he had tasted in his life. A new burst of energy rushed through him as he surveyed his overly luxurious surroundings.

If the lounge and the plane paled in comparison to the resort, would the tea and the variety of tea prove to be anything more?

“Hange, so about that tea time…” Levi started. Before he could even look up from his book again to answer the question, Hange screamed.

At first, it sounded shrill, like a shriek. A shriek of terror?

No, she was laughing. “Zeke! What are you doing?”

Levi had a good view of it from his place on the sun chair, a good upward view.

A very disgusting view. If Levi hadn’t been at the mercy of Zeke’s country club membership, maybe he would have told them to get a room. Maybe he would have walked away. Still, that had seemed too rude of a reaction as well. Levi put his reader in front of him, just staring at the title page for a second longer.

He couldn’t completely avoid his peripherals though and the view they were giving him were tempting. He couldn’t comprehend everything but he did capture the way Zeke had nuzzled his beard on Hange’s neck. Hange’s playful laughs weren’t so easily ignored either. He contemplated putting his fingers into his ears. Would it be rude to plug his ears with his fingers then? If he did he would have to put down his reader and he would have to see it or close his eyes.

Just imagining how he would look had him shuddering and he chose instead to freeze on the spot and stare once again at the title page of his book.

Maybe he could look away. But if he looked away, that might seem rude too. He had taken too long to ponder and just that small and very fruitless problem solving exercise had turned out useless.

Zeke eventually stopped nuzzling her. And maybe for a second he had gone for a kiss. With his peripherals, Levi’s view was limited and Zeke was moving just a little too fast.

By the time Levi had allowed himself to look up, Zeke was running barefoot towards the pool, Hange in his arms bridal style. With Zeke’s back turned on him, Levi saw that as an opportunity to stare a little longer than necessary.

He witnessed it all, the overly flamboyant movements, Hange’s laughs, her playful struggle to get out of his grip and the huge splash that came with them diving feet first into the pool.

The only solace Levi found in the whole ordeal was that the sun chair had been a good distance from the pool. That at least spared him from getting caught in the splash or from having to see anymore than he wanted to.

But even from his position a few feet away, he caught glimpses of their bodies pressed against each other. Were they kissing?

Even when he put his ebook reader just on a perfect spot to conceal their shapes in the pool, he couldn't completely avoid it. After all, Hange was still laughing. She was still talking, her voice something faint yet something still jovial from a few feet away.

Levi turned to the first page of his book, scanning over the first line, reading it once then twice. Words had a way of sucking people into worlds unknown, beyond the dreary dimension called reality.

Or they were supposed to. He needed to get past the first sentence before it could suck him in deep enough to forget Hange's laughter or the drumming baritone of Zeke’s voice.

When the first sentence included phrases like ‘truth universally acknowledged” and when the ending clause read “a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” Levi started to find it a little harder to get lost in the book.

There was a man in front of him, loud and proud, who was in possession of a good fortune. And that man had a beautiful, smart partner. There was no need to fabricate his own phantom man when there was one he could be jealous of, right in front of him.

The reader almost forgotten, Levi found himself again watching the blonde, the man in possession of a good fortune and Hange. Hange had settled by the edge of the infinity pool, her damp brown hair falling onto her shoulders, brushing her arms, as she propped her arms on the edge, leaning her upper body forward. She rested her chin on her arms and just watched the sea.

Levi was a good distance away but the angle was good. When he squinted his eyes, he saw admiration, he saw awe in Hange’s eyes. While he was barely unable to get past the first line of the book, Hange had managed to get lost in the beautiful view of the ocean in front of her.

Fast enough that Levi was almost tempted to take his shirt off, dive into the pool and join her.

If it hadn’t been for Zeke. It was the blond bearded man who had obscured his view of Hange. Hange moved a little quickly, pushing herself up from the edge to look back at Zeke.

They were talking a little more quietly. Still, Levi had become familiar enough with the baritone of Zeke’s voice, the melody in Hange’s voice, to know that they were having a dynamic yet balanced conversation, an intimate conversation. Something just for both of them.

He was getting lost in murmurs, in tones, in chuckles. He didn’t even notice his surroundings start to dim, until it had turned everything shades of blue grey and greyed green. Until Hange and Zeke had both looked up at the sky.

He looked down to find light drops had turned the parts of the first line into mush. Soon, the light drops were on his bare arms, then parts of his shirt started to stick to his back. His bangs fell heavier on his face.

“Levi, let’s go back inside, it looks like it’s gonna rain for a while,” Hange said, gesturing for him to follow her.

Why did it take him so long to realize? Levi scolded himself, slipping his ebook reader just under his shirt. It didn’t do much to help though. His shirt was already soaked.

“Well, we were only planning an hour-long swim anyway,” Zeke said from a good distance away, seeming comfortable under the cabana.

“What time is it?” Levi asked as soon as they caught up to Zeke. .

Hange checked her phone. “We’ll be having lunch in a while,”

Levi only needed to do some quick calculations to realize they had been out for an hour. And somehow, he never got past the first line of that damn book.

***

Weather could be very predictable or so that was what Levi liked to believe.

Even when the sky remained a gloomy grey and the rain continued to pour, Levi expected the rain would let up with time. The rain was hard though, forcing itself as a presence in whatever conversation they were trying to have over lunch.

It was Zeke who had enough of it first. He led everyone back to what looked to be a game room towards the other wing of the summerhouse, closing the windows, the doors, quashing the whoosh of the winds and the loud patter of the rain to some distant sound.

Having dealt with it for more than an hour over lunch, Levi had quickly gotten used to the annoying rain, that when the aircon was switched on, overpowering the faint patter of rain, he had almost been surprised.

And fucking cold. Levi only realized then, he was right under the air conditioner with nothing but a semi-wet T-shirt to protect him.

“Would you rather we didn’t turn the aircon on Levi?” Zeke asked. Those words that could have held concern but really, Levi only had to look to Zeke’s face to see nonchalance.

Zeke was paying. Levi was a mere visitor under the mercy of the paying customer so the first thing he could will out of his mouth then were the only appropriate things lowly free loading visitors would usually say. “It’s fine,” Levi stood up. “I’ll just get changed first.”

“No need, I’ll have someone get you a shirt, just change there.” Zeke pointed to the powder room at the corner.

Right, that had been the reason why Hange and Zeke weren’t at all freezing after having spent the last two hours swimming. They had changed already. Among the three of them, he had been the only one too lazy--- or maybe too embarrassed---to have requested for a towel from one of the maids.

Or even a spare shirt. He had half the mind to just lock himself in the bedroom, take a quick shower and maybe actually start on that damn romance novel he had downloaded into his reader only yesterday.

Zeke had an uncanny grin on his face. Hange and Erwin were also staring at him expectantly. “I can just get the shirt myself,” Levi said. And maybe not come back.

“I said, I’ll have one of the maids bring it over,” Zeke said. “Anything in particular you want from your room?” He reached for his cellphone on the table, unlocking it.

“Just a sweater.” And that sweater came quickly, even before it started to feel like a few minutes. Levi pulled the hoodie over himself and that had been more than enough to make the air conditioning bearable. He wasn't desperate enough to complain about the air conditioning again.

"I really hope the weather gets better. I'd hate to reschedule tea time," Zeke muttered. He made himself comfortable on the sofa next to Hange.

"As long as it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’ll be fine. The grass dries up fast anyway so even if it stops raining tonight, it won't be muddy," Hange said.

"Still, I prefer my course without the post rain atmosphere… if you know what I mean."

You get your tea in courses? Tea usually came in course anyway. Levi imagined shortbread, scones and the right mix of tea to accompany it every time. From his seat a few feet away, with his blood seething just watching that exchange, he felt no need to ask. One thing was for sure though, Hange and Zeke lived in a world far flung from his and there was no use trying to make sense of it.

He did love tea though and just imagining how weather and the state of grass could affect the quality of tea had Levi thinking a little more creatively. Some variants of tea definitely tasted better when it was raining. But tea that particularly tasted better after the rain, when the sun was up? Levi couldn't pick them out with just one thought.

But it would be nice to know which tea.... Before he could draw any more context though, Hange and Zeke had moved on from their conversation on tea time, instead approaching Erwin and Levi by the square table where the two had settled. “The rain doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon. It’d be a waste though to spend our time doing nothing. We have a few games here if you’re interested in a friendly game?” Zeke suggested.

“What do you have in mind?” Erwin asked, looking up from the book he had been reading. He closed it and Levi knew Erwin enough to figure out, whatever it was, the blond was very much interested.

“Mahjong?” Zeke looked pointedly down at the square table. “I got this table back in a trip to China… It would be a waste of money if I don’t spend more time using it.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Erwin admitted. "But I think I know enough to manage." He turned to Levi.

The expectant look was directed right on him and Levi almost jumped on his seat. "Mahjong?" He had heard of that game before. He was sure he had tried messing around with a mobile game before. He lived a good distance from China though and he never did make sense of those tiles with those random marks on them.

"That sounds like a good way to pass the time," Hänge commented. "The last time we played was with your other client…Reeves right?"

"That man almost gave me a run for my money. I'm pretty sure I only won because I collected enough flower tiles." Zeke suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his voice stocked full of ideas, there could have been a light bulb on his head. "What about we bet some money on this? Games aren’t fun unless we have some money on the line"

"Actually, I still owe you for that last game of poker we had," Hange said, a wide grin on her face.

"Erwin? What do you think? I think this a great way to build company camaraderie. Just some casual gambling… nothing more than a few hundred dollars…"

Something caught at Levi's throat. Nervousness? Tension? He had a few hundred dollars on hand, he was sure. To put them at risk over a 'casual' rainy afternoon over board games?

Everyone in the room seemed unfazed about spending a few hundred dollars though.

Erwin was the good balance between conservative and vocal in the conversation. "Let's keep it at a thousand dollar limit I'd rather we didn't play anything more over a few casual games," Erwin said. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, counting out a few hundred dollar bills and dropping it on the table in front of him.

It was just like Erwin to be prepared.

“What about you Levi? How much will you be betting?”

“Let me just get my wallet first.”

“No, I wouldn’t want you to have to make the journey all the way back to the other wing. I’ll have someone get your bag.”

A few minutes later, Levi’s bag was resting on the sofa just a few feet away and Levi was counting out bills on the table. He was the limiting factor to how much money the rest would be playing. Levi gave in to the silent pressure. The money on hand was disposable income anyway, allowance just in case he had to spend anything in the country club. Although it had been painful, Levi mustered up the courage to empty his wallet in front of them.

“Seven hundred and sixty dollars,” Levi said, counting out twenty dollar bills, fifty dollar bills and hundred dollar bills. He prepared himself for the loss. Still, a few hundred dollars was still too much.

Levi was still in the process of convincing himself that maybe spending a good hundred dollars on a good few games wasn't a bad idea. In some sort of a gamble, nobody was guaranteed a hundred percent loss. In fact he might just gain more.

Maybe it had been Levi's own tendency to play safe, his aversion to loss that had him going through the motions of sliding the money towards Zeke just a little slower than he would have wanted. Still, with a good internal scolding, he managed to raise his eyebrows and clear his throat, a loud and abrupt enough movement to get him at least somewhat focused on the tiles in front of him.

The tiles formed a wall in front of him and as Levi glanced a little further, he saw Hange had pushed her own wall in front of her. Erwin did the same. Then Zeke. A few seconds of coordination later and there was a square of tiled walls.

“Let’s keep betting simple, no flowers, no extra money for certain tiles. Just ‘if you win,’ you get the money on the table,” Zeke suggested. He counted four hundred dollars in varying bills and dropped it on the table in the middle. “You’ve played before Levi?”

Levi shook his head. “No, never.”

Zeke shrugged. “Well, you can learn as we play. Luck plays a part in mahjong anyway. Who knows you might just get the winning tile.” He rolled the dice. “Okay, you pick where we cut.”

“Pick where to cut…”

“The tiles,” Zeke said, his tone just slightly more abrasive. “Pick a tile and count.”

The hair at the back of his neck stood and instinctively, Levi looked up to meet Zeke’s stare. He placed one hand on the corner nearest to him and started counting.

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Levi, leaning on one hand, looking particularly bored. “Away from you. Not towards you.” He was talking to him like he was a kid.

Or maybe, Levi was just being an idiot at the moment. With all eyes watching his every movement thought, when he himself had little to no idea what the hell he was doing, he just wanted to freeze on the spot.

“Levi, it's like this,” Hange’s voice was a stark contrast to Zeke’s. Her sing-songy voice had been enough to get him moving again. He didn’t even notice his hand had frozen halfway through counting until Hange had clutched the back of his hand and started to guide it over the tiles. “You count away from yourself.”

Dealing the tiles was another issue altogether. He probably wouldn’t have been able to run it as smoothly as Hange. It looked more like a ritual and Hange had taken over, her hands moving deftly over the well fitted tiles. She handed him eight stacked in two rows then nine stacked similarly. She distributed them in the same manner over the table before giving him one more. “You start.”

Levi still didn’t know how to play though. But he had counted seventeen tiles and he had remembered playing it over a mobile game so he was sure it had something to do with dropping one of his tiles. He dropped the first one to the left.

“Pong!” Zeke’s voice echoed across the salon as he grabbed the tile in the center and inserted it between two of his tiles.

Levi still didn’t know what was happening but the seemingly concerned stare Hange had given him was evidence enough, he probably wasn’t playing properly.

***

An hour later, Levi was three hundred dollars poorer but on the bright side, he understood the objective of the game. He had organized his wall by ascending numbers and similar pairs and had created for himself a system on how to get five triples and one pair.

He just wasn’t fast enough at creating sets for himself.

Erwin dropped the wall in front of them. “Looks like the next hundred dollars is mine,” he said, grabbing the wad of bills from the center of the table.

Levi allowed himself the comfort of looking away, focusing instead on building the wall again. Losing money hurt. The most painful part of buying had always been putting in the credit card number and watching as the screen loaded to ‘payment received.’ A dull pain that weighed on his chest, pulling his lips down into a curled grimace. Levi was feeling the same way then as he heard the rustle of a good hundred dollars fall back into someone’s wallet.

He was in no mood to continue. But I can’t lose all the games right? Levi willed himself to look up again, quickly building the wall in front of him.

The room was filled with the echoes of ‘pong,’’chow,’ and the clatter of tiles on the wooden table, the clack of plastic against plastic as they hit one another. He was still unbearably slow.

And Hange was staring. He was slow but he wasn’t oblivious. “What do you want?”

Hange looked away. “Nothing.”

Levi looked back down at his tiles. He had been lucky enough to have gotten a conveniently matched set of tiles. Within a few moves, all he needed were a ‘two balls’ tile and an ‘seven sticks tile.’

All he had to do was win that, and that would put his net loss at four hundred dollars. That amount was stomacheable at least. Erwin had his tiles close to him, his blue eyes darting quickly from one end of his wall to the other.

Zeke looked deep in thought but as Levi looked closer, he saw a sliver of a grimace. Hange on the other hand liked to stare at him and he had noticed enough times that she had snuck glances at his tiles while reshuffling her own, more than enough times for Levi to at least allow himself a second of wishful thinking.

Was she thinking of him?

The response came loud and clear. “Chow,” Hange said. Her mind was still in the game.

She dropped one tile. Still not the one Levi wanted. He grabbed one from the wall next to him. Still not the one he wanted either.

He looked around him once again, using the square table as a guide to recalling how many rounds had passed. He still needed those two tiles. Since a while ago, he had been stuck in a cycle of just grabbing a new tile and discarding it.

Zeke dropped a ‘two balls’ tile. Levi reached out to grab it even before Zeke pulled away then he dropped another tile.

All Levi needed then was the ‘seven sticks.’ His eyes scanned his surroundings before sliding the Zeke’s discarded tile between two of his own.

A cycle passed. Erwin played. Zeke played. Then Hange. She looked at Levi’s wall once again then looked up at him. Levi met her stare for a second longer before she looked back at his tiles then at her own.

Whatever she saw was probably more interesting than he was. Still, he wondered what she saw on the blank backs of the tiles clumped together.

Maybe she did see something. Before the next cycle even ended, Hange had dropped her tiles on the table, so clumsily and messily that if Levi had been the arbiter, he would have disqualified her. “I thought I lost this one," she said giving a everyone a wry laugh.

Her tiles were a mess. It had taken a few seconds longer, craning his neck scanning over her mixed up tiles to be certain that she had completed it. Among those tiles wedged carelessly towards the middle was the ‘seven sticks’ tile he had needed to win.

Hange grinned. Maybe it could have been genuine, to Levi it was mocking.. After all, she had one every single one of the games save for one Erwin had won and two, Zeke had won. The evidence of that sat right next to the wall of tiles---a thick wad of cash.

That had him a little ticked. He could still get the money back he was sure. He had three more hundred dollar bills, three more chances to earn back the money. He pulled one out, slamming it on the table in front of him. “Next game.”

***

“The strategy of the game isn’t just to reorganize the tiles. You have to put yourself in a situation where you can win with two different tiles.” Erwin was a very eloquent man.

Still, the explanation went in one ear and out the other. “What?” You need sixteen tiles in the game right?

“For example, I set myself up for a position where if I got a ‘two balls’ tile or a ‘one sticks tile..' That would higher my chances of winning,” Erwin explained. But he didn't win.

The one who had won all the games had been Hange who had chosen that moment to count the bills, a wide cat-like smile on her face. Levi couldn’t choose whether to stare at her or the wad of bills in her hand.

They had proven already through six miserable games that although luck played a part in mahjong, it was a strategy game. Somehow, Hange had been the most privy to strategy among the three of them. How exactly? Levi was still too bitter to ask.

The rain was still pouring and if Levi focused on it, he could use it to drown out conversations. It was as if Zeke knew it though, he let his voice echo across the room as he spoke. “You wanna play another game?”

Erwin shook his head. “I think I’ll go back to the room first. There are just some paperwork I need to sort out.”

A wave of disappointment washed through Levi then, or it could have been something a little more heavy. After all, his wallet was completely empty and thus, notably light. Without any cash, under the mercy of one of the richest men in the country, Levi felt naked.

After taking a quick glance at his wallet, Levi snapped it close. He couldn’t do anything about it. He had turned his heel to follow Erwin out of the game room, towel and wet shirt on hand when Zeke mentioned something about getting back twice what he had lost.

It was the word ‘pay you’ that had his ears perked up. It was the word ‘double’ that had him looking back, almost pathetically.

He wasn’t that pathetic. He reminded myself. But money is money. “How?”

“A game of chess?” Zeke suggested, pulling a board out from the shelf.

“Oh, chess?” Hange asked excitedly as she started to clean out the tiles a little quicker.

Zeke put one finger to Hange’s lips. “Not now hun, this is between me and Levi here.” He focused his eyes on Levi. “You need the money don’t you?”

Levi bit his lip. With the way Zeke was talking, it didn’t look like Levi had the chance to win. Still, he could at least try to get back that seven hundred dollars. More importantly, Hange had settled for the seat in between them. She rested her chin on her hands and she was watching both of them intently.

Hange wasn’t staring at tiles that time, she was staring at him.

“How many games?” Levi asked.

“One would be enough. There’s no timer so take the time you need to move,” Zeke said as he lay the board down.

Levi had played chess before. He stared at the pieces in front of them doing a quick review in his head of how each piece moved as he placed them on the board. He still knew how to play at least.

Zeke seemed to know more though. “The Italian game,” he said around the third move. He was moving quickly and reasonably, solid proof that he was far from a beginner.

Levi didn’t have much of a chance but he wasn’t considering quitting yet. It was a chance at money though and Hange was still watching, her eyes on the board. When his king was under attack, Hange had followed with her eyes, her expression unchanging.

As he moved, Levi continued to look at Hange, watching how her eyes focused clearly on the black king in front of her. Before he knew it, he wasn’t even solving whatever puzzle had appeared on the board, his focus was on those brown eyes, and how the hell they had looked so good even half closed, under the dim light of the room.

“You never played chess growing up?” Zeke asked.

Levi looked back at the board to find his king at the corner. “I did a few times.”

“Well, not enough to spot a mate in two.” With some flourish, Zeke lay the king down at the edge of the table. The piece toppled over and rolled down to the side of the table.

Hange picked it up and twirled it in her hand. "There were a lot of moves you didn't spot either," she told Zeke.

"You think you can do a better job?"

Hange gave Zeke a toothy smile. "You know I can."

If they didn't have a table in between them, Levi was sure they would have gone closer. He cleaned out the pieces and was about to fold the board close when Hange sat directly in front of him.

"Don't clean up the pieces yet. Let's play," she said.

He couldn't say no.

***

Somehow within a few moves, the game had evolved into another gamble.

Maybe it helped that Zeke left the room, mumbling something about a meeting and an IPO of a well known company.The moment he left, Hänge started moving a little faster. Levi was halfway through deciding whether or not to repeat the same mistakes of a while ago when he heard the rustle of bills.

He looked beyond the board to find Hange distracted with something under the table. He had half the mind to look under the table then. He had cocked his head just a little lower, ready to peek from under the table when she spoke up again.

"It's the money I won," she said. "If you win this game, you can win it back. I'll pay you double."

"Something tells me you're better than Zeke"

Hange responded with a wide smirk. "Who said?"

"You were winning most of the mahjong games. And when Zeke played with me… you seemed pretty concentrated. Besides, you said so yourself, you could do a better job "

"Maybe I can." She shrugged. "Zeke just made some pretty glaring mistakes."

"Like…"

Hänge didn't respond instantly. The pieces were doing the work for her. He only had to stare down, to notice patterns crested to conclude for himself Hange had played the exact same moves. "A lot of the games are about thinking ahead," She explained. "Zeke is good at that but having worked with him for so long, I noticed… he doesn't really look too much at details. His plans are always grand and he gets the job done. But personally, I think cleaner and faster wins come from less conventional methods, methods that dig towards the nitty gritty details. A lot of grand plans are built on detail after all, not the other way around."

The next few moments passed in silence, save for the sound of the clacking of pieces, in a way Levi was very much familiar with.

"Like here, Zeke had a good move here," Hange said. "Don't play that, play this instead. If you play the pawn first, you block your bishop in."

"Okay." There wasn't much else to say in between.

Hange moved another piece. "What's your next move?"

Levi found himself attempting to mimic that same attention to detail. There was a dam in his mind, stopping him from thinking beyond what was already on the board.

Hange didn't have that same issue. She looked up at him expectantly.

"You like thinking ahead too." Levi asked.

"I like approaching games with a little more attention to detail," Hange said. “For example, if he left his knight right here, he would have paralyzed your position. He went for a quick and more careless attack.” Hange replayed the game again. “What’s your next move?”

Levi was only a split second from playing his next move, Hange took the reins. “That move is just gonna make your position worse. Move your pieces out first.”

Before Levi even knew it, Hange was playing for him. A few times, he had tried to move the pieces before him of his own volition, only to realize he didn’t have any input.

Hange had placed them both in a position incomprehensible to him. “Sometimes, it’s the small details, which have you reading ahead,” she said. “Like a while ago, Erwin and Zeke liked to focus on the bigger picture. If they place themselves in a lucky enough position to get a perfect set, they win. They didn’t consider one thing…” She wagged her finger at him. “You got a pretty good set right?” she said.

“A while ago?”

Hange nodded. “A few rounds you did. You like to organize your tiles, you clump the similar tiles together so you can more easily see patterns maybe?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that's a bad idea when playing with actual players. I picked up that you needed a ‘seven sticks’ piece. Or around that range. You were letting go of everything a little too quickly but at the start, you picked up an ‘eight sticks’ then you let go of the rest right? You placed your eight sticks towards the end of the wall, next to one tile which was probably a ‘nine sticks.’

At that moment, as Hange recalled it, Levi saw the tiles clearly once again. They were supposed to be hidden, he was sure. Under Hange’s observant eye, he was exposed.

“The point is, your turn is right after mine. I had the tile you needed and I didn’t let go of it. And if you gave up on completing it, maybe you would have had a better chance of winning.You were just too conservative with your own ways. You didn’t wanna let go of that pattern you were trying to make. And that was your downfall,” Hange said. She started to move the chess pieces a little quicker. “Levi, play the rook out here.”

Levi quietly complied.

“Games teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… Maybe you’re just a little careful, a little set in your ways. At the same time, you lack the attention to detail. But you know, the attention to detail can make people more confident in taking risks. I couldn’t be too sure that was the piece you needed but I thought it a good risk to play with. Sometimes to make that risk, all you need is that bright new perspective. And where do you get that bright new perspective? Small details. They’re just a bunch of cyclical concepts all interconnected,” Hange said.

Levi was pulling away, leaning back on his seat. Hange was leaning forward. In that split second before Levi had leaned away, they were close enough to kiss. But still far enough for it not to happen.

Hange fell back on the chair, adjusting the pieces. “Or if you can’t see all the small details, then accept what you have for what’s right there. What do you feel? What do you want? What are you planning?”

“No plans, nothing.”

“Then start with accepting. Then observing,” Hange said. “Move your rook to the seventh rank. It’s open.”

Levi had to stare for a split second longer to understand. “Done.”

“What do you see?” Hange asked, waving her hand quickly over the board.

He had a good position. One rook at the seventh rank, the pieces were perfectly placed for an attack. “A winning position,” Levi answered.

“Details, Levi.”

Hange was patient with him. Her eyes were still boring holes into him and if he could blame anything---or anyone---for slowing down his thinking process, it would be her. “It’s a winning position.”

“Zeke’s right. You can’t see a mate in two,” Hange said. She grabbed the pieces and moved them quickly over the board. The game ended with his queen, right over Hange’s king. “A lot of games end like this. With a kiss from the enemy queen to the king…. And it looks like you won this one Levi. I promised you double right? So that’s one thousand four hundred dollars.” She pulled the bills out of her wallet and counted it out, sliding it to the side of the chess board.

“Wait, you might need---”

“Levi, I don’t mind giving it.”

“It’s your money.”

Hange shook her head. “Well, if it makes you feel better. Zeke spoils me enough.”

Levi pushed the money back. “That’s Zeke’s money not yours.”

“You don’t think I’ve accumulated my fair share of assets? I do investment too you know.”

He had put himself in a tight spot, assuming the most vulnerable position from Hange. Giving her a onceover though, he was sure he had been wrong. Hange sat straight, confidently. She had dropped the money so easily in front of him yet her eyes were observing. She wasn’t reckless with money for sure. She wasn’t lying.

Maybe refusing the money could seem insulting. So he let her push it nearer towards him. That was the same wad of cash as a while ago and Levi felt no need to count it.

“I don’t have cash on me but I’ll send you the rest of the money through phone credit,” Hange said. She turned the board over, inserting all the pieces on the hollow shapes underneath. Levi did his part pushing the pieces towards her.

Locking the board closed, Hange stood up. “Let’s go?”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you back to the room. We have to prepare for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Levi only became aware of the time then. The clock on the wall read a little past five. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and he only appreciated it then when they had turned off the air conditioner and filed out of the room.

“Looks like tomorrow might just be a good day,” Hange commented. “We could go to the beach tomorrow afternoon. If you’re fine with that.”

Levi hated swimming in the ocean. It was the world’s bathroom. It was a confluence of waste. When Hange was mentioning something about risks and bright new perspectives, he saw little reason to reject the invite. “I’m fine with that.” Might as well enjoy it while we’re here. As they walked silently, Levi took that moment to look at the setting sun, a very similar view to sunrise.

Hange had mentioned something about ‘sunrise’ and about ‘tea time.’

“You have tea time in the morning right?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, at sunrise why? You don’t have to wake up for it if you don’t wanna. Zeke and Erwin just thought it would be a good way to bond. And I’m going because… Well, Zeke’s my husband…”

“Yeah, I understand but I’m excited for it too.”

Hange’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you wanna join too? Great! I’ll reserve a slot for you. It’s better if we have more people. The course will probably be pretty wet though but it doesn’t get muddy?”

Levi almost tensed up at the word. “Muddy?” When did tea times get muddy?

“Well, we are playing in a grassy course,” Hange said, too matter-of-factly.

Playing? "You said tea time right?” Levi made a subtle gesture, putting his hand up as if holding a tea cup.

Hange didn’t notice it. “Yeah, tee time as in the time when we start playing golf. We’re playing golf tomorrow morning. You’ve played before right?”

“Yeah, I did. A few times.” Levi said. He kept his voice casual, an utter betrayal of how he actually felt. He had never actually played golf but he wondered how ridiculous he could have looked being excited for courses of tea while watching a sunrise, an idea which turned out to have never existed in the first place. He could stick with a white lie and just google the rest later.

“Okay great! I’ll contact the coordinator then,” Hange said. She pulled out her phone and texted. “You have shoes right? Pants? We can rent the clubs… So just make sure to meet by the common room at five alright?”

Once again, Levi couldn’t say no to her.

***

It was around ten in the evening when Levi received the notification.

700 dollars was credited to your account.

He paused the video on the rules of golf and allowed himself a few minutes to just stare at the notification. Before his phone screen turned completely black, another message came.

Just sent you the money! Please check your account.

Levi had already tried to give her back the money during dinner time to no avail. Hange had just been to good at digression.

Still, she didn’t have to have it her way all the time. Levi wanted to protest in his own way. He opened his wallet, ready to send back the money only to be met with another message.

This transaction is subject to 2.9% of the total money transacted. Will you proceed?

He decided then, he could probably wait a little longer to give back the money.

#levihan fanfiction #levihan #zekehan