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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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Love Bites

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader, ft. Mark Lee | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Supernatural creatures don’t scare you, so when the cute neighbor who lives just across the hallway offers you a chance to move in for cheaper rent, you agree in a heartbeat--even when he consumes human blood on a daily basis.

Warnings: Smut, vampire sex, sex in front of a mirror, blood sucking, unprotected sex, slight choking. For the sake of the plot, Y/N is slightly intoxicated in this fic (drunk sex). Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

Supernatural things don’t really scare you. Growing up in a family that tells urban legends and mystical myths as bedtime stories makes you feel somewhat reserved toward spooky stuff, to the point that you won’t even bat an eyelash during a jump scare at literally any scary movie out there. It’s not like you’ve seen any supernatural creatures with your own eyes but you believe in their existence, especially when you live in a town where freaky things happen on daily basis.

You’re not sure about werewolves and zombies, but vampires do roam the earth the second the moon replaces the sun. It’s not merely a rumor anymore, it’s a fact. But they keep their presence in secret, trying to act as humanly as possible so they won’t gather unnecessary attention. And since no one has found any dead bodies with bite marks or severe blood loss, people don’t really identify them as a threat. You perceive things in a similar way. As long as they don’t bother you, then you can co-exist in peace. That’s what you believe.

So when you visit your neighbor in the middle of the night, the cute guy—probably still in his early twenties—who lives just across the hallway, you figure you’ll see him smiling back, maybe even offer you a cup of coffee out of courtesy. Now, you don’t usually barge into someone else’s apartment even when the front door is unlocked, but seeing how the two of you are already on a first-name basis, always greet each other with a nod whenever your eyes make eye contact, you think to yourself, “Yeah, he wouldn’t mind if I come in, would he? What’s the worst thing that could happen? He’s too cute to be a serial killer anyway.” Which, you realize soon enough, was a poor, terrible logic on your part.

But you turn over his doorknob with a click and invite yourself in.

So clearly, you do not expect to see him sitting bare-chested on the couch with his girlfriend’s legs hooked around his waist. Clearly, you do not expect to see his hand yanking at the roots of her hair, forcing her to expose the column of her neck and making her call his name in the most wanton moan you’ve ever heard in your life—even if you’ve had a fair share of watching porn movies (for research purposes). And you most clearly do not expect to see him sinking his canines deep into her skin, not caring when trails of blood start to taint her bare shoulder and groaning in bliss as he relishes the taste of her blood.

So naturally, the only thing you can think of is:

Oh shit.

“Wait!” A hand finds its way to tangle around your wrist when you slip behind his front door to run back to your own. His icy cold skin makes you flinch in surprise but you keep your face still. As you turn around to see the owner, you’re greeted by the sight of him with his eyes turning as dark as the night. His brunette hair is made of curls and waves, seems unbelievably soft and silky with bangs almost covering his eyes. His lips and cheeks are smeared with fresh blood, possibly from trying to wipe his mouth in hurry with the back of his hand. His fangs are no longer shown and although he seems breathless, you can tell he’s not breathing from how still his chest is moving (but you’re too distracted with the sight of how toned it is). His black jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, unbuttoned but not yet unzipped, and it’s harder for you to not stare at his v-lines compared to the amount of blood that painted his lips.

Trying to act nonchalant, you simply ask, “Yes?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, so you’re not a vampire drinking blood from your girlfriend’s neck?”

He gapes, eyes growing wide, before, “Okay, then it is what it looks like.”

You retract your hand, giving him a formal nod. “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, as in, no problem. You have a kink. I understand.”

“No, I mean—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, somewhat dizzy from your reaction. “Why are you so calm about this?”

You frown. “I’m confused. Would you rather have me freak-out and tell our landlord that you’ve been spilling maiden’s blood on his carpet?”

“Well, no, but—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Also, I’m a professional. I don’t leave stains.”

“Congratulations, I’m impressed.” You clap your hands twice, face blank. “Well anyway, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to sneak into your apartment without permission and disturb your…” You scratch your cheek, attempting to find the right word. “Late night snacking time—”

“Oh, God.” He rubs his palm over his face but before he can protest any further, his lover is calling him from the inside of his room.

“Lee Donghyuck, come back to me. I haven’t come yet.”

You stare flatly at him, trying not to look as judgmental as possible but most likely failing terribly at it. “She sounds nice.”

He mirrors the look on your face. “Yeah well, she tastes nice.”

“Ugh, too much info there, buddy.”

“No, I mean, her blood, not—” You’re not sure whether vampires can blush but this one surely seems like one. “Why did you even come here again?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You remember. “This is totally cliche and I wish I could say a better excuse but I was making coffee and ran out of sugar. Do you have some I can borrow? And maybe some cream?”

“Seriously?” It’s supposed to be a sarcastic response, but when he sees you nodding your head, he adds, “Do I look like I drink coffee in my spare time?”

“You spend eternity without drinking coffee?” You gasp, laying a hand on your heart. “I feel sorry for you.”

“Leave. Please.”

***

On the next evening, you find yourself crossing the hallway and knocking on his apartment’s door again. Knowing how patience has never been one of your virtues, you try to turn his doorknob after your third knock. Like last night, it’s unlocked with a click so you invite yourself in, calling his name.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you here—”

“I really need to fix that stupid lock.”

The sound of his voice startles you when he suddenly walks into view, but not as much as the sight of him with a white towel hanging around his neck, his wet hair dripping water to his bare chest, and another towel wrapped around his waist.

He notices you’re staring so with a small smirk, he comments, “So you’re fine seeing me with human’s blood on my face but completely left in shocked when I’m half-naked?”

You put your best effort to act unfazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do know us vampires can tell when you’re lying, right? We can hear your heartbeat.”

“And yet, you didn’t hear me coming into your apartment last night.”

“I was…” He narrows his eyes. “Distracted.”

“You mean you were too horny to notice.”

“You—” He exhaled loudly, perhaps a habit he invented to make him seem more human. “Why are you here again today?”

“Can’t I greet my neighbor?”

He snorts loudly but walks away, throwing himself on the couch. “Seriously, why aren’t you surprised about this?”

“About you being a vampire? Or about your God awful taste in women?”

“Yeah?” He mocks back, making a face. “As if your boyfriend Mark Lee is any better.” When he sees a blush blooming on your face, he snickers. “Enlighten me, Sweetheart. How does it feel to have a lover that only last for one minute during—”

“Okay, I’ll take my words back. Everything. Can we move on, please?” You try to yank yourself back to your normal state, even when you feel downright ashamed. “So, this vampire thing. How long have you been a vampire?”

“Long enough.”

“How old were you when you first turned?”

“Young enough.”

“How often do you drink human blood?“

“Often enough.”

You glare at him, earning a sly grin in return. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”

He sends you the best serious expression he can manage. “Serious enough.”

“Right, okay, I’m leaving. Have fun being an asshole for eternity.”

But the second you turn around in your heels, Donghyuck is already on the other side of the room, closing his front door and leaning his back against it. “Now, now, you come in as you please, uninvited. You don’t think I’ll let you go just like that, right?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you want?”

“I think it’s something that we both want.” He steps closer, voice sounding smooth and alluring. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

You gulp, suddenly becoming nervous. He’s an arms reach away, and then closer, and closer until you can feel his cold fingers tracing against your cheekbone, lifting your face so his eyes are locked with yours.

“I’m—” You can feel your breathing starts to stutter. “I’m not giving you my blood.”

“But it’s not blood that I want from you.” His eyes are half-lidded, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about this so much lately.”

Your heart feels like a ticking bomb inside your chest. “A-about what?”

“About our rent. Do you want to move in together so we can split the rental fee?”

***

It’s both ridiculous and dumb, his offer to move in together for cheaper rent, so it’s even more ridiculous and dumb when you agree to it. There are several reasons that make sense, actually—at least, to you anyway: 1) your neighbor may be a vampire but he’s super hot and although that doesn’t make everything okay, it does make his offer sound incredibly tempting, 2) your landlord is going to raise the rent in the following two months, 3) your part-time job’s salary can only cover so much of your living cost and you have no savings whatsoever, 4) if you can ignore the fact that he brings random girls at night for midnight snacks, he becomes much, much hotter.

Of course, there are risks to think about as well. Sharing a place with another person can bring trouble, so you can only imagine how troublesome would it be to share your home with a vampire. What if he gets too thirsty and starts drinking from you instead?

You gulp. The thought of it is actually kind of… sexy.

Mark. You mentally slap yourself in the head. You have a boyfriend. Stop crushing on your damn neighbor.

Well, there is nothing serious going on with Mark actually. You guys were just lab partners in high school, went on a couple of dates, had a terribly awkward first kiss, had a heavy make-out session with him ejaculating under one minute when you dry-humped him on the couch of your living room.

So yeah, nothing serious.

“My apartment or yours?” You ask after a week has passed by, the second he opens his door for you. “Your apartment is bigger, but mine is cleaner.”

“Whatever you want, Sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mind as long we can split the fee.”

“Yeah, why is that? You’re running out of money?”

His smirk instantly falters. “Well, it’s not exactly easy for vampires to get a job these days.”

“You literally have superhuman skills.”

“Well, you guys have the technology!” He throws his hands in the air, absolutely disgusted with the word by the sight of it. “And the Internet! Sure, I can run pretty fast, I have super hearing, I can see in the dark but these fucking technologies can do literally everything I’m capable of—and everything I’m not capable of—with only a few clicks!”

“Do you need a hug?”

He’s still pouting but shrugs. “Can’t hurt.”

“There, there.” You give him a pat on his back as he leans down so you can reach his height. “I’ll teach you some basic stuff to get you updated.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll get through this.” You pull away, squeezing his shoulders. “So, about moving in together. Shall we talk about house rules and stuff?”

“Sure, but before that,” he smiles, opening his door wider for you. “Come in. I don’t bite.”

It’s something about him using that poor choice of words with that teasing smirk on his face that makes your stomach feel uneasy but you nod and let yourself in. As he closes the door, he adds, “Unless it’s what you’re into.”

“Getting my blood drunk by a vampire?” You scoff, trying to steady your racing heart though he can probably tell already. “Why would it be something I’m into?”

“Well, my ladies surely enjoyed it,” he chuckles and you secretly think to yourself, yeah because you’re fucking hot, that’s why, but you keep yourself ignorant on the outside. “But if you’re ever curious,” he coos, eyes nearly glowing as he pushes his bangs back with one hand, “I’m down anytime you want.”

You shudder, but from disgust or excitement, you’re not sure. “Thanks, but no thanks. So, house rules?”

***

It turns out to be shockingly easy to share an apartment with an undead creature of the night. Your source of information regarding vampires are from the collection of your young adult supernatural novels, ranging from something serious like Interview with The Vampire, to something mediocre like The Vampire Diaries, and something absolutely ridiculous and downright outrageous like Twilight. So it’s not really surprising when your first assumption of vampires are dead people who look unusually pale but strikingly attractive, have constant frowns on their faces as they brood over literally everything that’s happening as if they’re constipated all the time (they’re not, since vampires don’t have that bodily function anymore) and kill people in their spare time by sucking their blood dry.

But Donghyuck isn’t like that at all, to the point you have to convince yourself that he’s a century-old vampire and not a brat going through puberty.

Because Donghyuck isn’t pale, his skin is tan as if he was kissed by the sun when he has been hiding from it his whole life. It’s smooth, unscarred, and almost golden under the fluorescent light of your apartment.

He’s not heartless either. He cried during watching Hachiko even when the dog owner was still alive and well, shouting, “Bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit is going to happen to the dog—look how cute that dog is—look just how fucking cute he is—he doesn’t deserve any pain—if this dog dies by the end of the movie, I will combust,” to the screen. So the thought of him killing someone by sucking their blood dry? Seems very unlikely.

And he’s not broody or angry all the time. He’s extremely playful and annoyingly mischievous. He keeps his stock of blood in empty bottles of red wine and places them inside the fridge with a handwritten note that says: “It’s really just wine, Sweetheart. I bought some as a housewarming gift. Come take a sip.” You did, once, out of curiosity, and from that day on you promised yourself that you’d never ever trust his words for as long as you live.

Being a monster, he should’ve been the cause of fear, but in reality, he gets scared from a lot of things—even the things that shouldn’t scare a baby. You will never forget the day when a loud crash came thundering from his room, two seconds before he came barging into yours, screaming with wide eyes, “THERE’S A COCKROACH FLYING IN MY ROOM!”

“And what did you do?”

“I THREW THE TV AT IT BUT THAT FUCKING THING STILL LIVES!”

“WHAT?! But that’s our TV!”

“IT WAS FLYING TO MY FACE AND I PANICKED—WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

Even a butterfly that sneaks in from the window makes him jump on his feet. It was cute the first two times it happened, but seeing how he keeps on throwing random things—your phone, included—to keep the bugs away, you probably should start adding another house rule.

Speaking about rules, they’re pretty basic. It’s settled that you’ll both do your cleaning separately. No borrowing things without permission, no spending too much time in the bathroom because although he doesn’t need to go to the toilet, Donghyuck enjoys drawing himself a warm bubble bath for hours, as he takes a sip of his ‘red wine’. And you’re fine with him bringing girls over to your place as long as he does his midnight snacking in his own room. You were against it before but then you figure that you’re going to have Mark in your room from time-to-time (your date night is cheaper this way) so you really don’t have the right to forbid him.

But man, if only you could take back your words.

Because when Donghyuck said his ladies surely enjoyed it when he drank from them, you didn’t think that they would enjoy it this much. And you didn’t think that drinking blood from a human equals having sex with them all night long.

The sound of “Aah, yes fuck me just like that,” and “Bite me again, Lee Donghyuck, I want you to bite me as hard as you fuck me,” can be heard coming endlessly from his bedroom whenever he brings a girl—sometimes even two, for God’s sake—over. You have to plug your AirPods into your ears, blast the volume to the maximum until you can literally feel your ears going deaf while pulling a pillow over your head. And even then you still can hear them. Your apartment has excellent sound-proofed walls so your neighbors don’t really hear the loud screeches they’re making, but for you who sleeps in the room just across the living room? A living hell.

Fortunately, it doesn’t happen every day. It doesn’t happen every week, even, since he always keeps some stocks of blood in the fridge.

“Did you take this blood from those girls?” You grimaced one night, as you opened your refrigerator to slide in your pudding leftover and noticed three huge bottles of red wine completely filled up to the brim.

He laughed, waving a hand. “Of course not, stupid. How could I even do that in the first place? I bought some blood bags from the hospital, obviously.” He was sitting on the couch before but when he delivered his next line, he suddenly stood behind you, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. “And just in case you’re wondering,” you could feel his smirk grazing your earlobe. “I only drink directly when I want to have sex.”

The heat was spreading almost immediately to your cheeks so you hid it by throwing a punch to his stomach, which he easily dodged. “Still,” you complained, “There’s blood in my fridge.”

“Hey, I never complain when you keep your celery juice in there.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t eat or drink human foods, but who the fuck drinks celery juice?”

***

Donghyuck is also exceptionally talkative, you’ve learned along the way. It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence, moving from one random topic to another, never letting an awkward pause hang for too long. But he can also be exceptionally annoying when you have some papers to do and he’s bothering you because he’s bored out of his mind. He’ll start pestering you with questions—unimportant questions—like, “If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?” Or “Why is it that when you are sleeping it's called drool but when you are awake it's called spit?” And the stupidest of them all, “Why did Superman wear his briefs on the outside of his tights? This question intrigues me.”

And you’ll eventually start to lose it, throw a pillow to his face and yell, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

But by the end of the day, it’s really fun to have him around. Not just because you can secretly enjoy the sight of him coming out of your shared bathroom with only a towel hanging low around his hips, but also because he’s a vampire and you can spend your time doing actual research about it.

“So,” you began one day after the sun has set and he crawled out of his room with the biggest bird's nest on his head. You had a romance novel on your lap, your fingers running through the pages. “Are you like an actual vampire or are you the romanticized, somewhat gay vampire they usually depict in books?”

“Well, I’ve never been with a man but I don’t really oppose the idea.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table. You kind of just stare at him, not exactly judging his words, just… bewildered.

He noticed the look on your face. “When you’ve lived for a century, you gotta learn how to keep things interesting, even if that means having a dick in my mouth.”

“That’s…” You swallowed. “Not exactly something I want to imagine.”

“You should, though. Try picturing me with your boyfriend Mark for a sec. Don’t we look hot together?” You had to look away when he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just had to.

“So, these vampire books you said you read,” he went back to the previous topic after cackling for a whole ten seconds at the flustered look on your face. “How do they depict us exactly?”

“You’ve never read one?”

“Have you ever read any books about humans written by vampires?”

“Fair point. Well, it said that vampires couldn’t see themselves in the mirror.”

“Myth,” he replied, leaning his head against the couch. “I can see myself in the mirror and I like seeing myself just as much as you do whenever I come out of the bathroom.”

You almost blurt out the cinnamon cookie you just ate. “Excuse me?!” You cough, eyes starting to get a little teary. “Who said I like looking at you?”

“You don’t?” The way his eyes twinkled made you a little bit weak. A smirk grew apparent on his face. “You sure about that?”

You cleared your throat, flipping another page of your book. “Next question,” you continued, ignoring the soft laugh he emitted. “Do garlic, holy water, and silver scare you?”

“They don’t scare me,” he clicked his tongue, vexed by the way you composed your words. “I just don’t like them.”

“Right, so that’s a yes. Do you have to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s home?”

He tightened his jaw, quietly murmured, “Yes.”

“Can you read someone’s thoughts?”

“No, but I can tell how they’re feeling through their heartbeat.” His eyes were boring into yours, lips curving upward. “Like you, for example. I can tell that whenever I’m around you, your heartbeat runs just a little bit faster.”

You glanced away, rubbing your nose. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Ah,” he showcased his perfect marbled teeth as he grinned knowingly. “Just like that. Your heartbeat is increasing again. Are you lying to me, milady?”

“You’re freaking annoying, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Speaking of that,” you immediately said, knowing it was the perfect chance to avert his attention to another topic. “Can you charm someone?”

“With these looks?” He gestured to his entire body. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” But when you started scowling at him, he added, “But if you’re talking about mind compulsion, yes, I am able to do that. I can erase and alter people’s memories, even controlling them only by making eye contact.”

“That sounds pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like doing it.” He shrugged, staring at the ceiling with droopy eyes. “Hypnotizing them to get what I want just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to feel a connection, you know?”

“So doing one night stands with vampire groupies is the perfect way to earn that connection, I suppose?”

He tilted his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You really know how to attack someone’s pride, huh?”

“Part of my charm,” you mimic him with a nod. “Okay, next question. Can you die with a wooden stake piercing your heart?”

He rolled his eyes. “Everybody dies with a stake in—what is this, an interrogation?”

“Do churches—”

“Okay, Sweetheart.” He closed your book, smiling at you though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think that’s enough. My turn.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not really pleased with the way he just suddenly changed the direction of your conversation. “What do you want to know?” You indulged him anyway.

He tilted his head, propping his elbow on his thigh, fingers tapping against his cheek as he rested his chin on his palm. Gazing at you intensely, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”

It didn’t take even a split second for you to blush. “T-that’s—What kind of question is that—”

“Ah, so you are.” His smile grew a bit larger, but you weren’t sure whether he was amused, aroused, or just excited to mock you about it. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me a lot lately? Because you’re curious?”

“For the last time,” you emphasized, though your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I wasn’t looking at you. I never—”

“You’re adorable when you lie,” he snickered, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Your heartbeat sounds like you just did a marathon. Are you okay?”

You threw your book at him, successfully wiping the smirk on his goddamn perfect face, and raced back to your own room.

“Ah, she’s really cute.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you slammed your bedroom door behind you.

***

For a vampire, Donghyuck’s presence is as bright as the sun, always managing to lift your mood whenever you’re too stressed about your college assignments or too exhausted from your part-time job. Of course, he’s also the cause of your stress more often than not, but whenever you get into a fight with him—usually because he’s so disorganized and you’re too obsessive to keep everything in order—it doesn’t last long and ends up with him making you the best dinner you’ve ever had to compensate, even when he’s not the one at fault.

Donghyuck doesn’t consume human food but he makes the best cuisine you’ve ever tasted in your life. And also the sight of him wearing your pink apron while humming to a Michael Jackson’s song with his bangs tied to the side using your hairclip is really, really something to behold—which is weird because that obviously doesn’t scream sexy in any way, or masculine even, but it makes your stomach do somersaults most delightfully.

“Dinner is served, Milady,” he says, laying down a plate of Spaghetti Aglio e Olio in front of you, making you gawk at the sight. “And it’s special because it contains a lot of garlic—seriously, like a lot. I had to put some gloves on and everything.”

“You’re an angel.” You nearly cry and it’s not an exaggeration. “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

“Well, I haven’t really thanked you for covering my rent last month so…”

“It’s fine, you can pay me back later.” You take a hold of your fork, already wetting your lips in anticipation, and waste not a second longer before you dig in. When the cheese melts inside your mouth, you almost moan in joy. “Oh my God, this is so good. I love you.”

He chuckles, suddenly standing behind you, leaning forward so he’s next to your ear. “Yeah? How much?”

You raise your silver spoon in the air and he immediately leaps to the other side of the kitchen, startled and scared out of his mind. “Hey, that’s not nice! I thought we’ve talked about this!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you take another spoonful of it. “Man, you should really make a job out of this,” you comment. He only cooks whenever he feels sorry for you for going through a hard day—whether it was because of him or something else—but if that’s what it takes to have this magnificent dish entering your mouth, you don’t mind suffering more often.

“I really should, huh?” He takes a seat on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling a few inches in the air. “I’m really running low on money.”

“I thought vampires were supposed to be rich and like, noble.”

“You’re confusing us with Aristocrats.” He grieves. “Do you think I can get a night shift at a restaurant downtown?”

“Oh, I actually know a place. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Like on a date?”

You almost drop your fork. “Why do you have to make everything weird?”

His cheeky grin is contagious but you’ve become a master of handling your expression. “I just like seeing you blush,” he confesses. “Have I told you how cute you are?”

“Today? Not yet,” you mutter as you munch on your food. “Yesterday? Approximately two hundred and thirty-five times.”

“Then I’ll try to break another record today.” He throws you a wink.

“Shut up and let me eat in peace, please.”

***

“Donghyuck-ah.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop posting a goddamn selfie every ten minutes!” You almost throw your phone to his face but since it’ll be a waste, you decide to throw your shoe instead. “I didn’t teach you how to use Instagram for this!”

Donghyuck easily dodges every single thing you’re throwing at him. “Didn’t you tell me to promote my cooking skill? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“How does this—” You show your phone’s screen to him, almost smacking him on the face with how fast and hard you’re doing it. You slide your thumb over his Instagram feeds, showing more than fifty different pictures of his close-up face and he just made that account two days ago. “—promote your cooking skill?!”

“But, look,” he guides you, clasping his hand to yours so you’re both holding your phone. He taps from one picture to another. “This is me holding a spatula. This is me boiling water and this is me pouring barbecue sauce—”

“Oh my God.” You almost yank every hair out of your head—or out of his head. “I follow more than four hundred people and all I can see is your damn selfies!”

“Correction, my damn cute selfies.” He pecks your cheek. “You’re welcome, babe.”

But all jokes aside, it actually works. His adorable selfies—no matter how bad you hate to admit it—are attracting more followers each day that by the time a week has passed by, he has gained more followers than you (and you’ve had your account for three years, shame on you).

And on the following two months, he gets his first endorsement deal.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, gaping as you stare over his shoulder to look at his phone’s screen, shamelessly reading his direct messages. He’s getting an offer to become a brand ambassador for this little bakery with a cover photo of a lady with chubby cheeks baking cupcakes. “I can’t believe there are people crazy enough to hire you.”

“Hey, privacy!” He immediately stands up from the couch, covering his screen with his palm. “I could’ve been sending nudes!”

“You’re sending nudes?”

“Well, not my nudes.” He rolls his eyes.

“How is that any better?!”

“Look, I’m busy. I got a gig.” He grins proudly. “I’m on my way to becoming a celebrity, babe. Do you want my autograph now before it’s too late? I could sign your bra if you want. I mean, I’m totally down if you want me to sign your tits, but if you ever think that could be awkward—”

You smack his head with a spatula.

***

It’s your first date night after nearly half a year of not contacting Mark due to him going overseas for student exchange, and you’re nervous for various reasons.

First, you haven’t told Mark you’ve been sharing a place with a guy.

Second, you certainly haven’t told him that this guy is a vampire.

Third, you absolutely in any way cannot tell him that you’ve been secretly crushing on this guy while your boyfriend was away studying.

And last but not least, you know that if anything happens tonight, whether it ends up with you fighting with Mark or finally losing your virginity to him, Donghyuck can hear every single thing.

So you barge into his room, hand laying on the front of his bedroom door as you push it open. “Donghyuck-ah.”

Like always, he’s laying idly on his bed, head almost dangling on the edge of it with his phone in his hands. “Yes, baby?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “How many times should I tell you? Don’t call me that.”

“You’re not my baby anymore?” He fakes a loud gasp. “I am shocked.”

“Mark is coming over tonight.”

His movements stop abruptly. “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s been nothing but sweet to me.”

His eyes lose the mischievous spark he usually displays in them. “And yet, you keep drooling over my body. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”

“I never—” You exhale loudly, throwing your head back. “I’m not going to have this argument again. He’s coming over tonight to have dinner—”

“But you’re a shitty cook.”

“By dinner, I mean take-outs,” you admit your defeat. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a favor.”

“Sweetheart,” he calls, turning over to his stomach so he can face you without having to see you upside down. “I know I said I wanted to make things interesting, but having a threesome with you and Mark? So suddenly like this? Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little awkward between us? I barely know the dude. You should at least tell me what kind of person he is, whether he likes action movies or romantic ones, whether he blames someone else when he farts—I need to know him before I have his dick in my mouth.”

Talking to him gives you headaches, you should’ve really come prepared. “Are you done?”

“Do you still want me to continue? Okay, well—”

“Shut up, please for the love of God, shut up.” You should take your leave before he starts yapping again. “Look, that super hearing thing you do? Can you turn it off just for one night?”

“Sure thing, click,” he says, snapping his fingers near his ear. “Done. Now I’m deaf.”

You flatly stare at him. “I’m serious.”

“Whaaaaat? I can’t heaaaaar youuuu.”

“Hyuck!”

He groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “Well, it’s not like my ears have on-and-off buttons I can just switch, okay? What do you want from me?”

He’s right, there’s nothing you can do. “Then, can you leave the apartment for the night?”

He opens his mouth wide, hand going to his chest. “You’re kicking me out from my own apartment? This is heresy!”

“Donghyuck-ah, please!” Great, now you’re stomping your feet like a child. “I just really need some privacy for tonight.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” He raves mockingly, but his eyes are somewhat bitter. “Seriously? With that guy? I think you could do so much better, Sweetheart.”

Vexed, you jeer back, “Yeah? And who do you have in mind? You?”

You’re not sure whether it’s your words or the way you say them because his eyes suddenly turn darker, almost glowering at you but it only happens for a second or two so you’re not sure if you even see that clearly.

“Well, it’s not my business, is it?” He casually chirps, smiling at you again though something still feels off. “Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop on you two. I have a lot of kinks but voyeurism isn’t one of those. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“You…” Something feels really off with the way he’s acting. It’s like he’s visibly upset but trying to act nonchalant about it. “You’re sure?”

“You have my words.”

“Okay then.” Whatever it is, you figure you can deal with that later. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower.”

As you shut the door behind you, uneasiness starts to fill your chest.

***

Your date with Mark is going well. It’s going so well, even, that you end up lying on your bed, perfectly naked, lips swollen from his kisses, with him hovering on top of you, both breathless and speechless.

And unfortunately for you, also clueless.

He has a packet of condoms in his hand, and no matter how embarrassing it is for you, you already have your legs spread on the bed, waiting for him to… well, do whatever it is he’s supposed to do. Perhaps it’s okay for you to be clueless about sex because guys usually take the lead, right?

Wrong.

“Okay, wait, let me just—” Mark’s fingers are shaking due to anxiety. His poor, innocent mind cannot handle being so painfully turned-on and awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Your boyfriend has always been awkward with literally everything, which kind of makes him adorable but it does not come as cute—not in the slightest—when he’s doing the exact opposite of what’s he’s supposed to do. Somewhere deep in his mind, he probably knows that he’s supposed to tear apart the packet sexily with his teeth, put the condom on within seconds, and thrust into you as painlessly as possible. But in reality, what’s currently happening is he tries to catch the condom that flew out in the air after he managed to tear the packet apart with his shaky fingers. He then progresses to try putting on the condom for approximately fifteen minutes while flinching several times when he accidentally slaps the elastic band against his cock.

The whole thing is a fucking disaster (no pun intended) and all the passion, desire, and arousal that you once felt swirling in your stomach vanish in an instant. And when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it does, because being a virgin himself, Mark doesn’t really know where to, for the lack of better words, put it in.

“Mark?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That’s my asshole.”

So with a reassuring (fake) smile, you lay a hand on his chest and gently push him backward, trying not to wince in chagrin when you suggest, “Maybe we should stop and try again some other time?”

You two dress back into your clothes in silence and after you escort him to your front door, Mark tries to kiss you at the same time you’re leaning in for a friendly hug so it ends up with him knocking his teeth against your forehead.

When he’s gone, you close the front door with a sigh, pressing your spine against the wooden surface as you soothe the pain on your temple away with your fingertips. It doesn’t take long before Donghyuck peeks his head from behind his door. Noticing you’re alone, he steps into the living room, leaning against the wall just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing.

“So,” he begins, acting casual, “How was the date with—” He suddenly bursts out laughing, one hand holding his stomach as he nearly tumbles down to the floor, cackling like a mad man. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but man, did he really put it in the wrong hole? Oh God, this shit is just beyond me, man.”

With your shoulders slumped forward, you walk back into your room, trying to gather back the pieces of dignity you have left.

***

“You know what I should do?” Donghyuck asks with a game controller in his hand. To stop him from making fun of you and your terrible incident with your boyfriend, you’ve borrowed a PlayStation from your cousin. Even though he claimed that he despised technology, Donghyuck is actually brilliant when he puts his mind to it. It doesn’t take more than two hours for him to master the game, already adapting to every button of the controller, even manages to land a few high scores in the last ten minutes. He used to prefer to live in the old school way, but that soon changed after your influence.

“Pray to God for forgiveness so He won’t send you to hell?” You offer, as you take a seat next to him on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs, eyes staring idly at the screen.

“Cute, but no.” He clicks some buttons aggressively, trying to reach yet another high score. “I should become a historian. I mean, I’ve seen things happened with my own eyes—the first world war, the second world war, the birth of Jesus.” He sneaks a glance, but seeing no reaction coming from you, he juts out his lower lip in disappointment. “It’s cruel that you don’t indulge me with my jokes these days.”

“Oh, so you want me to respond? I thought you just liked hearing yourself talk.”

“Heeeeeey,” he hisses, leering at you. “I know you’re hurt that your boyfriend tried to butt-fuck you but don’t throw this all on me.”

Oh my God. “Right, then let’s try this.” You have no choice but to please him this way before he destroys whatever is left of your pride. You do a quick search on your phone, throwing a random question from what you found in the article. “Who led our country in 1950?”

“Easy. The guy with the bald head. No, wait, is it the skinny one with the huge mole on his neck?”

“Name, Hyuck. I need a name.” You exhale in exasperation.

“Oh, I got it! The one with the annoying high-pitched voice!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to remember shits that happened seventy years ago?”

You give him a look, eyes staring at him lifelessly. “You’re right, you should totally apply for the job. You’ll nail it.”

***

“I can’t believe this.”

“Saying that multiple times won’t really change anything, Sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe this,” you repeat, this time while standing up from the couch, slamming your fashion magazine down to the table. “I can’t believe our air conditioner broke when it’s nearly thirty degrees outside! Aren’t you hot?!”

“Am I hot—” He snorts, flipping a page of his novel. Yes, it is actually quite bizarre that he spends his spare time reading. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m hot. Haven’t you seen the number of girls I brought into this place?”

“Ugh, God!” You plop back into your seat, throwing your head back in vexation. “What are you even reading?”

“That vampire book you talked about yesterday.”

“Which one?”

“The one that’s interesting.”

“Oh, Interview with The Vampire?”

“No.” The way he rolls his eyes as if he’s disgusted with your guess is beyond you. “Twilight.”

“Oh my God, stay away from me.”

“What—this is actually good!”

“These vampires sparkle under the sun—aren’t you, at the very least, offended? Because I’m livid and I’m human.”

“That’s what makes it interesting, actually,” he retorts, eyes moving back-and-forth as he reads through a passage. “They’re so different than us in real life, so it’s like seeing through a new perspective. I’m Team Jacob, by the way.”

“Good Lord.” You palm the side of your face. “You’re more than a hundred years-old but you have the taste of a teenage girl going through puberty. I’m ashamed of knowing you.”

“You’re just cranky because of the weather.”

“I’m literally dying.” You can feel sweat drenching your back, all the way to your shirt and you just took a shower twenty minutes ago. “You’re lucky you’re immune to temperature changes.”

“Then wanna sit on my lap?”

Your ears must be playing tricks on you. “Excuse me?”

Donghyuck sighs, closing his book and throws it away to the side. Turning to you, he repeats slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Do. you. want. to. sit. on. my. lap?”

You send him a blank stare, annoyed. “I heard you, asshole. I’m not an idiot. I’m just shocked at your offer. You’re really going all out in harassing me these days, aren’t you?”

“What—” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m a vampire, remember? I have cold skin. Here,” he takes one of your hands, sliding it down his shirt as if it’s nothing, and presses it against his stomach. “Can you feel it?”

All the blood rushes to your face, making you feel lightheaded but also conscious of how his skin feels under your palm. It is cold, though not as cold as he’d made a big deal out of it. It’s like the room temperature during the spring season, at most. But compared to how sizzling it is right now, his skin is nice to the touch, relaxing even.

But all that thought just goes straight out of the window when he shifts on his seat and you can feel his abs muscles contracting.

“Whoa,” he stops, looking at you. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat is insane.”

You smack him on the head and try to suffocate him with your cushion. It doesn’t work since he doesn’t breathe, but at least it can stop him from seeing how red your face is turning.

But when another day passes by and your landlord is still taking his sweet time trying to find a cheap handyman to repair your AC, you decide to take on his offer. You know it’s weird for roommates to cuddle but, as you try to reason within yourself, you will be sitting on the-sexiest-man-you’ve-ever-witnessed-with-your-eyes’ lap, your back pressing against his (hopefully) bare chest, and snuggle close until your body heat is no longer screaming at you in agony. You don’t really see any problem with this. After all, you have been imagining how it would feel to sit on his lap every time he does that manspreading thing on your couch.

So really, what’s there to lose?

“Okay,” you begin, standing in front of him in an already awkward position. “So, how can we do this without being weird about it?”

Donghyuck tilts his face up, leaning his back against the couch, phone in his hand. “Do what?”

“Do…” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, what you offered yesterday.”

“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow in question, but the way one side of his lips is curving upward betrays his act. “I forgot. What exactly did I offer to do?”

“You’re seriously going to make me say this out loud?”

“Baby, I’m clueless.” His smirk grows wider, his voice filled with allure. “Please. Enlighten me.”

He’s toying with you, that’s for sure. And no matter how much you want to feel those arms around you, there’s no way you’re gonna let him degrade you like this. “Fine, then forget it,” you sulk, turning around on your heels with your scarlet cheeks puffed out but Donghyuck laughs in the most innocent way when he’s clearly nothing like that in reality. Calling your name in a sing-song voice, he circles his fingers around your wrist and tugs you back until you tumble down to his lap.

“You’re never honest,” he says, his velvety voice suddenly only a whisper away. His arms are tied securely around your waist, pulling you close until you can do nothing but lay your back against his chest. “But you’re cute so I forgive you.”

You can’t form a word, too busy trying to compose yourself. You can’t hear his heartbeat—since he’s the creature of the undead, obviously—but you assume with the proximity you’re being, you would’ve definitely heard it if he had one.

You didn’t notice it before but now that you’re sitting on his lap, your palm pressed against his thigh for stability you realize that he’s wearing black ripped jeans with holes that are oh so terribly distracting. If you dare to move your finger, you’ll be able to trace the smooth skin at the inner part of his thigh.

You gulp hard.

You can hear him snickering behind you. “Thinking about something dirty?”

You almost swallowed your own tongue. “What—no!” Flapping your hands in panic, you almost fall from his lap but his fast reflex won’t let you, as he embraces you tighter, making you fall back to his chest with a small oof.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he chuckles lowly, his lips grazing against your earlobe. “This is nice. We should do this more often. You fit perfectly in my arms.” He says his line with sincerity with no trace of humor or teasing in it, which effectively make you curl your toes in bashfulness.

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep your heart rate going like that, Sweetheart,” he titters.

“Yeah, well,” you try to push him away by pushing your palm against his cheek. “Unlike you, I don’t really spend my time snuggling with the opposite sex, so of course I’m nervous.”

“You’re sure it’s not because of me?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’d most likely have a bigger reaction if Mark was the one holding me instead.”

The way he suddenly goes stiff intrigues you, but you don’t dwell on it. “Is that so?” He simply retorts back, tone suddenly becoming cold and it makes you feel uneasy.

“So, uhh…” Your breathing tatters when he becomes mute, only the sound of the ticking clock on the wall can be heard. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He only hums, placing his chin on top of your head. Since he’s always so talkative, it gets really tense when he’s quiet. “Did I offend you or something?” You question.

“I don’t know, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

“Then let’s just leave it at that.” Seeing how you keep fumbling with the remote in your hand, he snatches it away and proceeds to switch the channels. “We’re watching Twilight.”

“Nooooooo, not again!”

But his arm, as he raises it high in the air, is longer than yours so you can’t steal back the remote no matter how hard you try. And as you jump up and down, shifting back and forth on his lap, Donghyuck warns, “I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but if you keep doing that, I’m gonna get a hard-on.”

You immediately stay still, hands tucked neatly on your lap, chest thundering. “You—Why—” You shake your head, flushed. “How can you say things like that?”

“Things like what?”

“Sexual things like that.” The more you reveal your thoughts, the harder you blush. “Don’t you have any shame?”

“What, I can’t be honest?” He snorts. “I didn’t mean to harass you or anything. Just letting you know in advance. It’s completely a guy thing.”

“No, it’s not just that. You always flirt with me—calling me baby, telling me how I look cute all the time when you don’t even mean it—“

You’re interrupted with a loud sigh accompanied by an impatient groan. “Turn around, look at me,” he orders and his tone is irrefutable. When you turn slightly, making eye contact, Donghyuck has his eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring at you. “I know you’re gullible, and I know you’re dense when it comes to things like this but I swear to God, if you don’t start taking a hint, I’m going to have to push you against the wall and kiss you to prove my point.”

You’re dizzy and nauseous, and your stomach is flipping like crazy and you’re conflicted between believing him or laughing at him because although he looks dead serious right now, you can’t help but wonder what if, after you give in to your feelings, he sends you that signature cheeky grin of his to reveal he’s just joking all along? You’re not even brave enough to imagine, even when the vivid image of him pushing you against the wall, his knee slipping between your legs while he brings your wrists over your head, holding them still with one hand is enough to keep you awake for hours.

So you decide to take the easy path. “Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You shrug, acting casual. It’s really a miracle that you don’t stutter when you deliver the next line. “You told me to take a hint, that’s what I’m doing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, confused. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything more? Or do anything about it?”

“Nope.”

Slowly, there’s a shift in his expression. He shakes his head, tongue protruding against the inside of his cheek both irked and amused. “You’re really something.”

Surprisingly enough, he leaves it at that. Though it’s somehow uncomfortable, you follow his lead and just lock your eyes to your tv screen as he chooses his movie.

You have no interest in watching Twilight—absolutely nothing, zilch, zip, nada!—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your eyelids start to become heavy in the first thirteen minutes of the show. You would’ve fallen asleep way sooner though, if you weren’t too distracted with the way he laid his hand on your thigh, sometimes unconsciously rubbing or squeezing it with his palm when he got a little bit bored with the scene, making your breath hitched in your throat.

The room’s temperature is still hot even when it’s in the middle of the night, successfully making your bangs stick to your temple but Donghyuck is quietly humming something to himself. Soft, melodious sound is resonating from his chest directly to your ear and you begin to drift away, floating into your dreamland.

***

“Hey, wake up. It’s almost morning.”

Your bleary eyes are greeted with the dim light of the room. The TV in front of you has already been switched off so the only thing that can be heard in your apartment is the buzzing sound coming from your fridge and the faint ticking clock.

“What time is it?” You rub your eyes, not aware that you’re still sitting on his lap, with your spine leaning against his chest. It’s until you feel his arms loosening around your waist that you begin to think, oh fuck, what have I done?

You immediately jump off his lap, tripping over your feet but manage to hold your balance by placing a hand on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You screech, face aflame. “You kept holding me in that position all night?”

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck. “I wanted to wait until you wake up by yourself, but you know, the sun is about to rise.”

You’re still pretty much flabbergasted by the whole thing. “You really should’ve woken me up.”

“Well, you seemed like you were having the best sleep you’ve ever had.” He stares at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Was it that good being in my arms?”

You’re about to explode. “Okay, wow, look what time it is.” You try to look at your wrist and mentally slap yourself harder when you realize you’re not wearing a goddamn watch. “A-anyway, you really should go back to your room before it’s too late.”

He shakes his head, chuckling at your stupid antics as he stands up from the couch. He ruffles your hair once, making a mess out of your strands before he heads back to his room. As he slides open his door, he spares you a glance over his shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You kept calling my name in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”

Whether it’s true or he’s just flirting with you to get your reaction, you don’t want to know. “Just go to your room!”

***

A few moments after the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck comes out from his room with bleary eyes and his shoulders slumped forward.

“Good morning, Princess,” you joke, your hands busy mixing coffee powder, sugar, and milk to make your own version of Dalgona coffee. Donghyuck scratches the back of his head, his eyes are barely open as he heads to the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. When he opens the fridge, he groans loudly, noticing that he forgot to restock his red wine. He slams the door with a loud huff, drags his body to the dining table, and sits down with his cheek pressed against the table. Seeing how you’re not paying him any attention, he groans again, louder and whinier this time.

“Okay, what?” You ask, leaning your back against the counter, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“I’m thirsty,” he grumbles, jutting out his lower lip.

“Then drink.”

“I don’t have any money to buy even a bag of blood. Why do they have to make it so fucking expensive?” He pouts. “I mean, I can always steal one but I’m scared of being caught.”

“Scared of being caught? You, with your superhuman speed and strength?”

“Well, they have those security cameras installed all over the place! I don’t want to get arrested or worse, go viral!” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his nonsense. “These fucking technologies, man, I swear to God, they’ll be the death of me someday.”

“Then just go outside. Our town is filled with walking blood bags.”

He groans again, now pressing his forehead against the table. “Man, the effort I have to make just to survive. I’m so done with drinking blood from slutty girls. They’re bitter.” He sticks out his tongue at the memory.

“Yeah, why is that? Why do you only drink from them?”

“Because they’re the only ones who’ll agree in a heartbeat.” His voice is muffled as his lips are brushing against the surface. “Also the sex isn’t too bad if you can ignore how annoyingly loud they are.”

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” You grimace at the flashback. It really has been a while since he brought one of them back to his room and you were ecstatic about it, knowing you were the only girl he had been giving his attention to. “Why don’t you just compel someone to give their blood? You can erase their memories too after you’re done.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a monster.”

It’s cute, you suppose, the way he tries his best to defy his nature. “Then…” You tap your fingers against the mug, somehow feeling uneasy. “Why don’t you try being in a relationship with someone? I’m sure they’ll be willing to give you their blood if they like you that way.”

“Yeah? With who?”

“I don’t know, like…” Your cheeks grow hot, bringing your face down to hide your eyes behind your bangs. “Maybe just someone you like.”

“Are you volunteering?”

The way he suddenly has you backed against the counter, trapping you inside his arms, and whispers seductively with his lips almost grazing your own make you jump on your feet, your cup slipping off your fingers, crashing to pieces when it hits the marbled floor.

“Careful!” Donghyuck holds you by the waist, stopping you just a split second away from stepping on the broken glasses. You realize your hands are fisting against the back of his shirt, embracing him for support without knowing. You pull away immediately, clearing your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, letting you go. “I mean I did, but not like this.”

You sigh. “It’s okay, just step away. I need to clean this up.” He tries to help but you won’t let him, because having him in such proximity is going to blind your senses, unable to function properly. Even just thinking about the way his strong arm fits the curve of your waist already makes you lose focus that you end up cutting your finger with a shard of glass.

He catches the little surprised yelp that escapes your lips and immediately bends down to check on you. “See, this is why I told you to let me clean up instead,” he complains, carrying you to the sink and drenches your finger with running water. “Let me see.” With a hold around your wrist, you can barely do anything but to let him examine your cut thoroughly. “Well, it’s not deep but it’s… still…”

Noticing how he trails off, you look up to check on his face seeing how his eyes are now glowing a bit brighter, his lips parted as if in awe from the way droplets of blood seep from your fingertip, trickling all the way down to your palm.

“Hyuck…?”

His eyes are drifting back and forth from your face to your cut and you know where this is going but when he brings your palm closer to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood off your skin, you nearly collapse to the floor.

“Hyuck—” You hiss, cheeks reddening as you try to retract your hand but his hold is firm on your wrist. He licks his way up before he brings your fingertip inside his mouth. Donghyuck has his eyes closed, a moan almost falls from his lip when the coppery taste taints his tongue. He sucks on the wound, wanting to taste more, to rip your skin apart with his teeth and—

“Hyuck!”

He blinks awake, shocked when he sees your face painted with fear. His fangs are drawn out but he immediately retracts them back before you get a detailed look, his face flushed as he takes a step back.

“S-sorry—” He looks away, rubbing his nape with shaky fingers. “I didn’t mean—shit I really have to go—I have to drink—” and when you blink your eyes, he’s vanished from your sight.

With your heart thundering inside your ribcages, you lean back against the kitchen counter again, your legs trembling under you.

That was close. So fucking close.

There’s a fear growing inside you but it’s not from the memory of him with his fangs extended like the true monster that he was. You’re not scared of him, you’re scared of yourself because you know you want him, you want him in any way possible. You want him to belong to you, to be with you, to be desperate for your touch, your blood, your presence, your everything, just as much as you are about him.

You bury your face in your palms. I am so fucked.

***

Hours turn into days and days turn into months, and before you know it, it has been a year since he moved into your apartment. The friendship that blooms between you feels nice and you want to keep it that way but it’s getting hard when he keeps on bringing random girls in skimpy dresses back to his room. You used to be furious by how loud they were being, but now you’re pretty much angry just simply by imagining him being with someone else. And it doesn’t even have to be sexual—just picturing him bonding with another person, even when it’s not as strong as what you two have, manages to irk you so much.

The thoughts of him keep revolving in your head no matter how hard you try to push them away. It even puts your relationship with Mark in jeopardy, as you can barely pay him any attention. It doesn’t surprise you at all when he decides to break things off, saying something cliche like, “I think we’re better off as friends,” and “It’s not you, it’s me,” which in normal circumstances will piss the hell out of you but when that happens, you simply just reply, “You’re right. Let’s be friends.” And there are no hard feelings—no feelings at all, even, which is weird considering you were only a month away from having your first anniversary with him.

Now that Mark is out of the picture, you can finally bring all of your attention back to Donghyuck. But the more you think about it, the more you’re not sure about the whole thing. He’s a vampire, isn’t he? What future do you expect to have with him? Let’s say you date him and things go well with your relationship, and then what? He’s going to stay young with that cute, boyish look on his face and you’re gonna be all wrinkled and gross, how are you ever going to be able to stand that? What if he wants someone prettier than you? What if he gets bored?

Or maybe it’s just lust you’re feeling. You don’t love him, you’re just physically attracted to him. That’s right. Strictly physical.

And yet, as you see him dressed up in a white buttoned-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, running a hand through his hair and pushing back his bangs to showcase his temple, you thought: fuck.

And when he smiles at you, as he places a plate filled with the exact dish he knows you love down to the dining table, saying, “I went ahead and did some research about you. I was about to buy you some presents but I thought it would feel more personal if I cooked something for you so,” and stopping to gaze at you with tender eyes before he adds, “Happy birthday, Sweetheart.” You thought: Jesus fucking Christ, just marry me already.

Donghyuck goes all the way with everything, from placing scented candles on the table, playing soft music in the background, even escorting you to your seat, pulling your chair back for you, and placing down a napkin on your lap. It’s too much for your poor brain to comprehend, and your chest is suffocating from all the feelings swirling behind it and Donghyuck looks so beautiful—almost goddamn ethereal even—in that shirt, in that hairstyle, in the dim light of the room.

“You’re not hungry?” He asks when a few seconds have passed by and you haven’t munched at your food like a caveman—because that’s what you usually do.

“I’m—you—” You splutter, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you try again. “You look nice.”

You can already tell that he’s about to say something along the line of “But baby, I always look nice.” So when he just softly smiles back and thanks you about it, telling how you look just as nice when you know you look like a storm just hit you, you’re pretty much lost for words.

“You seem exhausted,” he comments, frowning in concern. “Hard day at work?”

You can’t trust yourself that you won’t start rambling nonsense again while answering his question so you decide to just reply to him with a timid nod.

“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs, eyes turning crescents. “Your heartbeat is going through the roof again.”

You loathe yourself for being so transparent. “I’m nervous because you’re suddenly being so nice. I can’t help but think you have a hidden agenda or something.” That’s a lie. A complete lie.

And you’re sure he knows it. “And what if I do?” He asks, raising an eyebrow seductively. “What kind of a hidden agenda do you think I have for you?”

Why is it so fucking hot in here?! “I don’t know…” You start fiddling with the fingers you have on your lap. “Drinking my blood, maybe?”

His expression is a mystery to you, even when his smirk seems familiar. “And would you be okay if that’s true?”

You can’t answer but fortunately for you, Donghyuck lets out a chuckle, telling you he was making a lame joke. You force yourself to laugh but it sounds like a wheeze so you stop before it gets even more humiliating.

Donghyuck walks to your side with a bottle of wine in his hands, sliding glass to your side as he says, “Wine, milady? It’s not blood, I swear.” And you believe him because this time, the liquid seems more ruby than crimson.

“You really need to relax,” he comments as he leans his back against the edge of the table, raising the glass of his usual red wine in the air before he clanks it gently against yours. “To the cutest, sweetest roommate in the world.”

You immediately take a sip to hide the blush that creeps up your face, flinching when the burning, mildly bitter flavor hits your tongue. You’ve never drunk any alcohol in your life and although this first experience feels rather unpleasant, you keep chugging more of it down your system.

“Does it taste good?” He asks, secretly smiling to himself as he witnesses how fast you’re drinking the whole glass down. You shake your head in response, which earns another laugh from him.

You’re not sure whether it’s because it’s your first time drinking alcohol or you just have a low tolerance when it comes to it, but you can feel yourself getting both lightheaded and drowsy. Donghyuck who takes notice of that, move you to the couch so you can rest more comfortably. “I better take this away,” he says, circling his lean fingers around your wine glass but you push him away.

“No,” you say, eyes a little bit unfocused. “I’m fine. Pour me some more.”

“Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“Just another glass, Hyuck, don’t be a bitch about it.”

He’s taken aback but collects his composure within seconds. “All right, just don’t blame me for it,” he states as he pours you another one.

“I have a question for you, Lee Donghyuck,” you coo as he takes a seat on the coffee table, facing you. “Does everyone’s blood taste the same to you?”

“It differs, actually,” he answers, taking a sip of his own drink. “But only faintly. I’m not that picky about it.”

“And how does it feel having your blood sucked by a vampire?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He sways his head from side-to-side in amusement. “I mean, of course, I can have my blood drunk by another vampire but I’m not that kinky. I know some vampires who are into that kind of shit though.”

“Well, by the sound of your girls screaming like they were giving birth, it’s either very painful or very…” The sight of him staring at you intently, taking in your features, nearly throws you off tracks. “Pleasurable.”

There’s an awkward pause and silence hangs around to fill the space before Donghyuck speaks again. “How come you’re asking me these questions?”

“Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you confess, not sure why, but you’re feeling very brave at the moment. “And it’s not just about you drinking my blood, but more about you entirely. You know what I mean?”

Donghyuck places his glass down on the table, leaning towards you. “Not sure, but I’m all ears.”

“I… just…” It’s getting harder to speak when he’s so close, you can start locating every tiny mole he has on his face and his neck. The small one near his Adam’s apple is the one that distracts you the most. “I just think we’re compatible with each other, you know? And I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company this much before. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re both endearing and freaking annoying at the same time—how is that possible?”

But Donghyuck isn’t laughing. His eyes are deep and dark, raking over your profiles with so much intensity but when he swats the bangs out of your eyes, his touch is tender. “What else? Tell me more.”

You lean closer to his touch like how a kitten would, making him gulp slightly at the sight. “I get so vexed whenever you spend your time with anyone else. I know I have no right to be jealous since we’re just friends but I can’t help it.” You sigh, rubbing the side of your face with your palm. “It’s so fucking tiring to think about you this much when I can’t have you.”

You’re too lost in your own thoughts that when Donghyuck reaches out a hand to touch your face, you jump in surprise, spilling wine all over your blouse. “Shit, this is my favorite shirt,” you whine, sliding your glass down to the table. “Can you get me some tissues?”

But what he does is lifting your body with both of his arms and carry you to the bathroom. You cling onto him with a yelp, trying to keep yourself away from falling even though you’re sure he’s perfectly able to hold your weight.

Donghyuck places you down on the bathroom counter, your fingers dangling at the edge of your sink. Sitting up straight, you begin to feel conscious of your surroundings. “What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite shirt, right? We need to wash the stain before it sticks,” He explains, his fingers going to your collar. You nearly stop breathing when he asks for permission to undress you, “May I?”

You swallow hard before you weakly nod.

He takes time unbuttoning your shirt one by one when you know he can rip it apart easily with one finger. He’s so gentle, his touches are paper-thin but whenever his icy fingertips make slight contact with your skin, it sends electricity to every inch of your body.

When he manages to untangle the clothing from your body, you’re only left in your bra and your black satin lace cami top. You can tell he tries to be polite by not staring at what you’re wearing, and instead immediately drags your blouse to the sink, drenching it with water.

“Where did you place the detergent again?” He asks, reaching up over your head to check on the top cabinet and he’s so fucking close that you can see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks. And it’s really, really tempting to just lean over and—

Donghyuck flinches when he feels you sinking your face in the crook of his neck, mapping your lips on his skin, breathing in his scent. You don’t know how vampires usually smell like but Donghyuck reminds you of summer even when you’re not sure how summer smells like. It’s funny how you’re not making sense, even in your own thoughts.

Pushing you away by the shoulders, Donghyuck’s eyes gleam in the way you’ve never seen before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…” You can’t form a word—you can’t even form a thought as you’re too busy staring at his lips, how smooth they look, how thrilling they must feel against your own. And maybe he’s thinking the same thing about yours because when you lean in for a taste, he meets you halfway.

It’s warm and it doesn’t make any sense, because the rest of his body is icy cold but as you press your mouth against his, all you can think about is how his lips are warm and soft, so fucking soft and delightful and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you don’t care.

You breathe heavily through your nose, yanking at the collar of his shirt so he’s closer to you than he’s ever been, and you tilt your head slightly, angling your face so you can meld your lips deeper against his. He instinctively reacts by holding the side of your face, fingers slipping between your strands, tips curling around your nape.

He kisses better than any man you’ve ever been with and you’re sure he’s better than any man you’ll ever date in the future because Donghyuck knows what he’s doing, even when he’s caught by surprise.

Sliding your hand up to his chest, you can tell how his skin stands in contrast to the warmth of his mouth and it makes you shiver, your breathing rags, and you moan into his mouth, tracing your tongue along the puncture of his fang that’s still retracted, almost as normal as a human’s but something inside you tells you it’s not going to stay that long if you continue doing this.

So anticipation builds inside you because there’s absolutely no way you’re going to stop what you’re doing.

But Donghyuck is surprisingly more chivalrous than he looks. He pulls away, giving you a few inches of space to break the attraction. It’s not enough, your mind is still heavily clouded by the thoughts of him, so you reach up to kiss him again, catching his lower lip between yours.

“No, wait,” he says, voice sounding breathy though he doesn’t breathe. He circles his fingers around your wrists, holding them down against the counter so you won’t be able to move.

“Let me just kiss you,” you plead, eyes dazed and desperate. “Please.”

His chuckles are soft, almost inaudible. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not, I swear.” It’s horribly embarrassing how you’re itching for his touch as if losing physical contact with him causes you madness. “Hold up your fingers and ask me to count them. I’ll guess it right, trust me, so can you just—” You try to move your hand to pull him close but his grip around your wrist is stronger than your strength. “Hyuck—”

“Look, I want this just as much as you do—” He hisses when you’re using your knee this time, sliding it between his legs, giving him the friction that he needs. “Fuck. I probably want this more than you do, but—” He loses control for a split second, re-attaching his mouth to yours with so much fervor, tongues desperate to taste one another. The way you whimper against him makes him groan, his hand sliding down your thigh and spreading your legs apart so he can fit himself between them.

It’s when his fangs suddenly puncture your lips, drawing a hint of blood and making you cry out in surprise that he wakes up from his reverie, pushing himself away immediately to the other side of the room. You almost topple forward from suddenly losing him to lean on but manage to keep your balance by gripping at the edge of the counter.

Donghyuck turns around, facing the bathroom tiles as he leans one hand against the wall while his other one covers his mouth.

“Hyuck—”

“Sorry, let me just—“ His shoulders are shaking, trying his best to calm himself and the thirst that overwhelmed him earlier. “They’ll go back in a minute.”

“No.” You jump down from the counter, moving to his spot with careful steps. “Let me see them.”

He shakes his head, still not turning around to face you.

“I want to see them, Hyuck.” You place your hand on his shoulder, caressing him gently until he finally submits to your touch.

You only ever saw him with his fangs retracted twice in your life but even then, it was always too dark and too fast for you to see him properly. Now, you can take your time.

He’s so fascinating.

His eyes, as they peer into you in concern and uncertainty that he might hurt you, are glowing brightly in the color of topaz and they’re strikingly beautiful that you can barely look at anywhere else. His fangs are larger but he can still hide them behind his lips if needed. It’s the way they become frighteningly sharp that sends a shiver down your spine but you brave yourself enough to reach out to him.

“C-can I touch…?” You hesitantly ask, and he looks conflicted by the question but soon gives you a timid nod. He parts his mouth slightly so you can trace your fingertip along his cuspid, and you flinch as it feels like a knife splitting your skin.

He hastily pulls back, terrified at the thought of hurting you. “You’re okay?”

“Do it with me.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, your heartbeat going crazy. “I want you to drink from me.”

“You’re crazy—”

“Please.” You lay a hand on his chest, tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to his eyes. “Just try, Hyuck…”

The glimmer in his eyes shows that he’s yearning to fulfill your wish but he cups your cheek again, telling you, “You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Your fingers find a home in his waves. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time so—”

A high-pitched yelp escapes your lips and you have to muffle the rest of your scream by mouthing against the fabric that covers his shoulder because Donghyuck doesn’t waste any second after he heard your confession. His canines are prickling against the skin under your jaw, just between the earlobe and the collarbone. And it hurts when he sinks them—so, so badly—that tears begin to form almost instantly behind your closed lids. Donghyuck suddenly lets you go, his eyes widening as he gazes at the way blood is gushing through his bite mark. “Fuck,” he says, “How can you taste so—” and he dives in again, moaning rather loudly when the warmth of your blood fills his mouth, swallowing a big gulp each time. “So fucking good,” he murmurs in pleasure, tightening his hold desperately around your waist as if you’re the thread that keeps him alive.

The pain only stays for a few seconds before a rush of endorphin seeps into your skin, running through your veins and pumping euphoria to every inch of your body. You slowly relax against his chest, eyes becoming half-lidded as you go into a trance, heartbeat slowing. You’ve never done any methamphetamine in your life but you imagine that it must feel somewhat like this.

“Hyuck…” You breathe out, feeling a little bit lightheaded, the strap of your camisole falling off your shoulder. You can feel your knees slowly giving out under your weight. “I… I can’t stand…”

He yanks himself away for a second, only to lift you so you can wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you back to the counter, placing you down in the same spot as before, your legs dangling in the air.

“Better?” He asks, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb along your cheekbone. You nod, eyes going down to focus on his fangs again. His lips are painted with your blood, with some of it trickling down his chin. He’s a monster and he definitely looks like one, but his eyes are tender and his hands are silky smooth on your skin.

He slides his hand down to the hem of your camisole, fingers rubbing against the fabric as he peppers soft kisses along your jawline. “Is this one your favorite too?”

“Huh?” You’re having the hardest time trying to focus. “Oh… No, not really.”

“Well, then,” his lips are still sucking bruises on your neck when he rips both of your camisole and your bra with one flick of his hand, exposing your bare chest to the air, making you jump in surprise.

“Hyuck—” You’re silenced with another kiss, and it’s so consuming, so deep, so wild that you nearly sob against his mouth. The taste of copper makes you frown in discomfort but the knot starts to loosen when his tongue darts out to meet you in a messy kiss.

His hand is going down to your breast, cupping the side while he runs his thumb along your sensitive bud, making you rake your nails against his back in response. His other hand is tracing the curve of your waist, going down to your hips before he tears your skirt away, tossing the clothing somewhere across the room, following your previous ones.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, hooking his hands at the back of your knees before he pulls your legs forward, pressing his hardness against the wetness of your lingerie. You whine, circling your legs around his waist for stability, and murmurs, “No, don’t stop, please,” against his ear.

It’s not fair that he’s still fully clothed so you frantically toy with the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders with so much eagerness before you roam your lips to every inch of his exposed skin.

Donghyuck licks along the wound of his previous bite, emitting a sinful moan from the back of his throat when your blood sparks ecstasy in his mouth. His fingers are tentatively rubbing you over your lingerie and you beg with your lips muffled by the skin of his chest, “Take it off, just take it off, please—“

You can feel a tiny laugh reverberating from his chest over your desperation but you don’t care. You really are that desperate.

Donghyuck is more than willing to comply, sliding the lingerie down your thighs and you help him push it off your legs completely. You guide his palm to your heat, his fingers immediately sliding between your folds, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His mouth finds his way down the valley of your breasts and goes lower and lower until he has his head between your thighs.

You nibble at your lip in anticipation when he presses open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh. Donghyuck makes sure he has his eyes fixed on yours when he dips his fangs into your supple skin, making you quiver with the sensation.

“God, Hyuck.” You’re going insane, you can feel it. “I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me.”

And he probably is too because he’s abandoning all of his self-control at once. The way he sucks bruises on your skin, lapping at the trail of blood that painted your body is almost animalistic, raw passion mixed with lust and uncontrollable desire. He unbuckles his belt in hurry, pushing his jeans and boxers down just low enough to release himself from its confines. You can feel his tip grazing against your clit before he glides his length down your folds, pulling you by the legs so you’re almost laying down on the counter, half of your back pressed against the mirror behind you.

His eyes are hooded but they speak reassurance when they bore into yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

Now that it finally sinks you’re going to do this for the first time, your lustful desire gradually changes into jitters. You nod, permitting him to proceed.

The feeling of him stretching you little by little is absolutely painful and he can tell that too, hissing, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” as his eyebrows adjoin in the middle. You can barely stand the pain and you’re about to stop him by reaching out a hand, but he grabs your wrist and sinks his teeth to your skin.

Another jolt of pain sends tremors all over your body but just like before, another rush of endorphin hits you like a wave, gradually reducing your pain until you’re in haze again, blissful even, but also even more aroused than before, hungry for his touch.

“You’re okay?” He asks, licking the blood that trails down your arm. “Are you still in pain?”

You’re breathing hard but you can feel your heartbeat slowing. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

His glowing eyes are gazing down at you with desire, intense with lust. He runs his tongue along his lower lip once, smirking as he says, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Even when he said he was going to be gentle with you, he’s doing the exact opposite. Or maybe he is going gentle, which only makes you wonder how wild can he be when he’s not holding back. The thought of him losing control of his mind as he pounds into you senselessly makes you shudder, tightening yourself around his length unconciously.

“My God.” The feeling of your heat enveloping him—squeezing around him—makes him drop his temple on your shoulder, dissolving him into a groaning mess. “You are driving me insane, do you know that?”

“Don’t hold back,” you hold his face, caressing his sharp jawline with trembling fingers. “Just do what you want.”

“But I’ll break you.” Although his eyes seem like he’s about to grant your wish.

You let your tongue slide up from his chin to his lower lip, stopping just to whisper, “Then break me apart, I don’t care,” before you crush his mouth with yours again.

Donghyuck’s thrust is both deep and hard, knocking your breath with each pound as he holds you by your hips, nails clawing into the skin. Maybe it’s the trace of endorphin left in your body that heightened all your senses while at the same time washing all your pain away because everything feels so unbelievably good. His touches, his kisses, his thrusts, and the way he moves his hips faster and faster until you can’t properly breathe—everything feels amazing.

And his voice—God, his voice—the way he moans and grunts against your ear, or when he sprouts expletives while he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck, lips scorching against your skin, makes you think fuck why did I waste a fucking year doing nothing when I can have him like—

You’re interrupted from finishing your thought when Donghyuck suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss, and turns you around, forcing you to land on your feet again, your stomach pressed against the edge of the counter. You place both hands on the marbled surface as he pulls your hips closer to him, pressing his hardness against your behind as he presses his chest to your spine.

“Come here, look,” he says, holding you by the chin and lifts your face so you can gaze directly into the mirror. He shifts his hand, now holding back your bangs so your eyes are reflected perfectly. “Look how beautiful you are,” he purrs near your ear, the tip of his nose brushing against your jawline.

It’s both embarrassing and arousing to see yourself being held domineeringly by him, the curves of your body fit his perfectly even from behind. Your lips are bruised and swollen, blood smears messily around your neck, your wrist, your thigh even on your hips from the way he trailed his coated fingers along the skin.

Donghyuck raises two of his blood-smeared fingers to your lips, mixing your lipstick with your own blood before he slowly drags his fingers away, painting blurred lines of crimson to your cheek. He sighs at the sight, eyes half-lidded as they glow brighter. “If I’m a monster,” he says, voice low and breathy, “Then you’re a fucking goddess.”

You shudder and avert your gaze, ashamed of how sultry you look in the mirror and how sinful his gaze is as they rake over your body. He presses close, completing the dip of your spine with his chest like a matching puzzle. His fingers curl around the front of your neck, forcing you to look at your reflection once more as he licks a stripe up your wound. “We look good together, don’t you think?”

You’re breathing hard, chest heaving up and down with each breath. “Hyuck…” You crave for him to fill you again like before. “Please, just—"

He glides his hand down between your legs, teasing you with small touches but strong and fast enough to make you quiver. “So sensitive too,” he chuckles, nipping slightly at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Before you can retort anything back, he pushes the head of his cock into your heat again, agonizingly slowly at first but slams the rest of it with one snap of his hips.

“I’ve thought about this—about us—I think about you a lot,” he confesses, with low groans interrupting his lines. “You’re really driving me insane with that face of yours, your lips, your voice—whenever you call my name, whenever you pout after losing an argument—the way you secretly stare at me wherever I go—”

“I don’t—” You gasp, thighs trembling under your weight and he wraps an arm along your stomach, holding you still while he pushes in deeper. “I never—”

“And the way you lie just like now, with that blush creeping on your face.” He chuckles, kissing the middle of your shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re so cute—so fucking cute that it pisses me off whenever you talk about Mark when we both know he can’t satisfy you the way I do—he doesn’t understand you— doesn’t get your stupid jokes—” He begins to fall out of rhythm, hips moving faster with each thrust. “He doesn’t deserve you—I deserve you.”

You catch the sight of your reflection, noticing how he sometimes throws his head back in pleasure, his strong hands gripping on the sides of your waist as he rolls his hips again and again, thrusting into you until you can only cry out his name and nothing more. It’s too obscene, too erotic for your eyes to witness, and when he locks his gaze with yours in the mirror, you nearly faint.

“H-Hyuck—” You reach out a hand back, trying to find his for support but he holds your wrist against your spine, pumping into you with strong strokes, leaving you with no options other than pressing the side of your face against the marble countertop, mouth parting in a silent scream.

The sounds of his groans and your whimpers echo through the bathroom walls, along with the sound of your skin meeting his. His teeth prickling against your shoulder, his eyes going to see how you look underneath him in the mirror before he sinks his fangs deep into you, making various sounds of pleasure as he drinks your blood.

The sensation of his thrust, his fingers slightly choking you as he holds you by your neck, and the amount of endorphin that washes over you soon drives you to your release and he embraces you closer, feeling every shake that you emit directly with his body. And maybe it’s from the loss of blood or everything else combined, but your vision starts to blur and suddenly your world turns black.

***

When you wake up, you’re laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling you’ve seen a million times with your eyes barely open. You’re still pretty much in a haze, not sure if you’re still floating inside your dream or back in reality. It’s until your door opens with a click that you can start to differentiate.

“Ah, you’re awake.” He peeks inside through the door holding your favorite mug, already dressed back in his favorite black tee and matching jeans. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Can I come in?”

He walks in without needing an answer and, weirdly, he doesn’t seem nervous or awkward when the sight of him already makes you blush fervently and your heart races fast. A flashback comes in like an unstoppable train and you almost reach out a hand to your neck, wanting to know if his bite mark is still there.

The way he acts is so natural that you begin to wonder whether all that happened was simply your imagination. But when you try to move your body, jolts of pain runs like electricity to your bones, making you freeze instantly. It feels like somebody is trying to crack your head open, tearing your body apart and you fall back to the bed, weak and exhausted.

“You all right?” He immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed, checking on your face. “You lost a lot of blood, so I wouldn’t move too much if I were you. I brought you some coconut water, here,” he places the mug down on your nightstand. “And some supplements too. They’ll help with your blood loss. I’ll cook some fish and eggs for dinner later.”

You can only nod, too tired to even speak. His eyes begin to soften, his fingers reaching out to caress the strands of your hair. “I guess I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry.”

“A bit…?” You croak out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats but can’t help a smile forming on his face. “I tried so hard not to, but you were so cute.” He leans closer, his lips hovering above yours but he rethinks his decision before he closes the gap, and moves to press a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. “You should get more sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “Call me when you need help. I’ll be right outside.”

And he doesn’t spare you a glance as he stands up from the bed, but the way he trips on his feet once makes you realize that oh, maybe he’s embarrassed about all this too.

“Hyuck.”

He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as he lays a hand against your doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Where does this leave us?”

His face slightly goes stern. Turning over to face you, he questions further. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you pause, wetting your lip in anxiety. “Do you want us to pretend it didn’t happen?”

His eyes darken, somehow seem a bit upset. “Do you?”

“I… Uhh…” The way your heart is beating so fast makes you feel nauseous. “I don’t, but—”

“Then don’t suggest something like that,” he sighs, walking back to your bed again. He kneels on the floor so you’re eye-to-eye, squeezing your hand with his larger one. “Don’t scare me, okay? I finally have you where I want you.”

You look away, attempting to hide your flustered face. “But then, what are we now?”

“I don’t care what we are. I just want us to keep doing this.”

“Doing what, sex? You drinking my blood?”

“No, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, of course, that too. Plenty of that. But what I meant was I want to continue to have this kind of relationship with you. Us living together, making fun of each other, having dinners together, even spend hours watching re-runs of your stupid tv shows—”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They’re stupid. I only watch them because of you. You are my favorite show.” He winks, breaking the tension and you blurt out laughing, shoving him playfully by the shoulder. But when your giggle starts to fade, Donghyuck leans in to cup your cheek, smiling softly. “I just want to spend more time with you, as long as you’d let me. So can we have that? Please?”

“I…” You’re so captivated by his features, especially the shape of his lips. “I guess…”

“You guess?” He scrunches up his nose. “You’re playing hard to get again? Seriously? After all the begging you did in the bathroom?” Seeing you blush only makes him want to tease you harder. “What was it that you said? God, Hyuck, I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me—“

“Okay, shut up, geez!” You slap a hand against his mouth, steam practically coming out of your ears. “Yes, we can have that. I’d… love to have that actually.”

Kissing your inner palm, he lovingly smiles against your skin, appreciating your honesty. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Sweetheart?”

***

Read the sequel here

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the--sad--hatter · 3 years

Text

Steam - Chapter 1 (Loki x Reader)

Warnings - Loki, Smut, Violence & Gore, Swearing, Death, Angst, Dark Humour, Crack Humour, Shenanigan’s, Mutual Pining

Pairing - Loki X Reader (Slow Burn Romance), Enemies to Frenemies to Idiots in Love

Reader Description - Female, No physical descriptions, Only referred to by nicknames & Petnames (No use of Y/N)

Description/Blurb -

“So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

It’s a tale as old as time, boy meets girl, boy tries to invade girls mind, girl sets boy on fire, boy turns into angry blue boy, they become sworn enemies.

When you suddenly become imbued with a power you have no idea how to control, Nick Fury picks you up and dumps you on The Avengers doorstep, deciding that they are best people to turn you from a wacky novice into a force to be reckoned with.

The power burning inside you has the potential to make you a hero, or destroy you completely, but your new fire based abilities are more than they appear, and in a stroke of spectacularly bad luck, The God of Mischief is the most qualified teacher to mentor you. With Loki guiding you, will you ever learn to control your power? Will you ever make it as an Avenger? Or will you crash and burn?

Only one thing is absolutely certain, when fire and ice collide, things are bound to get… steamy!

Chapter One - Ice Breaker

It was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined it would be, not that you’d ever imagined seeing it under these circumstances.

“Are you coming?” Fury barked at you, breaking you out of your slack-jawed awe.

You snapped your mouth closed and tore your eyes away from the legendary tower, looking at the doors where Fury was impatiently waiting for you.

“Coming!” You squeaked, scurrying over to him, “It’s just when you said you were taking me somewhere where I could safely learn to control my powers, I was sort of picturing an underground bunker in the desert, not the freaking Avengers Tower!”

“I utilise the assets I have, why would I send you away when I have a team of perfectly capable super-powered individuals?” He asked wryly, leading you across the lobby and straight past the security teams who did nothing to stop you both as you made your way into an elevator.

“I’m just saying, a heads up would have been nice.” You muttered petulantly, crossing your arms over your chest and tucking your hands out of sight.

You felt him look at you and studiously refused to meet his eye, staring instead at the numbers above the door as you were carried all the way to the top of the Tower.

“Heads up, you’re meeting The Avengers.” He shot back.

You could say what you liked about the former director of Shield, he was true to his word, because the elevator doors wooshed open to reveal a waiting crowd of Avengers, all of them staring at the man next to you with varying levels of annoyance and/or distrust. You diligently pattered after Fury as he stepped forward to greet them, looking around the room reverently.

The first person you laid eyes on was Tony Stark, Iron Man; the billionaire who had kicked off the modern age of hero’s, and next to him, Captain America, the first of the first, the OG Superhero. Stood behind the Captain was Sam Wilson, the Falcon and a personal favourite of yours, side by side with Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier and poster-child for taking back control of your own fate. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye and the deadliest marksman in the world stood to the side with the Black Widow, deadliest person in the world full stop. In the back of the room two other figures were hanging back, emitting two very different aura’s. Doctor Bruce Banner eyed Fury with trepadition, and well-placed mistrust.

It was the last person in the room that the majority of your attention was reserved for, the tall, imposing god who skulked in the shadows. Contempt and boredom radiated from him, and you couldn’t safely say it was directed purely at Fury. He was also the only one who spared you more than a cursory glance, and you slowed to a stop as you found yourself trapped in his curious gaze. You stared back, trying to reconcile the villain who once tried to subjugate the planet with the one you were locking eyes with. It had been months since he had joined the Avengers, but it never stopped being strange to see him standing with them whenever you watched footage of them taking on whatever bad guy of the week they were battling. However, he had been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the battle of New York, apparently he had been mind-controlled. As to why he was helping the Avengers, nobody really knew.

Someone cleared their throat loudly and you forced yourself to look away from the stupendously tall god, glancing around the room to see that you now had all eyes watching you expectantly. Apparently you’d zoned out for the introductions.

“’Sup?” You offered, waving in Tony Starks general direction.

“So you’re Fury’s fiery friend, what has that got to do with us?” Stark sighed.

“What, you think he bothered to explain his reasoning to me before dragging my ass up here?” You scoffed.

“She’s here because she has abilities, abilities that she is more likely to learn to handle among similarly gifted people.” Fury explained in a tone that brokered no argument.

Naturally, The Avengers argued.

“We don’t have anybody with fire abilities.” You heard Natasha Romanoff point out, just before you took the opportunity to zone out again.

You were absolutely certain that nobody cared very much what your opinion on the matter was, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had an opinion on the matter. It wasn’t like you had a lot of experience with these kinds of issues, and as far as you were away there wasn’t some superhero academy that you could enrol yourself in. Besides, you were much more interested in re-instating your staring competition with the god of Mischief.

In the brief time you’d been distracted, he’d stepped away from the shadows and moved closer to you, staring at you with his arms crossed.

You resisted the urge to inhale deeply, who knew ex-murderous gods would smell so nice? You looked up, and then up again.

“How tall are you?” You asked incredulously.

His gaze flickered down at you impassively, while you stared back and tried to mentally calculate his height.

“I’m a Frost Giant.” He stated coldly.

“Oh in that case, you’re kinda short.” You scoffed.

You were flooded with immediate remorse but it was drowned out by amusement.

“I beg your pardon?” He demanded, uncrossing his arms and stepping into your personal space.

“Down boy.” Iron Man sniggered, stepping between you. “So how’d you get the firepower? What’s your origin story?” Stark asked, peering at you curiously.

“Uh, this is my origin story…” You winced, sighing when he motioned for you to elaborate, “I got these powers about three days ago.”

“So you’re a baby.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“If I say yes does that mean I can just sit on the floor and cry until someone picks me up and holds me?” You asked, fully willing to give it a go.

It had been three days since your life had literally gone up in flames, three days of pinning your arms at your sides, afraid to close your eyes, afraid to let your guard down for even a split second, afraid to allow yourself to feel even an iota of emotion.

“So how did it happen?” The Captain asked firmly, getting the conversation back on track before you could find out if anyone would volunteer a hug.

“I, well, I kind of…” You trailed off and looked at Fury for help, but he just stared back at you, the bastard.

All eyes were on you as they waited for you to explain, nobody offering any kind of help. You exhaled forcefully and slumped your shoulders, tucking your chin so you didn’t have to look at them anymore.

“I ate a bomb.” You whispered.

There was a very long beat of silence before it was broken by several voices all at once.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stark demanded.

“What did it taste like?” The archer wondered, looking at you almost giddily.

“She didn’t eat a bomb.” Fury finally stepped in to clarify, “She absorbed the blast, after failing to defuse it.”

“Why was a civilian defusing a bomb in the first place?” Captain Rogers asked sharply, glancing at you in concern before turning back to Fury with a hard expression.

“I’m not a civilian, I’m actually an Agent.” You reasoned.

“She’s an Agent-In-Training.” Fury rebutted. “It was her first mission in the field.”

“Baby.” Stark reiterated, faking a cough and smirking at you when you scowled at him.

That was true, and you still didn’t think it was entirely your fault that the bomb had gone off. Yes you’d failed to diffuse it, but you were supposed to be watching the perimeter when you’d stumbled across the explosive device. It had less than thirty seconds on the clock, and you’d stupidly chosen to spend those seconds trying to stop it detonating instead of running away.

“And you put her on bomb duty? Were you trying to get her blown up?” The Black Widow demanded, and you almost laughed until you saw the serious expression on her face.

“There wasn’t supposed to be a bomb there, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Fury shrugged, like it was inconsequential.

To him it probably was.

“She is still in the room, and I was exactly where you told me to be, when you told me to be there. If your intel was bad, that’s on you Mr Superspy.” You snapped.

“Oh I see it now!” Stark briskly announced, “You’re trying to pawn her off on us because she’s too sassy for you.”

“Precisely.” Fury admitted, surprisingly.

“In the words of shortstack over there,” You hissed, gesturing at Loki “I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have the temperance to be an Agent.” Fury told you blankly, not bothering to soften the blow by at least telling you this in private instead of in front of the world greatest heroes.

“I’d take that as a compliment.” Stark assured you.

“You’re telling me I’m fired? Literally. Because I got blown up, through no fault of my own?” You huffed, clenching your firsts in an effort to keep your emotions from manifesting in a fiery inferno of rage.

“Because you choose to try and handle a bomb you had no training to handle, instead of pursuing the target.” Fury amended, unphased by your distress.

You bit back your retort because you knew it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. You couldn’t reason with him, couldn’t explain that you had made the choice not to pursue the target who’d planted the bomb, because you had to try and stop it exploding in a building filled with innocent people. Maybe Fury was right after all. Maybe you weren’t suited to being an Agent, because an Agent would have known that they couldn’t stop the bomb but they could stop the bomber. They would have let a hundred innocent people die and stopped the killer from killing a thousand more the next time. You weren’t an Agent because you’d chosen to die trying to save the hundred, and trusted in Fury and Hill to take down the Bomber.

Of course, that wasn’t what had happened, and in the end nobody had died.

“None of this explains how you ‘ate’ the bomb.” Clint Barton pointed out, and it was a good observation.

“That’s because we don’t have an explanation. She went through the standard medical tests in her training, and all her bloodwork and scans indicated she was fully human. She walked into that building as a human being, and walked back out after absorbing a bomb, as who the hell knows what.”

“So you’ve never done anything like this before?” Dr Banner asked you, speaking directly to you for the first time.

“Not even remotely. I mean my eyes water when I eat chilli.” You shrugged.

“Fascinating.” Banner muttered. “Inhuman?” He asked, turning to Stark.

“Unlikely, she would have probably noticed going through Terragenesis.” Stark responded. “Mutant?” He shot back.

“No, the mutant gene would have shown up in testing.” Dr Banner sighed, looking you over with a scientifically calculating eye. “Can you explain what happened in more detail?”

“Sure, bomb went boom, I went AHHHHHH, and then it was all bright and hot and then the boom went away.” You told them.

“So how do we know that it was you? What if something else contained the blast?” Someone asked, and you looked around before you finally realised it was Sam Wilson who had spoken.

“No, it was… it definitely me.” You sighed.

“How do you know?” Bucky Barnes interjected, backing up the Falcons line of questioning.

That was the million dollar question. How could you be sure that you had anything to do with the bomb, that you had been imbued with fire power?

“During the post-mission de-brief, there was an incident.” You alluded, side-eying Fury and taking a not-so-subtle step away from him.

“Please tell me you tried to set him on fire?” Barton asked giddily, looking between you and your former boss.

When Fury levelled you with a glare and you developed a sudden vested in the ceiling, the Archer sniggered joyfully. You chanced a look around the room and saw that Barton wasn’t the only one exhibiting mirth at the idea of Fury being set ablaze by your.. well, your fury.

“He was yelling at me!” You defended, taking yet another step back when his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky you had no aim and only managed to set fire to the table.” He snapped.

“I think you were the lucky one.” Stark sniggered at Fury.

“Do you want her or not?” Fury sighed.

“Do I get a say in this?” You objected.

“No.” Fury, Stark, Romanoff, and Loki said in unison.

“I can run some tests to figure out what happened to you, if it’s reversible.” Banner offered comfortingly. “With your permission of course.”

“I’m gonna go stand over there with him.” You huffed, making a beeline for the doctor and awkwardly hiding behind him.

“Yeah, we’ll take her, should be an interesting riddle to solve.” Stark shrugged.

Captain Rogers and his buddies glanced at you before appearing to have a silent conversation.

“She can stay here while Stark and Banner figure out what happened, and we can go from there.” The Captain finally decided.

“We’ll take good care of her.” Loki added with a charming smile.

His eyes said something completely different, and you had a sick feeling that you were going to be made to pay for your short jokes.

“Glad I meet your approval; I was worried I was going to fall short.” You sarked, immediately resisting the urge to punch yourself in the face.

“Approval has nothing to do with it. Of all The Avengers, who do you think will be responsible for testing your abilities? You would do well to remember that I am more than mischief and lies, I am the god of chaos and fire.” He warned you cockily, visibly delighting in the way your grin faltered.

You shot a pleading look around the room, but nobody was refuting Loki’s claim. In fact, they were nodding thoughtfully, or in Stark’s case; shrugging apologetically at you. You turned back to Loki, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in your stomach.

“Well Fe-Fi-Fo-Fuck.”

I have been trying to get back into writing for so long, and this is my last attempt. If this doesn’t work then I am out of ideas.

I know this is a boring start but I have been re-working and rewriting it for days and I can’t improve it. If you enjoyed any part of this, please do tell me! If you didn’t, then tell me that as well. Just give me any feedback at all, I’d appreciate it so so so so so much.

For those of you unaware (especially on AO3), I haven’t been writing for a while because my estranged mother passed away and it brought up issues that needed to be dealt with, but all that is over with now. Thank you to everyone who sent supportive messages and was patient with me ❤

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tearsofgrace · 3 years

Text

endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless.

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak.

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me.

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay.

the last line of the good place "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.” is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot.

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen.

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was.

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT.

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure.

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole.

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that.

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them.

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him.

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong.

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion.

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end.

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap.

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass.

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at.

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts.

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved.

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester.

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other.

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity.

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way.

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth.

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die?

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will.

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale.

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it.

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

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luciferloveschloe · 3 years

Text

goodbye, lucifer (but not really!)

I cannot BELIEVE that I just watched the last episode of my favourite show.

I usually cram everything I have to in tags under gifsets I reblog, but for this final season I'll go through the pain of actually writing shit down. I'll try to keep it short, and I'll try not to ramble. (Edit: Did not accomplish that.)

what i loved

SCREAMS

God, soooooooo much!!

Deckerstar baby

Okay, so when Rory showed up in the trailer I was like "Ugh, another annoying angel? Meh." FORGIVE ME, my sweet murder child! Of all the things I thought they might do, a Deckerstar baby was DEAD LAST on my list. And a daughter no less, I just... When she says she's Lucifer's daughter, I was like *SCREAMS*, but when we learn she's Lucifer AND Chloe's daughter, I completely lost it. My boyfriend's on a trip with his friends this week and I'm sooo grateful for that, I made the weirdest, loudest, ugliest noises while watching this season, I ran around our apartment like a maniac, I squealed and laughed and cried and just generally lost my mind. But when she says that?? Oh my God. Also the way Lucifer reacted when Chloe shows him the pregnancy test? Straight outta fanfic.

Lucifer being a father

Oh my God?? I've always said he'd be the BEST father, and actually seeing it on screen... I love the parallel of him being ridiculously over the top with Rory at first, just like God and Lucifer in S5. The way he looks at her when he sees her playing the guitar? Their duet?? Instantly one of my favourite scenes. Them driving in the Corvette, their last day together, how he keeps her from killing Le Mec? Just murder me.

Established Deckerstar

All the hugs and kisses?? The declarations of love, the besotted looks, the absolute power couple we got? Their look from Maze and Eve's wedding, OH MY GOD???? Just, these two are so pretty and we got SO MUCH. Also, their scenes with Rory?? I just love them so much...

(More under the cut!)

Ella's storyline

I wanted a reveal for her so badly, and the way it turned out was brilliant! I loved her figuring it out for herself and calling everyone out lmao. I especially loved poor Carol returning to that room full of shocked people. They had some GREAT punchlines and gags this season, absolutely hilarious! I also love Lucifer's parting gift for her and that she finally found a good one with Carol.

Hugs, so many hugs!

That's it, that's the paragraph.

The Police storyline

As a white person who has literally never once had a problem with the police, I know this is not my place to say, but I think they did a good job? Not giving into the "a few bad apples" excuse but acknowledging that the whole system needs to change? I also really enjoyed the scenes with Amenadiel and Officer Harris, showing what policework could and should look like.

Maze and Eve's happily ever after

I'm so glad auntie Maze and auntie Eve got their happy ending! And that wedding was a bomb. Also, "You're my hell!", lmao.

Dan's ascend to heaven

First of, great to know his only torture was Belios' lack of table tennis skills. Secondly, how very fitting for the show that they didn't hand Dan his happy ending easily, that he fought and won it for himself. Him as a ghost and him as Le Mec was equally funny, and his talk with Trixie was just perfect, literally tears you guys.

Amenadiel becoming God

I mean, dude's perfect for the job! From the loyal, distant, obeying servant to a God who wants to work as a team with his siblings, who wants the Celestials to experience the human world, who hates injustice and loves fiercely? In this universe, I couldn't imagine anyone better suited to be God.

Nobody misses the case of the week

At least I don't! God, I wish they'd tried this out sooner.

The bittersweet ending

Let's preface this by saying I HATE bittersweet endings. Give me a happily ever after or else. And yet, and yet!! I think the ending they settled on is perfect. Would I have loved it if Lucifer had a life on earth with Chloe, Trixie and Rory? God, yes. Do I get emotional over him being alone in hell, again? Goddd, yes. But still. I so love that he found his calling in the end, that they reunited, and that he actually makes good on his promise from S5 to change the system. Also, I don't care if this is canon or fanon for now, but they totally spend time in heaven with Rory and visit earth whenever they like. And this would have been my ideal ending - them being free to go where they like, and I don't see why they shoudn't. It's definitely more satisfying than just traipsing off to heaven indefinitely, so I really, really loved that.

what i didn't (do feel free to skip this!)

Lucifer missing out on Chloe's life on earth and being alone in hell again. Chloe being left again.

Time travel shenanigans. I just finished Dark and that was enough of a mindfuck. Do not want to think about loops for this show, thank you very much.

Chloe felt a little too housewifey in the first episodes, but it thankfully didn't stay that way for long.

Lucifer and Chloe talking about keeping secrets for a whole episode, and then NOBODY TALKING ABOUT URIEL AND CANDY. I mean, ahhhhhhh! If you don't want to talk about it, then don't, but don't remind people of it constantly and then NOT discuss it. It drives me mad, honestly, how many times they referenced these storylines only to completely ignore them when there were opportunities to resolve them. Ahhh. That's what fic is for, I guess.

Adam. Like, why? Bye, dude.

what i'll keep with me

When someone I'd just met at my boyfriend's cousin's wedding in 2019 recommended this "funny, little show" to me that intrigued them because they were interested in finding their faith, I really didn't think I'd write all this three years later.

Lucifer is my third fandom, and it won't be my last, but it sure as hell - ha - will stay with me. I resonate so deeply with Lucifer as a character because he fights with the idea of God, fights with this concept of a benevolent father that everyone seems to believe in but never fit his experience. I come from a Christian family and studied theology, but somewhere along the lines I had to come to terms with the fact that the faith I had as a child and teenager didn't fit me anymore. I want to believe again, and maybe someday I will, but right now I don't know that. So Lucifer's journey with that meant a lot to me. I'd like to find what Ella did, I guess.

Although I never really thought Lucifer needed redemption, I loved the whole "anybody can be redeemed" message as well. And hell reform! Hell is such a weird, awful construct - speaking as the theology expert - bringing a bit of purgatory in in this universe is really fucking cool.

Also, I binged Lucifer when I was alone in hospital late at night. That experience alone I'll never forget.

So, I guess - thank you!! Thank you to the cast and crew, to the fans who campaigned for season four, to Ildy and Joe, to the writers and the directors and the people who brought lunch: Thank you so much for this incredible show. I'm not ready to say goodbye, not by a long shot, and I hope this fandom feels the same.

Yabba dabba do me, I love my stupid little show!!!

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #chloe x lucifer #deckerstar #lucifer spoilers #lucifer season six #meta #s6 #i will also leave so many comments on gifsets

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lololova · 3 years

Text

Beyond the words - 47 reasons

Prompt: “Fic prompt I’m throwing out there: 47 Seconds arc - Beckett receives the DC job offer during the time Castle starts shutting her out.” Tweeted by @/bunysliper

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Until next time, xxxx

----------------------------------------------------------

Kate Beckett looks down at her phone, still not sure if she should call or not. How is she supposed to make a decision like this? She thinks back to the conversation with the agent from F.B.I. who’d said she’d be a great addition to the bureau if she decided to make an appointment for a job interview. She thinks back to how badly she’d wanted to tell her partner but he’d been nowhere to be seen. She thinks back to the case and how he’d all of a sudden literally been nowhere to be found every time she wanted to discuss a new lead with him. She can’t stop thinking about the glances of - what? Hate? Disgust? - that he’s kept throwing at her the past week. And she can’t think of a reason why.

“It’s like he’s pulling away,” she’d told dr. Burke no more than a couple hours ago.

“What are you most afraid of Kate? That he won’t wait for you, or that he will?” he’d asked back and she’d held back a groan.

The therapist was of no use when it came to the talking about her partner. He never gave her a straight answer when she asked something. And today has been no different.

“Argh,” she groans as she once again puts away her phone. She wants to smash something, anything. But she also knows it won’t actually help.

One part of her just wants to make the call, do the interview, get the job, move and never look back ever again. But another part of her can’t even fathom the thought of leaving her partner to never see him again. Not when they were so close! Which brings her back to the constant thought screaming in her mind for the past week. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THEM?! Why has he pulled away? Why doesn’t he text her anymore? Why doesn’t he answer when she calls? Why is it killing her? You know why it kills you. She shrugs the voice away, tries to ignore it and pretends she didn’t hear it. But you did.

Kate feels the tears prickle her eyes as she picks up her phone once again. But instead of calling the DC-number she touches the screen until she has the photo of him covering the entire screen. It’s a photo she took not that long ago. She’d actually taken it without his knowledge, even though he’s staring at her she’d managed to take it without him figuring it was a photo she’d taken with her phone, and he just looked so relaxed and so in love with her that it made her sick to the stomach. He hasn’t been looking at her like that since their bomb case. What did she do?

Before she can do anything about it her cheeks are wet from the tears and she can’t stop the crying no matter how much she tries. Can’t stop feeling the pain of her heart aching inside her chest. It’s worse than she thought at first because suddenly it’s also hard to breathe. She tries taking deep, calming breaths, but she has a feeling it won’t help fully. What she needs is confirmation from her partner, any type of confirmation. She needs to know if he still loves her or if she’s screwed it up completely. Without thinking she’s calling his number, phone to ear as she hopes he’ll answer for once.

“Hi, you’ve reached Richard Castle. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but please, leave a message after the beep.” Beep.

Kate doesn’t know what to say, and so she just hangs up. Instead she goes to messages, and starts to type one out. Before she knows it she’s clicked “sent” and can see the message turn delivered before freezing. She actually sent it.

-Please give me a reason to stay in NY.-

To her surprise he answers within seconds.

-What do you mean?-

She takes a deep breath before typing out a reply. -They want me to do a job interview in DC. And right now I can’t see a reason to stay.-

She waits patiently, hoping he will answer soon.

-What makes you think I have a reason? You’ll do whatever you want anyway.-

Ouch. She sighs, thinking about all the conversations she’s had with dr. Burke about her partner. -You’re the only reason I want to stay.- She writes it and sends it before she can regret anything.

When he still hasn’t answered after ten minutes she feels disappointment in the pit of her belly. She lets her phone fall out of her hands before she sets her steps towards her bathroom. Once in there she starts to strip her clothes off. If she showers it won’t be as obvious that she’s crying. He doesn’t want her anymore and he can’t even find the words to say it.

“What are you most afraid of Kate? That he won’t wait for you, or that he will?”

That he won’t, she decides. Everything had been going so great and she knows it’s her fault it’s all falling apart but she can’t for the life of her figure out what she did. It’s killing her not knowing, but she has a feeling that even if she’d get the courage to ask him she wouldn’t get an answer. She’d just get an “We’re fine”.

Kate’s so focused on her thoughts, on trying to calm down her crying and take deep breaths, that she doesn’t hear her phone ring. She doesn’t hear the knocking later on either. It’s not until she’s walking out of the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around her body that she’s realizing she’s not alone. When she sets her foot inside the living room she lets go of a yelp when she sees her partner stand by her front door.

“I-sorry! S-sparekey,” he says as he clenches his eyes shut. “You didn’t answer,” he adds and she holds the towel a little bit tighter around her.

“What are you doing here, Castle?” she questions with a hoarse voice. She hopes he doesn’t figure out it’s because of her crying.

She observes him as he puts his hands over his eyes as if he’s making sure he won’t accidentally look at her.

“You can’t leave New York,” he says and she feels her pulse quicken.

Is he going to say what she’s hoped for during the last week?

“Why not?”

“You’re needed here, your dad is here, Ryan and Espo are here. How are they going to keep their jobs if you’re not there to help them keep the closing rate up? You already have forty-seven reasons to stay so why did you send that text to me? I don’t mean anything to you so why send those texts to me?”

She takes a step back, what makes him think she doesn’t care for him? Again, what did she do?!

“What are you talking about?” she asks, her voice raspy and she can hear the desperation herself.

He sighs and she can tell he’s about as irritated with her as she is with him. Maybe even more. “Call your dad and ask him what to do, you listen more to him than me anyway.” He starts to turn around and she sees his hands go down to reach for her apartment door again.

Oh no. She’s not going to let him get away that easily. Not when he’s the one to come to her apartment. She takes quick steps to put herself in front of him, and therefore in front of the door, blocking his way out. And she’s suddenly well aware of their height difference.

“What are you doing?” he asks and she sees his widened eyes flinch down to her chest before they focus on her eyes.

“What did I do?” she asks, emotion raw in her voice without her intention.

She’s standing here, right in front of him, literally open and naked. Completely vulnerable. With only a towel separating his eyes from seeing her body, her scar.

“Nothing, let…”

“No.” She stops him by putting one hand on his chest. “Don’t lie to me. Castle, I’m… sick and tired of this behavior! Rick, just tell me what I did to make you hate me so much!” she can’t stop the anger and frustration and pain from starting to spill from her eyes as she starts sobbing again. And here she thought she didn’t have any more tears.

She hides her face behind her hands, grateful she’d fastened the towel before she went out to the living room. Her knees start to give out and so she simply lets them, slowly moving down to a seated position on the floor. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to do, if she’s supposed to do anything else.

“Beckett?” she hears his hoarse voice ask before he clears his throat. “Kate, what… what’s going on?”

She shakes her head, she can’t form words anymore. She’s just focusing on her breathing and her attempts to stop the breakdown she’s feeling. Why is this happening right in front of him?

“Hey,” she feels his hands land on her shoulders, his thumbs electrifying against her naked skin. “Deep breaths, Kate, deep breaths,” he says in a slow soothing voice which she finally recognizes as his. The real him.

And so she does what he says, she starts taking deeper breaths to calm herself down. He keeps mumbling the mantra as she feels her body start to relax and find strength again. When she’s breathing normally again she feels his hands let go of her as he’s slumping down on the floor in front of her. She carefully looks through her lashes to glance at him.

“You okay?” he asks when his blue eyes meet hers.

She bites her lower lip before she shakes her head slightly. “No,” she tells him honestly. “One part of me wants to take that job interview to get away from you.”

He gulps. “And the other part?” he asks carefully.

She takes in a shaky breath. “One part of me… just wants… you.” She just whispers the last word, too scared to say it too loud. She’s still scared he’ll leave her and never talk to her again.

“I don’t think I can do this partnership anymore, if you only want me as a partner in crime I… I don’t think I can do it,” he tells her and she feels her insides clench.

“What do you mean? I don’t only want you at the precinct,” she whispers as she looks up at him.

He’s avoiding her eyes, concentrating on the fiddling of a piece of the rug that’s been crippled for months now.

“I heard you,” he confesses and she wrinkles her forehead. “In interrogation you told a suspect you remember everything from your shooting. You heard me telling you that I…” he sighs, “that I love you. And I assumed the reason you haven’t told me is because you don’t feel the same way. I can’t…”

Kate shakes her head violently. “No, that’s not… I was not ready to… hear it or deal with my feelings for you just yet.”

He looks up at her and she looks down as her hand runs through her hair, only to stay at her forehead, leaning against it.

“Your feelings?” he asks and she nods.

“I like you Castle,” she confesses. “I really like you. And the thought of losing you…” she has to stop to try and get the lump down her throat as she sniffs. “Just tell me now if it’s too late for us, because I can’t… I can’t…”

She feels her eyes tearing up again and isn’t able to stop them from going down her cheeks. She knows she won’t be able to talk without breaking down again.

“I still love you, I’ve tried not to but I do,” Castle confesses and Kate feels her heart skip a beat before her insides start to melt with relief.

Without missing another beat she crawls over to him and throws her arms around his neck in a hug. She’s surprised to find herself falling as he’s losing his balance, ending with Kate laying on top of him with his arms around the middle of her body.

“Sorry,” she mutters but doesn’t move away. In fact, she snuggles even closer with her head into his neck.

She hears him gulp as his hands don’t seem to know where to stay on her back. That’s when she realizes she’s still in her towel. Only her towel. She starts to roll off of him, carefully placing her hands to keep the towel from falling off. As soon as she’s off she’s sitting up, eyes on him as he, too, sits up.

“Sorry, I should probably go… get dressed,” she says with a blush exploding on her cheeks. “Will you stay?”

He nods without a word and she has a feeling it’s because he’s surprised about everything. She moves to stand and goes to her bedroom, quickly putting on some clothes, including some black yoga pants and a gray N.Y.P.D. shirt. She picks up the speed as her mind starts to wonder if he’ll actually stay or if he might’ve changed his mind and gone again without saying anything. What if he decides it was a bad idea coming here? The second her shirt is on she’s leaving her towel on the ground to go and find out if her partner is still here. When she returns to the living area she does find him in her kitchen, brewing coffee for the two of them. He looks up at her almost immediately, as if he can feel her coming into the room, or he just heard her.

“You stayed,” she breathes out in relief and he nods.

“I made coffee,” he says as he pours the black beverage into two cups. “Figured we could use some if we’re going to talk.”

“Yeah,” she says in a breath as she nods. “Good thinking.”

As she comes closer he holds out one of the cups for her to take and she accepts it with a smile and a thanks. Once he has his own cup in his hand she’s gesturing towards the couch and they both go there to sit down.

“So,” he says as she takes a sip of her coffee, “you’ve gotten a job offer in D.C.?”

She feels a blush come on. “It’s only an interview, but yeah,” she says.

“And you’re planning on…?” he asks and she looks at him with fear in her eyes.

“No,” she quickly says. “I want… I want to be with you, I want you. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want our partnership to fall apart.”

“I don’t want it to, either,” he says and she smiles. “But,” he says and her smile falters a bit, “does this mean you’re willing to give us a chance?”

She bites her lip as she looks down in her coffee for a second before he looks up again to meet his eyes. “Yes.”

“Good,” he mumbles as he takes another sip from his coffee but keeps his eyes set on hers.

She licks her lower lip and sees his eyes spark in that way they usually do when she flirts with him, or he observes her and she does those little extra teasing acts she does sometimes. Now that she knows he still loves her, she can’t help but feel the want to tease him even more. She pulls up her knees on the couch, setting her arms around them with her cup on top in order to take sips a bit now and then.

“So, do you want to stay for the night?” she asks, stretching her foot towards him to nudge his thigh with her toes.

His eyes widen a bit before they narrow with his lips turning into a smirk. His free hand, the one that doesn’t still hold his cup to his lips, sneaks down and lets his fingers run up and down her foot, making her shiver.

“If you allow me to, I will,” he promises in that deep voice he’s used so many times without even knowing the effect it has on her. He will soon.

She nods, taking the last sip of her coffee before setting the cup on her coffee table. His soon joins hers and she locks eyes with him as soon as his fingers climb from her foot to her knee along with his body growing closer to her. She sits up and meets his lips halfway, the kiss a lot more passionate than either of them had intended. Probably because of all the tension between them that went unanswered for so long. Too long. His hand on her leg doesn’t stop at her knee but keeps stroking its way up to the hem of her shirt where it continues to slide under to end up at her hip, his hand slightly touching her naked skin at the hem of her yoga pants. She gasps at the feel of his thumb stroking her skin and his mouth immediately takes advantage of her parting lips by letting his tongue find hers. As his taste fills her senses she finds herself moaning and one of her hands lands on his cheek, her fingertips moving into his hair as she holds him close. She deepens the kiss which makes him groan with her and she smiles at that, their lips pulling apart.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” she whispers against his lips, her fingers caressing his scalp.

He pulls slightly back in order to look at her and he smiles. She giggles when he kisses her nose carefully. “Always,” he says their promise to her and she feels such relief to hear it once again.

She runs her teeth on her lower lip again as she lets go of his cheek to reach for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m staying,” she says and sees his eyes fill with relief of its own. “I can’t say it just yet but I really want you. Just you.”

“I understand,” he assures her and she nods.

“Good,” she mumbles before she stands up and pulls him with her. “What do you say we go to bed?”

He smirks, but it’s so much more than just a smirk. “Lead the way.”

And so she does. And she doesn’t regret sending that text, desperately needing a reason to stay. She didn’t need the 47 other reasons he suggested she had, she only needed one. Him. And looks like she got it.

The end

#Castle #Caskett #Beckett #Rick Castle #Kate Beckett #Castle fic #Caskett fic

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

“What better way to show you that we’re here for you?”

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

requested: no

word count: 3.4k

warnings: depression!! & some mentions of anxiety, cheating, insecurities; ANGST (sorry!)

A/N: Ughhhh; let me start this by saying there is definitely going to be more to this, i’m just still not sure how much exactly. I normally try to have series like this written out long in advance so I have a more concrete idea and schedule for it, but it’s obviously not happening for this one. I still love this one tremendously so I’m excited to see how it goes, but man I’m breaking my own heart writing it. Anyways, I do apologize for being kinda inactive on here the last week or two. I’ve been stressing out a lot over school and just the holidays, but I’m trying to get things up for you <3 I have a few things written, but it’s just a matter of editing them and then getting them formatted on here and I’ve just been so tired lately. So i apologize & I am trying to get things out here. I have a request or two that I’m working on which I will hopefully have up this week so please just bear with me. Also, reminder!! Please feel free to check out my sleepover event that I’ll be keeping open for another week or so as well as my holiday prompt list for requests!! I love you all and hope you enjoy this part of the story!! Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @whoreforlangdons @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @lauren2408 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! Xx

“Y/n? Are you awake?” You hear hermione ask cautiously, the door creaking slightly as she comes inside your shared dorm room.

You’re not sure what time it is, but it doesn’t really matter right at the moment. All you know is that it’s finally Saturday again and that you didn’t want to get out of bed regardless of whatever time it is.

This past week has been exhausting and you just wanted to sleep it off. You didn’t want to socialize with anyone, you didn’t want to stress about homework, and you certainly didn’t want to move from your current spot.

“I don’t want to be.” You grumble, pulling your blankets up tighter around your head so you were completely buried from your neck down.

“Y/n, you need to come down and eat. You barely eat anything that Harry, Ron, or I bring up for you. We’re worried.”

“Don’t have to be, ‘mione. I’ve dragged myself to the kitchen a few times. I’m not dying.”

You hear her sigh as the side of your bed dips down. You’ve been like this for nearly two weeks now. Ever since the twins told you that they loved you and you said that they couldn’t.

Hermione had you tell her all about it after she saw Fred storm down the stairs from your guys’ dormitory up to his and George’s, George following after him worriedly a couple minutes later, then finding you crying your eyes out alone up here.

She knew that you loved the two redheads, but she could also completely understand you being wary of their words given your guys’ past on top of how tragically your last relationship ended.

She has been giving you time because she knows you need it, but three weeks is concerning without even considering that you’re barely eating and sleeping. Not to mention that you literally drag yourself to your classes as if you’re bound in weighted shackles.

“Maybe not right at this minute, but if you don’t start taking care of yourself you will be.” She states, looking over at you.

She hates seeing you so broken. Sure you were hurt after finding Will cheating on you and the whole smoke-bomb-under-your-fork thing with the twins, but this is far worse. You honestly look like a ghost of a person and it’s terrifying.

“I’m just...not hungry, ‘mione. You’re not going to force me to eat if I can’t, are you?”

“Y/n, I know you’re hurting, but you’re hurting the rest of us as well by not taking care of yourself.” Hermione starts, looking over at you.

“Harry and Ron, they don’t show it well, but they’re worried about you. Those two boys. They’re worried. About you. They hardly ever worry.”

“Not to mention how worried I am. You look as if your soul has been sucked from your body, which is saying something because even with Will you didn’t look this terrible.”

“And I don’t even need to point out how worried McGonagall is. She’s constantly asking whether you’re okay or not, both to you and the rest of us.”

“And I know it probably doesn’t seem it, but Fred and George? They’re worried too, y/n. They’re always watching you during classes to see if you’re okay and they both look for you at meals. I honestly think they’re starting to go crazy since you haven’t been down to any meals lately.”

“You have so many people worried, y/n. So many people that care.” Hermione finishes, watching as you take in a shuddering breath.

You don’t like worrying people or upsetting them, but you just can’t keep pushing. You feel as if every breath is a chore and that your chest is hollow; it feels as if your heart has just got up and left, only leaving behind an aching hole.

You thought that you would be okay, you went to classes the day after their confession, but you couldn’t handle the way the twins were looking at you. Fred looked so angry and took it out by flirting with any other girl he could, but you could see through the anger to all the hurt that you caused. You hated knowing you hurt him so bad that he had to let it out as anger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were much too confused of your own feelings to even consider comforting anyone else.

George on the other hand just looked so torn. He looked hurt, sure, but he seemed to be showing more worry for you than anything. It’s as if he doesn’t care what he’s feeling at all and it bothered you. You knew your words had hurt him and yet he just doesn’t seem to care. He still wants nothing more than to be there for you and it was just too confusing. You couldn’t understand how he still wanted to be there for you when you had essentially told him he didn’t know what he was feeling.

The following day wasn’t any better nor the day after that. They kept giving you the same looks, if they’d even look at you. George seemed to never look away from you when you were around whereas Fred tried everything in his power to not have to look at you.

On top of that, they wouldn’t talk to you, but you knew they were talking about you. And then you just kept seeing them everywhere. It was as if you became hyperaware of their presence which you very much did not want to happen.

You let out a choked sob as everything hits you again and hermione frowns, wrapping her arms around you. She wanted to take all of this pain away, but she really had no idea how. She always had a solution and yet she didn’t have one to this.

“I don’t like this, ‘mione. I don’t like any of it.” You sob, the hole in your chest aching.

~.~

Hermione finally got you calmed down enough to where you could breathe and convinced you to come down for breakfast, promising that as soon as she was happy she would do whatever you wanted, whether that be go to library, go for a walk, or just hang out in the common room.

“Everyone’s going to stare at me, ‘mione. I don’t want them to stare.” You sigh, feeling jittery as your nerves begin acting up.

“Take a breath, y/n. Just walk along beside me and no one will stare.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your anxiety, but it doesn’t do much. You still feel like you’re going to be sick.

As soon as you walk through the doors to the great hall, you snap your head down. You don’t want to look at anyone and you don’t want them looking at you. You figure the best way to make that happen is just look away from it all.

Unfortunately, you glance up just as your passing by the spot where Fred and George sit when they aren’t with you guys. If you could go back just those few seconds to not have to see the looks on their faces, you would do so without a second thought.

Fred was surprised to see you, his worry for you showing through only momentarily before he’s smiling at some girl beside him. George, however, was a mix of relief, complete worry, and total devastation. Looking at the two of them made your stomach flip and your heart sink.

“Breathe, y/n.” Hermione reminds you and you nod looking over at her as you try not to be sick.

“Y/n!” Ron smiles as you and hermione sit down.

“Hey, Ron. Harry.” You greet as the two light up at your presence.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, concern written in his facial features.

“Like I’m going to be sick, honestly. I don’t know how hermione talked me into coming down here.”

He smiles sadly at you, knowing how much pain you’re in and wishing there was something - anything - he could do.

“Well, grab something. It doesn’t have to be a lot, y/n, but you need to eat.” Hermione urges and you nod, taking a single pancake and a few pieces of bacon. You doubt you’ll even be able to eat that, but you’d at least try.

Just as you go to take your first bite, now realizing how hungry you truly are by the way your stomach cramps, George takes a seat next to you, facing you.

“Y/n-“

“George, now really isn’t a good time.” Hermione states, frowning at the redhead.

“I just, I need to-“

“She needs to eat. It’d be better if the reason she hasn’t been eating wasn’t sitting right beside her.”

“I know, I just-“

“Bloody hell, George. Just leave y/n alone for godricks sake! I can’t stand to see my friend hurt anymore because of you and Fred.” Ron snaps, glaring at his older brother.

“Ron,” Harry warns.

You bite your lip at his outburst. On one hand it’s nice to know that he care so deeply for you, but on the other it made you even more anxious. You didn’t like when people fought.

“That’s not fair, Ron. You know how I feel about her. I just need to see how she is.” George frowns, hurt by his younger brother’s words.

You curl up into yourself, wishing to Merlin you could just disapparate from here and right now. You didn’t want people fighting over you, especially if it was Ron with his brothers.

“Please stop.” You choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t want to handle any of this.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” Hermione frowns, having only convinced you to come here so you could eat and she would know. She never wanted to give you more to deal with.

“Not your fault, ‘mione.” You say, trying to give her a small smile, but it was harder than you remember.

“Sorry, y/n.” Ron mumbles sincerely yet still glaring at his brother beside you.

“It’s fine.” You whisper, staring at your plate of uneaten food.

“Are you really not going to eat?” You hear George ask as he watches you stare at your plate, gently pushing the food around after a few seconds.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bollocks, y/n. I haven’t seen you down here in two weeks and I know for a fact you don’t come down to the kitchens nearly enough to make up for skipping meals. You’re not going to starve yourself.” He states firmly, but not in anger.

“I’m not.”

“Please just eat. Godrick, y/n, I can’t stand watching you not take care of yourself.”

“I can’t, George.” You nearly whisper, trying desperately not to let your tears fall.

Sure it sounds like you’re telling him that you just can’t eat, but there’s so much more meaning behind it and you know that he understands it. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, you can’t stop crying, you can’t stop hurting, you can’t figure out how to stop worrying everyone. You just can’t do anything anymore.

You loved Fred and George so much, you knew it just as much as hermione did, and she was aware of it long before you were. You loved the two of them more than anything, but even though you wanted to believe them saying they loved you, your heart and your mind were holding you back.

Your heart still hurt so much from what Will had done. It’s not even just the cheating anymore, but everything during the relationship as well. He’d tell you he loves you but would never hold you. He’d tell you that you meant the world to him, yet he very rarely kissed you. He was telling you everything he should, but he wasn’t doing anything to back it up. You suppose your heart was just experiencing some trust issues, which in all honesty, no one could blame you for.

Then your head was telling you no. Not for any reason in particular, just no. It wouldn’t let you believe the twins had any sort of feelings for you other than as friend. No matter how much you tried to reason, your brain kept resisting. Some could argue it was your own insecurities telling you no, but in all reality you had no idea whatsoever.

From any angle you were trying to look at, you just couldn’t do anything. You truly felt like a puppet trapped inside its box. You had all this potential to do what was needed, but unless someone else forced you to do it you were useless.

“Hey. Hey, darling. Shh. No reason to cry. I know it’s all really hard and I am so so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. I’m not mad or upset at all. I’m just really worried about you. I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you hurting yourself.” George ushers, gently placing a hand on your back.

He hates seeing you so hurt, but he knows it’s not just because of him and Fred. He’s well aware that you’re still carrying a lot of hurt over Will, even if you don’t show it, not to mention your own insecurities that have had years to imbed themselves in your thoughts. You may have never said any of this out loud, but George knew what was hurting you.

He frowns, sadness completely taking over his features as he looks down at his twin who’s been watching this whole ordeal. He won’t admit it, but Fred has been hurting just as much. He loves you with his very being and would do literally anything for you, but it hurt when you said that he couldn’t love you. He didn’t realize, unlike George, how insecure and broken you were after Will and took your denial of his feelings personally.

He tries to hide the fact of how hurt he is, but George can see through him. In fact, he’s pretty sure most everyone can if they look close enough. He wishes he could take you into his arms and just hold you, tell you that everything is going to be alright, but he can’t let himself.

Watching you nearly break down crying over nothing really happening breaks his heart, however. He wants to walk right over there and pull you into his arms, giving you kisses all over your neck and face until you feel whole again. He wants to make you realize just how perfect you truly are. The only thing that’s stopping him is his pride, which George has already argued with him over.

“Everything hurts...so much.” You whimper, staring at your plate as tears fall down your cheeks.

“Darling...” George frowns, rubbing your back as he’s not sure if you’d let him pull you into a hug.

“I’m sorry. Y-you guys don’t need to see me like this. I’m being selfish, making you all uncomfortable.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

You didn’t like to be the center of attention nor did you like being emotional in front of others. You always felt so weak and pathetic breaking down and you didn’t want anyone else to think that of you.

“It’s alright, y/n. We want to help you, but we don’t know how if you won’t tell us what’s wrong.” Harry speaks gently and you give him a small, grateful smile, your bottom lip quivering slightly at the onslaught of emotions building up inside you.

“Can you try eating a bit, sweetheart? Then we can take you back to the common room where you can let it all out.” George suggests and you shrug, wiping at your cheeks.

You really are hungry, but your just really not sure if you can eat anything. Looking at the food is turning your stomach.

“Y/n, just take one bite. Just to start with.” You hear hermione encourage you and you sigh, stabbing the bite you were about to take when George sat down and shoving it in your mouth.

You chew it slowly, your stomach clenching at the thought of food entering it and not sure if it’s going to accept or reject it.

“Swallow.” George instructs, watching as your face crunches up as you try to figure out which way your stomach is going to go.

He knows that if you just take it slow, eventually when you get enough in your stomach it’ll be fine; it’ll be happy. It’s just getting you to that point he has to worry about.

~.~

Eventually you eat enough to please everyone and they let you head back to the common room. Granted, they all had to come along, George holding you up as you walk because of how weak you feel.

You all sit on the couch; Ron and Harry sitting next to each other, you leaning up against George as he holds you, and hermione sitting next to you on the other side of George.

“You guys don’t have to do this, you know.” You mumble, not really sure how to feel about your friends just sitting here in silence with you.

“What better way to show you that we’re here for you?” Ron responds, smiling at you.

“Yeah, you don’t have to talk if you don’t feel like it. All you have to know is that we’re here if you want to.” George agrees.

You smile slightly, your heart starting to feel something other than ache. How you got to be so lucky with these friends you weren’t sure. They were more than you could have ever asked for, but you really weren’t sure what you’d do without any one of them.

~.~

“How is she doing, Georgie?” You hear someone whisper in your half sleep.

You’re not sure quite how long ago it was, but you had fallen asleep laying there against George as your friends sat with you. As they promised, they weren’t trying to get you to talk, but just sat there so you knew you had them if needed.

It confused you as to how you were able to let George hold you and care for you so easily. You were sure you didn’t want either him or Fred around, but the second he was there you just gave in. Sure you had felt comfortable and safe with the two, but they were part of the reason you were hurting so bad. So why was it so easy to ignore that and let him comfort you?

“She’s in a lot of pain, Freddie. I can’t imagine for how long and I don’t know how long it’ll take her to start feeling better, but this wasn’t just some random outburst. I think she’s been holding a lot in and it finally just got to be too much.”

You sigh, turning slightly into the couch, trying to shut out the light and sound that had started to seep through. You were still so tired, all your sleepless nights finally catching up to you.

“I hate myself for making her hurt so much. I just, I really love her.” The first voice speaks, seeming to choke up at the end.

“I don’t think it’s us that upset her, Freddie. I get the feeling Will wasn’t as good to her as she pretends he was. Not to mention how much it messes with your head to be cheated on. On top of that, I get the feeling she has some pretty deep insecurities she hides real well normally.”

“I just want to help her. I want her to realize how much we love her and how amazing she is. Merlin, George.” The voice chuckles, sniffling a bit as if they were about to cry.

“I love you.” You mumble, not even realizing you’re saying it. All you know is that you need to. Your heart is finally starting to warm up and you know it’s because of the two redheads sitting here with you, even though you haven’t registered that’s who is with you. You know you love them and that they love you given the fact they’re both here with you, wanting to comfort you, even though you had said some pretty mean things to them.

Before you can register any of this, you’re fast asleep again, sighing contently as you unconsciously pull the blanket, that hermione had covered you with after a while, tighter around your shoulders.

The twins watch you happily. Confused, but happy. You have been through some pretty rough water, but maybe there is a chance for you three after all.

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black-rose-writings · 3 years

Text

Reading Siege and Storm because I hate myself

To begin, I’d like to state that this is my first read-through and I only have vague idea of the plot I’ve gathered from fanfics and tumblr posts.

Long post ahead

Chapter 1

So... at first I was like - huh, this isn’t as bad as I thought, but the moment Alina gets introspective, it all goes to hell.

Like, she’s being physically made sick by not using her powers, which is making her feel useless - like, she says, pretty much verbatim: “The only thing I was ever good at was being a Sun Summoner and I’m not that anymore.”

I’m gonna beat those paragraphs over the head of anyone, who says Alina got a good ending.

I’ve also noticed just how often the like “I pushed that thought away” is used and more often than not, it’s used on thoughts that should probably not be pushed away.

Ah, yes, here he comes, my boy Darkles, being the dramatic bitch he always is. We get it, you’re the hot villain, tempting the good and pure heroine away from being good and pure.

And I’m just now realizing how many times in this chapter has Alina lamented their lack of privacy. We have to ensure the reader doesn’t hink she’s *gasp* sleeping with Mal.

Chapter 2

What?

Alina is tripping balls while being put under by a Heartrender, got it.

Darkling is being the voice of reason, but I’m getting the distinct feeling it won’t last.

Ivan gets one point, because Alina is in fact a traitor, but he’s also being a cunt, so it doesn’t really count.

Alina at Sturmhond: Do you even care about Ravka?

Me at Alina: Do you?

Chapter 3

“Mermaids are not real”. I’m pretty sure they are in the Grishaverse.

My boy Darkles is still making sense, but Alina is dedicated to being against him just for the hell of it, it seems.

Did this bitch just throw a tantrum, because he told her, what we can assume is the truth? Okay. Like, I get that she’s at best 18, but still. Not exactly the type of protagonist whose head I like being in.

And in that moment, dozens of smut fics were born.

Chapter 4

Wow, that was quick.

Aaand. What had just happened?

Chapter 5

Sturmhond is a funny bitch, I’ll give him that.

And this entire conversation, it seems like Mal’s entire purpose is to stand behind Alina threateningly and repeat what she said, lol.

I’d like to remind Alina (and LB) that a king in an absolutist monarchy (which is what Ravka appears to be) is very much a tyrant. Don’t make it sound like Ravka didn’t have a tyrant before. And at the very least, my boy Darkles seems pretty competent.

A man calling himself a Storm Dog likes dogs. No shit.

Chapter 6

I hate Mal. Dude, this is your girlfriend, maybe like... listen to her? Don’t bludgeon her with the one other guy she was kinda-sorta with, when you are a well known manwhore?

I don’t know man, I don’t like him.

Everyone: You can’t have more than one amplifier, it’s dangerous.

Alina: Haha, sparkles go brrrr

Chapter 7

In other news, pirates are funny.

Holy shit, they have a plane.

That was... a lot. And we’re crossing the Fold again, yay.

Chapter 8

You feel bad for the Volcra but not for the people you’ve left for dead in the Fold last time? Okay.

Baby Volcra. Am I supposed to say “ew” or “aww”? If I tried doing both at the same time, it would probably sound like one.

Jesus fucking Christ this book is a ride.

Did Alina really just have an “oh no, he’s hot?” moment? *sighs*

Puppy boy has a title longer than Daenerys, jesus.

Alina, my dear, you could have waited for a bit before doing that. There’s like thirty soldier with guns around you and you’ve just punched a prince.

Then again, you’ve never been smart, have you?

Chapter 9

For once, I completely agree with him. I know you two have lost your one shared braincell on that first crossing of the Fold but still, that was very dumb of you, Alina.

I’m starting to get why people were calling Nikolai “Darkling light”. Definitelly seems appropriate.

Mal, calm the fuck down, that was the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard and you know it.

You two didn’t even let Alina get a word in for the last page. What right do you have to her, Mal, huh? Nikolai is making sense and you’re being an idiot.

What’s your deal Mal? What the fuck do you want?

And why in the hell are you the endgame love interest?

That’s an awful lot of guilt-tripping you’re doing there, Mal. No need to be pissy about it.

Chapter 10

The bones thing is definitelly yikes.

Saints, Mal, are you on your period or something? Alina doesn’t belong to you. Alina can make her own choices. Get a grip.

“You think I’m like the Darkling?” Yes. The Darkling isn’t all bad. You’re at war. No need to get your panties in a twist over a few fingers.

Oh, look, Alina has a cult now, nice.

Chapter 11

Your “dad” is a rapist, Nikolai. Quite possibly a pedo. He got exactly what he deserved.

I’d go for the second option. Especially after that stunt. Jesus, you could have asked her beforehand.

At least Darkles had the decency to make out with her in private.

Also like... why is every single person in this series so far an asshole?

Chapter 12

We meet the King again, unfortunately.

Alina gets Darkles’s old job.

This should be a total disaster, but let’s see where it goes anyway.

Chapter 13

Alina’s nuts, yay.

(I know they have a Force-bond-thingy. I also know they did it before Reylo did.)

Chapter 14

Oh boy, Alina’s not doing as bad as I thought.

For the 100th time in this book, I wish I had Nikolai’s confidence. Though it is getting a bit too much.

Puppy boy is dropping some truth bombs. Nice.

But he doesn’t realize that my boy Darkles has very good reasons to not align with Fjerdans - a) they think he’s a demon and b) they want Grisha dead.

I’m not gonna say she was, but like... the monarchy is very much corrupt.

Oh, boy, Baghra. This one’s gonna go well.

Yep, Baghra’s as pleasant as ever.

So... Baghra’s plan in book 1 really had been to just have Alina run away and hope for the best? Jesus Christ, lady. I’m not saying she deserved to have her eyes taken away, but she is definitelly a trash person and I’m not surprised her son turned out the way he did.

Also, I’m fairly certain that Baghra is literally slowly killing herself - that the reason she looks so old and frail is because she’s started to supress her power and it’s literally killing her, because, you know, she’s bonkers old.

Chapter 15

Nerd Alina > Self-pitying Alina

Also, I’m just saying, Alina comments on Zoya being attractive a whole lot - I get that she’s meant to be insecure, but I’m interpreting it as her being gay, because I need some happiness in my life, okay?

Just kill the sleazy old Rasputin-wanna-be. There’s plenty of them to go around in this series.

Chapter 16

Vasily takes after his father in creep factor.

Why not the Darkling being courted by a horny prince? Be a bit creative.

Chapter 17

Nikolai has big ADHD energy and I love him for it. Fits right in with the heavily autism-coded Fabricators.

*sighs at heteronormativity again*

*sighs at improper gendering of titles*

Date night with Mal. This is gonna be a disaster, isn’t it?

Chapter 18

Fun night of cultural appropriation, yay.

I hate cultists.

LET. ALINA. GO. FERAL. Please.

You two are going to give me a headache, I swear.

Darkles cockblocking Alina. And Malice threw a tantrum. Nice.

Chapter 19

You’re way too harsh on Genya, Alina.

Horny Alina rights.

They have a laser, now. Cool. Or, well, enormously hot.

Mal is being a drunk a-hole. Great. When does he become likable? Does he ever?

Banter between Mal and Alina? Kinda weird, always somehow comes back to either of them being insecure.

Banter between Alina and Nikolai? I’m all for it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a Darklina trash, but like... Nikolai is fun. I could see him and Alina having an arranged political marriage and ending up falling in love years into it, that’s all I’m saying.

Chapter 20

Just let this one go, Alina, please. You two are not working out. Please, end it with him. You’ll both probably be happier. (I’m saying this with the full knowledge that Malina is endgame).

Jesus Alina, get your shit together. You have every right to be mad, because you two didn’t actually break up, you didn’t kiss Nikolai and also, I don’t like Mal.

Sooo... when is Alina going to realize her manchild of a boyfriend is an amplifier?

Chapter 21

Alina has the horny sickness, lol.

Jesus Christ, girl, I don’t want to read your vaguely suicidal thoughts.

Mal, you fucking idiot.

Alina, stop defending Mal.

Chapter 22

Alina has a logical thought? Impossible.

Finally, some action.

Chapter 23

Oh, boi, this is going great.

Oh, boi, Alina’s having another martyr moment.

And, we’re done.

Finally.

That was a ride. Nothing really happens for like ten chapters and then everything happens in one and a half.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #siege and storm #review #darklina #anti mal #I guess #reading binges like this yeet me right back into middle school

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years

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How are we supposed to fix the friggin’ sun? (Or: Andrew Dabb had planned this all along.)

I was thinking about 11x23 Alpha and Omega. I was going to simply make a very gloat-y post about the sheer GLEE that pervades me about being right on why the car scene in 11x23 was written, filmed and acted like that. It was SUPPOSED to be jarring and to feel wrong. It was supposed to make Cas believe that Dean thought of him as a brother, because Dean believed that that’s what Cas would be happy to hear. And it was filmed from a lopsided angle, the way scenes are filmed when they’re supposed to feel wrong. And the actors made the characters look uncomfortable, in different ways.

So, yeah. Andrew Dabb has planned it all along and I TOLD you. Dabb slammed there the premises for what is happening right now. He played hard on the miscommunication so that the journey would feel realistic and the resolution even more satisfying.

I’m sorry, I’m a humble person normally, but we just got explicitly romantic Destiel (*pauses* *screams* *coughs* okay we can continue now) so I think I deserve my minute of self-celebration. That scene in the car in my eyes looked like it couldn’t be anything but the grounds for the very development we got. Just like, well, everything else, but I remember very well all the crap that specific scene got while I was there like... it’s on purpose, guys...

But then I thought more about that episode and more things clicked in my mind. So, self-celebrating part over. Let’s get to the serious things.

So. You know how 11x23 had the whole “Amara is eating the sun” thing going on? Well. My thesis here is that that was a metaphor-slash-foreshadowing-slash-mirror-slash-whatever-you-want-to-call-it for “the Empty has eaten Cas”.

Lucifer is gone. Amara ripped him from my body.

The repression is gone, the Empty ripped him away from me by pushing me to talk about my feelings.

It looks like the sun is— Dying. Why would Amara do that? The sun is the source of all life on earth. Without it, everything just... just wastes away.

Yeah Cas is the sun and Dean is earth, I don’t have to explain it. We know what happens to Dean when Cas is gone.

Look, man. If you’ve got something for me to punch, shoot, or kill, let me know and I’ll do it. I’ll do it till I die. But how are we supposed to fix the friggin’ sun?

Ah, Dean’s classic “I only have 1 skill and it’s violence” speech. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill and because that’s all I know how to do.

Back then, he didn’t think he could fix the sun, but he did. He fixed the sun by talking to Amara with compassion and respect, by appealing to feelings and love, by asking Amara to see a different way, by literally telling her “Put aside the rage. Put aside the hate. And you tell me... what do you want?”.

And now it’s Cas that addesses Dean just like Dean had addressed Amara. Not really in what they say, context and all is completely different, but the point was that Amara was told for the first time that she could be more than her anger and pain. Amara changed because Dean told her that she could open herself up to love and beauty. And Cas tells Dean that he is more than his anger and pain, that he’s so full of love that he teaches it to others. (Just what happened in 11x23, in fact. Dean’s loved saved Cas, saved the world.)

In 11x23, the answer to “how are we supposed to fix the friggin’ sun?” was that no, Dean was wrong about himself, he can do more than kill. And now, the answer to “how am I supposed to save Cas?” is exactly what Cas has told him after his speech about only knowing how to kill. Love.

And now to what I expect to be relevant in the near future:

W-What are we doing? Nothing. Exactly. Amara’s out there eating the freaking sun, and—and we’re doing nothing. And you have a better idea? Yes. Anything. That’s my better idea, because anything is better than this.

This was Sam prodding the others. I wonder if Sam will encourage Dean to do something about Cas, or Dean will enter ‘I gotta do something about this’ mode after something snaps him out of hopelessness.

Then the car scene

How you doing? You good? I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing. I was just... so stupid. No, no, no. It wasn’t stupid. You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun. Me and Sam wouldn’t have done that. Well, it didn’t work. No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up. I was just trying to help. Well, and you do help, Cas.

Of course Dean was trying to be nice, but, as we’ve discussed to the moon and back, Cas hears that his “help” is valued. We know why Cas had said yes to Lucifer, he didn’t think he could help in any other way, that he was “expendable” (“I’ve heard the stories. You help. But Sam and Dean Winchester are the real heroes.”) and that he has value in the measure he contributes to the cause. Compare to (tumblr decided that blackquote doesn’t work anymore, sorry for the aesthetic blip)

How you feeling? You’ve been quiet. How long have you been waiting to ask me that? I guess I didn’t want to overwhelm you. […] I wanted to make things right, and now… I don’t know why I’m even here. Jack. You never needed absolution from Sam or Dean or from me. We don’t care about you because you’re useful or you fit into some grand design. We care about you because you’re good.

I don’t even have to discuss the parallels between the soul bomb plot and the current plot, but that’s not the point here. The point is... this has been a long way in the coming and we’ve seen it coming all the way through.

Thoughts on this?

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 11x23 #spn 15x18 #destiel #spn

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warrior-angel · 3 years

Text

Till Death Do us Apart

Author: @warrior-angel

Word Count: 6155

Summary: when you and your brother both get infected by the flare you go down an emotional rollercoaster only for it to end totally diffrent than you had originaly planned it al to go.

Warnings: major character death, blood, angst,

Note: this was realy hard to write for me but i'm very proud of it so i hope you guys like it

This is a one shot writen for Tomuary by @writingsbychlo

you knew you were a walking time bomb and that you probably didn't have long anymore every day could be your last you just hoped you would make it long enough to see your friend being saved.

The flare, a stuppid virus that made you go completely insane, you've kept your sanity in all those years in the Maze and now that you were finally free you wouldn't live to see the beauty of it. Here you were leaning on the table listing to Thomas and Gally picking a fight over what to do next you had to save Minho from WICKED but every idea was turned down it being to risky and now that there was a real option to extualy get the job done Thomas was refusing to do it and you were just trying to keep your mind from not completely losing it over this endless ‘i don't trust you even though it could save our lives thing’ you loved Thomas that's the hole reason you were together but sometimes he could be so stubborn and right now, right now he was being a pain in the ass because the plan Gally had to save Minho included Teresa “No there's gotta be another way” Thomas kept saying while everybody disagreed knowing we didn't have much choice or resources to do anything else “like what? you’ve seen the building she’s our only way in'' Gally tells him again but he still doesn't listen. “If we do get in you think she’s going to help us?” Thomas ask him and Gally shakes his head “I don't Plan on asking for her permission” i crack a little smile knowing nobody at the table really liked teresa in the first place and Brenda only conformers that when she's speaking up “Am i missing something here this is the same girl that betrayed us correct? same Dick”

Thomas starts to nervously pace around and nobody understands his problem. You loved Teresa like a sister but after her betrayal a lot changed even for you “what's going on?” Brenda asks him and you look over at Newt you knew your brother and you knew that look on his face because you've had it yourself and you've seen it on him before he was angry and he was going to lose it any second now “your afraid your little girlfriend is going to get hurt?” Newt snaps and all eyes go to him “this has obviously never been just about rescuing Minho is it''

Thomas looks taking back by his sudden outburst and so does everybody else but i couldn't disagree “he’s got a point Tommy” you tell him and the brown haired boy looks up at you even more shocked that your agreeing with Newt “what are you talking about” but before you can do or say anything Newt stands up straight in front of him “Teresa, she's the only reason Minho is even missing in the first place and now we finally have an opportunity to get him back and what you don’t want to because of her? because deep down inside you care more about her than for y/n don't you, just admit it”

Thomas turns his gaze over to you over Newt his shoulder and you know Your brother hit an emotional string there. from day one you were Teresa her competition and you knew how thomas felt about her but he chose you over her and that meant the world to you but this part of you that was Sick and infected was telling you that the minute you would be gone he would run to Teresa “Newt i” Thomas starts but All Newt does is move closer pushing Thomas against the wall “Don’t lie to me!”

“Newt calm down!” You yell getting closer but your brother doesn't move “Don’t lie to me” he tells Thomas again “Newt Get the off of him!” You say using every ounce of strength to pull him away from Thomas. As soon as he backs away he looks a bit shocked at his own actions looking between you and your friends mumbling a quick apology before turning towards Thomas and apologizing again. the minute he steps to the side wanting to walk away, wanting to leave the room you notice him grabbing onto his arm and you immediately fear the worst cause you've had the same outbursts and the same burning sensation in your arm right after you had an outburst like that. “y/n, i'' Thomas says towards you and you shake your head not wanting to talk about it “it’s fine, he just need to cool down”

“That's not what i mean” and you nod “i know”

you stand on your toe’s giving him a quick kiss on his cheek and giving him a reassuring smile “i’ll go check on Newt i’m probably the only one he’ll talk to you guys find a way to get Minho back”

Opening the door to the roof you can see Newt sitting on the edge of the building and you take a few steps closer trying to calm yourself down already knowing the truth about what just happened what had caused his outburst but still a part of you hoped it was just the tension and the time spend so close togheter that caused it instead of a stupid virus. Looking over his shoulder newt spots you standing behind him and you take a few steps closer “sorry bout that back there” he tells you but you don't say anything you just sit down beside him and look at his arm and seeing the twitching in his fingers and it looks all too familiar to you “Why didn't you tell me?” you ask him and he looks over at you but you just look at his arm and he Rolls up his sleeve Revealing multiple black and purple veins on his lower arm “you could’ve told me” you tell him but you knew your brother, you were the same you didnt wanna spend your last few weeks or even days saying goodbye to the people you loved

“I didn't think it would make any difference” he was right knowing it didn't change a thing it only made saying goodbye so much harder because you didn't know when you had to do it “All i know is that WICKED must off put us in that Maze for a reason, maybe it was literally just so they could tell the difference between the immunes like you and people like me” that only made it hurt more because he didn't know, he didn't know you were not Immune “people like us” you tell him and he looks confused. taking a deep breath you lift your leg up a little and move away to Fabric covering your ankle to show Newt the bite mark and torn skin that was covered in black and purple veins “it was that Crank that Fry shot when we were in the tunnel right before Brenda and Jorge saved us, his aim was good only a little bit to late” you explain

it stays silent between the two of you for a minute letting it sink it that you were going to lose each other to lose everybody you loved “Thomas?” He asks and you shake your head “he doesn't know, and he cant i'm not spending my last days saying goodby to him he needs to focus on Saving Minho”

“So what's your plan? You just wanna run off, leave us all behind and die on your own?” Newt asks in a harsh tone “No, i’m sticking to the plan and that's saving Minho”

“What you gonna do after that” and you swallow the lump in your throat “There won't be an after cause i’m not planning on surviving it and that's exactly why he doesn't know”

“who doesn't know?” a familiar voice says behind the two of you you both look back to see The brown haired boy and you turn your gaze to Newt pleading for him to stay quiet and he nods looking back to this arm “i guess i can't hide this anymore'' he tells Thomas rolling his sleeve up again “Newt we can still fix this” thomas tells him and you look between both boys being trapped in the triangle of losing not only yourself but also your brother and the boy you love

That night you all decide to go through with the plan, get Teresa, make her take out the chips in your necks and break into WICKED to get out Minho and that's exactly how things went. having Teresa back was weird to say the least nobody trusted her but right now she was sitting behind you with a small knife against your neck to cut out the chip you didn't really have a choice “try to relax this is going to sting” she tells you and shrug it off wanting to get it over with “just do it”

a sharp pinch follows within a few second you grab the chair tightly out of reflex and you put your feet flat on the Floor trying not to move but moving your leg past the Chair the zipper on your Jeans opens showing her the black veins beneath it “your leg” she says and you pull back leaning down the close the zipper and pull the fabric over your ankle down “What happened?” She asks but you ignore her completely

“are you done” you tell her harshly looking straight up at her “you two okay?” Thomas asks from across the room and you nod “yeah, where fine” you tell him grabbing a small piece of gauze and holding it to your neck “does he-” but you cut her off talking a little softer making sure nobody hears “No, he doesn't and he won't cause your going to keep your mouth shut and not talk to anybody about it you ruined enough as it is”

“if you come back to the lab with me i could help you give you a-”

“just drop it alright!” you yell getting everybody's attention “Whats going on here?” Gally asks and you shake your head “Nothing, there's absolutely nothing” you tell him walking of Looking over at your brother And then to the brown haired boy that is already on his feet and coming towards you and taking you away from Teresa and away from the others for a second “hey, whats going on with you?” he asks and you shake your head “i’m just one edge i just really want this to work” and the boy nods understanding and giving a quick peck on your lips cupping your cheeks “well get Minho back and we'll all be safe i promise” you look over at your brother on the other side of the Room and Thomas seems to understand “We’ll save Newt well get the cure and he’ll be fine”

“Promise me that after saving Minho you’ll try to save Newt no matter what” and he nods “where is this coming from?” He asks but you just look at him “Promise me Thomas”

“I Will, i promise i Will try to save Newt no matter what” you give Him a weak smile knowing that your brother might survive this all and that made you feel good you where going to save your friends, your family even though you know there was only enough to save one of you two and you knew it wasn't going to be you “You know i love you right?” He tells him and he leans down a little kissing you with more passion than before “i love you too, until Death do us apart” it was a small thing you two said in the glade and in the scorch when something happened but right now it only made you sad cause the small Joke that first meant you loved on another and would stick together would soon turn into reality and probably Faster than he hoped.

The plan worked, you got into WICKED, you saved Minho and you got out of the building with only minor issues but the adrenaline and the fast work took its toll on Newt, His body was shutting down and it was getting harder for yourself to keep things hidden from Thomas or anybody else for that matter.“They were supposed to blow up WICKED not the whole damn city!” Gally says as the walls explode and cars full of angry people coming rushing into the city. pushing us to the side we all sit down against a wall in an alley trying to get away from the explosions and Thomas crawls to the side and you pull his arm “where are you going” you ask him but he is quickly sitting back next to you as he sees WICKED’s cars rushing in “shit”

“what are they waiting for?” Minho asks “Like i have a clue” you answer and like it was planned a loud explosion goes off again and gunfire starts to blast out on the street “we gotta go!” Gally calls out and we sneak into an old dinner to stay sheltered from it all. Sitting in the back of the restaurant you sit against Thomas his chest and his hand goes around your waist as both of you breath heavily for the first time sitting still and letting everything that happened sink in looking between the gunfire outside and Gally,Newt and Minho you know things aren't looking very good for the five of you. Thomas loosens the hand on your waist and grabs the walkie from his pocket “brenda, are you there” and almost immediately she answers “Thomas, i’m here” you grab the walkie from his hands looking around seeing your brother getting worse the fire and fight going on outside and Thomas behind you before answering her “Bren, there's too much going on and i don't think we're going to make it”

“y/n? what are you talking about” she says clearly holding back tears making it harder for yourself to hold it back and you hand to Walkie back to Thomas while swallowing the lump in your throat “you should take the others and get everybody out while you still can” and i doesn't take long for Brenda her protest to come through

“No” and tears roll down your cheeks knowing how hard it is for them so putting your hand over Thomas you hold down the buttons “brenda, you need to go” you tell her hoping she will listen to you “i’m not leaving you two okay so forget it”

“Even though you should,” Thomas tells her and it stays silent for a while you sit up a little with a few tears in your eyes and you grab onto Thomas's hand tighter than before. part of you hoped it was going to be over cause it meant you never had to tell him the truth but the other part wanted him to survive and live his life at the fullest “we started this together might as well end it that way” you tell him and he smiles “you sound like your brother” and you laugh a little looking over at him “till death do us apart right” Thomas Jokes and you nod turning our head far enough to kiss him

“Thomas! y/n! don't worry i’m coming for you” and both Thomas and you look at each other and you act quick taking the walkie out of his hands “what are you talking about?”

“our rides here, look for us near the tunnels”

After walking out of the building Gally takes the lead cause he knew the place the best and he led you all towards the tunnels. At the end of the street a loud blow is heard and a car blows up in front of you all making you fall over and you're once again stuck hiding behind a wall “were almost here” Gally says staking low trying to look for a way through the fight without much trouble but a bright flash of light above you all making you look up seeing the berg flying overhead heading towards the tunnels “There here” you say in a whisper looking at Thomas having hope for your brother once again knowing Brenda had the cure to save him

“go without me, just go” Newt spills and you all look at him, veins starting to crawl up his neck and towards his face and black blood coming from his mouth

and you knew he wasn't going to last long anymore “Minho, you gotta run ahead grab the serum and get back as soon as you can” you tell him and he looks at you not agreeing with it but Thomas nods “Minho, go”

“there right, i’ll cover” Gally tells him and i nod once silently thinking him

“y/n, bring one for y/n” Newt says and you shut him up “what is he talking about?” Thomas asks and you shake your head “Nothing I'm fine it’s just the infection getting to his head” you tell him turning to Minho “You need to go Now!

“just hang on, you hear me,” Minho tells Newt and with those words he runs off getting the serum to save your brother. Newt his head turns to the side and you can see he's fading away but you grab onto him shaking him trying to get him to focus on you and trying to stay awake “Newt! stay with me do you hear me, i need you to stay focused”

“We've gotta get you up” Thomas says, grabbing onto Newt his arm but he protests reaching for his necklace and ripping it from his neck “come on Newt we've gotta go!” Thomas tells him again and tears run down your eyes as Newt holds out the necklace towards Thomas you knew it was the letter he wrote, you were there with him

“Newt, your gonna make it”. I tell him but he keeps his hand out for Thomas

“Just take it!” he yells breathing heavily and Thomas takes the necklace from him holding his hand tight “please, Tommy please” as the words pass by his lips your body starts shutting down and you start coughing letting your body drop next to Newts “y/n!” Thomas yells and you nod “i’m okay, it's just smoke” you lie and you look towards Newt and you can see in his eyes that he knows you're not far behind him “tell him, you need to tell him” Newt says and you shake your head “you need to keep your mouth shut, the plan is going the way it should” you tell him before turning to look at Thomas “tell me what?” Thomas asks and you shake your head holding onto your sanity and pushing yourself up again “The plan about saving Minho it's working now we've gotta save Newt your helping or not?”

“She’s Sick” Newt spits and Thomas looks at you “i’m fine just tired” And Thomas nods he knew you hadn't been sleeping much being concerned about newt but the truth was you didnt wanna risk him seeing the Infection in your leg you had enough time to sleep when this was over. “We need to get out of here” you tell him and Thomas nods, helping you lift up Newt and Making your way closer to the tunnels.

after a few blocks of walking your knees give up on you and you drop to the ground Newts body collapsing onto Thomas and dropping to the ground before you “Y/n?” Thomas ask and you look up at him “I’m Sorry Thomas” you tell him knowing your plan was not working you weren't going to make it and your idea to walk away the minute your brother was save wasn't going to work, if you were shutting down this fast then Newt was even worse knowing that the body in front of you wasn't your Brother anymore but the Infection that caught up with him and took over his brain.

suddenly the street goes quiet and Teresa her voice comes through “thomas? can you hear me, i need you to listen to me i know you have no reason to trust me but i need you to come back, Thomas you can save Newt you can save y/n, there's still time for the Both them” you start coughing and looking at your hand you see black blood and you lift your head up al little to look at thomas you give him a silent apologie again but he just looks at the blood on your lips “there’s a reason brenda isn't sick anymore, it's your blood do you understand she isn't sick cause you cured her she doesn't have to be the only one. the only thing you have to do is come back and all of this will finally be over, please just come back to me” he looks at you and with tears in your eyes you nod “you need to go ” you tell him and he shakes his head ignoring it only wanting answers “why didn't you tell me?” He asks and you swallow the lump in your throat this was the exact reason you didn't tell him

“i couldn't, i didnt wanna say goodbye not to you”

“There's still time Minho is getting the serum” and you shake your head “That’s not the plan’ you tell him throwing it all out “Newt was supposed to make it and i was going to stay behind, going down saving you guys”. You tell him and he has tears in his eyes “You were just going get yourself killed? After everything we’ve been through”

“It’s better than letting this Stuppid Virus control me, i’m not becoming a Crank Thomas, i love you i do but i would much rather get shot out here than survive only to risk hurting the others or you” but he shakes his head not accepting it you betrayed his trust which made you no better than WICKED the only difference was that your intentions were truly only to save the people you loved “we’ll get the serum and everything Will be fine” he tells you but before you can say anything or protest a loud scream comes from behind you and you turn your head to see Newt showing getting up onto his feet, surprised he’s still there “Newt?” you both ask insinc and he slowly turns revealing him fully cranked out eyes gone black and he lashes out towards Thomas attacking him. Thomas steps aside letting Newt drop to his knees and he seems to have a second of his humanity coming through “Tommy! kill me!” he yells, turning to look at Thomas but your own mind keeps getting hazly wanting to shut down so you only see fragments of the fight in front of you. the minute you look backup holding onto your sanity you see Newt holding a knife close to thomas his chest and your own rage takes over pushing yourself onto your feet and pushing your brother off of your boyfriend and holding him down “Newt, this isn't you! Get a hold on your sanity” you try hoping he has any left but he doesn't do anything but trying to get you off and to your side you see a Gun and you use your left foot to kick against it and it slides towards Thomas and he looks between the weapon and you holding down Newt “shoot! the bullet will kill us both” you tell him in a clear moment and she shakes his head

“Thomas, it's your own life, or ours!” you yell at him but Newt gets the upper hand throwing you off him and going for the knife again heading back towards Thomas and you make a decision, with tears in your eyes and the last bit sanity you crawl towards the gun and clock it standing on your feet and aiming the gun towards your brother “Newt!” you yell and he turns his attention towards you and in that small moment you see his eyes the ones you grew up with and the ones of the big brother you love so much and he nods telling you it's okay and with that you pull the trigger the bullet going into his chest and his body dropping to the ground. you look over at thomas and he sits there next to Newts body tears covering his cheeks and your own rolling down your face knowing you just killed the one person that you promise yourself you would save “i'm sorry thomas'' you tell him lifting up the gun an you close your eyes placing your Finger on the trigger but before you can pull it Thomas slams it out of your hands “No! I’m not losing both of you” you look him in his eyes and he has a pleading look “Minho is on his way just hold on okay” he tells you through sobs and you shake your head “i'm not going to make it till then i’m tired of fighting Thomas, i just want it to stop, make it stop” you tell him trying to hold onto your sanity, you reach in your pocket and take out the small necklace and you hand it to him. “Newt’s not to only one that wrote you a letter” and he grabs it holding onto your hand “i love you” you tell him and he smiles a little through the tears “i love you too” with your own tears you take a step back and let go of his hand “if that's true and you really love me, then you'll let me do this then you let me go” he looks shocked and shakes his head protesting but you dont listen to his words “you’re going to be okay” he tries to tell you but you give him a hard enough push to make him trip and you grab the gun up from the ground and drop to your knees next to Newt his body “i’ll see you soon” you tell him before before turning to look at Thomas one last time as he gets back onto his feet but your already lifting up the gun to your head “i’ll say hi to chuck for you”

“don’t do it Please y/n!” he asks through sobs “till death do us apart”

“Wait!” Looking to the side Brenda runs forwards with the small blue file in her hand and she looks to Newt on the ground and to you holding the gun to your head but it all gave Thomas enough time to run towards you getting a Grip on the gun“Thomas! I’m gonna kill you!” You yell at him letting the last of your humanity slip away and fighting the one person you thought you never wanted to hurt “Brenda!” Thomas yells and before you know it everything in front of your eyes turns black

WICKED had taken everything from him, they made it to the safe haven but it didn't seem to matter to him. Vince's speech was what hurt most , it reminded everybody of what they lost but it also reminded them that the people they cared about sacrificed their own lives to save them. “We've come a long way together, so many have sacrificed to make this place possible. your friends, your family. so here's to the ones that couldn't be here, here's to the friends we've lost, this place is for you it's for all of us” he turns his body to point at one of the large rocks in the middle of the place “this, this is for them, so in your one time in your own way, come make your peace, and welcome to the safe haven”

The night was spent talking about memories of the lost once and the plans for the future, the plans of what was coming next and what to do with their lives Now That they were free to do what they wanted but Thomas kept away from it sitting to the side. Minho said down next to him giving him a small smile and looking over the place “this is going to be a good home for us, they would of loved it” he tells him while reaching in the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the two necklaces and hands them back to thomas “you had this one you when you passed out, figured i'd keep them safe for you” an Thomas takes Boh of he necklaces from the boy hesitantly “thanks minho'' padding his shoulder he smiles before walking away leaving Thomas alone to read the letter from Newt, followed by the one you gave him.

Dear Thomas

it’s been one hell of a ride, i know i always complained about being trapped by WICKED so this might be weird coming from me but i miss the glade, i miss waking up to frypans crappy breakfasts or watching the sunset right before the doors closed, it all seems like so long ago doesn't it we were so innocent back then. But now here we are, we lost a lot of Friends in the fight to get you all to the safe haven so you guys better make the most of it or I'm coming to haunt you all.

i want you to know that i never kept this all from you cause i didn't love you, god i loved you even more after i found out it wasn't going to last but i couldn't bring myself to tell you i know that it's probably selfish but i didn't want to spend our last few weeks maybe even days saying goodbye like everyone did with Newt, i wish i could be with you forever but i guess we weren't meant to be. Our time together was exactly like paradise but i wouldn't wanna change, i remember when you can up in that box back in the Glade everybody though you were one hell of a trouble maker and to be honest you really were, breaking the rules running into the maze but i loved every second of it, it didn't matter to me how many times you broke the rules or what stuppid or risky idea you had i would off followed it all, i did follow it i followed you, through the Maze, through the scorch and now through the last City saving Minho and getting Newt to safety. That was my plan and i know you’ll hate it but it was simple get you all save and leave myself behind to die out in the field so nobody has to know what was really happening to me it Will be easier that way. i’m not afraid of dying, i’m afraid of

Losing myself to this stuppid virus that turned me into a walking time bomb. I want you to know I don't want to let you all go but I have no other choice cause waiting for this serum isn't an option for me and even if we get there in time it would only push back the inevitable. I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life to the fullest and make me proud and take care of the other keep Minho out of trouble and make sure gally doesnt start a fight with some shank in the safe haven. i hope that in a few years from now you’ll smile and say that it was worth it cause it has been worth it to me. Now pick yourself up and finish what you started and lead the people that are there with you like I know you can. I know you’ll do what's right you always have. take care and remember that i’ll love you

thank you for being my best friend and my first love

goodbye tommy

y/n

Opening your eyes you sit straight up feeling a burning pain in your ankle and lifting the fabric you see the Veins disappeared and the bite mark was almost completely healed. Panic rushes through your body not knowing where you are and looking around you only see wooden furniture and bottles of medicine on a table to the side, throwing your feet over the edge you stand up finding your balance and walking past the curtain that closed of the little shed you were in and you look out over the ocean turning to the side you see an entire village that reminds you of the glade, making you think that heaven wasn't as bad as you though it was going to be walking forwards into the place you pass by field that are growing food, people building shelter with wood and right in front of you the dark haired Runner comes walking closer and you look over at him surprised “Minho?” You ask him hesitant and he smiles up you only to see Gally, Frypan and Brenda walking closer to you beside him “hey there Greenie, you look better” Gally tells you and you stand there shocked and there eyes go to something behind and turning around your faces with the brown haired boy you love and he looks a bit sad but there this little light of Hope in his eyes as he steps closer grabbing onto you an hugging you tight.

“I-i’m alive'' you ask hesitantly while you sit on the side with Thomas and he nods “how long have I been out?” You ask him “A week the serum took its time but you made it through” he tells you and guilt hits you immediately, your plan your brother was the one that should have been sitting there not you, your brother, you killed your brother you shot Newt,you almost shot yourself. Panic washes over you and Thomas seems to notice and he grabs your hand pulling you out of it “hey, you made it” he tells you again and tears roll down your cheeks “i wasn't supposed to”

“yeah, i know i read your letter” and you look up at him “Thomas”

“I did as you told me to, i picked myself up and i’m gonna keep going forwards, were gonna keep going forward together”

“After everything if done, you still want me?” And the boy nods lifting his hand an cupping your cheeks “i hate the plan you made to just go of and die on your own and i’m going to be angry about it for a while but right now your still alive and i’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon so you're stuck with me”

“Newt..” you say in a whisper “Newt would want you to live a happy live and not think about what happened because you can't change it” you know he’s right but it was going to take time to mourn the loss of your brother this wasn't the plan you made instead of silently slipping away after you saved your friends and your brother you are the one that got saved “you were infected you didn't think straight” he tells you

“I knew what was doing when i pulled the trigger, i knew in that moment i was shooting My own brother, the look in his eyes told me it was him in that last minute it told me it was okay” you tell him holding down the Tear's that threaten to slip again

“but i also know your right he wouldn't want me to give up so i wont, i Will wait for you to forgive me cause i wanna be with you cause your all if got left” you tell Thomas and he smiles reaching in his pocket and pulling something out of it and he hands it to you, taking it from him it reveals a little ring and you look up at him “after we got here and i saw you past out i started making it, i knew when i saw you laying right there that i never wanted to see you like that again that i wanted to be with you forever, so if you really mean that you wanna be with me than you'll say yes” you look at him shocked not knowing what to do or what to say “say yes to being with me forever, say yes to being my best friend, to being my girl, to being my wife, marry me Y/n” you nod not having the words to say it outloud and Thomas smiles sliping the ring on your Finger and holding onto your Hand and leaning forward to catch your lips with his before looking back up at you “Till death do us apart”

#the maze runner #thomas #newt #character death #reader x thomas #dylan o'brien #tomuary #tom uary

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 7)

Chapter summary: Your best friend confronts you about your revived relationship with Aaron and how much things have changed from two years ago when you run into the BAU at a bar.

A/N: This chapter is definitely not my finest work, but we get some background on Hotch and reader. The part that is italicized is a flashback.

masterlist || read on ao3

Don't you want to take time and get to love me? We could build a perfect world I got tricks I really want to show you I could be your perfect girl - Wolf Alice, “Your Love's Whore"

~~~~~~~

“Okay, I can’t deal with this anymore. I have to say something.”

You looked up from your textbook to see the disappointed stare of your best friend, Aly, from the other side of the bar. She worked as a bartender, so sometimes you would hang out with her while she was working, maybe do some homework, and she would give you drinks with the employee discount price.

The two of you had been best friends since you were in middle school. When your mom died and your dad went back to prison, you were originally supposed to be shipped off to live with an aunt in another state that you had never met before, but Aly’s parents decided to claim legal guardianship over you, allowing you to live with them. From then on, you and Aly had become inseparable, even following each other to college.

You snorted softly and took a sip from your drink. “Oh boy, this should be interesting,” you said sarcastically, and Aly rolled her eyes as she tossed the bar towel over her shoulder.

“You are acting way too casual about the whole Aaron thing.” You groaned, but she didn’t give you a chance to speak up. “He just shows up out of the blue after two years, and you dive right back in, head first, and act like nothing changed? You’re not even going to ask him what happened?”

You sighed. You knew that this was going to be a conversation that Aly was going to have with you at some point, and you were actually a little surprised that it took her a full month before saying anything, but that didn’t mean you liked it. “Yeah, because the murder of his ex-wife and the attempted murder of his son makes great pillow talk. No, I haven’t talked to him about that.” You rolled your eyes as you finished the rest of your drink. “And I don’t need to. The only reason you’re making this a big deal is because you don’t like Aaron.”

She stared at you in disbelief. “Don’t like him? Babe, how can I have any opinion on him if I don’t know him? I didn’t even know that you were sleeping with him until you called me crying because you thought-”

“I really don’t want to have this conversation,” you cut her off, and you pushed your empty glass towards her, wordlessly asking for a refill. You didn’t want to go through those memories right now. Or ever, if you could help it. “I don’t need to know everything about his life. It’s not like we’re getting married.”

Aly raised an eyebrow at you as she started to make you another drink. “Maybe not, but do you want to? Do you want an actual relationship?”

“No!” you said, too quickly and too defensively, but it was true. You liked what you had with Aaron, all of the benefits and fun parts of dating somebody without any of the responsibilities. But you understood where Aly was coming from.

If there were such a thing as “Build-A-Boyfriend”, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, your ideal partner would probably be a lot like Aaron. More age appropriate perhaps, less baggage for sure, and most likely with a different job, one that didn’t slowly chip away at his soul until he became a shell of a man.

But somebody determined and focused like him. With a soft side like his, and the same dry sense of humor as him. A person you could talk to for hours, who sees you and pushes you towards greatness. Maybe even somebody who makes you feel special because they can only ever relax and be carefree around you. Somebody who just wants to do good in the world and who cares.

Somebody like that.

Aly opened her mouth to say something, but it quickly closed it as she looked at the entrance. “Damn, there’s a group coming in. Okay, I actually have to do my job now. But we will talk about this later.”

You started to tease her until you caught sight of the said group walking in. “Shit,” you hissed under your breath, turning your back towards the door and praying they didn’t see you. “We summoned them.”

Aly looked at you in confusion. “Y/N, what-”

“That’s Aaron and his team,” you whispered, although it didn’t matter much, “and will you please stop staring?”

A gasp left Aly’s mouth and, in true best friend fashion, she didn’t stop staring. Despite Penelope’s invitation a week earlier, you had been able to avoid going out with the BAU team. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them - you actually really liked being around them - but it would have made things way too complicated with Aaron. He compartmentalized even more than you. “Which one is he?” she asked excitedly, and you had to reach over the bar to get her to turn around.

“You’re going to draw so much attention to yourself,” you hissed, and the two of you started to frantically talk over each other.

“Because I want to know which one-”

“- Tell you later -”

“- have to at least take their order -”

“- Really don’t want to see them -”

“- Coming over here now -”

“Hey Y/N!”

You grimaced to yourself before turning around on the barstool, forcing a smile. Penelope was the one who greeted you, but the rest of the BAU had made their way to where you were sitting. The looks they were giving you unsettled you, like they all knew something you didn’t, but you decided to chalk it up to nervousness. Aaron, however, was standing in the back and looking about as mortified as you felt.

“Hey guys,” you said, stretching out each word. You weren’t drunk enough for this. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”

“Casablanca,” Spencer noted out loud.

Aly smirked and leaned against the bar. “Y/N, are you going to introduce me to all of your FBI friends?”

You had to fight the urge to glare at her, because you knew what she was doing. She wanted you to introduce her to Aaron, but she was just going to have to wait. “Aly, this is the BAU team. BAU team, this is Aly.”

Aly pouted at you but surprisingly said nothing else. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for that or if it just made you more nervous.

Emily looked at the open textbook that was long forgotten next to you. “Are you studying at a bar?” she asked, amusement evident in her voice. “I thought only Reid did that.”

You shrugged and closed the textbook. “I was studying, but I gave up on that about an hour ago,” you admitted.

“Good!” Penelope said excitedly. “Because if you’re not studying, then you can join us!”

Your eyes flicked nervously to Aaron, whose face was completely unreadable. You wanted him to give you some sign of what he thought would be the best, but he just stared at you, stoic as ever. The conversation that you had with Aly was playing on repeat in your mind, making you feel sick. You didn’t care about Aaron’s past. You couldn’t care.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” you settled on.

“It’s no intrusion at all,” Rossi piped up, and you and Aaron both stiffened. Rossi knew about you and Aaron, so the fact that he was encouraging you to mingle with the rest of the group was a bad sign. “And besides, drinks are on me tonight.”

Aly laughed from behind the bar. “If that’s the case, then she is definitely joining you guys so that she can stop mooching off my employee discount without even tipping me.”

So just like that, it was settled. You grumbled something about always tipping as you grabbed your drink and your textbook before following the group to a large corner booth. You didn’t miss the smirks each of the team members was throwing your way, and you definitely noticed that they left the only open seat next to Aaron. The two of your exchanged tight-lipped smiles as you slid into the empty space, careful not to touch Aaron. This was partly because you wanted to keep a calm and collected exterior, even if the team did know about you and Aaron - which you had started to suspect.

It was also partly because the idea of being Aaron’s dirty little secret right in front of his coworkers was too tempting, and you already had 2 long island iced teas, so you did not trust your self-control.

“So Y/N,” JJ started, breaking you out of your thoughts. You had hoped, maybe naively, that they would just ignore you and let you observe for the night. “Does Aly go to law school with you?”

You laughed despite yourself and you shook your head. “God, no. Although, she did take the LSAT with me so that even if I totally bombed it, I wouldn’t have the worst score.”

“What did you get on it?” Spencer asked, and you saw Aaron perk up slightly at the question.

“A 174,” you beamed.

“Look at you go! You’re like our own personal Elle Woods!” Penelope praised, and your heart swelled at the use of the word “our”, like you were already a part of the group.

“I wish,” you chuckled. “But that brilliant bitch got a 179.”

A simultaneous “Who?” came from both Spencer and Aaron.

“From Legally Blonde?” you prompted, but were met with more confused stares. “The greatest lawyer movie of all time?” They shook their heads again. “Okay, you both need to watch it, it’s a classic. Miss Woods was quite literally the only reason I was able to get through my first year.”

Well, that and fucking Aaron every chance you got, but they didn’t need to know that.

You heard a gasp come from Penelope. “We should do another movie night! We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Emily laughed and nudged Penelope softly. “Do you not remember the fiasco we had last time we did a movie night? We almost burnt down Rossi’s house.”

Laughter erupted from the table as multiple parties started to talk over each other, and you were happy to slide into the background, making little quips when the conversation called for it. The most surprising part of the whole night was how easily you got along with the BAU group, and how much they seemed to like you. Less surprising, however, was how acutely aware you were of Aaron’s thigh, which was now pressed against your own.

Aaron had stayed completely silent since the time the team walked up to you, and you could only imagine what was going on in his head. This whole situation was probably a living nightmare for him, and you couldn’t say you blamed him. Your choice to keep Aaron a secret from your friends was just that - a personal choice. You didn’t want them to fuss over you or put delusions in your head of a future with Aaron. You wanted to be able to enjoy your privacy.

But the implications for Aaron were much more severe, especially now that you were actually working at the FBI. People would start to question his judgment, whether or not he was fit for his job. They would question if he had taken advantage of you or manipulated you, and that would all be before they even found out that the two of you were sleeping together years ago. He could very possibly be seen as just a high ranking government official who was sneaking around with a girl almost 20 years his junior.

In other words, it would look really, really bad for him. You downed the rest of your drink in one go.

Aaron raised his eyebrows as he watched your actions, his gaze heavy. His eyes ran up and down your body, and you could feel yourself start to overheat. He felt much closer than he was. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed that the rest of the team had scattered among the bar - some playing pool, some ordering more drinks, and some in the bathroom - which left you and Aaron alone in the booth. There was enough room that he didn’t need to have his leg pressed up against you, and he definitely didn’t need to bring his hand down to your knee, but he did.

“So, a 174? Impressive.”

“Mhm,” you mused, keeping your voice casual. “Does that surprise you?”

“Not at all,” he responded, no hesitation in his voice.

His response didn’t surprise you much, but you preened at the compliment all the same. You wanted people, especially Aaron, to think of you as effortlessly successful and to be impressed by you. So you didn’t show them the countless hours spent in the library, and the many all nighters you pulled. You were careful to only show people the parts of you that you could brag about, like your class rankings or debates on subjects you were an expert in, so that it looked like it came naturally to you. So you didn’t look like you were struggling.

Part of that came after your mom died. You didn’t want everybody fussing over you and treating you like you were breakable, so you quickly decided to show that you were independent. If you didn’t give people a reason to worry about you, they’d leave you alone.

The other part of that came during law school. You knew yourself enough to realize that it was probably because of Aaron, and how much he rubbed off on you. You wanted to be engaging like him, to be able to completely command a room without even saying a word like him. You wanted success like him. Aaron noticed that early on and challenged you. He let you debate with him just so that you could practice going against somebody smarter and more experienced than you. And it paid off.

~~~~~~~

You stared at the email on your phone, your cheeks sore from how much you were smiling. You had already told all of your friends, but their reaction wasn’t as satisfying as you wanted. They were ecstatic for you, but realistically, you only wanted the approval of one person.

Your thumb hovered over Aaron’s contact in your phone, debating on whether or not to call him. This could probably be a text, but Aaron was so formal when texting, even when dirty texts were involved. Besides, you wanted to hear Aaron’s approval, and even more than that, you wanted his attention. Even if it was just for a minute or two, you wanted his attention in the middle of a weekday, something you never got.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the call button and brought the phone up to your ear.

“Aaron Hotchner,” came the greeting, formal as ever.

“Aaron, hi,” you started, and you were happy that Aaron couldn’t see the way you were nervously tugging the hem of your shirt.

There was a beat of silence. “Y/N,” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is great! I, uh…” You realized that you didn’t have a good explanation to give to Aaron as to why you were calling him while he was at work. “Is this a good time?”

You could hear light footsteps on the other side of the phone, followed by the soft click of a door closing. “That depends on the subject matter,” he mused, his voice lowering.

All the nervousness you felt melted away. “I made law review!” you blurted excitedly. “I just got the email and I didn’t have anybody else to tell. And God knows you’ve helped edit my papers enough, so I figured I’d share this with you.”

You wished that you could have seen Aaron’s face. You wanted to know if he was smiling, or if he looked proud. In hindsight, telling him in person probably would have been more rewarding.

“I knew you’d get it,” he told you sincerely. “Automatic or write on?”

“Automatic,” you told him proudly.

“Congratulations, Y/N. That’s a big deal. I’m sure you’re going to celebrate tonight. It’s Bar Review night, right?”

You hummed to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. You dropped your voice, adding a more seductive tone. “Actually… I was hoping that maybe I could be rewarded for all my hard work? Please?”

He hadn’t said no to you yet, and you doubted today would be any different.

Aaron chuckled, low and dark. “Mhm, since you asked so nicely…” His voice trailed off, and you could practically hear him stiffen up. “But I can’t tonight.”

”Oh.” He didn't elaborate, and doesn’t have to. If it were for a case, he would have told you. When he didn’t say anything, that meant it was a Haley and Jack thing. Still, you couldn’t help but note the disappointment that bled into his words.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked, his voice soft. “We could meet in Baltimore. Same hotel. I can make reservations now.”

For the second time that day, you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt. Attention was what you wanted, and attention was what you got. “Baltimore sounds good. Send me the details.”

~~~~~~~

You mindlessly stirred the ice in your empty glass with the straw, listening to the soft clinking. “What about you? What did you get on your LSAT?”

Aaron thought about it for a second. “A 176. I think.”

A bitter chuckle left your lips and you turned in your seat just enough so that you could face Aaron. You were so close to him that, even in the dark lighting of the bar, you could make out every feature on his face. “Christ, and here I was thinking I could out-lawyer you,” you teased.

Aaron took a sip of his drink — double scotch neat. “I’ve seen the way you like to argue with me. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to go up against you in court,” he scoffed.

“Hm, yeah but you like it when I argue with you,” you pointed out, leaning in closer to him. “Because then you get to shut me up.”

Aaron set his drink down on the table, his face never betraying any sort of emotion. “Come over tonight,” he told you, his voice lowering. The hand that was on your knee slowly trailed up your thigh, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You smirked, deciding to mess with him a little. “Presumptuous of you to assume I don’t already have plans after this.” You didn’t, and Aaron knew that. He somehow always knew.

In spite of that, he decided to indulge your teasing. “Cancel them.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and he punctuated his demand by squeezing your thigh. “I can help you study later.”

That was all the convincing you needed. You slipped out of the booth, ready to pull him straight out of the bar, but his face gave you pause. “Meet me at my car in two minutes,” he told you firmly, and you nodded obediently and sat back down.

You watched him start to walk out of the bar, only to be stopped by Emily and Derek. You watched as the three of them talked, Aaron's whole body tensing. There was a lull in the conversation before the three of them looked over at you, Emily and Derek trying to hide their drunken smiles.

They knew. They had to know. It’s not like you and Aaron were being subtle. In some part of your subconscious, you were sure that they knew long before tonight, and that this was just a confirmation. Still, you didn’t know how Aaron was going to react. You thought that Aaron was going to deny it, or even end things with you right there. Besides that one office-sex slip up, Aaron had been so careful about keeping you a secret from his professional life, even going as far as asking you to not call his office phone. In a shocking turn of events, he just smiled and gave you a small nod before making his way towards the door.

Figuring that you didn’t need to wait the two minutes anymore, you started to head towards the exit, blushing as you went. You could feel everybody’s eyes on you the whole time, but when you looked around, none of them seemed to be judging you. If anything, they seemed… happy? You were just about to reach the doors when Penelope cut you off.

“Does this mean you’ll start having lunch with me in the Batcave?” she said excitedly, not even needing to preface her question. They all knew.

“Whenever I get a chance,” you promised.

Penelope reached down to grab your hands, covering them both with hers. “Good! It can get lonely when they’re all off saving the world.”

“Hey Penelope,” you started, pursing your lips nervously. “Is this thing with Aaron and I… is it okay? I don’t want to make things weird for your team.”

Penelope gave you a sympathetic look and shook her head quickly, like even the very act of bringing it up made her sad. “Of course it’s okay! Hotch is happier than we’ve seen him in a long time, and that’s all we want for him. He’s a good guy who has just been through too much. But if he gives you any problems, you come straight to us. You’re one of us now.”

Then, without any warning, Penelope pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. You could smell her perfume, something floral and sweet. “Thank you,” you said as she let you go.

“Oh no, thank you,” she retorted, grinning. “Now you go have fun.”

You laughed and walked out of the bar, making your way to the parking lot. Part of you was still worried about Aaron’s reaction to knowing the secret was out.

But when you saw Aaron leaning against his car, and you saw his smile when he looked up to see you, all your fears were assuaged. “Who ambushed you?” he called from across the parking lot, his voice light.

“Penelope,” you admitted, and he nodded unsurprised as he opened the passenger side door for you.

You buckled your seatbelt and watched as Aaron made his way into the driver's seat and loosened his tie. “Are you okay with them knowing?” you asked nervously.

Aaron was quiet as he started the car, so quiet that you thought that maybe he didn’t even hear you. It wasn’t until the car pulled out of the parking lot that he spoke. “Yes,” he told you, and it truly seemed like he meant it. Then, as a joke, he added, “Although, I reserve the right to change my mind after seeing them at work tomorrow.”

“What?” you teased. “You’re not going to spill all of the dirty details to your coworkers?”

Aaron laughed and fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “I thought you needed to study.”

You shrugged and leaned over the center console just far enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “I do. So you better make it worth my time,” you purred into his ear, smirking as you watched his knuckles turn white from clenching the steering wheel. “Or you can get me off while I study?”

You thought back to what Aly had said about whether things changed between you and Aaron. On paper, everything had changed. There was no need for secrecy or sneaking around anymore. You wouldn’t need to travel an hour outside of the city just to be seen with each other in public. The unspoken rules were going to change, considering the two of you had broken pretty much all of them already. Aaron had changed, and so had you. It was impossible for it to be the same as it was two years ago.

But as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car, Aaron grinning devilishly at you, you couldn’t help but think that at its core, nothing really changed.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #my best habit

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jpegjade · 4 years

Text

I’m not a cynic - Spencer

so i finally finished this one. it was supposed to just be a song blurb but i got a longer idea for it and ended up writing it over a period of a few days. so yeah! here’s the song it’s based on:

i’m not a cynic - Alec Benjamin

warnings: none just angsty fluff. (not really angst, just upset spencer for a sec)

__________________

“Oh my god.” Spencer groaned, dropping his keys on the floor of the hallway.

Spencer Reid was having a bad day. It started when he woke up on the wrong side of the floor, literally. He turned over one too many times and fell out of bed, directly onto the floor. You had left to go to work early so he had no body compass in relation to where you were in the bed. He wasn’t used to you leaving early so this threw him off quite a bit.

Despite being abruptly woken up on time, he was late to work. The 10 am briefing hadn’t started when he got to the office but he was too late for coffee. There was no time to make more so he was grumpy in the briefing, hardly saying a word.

Spencer had a ton of case files to look over, in addition to their current case, so he already felt overwhelmed. Morgan wouldn’t stop talking about how quiet he was and when Spencer snapped at him, Hotch gave him a stern talking to about his attitude over the past few days. The result was pairing Reid with Garcia, meaning he didn’t go into the field. He didn’t mind working with Garcia but he wanted to be out with the rest of the team. He always felt like he was missing out when he wasn’t there with everyone else. He felt like that for most of his life, he didn’t want to feel like he was missing out at his job too.

Spencer pushed the door to the apartment open and found you dancing in the living room with your headphones in.

“Hey love!” You said, loudly.

You took out one headphone to hear Spencer but he didn’t look at you. He was looking down at his Converse as he unlaced them. Pulling off his satchel, he put it on the table and walked past you without saying anything, sitting on the couch. He put his hands in his hair and let out a deep sigh he had been holding in for a while.

You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped and the curve of his back that something was wrong. When Spencer got quiet, something was always wrong. And when he didn’t immediately smile at you when he got home, it had been a hard day. A hard day and something bothering him meant you probably should start running a bath and the two of you could just talk it out.

Turning down your music, you began running the bath water so it could warm up as it filled the tub. From there, you grabbed your matching comfy robes and his favorite face masks, laying everything out with your matching pajamas. You weren’t going to shower until after dinner but you figured that you could change your schedule a little bit tonight.

Turning off the water, you walked back into the living room to find Spencer with his hands still propping up his head. He was muttering something but you couldn’t hear it. You gently sat down next to him and softly called his name.

“Spencer?” It was barely audible but he heard it.

“What?” He snapped.

“Do you want to take a bath with me?” You said, trying not to be defensive.

“No.” He said, shaking his head.

“Oh, well. I ran the water if you change your mind.” You said, leaning back on your heels. He wasn’t normally like this. Usually, he was more reserved and stoic when he was thinking but now he seemed… Angry.

“I didn’t ask for you to run the water.” Spencer let out a large sigh of frustration. He had been building up all of this energy all day and he couldn’t take holding it in anymore.

“I know you didn’t ask but you always want a warm bath and to relax when you have a bad day.” You said, trying to keep your own frustration with him at bay.

“Does anyone ever think that they don't really know me or what I’m going through?” Spencer snapped.

You paused for a moment, unsure what to really say so you just let him continue.

“I’m not a cynic but it’s beyond not my day. This isn't my life. And it’s hard to process that no one even seems to acknowledge that I’m struggling.” Spencer said. “You all seem to think that just because I’m smart, life just goes my way. Well, newsflash, it doesn't. I can’t fix anything by being smart. I can’t fix anything by being smart and none of you get that.”

You watched in shock as Spencer looked up at you with tears rolling down his face. It wasn’t often that Spencer snapped at you. It always had the initial stinging effect that he intended but not too long after he snapped, he always softened up because you weren’t trying to hurt him and he knew that. It was just the stress from the day getting to him. The stress from everything was getting to him.

“Come on.” You said, holding out your hand.

Spencer took it and you led him to the bathroom with the now warm bathwater. Spencer got undressed while you mixed more hot water and a bath bomb in the water. Once Spencer got in, you got the shampoo out of the cabinet and sat on the edge while he got comfortable in the colorful bath water and bubbles.

“Is this okay?” You said, massaging his shoulders. He was a bit tense to the touch but he slowly loosened up the more you worked on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” He said, nodding. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

“I forgive you. Was it a hard day?” You asked, trying to open the door for a more gentle conversation.

“Yeah…” Spencer began detailing his day to you, piece by piece. Every frustration, every nuance, everything that made him pent up and slowly, his shoulders started to lose tension. You could feel it under your hands.

“Have you talked to your mom today?” You asked, knowing that seemed to cheer him up.

Instead of the reaction you hoped for, his shoulders completely slumped. You heard a couple water drops hit the bath water before Spencer’s body started shaking.

“Y/n, she forgot who I was for half of the call.” Spencer sounded so broken.

You rubbed his back as he cried. It was a wonder how he held that in for so long today, that pain. You didn’t say anything as a tear rolled down your cheek. Seeing him in pain always managed to hurt you more than anything else. A few more sobs and some sniffles later, Spencer was calm again. You got out the shampoo and started washing his hair in silence. You wanted to give him room to express himself in any way he felt was helpful so you figured being silent was the best thing.

Spencer closed his eyes as your hands worked through his hair. It was one thing for him to wash it. It was another for your magical fingers to move through it. You just had a calming effect he didn’t have on his own. But that could be said about most things. You were his better half, his support system. He was a different person with you and you both knew it. He was a better person with you in his life.

“Do you know why I married you, Spencer?” You asked, washing the shampoo out of his hair.

“Was it for my stunning good looks?” Spencer sadly chuckled.

“Yes. But also for your heart. Mainly for your heart. You’re smarter than I’ll ever be. You’re more beautiful than an angel. But your heart is made of gold and that’s why I fell in love with you.” You started the conditioner, the true secret to his silky soft hair.

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Spencer chuckled again.

“Wait, you potato brain.” You said, smiling. It was nice to hear him chuckle. “Your mom raised you with a pure heart. A heart so pure and a brain so intricate that no one will understand. Baby, no one will ever understand you. I married you and I don’t understand you. But you can’t hold that against us because we’re trying our best.”

“I know…” Spencer sighed.

“But at the same time, you have a right to be frustrated because you can’t help or fix the person that matters to you most. It’s hard to lose someone to something so misunderstood right now and incurable. It’s hard to watch that transition. I know. But you’re not alone, okay? It hurts me that Diana is going through this but you have to trust that she’s getting the best care to make her life easier and so are you.” You said, washing out the conditioner.

“So if you need to cry,” you continued, grabbing him a big towel for his hair. “Then you go ahead and cry. If you need to throw things, I’ve got starburst you can fling at the wall. If you need a hug or a cuddle, you married an amazing cuddler, if I do say so myself. But please don't hold it in and blow up on me, okay?” You said, drying his hair before wrapping it.

“I think I’ll take you up on that cuddle and a good cry.” Spencer said.

“Okay, Mr. Reid, I will see you in the bedroom, then.” You repositioned to stand up but Spencer gently grabbed your hand.

“Can we stay here a little longer? There’s something soothing about the water.” He said, looking up at you with those big puppy eyes.

“Sure, Spence. Whatever makes you happiest.” You smiled, sitting back down on your little bathroom stool.

“You make me happiest, y/n.” Spencer smiled.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

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ariainstars · 4 years

Text

Thank You, Disney Lucasfilm… For Destroying My Dreams

Warning: longer post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So… I watched The Rise of Skywalker on Disney+ a few weeks ago. Again.

Sigh.

I guess it has its good sides. But professional critics tend to dislike it and even the general audience doesn’t go crazy for it. I wonder why?

The Fantasy

When his saga became a groundbreaking pop phenomenon in the 1970es, George Lucas reportedly said that he wanted to tell fairy tales again in world that no longer seemed to offer young people a chance to grow up with them. The fact that his saga was met with such unabashed, international enthusiasm proves that he was right: people long for fairy tales no matter how old they are and what culture they belong to.

“Young people today don’t have a fantasy life anymore, not the way we did… All they’ve got is Kojak and Dirty Harry. All the films they see are movies of disasters and insecurity and realistic violence.” (George Lucas)

I’ve been a Star Wars fan for more than thirty years. I love the Original Trilogy but honestly it did not make me dream much, perhaps because when I saw it the trilogy was already complete. The Prequel Trilogy also did not inspire my fantasy.

The Last Jedi accomplished something that no TV show, book or film had managed in years: it made me dream. The richness of colorful characters, multifaceted themes, unexpected developments, intriguing relationships was something I had not come across in a long time: it fascinated me. I felt like a giddy teenager reading up meta’s, writing my own and imagining all sorts of beautiful endings for the saga for almost two years.

So if there’s something The Rise of Skywalker can pride itself on for me, it’s that it crushed almost every dream I had about it. The few things I had figured out – Rey’s fall to the Dark, Ben Solo’s redemption, the connection between them - did not even make me happy because they were tainted by the flatness of the storytelling reducing the Force to a superpower again (like the general audience seems to believe it is), and its deliberate ignoring of almost all messages of The Last Jedi.

Many fans of the Original Trilogy also were disillusioned by the saga over the decades and ranted at the studios for “destroying their childhood”. Now we, the fans of the sequels and in particular of The Last Jedi, are in the same situation… but the thought doesn’t make the pill much easier to swallow. What grates on my nerves is the feeling that someone trampled on my just newly found dreams like a naughty child kicking a doll’s house apart. Why give us something to dream of in the first place, then? To a certain extent I can understand that many fans would angrily assume that Disney Lucasfilm made the Sequel Trilogy for the purpose of destroying their idea of the saga. The point is that they had their happy ending, while every dream the fans of the Sequel Trilogy may have had was shattered with this unexpectedly flat and hollow final note.

I know many fans who dislike the Prequel Trilogy heartily. I also prefer the Original Trilogy, but I find the prequels all right in their own way, also since I gave them some thought. However, it can’t be denied that they lack the magic spark which made the Original Trilogy so special. Which makes sense since they are not a fairy tale but ultimately a tragedy, but in my opinion it’s the one of the main reasons why the Prequel Trilogy never was quite so successful, or so beloved.

Same goes for Rogue One, Solo, or Clone Wars. They’re ok in their way, but not magical.

The sequel trilogy started quite satisfyingly with The Force Awakens, but for me, the actual bomb dropped with The Last Jedi. Reason? It was a magical story. It had the spark again that I had missed in the new Star Wars stories for decades! And it was packed full of beautiful messages and promises.

The Force is not a superpower belonging solely to the Jedi Anyone can be a hero. Even the greatest heroes can fail, but they will still be heroes. Hope is like the sun: if you only believe in it when you see it you’ll never make it through the night. Failure is the greatest teacher. It’s more important to save the light than to seem a hero. No one is never truly gone. War is only a machine. Dark Side and Light Side can be unbeatable if they are allies. Save what you love instead of destroying what you hate.

Naively, I assumed the trilogy would continue and end in that same magical way. And then came The Rise of Skywalker… which looks and feels like a Marvel superhero story at best and an over-long videogame at worst.

Chekov’s Gun

“Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.”

(Anton Chekov, 1860 - 1904)

If you show an important looking prop and don’t put it to use, it leaves the audience feeling baffled. There is a huge difference between a story’s setup, and the audience’s feeling of entitlement. E.g. many viewers expected Luke to jump right back into the fray in Episode VIII, because that’s what a hero does, isn’t it? The cavalry comes and saves the day. And instead, we met a disillusioned elderly hermit who is tired of the ways of the Jedi. But there was no actual reason for disappointment: in Episode VII it was very clearly said (through Han, his best friend) that Luke had gone into exile on purpose, feeling responsible for his failure in teaching a new generation of Jedi. It would have been more than stupid to show him as an all-powerful and all-knowing man who kills the bad guys. Sorry but who expected that was a victim to his own prejudice.

A promise left unfulfilled is a different story. The Last Jedi set up a lot of promises that didn’t come true in The Rise of Skywalker: Balance as announced by the Jedi temple mosaic, a new Jedi Order hinted at by Luke on Crait, a good ending for Ben and Rey set up by the hand-touching scene which was opposite to Anakin’s and Padmés wedding scene. Many fans were annoyed about the Canto Bight sequence. I liked it because it felt like the set-up for a lot of important stuff: partnership between Finn and Rose whom we see working together excellently, freedom for the enslaved children (one of whom is Force-sensitive), DJ and Rose expressing what makes wars in general foolish and beside the point. So if we, the fans of Episode VIII, now feel angry and let down, I daresay it’s not due to entitlement. We were announced magical outcomes and not just pew-pew.

The Star Wars saga never repeated itself but always developed and enlarged its themes, so it was to be expected that delving deeper, uncomfortable truths would come out: wars don’t start out of nowhere, and they don’t flare up and continue for decades for the same reason. In order to find Balance, the Jedi’s and the Skywalker family’s myths needed to be dismantled. Which is not necessarily bad as long it is explained how things came to this, and a better alternative is offered. The prequels explained the old political order and the beginnings of the Skywalker family, and announced that the next generation would do better. The sequels hardly explained anything about the 30 years that passed since our heroes won the battle against the Empire, and while The Last Jedi hinted at the future a lot, The Rise of Skywalker seemed to make a point of ignoring all of it.

The Skywalker Family Is Obliterated. Why?

Luke was proven right that his nephew would mean the end of everything he loved. The lineage of the Chosen One is gone. His grandson had begun where Vader had ended - tormented, pale and with sad eyes - and he met the same fate. Luke, Han, Leia, all sacrificed themselves to bring Ben Solo back for nothing. Him being the reincarnation of the Chosen One and getting a new chance should have been meaningful for all of them; instead, he literally left the scepter to Rey who did nothing to deserve it: merely because she killed the Bad Guy does not mean she will do a better job than the family whose name and legacy she proudly takes over.

I do hope there was a good reason if the sequels did not tell “The New Adventures of Luke, Leia and Han” and instead showed us a broken family on the eve of its wipeout. It would have been much easier, and more fun for the audience, to bring the trio back again after a few years and pick up where they had left. Instead we had to watch their son, nephew and heir go his grandfather’s way - born with huge power, branded as Meant to Be Dangerous from the start, tried his best to be a Jedi although he wanted to be a pilot, never felt accepted, abandoned in the moment of his greatest need, went to his abuser because he was the only one to turn to, became a criminal, his own family (in Anakin’s case: Obi-Wan and Yoda) trained the person who was closest to him to kill him, sacrificed himself for this person and died. And in his case, it’s particularly frustrating because Kylo Ren wasn’t half as impressive a villain as Vader, and Ben Solo had a very limited time of heroism and personal fulfilment, contrarily to Anakin when he was young.

The impact of The Rise of Skywalker was traumatic for some viewers. I know of adolescents and adults, victims of family abandonment and abuse, who identified with Ben: they were told that you can never be more than the sum of your abuse and abandonment, and that they’re replaceable if they’re not “good”. Children identifying with Rey were told that their parents might sell them away for “protection”. Rey was not conflicted, she had a few doubts but overall, she was cool about everything she did, so she got everything on a silver platter; that’s why as a viewer, after a while you stopped caring for her. Her antagonist was doomed from birth because he dared to question the choices other people made for him. It seems that in the Star Wars universe, you can only “rise” if you’re either a criminal but cool because you’ve always got a bucket over your head (Vader / the Mandalorian) or are a saint-like figure (Luke / Rey).

One of Obi-Wan’s first actions in A New Hope is cutting off someone’s arm who was only annoying him; Han Solo, ditto. These were no acts of self-defense. The Mandalorian is an outlaw. Yet they are highly popular. Why? Because they always keep their cool, so anything they do seems justified. Young Anakin was hated, Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen attacked for his portrayal. For the same reason many fans feel that Luke is the least important of the original trio although basically the Original Trilogy is his story: it seems the general audience hates nothing more than emotionality in a guy. They want James Bond, Batman or Indiana Jones as the lead. Padmé loved Anakin because she always saw the good little boy he once was in him; his attempts at impressing her with his flirting or his masculinity failed. Kylo tried to impress Rey with his knowledge and power, but she fled from him - she wanted the gentle, emphatic young man who had listened to her when she felt alone. Good message. But both died miserably, and Ben didn’t even get anything but a kiss. Realizing that his “not being as strong as Darth Vader” might actually be a strength of its own would have meant much more.

The heroes of the Original Trilogy had their adventures together and their happy ending; the heroes of the Prequel Trilogy also had good times and accomplishments in their youth, before everything went awry. Rey, Finn and Poe feel like their friendship hardly got started; Rose was almost obliterated from the narrative; and Ben Solo seems to have had only one happy moment in his entire life. Of course it’s terrible that he committed patricide (even if it was under coercion), but Anakin / Vader himself had two happy endings in the Prequel Trilogy before he became the monster we know so well. Not to mention Clone Wars, where he has heroic moments unnumbered.

The Skywalker family is obliterated without Balance in the Force, and the young woman who inherited all doesn’t seem to have learned any lesson from all this. The Original Trilogy became a part of pop culture among other things because its ending was satisfying. We can hardly be expected to be satisfied with an ending where our heroes are all dead and the heir of their worst enemy takes over. What good was the happy ending of the Original Trilogy for if they didn’t learn enough from their misadventures to learn how to protect one single person - their son and nephew, their future?

For a long time, I also thought that the saga was about Good vs. Evil. Watching the prequels again, I came to the conclusion that it is rather about Love vs. War. And now, considering as a whole, I believe it to be essentially Jedi against Skywalker. The ending, as it is now, says that both fractions lost: they annihilated one another, leaving a third party in charge, who believes to be both but actually knows very little about them.

Star Wars and Morality

After 9 films and 42 years, it still is not possible to make the general audience accept that it is wrong to divide people between Good and Evil in the first place. The massive rejection of both prequels and sequels, which have moral grey zones galore, shows it.

It is also not possible without being accused of actual blasphemy in the same fandom, to say the plain truth that no Skywalker ever was a Jedi at heart. As their name says, they’re pilots. Luke was the last and strongest of all Jedi because he always was first and foremost himself. Anakin was crushed by the Jedi’s attempts to stifle his feelings. His grandson, too. A Force-sensitive person ought to have the choice whether they want to be a Jedi or not; they ought not to be taught to suppress their emotions and live only on duty, without really caring for other people; and they ought to grow up feeling in a safe and loving environment, not torn away from their families in infancy, indoctrinated and provided with a light sabre (a deadly weapon) while they’re still small. A Jedi order composed of child soldiers or know-it-all’s does not really help anybody.

The original Star Wars saga was about love and friendship; although many viewers did not want to understand that message. The prequels portrayed the Jedi as detached and arrogant and Anakin Skywalker sympathetically, a huge disappointment for who only accepts stories of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. The Last Jedi was so hated that The Rise of Skywalker backpedaled: sorry, of course you’re right, here you have your “hero who knows everything better and fixes everything for you on a silver platter”. The embarrassing antihero, who saves the girl who was the only person showing him some human compassion, can die miserably in the process and is not even mourned.

Honestly: I was doubtful whether it would be adequate to give Ben Solo a happy ending after the patricide. I guess letting him die was the easiest way out for the authors to escape censorship. (I even wrote this in a review on amazon about The Last Jedi, before I delved deeper into the saga’s themes.) The messages we got now are even worse.

Kylo Ren / Ben Solo

A parent can replace a child if they’re not the way they expect them to be. A victim of lifelong psychical and physical abuse can only find escape in death, whether he damns or redeems himself. An introspective, sensitive young man is a loser no matter how hard he tries either way. A whole family can sacrifice itself to save their heir, he dies anyway.

Rey

Self-righteousness is acceptable as long as you find a scapegoat for your own failings. Overconfidence justifies anything you do. You can’t carve your way as a female child of “nobodies”, you have to descend from someone male and powerful even if that someone is the devil incarnate. You are a “strong female” if you choose to be lonely; you need neither a partner nor friends.

In General

Star Wars is not about individual choices, loyalty, friendship and love, it is a classic Western story with a lonesome cowboy (in this case: cowgirl) at its centre. Satisfied?

The father-son-relationship between Vader and Luke mirrors the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, saying that whoever we may want to kill is, in truth, our kin, which makes a clear separation in Good and Evil impossible. The “I am your father” scene is so infamous by now that even non-fans are aware of it; but this relationship between evil guy and good guy, as well as the plot turns where the villain saves the hero and that the hero discards his weapon are looked upon rather as weird narrative quirks instead of a moral.

In an action movie fan, things are simple: good guy vs. bad guy, the good guy (e.g. James Bond may be a murderer and a misogynist, but that’s ok because he’s cool about it) kills the bad guy, ka-boom, end of story. But Star Wars is a parable, an ambitious project told over decades of cinema, and a multilayered story with recurring themes.

A fairy tale ought to have a moral. The moral of both Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy was compassionate love - choose it and you can end a raging conflict, reject it and you will cause it. What was the moral of the Sequel Trilogy? You can be the offspring of the galaxy’s worst terror and display a similar attitude, but pose as a Jedi and kill unnecessarily, and it’s all right; descend from Darth Vader (who himself was a victim long before he became a culprit) and whether you try to become a Jedi trained by Luke Skywalker or a Sith trained by his worst enemy, you will end badly?

Both original and prequel trilogy often showed “good” people making bad choices and the “bad ones” making the right choices. To ensure lasting peace, no Force user ought to be believe that he must choose one side and then stick to it for the rest of his life: both sides need one another. The prequels took 3 films to convey this message, though not saying so openly. The Last Jedi said it out clearly - and the authors almost had their heads ripped off by affronted fans, resulting in The Rise of Skywalker’s fan service. It’s not like Luke, Han and Leia were less heroic in the Sequel Trilogy, on the contrary, they gave everything they had to their respective cause. They were not united, and they were more human than they had once been. Apparently, that’s an affront.

The Jedi are no perfect heroes and know-it-all’s and they never were, the facts are there for everyone to see. Padmé went alone and pregnant to get her husband out of Mustafar - and she almost succeeded - although she knew what he had done and that he was perfectly capable of it (he had told her of the Tusken village massacre himself) because she still saw the good little boy he had been in him; Obi-Wan left him amputated and burning in the lava, although he had raised Anakin like a small brother and the latter had repeatedly saved his life. But Padmé was not a Jedi, so I guess she still had some human decency. Neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda lifted a finger for the oppressed populations of the galaxy during the Empire, waiting instead for Anakin’s son to grow up so they could trick him into committing patricide. Neither Luke nor Leia did anything for their own son and nephew while he became the scourge of the galaxy, damning his soul by committing crime after crime. On Exegol, Rey heard the voices of all Jedi encouraging her to fight Palpatine to death. After that, they left her to die alone, and the alleged “bad guy”, who had already saved her soul from giving in to Palpatine’s lures, had to save her life by giving her his own. The Jedi merely know that “their side” has to win, no matter the cost for anyone’s life, sanity, integrity or happiness.

Excuse me, these are simple facts. How anyone can still believe that the Jedi were super-powerful heroes who always win or all-knowing wizards who are always right is beyond me. Luke, the last and strongest of them, like a bright flickering of light before the ultimate end, showed us that the best of men can fail. There is nothing wrong with that in itself. But it is wrong and utterly frustrating when all of the failure never leads to anything better. If Rey means to rebuild the Jedi order to something better than it was, there was no hint at that whatsoever.

And What Now?

The Last Jedi hit theatres only 2 years before The Rise of Skywalker, and I can’t imagine that the responsible authors all have forgotten how to make competent work in the meantime; more so considering that Solo or The Mandalorian are solid work. Episode IX is thematically so painfully flat it seems like they wanted us to give up on the saga on purpose. The last instalment of a 42-year-old saga ought to have been the best and most meaningful. I had heard already decades ago that the saga was supposed to have 9 chapters, so I was not among who protested against the sequels thinking that they had been thought up to make what had come before invalid. I naively assumed a larger purpose. But Episode IX only seems to prove these critics perfectly right.

The last of the flesh and blood of the Chosen One is dead without having “finished what his grandfather started”?

Still no Balance in the Force?

And worst of all, Palpatine’s granddaughter taking over, having proven repeatedly that she is not suited for the task?

Sorry, this “ending” is absurd. I have read fanfiction that was better written and more interesting. And, most of all, less depressing. I was counting on a conclusion that showed that the Force has all colours and nuances, and that it’s not limited to the black-and-white view “we against them”. That’s the ending all of us fans would have deserved, instead of catering the daddy issues of the part of the audience who doesn’t want stories other than those of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. I myself grew up on Japanese anime, maybe that’s one of the reasons why I can’t stand guys like James Bond or Batman and why I think you don’t need “a great hero who fixes the situation” but that group spirit and communication are way more important.

It was absolutely unexpected that Disney, the production company whose trademark are happy endings and family stories, would end this beloved and successful saga after almost half a century on such a hollow note. Why tell first a beautiful fairy tale and then leave the audience on a hook for 35 years to continue first with a tragedy (which at least was expected) and then with another (unexpected one)? And this story is supposed to be for children? Like children would understand all of the subtext, and love sad, cautionary tales. Children, as well as the general audience, first of all want to be entertained! No one wants to watch the legendary Skywalker family be obliterated and a Palpatine take over. The sequels were no fun anymore; we’ve been left with another open ending and hardly an explanation about what happened in the 30 years in between. If you want to tell a cautionary tale, you should better warn the general audience beforehand.

The Original Trilogy is so good because it’s entertaining and offers room for thought for who wants to think about its deeper themes, and also leaves enough space for dreams. Same goes for the first two films of the Sequel Trilogy; but precisely the last, which should have wrapped up the saga, leaves us with a bitter aftertaste and dozens of questions marks.

We as the audience believe that a story, despite the tragic things that happen, must go somewhere; we get invested into the characters, we root for them, we want to see them happy in the end. (The authors of series like Girls, How I Met Your Mother or Game of Thrones ought to be reminded of that, too.) I was in contact with children and teenagers saying that the Sequel Trilogy are “boring”; and many, children or adults, who were devastated by its concluson. There is a difference between wanting to tell a cautionary tale and playing the audience for fools. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. Who watches a family or fantasy story or a romantic / comedic sitcom wants to escape into another world, not to be hit over his head with a mirror to his own failings, and the ones of the society he’s living in. Messages are all right, but they ought not to go at the cost of the audience’s satisfaction about the about the people and narrative threads they have invested in for years.

This isn’t a family story: but children probably didn’t pester the studios with angry e-mails and twitter messages etc. They simply counted on a redemption arc and happy ending, and they were right, because they’re not as stupid as adults are. I have read and watched many a comment from fans who hate The Last Jedi. Many of these fans couldn’t even pinpoint what their rage was all about, they only proved to be stuck with the original trilogy and unwilling to widen their horizon. But at least their heroes had had their happy ending: The Rise of Skywalker obliterated the successes of all three generations of Skywalkers.

If the film studios wanted to tease us, they’ve excelled. If they expect the general audience to break their heads over the sequels’ metaphysics, they have not learned from the reactions to the prequels that most viewers take these films at face value. Not everybody is elbows-deep in the saga, or willing to research about it for months, and / or insightful enough to see the story’s connections. Which is why many viewers frown at the narrative and believe the Sequel Trilogy was just badly written. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. As it is now, the whole trilogy is hanging somewhere in the air, with neither a past nor a future to be tied in with.

The prequels already had the flaw of remaining too obscure: most fans are not aware that Anakin had unwillingly killed his wife during the terrible operation that turned him into Darth Vader, sucking her life out of her through the Force: most go by “she died of a broken heart”. So although one scene mirrors the other, it is not likely that most viewers will understand what Rey’s resurrection meant. And: Why did Darth Maul kill Qui-Gon Jinn? What did the Sith want revenge for? Who was behind Shmi’s abduction and torture? Who had placed the order for the production of the clones, and to what purpose? We can imagine or try to reconstruct the answers, but nothing is confirmed by the story itself.

The sequels remained even more in the dark, obfuscating what little explanation we got in The Rise of Skywalker with quick pacing and mind-numbing effects.

Kylo Ren had promised his grandfather that “he would finish what he started”: he did not. Whatever one can say of this last film, it did not bring Balance in the Force. What’s worse, the subject was not even breached. It was hinted at by the mosaic on the floor of the Prime Jedi Temple on Ahch-To, but although Luke and Rey were sitting on its border, they never seemed to see what was right under their noses. It remains inexplicable why it was there for everyone to see in the first place.

We might argue that Ben finished what his grandfather started by killing (or better, causing the death of) the last Jedi, who this one couldn’t kill because he was his own son; but leaving Rey in charge, he helped her finish what her grandfather had started. The irony could hardly be worse.

Episode IX looks like J.J. Abrams simply completed what they started with Episode VII, largely ignoring the next film as if it was always planned to do so. We, the angry and disappointed fans of The Last Jedi, may believe it was due to some of the general audience’s angry backlash, but honestly: the studios aren’t that dumb. They had to know that Episode VIII would be controversial and that many fans would hate it. The furious reactions were largely a disgrace, but no one can make me believe that they were totally unexpected. Nor can anyone convince me that The Rise of Skywalker was merely an answer to the small but very loud part of the audience who hated The Last Jedi: a company with the power and the returns of Disney Lucasfilm does not need to buckle down before some fan’s entitlement and narrowmindedness out of fear of losing money. And if they do, it was foolish to make Rey so perfect that she becomes almost odious, and to let the last of the Skywalker blood die a meaningless death. (Had he saved the Canto Bight children and left them with Rey, at least he would have died with honor; and she, the child left behind by her parents, would have had a task to dedicate herself to.)

The only reason I can find for this odd ending is that it’s meant to prepare the way for Rian Johnson’s new trilogy, which - hopefully - will finally be about Balance. We as the audience don’t know what’s going on behind the doors. Filmmaking is a business like any other, i.e. based on contracts; and I first heard that Rian Johnson had negotiated a trilogy of his own since before Episode VIII hit theatres. Maybe he kept all the rights of intellectual property to his own film, including that he would finish the threads he picked up and close the narrative circles he opened, and only he; and that his alleged working on “something completely different” is deliberately misleading.

Some viewers love the original trilogy, some love the prequels, some like both; but I hardly expect anyone to love the sequel trilogy as a whole. What with the first instalment “letting the past die, killing it if they had to”, the second hinting at a promising future and the third patched on at the very last like some sort of band-aid, it was not coherent. I heard the responsible team for Game of Thrones even dropped their work, producing a dissatisfying, quickly sewn together last season, for this new Star Wars project and thereby disappointing millions of GoT fans; I hope they are aware of the expectations they have loaded upon them. George Lucas’ original trilogy had its faults, but but though there was no social media yet in his time, at least he was still close enough to the audience to give them what they needed, if not necessarily wanted. (Some fans can’t accept that Luke and Leia are siblings to this day, even if honestly, it was the very best plot twist to finish their story in a satisfying way.)

I’m hoping for now that The Last Jedi was not some love bombing directed at the more sentimental viewers but a promise that will be fulfilled. “Wrapping up” a saga by keeping the flattest, least convincing chapter for last is bad form. Star Wars did not become a pop phenomenon by accident, but because the original story was convincing and satisfying. Endings like these will hardly make anyone remember a story fondly, on the contrary, the audience will move to another fandom to forget their disappointment.

On a side note, I like The Mandalorian, exactly for the reason that that is a magical story; not as much as the original trilogy, but at least a little. Of course, I’m glad it was produced. But it’s a small consolation prize after the mess that supposedly wrapped up the original saga after 9 films.

We’re Not Blind, You Know…

- Though Kylo Ren (Ben Solo) has Darth Vader’s stature, his facial features are practically opposite to Vader’s creepy mask. This should have foreshadowed that his life should have gone the other way, instead of more or less repeating itself. - As a villain Kylo was often unconvincing; by all logic he should have been a good father figure. (Besides, Star Wars films or series never work unless there is a strong father or father figure at their center.)

- Like Vader, Kylo Ren was redeemed, but not rehabilitated. Who knows who may find his broken mask somewhere now and, not knowing the truth, promise “I will finish what you started”. - The hand-touching scene on Ahch-To which was visually opposite to Anakin’s and Padmé’s should not have predicted another tragedy but a happy ending for them. - The Canto Bight sequence was announcing reckoning for the weapon industry and freedom for the enslaved children. It also showed how well Finn and Rose fit together. - Rey was a good girl before she started on her adventures. Like Anakin or Luke, she did not need to become a Jedi to be strong or generous or heroic. - Rey summons Palpatine after one year of training. Kylo practically begged for his grandfather’s assistance for years, to no avail. Her potential for darkness is obviously much stronger. - Dark Rey’s light sabre looked like a fork, Kylo’s like a cross. - The last time all Jedi and Sith were obliterated leaving only Luke in charge, things went awry. Now we have a Palpatine masquerading as a Skywalker and believing she’s a Jedi. Rey is a usurper and universally cheered after years of war, like her grandfather. - The broom boy of Canto Bight looked like he was sweeping a stage and announcing “Free the stage, it’s time for us, the children.”

Rey failed in all instances where Luke had proved himself (so much for feminism and her being a Mary Sue): - Luke had forgiven his father despite all the pain he had inflicted on him. She stabbed the „bad guy”, who had repeatedly protected and comforted her, to death. - Luke never asked Vader to help the Rebellion or to turn to the Light Side, he only wanted him back as his father. She assumed that you could make Ben Solo turn, give up the First Order and join the Resistance for her. She thought of her friends and of her own validation, not of him. - Luke had made peace by choosing peace. Rey fought until the bitter end. - Luke had thrown his weapon away before Palpatine. Rey picked up a second weapon. (And both of them weren’t even her own.) - Luke had mourned his dead father. Rey didn’t shed a tear for the man she is bonded to by the Force. - Luke went back to his friends to celebrate the new peace with them. Rey went back letting everyone celebrate her like the one who saved the galaxy on her own, she who were tempted to become the new evil ruler of the galaxy and had to rely on the alleged Bad Guy to save both her soul and her body. - Luke had embodied compassion when Palpatine was all about hatred. Where he chose love and faith in his father, she chose violence and fear. - Luke had briefly fallen prey to the Dark Side but it made him realize that he had no right to judge his father. Rey’s fall to the Dark Side did not make her wiser. - Rey has no change of mind on finding out that she’s Palpatine’s flesh and blood, nor after she has stabbed Kylo. Luke had to face himself on learning that he had almost become a patricide. Rey does not have to face herself: the revelation of her ancestry is cushioned by Luke’s and Leia’s support. Rey is and remains an uncompromising person who hardly learns from her faults.

This is cheating on the audience. And it's not due to feminism or Rey being some sort of “Mary Sue” the way many affronted fans claim. Kylo never was truly a villain, Rey is not a heroine, and this is not a happy ending. The Jedi, with their stuck-up conviction “only we must win”, have failed all over again. The Skywalker family was obliterated leaving their worst enemy in charge. Rey is supposed to be a “modern” heroine which young girls can take as an example? No, thank you. Not after this last film has made of her. Padmé was a much better role model, combining intelligence with strength and goodness and also female grace. The world does not need entitled female brats.

Bonus: What Made The Rise of Skywalker a Farce

- The Force Awakens was an ok film and The Last Jedi (almost) a masterpiece. The Rise of Skywalker was a cartoon. No wonder a lot of the acting felt and looked wooden. - “I will earn your brother’s light sabre.” She’s holding his father’s sabre. - Kylo in The Last Jedi: “Let the past die. Kill it if, you have to.” Beginning with me? - Rey ends up on Tatooine. - The planet both Anakin and Luke ardently wanted to leave. - Luke had promised his nephew that he would be around for him. - Nope. - Rey had told Ben that she had seen his future. What future was that - “you will be a hero for ten minutes, get a kiss and then die? (And they didn’t even get a love theme.) - “The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead.” On a desert planet with a few ghosts. What of the ocean she used to dream about? - Ben and Rey were both introduced as two intensely lonely people searching for belonging. We learn they are a Force dyad, and then they are torn apart again. - Why was Ben named for Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first place, if they have absolutely nothing in common? - The Throne Room battle scene in The Last Jedi was clearly showing that when they are in balance, Light Side and Dark Side are unbeatable. Why did the so-called “Light Side” have to win again, in The Rise of Skywalker, instead of finding balance? - Luke’s scene on Ahch-To was so ridiculously opposite to his attitude in The Last Jedi that by now I believe he was a fantasy conjectured by her. (Like Ben’s vision of his father.) - Anakin’s voice among the other Jedi’s. - He was a renegade, for Force’s sake. - The kiss between two females. - More fan service, to appease those who pretended that not making Poe and Finn a couple was a sign of homophobia. - We see the Knights of Ren, but we learn absolutely nothing about them or Kylo’s connection with them. - Rose Tico’s invalidation. - A shame after what the actress had gone through because for the fans she was “not Star-Wars-y” (chubby and lively instead of wiry and spitfire). - Finn’s and Rose’s relationship. - Ignored without any explanation. - Finn may or may not be Force-sensitive. - If he is: did he abandon the First Order not due to his own free will but because of some higher willpower? Great. - General Hux was simply obliterated. - In The Force Awakens he was an excellent foil to Kylo Ren; no background story, no humanization for him. - Chewie’s and 3PO’s faked deaths. - Useless additional drama. - The Force Awakens was a bow before the classic trilogy. The Rise of Skywalker kicked its remainders to pieces. - The Prequel Trilogy ended with hope, the Original Trilogy with love. The Sequel Trilogy ends on a blank slate. - “We are what they grow beyond.” The characters of the Sequel Trilogy did not grow beyond the heroes of the Original Trilogy. - The Jedi did not learn from their mistakes and were obliterated. The Skywalker family understood the mistakes they had made too late. Now they’re gone, too.

P.S. While I was watching The Rise of Skywalker my husband came in asked me since when I like Marvel movies. I said “That’s not a Marvel movie, it’s Star Wars.” I guess that says enough.

P.P.S. For the next trilogy, please at least let the movies hit theatres in May again instead of December. a) It’s tradition for Star Wars films, b) Whatever happens, at least you won’t ruin anyone’s Christmases. Thank you.

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