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yesimwriting · 10 months

Note

Hi! I understand if this isn’t something you’re interested in but I was wondering if you could write the boys being possessive/protective over the reader. I was just rereading final girl chapter 5 and I’d just love to see her rip them a new one in her own way about boundaries and stuff and seeing them manipulate/grovel there way in to her good graces again or like how she would’ve reacted to the boys scaring away the boy who took her to the party if Billy wasn’t in one of his moods I don’t know if I asked this right I’ve sent asks so many time to you now and I’m all ways worried I don’t convey/explain what I mean properly and it’s just confusing for you but anyway have a good day/night and whether you can or can’t,thank you anyway :)

*set in the same world as the final girl fic series but can be read as a stand alone with little to no context lol

A/n hi!! there's still some manipulative vibes in this bc i just feel like one of them is bound to trauma dump as a way 'in' when y/n's mad at them but i still feel like it's mainly nice! especially bc there's some emotional growth

----

You're still on the phone, moving in and out of their line of sight. The intention was never to watch you from the sprawling tree they use to get to your window, but there was something about your focus on the whatever conversation you're still having that left Billy telling Stu to wait.

Billy's not sure what he's waiting for. Maybe it's a form of masochism, to see how long you'll talk to whoever's on the other end.

"She's still on the phone." Stu's voice has taken on that hollow, detached quality that's never an indicator of self control. Billy says nothing, not in the mood to defend you or deflect the stinging. "He wouldn't call her..."

There's a second part of Stu's sentence that's just implied. He wouldn't call her after what happened in the locker room. "She found out. She might have called him."

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The fact that Jack McCarthy didn't permanently fade back into obscurity after he and Stu made it clear that while you might buy the whole study-buddy act, they can see straight through him is pounding inside his head. Again and again, the start of a headache.

"If you don't want to..." Stu presses his palm into bark, so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he pulled his hand away bloody. "If you're not in the mood to talk to cutie in there, there's always another way to see if she's talking to him."

Even though it's a barely an idea, a soft suggestion, the knot in Stu's chest loosens with the words. Just checking in on Jack could easily turn into calling Jack...which would lead to the most mind clearing thing Stu can imagine. Thoughts of tearing him apart, piece by piece until it's impossible to tell that the mess of red and guts was ever the teenager with the letterman jacket that threw his arm around you during your study period rush to the front of Stu's mind. It's so soothing that he almost moves to the lower branch that lets him reach the ground.

Stu thinks about bringing it up again, a little less subtle and more desperate but he wants it too bad to care. Needs it. You pace back into view as his lips part. You're now holding the phone against your other ear, meaning that the receiver is no longer blocking your face. He pauses, taking the opportunity to watch you more openly than he normally lets himself.

Your lips are slightly parted in a just barely-there pout and your eyes are locked on something in front of you. There's something about the slight, halfhearted irritation in your expression. It takes Stu a second to place why he can't stop staring and then it clicks--it's twistingly cute...and you're...pretty.

Not that Stu doesn't regularly see you as attractive or hot, but pretty's different. At least, different in the way it's sticking out to him now, like a splinter that breaks off beneath the skin before you can pull it out. You're pretty in a way that Stu never thinks about. Pretty in a soft way that reminds him of domestic shit and makes his chest feel tight.

"We uh--" It's not the first time they've popped by with a backpack with a few things to do, but this time it's different. They took their time thinking about what you'd like, what'd work as a sort of peace offering. Now, watching you chat away without a care in the world over your fight, it all feels pathetic.

Everything becomes a soft buzz of background noise as you press you sigh. Billy wishes he knew how to better read lips because you sigh, say something, and then dramatically fall back on your bed.

You shift onto your stomach, propping your head up with an elbow. The oversized T-shirt that you're in slides down your shoulder and your hair's a little fluffier than before due to your movements. There's a softness to your appearance that leaves an odd feeling flaring in Billy's stomach, a sensation that could be considered butterflies if it felt less like being stabbed.

The in-between of too close while still being so far is oddly overwhelming drawn out like this. Billy swallows as you laugh at something from the other line. "We're already here."

It's a different level of sad to get here and then turn around, so Billy shift forward and finally reaches for the window. The move has grown so familiar Billy even knows at what point he needs to push a little harder because of the way the sides stick to the frame. He moves his hand an it doesn't budge. To add salt to the wound, you've locked the window. You never lock the fucking window.

A dangerous wave of flighty rejection coils in his stomach. The part of him that knows how to think in the long term knows that he should leave while he still can. The last thing anyone needs is for Billy to start associating this with you.

The window creeks and your head snaps towards them. Your eyebrows draw together and you sit up fully, even more of your shoulder and collarbone exposing themselves with the motion. You mumble something into the phone, a beat passes, and then you stand. you approach the window begrudgingly, placing a hand on your hip before cradling the phone between your neck and cheek.

Your lips are pressed together in a way that seems to lull the violent mindset of them both. It's the kind of look you get when you're trying not to smile. After a second, you lean down, undo the lock, and open the window.

"You won't belie--" You sigh, moving to hold the phone again, "Stop enjoying this." Whoever's on the other line must really be annoying you, because you shift back enough to let Billy and Stu in through the window. "Seriously, I'll hang up."

Billy and Stu exchange a look. They're here, trying to get you past something only you think is an issue, and you're still on the fucking phone. Who could be that important?

"No! You are so not talking to them."

There's a brief silence as you wander back towards your bed. The growing discomfort in Billy's chest wins his silent, internal argument. "Who wants to talk to us?"

At that, you finally pause, breeziness briefly leaving your eyes as you look at him. That look pinches at Billy's flightiness and soothes a part of him that he doesn't quite get. You're so good at that, at detecting whatever you want in him. The inability to twist and fully control your perception of him is overwhelming sometimes. Too similar to the way that his mom could--

"Hallie." Your normal expression has come back, like it always does. The awareness that Billy doubts you understand outside of a subconscious level never lingers on your face. But your voice delivers the answer so gently it feels like an olive branch. "You've subjected her to a super long rant about your betrayal."

Despite all the aggression you forced into your words, that relaxes something in them both. Hallie--the completely harmless childhood best friend that's still in Texas. States away, way too far to come between the three of you, even if she wanted to.

"Hallie," Stu repeats, and Billy can feel Stu's shift to something much more genuine. "The super hot girl from your vacation pho--"

"Do not start." You hold up a finger in warning and there's something in the reaction. You'd deny it if anyone ever brought it up, but Stu's noticed the way you get when he goes out of the way to hit on anyone. Even Tatum. You're subtle about, but you get a little quieter as you pick at your nails or try to focus on something else. This time, though, there's none of that, just a bit of urging annoyance. "She has a big enough head as is."

There's a sound from the other line and you roll your eyes. "What? It's true." You're listening to whatever's on the other end intently. "Okay--fine--bye, loser." Another wave of chatter from the other line. "Uh--it's--" You glance over at the two boys still lingering in the corner. "Love you, too. Bye."

You hang up, making a point of keeping your back to them as you set the receiver back onto the machine on your nightstand.

Stu breaks, laughing once. You snap your head in his direction. "Shut up."

Stu takes a tentative step towards you, already liking how quickly you're easing. Maybe all you needed was to feel a little more in control by ranting to someone that isn't here. "Why don't you ever tell me you love me?"

You glare at Stu's exaggerated pout. "You do not get to make fun of me while I'm mad at you." You stand a little straighter. "Why are you guys even here?"

"Not making fun of you." Stu reaches your bed, flopping onto your mattress like he lives with you. He casually picks up a fluffy pillow and squeezes it to his chest. "Genuinely hurt that you don't love us."

Confusion cracks at your annoyance, "Us?"

"If you said 'I love you' to grumpy before me, I don't wanna know." He squeezes the pillow a little tighter, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut like he can't take the agony. "Too painful, bug."

You cross your arms again, eyes awkwardly falling to the ground. It's not Stu's dramatics that get to you, but you never like it when anyone reduces Billy into something negative and angsty. "He's not grumpy."

"Oh, defensive." Stu absentmindedly weaves his fingers through the pillow's layer of fluff. "Didn't think you'd still care."

You sigh, annoyed at his passive aggressiveness as if they didn't come to your room while fully aware of how mad you are. "That's dramatic, even for you."

"Is it?" Billy mumbles the question, low and almost unsure. "We--we weren't sure if you'd talk to us again."

The comment leaves you feeling like the intruding force. Something about their somber mood makes it seem like you're what's unfitting even though they came to your room. "Just because I'm mad right now doesn't mean I'll be mad forever."

You're not sure you could be. Sure, you have other friends you really care about, but they're all linked to Billy and Stu. They're dating Sid and Tatum and Randy's usually with the group. It's not that you think the three of them would cut you off, but it wouldn't be the same. And even if everything without Billy and Stu could be perfect, you still wouldn't be happy. Not fully.

You'd miss them, miss the way that Stu can always make you laugh no matter how you're feeling and how comforting Billy's presence can be. They might really push boundaries sometimes, but they're still your best friends.

"I get that you--" Sighing, you scratch the back of your wrist. "Hallie and I were talking about it and she reminded me that you guys have good intentions, and I get that, but this is the second time I have to find out that you threatened someone behind my back."

Stu's moved onto his side, head propped up on an elbow as he watches you. Billy's still lingering near the window. Both of them are quiet and that's getting to you. "I'm not a little kid and I don't need you guys to approve of everyone I'm friends with."

"They didn't want to be friends with you." There's no argument in Stu's voice or aggression, just a factual flatness that leaves your face hot.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. Noel wanting more than friendship's something that makes sense. He was flirty, you went out on a date, and he's known for being an insensitive player. But Jack didn't seem like that at all. Sure, he's a quarterback and hangs out with the guys that never shut up during class, but he had a reason to study with you. Your english teacher assigned him to be tutored by you because his grades were dropping to the point where his coach was threatening to bench him. Sure, he was nice to you, but that's probably because he was worried about his grade. No star player wants to be benched during recruiting season.

The implication also leaves a hard feeling in your stomach. It picks at an insecurity that rooted itself into you around that time in middle school where kids pair up and start dating. Naivety is a weak spot when it comes to teenagers and your inexperience translates into that. Part of it is your mom, the way she's been open about what it meant to become a mom at 17. The rest of it is genuine interest and practicality. You want to go to Princeton, dating is distracting and you haven't really met anyone you like enough to sacrifice studying or time with your friends.

And it doesn't bother you. Not usually. You know life is long and eventually the whole relationship thing will click and work its way to you, probably with some college guy that's majoring in something artsy, but then things like this come up and it makes you feel so stupid.

"Doesn't matter what they want." That feels like a mature enough answer, and it's not a lie. Teenage boys want sex. You're not so out of the loop that that's some kind of revelation. But what they want or think they're getting doesn't change you. "I'm not an idiot and I'm not that naive."

Even if you were, it's not their business to get involved without you asking. For all they know, maybe you want to hook up with someone. That's your choice, not theirs. "And even if I was, it's still my choice."

Billy angles his head downwards, eyes a little darker than you remember them being. "So our big crime is not wanting you to get hurt?"

Ugh. That's more or less the argument Hallie made while playing the devil's advocate. It must have taken a lot for Hallie to defend anyone that isn't you, but she knew that blowing up your friendship with Billy and Stu over a guy you barely knew would only hurt you more in the long run.

"It's--" Trying to explain your issue with the situation is getting exhausting. They're not capable of focusing on anything besides their intentions. "It's a boundaries thing. You can't threaten anyone you don't like into not talking to me behind my back."

Stu's sitting up now, the plush pillow on his lap. "We didn't think of it that way, angel. We just--we know those guys and know what they're like and what you're like, and--" He's fidgeting, fingers tangling into the synthetic hairs of the pillow. "We don't want anything happening to you."

The sentiment's there, forced out almost shyly. It's almost enough to distract you from the weird intensity there. Something happening to you. Over some guy. You get that heartbreak can be a pretty intense thing, but it can't be that bad.

"Nothing's--" You cut yourself off with a sigh. At this rate, they'll eventually be more protective than your mom. They're both weirdly quiet. "What's the big deal if I'm 'hurt' by some stupid guy? It's not like I'd lose it and stop talking to my friends or like it'd effect us or...anything."

Billy lets out a low scoff. The sound is so cold and unlike him you don't know how to react. "Really?"

You hesitate before reminding yourself that it's still just Billy. "...Yeah?" The single syllable falls flat. "I mean...why would it?"

Billy steps forward. "All it took for me to lose--" The sudden movement makes you stiffen until he sits at the foot of your bed, next to Stu. "My mom was her being hurt by some 'stupid guy'.'

Stu freezes. There are a lot of ways this could have gone, but he didn't think that Billy would drop that. Not tonight, with the way Billy tiptoes around his mom's absence and the reason behind it. It's not the kind of thing he'd throw away just to get you to make up with them a little faster...and the rawness in Billy's voice...

Jack might have to end up on their call list anyway.

You're silent as you study them with an expression that would be completely unreadable if it wasn't for the tiny crease between your eyebrows. Billy's hinted at stuff with his mom before, but the way he talked about her always framed her in a way that made it seem like she had passed. You also didn't think he'd ever say anything about what happened so bluntly...or that something that seemed so small to you could have been forcing him to think about those things.

Billy's eyes are focused on nothing in particular, one of his knees pressed against Stu's. His insides feel like they're at war with each other. That bleeding honesty took over with no warning and it's blinding him to everything else. The reminder of the abandonment gnaws at him.

The mattress dips. You don't know what the right way to react is. While this makes their behavior make a little more sense, that doesn't make your point wrong. They did overstep. But that's nowhere near as heavy as Billy's thing. And it couldn't have been easy for Stu to watch his best friend's life fall apart over something like that.

There's something you should say, you're almost sure of it, but nothing feels good enough. Pointing out the differences in the situation feels callous and any promises you could make would likely make it seem like you blame his mom. You might not know much about their relationship, but the way Billy talks about her, like her memory's this fragile thing, you know better than to risk it. An apology also doesn't feel like the right answer, you haven't done anything wrong and you don't want to risk bringing up the fight.

You stretch out a hand silently, letting your fingertips brush against the back of his palm. He briefly tenses, but doesn't move away, so you take it as an okay to rest your hand over his.

Your touch is warm and unexpected, an anchor Billy's torn between latching onto and running away from. It's overwhelming, the amount of influence you have over him. Sometimes if he thinks too much about how that uncertainty feels he has to fight to not hold it against you.

"I know it's..." Billy speaks slowly, trying to force himself to believe what he's saying, or at least, focus on it enough to act like he does. "Different, it just..."

You brush your pointer finger across his knuckles. "I know." A warmth that's hard to accept burns through his chest. Billy turns his hand over before loosely linking your fingers together. "Just boundaries, okay?"

Billy nods, a bit more color returning to his face. You straighten your spine to look past Billy's shoulder and at Stu. "That goes for you, too."

"You've got it, babe."

"That means no more threatening guys just because they talked to me." You keep your expression serious in an attempt to stare down Stu. It's probably no where near as menacing as you want it to be. "I'm serious."

He lifts an arm to his chest, drawing an uneven cross over his heart. "Scout's Honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a boy scout."

Stu frowns, "How would you know?"

It's not so much information as it is his vibe. Stu seems way too active and focused on what he'd find fun to have wanted to stick to boy scouting and you doubt his parents have ever been around enough to make him. But that's way too much to answer his question with. "Were you?"

"Ye--"

"He got kicked out," Billy interjects, "After terrorizing a camping trip."

You laugh before you can stop yourself. It's easy to picture Stu a little younger and a lot more impulsive. "That tracks."

"Fuck off," he mumbles before slumping down until he's flat on his back.

Billy turns his head, giving you a look that seems to ask why you two put up with him. The expression is so familiar you can't help your relief. You're still a little rightfully annoyed at them, but the desire to keep them lighter beats that irritation out by an inch. "What'd he do?"

The real answer isn't anything too traumatic, but it involved newly learned pocket knife skills, a frog, and a pathetically squirmish tent mate. But that's not the kind story of you'd be particularly into. It might even make you a little more closed off. They learned early on that while you might be able to handle most scary movies and gore like a champ, you draw a line at anything happening to an animal.

"Imagine that at age 10." Billy vaguely gestures in Stu's direction, Stu lifts an arm to shove Billy. "What didn't he do?" You smile, a little more amused than you want to be. "And you've seen his house...the way he lives..."

Another wave of laughter rises up your throat before you can help it. The implication that Stu was too spoiled to get through a camping trip is a little too fitting.

Stu groans, reaching back for the fluffy pillow. He smacks Billy's arm with it, a passive display of aggression. "It was not like that." Stu turns his neck, "Don't listen to him."

You laugh again, briefly forgetting that you're still supposed to be annoyed with them as you lay down. "I've been to your house, your bathroom has more amenities than a hotel, so I believe him."

He twists his neck to glare at you. It's more of a pout than anything else. "You have a hundred things in your bathroom."

Stu's technically right, but it's different. He's counting in your perfectly reasonable--and reasonably(ish)--priced makeup, skin care, and hair stuff. Not all things you use everyday or necessarily need, but it's different. He has fancy hand soap that leaves skin extra soft and lotion for guests that's nicer than anything you own for yourself. "You're deflecting."

He scoffs, "Can't hear you over the beauty store in your bathroom."

It's said so seriously it circles back to kind of ridiculous. Especially because of how pointless it is. You wrinkle your nose, fighting down a grin. "That doesn't make sense."

Stu's lips part like he's going to instinctually jump to defend himself. Your smile stops him. "It doesn't."

After a beat, the two of you exchange a look and laugh. Billy sighs, shoving Stu's leg and your arm. "You two aren't funny."

"Maybe you're just boring."

Billy looks over at you, glaring. "Really?"

You nod, a little too smug. "Really."

"Don't listen to him." Stu halfheartedly pushes Billy. In retaliation, Billy extends an arm without looking, grabbing Stu's forearm in a way that, to you, looks surprisingly gentle. "He's jealous."

You smile as Stu sits up. "I can so see that."

Billy's eyebrows draw together. "Jealous of what?"

"Our not-boringness." You push yourself so that you're sitting again.

"Yeah, you two are super cool and not weird."

Scoffing, you pull your legs onto the bed and cross them beneath you. "I'm not weird."

Billy tilts his head in the direction of your desk. "How many sticky notes are in--"

"You promised not to use that against me." You cut him off, not overly thrilled at the mention of sticky notes. Early on in your friendship, he found you going through your locker while you were sorting through sticky note and highlighter combos for homework.

His eyebrows pull together, his nose wrinkling a little in a way that's painfully endearing and surprisingly casual. "I promised not to tell anyone." He angles himself towards you, tilting his head downwards. The movements were subtle, but something about the shift makes him feel a lot closer than before. "That's different."

Your breath tangles itself in your throat at his lower tone. You need to say something, because if you don't you'd just be staring and that's--You force out the first thing you can think of, "Technicality."

"Still counts." There's nothing else you can think of and he still feels closer than normal. Before your thoughts can turn into total panic, Billy turns towards Stu, who's digging through his backpack. "What are you doing?"

"Almost forgot." Stu finds what he's looking for. It's small from where you're sitting. He reaches behind Billy's bag to extend whatever he's holding towards you. "Here."

A bag of gummy candies. You take it skeptically, because it's been twisted shut oddly. Smoothing out the wrinkled plastic, you open the bag and look at the contents. A part of you is surprised that it actually does have gummies...only they all look the same. Confused, you shake the bag once and the candies move, confirming it is what it looks like. They're all your favorite.

"I don't like the red ones," he mumbles, not quite looking at you, "But you do, right?"

You grin, pulling a gummy bear out of the bag and biting off its head to put it out of its misery humanely. "The red ones are the best, you're weird for that."

He scoffs, "The cute ones always have bad taste."

"I think you're complimenting yourself with that one." You pop the rest of the gummy into your mouth. "Orange lover."

"The orange ones are objectively--"

"They're all the acidic parts of a real orange without the orangey-ness."

Billy looks over at you. "Orangey-ness?" He's convinced he's heard this argument more times than anyone else alive, but your points are usually a little better.

You glare, pulling another gummy out of your bag. "You're not a part of this, you like the pineapple ones."

Stu laughs, "He also likes grape flavored stuff."

You gasp like Stu just outed Billy as a criminal. "No way."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, already tired, "Make fun of me."

And after a second, he realizes that he really means it. If you're not mad at them, he can handle it.

----

A/n i never know if i should use the final girl tag list for fics that are set in the final girl world (if that makes sense), bc it's an update technically but also not bc it's not the main fic??

idk i've seen other writers on here tag for more than just the main fic and i'm always happy to be tagged in stuff but idk if that's for everyone lol,, lmk if you have any thought!

#scream x reader #final girl fic #scream 1996 #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #ghostface #ask #poly! ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader

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coupleoffanfics · 9 months

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I like the idea of the family reading y/n's old diaries when they're becoming yandere and finding she had some yandere tendencies herself.

Everything thing is fine and normal until y/n's entries start bringing up her boyfriend. How much she loves him and how perfect he is. They kinda brush it off thinking that this is just a teenage girl's first love. Her writing conveys how ecstatic she is by the mere thought of him. She was smitten.

Then they come across multiple pages that are ripped out. The following entry after all the missing pages are a bit worrying and as they keep reading it only gets worse.

’I know I could be considered a bit obsessive, but I can’t help it. I think I’m doing a good job at hiding my feelings because everyone is acting normal.'

’I think I’m getting worse. I can’t go a day without seeing him and I start feeling anxious when he’s not around. I almost started crying because I thought I lost him when shopping. Yes, I know it’s not normal, but I don’t care. He’s all I want and need.’

‘Okay, I have a problem. I actually thought of ways to put a girl in the hospital after she kept flirting with him. He wasn’t reciprocating, proving that he was loyal since she was much better-looking than me. Thought it was not like that’s an achievement, but that’s not the point. I actually thought of hurting someone even trying to justify it by saying that she deserved what she got.'

'I’m actually starting to fear my strong feelings. The thought of him leaving me brings me such emotional distress that I think it adds to the reason why I should bring this up with my therapist. This is not only unhealthy but could become dangerous if I don’t do anything.’

Barbara gains a whole new perspective on y/n's relationship with her boyfriend. Whenever he was brought up there was a brightness in y/n's eyes that made her overlook that dark twinkle. She has seen them together recently and they seem normal, so she wonders if y/n's obsessive nature has weakened. Getting her hands on y/n's newer diary will no doubt have more information about that.

Tim is trying to figure out who the hell her boyfriend is. The name written on multiple pages sounds familiar and later learns that they actually have had a lot of classes together. So while looking into him, Tim is at least satisfied that y/n's obsession isn't a dumbass or anything. He'll do in-depth research on her boyfriend and try to find every little thing about him. Judging him very harshly despite not meeting or even remembering him.

Bruce is a bit weary about this. Okay yeah, him trying to force his daughter back into their lives isn't an ethical thing. But he's worried about where this could lead further down the line if unsupervised. So maybe it's best that he keeps a closer eye on her just in case she does end up doing something. Doesn't believe that she'll end up harming anyone, it's more of an excuse to justify what he's doing.

Dick is surprised by this revelation. He was expecting teenage angst from her diary but got this instead. He's not complaining or anything, it's very insightful. With how much y/n hypes up her boyfriend he can't wait to meet him. He probably digitally scanned every single page of her diary and might use it against y/n at some point only if he has to of course.

Damian might be the least surprised. Okay, that's a lie, he wasn't expecting that. If the family was caught stalking or anything yandere-ish and she was telling them off. He might say, "But it's okay when you do it?" Other than that he doesn't care. As long y/n's significant other doesn't get in his way of getting closer to y/n, then fine. He'll live with this.

I feel like Jason would be the most shocked by this. y/n isn't a young adult to him. Every time he looks at her he just sees a little kid that can't read for shit. Not some obsessive girl chasing some nerd. Whenever y/n is around, he watches her closely trying to figure out what she's thinking. It's just bizarre knowing that y/n, the one who doesn't like punching villains too hard, has thought of hurting one of her classmates.

At the end of the day, they might not do much until y/n's boyfriend starts going insane. Some family members might enable it more than others. At the same time, others will use y/n's unhealthy love against her when she confronts their yandere behavior.

I don't know, just thought it was a fun idea.

#my idea rambling

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peachymilkandcream · 3 months

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Break Me Slowly|Part 26|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I've been dreading making this part because I don't want to be filled with utter sadness. But the plus side is that after this is it'll go back to domestic Evelyn and Levi which I think we all (ME I DO) need. There's at least four chapters left of this series but who knows there might be more, we'll see. I skimming over a lot of the finale because just go watch it for the whole story, I'm just giving the jist as it pertains to the story. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

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Darkness, cold. Is this what the afterlife was like? Like Hange was underwater, the sound of life around her muffled. She was falling, falling....

Slowly one of her eyes opened, a vastness of blue surrounding her. Light shone from above. She was certain that facing those Titans on her own had killed her.

And yet, it felt like a little strength was still in her body after all.

==============================================

There was no time for grief, the next phase of their mission was what required all focus. The plan was dropping the Colossal Titan on Eren was the last resort if reasoning and the disposal of Zeke didn't work out. Mikasa and Armin's hesitation to actually kill their friend was apparent, thankfully the rest saw the reason and that in order to save the world, sacrifices had to be made. Even a beloved friend.

The sound of the plane's engine sputtering brought them all out of their thoughts, there hadn't been enough time to fuel the engine entirely, and now they were facing the consequences of that decision. An order was made to jump out of the plane, all obeying without giving themselves time to think about how crazy this whole thing was.

Titans rose to meet them, swarming in hundreds to defeat their attackers. Forms of those who had used the Titans before, generations of destruction all on display.

Levi's hand touched the back of Evelyn's neck, knowing what was coming next. "You listen to me. If you feel threatened or in danger you come and find me. Alright? I don't care what you think or feel you come right back to me."

She nods, giving him a reassuring smile before diving away from their perch, feeling the sting of the cut in her hand followed by that blinding light. She had started this whole mess, she needed to find some way to gain redemption. Levi didn't quite know how far she was willing to go to atone for her actions.

Blood and gore painted the battlefield, the stark contrast of the white doing nothing but adding to the carnage on display. Against so many how could they hope to ever win? The more they cut down the more came up against them. Even with the power of the Titans they dealt heavy hits. At this rate they wouldn't hold out for long. Ripping Reiner and Evelyn out of their Titans and tossing them aside like dolls into the steam below. Her head knocking hard on the bones on the way down.

He caught her. He always caught her. Safe in his arms until she secured her own line. Annoyance was the prime emotion he conveyed when he was secretly worried. "I told you if you were in danger to come find me. Can't you ever listen to one damn thing I say?"

"I suppose not." Her head was bleeding, she was so dizzy, but Levi didn't mention it.

A Titan out of the corner of her eye moved, intent on making Connie its prey. Before she could react Levi sprung into action, slicing its neck, but not before its jaws clamped down on his leg, sending him falling further.

"Levi no-!" Her scream seemed more desperate than she would have liked, lurching forward and catching him this time. His poor leg battered and beaten, he couldn't fight anymore. She wouldn't let him. He had to stay safe, for her. Even if the cord was slipping out of the bone, even if they were about to be crushed. She couldn't let him go.

"Grab on!" The call came from behind her, a mass of feathers and wings catching them as they flew safely out of the skeleton. They were safe, for now.

Relief flooded them both when their untimely rescue. Her head still throbbed, and a wave a nausea threatened to take over. Levi's look in her eyes confirmed her fear, he wasn't going to let her fight anymore either.

"I'm fine."

"You're not. And you're staying here or so help me-" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Look. You're pregnant, I'm not fucking losing you. If that means that humanity is wiped out and it's just me and you in Paradis then so be it!"

An awkward silence from the rest of those present ensues until she finally relents. "Alright. I'll stay here."

In order to make sure she didn't go back on her word, Levi held onto her belt the instant the others flew off Falco's back. It was time for them to take a back seat. Their mission was over the day they crossed the sea, they would leave it in their hands now.

They thought that the death of Zeke, mixed with a number of the Titans turning on the hostile ones would bring about the end of the Rumbling. And while the monstrous footsteps did stop their task was far from over. The explosion that severed Eren's head would not be enough, the parasite still dove for his head to reconnect it and continue The Rumbling. The only option left was Armin transforming into the Colossal once everyone got clear.

===============================================

It should have been over. That should have been it. The end should have been the embrace of loved ones over victory. No the blast of a second Titan.

Eren's founder marching forward while the parasite continued its crawl to reunite the two and finish what they started. It would only end when he was cut down. They all knew it. But what Evelyn didn't expect was Levi grabbing her hand and pulling her along onto Falco's back.

"We have to go now! The Ackermans and the Titans are the only ones immune."

Numbly she was pulled along until they boarded and took off, the sound of Pieck's sobs ringing in her ears. Staring as her comrades turned into flashes of light and gruesome faces.

It had all been going so well, now they were loosing. Armin and Reiner, overwhelmed and over-taken by their friends turned monsters. They were loosing and there's nothing they could do.

Until Mikasa stood with a determined look in her eyes. "Eren is inside the mouth- Everyone, help me reach him!"

Their descent was hidden in a veil of flames and debris. Only a glimpse was seen of Mikasa until a pause and then Eren's Titan crumbling and shaking the earth with its impact. It was over.

They had won.

===============================================

In the fall they had gotten separated but eventually she found him sprawled on the ground. Without a word passing between them she sat beside him with a sigh.

"I guess you kept your promise."

Levi raises a brow. "Which one?"

"We made it out. You promised. Now..." Evelyn tears up. "We can go home...can't we...?"

His arm wraps around her. " Yes my love. We can go home."

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #aot x reader #aot smut

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chinzhilla · 4 months

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i was tagged by @sandushengshou @khaotunq @baek1nho and @chickenstrangers to post my top/favorite creations from each month of 2023! thank you all so much for thinking of me <33

doing this loosely and with director's commentary bc i can never resist

january: my top set is this winteam hugs one. man i struggled so much with maintaining quality while trying to do that yellow to blue gradient coloring down the set. i definitely remembered it as looking worse than it does though, so i was pleasantly surprised to see that no it looks pretty good actually. probably also my favorite from that month since the others are very basic but honorable mention to my chinzhilla set cause i gotta shout out my beloved namesakes

february: top is jimbo the gogurt cat 😻 february was a slow month for me gif-wise so there aren't that many to choose favorites from, but it's probably my eclipse rewatch ep4 for the coloring

march: well uhh march was even slower than february i have two whole posts from that month and they're both eclipse rewatch sets (this was when my old laptop died and i spent like 3-4 weeks without photoshop). top and fav for this month is the eclipse rewatch ep5

april: top is akkayan in the first our skyy 2 trailer and fav is .... akkayan in the second our skyy 2 trailer (the quality of these is so much better how did i manage to make those first gifs look so bad 😅). honorable mention to my coloring in the eclipse rewatch ep8

may: ahh the our skyy 2 days...take me back..... top is every akkayan kiss as it should be. which i think is also my top post on this blog. as it should be. fav is vegas x it's about time (tw for glitch effect/flashing). there's some stuff there that i would go back and change cause i don't think it comes across great in retrospect, but i'm still really pleased with all the technical details

june: top was minoru's heart eyes part 3 (a gif series i WILL come back to shortly - i think the bleak midwinter is the perfect time for an odt rewatch). fav is akk x identity, but god would i go back and redo the typography and layout of the lines/text boxes (iirc i was like. minutes away from missing the deadline on this event so). still very pleased with the blending and what the set actually conveys though

july: oh look another gif series i've put on hold.... top is word of honor rewatch ep1, fav is tied between kp pretty boys (a set which is very pretty itself, if i do say so myself, and was very fun to make) and lomfontien kiss details (truly one of my all time favs on this blog even though it's so simple also everyone please go watch la pluie right now thank you)

august: bombastic side eye: the series takes the cake this month, which was SUCH a fun set to make (as was its spiritual companion, objectifying him to filth, which trailed by only about 30 notes). fav was charn vs wkx quotes. i honestly think i nailed it both conceptually and aesthetically

september: top is the first kanaphan drinking straw cinematic universe which continues to delight me whenever it shows back up in my notifs. fav is tied between cursed sandray parallels (tw glitch) (because it was one of those where as i was making it and inflicting emotional damage on myself, i knew it was going to be delightful inflicting that damage on others, and it was) and sandray x it will come back (mostly for the neon text and its reflection in the first two i just think it looks really good)

october: top was sandray love scene details (tw flashing) which was basically a rip off of my lomfontien kiss one from july but this one was much more successful lol. favorite is only friends x shameful company (tw flashing) (which now i can't look at without thinking of the sign skdjfds). really happy with the cards gif in particular

november: the guynawa kiss won november and they deserved it. my favorite was jim x loss which took me foreverrrr and i redid the last two gifs like three times but it was worth it. also shoutout to my dan x shadow post for all the 'wait there's actual monsterfucking in this show' reactions it elicited

december: top is phayatharn ep1/ep2 parallels and i have to take back what i said about every akkayan kiss being my top post - this one beats it by three notes! which surprised me but i'm glad we're all in this madness together with these two. fav has got to be morkday x come closer (tw flashing) if only for how much i beat my head against a wall over it during the creation process skdjfskj. although i also really love this set of tharn's sexy dream (nsfw) specifically because i added an offset pink layer and i'm OBSESSED with the way it looks with phaya's tattoo

if you read all that.. thank you and also i'm in love with you. anyways it was super fun to look back on everything i made this year! and interesting to realize i'm not nearly as prolific as i thought, especially in the first half of the year. here's to many more gifsets in 2024!!

tagging a few people i don't think have done this yet, apologies if you already have! and as always no pressure

@i-got-the-feels @pharawee @markpakin @difanghua @junghaesin @krystaljungs @firstmix @khaotunqs

#bon.txt #tag game #gifmaker things

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insurrection-writes · 9 months

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SINCERELY | TVD

"i would live this life a thousands more times just to meet you."

"i wouldn't."

Two.

Parts : ONE TWO THREE …

a/n: this part really sticks with me still, even though I wrote it many months ago. the emotions I tried to convey with a little shitty poetry seem to work, so yay! i have a few little unfinished “chapters” after this that I’ll start working to finish on my next day off. not promising anything consistent but i feel the itch to write at the moment.

Sunlight dwindles into dusk. Blue fades into hues of pink and orange, only to be extinguished into the darkness of night. With twinkling stars reflecting into dripping wetness from her eyes, Mauve cries.

Soft, inaudible sobs. Lightly bubbled in her chest, yet heavy weighing on her soul, spilling out between the hands clamped over her mouth to quiet sounds that no one would hear either way.

She cries for what she has lost. She cries for what she will never gain. She cries for everything and nothing all the same.

That anxiety would never fade. The fear and paranoia of being found would stick, even after death. In a house so silent you would swear to hear imaginary things, the thought of breaking this silence was stricken enough.

She cries, yearning for physical touch. She cries for comfort. She cries for everything.

The memories that still haunt her. The routine thoughts and actions that kept her safe, not needed but still followed. The first of many times, and the last of many failures to protect herself.

She cries, starving for validation. She cries for reprieve. She cries for nothing.

Cries fade, tears dry, a stuffy nose and tired eyes. Trained on the wall, unfocused, she gets a sense of deja vu.

The realization of yet another depressing episode commencing startles her.

It shouldn't be this way. She should be fixed.

Shes not.

A radio stationed on the window sill, it's sounds bleeding out into the garden. Soft melodies a constant, never an ad or talking voice.

The rush of water from the hose, being directed over the plants. Soaking into the soil, trails of water following its own paths into the planting bed.

Leaves rustling in the wind, branches swaying from the force. Whispers of squirrels and other woodland creatures chattering in the distance.

In this peace, Mauve settles her mind. It's been 36 days since her break down. 508 days since she arrived here.

Some days are better than others. She has stopped wondering how and why. She's just thankful for the quiet.

Her quiet oasis. Floating in the rift between worlds. Peaceful and soul healing. Something of a cosmic joke and miracle rolled into one.

Her quiet oasis. Until it's not.

She hears it before she sees it. The ruffle of feathers and squawking of birds hitting the sky. The thunderous hooves of wild deer rushing through the forest.

Trees grounding from added weight and tumbling to the ground. Underbrush being ripped from it roots.

It last for many seconds until it quiets. Unsettling silence. The paranoia ticks in Mauves brain. This is different. Unwelcome.

Until something breaks the silence. Branches snapping, leaves rustling against something large. It breaks the tree line.

A wolf. A very large wolf.

It's almost comical in size. She's watched enough animal planet in her time to know that wolves are larger than dogs, but certainly not this large. It's towering over her, it's shoulders above her five foot six inch head. At almost 15 yards away and separated by a fence, a thrill of horror still bites down Mauves spine.

This cannot be real.

It sniffs the air, it's heavy claws tearing the grass beneath it. She sucks in a slow breathe, her mind entering fight or flight.

Slowly backing up, cautiously, to the kitchen door. She stumbles, mistaking the number of steps, and brushes against the gnome on the bricks. Sending it toppling over, clattering to the ground. Splintering into tiny pieces as the wolfs head snaps in her direction.

It's hackles raised, teeth bared. As Mauve wrenches open the door, throwing herself inside, this beast takes into a full sprint, crossing the distance in seconds before slamming itself into the invisible barrier.

She watches from the window as it tries again and again to slip past some magical force just feet away from her fence that would've been just a step to this monster.

Still staring outside, Mauve wonders why she seemingly recognizes it. She wonders why a random wolf would seem so familiar.

When it stops and breathes heavily for a few moments, it's pounding breathes slowing as it sits, turned to face the window she occupies, that she realizes.

Electric yellow eyes meeting her stormy blue.

She knows those eyes.

#elijah mikaelson #tvd elijah #tvd stefan #tvd damon #tvd fanfiction #tvd klaus #klaus mikaelson #klaus #Elijah #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #soulmates #soulmate!au

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yeonjun4beagles · 2 years

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02:16a.m | cyj

a/n: based on this video i found on twitter, god i immediately teared up watching it :') i've never ever analyses a dance this way before and i have little to no knowledge about dancing but here i am, writing this bdjslqlakalqbdbd i would also recommend you guys watching the choreo first before reading, just so you can get a gist of what i'm trying to convey hehe enjoy reading, loves! <3

goodbye love, you flew right by, love

you instantly smiled, hearing one of your favourite songs played on the speaker, coming from yeonjun's playlist. "didn't know you listen to this song, jjun", you said as you walked past him, grabbing one of the mics and turning it on.

"of course i listen to it, you love the song, am i right?", yeonjun lovingly looked at you as you took a spot beside him. "mhmm".

remember the way you made me feel, such young love but, something in me knew that it was real, frozen in my head,

you started singing along, closing your eyes to the melody, the song completely engulfing you in your feelings. yeonjun closely watched, the way your eyebrows scrunched, the way you lips curved, the way those lines on your forehead formed, like you were truly hiding your pains inside.

pictures I'm living through for now, trying to remember all the good times, our life was cutting through so loud, memories are playing in my dull mind,

you quickly snapped out of the trance you're in, the rustling beside you causing it. you saw yeonjun getting up, his body slowly, flawlessly moved on its own to the song, his eyes never leaving yours, holding the same pained gaze.

i hate this part, paper hearts, and I'll hold a piece of yours, don't think I would just forget about it, hoping that you won't forget about it

you continued, your voice now guiding yeonjun in his steps, he himself lost in your world, his movements complimenting every single emotions you're pouring out. yeonjun closes his eyes, letting just whatever he's feeling direct his steps.

i live through pictures, as if I was right there by your side, but you'll be good without me, and if I could just give it some time, i'll be alright,

you could feel it, the pain in the hurriedness of his steps, like he's trying to run from whatever pain that's hurting him, to just buy himself some time and the tugging motion he did, like he was stripping apart whatever memories binding him, ripping away all the reminders of those agony. by now you were holding in your tears, truly mesmerised by how graceful yeonjun looked, how he achingly conveys each and every sentiments the song is about.

pictures I'm living through for now, trying to remember all the good times,

truthfully, yeonjun wasn't. it hurts, everything just hurts, he doesn't want to but his mind just keeps on playing everything. you almost let out a tiny gasp, seeing how beads of tears rolls down yeonjun's cheeks, choosing to just swallow in whatever you're about to say and finishing the song.

as the song comes to an end, yeonjun took a seat beside you, you're both huffing from the excruciatingly painful, unspeakable feelings in your chest. you take a look at him, seeing how his rosy cheeks huffs, his hair slightly sticking to his forehead from the sweat, how beautifully shattered a person can be.

unknowingly, you took his hand in yours, pressing light, feathery kisses on each of his knuckles, showing how much love you have for him, how right now he is safe with you, how he can let go of what's making him this broken. a smile thoughtlessly broke through yeonjun's face, feeling his heart swell at how gentle you're loving him.

the hand that was once in your hands is now placed on your cheeks, cold against your warm ones. you unconsciously leaned into his hands, feeling how safe and how home he made you feel.

yeonjun grinned, thanking whatever the universe planned to have you by his side, before placing a warm, long kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes at just how everything felt right in that moment.

"i am here too, y/n. always, always will be here".

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tact-and-impulse · 1 day

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@shepherds-of-haven, nothing like a reunion between long lost childhood friends to complicate a dire situation. Spoilers for alpha build chapter 4, AO3 link!

simple charm part 2

Something had to change.

Actually, a lot of things needed to, but the latest one was occupying Halek’s thoughts. The epidemic was whittling away at the Reach, with no end in sight. Twenty funerals, despite the quarantine. And the only viable cure was beneath a mountain of profane spawn that would trigger any Hunter’s blood rage. Focusing on supplies had occupied his attention, but after a month of winter, that distraction was waning. Time was running out.

“If I may speak, sol.” A soft voice interrupted.

He grimaced. Of course, she wouldn’t leave him be. “Go on, Moonsilk.”

Fabric rustled, as his dreaded fiance moved to stand in front of him. Swathed in red, she looked like a bloody nightmare. “You must decide. The lachryma is the only thing that can save our people.”

“We can’t spare anyone in the city.”

“Send a refugee, or a mixed-blood.” The latter term was delivered with an edge of disdain.

But he wasn’t going to sacrifice anyone, regardless of where or who they were born to. “You’re talking about civilians. They’d be ripped to shreds before getting anywhere near the lachryma. I’d rather go instead.” Wasn’t that a thought? A horrible end, certainly, but maybe faster than the slow torture of having Moonsilk for a wife.

“You cannot, as our destined savior. Our people rely on you for guidance.” She somberly said, though her blue irises glinted. “Unless, you first secure the line of succession?”

His skin crawled at the suggestion. “Fine. An outsider, then. But I’m not letting them enter the Cave without knowing the dangers.” This spiraled into another argument, about how much to convey, what secrets of the Reach were worth divulging. His head was pounding, and he barely registered the faint bell that his brother had returned from the hunt.

“Sol, I encountered Shepherds. You’ll want to speak to them.” There was a note of urgency in Naolin’s voice that couldn't be ignored.

He glanced in his twin’s direction and his breath stopped in his throat. Both of the strangers were dark-haired and clad in navy, but they looked nothing alike otherwise. The man was tall and held himself with the uprightness of a Ket warrior, a longsword hanging at his side. However, all of his attention was on her, as if a beam of soft light illuminated her presence. Wavy locks were marked by a white streak, and her pale anxious face stared back at his. Bright violet eyes glowed with power.

“Diru, it’s Kalmia.” His brother’s words barely left his mouth, before Halek closed the distance and embraced her. She was a foot shorter, and she made a soft sound of surprise, as he lifted her. The scent of edelweiss filled his nose, and his chest ached. It was her.

“You’re alive.” He choked out and set her down to look over her. He damn near pinched himself, just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. “Kalmia Metella. You…how are you alive?” He had so many questions, and he didn’t know where to begin.

She looked downcast, her soft voice tight with emotion. “Halek…it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Naolin said there’s a plague? Commander Bronwyn and I are here to help.”

“We were sent to investigate.” Her companion said. He glared at everyone else with open suspicion. “Captain Metella, you know these people?”

“The twins, yes. They often visited my hometown when I was younger. You could say we grew up together. And, um…” She trailed off, unsure how to address the woman she didn’t know.

Halek awkwardly cleared his throat, and then, he remembered he was still clasping Kalmia’s shoulders. Reluctantly, he let go and stepped aside. “This is my…this is Moonsilk.”

“We are betrothed.” Moonsilk swiftly added.

Kalmia’s expression froze. “Oh.”

Somehow, he felt strangely guilty, and it wasn’t helped by Moonsilk’s piercing stare at him, before she curtseyed. Kalmia bowed her head in response, and only he caught the slight smirk on his fiance’s lips.

“I don’t believe I’ve heard your name before. Maj was known to have been destroyed by demons, and yet, you escaped.” Moonsilk intoned, and Halek bristled. Why did she have to open her mouth?

“And I’m the only one who survived.” There was bitter grief in Kalmia’s words, and he heard no falsehood in them. “But like I said, that’s a long story and we have more pressing matters.” Her burning eyes turned up to Halek. “I’m Elae, a Healer. I can try curing everyone.”

“A Healer? It suits you.” He could have laughed out loud at the irony. “But we’ve had Healers come and try, without success. This plague is something else.”

“But there is another way you can help.” Moonsilk cut in. “The sol can tell you.”

He glared at her, but the infuriating woman was already examining the other Shepherd, declaring he was sick. She ushered the commander away to the infirmary, throwing Halek an impassive stare. An outsider, without a Hunter’s blood-rage. Damn it.

He took Kalmia’s arm, leading her to the inner sanctum, and Naolin’s footsteps echoed in their wake. “I’m sorry about Moonsilk.”

“The one the council chose?” She seemed to mull over her words, settling on a halting description. “She’s a bit…strange.”

He scoffed. “That’s a way of putting it. Personally, I think it’s all a conniving act.”

“And you’re not married.”

“As long as I have the will to fight her off.”

“The engagement still stands though.” Naolin reminded them of his presence. “Despite your many attempts.”

“I don’t blame you. You wouldn’t be happy.” Kalmia stated.

“Not that a sol ought to be.” Halek stole a glance at her again, as if to make sure she was still there. Her coat was standard issue for the military, but insufficient for the harsh winters here. “Are you cold?”

“I’m alright. It’s been quite a day. I didn’t expect to reunite with you so soon.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were alive.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He tried a smile. “There are far worse things than seeing an old friend back from the dead.”

Kalmia looked askance. “Are your parents alright?”

“Mother’s sick. Father passed away last year, naturally as possible for a Hunter.”

“It was his time.” Naolin somberly added.

“I’m so sorry. I remember him. When my parents were alive, they always spoke well of him.”

The main door of the sanctum came into view, and Naolin took point. “Diru, you should show her.”

“I was going to.” Instead of walking past his brother, he headed for a side corridor, to the new room of remembrance. The array of candles was unlit, but the smell of fragrant smoke lingered permanently here. The gray stone slab was placed in the center, and he gestured towards it. “I guess we’ll have to remove your name.”

She cried out, upon reading the inscriptions. Each line was the name of someone from Maj, and her fingers landed on her father’s, then Zori’s. Fresh tears gathered at her eyes, and she hurriedly scrubbed them away. “A monument to Maj?”

“It took some time but our father commissioned this within a year. He always regretted not convincing yours to bring everyone here. Trust me, we would have rather had the people, instead of their names. But they’ll never be forgotten. In our records, everyone’s a martyr, the highest honor we can afford to civilians who died fighting demons.”

“Thank you. This means so much to me.” She clasped her hands in a moment of quiet prayer, before taking a shuddering breath. “I’ll pay more respects later, after this is over.”

He would have given her another minute, but she insisted. They entered the sanctum, and she stared at the murals in awe while he opened the books. Why couldn’t it have been a random stranger, instead of her? But he didn’t have any qualms about spilling the whole story. He explained the disease, the lachryma, and finally the Cave of Many Mouths filled with Ghasts. It was a daunting task to anyone, yet she only nodded.

“Of course, I’ll do it. Even if it wasn’t my job, I’d want to.” It struck him then, how completely different she was from Moonsilk.

“Thank you.” He exhaled, and the tension of the past weeks lifted. “Then again, you’ve always been unbelievably kind. I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”

A nervous laugh followed. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m a Shepherd?”

“Still not a fan of the Autarch, but right now, we need the lachryma. How long have you been working with the Shepherds?”

“Since early summer. Not that long.”

“Your boss said you’re a captain.”

“That’s only because Blade needed another squad leader.”

“No offense, but he doesn’t seem like the type to randomly promote people. Knowing you, you’ve earned it. And you look a little different.” An understatement. No longer the coltish teenager in his memory, but a young woman who could effortlessly turn every head in a room. He focused instead on the white streak in her dark hair. “Not in a bad way. Confident in that cloak, and more comfortable with your Mage abilities…” Sad. She looked as if she’d been through so much, and he desperately wanted to sit her down and give her a warm drink. If only they had time. “You’re shining too.”

“What?” She was bewildered.

“I can sense it.” He admitted. “I don’t know whether it’s because I wasn’t fully trained when we were kids or it’s something new for you, but it doesn’t feel of this world. I don’t mean to scare you, I could be imagining it. We’ve had a rough time here.” He told her how many they’d already lost, and she frowned.

“I understand. I’ll bring the lachryma back.”

“Thank you.”

And then, Moonsilk somehow sidled her way in. The look she cast was frigid. In that strange ethereal tone she affected, she announced that Blade Bronwyn was confined to the infirmary. And Kalmia had to depart.

He and Naolin would escort her to the opening of the Cave, and they headed to the stables together. Her ahfuri perked up immediately, nuzzling into her welcoming embrace. She always did like cats. Halek couldn’t resist smiling as he saddled his elk. Then, to his chagrin, Moonsilk was pulling at his coat, acting the part of the devoted fiance making sure he was warm for travel. He turned his gaze away, unwilling to play along when people were dying. He caught Naolin’s uncomfortable expression, and for an instant, Kalmia’s violet eyes observing them, before her ahfuri yowled. As soon as Moonsilk’s grip relented, he snapped the reins.

It wasn’t until a few minutes into their ride that Kalmia slowly said. “You two haven’t really changed.” The snow had settled in the dark locks that escaped her hood, and her scarf covered the lower half of her face.

“Taller, I thought.” Halek drawled.

“Well, yes!” She gave a short laugh, more like a puff of air. “But I’m glad you’ve stayed true to yourselves.”

“So have you, even as a Shepherd. I guess it’s still a way of killing demons and saving lives.” He could sympathize with that much, at least.

“Speaking of which, I should tell you about Maj.”

“It can wait-”

“No, I want to. It started on my thirteenth birthday.” She sucked in a breath, and delivered a tragedy. The strange figure in her room, a haphazard celebration broken by an intrusive presence, the Endarkened’s indiscriminate slaughter. Lothar’s limp corpse on the blood-soaked ground, and overwhelming tragic defeat. Despite the passage of time, Kalmia’s voice was raw with anguish. “I heard Zori screaming and screaming, then nothing. Just gone. Everyone, gone. What else did I have? I thought it was the end. But something welled up inside, a power that wasn’t magic, and I gave it a word. I don’t know what it was, but I wanted the demon to go away. It did, and so did everything else. I’m not sure what kind of power it is, but it’s limited, at least that’s what the figure said.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of anything like this.” Halek said. “But whatever it is, it saved you. What about if you’re in danger?”

“Yes, I can use the Words in those situations. I joined the Shepherds because I used one in a church to save two civilians from a Cacophant, and since then, two more times against Faceless Lords.”

“Wait.” Naolin blurted. “Did you say Faceless Lords?!”

“Oh, sorry. I should have mentioned that. I’ve destroyed three Faceless Lords.”

Halek and Naolin simultaneously turned to each other in astonishment. Five elusive Defilers, so-called generals of Tapyt’s Horde, and she’d taken down more than one? Halek managed to speak first. “You only used two, but you killed three. So you defeated a third without this weird power?”

“Quiial was kind of weak, and not worth spending a Word on.” The funny thing was that she delivered this knowledge in a matter-of-fact tone, like the Dream-Eater was a measly bug. Halek snorted.

“…who’s left?” Naolin stuttered.

“From what I remember, Buubas and Jarkyth.”

They almost missed the Cave’s opening, already barely discernible from the rocky landscape. They stopped just in time and Kalmia was laden with supplies, although she wisely declined the torch that Naolin offered. She double checked the ties on the gourds and canteens, meant for collecting the lachryma. Halek went over the paths to avoid and the legends of the glowing moss that marked the path, but he was becoming uneasy with each piece of thousand-old information. What if everything was useless? He passed her the final item, a spool of thread. “You’re insanely powerful, but this can help in finding your way back. Be careful.”

“Of course.” She tugged the scarf down and smiled at him. “I’ll find the lachryma. I promise.”

His chest squeezed and he had to resist the urge to hug her again. “Thank you.”

She turned, facing the crevice for a still moment, the snow swirling around her. Then, she walked forward and vanished out of sight.

***

The wait soon proved to be excruciating. In a rocky alcove that diverted the brutal winds, the twins huddled, feeding and watering the elk. The ahfuri, Uwala, skeptically accepted a bag of chow. Jerky, hardtack, and dried berries gradually restored their weary bodies, enough to talk.

“Buubas is which one again?”

“The Infected One.” Naolin answered, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Pestilence, blight, sickness.”

He pointedly looked at his twin. “It’s possible.”

“A likelier cause than the Blood Drinker, but the records only tell of affecting natural resources and agriculture.”

“What if it decided to target humans directly? It would explain why the Wildfire Fever hasn’t been cured.”

“If so, the Faceless Lord has been feeding on the life forces of our people.”

At the grim sentiment, Halek had to change the subject. “So…did you recognize Kalmia?”

“Yes, but she knew who I was first, by a split second.” Naolin tended their small campfire, and his brows pulled together. “I don’t know why she didn’t come to Uth Baryd, after Maj was wiped out. We would have taken her in.”

It was mysterious, but Halek stifled his curiosity for the time being. “She must’ve had a reason, although the early days weren’t pretty to witness. Too much infighting and prejudice. And even after demons invading Blest, we’re still too slow to change.”

Naolin’s frown deepened. “Yes, but in the grand scheme of things, almost ten years isn’t that long.”

“That kind of thinking is what got us into this mess!” He snapped. “Waiting and watching this plague, twiddling our thumbs during quarantine. Maybe this would’ve already been over, if we called for help sooner.”

“From who, diru?” Naolin retorted. “We would’ve risked spreading the disease, especially if it is Buubas. Not even the Shepherds existed before summer, and I doubt the Autarch gave us a passing thought until we shut down the city.”

“This is just conjecture on our part, we didn’t even ask. And here we are, relying on Kalmia. She went into the mountain, without expecting a single favor in return.” His temper flared. “If anything happens to her, I’d never forgive myself.”

“It’s only been a few hours. She could be here any minute, and she’s powerful.”

“But she’s still mortal.” Not even his brother had a counterargument.

Then, there was faint noise from the crevice. Halek stood, hurrying towards the opening, as a gloved hand emerged. He took hold, feeling her flinch, but continued to pull. He didn’t account for the extra weight of sloshing gourds though, and he fell on his back, Kalmia landing right on top of him. Naolin went to them, retrieving the containers with haste, all full of lachryma.

“You’re unbelievable.” He breathed and his gaze moved from her bright eyes to her lips. He could have kissed her in this moment; his hand moved on its own, wrapping around the back of her head. Then, his brain kicked in, and he bumped their foreheads together. He muttered nonsensical praise, but that was better than dangerous temptation. “Do you have to rest? It’s almost dawn.”

“I’m okay. Let’s go to the patients.”

The urge flared again, and he turned away from her smile, giving the excuse of helping her up. Her quiver was noticeably emptier. “Did you fight the Ghasts?”

“No, I managed to evade them. When I came to the pool, I drank a little and noticed an opening of light, so I shot my arrows through it. That way, we can find the pool from aboveground if we need more.”

And that reminded him. “Good, because we can protect it. If we seal it off from the rest of the tunnels, we’ll accomplish something else: flood the caves and be rid of the Ghasts forever.” And a Faceless Lord, if that was the real cause. But they’d never know for sure, and frankly, he had no inclination of confirming as much.

Nevertheless, the lachryma had been retrieved, and as they rode home, the sun was rising on a victorious day.

***

Slowly, Uth Baryd was healing. The last of the sick beds were emptied, the hearth fires were lit, and the city would devolve into raucous celebration in a few days, to celebrate the end of quarantine.

In the meantime, they were going to secure the lachryma. Blade and Naolin trudged ahead, talking about the flooding logistics. Meanwhile, Halek was content to match Kalmia’s pace. He had told the civilians not to bother the Shepherds, but that didn’t stop them from smiling and waving in their direction. Kalmia mirrored the gestures, and he noticed how her gaze lingered on the mixed-blood families, the Hunter refugees with their spouses and children.

Quietly, she asked. “Are you wondering why I never came here in all this time?”

“Wondering doesn’t turn back the clock. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

She stared into the distance, and her fingers played with the new amethyst ring. “When Maj was attacked, I couldn’t fight or use magic. I was helpless. It was only because of the Word, that I just barely escaped. I only went to Leore first because it was closest, so I could earn money. And in Leore…” She trailed off, eyes glassy with remembering. “That’s a story for later. But I felt lost the whole time. Not a Mage and not a Hunter. I was trying to learn how to protect myself, to make sure what happened to Maj couldn’t happen again if I was around, before I could think of the Reach. And as the months turned to years, I thought it was less and less likely I’d be accepted. I’m ashamed that I thought wrong.”

“It wasn’t like this at first.” He insisted. “At the beginning, there was friction between the Hunters and the incoming refugees. Arguments, brawls, you name it. It took time and the reminder of Maj that we became used to living together. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect coexistence, but this wasn’t even possible ten years ago.”

“And it’s amazing to see.” By now, Blade and Naolin were waiting for them, and once they were in earshot, Kalmia paused. “Also, I’m sorry. I might have been young and alone and scared, but there’s no excuse for worrying you, Halek and Naolin.”

They were facing the southern peaks, he realized, and the memories of pathetic teenage angst rushed in, along with secondhand embarrassment. He cracked his neck, relieving the tension. “I’m sorry too, that you suffered all these years.”

“And we are forever indebted to you, for saving our people.” Naolin somberly said.

Indeed, they really did owe her. It was actually funny, to see the array of arrows studding the snowy ground around a small hole. But the pool itself shone like a jewel, untouched as the explosives went off. It was worth dragging his feet to the council, to see their stunned expressions at the report.

Afterwards, they were free to laze about. Halek caught up on sleep, dozing off to Naolin’s pen scritching. And just like old times, the twins and Kalmia ducked from responsibility. They visited her chambers, procuring books, card decks, and snacks. She’d found a liking for tea, always ready with a pot and three cups. Day by day, she was looking better.

It also provided the opportunity to introduce her to Mother, now that she was cured from the plague. Although Halek and Naolin had given her one of the first doses of lachryma, she was still very weak. They’d placed a firm restriction against visitors, to give her some peace; it hadn’t stopped her from inquiring about the state of things and how the lachryma was obtained.

Torassa had been a formidable archer in her youth, but since the twins’ childhood, she’d settled into her role of managing the flow of intelligence in and out of the Reach. Not quite a spy, but more discreet than others were aware of. She rarely raised her voice, yet under her polite demeanor, a core of steel remained strong as ever. She was sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows and skimming documents.

At the threshold, Kalmia immediately made the greeting gesture, and when she spoke, it was in Uth. “Greetings, aunt.”

Mother’s eyes widened, but she gave a pleased smile. “Greetings, child. It is so good to finally meet you. Thank you for being friends with my sons.”

“I’m very happy to be friends with them too.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you. Halek and Naolin told me everything, about how brave you were. You hold your colleagues to a high standard.”

The praise visibly flustered her, but she said instead. “I would’ve done it, even if I wasn’t a Shepherd.”

They had an hour together for mint tea, cider, and gingerbread. The small talk wasn’t new, mostly Kalmia sharing memories of Maj and the twins in their childhood; the atmosphere was pleasant and cozy, nothing like the frigid courtesy whenever Moonsilk tried to pry information out of Mother. It was refreshing.

After Kalmia left, to take her restless ahfuri for a run, Mother folded her hands in her lap. “She’s a sweet girl.” She pointedly looked at Halek.

“What?”

“Are you going because of her?”

“That was decided by the council.” His attempt was rewarded with a smack from his dear brother.

“Yes, and you gave them the idea that you should join the Shepherds! With me, as acting leader in your place!”

“You’ll do great, you’re much better than I am.” And he meant it. It wasn’t fair that Naolin was forever treated as second choice due to an incident of birth.

“Moonsilk will sulk.”

“She won’t argue against the council’s decree. Besides, isn’t the savior’s destiny of saving the world more important?” He glanced at Mother. “And Kalmia’s been through enough, I want to help her. As a friend.” He tried not to think about her fuller bottom lip.

“I understand, but you should be careful. Haven is the home of the Autarch, the place where our people were banished from.” She took each of their hands, and his stomach twisted at how fragile her touch was now. “Of course, I’ll worry, and for both of you. Half a year is the longest you’ll be away from each other. Will you at least write?”

“I’ll send letters as often as I can.” He promised and was drawn into the familial hug that Mother pulled them in.

At the end of the week, the celebration was initiated with an overly long ceremony. Drowning in the heavy formal robes of the sol, Halek idly scratched at the fur collar. To his right, Naolin sat properly in the matching garb of the sola. The chair to his left was empty, reserved for the sol’s consort, although he sensed Moonsilk’s stare radiating from her seat by the council. One of the old geezers must have spilled it beforehand, because she made her displeasure known, blatantly ignoring his entrance. Whispers had scattered amongst the crowd, the intensity of gossip would rival the bonfires by nightfall. Not that he particularly cared.

His gaze drifted to the guests of honor. Blade had opted for his Shepherd uniform, while Kalmia wore a charcoal gown, paired with an intricately embroidered turquoise shawl. The latter was an obvious acknowledgment of the lachryma pool, and later, it was easy to find her in the city streets.

He had to suffer all of the etiquette and platitudes, letting Naolin do the talking for them. Meanwhile, he spotted her in the distance. Kids were clamoring around her, and she knelt to meet them at eye level, answering their questions. They brought black and white flowers, angel’s nightshade, as little offerings. At his next glance, she was weaving a crown, her hands twisting in practiced motions.

When he was finally released from formal duties, he headed in her direction, only for Blade to step in line with him. His new boss too, now. Blade was reiterating the duties of a Shepherd, that he’d be a Captain overseeing a unit of exorcists. As it turned out, the Order desperately needed some.

“There are children staying with us, who need to be cleared before returning to their families. They were under the sway of a Faceless Lord’s cult, but Metella saved them.”

“Of course, she did. Why doesn’t she have her own unit?”

“I plan to assign her a group of new recruits when we return. She’s proven her value, many times over.” Blade nodded in her direction. The flower crown was perched in her matching hair, and Halek smiled.

“Her deeds have already been added to our historical records, to tell her story for generations.”

“She was also gracious enough to forgive your fiance for that stunt.” He practically snarled the last word, and Halek hung his head.

“Unfortunately, it didn’t surprise me. Moonsilk is conniving and scheming. But Kalmia’s always had a good heart.” He recalled her slight frown, her voice carrying on the wind despite obvious exhaustion. I don’t agree with what you did, I think it was wrong. But I won’t ask for payback.

Blade gruffly informed. “We also have days off. Feel free to use yours to catch up.” Funny guy, he had a soft center deep down.

“Appreciate it.”

The kids had dispersed, but Kalmia had been bombarded with more gifts. She was holding two tankards of mead, clearly stymied on what to do with them. Halek grabbed both by the handles, and winked.

“I’ll take these. There you go, Commander.” He passed one over. “Can’t have the Mage getting drunk.”

“I agree.” He took a sip, though Halek suspected it was out of politeness.

“Thank you.” Kalmia said. “Nobody wants to hear me decline anything tonight.” Right on cue, a squawking old woman thrust a vase into her arms.

It became almost a game, to sort through the sheer amount of presents she was receiving. When Naolin rejoined them, he grudgingly accepted his share of liquor and homemade goodies too. As the moon climbed higher, the dancing began. Halek pointed out buxom girls, Naolin’s type, for his twin to ask, only to receive vigorous head shakes in response.

“No, I’m not going to dance!”

“I’m already spoken for, so you should have fun for both of us. Same goes for you, Kalmia.” He had noticed the stares on her left temple, the obvious interest emanating from the people around their age.

Her gaze skimmed over the crowd of firelit shadows, and her lips pressed together. “No, I’m fine here.”

Blade then said. “You danced with Lady Ushala once.”

“Well, I felt so sorry for her. Oh, I should tell you about the gala.” Kalmia turned to the twins and put an end to their bickering, relaying the details of her adventures so far. Blade rarely interjected, only to clarify a thing or two. However, the stories enveloped their little huddle, and the music faded away into the night.

And two days later, Halek locked the door to his room, giving the key to Mother. He leaned down for her to kiss the top of his head, a long-standing gesture that sprouted nostalgia in his heart. Then, he shouldered his pack and descended the long stairs out. Through the windows, he glimpsed the Black Shield members, the ones he trusted most to accompany him in Haven. They were saying goodbye to their families and partners, and he was about to find his elk in the stables, when his path was blocked.

Moonsilk was cloaked in white, perhaps attempting a bridal appearance, ruined by her petulant expression. “You were leaving without a farewell.”

He heaved a sigh. “I haven’t seen you since the party, and I didn’t have the time to search. So, bye. Is there anything else you want to hear?”

She glared outside, her fingers twisting in her long skirts. “Not from you. I will tell you this: remember our people rely on you, our destined savior. The prophecy-”

“None of this is new.” He cut her off, walking around her figure. “And you should remember that our people were just saved, but not by me.”

It was a relief to step into the crisp winter air. Blade was already scouring through the maps, and Naolin was speaking to Kalmia. He enclosed a shard of the Mornhaven Gate in her palm. “May it protect you and my brother.” So serious.

“Halek can protect himself.” Kalmia countered but tucked the shining white stone away in a drawstring bag. “Thank you, Naolin. Please take care too.”

As for Halek, he hugged his twin one last time. “See you later. I’ll write once I’m in Haven.”

“Stay safe. And diru…I hope you’ll be careful of everything.”

“I will.” Much later, he would realize the implication of Naolin’s words. Still, he didn’t look back at all.

***

The Shepherds’ compound was a veritable maze, and Halek was quickly introduced to the others in charge. Trouble clapped his back and boisterously offered a tour, while Tallys mentioned the garden had space for herbs and vegetables to grow. Shery adjusted her glasses, her voice barely above a whisper as she said there were some relics to purify. Riel brought him a stack of paperwork to sign, only for Chase to swipe it away and crow over the stuffy language. The last two were also newcomers, Red and Ayla; the former shook his hand, the latter gave a curt nod. And besides them, there were many others who had joined the ranks; residents of Haven, merchants, thieves, Mages from Capra.

There was one more that Kalmia personally introduced. “This is Caine, he’s our…junior recruit.” The curly-haired boy couldn’t have been more than twelve years old.

Caine looked between them. “So you grew up together?”

“Yes, he came to Maj every few months, since I was even younger than you.” Kalmia explained.

“Huh.” He had to crane his head to fully look at Halek. “I can’t really imagine you as little kids…”

He shrugged. “It was years ago but I still remember our first meeting. She was small. Cute.”

Kalmia made a sound of protest, turning away in embarrassment. But he already caught the rising flush in her face. Still cute, actually.

He couldn’t resist tousling her hair and her hands instantly flew up, her fingertips brushing his wrist. The familiarity of the gesture struck something within him, like a flame, warm and strangely intense. He grinned and clasped her shoulder, pulling her towards his chest as he held on tighter.

“Halek, what are you…wait-” She was trying to say, between gasps and laughter.

“...I think it’s about time to feed Dog. Yeah. I’m gonna go…” Caine squinted, as he backtracked. “Kalmia, let me know when we can practice!”

“Of course, I will.”

“Practice?” Halek repeated.

“I promised I’d teach him how to use a weapon. Just for self-defense!”

It wasn’t her only commitment. While he and the other Hunters sent the quarantined kids home for Wintersun, she was running drills with her new unit and volunteering in the infirmary. Kalmia was frequently sought after, probably because she was so kind and approachable. Everyone seemed a little in love with her, asking for her attention. At first, he found it amusing, but as time passed, he was feeling…annoyed? Dismayed? He didn’t know how to name the emotion.

“Not to mention, our own Black Shield. Veos is very charmed by her.” Valka dryly said. “And so are Jansa and Ekkelar and-”

“Yeah, she’s popular.” He muttered.

“What’s this, are you moping?”

“No, I’m saying she barely has time to take care of herself. Between missions, newbies, and patients, she’s bound to collapse.”

“Give her an excuse to take a break. Your birthday’s coming up, after all.”

That was certainly an idea, but he didn’t want anyone to make a fuss. So, when he overheard the Hunter recruits’ plans of honoring that day, he hid in the secret spots he uncovered within the tower. A blind alcove, a cleared supply room, a terrace. Sure, he missed Mother and Naolin, but he enjoyed actually having the day to himself for once. No groveling at his feet, no droning about destiny, no beseeching expectant smiles.

The wind carried the scent of edelweiss. “Halek? I thought I’d find you here.”

“Damn, I should’ve worn camouflage.”

That earned him a laugh, as she sat beside him, nudging a slim green book into his hands. “But I have your present. Happy birthday.”

“Oh…thanks.” Somehow, he was embarrassed. His thumb pried it open, and landed on a page filled with instructions. Instructions on how to make pumpkin dumplings. “Isn’t this…?”

“It’s the Metella family recipe book. At least, all the ones I knew when I was thirteen.” She wryly said. “I wrote them down, I was afraid of forgetting. And I added some more, my favorites I picked up over the years. It’s not very extensive though.”

He looked incredulously at her. The book wasn’t only an appreciation for his love of cooking, but also a collection of her memories. “It’s amazing. I’ll make everything in here, what do you want first?”

“I’ll leave it up to you. I trust your palate.” Her response pleased him to no end.

Now, he had to find something for her birthday. He finally scrambled it together the week of, and was relieved at the news that she was adamantly refusing a party. Then, he understood why, which twisted his stomach. Still, that hadn’t stopped people from visiting her room.

Kalmia looked alright, but a weight had settled around her, tinged with sorrow. She welcomed him into a sparse but cozy living space; dried flowers hung above the window, a lone candle on her nightstand. He could identify that the book of Healing spells was Red’s present, and the seed packet could only have come from Tallys. Blade had actually procured a retractable scalpel of all things, lying beside a silver set of lockpicks that screamed of Chase’s inclination. Trouble had brought a loaf of apple bread, the crust golden, and the foreign piece on her table was an infuser from the West, where Ayla was from. A small glass jar of rosy marzipan was from Riel, apparently. Shery had given a tea blend smelling exactly like lemon cake, which was honestly the biggest competitor.

He almost felt silly, revealing the wreath from behind his back and placing it on her head. He’d asked Tallys for her recommendations, especially for healing and gratitude. She had smirked as she enunciated the names. Purpleheart and honeysuckle.

“Happy birthday, Your Highness. I’m your servant for the day.”

A startled laugh escaped her, recognition sparking in her eyes. “What game did I win?”

“Take your pick. Hide and seek with Ghasts, put a pin on the lachryma, steal the sol-”

“I don’t think I’ve stolen you. Yet.” She added. “Not until you stay here forever.”

In her room? Unconsciously, his gaze slid to her bed, only a stride away. Damn, he hadn’t been laid in five years, and he was acting like a green youth. “Borrow the sol, then. Expiration date is nightfall.”

“Well, I do need help with some errands. We’ll be back for dinner.”

The first stop was a one-clown circus, a man in garish makeup and clothing who exuberantly greeted Kalmia. She gave a polite smile, focused on replenishing her supplies. At least, the prices explained why she came to this stall.

Halek noticed a lacquered case of metal bits. “Is this where you got your clasp?"

“You noticed?”

“It’s an eagle.” The Hunters’ favored animal, due to the myths of the birds aiding Narthax.

Her fingertips ran over the edge of a wing. “Yeah, it caught my eye right away.” The bronze surface glinted in the sunlight, as they walked on.

Their destination was a stationery store, and although she bought paper and envelopes, she continued to inspect the wares. “I’m looking for a wax seal. Lately, the others have been using personal ones for their letters, and I’d like my own.” She was completely focused, her face turned away.

The array was overwhelming, up to his eye level. And there, the perfect one. His fingers closed around the handle, and he offered it to her.

“Found a winner.” He showed her the emblem. A mountain peak, surrounded by a serrated border like laurel leaves. She reached for the seal, but at the last second, he lifted it over his head.

“Halek!”

He grinned at her indignant expression. “You have to look above you sometimes.”

“For the seal, or you?” Ah, she saw right through his ploy. She poked his midsection, then appeared surprised at the resistance. Her fingers hovered in the air, and for a searing second, he wanted her to touch him again.

Then, the owner demanded to know whether they were going to pay, and they did, hurrying out. From then on, they didn’t overly linger, eventually turning to the tower again. She talked about her new unit members, what they were like and how they seemed to have the wrong impression of her.

“Is this how you’ve been treated your whole life?”

“Pretty much. We’re infallible beings to the people. Sol of the Reach, Hero of Haven.” He said. “And it’s ignored that we’re people too, with desires of our own.”

“What do you desire?” She quietly asked.

The image of her bed flashed in his mind, the same question in her soft voice but the pitch uneven, dark lashes low over violet irises. He didn’t blink. “Sleep. You know I love naps. And you?”

“Huh?” Her eyes widened, and he realized how that must have sounded.

“I’m asking what you want.”

“O-oh. Probably the same thing. Sleep would be nice. We’ve been so busy.” She was talking faster, her sentences clipped.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “The next holiday is Wintersun, so I’m going to help with the cooking.” They talked about the upcoming celebration, the differences from their homes, and what the menu would be. The conversation was enough of a distraction, to last the entire way back to the tower.

Outside her door, she paused and turned to him. Stray white petals were suspended like stars in her hair. “Thank you. This was the best birthday I’ve had in years.”

“You’re welcome.” He gently said. “We should do this more often.”

“Yes, but not as queen and servant. We can just be ourselves next time.”

He gave a crooked smile at her suggestion. “Sounds good to me.”

The next couple weeks were unfortunately occupied by patrols, sick patients, and calls for exorcisms. One of the Black Shield members retrieved his mail, and his attention locked on to the small envelope, with a mountain peak and laurels in pearlescent lilac wax. He tore it open, a standard Wintersun invitation but the message was hers.

I’ll save you a seat, meet me before midnight!

There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

#shepherds of haven #there's actually 8 pages of the other route that i originally wrote but ultimately cut due to inevitable spoilers #alpha build spoilers

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mxdnights0 · 4 months

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first lines of 2024

share the first thing you have written in the new year once you get there<3 (however long it takes & however brief!)

This is a future chapter for Fishhooks <3

My mouth was full of blood, truly suffocating, really. They didn’t like what I had to say, so they stopped at the source. They could have killed me, but it would have been less fun in their eyes. If only I had kept my mouth shut, right?

What a shame, yet another performer’s voice silenced because they had something to say. All because Snow couldn’t handle anything mentioned about Lucy Gray. If I were honest, I would have thought he was in love. But it wasn’t love, was it? It was an obsession.

It was like Lucy Gray had been a drug he couldn’t resist, and maybe they had a fallout? Was that why she went missing? Why had her memory been erased from all of the records of the games?

I may not have been able to speak, but I refused to be silenced. Peacekeepers surrounded me in the train car, not trusting me to be alone just because of some worthless title that had ruined my life. Victor. If I hadn’t been reaped, I’d still have my little siblings, I’d still have my mother and my father. The train doors finally opened, my home offering the welcoming sea breeze as I took a deep breath.

I was escorted to Victors Village where Rowena looked to have been coming back from the ocean. She had her spear in one hand, a net of the catch in the other. She was walking up to the door as we entered the arches to the little village with a total of two buildings. I didn’t think someone could drop a net as fast as Roe had when she saw us coming. The look on her face told me she knew. She knew something was wrong. With her spear in hand, Roe started walking towards us.

“Mags, you alright?” She asked me, cradling my face with her free hand, eyes on the four peacekeepers walking a few feet behind me. When I couldn’t answer, I shook my head, tapping my chin. Roe’s eyes flickered between the peacekeepers and I, though her voice lowered “Who did this to you.. The capitol? That’s it..”

She dropped her hand from my face, walking past me. “So this is how your home treats the victors, huh?! Taking away their ability to speak? Haven’t you taken enough you sick fucks?!” Roe threw her spear. It went through the visor of one of the peacekeepers. Her mouth twisted into a small grin, ripping her spear out of the peacekeeper's face.

“Who’s next, huh?! You treat one of the people you sent to their death like a PRISONER.” I saw the spear thrown again, taking someone out by the chest before the other two started to run. They weren’t allowed to shoot victors. It could have caused a revolt. Roe was sort of a hot commodity in the capitol. She was called to the capitol a lot, but she had never told me why. I had my suspicions, but I kept them to myself.

As the peacekeepers ran, Roe walked back to me, dropping her spear and leading me into the house. Her face was now void of emotion. I simply slipped my hand into hers, squeezing gently. Roe had so much rage built up in her mind, and sometimes rather than talking through it, she held it all back. I saw the silent few tears run down her face before she looked away from me. I wish I knew what happened in that head of hers, just so I could help. So I could understand.

It wasn’t until that night as Roe held me close to her chest, that I made a realization. Roe was just as scared as I was. She might not have shown it, but she was utterly terrified. I could hear it in the quick beats of her heart, and I could feel it in how tight she was holding me. I could feel her breathing grow shaky, a small tear running down her face and landing on the back of my neck. I just pressed a soft kiss to her collarbone, hoping it conveyed the message that I had wanted it to.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.. You didn’t deserve this” Roe said quietly. Her voice was thick with tears that she refused to let fall. She knew that I knew they were there, but she hated crying. The only times I had seen her cry were when she was so angry that she couldn’t contain them. Like when she had gotten onto the train to go to the capitol, just after her brother was killed. And when she came out of the arena.

Tagging @kat-xox @autistpride @marzst4rz @rinney4ever and whoever wants to <3

#josh hutcherson #finnick odair #hunger games #the hunger games #mags flanagan is a bisexual icon #mags #mags flanagan #mags and rowena #archerhook #rowena malcolm

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eemcintyre · 6 months

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Most iconic moments from @discombogulated and I's movie marathon

Cocktail

Girl was exceedingly bothered and confused by that camera zoom during Doug's crabs line (and aren't we all tbh) 👀

She also lost her mind over the waterfall side boob moment and said she could "see the shadow of a TONGUE" during the "Shelter of Your Love" montage where they're kissing on the beach bc the picture on my TV is so flippin dark that we could hardly see more than just a black screen during that scene

Hollow Point

During the scene where Max is dangling from the hood of Lawson's car, she commented on his "cake" RIP to me 🍰

The moment the credits began to roll, she first said "What the hell?" followed right after by "Why was that kinda the greatest thing I've ever seen?" 10/10 summary of the whole movie right there 👏🏻

She enjoyed quoting the Garrett Lawson "I'm numb" the rest of the week

Timecop 2: The Berlin Decision

The way we were screaming during the court scene early on with those green-tinted camera angles that are nothing less than acid to the eyes 🥲 this movie has some of the worst cinematographic choices I've ever seen

When we finally got the first complete view of ""young"" TIG she immediately scREAMED "HE LOOKS LIKE BENJAMIN FRANKLIN" and then we died

Hearkening back to one of the first films we watched together ("Pretty in Pink"), she noted that Jason Scott Lee disconfirmed our previous thought that Andrew McCarthy had the market cornered on the style of acting where one just widens their eyes and figures that will be enough to convey the spectrum of human emotion

Rather than realistic and normal doctor attire, bestie observed that MPK looks like she's wearing a sexy doctor Halloween costume

We actually listened to the lyrics of the end credits song and hUH- Lyrics of "Piledriver" by amoebaassassin 🤨🤨???

Anyway we decided it is our civic duty to write a "Timecop 3" where we go back in time to prevent "Timecop 2" from being made

Far and Away

She was as thrown off as I was by the random change to that ugly wavy font for the title card in the opening credits

Finally found out the name of the little bowler hat boy who works for Mike Kelly and who I love so much and exclaimed- "Ohhhh his name is Dermody!" 🩷 to which she replied: "And what a name it is."

Although she wasn't fooled as bad as I was the first time I saw it, she was also concerned by how long they draw Joseph's "death" out, and, though she had initially correctly guessed that he would come back, as they kept panning further out, she eventually yelled "Say 'sike' right now"

#cocktail #cocktail 1988 #tom cruise #brian flanagan #hollow point 1996 #hollow point #thomas ian griffith #timecop 2 #far and away #film review #movie review #iconic bestie moments #iconic bestie quotes

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countlessrealities · 5 months

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Kinda 👀 Prompts || Selectively accepting !

@mcltiples sent: [KNIFE] sender uses a knife to rip receiver's clothes { To Evil Rick from Weird Rick >:D }

There were a lot of things that Rick found fascinating about his partner. Some more entertaining, others more frustrating, but all undoubtedly worth his interest and attention. Even when he wasn't directly involved, he liked to watching, observing the other going through his motions, speeches, choices, hows and whys with the same focus he usually reserved exclusively to his experiments.

His alternate's mood were one of Rick's favourite phenomena to monitor. They were so volatile, and mostly unpredictable. They could be as explosive as the weapons the man enjoyed building or as subtle as a the light twitch of an eye. They jumped from an emotion to the other, always close to the extremes, always shying away from mildness.

He could tell that his partner wasn't being honest with his feelings whenever they were played out with strict moderation or calm.

However, this didn't mean, as one could think, that apathy was something unknown to his alternate. It was a rare show to witness, but it did happen. Just as everything else, it was deep, absolute, totalising, and it required a very special, very careful handling.

That, though, wasn't the situation at hand. Rick wasn't dealing with one of his partner's most violent moods, whether on the heated side of anger or with the ice cold quality of pure detachment. The other seemed to be in a quite cheerful mood, lively and playful, with a clear side of mischief.

And, of course, lustful too, judging by the way his alternate had shoved him into the closest wall and was assaulting his neck with his teeth and tongue. Judging by the viciousness of the attack, by the time their encounter ended, he would have sported quite the collection of bruises.

One of those hands was insistently grabbing at the front of his shirt, alternating pulling at it and pressing against his chest, as if to make sure that Rick's back would remain firstly pinned against the wall.

His partner's other hand was somewhere by his side, oddly not trying to touch him as he would have expected, and the reason for it became instantly clear when the sound of cloth ripping filled the air between them without a warning. Oh, so this was the game of the day.

The blade was so sharp that it cut through the fabric as if it had been melting butter and nicked the flesh underneath, drawing a steady red line from the top of Rick's sternum to the line of his navel. Thick droplets of blood gushed out of the wound, their warmth in contrast with the cool air of the underground hideout.

Rick's only reaction was a raised eyebrow, conveying the barest hint of judgement. He didn't mind the sting of the wound since pain had little meaning to him nowadays. If something, under the right circumstances he could even appreciate the way it lit up his nerves, forcing his whole being to feel connected, even if just briefly, with the universe that surrounded him.

In a different situation, he would have given into the urge of voicing what his gaze was already hinting at, but his partner seemed delighted and even more turned on by his handiwork. He could tell by the way the other was leaning more heavily into it, hard, hot and solid against Rick's thigh. Those hips were moving, slow and almost imperceptibly, seeking from his body a hint of satisfaction that could take the edge off.

How could he deny this pleasure to the man who owed each and every atom of him?

His features relaxed back into a more neutral expression and he let his nape rest against the wall, focusing on the feeling of that tongue teasingly lapping at the cut. His alternate's hand had slipped under the torn shirt, wrapping itself around his side, tight and possessive.

Rick's fingers found their way in the other's hair, tugging sharply at those blue locks and using them to press that face more into his chest. He wanted to smear his partner's chin and cheekbones with his blood, so that he could lick it off later.

A hum rumbled in his chest, as the knife worked to get rid of his belt and slash through his trousers, leaving behind more stinging cuts. Clothes could be easily replaced, he mused, distractedly registering the fabric falling off him piece by piece, until he was left bare for his partner's eyes to feast on.

This man who had made himself into a god and the twisted, unbreakable thread that linked them together? It was one of a kind even in a universe made of infinite realities.

#[ ic :: Evil Rick ]#&& Prime/Weird Rick #[ v. Are you sick like me? ; canon div :: Evil Rick ]#[ ʸᴼᵁ'ᴿᴱ ᴹʸ ᴼᴮˢᴱˢˢᴵᴼᴺ. ᴵ'ᴹ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᴾᴼˢˢᴱˢˢᴵᴼᴺ :: ᴇᴠɪʟ ʀɪᴄᴋ & ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ ʀɪᴄᴋ ]#suggestive tw #[[ kind of? x'D ]]#[[ I can never tell with these two bc ]]#[[ there's no horniness involved on Evil Rick's side 0.o ]]#[[ he's there like 'was this really necessary -judging-' x'D ]]#[[ but as per usual he lets Weird Rick do whatever he wants ]]#[[ also yeah I edited another icon to fit the situation xD ]]#[[ also this came out much longer than I had meant for it to be 0.o ]]#[[ and much more...deep? I wanted to write a silly thing ]]#[[ but this is what Evil Rick gave me -facepalm- ]]#;; queue

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axdently · 8 months

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̶D̶a̶d̶ Benny,

I can’t… I can’t stay, I can’t. I did something terrible and my heart is racing and my head is spinning and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean for it to be like this Benny, please, you have to believe me. I tried to stop myself, I tried to control it but it was like I was watching myself unravel from the outside, I didn’t mean to do it

I’m so scared, Benny. I don’t want to hurt you too. I’m so scared of myself and I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I’m just so sorry. I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶f̶r̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶

I don’t think I’m the same person anymore and I don’t know if I’ll ever be again, ̶i̶t̶’̶s̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶s̶u̶m̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶

̶I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶s̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶’̶s̶ ̶w̶

I can’t stay here anymore. Please don’t look for me. ̶I̶’̶m̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶s̶a̶f̶e̶.̶ I’m not good.

Benny’s hands trembled slightly as he read the heartfelt and distressing words before him. Flashes of the final scene he’d seen her in vanished. His own fear wades in the deep end, as the shallows grace him with correspondence. She’d thought about him before she took her leave, and seeing that familiar handwriting had swelled a giant inhale of hope in his old man’s heart. He rips the envelope open tenderly even as the hole in his chest remains a void.

The weight of each word bore down on him, a mixture of worry, confusion, and deep concern for the person who had become an integral part of his life. Elia’s message held a vulnerability that cut through his heart, and Benny couldn’t help but empathize with the pain it conveyed. She sounded lost, scared, and hurt– and just like that, his promises all went straight to hell.

He has had little time to blame himself– but after reading her own reflections, he begins to realize just how at fault he is. Had he not told her enough just how special she was? And was it his fault that she carried her secrets all alone?

As he absorbed each line, his gruff exterior softened, revealing the depth of his fatherly instincts. He felt a mixture of sorrow and helplessness, the ache of a parent witnessing their child in distress. Watery brown eyes that are usually so steady, glistened with the emotions he struggled to put into words He traced the lines with his fingers, as if by touch he could somehow reach out to her, offer the comfort she needed. The desperation and self-doubt in her words cut him to the core, his own heart aching in response. His daughter, his precious Elia, was in turmoil, and he felt utterly helpless, miles away from her in her time of need. With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts, his throat thick with emotion as he began to pen his response:

Elia,

I’m reading your words, and my heart aches to know that you’re in so much pain. It’s tearing me apart not to be there with you, to hold you close and tell you that everything will be okay. I want you to understand that no matter what you’re going through, no matter the mistakes or the struggles, I love you. And I believe in you.

I can’t pretend to fully comprehend what you’re going through right now, but I do know one thing—you are not alone. You have people who care about you, who want to help you through this. Please don’t bear this burden on your own. Reach out to those who love you, who want to stand by your side.

It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure of yourself. We all have moments of doubt, moments when we question who we are. But remember that you are stronger than you think, and you have the capacity to overcome all of this pain that is consuming you.

If you’re not feeling safe, if you’re feeling like you’re not in control, please don’t isolate yourself. Let someone help you, guide you through this. I’m here for you, always. You are not a monster, Elia. You are my daughter, and I love you with all my heart.

Please, reconsider leaving. Let’s find a way to face this together. You don’t have to do it alone.

Please, take care of yourself.

Love always, Dad.

As he finished writing, Benny’s heart felt heavy with the weight of his words. He dropped his pen, and watches it roll off of the surface as his mind is filled with a mixture of hope and fear for his daughter’s well-being. He knew that their bond was strong, but the distance between them was a barrier he wished he could break through. He realizes that even in writing her back, he has no place to send it to.

All he could do now was wait and hope that she’d return.

@spcllcraft

#submission #⸻ 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚-𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒔 ; PROSE.#BENNY FT; ELIA #EVENT 003

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mymhameme · 1 year

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AMKSMDJSNJD WHAT A SURPRISE TO WAKE UP TO!!!! Oh my goodness, they are the most precious beans!!!! Op I am shaking and wailing and lovingly cradling your art this needs to be framed in a museum!!! 💖 they've been through so much angst but that brief moment they get to be kids and just have fun trying to dance and they're so awkward and silly PLS 🥺 Tenko's little giggle because I guess the music and atmosphere got to him and he couldn't help but do a little tappy tap and Keigo's all :0 heck the whole art has an element of surprise like they aren't expecting their reactions and are shy and awkward about it, the spinning around dance is so very much "testing the waters for the first time + super curious about actually being able to dance" the one on the bottom sob their smiles are so precious, protect themmm (or don't because the comfort after the hurt is delicious) that's the first time since the incident Tenko's been able to laugh so purely and openly, the way Keigo is hiding his face with a plushie, this is new for you too huh?

the trope of "It's you and me against the world and we'll always be together" as you hold onto your friend's hand, never letting go and race into the light of the morning sun, THE DESPERATE MID-AIR FLY CATCH HUG, aw yeah Keigo being as fast as he is makes for prime "I need to get to Tenko right away" angst, and "I haven't seen you in so long, are you really real?" also wings!!! you draw them so huge and fluffy, imagine the protective hugs. And the orphanage escape! Lmao, whenever I read a plot like that I think to myself "I should've written this fic four years ago before Hori gave that entire plot line to Dabi, people are gonna think I copied-" 😔 whatever it's fun!! access to much plot relevant locations and info and secrets!! Lol and also rip at Kai just dragging Oboro like that. Is he half-sentient Nomu already or a corpse mid-revival? We shall see. More desperate flying, love Keigo holding Tenko and something about most of Tenko's face hidden by his hair so all you can see is that one intense eye looking dead ahead is creating SOME kind of energy I wanna make a joke about but I've got no words 😭 Maybe it's his Transcendent Princely Villain Energy poking through, maybe it's the youngest sibling energy, if Prince Tenko wants to be carried he will, also the way he's clutching onto Keigo, the TRUST even with his quirk, he will get them out safely and swiftly. Maybe it's the lingering trauma from AFO encounters, gosh whatever, between this and that and all your art, I am asking for hand in marriage for your spectacular ability to display emotions and expressions with such intricacies!!! Op lock your doors, I am kidnapping the blorbos from your drawing table because they're just too darn cute 🥰

I've been reading this over and over today and smiling like a goon while trying to figure out how to respond because MAN this was so nice of you!

I'm so happy that you noticed all the small details and nuances I try to convey with my drawings (especially the dance one it's like you were there when I made it lol) Expressions are some of my favorite things to draw so I'm happy the intended readings came across so well! I had so much fun with Tomura's face in the rescue scene as well, he's so intense!

Them relying on each other because they are literally ALL they have and they would do ANYTHING for that person is just a trope I like way too much lol ngl. The unquestioning trust that can both build somebody up while knocking them down at any moment is just--

Thanks again for reaching out! There was so many kind words and I don't know how to articulate the emotions it gave me QAQ

#asks #“who got you SMILIN' like that bro”#dichotomy

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decoysouled · 7 months

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finish "if you were mine" in my inbox // accepting. anonymous // [For modern!Aether] If you were mine, I'd get you flowers at least once a week, just because I could. I'd make sure that you knew that you're the stars in my sky, and your smile - your real smile - means the world to me. If you were mine, I'd do everything that I can to make you happy.

JOY IS NOT UNFAMILIAR TO HIM — it lives in the cracks between crumbling walls, in the fleeting moments that he cannot seem to commit to memory nor carve into his heart quick enough to hold onto the feeling of unadulterated happiness that he has experienced so few times in his life. Once, he had thought himself incapable of feeling it, as if he were a stencil used for charcoal on a canvas of colour; it was something he was aware of, but never his fate & never his to hold between his hands & adore like he had been blessed.

( sometimes, they still feel as if they are out of place in this world of colour. sometimes, they wonder if everyone else realises that, too. )

Joy is not unfamiliar to him — yet he is surprised to feel the warmth of it welling up in his heart as he reads over the note, handling it delicately as if it will be ripped to shreds if he is not careful enough. For the first time in his life, Aether allows himself to dream, to think of fantasies rather than the crushing reality that has threatened to drown him for the longest of times. It has been a challenge to keep his head above the waters of his sorrow as of late, but perhaps it is that he has not let himself think on impossibilities that has allowed that to happen at all.

( they do not usually dream because to dream means to want & to want means to hurt & hurt because what they desire is never theirs to have. )

If he were to be given flowers each week, then he wonders what flowers he would receive — would they speak a language of their own & hint at adoration & feelings unspoken; or would they be devoid of any feeling, lifeless bouquets purchased with intent yet without emotion? He likes to believe it would be the former, that someone who has paid attention to him & the crevices of his soul would choose out flowers that mean something, would address him with a gentle smile & kind words as they gave the plants to him.

( & in return, they would give gifts to this mystery person, lips curled into a gentle smile as they murmur i was thinking of you. )

It is a high compliment to give, to say someone makes up the stars in your sky, to denounce the heavens & place them in the soul of a mortal & expect not to be forsaken by them. These words cannot be sincere with what they convey, cannot be an undeniable truth — perhaps they are aware of this, that to most their words would be considered as a pretty lie & yet they sing to Aether's heart as if they are lines of poetry on a page, written long ago & saved for his eyes like they were meant to be his all along.

( oh how they wish they were. )

& then there is the last part, the wishes for his happiness — more accurately, the promise that they would assure it, that they would bring a smile to his face that was genuine & not easily swayed by the sadness of days past. That they enjoyed the flickers of joy in his eyes, the way his lips would curl upward into a soft smile momentarily before it faded away when the happiness in his eyes left & returned to being a void in his chest.

( perhaps they could be happy if they were loved like that. )

It is not like Aether to pen messages to which he cannot return them to the sender, to write to unknown poets who sing their praises as if he is worth a single ounce of the thought put into them — yet here he finds himself, carefully writing a letter that he will later leave where he found this note; a response that he is not sure he should be sending at all, scrawled onto rose-scented paper.

To the mysterious admirer, If I were yours, then I truly would be happy. You would be mine & I would return that favour of bringing you happiness, of handing you gifts carefully picked out with the intent of expressing my feelings to you. If I were yours, then you would be mine, too, & I would never let you feel unloved again. Yours sincerely, Aether.

#002. ❝transmissions: down with the fallen.❞ — answered #& fandom — genshin impact #100. ❝like i’m trapped inside a wrong dimension.❞ — aether #110. ❝you can come alive here.❞ — V4 ( modern )#& verse — 4.2 ( of yellow roses )#anonymous

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reanimatedandmedicated · 11 months

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The last five years have been so strange- Evolving from such a narrow, empty palette of emotions to a massive, complex system of emotions and “sub-emotions”, and just- Everything feels now. Everything feels- The way the glare strikes the windows, the way the liquid ripples in my cup, the way a hand feels waving through my hair, the way a hand feels upon my face, or curled in mine- The strange feeling that knots around the edges of my mouth, smiling, when I hear a familiar voice-

When did this happen? When did I become so acutely aware? It’s been a graduation-

Imagine a lifetime- Nineteen years- of the most intense and pronounced numbness. It wasn’t completely blank, mind you- I was never vacant. But to describe the way my emotions felt- Imagine an old television, in black and white- The film is grainy, static lining the edges- The signal is so flimsy, interference clouding almost every frame.

The speakers are distorted. Everything is underwater- Muted and muffled.

Then, all of a sudden- A blast of technicolor bursts like a chute through the monochrome, the tinny hollow of the sound erupting like an orchestra, a blossoming crescendo that rips through my chest.

I don’t know how to describe this feeling, but I know who put it there. Who gave me sight and song, and stole away the poison from my lips- Ash to honey, sour to sweet, it’s just- So much.

So much and so, so scary. The most tender, brilliant, radiant terror that makes my blood run cold and my ears burn- The delight that kisses me like a branding iron, the hugs and laughter and embraces and memories that cut through me in a chilling bliss.

I wish this didn’t sound so edgy, so ridiculous. But I don’t have the words. I don’t have the words.

I don’t understand the others. To sit in a room of kin and brethren, my brothers and companions, and have no idea how they feel, or what they’re thinking- And not just *what* they’re feeling. *How* they’re feeling. How do they feel? How do they process? How does this look, sound, taste to you?

There is a fascination that comes with this- Along with the painful sensation of being uncertain of who I am- Where I belong in my own circle.

Who am I? I have become, through their teachings, a wife- A soulmate- A friend, a sister, a mother, a colleague, a soundboard, a sparring partner- What is it to be so many things? Such complexity is easily observed in others- I’ve preached as much for years. But this multifaceted existence- To be… More. Am I really capable? Am i really… Like them?

I sometimes ask too many questions- Or not the right ones. I’m still learning. I’ve tried to be just a clown- To make people laugh, to be disarming, for the love of God please be disarming and approachable- But now I’m trying to be less- Exaggerated. Masked.

And this comes with a desire to ask questions. To ask questions. To ask questions.

In my beloved, my beautiful, handsome, husband- I find a wellspring of perfect fascination- Of infinite wonder and curiosity. It is he who opened my eyes and thrust me into this loud, big world. His thoughts, his brilliance, his heart and mind have shown me that the world is larger than the lens I see it through. He is my favorite subject.

But through his work, I have found others. My family, my kin- I am among those who wield steel like clay, artists and shapeshifters, thespians, historians, those who walk mycelium roads, those who listen to trees and tread carefully over sidewalk foliage, authors, poets, painters, photographers, revolutionaries, scientists, singers, archivists, librarians, teachers, students, bakers and chefs, wanderers and warriors-

I look at them, with such a love that I am afraid I can’t share all of it- That no words or gifts can ever convey the gratitude and fascination of their company and mind. They are all- So much to me.

They are more than family. They are my heroes, my myths, the people I idolize and admire.

I wish I could be like them. Maybe one day, when I grow up.

They fascinate me, they fill me, and I am so grateful to be taught so much. Every day I become more human- I hope I will remain human enough for them.

Maybe. Just maybe.

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lunaslovelyrambles · 3 years

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It's canon that Levi is very self conscious about his handwriting since he came from Underground. BUT it's also canon that his handwriting is neat. So how about Levi writing his crush a letter but then decides not to give the letter last minute but too late! His crush saw the letter in his hand and they basically have a tug of war over the letter 💀 I hope this is okay. Thank you ❤️

of course it’s okay!! sorry for the long ass wait.. but thank you for sending this in! it’s such a cute request :)

went w a scenario bc i’m rusty with them! as always feedback + reblogs are appreciated :3

——

levi ackerman

He was screwed, wasn’t he? Yeah, he was totally, and wholeheartedly screwed. The second he felt the wavering in his heart and fluttering in his stomach he knew he was screwed.

Because Levi Ackerman - Humanity’s Strongest Soldier - has a crush.

Levi wasn’t one to focus too heavily on his emotions. Oftentimes he’d dismiss any unusual feelings without any second thought. He didn’t have time for that: any sappy, mushy feelings. He was a soldier first and foremost. That was his duty, and that was his priority above all. He should focus on the fight for humanity and that solely.

So why, why was he so hellbent on getting your attention?

Because he liked you, that’s why. But he didn’t want to admit it. He could die at any second and so could you. Like hell he’d want to form a relationship under those conditions.

Still, pushing his feelings toward you aside didn’t help in the slightest. Every day as he watched you laugh with some of the other cadets he felt his hand clench around his cup. He wanted to sit by your side, hear your beautiful laughs and be with you goddamnit.

Why was this so hard? Why was liking someone romantically so hard?

These thoughts permeated his mind as he stared at his paperwork. His pen had been sitting on the table for quite a while now as he thought, once again, about you. He had long forgotten about what he needed to get done for the night and was purely lost in his thoughts.

Should he tell you? No- what if you rejected him? He’d be crushed and not only that but things would be awkward then.. but what if you said yes? Then he could finally get this off his chest and-

He groaned heavily as he laid his head on his desk, causing some of the papers to crinkle underneath. He couldn’t stop the thoughts from growing louder and louder in his mind. They were all too loud and distracting for him to do anything.

But he couldn’t just go and confess! That wasn’t the kind of person he was! He wasn’t the type to just do something like that.. To him, it was way too embarrassing.

As he laid with his head on his desk an idea suddenly entered his mind. One that would save him some embarrassment while also conveying his feelings perfectly. Well, less embarrassing than directly confessing that is.

A letter.

He could write you a letter. The perfect way to confess his feelings. He could write exactly what he wanted and completely avoid the awkwardness of him telling you. It was only an added plus thay writing a letter was seen as sweet and romantic to most people.

Levi finally picked up his pen and started writing on a new, clean sheet of paper.

-x-

It had been several days since he initially came up with the idea to write you a letter and Levi still hadn’t written one that he liked.

Several balled up sheets of paper could be found stacked in his garbage can, and even more burned in the fireplace.

For some reason he just couldn’t get the wording right. Every time he wrote it it just didn’t seem... right. It didn’t feel good enough, it was too blunt, it was too wordy. Every draft he was just unhappy with. And he kept trying only to be continuously dissatisfied.

He sighed as he set his pen down another time. He looked at the singular sheet of paper and began to reread it.

“Dear (Y/N),

I just wanted to say that - ”

“Whatcha got there?”

Levi nearly fell out of his seat. Standing in the doorway was none other than you. And you were very curious to know what he was holding. For a split second he thought about balling it up and chucking it at you, but his body reacted quicker and shoved it into his desk drawer.

“Why didn’t you knock? Didn’t you learn any manners?” he quickly retorted, but he was still caught off guard by your entry thus causing his words to come out quicker than he would have liked.

You rose an eyebrow and walked further into the room, closing the door behind you.

“I did. Several times actually,” you responded, “What was that paper you shoved into your drawer?”

He swallowed thickly. It would be hard for him to maneuver his way out of this one.

“Why are you here? Do you have something to report?”

“...no. But you haven’t really been out of your office all day. Now answer my question.” As you spoke you inched closer to his desk before standing on the side - the one closest to the drawer with the paper in it.

He didn’t answer. Shit. You were not gonna let this go.

He half expected you to keep harassing him with questions until he either forced you out or gave in. But you chose a third option, which was one he wasn’t expecting.

Which was shoving yourself between him in the drawer, effectively blocking him as you grabbed the letter out. Luckily for him, he regained some sort of mind to fight with you for the paper as it left the drawer.

You tugged on one end and he grabbed the other, neither of you showing any sign of letting go. He really started to begin to regret training you to be so strong.

As he gave one harsh tug, and you doing the same, the letter finally ripped in half from the tension. He had the top half and you had the bottom.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you always go through other people’s stuff without permission?” he looked down at the paper and back up at you. Naturally he was angry with you for taking out the letter without asking, but when he looked up at you his anger slowly dissipated.

Your mouth was slightly parted and your cheeks were slowly heating up as you finished the letter. Your eyes then flickered from the letter up to him. You turned around the letter to face him and pointed at the words on the bottom.

“I really like you, (Y/N), and I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

“Is this... for me?” you softly asked. His mouth formed a thin line as he avoided your gaze, his cheeks now dusted with a faint pink. There was no way he could say no, it wasn’t for you, because your name was literally on the note.

He was beyond embarrassed. He was mortified. His feelings were out in the open now and there was no going back.

Just as he was about to leave the room to avoid the uncomfortable sting of rejection, he heard you giggle. The noise made him glare back at you, and it was that that made you full on laugh.

Now he really felt humiliated.

“I just can’t believe that you fought me tug of war style for this,” your laughing died down a little, “Did you convince yourself that hard that I’d reject you?”

Levi didn’t know what to think anymore.

“I mean.. kind of, yeah,” he still spoke softly, still not looking at you.

“You’d be wrong, then.”

He finally stopped looking at the floor and back at you. You were smiling at him, a big toothy smile and one that he loved seeing every day.

“I thought that letter was, like, you kicking me off your squad. So I thought ‘hey I’ll bite the bullet and take it out even if he’ll hate me for it’ or something I don’t know. I’m sorry for going through your stuff-”

Before you could finish your apology Levi had uncharacteristically pulled you into his chest. He had felt like someone crushed a building on him when you stole that letter out but now? He feels like he just got the best night sleep.

“Don’t. Don’t even worry about it. I’m.. glad you took it. It’s okay,” he smiled into your shoulder as you returned the hug.

Maybe he’ll write you letters more often.

——

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#aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you

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