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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

Rowaelin Month - Day 9

prompt: co-hosts with chemistry

extras: podcaster!rowaelin, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff!

word count: 2k

The podcast had originally been Lysandra’s idea.

She had deemed their regular conversations dissecting each of their dating lives too entertaining to keep to themselves and so it had begun. It hadn’t been very successful and they had only managed to wrangle a small number of subscribers, mostly consisting of their friends and reluctant family members. They’d had fun, but when Lysandra moved to the Southern Continent they hadn’t bothered to keep it up.

Then Aelin got drunk with Fenrys and his new roommate Rowan.

Her drunken self had thought it a fabulous idea to whip out her phone and hit record when Fenrys had begun to weave his story of the beautiful Asterin and her ruthless rejection, Rowan chipping in with quips that always made her cheeks feel a little warmer. That and the sparkle in his green eyes each time he looked at her.

She’d been intrigued by Rowan on day one. He was everything Aelin felt herself drawn to in one big package. Tall, handsome, tattoos, wicked sense of humour, didn’t take any shit, constantly gave her shit. She was charmed.

Until the podcast had taken off.

The inebriated episode featuring Fenrys and Rowan had landed her with a few thousand subscribers. And she had wanted to continue.

Fenrys had rejected her outright, claiming he didn’t need any more public humiliation, the Asterin story had been enough and she understood, but Rowan…

She’s not sure why she even asked Rowan. They weren’t friends, the episode they’d recorded had been the first night they met and they hadn’t spoken since but she’d laid the offer on the table anyway. Despite the fact that hearing all about Rowan Whitethorn’s dating exploits made her stomach twist.

What she knew of Rowan had told her he’d say no too. He hadn’t given her the impression of being particularly easy going, or that spending time with her in the absence of Fenrys would have been something he would consider. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d thought her desire to chat about something as frivolous as dating would be somewhat shallow or childish.

But then he’d said yes.

And so began their tradition. Every Thursday after his final class of the day and Aelin gets home from her office, she uncorks a bottle of wine and makes dinner. Rowan turns up at eight pm sharp each week, armed with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake and his lilting and charming accent. They set themselves up at the desk in Aelin’s spare bedroom, each with a set of headphones and a microphone and they talk.

That started eight months ago.

Now they have hundreds of thousands of listeners, people who for some unknown reason like to listen to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin doesn’t get it, but here they are.

Aelin tucks her feet under her thighs and rests the arm holding her wine glass along the back of the sofa. They’ve just finished this week’s episode and she’s not ready for Rowan to leave just yet. He turns to her at the motion, a brow cocked in questioning. He looks good, very good.

The light from her TV highlights the cut of his jaw and plays off the silver strands of his hair, flopping onto his forehead. The green of his henley perfectly displays his golden skin and she’s desperately searching for glances of the swirls of ink that peek out of his neckline each time he shifts.

She thought that by spending more time with him her crush would fade. Except now she definitely has a thing for someone who has turned into one of her best friends.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, so aware by now of her moods. He knows when to wait and when to push her, when to joke and when to keep it real.

Aelin shrugs and the motion dislodges her neckline from her shoulder to part way down her arm. Rowan’s eyes dart down tracking the motion but flash back to hers once she speaks.

“I’m thinking about where we go next,” she says slowly. “I don’t know about you but I’m not dating very much recently and I wonder if I’m running out of funny dating stories.”

Rowan’s lips twitch and she uses the time before he speaks to desperately wonder what’s going on in his head. Then he moves his hand to her knee, his touch a comfort and a thrill, and her mind can only focus on that. Can only focus on how good it feels for him to touch her. She doesn’t have the capacity to worry where his head is at when his hands are on her.

“It’s not just you,” he says, on the same wavelength as her as always. “I don’t find myself on many dates anymore.”

He says it without even a whisper of shame, like he’s confident in why that is.

“I can’t tell if I’m thinking too much about the podcast,” she admits, “or if I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

He’s silent, which she usually uses as her prompt to continue, but his hand stays on her knee.

“I have an idea,” she says, shocked again as his eyes meet hers. “It won’t last forever, but I think it could give us a few episodes at least. We turn to other people. We get listeners to share their experiences, their horror stories, their life lessons, their advice, their failures. We give our comments, we compare them, we’re funny. I think it could work.”

She’s so nervous for his thoughts, his opinions matter to her, she wants his approval.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he says as a soft smile creeps onto his lips, tugging up his cheek and she wants to press her lips right there. “We can get people to submit their best stories, review them, add our own additions and commentary and we’re good for a while.”

He pauses, as though there’s more he wants to say. His hand on her knee squeezes and she craves more of his touch, wants his hand to slide higher, wants his fingers to entwine with hers.

Then he says, “I have an idea for an episode.”

She cocks her brow but he shakes his head.

“I need to think it through some more but I’ll let you know as soon as I have a more solid idea.”

It works and she’s relieved her lack of desire to date anyone who isn’t six foot four, silver haired and named Rowan Whitethorn hasn’t needed any expansion and hasn’t so far caused any major problems. Apart from the fact she finds herself getting lost when he talks, unable to respond right away because she’s too busy staring at his lips, his hands, his everything as he speaks.

She’s sure he’s probably noticed but he kindly hasn’t commented.

The idea to get content from their listeners leads her down a path she’s somewhat shocked to realise exists. She’s been trawling twitter to find their content and interacting with a lot more of their listeners and it’s led her to a small corner of twitter dedicated to her and Rowan.

She scrolls and scrolls through tweets that are convinced she and Rowan are either married, fucking or in love. Or if not yet already, they need to be. Aelin doesn’t disagree necessarily, but it’s weird to know people are thinking that, let alone tweeting it.

@/crochanqueen: Aelin’s laugh every time Rowan says something slightly amusing…. girl you’ve got it bad. He’s not that funny.

Gods, she hopes Rowan hasn’t seen these tweets. She needs to watch when she laughs.

“Next submission,” Rowan says, leaning forwards and speaking into his mic. He’s in his usual chair across from her and she has almost unlimited access to the sight of him in all his glory. No wonder it’s hard to concentrate when they record. “This guy says hi, I’ve got it bad for my best friend.”

Aelin swallows. She definitely needs to watch herself for this one.

“A tale as old as time,” she says with a breezy laugh.

“Right,” Rowan says, a tightness to his voice that wasn’t there before, before he turns back to his phone to continue reading. “We’ve known each other for a while now and we spend a lot of time together just the two of us and it’s as easy as breathing. We get along incredibly well, she makes me laugh and she makes me smile. She brightens my day.”

“Gods, this is so sweet,” she coos and Rowan gives her a tight smile. Okay, she’ll let him finish.

“She’s my best friend,” Rowan continues and Aelin bites her lip. “I want more but I don’t want to ruin what we have if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Hm,” she says, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. She has to manage this one carefully, so as not to give too much away. “Is there any indication of whether she feels the same way?”

Rowan glances back to his phone. “He says; there are moments where I think she feels the same, there are moments where I think I could press my lips to hers and she’d kiss me back. There are moments she looks at me and it looks as though it would be impossible for her not to feel the way I do.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl,” Aelin says almost wistfully.

“You think?” Rowan asks, and she’s not sure his question makes sense.

“Don’t you?” she asks. “If they have these moments, moments where he could kiss her and she’d kiss him back, the moments where they get lost in each other's eyes, I don’t think those things can be made up.”

She ignores the way she always feels as though she catches herself in these moments with Rowan. She ignores them and plows straight on through.

“If he’s having these thoughts enough that they feel like a moment, they probably are.”

“Damn, Aelin.” Rowan smiles across the table. “Any advice for the poor guy?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” she says smoothly, “he has to tell her how he feels. Don’t waste any more time, if you’re reading her this way and she’s your best friend I think there’s very little chance you’ve got this wrong. If you’re listening to this,” she says leaning forwards so her voice is clear in the recording, “get the girl. Take a chance, tell her how you feel. Start small, ask her to go on a date.”

Rowan nods, the movement a sharp jerk but a smile plays on his lips. He looks up to her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Alright, Aelin. Go out with me. A date.”

She laughs, a bright sound, not allowing herself to jump to conclusions. “Is that what it says?”

His eyes flick back to his phone before he locks it and slides it onto the table. “It doesn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s very confused now. Is he playing with her? Has he noticed the way she feels? Surely Rowan isn’t so cruel to mock her like this.

“There’s no submission, it’s me, it’s you. Go out with me Aelin?”

Her mouth drops open.

“Go out with you? You like me?”

She’s stunned okay? Cut her a little slack.

He laughs, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “This was quite possibly not my best idea,” he says. “To go about it like this. I thought it would have worked well.”

“You’re serious?” she says, a smile creeping into her voice.

“As a heart attack.”

She pulls her headset off, needing to feel this moment just the two of them. Rowan does the same, vulnerability shining in his gorgeous, green eyes.

“Rowan,” she breathes. “I’ve been into you since day one. I thought there was no way you were interested in me.”

She stands, rising from her chair and almost floating over to him until she stands between his legs. She gently rests a hand on his shoulder as she leans down. His hands come up to her waist and pull her onto his lap.

She settles with a smile as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“I’ll edit this out tomorrow,” is all she says before she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his, sealing it with a kiss.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #i hated this at first lol #finally think i saved it #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic

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jojotichakorn · 2 years

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First off, my apologies for being late to the Anon Roundtable . Let's just say i was too ohmerwhelmed to interact yesterday.

Now let's get to business. Even tho most of the things i hoped for didn't happen, im still quite satisfied with the episode. Atleast i was right about the getting caught part . I really hoped to see Wai only as a protective friend but this episode has really established his role in everything now . Such a shit head tho . Makes me want to poke him in the eye.

Anyway, I don't want to talk about the angst that happened in the episode. BUT let's talk about some things i noticed in the preview.

First from the preview, I don't think they are going to break up just yet. Especially since Pat said smth like , '' I can say we broke up. I can do it for you" Even if Pran might have been thinking of Breaking up , after hearing Pat say that , I don't think he will ask Pat to do so . ( My heart just evaporated right out of my chest when i heard Pat say that btw)

Second, Pa 's conflict is not bcz it's Pran and Pat but more bcz it's 'two boys dating' . I think she says that to Ink bcz she really isn't used to the idea of same sex relationships. Now one more thing that has me convinced about this is how we still don't know about Pa's feelings towards Ink . Notice how we get close ups of Ink looking at Pa with loving eyes(specially the restaurant scene) but we haven't really gotten the same look from Pa yet . Pa looks at Ink more in an admiring kind of way . There's a noticable difference between both of their expressions. So i think Pa is oblivious to her feelings for Ink . How this connects to her opinion on PatPran is that , by talking to Ink about this she's gonna become aware of some things. I really do believe this whole confrontation about PatPran between her and Ink is going to advance their relationship too . By looking at PatPran and Ink's opinion on them, she might start questioning her relationship with Ink too . She might finally become aware of her feelings . And we get our long awaited InkPa in HD .

That's all for now.

Also, is it weird that i am not too worried about the next episode? It's mostly bcz of the cute scenes we are gonna be fed . One thing this episode has made me realize is that as long as these idiots don't break up, im not scared of the angst .

My head is still a mess from all the emotions . Idk if i was able to express my thoughts properly so Please excuse my incoherence there .

Unreliable Anon

i don't think they are going to break up either (and i am putting that "just yet" away, because i still believe they might never break up at all, because it's unnecessary and an overused trope). also, i instantly read what pat said as him suggesting they lie. tell everyone they broke up and be five thousand times more careful from that point on. because it's "i can SAY we broke up" - not "let's break up" or "we can break up".

i do think your theory about pa could be correct, and it makes sense with what she says. also narratively, this is the easiest way to push a secondary couple's relationship further (because the main couple is still involved and it's a big enough thing to be a believable push).

as for being worried - you do you, boo! honestly, good for you!! i'm super worried about the way they will handle wai outing the boys - that's a singular but incredibly anxiety-inducing worry of mine for the next episode.

#ur very coherent don't worry!! everything is perfectly understandable #bad buddy #archer responds #unreliable anon

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inkdemonapologist · 3 years

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In our BatIM Call of Cthulhu game we had a pretty crucial/magical bit of the Ink Machine stolen, and Joey has whisked us off to New Orleans to track it down. You would think the music boys would be having more fun here, but thINGS ARE ALREADY GETTING WEIRD

“His eyes hang throughout the city” was a phrase that the others found scrawled on the walls of JDS after Sammy had one of his Prophet episodes about a week ago, but it wasn’t until Sammy and Jack got the distinct feeling that the strange symbol cropping up on local banners was Watching Them that Sammy started to fear his ink-induced prophet rantings may have been, uh, actually somewhat prophetic!

Anyway if y’all want some out-of-context quotes from session one, THIS IS THE READMORE FOR YOU:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee)and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] (I can't believe Joey Drew is going to hecking die.) [Jack] (I can.)

[Henry] How early in the morning is it? [GM] Around 2 AM [Henry] Ohhhh god,... [Henry] Henry is groggy but alarmed, because Joey doesn't usually call this late unless there's an emergency, or maybe if he's veeeery drunk. [Sammy] Prohibition DID just end! [Henry] Well for Joey's sake it BETTER be an emergency,

[Joey] Joey just requests Henry to get down to the Studio, because there's something going on. [Henry] Oh god, it IS an emergency!

[Joey, after calling both Henry & Jack] Once Joey has exhausted all routes-- [Sammy] That's it! That's all of Sammy's friends!

[Jack] (Someone broke in, started writing on the walls, and Prophet Sammy was like, eXCUSE ME!! That's MY job!!!)

[Sammy] Sammy didn't notice the newspaper, he's just got someone accusing his alter-ego of being a false prophet. Or, himself, accusing someone else of being a false prophet! Unclear. [Jack] Could be both. [Henry] Duelling prophets. [Sammy] (dueling banjos plays in the distance)

[Jack] Jack just adds it to the bullet point list in his head of: "Things That Happened In Haiti???"

[GM] Sammy and Jack both notice that Henry's eyes are glowing. [Sammy] WELL that hasn't happened since UHHHH... HAITI? [Henry] Oh. Shit. Fuck. Um. Listen, I took a LOT of that potion. [Sammy] What's happening now? [Henry] ...sometimes I can still see things. [Jack] Jack's just thinking, yeah, sure, this can happen! Just add it to the list!!!!

[Sammy] But yeah, I think that wraps it up, tomorrow will be a normal day, at Joey Drew Studios. Gonna actually do normal animation, and sound, and nothing weird will happen, [Sammy] [Sammy] ...and Joey will NOT drag us off to New Orleans-- [Joey] *interrupting immediately* aCTUALLY, ABOUT THAT,

[Joey] Joey gathers everyone in his office and informs them that he will be going to New Orleans to try to get the stone back. [Sammy] Good luck. [Henry] *resigned sigh* Henry will come...

[Sammy] *sarcastically* Fantastic. I'll come so I can stab you if you cut yourself again. [Joey] *cheerfully* Great! That's wonderful!

[Jack] Jack isn't sure how much help he'll be-- [Joey] Think of it as a vacation! [Sammy] I've heard this before... [Jack] -- but he will... hesitantly agree, [Joey] Great! We won't be wasting any train tickets now! [Joey] He immediately pulls out itineraries for everyone.

[Sammy] *to Jack* It will be nice to have someone sensible. [Henry] Offended Henry noises! [Sammy] OH SORRY, you apparently never thought to inform us that you can just SEE secret golden messages all the time, so you've been knocked out of that category!

[Sammy] Sammy's still a little iffy on the idea that he ever agreed to go on the Haiti trip. [Jack] I mean, you just agreed to go to New Orleans! [Sammy] That was SPECIFICALLY for the purposes of potentially stabbing Joey in the eye.

[Henry] (Can we bring the Lurker with us?) [Sammy] nO he's gonNA DIE!! [Henry] Ah dammit, that's right, [Jack] Nooooo! Our emotional support cartoon character!! That's the real reason Jack needs to come. [Sammy] Yes, Jack, you're our backup emotional support cartoon.

[Sammy] The last time I brought my banjo on a vacation it got snapped in half and I bled on it so maybe I won't do that this time. [Jack] But how will you stress-play banjo? Emotional Support Banjo... [Henry] Bring one of the banjos he doesn't care as much about! [Sammy] *laughing* Sammy just, standing there in his apartment, looking between like three banjos, trying to make thIS AWFUL CHOICE,

[Joey] He just needs something to fiddle with, [Jack] To stop Sammy from getting violin-t, [Sammy] (SHAZZ is gonna get violent in a second!!!)

[GM] These eldritch bad guys don't seem to be above appropriation. [Sammy] Time to cancel the Masked Messenger.

[GM] Jack notices that Joey is still wearing his gloves and hat to have coffee indoors, apparently. [Jack] Hm!.... I mean, I feel like Jack has no right to judge!

[Sammy] He should not bring Sammy, because Sammy is no help in talking to humans, but here I am anyway. [GM] That's what Jack is for! [Jack] I thought Jack was here to hold things. [Sammy] That's good too, he's doing a good job. [Joey] He's holding onto all these terrible What Happened In Haiti facts! [Jack] He's holding onto the brain cell.

[GM] You notice that Joey apparently brought a hip flask and is making use of it. [Henry] Watcha got there? [Jack] Share with the class! [Sammy] You can't have it unless you brought enough for everyone.

[Sammy] Once Jack's sharing all the information he magically acquired from just looking pleasantly at this man -- [Jack] It's called friendship, Sam.

[GM, reading off a reporter's notes] "I see that yellow sign thing in my dreams..." [Joey] That definitely sounds like the weird ass bullshit that we're chasing... [Jack] I don't know, it's clearly unrelated!

[Joey] Joey's actually going to come up behind Jack and ask if Jack can talk to the guy up front for him. [Sammy] wh... [Sammy] ...jOEY DREW??? [Jack] First Sammy delegating, now Joey starts asking people to talk for him? Next Henry will ask Jack to start doing the animation!!

[Sammy] That sure is an icebreaker. [Jack] So, how about cults, huh?

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #when in doubt just keep drawing #lmao i love these boys so much

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ljstlr · 3 years

Text

LIFETIME.

genre: angst, heavy angst

words: 1911

choi minho x reader

———————————————————————————————————————

“Will you marry me?” Minho watched from the corner of the garden your soon-to-be-fiancé rented out just for this event – to propose to you. And as you answered yes, the atmosphere was filled with cheers, clapping, and even crying. Minho was about to let out a cheer when he felt an itching sensation on his throat, so he stepped out of the garden to the parking space to soothe his throat.

After what felt like an unending amount of coughing, he stood frozen in his spot. He couldn’t keep his eye off his hand. A daffodil laid gently on his hand and he would usually call the flower beautiful if it just didn’t come from his throat and had droplets of his blood on it. Minho silently cursed.

A single daffodil symbolizes an unrequited love. Minho read silently on his phone as he took his seat next to your other set of friends. As he read through the website, he couldn’t help but feel the uneasiness in his lungs and he knows exactly what was going on in his organ.

Is he scared? Fuck yes. He was just about to enter his 30s and he suddenly developed a disease that has no cure. Well, actually, it does. But he didn’t have the cure.

“Hey! Hyunjae told me you were a part of this, why didn’t you tell me?” He was disrupted from his thoughts when he heard your voice lingering on his right shoulder. He quickly shut off his phone as he flashed you a smile.

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it now?” Minho chuckled as he watched you pout and playfully slap him on the arm. The two of you shared a conversation up until you had to leave because your family wanted a portrait to be taken with your fiancé.

And he just had to be the one to take the photo. He bitterly counted down as he watched the genuine smile on your face through the phone screen – why couldn’t he make you smile like that?

He bowed down to your mother as he gave her back the phone. He quickly excused himself because he felt the itching feeling again and he didn’t want to cause a scene. Minho watched the sink fill with daffodil and his blood. He sighed as he used his arms to support himself on the sink.

This wasn’t the way he imagined his death to be.

As days gone by, Minho was definitely not getting any better. His apartment was starting to fill with flowers and the floors were smeared with blood. It looked pretty much like a crime scene but he didn’t care anymore. He was bound to die anyways.

But he was taken back when he heard knocks on his apartment door. He knew it was you – you were the only one who always came unannounced. He mentally cursed as he tried to get rid of the daffodils on the floor but being the impatient person you were, you opened the door yourself with the keys he lent you.

“Minho...?” He knows you were holding back yours tears and that caused Minho to immediately soften up. He walked towards you and wrapped you in a hug which caused your tears to overflow.

You stayed like that for a while until you pulled away and looked at Minho straight in his face. He gulped and felt a sting on his throat with the action he has just done.

“Why did you keep this from me?” You asked.

“I didn’t want you to stress about me, (y/n). You’re getting married.” Minho responded with a fake smile and but he knows you didn’t know that.

“Minho, are you dying?”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get better.” A lie. A bittersweet lie just to keep you from feeling pain. He was dying, but even so, all he wanted was for you to be safe and happy.

He watched as your face slowly lit up and your frown become a smile and it was like a medicine for him. Watching that unfold right in front of his eyes made him feel better – despite the rough and uncomfortable feeling of the flowers invading his lungs and throat.

“You better not die,” Minho was about to answer but you cut him off.

“Cause my baby better meet his Uncle.” And once again, Minho felt a crack on his heart. He was feeling other things as well, but he pushed those down because he didn’t want you to worry.

“Y-you’re pregnant?” Minho forcefully spoke and you nodded with a smile.

The feeling he was trying to push down got the best of him and he started coughing violently in front of you. You panicked as you see Minho struggle to cough and wheeze as a yellow flower came out of his mouth.

A yellow carnation symbolizes disdain, rejection, or disappointment. This lingered on and on in your head as you slowly pick up the flowers on the floor and throw them in the garbage bin. You look down on your hands to see scatters of blood everywhere. You let out a sad sigh before washing it away.

You opened the door to Minho’s door to see him coughing out even more carnations into his bed.

“You told me you weren’t dying.” She spoke coldly which made Minho pause from his fits of coughing. He didn’t know which one hurted more – the expression on your face or the feeling of suffocation from all the growing flowers.

“I won’t die.” Lie.

“Let me help you, Minho. I don’t want to lose you.” He smiled through the pain.

He wiped off the tears flowing down from your eyes as you beg him to not die. He hated seeing you like this. He didn’t want to leave you in a state like this when he dies.

“Hey. Calm down, (y/n). Stress is bad for your baby.” He felt a thorn stab through his lung as he spoke, but he hid away the pain from you.

She eventually calmed down and begged Minho to talk it out with the whoever it is that’s making him go through all the pain of the disease. He listened to her go on and on about getting well even though he knows there is no longer any more hope to hold on to.

And as she bid her goodbye and walked out the apartment door, Minho prayed. He has forgotten his religion long before, but he begged God to keep him alive just for you. Just so he can take away the pain that his giving you, he’d rather see you happy.

But he knows God once again failed to listen to his prayers as he felt another thorn stab him.

Anemone. He slowly read the word that matches the new flower that came out of his mouth today.

It indicates fading hope and a feeling of having been forsaken. He wanted to let out a bitter laugh, but the flowers and thorns constrained him from doing so.

He brushed off the yellow and purple flowers off his sofa to get a hold of the invitation you just sent him. A wedding invitation.

Minho hasn’t seen you ever since the carnation flowers, but he appreciated the hourly texts he got from you asking how he’s been. He’s glad that your communication only relied through technology, because he looked like shit. He would hate it if anyone saw him like this.

He couldn’t speak. It’s been a day or two since his vocal cord got fucked up from the thorns. He couldn’t sleep. I mean, how could he? Every damn minute is like an hour episode of coughing out flowers. He’s pale and skinny. Of course, he would be, considering the amount of blood he loss and not being able to digest any sort of food for the past weeks.

It was a miracle that he made it this far.

But he knows it’s over. As another fit of coughing attacked him, he felt a stabbing pain in his trachea. He started to lose the ability to breath, but he was able to reach the letter on his coffee table and held it close to his chest. It’s a letter he has been saving solely for this day.

He took one last deep breath before he laid lifeless on his sofa floor.

Be happy for me, (y/n).

You were in disbelief. You can’t believe your standing right in front of your Minho’s grave. Tears fell from your right eye as you gripped harshly on the letter his mom gave you before they all left the cemetery. You were the only one left and you refused to leave.

You sat down beside his grave and gathered the strength you have left to unfold the letter he left you.

“Hey,

If you’re reading this, firstly, I would like to give you my sincerest apologies, (y/n). I know I told you I would survive, but I didn’t have a cure. God knows how desperate I was with all my prayers to Him on how much I wanted to stay alive for you, but even He can’t find a way for me to live anymore.

I wish you a happy life. I have known you since the day you decided to hang out with the loner in high school – which was me of course. You deserve the galaxy and all of its stars for making my short stay in this life wonderful and memorable. Anyone would agree that I short-lived this lifetime, but maybe that’s the way it was meant to be.

Cause I couldn’t bear watching the love of my life be happy with someone else. Fuck, I can’t believe that I’m that much of a coward to only confess my undying affection for you now that I’m dead. But I was never the selfish type. I didn’t want you to suffer just because you couldn’t love me back.

You were and are happy, (y/n). I couldn’t take that away from you, so I kept all the pain to myself. And I would do it again and again if it’s for you. You wanted me to find a cure, but now we both know why that’s impossible. Because the cure for me is to be loved back by you, and that will never be a case now, wouldn’t be?

Maybe, just maybe, in another lifetime, I would be the one you spend your entire life with. Get married, have kids, buy a house, a car, all of that rom-com shit. But this lifetime isn’t ours, (y/n).

In this lifetime, I’m Minho. Your high school best friend, your college roommate, your co-worker, your ‘best man’, and now your guardian angel from above.

I couldn’t be the one you love, so let me just be your angel for now.

Until the next time we meet,

Love, Minho.”

Your heart broke as you finished reading Minho’s letter. You couldn’t breathe from all of the sobs you let out as you run your fingers through the ballpen ink and scatters of blood.

You gripped the letter and held it close to your chest. As you cried, you felt an itch on your throat. You thought it was just a cough that you needed to let out from all the sobbing, but you were wrong. And so was Minho.

Cause he could’ve survived, and this lifetime could’ve been theirs.

Because you just coughed out an Anemone flower.

#shinee fic #choi minho fic #minho fic #choi minho angst #choi minho #choi minho x reader #minho x reader #shinee x reader

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nininek12 · 3 years

Text

Exes and hoes (Yandere! Kook)

Disclaimer : this is a fic. Purely just me trying to procrastinate the rest of studying I have to do.

College students : philosophy major Y/N x info major Kook ft. economy major Joon

Basically, Joon and Y/N broke up but they’re still friends who have feelings for each other and Jungkook, their friend, can’t take it anymore.

What were you doing going around smiling like that ? Jungkook loved his hyung. They were the first one from the squad to meet. But right now as his blood was boiling he only saw red. You looked so comfortable on the clearly big enough sofa with his arm around your shoulder almost cuddling into his stupid 6′4 chest. “Hi noona” He said not even bothering to look at his friend. “Hi Kookie” you answered peeking your head from the couch with the same bunny smile you gave your ex just a moment ago. Knowing you, you would fall back asleep on his chest as soon as you dived back into it. That couldn’t happen. “How was your day, son ?” Joon said in an overly deep voice. He jokes a lot about how Jungkook might as well be your son since he’s always around you two. At first the younger boy didn’t like it one bit. How was he supposed to snatch you away if he were in the son zone ? He even confronted his friend about it saying it was plain weird. But after hearing your giggle and how you play along everytime, he figured he had to get on that. “Do you want to take a nap or should a make you a wittle snack ?”. I mean you would be a hot mom to be fair, he thought to himself. “A huggie !” Without missing a beat you get up from the couch and pull him into a hug. Bingo. You wore shorts and your own shirt for once. Somehow you loved that Namjoon was so tall and how you could wear his tops without bothering to put on bottoms. Or anything else. Not that he looked but he definitely looked through the teddy bear he gifted you on your birthday. All the squad teased him for it but you thought it was so cute you held the plushie to sleep that day. He’s moved evn thinking about it. He can feel all of you and when you pull back he pulls you in closer. You don’t question it because you love hugs. After some time you start to get worried and pat him “Hey you good ?”. That sounded horribly like bro talk but it’s all you knew. “Jungkook ?”. He hated it when you used his full name. Without looking at you he can guess your eyebrows are drawn together and your lower lip is slightly out. Meanwhile Namjoon left the house. You noticed because you nodded him goodbye quietly. That didn’t make you worry. Since you broke up he had a life of his own. That made you feel like you were a burden at first but really he was living it when you were together anyways. At least that’s what Jungkook told you when he came to find you after your breakup. You quickly forgave him tho, he was a precious friend, just not made for relationships. It was bittersweet because you did love each other. Last thing you know, you still very much love him. By the time you got lost in your thoughts you almost forgot about Jungkook. When he pulled back you almost whined at the lack of warmth. Maybe you were touch deprived since that night. As he settled his inked hands on your waist, you gasped. “Noona...”. Reading his eyes there was definitely something but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The best you could do for this poor boy who seemed to have had a bad day was be a sister figure right ? “Yes Kookie” you said softly grabbing his face look at him in the eyes. Little did you know he was staring at your boobs since he noticed you didn’t wear a bra. His angelic face seemed like it was making him glow. The grip he had on your waist was nothing like what his eyes told you. “You already ate today ?” The childish voice he usually had was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, you love to solve problems. Not maths, that’s gross. But anything for people was just your thing. Your friends called you unpaid therapist but you didn’t even want to be a therapist, it seemed boring. Realising the hand you unconsciously put up to pat his head could be seen as patronising you slowly pulled it back awkwardly. You were now confused as the man in front of you seemed to scream panic in his eyes. The grip you grew into became harsher leaving almost no space between the two of you. Oh this could not be right, the Kookie you thought was slumping is having a semi-hard. You froze trying to remain the most naturally in the apparently very much needed embrace. “Let’s eat at my place noona !” that voice was back again. It was kinda creepy but you brushed it off. There was no food at your place anyways. “Ugh I’m too lazy to get changed Kook” you smiled apologetically “Put my sweater on !” He did come in with a comically thick coat, he would be fine. You tried not to stare when he took off his hoodie and quickly put it on. Your legs were covered to your knees and Jungkook could swear he let a moan out at the sight.

His place was only a few minutes away so you walked. “Let’s order chicken !” You stared at him dumbfounded. “Ya why did we have to come here then”. You were met with only a shrug from his back. You’d be waiting for at least 15 minutes so you settled on his couch and turned Netflix on. The action made his hoodie ride up your thighs and he couldn’t help ut close the delivery app to snap a few pictures. “Do you want fries with it ?” He asked just to make you look at him “Yes pleaase” He could get used to the sight no doubt. Quickly he placed the order and headed to the couch. Fortunately his couch was a little smaller than yours. Like a little pet he places his head on your lap. You’ve been wanting to continue Start Up so that’s what you put on. Your account was registered on his TV. Everyone trusts him if it comes to technology. Something about how linking your things to his would make it faster. Or about him being able to access everything you do through the camera of those devices and hacking Namjoon’s phone to contact girls and block your number for a few days. Not to mention all your texts and exchanges. All of it. Of course he’s also the one Namjoon “owed his life to” when he managed to unblock you within a few clicks on his computer. “Are you on episode 6 ?” You asked for the third time but he obviously had a weird day you thought. “Of course”. He looked up at you. “Wow we really match”. Anything to hear your giggle. It was worth watching everything you watched. “Do you have a blanket ?”. In a rush he got back with his blanket. You settled on his chest and he had to hold your waist to keep you from falling off the couch. Taking advantage of the position he could talk confidently “You’re beautiful” “I know right ! Suzy IS that bitch”. Somewhere between confusion, relief then frustration he blurts out “I like you”. You twist your whole body so you’re chest to chest. Scanning his eyes you could see the adoration and even desperation. “What was that ?” “I love you”. This was all too serious. Before you could eat him up with your eyes that clearly say rejection he averts his eyes to the screen. “So that’s what the second male lead feels”. He laughs but it doesn’t meet his eyes, you’re still watching him. Not looking to answer anymore just studying him. “I mean Nam Joo Hyuk is worth it I guess”. He tries to lighten up the mood. There you go with that half assed smile. His plan is working, mind you. Now he’s truly the dejected guy friend. Everyone likes that. They always end up close and you had a thing for them. I mean as long as the first candidate is currently dealing with the board of education for “sharing innapropriate pictures of women”. Never assume fixing your computer is going to be free. Namjoon was a good man. He taught him everything he needed to know. Everything about you. He knew it was cheap but the way you were falling asleep in his arms told him he was so close. So close to having you.

#jungkook #namjoon #bts #bts college #bts college au #yandere bts #yandere #jungkook yandere #bts fic #namjoon fic #jungkook fic #kook fic #fluff bts #start up #suzy #nam joohyuk #bts yandere #bts jungkook #bts namjoon

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nalgenewhore · 3 years

Text

masterlist - ao3 - day three - day five

<3<3<3

TW: Mentions of PTSD, Psych Wards, Mentions of Child Abuse/Abuse, Gaslighting

<3<3<3

It’s so late. She’s exhausted after being on her feet for fourteen hours.

Elide wants two things.

One: The hottest, longest shower she’s ever had.

Two: The piece of chocolate cake she bought, but hasn’t had the time to eat yet.

As she drives home from the hospital, she nearly falls asleep at the wheel. Elide snaps her eyes open and sits up straighter. Opening her window, she hopes that the bitter winter wind will encourage her body to stay alert.

It works well, and she starts to shiver, her teeth chattering lightly. She keeps the window open still.

At a red light, her phone starts to ring. It’s in her bag, on the passenger seat, and Elide ignores it. The important people in her life text when they need something and she’s driving anyway.

Her apartment building isn’t far from work, so she’s home shortly. After she parks in her unit’s assigned spot, her phone rings again. Elide reaches over and fishes it out. When she sees her girlfriend’s contact, she smiles and happily accepts the call. “Hey, you. I’m happy you called.”

“Hi, love,” Lorcan says, her voice distant and shaky. “Are you at work?”

“No,” Elide frowns at Lorcan’s voice, worried. “I just got home. Are you alright, Lor? You sound upset.”

It takes a couple seconds for Lorcan to reply. “I’m- I… can you come over? I- I just really want to see you.”

Immediately, Elide re-clips her seat belt. “Of course. I’ll be there soon, honey. Do you want me to stay on the line?” She waits with wavering patience, trying to force calmness for her obviously distressed girlfriend.

“Yes,” Lorcan all but confesses, like she’s ashamed to have needs, “please.”

“Good. I missed you today,” Elide puts the phone on speaker and places it in the centre console’s cup holder. “And last night.” She fakes a pout, “It’s so cold without you.”

Lorcan chuckles, the sound forced and choked, “Yeah, ‘m sorry I couldn’t be ya personal furnace, princess.”

Elide smoothly changes lanes, “You should be. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I showered at work and was probably going to crash the minute I got home.” There comes another red light and Elide stops in the left turn lane. “Work wasn’t too busy, just so gods-damned long. I had rounds at five AM, hon, but I got to scrub in on a femur repair today.”

Both of the women know that Elide’s chatter is so that Lorcan can be distracted. Lorcan makes minimal comments and mostly communicates in monotonous hums.

Elide parks in front of Lorcan’s building and picks her phone up, taking it off speaker. She holds it to her ear, “I’m here, Lorcan. Buzz me in?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you,” Elide says, biting her bottom lip.

Lorcan’s voice is soft and warm, “I love you, Lee.”

They both hang up and Elide gets out of her old Ford Explorer. She walks to the lobby and presses the button next to Lorcan’s unit number.

“‘llo.”

“It’s me, Salvaterre.” The locked doors buzz open. “Thank you, honey.” Their friends don’t understand how Elide can call her six-foot-seven girlfriend ‘honey’ but it just fits, and Lorcan melts when Elide calls her such.

Elide pulls the door open and walks to the elevator. Lorcan’s building is relatively new, so the ride is short and smooth. Elide steps out on the thirteenth floor and goes down the hall to Lorcan’s apartment. Knocking on the door, Elide waits on the doormat in relative calmness.

The door is opened a few moments later. Lorcan stands in a ratty t-shirt and rugby shorts, one hand on the doorframe and one on the doorknob. “Hi.”

Elide grins and rests her hand on Lorcan’s arm, “Hey. Can I come in?”

Lorcan nods mutely and steps out of the way. She lets Elide in and closes the door. The petite woman hangs up her jacket and toes off her shoes. When she stands back up, Lorcan wraps her in a long, tight hug. Elide melts against her girlfriend and slides her arms around Lorcan’s broad shoulders.

She slides a hand through the loose hair at the back of Lorcan’s head and the other soothes circles between Lorcan’s shoulder blades. “Honey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

Lorcan nods again, “I know. Thank you for coming.” She drops her hands to the backs of Elide’s knees and easily picks her up. Lorcan wraps her girl’s soft, warm thighs around her waist. Elide smiles.

Lorcan walks them into her room and doesn’t turn on the lights. She puts Elide down on her bed and sits down on the edge of the mattress, not knowing how to say what she needs to.

Elide gets up, “I’m going to get changed and go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Lorcan hums and her eyes silently track Elide as she moves around.

She trades her athletic shirt and scrub pants for a long sleeved skate shirt of Lorcan’s she had cropped and a pair of compression shorts. Her hips swing as she pads into the toilet. Lorcan stretches out on her bed and stares up at the rotating ceiling fan.

Her father never calls. He never contacts her.

The last time she saw or heard from him was seven years ago, and the subsequent PTSD episode landed her in the psych ward for a month.

Right now… she’s fine. She’s- she’s fine.

Since he called her this afternoon, since she heard his low, threatening voice - the voice that haunted her childhood and nightmares - Lorcan’s been in a state of shock.

Her phone rang. Not caring to see who it was, Lorcan picked it up and held it to her ear, “‘llo.”

“Now, I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to greet your father, Lorcan.”

Her blood ran cold and her heart stuttered to a stop. The report she’d been working on was forgotten. “C-cillian?”

He clicked his tongue and she flinched. Her hands began to shake as she remembered what used to happen when he clicked his tongue. Her father clicked his tongue when he was upset, not angry. Whatever punishment he doled out after he clicked his tongue was always worse, because he wouldn’t be blinded by rage.

No, he was meticulous. Careful.

“How are you, Lorcan? That mother of yours told me you’d moved to Perranth. She tells me you have a girlfriend, too.”

Still shaking, Lorcan asked, “You… you talked to my mom?” He knows about Elide.

“Sure did. You know, I was almost certain that you knew about my house in Perranth. It hurt that you didn’t ask to rent from me.”

“Why can’t you leave me alone,” Lorcan whispered, trying to block out the memories and flashbacks his voice triggered. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Now, I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I am your father. I deserve the chance to make it up to you.”

Nothing can ever make up for what you did to me, Lorcan thought. She closed her eyes and the tears she hadn’t known were forming spilt down her cheeks. “Please,” she said, “just- just leave me be. Leave my mom and the twins be.”

Cillian sucked on his teeth, “Don’t be selfish, girl. You were such a difficult child. It hurt me so much to discipline you like that, but I had to. You know that.”

“Good-bye, Cillian,” Lorcan said, her entire body trembling. “This conversation is over. If- if you attempt to contact me again, I will file a restraining order.” With strength she didn’t exactly know she had, Lorcan hung up and immediately blocked the number.

“Lorcan?”

She sits up suddenly, her heart beating quickly. Of course, it’s only Elide, so she relaxes. The mattress dips as Elide crawls back into bed. She rubs Lorcan’s tattoo-marked thigh, where there is hardly any skin left untouched by ink. “Do you want to be under the blankets?”

“Yes.”

Lorcan and Elide move so they can lift the duvet and quilts. When they’ve settled, Lorcan rolls onto Elide. She spreads Elide’s legs with a hand to fit flush against her and rests her head on Elide’s tits.

Elide chuckles softly and scratches Lorcan’s scalp, “You big softy.”

Lorcan works her arms around Elide’s waist and exhales slowly.

“Do you want to talk or sleep?”

“Talk.”

Elide nods, unseen by Lorcan and kisses the top of her girlfriend’s head, “Ok. You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” Lorcan responds, unconsciously hugging Elide tighter. “I… I need to.”

“Ok, honey.”

It takes a full minute for Lorcan to speak another word. “My… Cillian called me. I was at work.”

Elide stiffens, her hand stopping in Lorcan’s hair, “Your… your father?”

A nod. “He talked to my mom, El,” Lorcan whispers, trying not to cry. “He- he knows that I live here. He knows about you .” A shuddering sob escapes her and Lorcan shakes. Her eyes screw shut. “I ca-an’t make him leave. ”

In her chest, Elide feels her heart crack in two. She kisses the top of Lorcan’s head and scratches a loop between her shoulder blades. “He’s gone. You’re with me. You’re safe.”

Lorcan still cries, her grip desperate and greedy.

Soon, she grows quiet and nudges Elide’s neck with her nose. “I love you, Lee. So much.”

“I love you too.”

As she lifts her head, Lorcan searches Elide’s face. She tilts her chin up and kisses the ‘v’ between her brows, and then presses her lips to Elide’s. Just for a moment, nothing but a mere touch. Lorcan rolls them and sits up, pulling Elide’s knees around her hips. Elide squeaks at the sudden movement, and quickly settles, looping her arm around Lorcan’s neck.

Lorcan clasps her hands around Elide’s waist and stretches her long legs out. She rests her chin on Elide’s shoulder and closes her eyes, “I want to be fine. I-I want to be fine.”

Elide lifts her head, her face directly in front of Lorcan’s, “I know you do.”

“I’m so tired,” Lorcan whispers, a confession.

Her girlfriend’s eyes mirror her exhausted, drained state. Her fingers are soft and light as she traces them over Lorcan’s features, “I know that too.” Elide climbs off of Lorcan’s lap and chuckles at her whine of protest. “You baby. Lie down.”

Lorcan grumbles, but does as she’s told.

“On your side.”

Again, she complies. She moves her arms, ready for Elide to slip into them and to hold her close. Instead, Elide slides her arms around Lorcan’s waist, her chest pressing against Lorcan’s back. For a moment, Lorcan stiffens and looks down in silence, sort of confused at the new position. She’s- she’s never been little spoon. Her girlfriends were always shorter than her, and it just made sense.

Elide kisses the nape of her neck and doesn’t pull away as she asks, “Is this ok?”

Lorcan carefully eases into Elide’s hold. Their legs move and Elide’s is stretched over her hip. She grips Elide’s thigh and nods, “Yeah. ‘t’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” Elide teases, her grin spreading across Lorcan’s skin.

A slight, barely-there smile curls Lorcan’s full lips. “I feel safe, Lee.” She takes Elide’s hand and kisses her fingertips, “You make me feel safe.”

<3<3<3

@ladyverena @ladywitchling @mythicaitt @sassyhobbits @darklesmylove @julemmaes @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones @highladyofthegentry @darlinminds @nahthanks @sjmships @eyllweambassador @flamingveritas @adelzd-bookblr @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22 @firestarsandseneschals @the-regal-warrior

#femslash february #fem!elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #fem!lorcan salvaterre #isa writes lesbian shit #nalgenewhore

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functionofjules · 4 years

Text

White Flag

A/N: I may just become a Criminal Minds account.

Prompt: Season 3 Episode Nine plus Reader as Penelopes sister

---

"Where the hell is my sister!" I yell at the nurse working the desk, making a group of people stare at me.

She takes a deep breath at my harshness and says "If you would let me finish, Penelope Garcia is currently is surgery for a gun wound. I'm sure you could gain more information with the group over there" she gestures to a group of people who I recognize from pictures.

I run over to JJ who I had met once for drinks with Penelope

"JJ, whats going on?" I ask sitting next to her

She looks surprised to see me "Y/N? I was gonna call you once I got a hold of Morgan... How did you get here?"

I hastily say "Penny's apartment manager called me cause I'm her emergency contact. What going on?"

Morgan was rushing through the building and burst through the doors.

Just as I asked a doctor came out assuring us that Penelope was going to be okay, but it was a close one.

I sit down in the chair leaning my head back.

A taller, attractive man, who I think was called Spencer asked "So how exactly do you know Garcia?"

I furrowed my brows "I'm her sister"

The team looked surprised, Spencer bewildered. Morgan sits down next to me and says "Another Garcia?"

I nod "There's a family photo on her desk, I know its there"

There eyes widen "That little girl is you?"

"Yeah, pretty sure" I say with a hasty laugh. "Why?"

Hotch says "Well the girl in the photo seemed to have a more timid nature. Also because you've lost many of your physical features from childhood so-"

"You're Hot" Reid says, everybody turning to look at him.

He looks around and flushes, his higher pitched voice squeaked "Did I say that out loud?"

I laugh "Ill take the compliment Reid"

He looks confused "You know me?"

I nod "I know all of you, Penny talks about you guys all the time"

They smile at the thought when Hotch gats us back on track "Y/N can you think of anything Garcia was doing tonight that may have lead something like this?"

"No, not real- Oh no! She had a date with this guy tonight. She was so excited." I say putting my head in my hands.

---

When Penelope woke up she looked exhausted.

"No tears please" she remarked "I'm afraid if I start crying ill come unstapled"

I step into view

She lets out a quiet gasp "My dearest baby sister! Come here my love"

I maneuver around JJ and hug her. I try to be gentle, scared that shell shatter if I squeeze her to hard.

"Pen, whoever did this is a dead man I promise you" I whisper and she laughs but when I look at her she's in pain "Whats up?"

She sighs "I feel so stupid babes, I really thought he liked me"

"We need a name Penelope" Prentiss says

"James Colby Bailed" she says looking in the distance

She looked so worn out.

Everyone else left before she held JJ back and said to 'not talk about her like she's a victim'. JJ nodded and rejoined the group but I stayed with Penelope.

I asked her how she was but she answered in haste and said "I'm fed up with talking about me, catch me up with you"

I smile "I'm fine, me and Chip broke up but I wasn't expecting that to be forever anyway. Met this guy Kyle at a bar but he never called me back so I'm taking that as a not gonna happen...oh and your friend Spencer thinks I'm hot"

She grins "That's awesome. Spencers a sweety, you two would be adorable. At least one of us should be happy"

I pout at her "You will find a good guy Penny. You are hot stuff wether you believe it or not. The boys that dont like you are stupid an eye boys that do are just too intimidated by your greatness"

She smiles at me "Look at my baby sister, giving me advice. As much as I would love this convo to continue, I'm a bit tored so imma take a power nap"

I stand up amd kiss her forehead "Quite alright P, I spotted a vending machine so I'm gonna snatch us some Skittles"

---

Reid and Morgan came back into the room to ask Penelope some questions. My mind was racing.

"I heard him walking" Penelope says "He leaned over me and I held my breath so-"

I tried my best not to make a scene as I walked out of the room, holding my hand over my mouth to control my sobs.

I walked outside, probably looking like a mess to a bystander.

Spencer walks out and tpcuhes my shoulder "Are you alright?"

I just shake my head "She didn't deserve this. She always deserves so much better than what she gets. This shouldn't have happened..."

Though I've known this man for less than we hours, his embrace was oddly comforting. He smelled of ink and peppermint, his vest seemingly scratchy at first but then providing a comforting warmth.

"I promise you Y/N, we're going to figure this out. Penelope is gonna be back at work and...I wanna take you out" he says, pulling back to look at me.

I laugh "Odd way to ask a girl out but it works for you"

-le timeskip-

The man man who hurt Penelope was dead, never to hurt her or anyone else again.

I stood beside Spencer as Penelope talked with the man who almost beat her computer skills.

"So, it seems like two out of three of your promises have been fulfilled. When are you gonna make up that third one?" I ask, looking over at him.

He smiles at me and says "Thursday good?"

"Pick me up at six Pretty Boy" I say walking away

He loudly says "I don't have your number!"

I turn around, walking backwards "Check your pocket"

When he looks in his pocket he will find my business card with my address and a heart scribbled on.

I hear Morgan say "Man, these Garcia women have us whipped"

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer+reid+fluff #criminal minds #penelope garcia

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dribs-and-drabbles · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on the costuming of Bad Buddy (a thread*)

Episode 8 (3/3): The Friends

There's so much I want to write about this week that I've had to break it down into three different posts: one for Ink and Pa; one for Pat and Pran; and one about the Friends. But here's the Friends,

Ooof, this feels like a difficult one to write about...I might get rambly and predictive rather than reflective...but I'll do my best to be succinct. I'm going to start at the end of the episode and Wai in the lighting/sound booth. At first glance Wai's t-shirt looked to be a light shade of green - signifying that he's potentially an obstacle to Pat and Pran's happiness, the cause of conflict - BUT I believe it's actually a pastel/baby blue (and therefore indicating that he's not as bad as he seems 🤞🏽 haha...ha...h...🤡). Hear me out...

Earlier in the episode Pran is in the lighting/sound booth in his sandy coloured top with what looks like green stripes (on the right below - note the dark green headphones too). Aha!, I thought, it's because he's hearing the gossip about Pat and who he might be dating from the people on stage - cue conflict and angst. But later, both times when Pran is backstage speaking with Pat, the stripes are actually a dark blue (on the left below, and even looked black at times). What's my take on this? Well, I think the light in the sound/lighting booth has a green hue to it, changing the colours of the clothes. Why is this important?

Well, Wai in a pale blue actually suggests a support of Pat (and therefore Pran's relationship to him) whether that's now or in the future. It's a weak support, at best, and something has made him drop the curtain to reveal Pat and Pran's relationship...but I'll get back to this in a moment.

Earlier in the episode, when he's looking for Pa and then drinking with Pran, Wai is also in blue (in fact it's the only colour he wears this episode)...but this time it's a richer, brighter shade. There's even a lovely blue light in the fridge to the left of him. (Note also the beautiful lighting behind Pran as he talks - with the red, blue, and mint green lights to his right and the yellow to his left. I love the way Pran is still managing to smile through his reflections about how exhausting their secret relationship is...because, even though he says it's something he tries to avoid, his expression says otherwise. 💛)

Now, here's my (clown) theory: If the rumour is true that Wai was the one to see Pat and Pran in the car earlier, then he might have used the conversation outside the uni to test Pran about his feelings for Pat (by threatening to beat Pat up). Then in the bar, whilst Pran talks about how difficult it would be to date Pa, Wai would know Pran's really talking about the difficulties he's facing in dating Pat. I think (again clowning here) that Wai might actually feel sympathy for Pran and want to help him but isn't sure how. (I would love it if he had actually said to Pran here, "hey man, I know about you and Pat, why don't you talk to me about it" but I don't think he did [silly boy]). Anyway, Wai might potentially reason for himself that revealing Pat and Pran's secret relationship would actually relieve this pressure that Pran feels (not condoning this btw - he was wrong no matter the reason) and enable Pran to live freer. So, I don't think Wai dropped the curtain out of spite or hatred. And adding on to that, I don't think he'll be the one to tell Pran's mum. This is because at some point we will get this:

We get Squad Goals™. The architecture and engineering groups uniting together. And this can only happen if whatever reason Wai has to drop the curtain is acceptable enough for Pran (and Pat) to forgive him (which might not be acceptable to us, because no one should out someone else, do I need to keep saying it?)...so I don't think Wai can be that bad. Btw, I also noticed in the credits that these two moments (below) of each group separately might be just before they meet and join up (above) since they're all in exactly the same clothes:

Wai is still very much in favour with Pran, so I don't think he is an out-and-out villain. He's mis-guided, perhaps, but I think he's done what he's done out of somewhat good intentions (again, not saying it was ok) and I cannot wait to find out what his excuse is. 🤨 @thecookiemonster77 wrote a theory about how the fallout from dropping the curtain might be that Wai becomes gradually isolated from his friends (in a parallel to Pat and Pran becoming accepted) and I like the potential of scenario...but as I've already said, he will eventually be forgiven and brought back into the unified squad.

Now for the other friends. We don't see much of them this episode, just for the rugby practice and at the end when some are suspiciously in the theatre for the reveal. The trailer for episode 9 suggests Pat and Pran will have a hard time with their friends...but I hope their clothes are actually foreshadowing the opposite. Safe and Louis are in both Pran and Pat's colours - Safe in red, and Louis in blue stripes. I've already written about my predictions (or hope) that Safe will be the Best Boy™ of architecture and the voice of reason for the group 🤞🏽 so let's hope they will be supportive.

Korn is also in blue with a bit of pink. He looks taken aback, curious, a little shocked...but despite the ominous dark green t-shirt, I don't think he's going to ostracise Pat like the preview suggests.

First, my prediction was right that the engineering group was going to be supportive of Pat hitting on someone from architecture when they found out. In episode 8 they're in red and pink when grilling Pat and they say that Pat's "so cool" and that they "admire him so much". Sounds pretty positive...

However, in the preview it seems Korn has done a one-eighty - telling Pat that only engineers can sit and that "no outsiders allowed". I'm hoping here that Korn is just teasing Pat and we're being fed a big ole fat red herring. Why is this? Well, going off previous previews, we can't trust a single thing we see/hear but also...I can't help but notice the mint green cap the girl is wearing in the background. A very thin thread, admittedly, but I'm hanging on to it for dear life until I'm proven otherwise 😂🤡

So, circling back to Wai and Pran... Next week there will be animosity between them but they will have to work together on the play. It's interesting that both are in black t-shirts here (Wai's is under a white shirt) - one of the first times Pran has worn black (Wai has worn black with another colour a few times already). And before anyone says, I know it's customary in theatre for technicians/backstage personal to wear black...but it has also been set up in the story so that Pran can wear black here - perhaps symbolising how dark he feels about the situation, how overwhelmed and heavy.

Anyway, whatever is going on I do think there is a lot about the situation we don't know, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed for 'good intentions manifested badly' rather than 'outright spite and dickery'. 🤞🏽🙏🏽✨🤡

[Ep 1] [Ep 2] [Ep 3] [Ep 4] [Ep 5] [Ep 6] [Ep 7] [Ep 8] [Ep 9] [Ep 10]

#bad buddy #bad buddy series #bad buddy the series #patpran #pat x pran #architecture and engineering #bad buddy costume colour theories #bbcct #I really want to make it clear I am not condoning Wai's actions #one should NEVER out someone else #BUT my tendency is to see the inherent good in people #I want Wai to be inherently good #even if he takes the wrong actions #hoo boy this feels like a contentious issue #I need next week to come quick so I can finally know and understand #bad buddy episode 8

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goosewithasaxophone · 3 years

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Attack On Titan seasons 3+4 Spoilers (and 1 if you haven’t started it or gotten halfway thru it yet)

EVERYONE LISTEN UP OR DONT IDC BUT I JUST FINISHED EPISODE 8 OF AOT AND I HAVE AN IRRELEVANT HEADCANON THAT HELPS ME FALL ASLEEP AT NIGHT

Levi says to the kids (i guess they’re not kids anymore 😭😭😭😭) “Don’t die on me” and i just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA it got me thinking how fuckin TIRED THIS POOR MAN IS of LOSING HIS FRIENDS

he lost his mom as a young child, his squad in s1, Kenny, Erwin and almost Hange (TOO CLOSE MOM TOO CLOSE) in s3, now Sasha in s4 ??? he needs a BREAK !!!!!!!!!!!!

so here’s my headcanon that i think about nonstop ☺️☺️

Levi is alone in his office after they return from the fight between Eren and the other titans. Sasha is put to rest with her things gathered and folded nicely on Levi’s desk to return to her family (are they alive ?? whatever i don’t remember).

He’s sitting at his desk writing a letter to go with Sasha’s things when they’re given back to whomever. Hange walks in, she’s exhausted. They both are. She stands in his doorway watching him. He tells her to come in, his tone gruff and assertive and his voice low and tired. His eyes are dark, even under the light of the lantern on his desk, shedding a low warm glow around the little room.

Hange steps closer and stands behind him where he sits, reading over his shoulder at the letter he’s writing. Beside it, she sees another letter, in fact, it’s a small pile of letters. Each paper has his scribbly writing inked and smudged and aged. She glided her fingers across the sides of the top page in the pile, trying to read them under the dull light. She sees the name “Erwin Smith” appear several times in several variances throughout the letter. Her heart twinges at the heartfelt words in the letter. Underneath that one she searches for other names in the other letters. She sees Petra, Oluo, Eld, and Gunther throughout the other pages.

By the time she finishes reading final letter in the pile she snaps back into the moment and notices Levi writing more aggressively on Sasha’s letter. His pen is taking the pressure from his hands and almost tearing through the paper. Hange has to place her hand on his wrist before he goes too far. He resists and tears a hole in the paper.

“Fuck,” he curses aggressively under his breath. Hange is about to say something, she opens her mouth to try to say something, anything that will reassure Levi that the tear in the page is nothing to fret, he can write another copy. But she knows she can’t say that because his words are authentic and to write another copy would be replicating a feeling already felt. That’s dwelling in the past and Levi doesn’t do that.

So she says nothing, and instead places her hand on his back. If she presses her palm flat against him she can feel his breath grow shallow and rigid. His breathing becomes audible.

Levi does not show emotion. He stares straight ahead and speaks monotonously no matter the situation. He uses his actions as expression and displays loyalty through his behavior.

Unless he’s alone with Hange.

Moments pass and Hange thinks he’s pulled himself together, so she takes a step back. Just as her fingertips lift from the man’s back he slams his fist on the desk and drops his face into his hands. Hange swoops down and throws herself over him like a protective blanket. She snakes her arms around him as far as they’ll go and squeezes tightly.

Levi curls forward from within her embrace and continues to try to control his breathing. He’s failing, they’re both aware, and neither say a word. It’s not until Hange realizes he isn’t going to immediately pull himself together that she takes another action. Shuffling her feet until she’s directly in front of him she brings her arms underneath his and raises him so he’s standing. She can hold him much closer this way.

“Fucking shit,” he sobs. Despite the lack of context Hange knows exactly what he’s talking about. It translated to “Why do I keep losing people?” She says the only thing she can think to say in the moment.

“Not me,” she whispers, feeling her own tears begin to sting her eyes. “Never me.”

“You were too close,” he mumbles. “Don’t ever fucking pull some shit like that again, he growled, remembering back to the sight of her being slammed against the trees, the sound of her voice shouting in pain as she hit the hard surfaces on her way down after her gear failed to suspend her. “That was too fucking close.”

Hange chuckles weakly. “I’ll do my best.”

“No you won’t. Your wreckless ass can’t stand not being at the center of danger.”

“What do you expect, that’s how we learn about things. From the center of them.”

“You’re fucking stupid.”

“I know.”

He brings his arms around her waist and pulls tightly. She knows he doesn’t mean the things he says. She knows he doesn’t think she’s intellectually stupid. He just doesn’t want to lose her too.

“You’re not gonna lose me, but I can’t lose you either, okay?” she said, trying to take a more encouraging turn. “I can’t handle those stupid kids on my own. Someone’s gotta be around to kick the shit outta them and keep ‘em in line, okay?” He nods against her chest and keeps his face buried in her.

It’s late evenings like these, when they return from some sort of mission, after Levi has changed out of his bloodstained clothes and Hange has restored her messy ponytail and everyone else has settled in for a long awaited rest, that Levi finds himself emotionally more vulnerable. It’s late evenings like these that when Hange is around and they’re alone, he can let himself be vulnerable. She’s his closest remaining partner.

It’s the pile of letters on his desk, never sent out, only ever growing with every additional squad member’s death, that Hange sees Levi’s true colors in. He’s not the cold, distant, abusive caption that everyone fears to anger lest they experience his wrath. He’s the damaged, healing, fragile captain that is so goddamn determined to keep his squads alive because every single time a member dies, another small piece of him dies with them. When the kids came into the picture he had never felt a greater weight on his shoulders. Every boy containing Farlan’s eyes and every girl containing Isabel’s, though no one saw it but him. He had to keep these stupid, wreckless, impulsive kids alive, because if he didn’t, who would?

But now the kids weren’t kids anymore. They were growing up. They were maturing. They were seeing things that toughened their skin and their hearts. They were taking control of their lives and realizing the real important things in life.

Levi was glad he could see them grow up and become wreckless adults instead of their old wreckless selves. But it also scared him, because he used to be that fresh new wreckless adult. And now he was the only one left. Him and Hange.

And that’s why he puts up an emotionless front. Because he and Hange are the last two left. The kids may think they are on their own, but Levi keeps an eye out. He watches and observes and takes pride in their enthusiasm on the good days and stays quietly sympathetic in the defeated hope on the bad ones. He’s watching because he cares so much. And that is what makes him so afraid.

Anyway that took me a half hour to type out because the more i thought about it while writing it the more developed it got. So there’s my big detailed headcanon, probably some misinformation in there but that’s because i don’t always understand what’s going on in the show and i’m far too behind to start the manga now. hope y’all enjoy and can suffer through the rest of the season along with me <3

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

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HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 7: When Your Reflection Plots Against You (Part 3)

What is this, a crossover episode?

Okay, so funny story! The end to the story I’ve been doing recently and today’s prompt are about the same thing, so I sort of have to have them both be the thing for today because yeah! Part 1/3 Part 2/3

Anyway, onto...

Prompt 7: MC’s First Kiss

When Matthew finally came to, he had a pounding headache. He pushed himself up with the guitar case, getting back onto his face, before noticing the mirror. He wasn’t in it. Of course, Matthew thought, I’m the reflection now. He looked behind him, hoping to see where that light had come from. There was nothing. Apart from him, the bathroom was empty. Suddenly, he heard a door creak. On the other side of the mirror, in the real world, Charlie Weasley had walked in. Matthew moved towards the mirror.

“Charlie!” he tried, but to no avail, “Charlie!”

But there was nothing. It was like he was a ghost. Actually, I’m less than a ghost now. He sighed, moving back towards the guitar case. With nothing else to do, he picked up the instrument and slung it onto his back, before leaving the boys’ toilets. It occurred to him that he needed to find Edwin before he did anything too embarrassing, or before he got to his friends.

It was bizarre to see the halls of Hogwarts empty, but with all the same buzz of people moving up and down. It was rather like there being a conversation happening in the other room, but you couldn’t for the life of you find that room. He tried to marshal his thoughts as to where Edwin would go with his body. The lake, obviously, he thought to himself. But something rather strange happened to this alternate Hogwarts as Matthew approached the school grounds. What should have been the quidditch lesson area and the whomping willow, and the Forbidden Forest, was instead an inky black void, with large tubes of light jutting into it from various windows. It was solid, and Matthew couldn’t pass through it. A good way away he could see the grass around the Black Lake.

“So I can’t go anywhere that isn’t reflected.” he deduced aloud. Matthew tried to relax his breathing. This was just another riddle, and he would have to solve it. And for that, he’d need to focus.

“Shut up, Barnaby!”

Matthew twisted around, noticing the images of Merula, Ismelda and Barnaby hanging in the air through a small shield-shaped window. A Prefect’s badge, Matthew thought before leaning in to take a closer look.

“What is it?” Barnaby asked quietly.

“I just...I thought I heard him...” Merula said, her violet eyes scanning the corridor.

“Who?” asked Ismelda, irritated at having to stop.

“Luther, of course!” she snapped. Matthew’s eyes widened. “He was saying something about reflections...”

“Yes, I’m over here!” Matthew yelled. He didn’t care how it had happened, he was just happy that it did.

Merula moved up and down the corridor. “Luther, where the hell are you?!”

Ismelda and Barnaby watched, both very much confused by all of this.

Matthew felt relief wash over him. “Merula, I’m-”

“I’m right here.” came his own voice. Coming into view from the side of the badge was Edwin, wearing his body.

“Oh, there you are.” she said stiffly. Matthew watched as Edwin flicked his braceletless hand at the badge, and he knew he had placed a Silencing Charm on it. Matthew could only pray Merula could sniff Edwin out.

“What’s got you so happy?” she asked with a scowl on her face.

“Oh, nothing really...” Edwin said absentmindedly. “Anyway, what did you want?”

“W-What did I want?” she asked incredulously. “You’re the one who called me over!”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” he said, shrugging. Matthew felt a surge of anger at him.

“Yes you did!” said Merula, exasperated.

Edwin cocked his head, then turned to the other two Slytherins, “Did either of you hear anything?”

“No, I didn’t.” said Ismelda.

“No, nothing.” said Barnaby.

“Well, there you go.” Edwin concluded, “Maybe you’re hearing things.”

“I am not!” Merula yelled, going slightly red.

“Sure. Whatever.” he said, running a hand through Matthew’s hair, “So, you going down to the lake later?”

“W-What? No...” said Merula, confused. Barnaby, however, nodded.

“I am! It’s gonna be great fun!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t care.” Ismelda sneered.

“Mm, it’s just that everyone is going to be there. And I thought, seeing as you can’t go to Hogsmeade, you’d want to go to a party when you could.”

Matthew felt his heart break as he saw Merula’s expression. This wasn’t fair. Nobody treated his mortal enemy like this, especially not someone like Edwin.

“F-Fine, I’ll go.” Merula conceded. “C-Come on, you two.” They stepped into the inky void, Merula wearing an expression that Matthew knew all too well. Fear.

“You could have been a bit nicer, Matt.” came a voice. Matthew realised just which Prefect’s badge he was looking through. And Edwin had no idea.

“Oh...I guess I could.” he admitted, “But I got her to go to the party, and isn’t that what matters?”

“It does if she doesn’t actually want to go.” said Bill Weasley, “You of all people should know that.”

Edwin shrugged, before heading into the void too. Bill must have followed him, for the Prefect badge vanished too. He had to get to the lake quickly, and find Merula and tell her what was happening. From there, however, he was at a bit of a loss. Maybe if he got the book back and managed to reveal the ink, he could find a way to return to his body. That would explain why he didn’t want me to get the book back, he thought. But before all that, he had to actually get to the lake in the first place. He looked up at the tubes of light which splintered the void. Matthew grinned. He’d had an idea, and it wasn’t half bad. He headed up towards Ravenclaw tower at breakneck speed, avoiding the void that appeared in corridors with less mirrors. Eventually, he found his way up to the door to the Common Room. The Eagle knocker looked up at him.

“You are here, yet you are not here.” it said. “Curious. Now, I am at the start of every race, the end of every Bludger, and in the middle of Paris. What am I?”

Matthew thought for a moment, before smirking. “R.”

The eagle nodded, before the door opened.

“Hmm, that’s odd.” said Rowan,as Matthew came in. “ Wonder why the door’s opened...” Matthew sighed as he and the other Ravenclaws looked up and saw right through him.

“I’ll tell you when I get out, Rowan.” he said. There was no reaction. Matthew headed up to his dormitory, where he found his Cleansweep resting against his four-poster bed. He reached for it, hoping, and while his left hand went straight through it, his right hand gripped the wood, the silver bracelet’s carvings glowing as it happened. Matthew grinned, before looking back at the mirror. In it, he could see the Black Lake out the window. He also saw the Cleansweep floating in midair. This gave Matthew another idea. He crept back down to the Common Room, and saw the Ravenclaws’ expressions of pure shock at a floating broom.

“Hey, isn’t that Matthew’s Cleansweep?” said Andre. Matthew couldn’t help but grin as he twirled the broomstick in his hands, causing it to spin. Then, he started to back up into the boys’ dormitory. Rowan, Andre, Tulip and Talbott all followed it until they came to Matthew’s four poster bed. He used the broom to wave at the four, then tried to make a beckoning gesture. After that, he hopped on and flew out the window, leaving them flabbergasted as the pilotless broom headed towards the lake.

It was an odd sensation, flying down a thin strip of the Hogwarts grounds, going over a small fraction of the Whomping Willow, watching students blip in and out of existence. He sped down the hill until he was over the lake, when he noticed a large gathering of students reflected in the water near the shore. He saw that there was a table with food laid out before them. He slowly moved down a few yards away, landing his broom and resting it against a nearby tree. He couldn’t risk Edwin finding out he was here again. Matthew shook his head. He had hoped that third year would be a little less eventful than last year, though he should have known that this would be impossible. Rueing his bad luck, he headed towards the party, not registering four Ravenclaws show up behind him.

“I’m so glad you all made it!” he heard Penny cheer, as the party got underway. At least, it did in the waters of the Black Lake. Matthew, meanwhile, only had a few feet of ground to work with before it gave way to the void. He saw people enter and exit the darkness, until he finally saw Merula. He knew he couldn’t just talk to her, as much as he wanted to. No, he had to find another way. Then, it occurred to him that he had Edwin’s guitar on his back. He set it onto the floor and undid the zip on the leather, before pulling it open.

For an acoustic guitar, it was pretty impressive. It had several magical runes on the wood, and the strings were a brilliant blue, just like the ropes which had pulled him through the mirror. He silently thanked his father for being part of a band when he was younger and pulled out the guitar, putting the strap around his shoulder. Even from here, he could see Edwin moving everyone’s groups away from the lake, especially Merula’s. Matthew had been where she was several times before, feeling like everybody knew how to act at a party except for you. Matthew gritted his teeth, moved towards the lake, both him and the guitar invisible, and started to play.

A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D…

***

Merula looked up, hearing the sounds of a guitar. It wasn’t a song she recognised, so she assumed it was some Muggle music. She could recognise the chords though. A A A A, D D, Em Em Em Em, D D… though she couldn’t see anyone playing. She walked through the students, ducking out of the way when she saw Matthew. He was talking with Chiara and Penny, but it didn’t look like how Matthew usually talked. Normally, he was reserved, quiet, a little hunched over. Not here. No, here it reminded her of some of the irritating sods in Preston’s gang. Merula scowled, before heading towards the music. Strangely enough, it seemed to be coming from inside the Lake… but that couldn’t be…

“Psst, Merula!”

She looked down into the water. There was her reflection, but next to it stood Matthew Luther, with a rune covered guitar.

“Don’t look at me!” he hissed, “Turn around and act like you don’t see me!”

Merula obeyed, turning on the spot. Secretly, she had been hoping for an explanation for his behaviour today; he had been amicable enough at first, but over the last few hours or so he had become rather cocky and boastful.

“Merula, that isn’t me.” he said, still playing the guitar, “That arse took my body!”

Her eyes widened. “He’s a changeling?!”

“If...if that’s what they’re called, yeah.”

Merula found it in her to smirk. “Really Luther, I forget how little you know about the Wizarding World.”

“It’s not my fault our Defence against the Dark Arts teachers have been rubbish.” he remarked.

“Eh, you’re not wrong there, they have been awful.” she admitted. “So how the hell did this happen?”

“Long story short: Some guy named Edwin appeared in the mirror saying he was trapped and needed help escaping.” Matthew explained, “I agreed, though I didn’t realise just how I’d be helping him.”

Merula stared at Edwin. Yes, she saw it now. It was like a Metamorphmagus had turned into him, or someone had used Polyjuice Potion. That’s why she’d felt so uncomfortable around him. Because it wasn’t Matthew. “So, how do we get him out?”

Matthew looked a little surprised. “Oh, I thought you’d suggest leaving me here.”

She laughed, genuinely, before shaking her head. “Luther, if I left you there this Edwin would have to be my rival. And I don’t like the sound of that at all. You’re my mortal enemy, Luther, and nobody gets to doom you for eternity except me.”

Matthew grinned through the water. “Thanks, Merula. Now, do you have anything reflective on you?” She shuffled through her pockets until she pulled out a silver comb.

“By the way, since when could you play guitar?” she asked, as Matthew appeared in the comb.

“Oh, my Dad taught me. I just know a few songs, though, not much.” he confessed.

“Alright...” began Merula, nervously moving towards the throng of students, “What do we do?”

“There’s a book in my bag called The Ramifications of Our Reflections.” Matthew explained, “It has some text in invisible ink that Edwin really didn’t want me to see, to our best bet is grabbing the book and finding out what it says.”

“Ah, so we’re stealing from him!” she declared quietly.

“Well, no, it’s my book!” Matthew yelled, before adding, “Well, it’s technically Snape’s, but he took it from me, so there.”

They neared the pile of everyone’s bags, and Merula bent down to grab hers, before manoeuvring towards Matthew’s satchel. Slowly, while eyeing the changeling, Merula bent down and grabbed the book, quickly placing it in her own bag. She took a sigh of relief, and quickly walked away.

“Now what?” she whispered, before seeing Ismelda.

“This party's boring. I’m heading back to the common room.” she declared.

“Good idea.” Merula said, walking with her.

“Don’t worry, she can’t see me.” Matthew reassured her, “Now all we need to do is heat up the book and we can see the information.”

Merula nodded as they headed away from the party, but they were stopped on their way back by Edwin.

“Hey, wh-where you going?” he asked, his usual cocky demeanour in full swing.

“We’re leaving.” Merula declared, “This party is boring, and you shouldn’t have invited us.”

Edwin stared at her for a moment. “Is that so.” he said, not even trying to make it a question.

“Yeah...I’m leaving now...bye.” she said, heading off. Ismelda looked at her, then at Edwin.

“Wow, she really doesn’t like you.” she said, “What’d you do to her?”

“I would worry more about what I’m going to do.” Edwin growled.

“Merula...” Matthew began, “Get to my broom. It’s right by the lake.” When she looked at the comb, confused, Matthew just shouted “GO!” and that got her moving.

She sprinted back down the hill, where she saw the Cleansweep resting by a tree. She grabbed a hold of it and saw Edwin racing after her.

“Just wait a minute!” he yelled, as Merula kicked off the ground. Matthew quickly put the guitar onto his back as the ground fell beneath them, and soon they were soaring over the grounds once again.

“Now how’d she know the broom was there?” Rowan asked aloud. “Matthew, do you-”

“Curse them!” Edwin bellowed, heading off after her, wand in hand. Ismelda hissed.

“Oh no you don’t...” she muttered, running after him. Bill stood nearby, very much concerned.

“Something’s going on here...” he deduced, before joining the chase. Of course, Merula and Matthew had the advantage of having a broomstick, which allowed them to get to the other side of the school in very little time. They ended up on the second floor, just above the Great Hall.

“Nobody uses these toilets.” Merula explained, “Myrtle’s always kicking up a fuss.”

They headed into the girl’s bathroom, which was oddly quiet.

“That’s strange.” said Merula, “I wonder where she’s gone.” Matthew appeared in a mirror near the sink.

“That was close.” he admitted, looking on as Merula pulled Ramifications out of her satchel. “Now all we need to do is heat it up and we’ll be set. Be careful though, we don’t want to set it on fire.”

“Right.” Merula said, placing the book on the ground. Matthew moved closer, appearing in a puddle of water. “Incendio Parvus!” A small flame appeared on the tip of Merula’s wand, which she moved down towards the paper. “Hey, it’s working!” she said excitedly.

“Great! Find the part about freeing people from mirrors!” Matthew implored, placing down the guitar.

“Okay, okay...” she said, flicking through the pages.

“Um...Merula...” Matthew began, “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Hmph...it’s...I mean, it wasn’t you, was it? It was that changeling who was the arse.”

“I know, but I made the deal with him...” he lamented.

“Yeah, I know, but...” she paused, looking over at Matthew’s puddle. “Oh come on. He gave you what you wanted, right?”

Matthew considered this. “Yeah. I guess he did.”

Merula smirked again. “What’d you even ask for?”

Matthew suddenly looked nervous. “I...um, I just wanted advice. We’d had that argument yesterday, and so I was just...I didn’t want to make things worse every time I saw you, or anyone else.”

Merula frowned. “Th-That’s it?!”

“Yeah...that’s it.”

She looked at him through the water, before bursting into laughter. “What?” he asked, more confused than ever.

“Sorry, it’s just...” she paused to wipe her hair out of her face, “It’s weird how little you trust yourself. I mean, you make friends all the time. I’m the one who can’t make friends and can’t go to Hogsmeade.”

Matthew frowned at her. “You don’t have to talk about-”

“It’s alright.” she reassured him. “I-I just...it’s my aunt. She says I’m not doing well enough in Defence against the Dark Arts.”

“But that’s not fair, the teachers are total tw-”

“I know that.” said Merula, “But my aunt thinks that I need to revise more...and she’s my legal guardian...so...”

“Merula, I’m sorry. You know...if you wanted to, I could give you a hand with...you know, studying and stuff.”

“Is that so?” she said, flicking through the pages with her other hand. “I don’t know...we’re mortal enemies. I don’t know how I’d feel about- Ah ha!” she exclaimed suddenly, “Freeing those trapped in the Reflected Realm! Bingo!”

Matthew craned his neck to see, but to no avail. Merula seemed to notice. “Oh, right, sorry. If a wizard or witch has been trapped within the Reflected Realm, they must be freed by breaking the contract forged between them and a changeling. To do this, one must return to the mirror of entry, destroy the surface they made the deal with and recite the phrase “Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.” From there, the changeling will return to the Reflected Realm once it touches any reflective surface.”

“Brilliant!” said Matthew, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Merula extinguished the flame. “Okay, okay! You remember the phrase, right?”

“Course. Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum.”

“Good. Where’d you make the deal?” she asked, packing the book away.

“The boy’s toilets. Sixth floor.” This caused Merula’s face to scrunch up.

“Look, it won’t be for long. Once I get to the mirror, we can leave right away and find Edwin.” he explained.

“...Fine. I’m gonna get you for this one day, Luther...”

“I hope you get the chance, Merula...I really do...”

A minute or two later, Merula had made her way to the sixth floor, and was standing right outside the boy’s toilets.

“C-Can’t I just wait outside?” she asked. Matthew nodded, before heading inside on his own, the guitar still on his back. He instantly came back out.

“I’m afraid you can’t, Merula.” he said nervously. Merula groaned, before poking her head into the room. Standing in the U-bend, in front of a large magical field, was the body of Matthew Luther, and the vile grin of Edwin.

“We meet again. I’m so glad I don’t have to hide from you anymore.” he said. Matthew sneaked into view on one of the nearby mirrors, glaring at the sphere.

“Listen to me, Edwin. I am the Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts,” Merula announced, “,and unless you vacate my mortal enemy’s body this instant, I will rain hell upon you!”

Edwin stared for a moment, before bursting into maniacal laughter. “Ooh, that’s a good one! I see why Matthew likes you!”

“I’m getting to that mirror, Edwin,” declared Matthew, “And you won’t stop me.”

Edwin pointed Matthew’s wand at Merula. “I somehow doubt that. I haven’t had a wand of my own in so long, I-”

“You still don't!” Matthew butted in.

“Silence!” Edwin yelled, sending Charm after Charm at the various mirrors. Merula watched as Matthew tried to mouth his words, before opting for a simple hand gesture. Merula pointed her own wand at Edwin.

“Sorry, I don’t take orders from you.” she sneered. “Flipendo!”

A burst of magic shot out of her wand at Edwin, who quickly moved out of the way, before yelling “Incendio!”, causing fire to leap towards Merula. She moved quickly out of the way, before pointing her wand back at Edwin, but he was faster. “Petrificus Totalus!” he shouted, sending a wave of paralysis at Merula, who felt herself fall to the ground. Matthew leapt towards the field of magic. He stepped through it, ending up on the other side with relative ease. Oh, the joys of the Reflected Realm, he thought to himself before reaching the mirror. Now he had to destroy it. He loosened his silver bracelet until it became a sort of fisticuff around his hand, and pulled back his arm.

“No!” roared Edwin, pointing Matthew’s own wand at him. “CRU-”

“Expelliarmus!”

Matthew’s wand flew out of Edwin’s hand over to the other side. Into the room came Rowan, Bill and Ismelda. But it wasn’t them that fired that disarming spell. It was Merula.

“It’s funny.” she said, “I never bought into that ‘wand chooses the wizard’ crap. But I think it well and truly has this time...changeling. Now, Luther!” she yelled, as the three newcomers looked around confused. Matthew took the bracelet and bashed it into the mirror. There wasn’t a scratch on the silver, but the mirror cracked into a thousand pieces.

“Contractus est inanis. Corpus meum!” he recited, as the several shards of the mirror began to glow. Blue ropes appeared between Matthew and Edwin, which snapped in two with a loud twang. Rowan pointed at the mirror.

“Matt! What are you doing in a mirror? With a guitar?” they asked, flabbergasted.

Edwin glared daggers at his double. “Matt...my guy Matt...” he snarled, wiping the hair out of his face. “If you think getting that mirror broken was difficult, you’ll have one hell of a time putting me back-”

“Glacius Maledictus!” Matthew yelled, having picked up his wand. His bracelet glowing, ice began to coat the floor of the toilets. Perfect Ice.

Edwin looked down at his blue reflection. Matthew looked back up at him.

“...It’s a fair cop.” Edwin admitted. He looked at Merula. “A very fair cop...You know what Matt, I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re no coward. You just needed a push is all. And here I am to give it to you.” he stepped forward to Merula, grinning. “It’s been fun. You’ll thank me later.” Edwin leaned forward. There was a great flash of light, and Matthew was pulled up from the ice and into the motion. When he opened his eyes, his lips were on Merula’s. Rowan audibly gasped. Ismelda actually stopped picking her nails. Bill took a deep breath, knowing what was about to come next.

“Uuurgh!” They both said, disconnecting instantly, Matthew bringing a hand from behind Merula and her placing her feet firmly back on the ground. They both, however, couldn’t hide their very red faces.

“Oh, that bastard!” Matthew groaned, wiping his mouth.

“Yuck, yuck, yuck!” said Merula, spitting onto the ground. Suddenly, they heard his laugh. Rowan pointed downwards. Inside the glass was a boy in denim and a flannel shirt, scowling.

“I was just the first of the monsters of the mirrors.” he announced, “There’ll be more, trust me! And when they get out, they’ll-” “Incendio.”

There was a horrifying screech as the ice suddenly melted, until the bathroom floor was covered in water. Then there was silence. Ismelda smiled, before placing her wand back into her pocket. “That’s for messing with my friends.” she droned, before turning to Matthew. She looked at him for a moment, before slapping him across the face. “And that’s for kissing Merula.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Matthew said, rubbing his cheek, which was red for a completely different reason to Ismelda. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures appear in the mirror for a moment, nod, then vanish.

“Ok, now can someone please explain what’s going on?” Bill asked.

“I can try.” said Matthew, stretching his jaw. Merula was still a bright pink, and was still wiping her mouth. “Was I really that bad?” he snickered.

“It was...just a surprise, Luther.” Merula said stiffly. “Don’t worry. I won’t slap you. Just don’t get any ideas.”

Rowan looked at them all, aghast. “Sorry, but are we overlooking the fact that Ismelda just killed a man?!”

***

“So, in summary...” said Dumbledore, sitting at his desk, “It’s been quite an eventful day or two for you, hasn’t it?”

Matthew nodded rapidly. They were all now in the Headmaster’s Office, along with Professors Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick.

“I am just glad that you are okay, Matthew.” squeaked the smallest wizard. “Changelings are very dangerous forces of nature.”

“I would like to remind Mr Luther,” sneered Snape, “That the next time he sees something unusual in the mirror, he is to come straight to a Head of House...and that goes for all of you, too.”

The students all nodded. “Well, if that’s everything,” said McGonagall, “I do believe you will all need sleep after a long day like this.”

“Minerva is correct.” said Dumbledore, “Though, if you have any questions or concerns...”

“Actually...” said Merula, “There’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why was I the only person who could see Matthew in the Reflected Realm?”

Dumbledore smiled. “Now that is a very interesting stroke of luck. You see, a very powerful Artifact of Protection can sometimes lend its protection to others around them. It is likely that Matthew’s bracelet,” he explained, leaning towards the boy, “Has seen your connection as the closest, and has decided to protect both of you. And perhaps, more. I imagine Mr Khanna was unable to find Edwin while he was in Matthew’s body for a reason.”

“So...what does that mean?” asked Merula

“It means you, Matthew, are Merula’s Artifactidal Guardian.” he declared. Matthew looked down at his bracelet. Was that why he gave it to him?

“Hang on...how much of a guardian?”

Dumbledore’s eye twinkled knowingly. “Enough of one, Matthew.” he said.

Merula looked at him, turning a little pink still. “What does- What do you-” But Matthew understood. He pulled out the sheet that the riddle was written on, as well as his pen, and began to scribble on the back of the parchment. Then, he gave it to Merula. She read it. Her jaw dropped.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I Matthew Luther, Artifactidal Guardian of Merula Snyde, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade.

Merula passed the letter to Dumbledore in silence, who read it and nodded. “Very well. Now, off to bed, chop chop.”

As they all walked down the stairs, Matthew felt Merula grab his shoulder.

“Thi-” she stammered, “Th-Thank you, Matthew. I don’t… You know, I-”

“Don’t worry about it, please.” Matthew said, smiling. “This changes nothing. You and I can still be mortal enemies.”

Merula grinned. “Gotcha.” she said, smiling. “Also...um...that was my first kiss.”

Matthew nodded. “Oh. Um...mine too.” He could see something flicker over her expression after that.

“Oh...well, I’m going to say it was with you, because if I don’t it would have been with Edwin, which is even worse.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Matthew said, a smile forcing its way onto his red face. “Well...there’s another Hogsmeade trip tomorrow...see you then...”

“Y-Yeah...see you then.” Merula said, before marching off. It took only a few days for them to get back to their usual bickering selves, but people noticed that for some reason they never argued and never insulted each other when they were in Hogsmeade. The few who knew why kept that secret close to their chests.

#aprilprompts2021 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fanfic #merula x mc #jacob's sibling #merula x jacob's sibling #ismelda murk #barnaby lee #rowan khanna #bill weasley #hphm mc #hphm oc

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penandpaperfic · 4 years

Text

watched episode 64 of campaign 1, had a lot of feelings, queued up the saddest songs on my writing playlist and wrote this in a rush. because who doesn’t want quiet, uncertain nights together in Whitestone?

ps - this is set during episode 64, so watch out for 1) spoilers if you’re still catching up like me and 2) mention of a certain dragonborn sorcerer. he’s not usually in the stuff i write, but i can’t really cut him out of this one

anyway. enjoy or ignore at your leisure:

She had thought, when the dragons took Emon and forced them all to flee, that it was by an immense stroke of luck Tiberius wasn’t with them.

She had thought, when he said his goodbyes and took a moment to wish her well, that they would see each other again.

She had thought, even when they heard three fourths of the Chroma Conclave had soared east, that he would be fighting back, wherever he was.

She had ignored the thought, deep in her heart, that he might not even be alive.

Percy asks a few of the Ravenites to take a body down, and he grabs her hand and whispers to all of them not to react. That in itself makes her want to react—and ask him what the hell is going on—but the look he gives her is more than stern: it’s desperate.

Keyleth shuts up, and watches.

He is frozen, and still, and lifeless. But he is undeniably Tiberius Stormwind from Draconia.

They do their best not to react. They really, really do. But a silence has fallen over their group, heavier than their uncertain glances at their uneasy allies so far. Keyleth looks around cautiously as they gather the body, and she knows that the Ravenites know. Tooma tilts her head toward her. There is no sympathy, but there’s a gravity to it. Keyleth lets her shoulders fall as she follows the others away.

Someone suggests the buried library, and really, there is no better place. Keyleth tries to channel her trembling into magic, into energy, as they clear away rock and ice and frozen, ruined books. They eventually make a suitable place for him—not good enough, but better than where he was. Where he had been slain, destroyed, made a symbol of—

Keyleth walks closer to the body and falls to her knees beside him. Why didn’t you tell us? she thinks. Why didn’t you talk about this part of your home?

Questions she’ll never know the answer to. There’s a part of her that’s angry. How was he supposed to be a leader when part of his people were slaves? But that thought hurts even more than the sight of him lying here, cold and still, so she shoves it away.

She reaches for his robes and tears a strip off. She winds it around her hand, tightening her fingers in the soft, fine, familiar fabric, and holds it to her chest. Beside her, Grog pours a glass of ale. Then, remembering something, he dumps it out to the side and fills the glass with water instead. He places it near Tiberius’s head.

Keyleth takes a shaky breath. She looks away from him, across the remnants of the library. There are some books still intact, still on shelves that are standing. There’s a little table with a fine leather chair and an unlit candle on its side. She imagines him sitting there, much younger, nose buried in a tome with the rest of the table covered in papers and ink. His flustered huff of a laugh when he caught on to something, or perhaps couldn’t quite find the answer he needed.

Keyleth shuts her eyes again and tucks the piece of robe away in her bag.

Vex places Lockheed on Tiberius’s still chest. The dragonling perks up with recognition, then mewls as Tiberius doesn’t react. He creeps up Tiberius’s chest to nibble on his chin. When there’s no other response, he deflates, curling slowly, sadly into a circle on his chest.

She can hear Vax’s quiet murmur of a prayer. Percy’s heavy sigh.

“Keyleth,” Percy says quietly. “Can you seal it?”

She sniffs. Nods. Pushes herself to her feet.

“Lockheed,” Vex whispers. The dragonling curls tighter on his chest. “Darling, please, you can’t stay here.”

He resists her. Vex kneels down and reaches out. She whispers something in Draconic. Lockheed raises his head and gives one last, long look at Tiberius’s face. Then he flutters to her shoulder. She runs a finger over his chest and walks out of the library.

When they’re all out, Keyleth raises her hands. She reaches out for the stone and pulls it down, sealing their makeshift tomb. As the stone falls, she falls with it. Snow seeps through the knees of her pants. She focuses on that, not the painful ache of her throat or the tears freezing on her cheeks.

A hand touches her shoulder. Vax, probably. Keyleth is about to shake him off, but the fingers flex, squeezing gently, and she realizes it’s smaller than she expected.

Vex.

She reaches up and covers Vex’s hand, welcoming the touch, clinging to her desperately. She feels Vex lower herself enough to speak softly beside her.

“He loved you well, Princess.” There’s a smile in her voice, as well as the tears. Keyleth feels her own lips curl. She sniffs and nods, holds it together for a moment before crumbling again. Vex’s hand tightens on her shoulder.

“He was so stupid,” she says back. Vex’s watery laugh sounds beside her. Keyleth wants to pull her down to hold her properly, but she resists the urge. Her head is starting to ache. She can feel the tight pull of her furrowed brow. “He should have never left our side.”

She doesn’t think it’s loud enough for anyone but Vex to hear, and Vex doesn’t respond. Keyleth swallows hard.

The party slowly picks themselves up. Vex helps Keyleth to her feet, but then drifts off. Percy is speaking to Tooma. Vax and Scanlan say their quiet, private goodbyes. Even Grog is subdued, standing with his head slightly bowed as he waits patiently for their next move.

They decide to plant their grove—their message, their means of returning—at the top of the ravine. Vex insists that Keyleth should save her spells and flies them all up instead, one by one. Keyleth climbs onto the broom behind her and wraps her arms tentatively around Vex’s waist.

Vex touches her forearm and presses it close. “Tighter, darling. Can’t have you slipping away.”

Keyleth lets herself hold Vex tighter. She presses her face to the space between Vex’s shoulder blades and breathes in, still shaky with tears. Vex squeezes her wrist once more, then pushes off the ground.

The tree grows easily, as does the portal. When they’re back in Whitestone, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Nothing has changed.

As they trudge quietly back up to the castle, Keyleth supposes that it hasn’t. Tiberius was dead when they left Whitestone, and he’s dead now. They already knew these dragons were ravaging the world. They just didn’t know it was this damn personal.

Percy leaves to go talk with Cassandra. Vax pats him on the shoulder before he goes, then murmurs something about a temple and drifts off. Grog declares he needs to find Pike and then get drunk. He offers his shoulder to Scanlan, who climbs up and goes with him.

Keyleth gazes after them. Maybe she should follow. Maybe she really, really shouldn’t get drunk tonight.

“Keyleth.”

She looks over at Vex, the only one still hovering. Lockheed is on her shoulder still, though he’s slumped so much he’s half-hidden in her hair.

Vex opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. She closes her mouth again and simply stares at Keyleth.

Keyleth wipes at her eyes. “I…”

Vex nods. They both look away from each other, and Keyleth takes it as a cue to leave. Just get the fuck out of here, it doesn’t matter where to. She turns down the closest hallway and, by some stroke of luck, makes it to her room without running into anyone else.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. She supposes that makes sense, since they weren’t gone that long. But two teleportation spells and nearly becoming slaves and building a tomb for her once best friend is still draining.

Keyleth stares up at the ceiling above her bed, nearly in tears again just out of the desperation to go to sleep. She turns over and buries her face in the pillow. Let it stop. Let her rest.

They’ve lost so much. They’ve caused so much destruction, and they’ve witnessed so much more. How long was Tiberius up there, made a spectacle in front of the people his kin enslaved? What had he thought, in his last moments? Who was with him? Who fell before him?

Did he think of them? Did he wish he had stayed? Was he glad they weren’t with him? Was he hoping they were somewhere out there, fighting the same threat, coming to save—

Keyleth shoves herself up from the pillow, gasping. She scrambles up until she’s sitting and pulls the pillow to her chest, squeezing so hard it hurts. She wants to scream. She wants to sob. She can’t do this. She can’t.

She stands up before she can tell herself not to. She makes her way out of the room and down the hall, past Percy’s chambers, past Vax’s, to the last door in this wing. She knocks on the wood, soft but quick, before the nerves tell her to turn around and go right back to her own room.

The door opens just enough for Vex’s face to appear in the crack. She’s mostly shadowed, but Keyleth can see her features soften.

“Darling.”

“I—I don’t—I can’t—” Keyleth forces herself to take a breath. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The door opens further. Keyleth steps in and out of the way so Vex can close it again. There’s no sign of Lockheed, except maybe the window Vex has left open. Keyleth sighs. Maybe he’ll like the mountains outside Whitestone. Hopefully he will.

Keyleth stays standing there, hanging in the dark room, not sure what to do or say now that she’s here. Her thoughts still won’t quiet. She brings her hands up and wrings them in front of her chest.

Vex steps away from the door and reaches for her. She takes Keyleth by the arms, then lets her hands slide down to Keyleth’s, parting them so she can hold them each.

“I’m sorry,” Keyleth whispers, not quite meeting her eye.

“For what, dear?”

“It’s late, I shouldn’t be—”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would’ve told you to leave.”

Keyleth nods. Swallows. Vex’s fingers tighten around hers.

“Come here, darling.”

And then she’s pulling Keyleth closer, into her arms, and leading them over to the bed. They sit, and Vex lets go of Keyleth so she can bring her hand up and tuck her hair back from her face. Her fingers run over her scalp freely, smoothing over the place where her circlet usually sits.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks Keyleth.

“I’m…not sure.”

Vex nods. She shifts so she can face Keyleth more fully. “He died protecting his people, Keyleth. I don’t think he would’ve wanted it any other way.”

“He would’ve wanted more time,” Keyleth whispers.

“We can’t always ask for that.”

She closes her eyes, but suddenly all she can see is Vex’s pale, pale face, deep in the tomb of the Raven Queen’s champion. She opens her eyes again and stares at Vex. She’s still pale, but her eyes are moving. Shining. Looking straight back at her.

“He should’ve stayed with us.”

“There’s no guarantee he would survive everything we’ve been through, either.”

“At least he wouldn’t have been slaughtered as a mockery to his country.” Keyleth clenches her jaw and looks away. “And those people. The Ravenites. He never told us…”

“I know.”

“How could he support that? How could he be okay with it?”

“We’re not sure that he was.” At Keyleth’s look, Vex sighs. “He was…he still had a lot to learn. Just like the rest of us. But that doesn’t change what was in his heart. He loved his people. And he loved us.”

“Does he know we feel the same way?” It’s out before she can stop it, and she flinches in Vex’s grasp.

But Vex just sighs and shifts closer. She rubs Keyleth’s arm and waits for some of the tension to ease away. “I think he did.”

“But he left.”

“I know. I know, and it hurts. But…I think he was right. Our paths were separating. It was the best thing to do, at least in his mind. And it takes courage to make that decision.”

“Or stupidity.”

“Or stupidity,” Vex agrees. She rests her head on Keyleth’s shoulder. “He had plenty of both.”

She can’t help it. A giggle escapes her lips. She feels Vex shaking against her arm, laughter or tears, she’s not sure. Both, probably. It doesn’t really matter at this point. She lifts her arm to wrap around Vex.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“For not telling me to get lost at the door.”

Vex raises her head to stare. “Keyleth. I would never.”

Keyleth meets her gaze, but just as soon as she does, Vex looks away again. She bites her lip and frowns. Keyleth squeezes the hand she’s still holding.

“What is it?”

Nothing.” Vex shakes her head. “I guess I’m just wondering why you didn’t go to Vax’s room.”

Oh.

Keyleth ducks her head and ignores the heat in her cheeks.

“I—I’m sorry, Vex. I know you…well, no, I don’t actually know how you feel. But I know you want him to be happy. And I just…I can’t.”

She feels Vex’s gaze on her again. “Keyleth. Are you apologizing for not having feelings for my brother?”

“Um. Yes?”

Vex laughs—an actual laugh this time. The tears are still behind it, thick in her voice, but when Keyleth looks up her eyes are brighter.

“Darling, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But Vax—”

“Is an adult, and can handle his own feelings.” Vex sighs and tucks a bit of hair behind her ear. “I know I was…I didn’t like the idea of you with my brother, but I didn’t like the idea of him getting hurt. I took both out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”

“…Oh.” Keyleth lets out an awkward, quiet laugh. “I mean, I understand why.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No. But…the apology does.”

Vex glances up at her. “Okay.”

Keyleth drinks her in. Vex is here. She is here beside her, breathing and moving and talking and looking at Keyleth. She thinks about telling Vex why she came to her door. Not just because she didn’t want to go to Vax’s, but because…

But that’s a confession that can wait. She knows she’s good at ruining moments, and today has been ruined enough.

Still, she can’t help but ask, “Can…can I stay here tonight?”

Vex nods before she even finishes asking. “Of course you can.”

Keyleth nods back. The tears are rising again, tight in her throat, and she has to drop her gaze. Vex touches her cheek, then reaches for her shoulders and gently guides her down to the pillows.

They curl up close on the too-small bed. Keyleth is reminded of their early, early adventures, back when they could only afford so many rooms at the taverns they stayed in. She lets her arm wrap around Vex’s waist and shifts closer. Vex kisses her forehead, then the rise of her cheek beneath her eye.

“Try to sleep, darling,” she whispers. “You did a lot today, and we need you tomorrow.”

Keyleth nods, then ducks her head. She feels Vex’s hand at the base of her skull, guiding her until she can rest her face in the crook of her neck. She breathes in. Vex smells of leaves and bark, of Trinket’s fur, of the polish she uses on her bows. Keyleth breathes out, and she feels the tears start to fall again.

Vex scratches gently, soothingly, at her scalp.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, her own voice rough again. “I’m here. We’re here.”

Keyleth flattens her hand against Vex’s back. Here. They’re here.

They’re here, they’re here, they’re here. She repeats it to herself, again and again, until her mind is nothing but numbness, and quiet, and Vex.

She falls asleep.

#vexleth #cr fic #if you want the full experience listen to farewell summer by abby gundersen on loop as you read #or at least during the second part #vex'ahlia #keyleth #vox machina #listen i just really mostly wanted to write keyleth going to vex's door instead of vax's #and also what vex says to comfort her at the tomb #they don't really get to be soft with each other ever so like...self-indulgence for the win #gosh i haven't impulse-posted writing in....geez idek when #years?#this ship is dragging me kicking and screaming back into fic writing and i love it tbh #rip to my last nanowrimo project but a girl has priorities #and those priorities are apparently a druid and a ranger who never got to fall in love

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rhetorical-ink · 4 years

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Rhetorical Ink Reviews: Seven Deadly Sins, Season Two/Three

** SINFUL SPOILERS BELOW **

My younger brother and I continue our journey with “sibling streaming” and watching the Seven Deadly Sins. My brother convinced me to skip the four OVA’s that Netflix refers to as “season two,” because he said they were mostly filler, and knows I’m not a fan of filler anime. So, with that said, we dived into the next season! Here are --

My Top Ten Thoughts on Seven Deadly Sins, Season Two Three:

10. Okay, so right off the bat -- if you had told me Hendrickson, the main villain of our last season, was immediately going to be back in the show, AND turn heel and join forces with the SDS and Holy Knights AND be a relevant part of the show...I would not have believed you. It’s one of the aspects about the season I do enjoy -- little surprises like that. I also like, despite being confused as to how it happened, that Hendrickson is placed in charge of Dreyfus’s son, who’s mysteriously reverted to a child-like state. It’s a nice visual and connection for those two characters, especially since Dreyfus has been possessed and unleashed arguably the best part of the season:

9. The Ten Commandments. I find it interesting that normally anime pit player vs player on even terms; though here, its 10 vs 7 really. I am a big fan of the weird designs of these characters. I’m not a fan of “little miss resurrection” above, but her plot line does lead to some interesting moments (detailed below), but I DO get a HUGE laugh out of her being charred for a short period when she returns later on in the season. It was a very satisfying moment.

In terms of my favorites, the pairs of Estarossa and Zeldrus are very cool, especially being Meliodas’s “brothers,” but probably my favorite duo is the Jesse/James “Team Rocket” equivalent that is Monspeet and Derieri. Monspeet’s suaveness is sooo deliciously villainous, especially in contrast to his counterpart’s aggressiveness. The group proves to be menacing as a whole and a nice villainous “squad” to take on our SDS group.

8. Ban’s utter devotion and love for Elaine has been one of my favorites in the series, and this second season has really upped the ante for how much I love their characters. King’s return to the Fairy Kingdom and Ban’s protection of Elaine was beautiful, and then we have “little miss resurrection” trying to revive Elaine and use her against Ban -- and yet, their love triumphed. It was so sweet to see them back together, and I appreciate that the anime, especially being a Shonen, lets them kiss and be a couple.

Of course, it all comes to a head when to save his best friend from losing his soul, Ban has to basically sacrifice the faux-revived love of his life. He vows to get her revived permanently, though, and I think I’m with the fandom in that I want this to happen so bad. If there’s any couple I root for in this show...it’s Ban x Elaine...well, them and:

7. Uh, yeah, so I hardcore love Diane and King in this show. I love how King’s character has gone from being a snot-nosed brat the first time we meet him to actually revealing his utter love of his friends and family. Diane and his relationship is SO SWEET and it’s been heartbreaking this season with all of the near-misses and moments where you think they’re going to be together, only for it to be completely upended. Besides Ban and Elaine, I’m really hoping these two characters can end up together. I mean, Merlin’s magic has made it to where Diane can be “human sized,” so why wouldn’t it work?! I love, though, that King loves Diane for who she is as a person, not by any definition of her physical self, similar to Ban’s love for Elaine. Maybe that’s why I ship them so hard, because the parameters of their relationship are so similar.

6. Oh, hey, remember in Season One, when I said Gowther was one of my favorites of the Seven Deadly Sins? Yeah, he was...until he basically wiped the memories of Diane (HOW DARE HE) and Gila’s little brother, and on multiple occasions nearly ruined the entire plot.

I love that Gowther’s character, along with Meliodas, turn out to be two former Commandments -- it makes sense with Meliodas being of the demon race himself, and Gowther’s basically a puppet, so of course he’s going to be on whatever side is controlling him more. Gowther is such a neutral, chaotic character -- but in the quietest, most subtle way possible. It’s something we don’t normally see, to see the chaos from a character being created in such a simple, cool fashion. Still, Gowther...you got some catching up to do before you’re back in my good graces after all the havoc you brought this season!

5. Then we have Escanor and Estarossa -- two seemingly invincible forces. I feel there’s going to be more with Estarossa in the next season, so I’ll wait to talk about him, but Escanor is both delightful and OP as all get out -- at least, when it’s noon, he’s nigh invincible. I love his little doting crush on Merlin -- two of the most powerful SDS’s, though they aren’t quite a couple like Ban x Elaine, Diane x King, or Meliodas x Elizabeth.

Still, it was impressive to see Escanor hold his own against Estarossa...rematch?

4. Speaking of couples, I would be remiss to not talk about Meliodas and Elizabeth. Yes, Meliodas is still sticking his head where it doesn’t belong...except, now we know he’s a demon...so I guess...that...excuses it points to why he’s like that? At least we get more of his backstory and of COURSE Elizabeth is a reincarnated goddess child that he keeps encountering and falling in love with...I’d say their coupledom is the most “creepy” to me, since he’s watched her since she was a kid...then again, she keeps reincarnating...so....what do we do with that?

I at least still like the angel and demon motif that’s set up between them.

3. Honestly, Meliodas’s confrontation with the Ten Commandments and then his later fight against Zeldras and the demon possessing Dreyfus were two of my favorite parts of this season -- I like that we’re seeing the always confident and smooth Meliodas literally confront his demons, and FINALLY, we get some confirmation that each time he’s brought back to life -- he’s cursed with immortality, kind of like Ban only worse -- he loses more and more of his compassion and “human-like” self and regresses back to his former demon state.

It’s an interesting twist, and one that I’m really glad the show made at the end of the season; the tension between Meliodas, Gowther, and the other SDS’s definitely made me want to see where it goes next season!

2. Oh, by the way, if you told me that I’d be ROOTING for Hendrickson at the end of season one, I would have said you were crazy. Yet, somehow, I was. I am honestly amazed that they took a main antagonist and did a complete 180 with him...and it worked.

What also worked VERY well was the moment that the demon Fraudrin, once separated from his host Dreyfus, realized that he was actually upset that Griamore wasn’t recognizing him as his father anymore, since he’d “played” the part for ten years. That scene was incredibly well done, and I actually felt sorry for the demon...of course, Meliodas ended up wiping him away, but it was one of the more well-executed (no pun intended) scenes in the season, and a great lead to the climax.

1. All in all, this season had higher highs than the last, especially towards the last three to four episodes, which I thought the last two were the best of the series so far.

That said, I still have problems with the show: It takes sometimes FAR too long to explain certain plot points -- nearly half a season later -- and some of the reveals seem a little forced or weakly explained.

My main critique is that no one’s death really feels “final.” Heck, Gustav, Jericho’s brother, was one of the only characters that legitimately died in the show so far that we’ve spent any time with. Yes, I know a lot of people, my brother included, were sad that Zhivago, Ban’s “Father” died, but I couldn’t find it as emotional because we spent so little time and buildup with him. It’s probably my only major concern with the show and getting invested, but I do still enjoy the characters and am curious to see what they will do in the season to come.

So, with Season Four about to be released on Netflix, it seems like good timing that I started catching up with this series!

Despite my frustrations with the series at time, the characters and their shenanigans do make me want to come back and see what happens to them! I’m sure it’s only going to get zanier from here -- let’s hope, anyway!

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Complexities Unknowable Chapter 3

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/57175900

Chapter Two link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/614327945408987136/complexities-unknowable-chapter-two

MasterPost

Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.

Warnings: Remus says some things (mentions of biblically accurate angels, gore art description), food mention, mild sleep deprivation, cursing. As always everyone is sympathetic. Roast me if I forgot something.

Word Count: 1,851

Remus was, once again, sitting on the counter in the light side kitchen. It was an ungodly early hour of morning, so the Commons were deserted. He was supposed to be waiting for Morality, according to the spiteful little plot Dee had offered him that he hadn’t listened to all that well, but he surmised it meant he was supposed to fuck with a light side, so… Duh. Of course he was in.

Truth be told, three out of four of the self-proclaimed ‘light sides’ hardly bothered him! They were stuffy prudes, sure, but their insults slid off his back like blood off of steel. As long as he was doing his own thing with Deceit alongside him, everything was fine (he was still pointedly ignoring the existence of another Creativity). But looks like what Deceit wanted to do was torment Patton into, like, repenting? Or something? Like he said, he wasn’t listening.

Anyway! Waiting and watching was what he was doing! And doodling, because sitting still was literally impossible in Remus’ experience. Thankfully, he soon saw the paternal trait springing down the stairs. Straightening his back, The Duke put on his best intimidating face (which he thought looked rather silly, but Deceit assured him was very unsettling). He set down his sketchbook and blurred his edges. It didn’t work very well up here, but it was a little trick that they’d all- Virgil included- learned years ago. Honestly, he just used it to get cheap scares every now and then.

Patton strolled into the kitchen, whistling some jaunty tune and holy shit , Remus had figured it was some shtick, but was he just a cartoon character all of the time ? That was- sure, very adorable- but mostly all the more entertaining to scare!

“What’s up, Dilf!?”

Patton shrieked, nearly dropping a mug. With wide, startled eyes, he found the source of the noise. Said source watched the emotional trait force his expression into something amicable, laughing loudly.

“Um- good morning, Remus! I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“That was the point, MoMo,” Remus replied, dragging his claws screechingly down the side of a cabinet; Patton winced at the sound.

“Can I help you with anything?” Read: Why are you still here? Sometimes Remus wondered if he was too good at his job!

“Nope! Just enjoying the atmosphere, sketching, terrorizing…” He flipped onto his back, throwing his arm out and presenting his open notebook.

“You draw?” Patton seemed weirdly happy about that fact, managing a more natural smile. Seemed he thought he’d found something to work with, but that was likely to change.

“Of course I do, I am Creativity, after all! Here .” He handed over the sketchbook with a Cheshire smile. The creative trait had ensured it was flipped open to a detailed depiction of a being composed of several flaming rings, all of which absolutely covered with bloodshot eyes. It had an indiscernible amount of wings that could only be counted as ‘too many’. In the center of the rings was a swirling black void (a type of ink that took Remus weeks to conjure properly, thank you very much).

He watched carefully as Patton studied the image, looking bemused.

“It’s an angel!”

That seemed to only confuse the moral side more, making him tilt his head to a few different angles to look at the drawing. But he still didn’t seem upset by it, oddly enough.

“It certainly is an interesting interpretation,” He responded at last, “and all of these little lines must have taken you forever, that’s so impressive!”

Truth be told, they had taken a while, and Remus was very happy that the effort had been noticed- but that wasn’t the point!

“That’s nothing,” he took the sketchbook back from Patton and flipped through more pages. Aha! This would fuck him up, for sure! A full-color illustration of someone hung up on a meat hook, rib cage pried open like a spike trap to reveal very painstakingly rendered organs. He was actually quite proud of this one.

The only response that Patton gave, however, was a slight wrinkling of his nose when he first saw it, followed by more quiet observation.

“What do you think?” Remus prompted, watching as Patton set the drawing back down on the counter and began to assemble things for breakfast, seemingly unaffected.

“I wish I could draw that well, but I’m still not super good at it,” he said admiringly.

“I had to crack open my own ribs to make sure it was accurate, you know!”

Morality yelped at that one- score one for Remus! Finally!

“You wanna see my re-imaginings of my favorite Final Destination deaths? I’ve painted some with real- well, conjured- but real enough blood!”

But Patton didn’t even flinch this time; he looked more determined even!

“Art is a healthy outlet for expressing yourself,” he was almost certainly parroting Logan there, and he even seemed to believe the statement. Perhaps Remus would have to be a little more creative to get more reactions.

. “I agree! I didn’t expect you to have such an open-minded point of view. I’ll be sure you’re the first side to know when I make my next amateur taxidermy sculpture! Emphasis on the amateur!”

“Great!” Patton practically shouted, very stubbornly staring at the stove.

Before Remus had the chance to continue, the distinct sounds of Logan and Roman arguing their way downstairs met his ears, and he cut himself off. That was enough for one day, he decided. And anyhow, he looked forward to trying new ways to bother Patton next morning.

Deceit rose into the shadows of the Light Side commons with a smirk. It was an awful hour of the night, which was part of the plan. Not only was Patton the first awake in the morning, he was also often the last to sleep. Deceit supposed that Logan was looking after Roman and Virgil’s sleep schedules nowadays, which made it much easier to catch the artificial patriarch alone. That isn’t to imply that Dee had been tracking their schedules or anything, but the overwhelming lie that Morality surrounded himself with made him easy to track- especially in the night, when he had to pretend even harder that he was fine without the presence of his little family. Deceit entertained the idea that he should feel bad for the side, and maybe he did somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down. No, further than that.

Regardless of any such feelings, he was here to mess with Patton. Still unnoticed, he watched quietly as his target scrolled through Netflix, illuminated only by the dim glow of the television. The side looked so tired that he could’ve passed as a corpse, but gave a tiny smile after finally selecting whatever it was he was going to watch.

Wait. Wait. He was watching that ?

Deceit stared at the unmistakable green text that was the intro to The Good Place playing across the screen. If there was one thing he was expecting Patton to watch (Cartoons? Friends reruns? Slime videos?), it wasn't his own favorite show.

“Hm.” Deceit hummed.

In response, Patton shrieked and fell halfway off the couch. His head darted around until he finally spotted Deceit, who had slid down to sit on the sofa as well.

“Oh- um- good evening, Deceit! Wow, today is just full of surprises!”

“ Surely you won’t mind if I join you? This is one of my favorite shows, after all.”

Patton fixed his position so that he was no longer partially on the floor and looked the snake up and down. He paused the episode.

“ Really ?”

“Really,” and then, after some trepidation, “Honestly.”

Suddenly, Patton lit up dramatically, a happy smile stretching across his face. Fuck, wrong direction, Deceit wasn’t supposed to be cheering him up!

“I’m surprised that someone like you would like it,” Deceit continued hastily. Patton’s smile fell a little and he tipped his head in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean ,” He lounged back against the couch, “I didn’t think you’d approve of a show where all of the characters are such bad people .”

“What?! The whole point is that they aren’t bad!” Good, Back on track .

“Oh? Then what are they? Last I checked, the main character was very selfish .”

“I- okay, I see what you’re trying to do,” Patton turned to face Deceit entirely, “But they’re- they also-”

“Also what ?” Deceit was also sitting sideways on the couch now, his eyes glinting. He was certain that he’d talked the trait into a corner, which was why he was so utterly unprepared for Patton’s response.

“It’s, like, they all start off not great, but that’s because they were all set up for failure before the afterlife! They had it hard before dying, but when they were finally given the chance to actually get better, then they got better! They aren’t perfect , but they care about each other! And I think it really shows that sometimes, somebody can be wrong over and over and over again, but that doesn’t mean that they’re hopeless, or that they’re a bad friend, or…” He trailed off, looking down at his lap and blinking very quickly. “Or that they’re a bad person.”

Suddenly, Deceit wasn’t that sure that he wanted to see Patton upset anymore.

After a very uncomfortable silence that lasted far too long for his liking, the scaled side realized that he should probably be the one to say something.

“That’s… a very in depth analysis, Morality. I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“Thanks,” Patton replied. When he looked up, his eyes held an odd recognition. It was a look that no Light Side had ever given Deceit, but they gave it to each other plenty of times. The side in question wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure knew that he was uncomfortable.

“So… The show…” He prompted.

“Oh, right!”

Patton pressed play.

Deceit had planned on doing some more provoking of Patton as they watched, but he found himself rather caught up in the program. The conversation he did end up making with the other incidentally slipped into chatting about their shared views on the show. It was almost nice. Maybe. Whatever.

After a few episodes, Deceit elected to return home for the night. As he was sinking out, he heard a sleepy voice bidding him farewell.

“G’night, Kiddo.”

He popped up in his bedroom after that, eyes quickly landing on a half-asleep Remus half-watching Saw 4 . The lights were dimmed to a glow, and the TV’s volume was so low that it might have been inaudible to anyone other than the more animalistic sides.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Deceit murmured warmly, sitting beside his fellow Dark side. The trait yawned and rubbed his eyes, instinctively leaning into him.

“Wanted to,” he responded, voice groggy, “How’d it go?”

Deceit snapped his fingers to change into sleep clothes, reaching across Remus to flick off the lamp. As he settled in to semi-watch the movie, fingers automatically moving to card through his partner’s hair, he carefully considered the question.

“Fucking. Weird.”

Chapter 4

Tags: @deceits-left-glove @princemesscharming

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annaraebananawriter · 4 years

Text

A Found Family

Yellow again everyone! Here again with another oneshot. Has anyone noticed that all of my oneshots have been centred around Dream? I don’t know why. Although, I do have a couple planned that don’t include Dream.

Also, this particular oneshot was inspired by @mutated-bunnies post about Dream with wings and @dragonfruiteen post about Blue grooming his wings. Give both of these people love, they deserve it!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale and Underswap

Characters: Dream (Who belongs to Joku), Blue and Strech (Who both belong to P0pcornPr1nce)

Warnings: None that I can think of, just pure fluff

Word Count: 2224

~oOo~

It was well known among his friends that Dream didn’t take care of himself.

He was on the run most of the time, so he couldn’t. He barely ate, either, as he relied on the positivity from the AUs he visited. That sustained him enough. He barely slept, too. It was rare to see him taking a nap, though if he did it wouldn’t be long and would most likely be on Blue’s couch.

Most importantly, however, he didn’t take care of his wings.

Yes, he had wings. They weren’t just rumours. They were small, though, so he mostly had them hidden underneath his cape. He could fly with them, but only for a short while. They found that out thanks to Ink.

His wings were a mess. Feathers tangled and uncomfortable, though he learned to ignore it. He rarely slept on his wings for the reason of not making it worse. Somehow, it gets worse anyways.

So, no, Dream did not take care of himself at all. Can you blame him? He’s too busy taking care of Nightmare and the Multiverse to give a damn about the state of his health and wings. It wasn’t that hard to understand.

This is what he was trying to get Blue to see. They had argued about this before, but Dream always won in the end.

Now, this argument was different. Blue was done listening to ‘excuses’ apparently.

“Just because you’re busy a lot,” his friend immediately shot back, arms crossed and foot tapping, “does not mean you can’t take a break for a few minutes!”

Dream huffed.

They had been at this for a while. He knew that Blue was getting frustrated with his lack of care to himself recently (it was quite hard to ignore). His friend had a habit of building up his concerns until they burst. Today was that day.

The minute Dream had come back from a battle with Nightmare, Blue had confronted him. Blue’s brother, Stretch, had been entering the room at the time and had frozen, recognizing the incoming lecture/argument from the times it was directed at him. Stretch had then said he would be back and left Dream to his fate.

The Papyrus was probably laughing to himself about it now.

Dream didn’t like being worried about. This was a main issue as to why these arguments even existed. Blue and him had different views as to what friends should do. Blue believed that friends do whatever they can for the others, especially if it’s that one friend who is always overworking himself. Dream, on the other hand, believed that friends don’t pry into the lives of the others, respecting their privacy, especially if it’s that one friend who is the mom of the group.

The other thing was, Dream knew that Blue was right. Blue knew he did too.

Should Dream just give up his fight? Probably.

Will he? Absolutely not.

Why? Because a trait that he and his negative twin shared was that they are both stubborn. They would be in favour of keeping their pride than giving in and accepting help. This trait is probably the reason for most of their problems.

So, Dream was going to fight this to his last breath.

“Blue,” he began, wings puffing a little in anger. Blue had wrestled his cape away from him too and was currently holding onto it. He felt naked without it, but he persevered. “you are asking me to stay here for a whole day, which, need I remind you, threatens your AU, and sleep for at least three hours—”

“I was thinking more like eight, the healthy amount of sleeping hours.”

“—three hours,” he ignored Blues interruption, “and eat a whole meal.” He looked at Blue with pleading eyes. “You know I can’t stomach that much food.”

Blue’s eyes softened a fraction and he sighed, setting Dream’s cape on the arm on the couch. “I know. But, Dream,” he gazed at Dream with his own pleading eyes, “you can’t continue like this. You’ll burn out. Then what’ll happen?”

“I—”

“You won’t be able to fight. Which will hurt you more than fighting would.” Blue clasped his hands together and bowed his head, eyes gazing at Dream even more pleadingly. “Please? Just today, that’s it.”

Dream hesitated. He wanted to argue more, continue fighting for the win. But Blue never did this before. He never pleaded. And Dream knows that if he continues to say no now that Blue will be defeated. He’ll resign himself to never asking again.

He didn’t want to make Blue disappointed. Besides…one day couldn’t hurt, right?

Dream sighed, sagging in defeat. “Fine.” Blue lit back up, beaming. Another thought entered Dream’s head and he panicked a bit. “But Nightmare—”

“Ink will handle him.” Blue grabbed Dream’s hand and pulled him to the bathroom, where a pile of clothes already waited. A bath was run that still looked surprisingly warm. Blue had prepared to win.

Dream still protested weakly. “But—”

Blue smiled and patted Dream’s shoulder. “He will, don’t worry.” A glint was in Blue’s eye that made Dream shiver. “I’ll make sure of it.”

With that, he turned and left, locking the door behind him. Dream blinked a bit at the door.

Sometimes, Blue scared him.

He sighed and looked to the bath. It would be nice to have one, he supposed. He couldn’t remember the last time he did have one. Probably back in the village, if he had to guess. Smiling slightly, he stripped and put one foot in the bath. The water was the perfect temperature.

He entered the bath fully, shifting a bit when his wings got wet. It was a bit of a shock, at first. He leaned back a bit, resting his head against the wall. He usually never had time for a bath, relaxing as it was. It distracted him from all of his other duties.

…Blue was right. He did need this.

Dream sat there a while longer. This was the most relaxed he’d ever been. Eventually, he started to clean himself and his wings. Once satisfied, he hopped out, unplugging the bath. He scrubbed himself clean and gazed at the clothes Blue had prepared for him.

It was a yellowy-orange sweater and some gray sweatpants. Comfy clothes.

Once dressed in those, he took a deep breath and began the process of drying his wings. Whenever his wings got wet, the feathers got all clumped together. This was no exception. It was fine though. He could live with it.

After he was done with everything, even though his wings were a bit damp still, he unlocked the door and exited.

Blue met him at the end of the stairs. He took Dream’s hand and pulled him to the couch, sat him down and left for a minute. He returned with a single taco. Dream felt nauseous even looking at it. He gazed up at Blue when he handed him the plate. “Blue—”

“You don’t have to eat it all,” Blue reassured him, immediately knowing what the guardian was thinking. “just pick at it and eat what you can. I’ll eat the rest.” He then grabbed a blanket and sat beside Dream, wrapping it around them both.

They turned on the TV and settled down to watch a rerun of a cartoon Alphys had given Blue called ‘Voltron’. She had found it in the dump and said it reminded her of the training guard. It was pretty good, with some good jokes.

Dream managed to eat a good corner of the taco before he felt full. He gave the rest to Blue, who happily took it, giving Dream a sympathetic smile as well. His friends ate the rest of the taco as they finished the episode.

After some time had passed, Dream felt Blue staring at him. Looking over, Dream caught Blue’s eye.

“What?” Dream asked, tilting his head a bit.

Blue glanced away to his wings before looking back to Dream. He did that a couple more times before eventually looking Dream in the eye. “Can I groom your wings?”

Dream blinked. Once. Twice. That was unexpected. “…why?”

Blue looked frustrated at that. “You never groom them! You let the feathers get all bunched up!” He put a hand on his chest. “I, for one, think they would look pretty once groomed.”

Dream paused. He supposed the other was right. He never did groom his wings, just let them do whatever they wanted to do. In fact, he can’t even remember if he ever did groom them. Probably not. He’s always been on the run. He never had time too.

It must feel good. “…sure.”

Blue looked at him with surprise. “Really?”

He sighed and nodded, smiling when Blue’s excitement came into focus quickly.

They then shifted on the couch to accommodate the activity. It was tight, but somehow, they got it to work. Dream laid down on his stomach, this way his wings could stretch a bit. Blue sat underneath his legs, twisted to face Dream, which wasn’t as uncomfortable as it sounded, so that the wings didn’t hit him in the face. It was a bit of a reach for Blue to reach all the feathers, but he managed.

Dream startled at the first touch. It was new. Yet…as Blue continued, it grew to be very relaxing, even more so than the bath. It was a constant little thing that sent tingles up his spine. He felt himself relax into the couch, the TV and Blue’s breathing tuning out.

He yawned a bit and found his eyes slipping close.

~oOo~

Blue smiled when Dream fell asleep.

He had a feeling it would happen, though he wasn’t sure. He had been talking to a few of the monsters that had wings about grooming them so he knew what to do and they all said it was pretty relaxing. Relaxing enough to put someone to sleep.

He did plan all of this. The bath, the clothes, the taco, the show, everything. It was all so that he could groom his friend’s wings and put him to sleep.

Because god knows the other needed it.

It both saddened and angered him that Dream had to go through this. Brothers shouldn’t treat each other like this. Yes, he got upset with his own brother, but that would never mean he would want to kill him.

Unlike Nightmare. He knew that something happened between them that he will probably never be told, but that was no excuse. Dream still refused to kill Nightmare, who could care less if his twin died. It sickened him. Dream deserved far better.

Which was where this day came from.

He was glad that his plan had worked. He was very glad that Dream agreed to it in the first place. He also knew that he would do another one of these in the future. He just had to. Dream deserved it.

With these thoughts still swirling around his head, Blue fell into a light sleep.

~oOo~

Stretch sighed as he returned home.

He had been ordered by his brother to stay away for the day. It had something to do with Dream, he knew that, so it was fine with him. He knew that the guardian had been running himself ragged a bit recently. So, he left Blue to his devices.

He opened the door and closed it again, turned to the living room and paused.

The first thing Stretch noticed was the TV, stuck on the menu screen for that season. He subconsciously reached for the remote and turned it off. He then turned to the couch.

The second thing he noticed was the cape that Dream always wore on the arm. It stricked him a bit odd, but then his attention was directed to the two skeletons on the couch, the third thing he noticed.

His brother and his friend were laying on the couch. Dream was laying on Blue’s chest, an arm hanging off. He was also drooling a bit, a wet spot growing on Blue’s shirt. In return, Blue had his arms wrapped around the guardian. Their legs were tangled together and Dream’s wings laid on top of them both.

It was a cute scene. Too cute to resist taking a picture of.

After the picture was taken, he looked to the blanket on the floor. Taking the fuzzy green thing, he carefully draped it over the sleeping pair. Hesitating a bit, he then kneeled beside them.

He first gave a kiss to Blue’s forehead, making his brother shift in his sleep. Then, his gaze went to Dream. He knew his brother viewed the guardian as another brother. It was obvious whenever he looked. And if Blue thought that way about Dream, that Stretch did too.

He wasn’t lying, either. He knew what the guardian’s own brother had done to him. He didn’t like it, perhaps even disliked it more than Blue did. Dream deserved a loving family, and brothers that wouldn’t abandon him.

“You’ll always have a family with us, Dream.” He whispered to the sleeping guardian. He gave a second kiss to Dream’s forehead, who shifted in his sleep also, snuggling more into Blue.

Stretch smiled at his sleeping brothers before sitting down to watch over them.

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #dreamtale #underswap #dream sans #Underswap sans #underswap papyrus #this is one of the fluffiest things I've written #fluff

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