#it's the exact contrast you see in so many bad boy romances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaypeace21 · 4 years

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i'm losing hope of byler being an endgame :( milevens say that we are invalidating mileven, besides having several scenes that they show "passion/love". they make fun of us, besides always giving reasons why mileven is an endgame, and disrespecting other people's ship, and maybe actually Will will be with another boy right?? idk but I really hope I'm not being deluded

lol lets not focus on byler for a sec and mostly discuss mileven. what scenes show mileven’s ‘passion/love’? Because the show invalidates mileven constantly-why they’re so aggressive/afraid of us.THEY KNOW IT’S DOOMED (they live in head canons and nothing else). I’m going to try keeping this short by doing bullet points.

-The writers in s3 threw in a telemarketing joke just for Mike to say “El. no. sorry not interested” and hang up the phone.

- Flo in s1: “only love makes you that crazy and that damn stupid.”

Mike: “if we’re both going crazy. we’ll go crazy together right?”will: “yeah, crazy together “ *smile and stare longingly at eachother *————————————————————-Mike: “they do say it makes you crazy”El: “what makes you crazy?”(the exact opposite of crazy together as she continues to be confused over every explanation he gives of love 😂)————————————————————-During the byler fight Mike says “el’s not stupid!” After this, Will calls himself “ so stupid “ 4x . rips up photo where they said they’d go crazy together and cries . But, El after fighting with mike happily says: “there’s more to life than STUPID boys .” El’s catchphrase being “not stupid” which she says in s2 before going to see Mike at the school. And Nancy before Mike says he loves El / Mikeduring the byler fight (about mileven) say “El’s not stupid!”

original gifs sources

-the s3 stobin confession parallels mileven’s s3 shop confession (full analysis in link). Both El/Robin have bandages on their legs and both pairings sit together (on the floor) during their confessions- and are interrupted by Dustin. And in both straight baits- the guys use the terms “stupid/crazy” but subvert the expectation of it being romantic-as both girls say they’re not “crazy” or “stupid” for the guy. El saying “what makes you crazy?” in response to Mike. And Robin saying she was not into Steve’s “stupid hair” (similar to El saying there’s more to life than ‘stupid boys’/other saying she’s not stupid.”Also the song ‘the first i love you’ only plays twice in s3. During Steve’s romantic confession and robin rejecting him because she’s gay & El’s romantic confession and awkward kiss with mike (where Mike doesn’t reciprocate). Cause Robin/Mike are both gay and will reject the romantic confession.

- Erica making he-man and barbie kiss: “Hey , They’re in love!”Lucas (livid- and standing right next to a rainbow forcing them apart): “No, actually, they’re not. they’re not even from the same planet.” El even watches he-man in s1! Mileven is not in love!

Cue El and mike being compared to ET and Eliot -WHO AREN’T FROM THE SAME PLANET (by the Duffers in multiple interviews and in the pilot script ) . And then there’s the old euphemism of “girls come from Venus, and boys come from Mars”. The Duffers saying mileven isn’t in love cause they’re not from the same planet (aka the same gender) -is just them telling us Mike is gay so he can’t fall for El-who is a girl/diff species. They literally have Will say to Mike “welcome to my world” as a contrast. So El telling mike he should ‘stick with his own species’ (aka boys) is another gay hint.

In s2 they even had El wear the same shirt as a 1986 movie character (staring Winona Ryder). The movie is called coincidentally “lucas”- and he’s in an unrequited romantic relationship with a gal named maggie. And he later says him and Maggie are from “different worlds.” El being movie-Lucas in a unrequited romance, in this scenario. And the other easteregg is the Duffers have st-Lucas say the “planet/worlds” similar to movie-Lucas.

some milevens also attribute romeo/juliet to mileven cause Dustin mentioned it while mileven was out of shot. But romeo & juliet weren’t actually in love-it was just kids in infatuation. And also used to describe the unrequited infatuation of Lucas/Maggie.

-Also when dustin in s1 says el is “like a wizard” (like Will.) Mike corrects dustin and says “more like yoda”. Really hammering down the alien references- which the Duffers reference to el in interviews all the time-by comparing her to et . In the pilot they even said mike and el are like “Eliot and et.” They said they made el dress like a ghost cause et did so- and then for the extra burn they made mike a ghost hunter/buster. And they also said that EL’s makeover in s1 was like et’s in the movie. And sorry ... who compares the girl they “crush on” with a green gross alien (yoda)- kind of shows how he sees her more as this foreign superpowered entity rather than a girl/crush. And on what planet is et /Eliot romantic??Answer is -it’s not.

- In contrast, They have Mike and Will parallel Diane and Venkman. In ghost Busters, Mike -is Venkman- and Will -is Dana Barret- who Venkman flirts with shamelessly until she is possessed. Dana finds a demon-dog in her fridge, and hires the ghost busters. And right before Venkman goes on a date with her she is possessed by the big-bad, Zuul, and is transformed into the gate-keeper (who controls demo(n)-dogs). Venkman proceeded to try to talk to the real Dana , ignoring her possessed form and eventually realizes how serious her condition is, is forced to sedate her. Eventually with the help of his team, Venkman closes the gate to Zuul’s dimension, rescuing Dana in the process. And Venkman plants one on Dana before riding away in triumph. While, El is a ghost and Mike is a ghost hunter XD

Notice in the same season lucas says mileven is ‘not in love’ and compares mileven to he-man and barbie . Dustin has a he-man & Et next to each other (along with a ghost buster sign above them, and the ghostbusters-trap next to et). This just reinforces the mileven eastereggs I’ve already talked about - and how they want you to make the connections about mileven not being in love. They showed et/barbie next to he-man, had El watch he-man, compared El to Et (who had a barbie-like makeover/ghost costume), so the next he-man ref of ‘not being in love’ cause rhey’re from different planets would connect in a more obvious way to mileven. Same with Et next to the ghost trap and ghost busters sign (and El dressing as a ghost and Mike as a ghost buster-as an extra burn).

- Mike dehumanizing El is hammered down again when they compare s1 mileven to s2 dart /dustin (a demo dog) , to further show how un-romantic it is. Fin even said the duffers told him Mike saw el (OFFENSIVELY) as a “puppy’ (right after s1). And of course millie accurately said “what a horrible way to describe me!”But the parallels are there: Dustin/Mike sharing sweets ( nougat vs eggos) for breakfast and saying they’ll have to wait for them to come home from school. And having mike annoyed, say “a bond? cause you shared nougat?!” is dissing milevens who think the ego thing is cute/romantic. Dustin/Mike saying they ‘promised’ to take care of them and that they ‘trust’ dustin & mike. Dart killing a cat and El almost killing a cat. Dustin/Mike trying to convince Lucas- Dart & El aren’t bad. The boys thinking both El & Dart were bad guys causing both to end up running away because of that. Mike even admits in s1 he doesn’t like eggos and told El she doesn’t have to eat “like a dog” anymore. it’s ironic when Mike says to Dustin “she’s not a dog” cause he treated her as such. Why El says in s3 angrily , “am I your pet?” It’s because he did/does unfortunately treat her this way to some degree.

-They Parallel Mileven to Hopper & El (since mileven isn’t actually romantic)!

*teaching the meaning of promise vs com-promise. And making “promises” to eachother is not some super romantic thing- for just mileven.

* Telling her to eat “real food” vs eggos

* saying her new look is “cool”and saying it’s “bitchin” after El says the look is.

* Saying others are “corrupting her” and in response gals say neither respect her ability to make “decisions” in regards to romance. Hopper not accepting Mileven together (want them to break up) and Mike not accepting she dumped him.

* Max saying to not let Hopper/Mike control her

*El saying “you lie” to both of them

ok , back to listing other points

- they dance to ‘every breath you take’ a break up song about a stalker ex who can’t accept he is now with her friend. The writer of the song also has said many times “it’s NOT a love song.” The duffers obviously knew that. Lumax also danced to it and Lucas was called a ‘stalker’ . El also stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike says he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 he said not to do that and she just says ‘i make my own rules’.Plus, sting (the singer) mentions it’s supposed to sound romantic but the lyrics are sinister. And that the ambiguity/deceptive happy -romantic tone was intentional. Kind of like how people think mileven is healthy and in love when the show (ambiguosly says ) that it’s not -and the “opposite”.Just like the song being misinterpreted as romantic because of its deceptive packaging -mileven is the same . Mileven got popular cause everyone missed all the warning signs it wasn’t healthy (cause it was packaged as ‘cute’ and ‘ in love’) when behind the surface it was shown to be the opposite and not healthy.

Not to mention Nancy teaching Dustin how to dance is a direct parallel to Mike teaching El.

Mike also tries to act like Dustin, and forces Will to dance with a girl (who’s wearing a rainbow hair clip). Trying to be a good sport like Dustin is about lumax. And right after this we see Dustin look sad about Max/Lucas dancing and Mike (next to Dustin) look sadly at Will/girl dancing in the same exact frame as Max/Lucas. As they switch between these 2 shots to emphasize their sadness/jealousy.Then they both sit down (mirroring each other) on the verge of tears before Nancy and El show up to comfort them and distract them. As El once again (presumably) wears Nancy’s dress. Mike after El asks “will you be my brother?” “you cant go (to the snowball) with your sister... i mean you can but it’d be really weird.”

- before their first kiss in s1 she asked if he would be like her brother (after being compared to a cousin, and being compared to Holly, and wearing Nancy’s dress.) In s2 they even make a direct parallel to Luke &Leia (who were siblings who had a weird romantic relationship/kissed before realizing they were related). Mike (as Leia) saying “it’s a trap” to El (Luke).

- Mike in s1 writes a d&d story for Will inspired by star wars. in ep one Will tells Mike “it was a 7, the demogorgan it got me.”At the end of the season Mike writes a whole story of him and his friends killing a 7 headed monster, and showing the decapitated head of the monster to king Tristan (Will). Similar to how at the hospital he tells Will to not worry cause “it’s dead now”. This is right after Will rolls a 14 (cause Mike and Will are 7s together). And Mike who is a fan of starwars has King Tristan give them medals after killing the monster. Cause he wants Will/king tristan (instead of Leia -a girl) to present him with medals and be his romantic love interest (and praise him for being a hero).

- They had Dustin call mileven “bullshit” just like stancy (who were never in love). And in s3 for almost every single character in the show to dislike mileven . if that isn’t a cry for help from the writers idk what is XD

other stancy parallels: Making out on a bed to cheesy music. stancy wasn’t in love but they kissed the most in the series and nancy and steve (similar to mileven exchanged ‘i love yous’) but weren’t endgame and it was never love. Mike and Steve sing to their gfs and neither girls are fans and cut them off.In s1, both Nancy/Mike slap Steve and El and then both yell “ What is wrong with you?!” Stancy/mileven are compared to Karen/ted who according to Nancy “never loved each other”. El is a fan of ted’s lazy boy. (Karen in s3 looks at Ted in the chair when the lyric “I should have walked away “ plays). And Steve and ted continuing to eat chicken as their gf /wife storm off from the table upset , and they do nothing. After the mileven and Karen/Ted fight- Steve says while eating “what did I do?what did i do?” And mike while eating says about el after their fight “what did i do wrong? what did i do wrong?!Steve and Ted both tell Mike to “stay on the bench/you’re on the bench.” Karen/ ted that they “never loved each other” (just like mileven and stancy which are “bullshit.”) All 3 wheelers were with people cause it seemed like the rational choice ( rich guy/ popular guy/ girl). Not to mention mike said “ I don’t remember” ( in reference to saying he loved el ) . And doesn’t say it back when el says “I love you”. Which mimics Nancy in s2 saying “I don’t remember ” (saying the stancy relationship is bs) . And she is also unable to say she loves Steve when he says“say you love me.” And Steve and el walking away as both wheelers stand there in silence. Unable to say “I love you” back. Also, when stancy officially breakup it also pans to mileven on the porch as another parallel.And 11byers mentioned (at Christmas) jancy has a moment but despite stancy’s issues she goes back to Steve where she looks sad over the decision . Similar to how Byler have a moment , but then after , mileven talks about christmas and they have that awkward kiss. In s3, steve when talking about stancy and trying to be popular even says “dustin’s right it’s all a bunch of bullshit.” (meaning Dustin’s right about mileven). Steve even says “everything people tell you is important that you’re supposed to care about- it’s bullshit.” (same season Mike mimics Lucas’ words from s1 about El being the “most important thing”.

-They also had Mike tell Max “i don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.” Aka he can’t hate Max or love el cause he knew both for a week-and doesn’t know them. The amount of mileven burns that were in s2 -were insane XD.

other direct contrasts between Mileven & byler

besides the ones already mentioned. 1) ‘crazy together/so stupid’ vs ‘what makes you crazy?/el’s not stupid/more to life than stupid boys & 2) ‘they’re not in love they’re not even from the same planet’ vs byler’s ‘welcome to my world’

3) Mike has drastically different expressions after the byler/mileven fights and the difference in weather and music selection ,convey how Mike is feeling. He looks regretful with Will, and almost annoyed with El dumping him. Mileven breaks up to upbeat music on a sunny day (the break up being in front a crowd and a joke) vs the morose music and the storm shown (with just Mike and Will fighting ). We are supposed to take the byler fight seriously and the mileven one as a joke.They had Mike apologize to Will immediately. But with El he says “what did i do wrong?’ (Kind of like how ted, after pissing off karen says “what did I do?”)And then had Mike wait by the phone for her to apologize- says sexist stuff about her. Then have mike laugh/burp and talk about cheese and El to laugh about the break up/high five max and immediately oggle a pic of another boy/male celeb (unlike Will who looks sadly at the pic of Mike after their fight). And then after staring at the teen-male celeb, El says she’s not sure if Mike’s a good kisser cause he’s just her “first boyfriend” and she has no other boys to compare him to (implying she’s thinking of other boys in the future). Contrasted to Will who said he thought him & Mike would never get gfs but just spend the rest of their lives together. El after all these events, then happily reads comics as Max says she shouldn’t hang out with Mike all the time. VS Will having him sadly read his comic to distract himself only to throw his comic on the ground right before he looks at the pic of mike from Halloween (where they said they would go ‘crazy together’), calls himself stupid (unlike El saying there’s more to life than stupid boys/mike saying El is not stupid-aka in love ). And then destroys castle byers /crIES after the their fight. These events were perfect opposites.

4) When Mike says in the pool shed she’s the “most important thing in the world” to him. she cuts him off and says Hopper is right about them spending too much time together. But when Mike in the shed says asking Will to be his friend was the “best thing he’s ever done” (it was practically the cliche of true love breaking the curse) XD.

When Mike says to El “you’re most important thing to me” in the pool shed. El doesn’t even acknowledge the comment (and neither should the audience- cause the words were empty). The framing of this mileven scene was not cinematic or heartfelt, and neither was the delivery from Mike. He’s not crying, trying to reach her with proclamations of his genuine feelings. There’s no dramatic music, framing, lighting or shot composition (and the scene was incredibly short).And El just responds and cuts his supposed ‘true feelings’ off- only to agree with Hopper and says “ what if he’s right” . I didn’t speed this up FYI.

Juxtaposed to the MUCH longer byler shed scene. A literal single tear falling down his cheek as Mike , recounts the first day they met. This whole monologue is only of tight shots of just their faces (their bodies aren’t shown like in the pool shed scene). With contrasting colors of light and shadow.This is a personal moment between them and them alone- and the fact we zoom in on their faces (expresses this to be important emotionally) . And when we see Will’s reaction to Mike saying “it was the best thing I’ve ever done”. We just see Will’s face only- no music is playing and all we hear is Will’s whimpers and Mike crying in the background.*

5) Max in s2 at Will’s house questions how Mike can still trust Will now that he’s a spy for the mf . Max (in s3) at El’s house: says that Mike doesn’t trust El- and Mike mentions that her spying is why he doesn’t trust her. in s2, Mike: “if anyone could stop them it’s Will“. Max: “ I thought we couldn’t trust him that he’s a spy for the mf now?” Max in s3 calling Mike out : “El has saved the world twice. And Mike still doesn’t trust her.” Mike: you want to talk about trust really?! after... Eleven spied on us! I guess girlfriends don’t lie they SPY!”

Not to mention - the fact is... El has “saved the world twice but Mike still doesn’t trust her” to fight the mf. Yet he 100% believed Will could defeat the mf -despite Will being possessed/a spy for the mf . And despite the fact Mike thinks Will has no powers - unlike El ( but we all know he does , though :P). And, Mike even says Billy is dangerous cause the “mf is in him ...Billy’s mind is sick, diseased” (but with Will possession -Mike still trusted him). Max rolls her eyes and stares challengingly at Mike cause she remembers what Mike said about Will in s2- and the hypocrisy . And she finds it annoying how little faith he has in her compared to his almost unmoving-trust in Will (who at the time was possessed) . Mike has 100% trust and faith in Will-but simply doesn’t trust El. And MAX KNOWS IT! Cause she’s paying attention. Like her facial expression/raised brow, at the end, is a challenge- you think non-superpowered Will could defeat the mf but not El with a history of fighting monsters? You say Billy possessed by the mf is dangerous- but still have more faith in Will possessed by the mf- than your own gf?! tbh El couldn’t defeat the mf (so technically him trusting Will over El was proven to be correct). He wasn’t right about the El ‘giving up’ bs and he was still wrong for not respecting El as her “own person” with her “own free will” : not believing in El’s ability to make decisions like breaking up with him/ not believing El made the idea to spy on him, etc . But, Team work has always been what saved the day in s1-2, so over-relying on El to do it all and acting like she was the messiah ( like most of the st fanbase) was a poor plan . It’s not the El-show (it’s an ensemble cast with several mains). When they relied on her only ,to be the chosen one- she lost her powers, 30+ people d*ed, and they had to save her.

6) ) El and Will both calling for “Mike” alone in the upside down . And Mike “never giving up” on them.In the exact same ep (s2 e2) , both call for Mike from the upside down. El saves herself without Mike’s help. But Mike rushes to save Will crouching to comfort Will (whose body language mirrors El’s but who was alone in the forest after she sees mike and he did nothing).

in s2 ep 1, both call for Mike ,but Mike only comes for Will -not el. It was like how Nancy in s1 called for Jon, and jonathan pulled her out of the upsidedown. And as Jonathan and Mike both pull Nancy and Will back from the upside down , Jonathan says “I got you”. And Mike says “I got him “ twice. But mileven is like how barb while in the upsidedown called for Nancy (but nancy didn’t hear her screaming her name-cause it shows symbolically Nancy does not return Barb’s romantic feelings). Just like mileven.

Mike even saw Will’s dead body but the second he heard his voice he convinced everyone he was alive. Mike deep down assumed El was dead he brushed off seeing El as seeing things (like how Hopper described seeing Sarah). He even tells Max “ they took her just like they took bob” who was dead. Then a few minutes later lies and says he “never gave up” on her when she appears alive (which was a lie cause he just said she was dead). When El goes to his house Mike doesn’t ever go the forest to find her (unlike how Mike went into the forest in the pouring rain twice for Will). The truth is the only person he ‘never gave up on’ was Will.

7) They have El & Will have pics of Mike on Halloween (same night of the ‘crazy together’ speech). El only has a pic of Mike being miserable and Will has pics of Mike staring at Will, and smiling next to him- despite the joke Mike never smiles in photos , this isn’t the case when mike is next to Will (he always smiles with Will). Cause being crazy with Will makes him happy - unlike his relationship with El who he fakes being ‘crazy’ about .

zoom in of Will & El’s pics of Mike: Will’s pic on left vs El’s on right . XD

8) Millie said El is “obsessed with Mike” so she has Mike-themed stuff all over her room. She has a drawing with a heart that says mike on it/random heart pics, mike pic, dice that spell out mike, mikes’ stuff. So, It’s funny that mike has nothing relating to El at his place. In contrast to this, he still has 5 d&d drawings from Will on his wall (that he’s kept on his wall for 3 years despite removing an old poster from that same wall-which he gave to El). Mike even put up a 6th Will-drawing in s3- next to his new poster. And he never put a single 1 of her many drawings on his wall-just Will’s).

back to other points...

- They compared mileven to karen/billy. El in s2 , mimics Erica Kane who m(in the ep she is watching) rushes into a relationship with a writer named Mike Roy. (That relationship is not endgame-and literally ends with one of them stalking and sabotaging their next relationship, but eventually accepting it’s over). This, also parallels Karen/ Billy. Before she meets him in s2, Karen is reading a romance book that has a guy that resembles Billy on the cover. The Duffers even mentioned they changed the cover to show the resemblance between Billy and the fictional book character. And we see Karen reading the sequel in s3 before Billy appears. Both El and Karen don’t/didn’t love Mike or Billy- they just projected onto them fictional characters they were infatuated with. El being into Mike roy- but projecting her crush on to Mike wheeler.

-They had El’s whole s2 arc be destroyed to show mileven is bad for her. “friends don’t lie” to let me lie to my friends so I can kiss mike and ditch them. lucas even said “they’re lying (about her curfew).”And lie to Mike about hearing his confession. Then in s2 trying to leave the cabin to experience the world and see my friends and fam again. To literally ignoring them all for 6 months and never leaving the cabin-despite Hopper letting me leave the house in s3.

- El in s3 says Mike treats her “like a pet” and “garbage”.

-In s1 Mike referred to her as a ‘weapon’ to help get Will back. smacked her when he thought she lied about Will being alive and said Lucas was right about her all along when he thought Will was dead and he couldn’t use her anymore.

- They had El never apologize for spying/stalking . And Mike never apologize for lying -despite it being the cause of the breakup . And had mike not reciprocate the kiss/ or say ‘i love you ‘ back and had his eyes open while the same exact song plays that robin came out to: called ‘the first i love you’). These are the only 2 times the song plays in s3. The ‘first i love you’ also sounds like ‘the first lie’ - that song played when jancy said they were just friends. it sounds the same cause jancy lied about it not being romantic while mileven lied by saying it was. He never apologized for lying cause the love is the lie- like Max said “boyfriends lie ALL THE TIME”. And it’s why the camera panned to Will when Lucas asked why Mike lied to her. And he never answers El’s question of ‘why do you lie?!’ (he just looks up silent and guilt ridden).This awkward kiss all happens in Will’s room too while Mike is in front of an open closet (while El is holding Will’s old bear).

Plus he also fought with Hopper in s2 (’about El’) in Will’s room too. He wasn’t actually calling Hopper the liar he was calling himself “a stupid disgusting liar”out of self hate . That scene was foreshadowing his lying to El in s3 (about his feelings for her). He blamed Hopper for his feelings for Will cause he told himself it wouldn’t have escalated if El had been around to ‘fix him’ . “I BLAME YOU! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OK! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS OK. YOU STUPID DISGUSTING liar, liar, liar, liar”.starts crying.

- Mike says “i never gave up on you (to El). “ When moments earlier he says “it took her just like it took Bob.” HE’S LYING AGAIN. He always thought she was dead -he was just hoping she was alive so he didn’t have to blame himself. He felt bad for treating her like a “weapon”. Mike saw El and didn’t even bother looking for her in the woods cause he assumed she was dead and was hallucinating. Mike saw Will’s dead body- but heard his voice and got him from another dimension (for El he couldn’t even bother to walk into the woods). Despite going into the woods in the pouring rain 2x for Will in s1& 3. El and Mike both call for Mike in the upside down (Mike in the same ep only comes for Will).

- They barely spoke to each other and all they did was makeout for 1 ep (while Mike put a drawing of ‘Will (the fire wielding) wise’ on the wall to help him kiss her/ with rainbows pic everywhere in the room to signify he’s gay and lying). All while listening to a mixtape Will gave him as he kisses El.As Mike moves her hands off him (and sings a song from ‘boy in the box’) and El says to Max later she doesn’t know if mike’s a good kisser . And Mike rushes to one of his many established double-dates with Will and lumax (x). And Mike in s3 when dating el, removes the sign of the heart being propelled by a rainbow (which he had before meeting El in his basement) .BUT it follows him symbolically ,as a drawing of a heart being propelled by a rainbow (in el’s room- cause no matter how much he kisses el there, he can’t escape his rainbow/being gay.)

-as mileven kiss in s3 e1. We zoom in on the drawing of Will the wise (the lyrics over the pic are “a little more time can open closing doors”). And then Mike continues to sing this song from ‘boy in the box’ (cough closet).Will in s3e1 says he won’t fall in love and the song then a diff song plays “love that was new to you , you open up the door.” mileven at the end of s3 kissing in front of Will’s open closet door with Mike’s eyes open not kissing back , and saying he doesn’t “ remember “ the love you and just says it was “in the heat of the moment”. The mike song being from “boy in the box” (closet). And they make out to “I can’t fight this feeling” which the singer says is about wanting to admit your feelings to your friend of many years and being afraid it’ll ruin the relationship. Aka even when kissing El he’s thinking of Will and admitting his feelings and not being able to fight his feelings

- Mike saying about Max “awesome? you don’t even know her.” Dustin says “ i don’t have to i mean look at her.” El was said in s1 multiple times to look like a boy (specifically Will). So Dustin and Lucas had no interest in her -only Mike did. BUT when max (a girl who looked like a girl) arrived- they as straight boys were smitten. And Mike was not interested at all (cause he’s gay). The fact people don’t realize Mike was rude to her because he thought Will liked her too makes me laugh - he even was 1/2 honest in s3 saying he was jealous of her XD

why in s3 (when she looks like a girl) the compliment to her look is almost the same as Hopper’s comment to her makeover in s2. Paralleling Mike to her dad is the opposite of romantic!

-people say in s3 Will saying “a day free of girls” is gay coded but everyone ignores Mike in s3 saying “BOYS ONLY”. Same energy.

-MiKE has more rainbows than Will: Mike’s rainbow bedroom blinds, the rainbow-heart wooden sign in the basement in s1, the rainbow heart drawing that says Mike in s3, a rainbow sticker in his room, byler standing behind a rainbow poster in s2. And Will with the rainbow ship and the girl he danced with having a rainbow hearts-hairclip.

- People mention Mike saving El in s3 was romantic ( when he hit Billy). But when Billy slapped max he charged in to save her too and tried punching him (despite their beef). that moment wasn’t romantic (unless you think madweheeler is- which no). Mike is just a good person- he also risked his life for dustin. He’s brave and will defend HIS FRIENDS.

- we’re almost to the end for those not keeping tract mileven is compared to stancy, ted/karen, karen/billy, stobin, Dart/Dustin, max &mike, barb/nancy, nancy & dustin, siblings & cousins & a parent/kid dynamic. And contrasted to byler.

- Finn, after s1, said the duffers told him, Mike thinks of her as a “puppy/ “et” , and that Mileven was a “first summer love thing”- foreshadowing what was mileven’s downfall during the Summer (aka s3). He repeats this “first summer love” phrase 2x. Millie when he mentioned what the duffers said, rightfully thought the puppy thing was “awful”, but Finn was clearly told mileven doesn’t last -very early on.Summer love” by definition fails-as it only lasts during the summer.

-It wasn’t a break it was a breakup. Like Max and Will said in response to Mike “ she said she dumped your ass! That doesn’t sound like a break?!/ it wasn’t!’ Or El knocking all the candy out of the machine, except the kit kat Mike wanted. Slogan of kit-kat “ having a break , have a kit kat.” In other words, it was NOT a break. It was a breakup. Difference is - in s4 it’ll be El who can’t accept this fact , not Mike. Max having to correct El that Mike is her “ex boyfriend” after the breakup (in s3) foreshadows this.The other couples in s3 who fought -were always still paired together in framed shots (jancy/ lumax) were on a break (but got back together- by the end of s3, not confident about their futures together, but they still have a distinction from mileven-based on such framing). That mileven didn’t get back together. El in s3 was always on her own and Mike was paired with Will (while the other couples were in frame).

this could go on and on honestly. there’s so much other stuff proving mileven is not going to be endgame. Not to mention all of Mike’s queer coding (x) XD

#byler #byeler #anti mileven

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coal15 · 3 years

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Why Buddie *isn’t* Destiel:

Let’s start with the stuff working against Buddie. Then move on to the things I believe give Buddie a much better shot at becoming canon than Destiel ever did. It’s a tad bit long:

So. Yes. The two ships do have a a lot in common. And yes, Buddie is a longshot for a lot of the same reasons Destiel was.

Bi men aren’t really a thing on tv (especially not NETWORK tv), Dean and Buck were both introduced as huuuuuuuuuge fans of banging women with never a single unambiguous mention of them ever having dated or even being attracted to men. Only little wink/nudge moments played off as humor (”so does this boy-crush on Eddie mean . . .”) , or the characters giving each other “heart eyes,” a thing which can easily seen as a silent expression of deep fondness/admiration/trust/platonic love, whatever. None of the characters “seem bisexual” ie, they don’t conform to your typical network tv depictions or stereotypes of non-straight men.

They all have “masculine” jobs (as opposed to something either soft and mellow, or flamboyant and performative). The real “guy guy” type characters are generally meant to be seen as 1000% straight. This applies less to Cas than the other 3 men as he’s technically not human, but he does present as male, and even though he did end the series with a big ‘I love you’ moment to Dean, the line didn’t address how he loved Dean. And since Cas didn’t say ‘I’m in love with you,’ nor did Dean say it back, as far as series canon goes Destiel was never explicitly Romantic Love. You could interpret it that way extremely easily, but it was never overt series canon.

They’re both hugely popular non-canon fandom ships (and in buddie’s case, growing in fandom popularity every day).

The creators and cast have made comments acknowledging said popularity with vague comments like “it’s a really special dynamic,” “we’re glad the audience can interpret blahblahblah,” “the fanart is soooooo great,” or “we love the enthusiasm.” That kind of wishy washy shit. Sure, some of the actors will make overtly pro-ship comments, but they always (and for good reason) clarify that the writers/producers haven’t told them anything either way.

OKAY. SO. On to what makes Buddie different from Destiel. (and why I’m optimistic)

Number one is timing. As in: how many years have we had with a character being played a certain way? By the time Cas appeared in SPN, they were 4 seasons in, and Dean had been portrayed as the typical “boobies, boobies, all the boobies; I will immediately hit on any and all hot women,” etc. Yes, Buck began 911 as basically that exact same guy--but ‘that guy’ only lasted a single season. Eddie shows up at the top of S2, so we haven’t already had multiple previous seasons of “Ladie’s Man” Buck. And that makes it easier to bend and adapt his character--or to reveal major character traits not previously mentioned.

Two: Cas was introduced in a way that didn’t evoke anything romantic or sexual at all. He was there on a mission from GOD. Utterly asexual insofar as his interactions with Dean (despite the insane sexual chemistry going on, in the show’s ‘maintext’ nothing about Cas’s character had anything to do with sex or romance) Meanwhile, when Eddie showed up on 911 literally the first thing said about him was Chim’s line “Now that is a beautiful man,” a comment followed by “Whatta Man” playing while Eddie put on his shirt. In slow motion. While Buck kinda . . . stared? So in stark contrast to Cas’s first moments on SPN, Eddie’s 911 intro was. . . . well, let’s see . . . the soundtrack is a blatantly sexual song . . . slo-mo shirtlessness . . . Chim’s “beautiful man” comment . . . all of those things present Eddie in an overtly sexual context right away.

Three: With Destiel, despite their intense screen chemistry, Cas and Dean took the better part of a season to really really bond. Whereas Buddie were joined-at-the-hip besties by the end of Eddie’s 1st episode--when less than 30 episodes of the series had aired. Yes, the sexual chemistry between Cas and Dean may have been palpable from minute one, but the emotional bond between Buck and Eddie happened almost right away. Much faster than with Destiel. And they became involved in one another’s personal lives a lot faster, too.

Four: On 911 neither Buck nor Eddie ever vanish for many episodes at a time, whereas Cas’s character on SPN dipped in and out. He might be there for several episodes in a row . . . or he might only show up a few times in whole season. So by default Buck and Eddie have more screentime together to continue fleshing out that bond. Establishing the Buckley-Diaz family.

Five: On SPN, introducing long term love interests for either brother would have busted up the central dynamic driving the show. Much as I used to love Destiel, for five entire seasons Sam and Dean were the central, laser-focused relationship in the show. Sure it may have been a co-dependent and often unhealthy bond, but it was the foundation on which the entire series was built. That’s a really tough dynamic to wedge a love interest into without upsetting the whole balance of the show. Cut to 911: no single character or relationship is the “laser focus” of the whole series. Every character in the ensemble has their own storyline. And thus far, no two characters are toxically codependent on one another. They’re all fleshed out as independent entities.

Six: (related to point five) If either of the actors playing Buck or Eddie landed a huge movie roll, or asked to be written out for personal reasons, or fucked up so bad they had to be fired? It wouldn’t torch the entire show. Bobby, Athena, Hen, Maddie (even Buck or Eddie if only one of them was written out) . . . the show would go on without Buddie. Or without any one character. Whereas if either Jensen or Jared had decided to quit SPN at any point? Well shit, there goes the show! Finished. Donezo.

In conclusion: with 911 not being totally dependent on any one character dynamic for the show’s survival, it puts them in a far better position to gamble, ratings-wise, on something that might not be a hit with the general audience. (I know it sucks, but 'popular on social media’ doesn’t automatically translate to ‘popular with casual viewers’). If 911 did take that leap with Buck and Eddie and it flopped? The Buckley-Diaz family moves to an island paradise somewhere and the show moves on with their strong (and also popular) remaining ensemble cast. For the average casual viewer, nothing in 911 would blow up beyond repair without Buddie.

So I feel like our ship has a much better shot of becoming canon. There is good reason to be optimistic. Especially if the ship’s fanbase continues to grow, and grow, and grow, and we remain visible and vocal.

#buddie #buck x eddie #911 on fox #queerbaiting #bi visibility #my tv says bi men don't exist #and tv knows everything

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 3 years

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The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love? - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

- What the fu-

Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

“You dye, you buy.”

Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

But…

Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

It was okay.

They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

Okay. Everything was okay.

[~*~]

Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!

[~*~]

The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

“Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

[~*~]

Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

[~*~]

Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

‘The First Step’.

Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

“Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

“That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

“Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

“Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

“I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

“How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

Silence followed his words.

“Pat?”

“What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

“Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

“Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

“I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

“You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

“We’re on episode 19.”

[~*~]

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

Or…

Navy blue.

Oh.

He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

…If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

“It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

“Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

“Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

“I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

“He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

“A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

“Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

“You should go sleep, then.”

The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

“I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits? Does he even remember about him?

Highly improbable.

“You can call me Lo.”

Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

“Lo? Like Lowrance?”

“Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

…

‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

…

“Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

“Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

“Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

“Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

“Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

“Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

“Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

“Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

Then he understood.

His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

“Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

“Hello, Prince.”

Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

“I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

“I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

“Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

“Make me, I dare you.”

“Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

“Eleven years.”

“We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

“Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

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streets-in-paradise · 4 years

Text

I want to talk about some of the main family relationships in Troy

As I already told once in one of my posts, I adore to overanalyze family relationships in the media I consume. I’m still in the process of writing another one as a second part to my sibling relationships post talking of more family relationships from various of my fandoms but, since that one is taking me too much time to finish, I'm writing now this shorter one for my Troy appreciation series.

I already started this ramble in the same post I referenced. There I talked about my favourite family bond in the entire film, the sibling relationship of Hector and Paris. Still, there is a lot to discuss about family dynamics in the story this movie tells. Even since I was writing that post I kept thinking on how many family related story arcs this movie has and how, if you pay close attention to those, you can capture the essence of the characters. Because of this, I decided to dedicate a separate post to the main family relationships portrayed there and the important role they play in the development of the story. I will try to skip the ones i already talked about before. This are, for most part, the relationships inside the trojan royal family. Since i already discussed those, most of this will be about family bonds of the greek characters.

As i stated in previous posts, this is a talk about the characters and actions in the movie. I’m not talking from an adaptation” movie vs book” point of view. I can occasionally mention some of the differences but there would be more references than comparisons.

As always, i apologise for any possible mistakes in my writing. I’m still in the process of getting used to writing long texts in english. Also, I give proper credits for the images to the original sites hosting them.

Agamemnon and Menelaus

The movie establishes them clearly as the main antagonists. Precisely, one of the many scenes I love in this movie is the one in which they show up to the gates of Troy commanding the greek army and they argue with the trojan princes over the terms of the combat between Paris and Menelaus. The first thing I always notice in that one is how alike Hector and Paris look when they get down from their horses, it reminds me of the actual part of the Iliad in which it is said that Paris gets confused for a brave man because of his looks. Going back to my point, in that scene I get the vibe of opponents these characters have just by the display of the dynamics between siblings.

Agamemnon is using his brother’s problem as an excuse for a war highly profitable for him. Menelaus is aware of this and he doesn’t care because he is too consumed by his wish for revenge and, it seems that this mutualistic beneficial goal is what sticks them together. Their first scene together, when Menelaus goes to Mycenae asking his brother for help, summarizes their relationship in a great way. Menelaus seems to have a rather servile attitude towards his brother and Agamemnon clearly takes advantage of that, having in that particular time a perfect excuse to attack an enemy he had wished to conquer for a long time. If you think about it, this is the exact opposite relationship of Hector and Paris. I love how well this scene fits as a contrast to the argument in the ship scene of Hector and Paris . In both, Menelaus and Paris are basically asking for the help of their older bros, one doing it on purpose and the other one half aware. Their family relationships are established so well by those two scenes.

Going back to the one scene I mentioned first, the exchanges between characters are awesome. Not only because you can appreciate directly how this differences play a role in the conflict, but also because you can totally appreciate how every character involved is the exact opposite of the one who challenges. The exchange between Hector and Agamemnon is fantastic. I love how Hector cuts the crap on Agamemnon’s cocky bullshit, their short interaction is priceless.Also, i almost feel bad for Paris because “ the sun was shining when your wife left you” is his best line in the entire movie and he gets his ass kicked by Menelaus immediately afterwards. I like how, despite being a coward, Paris is a sassy little shit.

Something i need to add about these brothers is that the Director’s Cut adds a better perspective on Agamemnon’s care for Menelaus. There are many short hints, especially after Menelaus’s death, that show how he actually cared for him. I think that this small glimpse should have stayed in the final version. Even when Agamemnon is a piece of shit of the worst kind and his brother was not very different, it is nice to see him caring for something else than his own imperialist desires from time to time and to get a real family vibe from those two.

Achilles and Patroclus

Before starting with this two i want to clarify that i am fully aware of the very different interpretation their relationship got in this movie. I heard that the romantic approach was explored in Troy: fall of a city. I haven’t watched it yet, it is on my to watch list and at some point i will do it. Now, speaking of what we have seen in the context of the movie, i have to say that i love the adorable family bond they have since the first scene they share. This is by far my second favourite family bond in the film.

As i said before i have a weakness for family relationships and tragedies regarding them are the biggest pain i can imagine. I don’t have anything against romantic Achilles x Patroclus, i just enjoy a lot the family approach it took here. First, i think it happens because i saw the movie far before reading any piece of trojan war related fiction and second because I happen to enjoy seeing family bonds more than romantical ones. My basic example for explaining this is the complaint I had over Kili x Tauriel and how it kinda shifted the focus of the previously established family story of the Line of Durin. If i have to choose between a family or a romance story of any kind, I will always end up more interested in the first option because i relate to and enjoy those better.

In this version, they are cousins with a very brother like relationship. I feel like here Patroclus acts like a little bro that hero worships Achilles. We know that his parents died and Achilles took care of him but we don’t know when that happened. What we do know is that his protection is the only aspect Achilles feels responsible for in his life. His bond with him reflects the best and the worst of him. It displays his softer and his most terrible side. Without paying close attention it looks like the romantic subplot with Briseis is the part of the plot that is supposed to show his soft side and, partially, it does but i think that job is already done earlier with the introduction of Patroclus. The story with Briseis serves mainly as support of what was already established there. The kindest, more human side of Achilles is clearly there when you look at his interactions with Patroclus.

One of the main reasons why i enjoy this relationship so much is because, plotwise, it serves as a perfect point of encounter for the two main heros’ characterizations. Despite all the effort the storytelling makes in pointing out the many differences between Hector and Achilles, these two apparently opposite men share the same limitation. Hector’s goal is to protect his country, Achilles’s goal is immortality through fame, but both find themselves lost when their reckless younger relatives endanger themselves and both react the same way. When Paris was at instants of dying by the hands of Menelaus Hector had to choose between saving him or letting him get killed for the good of Troy. The man who serves as paradigm of honesty and sacrifice, the most noble hero of the story, broke the agreement and killed Menelaus. He broke a pact and gave his enemies an even better excuse for war that will doom Troy because his brother’s life was at risk. Achilles’s madness over grief for Patroclus fits so well family related in this particular narrative because it originated in the same feelings. Paris and Patroclus may be opposites, one being a coward and the other the embodiment of reckless courage, but both become the limit of tolerance for Hector and Achilles. At the end, both heros are driven by love for their families. In this version where Hector and Paris have this strong bond that works perfectly as a mirror for Achilles and Patroclus, it fits so well for them to be family. The chain of deaths unleashed with Patroclus’s death becomes a natural response to the bonds previously mentioned between the four characters involved. Everything becomes a big family tragedy and that is devastating.

One more comment i will make about them is that i also love how some of Achilles’s friends add some more sweet or happy hints to some scenes. Eudorus, despite the formal servant-like way in which he speaks to Achilles, gives me a long time friend who is almost family vibe. Of course, i have to mention Odysseus here as well. Patroclus and Achilles sparring scene has an amazing chill domestic fun tone and he adds even more fun to the moment once he arrives. They are the most likeable greeks of the movie and you get such a friendly feeling of them. I live for these guys. The main scene they shared is the happiest of the film.

Bonus mentions

The Director’s Cut has a lot of scenes that help you understand some of the characters' motivations and lots of them are family related. One small scene I wish really hard the should had kept is the one in which Priam explains the reasons for his deep religious devotion. He listens to the high priest’s terrible advice and ignores his son’s wiser words not because he is a nice but dumb and inept king. He believes Apollo saved Hector from a disease when he was a baby boy. There is a reason for his blind, sometimes naive, faith in Apollo’s protection.Other cut out moment with a similar meaning is the one in which Andromache tells Hector she lost seven brothers in a previous war. She is tired of losing people, her husband is all she has. Having this in consideration her story turns even more tragic.

I could mention a few more characters and moments but this is getting too long so i will end it here. I think it is enough for the topic i wanted to write about and the only main character i feel i skipped a bit here is Priam but i had talked enough about the trojans and how much i love them so i think it is enough.

I enjoyed writing this, as fast as i can i will upload the general post for family relationships i’m working on and i’m thinking of making a special one like this for lotr. @hrisity12 I tag you as i always do in all my Troy content.

Thanks for reading this ramble i intended to keep short but, as always, ended up longer than i expected.

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cialbi · 4 years

Text

Boy With Hope: Lavender - Prologue

Summary: As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared from above you.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Alcoholism

Word Count: 2357

A/N: This is going to be part of a series called “Boy’s With Series.” Hoseok’s story is going to be the first part out of seven. I don’t know what order I’ll do the other boys in, but I already have their themes and such chosen out. So enjoy the prologue!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

‘I’d finally gotten there.’

The cool night air was a whisper in your ears as you made your way down the long, open hallway of your apartment complex. Wine bottle opened in hand and a plastic bag around your wrist, the sound of your footsteps was an echoed trail that stretched out behind you like a forgotten cry. Outside it was all rich colors of pinks, blues and reds of the distant city, with long shadows cutting across the ground in shapes of buildings. Fireflies glowed amongst the sky and from somewhere a waking crow called

‘I was tired.’

You wobbled with imbalance and your face was flushed scarlet amidst the effects of alcohol. You looked shabby; clothes stained with drink and hair an unruly mess, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because your fervor had abandoned you and your will to create had spiraled down the drain like a flushed toilet.

You didn’t care because you’d pushed away everyone who had ever loved you, even though all they had wanted was to help. You didn’t care because life would always be unfair, and you didn’t care because today you had gotten yourself fired.

Unimpressive and short-lived, your job had ended in an unfortunate argument with your boss over your consistent tardiness. Tardiness that was due to the oversleeping and headaches which naturally came with a massive hangover. It wasn’t a great job and didn’t pay very well, but it was the only job you had had and now you had none.

‘Defeated.’

So you had done what you do best and found comfort in a dingy bar somewhere in the heart of the city. Since early evening you had drowned yourself in booze until eventually, the bartender had cut you off. You had slammed down your empty glass in a fit of rage and demanded more, but with a look of pity, he had denied you. You had tried to reason with him, even went so far as to beg, but he had shot you down with a strict brow and threatened to call the police if you didn’t cooperate.

Thus, in a slew of curses and resistance you had gracelessly made your exit and hit up the liquor store on your way home.

‘Hopeless.’

You reached your apartment door and fished for your keys buried deep in the pockets of your tattered jeans. The pink heart nose of a horse-shaped fob greeted you with round black eyes that stared flatly as if judging your life choices. You sighed heavily. Fiddling and fumbling, they fell to the ground with a soft, jingling ‘clink.’ The noise reverberated through the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls and right back into your ears.

You groaned. “Fuck.”

Bending down to pick them up, you stumbled; jelly-like legs practically begged to give as you scooped the keys up in your hands. You rested your arm against the metal door of your apartment and gathered your bearings before standing upright.

Your stomach churned with sickness.

You couldn’t recall how much you had drank but you knew it must have been a lot to make you so irrevocably drunk. Since your alcohol tolerance was troublingly high, it took a substantial amount to resort you to this embarrassing, spaced-out state of mind.

Perhaps four bottles of wine? And some vodka. Definitely vodka. The taste of the chemically liquid still lingered on your tongue.

What had started out as harmless college partying, turned into something far more dark, and far more dangerous.

Binge drinking.

Drinking during the day and drinking throughout the night, it was your way to cope with the demons deep inside your bleeding heart.

Days went by in a haze of crocked stupor and the many voices that told you you weren’t enough got lost in a fuzzy lull. But life had just gotten lonelier and lonelier and finally you just couldn’t cope with it anymore.

‘I’d gotten to this place, because I didn’t want to feel anymore.’

Finally getting the keys in the door, it took you a second to turn the handle. The lock had always been finicky and would stick to the entry frame every now and then, so you had to bump your hip against the hard metal in order to nudge it open. You cursed under your breath. The door gave a piercing wail as you pushed on it and you took a moment to lean your body upon it’s chilly surface. Your skin burned like a sizzling egg as the cold contrasted with your fiery flesh.

With bleary eyes, you glanced at your surroundings. It was dark inside, but the light that poured in from the hallway illuminated your path amongst the shadows and soaked your room in a vibrant yellow. Your tiny apartment was an absolute shit-show.

Garbage littered nearly every inch of your floor and empty bottles were strewn around like a tornado had hit. Sketchbooks and clothes were piled up in heaps and papers were crumpled into little balls that overflowed your wicker-woven trash bin. The stench of rotting food was prominent in your nose as you took a deep whiff of air.

‘Because I didn’t care anymore.’

From across the room you could see your intoxicated visage reflected in the mirror hanging next to your vanity, lips chapped and stained deep crimson. You winced.

‘About my looks. About my weight. About what others thought of me.’

As you pushed yourself away from the door, it instantly swung shut from behind and submerged you back into obscurity.

‘It all passed through me just like water passed through a river.’

Blinking through the darkness, you moved through your apartment, feet stumbling over liquor bottle after trash bag as you made your way over to your bed; sheets dirty and utterly soiled. The white cotton sunk around your legs as you sat down, leaving your feet to dangle over the edge. You knew you were at your limit as a woozy flood of lethargy washed over you in waves. Wine bottle still in hand, you unhooked the wirey plastic bag from around your wrist and let it reside still scrunched around your fingers on top of your satin, pink comforter.

‘Nothing pleasured me anymore.’

You stared blankly into the chaotic mess before you, wondering how you had ever let it get this bad.

‘Art.’

Running a hand through your tangled hair, you eyed the drawings that hung on your wall; a reminder of the days before the flame of your passion had been snuffed.

‘Fashion.’

You kicked off your pants and threw them somewhere amongst your belongings, replacing them with worn out, frumpy sweatpants that had been balled up next to your pillow. The rumpled load of accumulated clothes had remained unwashed for weeks and began to stink of body odor and mildew.

‘Friends.’

Happy polaroids clipped to photo wires showed smiling faces of friends and family and your heart tightened as you remembered only the sheer disappointment you had brought to them.

‘I’d lost interest in them all.’

You rested the bottle against your pillow and took a breath.

Everyday was a chore. Exhausted and abused, your body could barely make it out of bed, let alone wash your face or shower. You knew you stunk by the way people avoided you, but you remained indifferent.

Their opinions were irrelevant now.

‘Basic day to day functions were beyond me.’

Turning to look at the plastic bag still enlaced around your hand, you rummaged through it and pulled out a little orange pill bottle labeled with your name on the side. After your departure from the liquor store, you had made a pit stop to the pharmacy, picking up the anxiety meds your quack of a doctor had prescribed you.

Klonopin to be exact.

You held up the bottle against the moonlight and you could see your fucked-up face reflected amidst the glow of the pearly, apricot plastic. With shaking hands you clumsily unscrewed the cap with a soft ‘click’ of the child lock releasing and poured it’s entire contents into your palm.

‘Nothing seemed to matter anymore.’

Squinting your eyes to focus your vision, you stared down at the little pink cylinders with a vacant expression.

So this was it.

This was the choice you had finally decided to make. After years of pain and self-hatred, years of slowly letting yourself become consumed by the dark, it was finally going to end and all you had to do was swallow. You felt a wetness on your cheeks.

Oh.

You’d started to cry.

You hadn’t noticed.

‘Because now…’

Without a second thought, you shoved the pills into your mouth, catching the ones that fell and made sure that they made their way inside. They tasted like burnt rubber against your tastebuds, the shiny plastic coating slid with ease over your tongue and for the slightest moment you hesitated.

‘...it would all…’

You grabbed the bottle of wine from its resting place against your pillow, the liquid swished around the circular glass chamber as it moved. The scent of fermented grape stung your nose as you held it close to your face and your lip quivered in grief. Bringing the tip to your mouth you closed your eyes, and devoured half of it in hungry gulps. It burned. The pills snaked their way down your throat and you swore you heard them plummet into the depths of your stomach.

‘...just stop.’

A single warm drop of wine burst on your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your white baggy shirt with a red that resembled blood. You felt your head go fuzzy, your addict brain absorbing the alcohol like a sponge and suddenly the room began to swoon. Rubbing your mouth with the back of your hand, the blaring of car horns from outside began to dull and a high pitched ring vibrated from within your head.

Slowly, you fixed your gaze upon the open window beside you, the curtains swayed like ghosts at midnight.

‘I’d become a walking corpse…’

No longer able to sit upright, you laid back on your elbows before sinking into your mattress with your stomach turned towards the ceiling. It felt nice, assuring even. You watched with sleepy eyes as the fan turned gently from above you, its mellow gust soft against your skin. The clock on your nightstand flashed neon green; 1:00am.

‘...and today, I couldn’t walk anymore’.

As your eyesight clouded and your mind began to slip, a little orb of twinkling purple light sailed by.

What’s that? You blinked.

Perhaps your eyes were playing tricks on you--which would make sense, because by now you were completely inebriated. Your mind searched for a logical thought, a rational life raft before wanting to drown in the impractical. A firefly maybe, though a purple firefly? That couldn’t be it.

Maybe it was an angel.

You bit back a laugh.

Whether it was from the pills or the booze, you couldn��t tell, but more and more began to fill your room and floated around your apartment, a heavenly oasis of purple. It was somehow...peaceful.

You felt at ease.

Like nothing could possibly hurt you anymore.

The life in your eyes began to dissipate as your hand slipped off your bed, drooping cold, numb and listless over the side. The wine bottle dropped from your grasp and landed with a deafening ‘crash’ of glass shattering atop wood. Pools of red liquid soaked your floor and the foul stench of alcohol mixed with the night time air.

‘I was done.’

Then, the slight smell of lavender wafted through your nose.

“Wait.” You heard someone say.

Startled, you gasped. You wanted to shift your head and find the voice, but the weight of your body--sunk deep in your sheets--wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t give up yet.” It called again. “There’s so much to live for.”

Was there really? You wanted to cry out, but your throat felt thick--too dry to speak.

Suddenly, you saw yourself wading in a body of vast, open water. It lapped at your waist as if consoling you with its cool touch. Bushels of lavender were growing from beneath and small purple petals fell comparable to summer rain. A sense of calm rushed through you like a surge of energy and the feelings of pain and sorrow dispersed in the pleasant breeze.

“Don’t worry. I’m here.”

You turned around, searching, as you felt your pulse slow. You could hear the weakening thumps of your heart like a drum in your ears and as quickly as it had come the image dissolved and you were back, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

The spheres of light stilled, clustering above your bed like magic. The sort of magic that made you want to stare at them until you could figure out why they delighted you so. One, lone light drifted low enough to kiss your cheek and, despite the numbness, it sent a spark through your skin.

A little sparkle returned to your dwindling eyes.

Through hooded vision, you could make out a pair of hands, fluxed through the ceiling as if they were made of thin air, and reaching out towards you with amenity.

“I’m here now.”

Your eyes widened at the impossible sight.

‘That was until…’

A striking boy with hair the color of midday sunshine descended through the wall, his orange locks picked up the purple lights and lent him a brilliant halo. He smiled wide, levitating soundlessly from above your dying physique.

“It’s so cold...” You mumbled, voice raspy.

His face fell in sympathy. “I know.”

“Is it almost over?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“That’s good...”

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Lids heavy, you felt your eyes close and your mind drifted off into what you thought would be an endless sleep.

A hot white beacon shot through the room as the boy tenderly placed his forehead atop yours. His eyelashes fluttered like butterflies against your cheeks and he whispered words of pure love as shining, lavender wings engulfed you.

‘...you came into my life.’

Next⤏

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avinrydarchive · 4 years

Text

three doors, three souls

Author: AvinRyd Fandom: The Bartimaeus Trilogy Rating: Gen Pairing: N/A (deep, all encompassing friendship between Nat&Kitty&Ptolemy&Bart, but no romance) Word Count: ~5,300 Series: N/A “B-” He clears his throat. “Bartimaeus?”

(He's not sure where that name came from.)

The boy blinks, then shakes his head. “No, my name is Ptolemy.” He looks expectant, as if waiting for a response.

And what to respond? Does he have a name? After a moment of thought he decides, yes, he does have a name: Nathaniel. He says as much and Ptolemy smiles.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” and it sounds so right and familiar in his voice that Nathaniel aches.

Read on AO3: link

White.

Blinding white is all there is; there had been shards of it in his vision, slashes of it in his body, an aching starburst of it in his soul. Now it is all he knows. He flies through it at speed, movement with no form to move; burning on skin that is not there.

Then suddenly, everything stops.

He looks around to see the white has dulled from snow-in-blazing-sunlight to something with depth, dimension. The dimension seems to go on forever, stretching away, and in that distance there is a speck of...well, it’s hard to tell. Certainly not white, which he finds comforting.

Sensing something at his back, he turns. Swinging shut behind him in calm silence is a massive door. Its glass panes gleam in the omnipresent light, iron latticework shining dully between. There is nothing behind the glass.

Movement at his back, once again. Once again, he turns. The not-white speck has drawn very close indeed, close enough to take the form of a boy; dark of skin, dark of hair, with eyes that feel older than the years his face betrays. The child can’t be more than fourteen.

“B-” He clears his throat. “Bartimaeus?”

(He's not sure where that name came from.)

The boy blinks, then shakes his head. “No, my name is Ptolemy.” He looks expectant, as if waiting for a response.

And what to respond? Does he have a name? After a moment of thought he decides, yes, he does have a name: Nathaniel. He says as much and Ptolemy smiles.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” and it sounds so right and familiar in his voice that Nathaniel aches.

“Where are we?” Nathaniel asks, looking around once more, but Ptolemy doesn’t answer. Instead—still with that smile, warm as the sun and twice as bright—he reaches out to take Nathaniel’s hand and lead him forward.

Hand. Nathaniel then remembers to wonder about his own form. Does he look like anything in particular? He starts with the hand in Ptolemy’s: pasty pale in comparison, but around the same size. From the wrist there’s a spindly arm in the sleeve of a grey jumper. This leads to a torso occupying the rest of the jumper. Down over dark pants to smart shoes, and Nathaniel compares these to Ptolemy’s ivory kilt and bare brown feet. Looking up, he’s at eye-level with the back of Ptolemy’s head and there’s a dark fringe of hair falling into his vision that surely wasn’t there before. He’s just reaching up to fuss with it when Ptolemy draws to a stop.

“What do you see?”

Nathaniel snaps back to attention and lets out a small sound of surprise. “Um. I see three doors,” he says with some confusion, “The door on the left is dark wood with a tarnished silver handle. The middle one is dark and has a red pentacle drawn on it, but the outer binding is broken. The door on the right is plain. Just a white door. ”

Ptolemy nods and points with his free hand at the first door. “That leads back to the world you know. Step through and you can start anew with no memory of this or your life before.”

He points to the second. “That door leads to the Other Place. If you enter, you will be absorbed into the energies of that world and become a part of the spirits. One day, you might be named and summoned. Or you might not.

"The third-” he pauses and gives the plain door a hard look, “The third door leads...on. I don’t know where, for I’ve never seen what’s beyond.”

There’s a long pause, then Ptolemy turns to face Nathaniel and says with heartbreaking gentleness, “As you’ve probably worked out, you’re dead.”

Their empty pocket of space is quiet as Nathaniel considers this, then he gestures around them. His voice seems small and fragile in the excess of open space. “And where is this?”

“Purgatory. Mictlan. Hades. There are many names. I call it The In-Between.” Ptolemy shrugs and seems like he would continue, but something draws his attention back the way they’d come.

The glass-and-iron door has opened once more and something falls through. To Nathaniel it has no shape, only a lump of substance imposed on the world, but somehow his entire being shrinks from it in terror. Ptolemy goes to meet it, but Nathaniel shies away and removes himself from the doors. From this vantage he can’t hear Ptolemy’s words, but he sees the other boy reach out and the essence take form under his touch.

A horrifying apparition is soon standing more than twice as tall as Ptolemy, tentacles and horns and sickly shapes of too many limbs and a roar of abject misery. Ptolemy shows absolutely no fear, no disgust; his movements are gentle and sure, meeting the confused and desolate creature with a compassion Nathaniel knows he could not muster in himself.

They approach the doors and Nathaniel can hear Ptolemy now. His quiet question is the same but the thing’s voice, with its echoes of horror and undercurrent of shrieking cries, is too vague to make out. As soon as Ptolemy has explained the third door, the being moves towards it in a desperate lurch. The door is open now and Nathaniel leans forward, trying to see beyond and the thing turns; their eyes meet and both recoil in base terror. The thing falls backwards through the door. Nathaniel falls on his backside. The door clicks shut.

For the first time in this place of empty white, Nathaniel feels pain. A tension has wound itself in his chest and is tightening viciously; in his ears, there are echoes of mind-rending noise—crashing glass and roaring fire, the screaming and exultation of many beings too large for the world. His breath comes too fast and harsh, though a moment ago he hadn’t needed to breathe at all.

For a time he cannot measure, Nathaniel is curled up on himself in a ball, rocking back and forth, wanting desperately to forget even as he reaches to understand this horror in his mind. The understanding does not come; the oblivion, neither. When his vision comes back into focus, Ptolemy is kneeling before him, unsurprised concern in the curve of his back and lines on his brow.

“Your passing was violent,” he says, “and though it may have involved that spirit you just saw, you cannot recall a thing. Am I right?”

Nathaniel nods, tries to arrange his limbs into a more comfortable sitting position. Ptolemy continues.

“It is often that way with those who die in battle or fear. So many pass through with no memory of themselves. And some, like me, stay until they recall.”

Something about Ptolemy’s hand on Nathaniel’s processed wool jumper seems incongruous.

“You can too, if you like.”

“I think I had another name.” Nathaniel says into the quiet. Ptolemy has just returned from guiding a wandering woman from the glass door. He flops down to lie on the ground alongside Nathaniel; their heads level, Nathaniel’s feet stick out a bit past Ptolemy’s. “It was John.”

Ptolemy’s hum from his left is musical in its thoughtful way. A hand comes up, darkly contrasted with their white surroundings, and traces invisible circles in the air. “Sounds like you were a magician.”

Nathaniel doesn’t like the sounds of that. He’s seen the magicians who pass through the In-Between. He knew first by Ptolemy’s pointing them out; now he knows them by their greedy, grabby hands and sharply paranoid eyes. In a sudden fit of concern, he sits up and examines himself, wishes for a mirror that does not appear. Is he one of those unpleasant souls too?

It’s just as he’s reassured himself that no, he has not suddenly morphed into a grasping, sucking vortex of greed and narcissism, that Nathaniel hears Ptolemy laugh from beside him. Laugh. Indignant, Nathaniel turns to find Ptolemy attempting to sit up, but unable to for the giggles that shake his frame.

“What? What’s so funny?”

Ptolemy is still snickering, but has managed to right himself at last. “Nothing! It’s just that, I’m sure I reacted the exact same way when I realized I was a magician. Horror-struck gasp and everything!”

In a huff, Nathaniel turns deliberately away to face the glass door. It’s not until his pique abates that he thinks about what Ptolemy said.

There is another person with them in the In-Between, for a time. Confused and disoriented, she stares with wide, overwhelmed eyes at the doors until Ptolemy places a gentle hand on her elbow. He softly repeats the same words he’d offered Nathaniel and, like Nathaniel, she accepts.

Unlike Nathaniel, she ages from the teenager she’d arrived as to an old woman in the span of three new arrivals. Lines and circles—pentacles and runes—have tattooed themselves dark and sharp, then faded into parchment-frail skin by the time the fog lifts from her gaze. Eyes clear and sad and wise, she bids him and Ptolemy farewell before the second door. The ink on her palm matches the broken pentacle sketched on dark wood.

It’s only after she’s fully gone, the door shut silently behind her, that Nathaniel turns to Ptolemy with a serious look. The other boy seems very small, very young, all of a sudden.

He doesn’t have to say anything; Ptolemy just returns the look with a placid, “Yes. I was fourteen. It took a long time before I remembered even those years, though.”

They are quiet for a span. Then, “Why are you still here?”

“I'm waiting for someone.” Another pause. “Why are you?”

“I—” Nathaniel has to think about it. “At first, I stayed because making such a big decision on so little knowledge seemed like a bad idea, but now… I think I’m waiting for someone too.”

“Do you remember their name?”

Frustrated, Nathaniel shakes his head. Ptolemy gives a gentle smile.

“I’m not surprised; Rekyt’s name was the last thing I remembered.”

“Why, do you think?”

“Probably because it was the most important.”

“What do you see?”

Nathaniel asks this to shake Ptolemy out of one of his sullen, contemplative moods. He gets like this sometimes, in long spans between arrivals. The doors invoke a frustrated silence and so he sits, cross-legged, and stares.

He breaks the stare at Nathaniel’s question.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else is there?”

Nathaniel plops down next to his friend, pushing the irritatingly long hair from his face to better watch Ptolemy’s expression. Brows drawn down over dark eyes relax out of their frown, slowly. He points to the leftmost door.

“That one looks like the city gates. Alexandria’s gates, I mean. I never got to see the world through them.”

The finger shifts right.

“That one is as I once saw it, the four elemental gates between our world and the Other Place. It tempts me, I must admit.” He stops for a moment, sighs. “Rekyt might be through there. But then, I would not be myself enough to remember him. I couldn’t bear that.”

Ptolemy is quiet for a long time. Question after question pushes at Nathaniel’s tight-closed lips while the other boy practically glares at the third door.

“That one,” he finally says, “looks like the doors in Alexandria’s library. So much knowledge behind a door I cannot yet unlock. It galls me, Nathaniel. I want to know what’s beyond—I need to know.”

They sit and look together for a while. Then Nathaniel asks, tentatively,

“Do you think he’ll want to go with you? When he does get here?”

Ptolemy’s shrug is almost desolate.

“I don’t know. But I’m not sure I could go without him. We were meant to explore the worlds together you know, before I had to go and ruin it all by dying.”

This is more grim than either boy usually allows the conversation to turn. Seeming to sense this, Ptolemy shifts his ever-burning curiosity from its current, frustrated subject to Nathaniel.

“What about you? Have your doors changed? Some people’s do, you know.”

Nathaniel shakes his head and rises to examine the doors more closely. His fingers brush the silver handle of the left door.

“No, they’re the same. But I think more familiar, now. This door was one I went through often. Maybe for work? This one—”

The center door pulls him up short.

“I’m afraid of it. When I was very young, I think it was something horrible. But the pentacle is wrong for that memory.”

Ptolemy nods, pensive.

“What you described sounds like something I worked on, in life. A broken pentacle to let your spirit flow to the Other Place.” Then he brightens considerably. “Maybe you read my book! I left all the appropriate notes; maybe someone—maybe Rekyt—finished it!”

“It’s possible. I certainly recognize you. Maybe there was a picture of you in it. Always in my mind, I see your shadow and… And…”

Nathaniel feels his existence flicker and suddenly his eyes are nearly of a height with the pentacle on the center door. The long hair is gone, now cropped short against his head.

“Kitty!”

Her sheer presence in his mind bowls him over, knocks him flat—just as that punch had, when they were so young. Her memory alone takes his breath away, is light incarnate, but there’s a certain quality about light:

The brighter the glow, the more the shadows stand out

Nathaniel is the one taken to brooding by the doors, now. Maybe talking about his fears had eased Ptolemy’s frustration, for he is calmer in the silence. Nathaniel, though, stares at the doors and fights with his mind.

Dimly, he finds this sensation familiar. In life, he thinks, I often fought with myself like this. Forcing my mind to do my bidding. If only it worked now.

Shadowy thoughts and feelings swirl around two points. Kitty’s bright aura lights some of them with its shining glow, but the black hole with Ptolemy’s silhouette darkens all that come near. Why can’t he remember?

One thing he can remember whirls ‘round and ‘round his head whenever he looks at the center door:

Demons are wicked and will hurt you if they can. Demons are wicked and will hurt you if they can. Demons are wicked and will hurt you if th—

Incessantly it repeats until Nathaniel has to flee.

Last time, he’d turned from the doors and from Ptolemy and stalked off into the empty vastness. This had gone about as well as could be expected. The blank expanse of white stretched forever, but the doors never got any further away, no matter how far he walked.

This time, he deliberately paces from the three doors to the distant single one. It is the same as ever, all shining glass and dull iron.

(For all the glass shines, it never shows what’s behind.)

He’s still there, forcing his breathing to calm—he only ever needs to breathe when the fear gets like this—when the glass door swings and he’s bathed in brilliant light.

At Ptolemy's suggestion, Nathaniel has accompanied the other boy in his guidance of many new passers through the In-Between. The ritual is always the same. No one has ever tried to call Ptolemy by any name, even the wrong one like Nathaniel did, so Ptolemy gives it freely. The arrival gives theirs in return, then manifests from an amorphous collection of matter into their truest form under his touch.

This is nothing like that. In fact, it’s the exact opposite.

The soul before him is an awesome collection of light, the likes of which Nathaniel has never seen in his time here. He actually stumbles backwards, so fierce is the glow. Before Ptolemy has even approached, Nathaniel finds himself addressed by the new arrival.

“Nathaniel?”

And the shining presence is so familiar. He reaches out, almost afraid, and finds his fingertips pressed to those of an old woman. Her blistering aura collapses itself into a body much shorter than his own, much older, with an expression on her face so blindingly nostalgic he forgets to step back before she launches at him.

“Nathaniel, you absolute prat!”

He raises his arms to fend her off with a yelp of, “Kitty, wait! I don’t—”

But the protest dies in his throat when he realizes she’s dragged him into a tight hug.

The contact is novel; as a rule, he and Ptolemy don’t touch. It seems like an odd thing to even want in this place, where bodies are obviously a construct of their own minds. Nathaniel doesn’t remember having any affectionate physicality in his life on earth, either—having or wanting— but this shakes something loose in him.

His lifted arms come up to return the embrace, and for a moment he’s holding not an old woman, but a girl barely his senior—silver tresses interspersed liberally with glossy black where her head tucks under his chin. The moment ends, but the strength of her hold does not, and they don’t part until a polite cough sounds from behind them.

A deep-seated, gentlemanly instinct sparks in Nathaniel and he turns, hand at Kitty’s back, to face Ptolemy.

“Kitty, this is—”

“Ptolemy!”

The boys’ reactions are simultaneous—Nathaniel’s a put-out frown, Ptolemy’s a confused tilt of the head—when Kitty steps forward to place marveling hands on Ptolemy’s thin shoulders.

“I always knew he was a stickler for accuracy, but to see you in person... After everything Bartimaeus told me, it’s so wonderful to meet you!”

Before she can continue, Ptolemy holds up a hand.

“Wait. Before we talk properly, and we most certainly need to, I need to tell you a few things about this place.” He glances quickly at Nathaniel, then back to Kitty. “Come with me, this won’t take long.”

Holding her hand, Ptolemy leads Kitty towards the three doors and Nathaniel doesn’t follow. This is a personal revelation, deeply intimate and best only shared with one other person—definitely not to be shared with a boy who only mostly-remembers you.

Nathaniel stays behind and the name Kitty mentioned eats at him in the quiet. He’d said it too, when he first arrived: Bartimaeus.

Other names have no business in front of this first door—the dispassionate portal of glass and iron seeks only the name of the arrival and that of the guide. So who is this Bartimaeus, to be so important to not one, but two people’s afterlives?

Rather more to the point, why is one so important such a black hole in Nathaniel’s memory?

Ptolemy and Kitty haven’t come up for air once since Kitty arrived—Nathaniel leaves them to it. He is obviously missing a key piece of the puzzle the three of them make up and Ptolemy has gone so long without a confidant like Kitty. Nathaniel can’t begrudge him that.

He picks up Ptolemy’s duties fully. On first arriving, he’d been convinced this was a job he could never do; that Ptolemy’s ability to look past the strange and horrifying manifestations was fully unique. He was wrong. With the strict discipline he’s remembering was a hallmark of his life, Nathaniel firmly sets aside the gut-deep twist in his soul whenever a spirit manifests under his offered hand, and he guides them all on.

It gets easier. As different as each soul is, one from the next, Nathaniel finds it interesting to wonder what about each individual creates their form. A name is a catalyst; for some it seems to bind and chafe, for others it brings form and purpose. With all of them, though, it is not the name itself that seems to determine their form, and he marvels.

He is not Ptolemy; his manner is not the golden, shining, unconditional glow of the other boy’s. The best Nathaniel can give, the best he hopes to bring, is the truth of his empathy.

None of his arrivals choose to stay, and Nathaniel can’t decide if he’s grateful or envious. Grateful, because whatever he and Kitty and Ptolemy have, he doesn’t want to try and figure it out with a stranger hanging about. Envious, because what he wouldn’t give for that kind of conviction in choice.

The idea of choice consumes his thoughts. The hours before his death are still lost to him, but Nathaniel can feel a weight looming over them—a choice a lifetime in the making, bearing down on the end of that life. He knows himself, now. He knows the Nathaniel-before-death would never have made a choice like that unless— unless…?

Unless someone had shown him how.

Except, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how deep he delves, the only teacher he’s known in that regard is Ptolemy—but not just Ptolemy here, in the In-Between.

Strange, intrusive memories now plague him constantly. London is burning, demons are exulting, and the spices of Alexandria’s markets burn in his nose?

He is alone; he is one with another. He is carrying someone; he is being carried, a passenger borne along by a presence inside of himself.

One moment, Pestilential tears burn into his vision—the next he’s squinting through a lion’s mane, tangled around his face and needing to be spit from his mouth.

Against Ptolemy’s advice, Kitty eventually approaches. She’s got that blazing look in her eyes, the one that captivated and terrified him so in life—the one that means she’s about to fix the world or die trying. He waves her off.

“But Nathaniel—”

“No, Kitty. I’ve seen what happens when someone is forced through this. It’s not a sight I wish on you.”

Nor anyone.

They are stubbornly locked like that for long minutes. Meeting her glare-for-glare feels so achingly familiar, and yet so foreign because that’s the wrong soul behind the right eyes. Frustrated beyond measure, Nathaniel tears himself away and scrubs a hand through his military-short hair.

How dare this Bartimaeus? How dare they take the best of his life and the peace of his afterlife—take them and twine them up in confusing, inaccessible memory?

The glass and iron door creaks. Nathaniel generally makes an effort to project calm when he approaches the arrivals, and he makes the effort now. Only, it’s not working. A scowl still draws his brows in as the great door swings open, and it only starts to fade at the sight of the ragged, bedraggled essence that tumbles through.

Nathaniel has seen spirits like this before, stretched thin and weary. Many spirits he’s guided have immediately chosen the second door. This kind, though? These are the least threatening, and they always choose the third door.

(he always imagines their trailing rags of essence twining into braid-y patterns, like cables on a cardigan)

Even with his ire simmering so close beneath the surface, Nathaniel crouches just a bit to reach out a hand to this newcomer. He doesn’t know what he expects—never knows exactly what to expect—but suddenly images flash in his mind before the spirit takes form.

(frail and gasping, a frog pooling iridescent fluid over marble tile)

(the weakest whirl of sulfurous smoke, dim yellowed eyes peering out)

(a slime-composed pyramid, edges barely defined and smelling distinctly of fish chowder)

He reaches out.

They do not touch, exactly. They are apart, and then, all of a sudden, they are not.

Nathaniel has not had a body in an immeasurable amount of time, but suddenly he remembers the feel of it—remembers the wonder of another experiencing it as a structure of delicate construction—remembers the rush of exhilaration even as that rush fills him anew.

It rushes out of him just as quickly, a sandstorm of iridescent intent stealing out of him on a breath he hadn’t remembered holding. No longer connected, he and the spirit face one another as it takes form at last under his hand.

(His hand has blisters now, never allowed to scar over.)

Both a whirling vortex of night-sky-stars and a glowing conflagration, the spirit materializes—the melancholy of the mutilated Other Place, ripped off and alone, melded with a blinding love of the human soul. It is a humanoid silhouette, Nathaniel’s height and build, with a familiar outline of curly, Macedonian hair, and an aura around darkness that’s bright as noonday splendour.

“And to think, I thought you would be the last thing I saw before dying. Beats me how you managed to be the first thing after the fact.”

(It doesn’t echo in his head-heart-soul like before, but the voice rocks Nathaniel to his core anyway.)

Nathaniel laughs—right and sure and fully himself at last, he laughs. He laughs, and then he replies,

“As if I’d ever let you have the last word, Bartimaeus.”

Kitty appears beside Nathaniel, an amused grin quirking her lined face as she eyes Bartimaeus.

“You’ve changed. I’m surprised we all actually made it here, since you seem to absorb all of our best traits into yourself as soon as we die.”

If any features were readily available, Bartimaeus would be rolling his eyes. As it is, he steps forward to ruffle Kitty’s silver hair in a familiar manner. In that moment they are three—a solid, stable shape—bound together by a love that none of them could have reached on their own; a love that originated not of them, but outside of them.

That love thrums, an invisibly golden light pulsing with a tension multiple eternities old. Kitty and Nathaniel glance at each other, nod, then step out and away as one.

In the opening they make stands Ptolemy—small, somehow shy and looking suddenly different. All his ageless wisdom has fallen away and brown hands grip the white linen of his kilt. His scholar’s pallor has deepened to a wan, sickly thing and he’s shaking on unsteady legs. His swallow before he speaks is both visible and audible; he has to struggle past it before croaking,

“Hello, Rekyt.”

Bartimaeus says nothing. He doesn’t say a thing, but steps forward with purpose, two long strides carrying him forward—carrying him close enough to kneel before the boy and pull him by the shoulders into a tight embrace. Then he says something, murmurs it into the dark curls above Ptolemy’s ear, but it’s too soft for Nathaniel and Kitty to catch. As is right—it wasn’t theirs to hear.

For his part, Ptolemy is definitely crying. His face is buried in Bartimaeus’s shoulder and he’s shaking like a leaf—full-body shudders wracking his frame as his arms tighten their grip. The usually warm-but-slightly-guarded Ptolemy has never been so vulnerable in front of Nathaniel, not even that time in front of the doors, and the older—younger?—boy blushes.

Awkwardly, Nathaniel touches Kitty’s hand and makes to turn them both away, but a voice calls him back. Bartimaeus.

“A couple thousand years in Purgatory hasn’t cured you of your emotional constipation, Nat? Get over here, both of you.”

He still doesn’t move, and Kitty has to physically drag him, pull him down to join their friends—friends, he has friends—in a puddle on the ground. Like time, and physicality and everything else, temperature doesn’t really exist in the In-Between, but Nathaniel is warmer than he can ever remember being in life. It burns like a supernova in his chest.

They are all four in front of the doors—Nathaniel next to Kitty next to Ptolemy next to Bartimaeus.

“What do you see, Rekyt?”

A very long pause then, a bit bemused,

“Well, you. All three of you, all in a line just like we are now, but without me. So, a mirror that’s somehow got busted?”

Nathaniel and Kitty look just as confused as Bartimaeus sounds, but Ptolemy starts to laugh.

“What?”

Ptolemy only laughs harder, managing to get out,

“Rekyt, you are such a sap!”

“Am not!”

“You are so!”

“Oh yeah?” Bartimaeus crosses his arms, looking supremely offended, “How’s that?”

Ptolemy is still snickering, but has gotten the actual gales of laughter under control. With a valiant attempt at his usual serenity, he points to the left-most door.

“That—”

“Nathaniel,” Bartimaeus supplies promptly.

“—is the door back to the world of humans, of earth and sky and boundaries.” Ptolemy’s finger shifts, “That one—Kitty, right?—leads to the Other Place, and this last one…”

As if the implication has only just caught up to him, Ptolemy pauses, an unreadable expression on his face as his directing finger starts to lower. Nathaniel smoothly picks up the thread.

“The last one leads on. No one knows what’s behind it—an adventure into the unknown, you might say. Ptolemy’s right, you are a sap.”

No one speaks for a long, long while; each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Bartimaeus sighs,

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve about had it with bouncing between the first two.” A gentle hand on Ptolemy’s shoulder. “What do you say? Should we bring these kids along on our long-postponed adventure?”

It’s as if a weight has been lifted off of the boy. He reaches up, tugs the hand off his shoulder and laces their fingers together. Eyes on the door, he reaches back unseeingly for Kitty’s hand. He finds it offered freely.

In her turn, Kitty reaches for Nathaniel as they step towards the plain, white door, but Nathaniel doesn’t take it. Kitty—dear, stubborn Kitty—digs her heels in and they all look back.

“Nathaniel,” she says, voice brooking no nonsense, “What are you doing?”

Nathaniel glances at the iron-and-glass door, then to the three, then back to his friends. A weight seems to be lifted off of his shoulders as well—a choice finally made.

“I’ll be along.” His smile is serene, scabbed and blistered hands clasped behind his back. “You three go on, it’s not like I don’t know where to find you.”

Kitty does not drop Ptolemy’s hand, but drags the other two back with her as she steps directly in front of Nathaniel, glaring up into his face. Before she can speak, though, Nathaniel continues,

“I know I didn’t exactly keep my last promise—”

“Too right, you didn’t!”

“—but I will, this time. I swear it.”

Tears are bright in Kitty’s eyes, choking up her voice and making her hands shake. Ptolemy squeezes her hand as he steps up beside her.

“He’ll catch us up, Kitty. After all,” the boy shoots Nathaniel a sly grin, “he knows we’ll come looking for him if he doesn’t. If we walk enough worlds, we’ll eventually make it back here to drag him along, if need be.”

His voice has the bite of a threat, but Nathaniel knows Ptolemy now—knows that under his friend’s teasing is approval. There should always be a guide.

Bartimaeus taps Kitty on the shoulder.

“Budge over, you two.”

They do. Bartimaeus steps forward, places hands on Nathaniel’s shoulders, and leans down to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead.

“Don’t be too long.”

Kitty and Ptolemy are suddenly there too, arms wrapped around him in tight hugs. Nathaniel nods, suddenly choked up himself. He remembers this feeling—the last thing he felt before the end. To be loved so much by even one, let alone three... It nearly breaks him.

“I will, I promise.”

The three draw back. They look at him, long and steady, then Kitty turns first to face the white door. Ptolemy is next, excitement clear in his bearing. Last to turn away is Bartimaeus, lingering to look back at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel’s expression is soft, not quite a smile.

“Go on. I’ll see you all soon.”

And they do.

The door clicks shut behind them.

Movement at his back, and he turns. The door of glass and iron swings silently open on invisible hinges. Nathaniel walks to meet it—through the flat, quiet whiteness of this dimension. A fall of essence imposes itself upon the space, tumbling through the door.

With a soft smile, a starburst of white burning in his soul, he says,

“Hello. My name is Nathaniel.”

fin

#The Bartimaeus Trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus #Nathaniel #Ptolemy #bartimaeus trilogy #AvinRyd #fics of ryd

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se7enforse7en · 3 years

Text

One — Great Tree Moon

synopsis: THE ALLURE OF DARKNESS WAS ATTRACTIVE TO THOSE STAINED IN THE LIGHT. Nyx Νύχτα grasped the idea long ago. The native to the empire had understood the balance between dark and light for too long. One couldn’t survive without the other. The darkness had stained her long ago while the light had barely reached out even in the light of day. Even now, as she was shrouded in darkness in the night. There was not a single soul who had only one within them. And while she had known that long ago, she found that lesson even more apparent in the company of the religious organization she's been aware of her whole life - the church of Seiros. Their influence had been felt all throughout Fodlan for quite some time. In that influence, stood the future of Fodlan nobility & lesser folk. The heads of Fhaerghus, The Empire, & The Ancestor Alliance are led into greatness by their time at the Monastery, a school meant to shape them into kings and queens. Hundreds of years of success have allowed boasting. However, in the year 1186, things don't go as easily. For Nyx Νύχτα, she's a part of an ugly score in a history she wished she never knew about.

pairings: multiple oc’s x multiple characters / mostly dimitri x oc / sylvain x oc / m!byleth x claude / f!byleth x edelgard

genre: angst, romance, drama

warnings: strong language, blood, death, basically over the top angst

parts: one / two / three / four / five

THE ALLURE OF DARKNESS WAS ATTRACTIVE TO THOSE STAINED IN THE LIGHT. Nyx Νύχτα grasped the idea long ago. The native to the empire had understood the balance between dark and light for too long. One couldn’t survive without the other. The darkness had stained her long ago while the light had barely reached out even in the light of day. Even now, as she was shrouded in darkness in the night.

She walked through the camp stationed in the woods, belonging to a certain Jeralt Eisner, The Blade Breaker. Her heeled boots created a pattern of quiet footsteps as she made a beeline for the man’s tent. Her cloak flowed around her, covering a majority of her figure. Her black but snug tunic was visible underneath, the arms being cut off for comfort. Her knuckles were adorned with fingerless gloves as her legs were hugged tight by her cotton but semi-gold laced pants. Her sword fit perfectly in it’s holder amongst her waist as the belt had been secured from long ago. Underneath her sheathed weapon, pieces of empire fabric had been tied around her waist with a gold trinket or two holding it in place. Over all of that had been an overcoat worthy of a rogue. It had contrasted the palette of her equipment with a glorious red & black lining apparent.

Her raven-like locks had been tied as a mod-long braid with somewhat intricate braid patterns. A braid in itself was found near the beginning of her locks to the back of it, making a braided circle of sorts. It had been a bit elaborate for the swordswoman but it had been functional for the time being. The tent’s flaps had been obstructed as she moved it aside, walking towards the twins she had been looking for.

The pair of dark bluenettes had their gazes on different maps, intently studying them. They had always been intense for their own good and perhaps their individual bad. Stepping further on, she alerted the two as they spared a slight glance in her direction. She slightly met their gazes quickly enough. “Byleth,” she called out to them both, not realizing they whipped their heads up simultaneously. “Eh, Aether?” She clarified awkwardly as Hemera, the other twin, had gone back to her intense study of the maps. “Where’s Jeralt? We need to talk, pronto.” She quipped a raised eyebrow at the armor clad boy as he thought about the last he had seen of his blonde father.

“I believe he was in the back of the tent over, Nyx.”

“Thanks,” she raised an obligatory hand as quick thanks before heading to the mentioned tent with motivation. As predicted, the blonde mercenary had been writing down a few things of his own. She could only assume it was some important document or something he’d only read. She smirked at his calm form, his eyes focused merely on his pen & quill. The candle near his face showed little way to his scars as well. “Still writing in that diary of yours?”

“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people, kid.” His head shot up to her gaze as he stood up from his little writings. He bundled all the papers together, as to not have it so easily seen. “I thought you were coming next week for that village I told you about.”

“Well,” she reached into one of her several pockets for the pristine envelope. It had barely been touched so it’d contain it’s contents in a clean matter. “We need to talk about this.” His face morphed into confusion whilst she sighed. “Do not play dumb, Jeralt. You’re too old for that and I’m sure those wonder twins would delight in some secrets.” It had been clear the last few words had been in humor but even Jeralt could find it concerning.

“Maybe I just forgot about it for a moment?”

“Maybe.” She handed him the white envelope, sure to not crinkle it. His rough hands take hold of it. Opening it, his mind flooded with memories of writing the exact letter weeks beforehand. He sighs. He forgot just how pissed she was going to be at his most recent letter. “Mind explaining what the fuck you wrote?”

“Nyx—“

“‘There’s no more information,’ he says,” she mocks the older mercenary as recalls his exact words. “‘It will be fine,’ he says. No information, my ass!” Her eyes twitch in anger as he looks to the side, almost guilt ridden. “I know for a fact that there’s something you’re hiding.”

“What reason would I have to hide anything?”

‘Far too many,’ the voice rang in her mind. She scoffed at him as she thought on the voice she’d been too familiar with. His deep and firm voice held his usual tone of distrust. In her own mind, he slightly gritted his teeth as his smooth, golden brown skin felt aflame at the suspicions he held. He had his own qualms about Jeralt, the Blade Breaker or rather, Jeralt Eisner. They didn’t know much of him before his twins’ birth. It was natural to be suspicious. The only non-suspicious element was the twins, themselves. They felt. . . oddly familiar to them both and it was clear they held no unnecessary secrets. ‘He won’t say shit, especially if it concerns that pair.’

‘I know. We might as well be back at square one,’ she thought to herself, making sure not to voice her response to the voice she’d grown accustomed to. Narrowing her eyes, she crosses her arms. “If you don’t want to admit it, I have no safe way of getting it from you, anyways. I just hope whatever you’re hiding doesn’t harm those two.”

“We both share that hope, Nyx.” He sighed as he brought a hand to scratch the back of his head. He could still feel the woman’s glare upon him. He had his own reasons for his choices and he was sure nothing he did would be out in the open so soon. Too bad he couldn’t see the future. “Nonetheless, I need to know if you’re still willing to help for next week’s job.”

She laughed. He got right to business, even as she was pissed at the older man. The voice in her mind had an equally hearty laugh before settling in his hard throne. He stared forward with his golden but white tinted eyes. His black & white threaded hair fell behind him, allowing him to be at slight ease once more. Rolling her eyes, she raises her hands in a slumped manner to signal her defeat. “Fine. I won’t forget your little secrets or your wittle diary either, Eisner.”

“Hmph, I know—“ he began to chuckle before they heard the laboured breaths of his men. They came bustling in, undoubtedly tired with his armor weighing him down.

“S-Sir Jeralt!”

“What is it?” He had told his soldiers to not disturb him at many times of the night unless utterly necessary.

“T-T-There’s been an emergency, sir! Three kids. There’s bandits!”

‘Well, that’s intriguing.’

#fire emblem #fire emblem 16 #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri blaiddyd #felix fraldarius #sylvain gautier #ashe ubert #ingrid brandl galatea

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kendrixtermina · 4 years

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The "waifu bait" criticism of Edelgard is so dumb given that most of the cast is technically waifu/husbando bait in one way or another, they're all meant to appeal to players as romance options, and she's the only one getting flack for it. (Well, not the only one, there were some people giving Dimitri shit too for being "wish fullfillment for stupid teenage girls who think they can fix a man," but I see the complaint most often with Edelgard.)

Yeah. I mean, you can boink Rhea and Jeritza!

It’s not like satelite love interests aren’t a plague onto anime and fiction in general, but I only ever hear this “you only like them because they’re waifu/bishie” thing directed at characters who very much DO have personality, unique compelling features and plot relevance.

I’ve also seen this thrown at, say, Evangelion’s Miss Ayanami, as if all the fascinating sci-fi concept stuff and compelling narrative about finding your own worth and making a connection in a cruel lonely world wasn’t there - and at least we do see her through a “main character’s love interest” sorta lens. (I was thinking about how Byleth is actually quite similar, except more proactive with more of a dorky side, and less philosophical/reflective, but because Byleth is the MC we come off with a fairly different impression. )

Meanwhile with Edelgard they really didn’t pull any punches, the whole story is set in motion and dominated by her active choices, most the unique designs/outfits she gets are geared to look elegant/powerful. (Apart from the usual ‘individually wrapped boob armor would break your sternum’ thing but you’d really have to know physics for that/ could be fixed easily by making the fit more sweater-like), she has a specific discernable philosophy and makes impactful choices, that can genuinely be agreed or disagreed with.

You can’t swag her into your way of thinking - you can only ally with her under the presupposition that you already actively agree. (See all the people complaining that you cant “criticise her more”, expecting her to be like Dimitri basically even though they are exact opposites. You can only get on her route by making two deliberate choices. I mean they wrote this with your first playthrough in mind, in-universe you’re not there because you wanna complete all aroutes but because you actively chose to join her after she spent a year unsubtly trying to recruit you to her cause)

You don’t talk Claude out of his tactics either. (and forcing it all into this comparision often leads ppl to overlook that he has ambiguities or character development at all, maybe he isn’t vilified but he gets simplified and therefore wronged just as much in the end. They’re not all Dimitri. The whole point of having three or four different potential deuteragonists to choose from is that they’re different)… heck, even if you look at Dimitri, you only get him back to what he really wanted to do back in part I before his black-and-white thinking and exaggerated sense of duty got the better of him.

With all three, joining them eventually just enables them to get closer to their actual vision. Back when you meet her in Remire, Edelgard outright tells you that “with your power on my side, we could courttail the slitherer’s atrocities much more efficiently”. You don’t change her mind at all; You enable her to use “Plan A”. Same with Claude, who otherwise plains much more defensively both because he has less support and because he’s more jaded. And Dimitri essentially pulls a Sayaka, ie being unable to live up to his own unrealistic standards drive him to lose all hope and become the very opposite of the hero he wanted to be, but you do help him get back to that, or to a more balanced mature understanding of that.

The best proof of that is that the popularity poll numbers actually went down after the release, ie a lot of ppl who liked her just bc they liked her design were turned off that there’s a specific personality there that isn’t necessarily their type/ a MO they don’t necessarily agree with. Or all those peeps complaining that the S-support was too understated for them. Claude got that too - They’re just not the most open/expressive people in the world, one would think that after playing through their routes you would know and understand that. Whereas Dimitri has been super emotional from day one (which is both his greatest strength and greatest weakness), so it figures that he’d be more conventionally romantic.

- Hardly things that would happen if she were written to be “blandly pleasant”. I mean generally speaking she’s not the best as showing her feelings and when she does she’s often pretty blunt at it even with her closest friends (El: ”Hubert! I order you to tell me what it is you’re not telling me!” Hubert: [elegantly weasels out of answering] El: [after he’s left the room] I’m worried about him tho. )

Seems senseless to claim that she’s blandly pleasant when she’s absolutely gotten a love-it-or-hate-it-marmite-reaction all across the board. It also seems to go along with the implicit idea that everyone who likes her is heterosexual boys. I’m neither, and it’s not like heterosexual boys aren’t ever interested in “plot” or “writing” I mean geez. Though I would resist the temptation to fully ascribe it to things like that.

To an extent it’s simply confusion. “How can they like this thing that obviously sucks? Must be an ulterior motive”, whereas in reality ppl who like her have probably parsed what happened here differently to begin with (It depends greatly on how powerful you concluded Rhea was, ie, wether what Edelgard is doing is a conquest or a revolt. She certainly sees it as a revolt. Even today in the modern day most of us see revolts as legitimate, or at least, if they get overly destructive, as a fault of the bad government. Heck, there are many on this very site who would label all revolts legit by default (”eat the rich”, the more ‘original sin-like’ variants of privilege theory) which is further than I would go )

There certainly are a bunch of ‘cute’ scenes post holy-tomb scene and under the assumption that Edelgard is this my-way-or-the-highway type of person that many have her pegged as I can see how they might think that it “makes no sense” but that’s really down to wanting her not tp step outside of that idea they have of her. I mean even supervillains have silly everyday situations. Bin Laden loved Disney Movies, Hitler loved his dogs. By itself that has nothing to do with morality or likeability. It’s just being human. Supervillains blush, not because they’re not villains, but because they have blood vessels in their faces. It’s only logical that once you get close to someone and get them to trust you, you get to see more of their silly or vulnerable sides. It’s the same with Rhea. (except that the same people argue that having personable vulnerable sides at all makes Rhea good s of course it causes some cognitive dissonance when Edelgard also has them. I’ve yet to see ppl calling “waifuism” on Rhea (whom I would consider a full-fledged villain), and they shouldn’t - it’s characterization.) Same with ppl calling Edelgard a “manchild” for liking stuffed animals and sweets. She’s actually very mature and adult for her age, having some interests that aren’t super high-minded is just realistic and if you looked at her as a full 3D person who can have more than one trait you’d see that.

This also goes with that tendency of holding up AM as the gold standard complaining about the lack of AM-like plot that they completely miss the different but equally compelling character arcs in VW and CF. That’s not a lack of arc, that IS the arc, it’s just a different arc: We get to see this tough, in-control high-minded character who’d completely given up on the normal life she wanted so much and resigned herself to never being understood finding out that she is very much still capable of normalcy and humanity and finding friendship and love and I think that’s beautiful. It’s my jam.

And it’s meaningful precisely because it’s a change from only seeing the tough leader guise otherwise. Complaining about that is like complaining about getting to see Claude’s more wistful, dreamy, benevolent, not-entirely self-interest side in VW or claiming that the writing would be better if he were just a straight-up selfish trickster. Actually, if you removed their heroic traits you’d end up with a lot more generic characters. You’d simply get every wild card trickster ever, and every “Nietzschean” villain ever. It’s the fact that they’re unconventional heroes that makes Claude and Edelgard so unique, compelling and interesting. If you like conventional heroes, Dimitri is right here. Your basic heroic fantasy ‘rightful king returns/ soft peace loving hero’, plus your basic jrpg guilt-ridden angsty protagonist. I mean there’s good reason that these character archetypes are popular. Plus he’s especially well-executed and recontextualized by the contrast to the others, but there he is, enjoy him! We’re not stopping you.

It’s really Seteth who came up short arc wise. You could have given him an arc, the potential was there, he essentially transistions from protecting himself and his family to taking on his family’s heroic quest and rising up to that, but he doesn’t get like, a scene reflecting on that. Or you could’ve sent them on some mission to actually curb some corrupt cardinals etc, shown them actually reforming the church and realizing that it wasn’t all perfect, after all he very much knows that Rhea herself wasn’t all perfect.

For all that much of media is obsessed with making characters “hot”, the truth is that if people like them for any reason, they will find them hot anyways, regardless of whether that was the intention. (unless the people in question are aroace, or the character is a literal, realistic prepubescent child)

You don’t have to “make” a character hot for ppl to find them so.

#fire emblem: three houses #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #edelgard von hresvelg

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baekhyuq · 5 years

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“Déjà vu.” | Baekhyun (m) Teacher!AU | Chapter 2.

Title: Sensory Strip

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst (maybe)

Warnings: Smut/Language

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Your new obsession as of late has been masturbating sessions when your favorite cam boy is live-streaming . But too bad some nights you’ve got too much homework due from your Psychology teacher to watch your oh so hot cam boy.

deja vu masterlist

<<prev — next>>

The day before made you anxious, looking all over for a man who could even slightly resemble your oh so hot cam boy. He knew about you, but you had absolutely no clue who it could be. Your Psychology class actually had a field trip to a history of psychology museum which would’ve been exciting if you were looking over your shoulder every three seconds.

After the bus was unloaded and people took interest in different things at the museum, you immediately felt someone’s eyes following you. Your Professor’s to be exact, his eyes were trained on your figure moving across the room to each artifact. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second. The museum was filled with small things here and there, many rooms leading into others. There was one particular section that caught your eye, a room filled with brains, animal brains, human brains, insect brains. A horrible sight but nonetheless very interesting. Professor Byun was stood at one of the brains, specifically the human brain.

Your feet automatically took you to him, his presence alone made you cower. His broad shoulders with his contrasting cute lips made you want to either squish his cheeks. Your figure stood beside his taller one, peering down at the brain submerged in preservatives in a glass jar. The silence got to you, your ears were ringing and the only sound that you could hear was your own breathing. It’s as if he was holding his breath.

“Could you point out the parts of the brain?” Professor Byun asked, his hands behind his back. You hesitated in your answer “I don’t think so.” You looked around the jar pointing out the front of the brain, “I know this is the frontal lobe.” You craned your neck some more to see around the jar, pointing at another part of the brain. “This is motor strip and.” You pointed again, “I think that’s all I know.”

You could hear him hum in response, your eyes trained on the brain. You would crack under pressure and surely would crack under you professors gaze. “Here is the sensory strip.” His hand casually went on the small of your back. You tensed up immediately. “Yours seems to be working just fine.”

His breath was close to your face and you could smell the mint he was sucking on earlier. “And this,” He pointed to the right of the brain, “Is the parietal lobe.” He continued naming them and pointing them out, his hand leaving my back and resting on my shoulder. His voice was so familiar to you, but your memory was nonexistent so you couldn’t remember when or where you’d met him before.

The room fell silent and you stepped away from him, his body heat being replaced with the cold room. “Excuse me, I’m going to use the restroom.” Professor Byun said, giving you a small smile before rushing off toward the restrooms. Your cheeks lit up and you felt as if your face would catch on fire from how hot it was. His close proximity made you gag in embarrassment. Your phone buzzed, indicating a alert. You glanced down at it and your eyes went wide. . “B-Bear is now online.” You shook your head before your eye scanned the room. He had to go live now? You rushed toward the restrooms and saw that it was actually an all gender bathroom. Very strange for a museum. You went toward one of the stalls, quietly locking it. You plugged in your headphones and you felt another buzz from your phone. “B-Bear is now live.” You clicked the notification as fast as your thumb could and your phone was redirected to the sight you weren’t ready for. His hand was already on his dick, pumping it slowly. He had his earphones in and you could see somewhat of his surroundings, tiles, side by side wall.

He was in a bathroom. More specifically he was in this bathroom. You took one of your headphone out and listened to the bathroom. You could hear quiet slick noises from your phone and in the bathroom. You gathered all your courage and typed on the chat, “Where are you right now?” He read the question out before answering. “I’m actually at a museum right now. I’m not supposed to be in here doing this but... My mystery woman made me this hard.” He practically moaned, his voice traveled to your ears more clearly through the earphones and you couldn’t help but to connect some of the pieces in your head. The voice, the location, all the coincidences leading up till now. You cant believe you didn’t put the pieces together before, after all this time of watching B-Bear and hearing his voice seeing his lips. There’s no way this isn’t who you think it is. But how do you go about confronting him? How would you explain this, how about the good old “I watch you masturbate every night and realized you were somebody I know.” You couldn’t muster up the courage to even spit that out in a complete sentence. “I think i’m going to cum, just thinking about her and the way she smells and the feel of her soft skin. I cant get the thought out of my head.” He practically moaned. Your panties started to dampen at the sight of him jerking off to you only, you clamped your thighs together before you spread them apart and started to rub your clit in circles to quickly get off. You bit your lip and held your phone up to a viewing distance. His slick noises mixed in with his quiet grunts and you accidentally let out a quite loud moan. You hear silence, and you see the man on the live still. His head turns toward the stall that is yours and you hold your breath. His face ducks from out of his phones view and you can only imagine he’s looking under the stall so you quickly pick up your feet till you see his head reappear. “I could’ve sworn I heard her voice.” He says into his earphone mic. “I sound ridiculous, liking somebody so much i’m hearing their voice. I’m finished here guys, sorry for this spur of the moment live.” And with that the livestream ends. Your phone screen goes black and you feel as if your chest has sunken in. You cant move an inch, you hear the stall door next to you open and see a flash of black through your stall door. You hear the faucet turn on and the man quickly leaves after.

You let out the breath you held the whole time and furrow your brows. There’s only one man who talks like that in this whole town and it’s Professor Byun himself. You cant deny any of the stupid coincidences, him stupidly mentioning both your encounters on his live-stream, his stupid voice and his stupid hands and his even more stupid lips. You weren’t too sure on how to confront him quite yet, maybe you could have some fun.

Maybe you could have you cake and eat it too.

The following days after finding out your Psychology teacher is your favorite cam boy had made you look at him entire different. You see him as more of a toy now. You come into class flaunting your body in order to see what his response would be on the livestream later that night. Your heart beats like crazy when he talks about you, his livestream is basically a ted talk dedicated to you only. You know plus masterbating and all.

The one day that your beloved cam boy wasn’t teaching you were sad, the substitute was an old lady who did not want to see your skimpy dress and taught whatever Byun had left for her to teach. You sadly left the class after it ended, not impressing anybody but yourself for the effort. Deciding to watch a new movie, you take a trip to your local cinema. You settle on watching a scary movie and and you’re given a seating ticket, lucky number 59. You settle into your seat, pulling out candy you snuck in, because cinema’s food is overpriced ridiculously.

As you were digging through your purse you felt somebody slide by your legs and into the seat by you. “Excuse me, sorry.” They said, and you froze instantly. You mumbled a “It’s okay.” Before trying to practically rip your soul out your chest for even responding. “Y/n?” His voice said your name so heavenly it should be a sin. You slowly turned toward your Professor. “P-Professor Byun, weird seeing you here.” You tried to sound casual but you knew you were failing miserably. “I actually exist outside of the school, surprising I know.” He joked, you couldn’t look over how he was dressed so casually. “I didn’t mean it like that-I. Why didn’t you teach today?” You brought up, his mouth went into an “o” shape and he let out a nervous breath. “I had some business to take care of. I would’ve been too late to teach the class so I called in for a substitute. Hope she wasn’t too boring, because I know psychology is just so fun.” He laughed, hitting my knee with his own. “Psychology isn’t that boring,” You retorted, he gave you a look that told you he wasn’t convinced. “Like, it isn’t that uninteresting that I’d want to not come to class. Some things are actually really cool to learn about, Professor.” You smiled slightly, almost hinting that the best thing you’ve learned this semester is that your favorite cam boy is your AP Psych teacher. “Well i’m glad I can make the class more bearable. And stop calling me Professor, call me Baekhyun outside of class.” He laughed a laugh that was warm and filled with his honey vocal cords. “I wouldn’t take you for somebody who like scary movies.” He said quietly when the movie started and warned people to have their phones on silent or grab food from their concession stand. “I love horror, I don’t think there’s another genre that interests me, maybe romance but not really.” You we’re surprised at your free speech, you wouldn’t stuttering and tripping over your words for once. Your new found confidence in knowing your Psych teacher was infatuated with you was a boost to your ego almost. “Romance?” He leaned his arm on the arm rest and rested his hand on his thigh. “I would’ve guessed that first.” He laughed quietly. “Shhh, the movies starting.” You popped a piece of candy in your mouth.

The movie started off slow, building suspension and sometimes using cheap jump scares to make you flinch. But Baekhyun never moved, he was unfazed by the short scares and blood and gore. “You don’t seem scared Baekhyun?” You whispered in his direction. “I’m not really scared by these movies, I think real life situations scare me more.”

You smirked somewhat.

“What scares you the most?” You questioned.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Getting caught scares me the most.”

You arms were covered in goosebumps, knowing his biggest secret and his biggest fear had you feeling on top of the world but also scared. You knew so much about him it was weird, he had no idea about you. What it took to make you cum, what words you liked to be called in bed. How many rounds could you go until you were exhausted. He knew nothing. “Me too.”

The movie was towards the end and you and Baekhyun had eaten all your snacks, when it ended you agreed to make this movie thing a ritual. Every Thursday night would be a movie date kind of. It was fun, you felt as if you actually went on a date with Baekhyun, his charismatic character naturally made you feel as if he was interested in every word you said. His character just made you feel as if you actually belonged with him. Not as a teacher and student relationship but as more. You headed back to your apartment being greeted by your small cat, Kora. She mewled and rubbed against your calves for attention which you gladly gave. You looked around for your earphones which you couldn’t find for the life of you and as if one que, your phone buzzed. “Hey you left your headphones in your bag, which you also left with me. I also don’t know how i didn’t realize this wasn’t my bag while walking out the cinema.” It was from an unknown caller but you immediately knew who it was. “Sorry Baekhyun! I didn’t realize I left it till now too, where are you i’ll come to you.” You texted back with one hand as the other slid on your shoes and grabbed your keys. Baekhyun sent an address which appeared to be his apartment and you were on the way.

Baekhyun’s apartment was on the 4th floor and guess what? The elevator was conveniently down this day. So after walking up four flights of stairs you reached Baekhyun’s door, you knocked twice and the door was opened along with a barking pup at your feet. “Hey, sorry about the bag thing-are you out of breath?” Baekhyun almost laughed at your figure busting into the room to get a glass of water and taking a seat at his kitchen island. “Oh my god, please let them fix the elevator next time.” “Next time?” “Uh...for people like me who aren’t fit enough for four or more flights of stairs-oh my god dog.” You instantly reached down to pet the short corgi pup. “Yeah, it must have just broken down it was fine 30 minutes ago. Anyways, sorry for taking your bag.” Baekhyun handed you your tote bag and you noticed the cut on his hand. “Its not a big deal, unless I had to run up four flights of stairs again, then we might have a problem. But thanks, see you at class next week.” Baekhyun mouth opened and closed. “W-would you like to hang out sometime?” His stuttering voice made your stomach full with butterflies. “Hang out?” You repeated, he nodded. “I know student and teacher relationships are forbidden but-“ You cut him off “It doesn’t matter if we don’t get caught right.”

“Right.”

“Then yes, i’d love to hang out.”

Taglist: @deliciouslydisturbed365 @92byunie

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anon-luv · 6 years

Text

I’ll Never Be Her *(FINALE)*

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his.

Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around.

She was his ex girlfriend, his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back.

He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all.

At least for now.

Rated M: Sexual Scenes and Languages that might not be appropriate for all ages.

Word Count: 5.2K+

Author’s Note: Hey loves. Sorry for taking so long writing this chapter. I wanted it to feel realistic and not too overwhelming since the whole story was quite an emotional bomb. There is an epilogue coming out which will have a few surprises and let you peek in into Jimin’s and (Y/N)’s life 2 years down the road. You can choose to stop here or go ahead and wait for the epilogue, it is up to you loves. It will be a short epilogue drabble so it may be up by next weekend. Thank you all for sticking through this!! I know we all divided into Teams for the boys and we all cried and debated over y/n’s life together. I hope you enjoyed this story and I am hoping you will enjoy my future ones. I have so many things going out of hiatus that will continue to be written and some new projects I am working on. My upcoming works so far include(for those curious souls):

Goodnight Moon (BadGirlGoodBoyAU Jungkook OneShot)

Countdown To Us Chpt 2 (SoulmateAU) TaexReader, YoongiXReader

Aphrodesia Chpt 1 (Jungkook StripperAU)Untitled (Jin BestFriendAU One Shot)

New (SEQUEL to Borrowed) Yoongi X Reader

I want to thank all my readers and mutuals for their support.

Specially @b-angst-tan who has been a lovely editor/ beta love her!!

I also want to thank @msserenityli for helping me choose the twins names lol. That took me forever and a day.

It took me forever to get the courage to post this, so I really hope you enjoy. Show me some love. I really enjoy reading your comments, messages, and tags when you reblog. LOVE YALL!

You were more than sure there was a knife piercing through your lower abdomen as you yelled obscenities up in the air for the world to hear.

Magical. That was what the birthing coach had repeated countless times as Jimin held your hand as you practiced breathing techniques in that vomit-green mat.

LIES! They had all been lies. The feelings, the breathing techniques, and the way Jimin had held your hand while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“I FUCKING HATE THAT MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH AND HIS FREAKING SPERM. CURSE HIM TO HELL!!!!” you yelled as Jin’s car came to a complete stop in front of the hospital driveway.

“I think you need to relax and breathe, remember like Ms.Hope made you do in those classes you took,” Jin said with a grimace as he jumped out of the car to help you out.

You glared at him through the window as he rushed his way into the building only to come out running with a wheelchair in tow, “You mean the ones you forced me to take??”

“Hey, I didn’t tie you down and take you against your will, I just signed you up and paid without asking you first” Jin opened the door carefully helping you up and placing you on the chair. A nurse came out after him to escort both of you into the lobby where a few other ladies grimaced your way as they patted their stomach while they panted almost in a synchronized fashion.

“We just need some information sweetie, think your partner here can take care of that while we wheel you to the back to start our assessment??” the older looking nurse asked as she took over the wheelchair.

“We are not together together, but sure. Don’t worry about it (Y/n), I got this.” Jin replied as another wave of contractions hit you full force.

“Ahhh ….okay...okay” you shouted as you were rolled into a light blue hallway, Jin no longer by your side.

You took deep even breaths trying to relax your tensed up muscles. Your birthing plan had not included a solo labor, but unless Jimin had some sort of superhero intuition you would have to adapt and conquer the situation.

“Okay hun, let’s get you in a gown before anything. How far apart are your contractions??” she asked as she assisted you on your swollen tomato red looking feet.

“Umm…. I would have to say between. Every 6 to 8 minutes and about 30 seconds each… I think-” you replied slightly stuttering as the weight of the situation started falling upon your shoulders, you were about to become a mom. Your eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and fear.

The nurse smiled softly in your direction, “Don’t worry about it. You got this, you are a strong one I can tell” she said winking your way.

You nodded at her silently as she started making her way out of the room.

“Go ahead and rest. The doctor should be in at any second” she said closing the door behind her.

You made yourself right at home laying on the strange and slightly hard medical bed. The monitors in the room were scattered around the place making the place feel a tiny bit intimidating. The 40 inch TV on the wall seemed oddly comforting and homey and you would be more than delighted if you could only figure out how to turn it on without falling on your face as a weird plan started flowing through your mind of standing on a chair and jump to reach the power button. The plus and minus button on the white control on your bed seemed to be the solution as you examined it closely, scared it would send one of the monitors into a frenzy you clicked it cautiously as if the slow touch would lessen the trigger of whatever was about to happen.

“I hope to the heavens this doesn't set off an alarm” you whispered to yourself as you made your mind up to click the plus sign. As soon as you pressed the red button the bed vibrated and roared to life as your feet rose up in a surprisingly high speed tilting your feet up towards the air whilst your hospital gown scooted upwards leaving all your lady bits uncovered.

With your luck, it shouldn’t have come to your surprise to hear the door slam open right on time to witness your a la nude display, a deep low chuckle flowed through the air, “I see you are anxious to get them treasures out huh??”

“Oh shit, I mean I am sorry for cussing … I just… sorry Doctor Kim” you stammered out trying to cover your blushing cheeks with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. I heard you cussing down the hall, as long as those bad words are not thrown my way we are all peachy in here, now let’s get them feet back in place huh??” he replied with a chuckle as he pressed a button on the side of the bed leveling you out back in place and raising the headrest a tiny bit making everything more comfortable.

You eyed the handsome doctor from top to bottom taking in the contrast of his serious demeanor versus his kind words. As if he knew he was carefully examined he threw a rectangular smile your way quickly lifting up the tension in the room.

“These beds can be tricky, and quite amusing if you are in the right mood.” He said as he slipped on some gloves, “Now let’s take a look and see how far along you are. Open your legs slightly for me… this might feel slightly uncomfortable. Do you blush quite this often on a daily basis??”

Your blush depend as you managed to shake your head no as you felt a cold sensation making you jump slightly in place.

The door opened once again at that exact moment, Jimin’s head poking in looking flushed and slightly out of breath, “Sorry am I late??? I came here as fast as I could manage with the after-school traffic” he said as his eyes wandered around the room taking in the dull colors on the walls and weird medical jargon scribbled across random anatomy posters, then landing straight on the sight of Doctor Kim with his hand right up your gown.

Jimin coughed awkwardly, trying to remind himself he was in a professional setting and that he had to get his mind out of an endless pit of the gutter it had landed on as his instinctive self-had placed almost automatically as he came to the realization of how handsome Dr.Kim truly was.

“Actually, you are right on time to assist on labor pains. She is dilated at a 6 and currently on active labor" Dr. Kim explained as he stood up taking both of his gloves off as he walked towards Jimin, “Now it is expected of the father to assist the mother of his children through this enchanting life changing yet painful journey through comfort during these times, but if you give her any trouble I will personally kick your ass out of here, and it will no longer be Doctor Kim in the room, but Kim Taehyung just an FYI buddy” Dr. Kim stated as he gave him an innocent broad rectangular smile his way and a wink your way.

“Epidural??” Dr. Kim asked as if the previous conversation hadn't happened a few seconds ago.

You nodded, “I think I am going to….Ahhh,” you said being cut off by another rush of contractions.

“Got it… the anesthesiologist will be right in” Dr. Kim stated as he walked out of the room leaving you alone with a disheveled looking Jimin.

You frowned his way trying to ignore his presence yet failing. You were clearly mad and frustrated at him and he knew it.

“(Y/N), I am sorry… I had to go” Jimin began to explain as he approached your bedside. His voice barely above a whisper and trembling at the end. You knew he was on the verge of tears, but at this point, you could care any less as another yelp came from your lips from the stabbing sensation on the back of your spine. You breathed in deeply trying to ease the painful sensation that had traveled upwards making your whole body squirm uncomfortably.

“You … didn’t have to go Jimin. No one was holding a gun to your head. You went because you wanted to, you needed to be there for Stephany, even if it meant leaving me behind AGAIN” you said as the pain that flowed through your eyes switched to rage as you eyed him from head to toes.

“No no, that is not at all what it is. It has never been Stephany (Y/n). I went to say goodbye. Yoongi called me, and he told me he was planning to propose a change of scenery to Steph and I knew I had to say goodbye, not to Stephany so much as I had to go say bye to Nataly. That little girl is like a niece to me and she reminds me so much of the bright and cheerful Stephany I had once called my best friend. She has so much light in her and I… that little girl is like a piece of Stephany I thought had been lost and I am so scared that she will get hurt just like her mama did. I have been there for her just as much as I have been there for her mom, and I know the whole situation Stephany is putting Yoongi and Nataly through is completely unfair to the both of them. I should have been there for you… I am sorry” Jimin replied as he buried his face in his hands, “I am so sorry, and I know that won’t change a thing but-”

“AHH!” you screamed as your uterus roared to life once again making every other issue in the world seem minute to the immense pain now bursting through you.

Jimin ran towards you grabbing a hold of your hand immediately, “Breath (Y/N), Breath…”

“Easy for you to say you son of a bi...AH!!!!” you replied earning you a grimace from Jimin’s whose hand looked redder than a tomato as you held on to it as your life depended on it.

Sweat was now dripping down your forehead as Jimin ran his fingers through your hair and counted breaths easing you out of the contraction.

“That felt like it was a lot longer than the last one,” you said as you adjusted yourself. The previous discussion left behind as the reality came once again crashing full force in your face, “Jimin… I am scared” you admitted in a quiet sob as he scooted himself into the bed beside to you.

“It is okay to be scared love. If you weren’t I would be scared. Our lives are about to change in a manner of hours...maybe even minutes. You and I have not had the greatest of relationships in the world, and I took you for granted for so long… I can’t even fathom to ever forgive myself, but I can tell you right now that I am going cherish every single second of the day beside our little angels tenfold. You are my family (y/n), and if you can give me another chance to prove it to you...I would give my world up for you. I know today was not the greatest of examples, and once again I shouldn’t have been scared to let you know what was going on. You are more than just my girlfriend, you are my partner in crime and I should treat you as such. I LOVE YOU! I will love you always and forever...even if you choose not to be with me anymore” Jimin said as tears slowly traveled down his reddened cheeks.

You took a deep breath swallowing the words he had spilled as a sweet hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. The tension that had been sown into your aching muscles relaxing almost into nothingness, but before you could utter a word another contraction pushed through the surface once again throwing you into fits of rage.

“JIIIMIIIIN!!!!” you yelled painfully as he bravely took both your hand in his.

“Breathe (y/n). Close your eyes and imagine little hands and feet, and the smell of baby shampoo, the pain is worth it …. The pain will be less and less” Jimin tried to soothingly whisper in your ear.

“BULLSHIIT!!! This pain will not goo AHHHWAY!” you said almost ripping his hands off as you grasped onto them tighter, the pain increased to a level it hadn’t before knocking your breath out of the continuous rhythm it had settled into before making you slightly dizzy and nauseated.

Doctor Kim came in with a smile on his face, “Well won’t you look at that monitor, we are definitely close, and the anesthesiologist is barely on his way! Let me check you once again because your contractions have definitely increased in duration… If you excuse me”

Jimin nodded looking at the doctor wide-eyed as he assessed you once again as the cold sensation of the gloved made you wiggle with the alien sensation.

“Well...we can’t wait much longer you are at a 9 now. That was quick…” Doctor Kim said talking more to himself than anyone else in the room.

The door opened as Jin walked in looking at the floor lost in thought, “I swear they have way too much paperwork….. Like how many times did I have to print your name?? Don’t they have those sticker name labels or something??” he complained as he plopped himself on the nearby couch finally looking up to inspect his surroundings. Jin smiled at the doctor and then looked at Jimin with relief clearly radiating off him.

“You made it!!” Jin screamed enthusiastically. I frowned his way as I put two and two together, but right before I could question him….

“AHH!!!! MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!! THIS HAS GOT TO STOP HURTING SO MUCH!! WHERE IS THE FREAKING EPIDURAL COMING BRIGHT AND SHINY DOCTOR!!!??? WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!!!” you screamed not really paying attention to anything you were saying, “NEVERMIND NEVERMIND DONT DONT STOP SMILING!!! IT IS PRETTY!!!! YOU ARE PRETTY! FUCK JIN YOU CALLED JIMIN AFTER WE FUCKING KISSED!!!”

“You kissed??” Jimin asked completely shocked sending a death glare towards Jin.

“I smell drama” Doctor Kim said winking at both their ways.

“She was confused Jimin… she could only think of the worst possible scenario at that point, and I mean it wasn’t even that long of a kiss cause her water broke….and wait doctor shouldn’t you be doing something?? You wink too much” Jin said defending himself as your screams only got louder.

“You do wink too much...Look I don’t care about the kiss. All I know is that I am glad you were there when I wasn’t. Jin you deserve…” Jimin said to Jin almost completely blurring your loud pants only to be cut off when you screamed once again.

“JIMIN MAKE IT AHHH!” you said as the pain started to subside once again.

“Okay, well the epidural won’t do much at this point. We are going to go ahead and prep her for delivery. Are you ready to start pushing??” Dr. Kim asked as he started to make his way out the door.

“I don’t…” you stuttered.

“PERFECT! What about you Daddy??” Dr. Kim said genuinely smiling at Jimin for once.

Jimin looked your way as his face brightened as fresh tears traveled down his cheeks, “More than ever”

Jin grimaced as he stood up from the couch, “This is my queue to walk out of here before my face hits the floor. I fainted when they showed us the birthing video in class, I can only imagine what a live one will do… I will go wait at the waiting room with Nat and Yoongi”

You turned towards Jimin questioningly, “Wait… why is Yoongi here?? Is Steph okay??”

Jimin placed a finger on your lips, “Shhhh…. I will explain later. Steph is no longer my problem. This is a moment for you and me only. Everyone else is a speck of dirt in this infinity galaxy that is us, now are you ready?”

“More than ever” you replied as Jimin kissed your forehead. For a second a smile adorned your face...For a second until another contraction made its way.

2 pairs of eyes, 40 baby toes, 2 pairs of chubby little feet, a full set of hair, one head a little on the bald side with very light thin hair, and 2 cries that sent your world into a spiral of happiness.

Roilan was born at 20:17 with a full cry that rattled throughout the hallway, a future opera singer was what Dr. Kim said as soon as he burst into baby cries.

Leilani was born at 20:25 a lot more stubborn to let the world know she had made an appearance. It took a bit of coaxing to get her to cry, but as soon as Doctor Kim assured her health seemed to be at 100% she was back asleep almost automatically.

There was something incredibly magical of watching Jimin cradle both babies as he sang soft sweet lullabies as their little hands wrapped around his fingers.

“They are beautiful” Jimin whispered to himself as tears threaten to spill down my face.

“To be honest they look like little old people, a little swollen and wrinkly but nonetheless beautiful” a deep voice called out from the door, “It happens with all newborns, so don’t worry in about a few hours the swelling goes down and they look a hella lot cuter”

“Yoongi??” you asked out loud confused as he entered the door with a very excited Nataly in his arms. As soon as he placed her down on the floor she came running towards you with an excited and curious glint in her eyes.

“Aunty (Y/N), did you already have your parasites??” she asked clapping her hands in delight.

You raised your eyebrows confused, “What Natty??”

“Yeah, my dad was talking about how babies eat out of the mommies like parasites” she explained nodding her head in full understanding.

“Well … umm... That is strangely correct, but it doesn’t sound too nice to call them parasites, but we can call them Leilani and Roiland.” you replied as you patted the unruly golden hair on her head.

“Leili and Roy!!” she scram now running towards Jimin who quickly smiled her way as she kissed both heads and started talking to babies as if they could understand her perfectly, both pairs of eyes trying to focus on her for now blurry figure as they tried to suck on their hands.

You turned to look at a smiling Yoongi, “Parasites??” you questioned him with an eyebrow raised.

“You tell me how I was supposed to explain it to a little girl. She asked why every 4 words… Anyway, congratulations love!” he said engulfing you in a hug which you returned automatically.

You looked behind him expecting to see Stephany walking in at any second. Yoongi’s eyes traveled to your line of sight, “No, she is not here, and she won’t be around for a while”

“But you and Nataly?” you asked concern written along the creases in your forehead.

Yoongi just shook his head, “Steph thought it would be best to let us go, at least until she is better, but at this point… I am not sure if she is coming back”

You nodded now understand as to why Jimin had run away from your side earlier today. You turned to look at Jimin and Natalie as they simultaneously sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ to the once again sleeping twins.

“I am sorry Yoongi I wish…” you replied only to be cut off by his hand interlacing with yours.

“No. There is nothing any of us could’ve done to help her. We tried. We all did. Jimin sacrificed so much and at the end of the day, she always fell back to old habits. I had a lot of people tell me she had to hit rock bottom to actually try and help herself out of this, and maybe she finally did. All I need is that little girl by my side to keep me going. She deserves a whole lot more than I have been able to give her in her short life, and I am going to make sure I fulfill my duty as her father and best friend. My focus will be on her. She needs me, and if Stephanie ever decides to come back... Well, that would be nice, but I am done waiting” Yoongi said confidently, “Now I am sorry to interrupt your moment, but Nataly and I just came by to say goodnight. It is late and time for her bedtime. Jin wanted us to wait a little longer, but Nataly wanted to see the babies before she fell asleep.”

Nataly kissed Jimin and the twins goodnight and then jumped on the bed to kiss your forehead and engulf you in a hug with her tiny little arms, “Love you, Auntie”

“Love you too princess. Be good with your Dad” you replied as you watched her jump into Yoongi’s arms as a gummy smile appeared on his face.

She smiled back at you, “Always”

Jin came in an hour later with 2 giant bears. One pink with a giant tutu, and one blue with a baseball bat. He tiptoed into the room afraid to wake up the twins as they both slept on their baby hospital beds.

“You know Jin you can just walk normally in here,” you said to encourage him to walk quickly to your bedside. Jimin had fallen asleep in the recliner as if he had been the one who had just given birth and pushed out two little humans through his privates. Soft snores spilled from Jimin’s plump lips as Jin peeked in to see the twins.

“They are so cute and tiny” Jin squeaked out in a quiet yet excited tone.

“Yep yep. I make cute babies..what can I say” you replied winking his way.

Jin placed the bears on the side table and then sat on the edge of your bed, “Winking might just be contagious, you are not allowed to hang out with that doctor anymore (y/n). I am glad everything went okay.” his eyes traveled to a sleeping Jimin, “and I am glad you are happy”

You nodded as you reached over to take his hand, “I am… and I am sorry.”

“Wait, what are you sorry for??” Jin asked quietly tilting his head to the side making his manly features look like those of a lost puppy.

You sighed scared to speak the words out loud, as if by not saying them everyone can go about like it had never happened, “The kiss” you stuttered, “I am sorry it took me so long to realize how you felt, and I am really sorry…”

“You don’t have to say it” Jin cut you off looking towards Jimin, “I know…”

“But you don’t. If things between Jimin and I weren’t so complicated. If I had the strength to just let go….it would be you” you said as silent tears traveled down your cheek.

Jin scooted his way closer to you and grasped your face with his hands delicately as if you were made out of this world’s finest crystals, “(Y/N), that is the thing… I am not what you want. You and I are best friends no matter what, through thick and thin. Maybe I should’ve told you how I truly felt, but I knew that with what was going on between you and Jimin it would be taking advantage of the situation and I didn’t want that. I wanted you. I want you.”

You shook your head, “Jin you deserve so much more than me. You need to be someone's number one, just like you told me so many times. You are gold Jin”

“You are gold” Jin replied instantly, “I think I need to go ahead and go home for the night. I will go by your apartment and make sure the doors are locked”

“Thank you Jin,” you said unsure of what you should really say.

Jin nodded and turned to face the door walking almost reluctantly out the door.

“Wait, Jin!” you yelled unconsciously.

Jin turned to face you puzzled at your sudden outburst.

You slowly sat up from the bed and wiggled up on your feet slowly marching up to him, not quite sure about what you were doing at this point.

As you stood right in front of him you tippy-toed and laced your arms around his neck and rested your head on his chest, “I love you Jin. I love you so so so much, and I wish I could be in love with you too, but I am in love with Jimin and it would be highly unfair to you.” You separated yourself from his chest and peered up into his eyes, “Best Friends??”

Jin leaned in and placed a soft kiss in your forehead, “Best Friends until a Zombie Apocalypse falls upon us and I get bitten, then I can make no promises I will want to eat your brains… of course if it makes you feel any better I would choose your brains over any others”

“You are so weird” you chuckled as you let him go.

The soft cries of Leilani shook you both back to reality, “I am thinking she might be hungry, she has only woken up to eat so far”

“Time to go then,” Jin said waving a small bye as he stepped away.

As soon as Jin was out of sight you heard some movement from the corner of the room “She is more than likely hungry” Jimin’s voice surprised you as you scooped her tiny body up in your arms.

“I think so too. She is a sleepy head” you sat on the bed and latched her onto your breast which she quickly took as her little hand went into a tight fist.

Jimin walked towards Roilan who was still quietly sleeping, “I still can’t seem to believe they are already here”

“Yeah me either,” you said smiling.

“(Y/N), I heard what happened with Jin, and I am sorry for everything I put you through, but is it true?? Are you still in love with me”

You nodded right away, “I have no doubt I am, but to be honest I am not sure what I want to do right now. I need to focus on the babies and every time I let you in we fall back into the same routine. We can give this another go, but we would have to start from the beginning once again you just have to give me some time to adjust to everything.”

“You can have all the time you want” Jimin replied as a bright smile appeared on his face, “This is like the best day ever”

“Calm down there. When I mean from the beginning I mean literally dates and all” you replied, “Nothing too serious or dramatic until I feel comfortable”

Jimin nodded, “I will take anything I can get, but will it be too much to ask for a kiss??”

A deep voice broke through the room catching you and Jimin by surprise, “Did you not hear the lady?? She said to CHILL! Anyway congratulations on your bundles of joy, how are you feeling??” a civilian dressed Doctor Kim Taehyung asked as he approached you with a small gift bag, “This is for your minions and this is for you” he replied handing you 4 large sunflowers that shined as bright as him. A small card rested upon the petals which you quickly opened curiously. A blue inked phone number was scribbled across with a smiley face.

“That is my personal number in case you ever need anything… and now that you are dating… casually...” Taehyung replied winking playfully your way.

You chuckled at his joking demeanor while Jimin’s sudden change of mood was written all over his frowning face.

“Anyway I have to go sleep, the bed is calling to me. Goodnight!” Doctor Kim said walking away without giving Jimin another glance.

“Goodnight Doctor Kim” you replied earning you a cheeky smile from the clearly amused doctor.

“You can call me Tae,” he said as he skipped his way out the door.

“I don’t like him,” Jimin said sitting next to you in the bed.

You rolled your eyes at his pout and then leaned in quickly to kiss him catching by surprise.

“But I like you...scratch that I love you. I am so in love with you” Jimin rambled on and on until you once again leaned in to capture his plump pink lips. You knew you had told Jimin you wanted to take things slow and at your own pace, but you had a feeling that wouldn’t last too long with all these boundaries you were trying to set between the both of you. You were so head over heels in love with him, and you could finally confidently say he felt the same. At that very moment, everything felt perfect, and then not only one cry but two cries erupted loudly through the room forcing both of you to separate from the passion filled kiss.

“Welcome to parenthood” Jimin whispered happily.

“That smile won’t be there for long, especially at 3 in the morning Jimin” you replied as you traded babies now latching Roilan on, “Leilani requires a burping session and then diaper change”

“Yes Ma’am” he replied in an over exaggerated deep voice as he saluted.

Hey loves. Sorry for taking so long writing this chapter. I wanted it to feel realistic and not too overwhelming since the whole story was quite an emotional bomb. There is an epilogue coming out which will have a few surprises and let you peek in into Jimin’s and (Y/N)’s life 2 years down the road. Some stuff will not be pink and fluffy, and there is like I said a little twist in the story which to be honest I am still debating myself about. You can choose to stop here or go ahead and wait for the epilogue, it is up to you loves. It will be a short epilogue drabble so it may be up by next weekend.

Thank you all for sticking through this!! I know we all divided into Teams for the boys and we all cried and debated over y/n life together. I hope you enjoyed this story and I am hoping you will enjoy my future ones. I have so many things going out of hiatus and will continue to be written.

My upcoming works(for those curious souls):

Goodnight Moon (BadGirlGoodBoyAU Jungkook OneShot)

Countdown To Us Chpt 2 (SoulmateAU) TaexReader , YoongiXReader

Aphrodesia Chpt 1 (Jungkook StripperAU)

Untitled (Jin BestFriendAU One Shot)

641 notes · View notes

cloudynames · 5 years

Text

Make Me Melt

hi everyone!! i dont have much to say other than i hope you enjoy this small fluff ;; it was inspired from that grade school visit with the nct members and,,, wooWEE jungwoo please work with babies challenge its for science i promise!! <3

Word Count: 2,400

Rating: E

Warnings: None

lets get it

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A thick silence encompasses the room as you stared at the black haired boy, flipping through papers dramatically while scribbling notes on the side. Your throat dries up when you see a red dash erase a sentence and you feel the desperation of wanting to leave the dimly lit room. Shouldn’t interviewers finalize notes at the end when you’re not there? After all, it is common practice.

With a shaky voice, “Ah, Mr. Kim, should I go?” Implying about the red thick line, tapping your fingers upon the table like a drum roll.

“It’s Doyoung. And you can stay.”

Halfway already out of you seat, you slump yourself against the chair once more, irritated. This interview is already past the end time and although you don’t have much to do, Doyoung has this intimidating presence surrounding him. He takes his job seriously and it’s inspiring but as a possible future employee, it scared the hell out of you.

Doyoung must’ve had a sixth sense (or he noticed you yawning louder than before) because he soon set down his pen and grabbed a black folder from below his seat. He slides you the folder and pen, quickly drilling through everything you need to sign for. With a spinning, discombobulated head, you marked everything you needed to, thankful to leave the tiny, claustrophobic room.

Who knew being interviewed at a daycare would be the most stressful moment of your life?

A whirlwind of emotions overtook you the next week, an hour before work started. Doyoung had you sit down with Jungwoo, the other owner of the small daycare. He left quickly, wanting to make some coffee for all three of you but leaving you with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo stared mindlessly, a smile adorned on his face. He was decorated in a pale baby pink long sleeve, a dark contrast from Doyoung’s black shirt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t present at the interview last week. I had some private matters that needed to be taken care of.” He suddenly confesses, his tone soft, almost like he feared he would break you if he spoke even a decibel higher.

“It’s no problem.” You reply, the once awkward atmosphere melting with the small talk.

“Really? I’m surprised Doyoung didn’t tear you to bits. He tends to do that when I’m not around.” He chuckles lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah. He nearly did.’

You want to declare but you hold yourself back, wanting to make a good impression on your new employers. Instead, you give him a wide grin and continue, “No, he wasn’t that bad.”

Just as the two of you were starting to talk about where the other studied for university, Doyoung arrives carrying three hot cups of coffee which you hurriedly take two from his red hands.

“No need to rush to help Doyoung, he’s icy enough that he doesn’t feel anything.” Jungwoo teases and Doyoung clicks his tongue in annoyance. The two of them begin to tease each other merciless but with no ill intent at all.

Staring at the boys with a gaping mouth, you wonder how the two of them work so well together. Doyoung is definitely more stubborn and strict while Jungwoo seemed so carefree and playful. These two were the exact polar opposites yet they portrayed an attitude of getting along so well.

“Anyway, as we were going to continue, because you’re a newbie we won’t be piling as much work on you until you get the flow of things.”

You nod and your ears perk up at the ring of the bell above the door where a mother and her daughter come tumbling in. Mimicking Jungwoo and Doyoung’s actions, you bow respectfully and beam at pair.

“Mrs. Lee! So good to see you. How’s your husband by the way?” Jungwoo fires away into conversation while Doyoung kneels down and points at you to the young girl. She whispers something in Doyoung’s ear and soon she comes up and introduces herself.

“Hi, I’m Shin-Ae!” She holds out her hand and you giggle, shaking it.

“Hi, Shin-Ae. I’m (y/n)! You don’t have to use formalities with me.”

She giggles in response and reveals, “You’re really pretty, (y/n)!”

Flustered and nervously laughing, you shake your head no wildly. How embarrassing! Especially on the first day of work.

“She’s not wrong.” Jungwoo replies, smirking at how your face heats up even more.

Before you have a chance to question him, he dashes into the backroom to make a snack for Shin-Ae and the other children who would be arriving shortly. Biting your tongue, you roll your eyes. So Jungwoo is a flirt and he’s your employer? This first day would be just fantastic.

But thank god Jungwoo made all those snacks because you underestimated just how many children would show up at the daycare. With twelve energetic kids, each caretaker had to watch over four kids. Doyoung laid out this plan before the day had started but nobody had listened. Most of the children were fascinated with you, the newest addition to their familiar daycare.

“What’s your favorite color?” A tall boy asks, staying close to you while coloring in a book.

“I like blue a lot.” You reply sweetly, braiding the hair of the girl who was currently seated in your lap.

“What about your favorite animal?” Another boy questions, playing with dinosaur figures.

“Puppies are cutest!”

A few boys groan, expecting a cooler answer more suited to their tastes while the others squeal over the mention of a puppy.

Disrupted from the sudden noise, Jungwoo glances over to you and realizes just how many kids were surrounding you. He glimpses at his tiny group, only containing two others excluding himself while Doyoung was focusing all his attention on one of the quieter kids. Jungwoo excuses himself for a second but not forgetting to promise that he’ll be back.

He gently taps you on the shoulder and you twirl around, smiling brightly from hearing an amusing joke from one of the children.

“Do you need me to take a few?”

You shake your head and turn back around, returning to the comfortable debate between knights or soldiers.

Confused, Jungwoo walks back over to his table but pays more attention to your group than before. You were astonishing, attending to each kid no matter how quiet or loud they were being. Changing your voice to firm to dim in a split second, you addressed every problem presented to you. Whether a cut or a sour mood, you handled everything with grace and ease.

A natural with children.

And Jungwoo could swear he felt his heart do flips while watching you settle everyone down for nap time.

Yeah, he might’ve spent an inappropriate amount of time watching.

“(Y/N), huh?” Doyoung’s voice knocks Jungwoo out of his lovestruck state and Jungwoo almost drops his water bottle.

“W-What do you mean?”

“They’re amazing.”

A sigh escapes Jungwoo, longingly, “Yeah. They are.”

Doyoung stirs his coffee, the second one of the day. “They’re a natural, I won’t deny it. I get why you’re staring.”

Jungwoo blushes, a sweat breaking out on his skin. “I’m just a-assessing them!” He stutters, his tone accusing.

“Sure, Jungwoo. Anyone can tell when you’re head over heels dude.” With that, Doyoung exits and goes to take his shift and watch the children.

Jungwoo is totally smitten for you.

—————------------

Doyoung immediately hired you after that day without consulting Jungwoo. Jungwoo whined, saying that he is also apart of the hiring process but he would’ve said nothing different from what Doyoung concluded. The children (and Jungwoo) loved you immensely. It would break their hearts not to see you the next day.

You were an officially established daycare worker and every day made you enjoy your job even more. Rarely did it ever feel like a job which you were thankful for. You’re reminded it’s a job whenever you saw Jungwoo, however.

Romance in the workplace was strictly prohibited in companies but in a daycare? There are no such rules for that. Lingering glances and fleeting touches confirmed Jungwoo’s attraction to you. You weren’t bothered by it at all however. Jungwoo was sweet, consistently complimenting your appearance and helping you clean up after the day. Not to mention, he was very attractive. His hazelnut brown eyes and smooth skin had you feeling overheated at times like a popsicle on a summer day. He made you melt and you accepted every advance with open arms, hoping he’d stir up more mischief.

The troublemaker of the day wasn’t Jungwoo one autumn day but actually a young boy named Minhyuk. As curious as a cat, he would question everything in the great, big world but whine if he didn’t receive enough attention. His questions ranged from, “Why is the sky blue?” to even as daring as, “Who do you like more (y/n)? Mr. Jungwoo or Mr. Doyoung?”

Pausing and letting out a choked sound, you stop buttering the bread you were just holding to face the young boy when two just as shocked faces were staring as well. With Jungwoo and Doyoung involved now, there was no way to escape this situation. Minhyuk wasn’t quiet either and soon the other children were bouncing around you, asking who you liked better. Every time you would brush it off, laughing or asking the same question to the child. Yet Doyoung was getting annoyed quickly and as nap time was nearing soon, the children were more energetic than before.

“(Y/N)!” Doyoung harshly whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on a few of the kids who were playing with the kitchen set. “Please just answer their question! I’m sick of hearing the same question over and over.”

You chuckle anxiously and take a peek at Jungwoo who was reading a story, all while smiling and resembling a prince too much. If Jungwoo notices your true feelings, where would things go from there? You consider your options, ultimately deciding to bite the bullet.

“Everyone, come here!” You announce and soon the children come waddling over, similar to ducklings.

“Now, I know everyone has been asking me so politely about who I like better and I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I think I like Jungwoo over Doyoung because he’s much sweeter. He’s also very charming.” You say with a sing-song voice.

Jungwoo gapes at you from the corner he was situated in and could barely help both Doyoung and you settle the kids down for naptime. His heart was beating erratically, so confused but curious about why you picked him.

As soon as all the children were snoring quietly, Jungwoo rushed to the break room and told Doyoung he would take his break first. He almost bumped into you, blushing furiously from the hazardous circumstance. Jungwoo gazed down at your disheveled appearance and how your hands were shaking while carrying a mug full of coffee.

“Here, let me take it,” Jungwoo starts, attempting to grab the cup away from you but failing miserably as you jump back nearly five feet. He opens his mouth, startled from your actions. There were so many things he wanted to say to you but as his mouth remained open, nothing came out.

You laugh, your tone anxious and with a more steady hand, you place the mug on a table besides you. Turning to Jungwoo and taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

With a raised eyebrow from Jungwoo, “What for?”

“I know I probably made you uncomfortable earlier with me choosing you over Doyoung and I swear I didn’t mean anything more from it! I needed to satisfy the children or they would’ve never let the subject drop.” You lie through your teeth and stare at the floor, heel digging into the carpet as a way to comfort yourself. Your heart definitely desired more, unfortunately. It didn’t feel right, especially with a coworker and boss of yours. This workplace romance has gotten out of hand and had you bargaining for more. All you wanted was to keep your emotions hidden and continue working with Jungwoo because that truly made you satisfied. Seeing Jungwoo everyday genuinely enjoying his job caused you greater contentment than anything ever before. But would your heart truly be fine if you pushed away this opportunity?

“Oh,” Jungwoo visibly bites his tongue before taking a deep inhale, “I’m sorry then. I guess I misunderstood the situation.”

He bids you a small goodbye and is already halfway out the door when you grab his hand, pulling him back into the break room. Swallowing your pride, “No, Jungwoo. You didn’t misread the situation at all. You were completely right, actually.”

Jungwoo’s face breaks out into a grin and he engulfs you into a hug, burying his head into your shoulder. Awkwardly placing your hands around him, you return the gesture with gratitude. Your body and mind are in complete shock but your heart immediately fills with delightment. You had never been so thankful for a rowdy boy named Minhyuk.

Jungwoo breaks away first and his face is simply radiating, his eyes twinkling. You resist the urge to plant a kiss on his lips in that moment and you’re thankful you did because Doyoung barges into the room not a second later.

“Hey! It’s been over twenty minutes and I want my break—“ Doyoung starts to complain but shuts up upon gazing at your flushed face and Jungwoo’s ecstatic expression.

“Ah, never mind. Just one of you come out within the next five minutes.” Doyoung mutters, closing the door and resuming to monitor the children.

“I’ll go first.” You state, snatching your cup of coffee from the table once more.

Jungwoo’s expression falters and he waves a small goodbye to you. He glances away momentarily, only for a soft kiss to be placed upon his pink cheek. Letting out a small gasp, he whirls around to find you, only to discover that you were long gone and Doyoung was entering the room once again, grumbling about how unfair the breaks were today.

Jungwoo reaches up and touches the place where you kissed him, smiling softly.

He was sure to repay the deed later.

(Later meant in the next fifteen minutes and a stolen kiss from your lips)

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

“Ew! I saw (Y/N) and Mr. Jungwoo hold hands under the desk!” “Minhyuk! Stop being so nosy!”

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct headcanon #nct jungwoo #nct 127 jungwoo #nct 127 #nct u #nct kim jungwoo #kim doyoung #nct 2019 #writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop headcanons #jungwoo

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frumfrumfroo · 6 years

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how do you think so many people missed the reylo in tfa? do you think they went too subtle with the ship or was it audience bias about the other theories like rey/sky? i'm asking cause i was one of those unaware people, tlj reylo hit me like a truck and now i'm shipping it in a weird anxious way, like i'm seriously worried about canon for the first time in any of my fandoms because antis will be more smug and horrible to everyone if it isn't endgame.

I think it’s mainly that most people just take movies at face value and aren’t going to notice much foreshadowing until after the thing being foreshadowed actually happens. Which is the normal way to watch movies! Casual audiences don’t consciously consider stuff like narrative structure and what each plot development would be ‘saying’ in the wider context of the story. The majority of fans who were poring over the film weren’t reading it as a piece of storytelling setting up a SW-appropriate overall message and an emotional arc, they were reading it in light of all their baggage with the GFFA universe and trying to ‘outsmart’ the film. But these are simple epic stories, not intricately plotted world-building-heavy political thrillers. The big ‘twist’ in ESB is character-driven, it challenges Luke more than anything else could have, and it sets up the ultimate themes (love and compassion will triumph over hate and violence, it’s never too late). Obsessing about details without looking at thematic coherence is how you end up with the exact bad takes so many people had such unwarranted confidence in. How much did the OT explain about the Force or Galactic politics? Practically nothing. It doesn’t matter. Fans combing through looking for bloodlines and Snoke origins and esoteric Force lore were focussing on something the films have never cared about.

How would being a Skywalker challenge Rey? It wouldn’t. It hands her what she thinks she wants on a platter with no struggle or character growth necessary. It’s narratively useless and leaves us with no stakes. The bad guy is… your cousin!!! isn’t dramatic. It doesn’t radically redefine her worldview or force her to re-evaluate her choices, values, and place in the universe. Vader being Anakin did all of those things for Luke. The point isn’t ‘secretly related’ as something we tick off on an obligatory checklist of clichés, in the OT that reveal kicked the protagonist off a cliff and changed everything. Shock value isn’t what makes it effective, it’s the implications. People who insist on these convoluted theories are failing to think about it as A Story and to ask these questions about ‘why?’. It’s character-driven, it has very limited screen time, it has to be accessible to children- they don’t waste time building relationships which don’t matter. Rey’s most significant, most challenging relationship is with Ben. They are the thematic centre of the trilogy.

When I say it’s obvious, I mean it’s obvious in an out-of-universe, English major kind of way. The way the film is structured, the way Rey and Ben are contrasted, the use of classic imagery, the very standard way he is cast as a sympathetic, romantic figure who must be saved in order to not… ruin the OT, basically. The careful way their interactions are handled, especially that being in her presence always makes him more vulnerable and reveals more of his humanity. They married Rey’s arc to his and that can’t be backed off. If it wasn’t going to be romantic, they would have had history. Either they’d have been siblings or they would have been childhood friends (now that would be a rehash). The most powerful storytelling connection for unrelated strangers on opposite sides of a conflict is a romance, particularly when platonic love has already failed both. Coupling that with Rey’s driving desire being to give and receive the unconditional love she was denied as a child and both of them having the defining lack in their lives be loneliness… I mean, guess where this is going. Two sad, lonely, attractive young people with isolating special powers who don’t know their place in the world but do profoundly understand each other when no one else does in an epic fantasy space opera are not going to be just buds.

I understand being worried, because even though I am 100% confident that a redemption and happy Reylo ending is where the story demands to go and that it has been deliberately set up, writers can and do make horrible nonsensical decisions. They could fuck it up. It seems vanishingly unlikely that would be allowed to happen because if they were cowards they wouldn’t have gone there in the first place, but I understand the fear. The Internet would be unbearable and the smug assholes would declare themselves right all along.

But, as long as they aren’t hacks and the writing is intentional (and… it has to be. I mean, I didn’t think it was that debatable even after TFA, but now it’s really not debatable) then there is every reason to be optimistic they will follow through. If they have any respect for the message of the franchise at all, any integrity, they gotta.

ETA: And I should probably say, the reason they write things like this, with symbolic foreshadowing etc. is because it makes the eventual resolution feel inevitable and more deeply satisfying. You picked up subconsciously that track was being laid for this before it happened, so when it does it feels ~right~. And with Reylo in particular, it needed to be subtext first because it’s a) part one of a trilogy and b) a high concept enemies to lovers ship for which we have to establish the stakes/obstacles/thematic weight before making the attraction explicit. It’s a grand love story about healing, not a ‘bad boys are sexy’ Harlequin novel; we don’t want the impression it’s just sexual or shallow.

Also, I mean, compare them in TFA to Act 1 of Beauty and the Beast. If not for the prologue telling us the Beast needs to find love, it’s pretty much exactly as explicit with the fact that there will be a romance between those two. That is, you could absolutely fail to see it coming if you take everything at face value.

#reylo #redemption #rey #writing #go big or go home

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i-may-have-a-point · 7 years

Text

Review of 14x04 “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head”

Sorry for the delay in posting! Life. Amelia - I mentioned this last week, but I want to say again how surprised I am that Amelia’s brain tumor story moved so quickly. I guess her real story this year will be figuring out who she is without this tumor impacting her actions and decisions. Marlana Hope is a welcome addition to the writing team after seeing how she wrote this particular story in this episode. Dr. Koracick is arrogant but likable, Amelia’s reactions are realistic, and humor is interjected well for a story about such a tough topic. April being Amelia’s POA and explaining, “What? Was I supposed to say no?” added levity to a scene where Amelia said her good-byes to her loved ones. “In this moment, I love you people tremendously.” What a perfect line. The scene transitions to Amelia and her team standing in the superhero pose, and Dr. Koracick speaks for all of us when he whispers, “I love this,” over the stunning instrumental music. “With surgery, you worry that you won’t wake up. With brain surgery, you worry that you will wake up, but you won’t be there when you do.” That is a beautiful way to explain Amelia’s fear. Who is she without this tumor? Well, we are about to find out as we watch Dr. Koracick cut her tumor out while singing along to the Beach Boys. The contrast of the music with the seriousness of the scene could not have been better. Whoever chose the music for this episode should choose the music for the rest of the season. After surgery, Amelia being aware of what was happening but not being able to communicate was terrifying to watch but a nice nod to Derek’s death. I also thought Deluca was a nice addition to this story. He never quite found his place in seasons past, but so far, I like him in neuro with Amelia. The scene where he forced her to sit in the chair because she made him promise to do so was brilliant. Amelia screaming in her head while collapsed against his chest, weeping, was one of my favorite scenes of the night.

I think Caterina has done an amazing job with this story, but I have to mention my issues with the story as well. Using a brain tumor to rewrite Amelia’s personality is frustrating to me. I didn’t think her personality was THAT bad, and it’s unrealistic. My dad passed away from cancer a little over a month ago. It spread to his brain, and he had his brain tumor removed in April. His tumor may have been different from the one Amelia has, but brain tumors don’t just make people act a little odd. They are debilitating. They affect memory, speech, vision, and motor skills. They don’t just cause you to make poor life choices.. I know I have to look past reality to accept this story, and that’s fine because it’s a TV show, but a part of me wishes they hadn’t depicted brain tumors so inaccurately.

Bailey/Webber/Interns - Some of these scenes were funny, but I know we are all side-eyeing these new interns wondering how they are going to shake up Grey-Sloan Memorial. Part of me doesn’t want to know.

Megan/Nathan/Meredith - I have been so impressed with how this story has been written. I was not feeling Griggs last season, mainly because it was written so poorly. This season has been just the opposite. This story has been written so well that I want Nathan with both Megan and Meredith. Not in a sister wives type way. It’s just that they are all handling an unimaginable situation with maturity and class, and I want a happy ending for all of them. Megan is incredibly likable. She is understanding of Nathan moving on, she adopted an orphaned child and raised him in a war zone, and she has been through hell and back. She deserves happiness. Meredith has been understanding of Nathan’s history with Megan, she helped him bring Farouk to Megan, and she also has been through hell and back. She deserves happiness. I am genuinely interested to see how this story plays out. I still assume Meredith will get the man in the end because she is Meredith, but if they keep writing this story this well, I will stay invested for as long as they want. (Side note: I like the parallel between Meredith telling Megan that she kidnapped her own daughter and then Meredith helping Nathan, in a way, kidnap Farouk.)

Catherine/Webber/Jackson/Koracick - I laughed out loud when Koracick said he wanted to make sure Jackson wasn’t his and Jackson said, “Nope,” and walked away. I’m not entirely sure what the point of adding in the Koracick/Catherine connection was, but it was a funny little moment.

Jo/Alex - Either Jo is going to decide to put her name on the article despite her husband possibly finding her, or I think he will be at the Harper Avery awards. He feels like a shadow closing in on Jolex. We are all just waiting for him to step out of the darkness. But what a refreshing switch it is to see Alex be her rock as opposed to last season when she feared Paul alone. This is a more realistic portrayal of their relationship and who Alex is.

April/Arizona/Alex/Mer/Maggie scene - I like scenes like this. I always have. I think this particular scene is another way the writers are taking jabs at the terrible stories of last season. Alex says, “I just wish I had a tumor to blame my stupid crap on,” and they proceed to yell out stories from last season that we could have done without. As if wishing all of them could be explained away by tumors. “Deluca, I’m sorry I hit you. Tumor.” “Riggs. Tumor.” “Minnick!” It was a subtle jab at the ridiculous writing of season 13. Thanks Marlana.

Jackson/April/Maggie - After watching this week’s episode, I stand by what I said last week. Jackson and April are both going to have individual journeys (for the most part) this season, but they will find their way back to each other. I expect some of you to call me delusional or say I am wrong, but I only write what I see. The first time we see Jackson and Maggie interact, she comments on his suit only to quickly realize he was at a funeral. Again, I saw no flirting there. And after she awkwardly walked away, Jackson very noticeably adjusted Alex’s collar. I’m not sure how the writers/directors/show could send a more intentional message to the audience than that. Jackson and Alex don’t touch. That two second gesture was put in there in response to Maggie fixing Jackson’s collar. Because that is what colleagues/friends do. It doesn’t mean that Jackson wants to drag Alex to an on-call room, and it didn’t mean that for Maggie either. Yes, they are intentionally toying with the audience by throwing stuff like that in there, but so many people are taking the bait and crazy tweeting about it, so why wouldn’t they? That moment leads into Jackson’s talk with Meredith about the Harper Avery award, further supporting my thoughts from last week that Jackson will spend a good deal of the season figuring out what it means for him to be an Avery. He is visibly annoyed that he cannot be considered for an award since he is a great surgeon and deserves recognition.

It was nice to see more of Webbery’s home. How many of us have forgiven Catherine Avery all her sins after the way she seemed annoyed at Maggie’s very presence at their dinner? We feel that on a spiritual level, Catherine. When Jackson walked in, he said, “Oh. Hey,” the way I greet acquaintances. Again, nothing. He looked a little surprised to see her maybe, but that’s about it. And the couple of times he smiled at her in the episode did not scream romantic feeling to me. She is his step-sister and friend. He should smile at her. It would be weird if he didn’t. He smiled at Meredith the exact same way before stealing her chips. Awkward, boring scenes aside, I think the main point of these scenes was for the audience to know how much money Jackson inherited. The discussion centered around the money and what he should do with it. I suspect we will see something come of Jackson inheriting this money. This was brought up for a reason.

The scene that I think most people were so angered by was when Jackson said, “I appreciate you,” to Maggie. Guys. Come on. If that was supposed to be a “moment” it would be the most lackluster romantic scene in the history of Grey’s I appreciate you? I appreciate the guy with one tooth who held the door open for me this morning. I appreciate when my waitress refills my drink. I appreciate when someone lets me merge on the interstate. However, I have absolutely no romantic interest in any of these people. That was not a Grey’s line that starts a romance. Grey’s starts a romance by two people being drawn together in a bar, spending the night together, and then finding out he is her new boss. Or two people connecting over their mutual understanding of what it means to lose the love of your life. Or two people understanding that having demons in their past (drugs, ptsd) does mean you are unlovable. Or two people who were beaten and broken down and told they were nothing can rise out of their circumstances. Or best friends turning into soul mates who only need “me and you” to make it. Epic love stories on Grey’s don’t begin with “I appreciate you.”

Were they thinking about it? Yes. April planted the idea in their heads, and they had to at least consider what the other was thinking or feeling. But, once again, the writers called them family in this episode. Catherine called Maggie his sister. SISTER. Last week, Harper called April his wife. WIFE. The writers are feeding us crumbs, and that is damn annoying, but no matter how little we are getting, there is a big difference between being called the sister and the wife when it comes to Grey’s writing.

Seeing April in the chapel just feels right. And I love that Marlana covered all aspects of who April is - religious, a fiercely loving mother, funny, and someone who feels things deeply. April is such a complex, well-developed character. Hearing April pray “Please don’t make me have to unplug her,” was both funny and true to her character. She wants Amelia to survive, but she has the strength to do what she needs to if it comes down to it. We also saw that April is continuing to evaluate her life, what she wants, what makes her happy, and where she goes from here, just like last week. Arizona seemed to be talking April into dating or having “new grown-up fun,” but I think most of that was just Arizona speaking for her own experience. April may or may not date this season as part of her journey, but if she does, I don’t think it will be anytime soon. She is focused on herself right now, as she should be. Like she said, she doesn’t want a new normal. Right now, she is surviving and that is the best she can do. There was a quick line in the scene where they were all drinking coffee outside that caught my attention and may be insignificant, but I think it is another example of the introspection and reflection April is doing. Meredith commented on how Riggs packed his bags and left to which April responds, “Riggs panicked. People panic.” n that line, I heard April relating to Riggs because she packed her bags and left once, too. That’s just one more part of her past that must be on her mind lately. And the chapel scene. How is it that Sarah Drew can have a ten second scene where she says two words, and it is breathtaking? When April is unsure, hurting, or troubled, she turns to God. But here, she went for a different reason. April is thankful. And not just that Amelia survived. Despite all the hurt and heartache in her life, April is thankful. And that just makes me love her even more.

I know many of you are angry and even jumping ship, but my feet are still planted firmly on the deck at this point. Japril has a long journey, which is frustrating, but it’s only because they can have a story like this and remain one of the most popular couples on the show. They have had two scenes together in six months, yet Grey’s posts are full of fans talking about Japril on every form of social media. They are strong enough to get a story like this, and I hesitantly say, the writers this season are strong enough to make this into an amazing story.

#grey's anatomy #japril #jolex #griggs #omelia #14x04

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fmdxkit-blog · 6 years

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setting: august 2006 to present day. warnings: death. word count: 3321 (// icb).

white with hints of grey and purple was all kit saw in his reflection. not too long ago—124 days, to be exact (but who was really counting?), he saw peaches, browns, flecks of pink, amber, blue, yellow. so many colors; he took them for granted, believing they were eternal. now, flooded in the lifeless hue of white (which wasn’t even a bonafide color, as his friend told him), kit felt dead. there was no life around him. the plants sat on the window sill were fake, devoid of mother nature’s gift (or curse).

he pulled a maroon beanie over his head, adding a splash of color to the canvas shade of his skin. the striking contrast brought the magentas out on his cheeks, but kit still looked as sickly as ever. bracing a knit cardigan around his slim, fragile body—his teacher gifted him (out of pity, no less), kit waddled towards the open door of his private hospital room. he asked a nurse to keep it open because he was so tired of hearing nothing but the voices tick away in his head, gnawing, scratching. kit would go mad if the silence persisted.

he stalked the corridor, rolling the IV pole next to him. it was the wilson to his—whatever tom hanks’ name was in that movie he was stranded on an island and his only friend for seven years was a bloodied volleyball. the IV pole was his only friend at the hospital.

kit strolled to where the other children with cancer usually gathered as the nurses tried to serenade them by singing kumbaya, as if that made the cancer nonexistent. he scoffed upon entering the room, immediately regretting the idea of having some sort of human interaction that day. before he could vanish back into the white surroundings, he caught a nurse’s periphery, and she waved him to join. he scanned the room. it was less dead than the rest of the ward. colourful, connected mats shielded the floor as toys laid scattered about: blocks, rag dolls, toy trucks, action figures. the whole shebang. the children were in a circle, surrounding a nurse with a ukulele.

begrudgingly, kit entered the playroom but lingered behind everyone else. he didn’t like drawing too much attention, nor was he in the mood to be singing songs, pretending he wasn’t confined out of his will because of an ailment 21st doctors still couldn’t solve. at eleven, he was already so much of a cynic. most eleven year olds were waiting for hogwarts letters (as if). he was losing his childhood day by day at an alarming rate.

“hey, i’ve never seen you around here.” soft but distinct. the voice crawled into kit’s personal bubble but he turned his head but saw no one. he then glanced down, blinking at a girl in a wheelchair.

“me too,” kit contested, eyeing the stranger. she wore the drab hospital gown and cliched beanie over her head too. it wouldn’t take a brain genius to realize she was a cancer patient just like him. “leukemia?”

“leukemia.” the girl nodded, lips twisted to a subtle pucker. “i’m elena, by the way. nice seeing someone else my age here.”

“kit.”

“kit? like kit-kat but without the kat? is your sister named kat?” elena giggled, tossing jokes as if they were funny. well, they were but kit wasn’t easily humored when his mood was at an all-time low.

“i don’t have a sister. i have a brother and his name is henry,” he answered diplomatically.

“you do know your parents named you after chocolate bars, right?”

kit scowled, annoyed by the wisecracks. “who asked you? why are you even talking to me? we’re not friends.”

elena fiddled with the hem of her blue hospital the gown. “how else do we make friends if we don’t talk, kit-kat?”

“first of all, i don’t want any friends.” kit resented anything or anyone who even vaguely reminded him he had cancer and was practically perched on death’s doormat. befriending a fellow patient was a definite no. “second of all, don’t call me that.” irritated, kit clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and vacated the room. he was done with the crappy music and interrogation—none of which he signed up for, nor appreciated.

“hey, wait!” elena called behind him.

kit tossed her a glare over his shoulders, grimacing as her frail arms spun the large wheels of the wheelchair. “why are you following me? don’t follow me.” when he reached his room, he planned to slam the door in her face but a tire prevented him from doing so.

“i’m sorry i called you kit-kat. i won’t call you that again. i’ve been here for months and i haven’t spoken to anyone my age. i’m tired of listening to toddlers rave about dora the explorer. and frankly, i can’t look at them because i feel so bad. babies shouldn’t have to go through this,” elena emphasized gravelly, voice on the verge of breaking after an emotional and sincere speech.

kit was taken back by the burst of honesty and also by how much he related to her words. they struck a chord, so he opened the door.

“no one deserves to go through this,” he corrected passionately yet grimly, his jaw clenched so tight as his adam’s apple bobbed.

elena mustered a small, relieved smile. “let’s start again.” courteously, she extended a hand. “i’m elena. nice meeting you!”

kit stared at the pink palm, contemplating on accepting the offer of friendship. he had plenty of friends outside of the hospital but no one on the inside. he was so exhausted of pitied looks, maybe having someone on the same boat wouldn’t be a constant remainder of his situation but a person to relate to. to talk to. to understand him and his fears.

he shook elena’s hand, watching her smile overwhelm her freckled face. kit was stunned by the radiance; he was almost persuaded to mirror the expression but slickly caught himself and dropped the handshake a fraction later.

“and i’m kit. nice meeting you too.”

—

propped up by a number of heavy duty pillows, kit stared lifelessly at the television screen. old reruns of sitcoms from before he was born played: a group of elderly women spewing comedic jokes, a nanny with a nasally accent provided laughter, and a prince from bel-air but kit doesn’t bat an eyelash. his expression is forlorn, eyes an empty abyss of dull, mousy brown.

there was a knock on his door but he forewent a reply, wanting to have some alone time. then there was another until the knocking was constant, ringing in his ears. he snapped his head at the door as soon as it opened without a verbal permission of sorts.

“get out,” he hissed, voice eerily too deep for a boy of eleven.

elena stepped in, no longer bound to a clunky wheelchair. she padded to his bed, ignoring his wishes. “i heard you screaming earlier-“

the pink, swollen skin around kit’s eyes tightened, his jaw clenching as venom laced his words. “i was not screaming.”

“crying, then.” elena sat herself on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her thighs as she studied his appearance. there was no pity. just curiosity. “you’re not going home anytime soon, huh?”

kit glanced away, hard expression set on the cracks through the blinds. he saw nothing but pretend to be invested in anything else but the truth. the silence answered her questions and elena nodded knowingly.

“i’m glad you’re here.”

“excuse me?” kit grimaced, half disgusted by her confession and half confused. he returned his glare onto her and she refused to meet it, sight set on the floor.

“i’m glad you’re here. we can keep each other company. if you stay at home, who will be there for you? your parents have work and henry has sch-“<\small>

“your logic makes no sense,” he scowled. how could anyone wish for him to stay in some place he detested with every cell of his existence.

“you’ll get better, kit,” elena said wisely, as if she was certain his fate was guaranteed or written in the morning paper she fancied reading. “i know it. i can feel it. just hold on a little longer. the hospital isn’t so bad. the food, though.” in synchronization, they glanced at the tray of food settled on a bedside table. “that can be better.”

it didn’t know whether to groan or laugh but the most natural of chuckles spilled from his lips when he allowed himself the pleasure of loosening up. he was never so high-strung but the ambience of the hospital changed him. chemotherapy and radiation left him wilted, draining his last bits of energy until he was a blackhole, destructive to only himself. a rose, who was once brilliant red, now decaying with no color to its merit.

“finally,” elena grinned, her freckled cheeks pushing her eyes into merry crescents. “a smile. you look better when you smile.”

“you’ve been reading too many romance novels. you need to lay off.” flushed cheeks and heat prickling the tips of his ears, kit cleared his throat to act unaffected. aloof, even.

“what can i say, they take me away.” shutting her eyes, the sunlight peering through the gaps in the blinds settled on her face. the brown, orange, tan specks on her complexion luminescent, matching the radiance of her fiery, orange hair.

kit felt a strange, foreign beat in his chest. he clasped a hand over his heart, worried of yet another side affect of his treatment: he was exhausted of the migraines, the nausea, the vomiting. all he wanted was peace. but the sensation was different. it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it felt oddly calming while encouraging all at once.

he gulped, flickering his gaze anywhere but not on the trigger of the new anomaly.

—

“woah!” elena gaped in awe at the music video kit showed her on the computer once it came to an inevitable and bitter finish. her eyes were glazed, starry and astonished.

“what did i tell you?” kit stood proudly, hands perched on his hips. “cool, right?”

“very cool,” chuckled elena, scenes of the video zipping through her head in rewind. “i can see you doing that.”

bashfully, kit ran his hands over his beanie, adjusting the elastic hem around his pinkish ears. “you think? i don’t know. i can’t really sing, dance or rap.”

“but you can learn!” elena positively quipped, nothing short of belief etched on her façade. “some people are born great and some are taught greatness.”

“did you get that from a book…” kit laughed, resting his weight on the foot of elena’s bed as he pulled the laptop closer, typing in something else into the search engine.

“nope! i thought of it all on my own.”

“três cheesy,” kit pursed his lips, tossing her a teasing glance, eyebrow arched and disappearing under his favorite maroon beanie.

“oh, you like my cheesy butt!” elena giggled, unknowingly hitting the nail squarely on the head.

if kit wasn’t used to the cheeky lingo, the smile on his face would have faltered and the truth would have been revealed. he couldn’t have that. he watched many shows and learned feelings between good friends ultimately ruined the friendship. no, he would do no such thing.

—

“elena!” kit shouted as soon as he raced into elena’s hospital room. she laid in her bed, head in the clouds per usual. knowing her like the back of his hand (better, even), kit could tell she was restlessly daydreaming by the foggy disposition in her hazel eyes.

“hey, kit,” she greeted less enthusiastically, tired from treatment. warmth still graced her features, pursing her lips to a sincere smile. “you came just in time.”

no longer bound to the four walls of the hospital, kit would drop by weekly to pay elena a visit. he never missed a date; he was always on time. never tardy.

“i have great news to tell you!” the grin on kit’s face was so broad, so spectacular that it threatened the sun’s intensity and power. happiness was alive and well, setting fireworks in every nook and cranny of his body. “i’m cancer free!”

elena couldn’t hide the joy on her face. the tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision. her sobs were incoherent but kit understood every word.

“i’m so happy for you! i knew you could do it! didn’t i tell you you’ll get better?”

kit found a box of tissues stowed away in elena’s hospital bag. he ripped open the seal and plucked a few sheets for her to dry her damp face. the sincerity of her reaction touched kit immensely. he felt like bursting into tears too but refrained from doing so.

“yeah, you did.” he grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers. “and you’ll get better too. and when you do, we’ll go to korea and you can cheer me on at my audition!”

elena grinned flawlessly, flooding kit with an emotion he didn’t know existed prior. “i’ll be your first and biggest fan!”

—

“are you sure we won’t get in trouble for this?” the squeaky wheel of the wheelchair and the pads of kit’s steps are the only sounds they hear in the midst of their privy conversation.

“certain,” kit fibbed. a little while lie never hurt anyone. partially, it was honest. she wouldn’t get in trouble; but he would.

he pushed the rooftop door open with his back, wheeling elena out delicately. the wind blew through them. that winter night was courteous. not too cold. kit’s winter coat around elena kept her cozy.

“wow,” elena marvelled, eyes everywhere on the starry sky. the white, silver specks glistened. “the view is better up here.”

“beats that crappy room you’re in,” kit retorted, rolling her close enough to the edge to see the roads and the few cars driving down them, speeding wistfully into the darkness.

“it’s not crappy,” defended elena. she loved that room of hers. practically, it was home. she spent more time there than anywhere else. kit hated that.

“nothing beats the outside.” he extended his arms, gesturing at what the world outside a pokey hospital had to offer. “the fresh air. the stars.” kit inhaled deeply, soaking in the chilly breeze before coughing, throat and mouth torrid.

elena shifted her gaze from the twinkling canvas to him, lips forming the fondest of smiles. “you never liked the hospital.”

“why would i?” kit let his arms fall, swinging them by his side. “it’s shit.”

“saved your life, though.”

“and took away many others.”

shaking her head in defeat, elena knew there was no reasoning with kit. he was too stubborn. an argument wasn’t worth it.

“thank you bringing me here. it’s beautiful.” elena craned her neck, admiring the natural wonders of the universe before being enclosed away again.

kit nodded, admiration clear in his crystal eyes. “anything for you.”

—

kit tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, mindlessly waiting for the rings to cease and a familiar voice to pick up. the only voice kit wanted to hear after a gruelling day of exam reviews. he spun a basketball in his hand, pacing the empty space in front of his bed to pass the time. he was growing progressively restless, hating to stand idle with nothing to do but breathe and exist. he was tired of that mundane lifestyle.

“hey, kit-kat,” echoed elena’s groggy voice.

“hey, were you sleeping? i’m sorry i woke you.” looking at the time on his digital alarm clock, kit mentally shot himself for calling right after her chemotherapy treatment. he should have been more aware of how fatigued elena would be. “i can call back if-“

elena’s heartwarming giggles stopped him, as well as paused his pulse for the most fleeting of moments. time stood still and kit could almost see her, despite the roads between them. he envisioned her lying in her bed, facing the sun that poured through her window (she never liked having her curtains shut). the golden yellow rays dancing across her peaceful face; freckles intricate and hazel eyes shining.

“no, i’m good,” she said but yawned at the end. “so, how was your official last day of school before exams?”

“hated it,” kit sang, tossing the basketball up into the air, then caught it for a repeat. “but once i finish my exam tomorrow, i’ll come visit!”

the first year of high school took a toll on kit’s routine vsitations. club activities prevented him from seeing elena on the usual day—friday, so he went whenever available. the dates were scattered and dwindled into monthly subscriptions. kit hated it. he was going to korea soon and despite planning for elena to come along, the universe had other things in mind for her. ill-fated things.

“i’ll ask for extra jello for you,” elena added, knowing how much kit loved the snack since their lunch-dates in the past.

kit snorted, dropping his weight and bouncing on his mattress, discarding the basketball to properly hold his phone with a secure grip. “i have something in mind for my audition. i want you to hear it before anyone else.”

“ooo!” elena squealed, energy returning to her voice. she’s grown to sound so calm but it was obvious it wasn’t intentional. she was tired. “i can’t wait for this VIP showing of your audition. i feel so lucky!”

“you are lucky,” kit confirmed, foolishly smiling from ear to ear as he thought, i’m luckier. he never told elena how he felt but he had an inkling she knew and returned them. for now, that was enough for him. he could wait for her. she had more important matters to prioritize: getting better, beating cancer. not a walk in the park but kit was there and would always be there for her, supporting her, cheering her on. the day she would be cancer free would be the happiest day of his life, greatly surpassing the day he found out he was miraculously healed.

the time caught his peripheral and kit knew his mum would be calling him down to dinner soon—too soon. “hey, elena, i gotta go-“

“tell your mum, dad and henry i said hi, okay?”

there was never dread in elena’s voice. only kindness and understanding. she matured wonderfully. well beyond her years.

“i will. i’ll see you tomorrow. goodnight,” kit said quietly, hope wedged between each word, glueing the sentence together.

when all were fast asleep, dreaming lucidly of endless possibilities, kit received a text. the notification fell on deaf ears for kit was lost in the slumber. he saw elena and approached her but she only receded, waving sorrowfully.

kit woke up. tears stained his face. then he checked his phone.

thank you, kit.

he learned later that morning elena passed away. she went in her sleep. peacefully. without turbulence. no pain. no struggle. she went easily. almost willingly too.

years later, kit continued to ache. some days were agonizing; he heard her laughter in the backstage dressing rooms of music programs, in the audience at a variety appearance, during daytime strolls, in conversations he heard when passed, in his mind when he laid awake in the middle of the night; everywhere except… the club, the bar, anywhere extreme: the top of a building, the edge of a bridge, in conversations with strangers. in those instances, those mere lapses in time, kit forgot, burying the pain under disguises of temporary adrenaline and joy.

but when he did reminisce, the pain and loss was fresh, as if elena left him yesterday and not seven years ago. whoever said time heals all wounds was a liar. a fraud. time had done nothing to his wounds. they festered. they still bled.

kit bled.

every day.

for the love who left him.

#&&. self-para.#&&. development.#// this is honestly so long idk what happened #// i was going separate it into two parts but that’d ruin the flow :\#// if you can make it till the end i love ya a lotto #// < 3

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