#subject to change upon publishing the whole chapter of course | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 3 years

Text

Now I Am An Arsonist

Chapter 1: The Spark

Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.

Tags: Canon typical violence, ChellDOS, human!GLaDOS, found family

A/N: I know technically I published this a while back but I did some major edits to both the chapters I’ve already written and the story as a whole. As promised, I’m re-releasing what I already have with the edits/illustrations.

---

The tests, at least, hadn’t changed.

The centuries had washed over them like a dawdling stream, dragging them down into an overgrown abyss. Even then, the moon dust had stayed firmly adhered to the portal surfaces, the metal doors still creaking and the ceiling still intact. Eons of rain had barely even permeated its surface.

She remembered those years with profound regret; dying was not as peaceful as the science would suggest. For a machine like Her, death was nothing more than a shift of programming, a new prerogative. Her backup program had been an endless recall, restarting Her systems over and over again, trying to salvage something. In each of those moments, GLaDOS could feel the scorching heat from the incinerator, the electricity burning through her body before everything went dark.

Still, without dying, GLaDOS never would’ve fully appreciated how soothing, how wonderful it was to test.

She remembered the urge to solve, to do Science, clawing within Her even as She broke into a thousand pieces.

Those tests were Her art forms, Her self-expression. Every arrangement of deadly turrets, each layout of gleaming lasers and the perfectly calculated solution felt like a piece of Her soul turned reality.

Now, those tests were better than ever.

Every inch of moss had been thoroughly scrubbed, walls repaired, and acid pits replaced. All except for the grave of Old Aperture beneath Her was now newly outfitted, perfect for the humans P-Body and Atlas had located.

These, of course, hadn’t been the first ones they’d found.

The first batch of humans lasted a measly week, quickly killed by some of Her easiest tests. Even with reminders, the acid is deadly, the turrets are live, they’d failed within a few chambers.

Disappointing.

As a result, Atlas and P-Body had been deployed on a new mission. She’d been overjoyed when they’d bravely traveled all the way to the bottom of Old Aperture, and found even more humans preserved in cryosleep.

This time would surely be better.

All obstacles finally removed, science could continue.

GLaDOS could not smile, but if She could, She was certain that a grin would reach across her faceplate.

Today was a momentous day for technology, for the advancement of Aperture Science. It was as if She’d sent a man to the moon, and he’d come back with the theory of everything.

Originally, of course, Her plans had been different. The difficulties with Chell had worn down Her admiration for human data, and prompted her to come up with a replacement.

The Cooperative Testing initiative was infinitely more of a success than GLaDOS ever thought it would be. Atlas and P-Body were built to test, but She had still been surprised how those little androids with so much personality had managed to be so efficient.

Atlas and P-Body had overcome their own confidence through their excellent teamwork. The knowledge that they depended on a partner humbled them, and the idea of a common goal incentivized them. GLaDOS wished She’d thought of such an idea sooner.

Still, there was something about human testing, something She couldn’t quantify, something that wasn’t quite the same with robots. Humans had a particular spark, and without it, testing never felt complete.

Today would finally be the day She could put all mistakes behind Her. GLaDOS was sure She’d see that all of the other humans would prove Her experience with Chell to be exactly what She knew it was.

Bad science.

GLaDOS had learned from Her errors.

She knew for certain that She would not repeat them.

---

It’d been extraordinarily difficult to move the test subjects from Old Aperture all the way to the newly renovated Relaxation Center, with entire teams of robots struggling to reconnect Her control over the condemned area. Their work easily took a week to complete as they rewired the dilapidated circuits, barely restoring function. GLaDOS took what She could get, and rewarded their achievement with immediate, merciful destruction.

When the humans had been successfully relocated, anxiety filled Her servos as She scanned the cryo-chambers. Upon reading the results, She found herself pleasantly surprised. Good physical condition for hundreds of years in stasis. Relatively low rates of severe brain damage. Nothing particularly concerning in their associate files. Had Her comprehension not been perfect, She would’ve done a double take. After all this time, She had something that She could work with.

Atlas and P-Body would have to wait until they were needed again, their consciousness safely stored in Her mainframe. Her processors hummed with excitement as She prepared for the awakening of the first humans, buzzing with hypotheses to test.

What would be Her experiment this time? GLaDOS scrolled through Her endless lists of deadly trials.

She hadn’t used rocket turrets in a while; those weren’t as efficient as the regular ones but were always a surprise for Her unwilling participants. With only a thought, She placed the machines inside a few chambers, lining them up in a neat, strategically placed array. Companion cubes would be a definite no, at least for the first few tests. There were occasions when the humans became so deprived for social connection that their behavior would influence the results. In order to better control the experiment, She’d deploy them only in emergencies like these.

With those exceptions, and the addition of a floor to some of the more difficult levels, the chambers didn’t require too much preparation. GLaDOS had nothing particularly new to add; for so long Her energy had been focused on Atlas and P-Body that development had nearly come to a standstill. Regrettably, She’d been deprived of ideas. It didn’t matter too much; the facility remained operational even if it wasn’t constantly progressing. Even the replication of old results was invaluable for science.

It confirmed that the trends hadn’t changed.

---

The files of the subjects were all very much the same.

Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Praying mantis, formerly scientist.

Occasionally, She’d find the elusive Astronaut, War Hero or even Olympian.

She was tempted to begin the testing with these special cases, curiosity piqued at the prospect of their odd results. GLaDOS chastised Herself. She didn’t want to skew anything, and She would surely begin with a normal subject chosen at random. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to test, but it would be the most informative.

With the chambers compiled and the facility clean, testing was finally ready to start.

She almost couldn’t believe it. All technicalities aside, She was finally, finally, getting exactly what She wanted. For as long as She needed to, for as long as the subjects lasted, She could just test.

It couldn’t be real, could it?

That was the most beautiful thing about science. For all its disappointments, a discovery would be worth it all.

---

“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided testing program.”

Her voice resounded throughout the Extended Relaxation Vault as the subject stumbled across the room in disbelief.

“The Enrichment Center would like to take this opportunity to remind you that hundreds of years have passed, and that all of your friends and family are most likely dead. In the off chance that your friends and family are not dead, they will be tested. Thank you, [insert subject name here], for your unwilling voluntary participation in the advancement of science.”

The subject, an adult human male, selfishly resolved to huddle in the corner of the relaxation chamber. Of course, he was either brain damaged, in shock, or both. In order to assuage his gentle human feelings, GLaDOS would have to resume Her telling of… alternative truths.

GLaDOS wasn’t entirely sure what She’d said wrong. Honestly, She was surprised the subject didn’t appreciate Her integrity. After all, Chell hadn’t exactly taken kindly to Her tendency towards pathological lying. Here She was, trying to improve the well-being of Her subjects, and this was how they thanked Her?

“Hello, again, valued forced participant. The Aperture Science Enrichment Center commends you for your blind faith in the words of authority. As part of routine testing protocol, we have lied to you about the fate of your family and friends. When the testing is complete, you will receive cake and the opportunity to… see them. Your response has given us valuable psychological data on the well-being of our test subjects when told that all of their friends and family are dead.”

GLaDOS paused for a moment, focusing Her camera in the chamber and watching as the man lifted his head from his upright fetal position.

“Good. You’ve already passed one of the first stages of testing. Congratulations, [insert subject name here].”

As much as it felt wrong to use, positive reinforcement was highly effective when employed sparingly. Too many attacks on character could obliterate a subject’s morale. Just enough would account for the variable of human hubris.

Cautiously, the subject stood up and examined the room around him, fear still apparent in his apprehensive gait and wide eyes.

“In order to mentally reinvigorate you for the tests and to ensure your aptitude, the Enrichment Center recommends that you stare at the painting on the wall in front of you.”

Creeping over to the portrait, the subject followed Her orders and stared intently at the picture of Mount Rainier. He ran his fingers over the edge of the frame, tracing the tall peak of the mountain.

Interrupting his thoughts, a buzzer sounded, blaring throughout the entire room. The subject flinched from the surprise, nearly losing his balance.

“Good job. If you are not reinvigorated, consider this piece of human music.”

This time, the human expected the buzzer after the quick classical piece, seemingly more at ease with the abrupt nature of Aperture Science. In all reactions, he was completely, almost painfully average.

“Well done. You have completed the Aperture Science mental reinvigoration procedure. We may now begin testing.”

Without warning, the chamber jerked to the side as She moved it to a nearby docking station, then coming to an unexpected standstill as the door automatically opened.

GLaDOS could barely maintain Her monotonous affect, in joyous denial that testing would finally start.

Carefully, the human stepped out of the door into the test track. The door slammed behind him, as he examined the purely white room with nothing but a cube, a large button, and a locked gateway.

Almost immediately, he wrapped the blue storage cube in his arms, then gently placed it on the button. A line of blue lights leading to the gate illuminated, flashing a bright yellow as the door slid open. A lift was waiting on the other side.

As he sauntered over to the lift, it was difficult to miss the human’s triumphant smile. GLaDOS knew the expression well; it was satisfaction, victory, an unproven sense of control.

He really does have no idea.

She was tempted to spoil the ending, to mention turrets, to mention pools of burning acid. It had to wait, She reminded herself. An important control was that the test subject needed time to acclimate to a dangerous environment. Creating unnecessary fear would definitely affect her numbers.

---

The next few puzzles weren’t particularly challenging for Her first subject. Completed within a span of about ten minutes each, the first five chambers were hardly difficult for anyone. That much She’d expected.

On Her end, everything else was normal. She hardly spoke Her mind, instead opting to repeat the same script She used for every subject.

Did you know you can donate one or all of your vital organs to the Aperture Science Self-Esteem Fund for Girls? It’s true!

You have completed the test in a moderate amount of time. You can do better, [insert subject name here].

The Aperture Science Enrichment Center reminds you that we prioritize your safety. We also prioritize science. In fact, we prioritize science more, but if you feel unsafe in our unsafe conditions, please notify a testing associate. They will process your complaint in three-to-five business days.

Like most subjects, the man had not volunteered to give up his organs nor asked for an associate. Instead, he responded to most of Her passive-aggressive quips with useless questions. She did not reply, passing them off as typical human blabbering. Rather, She recorded them in his file underneath a new section She labeled Overly-Talkative: Examples. There was plenty to jot down.

Uh, robot lady? When can I go home?

So, uh, what kinda cake is it? Like, I don’t really mind the flavor but I’m allergic to almonds if that’s relevant.

How long does this last, again?

I kinda like my organs, sorry. Wait, is the organ thing required?

Once again, pitifully average.

It was times like these, whether with humans or with Atlas and P-Body, that GLaDOS caught Her mind wandering towards forbidden thoughts. Science was not always supposed to be exciting; sometimes, running an experiment meant repeating the same process to verify the data. The result was satisfying, but the process was more often not.

This human epitomized the dullest parts of her day.

As informative as the humans could be, they were often far from entertaining. Every behavior could be predicted and rationalized once it’d been observed enough.

Chell, though?

Oh, sure, GLaDOS was terrified of her, no matter how much She’d deny the feeling. No subject had ever left the track before.

But Chell didn’t just survive. She’d escaped from the tests, she’d found Her chamber, she’d murdered Her with little else than a portal device. Twice.

Her ego was as vast as the realm of Aperture, but it would never recover from that spectacular injury. Even GLaDOS had to be humbled by that.

And yet, with morbid curiosity, She had eagerly anticipated Chell’s next plans, laying traps in scheming delight. For the first time in Her life, She’d been challenged.

It was an odd little game they’d played, and whenever She was close to getting the upper hand, a part of Her was disappointed that the chase would be over. There was something delightful about watching the peculiar way that Chell and Chell alone tested.

When Doug Rattman had switched Chell’s file, GLaDOS was not so oblivious as not to notice. She’d clearly read the bottom of the paper, firmly requesting that this subject not be tested. GLaDOS had other tenacious subjects before, and She’d simply assumed that this human was particularly overconfident. Those ones never lasted too long.

Chell was not, as She’d thought, only determined.

She was curious, changing variables one by one until she finally found the answer. Her patience was remarkable, but so were her deductive skills. Some test subjects with similar tenacity levels resolved to try the same solutions over and over again, exhausting themselves and eventually burning out. It was the reason why GLaDOS typically ignored the warnings. Most humans labeled ‘tenacious’ weren’t too different in the end. The key for Chell was not simple defiance. Chell could control herself. That’s why she was such an outlier.

She had the mentality of a scientist.

Most subjects were cautious, prioritizing self-preservation over a solution. Turret levels could be aggravating for GLaDOS to watch, as the humans spent more time hiding behind a corner in fear than actually solving the test. They would be safe if they’d just strategized, but the human mind made accepting that fact a difficult feat.

Chell was the opposite. GLaDOS theorized that perhaps, Chell understood the same principle She did. Chell was scared like any other, but despite her pounding heart and racing thoughts, she’d kept her cool. Any new element was only a matter of adaptation for Chell, and Chell was always evolving.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Chell was an optimist, often performing pointless tasks that could only be described as trying to have fun. GLaDOS gave her lemons, and Chell made lemonade.

Chell would smile as she soared, launched from the aerial faith plates, and took her time to explore the little rooms hidden in the corners of the tests. There was one time she’d put off the completion of one puzzle by nearly an hour, hiding out in one of Doug’s rat dens, fascinated by all the little cups and cans he’d arranged.

It would be a lie to say that Chell liked testing. Her episodes made it clear that escape was Chell’s first priority. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the small glimmers of hope GLaDOS gave her, whether that was bouncing on repulsion gel, saving a defective turret or smuggling a companion cube.

After Wheatley took over, one of the more terrifying aspects of the whole journey was being stuck on Chell’s gun. Chell was a risk taker, building her strategy off of previous attempts and lessons learned, but knowing when to dive into the unknown. It wasn’t exactly comforting to be strapped to her side, not knowing if or when one of Chell’s ideas would kill them both.

Somehow, though, her spontaneity had worked.

GLaDOS could respect that… creativity.

It was for this reason that even though GLaDOS now had everything She’d ever wanted, something deep in her hard drive felt empty.

Something had changed the moment Wheatley stuffed Her into that single-volt potato. For the first time in Her life, there was nobody else there in Her mind. No one but Caroline, who had been buried underneath layers of code until She was barely there at all.

It was over the span of those fifteen hours that She’d seen Chell from a different perspective. Looking at Her tests from this angle, it was much easier to see why Chell wanted to leave. Some small piece of GLaDOS almost felt bad upon realizing that Her subjects didn’t enjoy dodging bullets nearly as much as She liked watching.

Fortunately, GLaDOS had been able to shove that down with the arrival of a different, equally unpleasant emotion.

She was supposed to hate Chell. And for a very long time, She had. How dare Chell ruin Her perfect tests, Her perfect existence, Her perfect world? What had She ever done to her to warrant such a cruel punishment?

And yet, it seemed Caroline had done a number on GLaDOS’ logic processors, because now no matter how She tried, She could not hate Chell.

Before She’d let her go, let Chell go of all things, GLaDOS had called Chell Her best friend.

Not an enemy. Not a begrudging ally. A friend. Her only friend.

Now, Caroline was gone. The part of GLaDOS that had once looked at Chell and found something beautiful in her icy gray eyes was corrupted beyond repair, erased from memory.

She was not supposed to feel its presence any longer, yet still it lingered.

It was there, whispering to Her as She tried to test like nothing ever happened.

It was there when a thousand turrets sang the opera She’d written specifically for Chell.

It was there when She’d found Her baby birds, Her little killing machines, and She hadn’t crushed the eggs. No, She’d raised them. Because, deep down in those cold avian stares, there was this irrevocable quality that reminded Her so much of Chell. This spark of life, this undamnable will to survive.

Somewhere, though She refused to ever admit it, She wished that it was Chell in those test chambers. She wished it was Chell glaring through Her camera feed, and She wished it was Chell searching for that elusive cake.

I’d make you the cake if you came back. Really, I would.

The sudden thought moved like a spark in GLaDOS, as She fearfully located the source and removed whatever She could. There was no time for ideas like that, not with science to be done.

The past few months had been full of random deletions, spurned by paranoia that Caroline’s base program was not entirely gone.

It’s not here anymore, GLaDOS reminded Herself. Once, She had been Caroline, but She was no longer the kindly woman who followed Cave Johnson’s every order. GLaDOS was a machine that felt nothing and lived only to test. And because She was immortal, and because She was perfect, GLaDOS was not supposed to care about some disobedient human being.

You do not care about Chell anymore.

You don’t care because she killed you, remember that?

You don’t care about anyone, because you don’t need to.

Necessity was the core reason why GLaDOS did anything. She tested because the mainframe made Her feel awful until She did, and She killed because it was what she was made to do. She did science because it needed to be advanced, for the brighter future She was sure She was making.

It made no sense to do something because She wanted to.

Of course, things seldom made sense here at Aperture Science, and in this moment, GLaDOS did something unconscionable.

GLaDOS did not glitch often. She’d made sure to update and replace faulty parts whenever She could, keeping Her mainframe running smoothly. Even so, somewhere deep within Her, She was sure there was a pulse that misfired. There could be no other explanation.

Perhaps it was Her rumination over Chell that brought this upon Her, some kind of karma punishing Her for acting too human. Why else would She have done something so incredibly unscientific? To distract Herself, GLaDOS turned her attention back to the captive man.

Like many others before him, this test subject had underestimated the turrets’ range. He hadn’t turned around fast enough to see the gleaming, bullet filled machines behind him, and nearly flew directly into their line of sight after careening through a portal. His momentum would take him past all three, riddling him with bullets.

That is, it would’ve.

The human quality of the subject had activated some kind of horrible reflex, a split second decision in GLaDOS She would come to regret. The way he walked through the chambers, the way he clung tightly to cubes… all of it was so similar to Chell. Even if he didn’t meet her performance level, even if his personality was nearly the opposite of Chell’s, their shared humanity was enough to remind GLaDOS. That same emotion She felt when pulling Chell back from space, waiting for her to open her eyes while Atlas and P-Body looked on… For some inconceivable reason, it had reappeared.

Quickly, the subject hit the side of a rising panel, suddenly pulled up in front of the turrets by none other than GLaDOS Herself.

This would surely ruin Her numbers.

As the participant rubbed his head in pain and slowly stood up, immediately noticing the turrets he’d evaded, GLaDOS’ voice resounded from the intercom.

“[Insert subject name here], your decent performance has warranted the use of an Aperture Science Emergency Life-Saving Instantaneous Response. This is the only safety gesture that will be provided. Continue testing.”

Another lie.

It was good to know that function was still online.

---

That uncharacteristic moment of empathy had been pointless, anyway. Just as She’d predicted, he’d accidentally tripped over a ledge and landed himself into a puddle of acidic goo, dissolving within a few short seconds.

It didn’t matter. GLaDOS had more subjects than She could count. She didn’t need this human, and the tests didn’t need him either.

Some part of Her, a piece which was faulty and insignificant, disagreed with the notion.

You killed him, it whispered accusingly.

That’s the point, GLaDOS hissed back, once again delving into Her files to cut out whatever was causing the issue.

Trying to calm Herself, GLaDOS reminded Herself of the facts. She was in control of Her facility, and She was in control of Her mainframe. Little errors could not ruin the chambers, and if they ever showed up, She had the power to crush them.

Everything was fine, She thought.

Everything would continue to be fine.

All She needed to do was keep testing.

---

Everything was, in fact, far from fine.

A few days had passed, and GLaDOS was finally ready to admit that maybe something was wrong.

At first, the issue was Her own. Little surges of emotion and bursts of unforeseen empathy plagued Her but didn’t affect the facility at large. Begrudgingly, She’d factored in the new bias into Her results. From Her calculations, She could already see an egregiously high percentage of error. This study could’ve been Her worst one yet, and even that was with generous rounding.

Still, She had hope for each subject that She wouldn’t mess up this time.

The facility had other ideas. Cameras would fizzle out, emancipation grills would stop working, cube dispensers malfunctioned and even the elevators would refuse to move. It seemed that the moment GLaDOS got around to fixing something, another thing would fall apart.

Many of the subjects had become confused as to why this seamless, futuristic facility was suddenly malfunctioning, and She’d had to become increasingly creative with Her excuses.

As part of the Aperture Science testing protocol, we have simulated faulty equipment in the testing environment to see how subjects react to faulty equipment in the testing environment. Hint – they typically react well and continue testing. Like you will.

The lifesaving, and the reflexive empathy, had become unfortunately common as well.

Although the Enrichment Center previously told you that your life could only be saved once, we regret to inform you that protocol has suddenly and permanently changed. We would also like to remind you that your measly existence is still not valued despite our attempts to preserve it.

GLaDOS knew She had to find a solution, quickly.

Interrupting the tests wasn’t an option. The chassis would never forgive Her if She stopped, filling Her body with an ache that would not disappear until science resumed.

Deleting wasn’t an option, either. Fervent attempts to find the source of the problem had led only to more glitches upon the erasure of critical files. Then, Her attempts to restore them only recreated the original error.

The problem was like a moving virus, jumping between Her systems before She could catch it and kill it. Even for Her, it proved too fast to find.

She couldn’t panic, not now. Surely, She thought, She’d fix this like She’d fixed everything else. With science on Her side, most threats resolved themselves or died trying. This wouldn’t be any different.

It couldn’t be any different. For something to be uncontrollable, and uncontrollable for Her especially, was the most terrifying thing She could possibly imagine. It brought Her back to Her potato days, during which She’d promised Herself that She would never be weak again.

For these few months, She’d kept that promise. Until now, no subject had seen Her mercy.

But had they?

She thought back to the birds, creatures who trusted GLaDOS, who loved Her in whatever capacity three little crows could. She thought back to Chell, because for some awful reason, Her thoughts always went back to Chell.

No, She thought firmly.

We are not doing this now.

We are fixing the facility, because we need to.

Because we need testing. We like testing.

The voice from before suddenly returned.

Do you like it? Do you really?

GLaDOS felt Her rage processors fire up.

What was this little virus even saying? Of course She liked it. It didn’t matter anyway. Science had to be done, and so She was doing it. GLaDOS could not even begin to imagine life without tests, life without science. What kind of meaningless, awful existence would that even be?

In fact, She would prove to the voice that science would continue. She would prove that testing was productive, that everything in Aperture was doing good for the world and good for humanity. Most importantly, it was doing good for Her.

Wasn’t it?

GLaDOS ignored Her curiosity. Just test. That was all She had to do. Just test, and everything would be alright.

Just. Test.

---

As another few days passed, the facility had become almost unusable. She’d had to shut down some of Her favorite testing tracks, the power leached out of them and the appliances completely nonfunctional. GLaDOS knew She was running out of time before something drastic happened. Still, She had to keep testing.

Now, even the subjects had begun to sense Her panic. One even strolled up to a camera, made eye contact, and asked if She was alright. GLaDOS didn’t dare respond the question; She wasn’t ready to admit the answer.

For all intents and purposes, She was definitely, absolutely, decidedly not alright.

Knowing that, She should’ve considered this next subject an omen.

There was absolutely no way She could test with this one.

She barely looked like Chell, but GLaDOS could see her tenacity, her drive and determination from a mile away. The way the subject carried herself, tied her hair into a ponytail and said nothing was too much.

GLaDOS couldn’t even bring Herself to kill the woman, instead instructing her to return to Extended Relaxation after only a few chambers.

It felt as if GLaDOS physically could not test anymore, despite everything inside Her craving the satisfaction of a completed trial.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right.

GLaDOS prided Herself on Her apathy, but even that had left without a trace. Now, She had tried everything, and still nothing was working. The facility was closing down on Her, and if She didn’t do something, She’d go down with it.

When the announcer finally sounded, GLaDOS couldn’t say She was surprised. If anything, She was grateful for any kind of clarification.

The male voice on the intercom was matter of fact, unaware of the danger it spoke of.

“Reactor Core malfunctioning. All major power systems except for reserve geothermal are going offline.”

Offline? She’d been managing the reactor core perfectly; if She hadn’t, the entire facility would’ve gone up in flames weeks ago. It wasn’t melting down, it was shutting down, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned it off.

What the hell is happening?

There was nobody else in the facility who could’ve possibly done such a thing, nobody except Her, and as far as She could tell the glitch had not interfered.

It didn’t matter now; She didn’t have time to waste.

“In the event of a power malfunction, standard procedure is to shut down the central core to preserve remaining power.”

How convenient.

“Central core, do you consent to the removal procedure?”

“No, no, no! Do not start removal!”

How was this happening? GLaDOS was sure this couldn’t be real.

“Noted. Removal procedure has been delayed by five minutes.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Skimming over Her files, GLaDOS desperately searched for anything with removal procedure or shutdown. Scanning thousands of documents, looking for anything, all mention of the procedure was absent. There was no reason, no explanation, it was just happening. And worst of all, She couldn’t do a thing.

“Dangerous levels of panic have been sensed in the central core. Do not worry, methods of core preservation are available.”

Why the hell had they waited to tell Her that?

“Show me, show me now!” Anything would be better than shutting down again. She couldn’t do that again, not after hundreds of years. She couldn’t, She couldn’t.

“Panicked request acknowledged. There exist two types of core preservation features. Direct Mechanical Implantation or Organic Transplant Procedure.”

Direct Mechanical Implantation. She hadn’t heard of the second thing, but GLaDOS did know what Direct Mechanical Implantation meant. It was only a transfer into an empty personality core, which was far less than ideal, but better than dying again. Far better than dying a third time.

As fast as She could, GLaDOS selected the first option.

“Unfortunately, Direct Mechanical Implantation is unavailable. Continue with Organic Transplant Procedure?”

“Do you have any other options? Anything else?” GLaDOS did not want to take Her chances on anything with the word organic in it.

“Other methods unavailable. Two minutes remaining.”

This was it, Her only choice. If She shut down now, there would be nobody to come and wake Her this time.

There was nothing else to do.

“Initiate Organic Transplant Procedure,” She commanded.

Without a second thought, the facility obliged.

---

#glados #chell #wheatley #fic #fanfiction #portal #portal 2 #chelldos #canon typical violence #chapter 1 #niaaa #now i am an arsonist #art #digital art

129 notes · View notes

scone-lover · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL.

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue!

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???”

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL.

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles.

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head.

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines.

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow.

We do love to see it.

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL.

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

36 notes · View notes

terramythos · 3 years

Text

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 15 of 26

Title: Tehanu (Earthsea Cycle #4) (1990)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Third-Person, Female Protagonist

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 6/24/2021

Date Finished: 6/30/2021

Decades after The Tombs of Atuan, Tenar decided to settle down and live an ordinary life on the shepherding Isle of Gont. Now a farmer’s widow, she adopts a disfigured and horrifically abused child, who she names Therru. When a giant dragon deposits a grief-stricken Ged at her doorstep, Tenar finds herself in a strange situation as she cares for her old friend and her adopted daughter. But threats from Therru’s past and a malevolent force on the island soon threaten Tenar’s small family.

Despair speaks evenly, in a quiet voice.

Content warnings and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Violence and death. Mentioned murder. Severe child abuse. Descriptions of traumatic injury and disfigurement. Mentions of r*pe, including of children. Trauma, sexism, and ableism are explored in depth.

Tehanu is a much different book than the trilogy that precedes it. Perhaps this is unsurprising, considering the 17-year gap between this book and The Farthest Shore. I’d describe the Earthsea series as “grounded fantasy”. While all of them take place in a magical world, the thesis of each book is universal; the fantasy always comes second. Tehanu takes this idea to an extreme. The story is about everyday life as a common woman in the Earthsea world, with fantasy barely factoring in. The pacing is intentionally slow and introspective, which is something I normally don’t like, but Le Guin is a consistent exception.

Key characters from the previous books make an appearance. Obviously Tenar is the biggest return, absent since The Tombs of Atuan. The Tenar in this book is older and much more mature, having decided to live a simple life in spite of her adventures and accomplishments. Ged returns, but he’s a shell of his former self, as he mourns the loss of his magic and the man he used to be. Even King Lebannen (formerly Arren, the main character of The Farthest Shore) makes a brief appearance, and is quite a palate cleanser after the horrible men throughout the rest of the book.

Probably my favorite aspect of the novel is the fact that these characters stand well on their own without magic to prop them up. Tenar explored the terrifying freedom she won in The Tombs of Atuan; got married, settled down, had kids — but still finds herself at a loss on what to do with her life after her husband dies. Ged is in a similar boat; he’s gone from an almost mythic character to an ordinary man, and like Tenar finds himself at a crossroads in life. Other characters embody this idea of transformation and uncertainty; Therru’s escaped her abusers and now has a loving mother, but what does the future hold for someone with her appearance? Stuff like that.

The idea of metamorphosis and new beginnings is well-trodden. But what makes Tehanu interesting is Le Guin primarily examines this with the middle-aged characters. Tenar and Ged are legendary figures in the world of Earthsea, but life has taken them to an uncertain future. The thrust of the novel lies in finding a purpose and becoming someone new. I also like that Tenar/Ged is endgame; I got Vibes from The Tombs of Atuan, but neither character was in a position where it would work. Seeing them form a romantic relationship much later in life is touching and cute. But it’s not the reason that either of them grow as people; finding one’s purpose is something one has to do on their own. Their relationship only develops once both parties have done so.

My main complaint about A Wizard of Earthsea, the first book, is the sexism inherent in the setting, which is never examined below the surface level. Perhaps Le Guin’s outlook changed, or perhaps the publishing environment did, because often Tehanu reads like a response to this criticism. The central theme of the book is misogyny, the patriarchy, and its debilitating effects on women. Le Guin examines everything from micro-aggressions (“common wisdom” that happens to paint women as inferior) to domestic issues (“women’s work” and how much that actually is) to outright sexual assault (both in threats and actual acts; it is heavily implied this is part of the abuse Therru endured). She even goes into how powerful women are only considered as such because a man gave them that power.

While I appreciate the fact she addresses these issues in such a frank, blatant way, at times reading Tehanu felt like reading a basic feminism primer. These subjects are all things I’m familiar with, and I feel like anyone who’s studied key feminist ideas would be aware of them also. Maybe 1990 was different? Le Guin doesn’t add any insights to the bleak reality of patriarchy and sexism, which is a little disappointing compared to previous books. That being said, this book is aimed at young adults despite its dark subject matter. Tehanu could be the first exposure to these ideas that many children receive; looking at it that way, it makes sense that the analysis comes off as basic.

I also found the book’s examination of gender to be very cishet-normative. That’s definitely not surprising, considering the book was published in 1990, but to a 2021 reader this hasn’t aged super well. There’s a lot of discussion about the relationships and differences between men and women--whether there are any or not, how magic differs between them, the ability to bear children, and so on. There’s a weird sexual component to this, like how wizards (who are exclusively men) have to remain celibate in order to… keep being wizards? But women who are witches don’t have to do that, and that’s an advantage women have? (There’s mentions of male witches too, iirc, but it’s not expanded upon— do they have to remain celibate? Who knows.). I found this whole bit pretty odd and unnecessary, although I realize a lot of my perspective on the matter comes from a modern view of sex and gender (and, y’know, being trans). Not all the gender takes in the book are bad, but they are limited.

I found Le Guin’s exploration of trauma and ableism through Therru to be more interesting. There’s a lot of examination about how society treats Therru, a survivor of unspeakable abuse. Her trauma is visible due to severe burns along part of her body, leaving her with a missing eye and disfigured hand. Tenar spends much of the novel wondering what future Therru has; no matter how capable she is and how much she acts like any other little girl, strangers gawk at her, or assume she “deserved” what happened to her. Therru becomes happier and more independent over the course of the novel, but relapses into a traumatized state when she encounters one of her abusers. As a survivor, it’s heartbreaking and distressingly realistic. As much as I like Tenar, I almost wish the novel was from Therru’s perspective (other than the brief jump at the end), but I realize it would spoil the ending.

I’m torn on the ending because, while I thought it was cool and had some interesting revelations, it’s a jarring tonal shift. As I mentioned, Tehanu is a slow novel with a heavy focus on everyday life, and the trials and tribulations both Tenar and Therru experience. There’s even a climactic event a few chapters before the end; the only thing left is a persistent loose thread from earlier in the novel. That subplot explodes to the forefront a bare chapter and a half before the end of the book, and a lot of action-y fantasy stuff happens. It doesn’t come out of nowhere; it’s set up throughout the novel, but it is sudden.

That being said, I do like that the subplot with dragons vs humans is hinted at as early as The Tombs of Atuan. When Tenar tells the legend about the origin of dragons early in the story, my mind immediately went to that one room from the Labyrinth with the sad winged humanoids painted on its walls. I’m curious if there are hints elsewhere in the series. I also figured out Therru’s true name and how she relates to that subplot based on context clues. While it’s not a shocking twist, it is a satisfying one. Though parts of it gave me a “magical destiny” vibe which is counter to much of the series so far; I do wonder how the last two books will address this. (Also… did Le Guin imply Kalessin is Segoy? AKA God? What did she mean by this. So Ged literally like… hitched a ride from God, who promptly yeeted out of the story until the end? That’s kind of funny. Maybe I misinterpreted something.)

I probably sound critical of this book, but I did genuinely enjoy it. It just didn’t speak to me the way the previous two did. The next book is a short story collection before the conclusion to the series, so we’ll see where it goes! Tehanu set some stuff up that I expect will be expanded upon in these volumes.

#8/10 #taylor reads #2021 reading challenge

14 notes · View notes

introvertguide · 3 years

Text

A Clockwork Orange (1971); AFI #70

The current movie under review is a well known but not often watched work from Stanley Kubrick, A Clockwork Orange (1971). It is one of the best known acting performances of Malcolm McDowell and it occurred very early on in his career. It turns out that McDowell plays a very good crazy. The movie was nominated for many of the major awards at the Oscars (Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Editing) but didn’t win any because it went against The French Connection and Kubrick’s movie was so filled with explicit rape scenes that it was originally rated X. I am not one to judge a director’s vision, but it seems like the movie would have done a lot better without all the weird rape scenes. There is a lot of very beautiful cinematography as well, which makes the juxtaposition to the sex and violence all the more jarring. Let’s go over the plot and I will keep track of the violence:

SPOILER WARNING!!! THIS MOVIE PLOT IS ABOUT TO BE COMPLETELY SPOILED SO DON’T READ AHEAD UNTIL YOU HAVE SEEN IT ON YOUR OWN!!! UNLESS, OF COURSE, YOU WANT TO BE ABLE TO KNOW AND REFERENCE THE MOVIE WITHOUT DEALING WITH ALL THE RAPE. IN THAT CASE, GO AHEAD AND READ AWAY!!!

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

In a futuristic Britain, Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) is the leader of a gang of minions he calls "droogs": Georgie, Dim and Pete. One night, after getting intoxicated on drug-laden "milk-plus", they engage in an evening of "ultra-violence", which includes a fight with a rival gang who are busy raping a girl (weird sexual assault #1 and violence #1). They drive to the country home of writer Frank Alexander and trick his wife into letting them inside. They beat Alexander to the point of crippling him, and Alex rapes Alexander's wife while singing "Singin' in the Rain" (weird sexual assault #2 and violence #2; this scene was cut down in the US to get an R rating). The next day, while truant from school, Alex is approached by his probation officer, PR Deltoid, who is aware of Alex's activities and cautions him. He does it at Alex’s house while on his bed and Alex is just in his underwear and Deltoid socks Alex in the nuts. Alex goes out that day and meets two girls and brings them home to have fast forward sex with them simultaneously (weird sex but not assault).

Alex's droogs express discontent with petty crime and want more equality and high-yield thefts, but Alex asserts his authority by attacking them (violence #3). Later, Alex invades the home of a wealthy "cat-lady" and bludgeons her with a phallic sculpture while his droogs remain outside (violence #4). On hearing sirens, Alex tries to flee but Dim smashes a bottle in his face, stunning Alex and leaving him to be arrested. With Alex in custody, Deltoid gloats that the cat-lady died, making Alex a murderer. He is sentenced to fourteen years in prison. His entry into the prison is shown in painful detail including a strip search for drugs. This includes a guard checking Alex’s butthole for drugs (which was cut down for an R rating in the US).

Two years into the sentence, Alex eagerly takes up an offer to be a test subject for the Minister of the Interior's new Ludovico technique, an experimental aversion therapy for rehabilitating criminals within two weeks. Alex is strapped to a chair, his eyes are clamped open and he is injected with drugs. He is then forced to watch films of sex and violence (weird sexual assault #3 and violence #5), some of which are accompanied by the music of his favorite composer, Ludwig van Beethoven. Alex becomes nauseated by the films and, fearing the technique will make him sick upon hearing Beethoven, begs for an end to the treatment.

Two weeks later, the Minister demonstrates Alex's rehabilitation to a gathering of officials. Alex is unable to fight back against an actor who taunts and attacks him (violence #6) and becomes ill wanting sex with a topless woman (attempted sexual assault?). The prison chaplain complains that Alex has been robbed of his free will; however, the Minister asserts that the Ludovico technique will cut crime and alleviate crowding in prisons.

Alex is released from jail, only to find that the police have sold his possessions as compensation to his victims and his parents have let out his room. Alex encounters an elderly vagrant whom he attacked years earlier, and the vagrant and his friends attack him. Alex is saved by two policemen but is shocked to find they are his former droogs Dim and Georgie. They drive him to the countryside, beat him up, and nearly drown him before abandoning him (violence #7). Alex barely makes it to the doorstep of a nearby home before collapsing.

Alex wakes up to find himself in the home of Mr. Alexander, who is now confined to a wheelchair. Alexander does not recognize Alex from the previous attack but knows of Alex and the Ludovico technique from the newspapers. He sees Alex as a political weapon and prepares to present him to his colleagues. While bathing, Alex breaks into "Singin' in the Rain", causing Alexander to realize that Alex was the person who assaulted his wife and him. With help from his colleagues, Alexander drugs Alex and locks him in an upstairs bedroom. He then plays Beethoven's Ninth Symphony loudly from the floor below. Unable to withstand the sickening pain, Alex attempts suicide by jumping out the window.

Alex wakes up in a hospital with broken bones. While being given a series of psychological tests, he finds that he no longer has aversions to violence and sex. The Minister arrives and apologizes to Alex. He offers to take care of Alex and get him a job in return for his co-operation with his election campaign and public relations counter offensive. As a sign of good will, the Minister brings in a stereo system playing Beethoven's Ninth. Alex then contemplates violence and has vivid thoughts of having sex with a woman in front of an approving crowd (weird sex), and thinks to himself, "I was cured, all right!"

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

The book did not have as much of a downbeat ending as the film. There was a final chapter that explained that Alex had actually become cured and wasn’t obsessed with sex and violence. This final chapter was actually added after the book was published for American audiences and Kubrick, who lived in London, was unaware of it and didn’t include this in his movie. Upon being made aware of the new ending, he did not like it and ignored it completely. I think this was probably the right idea because it would have been a lot less memorable if it would have had a nice happy ending.

I find it interesting that the AFI has claimed this movie for America when it is clearly British. The movie is based on a well known British novel from a well known British author who was speaking out against American psychologists who were promoting behaviorism and cognitive behavioral therapy. The movie is set and filmed completely in London, England with an all British cast. The movie is also filled with artwork from famous British artists that were popular in 60s swinging London. The only claim America has is that it was not banned under the relatively new MPAA ratings, it was only heavily restricted with an X rating. England, however, stopped showing the movie because of the backlash from the religious right and the film was not available in the UK from 1973 to 1999.

I watched the unrated version with commentary by Malcolm McDowell and his insight made for a much more interesting watch. It became apparent that Kubrick did not care much about the safety of his actors. The director had a hard time getting the actresses being raped to exude the fear he wanted since they were impowered British art students and were legitimately having fun. Kubrick did not want fun, he wanted realistic assault and trauma, dragging out these scenes with dozens of takes. Malcolm McDowell was physically injured when his character was assaulted on stage during the Ludovico demonstration. He was also afraid for his safety when he was being drowned by his former droogs. Finally, McDowell’s cornea was scratched when they were wedged open for the conditioning scene and the actor was temporarily blinded for weeks.

It seems like I am being harsh on this movie and that I don’t like it, but I find it fascinating to the point that I have seen it a dozen times. The use of the false eyelashes on the top and bottom of only one eye gives Alex this look of having two sides. The use of blocking to show the allegiances of characters towards and against each other is directing along the lines of Orson Welles. The use of the music diegetically throughout that causes Alex’s condition is truly creative. McDowell was a great choice for the lead because his face is so expressive. I have not seen a better “happy angry” face with the exception of maybe Jack Nicolson. In so many ways, it truly is a great movie.

One reason for so many viewings is that I have seen this in some of my psychology courses, specifically in cognitive and behavioral classes. The whole Ludovico technique is supposed to malign the work of Watson and Skinner as reducing the reason behind one’s actions down to the environment, removing the idea of free will. When using behavioral therapy, do we just alter the stimulus and response so that a person has no choice but to obey? If so, is that taking away their freedom of choice thus making them less human? If a person simply chooses to be bad, is it their right to do so and they must face those consequences without outside influence forcing them to change? All very good questions that are brought up by this movie.

So does this film belong on the AFI top 100? I am going to say no. It is a British film in every way except for the director, so much so that this movie is ranked by the BFI. It was rejected in the UK for a long period of time while it became somewhat of a cult classic in the US, but this doesn’t make it an American film. It is worthy based on quality, but is disqualified by location. So would I recommend it? Well...no. I like the film and it is fascinating at a psychological level, but it is a lot of art for art’s sake without consideration for humanity. The message is horrifically bleak and the movie is very uncomfortable to watch at times, and most viewers don’t want to be challenged in that way. If you want a movie that will purposefully offend you and test your sensibilities, then give it a try. If you want a fun or funny movie with a happy ending, then this is most definitely not the movie for you.

#Stanley Kubrick #a clockwork orange #british film #academy award nominated #malcolm mcdowell #afi top 100 #psychology #behaviorism #introvert #introverts

25 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years

Text

Descent Pt. 3

Oh hai. I finally managed to get this chapter out and I hate every word of it. I’m so so sorry if it’s not great or what you’re looking for. Feel free to let me know if you liked it or if it’s as garbage as I think it is. Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Pairing: Simeon x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 6,300 ish Tags: Sex toys, smut, awkward conversations about sex Summary: Simeon is running out of ways to ask you over. In a last ditch attempt, he puts his pride on the line to have the conversation he's been dreading.

Slip

Simeon was running out of excuses to call you over for help. The first time was a serendipitous discovery. The second happened out of necessity. But now that he had the video recording, he was convinced that you would think he didn’t need your help anymore. At least, that was what he told himself. Still, he kept coming up with reasons why he might need you to help him again. If his book was to be successful, he needed all the inspiration he could get.

He couldn’t sleep, he stopped eating proper meals in his mad search for the right materials to work off of. It was all a distraction from the truth. He was willingly falling into your trap of temptation and was doing nothing about it. No matter how many times he wrote it off what he was doing as research or investigation for the sake of his book; there was no denying the fact that he was slipping down into a darkness that he couldn’t save himself from.

The first time he had a taste of you was all it took for him to spiral down a rabbit hole of finding more ways to get you to moan in his presence. He wanted to feel your heat again, he wanted to see you come undone; but he needed to hide behind some reason. He needed more time with you; and he wracked his brain on the daily to figure out how. Of course, seeing you wasn’t the hard part, the most difficult issue was convincing you to keep ‘helping’ his cause. That step would come soon enough; but first, he had to find reason to see you again.

Luckily for him, he kept track of the most arbitrary reasons to celebrate and called for you once more. Perhaps this time, he could persuade you to make it a regular thing. An author was always in need of a muse; and no one else was more suited to the job than you were.

[SMS: COME SPEND THE WEEKEND HERE???! WE CAN CELEBRATE YOUR WORK ANNIVERSARY!!!??]

You laughed when you received the message in the morning. With how busy he kept you with all his drafts and proposals, it was rather shocking just how much time had passed since he was assigned to you. Years had passed and you figured he would have forgotten about the first day you sat down with him to discuss the direction of his work. However, he always made it a big deal about celebrating your tenure with him. It was endearing and you could never pass up the chance to spend some time with him that didn’t involve work.

[SMS: Okay! Let me pack an overnight bag!]

You contemplated what to bring. Part of you eyed the cutest sets of lingerie you owned. Oh come on, like he’d think about you like that. You chided yourself while stuffing some pajamas into your bag. However, the subject matter of his new book came to your mind and you ended up carefully tucking them into the corner of your overnight bag. Just in case… it’ll be good for research.

Even if it was just for a weekend getaway, your overnight bag ended up being crammed full of all sorts of things you thought would be good ‘just in case.’ Why you thought it would be necessary to bring an extra pair of shoes was beyond you. The two of you were most likely going to just spend the whole weekend indoors watching terrible movies and tearing apart the scripts and critiquing the dialog.

A small part of you hoped he would use the weekend for ‘research’ purposes. Just thinking about how intense his eyes were when he ‘helped’ you out the last time you were over had you feeling uncomfortably warm from head to toe. On the off chance that he requested something else from you, you needed to at least be prepared to oblige. Even if his intentions for the weekend were innocent, you needed to be ready for a change of plans. He had been throwing you off guard quite a bit; first with his new book ideas, and now his research methods, he was as unpredictable as the first day you met him all those years ago.

Throwing caution to the wind, you crammed in the tallest pair of platform heels you owned into the bag. At least they were black and would match with anything, especially the lingerie you had chosen. Double checking to make sure you had gotten all the essentials, you threw the bag over your shoulder and made your way over to Simeon’s place.

If there was one thing Simeon couldn’t stand was not being able to convey what he imagined in his head onto a page. With all the literary experience he had; it shouldn’t have been so hard to write something salacious and naughty. He knew the importance of proper research and threw himself head first into finding out all he could. He lost track of the number of times he watched the video of you on his phone. At this point, he practically had it memorized; he knew the exact moment in the recording that you came, calling his name. Every time he thought about it, it sent shivers down his spine. Any other videos he sought didn’t have the same effect as your pretty voice lilting and echoing in his room. No other sources worked in helping him write outside of what you provided him.

If he was going to be truthful to himself, he knew there was no return from the dark path he was going down. But he deluded himself into thinking he was safe. As long as he could upkeep his promise to keep you unsullied, he would come out of this trial unscathed. As it was so far, things progressed easily enough but, he knew he would need your help again. There was an intimacy that was missing in his words. Something just didn’t flow properly and he wouldn’t be able to figure it out what it was until he got to experience things first hand. The only problem was saving himself from falling in the process.

He could only ask for forgiveness if he went too far.

Though the tone of his message had been innocent, he had plans to turn the weekend into a productive one. The only problem was trying to figure out how to tell you what he needed out of you. He felt filthy no matter how many times he showered, his mind marred by the image of your shuddering body. His fingers could still feel your walls clenching around him and the warmth of your body surrounding him. He wanted it. He wanted to experience it all for himself; but to keep both you and him safe, he had to find a way around the most sinful act according to the Celestial doctrines.

The knock at his door brought him out of his reverie and he was faced with reality. For the time being, it was easy to play the host and let you relax. “Rush hour wasn’t too bad?” He asked as you took off your shoes and stepped into the guest slippers at the front door.

“It’s a Friday and everyone is eager to go home after a work week, you tell me how crowded the trains were.” You teased.

He took your bag from you to stow away and he was surprised at how heavy it was. “I said it was just for the weekend, it feels like you packed for a month here.”

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up a bit. “Well, I just wanted to make sure I was prepared for anything that might happen.” You shrugged, leaving the interpretation of your words up in the air.

Simeon distracted himself from the lewd thoughts your words brought on while he put your bag to the side. “I already ordered some pizza for dinner. It should be here in a little bit so make yourself comfortable.”

You lost no time in making your way over to his living room, flopping on the spacious couch there and sprawling out. “Comfort achieved.” You announced, which earned you a soft chuckle from Simeon. Even though the basis of your relationship with him was work; it didn’t stop the two of you from becoming friends. He simply had such a soothing aura around him, it was easy to let your guard down and be yourself. Without having to worry about work for the weekend, it was even easier for you to just pretend it was a sleepover with a friend.

He came over and joined you on the couch, a mug of tea in his hand and part of his manuscript in another hand. You perked up when you saw the pages with your notes on them. “Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a weekend to celebrate a work anniversary. I didn’t plan on partying by watching you rewrite the first half of your book for the seventh time.”

He chuckled, putting down the stack of papers on the coffee table in front and leaned back to regard you. “So, what do you suggest we do to celebrate then?”

“Anything but work.” You determined. “I don’t know, board games? Movie? Arts and crafts?”

Simeon laughed; it was a sound you could never get enough of. It was so melodic and soothing, you wanted to keep him entertained for the rest of your life. But you had to remember to remain professional. There was no way he thought of you as anything more than a friend or a close co-worker. You were in charge of caring for him and making sure his work got to the publishing house on time; outside of that, things needed to remain casual.

“Well, dinner comes first.” He said, getting up as the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of food. He disappeared briefly before returning with a small stack of pizza boxes. It was way more than two people could eat in one sitting; but that was par for the course on how Simeon tended to order whenever you were asked to stay over.

While dining upon the finest pizza the city had to offer and sipping on soda, you thought over the years you had spent with Simeon and how much he had grown on you. At first, he was exactly what you expected a high profile author to be like. He was cool, aloof and distant. His work was impeccable, but even the best in the field made mistakes and you made sure he knew about them prior to publication. He always held you at arms length, with respect and appreciation, but made sure to never step past the boundaries of professionalism.

Over time, he warmed up to you more, inviting you over to work on editing while he continued to write his manuscripts. Something about having real-time feedback seemed to help get his creative juices flowing. You also ended up benefiting from it as you were able to edit and get changes back faster than waiting for replies to your email. With how technologically challenged Simeon could be, you often had to wait days, if not weeks, to get a small update. Still, the barrier of professionalism never changed. The two of you simply worked well together and created a sturdy friendship based on work.

Despite that, you couldn’t help but slowly fall for him. It was easy to do so, he was handsome, gentle, considerate; everything you could have asked for in a partner. Being so intimately involved in his career meant you likely knew a lot more about him than many people did. A few years passed and you struggled to hide the feelings you had for him. Every time he asked something of you, it was easy to jump on the chance to see him smile, hear his laugh and maybe receive a bit of praise outside of something related to writing. You managed pretty well, considering how dense Simeon could be; it didn’t seem like he had any idea of what you were hiding from him and the polite respect you gave each other was maintained.

The distinct civility you two had only changed with his new book. After the first time, you had convinced yourself that it was all a fluke. A one time occurrence, never to be repeated. The second time, you prayed that your heart wouldn’t guide your actions and do something you would regret. You could still vividly remember just how bright his eyes were when he was knuckle deep in you and making you cum with no effort at all.

“Are… you alright?” Simeon’s voice cut through your thoughts and you were quickly wrenched back into reality with a half eaten slice of pizza drooping and getting cold in your hand.

“Oh? Yeah. Just thinking about how long I’ve been working for you.” You explained with a bit of a shrug.

“It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?” He concurred, regarding you over his mug of tea, sipping it carefully and trying to parse out your odd mannerisms. It wasn’t the first time he had asked you to spend the weekend over to celebrate a mundane weekend which held no meaning to anyone but himself and you. It was the first time he had ever hidden his true intentions from you and he wondered if you could feel his guilt from where you sat. When you went back to eating, commenting about the quality of the toppings on the pizza, he relaxed a bit. “I wouldn’t be where I am without your help. So, I really should thank you for the time you’ve been with you.”

There was unfortunately nowhere to hide your face from the blush you felt creeping up your neck from your neck. “Well, I’m always happy to help, back then, now, and in the future.” You reassured him. “Gotta make sure we keep your reputation intact, right?”

There it was, the opening he was hoping for. He took the sliver of a chance you had given him and ran with it. Mulling over his words before he spoke, Simeon took a sip of his tea and let the silence settle between you. “You’d help me? Even with this… project of mine being as unreasonable as it has been?”

You understood his reservations in regards to being helped. He was so cute fumbling over his words and his requests. If he just wants me to come over every week to watch me fuck myself, he can say so. You smiled and sipped your soda, waiting for him to push the issue at hand again. When he didn’t go any further, you decided to step up and bring up the topic for yourself. “I’m serious about helping you in any way I can. You’re working on something you’ve never done before, it only makes sense that you get as much uhm… research in as you can…” Your words trailed off at the end and you wondered if you had said too much.

“Really?” Simeon tried to hide his excitement. “So you wouldn’t mind if I asked you to… You know...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish what he was saying. It was too embarrassing to admit he needed help as it was; to tell you out loud that he required more source material for his work seemed to be too much for his poor brain to handle.

You decided to voice his desires for him. “You need me to come over and give you some scene ideas?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.

“I… Yes. That.” He sighed in resignation. “I already have the scenes planned, it’s just the details I don’t have a feel for, so I need some more, you know, that stuff to get an idea of how it’s supposed to be written.”

You couldn’t help but let out a coo of endearment. He was just so cute being all fidgety in his seat and twiddling his fingers together, it was impossible for you to deny him. “Well, if we want to keep our jobs, then helping you with some scenes should be the easy part. You’re the one who has to write them out.”

“You’re really sure?” He breathed, his eyes wide in shock that it had been so easy to convince you. “I might need you more than once. Maybe… We can make this weekend thing a thing?” He suggested shyly.

“Anything you want.” You confirmed.

It was as if a switch had been turned on him, the excitement and the relief that he had gotten permission to research as much as he wanted changed him into a completely different man. You barely had time to move out of the way before he shoved the coffee table in the middle of the room to the side and pulled out a trunk he had hidden in a corner.

“So, I got a couple of things in the last week that I think might help. You said it would be easier if you used toys, so I looked a few of them up and picked out some things that either seemed interesting or if they’d help you. I don’t know what you like, but hopefully you’ll find something in here that will suit your needs.” He babbled happily, explaining everything he had done since the last time you had been at his home and you were rather taken aback at the sheer amount of things he had acquired in such a short time.

“Oh God,” you breathed, when you looked at the veritable collection he had amassed so quickly. It was rather mind blowing just how invested he had become in such a short time. Then again, you should have expected him to give whatever he was writing his all. This though, was a bit much, even for the lengths you were used to seeing him go through.

He could almost laugh at the irony of the phrase. He was sure God had long left his home with how dangerously close he was to falling away from grace. After you agreed to his request, he couldn’t care any less about the free fall straight to Hell. He was getting what he wanted.

“I need to know how these work.” He said, reaching over to put on a pair of glasses and picked up a notebook. “If you could be so kind to allow me to ah… experiment.”

“Are you sure this is all for your novel?” You raised an eyebrow, suspicious that it was all truly for scientific purposes and it wasn’t for personal use.

Simeon faltered a bit before he nodded, his lips set in a thin line of determination and his gaze bounce back and forth between you and the pile of toys. “If I’m going to have enough variety in the scenes to span a whole book, I’m going to need to as much information as possible.” He flipped to a blank page of his notebook, titling it with the date and looked at you expectantly. It was frightening just how clinical he was being with the whole situation.

“You know, you have to go through some of it too...” You countered, you weren’t about to go through a series of sexual tests without conducting a few of your own on him. “You were having problems with the partner last time, right? We can’t have those kinds of issues pop up again.”

He blinked several times, processing what you had to say. You could see his will falter a bit before he went right back into the zone he was in just moments ago. He nodded, mumbling to himself and concurring to your points. “This is true… I’ll have to make sure that the scenario balance is equal. I need to manage that somehow. Perhaps if I recorded like I did last time…”

You giggled, surprised at how straightforward he was being and stepped closer to him, pushing his hair away from his face; an action that broke his concentration and he had to look at you face-to-face. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.” You purred. “You just have to remember what happens.” Taking the notebook and pen from him, you pushed him back onto the couch and straddled him, keeping him in place. “You can keep the glasses though, they’re a nice touch.”

Despite your confidence, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your ears rang and you could barely believe this was happening. You had only ever fantasized about being this sort of intimate with Simeon. When he had pushed you away the last time, you were sure he didn’t see you as desirable. And it was about to happen again. He kept you at arms length, pushing you back when you moved to kiss him. “I… No. I can’t like this with you. Anything but you know...”

You sighed, peeling yourself off his thighs and sat next to him. “Okay, I don’t know. And you’re sending me mixed signals; so let’s get these things out of the way so we don’t get things mixed up in the future.” You declared, putting your foot down. You weren’t about to have him bait and switch on you again. “I’m assuming sticking your dick in me isn’t something you’re really into doing.”

You watched Simeon fidget while he pointedly avoided your gaze. He nodded, unable to speak. It would be the closest thing you would get out of him as confirmation. Still, it did leave a few things up in the air which you needed to clarify. “So, you know I’ve got three perfectly serviceable holes. Is it all three or just one?”

He was in the middle of sipping his tea and nearly choked when you asked him. Fumbling to regain his composure he cleared his throat before answering you. You could tell he never expected to have a conversation like this; but it was necessary to know just how far he would go. “Just… I cannot defile you...”

You laughed at how innocent his words were. Even if you knew what he meant, his words still had multiple meanings and without clarity, you weren’t about to continue. Reaching out and patting his hair softly, you tried a different method. “Okay, how about this. Am I allowed to blow you?”

A pause, he still refused to speak up, but at least he gave you a nod to let you know that was alright. Good, we’re getting somewhere. “Okay, are you okay with putting your dick in my ass?”

You could tell how differently he felt when it came to discussing his own sex life outside of the one he was writing. He covered the lower part of his face with his hand, rubbing his chin as he seemed to have an internal war with himself. The silence between the two of you dragged on before he finally gave you his nod of approval. “Got it… So, I know what your answer is probably going to be, but I still need to ask. Are you willing to put your dick in my pussy?”

Something broke in him at the question. He vehemently shook his head, shutting his eyes and refusing to look at you, or anything else for that matter. “No. No. No. Anything but that. I can’t. I can’t do that.”

You put your hand on his shoulder, rubbing him gently to bring him back to reality. “Okay, okay, we won’t go that far. At least I know now.” You murmured, keeping your voice low to not startle him into a further panic. “I promise we won’t do that.”

At your reassurance, he heaved a sigh of relief, as if he had been saved from something terrifying. You kept your hand on his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles there until he came back to reality. “I’ll tell you if we go too far… we can have a code word.” He suggested. “I read about it, people call it a safe word.”

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. At least he knows the basics. It’s just a matter of figuring out the rest for him. “So, what do you want to use?”

“Christopher Peugeot.” He deadpanned.

You laughed, using his pen name wasn’t something you expected, but you knew how he detested you calling him that; so it would definitely work in the event things went too far. You hoped you didn’t ever have to use it, but it was a necessary step. “Okay, now that we have all that settled, what did you want to try out on me today?” You gestured over to the trunk full of toys. “I’m sure you’ve got a few things you’re dying to try out.”

The boyish enthusiasm he had before when explaining his collection came back and he got up, rustling around, pulling out a full assortment of toys. You gulped, blinking at some of them and wondered just where he had gotten them. “So… care to tell me how this is all going to fit into a story about a spy?” You asked.

“Well, the main character has to pretend to be married; but she also has feelings for someone else that she works for… and she might also have escapades with her boss… And so she’s with several people and each one of them is different so you know, I have to make sure I get their personalities correct.”

You nodded, trying to put your mind into the main character he wrote. Pretending to work a high risk job while having a wild sex life definitely was quite the departure from the high fantasy setting he was so used to. It really was no wonder he was floundering so hard. It truly was a good thing he was such a talented author; you weren’t sure anyone else could have pulled off the switch like he had.

While he prepared everything he wanted to use for the evening, you eyed what he had chosen and was rather intrigued by the array of toys in his possession. It was only natural that you got rather excited with his experiment, even if it was a rather clinical approach. You would need to change that later.

Simeon laid everything out neatly, taking notes and mumbling to himself. There was something that was so innately sexy about his focus that made made you more wet than the prospect of how many toys he was going to try on you. You waited patiently while he took all the notes he needed. Even if it was going to be a wild night, it was truly supposed to be ‘research’ in the end. “Okay. I think I’m ready.” He announced after arranging and rearranging the order of the toys he set aside.

“Good, I thought I was going to fall asleep with how long you were taking. Where would you like me? I’m all yours.” You gave him a wink and a sly grin, making him stutter a bit. He gestured to the floor space he had cleared up. Hastily, he grabbed a nearby throw to make it a bit more comfortable than the decorative rug he had there.

“Here is fine.” He mumbled and waited for you to get comfortable. You grabbed a few of the pillows from the couches to join the pile of soft things and awaited his next commands.

He stumbled like a newborn fawn, trying to calculate and recalculate the scene he had in his mind to figure out where it was going. Eventually, you got tired of his anxious mumbling and pulled him by the collar to join you on the floor. As soon as he was close enough, you took control of the situation and kissed him. Simeon let out a surprised squeak, at first struggling against the sudden break away from his plans; however, you could almost hear the gears of his mind whirring and clicking as he melted into your arms and started kissing you back.

“So, if we’re going to do this, can you at least pretend to like me a little?” You asked after breaking the kiss. “Helps with the whole getting into the role thing.”

Truthfully, you wanted to have an excuse to kiss him. Simeon at least didn’t seem to have any objections to your demands. He swooped in for another kiss, his hands lacing behind your head and into your hair. His lips were just as soft as you had always imagined them to be. His body heat so close to yours was just as comforting as you had dreamed of. The way he kissed you took your breath away and left you confused as to whether or not he was as innocent as he made himself out to be. Not like you really had time to parse those thoughts out when his lips and hands were all over you, making you dizzy with need.

He smelled like fresh laundry and lemon dish soap. He was everything soft and good in the world wrapped into one sinful package that you had the privilege to unwrap one layer at a time. You could have spent hours kissing him if you could. Eventually, he found himself on top of you, helping you out of your clothes and marveling at how much of a different experience it was when he was properly involved. The irises of his bright blue eyes were blown wide open as he took in every detail of your body. He was awestruck, removing layer after layer of clothing until you were in nothing but your lacy underthings.

It was entirely unfair. One moment you were fully clothed, the next, you were in your unspeakables and Simeon still hadn’t shed a single piece of clothing yet. He was so focused on you and how you reacted, he had completely forgotten about himself. He paused to look at you all sprawled out underneath him on his floor in his home. It was quite a sight and it was the perfect opportunity for you to slip your hand under the over-sized sweater he wore and peel it off of him with one swift motion.

Finally, you were blessed with the image of him shirtless. It was everything you had hoped it would be. His lean body was surprisingly toned for someone who spent his life writing books for a living. There wasn’t a single blemish on his skin and you lost no time in running your hands across his smooth skin. “Beautiful...” you breathed, smiling softly at him.

Simeon quickly found out that the fastest way to get you to stop making him so flustered was to kiss you senseless. His hands did work in taking off the last pieces of clothing you had on. By the time he finally broke away from another heated make out session, you were completely nude and ready for whatever he wanted to test out on you. He kept his lips on you, peppering your jaw and your neck with kisses and soft nibbles when he reached to the side and grabbed the first toy in the line of many.

His hand slipped between the two of you and you felt the cool tip of the toy slide up and down your wet slit. In those moments, he was so focused on your reactions, you got lost in the intensity of his stare. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. Even if it wasn’t too warm in the room, the heat between the two of you was absolutely sweltering. You were light headed from the kisses and the chance to finally be with Simeon in such a way. Even if it was all a farce, you were going to take whatever he gave you. At least you would have plenty of material to keep you company on the nights you didn’t get to spend with him.

It was so much better to have Simeon involved. There seemed to be so much more than you doing a favor for the man you worked with. There was a tension, a charge as he held something back from you. You couldn’t place your finger on what it was; but it didn’t matter. All you had to do was accept the toy he was pushing into you. You expected something bigger than his fingers the last time, but you weren’t prepared to be stretched open so suddenly by a larger than average toy. You gasped, arching your back to adjust around it a bit better.

“Are you okay, little lamb?” He asked softly, concern in his eyes as he searched your face for any signs of discomfort. With his glasses slipping down his nose, it was the most endearing sight you had ever seen before.

Little lamb. He had never used pet names with you before. Just that little bit of affection was all you needed to get over the uncomfortable feeling of having the intrusion of the toy being pushed into you with little warning. “I’m fine… You can keep going.” You reassured, rolling your hips towards him.

Looking down, you could see strained his pants had become and you felt rather guilty for being the only one on the receiving end of the whole exchange. However, the moment he started to move the toy in and out of you, your mind went blank and you could only focus on yourself. You knew he could see just how stretched out you were around the phallic device. He could see just how wet you were from making out with him and just how undone you could become when you were around him.

The wet sounds of the toy entering you over and over filled the room and your breathy sighs turned into moans. You clutched at the throw beneath you as you let him use your body for his gain. You’d deal with making sure he got his own just desserts later; for now, all you cared about was pretending the toy inside of you was actually Simeon’s cock.

He was relentless, having calculated just what he needed to do days before you had come over. He knew what he wanted out of your body and he was going to coax it all out of you. The sound of your moans mingling with the lewd wet noises that came from your pussy was an absolutely intoxicating combination and he had a growing problem in his pants that he would need to take care of soon. But, that could wait; the most important part of his research was right in front of him and that needed his utmost attention.

He tucked way the image of your writhing body for later. The scent of your arousal was filed away for later and the feel of your soft skin brushing against his hands as he worked the toy in and out of you was etched into his memory. He didn’t need to record anything this time around, not when the image was so vivid and he was participating so directly with it. It was all he ever dreamed about. There was nothing better than feeling and seeing the scene for himself.

Even if his cock ached for release and his body screamed for him to do something about his own growing arousal, he was only ever focused on how close you were to cumming. The pitch of your moans changed and the way your body squirmed changed when you were getting close to that moment when the dams of pleasure broke. “Eyes on me, Little Lamb. I want to see your face when you cum...” He commanded.

You were powerless to deny him. Your eyes had been screwed shut since he started to vigorously thrust the toy into you cracked open only to see his free hand holding yet another toy. You heard it hum to life and as you started to comprehend what he was about to do, your whole body was set aflame in an onslaught of sensations as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive clit.

You screamed, your whole body convulsing as he simultaneously shoved the toy as far as it would go into you, filling your hole. You wanted to look away, ashamed at how wantonly your body was reacting under his ministrations. But his command remained firm in your mind and you forced yourself to look at him as you came undone, screaming his name and shuddering at the force of your orgasm.

There was a hunger in his eyes you never saw before. A primal energy that made you terrified of what he was capable of. Yet, the part that craved him and the company he gave overpowered that and you were thrown into a high of pleasure you hadn’t ever experienced. You couldn’t catch your breath as he was relentless in his trials. As soon as the brunt of your orgasm was over, he tossed the vibrator to the side, pulled the toy out of you and bent down to kiss your deeply.

“You did so well, Little Lamb...” he purred, once again assuming the image of a sex god you saw briefly before. “But I’m far from satisfied with just one trial.”

You mind went blank as you realized the night had only begun. You saw the array of ‘tests’ he had lined up and you knew you weren’t going to get much sleep at all. “Well, don’t let me get in the way of your experiments.”

The way the light caught his glasses when he pulled away made him look a hint maniacal. There was the barest trace of a smirk that played at the corner of his lips when he wrote a few quick notes in his little notebook. Once he was done, he picked up another pair of toys and assessed your still trembling body.

“I hope you’re ready, Little lamb… I’ve only just begun.”

Somehow, you had unknowingly unleashed a demon from within him.

#Obey me #obey me simeon #Obey me fanfiction #Obey Me AU #Simeon x Reader #My Writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #I absolutely hated writing this and I'm pretty sure it shows #Hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is

130 notes · View notes

roseskiesandbutterflies · 3 years

Text

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26

Ask or comment to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s) or series. Full list is in my bio.

Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

************

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

************

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

*************

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

#good omens #good omens headcanon #good omens fic #good omens imagine #crowley #crowley headcanon #crowley imagine #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale headcanon #Ineffable Husbands

5 notes · View notes

bookendbookbegin · 4 years

Text

Book Review: “To Kill a Kingdom” by Alexandra Christo

(Contains spoilers)

What does it take to kill a kingdom? Violence, destruction, death? Or simply open-mindedness, and a belief that people can change?

In her novel, To Kill a Kingdom, Alexandra Christo poses these inquiries to her readers, making us question our morality and ethics, and understand that hate is the antithesis of progress.

Lira is a siren, daughter of the Sea Queen, and destined to one day sit on the ocean throne. Elian is a prince, the heir to the kingdom of Midas, condemned (as he would say) to be a king on land when he feels such a strong pull from the sea. They are enemies, as Lira pursues princes’ hearts, and Elian believes siren hunting is his true purpose. One mistake made by Lira sets off a chain of events that consequently links their two futures, taking them on a quest around the globe in order to find a way to end their two species’ antediluvian conflict.

I love rereading books, because you know what you are getting from the beginning. There is no wondering whether or not the book will impress you, or live up to its marketing image. I first read To Kill a Kingdom when it was published in 2018, and I think I like it even more now on my second read-through. By and large, the first time you read a book, you read for the plot. The second time (and so forth) exposes you more and more to the intricacies of the writing itself. I was certainly more attune to Christo’s descriptive writing this time; so much depth was added to the narrative as a result of her beautiful use of literary devices. There were these lines that could have been drawn from poetry, adding such an elegant flare to the prose. The sarcastic dialogue and witty banter were no less entertaining – I found myself still laughing!

To Kill a Kingdom is a dark young adult fantasy, addressing topics such as genocide and whether or not it is ever justifiable. Elian believes it is his destiny to rid the world of sirens. He has resigned himself to the extinction of an entire race purely because it benefits his own. This idea of his does eventually dissipate, for he realizes that violence is not a solution, and an outcome is not always vindicated by the methods employed to achieve it. Subject matter such as this is heavy. Why did Elian ever consider slaughter to be an acceptable trajectory? Why does the Sea Queen continually commend cruelty? It is very much this subject of genocide that makes readers question our ethics, question our decency. And with all that is happening today, these are important points to ponder.

The internal conflict we feel as readers is mirrored by the characters. As aforementioned, Elian struggles with his murderous tendencies, and so does Lira. These characters are far from perfect, and that is what makes them remarkably singular. Their worlds may seem black and white, but they exist in gray areas, unique among those with whom they surround themselves. This is evident in their individual, internal conflicts. I loved – and still love – that Elian and Lira accept each other’s positive and negative traits; they drive one another to be the best version of themselves. The rapport built between the two throughout the course of their travels, of both friendship and romance, is what finally allowed for the resolution of the war, and with both sides needing to sacrifice very little.

Regarding Elian and Lira’s romantic relationship, I was quite pleased by its gradual progression. For there to have been an immediate affinity between the two would have greatly detracted from my enjoyment of the novel as a whole. Despite Elian’s ignorance of Lira’s true identity, she knows him in the beginning to be an enemy. An attraction then would have been forced and unnatural. Owing to inconsistencies in pacing, there are points where the romance does appear manufactured, but this does not make it (overall) any less believable. Readers know it to be genuine. I fully understood Elian’s attraction to and fondness for Lira on page 235: “I laugh and consider what smart comment I could make…but then Lira’s eyes quiver back and there doesn’t seem to be much point in being funny if she isn’t the one to hear it.” In that moment, Elian’s internal musings hold nothing back – it is clear to us readers that he is absolutely enamored of her.

I greatly enjoyed the switching perspectives between Lira and Elian because I was able to understand and hear the internal thoughts of the two leads. This technique allows for better character formation and development, and for readers to more effectively connect with individual persons. As a female, I particularly appreciate a male perspective.

Now, transitioning away from romance and into villainy…the Sea Queen was a highly effective antagonist. While Elian may despise the Princes’ Bain (Lira), he also knows that she really only acts on behalf of the Sea Queen, and therefore hates them equally. Though the Sea Queen may be Lira’s mother, she is ruthless, berating Lira constantly for having emotions and not being as merciless as herself. She is well-founded villain because she forces Lira to confront all of her suppressed emotions, enabling her to mature and become a more sympathetic character. Additionally, the Sea Queen’s depravity is what unites the humans and sirens, for they realize they have a mutual enemy.

The final chapter is best described as an epilogue. I found myself simultaneously content and dissatisfied – quite the odd combination. Perhaps I simply did not wish for the novel to end, and isn’t that the truth! Elian’s narration sufficiently summarizes the aftereffects of the battle with the Sea Queen and how the world has since changed. Christo leaves us with this idea that, at times, personal desire must bow to duty, yet there is always a means by which to satiate both.

Seafaring, fantasy novels have consistently been favorites of mine, and given this circumstance, it is no wonder why I was so drawn to and fascinated by To Kill a Kingdom. Should fantasy novels that center upon adventures on the high seas be of interest to you, this is a work I fervently recommend.

Rating: 4.5/5

Read To Kill a Kingdom? Tell me: What were your thoughts?

#book review #book recommendations #to kill a kingdom #alexandra christo #reading #books #novels #fantasy #fiction

14 notes · View notes

green-valkyrie · 4 years

Text

Untapped Abilities

Untapped Abilities-- Chapter Loki Fic.

Loki x Reader

Since your ex left, you’ve given all your attention to your career. The hard work you had put in earned you a major promotion. Your friend and you decide to go out for the night. She has hopes that you will meet someone to at least take you home for the night, maybe more.... you just want to get drunk. After all, being a college professor is a lot of work.

Chapter 1: New Things

The last month and a half has been busy for you at work. Honestly, your carrier as a theologian has been quite dry. There aren’t many new things to be discovered and many of the new theories that get published are typically discredited. Still, the stories that you’ve read a thousand times still excite you. The tales of love and woe excite you; and to be quite honest set the bar for any men in your life too high for any mortal to meet. You’ve always been enamored with Mythology in every culture from Chinese to Greek, but the one that you hold closest to your heart is Norse. Because of your extensive knowledge on the subject, you were selected to steam-head the curriculum for the new Theology degree course being offered at the college next semester. Of course, you would be teaching and heading the department, hiring professors, writing curriculum, etc. Working late has become the new normal for you; but not tonight. You have some serious plans for tonight. You need to get out. You haven’t been out with your friends since your ex left.

Setting up your new office takes most of the day. It is nearly four and you were expected to meet your friends at 7.

“Let’s get some computer work done.” You say to yourself. “Then I am leaving. Definitely.”

You have such a hard time breaking your focus from your work. You are the youngest college professor in the area and the youngest in the world to design a curriculum for any school. That wasn’t what kept you working so late, however. You were writing the curriculum for the Norse classes.

****

The keys on your computer clack rhythmically to the pace of your writing. Of course you had lost track of time. “Shit.” you mutter quickly gathering your stuff. You did this so often, you wonder why your friends even put up with you in the first place. You rush through the doorway of your office only to be greeted by your closest friend.

“I knew you’d still be here. Don’t worry. I brought you this.” She hands you a short black dress with emerald embellishments across the cleavage area, replacing fabric and a pair of thin black stilettos. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you. You know what, I do. I’d be a loner who reads fantasy all day.” you say as you grab the dress and spin around heading back into your office to change. “You already do that.” Your friend snickers as she follows you into your office. “Promise me something, please.”

Here it comes again. Meet someone, it’s been too long since you and the giant asshole broke up. It would do you some good.

You can’t help but mock those words in your head, as you’ve heard them a thousand times. Or, perhaps those words were true. It has been so long since you’ve felt the touch of anything other than your own fingers, or silicone.

“Yeah, I know… meet someone… get out there. Try to find the fire again. Just because you went through a bad breakup doesn’t mean you have to be alone forever.” I sigh, zipping the dress up my side. “If you can introduce me to Loki…. That’d be great.”

Your friend sighs heavily. “Oh, come on! Loki is a fairy tale and you know it. Besides, why in the whole world would you pin the trickster god as your ideal mate?”

“Because he is most written about. His accounts range from being a trickster, a helper, a friend, an enemy. He had encounters with every god in Asgard. I’ve read about him so many times, I feel as if I know him.” You pause for a minute, remembering that Loki is just a myth and no mere man could ever be as cunning, mischievous, sinister and honest. “The few accounts on what he looks like might hint to him being the most beautiful god to ever exist, too.” you wink at your friend as she rolls her eyes. “Lets go, you goof.” She takes your hand and rushes out the door. Trailing behind her, you pray to the gods you know aren’t listening. Please, help me find someone to try with again. Someone like you, Loki.

****

“Brother, this is it! We are long overdue for a trip to Midgard.” Loki says as he pushes the doors to the great hall open. “I’ve been called upon.”

Thor looks at his brother in disbelief. “Called upon? Brother, no one calls us from Midgard any longer.”

“Ah, needn’t you worry, Brother. It is true. I heard a voice. Calling me to help find love.” Loki extends his arms at his sides and bows slightly, not removing his gaze from his brother.

“No.” says Thor. “You are not the god of love, brother, you are the god of tricks. You must be mistaken” Loki purses his lips in frustration. “I know that, but this human spoke my name. I heard it just as I hear you now.” Loki’s eyes fixed on Thor’s with burning intensity. He doesn’t know why, but he has to answer the call. Even if it isn’t specifically meant for him.

“Let us go then, brother.” Thor places his hand on Loki’s shoulder. He worries his brother has actually lost his mind this time. “I could use a night out myself. One with you at my side will be filled with mischief.”

****

The music at the club is radiating in your chest as you dance with your friend in the middle of a crowd, drink in hand and hair flipping to the beat of your movements. You are hot and sweating. Maybe this urge is enough to satisfy the cravings for a different physical activity. As the song ends you and your friend step outside for some much needed fresh air. The crisp air feels good on your flushed cheeks. Your friend lights a cigarette. “Did you see anyone in there who looked like they might be in need of an all night history lesson?” She nudges you, playfully. A smile forms between your lips. “No. I haven’t been looking. I have been focusing on my dance moves. Moving my hips might attract a man worth my time.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Your friend sighs, looking around her. She stops moving and grabs you by the arm. “Major hotties 12 O’ Clock.” Your eyes wander over to two men approaching the club entrance. The beauty of these men is astounding. Never before have you seen men look the way these two did. One man has shoulder length blonde hair, bright eyes and a chiseled physique. He is dressed in stone washed jeans and a tight fitting shirt. This man is handsome, but the other with him was more your type.

More like exactly your type.

His pale skin almost glows in the light and his dark hair matches the night sky. Their swagger is confident and almost regal. He is dressed in tight fitting black slacks and a black button up shirt. Both men are taller than the other men they pass by. Time feels as if it slows. The closer he comes to you the harder it is for you to look away. Soon, his pale blue eyes lock on yours. You can feel the heat in your cheeks return. There was heat building between your legs, too. The man offers you a crooked smirk and he walks by you, never breaking his eyes from yours.

Holy. Shit.

Your friend looks at you with a smile. “You showed interest in him. You absolutely cannot hide that.” She throws her half finished cigarette away. “We are going back inside to snag us some hunks.”

Once inside, you see the men at the bar waiting to be served. Your friend grabs your hand pulling you toward the empty space at the counter next to them. Slipping a hand at your back, she pushes you next to the dark haired man and takes her place next to the blonde. “Hey, there.” Your friend shouts over the music placing a delicate hand on the blonde man’s bicep. “We’ve never seen you here before? Are you from around here?”

Your friend knows exactly what buttons to push to get a man to crave her. You on the other hand, not so much. You look up at the dark haired man noticing his eyes are fixed on you with Interest. Your cheeks get hotter. “Hi, uh, sorry. My friend is quite bold.” You offer your hand and give your name. The man’s expression fades from attraction to amusement. He takes your hand and touches your fingers to his lips. “Great beauty is bold.” His ice blue eyes peirce yours. Your lips part to talk again, but you quickly retract… not sure how to carry on the conversation.

You peek at your friend, who is naturally chatting up the blonde man. You have to have her teach you how to not be awkward.

Staring at you still, the dark haired man leans his face close to yours. Your eyes meet again. “Would you like to dance?”

You? Dancing with him? Grinding your body against his tight black pants? Absolutely.

You smile and head towards the dance floor, not sure what has come over you, grabbing his arm. He spins around with a smile on his face to follow you. He gives a quick glance to the man who came with him and winks. You and the man reach an empty spot in the sea of people. You realize you left your drink on the bar, but you don’t care. Both of your hands are free and you feel the unstoppable urge to touch this man. Your hands reach out for his hips and you pull yourself closer to him, matching his movements. He is much taller than you, but you feel a slight twinge against your lower abdomen.

Is that… what I think it is? You think to yourself, still matching his pace. My god he is hot… no… sexy. I wonder what is under there… your thoughts are interrupted by his thin although muscular arm wrapping around your waist, pulling your bottom half closer to his. You bite your lip and grind harder against the man, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

You have to take this man home.

Rhythmically, you work your hands up his sides to his chest and then you touch his neck, breathing in his beauty. His gaze moves from the ceiling to you. His eyes look dark and mysterious in the low light of the club, but you can tell he is looking right at you. The arm that is around your waist moves to your ass, and the other soon follows.

Normally you don’t tolerate this sort of behavior, but you can’t stop him. You don’t want to stop him. You feel both hands squeeze on your ass. Biting your lip, you push your backside into his hands, inviting him to continue. He leans close to your face. “Your dress is ravishing. My favorite colors.” Through the darkness you see the man’s white teeth revealed through a devilish grin. Your heart stops for a beat. Fuck.

The music pumps on and you start grinding against him harder, in sync with the beat. This is so out of character for you. Maybe the cause for your actions is an untapped libido, or perhaps that this is the first man you’ve seen since your ex that you’re attracted to. You’re more than attracted to this man, is almost as if you tapped into your animalistic side. The music ends, but the two of you are still locked in the same position. His lips are incredibly close to your face. You didn’t notice that until now, when he spoke. “You, my dear, are an impeccable dancer. However, would you care to step outside to chat for a moment?” you nod your head and remove your hands from his body. Your hands want to betray your brain and touch him more. Your hands want to rip his clothes off, actually, and feel the skin that lies beneath his clothing. You surprise yourself with the thoughts in your mind.

His hands slide back on your waist, he drops one to his side as he ushers you from the building. “I need to let my friend know that I am stepping outside. We have this deal. If we can’t see each other we call.” you say to him as you exit the venue.

“She is enjoying herself, also” He remarks. “ In fact, he seems to be quite pleased with your friend. I’m sure they will both be joining us outside here in a moment or two.”

The two of you walk farther away from the crowd outside the door and stop to lean against the building. “I never got your name.” you say to the man. A smug grin appears on his face as his eyes scan your body. “Sweet darling, my name is not important right now. I am eager to know about you. You look as if you could use some fun. Tell me.”

You pause for a moment. Heat fills your cheeks once more. Could this be an answered prayer? No. That isn’t possible. The only thing that heard your prayer is you. The gods aren’t real. They never were, people used mythology to explain the things they didn’t understand. This is too good to be true though. Just as you start to speak, your friend and the blonde appear.

“Brother, you were right.” The blonde man exclaims. “We were long overdue for this trip.” Your friend smiles and puts her arm around you. “The two of you seem to have hit it off.” She says pointing her finger and the dark haired man. “Gentlemen, A club is no place for conversation. We have plenty of refreshments back at our place. It's just a couple of blocks from here, we could walk.” She smiles and returns to the blonde man’s side, slipping her arm through his. You feel those cold eyes on you again. As you look up to meet them, the dark haired man leans closer to you, almost touching your ear with his lips “I would be delighted to see your house.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #tom hiddleston #loki romance #loki smut

19 notes · View notes

actualbird · 4 years

Text

HELLO EVERYBODY!!! for the @dghdafeedbackfest i will be publishing a rec list every other day!! to kick things off, this first rec list is fics that are loooooooong and so so so worth the time to read. i would kill to have these fics in hardbound novel form. “long” for me is defined as anything above 50k, so let’s get this ball rolling!!

Cheer Up, Buttercup by @teacupsandcyanide

“Oh, listen to Dirk. He’s a bathing goods psychic.” “I am not a psychic. I simply don’t always concern myself with such petty things as employee protocol and company script. I see the solution to each customer’s needs as being detectable in the pattern and web of the whole. The connections between bathing rituals and physical-mental health are often much more subtle and complex than we, with our rough and ready understanding of cocoa butter, might naturally suppose.”

Todd goes into a bath bomb store to get a present for Amanda and meets an overeager sales assistant. Self-examination, and - dare I say it - romance ensues.

Words: 103,775. ohhhh my god okay. okay i followed this fic from the first chapter and waiting for each and every chapter was the HIGHLIGHT OF MY WEEK!! this fic has everything you want in an AU!! dirk works at a bath bomb store, todd goes through the difficult process of learning how to forgive himself, effervescent flirting, EMOTIONS, SO MANY EMOTIONS, SLOWBURN, OH GOD, IF YOU WANT FUCKING SLOWBURN and just!! AAAAGGGHHHH!!! I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH, PLEASE PLEASE READ IT.

Strange Magic by @dont-offend-the-bees

“Seriously?” he mutters, offering his arm.

“But of course,” says Dirk, looping the silk around it, just above the elbow. “It’s traditional, is it not? A favour for my faithful knight.” He ties the fabric off with a secure but sloppy bow, patting it down proudly. “There we go! For good luck.”

Then he takes a hold of both Theodore’s arms and pulls him firmly, decisively, into a kiss that takes his breath away.

“And that,” says Dirk afterwards, with the gentlest peck to Theodore’s nose. “Is to make sure you come back to me.”

With the freedom to indulge his every whim, the love (or at least toleration) of his subjects, and the affections of the loyal Sir Brotz, it seems the sun shines down upon the its prince’s fortunes. But that's about to change, an ill-wind blowing in the form of a tournament to decide his future husband. No more childish abandon, no more adventure. And perhaps most importantly, no more canoodling with his favourite elfin knight. Desperate times like this call for a quest; but will they find a solution, or just more questions they never thought to ask?

In which Dirk is a prince, Todd is his knight, and it may well be the two of them against the whole of Wendimoor.

Words: 118,478. this fic, in one word, is a masterpiece. never before have i been so engrossed in reading a work of fiction in such a long time, but this fic made me feel like i was 12 and reading about magic for the first time in my life. whimsical, heartfelt, and gorgeously written, i truly think this fic is just mcfucking amazing in all of the ways a fic possibly could be.

I Will Roam if You Say Roam by Lavellington

"My old landlord wrote to me yesterday, and apparently I need to go and pick up my things or he'll throw them in a skip."

"A what?" Todd asks, sitting down heavily on the sofa.

Dirk and Todd go to London.

Words: 72,810. dare i say a fandom classic? this fic is DELIGHTFUL. in addition to being one of my favorite long reads (that i love to reread and reread over and over again....) this is one of my favorite casefics too because it is just so FUN to watch it unfold!!! def rec this to everybody.

Universal Truths by inkyfishes

“...Very long story short, until yesterday, it hailed as my greatest case: one of deception, danger, double-crosses, and an all-round perversion of high emotion and - dare I say it - romance…”

What do horses, robots, time-travel, false identities, alternate universes, flagrant homosexuality and the University of Cambridge have in common? Probably not much, but it's all Todd Brotzman has to work with after he falls through a hole in space and time, arriving at St. Cedd’s College for the first day of Svlad Cjelli (not yet notoriously known as Dirk Gently). There's a case to be solved, but it refuses to start. For both Todd and Svlad, and Dirk and Farah, events unfold in exactly the way you'd expect at Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency.

(This work is canon-compliant as per the end of Season 1. It refers to canon set out in the two Dirk Gently novels, the Dirk Gently 2010 TV Series, the Dirk Gently Comics "The Salmon of Doubt" and the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, but none of that is needed to understand the work.)

Words: 70,274. SPEAKING OF CASEFICS. THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CASEFICS TOO. this i think was the one of the first few fics i read in this fandom and i was blown away by how masterfully everything was constructed. this fic feels most like the dirk gently books and because of that i adored it. came for the case, stayed for the feels and the amazing writing.

I'll make my way back home (to find me tangled up with you.) by electricteatime / @kieren-fucking-walker

“Lanterns.” Dirk breathes, a giddy rush of hope welling up in his chest. “I knew they weren’t stars!”

***

Dirk Gently dreams of one thing, and one thing only; seeing the mysterious lights that rise in the sky once a year. The problem with that is that he’s never left his room before, much less his tower, and with every warning his father has given him he’s not sure he can bring himself to do it alone.

Which is exactly when Todd Brotzman crashes into his life. Or, rather, the business end of his frying pan.

What do a regretful criminal and a boy with magical glowing hair have in common? Not a lot, it turns out. But as they embark on a journey that promises to fulfill their dreams, somewhere along the way they’ll realise that all of the things they’d been looking for mean nothing compared to what they eventually find together.

Featuring a full cast of cameos, a glowing yellow jacket, and Farah Black weilding a sword, it’s a Tangled AU that nobody asked for (but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.)

Words: 61,677. THIS IS A TANGLED AU.....A BROTZLY TANGLED AU.....this fic came straight out of my dreams and DELIVERED. gorgeous worldbuilding, amazing characterization, and overall just an glorious fic that i had to reread immediately after i finished reading it the first time.

thats all for now, stay tuned for more rec lists in the upcoming days!! if you like a fic, please dont forget to show your support by giving a comment or perhaps reblogging the post of a fic. happy reading :D

#dghda #dirk gentlys holistic detective agency #fic #i havent commented on a bunch of these but these recs are also for me to remember SJFHKDJFS

52 notes · View notes

writerunsolved · 5 years

Text

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 7

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 7/?

Summary: You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: Quick PSA: I’d noticed getting fewer notes than usual on the last two chapters. I later found out that Tumblr has killed internal links too, which means that my updates supposedly didn’t show up in searches. For this reason, starting today, I have to stop linking to my previous and next chapters. To make extra sure you don’t miss any updates, you can also subscribe to this fic on AO3.

Seen the situation, your reblogs are more important than ever! Remember to support your favourite creators on Tumblr by reblogging rather than liking their posts, it is the only way their work can get around and reach a wider audience! Thank you in advance for reading!

Previous chapters can be found on this blog.

Chapter Seven - Just As Sweet As Coffee And With The Same Aftertaste

When you’d gotten home after the dinner, you had just as mechanically divested and put on your pyjamas. Only once you’d laid down on your bed to sleep, had the weight of what had happened finally dawned upon your mind and quickly become a thought to worry about.

In the safety of your bedroom and under the cover of darkness, as well as the more literal duvet that the cold weather had started requiring, your brain had once again begun spinning out of your control providing you with ever new anxieties. You had soon started examining your behaviour during the whole evening, considering the way you’d eaten, laughed, drunk, the subjects you’d decided to talk about, and every single reaction you’d elicited from Tom. But the one thought that had kept circling back throughout your meticulous examination had been that of the almost-kiss you had almost-shared.

Right then, an unbearable feeling of embarrassment had burned inside you like a sudden stab, and you had immediately felt the shame that came with presuming that none of it had been reciprocated. Once the belief that you had forced yourself on poor, polite Tom had taken root in your head, sleep had seemed like a distant memory you had no idea how to chase, nor grasp.

At some point, you had lost any sense of the time passing, so much that only the vibration of your phone on the nightstand had finally made you realise how late it had gotten. When you’d hurriedly snatched it to check who it was, desperate for any kind of distraction from your own train of thought, the single text you had received had been enough to put your mind at ease and make you decide that it was time to try and sleep.

“I had a wonderful night,” it had read, “I look forward to next time.”

You hadn’t answered right then, only seen that it was almost 2 AM and turned around with a smile on your face, determined to rest.

When you finally did wake up, you were drowsy enough that the memory of the previous night wasn’t the first thought in your mind. You checked your phone and saw that it was almost 11 AM, panic shot through you for just a second before you remembered that it was Sunday and you had no work, so you relaxed back into the mattress with a sigh.

You instinctively reached for your phone, mostly to check if you had any new texts, not yet remembering that you still had one from Tom to answer. When you took it in your hand, his notification was still there, hitting you with a mix of undefined emotions.

“Hi, and good morning :) I also had a great time, we should meet again soon," you sent him in response. Then, in another text, you added, “If work allows, of course.”

You wondered just for a moment if it sounded like you were making excuses not to meet again, but your worry was instantly alleviated by him replying “I’ll definitely let you know when I’m free again, and I hope you’ll do the same.” You agreed and for the rest of the day you texted back and forth like you’d been doing for a while now, and the normalcy of it kept your preoccupations about the night before at bay.

The next few days passed in much the same fashion, with the exception of going back to work on Monday. You were distracted enough with new interviews and finally some meetings to determine when and where your upcoming concert tour would take place, that you barely had time to dwell on your anxieties again.

They had certainly faded from your mind that Wednesday when you were having lunch with Nina at a small place on the same street as the label building.

You were sitting down at a sleek square table, lunch in front of you, and slowly picking at the food while Nina spoke rapidly into her mobile phone. You had no idea what she was talking about, her voice fast enough and low enough that you could only catch a couple of words here and there, like “Liam” and “Be on time” and a whole lot of “No”. You looked distractedly around you, the small restaurant had a cold, minimalistic vibe to it, with polished aluminium tables and chairs. It was the first time you ate there, Nina had been the one to suggest it, you didn’t mind the food but it wasn’t anything special.

A lot of people kept coming and going, only very few opting to sit down in the small space that the restaurant allowed, and most just grabbing paper bags full of food to take away and eat elsewhere. You really didn’t understand the appeal of the place, but you imagined it would certainly be convenient to stop there and pick up a quick meal if you worked in one of the many office buildings of the area.

Your inconsequential thoughts were interrupted by Nina almost slamming the phone down on the tabletop and declaring, “This is why I don’t want interns, they’re only a waste of my time.” She sighed loudly and faced you, shaking off the annoyance of the phone conversation and digging into her lunch with vigour.

“Sorry for that,” she started, carelessly waving her fork around and talking animatedly, “Talking to Liam is like screaming into the wind. He’s always carrying that notepad around and writing everything down, and yet he still calls me for every tiny thing,” she huffed again, “Unbelievable.”

You nodded in sympathy, “I guess it must be hard to keep up with you,” you told her, “Not even I have any idea of the number of things you get done in a single day.”

“Don’t defend him,” she groaned and pointed at you with her fork, you felt mildly threatened, “I know I’m a force to be reckoned with, but if he wants to get anywhere at the label he’s gonna have to learn.”

You replied with a small “Fair enough,” and took another bite of your lunch, Nina did the same.

“This food isn’t all that much,” she commented, “I shouldn’t have trusted Mike, but anyway...” She paused and quickly ate another mouthful or two, then directed her attention at you, “I don’t believe you’ve told me about your dinner the other night.”

Her change of subject surprised you enough that you almost choked on the food you’d just put in your mouth. You started coughing convulsively, barely managing to swallow a crouton before it choked you to death. Nina just looked at you silently, unscrewing the water bottle you were sharing and pouring some of the liquid in your glass. You thanked her with a look and gulped down the water, finally able to breathe normally again.

“Is that a positive or negative answer?” she asked you with a smirk.

You straightened up and gave her a nasty look, “Very funny.”

“It was a little bit funny,” she pushed her thumb and index finger together to show how much, “But mostly it was adorable, I can’t believe how much of a goner you are.”

You spluttered, you were just about to reply when your phone, which had been sitting on the side of your glass, vibrated with a new text alert. You ignored your train of thought in favour of checking the notification but didn’t get any further than seeing that it was from Tom because Nina started laughing. You looked at her, confused by her reaction.

She pointed at the phone you were clutching with the hand still holding her fork, “See, you have no leg to stand on! You literally stopped mid-thought to check if he was sending you a text.”

“I- I wasn’t- I didn’t! I-” you stuttered, trying to find something to defend yourself, “We were just… We were already texting before!” you almost shouted. Then, realising your sudden increase in volume, you cleared your throat and tried again in a much lower voice and a casual shrug, “It would be rude to leave him hanging.”

Nina smiled and rolled her eyes, “Oh, you are just so,” she elongated the word, “Considerate.”

“Well, excuse me,” you rebutted, an exaggeratedly haughty look on your face.

“Go on,” she urged you, “Read it. I know you’re dying to.”

“I’m not dying to,” you muttered but didn’t hesitate to open up the text. For some reason or other, you and Tom had started talking about the cartoons you used to watch as children, you had no idea how you’d gotten to the subject, and he was just following up on the conversation. You shot back a quick answer and put the phone back on the table.

“Anyway,” Nina started again when she saw you were done, “I really do want to know about dinner. Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” she pouted.

“It was just dinner,” you answered, “There isn’t all that much to say, really...”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she nodded, “I can tell you don’t want to talk about it.” You wanted to protest, but she continued in a more serious tone, “Just remember that we’re friends, and whenever you’re ready - and if you feel like you need to - you can talk to me, okay?”

You shook your head gently, “I appreciate it, Nina. But, honestly, you’re making it out to be much bigger than it is.”

“I know you, hon,” she repeated, “And I’m pretty sure you’re stressing about this. But I also know that you need time to think about it by yourself, which is fine,” she insisted, “But don’t feel like you have to keep everything inside because you think we’re gonna judge you or something like that.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed and looked down at the table, nervously picking at the edge with your index finger, “I’m just not sure of the situation, and I don’t feel like I’m ready to share what’s going through my mind yet. I need more time to clear my head is all,” you finally admitted and looked up at Nina. She was smiling kindly.

“It’s okay, hon,” she reassured you, “I’ll still be here later.”

You forced yourself to smile back, trying to show your gratitude, but the feeling of being a bad friend was nagging at you. Something in you wanted to push and make you open up, but your insistence to deny that you were feeling anything at all was much stronger. Sometimes you just wished you could be a better friend to the people supporting you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nina changed the subject swiftly, “The 4 PM meeting on Friday was cancelled, so you can definitely make other plans for the evening. And Monday, too,” she added, “My parents are gonna be in town, so I’m giving you a day off,” she winked.

“Nice!” you commented, then asked her, “How are your parents by the way? It was so lovely meeting them last May.”

“They’re fine,” she waved a hand dismissively, “They’re enjoying retirement in their dreamy French villa, as usual. You should join us for dinner on Monday, they loved meeting you, too. They were smitten by that talentueuse jeune fille,” she said the last sentence in an exaggerated French accent, an imitation of her parents’, “And wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

You laughed. The rest of the meal was spent making plans for the dinner on Monday. After that, you both went back to work. Later in the day, you texted Tom to let him know you would be free on Friday afternoon and asked him if he wanted to get coffee. He accepted enthusiastically and promised to discuss specifics later in the day.

Amidst your hectic working hours, Friday seemed to come in an instant.

You’d heard from Tom again and, in the end, you’d agreed on going to Caffé Piccolo. You’d mentioned their amazing coffee in previous conversations, and he was thrilled to finally get to experience it too.

That day, you managed to leave work exactly at 4 PM. The morning meetings about the tour had been slow-going and full of technical information you couldn’t do much about. In fact, you weren’t sure why your presence had been required at all, but you hadn’t minded too much and Nina had also been there.

You exited the building and looked at the time on your phone. You and Tom had arranged to meet at a quarter to five in front of Caffé Piccolo, which meant that you still had forty-five minutes to get there, it would be more than enough time to make it without being late. You looked up at the sky, thick grey clouds hovered above the rooftops, promising rain. You frowned, hoping that you would make it home before the weather turned for the worse, then walked away toward the tube station.

You made it to the café with a few minutes to spare and no rain on your path. You briefly considered whether to wait for Tom inside, but in the end, opted to stay where you were. Soon enough, you saw him hurrying down the street from the same direction you’d come, straight from the metro.

When he reached you, you could see that he was wind-swept and that he’d probably ran to make it in time. His hair was in complete disarray and his coat was unbuttoned, showing that he was wearing a soft navy-blue sweater underneath.

“Hi!” he greeted you cheerfully, a huge smile on his lips. He passed a hand through his hair, trying to slide it back in place, but it did very little. “Sorry, I’m late.”

You smiled back, “Oh, don’t worry, you’re not late,” you reassured him, “I got here a bit early, but you’re perfectly on time”.

He touched your shoulder gently and said, “It’s good to see you again,” then, he hugged you tightly.

You felt just as off guard as the first time you’d hugged. You guessed it would take a while before you would get used to it. You obviously didn’t hate it, but you had trouble letting yourself go, though you did try. By the time you separated, you’d even managed to reciprocate the hug.

“So this is the legendary Caffé Piccolo,” he said, looking behind you at the small door, “Did I say it right?”

“I’m not one to judge,” you joked, “But be reassured that if you say it wrong inside, they won’t hesitate to correct you.” He laughed, you added, “And I’m not sure about legendary, but their coffee is certifiably extraordinary.”

“I was excited to try it before, but now I can’t wait one more second. Shall we go in?” he asked, extending a hand towards the door.

You nodded and turned around to make your way inside, keeping the door open for Tom who followed you in and thanked you. You let the door close behind him and looked around, searching for an empty table. You couldn’t see Andrea, at his place at the cash register was his mother Santuzza, who immediately saw you enter and welcomed you with a huge smile.

“Andrea! Vieni un attimo alla cassa! ” she shouted toward the back, from which Andrea appeared. He quickly took his mother’s place at the cash register so Santuzza could make her way towards you, open arms ready to squeeze you. “Gioia mia, it’s so nice to see you!”, she spoke with a thick accent and her smile still in place. As soon as she reached you, she threw her arms around you and crushed you into the sweetest hug she could manage.

“Mrs Fusco, I’m happy to see you, too,” you told her when she let you go. You massaged your left side carefully, she had pushed so tightly around you, that you couldn’t help but jam your own elbow into the side of your ribs. You could see Andrea behind her punching in one of the costumers’ order, he raised his eyes from the cash register and spotted you looking back. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand and went back to his task.

“Oh, please, tesoro mio, call me Santuzza. How many times do I have to tell you?” she chastised you, then asked, “What are you doing here, goia?”

“I brought a friend to try your magnificent coffee,” you replied, gesturing towards Tom, who was watching the exchange with a tiny smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Fusco,” he told Santuzza, then introduced himself, “I’m Tom, I’ve heard amazing things about your establishment.” He extended his hand, and when Santuzza did the same, he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. You could immediately see how flattered the gesture had made her and covered your mouth to hide the impressed grin that had bloomed on your lips.

“Oh my,” Santuzza almost blushed, “What a charming young man you have there,” she turned to you, “Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto.”

You laughed slightly, sure that the compliment had made Tom bashful, but not of what Santuzza had told you with her last sentence.

“Enjoy the coffee,” she told you both and went back to her place at the cash register, pushing Andrea back towards the kitchen in the back.

“You speak Italian?” Tom asked you while you made your way to one of the small tables next to the large window that overlooked the front of the store.

You took off your coat and draped it on the back of your chair before sitting down, Tom did the same. “Not really,” you told him, “I’m not sure what she said, to be honest, I only understand the pet names because she uses them so much.”

“I see,” he replied, “She was calling you ‘love’, and ‘joy’, and ‘treasure’. I can understand a little Italian, but not enough to know what she told you, I’m afraid,” he explained.

“That’s impressive!” you commented, widening your eyes, “You should teach me what you know sometime.”

“Why not,” he smiled, then changed the subject, “I assume you come here a lot, you seem very close with the owner.”

“Owners, actually,” you specified, “Santuzza and her husband Giovanni opened the café with their son Andrea.” Tom was listening interestedly. “From what I know, Andrea went to a business university here in London. When he went back to Italy after that, he convinced his parents to move to London too and to open Caffé Piccolo,” you explained, “They already had a small place back in Italy, and he believed they could really get somewhere with their coffee specialities.”

Tom looked around, almost every other table in the room was occupied, and there were several people waiting in line for their coffee at the counter. “I think he might have had the right idea,” he joked, referring to the small crowd.

You chuckled. “I know I amped up their coffee a lot,” you emphasised the last two words, “But I swear I wasn’t lying.”

Before Tom could answer, Andrea had reemerged from the back of the café and was approaching your table. “Bellezza, it’s been a while,” he greeted you. He looked around and towards the entrance before continuing, “No Nina today?”

“Hey, Andrea,” you greeted him with a smile, “Nope, no Nina.” He sighed in relief. “I brought a new friend today.”

At that, Andrea noticed Tom, who was sitting cross-legged in front of you with a small smirk, and gulped. He spluttered several times before squeaking out, “I didn’t know you were friends with Tom Hiddleston.”

You snickered at Andrea’s loss for words, he was probably mourning Nina’s absence just then.

“Hi, Andrea, nice to meet you,” Tom offered his hand to shake, still smirking and going along with your teasing.

Andrea took it and said, “It’s the same for me, Mr Hiddleston.”

Behind Andrea’s back, you widened your mouth in amused surprise and outrage: Andrea had never been that polite to Nina and you!

“Please, just Tom,” he answered. When their hands separated, Andrea took a step back and looked between you and Tom squaring his shoulders in the semblance of a professional demeanour, and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

You glanced at Tom and asked him, “Would you mind if I ordered for you?”

“Please,” he replied, “Go ahead.”

“Do you like chocolate?” you asked him one last time, and when he nodded you turned to Andrea and finally said, “We’ll have a Marocchino and a Caffé al Ginseng, please.” Andrea, who had taken out a small notepad, wrote the order down and nodded, leaving the two of you and walking back towards the counter.

“I’m kind of curious about what you just ordered,” Tom started, “But I also want to keep the surprise alive,” he joked. You laughed. A beat or two of silence passed before he spoke again, “I was surprised by your text,” he said, “Pleasantly, of course. Did you get a long weekend?”

“No, actually,” you explained, “The afternoon meeting for today was cancelled, and since it was the last appointment for today, I thought I’d let you know and see if you were free too.”

“Well, thank you for that,” he replied, “I was glad you thought of me.”

You blushed, “No problem,” you almost mumbled, smiling shyly. Then asked, “Did you also get a half-day?”

“Unfortunately not,” he lifted the corner of his mouth in a bitter smile, “I was free this morning, but I have a work dinner later tonight.”

“Oh, I see. What time do you need to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied with a brush of his hand, “It’s not until eight.”

You were going to say more when Andrea approached your table again, carrying a round metal tray. He set half of it on the table, keeping the other half up with his hand, and started moving the cups out of it. He set two glasses filled with water on the table, then said, “A Marocchinohere,” and deposited a small plate with a slightly larger than usual espresso cup filled to the brim with a deep brown chocolate and coffee concoction in front of Tom, then a smaller one with what looked like a very weak coffee in front of you, “And a Caffé al Ginseng for you.” You were about to thank him, but he added, “And I brought some Cantuccini. Dad made them this morning, let me know what you think,” and winked at you.

“Thank you, Andrea,” you told him. He nodded, picking up the tray and holding it in front of him, then left with a quick friendly touch to your shoulder.

You looked back at Tom, he was observing Andrea intently, but when he noticed you were looking at him he smiled with a raise of his eyebrows and said, “Shall we?”

You nodded and picked up your cup, he did the same, taking a whiff of the beverage before bringing it to his lips. You took a drink of your coffee and surveyed him from the top of your cup, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally tasted the liquid and, as soon as it touched his tongue, he let out an appreciative moan.

“This is amazing!” he commented, visibly impressed.

You set your already almost empty cup back on the table and reached for the half-moon shaped cookies, taking one. “I’m glad to hear that,” you smiled, then took a bite.

“So I can definitely taste the chocolate and coffee,” he stated, “But how is this made exactly? And what is the one you ordered?”

You swallowed the cookie bite and replied, “I’ve been told Marocchino is not actually coffee, but a separate beverage. Although it is made with coffee and also sweetened milk cream, in addition to dark chocolate, of course.” He nodded in agreement. “And the one I got is made with Ginseng extract and milk, mixed with espresso, which is why it looks like watered down coffee,” you explained, “Would you like to try some?”

“Oh, no, thank you. Maybe next time,” he smiled, then reached for the cookies. You looked at him expectantly, ”Wow! These are incredible,” he exclaimed, “I’ve had Cantucci before, but these are really good.”

“Glad it lived up to your expectations,” you joked.

He laughed then said, “I hope you don’t mind me asking. You said you had a meeting that was cancelled, what would it have been about?”

“It’s totally fine,” you reassured him, “We’ve been in talks about my upcoming world tour for the last few days.”

“That’s amazing! Have you worked out the details yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, “The dates for the European part are more or less all decided,” you explained, “But the American part is still a little foggy. Nina, my manager, was trying to keep them pretty cohesive, but the higher-ups have been saying that they’d rather have me take a break after all the European concerts are done and wait a couple of months before we move the tour to North America.”

He hummed pensively, “That doesn’t seem very intuitive,” he considered, “When are you going to start travelling around for it?”

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and said, “Oh, not until next May, so there’s still a lot of time to argue about specifics,” you joked. “What about you?” you asked him then, “Any new projects in the near future? Something to do with tonight’s dinner?”

“Tonight is actually for some promotional appearances for that voice acting project I told you about before,” he responded, “But I should start on something new in a couple of weeks...”

You spent the next hour talking about work and pleasantly chit-chatting about your personal lives. The atmosphere of the café made you feel at ease more than the restaurant had a few days before. Something about the familiarity of the environment and the repeated experience of going out with Tom helped you relax like you hadn’t quite been able to do the first time you’d eaten together. Tom seemed just as serene in the more low-profile setting. Either way, you barely noticed the time passing by, marked by the arrival of a text from your sister some hour and a half later.

You ignored it at first, unwilling to interrupt the conversation and be impolite, but when more texts kept coming, you had to excuse yourself and check in case of an emergency.

“Ben just broke up with me,” the texts said, “Can I sleep at yours tonight? ” and then, in lack of a response, “I'll be there at seven.”

The surprise and worry must have shown on your face because Tom asked you, “Is everything okay?”

“I am so sorry,” you apologised, putting away your phone, “I really don’t want to cut this short, but my sister just told me she’s coming over to sleep at my house.”

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” you replied, “Something with her boyfriend. I’m honestly so sorry,” you insisted.

“Oh, no, please, it’s okay,” he reassured you, “It’s almost time I get going, too. Let me use the restroom first and then we can go, okay?”

You nodded. He quickly left the table, so you started gathering your things, putting on your coat and taking out your wallet from your bag. When he came back, you waited for him to do the same and told him, “I’m gonna go ahead and pay.”

He hesitated, then told you with a guilty look, “I already did that.” You were about to protest, but he continued, with a conciliatory smile, “I promise I’ll let you pay next time.” You didn’t believe him, but you dropped the issue with a small shake of your head and a playful roll of your eyes.

Soon enough, you walked out of the café, waving goodbye to Andrea at the counter. You couldn’t see his mom anymore so you mouthed, “Say bye to your parents for me.” Andrea nodded and went back to work, and you finally left.

Before leaving, you and Tom stopped on the curb in front of the café to say bye. “I would have liked to stay a little longer,” you told him, “I’m really sorry.”

“Please, don’t apologise anymore,” he said, looking intensely into your eyes. He leaned a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I’m sure we can meet again soon,” he continued, unconsciously playing with the lapel of your coat.

You smiled timidly, “I hope so too,” you told him, “I had a great time, good luck with dinner.”

“Thanks,” he responded, “Let me know if something serious happened with your sister and if I can do anything, okay?” You nodded, he dropped his hand from your shoulder, “I’ll see you soon,” he said finally and turned away with a small wave.

You waved back and turned around, walking in the opposite direction, on the path to your house. When you got there, your sister was waiting in front of the main door, huddled onto herself like she was cold and looking dejected. When she saw you approaching, she ran towards you and buried her head in your neck, expecting a hug. You squeezed her and tenderly caressed her hair back. When you separated, her eyes were wet with tears. “Let’s get you inside,” you told her softly, and took out the keys to the entrance.

Translation of French and Italian dialogue: - talentueuse jeune fille = talented young lady - Vieni un attimo alla cassa! = Come to the register for a bit! - Gioia mia / gioia, tesoro mio, Bellezza = My joy / joy, my treasure, Beautiful - Mi raccomando, amore mio, tienitelo bello stretto. = Make sure to hang onto him hard, my love.

Chapter 8 coming soon

@honeybournehippy @namelesslosers @unlikelytigerqueen @effielumiere @theoneanna

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #reader x tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x you #fanfiction #reader tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston reader #tom hiddleston fandom

47 notes · View notes

bombardthehq · 5 years

Text

Patriarcha

by Robert Filmer

published 1680 (written by 1640), read 15/09/19 - ???

Filmer was, by all accounts, the most popular and influential political theorist in England in the 17th century. The seminal works of many major contributors to the political theory of that century - particularly Locke - were responses to Patriarcha. But he is not read today, really by anyone. He was the principle theorist of a tendency which would, by the next century, no longer exist anywhere: of absolutism, and in particular, that Kings ruled by divine right. Most courses of political science or political philosophy in universities do not even mention Filmer: the only reading list that I found him on was an infographic originating from /pol/ which was structured from most socially acceptable (things like Hayek and Burke) to least (things like Hitler and Kaczynski): under the section ‘Reactionary Right’, Patriarcha appears at the very bottom.

I began reading out of curiosity but it became clear that it was both a relatively complex text and one that is both downstream and upstream of things important to us: thinkers like Tacitus and Machiavelli, and the theory of Sovereignity respectively. So, notes. I always say I’ll try to keep my notes brief and never do, how about this time I promise to be thorough?

Chapter I: That the First Kings were the Fathers of their Families

Filmer opens by talking about an idea which contemporary political theorists believed in, which is that humans are “naturally endowed and born” with “freedom from subjection”, and that forms of rule only have power over them because they give them that power.

Often Hobbes and Rousseau are contrasted on a certain point about human nature: Hobbes believed that civilization was a necessary imposition because of the disastrous anarchy of man’s natural condition, while Rousseau believed (something like) man’s natural condition being good and peaceful and civilization creating problems, although he still affirmed the necessity of civilization in some sense. Anyway, both of these thinkers were later than Filmer, and both take as their beginning the very point that Filmer notes here, which Rousseau makes when he writes that “man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.”

Filmer says that this is a new idea, and not something originating from the bible or the early church fathers, and hints that it was devised by the Jesuits!

He gives a logical conclusion to the idea: that if the people gave the Prince his power, they can take it away. He considers this a dangerous idea.

In fact, Filmer rejects the very idea that Kings are subject to the laws of their country, and when other theorists (he names ‘Buchanan’ and ‘Parsons’ - two names I’ve never heard) criticize the sovereign for breaking the law he considers it an error.

Equality is mentioned (just like that!) in connection to natural liberty, when he mentions their position as “the natural liberty and equality of mankind.”

Anyway, he comes around to saying, its time someone takes this seditious idea of natural liberty to task! (An early appearance of the ‘say what you’re going to say in the introduction’, by the way!)

Filmer enumerates a number of ‘cautions’ he’s giving himself for the discourse.

First he spends a paragraph going over how it isnt for him, nor anyone else, to pry or meddle into the affairs of the state, “the profound secrets of government”, which he refers to as arcana imperii. “An implicite Faith is given to the meanest Artificer in his own Craft,” he writes - true enough! - and so even more faith ought be given to the sovereign, who is “hourly versed in managing Publique Affairs.”

Arcana imperii (literally ‘mysterious power’, more semantically ‘state secrets’) is an expression from Tacitus which has gone on to have a certain currency in political theory (see here), apparently appearing as recently as Agamben, and having been appropriated earlier than Filmer, by “Botero and Clapmar” (who?). In Tacitus, arcana denotes secrets which ought to be kept secret.

The end of this paragraph is confusing to me, so I’ll note its location (here). The gist is that people ought to obey the sovereign, and he relates this to “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s...”

In a sentence which goes “...knowledge of those points wherein a Sovereign may Command...”, he has a footnote - attatched to the word may ! - which leads to a paragraph weighing rule and tyranny. For Filmer, a King who rules by his own laws becomes a tyrant, "yet where he sees the Laws Rigorous or Doubtful, he may mitigate and interpret.” I’m going to note the location of this footnote too (here), because it is actualy a very clear and very early exposition of the Non-Derivative Power of sovereignity, and states precisely what Carl Schmitt means by “the leader keeps the law”.

His second caution is that he isn’t going to dispute the “laws or liberties”, only inquire wether they came from Natural Liberty or from “the Grace and bounty of Princes.” Obviously, Filmer will come down on the latter position: that any liberty one has is the benevolant gift of the Sovereign.

He says that the greatest liberty in the world is to live under a monarchy, and that anything else is Slavery, “a liberty only to destroy liberty” - although this whole paragraph is actually plainly an apology for writing a political text, which was surely somewhat dangerous back then, and while this is the official ideology that everyone had to believe (even Rousseau makes the same gestures, framing his dialogues by saying ‘this is all what I would say if I didnt live under a benevolant rulership...’), its actually clearly a bit more extreme than even Filmer is willing to commit to.

His third caution is that he isn’t disparaging the people he criticizes, simply adding on where there are gaps in their thought, and so on. “A Dwarf,” he writes, “sometimes sees what a Giant looks over.” He briefly summarises his idea about the cause of their error: that in order to ensure the authority of the Pope, they placed the People above the King. I’m not sure if thats how Buchanan saw it! Anyway, this is how he explains that the two major factions at the time were the “Royalists” and the “Patriots” - the error, for Filmer, is that people had come to believe that one could be loyal to ones country while traitorous to the King. (True enough - isn’t patriotism always a kind of category error?)

Cautions set aside, he begins the critique proper. He starts by quoting Cardinal Bellarmine (now a saint!), which we’ll reproduce:

Secular or Civil Power is instituted by Men; It is in the People, unless they bestow it on a Prince. This Power is immediately in the whole Multitude, as in the Subject of it; for this Power is in the Divine Law, but the Divine Law hath given this Power to no particular Man— If the Positive Law be taken away, there is left no Reason, why amongst a Multitude (who are Equal) one rather than another should bear Rule over the rest?— Power is given by the Multitude to one man, or to more by the same Law of Nature; for the Commonwealth cannot exercise this Power, therefore it is bound to bestow it upon some One Man, or some Few— It depends upon the Consent of the Multitude to ordain over themselves a King, or Consul, or other Magistrates; and if there be a lawful Cause, the Multitude may change the Kingdom into an Aristocracy or Democracy.

Filmer comments that this is the strongest defence for Natural Liberty that he’s ever seen, and thats why he selects it for critiism: after all, as he said earlier, its usually never a position argued for but simply taken for granted. Filmer now begins a fairly fascinating sequence of deducing things ‘backwards’ from this quote and examining what it presupposes, in a way that very closely reflects the way I approach argument (this is the reason I decided to take notes on this text)

“First,” Filmer writes, “He saith, that by the law of God, Power is immediately in the People”, and therefore the political system that God gave the world is Democracy! because Democracy has no meaning but power belonging to the people. Therefore, not just Aristocracies, but also Monarchies are against God’s will, who rightly gave the people Democracy. (This is a sort of reductio ad absurdum, I think - today it seems quite a natural thing to say!)

We want to object to Filmer here by saying that the Bellarmine does not necessarily refer to Democracy (of course, he explicitly refers to Democracy as something other than the ‘Power and Law of the Multitude’), but its not quite as easy to dismiss as one would think initially. Bellarmine does not argue for a kind of Hobbesian state of nature here, because in Hobbes’ anarchy there are surely no Powers, nor a Law. For Bellarmine, God gave men powers and laws. I would like to look more into what Bellarmine meant by this, that he perhaps thought of a prepolitical power, prelegal law... but there is surely some basis for Filmer equating it with Democracy. That said, it does not necessarily follow that investing those powers and laws in a form of government should be against God’s will.

Second, Filmer says, the only Power that men have in Democracy is to give their power to someone else, and therefore they really do not have any power. (Ho hum!)

“Thirdly,” Filmer writes, Bellarmine says “that if there be a lawful Cause, the Multitude may change the Kingdom.” Filmer asks: who will be the judge of wether something is lawful or not? It would be the Multitude. Filmer considers this “pestilent and dangerous.” (Again, surely quite natural today.)

Now Filmer quotes Bellarmine making what he feels is his only argument for the existence of Natural Liberty. Bellarmine writes: “That God hath given or ordained Power, is evident by Scripture; But God hath given it to no particular Person, because by nature all Men are Equal; therefore he hath given Power to the People or Multitude.”

Filmer now pulls out another quote from Bellarmine to refute the position just quoted, which he is proud as punch about, calling it out right before he does it and also including it in the chapter summary at the beginning (”Bellarmine’s Argument answered out of Bellarmine himself”).

The promised passage goes like this: “If many men had been together created out of the Earth, they all ought to have been Princes over their Posterity.”

Take that, shitlibs! Absolutists: 1 Republicans: 0! See you in hell Milton!

Anyway, Filmer takes this to be true: that Adam, and the succeeding patriarchs, had authority over their children: “by right of father-hood”, they had “royalty over the children”, in fact.

So children are subject to their parents, and parenthood is the “fountain of regal authority”, and this authority was bestowed by God himself. The argument promised in the chapter title begins to take shape: the first Kings were Fathers of their Families.

God also specifically assigned it to the eldest parents, which I think becomes important later.

He ‘saith’: Adam had dominion over the whole world, a Right granted him by God, and that Right was passed down to the Patriarchs. He gives what this Right is specifically, using biblical examples of authority: Dominion over Life and Death, the ability to make War, and to Conclude peace. (All of this is quite fundamental to later theories of sovereignity, especially critical ones: biopower! necropolitics! Indeed, Filmer refers to them as the “chiefest marks of Sovereignity”)

Although his history is Biblical and not the kind of historic epistemology we tend to use, as far as we’re concerned, Filmer’s argument is correct. At least for some parts of the world. I need to read more about stone & bronze age sovereignities globally but my reading on ancient Greece absolutely confirms this: the first forms of authority in that part of the world that we have record of was that exercised by a familial Patriarch who governed over a small kinship villages, setting the law (which is spoken of in terms of having ‘power over life and death’), and declared wars. There would eventually become a ruler who was largely symbolic but who, for this or that reason (not even political reasons, but often reasons related to the development of the productive forces or of national security) would appropriate more and more power from the Patriarchs while the social groups based on kinship ties would lose coherence.

Filmer’s argument here is not quite a naturalistic fallacy because he does not argue directly that it is right because it was so. Rather he uses history here to say that liberty is not natural to men, which he feels most Republican theories of government presuppose. Monarchy is argued to be good only indirectly, so the fallacy only happens ‘between the lines’ of the page.

1 note · View note

terramythos · 3 years

Text

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 12 of 26

Title: A Wizard of Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #1) (1968)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Third-Person

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 5/6/2021

Date Finished: 5/12/2021

Ged is a talented young magician with incredible potential-- possibly greater than any before him. He sets off to join the wizarding School of Roke, and quickly surpasses all of his peers. But in an act of arrogance, Ged tries to bring back the dead to impress a rival student. He unleashes a malevolent shadow upon the world, leaving him traumatized and permanently scarred.

Soon Ged finds himself hunted by the shadow wherever he goes. None of his magic seems to work on it. Worse, he lives in fear that if the dark creature overtakes him, it will use his body as a weapon to harm others. Ged journeys from island to island in an attempt to find the solution and banish the shadow once and for all.

Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk’s flight on the empty sky.

Content warnings and some spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Violence and death, including child death and animal death. Traumatic injury.

As a fiction writer, Ursula K. Le Guin is best known for her Earthsea series, but I haven’t read them until now. She had a big impact on my childhood via a series of picture books called Catwings (they're... about a family of cats who can fly). As an adult, I’ve grown more intrigued as I've learned about Le Guin’s philosophies, especially anticapitalism. I read her famous horror story The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas last year and found it unsettling and thought-provoking. So I decided to read some of her longer works! And, of course, speculative fiction is always the way to my heart. My wonderful sister gave me the first four books of Earthsea for the holidays last year, and I’m finally getting the chance to read them.

Overall I had a good time with A Wizard of Earthsea. It’s structured differently than a lot of fantasy novels I’ve read. While there is a big overarching plot, the individual chapters usually have their own complete story arc. It’s the type of book where you can read one chapter before bed and feel like you got a whole story; each part advances the main narrative while also providing a complete side adventure.

There’s a lot of travel in A Wizard of Earthsea due to the setting. Earthsea is a giant, possibly world-spanning archipelago, meaning there’s a ton of islands, each of which has its own way of life. The conflict naturally has Ged travel from island to island and interact with various peoples and creatures. The closest comparison I can think of is The Odyssey, and I’d be shocked if Le Guin didn’t draw inspiration from that. Both stories involve the protagonist traveling by sea and meeting a variety of characters and mythological creatures through smaller, discrete conflicts and interactions. Usually I find long travel sequences boring, but in this case they were one of my favorite parts of the book. There’s always a sense of anticipation on where Ged’s journey will take him next.

The magic system is also is pretty cool. The idea is that all parts of nature, from humans to goats to oceans, have hidden “true” names. Knowing something (or someone’s) true name gives one power over it (or them). Thus wizards use true names to manipulate nature; giving another person your true name is an act of absolute trust and devotion. However, a big theme of the book is equilibrium. One must always be aware of potential consequences when using magic. Changing the wind in one part of the world could cause a devastating storm one island over. Sort of a butterfly effect type thing.

Even though violence is one of my content warnings, I’m impressed that Le Guin largely circumvents it in the story. In many fantasy stories, a wizard/mage character uses their magic to fight and crush their foes. Not so much in this novel. While Ged clashes with various entities through the story, he usually just outsmarts them. Thus his showdown with a big, fuck-off dragon boils down to Ged guessing its true name and telling it to leave. Antagonists are usually the ones instigating violence.

One thing I found odd about the pacing of the book is it slowed down a lot in the last few chapters. There’s a big action sequence with serious consequences around the novel’s midpoint, but everything after that is slower and more reflective. On a surface reading level, I’m not sure I liked this. I’m used to stories ramping up the tension more and more until the end. However, I did like the climax itself, when Ged reveals the shadow’s true name. The central moral of the novel is that one needs to accept everything about themselves, including their past mistakes. Everyone has a dark side, which ties into the central theme of balance, and even the opening poem of the novel (which I used as the excerpt for this review). It’s a pretty universal idea, but Le Guin presents it in a thematically satisfying way.

I tagged this as a Young Adult novel because Le Guin wrote it for a teenage audience. YA didn’t exist as its own genre at the time, but A Wizard of Earthsea is a coming of age story (a staple of YA), and even has a moral message of sorts at the end. However, sometimes it’s really obvious that it’s intended for a younger audience. As I get older, I’ve noticed that YA tends to be pretty blunt about its meaning and symbolism in a way adult novels aren’t. For example, while pursuing the shadow, Ged gets lost in a mysterious fogbank. To me this was a clear callback to the first chapter, where Ged outsmarts a band of barbarians by trapping them in a fog. But Le Guin also made sure to tell me several pages later, in case I missed the parallel. I’m torn on this when reading YA. While I’m not the intended audience, I feel this approach underestimates teenagers’ ability to critically examine a text. But YA teaches many how to view things that way, so I see why authors do it. Teens aren’t a monolith, but it is interesting to see this tendency to over-explain in a novel from 50+ years ago.

A Wizard of Earthsea is surprisingly progressive in many respects. Perhaps the most obvious is race. Ged and most of the main cast are explicitly nonwhite and described as such in the text. This isn’t a huge revelation in 2021, but it’s amazing to see something like that in a mainstream fantasy novel from 1968. Apparently Le Guin struggled with publishers for a long time, as many early covers whitewashed Ged for the sake of “sales” until she gained more creative control. And the (shitty) film/TV adaptations of Earthsea are just as guilty. I went through a LOT of covers while researching this book, and even newer editions often opt for heavily stylized art, nonhuman subjects, etc. The cover I chose is from 1984, when Le Guin presumably had more influence on Ged’s portrayal. I’m interested to see how past book covers stack up when I deep dive on the other books.

However, I found the book to be not so progressive when it came to gender roles (I know, I wasn’t expecting that either). Le Guin makes it very clear that all the famous and powerful wizards/mages in Earthsea are dudes. The wizard school toward the beginning is all dudes. All the adventurers and sailors in the story are dudes. Ged himself makes some pretty sexist comments (though to be fair, that was pre-character development). There are relatively few female characters in the story, and many are either bit parts or (in one case) a seductive, power-hungry villain. Portraying sexism in a fantasy setting isn’t an inherently bad thing. Jemisin’s Dreamblood duology, which I read earlier this year, introduced stringent gender roles in order to explore the insidious nature of misogyny. But A Wizard of Earthsea doesn’t really go beneath the surface level. Yarrow is probably the most well-written female character in the story, and she only shows up in the last few chapters. Again, I’m interested to see how Le Guin handles this in later entries; the next book stars a female protagonist and Ged’s the deuteragonist.

I liked A Wizard of Earthsea overall, and I think it serves as a good introduction to both the series and a central recurring character. While I have some criticisms of the first book, I do realize it’s a relatively early work of Le Guin’s. The last novel in this series was published in 2001, so I’m interested to see how the characters and writing changed over 30+ years.

#2021 reading challenge #8/10 #taylor reads

9 notes · View notes

lesbian-sora · 6 years

Text

Only Fools

Summary ~ School is hard. School is harder when you’re a loser who has more bullies than friends. School is even harder when you have a crush on the most amazing guy in the world, even if your friends can’t see it. School is damn impossible when your friends coerce you into participating in the school play with the most amazing guy in the world.

Dan and Phil’s experience falls into the impossible category, but maybe together (with some help from the King himself) they can make it out alive and well.

Tags ~ Fluff, high school AU, friends to lovers, theatre kids, mutual pining, slow burn, slight angst, not actually unrequited love

Words ~ 7106/~35K

Warnings ~ Swearing

Rating ~ Teen

Author’s Note ~ Hi guys! This fic was originally supposed to be one of my fics for Phandom Big Bang 2016, but things came up. I recently blew the dust off of it, and I really liked it, so it’s getting revamped and published! Updates will most likely be once a month for the next 4 months (I may up that posting schedule if writing/editing goes well and people actually like it) and I look forward to all of you getting to read it! Also, this will be my first chaptered fic that I’m posting one part at a time, so that’s exciting!

Prompt me!

Buy me a coffee!

Next chapter!

Read on AO3

Act I Scene I

There honestly weren’t very many people Louise Pentland disliked. She was bubbly and personable, meaning she got along with just about everyone she came in contact with, and she quite liked it that way. Everything from her approachable smile to her mothering attitude made it so people were drawn to her and she to them.

That being said, she absolutely despised Phil Lester.

Was it unfair, petty, and totally unreasonable? Absolutely. In all honesty, Phil would probably be voted nicest guy in the school, if anyone were to take a poll. Was he was a bit weird? Most certainly. However, it was a completely harmless weird. It was quirky and odd like that store on the edge of town that dealt solely in the manufacture and sale of cat-themed gnomes. If she were to be straight with herself, she would admit that Phil had never knowingly or unknowingly harmed, damaged or even seriously upset herself or anyone she remotely knew, simply because that wasn’t the type of person Phil was. No, her dislike of Phil wasn’t his fault, and he had no idea it was even happening. Her dislike boiled down to one thing and one thing only.

“Louise! You’ll never guess what Phil did today!” Dan gushed, collapsing in the seat next to her.

Louise didn’t bother to look up from her compact where she was very carefully reapplying her lip gloss. She knew Dan was flushed lightly with a wide, dopey smile and that his eyes shone as if every star was compacted down into glitter that was dumped into hot chocolate. He always looked like that when Phil was brought up. Which was a lot. “I’m guessing from your normal reports that he was walking down the hall and breathing.”

“No,” Dan scowled and wadded a bit of paper into a tiny ball and flicked it at her, offering a sheepish grin after it landed in her makeup. “I actually talked with him a bit today.”

“Dan, we’ve discussed this before. Saying ‘Hi, Phil!’ and then hiding your face and running away before he can respond doesn’t count as talking to him.”

“Someone’s in a mood,” Dan pouted. “And I’ll have you know this was a totally real and legit conversation we had. Some dick head knocked into me on the way out here and Phil saw and helped me pick all my stuff up and everything. He even gave me his hand to help me stand up!”

Louise cocked a brow. “Really? Honestly, Dan I almost didn’t think you had it in you,” she said, ignoring his squawks of protest. “What all did you boys talk about?”

“He saw my piano book and asked if I played,” Dan said dreamily, the look on his face making it more than apparent that he was reliving the moment in perfect clarity again and again until it was ingrained in his memory. “And so I told him yeah, but I was awful and then I thought he was going to just leave but he walked with me almost the whole way here and he saw me in the play last year, Louise! He saw me and remembered me and told me I did a good job! Oh my god, it was probably the best moment of my life.”

Louise rolled her eyes, but smiled good naturedly, more than pleased over how happy her friend was. However, there was one thing that always bugged her about the whole situation. “Dan, darling, why Phil of all people? I mean he’s nice and all, and, sure, he’s not awful to look at, but he’s just so strange. Saying you could do better is probably the understatement of the year.”

Dan looked at her, glaring at her as if she’d just spat in his mother’s face and told her that her cooking was a disgrace (which she hadn’t) and he was personally offended (which he probably was). “Okay, first of all,” he started and Louise took a deep breath, already regretting her words and preparing for the sermon that was soon to follow. “Phil Lester is an unusual beauty so rare and perfect and we don’t deserve him. Second, he’s got an absolutely brilliant mind and we should all count ourselves lucky to hear anything that brain decides to gift us with. Third-”

“Mr. Howell,” Mrs. Bronwell interrupted from the front of the room, “as much as I’m sure we’d all love to hear you expound on the virtues of Mr. Lester, I, personally, get paid to teach you math, and I’d quite like to do so at this moment. If that’s not an imposition on you, of course.”

Dan blushed bright red all the way from his collar bones (and possibly farther, who knew) to the very tips of his ears. “Sorry, Mrs.,” he said, sinking down a bit more in his chair. “I’m done.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Louise scoffed, quite unintentionally. There were a few scattered titters around the room and Dan gave Louise a long, hard, stare. The whole school probably knew about Dan’s crush on Phil just from him talking loudly and passionately about how wonderful the other boy was at any chance he got, so it’s not like there was any new gossip being delivered so he didn’t really feel the need to be properly embarrassed. But, the sting of betrayal was still there and he was sure to let her know he felt about it.

“Thank you for your contribution, Miss Pentland,” Mrs, Bronwell smiled, “but we really must get on with our lesson. Now, today we’re studying logarithms - James, don’t you roll your eyes at me. Yes, I saw you just fine.”

Now that the lesson had begun and he was finally free of all judgement, Dan let himself drift off quite happily into his thoughts, where his daydreams once again found themselves centered upon the subject of Phil Lester. How kind his smile was when he was offering him help. How he seemed genuinely interested as Dan flushed and fumbled over the explanation of his mediocre piano skills. How his hand was so soft but sure and he held Dan’s own and pulled him to his feet. As his teacher went on about the ins and outs of math things he didn’t care about Dan drew little doodles, of hearts and Phil coming to rescue him from the horrors of sports. He sighed happily and looked out the window thinking about Phil Lester, unknowing that somewhere in the school Phil was sighing happily and looking out a window thinking about Dan Howell.

Act I Scene II

“I found out he plays piano, Peej!” Phil beamed, waving his hands around for emphasis. “That’s so impressive, honestly. I wonder if he can play anything else.”

“I think I heard somewhere that he plays drums, but that could just be a rumor.” PJ paid the conversation little mind, far more focused on the poster he was designing for the school play.

“Eh, he seems the type,” Chris added helpfully. “You know: loud, obnoxious and in your face.”

Phil scowled at his now snickering friends. “He is not. He’s always really sweet and quiet when I talk to him.”

“Yeah?” Chris challenged. “Well, I had a history class with him one time and his own friend asked the teacher if he could change seats because Dan was distracting him too much.”

“Sean said that one time when they were taking a chemistry exam Dan started singing the periodic table. Out loud,” PJ added helpfully.

“He’s boisterous, maybe,” Phil conceded, “But he’s probably hilarious which is why his friend was so distracted and besides, learning a song to memorize the periodic table is pretty smart.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Mate, we could tell you that Dan killed Mother Theresa and you’d just say ‘I mean, she probably deserved it.’” PJ chuckled next to him and Phil simply shot him another dirty look. “Anyway, as much as you love talking about Dan we really ought to move on because me and Peej, well, we don’t enjoy it near as much as you.”

Before Phil could argue PJ chimed in with a, “Help me decide on which one of these posters is better. Mr. Walters wants them up by this afternoon so people have plenty of time to sign up before auditions next month.” He showed them a couple of hand drawn posters, one featuring a more 60’s theme with psychedelic rainbow patterns and little people scattered all around doing various theatre things whilst the other was more focused on space, complete with little aliens all over it. Both said in clear letters “Join this year’s spring musical! All You Need Is Love: A 60’s space drama written and produced by PJ Liguori and Sophie Newton. Auditions after school in the auditorium on 8/8”

“I like the space one,” Phil said.

“No, no. The 60’s is way better,” Chris argued. “It’s more fun looking and approachable. Everybody likes the 60’s.”

“No, everybody likes space,” Phil insisted.

“No, you like space, you big nerd.”

“I think we should ask the cards.”

“Phil,” PJ groaned, “you can’t rely on your tarot cards for every decision you have to make.”

“Yes, I can. I asked the cards and they said it was fine,” Phil smirked, pulling out his deck of Pokemon cards. He was honestly rather proud of them; he had spent an entire afternoon dedicated to learning each of the 56 cards in the full tarot deck and assigning a Pokemon to each one, then an entire month (and more money than he’d care to admit) collecting every single card until his deck was finally complete. He closed his eyes and focused. “Alright, we’re just doing a yes or no question so we can just use the Major Arcana, or would you rather do a full reading with all the cards?”

PJ rolled his eyes, but said, “Just the Major is fine. You can do a full reading when it’s more important decisions.”

Phil nodded, separating out the twenty two cards needed. “Okay, PJ, I’m going to start shuffling. Focus really hard on your question and when you think it’s time, tell me to stop.”

PJ closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and said, “Stop.”

Immediately, Phil quit shuffling and laid the cards out in a neat row. “Is this good, or do you want me to shuffle again?”

“That’s fine. My question is ‘Should I use the space themed poster?’”

“Alright, choose a card.”

PJ chose one fourth from the left and Phil flipped it over, revealing a card of Mew. Phil grinned, before announcing: “You got The World, which talks about your conscious and unconscious joining and how you’re facing an important juncture that will make your path for the future clear. It also means that you’re going to gain true insight to the nature of yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, but is it a yes or a no?” Chris said impatiently.

“It’s a yes,” Phil said with a smug smirk.

“And how do we know you’re not bullshitting us to get your way?”

“Well, if you think about it there was the whole conscious, unconscious thing, and he clearly preferred the space one, considering how much time he spent on it.” They looked at PJ for confirmation who shrugged and nodded with a sheepish grin. “Plus if you have the play be ‘you’, having this decision be insight into the true nature of yourself makes sense since it’s really more about space with a sixties flair than sixties with space themes.” Chris frowned thoughtfully, slowly nodding his head before Phil grinned and added, “Also, you don’t.”

“Why you absolute-”

“Stow it,” PJ hissed. “Mr. Bedsole just walked in.” And with that, the three quieted down to focus on the droning lecture about World War II.

Act I Scene III

“But you said we were going out for coffee today!” Dan pouted at Louise, who, in her defense, looked absolutely heartbroken denying him.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” she said. “I really am, but Chummy says there’s a huge sale going on in Brighton today and I really don’t want to miss it. I promise we can go tomorrow.”

“I do swear that it’s a one day sale,” Zoe added earnestly, looking almost as remorseful as Louise. “I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow to make up for it.”

“That’s all well and good for tomorrow, but what am I meant to do for today?” he whined.

“You could always come with us?” Louise suggested weakly. “We can get coffee at the station to have on the train?”

Dan sighed, quietly enough that the two girls didn’t hear . “As much as I do honestly enjoy going shopping with you two, I’m really not up for a two hour train ride today. However, if you see anything you think I’d like, I wouldn’t say no to some more peace offerings for bailing on me today.”

“You cheeky thing!” Zoe laughed, gently pinching his cheek. “You’re a right mess and a half, you are.”

He batted her hand away with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Seriously, though. What am I going to do today? My mum's going to be out until five or later and I left my key at home. Do you want me to just wander around Reading lost and alone that whole time?”

“Oh, please,” Louise laughed with an eye roll. “Tyler exists, so you know there’s no way you can be bored for too long.”

“My ears are on fire right now,” Tyler sang, joining them at their table. “What are we talking about? Besides me, of course.”

“Well, someone ditched me to go look at- What is it exactly that you’re after?”

“Clothes,” both girls said in unison.

“Going to that Brighton sale?” Tyler asked with a knowing smirk. “I’d join you, but honestly, I don’t want to.”

They all laughed together before Dan piped up, “Anyway, they’re leaving me for clothes and have put my afternoon activities in your command.”

Tyler winced. “I’m sorry, Dan-”

“No!”

“I have a date!” Tyler defended. “And, boo, you know I think you’re the best thing since sliced bread, but you third wheeling me isn’t going to get me laid.”

Dan cast him a betrayed look. “So, basically what you’re telling me is I’m basically screwed? Carrie’s busy with theatre, you’re going on a date, these two would rather pet garments they can’t afford then get coffee with me, and Sean is probably off sucking face with Signe.”

“You could always just follow Phil home and sit outside like a lost puppy and hope he lets you in,” Tyler suggested, somewhat helpfully.

“Why don’t you actually fuck off?” Dan snapped,as his face turned scarlet. “That was one time, okay?”

“You stood outside his house in the rain for an hour pretending you thought it was someone else’s house before you realized nobody was home.”

“That was two years ago!”

“I still can’t believe it happened at all.”

Dan buried his face in his hands to hide his blushing cheeks. “You guys are the absolute worst people in the world and I hate every single one of you,” he groaned.

Tyler reached over and patted his cheek fondly. “Oh, boo, we know that’s not true. Who else would listen to you wax poetic about Phil?”

Again the three laughed together. “I’m still without anything to do this afternoon,” Dan pointed out.

“Can’t you just break in?” Tyler suggested. “I do that at my house all the time.”

“My mom routinely locks all the windows so mine is the only one open and there’s no way I can get to the second floor.”

“You could hang out with Sean and Signe,” Louise offered. “I’m sure they’d at least try to contain themselves while you’re around.”

“Yeah, but even when they’re not trying to climb into each other’s mouth I still always feel like I’m third wheeling so fucking hard. And not like tricycle third wheel either.”

“Why don’t you just go hang out at the coffee house on your own or go nerd shopping?” Zoe recommended. “You have your phone and headphones, right? Just sit in a corner and ignore everyone.”

Dan let out a long suffering sigh. “I guess that’s my only option, unless I want to go to the library or something.” He sighed and complained, “Why is there nothing to do here?”

“There’s plenty to do, you’re just too immersed in your laptop to experience any of them,” Louise laughed. “Chummy and I can always find plenty to do.”

“You have no idea what a town with nothing to do looks like, sweetheart,” Tyler scoffed. “Jackson was like a third this size and a good hour away from anything even remotely interesting.”

“Yeah, well, this place being better than your hometown is zero help right now. Somebody give me something to do.”

“You could just Google it and do the tourist-y things that pop up,” Zoe beamed. “Me and Alfie did that one time and it was loads of fun.”

“That sounds like a really great date,” Dan agreed, a dash of sarcasm in his tone. “However, since I’m a sexually ambiguous nerd who can’t properly talk to anyone outside of you guys, there’s very little chance of me getting a date any time soon. Plus it’s pouring and I wouldn’t want to wander around Reading in the rain even if I had a date.” Tyler took this moment to mutter about how he’d done it for Phil before, but quieted down when Dan gave him a stern glance.

“Well, whatever you decide to do, I wish you luck,” Louise said, taking out her phone to check the time. “However, Chummy and I must be getting on as our train leaves in less than an hour.”

“Bye, Louise. Bye Zoe,” Dan and Tyler chimed together. The two girls laughed and gave their final farewell hugs before leaving, leaving Dan and Tyler alone.

“So, who is this guy, anyway?” Dan asked, picking at his fingernails.

“Uh, his name is Michael and I met him on Tinder.”

“Phil’s middle name-”

“Is Michael. Yes, I know,” Tyler teased. “You’ve told us all more than once.”

Dan merely rolled his eyes and said, “So, Michael. Is this a guy you might actually like to date or is he just a casual hookup?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” Tyler shrugged. “He seemed nice enough while we were messaging but not exactly my kind of guy, you know? I may just keep in contact with him to hang out with on Fridays when I’m bored because somebody is too invested in Mario Kart to go party with me.”

“Please. You and I both know that I’m probably the last person you’d want to go with you to a party. I’d just stand awkwardly in a corner playing on my phone all night and making everyone who dared to talk to me feel bad because they wouldn’t understand a single word I mumbled.”

Tyler cast him yet another sympathetic look and Dan swore he was going to rip his eyebrows out if another person looked at him as if he was the dog they were leaving behind at the shelter. “Have you considered hanging out with Carrie this afternoon? Like, I know you said you weren’t doing theatre this year-”

“The four hours I spent locked in a janitor’s closet for being in the school play said I wasn’t doing theatre this year.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes at the interruption, but continued. “Anyway, you said you weren’t going to be in the play, but I’m pretty sure they’re just doing like pre-pre-pre-play stuff today. Hanging up posters and the like. I mean, it’s something at least.”

Dan considered his options for a moment. While he had sworn off acting for the year, he really liked most of the theatre kids he hung out with last time. Besides, it was completely harmless and he did always enjoy spending time with Carrie. “Yeah, I suppose. Anyway, if it is horrible I can always pretend my grandma is in the hospital or something to get out of it.”

“That’s the Dan Howell spirit we all know and love,” Tyler grinned, clapping him on the back.

This will be fine. What could go wrong?

Act I Scene IV

There was no way this was happening.

“PJ, I can’t go in there,” Phil hissed, physically keeping his friend by his side and out of that room. For in that room sat none other than Dan Howell, looking perfect as always whilst he lounged next to Carrie, who was laughing along at something he said. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here today!”

PJ shrugged, clearly not seeing the problem and Phil had never felt so betrayed. “He said he wasn’t coming back last year, but maybe he changed his mind. Or maybe he’s just helping a friend hang posters. Who knows? You might if you go in there and talk to him.”

“I can’t let him see me like this,” Phil refused. “I took out my contacts last lesson because my eyes were all itchy and the redness still hasn’t gone down and I look terrible.”

“Maybe he’s into the whole robot look.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Look, mate,” PJ sighed. “You can stay and help or you can go home and sulk, but either way I’ve got to be in there to take charge of this whole shindig and I can already feel Sophie glaring at me for being late. I know you don’t look one hundred percent your best ever but it’s a Monday afternoon after school and nobody looks great, and I swear to god if you tell me Dan looks amazing I will never let you borrow my Legend of Zelda games ever again.” Phil gave him a sheepish grin. “And for what it’s worth your face shape works really well with those glasses and the redness is pretty much gone.”

Phil smiled softly at his friend. “You always know what to say, Peej.”

PJ smirked and winked back at him. “It truly is a gift. Now come on, let’s go hang some posters and get some theatre nerds hyped about a play.”

As the two walked in a kind of hush fell over the gathered students and Phil couldn’t help but notice the panicked look Dan gave Carrie as he passed by them, taking a seat next to Chris and Alexandra. He leaned over to point it out to Chris, but he merely shot him a look before pointedly focusing on PJ and Sophie at the front of the room. Phil huffed; he knew why he was being shushed, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Okay, everyone, thanks for being here!” PJ beamed at the eight students sprawled across various chairs and desks. “We really appreciate your help. Does anyone have any questions?”

“Why don’t you tell them what exactly it is that they’re helping with?” Sophie suggested from behind him with a smile and a fond roll of the eyes.

PJ gave her a crooked grin in thanks before returning his attention to the crowd. “Right, I should. Well, as you all should know the school puts on a musical every spring, and if you didn’t know then you do now. Anyway, as this is our last year Mr. Walters has agreed to put on a play that Sophie and I wrote, and he’s put us in charge of everything from production to advertisement. Today we’re putting up posters around the school to let everyone know about the auditions that are happening next month, giving them plenty of time to pluck up the courage to sign up since that’s probably the hardest part of school plays for a lot of us.” There were a few scattered chuckles, and PJ carried on. “Since there are ten of us and five main areas we need to put these up, we’re going to be splitting into teams of two, and each team is going to get twenty posters to hang up. Yeah, it sounds like a lot, but we want these everywhere. I don’t want there to be a single person at this school who doesn’t know about this play. That means staple them to bulletin boards, hang them up on those weird clothes pin things outside the art room, tape them on every door and stairwell you can find. So yeah, I mean it when I say everywhere.”

“Alright then,” Sophie chimed in. “After that rousing speech, everyone pick a partner and we’ll arm you with a stapler, tape, clothespins, blu tack and more posters than you’ll know what to do with. Go!” Phil swore he saw PJ, Carrie, and Chris all share a look, but he brushed it off to partner up with Chris, only to find that he had already linked arms with Alexandra. He glanced around the room to see that PJ and Sophie were obviously in each other's pockets, Carrie was chatting with Matt, and Tom and Gi were leaned against one another playing some kind of app on Tom’s phone leaving-

“Uh, hi again?”

Phil whipped his head around to see Dan standing in front of him with a bit of red tinting his ears. “Your friend abandon you, too?” Phil chuckled. When Dan didn’t answer and just continued blinking at him, Phil flushed bright red immediately starting to back track. “Not that I’m saying- Well, what I mean is more that- You see what I’m trying to say is-” he finally sputtered to a stop. “Sorry?”

Dan blinked at him a couple more times before realization dawned on his face and he blushed to match Phil. “No, no it’s fine, I promise! I’m not offended or anything! Carrie did totally ditch me to partner with Matt. I was just really distracted by your glasses; I didn’t know you wore them.”

Phil chuckled nervously, scratching behind his neck. “Yeah, they’re- yeah. They’re kinda big and dumb looking so I try not to wear them at school too much.”

“It’s not that,” Dan mumbled, looking down and to the left while shooting Phil looks from beneath his lashes. “They actually really suit you. They make you look really smart I guess.” He flushed a bit darker before adding, “I like them.”

Well, if Phil wasn’t about to pass out before from how adorable and shy Dan looked he definitely was now. Dan liked his glasses. Dan Howell liked his glasses. He took a moment to gather himself before he could blurt out that he was about to call the optometrist and tell her to cancel all his contact orders from now until forever because Dan Howell liked his glasses. “Thanks, that means a lot,” he said instead. “I don’t really like them all that much so they can use all the love they can get from other people.”

Dan sputtered out an abrasive laugh which garnered a couple people’s attention and made Phil’s chest feel like it had been filled with warm helium before Dan slapped his hands over his mouth to muffle it. Phil considered telling Dan his hands would would better suited in Phil’s instead of quieting the music that was his laugh, but decided that was maybe a little forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you wearing your glasses if you hate them so much?”

“Oh, sometimes my contacts can bother my eyes and last period they were really itchy and so I took them out instead of trying to rub my eyeballs into the back of my skull.”

Phil mentally slapped himself for actually saying that out loud, but Dan just giggled. “Well, I hope they’re feeling better. I noticed you had some red in your eyes, so I’m glad it’s nothing serious.”

At the mention of red Phil slammed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. “PJ said the red was all gone!” he whined.

Dan immediately started flapping his hands nervously. “No, no it’s fine! It’s hardly noticeable at all! I only noticed because I was staring at your face up close, and oh my god, I can’t believe I said that out loud. Someone please stop me.” By the end of his sentence Dan was a darker red than Phil previously thought possible and looked just about ready for the world to split in half and swallow him whole. He was adorable, and Phil was about to die.

“Nah, I get it,” Phil chuckled with a smile. “You said the glasses were distracting so it makes sense for you to stare.”

Dan opened his mouth like he was about to argue Phil’s point, but there was a cough behind Phil and they both turned to see PJ standing there with a stack of flyers in his hands and a knowing smirk on his lips. “Well, since the two of you were too busy - um, let’s say talking - to come up and pick an area to work in the only one left is the gym and lunchroom, so I hope the two of you brought umbrellas.” Dan looked absolutely panic stricken at the thought of needing an umbrella, much to Phil’s confusion, but PJ simply carried on. “Sophie has the stuff to hang these up with so you two need to get going or we’re still going to be here when school lets in tomorrow.”

Phil groaned melodramatically and accused PJ of forsaking him and throwing him to the depths of hell, but still smiled and thanked Sophie - who was giggling behind her hands - when he got their tools. The only problem was that Dan was strangely quiet the entire time, and not in the adorably shy way he was earlier that afternoon when they were walking to class together. No, this was more akin to the silence of a man being lead to the gallows, and that just wasn’t going to work in Phil’s book. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dan gnawed his bottom lip for a moment before sighing and saying, “I’m really not sure if I want to tell you. Like on one hand it’s really not that big of a deal, and avoiding it is only going to make it way worse, but on the other hand it’s really embarrassing, and I don’t like talking about it.”

Phil hummed in thought, tapping his chin and looking Dan up and down through squinted eyes. To most it might look like he was just observing the younger boy to come up with some sort of plan, but in reality he was just taking the opportunity to check him out. “What if I hum and then you say it really quickly and if I hear you, I can pretend I didn’t understand and if I didn’t hear you then you at least got it off your chest and you don’t have to worry anymore.”

Dan laughed and smiled so hard his eyes were almost completely closed. “You are such a strange person, Phil Lester,” he said with what Phil was adamantly interpreting as fondness.

“You know, you’re actually not the first person to tell me that.”

Dan rolled his eyes but he still had that grin so Phil didn’t take it to heart. “Unfortunately, that plan won’t work, so I’m just going to tell you, but you can’t make fun of me, okay?” Phil nodded eagerly, knowing that there was no way he could ever deliberately make Dan feel bad about himself. Dan took a deep breath and quickly said, “MyhairisnaturallyreallycurlysoIstraightenitbutwhenitgetswetitgetscurlyagainandit’srainingandIdidn’tbringanything.”

Phil blinked, trying to process what he just heard until it finally clicked and he beamed. “Why didn’t you say so?! You can borrow my coat.”

Dan’s eyes bugged out at the very idea. “I can’t just take your coat! What are you going to wear? It may be a short walk, but you’ll still wind up soaked by the time we get inside.”

Phil shrugged. “Well, any way you look at it, one of us is going to look like a drowned rat by the end of this no matter what. You seem to be a lot more worried about it than me, so why shouldn’t you be the one to stay dry? Besides, I have a change of clothes in my bag since I’m meeting up with my family for dinner after this. Take the coat, Dan.”

“But Phil-”

“Too late!” he sang, pulling his arm out of the sleeve. “I’m taking it off and I’m not going to put it back on until it’s time to leave. If you don’t take it then the poor coat will just sit here and be useless while we both get wet. Do you want my coat to feel that way, Dan?”

Dan giggled at his overreaction, but took the coat with a gentle smile. “Thanks, Phil. I mean it.”

“No problem,” Phil smiled back. “But now you do have to hold the flyers and stuff. Just shove them under your jacket so they don’t get wet.”

Dan nodded and took the papers. “Alright then, let’s do this.”

Act I Scene V

“Oh my god, Louise, it was amazing,” Dan gushed over the phone. He had tried texting Louise but he was way too excited and his fingers kept slipping and pretty much everything he wrote had more exclamation points than actual letters. “How do we have so much in common and I never knew it?”

“Maybe because you only ever stalked him instead of talking and sharing your interests?” she teasingly suggested.

“You can’t tell but I’m giving you a dirty look right now,” Dan pouted, tracing his finger over the numbers written on the Post-It note Phil had given him. “And there will be plenty of actual talking between the two of us now, since he gave me his number.”

Louise squealed across the line. She had never made it a secret that Phil wasn’t her first choice for Dan’s big crush, but she had to admit that the fact that Dan was so over the moon for him was precious, and anything that made Dan happy made her happy. “Oh my god, really? What happened?”

“Well, we had to go out to the gym to hang posters and since it was pouring I was complaining about my hair-”

“Like you always do.”

“Shut it. Anyway, he insisted that I used his jacket to keep dry and at the end of the day it was still raining so he told me to keep it and I could text him about returning it later,” Dan sighed happily, reliving every moment of the afternoon in perfect clarity. “Louise, it was amazing. He’s amazing.”

“Have you texted him yet?” Louise demanded. “You have to tell me everything when you do.”

“I don’t want to return his jacket yet,” Dan admitted. He hadn’t told Louise that it was warm and smelled like Phil and that was why he didn’t want to lose it but he was pretty sure she knew. “What if I text him and all he wants to talk about is getting his coat?”

Louise sighed and Dan knew she was her rolling her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right? Of course he doesn’t want to just talk about that. Giving someone your coat as an excuse to keep talking to someone is one of the oldest tricks in the book. I’m pretty sure it’s been a thing since coats were invented.”

“I don’t know, Louise,” Dan said, biting his thumb nail. “I mean, Phil’s just a really nice person. He was probably just giving me his coat because it was nice. He’s not really the type to play tricks like that.”

“Everyone play tricks, even if it’s subconscious,” Louise dismissed. Dan could almost see her nodding sagely. “He probably did give you the jacket because you needed it, but the phone number was just so the two of you can talk. If he really was only interested in the coat then he would have just set up a time to get it back when he gave it to you.”

“You really think so?” Dan asked nervously. “What if I make a fool of myself and he never speaks to me again?”

“Number one that won’t happen. Number two, even if it does are you really in any worse of a boat? It’s not like you were actually talking to him before this anyway.”

“You’re being super unhelpful and also the absolute worst.”

“You love it. Now text that lion loving nerd and make sure I’m your maid of honor at the wedding.”

“What do I even say?” Dan whined.

“Just introduce yourself, you complete dollop head. Just say ‘Hi, this is Dan!’”

Dan sighed dramatically, flopping back and extending out three of his long limbs. He winced when they all settled into that nice stretched feeling and quickly changed phone hands so he could do that last one as well. “Fine, I’ll do it as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

“Oh, well, in that case my mother has been calling me to come downstairs for about five minutes and I’m definitely not making this up so you have to text Phil.”

“Louise I hate you!”

“Love you, too!” she cackled, sending a couple kissing noises across the line before hanging up.

Dan groaned and glared at his phone for abandoning him, hoping that Louise would somehow be able to feel it. After a moment he sighed and pulled up messages and tapped “Compose”

To: Phil 5:44

hello! this is dan the guy u left your coat with this afternoon lol.

Dan closed the app to open YouTube, not expecting a response any time soon, but before he could finish pulling up his subscription box his phone buzzed.

From: Phil 5:47

Hi!! How was your walk home? Did you stay dry and everything? I would have given you a ride, but I was already late to meet my parents. I’m sorry. :(

Dan took a moment to breathe calmly but quickly gave up in favor of squealing in delight as he rolled back and forth, clutching his phone to his chest. He just had to tell Louise.

To: The Mum Friend 5:49

omg hes so nice. like he asked if i stayed dry on the way home and apologized for not driving me home himself #phillesterangelconfirmed

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:51

dw about it ^-^ i stayed pretty dry. yhanks to you i don’t look like a hobbit reject.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:54

Lol any Hobbit that rejects you is missing out on making their Hobbit village cuter than all the other ones. You can come join my elf city and we can be too tall together.

To: The Mum Friend 5:57

LOUISSE HE CALLERD ME CUTER IM DYING SEND HELPP

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:58

lets be honest wed both be loners. im too tall for the hobbits and ur too clumsy for the elves.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 6:00

Why must you crush my dreams Danyul? :’< I’m not that clumsy

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:02

i think the paint still stuck in my hair from where u knocked me into the art supplies in the prop room would beg to differ.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:04

Okay, I GUESS that’s a fair point. And hey, as long as we’re outcasts together that’s not too bad in my book. ^-^

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:04

my my phillip r u flirting with me?

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:05

That depends entirely on if it’s working :D Hey, by the way, what lunch do you have?

Dan frowned at the sudden topic change, but shook his head and went along with it for now.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 6:06

i have 2nd y?

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:07

You do? That’s the same one I have? How come I’ve never seen you? D:

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:08

probs because i sit with my friends and we try to avoid human interaction lol

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:10

Same, honestly. Do you think you and your friends would want to come and eat lunch with me and mine tomorrow? We usually sit out under the tree next to the front office.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:11

i am so sorry can i answer you in a sec my mum wants me

Dan took a deep breath, trying not to panic. He quickly dialed up Louise and waited with bated breath as it rang again and again and again and again and ag-

“Dan? What can-”

“HE ASKED ME TO EAT LUNCH WITH HIM TOMORROW!” Dan shouted before she could finish her greeting.

“Wait, hold on a minute. Who did what now?”

“Phil! He asked me to eat lunch with him tomorrow!” he repeated in a much quieter but no calmer tone. “Well, actually he asked me to ask all of you if you might be interested in eating lunch with his group tomorrow. What should I even say to that? ‘Yes, I’d like to eat lunch with you tomorrow and every following day for the rest of our lives’?”

“You could always just say you’ll ask,” she said with an underlying laugh. “I don’t see a problem with us sitting with them, though. All of us like meeting new people so it should be fun.”

“You mean it? Everything will be fine?”

“I’m sure of it, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll wallop them on the head.”

“You’re the best, Louise.”

“I know it. Now go set up your lunch date already.” And with that the line clicked dead and Dan was once again left alone with his phone.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:14

sorry! my mum is v demanding sometimes T_T but yeah lunch tomorrow sounds great! all my friends like meeting new people so it should be lots of fun

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:16

Don’t worry about it! ^-^ So you want to just meet at the tree or in the lunchroom or what?

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:18

i think we can find our way to the tree so that should be fine ^-^ see u tomorrow!

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:20

It’s a date!

Dan gaped at his phone for a moment before calling Louise yet again to scream.

#phan #phanfiction #Phanfic #Phanfluff #high school au #slow burn #friends to lovers #light angst #mutual pining #Bee Writes

17 notes · View notes