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#watch all these tags post out of order so nothing i just said makes sense lol
anundyingfidelity · 1 month
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AFFECTION — Soldier Boy
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Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.
Word count: 0.9k
Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.
Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.
Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.
You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.
The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.
"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.
"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.
"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."
"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.
"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.
"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"
"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."
Ben rolled his eyes.
"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.
You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"
Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.
"The fuck you want?"
You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.
Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.
"What the fuck was that?"
You giggled. "Affection."
He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."
You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."
"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.
"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"
"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."
He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."
Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."
"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.
You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.
"Do it again."
"Excuse me?"
"The stupid hug, do it again."
You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"
"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"
His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.
"Thanks!"
You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.
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soldier boy / reader
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infinitylander20 · 3 months
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𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊
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Pairing: Homelander/fem!reader
Words: 2.6k
Tags: smut, sex, vaginal sex, wall sex, vaginal fingering (brief), biting, ruined makeup
Summary: Homelander saves you from being attacked, but is surprised when your disheveled appearance turns him on. Thankfully, you're willing to indulge him.
A fic loosely based on Mascara by Deftones!
It was a seemingly boring night, relatively quiet in the city. Homelander paced a high rooftop, bored out of his mind. It wasn’t often that the crime itinerary was wrong, but nothing was happening. So he waited, and waited, and waited.
It was supposed to be a big drug bust. Someone was going to be running down the street with a bag full of cocaine and all he had to do was listen for the quickened footsteps on the street below him. But it never came.
He was supposed to stay here until it happened, but he was debating flying home or even rubbing one out on an even taller building. That was until he heard something that made him stop pacing suddenly.
A scream.
It was a woman, clearly in distress, in the alley just below him. After the scream, he listened intently. He could hear a few men shouting as well as the thundering heartbeat of what he assumed was the woman.
He shouldn’t intervene and part of him didn’t want to. It was below him, but more importantly, he was to stay at his post per Madelyn’s orders. He did have a bad track record of wandering off on some missions.
But he was fucking bored, the night had been quiet. He figured it would be simple enough, just laser the men and save the damsel in distress. He’d get some damn attention too since he’d been alone all night. He simply couldn’t function without an audience.
Without much thought and not a lot of time to act, he descended slowly to the ground several feet away from the men. It was rather dark in the alley, so surely they wouldn’t notice him from this distance. He watched as two men tried to grab purchase on a squirming girl.
He was impressed watching you fight back against these men that could clearly overpower you. It was admirable, even, the fact that even in the face of death or worse, you kept fighting.
He didn’t watch very long before making his move. With one quick, practiced motion, he lasered a line straight across the alley. Your body hit the ground, followed by the heads of the men that tried to encase you.
Then everything was still, but not silent, not to him. The thundering of your heartbeat was deafening in his ears, indicating that he hadn’t miscalculated his shot.
He watched as you sat up slowly, swaying slightly as your eyes tried to focus on the scene around you. He heard a gasp and saw you scramble to your feet. Even from the distance, he could sense your panic, so in quick strides, he made his way to you.
He slowed once he reached you and raised his hands in front of him as if he was approaching a spooked animal. When he locked eyes with you, he froze. Wide, glassy eyes stared back at him, a smoky mess spread around them. Mascara ran in lines down your glistening cheeks.
The sight, now branded in his brain, made his cock twitch. He had never seen a woman like this before, so disheveled and tender. It invoked something primal inside him, something he welcomed.
His mouth slowly spread into a grin as he took another cautious step towards you. He was still unsure of your mental state, all he knew was that you were terrified. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with you yet, but he had to make sure you weren’t scared of him before he proceeded.
“I saved you,” Homelander said, motioning at the men on the ground around you. You never looked away from his eyes, frozen like startled prey.
“Thank you,” you spoke so softly, your heart almost covered the sound. Your voice was weak, broken. He couldn’t believe that was the same voice he heard scream minutes ago. You blinked, stray tears falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks with more mascara.
“Come here,” Homelander spoke softly, extending his arms outwards towards you. To his surprise, you actually walked right into his arms, letting him wrap them tightly around you.
It felt good to him, holding a warm, fragile body in his arms. It wasn’t a luxury he got very often. He would get formal hugs from colleagues sometimes, but nothing quite this close, this intimate.
He felt your palms against his back as your body shuddered in his arms. He held you in silence as you cried softly into his chest. The heat of your body against his was enough to add to the warm arousal building between his legs, so he gave you all the time you needed.
He pulled away from you when your cries slowed to look you back in the eyes. When he did, he couldn’t help himself to your lips, smudged with dark red lipstick.
As soon as his lips collided with yours, he knew he had done something wrong. He had acted on impulse and gotten himself in trouble again. You would run off and tell everyone The Homelander forced himself on you after being attacked.
He pulled away suddenly, looking back into your wide, vulnerable eyes. He knew what he had to do now, but he wanted one last good look at you.
But to his surprise, you pressed your lips back to his. He was so shocked he nearly pulled away again. He let his eyes flutter close as he paid attention to how soft your lips were against his.
You worked your lips slowly together as the wheels turned in his brain. In your susceptible state, you had accepted him. Your savior appeared, and you were willing to return the favor.
Once the pieces in his mind fell into place, something in him turned. He couldn’t keep himself from you anymore. He pulled you in tight against his body and deepened the kiss. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck, keeping yourself locked against him.
He couldn’t help himself from grinding into you as he became painfully aware of how his cock strained against his suit. You mewled into him, still working your lips in tandem with his.
He pulled you away from the messy scene he’d caused and guided you to the brick wall of the alleyway, all while keeping your lips together. He was practically drinking you in as he enclosed you against the wall, holding your face with both hands.
His tongue quickly found its way into your mouth, swirling around with yours with hunger. He gripped you a little tighter, earning a small, delicious yelp from you.
He pulled away then to see your face again. Your wide and beautifully vulnerable eyes held a hint of yearning in them. Your tousled hair had fresh streaks of crimson in them and your shoulders bore a few prominent bruises.
He truly felt your fragility then. Not just in the way your body felt like porcelain in his grip, but the way your psyche had bent to his will. In your tender state, you were willing to do anything for your savior.
His eyes scoured your face and shoulders, committing the sight to memory. As much as he wanted to keep you, he knew he’d have to let you go. But he still never wanted to forget the beauty of your vulnerability.
His eyes lingered on your neck that was bared graciously for him. He delved in, planting kisses to your throat. He felt goosebumps form on your skin as he dragged his tongue up the side of your neck to your earlobe.
He then began to nip softly at your skin, which quickly devolved into sinking his teeth into you with a little too much force. You gasped and grabbed a tight hold of his head. The sudden action sent his body into fight or flight. He pulled away suddenly with a growl and his heat vision at the ready.
You should have been terrified, a blubbering mess in his arms. However, all he noticed was a gasp and a small uptick in your heart rate. Your parted lips trembled just slightly and your eyes were wide with awe.
The stench of fear was one he had grown accustomed to, especially when his eyes glowed crimson, but the smell of arousal was curious. He furrowed his eyebrows once he found that quite pleasant smell coming from you.
He held your life in his very hands, and being faced with losing it excited you. Maybe you knew it was simply a threat, or maybe you just got off knowing the man that held you could kill you as easily as he kissed you. Either way, Homelander was astonished.
Your lips crashed together again as his hunger for you only grew. That lovely scent lingered in his nostrils as he kissed you as if he was starving.
Your fragility was slipping from his mind as his primal instincts took over. He was acutely aware of how little effort it would take to break you. The small yelp you let out when he tightened the embrace suddenly reminded him.
It was frustrating having to hold back, but not enough to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you. He was sure there was nothing in this world that could stop him from enjoying you completely.
Reluctantly, he broke away from you, giving you time to gasp for breath. He had nearly forgotten your need for air as had only broken away to pull your dress up your thighs.
Once your skin-tight dress was bunched around your waist, Homelander couldn’t help but knead your thighs. He relished in the way your skin felt plush against his palms. You let out a soft moan, only slightly louder than your heartbeat, that spurred Homelander on.
He admired your black, lacy panties briefly before hooking his fingers around them and pulling them down. It took immense control not to simply rip them off your body. It would be so easy, like tearing tissue paper, but he restrained himself, not wanting to ruin the beautiful garment.
Once they dropped to the dirty ground, you stepped apart, spreading your legs for him. The display made him lick his lips in anticipation. He wanted to taste you, feel your heat against his tongue, but he was too impatient tonight. He settled for running his fingers through your folds, spreading the slick that was accumulating.
Your breathing hitched at the touch of his fingers. Usually, being able to hear the workings of someone’s body would annoy him, but now he couldn’t get enough of listening to your breath and heartbeat. It was practically melodic in his ears.
Breathing against your bared neck, he slid two fingers into you, eliciting a whimper from you. He lazily pumped his fingers in and out, tuning into the way your walls felt, tightening against him. He moaned, unable to hold back anymore.
He removed his hand quickly to undo his belt. He fumbled slightly with it, eager to get it off. Once it hit the ground with a clatter, making you jump, he was quick to free his cock. In the darkness, surely you wouldn’t be able to see it very clearly, but that didn’t stop you from trying. You looked down between you both with longing.
With a hand on your hip and the other on his cock, he lined himself up with your entrance. He flickered his eyes up to yours, one last conformation that what he was doing was right. Even now, he wanted to be good, he wanted to do good for you.
Your eyes still looked the same as he remembered, beautifully innocent and yearning. He let out a ragged breath seeing your face again, smeared with ruined makeup and fragility. He couldn’t wait any fucking longer.
He pushed upwards into you, letting your tight warmth surround him. He moaned, pressing a hand to the wall next to your head to brace himself. Homelander barely felt the way your fingers dug into the fabric of his suit, but he could hear the mutual moan escape your lips.
God, you felt so good, better than he could imagine. He was sure he’s never felt anything as satisfying as burying himself into you. You were so warm and soft against his hardened, aching length, he could barely hold himself back from absolutely ruining you.
He wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you flush against his body and buried his face into your neck. He was simply unable to get close enough to you as he began thrusting into you with restrained vigor.
With each thrust, he found it harder and harder not to keep you. His lust-clouded mind just couldn’t let you go. He’d be so kind to you too, he’d keep you safe and be so so good. You would never want to leave.
As an overwhelming pleasure began to build throughout his body, that’s when he decided this couldn’t be his last night with you. He’d take you back to his penthouse, keep you there forever where no one else would try to hurt you. You’d be eternally his.
Your heartbeat thundered in his ears. Keeping him tethered to the reality he found himself in. He rutted against you, chasing a release he knew would be unmatched. He had never ever had the pleasure of desecrating someone as special as you.
He knew he wouldn’t last long, not with how desperate he was, but he wanted this to last forever. He wanted to give you the same experience he was having, it was what you deserved: to be so wrapped up in pleasure it was maddening. He wondered just how good this felt to you.
But he couldn’t help it, with another firm thrust, he was spilling his seed deep within you. He let out a growling moan, almost a howl, into the crook of your neck as a glorious, euphoric pleasure overtook him. Warm, wet tears fell from his eyes, dampening your skin.
You let out your own beautiful moan as your walls fluttered around his cock as if you were milking every last drop from him. It was an intoxicating feeling, one he was certain he wouldn’t feel for the last time. He would make sure of it.
He didn’t move, all he did was cry quietly into your soft neck. He wanted to hold you tighter, but he could already feel how fragile your spine was in his grasp. So he forced himself to remain as he was, holding you as tightly as he could.
He then felt your fingers tracing up the back of his neck and into his hair. Last time you had done this, he’d nearly lasered you, but now, he relaxed. He hummed as you raked your nails through his hair to his scalp.
Perhaps this was your way of telling him it was time to let you go, but little did you know he had no such intention. Although your ministrations had softened his muscles, he still held you firmly. So he used his grasp to pull you off your feet and into the sky.
He had half expected you to panic, to squirm away from him despite being several feet off the ground. But you didn’t. You just clung to him as he clung to you.
He let out a soft sob in response to your compliance, then reluctantly moved his face from your neck. He scoured the area from above, looking around for his destination. When he found the tower, he started flying straight for it, you tucked safely in his arms.
As he flew away, he heard the pitter of rapid feet fleeing the building he stood atop of earlier. But that seemed so insignificant now. Nothing was as important as you anymore.
A/N: I sort of wrote this as a way to work on my descriptions, so feel free to let me know how I did! I'm also thinking of doing a second part based on another Deftones song! Can you guess which one??
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tibbythetiger · 6 months
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Hello, hello!! I’m back! I went and finally got to see the film in theaters (the first two times I watched it on Peacock)! I’m going to have a  direct continuation of my previous post!!
I feel like Mike and Ness get really close after the events of the movie. Like many people already HC, I think Ness is really invested in the mystery of Freddy’s. So when Mike suddenly quits and is literally ripped to shreds with Vanessa fucked up in the hospital, his theory senses are tingling. He doesn’t try to push Mike or Abby, even though it’s killing him to not know what is going on. While Mike is desperate to find a new job, he’s pretty much out of babysitters for Abby at this point. With Max dead, his Aunt out of commission, and Vanessa in the hospital, Ness graciously stands in for the others and ends up keeping Abby with him at the diner while Mike is job-hopping. 
Also, given the attack on their Aunt, they can’t stay in their house for a few weeks. Ness offers his tiny apartment to share, which prompts Ness and Mike to share a room, and well, after one night Mike and Ness both insist on sleeping on the floor, a bed as well. It’s super cute and domestic and it makes Mike yearn for a life like this. But, he’s still not quite ready to make a move on Ness; mostly because he’s still a little freshly traumatized by the events that just happened, but also because homeboy’s self-esteem is non-existent. Ness is still head over heels for Mike, but is trying to tone it down for the time being so he doesn’t freak Mike out. However, after about two weeks, when Abby crawls into bed with them both after a nightmare, Mike finally breaks down and tells Ness about what happened at Freddy’s.  He’s surprised when Ness just believes him. 
Once the bunny (ha) is out of the hat, Mike’s walls crumble a little bit more. Ness decides that this is the best time, and decides to plan a really cute night for the three of them. He makes them dinner and makes sure he has Abby and Mike’s favorite movies. It all goes fairly smoothly, Abby does end up eating most of her dinner, but Mike falls asleep part way through the first movie, and Ness ends up putting Abby to bed. When he’s in the hallway on his way back to Mike, he finds Mike there looking at him with a soft smile and he just leans in and kisses him. 
After that, they don’t really talk about it, but they’re just together from there. They’re not super out when they’re in public (mostly because it’s 2000, and we’re assuming this takes place in a mid-western state), but Abby understands that they’re together now. Nothing huge really changes between Mike and Ness, for the most part things stay the same. Ness still helps with Abby, they still have their lil movie/TV-watching sessions after Abby goes to bed. Where they used to awkwardly stay on opposite ends of the couch, they are cuddling now. (I agree with whoever said Mike is the little spoon because YES) It’s little kisses in the morning, holding hands when they’re able to get Abby from school together in the afternoons. 
Eventually, though Abby and Mike do move back into their house, this is mostly because, with Mike’s custody and house checks, they need to have more space in order to not tip off CPS that they’re gay. (Again, just basing this off the time period and the area we’re presuming this in, I could see the state using that against Mike) Ness still spends most nights at the house, and he has a toothbrush and drawer in Mike’s room.  
This is all I have for now!! Also, I’m not sure if I want their Aunt to be dead or just, have been attacked by Golden Freddy. I feel like it could have gone either way in the movie, and I think that it would probably make more sense for her to just be dead. I’m going to try and write more general HCs for these two tomorrow! Again, if someone wants to write this out as an actual fic, please feel free to do so! Just be sure to tag me so I can make sure I can read your work!
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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months
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Tsudere Jax that pretends to hate the reader but does things to secretly be with them x a fem happy but smart Uzadere that loves being in the circus (sorry for the weird terms lol I watch too much anime)
i just love the way you write Jax it seems so accurate and cute! Sorry for all the tadc asks but I just couldn't help it- you have the best Jax stories
Jax x Uzadere!Reader !
No need to apologize for sending stuff in, if it makes you feel better I hardly noticed you sent multiple things in, and still haven't seen any connections even after you point out you've sent in multiple 😭😭 nothing wrong with sending in 1 or 2 requests though!! And I take me not noticing you being the same person says you're not sending in too many.. if that makes sense?? Sometimes you can make out spammers/excessive requesters through mannerisms and stuff
Sits
Anyways ehehe I hope you enjoy!! Didnt see much point of tagging jax as a tsundere since I now realize that's literally.. how I write him sometimes
Written on mobile!
Apologies for any mistakes, I've never heard of a uzadere before <\3
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I think I said in my general jax hc post from a few days ago that sometimes jax will steal something from someone's room in order to make them come to him.. get their attention..
I think jax would do that to you, many times.. and you pick up on it and start being annoying about it.. as in you start teasing him
Cue jax trying to shut it down, despite the things you're saying being totally true!
I think if anyone else tried to say that he had feelings he would act like a little schoolyard boy talking about cooties... definitely getting way too deep into trying to dismiss things
Sometimes he can find your loud uzadere-esque personality annoying, and perhaps even more so since you're so happy..
That makes it sound like he doesnt want to see you happy, but that's not true! Its more so like.. exhausting positivity sometimes, you know? You're just so cheerful that sometimes it can get onto this mean bunny's nerves
Probably uses your brains in pranks and shenanigans.. totally not because he likes your company or anything...
Probably still acts like you have cooties even if you guys have been dating for a long while
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theinfinitedivides · 10 months
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listening to the PS:2 soundtrack again in an attempt to bite the bullet and psyche myself up to watch both films back to back in August(? that's the goal at least, if i get to watch it earlier even better) and i have been stuck on Veera Raja Veera for an hour and a half. i have also figured out my personal ranking for all versions of the song at last and it went about as well as i would have expected. it started to get too long for the f*cking tags tho so i decided to put in this post, we'll see how it goes from here—list is in order from least liked to most liked btw
5. going to start this off by saying i'm so so sorry to Gulzar but it's something about the rhythm for me. the lyrics are lovely but the way they are lining up with the music in the Hindi version,,,,,,, or failing to in certain parts,,,,,, it's not it. it's not it. it does well in the first minute or so and then heads downhill from there, and tbh it's not his fault i think it's just the sheer amount of syllables that they have to fit in compared to the original? and with that in mind it's not going to sound the same, obviously, but what salvages it from being a complete disappointment is the way we got both Shreya Ghoshal and Kavita Krishnamurthy as a duet in this year of our Lord 2023. Kavita, who still sounds the same as she did on the Dil Se soundtrack singing Satrangi Re and the Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam soundtrack and the Devdas soundtrack and the Yaara Dildaara soundtrack and the K3G soundtrack with Bole Chudiyan and Shreya Ghoshal who is a pleasure to listen to on practically everything she touches (Bajirao Mastani and Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and that aalap just before her verse with Kavita here i'm looking at you) and— *inhales* *exhales* ok. do appreciate them letting Kavita take the 'चुन चुन चुन चुन / जाली रे जाली चिंगारी' portion in the Hindi translation bc she sounded beautiful there. (she always reminded me of Lata in that regard i think, and for some inexplicable reason i've by extension connected the two of them to Zohra Sehgal in some of her roles)
favorite line — 'दुश्मन पे टूटे जब | बिजलियों का वीर' / 'dushman pe toote jab | bijilyon ka vaar'. this is one of those times where the rhythm works in their favor and works well, and it leads perfectly into the rest of the verse imo. also @ that one guy going 'योद्धा~~' / 'yodhaa~~' at the very end of the song ty for your service
3. in contrast to the rhythm problems of the Hindi the Kannada recording is very smooth? i don't know if that makes sense as someone who doesn't speak the language but it's like water. like water in a stream just one after another going over the stones in the riverbed as it passes or the waves lapping against the side of the ship or the gentle sound wind chimes make when they hit against each other in the lightest breeze—the phrasing doesn't feel forced (ty Jayant Kaikini sir) and the syllables match the music as well as the original. ofc Rakshita Suresh and Sivasri Skandaprasad have a part to play with their solos in this sounding as good as it does, despite its ranking on my list (which will be explained in the next entry), and while i expected nothing less from Rakshita after Kirunage, this is the first i'm hearing from Sivasri and she blew me away. i had to listen to it several times to be able to tell them apart, and i might still be wrong bc their voice color is very, very similar, but they took what Rahman gave them and made it their own. (is it Rakshita that starts and Sivasri that continues? i'm thinking that it alternates between them with Sivasri ending that portion)
favorite line — 'ಮಳೆಗರೆವಾಗ ಬಾಣ | ಅಡಗಳು ಎಲ್ಲಿ ತಾಣಾ' / 'malegarevaaga baana | adagalu elli thaana'. this is where the river analysis stands out to me bc this feels like putting pebbles said river into a tumbler and rolling them over and over until they come out smooth and polished and just. right. (i am using the word smooth a lot to talk about the Kannada version sksksksk but can you blame me)
3. technically Malayalam and Kannada tie for third place on here (there is no fourth place. there is 4.75th place rounded up to fifth place and that belongs to the Hindi entry as previously stated) but Malayalam has the slightest edge for me. in terms of sound/pronunciation it's the closest to the original—i know most scholars believe that Malayalam descended from Tamil and split early on, so that might have something to do with it, but it sounds like a perfect cross between the flow of Kannada and the strength of the Tamil and ugh. pair that with Srinivas featuring and Shweta Mohan taking on that solo (by herself!!! and eating that sh*t like it was a duet!!!) and Rafeeq Ahamed as the lyricist and i play it almost as often as i play the original. (i was almost half expecting to hear the extension at the end in this version, that's how good it was)
favorite line — 'കടലിൽ ചുഴലി പോലെ | തവ നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'kadalil chuzhali pole | thava noukakalirambi'. i am in love with what Shweta does here, especially with the latter half of the line ('... നൗക കളിരമ്പി' / 'noukakalirambi') since she just heads straight into the 'വൻകടൽ...' and for some reason that is so auditorily pleasing to me. i don't have any rational thoughts behind that that's just how it is. her aalap before her verse is also breathier/softer than Shreya's if that makes sense but it fits her perfectly
2. Telugu. holy f*ck, Telugu. you put Shankar Mahadevan (i don't think i've ever heard him sing a bad song. ever. at least not what i've heard) and Chinmayi (Tere Bina???? Mayya Mayya???? Titli???? i'm still not over any of them from her????) in the same song you make every f*cking verse rhyme almost exactly courtesy of Chandrabose if Kannada is the sound of water then Telugu is pure silk and honey and the feel of something melting in your mouth and you expect me to stay alive? the actual f*ck? admittedly i may be biased bc one of my OCs is Telugu and i have been putting Telugu covers from my Bollywood playlist on loop for inspo but uh Rahman what the f*ck. what the f*ck am i supposed to do with that kind of genius
favorite line(s) — 'సమరం శ్రుతించైరా శిఖరం స్పృశించైర' / 'samaram shruthinchaira shikharam spushinchaira' & 'విధిగా తెగించైర | విధినే వదించైర | విలయం దరించైర | విజయం వరించైర' / 'vidhigaa thegincheyraa | vidhine vadhincheyraa | vilayam dharincheyraa | vijayam varincheyraa'. the f*cking alliteration? hello? also the 'veera raja veera' at the end of this version in particular gives me full body chills bc there is someone going up with the harmonization every time there's a new line. i don't know who it is but he's (they're? could be multiple vocals) going up and i am crying shaking throwing up on the floor having a spiritual experience etc etc
and finally 1. the top spot. the place where everything has been leading through this long ass piece that i have put you to suffer through
and ykw Tamil is pretty much self-explanatory i think: we bring Shankar back as we should but this time K.S Chithra (Asoka!!! Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon!!! Bombay and Thoda Thoda from Indira/Priyanka and the live version of Jiya Jale that Rahman did in Dubai!!!) and Harini (also sang for Indira/Priyanka and featured on Varayo Thozhi from Jeans) are with him and Ilango Krishnan's lyrics take over and flatline me on the f*cking operating table. before it flatlines me however i break into goosebumps every time i hear it start, bc lbh it is impossible not to when you have the f*cking vocals coming in like 'காணீரோ? நீர் காண் | சோழ வெற்றி வாள் ஒன்றை காணீரோ? | ஓ அழகிய பூவே! செல்லுதியோ | மலரிடு போ சகி!' if you stay sane during that opening you are a liar get off my feed unfollow and block i don't want you anywhere near me for the next six years or however long it takes Mani Ratnam to make his next masterpiece. no coherent thoughts head empty MV playing on loop he and Rahman own me now they have the copyrights
favorite line (had to split everything into two blocks bc Tumblr was tryin to f*ck up my sh*t) — 'எம் தமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | வீர சோழம் வாழ்க! | நற்றமிழ் வாழ்க வாழ்க! | நல்லோர் தேசம் வாழ்க!' / 'em thamizh vaazhga vaazhga! | veera sozham vaazhga! | natramizh vaazhga vaazhga! | nallor thesam vaazhga!'. technically this isn't my favorite favorite line bc i have to do a seperate ranking for that below + it's exclusive to the Tamil version and i am trying to make this a wholistic review but. it's f*cking up there let's just say that. i think i mentioned in the tags of a different post of how i've been doing genealogy research and (in the process) tentatively confirmed the possibility of there being some South Asian descent from my dad's side, specifically Tamil or Telugu based on the stories/timeline of French occupation in the Caribbean and portions of the Indian subcontinent, and there's something in me that shifts every time we get down to the last twenty or so seconds and this hits. i don't know what it is, truly—maybe the remnants of the genes of my ancestors and their pride for their land, their language—but it's there and it's loud and if it's the right day at the right time i will start crying btw. full on sobbing like a little bitch. you didn't ask but i told you anyway
after all of *motions* that, i am also offering a bonus ranking of the section of VRV that makes me rewind every f*cking time it comes on in every language, bc it featured heavily in creating my eventual rankings and i would be remiss to not mention it. so here have this additional dive into my thought process during these trying times of hyperfixation rip
'आंधी से तेज़ | तूफ़ान से तेज़ | चुन चुन चुन चुन | जाली रे जाली चिंगारी | अंग अंग अंग अंग | लागे रे लागे अंगारे' / 'aandhi se tez | toofaan se tez | chun chun chun chun | jaali re jaali chingaari | ang ang ang ang | laagey re laagey angaare', Hindi — still at the bottom of the list here, but the inflection during the repetition ('chun chun chun chun' and 'ang ang ang ang') salvages it somewhat. nothing else to say it about it otherwise, since i already addressed Kavita's voice here earlier
'വാക്കാകെ നീ കാറ്റാക നീ | ശര ശര ശര ശരമേയ്ക | വേൽമഴ നെയ്തിട് | റ പറ പറ പറ വിറകൊൾക | പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'vaakkaaka nee kaattaaka nee | shara shara shara sharameyka | velmazha neythidu | para para para para virakolka | paayatte paayvanchikal', Malayalam — taking that third place as always, but its tied partner in the general rankings is higher up in this list for a change. i think the very last part ('പായട്ടെ പായ്വഞ്ചികൾ' / 'paayatte paayvanchikal') is what throws me off tho bc of the way they distributed the line, since on the first listen i was expecting them to go 'paayatte paayvan-chi-kal' and they chose 'paayatte pa-ay-van-chikal' instead. it's not like it decreases the overall quality of the song or anything it's just a very specific hang up i have. who knows maybe my preferred pronunciation would have f*cked with the meaning and we do not want that
'సుడిగాడ్పులా అడుగేయరా | సర సర సర సర | శరమే తనువే తాకగా | చర చర చర చర | చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'sudi gaadpulaa adugeyyaraa | sara sara sara sara | sharame thanuve thaakagaa | chara chara chara chara | chelaraegaali vegangaa', Telugu — this ties with Malayalam for third place and, much like it, my quirk is specfically with the last part ('చెలరేగాలి వేగంగా' / 'chelaregaali vegangaa'). my preferred is 'chelare-gaali ve-gan-gaa', they gave me 'chelare-gaa-li ve-gan-gaa'. again, not an issue, this is just me, i'm sure they knew what they were doing otherwise they wouldn't have recorded it like that in the first place
'ನೀ ಜ್ವಾಲೆಯು ನೀ ಗಾಳಿಯೂ | ಸರ ಸರ ಸುರಿವ | ಮಳೆಯಂತೆ ಶೂಲಗಳು | ಭರ ಭರ ಭರ ಭರನೆ | ಭೋರ್ಗರೆವ ಪಂಜುಗಳು' / 'nee jwaaleyu nee gaaliyuu | sara sara suriva | maleyanthe shoolagalu | bhara bhara bhara bharane | bhorgareva panjugalu', Kannada — there are at least two portions here that sound eerily similar to the original and that is why this version has moved up to spot two. it takes that water comparison i made and uses it to its advantage so much and it rotates in my mind like a rotisserie chicken at just at the right angle and it's just!!!! it's just!!!! God pls keep me from putting this in my mouth and biting it's too good
'கூற்றாகிச் செல்... | காற்றாகிச் செல்... | சர சர சர சரவெனவே | மழை தான் பெய்திட | பர பர பர பரவென | பாயட்டும் பாய்மரம்' / 'kootraagi sel... | kaatraagi sel... | sara sara sara saravena | velmazhai thaan peidhida | para para para paravena | paayattum paaimaram', Tamil — when this hits i blank out and come to at random intervals. cannot pinpoint the time the place etc but it happens and when it does i go f*cking feral. this one i am indeed putting in my mouth and biting bc the entire thing from 'para para...' onwards??? more alliteration more alliteration more f*cking alliteration. i remember someone making a post on here that said that certain parts of VRV sound like pearls bouncing off of the floor (was it @mizutaama? i apologize for the tag but i think that was you) and i think this is what they were referring to but my ears are that f*cking floor. i thank God every day for that
anyway mutuals (and non-mutuals who are just as obsessed about PS as i am) i'm sorry for clogging your feed with my opinions on a film i haven't even watched properly, pls feel free to roast me about my ranking choices. or agree but it doesn't really matter at this point bc even tho i could be talking out of my ass in terms of actually speaking said languages (i,,,,, do not unfortunately) i've said what i needed to say sksksksk
#film: ponniyin selvan ii#ponniyin selvan ii#ponniyin selvan: ii#ps:2#ponniyin selvan#veera raja veera#jayam ravi#sobhita dhulipala#mani ratnam#a.r. rahman#kollywood#tl:dr: local gay takes that specific 'கூற்றாகிச் செல்... / காற்றாகிச் செல்...' section of Veera Raja Veera#and uses it as the base for their personal ranking of all five versions solely based on how it is translated and sung#writes an essay about it chooses their favorite lines from said versions that are not That One and posts it to tumblr.com .txt#look!!! i actually dragged myself away from streaming Shinee long enough to complete this thing that i've had#sitting in my drafts for weeks (the language analysis that is)!!!#it is f*cking hilarious at this point simply bc this is nowhere near the order of the rankings for Ponni Nadhi#like the list for that is upside down. dare i say inverted almost#i might do something for it as well in this same format idk but#doing this for VRV made me realize that every other language (except Hindi bc they have a diff version of the line)#pronounces 'soora' as 'shoora'. i think Malayalam's 'shoora' is the least pronounced and is almost ambiguous. almost not quite#you could mistake it for 'soora' but there's just enough aspiration(?) there to tell you that it's not. Telugu's 'shoora' too#the aspiration almost completely disappears when listening on Spotify it's much more prominent on Youtube#this feels like i should have posted it on my studyblr but i think i'll just reblog it there instead
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wri0thesley · 1 year
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Happy early valentines💕💖💕💖💕!!! Hope your day is going good!
Give you and your moots a blind date (with a yandere twist!)
ahh i love seeing other people do this but i fear i will suck at it so so bad!!! but i will try fgjnkbjngf. if we are moots and you are not included it is not because i Hate you it is either because i do not know how you feel about yan content or i am Scared and Afraid that we are not friendly or close enough or anything for me to actually tag you in a post!!! <3
anyway let me start with someone who i know will not give two hoots if i tag them, my beloved @hazgojo. they keep discovering little handmade chocolates on their windowsill in inazuma; and on valentines day, naturally, thoma asks for the day off to be able to take them around inazuma city, his arm around their waist tight and a warm smile on his face - and the reminder of everyone they meet that thoma is a much-beloved face around inazuma, and if somebody were to hurt his feelings . . . well. it would not end so well for them.
jade @daydreamslug is Accidentally spending valentine's day with tighnari. a trip out into the avidya forest in order for them to reference the plants growing there in their sketches and an hour spent far too close to a plant with hallucinogenic properties (for the art, you understand - they knew perfectly well what it was, but sometimes getting something right is more important than one's own health) . . . and a certain fox-eared forest ranger found them passed out and decided to take them home and take pity on them. a certain fox-eared forest ranger with a warm heart and a sharp tongue, who found himself growing very very fond of this artist he'd saved the life of, and all the more determined not to let them go when he discovered they didn't have a 'proper' home to go back to.
toast @bucciaratis-titty-window has caught the eye of a certain cavalry captain who always seems to know where she's going to be. he says it's just to do with his keen senses, but if one were to ask around the mondstadt taverns at night, they might find out that captain kaeya is always very very interested in her comings and goings, all carefully veiled in him being concerned for her as a citizen of mondstadt and nothing to do with any personal reasons. whilst he's here, though, in her favourite shop for imported liyue tea blends . . . perhaps she'd like to tell him all about them? tonight? at a restaurant he absolutely didn't already have booked for two?
gray @mydiluc is spending valentine's day with someone who really doesn't understand the buzz around the fourteenth of february. it's a day like any other, surely? but even though alhaitham thinks that there's nothing to be excited about, he'd be lying if he said that watching gray giggle and plan outfits and daydream about the colours pink and red didn't make that little beast he knows is jealousy rear up in his chest. so, despite the fact that he can't help but think that logically valentine's day is just another day . . . he makes up his mind to sweep her off her feet, just so nobody else can swoop in. and perhaps he already knows her favourite colour and her favourite foods and her favourite haunts in sumeru city, but . . . well. that's what a good boyfriend (future boyfriend) does, isn't it? in which case, he'll simply use valentine's day as an excuse to set his plans into motion.
lamb @nanamimizz is by their own admission, baby lambish . . . and there is one resident of liyue who feels it is his duty to guide those who might need a little help, to . . . fuss over them and coddle them and spoil them. this valentine's day, then, lamb finds that the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant zhongli is at their side and taking their arm and smiling, speaking to them in a soft low voice that he hopes they don't mind, but he's noticed them wandering liyue harbour these past few days (weeks. months. lamb doesn't need to know all of that), and he'd love to take them on a tour, if they're amenable to it? it's terribly hard to say no to zhongli, and before lamb knows it they are lost in his low sonorous voice and a near-perfect memory for recalling history and who knows how long it has been since this tour even began, because the sun is setting--
@scaranya naturally couldn't spend valentine's day with anyone other than wanderer, right? well - they could try, but they'd hardly fancy their chances. wanderer might not have very many ties to the world, but when he finds one - as he has in ada - he's not going to let them go. it's not a traditional valentine's day by any means - he won't spoil them with presents and gifts, he finds that kind of thing difficult to understand and fully commit to - but . . . ada will notice that he sticks close to them. that he speaks sharply to anyone else who seeks to engage them in conversation (this is a day for lovers, is it not? therefore, it is a day for them to spend together, and not any other human who has no right to monopolise ada's time). that he ends the night with a short sharp kiss with his cheeks reddened and his teeth grit - and that, to him, this is all as akin to a great romance as he can manage. whether they agree with it or not.
thats it im too shy to assign anyone else a yandere im sorry fgbnkjfgkjn
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thiamblogger · 1 year
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Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have.
i love being tagged in these sm so thank you @thiamsxbitch <33
i only have 4 and 3 of them are wips, but i do have an added extra story on my wattpad, which is under the same username as my ao3 (i won't include it though, since this only says ao3).
jealousy and ied
Theo was missing liam more than ever and it was all his fault. 'Why did i have to say that?' he thought to himself as he laid awake in the backseat of his truck. They could've had it all and been normal, or as normal as you can be in beacon hills but theo didn't believe his was good enough for him and now he couldn't even smell his sweet-like scent. All over a stupid fight. One stupid fight. *flashback* "You know she was flirting with you theo?" Liam said as he sat in the passenger seat watching theo come to a red light. " I know, I just didn't care," theo spoke turning his head. Liam's expression changed almost suddenly and he seemed angry for some reason but theo never seemed to know why liam was angry. "But she was like really hot!" He growled.
- this was my first ever fic, so everything was up in the air 😅😅
the way i loved you
Theo had gotten out, he'd made something of himself when nobody had believed in him. Nobody but Liam believed he could do it, but he managed to do it and make something for himself. A couple of months after the war, Beacon Hills began to fall into a sense of calm, which was strange for Beacon Hills, but people had began to understand and accept the supernatural as one of them. Liam didn't need a protector anymore, he was more than capable of handling himself. He didn't need Theo anymore, so Theo decided that it was his time to leave, he only stayed for Liam after all. It broke his heart, but he did was best for the two of them, he did what was best for everyone. Stiles and Malia hated his guts, Corey and Mason wanted nothing to do with him, Scott would never fully trust him, why would he? Even after all these years, Liam was the only one who cared, the only one who trusted him, but it was starting to tear the pack apart, he left to protect Liam and now it was all his fault.
- this is just pure agnst 🤭🤭
fight or flight
Liam and Theo had become roommates a couple weeks after the war had ended. Liam had found out about Theo’s home situation during a stakeout and insisted he moved in. The two boys had been observing in the preserve, trying to watch out for any sign of Monroe in case she was to return, per Scott's orders. This was when they were spotted by one of the deputy's. He had come up to the truck and banged on the window, flashing his torch in their faces. "I've told you multiple times to move along. You can't park here," the deputy said. Theo hadn't said anything, just nodded his head and left. He could feel Liam's eyes on him. He could feel him watching him. He obviously had something he wanted to say. Theo slowed down, the amber lights slowly turned red. "Liam you clearly want to something, so say it," Theo sighed. "Why didn't you tell anyone you're homeless?" Liam asked, his voice sounding hurt. "It's not like anyone would care, Liam. Plus it's not like I don't deserve it," Theo snapped.
- this was purely out out spite, sorry jaque 💕💕
the heart wants what it wants
Theo had been one of Liam's very first friends, beside Mason. The two had met when they were in the first grade. Liam had been sat by himself one lunchtime when Theo had noticed and decided to join him, offering him half his sandwich. "Hi, my name's Theo," he said, dumping his lunchbox on the cafeteria table. "I'm Liam," the other boy replied, taking the sandwich out of Theo's grasp. They'd been inseparable ever since that day, where one was, the other wouldn't be far off. Growing up, sleepovers were a regular thing for the pair, but as they got older they found themselves wanting to be with eachother every moment of every day. There was something different between the two, although neither of them could point out exactly what it was. The more time they spent together, the more they found themselves craving one another's company and affection. Theo had been the first to realise why this was.
- my writing got better... sorta ;)
no pressure tags: @raekensthinker @ksbbb @wolfboy88 @sterekshipper-writer @piease-iove-me @monsternsmut @songbvrd @chasing-chimeras @marcelsdavina
or anyone else who wants to join in :)
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with-love-from-hell · 2 years
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Melancholia
{part Four}
Fandom: Obey me!
Genre: Angst
Written for F!Mc
WC: ~2.3k
Music Accompaniment (The Funeral thru Through Glass)
CW:   Depression, negative self-talk, Insomnia, illusion to past trauma, anxiety, racing thoughts, suggestive at parts, displays of verbal aggression
>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of depression or suicidal thoughts, and are in need of help, please utilize the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, NIMH helpline, or the SAMHSA helpline. <<
You can find any future parts by searching the tag #Vermillion Skies or #Melancholia on my blog! I have added it to all parts!”
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A looming sense of doom washed over Simeon as he stood in front of the door to his old dormitory in Purgatory Hall. He hadn’t been here in so long- it almost felt like a millennia. As Barbatos turned the key to the door, Simeon felt his heart nearly stop- as if he was expecting Luke and Solomon to be waiting on the other side like they usually were. Instead, he was greeted with an empty dormitory. The sound of his and Barbatos’ footsteps echoed off the walls as they walked into the dorm, the sound creating an eerily empty atmosphere despite the furniture that still remained in the dorm.  
Simeon looked over at the royal butler, as if begging him to reconsider the change in residence. Much to his dismay, Barbatos was already exiting the dorm. Simeon felt panic creep up within his stomach at the idea of being left in the large, empty space.
I don't want to be alone.
"Barbatos, wait..." Simeon blurted out, trying to quickly think of how to stall the butler in order to make him stay just a little bit longer...
But nothing came to mind.
No matter how much he mocked and berated Barbatos for his surveillance of him while he was in the castle, something about it did feel comforting. It was almost like he had a parent watching over him. And while it did grow annoying, he'd rather deal with that than be left to the recesses of his own mind.
Barbatos turned around, raising an eyebrow at Simeon. "Yes?"
There was a moment of pause as Simeon couldn't figure out something to say. The two stared at eachother for a moment before Barbatos sighed and turned to leave once more, growing further annoyed with Simeons behavior.
Simeon listened helplessly as the sound of the footsteps faded out, and he was left by himself. With a resided sigh, he opted to to look through his old bedroom to take his mind off of things. The room was similar to how he had remembered, the only difference was a large box that sat on the bed. Simeon curiously approached, snatching up the note that sat atop the box. The contents was explained to be his belongings that were going to be transported to his new living quarters once it was established, and also included a voucher to Majolish, so he could purchase some new clothes.
The note was signed from Diavolo, with a post-script that said he was willing to support Simeon however he could, and a reminder to avoid Mc until the "time was right." Something had also been said about Solomon returning to the dorm soon enough, and having others assigned to the room as well. However, Simeon merely skimmed the letter, rolling his eyes at the seemingly faux apology for kicking Simeon out of the Castle.
He ripped open the top of the box and dug through it, taking out various items from the celestial realm and souvenirs bought with the initial intention of bringing them back for his other Seraph friends during his time in Devildom. An occasional garment of clothing here, and a blanket there were all tossed atop the bed as he neared the bottom.
Suddenly, Simeon's hand paused over a picture frame that felt strangely familiar. He pulled it out of the box, staring at the contents within the glass as his heart pounded in his chest. The frame encased a picture of him, Solomon, Mc, and Luke in front of RAD's main hall. He dragged his fingers across the faces in the picture, feeling deep sense of hopelessness follow.
I dont know if I could ever find a way to have us all smiling like that ever again.
He set the frame out on the night stand, though turned the joyous staring faces downcast for now. It was almost as if he was jealous of his former self for having everything he so desperately craved right now. As he tried to turn his attention back to the box, his eyes caught something glistening near the bottom. After shuffling some items around, he was able to retrieve a pin given to him by Luke during their first year. He smiled, brushing the grime off of the Devildom Honey Bee, smiling to himself, before feeling a twinge of sorrow slither its way into his heart, constricting it ever so slightly.
Simeon felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he squeezed the pin in his hand. While he was no longer an angel, he still felt the similar pull he did when his prophetic senses were triggered.
Something dark was coming on the horizon, and he was unable to determine what the outcome of the circumstances would be.
-------------------------------------------------
Luke sulked around the celestial palace, package in hand that was addressed to Michael. He wasn’t in any of his usual spots, making finding his superior difficult. He hated running errands like this- it always made him feel like he was just a messenger boy. It didn’t help to be at the receiving end of the relentless teasing from the other angels as well. Sure- by comparison, he was weaker than his peers. But he was still young, and had plenty of time to grow, and regardless of that, his blessing was almost as powerful as Michael’s...or at least...That’s what Simeon had always told him. 
Luke shook his head. Why was he thinking about that traitor? And why now, of all times? He sighed. It was a frequent occurrence since Simeon’s horrific fall that he would think about him. His brother still plagued his thoughts so relentlessly, even though it had been well over a month since then. He was sure that Simeon could care less about him, so why did he still feel somber whenever thoughts of the former angel came to his head? 
Perhaps it was because the teasing worsened without the Seraph by his side. Usually, his peers wouldn’t think twice about poking fun at the small angel when such a powerful and respected superior stood by his side- even if he didn’t act that way. While Michael had always been someone Luke admired heavily, he never realized how much he appreciated Simeon’s down-to-earth nature until he was gone. Now it felt like he didn’t have a friend in the world- not like he did in Devildom. Even amongst the teasing from the demons- it felt different than at home. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’d much rather be called a “Chihuahua” than a “useless errand boy.” 
The sound of nearby murmuring stirred him from his thoughts. He whipped his head around, recognizing one of the voices as Michael’s. As he followed it to the source, he was confused to discover that the council chambers were occupied. Their normal daily meeting times were well passed, and it was uncharacteristic of Michael to leave the door open while he discussed matters with the council. It was...Odd, to say the least. 
“Uh...Michael?” Luke peaked his head in the door, seeing Michael standing amongst the other council members. Their murmuring ceased when Luke entered the chambers, all eyes staring at him in such a way that made him feel a bit nervous. 
“Ah, my boy. What good timing.” Michael gave a warm smile, extending his hand to retrieve the package. 
Luke tilted his head slightly. “Good timing? for...what?” 
Michael glanced back to the other councilmembers, who all gave nods in approval. His smile widened, but something about it seemed less warm and more...sinister. “We have been conversing with the Demon Prince over the past week or so.” 
Luke’s eyes widened. “Diavolo?? But...why? Are we going to war??” 
Michael laughed, clasping a hand on the small angel’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, It’s nothing like that.” 
Luke breathed a sigh of relief, but the tightening of Michael’s grip on his shoulder did little to stifle the nervousness creeping within him. 
“We have been discussing the fate of the three realms, and we have all come to the conclusion that Simeon’s fall was a fluke.” He returned his hand to its normal place behind his back, clasped together in his other hand as he paced the floor of the council chambers. “Surely his relationship with the brothers and his infatuation with humans should have provided us with clear warning that he was vulnerable to temptation.” 
Luke nodded, unsure of what to add to the conversation. “okay...so..?” 
Michael turned, looking him directly in the eye. “We have decided to give the exchange program another chance.” 
Luke felt his face fall into an intense frown, his stomach dropping along with it. “Y-you what?” 
Michael nodded, the same sinister smile from before returning to his features as he gripped Luke by the shoulders. “You will be returning to Devildom tomorrow morning.” 
“What!? I- no!” Luke shook his head aggressively as he yelled. How could Michael think it was a good idea to send more angels back there?! 
“Now, now.” Michael chuckled, patting Luke on the head. Luke clutched his cap firmly to his head, finding the action now to be more condescending than endearing. “You wont be going alone. And this time, we will be sending someone with you who would never think twice about his status in the Celestial realm- especially at the temptation of a harlot.” 
Luke was taken aback at his candid assertion that Mc was to blame for Simeon’s fall. “What?” 
Michael shook his head. “Never-you-mind. Just go gather a bag of belongings, there’s no time to waste!” 
Luke nodded somberly, turning to follow his orders with deep reluctance. Before he could leave the room, Michael’s voice called out to him once more. 
“Oh...and Luke?” 
Luke turned to face him, the anxious feeling from before now returning as he was met with a nefarious smirk playing on Michael’s lips. “Ye-yes?” 
“I expect you to report back to me daily about the happenings in Devildom- particularly related to that of the human girl.” 
Luke quirked an eyebrow, but under the intense gaze of the council, he reluctantly returned their awaiting stares with a firm “yes sir.” Luke quickly shuffled out of the room, hearing the murmuring from before continue behind him as he made his way down the hall to his bedroom. 
Something about Michael's demeanor made him feel a similar unease to the night that Simeon fell.
------------------------------------------
Lucifer stirred awake, stretching under the warmth of the quilt. The bright morning sunlight peered in through a gap in the curtains where the patio door was. To his surprise, the door was slightly ajar, and a cool breeze rustled through the bungalow. He turned over to snatch you up in his arms- to breathe in your scent and lull himself back to sleep in the wistful morning hours. Normally, he would have already been on his 3rd cup of coffee as he began working through a mountain of reports. But today, he just wanted to hold you and savor the break from the mundane life you had both gone back to at the House of Lamentation. 
To his dismay though, you were gone. 
He furrowed his brow, quickly sitting upright and looking around the bungalow. When you weren’t in sight, he got up and approached the open patio door. Normally he would dawn a robe, but given it was just the two of you here, he didn’t feel the need. 
To his relief, you sat cross-legged on the porch with a cup of tea in hand, staring out into the ocean. The transparent lace robe you wore danced in the breeze, making you look almost ethereal. If he could, he would drown in the image of you forever, but his curiosity overtook him. 
He cleared his throat, startling you. 
“Oh, you’re awake.” you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, and give him a soft smile. 
“As are you, it would seem.” He teases, crossing his arms and resting his shoulder on the door frame. “What has you up so early, Love? We’re on vacation. You know you can sleep in, yet you've woken up extra early every day.” 
Your smile fades slightly and you respond with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep.” 
Lucifer’s teasing smirk falls into a look of concern. “Is that so?” 
You hum in response, taking a sip of your tea. Your lips hover above the ceramic rim, wondering if you should try to bring up the conversation from the other night. As the time to return home drew nearer, the unease of it slowly returned.
Lucifer pauses as you sit quietly, thinking for a moment. A few nights prior, the intense argument about Simeon had disrupted your romantic getaway, but over time you were both able to move past it and forget about it. The tension slipped away easily as you both ignored the elephant in the room, and you were right back to the gleeful passionate love you had before Simeon’s arrival back into your lives. You even still wore many of the love bites from him on your skin from the night before, and he relished in the way they decorated your neck and shoulders. He sighed, settling in next to you on the porch. His index finger found yours, nudging it closer until they were interlocked. His legs dangle off the edge of the porch, his toes just brushing through the warm sand as he kicks his leg slowly. 
You glance over at Lucifer, noticing how content he seems to be in the sunlight. If you didn’t know better, you could easily mistake him for a human with how much he seems to thrive off of it. His pale skin seemed to glow under the sun rays, making it hard to look away. His radiance always captivated you; he truly embodied the title of Morning Star. 
He catches your eye, smirking at you as you flush and turn away. “Today’s our last day here. What shall we do?” 
Before you could give him an answer, Lucifer’s DDD rings. You both turn back to the nightstand, confusion running across your faces. Lucifer has promised to keep his DDD on silent with the exception of Barbatos’ number, which allowed him to be reached in an emergency. Lucifer shot you an apologetic look before standing and moving to answer the phone. 
"My apologies- it must be urgent. I need to answer."
You nod, turning your attention back to the pinkish sky over the ocean. "Of course. I understand."
There was a moment of silent murmuring from Lucifer into the phone, leaving you to zone out as the waves licked at the shore. In your mesmerized state, you failed to hear the tone of Lucifer’s voice getting more and more irritated, so you had no preparation for his eventual outburst. 
“What the fuck do you mean you’re accepting more exchange students?!” He snapped loudly, grip tightening on the phone to the point where the screen nearly cracked. 
You jolted out of your daze, fear creeping through you at the intensity of Lucifer’s yelling. You whip your body around, feeling your heart pound at the fact that his demon form was on full display, with a hazy black aura surrounding his body. You couldn’t hear the conversation through the phone, and you barely even registered what Lucifer had yelled back through the line, but you knew it wasn’t good. 
“With all that’s transpired with Simeon, and the strained relations with the angels, you still think that's a good idea!?” Lucifer shook his head anger continuing to rise within him. “Diavolo, I’m telling you no good could come from this. Can you not see the Celestial realms intentions must be nefarious? Do you not recall what they had said to you about Mc!?” 
As if he noticed you watching him, Lucifer stole a glance in your direction as Diavolo gave his rebuttal. His heart twisted at the sight of your wide eyes- clearly filled with fear- and shallow breathing that indicated he had triggered you. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before walking toward the bathroom and shutting himself off from view. Nothing that an apology couldn't fix later, but there was no need to continue perpetuating any harm.
You took a minute to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that the anger wasn’t directed at you...or at least, you hoped it wasn't.  All you could hope for was that Lucifer was calmer when he reappeared from the bathroom, and he could explain to you what he meant when he said Michael had said something about you...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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healingagoddess · 1 year
Text
Is this forever? (Run part 3)
Request(?: @the-camiluchaa​ said “Great writing! Do you think is gonna be part 3? I would love that, full of action😍“ and I miss Ajak, so of course I did!
Note: I had written this and had more action in it! I was so inspired and then it got deleted!! I don't know how it happened, but it just didn't save after I saved it! So, here's a quick chapter i came up with just right now. I felt really bad after it did not save, that i just wanted to post something tonight since I had planned to do so. T-T
Warnings: English is not my first language.
Pairing: Ajak/F!Reader
Tags: @fivemillioneyes <3
Part 1 Part 2
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The ambiance upon arriving to the Peruvian Amazonia in your search for Druig was heavy. You kept close to Ajak, avoiding Ikaris as much as you could. Sersi tried to keep her distance and remain composed around him. She was doing amazing and you were so proud of her. On the other side, Kingo and Sprite had been at it for hours. You had forgotten how much Kingo liked to tease everybody, and it was getting to Sprite leaving her in a moody state. It was better to keep close to Ajak, who was looking after Thena along with Gilgamesh.
It was strange to see a village stuck in time, clearly under the influence of Druig. It didn’t take long to find him. And the awkward silence of the first two minutes in that chapel felt like an eternity. Until he spoke, and then Ajak revealed everything. He took it far better than you did, but it was going to take some time to convince him to join you.
“I’m not going to say anything other than I knew you were wrong.” Druig states directly to Ajak.
Ikaris gets up and gets on Druig’s face
“You have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You always wanted to be mother’s  favorite. Yet, it seems she has chosen someone else.” Druig nods towards you.
You close your eyes in annoyance, but say nothing to avoid upsetting Ajak some more. If only Druig knew the whole truth, if only everyone else did like Sprite and Sersi do. Ajak was still protecting Ikaris.
You disperse to cool off after Druig, Kingo, Ikaris and Ajak got into a heavy discussion that had nothing to do with Tiamut.
“Do you think he can do it?” you ask.
Both you and Ajak were sitting against a tree not far from Gil and Thena.
“I believe his power is strong enough to put Tiamut to sleep.”
“What happens if he can’t do it?”
“He will. I think he-”
A distant screech cuts her off, and you both immediately stand to your feet. You look at each other for a moment focusing all your senses on the distant sounds. Suddenly, you watch Ikaris being dragged by a deviant and your fighting mode activates as you begin to duplicate.
“Go with Thena!”
You shout before both you and Gilgamesh go to Ikaris aid.
You slam against the deviant and send it a few meters far away from all of you. You try to go again with a kick,  but the deviant senses your cosmic energy and charges back to Gilgamesh and Ikaris. You and your replicas end up colliding into thin air. You are quick to respond and charge back to help them both, but Gilgamesh intends  to take the deviant himself in a one on one match. You try to help, but soon are distracted by Ajak’s voice.
“Thena… remember who you are.”
You hear her soothing voice and turn to find her with her hands up in the air channeling cosmic energy. Similar to the lights forming on Thena’s face. You worry as you send your replicas after the deviant, and making your way back to Ajak. It is difficult to control both your main power and your focus on helping Ajak. You can feel it wavering as you get closer to her, slowly as to not scare Thena.
“Ikaris…” you say never looking away from both Ajak and Thena. “Help Gilgamesh.”
You see him debating for a moment and you start to lose patience.
“Go with Gilgamesh.”
You repeat yourself noting how Thena is struggling against her illness.
“I follow no orders from you.”
He says before getting in the middle of Ajak and Thena, finally getting her to act out and lose herself. They start fighting each other as Ikaris tries to stop Thena, and she tries to murder him. You feel your cosmic energy expand out your body as your replicas disperse into two directions: to help Gil and to help Ajak as you try to keep both Ikaris and Thena to stay alive as well. And it is chaos.
Your head feels like breaking into three different sections, and you are everywhere at once trying to make sense of every situation. You notice that at least five replicas are helping Gil, and three are taking Ajak further into the forest hiding from the spot that has now turned into a battle camp. You mediate between Ikaris and Thena. Suddenly, he hears something and takes off. Leaving you now with the death stare from Thena. And she comes at you at full speed with sword in hand. You have no time to think and your replicas come back to you as you try to keep Thena from hurting you and hurting herself. You barely make it the first time, but the second time she gets you with her sword piercing your stomach. And you feel the air leaving your body as the thrill sends a shiver all over your body. Pain and panic take over as you try to stay focused everywhere.
You prepare to die as Thena dematerializes her sword, expecting her to summon something bigger to end you. It never comes, instead she stands there blinking several times trying to remember something as she stares at something behind you. And in a matter of seconds she turns around with tears in her eyes, lights still forming in her eyes. Then, you see Gilgamesh being held by the deviant as it drains his cosmic energy. You try to rush to his aid, but stumble on your feet before a single replica takes after him. But it’s too late, and you watch as Thena kneels in front of Gil. In a matter of seconds, everything turns black.
_ ✽ _
The first thing you notice upon waking up is how humid your surroundings feel. Your senses spread to the rest of your body as cosmic energy still lingers there. Ajak is holding you, her face is stained with tears, and you can feel them on your face as well. She is not looking at you, instead, her broken gaze lies elsewhere. Sitting up the first thing you notice is a platinum shape; it is Thena. You get up immediately, as you remember the final encounter with the deviant. Thena sobs on the ground with her forehead pressed against Gil’s, and you confirm that he has in fact passed. No. He was murdered. Looking around you take notice of everyone else's presence with the exception of Druig. Your eyes search for that one eternal in the crowd, and when you find him a fire is set ablaze within your core. A new found rage fills your soul, and you march towards Ikaris before slamming him into a tree. This catches Thena’s attention.
“Y/N! Don’t!” Ajak rushes in your direction with pleading eyes.
“This is all your fault!” You yell out as you place your hands on his shoulder with a tight grip keeping him from escaping.
“I was just trying to help everyone else.” The words slide out his mouth with bitterness.
“No. You know what you did. It is your fault that that deviant got what it wanted.” Your furious eyes look into his icy cold ones. “Why don’t you tell them the truth?” You whisper the last part.
Ajak looks away as Sersi steps closer with tears forming in her eyes. Nobody else knows the truth other than Sersi and Sprite.
“Tell them… tell them how you tried to kill her!” The sound of your voice pierces through the forest like a thunder. “Tell them how you took Ajak to that lake with your big lies only to try to get her killed by the same deviants. How you planned for us… for ME to find her body there. All because she changed her mind about this mission.” You press him harder against the tree.
Nobody talks for a moment, but you notice everyone has gathered around keeping some distance from the both of you.
“Is this true?” Kingo asks.
Ikaris remains in silence giving the confirmation that Kingo needs.
“You don’t do that.” He says in all seriousness. “You don’t do that to family. Even if we don’t agree with their newfound plans or beliefs, we don’t harm our family.”
“He plans to get rid of everyone that comes between Arishem and his mission. He is just waiting for the right moment. And Gilgamesh was the first to pay for this.”
As you say the last part Thena gets up summoning her weapon. Ikaris pushes you away with force before taking flight. And you swear that for a moment you saw his beams forming in his eyes.  
“Coward!” Thena yells out after him.
“Wait! Take me with you!” Sprite says before materializing into an illusion of hundreds of bees as they both escape.
“They’ll come back.” Thena states.
“And when they do.” You reply.
“We’ll be waiting.” She finishes.
You go towards Ajak, who in the middle of the argument left to kneel beside Gilgamesh. Thena returns as well, and they both weep for him. The others remain talking about Sprite’s sudden betrayal. Your arms come to wrap around Ajak from behind as you place your head on her back offering support. She turns in your embrace and cries into your arms as you rock her gently in soothing and consoling motions. The sight is heartbreaking and as soon as Druig shows up a funeral is prepared.
_ ✽ _
Nobody sleeps that night as thousands of questions and thoughts from the events of the day swirl in their minds. Somewhere during the night, you find Ajak staring at the ceiling wide awake, unable to sleep just like you.
“Have you spoken to Arishem?” You ask softly.
Ajak turns to look at you slightly taken aback. “No.”
You keep staring at her waiting for an explanation.
“Every time he just informs me when the emergence will occur… and there is nothing else he needs from me. My deed is done… and that’s it.” She says lost in thought.
“Have we ever been like this?” You finally ask. “In our past lives?”
She looks at you for a moment choosing her words carefully. “No. This is the first time I experience this.”
For some reason you don’t feel sad about your past life knowing you didn’t have to suffer for Ajak at the end of times.
“But,” she continues “You are new to my missions.” She manages a gentle smile.
And you can see how she tries to smile through her tired eyes as well before you fully digest the new information.
“Wait… do you mean what I think you mean?”
Ajak nods. “This is the first time we met… so, it’s really nice to meet you.”
Tears cloud your eyes at the realization of how much Ajak has changed thanks to you.
“What was it like for you?”
“It was different… from all the times I had done this. Some come and go, and that’s alright. But you have a passion that is so unlike everyone else’s.”  She makes sure to stare deep into your eyes. “I told you this before; you make your own rules. And also,” she pauses to give you a flirty look. “You are the first one to look at me like this.”
You chuckle before getting closer to kiss her lips.
“Do you think this is our last night like this?” You ask her.
“No, I know it’s not. I have faith in Druig.”
“And then what will happen?”
“And then… we wait.”
“For what?”
“Arishem.”
“Do you have any idea-”
“We’ll sort this out. And we’ll warn everyone else in this whole universe.”
And you take her word seriously putting all your trust in her, so you nod once and kiss her sweetly before trying to rest.
_ ✽ _
As promised, during the emergence Ikaris and Sprite show up. You duplicate as soon as you see him, you launch at him with your replicas surrounding him and taking turns in puching him around. The look in his face when he corned Ajak in that cliff, her face at the realization of what was happening, Sersi's tears for him, Druig's and Gilgamesh's death, all of that is coming back to you. The pain he has caused you and your family is all coming out at this moment in the form of revenge.
After he takes down the domo, and Thena joins in the fight. You are sure that you will get him this time, at least the satisfaction of seeing him in this position is almost enough. You want more, and so does Thena as she goes for the last deviant. You have no idea how many times all of you have taken Ikaris down only for him to get back up and attack you. Ajak has been holding on her own very well, with Phasto's techonology you've been able to fight beside her. But the fear you feel as Ikaris goes after Sersi is huge, some part of you knows that he is incapable of hurting her. And it is confirmed when she completes the final puzzle and is able to continue with your plan; killing Tiamut with her bare hands and your power convined.
The glorious victory against them only makes the promise of being with Ajak forever more real and emotional. You embrace her as soon as Tiamut remains frozen in time. Your lips reach for each other and seal your forever with a passionate kiss in the presence of the celestial as you still feel its power connected to you. It feels like nothing but pure bliss, you have not just gained your ever after with Ajak, but you have saved this world and all its wonders. You celebrate your victory with the love of your life and your family. And soon you find yourself in another adventure with Ajak as both of you leave to explore the universe in search of others.
“Will you miss this world?” You ask before you leave the planet Earth’s atmosphere.
“No, I have everything I need here with me.” She smiles as she pulls you close.
“I feel the same way.” You grin with your eyes. “I’d follow you ‘til the end. Whenever that is.”
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lady-eny · 2 years
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TITLE: ON THE NATURE OF DUTY (11/17)
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Some tags: AU - Spies & Secret Agents, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Mikenana, Minor Zekehan, Minor Character Death, Reincarnation
Summary:
When Levi, Eldia’s best agent, is sent to kill the marleyan star analyst Hange Zoe, he doesn’t expect what awaits him.
Forced to team up with his enemies to save the world, he soon starts losing sight of his duty. Despite reminding himself how much he hates her, Levi can’t prevent his brain from scrambling at her mere presence, ever closer…
Perhaps it’s that he knows her from a long time ago…
CROSS-POSTING ON: AO3
Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 Notes: Thanks for reading! Coming next... Levi meets Hange's father figure (kind of?) Feeback is very welcome!!
Chapter 11
“So, four eyes. Yet another love for a titan gone unrequited, I see,” he said, the chosen words implying something way deeper than what was outward.
“We’ll be friendly in no time,” she said, sounding… idle. So unlike her. “Hey… Levi. Do you think they’re all watching us? Will we be able to stand tall among all our dead comrades?”
Her question turned him into ice. He recalled words too similar, uttered by someone who had been gone for a long time.
A sense of foreboding struck his heart. But no, it was surely nothing—he brushed it away fiercely.
“… Don’t you start talking like him too.”
He wasn’t going to let it be something. 
D-5
Levi takes puffs of air, trying to gather enough energy to roll the man off of him to no avail. He has to get to her, and yet everyone and everything seems to be hindering him from achieving such a thing.
“Y—You’ll… kill… me,” Levi elaborates so forcefully that his voice shakes. “I… can’t… breath.”
Fortunately, the man does hear him and seems to be unwilling to suffocate him. He stands, allowing Levi’s lungs to expand and take a deep inhalation. With a palm on the floor, Levi gets to his feet and is pushed by a wave of dizziness. He blinks it off, his vision sharpening around the familiar man. 
“Klaus,” Levi greets him with a nod. If he needed further proof of Erwin’s implication in this, it’s right in front of him. Erwin only sends Klaus to the most crucial, classified missions. He wouldn’t be here without his direct orders. 
And Klaus never fails. 
If Klaus is here to prevent his interference, Levi is going to have to hurt him, and badly. Basically, everything he doesn’t want to do right now—or ever.
Klaus’s gun remains aimed at Levi, who raises his hands in apparent helplessness. At the same time, his pupils travel around the place, looking for an easy way out.
Would he be able to run away without engaging in a fight?
“What are you doing here?” Levi probes, feigning ignorance. Apart from the blocked door and the swinging one, the room’s corridor is the only free exit. But wouldn’t he be running in circles? 
Argh, he hates yachts. 
“You don’t know?” Klaus inquires with his perpetually nasal voice. He’s smiling—but not the friendly kind he wore when Levi saw him mere days ago, the night before undertaking this mission. Perhaps because Levi’s never been his opponent until now. “You didn’t seem shocked to see me.” 
Fuck it, it’s now or never. Surprise is the best approach he can ideate as of now. 
Levi dashes to the door. He’s almost at it when bullets clip at his heels, then at the wall ahead of him. He hurls himself down to dodge them. Revolves on the floor just in time to avoid one in his skull. His brain registers far screams from outside, which make him rise to his feet again.
“Don’t believe that because Erwin ordered not to injure you we won’t.” Klaus stands as a barrier in front of the door. “So stay still and let us do our job.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Levi advances to Klaus, slowly, slowly. Yet Klaus notices. 
Klaus shoots at his arm. Levi darts to the floor just in time. At least he’s close enough now. With a sweep of his leg, Levi knocks Klaus down and the gun flies away. Before Levi can snatch it, Klaus envelopes his arms around him. Levi struggles until his muscles are sore and motionless. He can’t beat him using force.
He’ll have to be more observant. Faster.
Klaus grunts. “I’m not the one you should be confronting. You should be helping us!” 
Levi props his leg up and strikes a nearby table, which falls to them, glasses and their content breaking over their heads. 
“Eek!” Klaus loosens his hold, only a little bit, but enough. Levi exploits the opportunity to slip off. Klaus doesn’t let him go much. The massive man falls on him again. Takes him by the hair and smashes Levi’s head on the floor, once, twice, until the glass underneath breaks and Levi inhales water. 
He can’t breathe. 
Klaus jerks Levi’s head up enough for him to take a lungful of air, then sinks it again. Levi pats the floor until feeling a shard of glass. Blindly, he stabs Klaus’s arm with it. The man whines of pain and lets him go. Gasping, Levi crawls away and grips the gun. His head is a whirl, and yet, he propels himself towards the door. 
From the floor, Klaus’s hand encircles Levi’s foot and halts him. Levi falls. Turns and shoots Klaus in the arm, in the leg. He gets up and rushes to the door, but Klaus grabs his ankle. How can Klaus resist so damn much, with equal force? Now he knows why Erwin always keeps him close.
Levi kicks and kicks to get rid of him, but Klaus is nothing but tenacious. He’ll never let him go unless he’s totally incapacitated, which means he has to be. Levi points the gun at Klaus’ head, but his hand quivers. 
Klaus is an eldian, one of his own. If he kills him it’d be treason, and most importantly, something Levi might never recover from. Even if not a deadly shot, one more could pass the line between life and death for the man, and Levi would be the executioner who sealed his fate. Levi’s gaze strays from Klaus’s bulging and determined eyes to the door, and back. 
Long and piercing cries leak into Levi’s ears, spreading liquid panic from his stomach to his brain until it’s choking him. What’s happening outside? His heart soars within his chest and impatience rips clean through him. He can’t waste more time deliberating; Hange could be dead by now, and… they don’t get it, but this is wrong. He can’t let them make such a mistake and kill her, the idea too troubling to even conceal. 
Levi tries and tries to release himself, but no matter what he does, the man has a steel grip. Levi doesn’t hesitate more. He points at Klaus’s arm and shoots, feeling a pang somewhere inside of him. The man’s hand loses strength and liberates him. Klaus shrieks, hugging his arm until he’s unconscious. Levi pauses, his chest tightening at the sight of his fallen comrade. 
He did this to one of his people… How could he? Guilt slices his heart at the sight. Although it’d be better for him if Klaus dies and doesn’t give away what he just did, Levi only wishes for him to survive and recover. 
Levi glances at the lonely door ahead, and sprints to it. His head is beating with pain and his muscles are worn out after fighting Klaus, but he has to push on. The clomp of his steps rushing down the long hallway’s wooden floor follows him, nonsensical thoughts echoing in his headwalls with every stride further.
I can’t let her be taken away again. 
His heels barely meet the floor, his brain not quite making sense of the words dripping from his mind. 
I won’t remain passive again. 
The sudden terror and conviction provoked by the statement throb stamina in his muscles. His heart pounds in his ears along with his gasps. 
I’ll see you again. 
Adrenaline comes to its peak as he reaches the bow, out of breath. The first thing he notices is Tybur’s bodyguards, those tall men who looked like an impenetrable wall, dead and scattered on the floor. Willy Tybur himself is lying down, immobile. 
He closes his eyes and exhales quietly after spotting brown hair and an onyx dress sliding away from a man. Hange is alive. He made it on time.
She’s against five men, though, and he can’t believe she’s holding up. There’s something recognizable in her hand, the knife-looking weapon with the thick handle and a button-like piece of metal bumping up, the one she hides under her pillow. 
One man grabs her hair down, another points a gun at her. Levi shoots at him, and the man collapses to the floor. Levi shoots another one, and another, but soon runs out of bullets. He tosses the weapon and pounces on a man who’s standing up after Hange kicked him in the face. He’s grasping a gun. The man punches Levi’s jaw with it and Levi tastes the blood on his tongue, feels the ache of his teeth. 
The man tries to dip the gun in Levi’s heart. Levi forces the man’s hand to a side, muscles protesting for the effort and teeth grinding painfully. He pokes the man’s eyeballs and pushes. A high-pitched moan rumbles in his ears, but Levi doesn’t budge. The man gets out of his reach and flings him to the railing. Levi crashes against it and slides to the floor. The man sits on him and closes his hands around Levi’s neck, strangling him. 
With most of his energies drained from fighting Klaus, Levi’s strength isn’t enough to get the man off of him. He tries to loosen the grip, but the lack of oxygen has him dizzy already. A white veil falls over his eyes. 
Suddenly, there’s a sound, like a balloon losing its air. The man falls dead next to Levi, revealing Hange’s figure behind and her knife firm where the man’s back used to be. Levi sucks air and coughs, his throat a scorching tangle. 
Hange places her hands on his cheeks, eyes watery. “Are you okay?” He nods, but is shaken by a coughing attack. When the shaking subsides, she wraps her arms around him tightly, so much that it hurts—almost as if she was worried, as if she cared about his well-being. She yelps, “I thought I killed you, too…” 
What’s she talking about? “W—Whaat…” He pants and has to gulp to ease the burning in his throat. Hange backs off and stands up. With a hand on the railing, he helps himself to his feet and looks around. The back of the man who was strangling him is… fuming. “What the…?”
Levi examines the other people on the floor. At least seven of the bodies exhibit the same wound—a stab on appearance, yet with the skin around it burned. 
Twup-twup-twup. The overpowering noise makes him tilt his head up. A helicopter is nearing the yacht. Even when distant, it’s growing closer with every passing second. Levi squints at its dark shape; is it a friend or an enemy? 
Who is a friend anymore? 
“We have to go,” Hange shouts. Her hand is pressing onto her side, which looks bloodied on attention, but was imperceptible from afar due to her dress’ darkness. She’s like a savage; hair tousled, lips pale, scratches on both arms, and an ugly bruise on the chin. If the marks on the fallen agents correspond to her weapon, she alone got rid of at least half of them. 
Impressive. Levi’s eyebrows flash up in admiration, but they morph into a scowl a second later. She appears to be at the edge of fainting. 
Her gaze drops overboard. “We’ll have to jump.”
He bobs his head and sweeps a trembling hand over his forehead. “We wouldn’t get anywhere swimming, least with your wound.” Muffled screams come from inside, and he knows it’s a matter of time before someone appears. Someone that might not be a friend. 
Levi storms into the cockpit, where a man—the captain, he assumes by the uniform—is unmoving, face to the floor. His unsteady hands bump into everything, trying to find something useful. Here. 
He drags an inflated raft outside and hurls it onto the sea, oars behind. It lands on the dark liquid mass with a splash. 
“Wait, Zeke!” Hange bends over herself, flinching. 
Levi makes a face; Zeke disappeared as if the earth—or sea—had devoured him. “There’s no time. They could be coming for you,” he says, voice hoarse. He inclines to check Tybur’s pulse: he’s alive. As might be expected, Erwin wouldn’t dare to kill someone as important as he is.
“We should take him with us,” Hange murmurs, bearing herself onto the railing and hunched over it. 
The effort of carrying him, the force to subdue him, the sure chase they’d face later if they kidnap him… “We can’t,” Levi concludes. 
The helicopter is almost over the yacht. Gladly, the darkness continues shielding them.
“Wh—” She crumples to the floor. 
He hurries to Hange and takes her in his arms. Looks overboard with apprehension… there’s no other choice. He jumps to the water, the coldness swallowing him instantly. His body goes limp as if he was the injured one. Desperation overtakes him as he feels life drifting away from him, he can’t breathe nor think. Illusory images and sounds inundate him, of gunshots and a forest and so much pain… Ghost hands grasp his wrist and pull him up until he’s out of the water, pure air entering his lungs like sweet nectar. 
Hange. 
She’s awake and swimming to the raft. She climbs it and lies on her back, worn out. Levi tags along and climbs right behind, the water weighing on the material of his suit. On the firm surface of the raft, he looks at her side, panting. 
“We should make a tourniquet or something.”
Hange doesn’t open her eyes to reply, “It isn’t… deep. Just a graze.” And then her conscience is gone again. 
Levi takes his jacket off and wraps it tightly around her abdomen. His white shirt is so thin he gets chills while grasping the oars. The nearest shore should be to the east. Even so, they can’t come back to the one they came from. 
My cellphone. Levi puts it out of his pocket; wet and everything, it still works. He seizes it, his favorite device and faithful companion. But also, his accurate locator. Levi holds no doubt of the signals it must be emitting, informing Erwin his exact location and where he’ll be, should he keep it. What will happen if he lets it go? It feels more of a betrayal than everything he’s already done tonight, as he’d be willingly giving his back to his people—not in a rush, but out of thought. 
And for what?
He takes a look at Hange and sighs. For the world, that is. They gave him a mission, which is to ensure the fall of the current menace. He can’t do it without her, and therefore, he can’t do it with Eldia if they’re so vehement about killing her and not hearing reasons. Later, they’ll understand… won’t they? When this ends, they’ll undoubtedly get it and forgive him.
Levi isn’t entirely convinced by his own rationalization, yet has no other choice than to accept it. He’s already too deep into this, and his choices can’t be undone; more so, if given the chance, would he redo them? If given the change, would he prefer to stay still and allow his people eliminate her from this world?
His leg muscles clench. No, he wouldn’t. This is the only way. 
He lets go of his phone, and it sinks into the water to never be seen. It feels as if he’d just ripped out a vital part of himself. 
Levi starts rowing. From a distance, he observes the helicopter landing on the yacht. The darkness of the sea envelopes them, and whether it’s by choice or confusion, no one follows them. He struggles for hours until the raft hits the ground on the pale sand of a desert beach. 
“Hange,” he calls her. He notices her lack of glasses; somehow, her lashes appear even longer without them. His palm cups her cheek. “Hange,” he repeats, softer. 
He blinks, and images without order explode behind his eyelids. He can’t differentiate between Hange’s unconscious face and one with an eye patch, wide alive yet with a bittersweet expression. 
“So just let me go, will you?” She says, a smile plastered on her mouth while on the verge of tears. 
And it changes again. The same face but with two healthy eyes and a wide smile, begging him to get her a titan, whatever that is.
“Only one!” She pleads, batting her long, beautiful eyelashes at him. 
And another one, she with a baffled grin looking at the sea, something potentially dangerous on her hands…
Levi shakes his head; he can’t discern what’s here and what isn’t, between here and there—wherever there belongs to. His chest constricts painfully, and he clutches his head in his hands, forcing those strange visions and emotions to recede, to leave him alone. He pushes them away, and all of a sudden, they’re lost. 
He forces his mind into focus. They don’t have much time. Hange’s survival is the priority, and she’s wounded, and… She opens her eyes, and he feels himself drown in relief. 
“Are you okay?”
It takes a few seconds for her somnolent face to break into an alert one. She jerks up into a sitting position. “Where are we? Where are they?”
“They didn’t follow us.” 
The sky is clearing and the sunrise is coming soon. Drizzle has descended over them, swept along by brisk breezes.
“They truly want me dead,” she utters with a low thread of voice, almost as if she hadn’t believed it until now. “Why would they hurt Tybur if he works with them, though?”
Because this was Eldia’s doing, not the criminals who also want you dead. He limits to study her; she doesn’t look as pale as a couple of hours ago. Her bottom lip is barely ticker than her top, and there’s a line of lighter skin over her left eye, brightened by the gray glow of the morning. Levi does a double-take—how didn’t he note that before? 
Mesmerized, he delineates it with his fingers, and it feels overly natural and appropriate. The touch ignites an ache in his head, but also joy. Hange’s petrified under his touch. 
“I hadn’t seen this before,” he mumbles.
She speaks hoarsely, yet more composed than a minute ago. “It’s a birth scar, it’s usually hard to notice with the glasses, and—”
“No, it was completely imperceptible.” He’s certain; he’s looked at her eyes enough to know it. How is this possible? He would have seen it, had it been there before. 
“It’s always been there,” she affirms, a line forming between her brows. “Don’t look at it, it’s hideous.”
He trails his fingertips down the scar to her cheekbone, to her throat, to the top of her chest, and then the tiny triangle of shadowed cleavage. Her breath catches, eyes sparkling with an emotion he can’t identify. He’s breathing swifter, pulse accelerating. His fingers continue their travel back, trailing up her jaw and cheeks. 
“I have one, too.” He sounds raspy, as he whispers, “But fainter. Barely a line.”
“I know.” The words rumble in her throat, sending electric jolts from his toes to every part of him. She lifts her hand and traces the line over his right eye, shooting goosebumps through his skin, making him shudder. He feels as if they were trapped in this confined space that’s purely theirs, where nothing from outside can reach them.
Her trembling touch leaves tingles behind, and she lets out a long breath that blows right through him, carrying her ambrosial scent. He meets her hazel eyes, which he’s now convinced possess flecks of light in their depths. They’re so deep and intense on him... Her gaze slides down and pauses at his mouth, her lips parting. Levi leans in, the brush of heat of her breathing against his upper lip making him close his eyes, feels the hot skin of her cheek.
And he leans in further… until Hange’s head turns at the last second, popping their bubble. He bounces back when she bats his hands away from her. 
Her jaw flexes. “Who knew we were to be in this location, but you, Mike, and me? I only informed Zeke at the very last minute.”
Levi stiffens. “You must be cold. I’ll—”
“Yes. No! Don’t change the subject!” Hange glares at him, these beautiful eyes burning with anger. “It was them, am I right? Erwin, Eldia. You told him, even when I asked you to trust me not to do it?” Levi winces. Too smart for your own good, he muses. “And you know it. What, did you call them already and they’re coming for me now? Are they hiding nearby?” She glances around. 
That lands across his heart as a punch. “I didn’t know! I realized tonight, and they aren’t here. I won’t call them.”
Her glare remains unwavering on him. “Why don’t you do the job now? This is your perfect chance. My wound won’t do it.” Her eyes are distraught and intense, hurting, as she pushes her hair away from her face, sprinkling sand and exposing her neck. “But you could choke me.” Levi strives to swallow. “Or take a rock and hit my head, or—”
“You’re the one giving me ideas.”
He can sense the air between them vibrating with tension, their glares all but attacking each other, until her face breaks and tears roll down her cheeks. A flicker of pain awakens low in his stomach as she looks up at him, eyes welling with yet more tears.
“Will I ever live in peace?” She covers her eyes with an arm.
The question rattles between them.
If you never abandon Marley, yes. But that’s not what she wants to hear, so he tells her instead, “You will. Trust me.”
Her eyes, framed by glittering drops of tears on her lashes, encounter his. “I trust you with my life. I’ve already done so…” His chest clenches, and then gets overly warm. They float in silence until a beam of light emerges from the horizon. 
He presses his lips together before saying, “For now, it’s best to avoid sharing our whereabouts with anyone.” She nods, sniffing. “We should call Mike, though, and—”
“Didn’t you say we shouldn’t contact anyone?”
His eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t you trust Mike?” Is he becoming too trusting? He didn’t even hesitate about it, just concluded they had to call him, that he was trustworthy. 
Jeez. What’s happening to him?
“I do,” she edges in. “It’s just that… it might be extremely risky to be around me…”
“We’ll only call him. We have nothing with us, so we need his help anyway. First, we go to a hospital…” He rises and shakes the sand off his pants. 
“No hospitals!”
Levi eyes her. “You need a doctor to look at your wound.” He scratches his nape. “How… What was that weapon?”
She searches around. “Uh, I lost it. Err—Well, I made it.” She grins, and the tension on his shoulders dissipates. She’s smiling again. “Wasn’t it amazing?”
“It was…” Deadly. “Clever. It burned from the inside?”
“No, not exactly.” She waves her hand. “There’s pressurized carbon dioxide on the handle. The trigger sends it through the blade, so when stabbing, it releases the gas—causing an internal explosion!”
Levi finds himself without words. When he finds them, he admits, “I’m glad you didn’t have it on our first meeting.”
That earns him a slight smile. “Me, too.” The smile wavers. “Ahhh…. Levi?”
“What?”
“I think I do need a hospital. I’m about to fain—”
He catches Hange before her head hits the sand, and holds her to his chest. 
A hospital, indeed. 
 ***
 D-4
Hange is sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed, the blue light from the arch around it projecting an ill shade on her already pallid skin. Levi wishes he too could muster enough calm to get some rest and shut up his mind. 
He feels bad. Not bad ‘I’m going to throw up’, but ‘I fucked everything up and I’m going to be unemployed and I probably betrayed my land which means awful things will happen and now I’m drifting in the air without knowing what to do’, kind of bad. Elbows on knees, he sinks his head in his hands and groans—internally, as people are sleeping here. 
Eldia won’t forgive him, not if they lose their chances at eliminating Hange and she leaves to strike his country yet again with a fool-proof strategy. Does keeping her alive really mean the death of many of his compatriots? Are they in the right and he in the wrong? 
She isn’t a bad person. He knows it. Thus, she wouldn’t voluntarily participate in such reprehensible acts, would she? But… isn’t that what she’s been doing all this time? At least that’s what he’s been told, despite most of her work being unused per the calm sea between them of these last years. Maybe, when her people are at stake, she also resorts to extreme measures. It’s not as if he can’t get it; that’s what war is all about, right? It strips humanity from even the best people, transforming the purest souls into murderers. Hange could wish for a different world; no war, no deaths, and no enemies. But the circumstances are stronger, and the world terribly difficult to change by a solitary voice, even if it’s one as scandalous as hers.
And knowing all that, isn’t protecting your own people first and leaving behind those who harm them the right thing to do? It’s his duty, after all.
After this mission, he repeats to himself, rubbing his eyes roughly. The now bandaged wound on his forehead, from which they extracted more than one splinter of glass, itches by his movement. After this mission, I’ll no longer be bound to her, and there will be no reason to oppose my orders. Then, I’ll be able to do my job, or let them do it.
The lack of conviction behind his thoughts is unlost on him, yet he ignores it. Lately, he’s been doing an excellent job at ignoring things; like the signs of Erwin’s involvement, which he must have recognized before. Or the constant headaches that afflict him, which could very well mean he needs to visit a doctor soon to hear bad news. Or even what happened a few hours ago, when he felt and behaved in discordant ways. And then there are those strange mirages, along with the feel of her smooth skin under his fingers, his heart hammering against his chest… All of that he ignores, and vanishes to the gloomiest corners of his brain.
He suffered a rather strange lapse, that’s all. They say the ocean has a certain special energy, right? Something that captures you and makes you do weird stuff. That was it.
While he’d usually believe beyond stupid to blame the ocean or something supernatural for what happened, how else can he explain those visions? It’s either believing that or concluding he’s falling into madness, so... the ocean is it. Makes complete sense, if you put your mind to it. Which completely logical and explainable phenomenon could it be, otherwise?
A nurse comes and, with a little device in her hand, scans Hange. A screen projects from it, showing her vital signs and more information he can’t read for his life. 
“She’ll get better in no time,” the nurse assures him, dedicating a tiny smile to him before leaving, just when someone recognizable gets to the door.
Mike bursts into the room. Levi watches him moving his head from bed to bed until catching sight of them in the back. He readjusts the bag hanging from his shoulder and approaches them. He stops before Hange’s bed and clicks a button on its edge that creates an isolating invisible barrier around them. The rest of the room shouldn’t be able to overhear their conversation now, and for some reason, that makes Levi stir. Mike checks Hange, from her closed eyes to the blue hospital gown she’s wearing. 
“Is she okay?” Mike asks with worry tainting his voice. Levi already briefed him on last night’s events, but he imagines how looking at a friend in this state could be everything but reassuring. 
Hange struggles into consciousness. She props herself into a sitting position as soon as she sees Mike. A moan escapes her at the sudden motion, which elicits a scowl from Mike. He steps closer to Levi and pauses to assess him with pinching eyes. 
“You let this happen to her?” 
Levi looks down at his hands, guilt jabbing his chest. Even when unaware of what actually took place, Mike isn’t far from the truth. He didn’t let them hurt her directly, but Erwin wouldn’t have had a chance if it wasn’t for his information. Nevertheless, Levi keeps his nonchalant facade under Mike’s damning look. If he ever nourished some idiotic hope of Mike reacting well upon hearing about Eldia’s hand in this, it quickly fades away. 
What did he expect, though? For Mike to behave as if they were friends? They aren’t. And receiving the confirmation of it doesn’t affect him. Not at all. 
“Calm down.” Hange recovers her unflinching expression and pats Mike’s hand. “I’m totally fine. This,”—she points at the needle on her wrist— “it’s to hydrate me and avoid infection. It was merely a graze.”
The blond crosses his arms and sags against the wall. “I should have gone, too. We’re in this together!”
Hange and Levi glance at each other for a single split second. When they arrived at the hospital, Hange woke up for a few minutes, and she was adamant about hiding their location from Mike, as he’d rush here the second he hung up the phone. Which he did, but anyway, Levi was insistent. 
“We need help to find a place to hide after all of this,” Levi argued.
“Hide? We won’t hide.” Even wounded, she managed to appear commanding while declaring that. 
Sometimes she could be exasperating. “With everything going on, I don’t think we have much of a chance at winning.”
She lifted a brow. “So? We should be used to that. We never win, sure. But if winning was the reason we do this we’ll be motionless in less than a second. We do this because there are things worth fighting for. Even if we aren’t going to win, we have to push on.”
Yikes. She was right, of course. “Then it’s more imperative we call someone.” They needed some sort of backup and resources—one doesn’t carry out a mission of this scale completely alone if it isn’t necessary. 
And it’s not like he was about to call Zeke. 
So, after settling her, treating their wounds, and stealing a phone, he dialed the number she dictated to him. However, none of them is entirely content with Mike’s presence here, either for concern (Hange), or discomfort (Levi). 
“That’s why I called you,” Levi interjects, in a not-so-subtle attempt to make peace. “Are you confident you weren’t followed?”
Mike nods. “Positive. Are you explaining now?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” Hange responds. “We went to Tybur and failed, and we keep failing because so many people know about us. Did you hear of Zeke?”
“I make a point of hearing the less of him I can.” Mike’s tone is colored with dislike. 
Thinking more of it, Mike’s presence here isn’t that bad. He’s resourceful, committed, and owns an excellent eye. Levi can’t blame him for putting Hange’s safety above anything else. It’s a good thing, actually—more so when himself, a so-called enemy, is nearby. It’s weird, thinking of himself as her enemy, but isn’t that what he technically is, and what he’ll return to be at the end of this mission?
Pure, unavoidable facts. 
“I hope he’s okay.” Hange exhales and joins her hands together over her lap. “First, I need my spare glasses, the phone, and did you bring my computer?”
Mike palpates the blue, cloth bag swinging beside his hip bone. “Everything you asked for.”
Hange puts on her new glasses—which are a faithful copy of her previous ones, with the same round slim frame. She extracts her laptop, opens it, and clicks a few buttons.
“You should rest,” Levi comments. She sends him a cutting glare in response. Or not. 
Her glasses reflect the screen, full of words, and later, what appears to be a map. 
“How’s my other request going?” She questions, steadfast gaze on her laptop. She behaves nothing like someone who just got injured and jumped from a yacht. 
Mike’s face falls. “Not good. I have all your team trying to get in, but Tybur technology is the best. There aren’t any holes in their security at all.”
“Yeah,” she mutters, absent-minded. “I didn’t expect them to succeed.” She outstretches her arms in a yawn, only to flinch and reach her injured side. Levi points a look at her, conveying, ‘See? Rest.’ She notices but opts to disregard him. “So, here’s the thing. I have Tybur’s number.”
Levi straightens on the chair. “You… How?” He thought she had lost the cloned phone? 
“He gave it to you?” Mike arches a questioning eyebrow.
“No. When he got… mmm… distracted enough for me to clone his phone, I sought the number.”
Levi folds his arms over his stomach. Something in her statement is bothering him, perhaps in her tone… “Distracted?”
How distracted was he?
She looks down at her laptop, attention laser-focused on it. “I merely saw it for a blink, but I think I remember it. Everything went so fast afterward…” Her eyes lose focus. She closes the laptop and puts it aside, adopting a grim expression. “I believe I know what they’re doing with the next attacks. The Tybur wristwatches the WCO has studied so far haven’t had any explosives, but there are new and upgraded lots every six months. I think the newest one, which came out yesterday, is the faulty one.”
Mike curses under his breath. “And what can we do? It must be all-sold by now.”
Levi agrees. Their popularity is only increasing, but as they didn’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily if they could help it, no measures have been taken so far. 
“I don’t think they’re programmed to explode randomly. If so, there would be explosions in almost every neighborhood. No, I think they’re programmed to respond to a precise signal that would only reach a particular area, like the public places from the last time. The thing is, which places? And would stopping people from being around, prevent the bombs from exploding? If we confiscate every wristwatch, wouldn’t they just resort to another plan, one we wouldn’t be able to foresee? The best thing would be to block the signal from being emitted, but…” She reaches up to stroke her temples. 
If only they knew the ones behind this, they could find their headquarters and therefore, the place where the signal comes from. But they don’t. Bitter with the awareness of his futility, Levi’s shoulders hunch. 
He never felt so useless before. 
“Is there a chance for the WCO to accept their demands?” Hange’s hands drop. 
Mike leans in. “Is it that bad? The deadline is in three more days. We can initiate urgent actions if we won’t make it, or—”
A blast from outside booms through the room. Levi’s heartbeat speeds like a horse in a race. 
“What’s that?” Mike goes to the door and peeks out from the threshold. “Armed man got into the hospital!”
Dammit. 
Levi rushes to save her laptop in the bag. “We have to move!”
Hange hesitates. “They could be coming for someone else…”
“With our luck?”
Ideally, she’d be recovered enough to run, but sadly, they live in the real world instead. Levi scrutinizes the bed; it has wheels. Perfect. He pushes its side and it slides. Mike holds the serum holder and follows him as he pushes the bed out of the room. 
“What?” Hange squirms on the bed. “You’ll bring my bed all around? I can walk!” She shifts her legs out of the bed while they rush through the corridors. Nurses, help-androids, and patients turn to the rushing trio with astonishment, hurrying out of their way. “We’re attracting too much attention!”
They enter an elevator. Hange’s bare feet touch the floor the second the doors ding closed. She tears the needle out and sways a little. 
Looking giddy, she extends her arms to keep her balance. “Wow.” Blinks rapidly. 
Levi stabilizes her with a hand on her elbow. “You need to lie down and rest,” he grunts.  
Always the stubborn, Hange bends to rummage through the bag and puts out a change of clothes. “I always need more rest. It’s never stopped me.” She begins sliding the hospital gown from her shoulder—jerks up and looks at Levi, whose eyes are still on her. She makes a spinning motion with her index finger. “Turn around!”
Levi instantly spins to face the elevator door. Mike taps his back with a barely contained laugh. 
They exit to the night outside by the emergency door. Mike slips into a classic-style blue wagon while Levi takes the backseat and Hange buckles up on the front one. Mike starts the rowdy engine and smoke glides around and among them. 
Levi coughs. “Are you sure this jalopy drives?”
It abruptly starts with a screech. 
“It’s the best thing I could get with the scarce time I had,” Mike justifies himself. “It looks like they didn’t see us.”
One shot destroys the rearview mirror on Hange’s side. 
Ah, fuck. 
“How did they know we were here in the first place?” Levi looks back and shades his eyes from the potent car lights. A black offroad truck follows them closely behind. 
Hange huffs, “Tybur fabricated all the cameras around every city, except Eldia. Is there a place to hide from them?” 
For once, Levi’s glad of living in a place out of such a monopoly. Or used to—who knows how he’s going to be treated after this.
The truck behind them pushes forward, denting their back. Levi’s head bounces off the seat sharply. They nearly veer off the road, but the car keeps advancing. He massages his neck to alleviate the pain while Hange rummages through the bag. She pulls out a gun. 
“Give me one,” Levi requests.
“It’s the only one.” She pulls it out the window and shoots at them, managing to hit their front glass.
Levi growls. He hates when his responsibility rests in someone else’s hands. 
They struggle through the traffic. The truck following them catches up, lining up next to them. A gun sticks out the back window of the truck. Levi coils, but Mike changes lines in an angry swerve before they shoot. Despite its old age, their clunker endures, even when it’s undoubtedly slower than the others. They mix with the hundreds of cars around. 
“Where do I go?!” Mike yells. 
Another truck intercepts them, appearing out of nowhere from their right. It hits them, sending them slewing round. Levi’s side sticks to the door by the force of their whirl. His stomach turns inside out until they stop dead. There’s a clicking noise every time Mike tries to start the car, once, twice, but it doesn’t react. A scorched redolent chokes Levi.
Levi eyes the car doors, muscles twitching. If the engine doesn’t react, what will happen? Are these people from Erwin or Tybur? Would they end up dead after this, or would they merely be taken to interrogation? 
Neither option sounds attractive.
The car finally kicks off with a roar, and they sail. Turn a corner, but are faced with another truck waiting. Mike reverses and runs into another. Levi looks around in search of a way out. Squeezes the seat in front of him in frustration.
“Now what?” Hange asks, sweat permeating her sickly pale skin. 
Levi wants to shove Mike away and take the wheel himself. The only reason he doesn’t is it would take too much time. 
“We have to plan, now!” Levi shouts. Mike keeps looking ahead, calm. He pushes up the sleeves of his sweater. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Improvising,” Mike says. That word is almost foreign to Levi. It means they’re screwed. “Agárrense.”
Levi doesn’t get enough time to think what the fuck he said. 
Mike turns the wheel, and the car screeches with effort. It drives straight to a street across from them, with long stairs going down. The interior of the vehicle jounces wildly as it flounders down the numerous steps. A rattle, as if everything inside of the car was agitating, fills the air. They make it to the street below, though Levi’s sure they left half of the car behind. Mike hits the gas down the empty street.
They drive off on the clear road without spotting any other attacker. Even so, Levi’s head continues spinning, as if something had stirred inside it with all the shaking.
“Well thought out,” Hange applauds faintly, her temple against the window frame.
Levi closes his eyes to steady himself. Gets to croak, “Where are we going?”
“I was hoping Mike would know. Somewhere we can stay safe and plan?”
Mike tilts his chin sideways as an answer, pointing to the window. 
Feeling a little less lightheaded, Levi surveys around. They’re going through a dark tunnel, the curved cement walls reflecting the lights of the cars in lines. Upon the surface, lenses of cameras follow them. They leave the tunnel behind and get into the open air. From his window, Levi makes out small, cramped houses; dilapidated and neglected buildings are connected by tin bridges overhead, a view complete with smoke and mud puddles on the sidewalk. 
Where are they?
“Tybur has no eyes here,” Mike explains. “I doubt he knows it exists.”
“It’s ideal.” Hange, with her attention also on their surroundings, sets a finger on her mouth. “We’ll have to see how I can get to meet Tybur again.”
“No,” Levi rejects at the same time that Mike asks, “He’ll want to?”
“I made a good impression.” One corner of her mouth kicks upward. “But even with that and acting clueless about the attack, I don’t think he’ll want to see me. Too suspicious.”
Levi snorts. “Suspicious is an understatement.”
“He’ll meet me anyway,” she declares, looking ahead. “If only for the information I can provide him.”
“On what?”
“On Marley. He won’t be able to refuse.”
Levi’s rendered speechless. Does she have information important enough to tempt Tybur? If so… shouldn’t he be doing something to access it?
Eventually, the car stops in front of what seems to be a mansion that, regardless of its size, doesn’t clash with the overall environment. Cracks cover the walls and gray tape the windows, from which an orange glow spills anyway. A sign hangs from its entrance.
Kirstein’s guest house. 
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@devintrinidad has asked me to expand on my theory/headcanon that Cutthroat has synesthesia.
...Unfortunately, it was from a while ago, pretty much my first theory as soon as I found out about Cutthroat’s “red halo” thing. I justified and explored it back then, but I’m a bit rusty. That being said, it’s still absolutely the way I personally look at it, which is why I don’t mind making a post to talk about it, even if it won’t be as “informative” or coherent as if I’d written it when I... knew better, I guess, lol.
This is still going to be long, but I feel like both my followers and viewers of the Akudama Drive tag are starting to be used to it... (/ω\*)……… (/ω•\*)
So, my theory is basically that Cutthroat’s “different perception of the world and people” - and as such his red halos - is a form of synesthesia. Of course, the writers of Akudama Drive didn’t expand on that at all, but I like to imagine a world where they did.
My view of it is that Cutthroat genuinely views the world in black and white, which can be interpreted as either 1. an effect of his synesthesia or 2. genuine colour blindness. Again, this wasn’t explored enough - does Cutthroat see the colour red aside from the halos, or does he just like knowing that something is red? It’s most likely the former, which could still be colour blindness as I believe that doesn’t have to mean seeing anything in black and white - I myself am not colour blind, though. Of course, it’s very likely that the black and white images we as viewers were shown were nothing more than a visual, in which case Cutthroat isn’t actually colour blind (or his synesthesia doesn’t have the effect of removing other colours), but I personally lean into the interpretation that he is the most.
Mind you, I wholeheartedly believe that Cutthroat’s synesthesia isn’t real-world synesthesia, but instead anime synesthesia. By that, I mean that a real or likely occurence was modified or expanded in order to be turned into a plot device or power.
My main inspiration to look at Cutthroat’s Thing™ as synesthesia is that when I watched Akudama Drive, I had recently watched Canaan. Canaan, the titular character (and also a character in 428: Shibuya Scramble & its extra content), has synesthesia, which in the context of the anime, is used practically as a super power. (Similar to how shows with a positive representation of an autistic character tend to use very specific symptoms and elevate them to the point of a super power.) I honestly liked Canaan’s interpretation and representation of synesthesia, with the knowledge that it is obviously not extremely realistic. Due to Cutthroat’s unrealistic speed and ability to kill - it would fit in well, in my opinion, to give him synesthesia in a similar specific and unrealistic way.
(By the way, I loved Canaan and recommend it, but you have to play Shibuya Scramble first, a fun game imo~)
To my limited knowledge, even in real life, there isn’t just one specific way to experience synesthesia (though there are obviously shared experiences between those who have it), and it takes multiple forms...
(By the way, I am not educated enough to know if it would make the most sense to use “synesthesia” or “ideasthesia” to describe Cutthroat’s made up version of the experience - as I actually... didn’t know about the second term until just now. It would appear to be complex to define what is what exactly anyway, as synesthesia isn’t the simplest phenomenon to explain and diagnose.)
...So here is, roughly, how I view Cutthroat’s experience: Cutthroat associates, without realising, certain elements of a person’s behaviour and/or appearance to the visual of a red halo. He himself, as we were shown, most likely doesn’t know what it means or where it comes from, but it is the way he has always perceived the world. Based on Swindler, it is most likely her strong conviction or her devotion to others that made him view her red halo - in which Cutthroat would have been able to pick up right away from small details about the way she behaved, moved, and/or spoke, that others wouldn’t notice, that she was the kind of person he associates with a red halo.
Later on, as this belief, behaviour, convicition, whatever it is, becomes stronger within her, he picks up on it with more and more ease, leading to the halo becoming larger.
It... possibly makes more sense in my head, but hopefully this gives context as to my point of view. I don’t think Cutthroat’s Thing™ is an actual super power, but instead a very personal perception of the world based on things he picks up about people without necessarily realising it. What makes it (anime) synesthesia is the fact that these elements he picks up are represented, to him, by the visual of a red halo. Instead of putting it into words in his mind, he thinks it as the red halo.
This also gives room to discussion on what Cutthroat thought of that peculiar perception of the world/people. What led to his obsession with it? (On its own, someone who isn’t Cutthroat could have accepted the red halos as part of their personal perception and went on with their lives without making it such a big deal.) Is it the fact that he saw no other colour than red? Or is his obsession with red something that came first, leading to his (anime) synesthesia ignoring every other colour?
Lastly, one could wonder what he means when he says that he likes the colour pink, or other colours that contain red but are not red - does that mean that he likes pink enough to the point of being able to visualise it [assuming he does see the world in black and white and is not physically colour blind], or does he like it because he only sees the red in it? (Are Hoodlum’s clothes red to Cutthroat? Well honestly, no matter how you look at it, he probably doesn’t care about Hoodlum enough to even acknowledge him. Also, probably not, since he knows Pupil's eyes are specifically red.)
To conclude, it may not be right or make sense, but that’s what inspires me to think about. Even if it turns out not to be synesthesia (though I don’t believe any canon work will ever confirm anything else about Cutthroat), the way I think about it will still be inspired by synesthesia.
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fncreature · 1 year
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I posted 724 times in 2022
That's 468 more posts than 2021!
186 posts created (26%)
538 posts reblogged (74%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@theseasonismerrybutimnot
@yb-cringe
@flyingfish1234
@theminecraftbee
@friendlyneighborhoodcreature
I tagged 334 of my posts in 2022
#save - 123 posts
#lmfao - 19 posts
#rb - 13 posts
#tma - 9 posts
#creature.save - 8 posts
#save save save - 7 posts
#oh my god - 6 posts
#peter parker x reader - 6 posts
#avengers x reader - 5 posts
#peter parker imagine - 5 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#hi my name technoblade hy’pixel skyblock way and i have long ebony black hair (that’s how i got my name) with purple streaks and red tips t
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
HI HELLO HAS ANYONE ON HERE FINISHED THE A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER TRILOGY I FINISHED THE LAST ONE AND WHAT THE HECK I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THAT
39 notes - Posted March 9, 2022
#4
me: *hears about Jon's leg injury*
Me: oooOOOOh what... what if... what if I give Jon a cane????? ;)
48 notes - Posted August 1, 2022
#3
I can't compare to the Godlike
After meeting the Eternals, Peter makes a decision after seeing you and Ikaris
A/n: I am so sorry for not being active bc I realized I’m in a mildly toxic friendship and I’m working on it and then I felt more guilty for not posting but then I was in isolation and yada yada yada. I’m a Ikaris simp now and I watched Eternals three days ago.
ALSO! If anything here disagrees with NWH I am sorry about that, but I can’t go and see it cause Omnicron so I’m just waiting for it on Disney+ and it’s not my fault. Not set in any movie just kinda “Ajak died okay the Eternals and Avengers meet now”
“Banner, have you located the signal?” Bucky asked.
“No, not yet. I’ve never seen anything like it” Bruce shook his head.
You turned to Peter. “Maybe you’d like to give it a look, Petey? Sure Bruce wouldn’t mind another eye on this”
“She’s right, I wouldn’t” Banner called.
“Shut up” Peter laughed, giving you a playful shove, but going up to Banner’s station anyway.
“Do you guys got any theories on the damn thing?” Sam asked.
“Not yet” Bruce told him. “On the other hand, in this world we live in, nothing makes sense, so it really could be anything”
“Yeah, he’s right” You remarked.
“Then keep me updated. Y/n, make sure the science nerds keep me updated” Sam ordered.
“Sure thing, Cap” Peter mumbled under his breath.
You let out a small laugh.
~
It was the beeping that woke you up.
You groaned, turning over in your bed and sitting up, before grabbing your phone.
“Hm?” You groaned sleepily.
“I need you to get to the compound as soon as you can. ASAP” Bruce’s voice said excitedly into your ear.
“Bruce, it’s-” You paused, checking the time. “Five in the f*cking morning”
“Yes, but- Just come, okay? I need to call Sam, Bucky and Rhodey. I’ll see you. Oh! And pick up Peter, will you? Or he’ll pick you up, don’t care” And then he hung up.
You figured something had happened, so you quickly got dressed, and as soon as you were done, there was a knock on your window.
You pulled it open with a smile. “Right on time” “Thanks” Peter smiled. “No suit? Or mask?” You asked.
“The sun’s barely started to rise, it’ll be fine, c’mon. Let’s see what Bruce’s so excited about”
~
“So, Bruce, what all the- Who the f*ck are you guys?” You asked as you saw Bruce, excitedly talking with a group of people in intricate suits. And a kid.
“Finally! Y/n, Peter, these are the Eternals. Eternals, this is Y/n and Peter, two of the other Avengers”
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51 notes - Posted January 23, 2022
#2
I Hate Loving You
A/n: First fic of 2022! And also finally a Peter Parker oneshot.
Felt like angst, and that's what you get.
Warnings: Suicide attempt, cussing, reader says she hates themself, does paranoia count as a warning?
They hated you. Peter, and Ned and MJ.
They stopped conversation whenever you entered a room, and would always change the subject immediately. But they were the only people who would even talk to you, so you hung out with them to get some human interaction.
But the longer you did it, the harder and worse it got.
You walked over to them in the hallway, backpack slung over your shoulder.
“So I think I might-” Peter stopped when Ned nudged him, turning in your direction.
You looked down.
“Hey guys” You mumbled.
“H-hey” Peter stuttered awkwardly.
The worst part was Peter.
Because he was absolutely adorable.
But he hated you.
“So Ned, do you wanna do a Star Wars marathon this weekend?” Peter said, obviously changing the subject.
“Sure” Ned replied, and you walked off to your locker.
You could hear them laughing after you left, and you knew that they were laughing at you.
~
“Hey MJ” You said, and MJ looked up from her phone, immediately shutting it off.
“Yeah?” She responded.
“Er- Nevermind, sorry”
You could feel her eyes on the back of your neck.
And so it went on. They tried to hide it, but you could tell they hated you, and you hated it.
You didn’t hate them, but you hated being around them.
It was awkward and annoying and they were the only people who would talk to you.
That was why you were up here.
That was why you were on the roof of your apartment building, your finger hovering over the send button on your phone.
I know you guys hate me. I do, don’t try and deny it. It’s obvious. So I’m doing you all a favor. You won’t have to see me again. Ever You read it over a million times, still hesitant to send the text to them.
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and hit send.
See the full post
52 notes - Posted January 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Okay, I'm sorry that this isn't my usual style of content, I'll make a sideblog as soon as I figure out what to call it (lol) but anyways.
What if after Tango wakes up after the first night of knowing Jimmy's his soulmate, he feels an itch on his back. He ignores it, and goes bout his day until, when he and Jimmy are building their home together, Jimmy asks, "Tango, what is that?"
He has no idea what Jimmy is talking about. "On- On your back" Jimmy tries to clairify. Tango still doesn't know what he could be talking about. Not until Jimmy says, "Your wings. Your small, coal-stained, canary wings"
142 notes - Posted June 20, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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mqdilen · 22 days
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⭒ .๋ ࣭ ⊹ ˖ 「𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭.」
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fandom.: bungou stray dogs (contains !spoilers! concering the beast manga + stage play)
synopsis.: chuuya visits dazai in the hospital after going on a rampage, and the two of them "chat"
pairing.: [beast au] port mafia leader chuuya x dazai \ soukoku
cw.: toxic relationship, hurt / no comfort, angst (?), reversed roles (chuuya kinda acts like dazai and dazai kinda acts like chuuya)
genre.: one-shot, no second part
word count.: 2.7k (approximate reading time; nine minutes)
note.: so this has kind of taking longer than i expected and i was severely struggling in the beginning, but anyway!! i still hope you enjoy the story! also, please mind the tags! + this story is heavily inspired by a twitter post from @Atarayo33 and i simply created their idea / drawing into a longer fanfiction due to a tiktok! (so credits and much kudos to them! link to the post) should i cross-post this on ao3...?
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☪︎
dazai’s eyes fluttered open as he finally regained consciousness, his expression seeming bleak but at the same time devoid of any emotion. it was his usual expression. the one he gave to everyone who passed him on the street or watched him while he waited for his coffee he ordered in that small café nearby. just an ordinary expression. nothing special that would ever captivate anyone if it weren’t for the charm he held.
dazai had yet to figure out where he was, and as if to make it even more difficult to pinpoint his current location, his vision is rather blurry, and one of his eyes is obscured by a somewhat rough material that he presumes to be his bandages. although his bandages didn’t bother him too much. he’s used to them by now after all. what bothered him more was the fact that all his memories were somehow a big mess.
yet, he clearly remembered jumping off the port mafia building, in fact, he remembered everything that involved that jump. from atsushi’s strident voice ringing in his ears, to the thrilling sensation of the adrenaline surging through his veins, to his insides feeling like they’re climbing up his torso. a wisp of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he dwelled in the memories and stared ahead, seeing nothing yet but a strong beam of light.
the bright light seemed heavenly to him, but it also had something unusual about it. it hurt him, making his eyes water. dazai’s mind began to wander, his once visible smile now tinged with a faint despondency. disappointment settled in, casting a melancholic shadow over his thoughts as he expected a more serene scene after his death. then again, no one ever said heaven was a fun or prepossessing experience, did they? heaven... what a stupid thing to believe in. and how stupid of him to actually think that the blackest of blood, port mafia blood, could ever belong to a place like that. perhaps that was why, as if he were standing too close to a flame, the light burned his eyes, completely absorbing the darkness in them. after all, everyone knew that he was and will never go to heaven, but to hell. his own personal hell. the universe he created.
dazai blinked, able to make out some of the things in his room now, like a white ceiling and a large window, the sun facing him as it slowly disappeared behind the horizon. a sense of dread settled over him as he realized that it wasn’t the sunlight alone that sent a rush of agony through his body, or the thought of being in hell, but rather the fact that he was indeed still alive. his body ached and the comforting warmth he once felt from the hospital bed swiftly gave way to an icy chill that pierced through his very soul—much more fitting to an individual like him.
dazai raised his trembling hand as he meticulously counted each of his fingers, desperately wanting to confirm that he wasn’t alive and that this was just an overly realistic dream. he had once heard that dreams were full of anomalies such as having an extra finger, so the possibility that his head was just playing a trick on him was an option that had to be considered; that gave him hope. however, the pain coursing through his body and the pungent smell of alcohol mixed with the undertones of artificial fragrance were enough of a hint for dazai to know that his suicide attempt had failed again – as usual.
he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, wondering how he managed to keep surviving. he thought this would be the one. the one and only universe where he could die in peace, knowing that he is still alive. but it seemed that this universe was just as cruel to him, forcing him to live with the burden of knowing that the only person he ever considered a friend despised him.
the faint sound of footsteps approaching his hospital bed could be heard, pulling dazai out of his thoughts. he couldn’t determine to whom they belonged. something about the footsteps felt amiss. they didn’t belong to atsushi, as dazai initially suspected, given his desperate plea not to take that fateful leap. nor were they the menacing strides of akutagawa, who probably harbored a somewhat deep desire for revenge after the torment inflicted upon his sister.
he sat up, slowly, as his neck brace would not allow him to move properly. his eyes widened slightly as he distinguished the head of a familiar person peeking out from behind a bouquet of flowers – red roses to be exact. the rich, smoky yet soothing scent that trailed behind the small figure, drowning out the antiseptic one, made dazai feel slightly light-headed. “chuuya…” dazai whispered absent-mindedly, his voice barely audible. “i see you’ve finally woken up.” a tender smile adorned chuuya’s lips as he carefully set the roses aside only to stare at them for a moment.
dazai’s throat tightened as he took in chuuya’s appearance, noticing the black coat he supposedly inherited after his ‘death’. “chuuya... why- how am I still alive?” dazai inquired, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. he seemed puzzled. the ginger eventually lifted his head up, gazing at him with a hint of affection in his eyes. “what do you mean? you’re alive because i saved you, silly.” dazai’s eyes sank slightly and he looked away for a split second, feeling conflicted. was it so sinful to wish to die? was there really no universe where he was allowed to die? chuuya, on the other hand, seemed amused, his smile never faltering. “what, did you really think i wouldn’t find out that you were trying to kill yourself all along? did you really think you could fool me? your partner?” he drew out the last syllable, emphasizing it as a dark shadow fell across his face, rendering him somewhat colder.
dazai’s lips parted slightly as he felt oddly compelled to answer him, yet the words seemed to die on his tongue and he remained silent instead. eventually, he lowered his head and stared at his trembling hands, as if he could find a pleasing answer in them. chuuya’s smile seemed to waver a little upon dazai’s reaction.
at some point, he took a step closer and clasped his hands behind his back. “i also cleaned up the mess you left behind. you know... i killed them. all of them. i killed again and again and again and again…” he said with a faint tremor in his voice, tightening the grip on his hands. dazai’s body tensed and his eyes widened in disbelief. he knew quite well to what extent chuuya’s abilities reached, what he was capable of and what not. yet, an inexplicable sense of unease slithered up dazai’s spine, causing a slight shudder within him. “i killed your friend, too.” chuuya added in a mellow tone, gawking at his expression. “w-what?” dazai’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at chuuya as if he didn’t understand a single of the words he uttered. though chuuya only tilted his head, a grin still plastered across his lips as he observed dazai.
dazai’s heartbeat gradually picked up its pace as he repeated the words in his head, refusing to believe them. his head was spinning and his mind was flooded with memories of oda and him together. they were beautiful moments, each of them unique in its own way. he recalled oda eating curry, his favorite food, or playing with sakura, one of the orphans he took care of. he remembered their first meeting, how he treated his wounds after yet another failed suicide attempt. though at that time, he was glad he didn’t die. after all, oda had become one of his closest friends; his only friend. but those memories felt misplaced in this universe, just like dazai himself.
eventually, he found his composure and exhaled shakily as he felt the mattress sink in. chuuya was now sitting beside him, his smile seeming more sinister than anything else at the moment. “you’re lying. i made sure that all connections to us were cut, so he has absolutely nothing to do with me. we’re not even friends!” chuuya’s eye twitched slightly as he listened to dazai’s words, knowing that he was blatantly lying to him. “oh, really?” his expression shifted a little as he gently took dazai’s hand before squeezing it, slowly applying more pressure. it didn’t take long before dazai winced in pain and slapped his hand away. however, chuuya hardly felt anything considering that dazai had little to no strength at the moment. then again, dazai knew that chuuya wouldn’t hurt him seriously. after all, he had picked up on the signs quite quickly.
“don’t touch me.” dazai raised his voice, glaring at the redhead who was drawing closer to his face. a hint of disgust swept over him as he could practically feel chuuya’s breath fanning across his cold skin. eventually, dazai twisted his head away and sank deeper into the pillow, trying to escape chuuya’s intense gaze. chuuya had other plans, however, as he cautiously brought one of his hands closer to dazai’s face, gently caressing his cheek before tilting his head back. dazai’s body stiffened at the ghostly touch and he stared into chuuya’s eyes, which seem to convey an unusual degree of fondness. something he has rarely expressed for anything ever since their first encounter.
at some point, dazai turned his face away again and tried to slap him across the face. but chuuya grabbed his hand at the right moment and instead intertwined his fingers with dazai’s, pushing him further into the mattress as he leaned over him, his hands on either side of his head as he pinned him down. dazai’s teeth grinded together, his throat constricting with a heavy gulp as the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. somehow the weight of his actions, leaving his partner - betraying him even - like everyone else did in the past, beared down on him. it seemed as if none of the two of them would ever be granted a happy ending. not even when they are together.
“why did you do it?” dazai snapped, causing chuuya to blink a few times, catching him off guard for the briefest of moments. “ah, i’m glad you asked. i’ll tell you. to put it simply... i was jealous. jealous that you would care about someone who hates you so much. who can’t even look at you properly without being repulsed. it’s a shame, truly. i just wish you would look at me the same way you look at him... but now that he and all the others are gone, i won’t have to worry about that.” a crooked smile graced chuuya’s lips as he averted his eyes in embarrassment and pulled away, a faint blush ormenanting his usually pale cheeks.
dazai lowered his head, clenching his jaw as his fingernails dug into his skin, drawing some blood. he had never been good at tempering his emotions whenever oda is mentioned. “did you really kill odasaku just for that?” dazai murmured, his voice sounding colder than usual. “oh, that’s such a nice nickname. do i have one too?” chuuya dodged the question, unimpressed by dazai’s frustration. he expected it. tears welled up in dazai’s eyes as he scraped the bandages from his face, breathing heavily. “you’re lying! you’re just messing with me! he’s still alive! he has to be!.. you... i will kill you, chuuya! you had no right to take him from me! to take him from the only universe where he is alive–” chuuya listened carefully to dazai’s words, his expression oddly hard to read as he conveyed no emotion whatsoever. a barely audible sigh escaped his lips before dazai’s fit of rage was momentarily silenced as chuuya grabbed his chin and kissed him. dazai’s eyes widened in shock and he seemed stunned for once in his life.
chuuya’s lips were awfully soft, sending dazai into a delirious frenzy as he was distracted by the sweet taste. the corners of chuuya’s mouth curved into a faint smirk, and he seemed pleased with dazai’s reaction as he closed his eyes. eventually, he tightened his grip on dazai’s chin to hold him in place and deepened the kiss. dazai’s shock lingered, yet he couldn’t ignore the suffocating warmth welling up in his chest or the quickening of his heartbeat. still, he could never forgive chuuya for what he’s done, which is why he tried so hard to break away from the sudden kiss. in the end, he managed to wriggle his hands free and tried futility to push him away, accidentally knocking over his iv bag and ripping out the tubes that were connected to his veins. with a sharp and unpleasant sting, the needle forcefully exited his skin and he writhed in pain, his lips parting ever so slightly. the expected scream, however, is abruptly stifled as chuuya’s tongue sensually slided into dazai’s mouth, eliciting a low moan from him. chuuya’s grin widened at the sound of dazai’s voice, while dazai’s cheeks seemed to flare.
with his mind barely functioning, he clinged to chuuya, his eyes slowly falling shut. a single tear traced its path down his cheek as a profound sense of self-disgust washed over him. though he found solace in chuuya’s touch, oda’s face haunted every corner of dazai’s thoughts, leaving him no room to fully enjoy the sensation chuuya was giving him. not that he would allow himself to actually crave another human being’s warmth anyway. dazai was far too stubborn for that. no matter how much he longed for someone to finally fill the heart-shaped void in his chest, he knew that no one would be naive enough to actually try and navigate through the darkness that engulfed him, especially now that the only person who had ever been capable of soothing some of his agony was dead. and chuuya certainly wouldn't replace the last bit of him left in his heart.
chuuya didn’t seem to be thinking straight anymore as he put more force into the kiss and grew more and more desperate. to him, this was all he ever wanted. in a moment of weakness, he bit dazai’s lower lip, breaking the delicate skin. it darkened rather quickly, leaving behind a visible bruise and a smear of crimson at the corner of dazai’s mouth. chuuya pulled back after needing to catch his own breath for a moment. he held up dazai’s chin, seemingly engrossed in the way his tears mingled with the small amount of blood, while dazai barely reacted to the stinging sensation the salty wetness caused. “oh, how beautiful. you really are the best…” chuuya cooed, his voice dripping with affection as he admired how gorgeous dazai looked. his dazai. a wide smile adorned chuuya’s lips as his pupils dilated at the pure sight of him.
dazai on the other hand was left speechless. he didn’t know what to say, nor what to feel or what to look at. he was completely overwhelmed and all he wanted to do was scream. scream at the world for being so full of injustice, scream at himself for being so useless, scream until his burning throat dulled all the other painful sensations, and scream until he had no oxygen left in his lungs. his eyes darted across chuuya’s face, unable to settle on a single place as he tried to drown out his terribly tranquillizing voice. everything felt so wrong, so surreal. his heart was throbbing with an indescribable amount of pain, and he felt like he'd grow manic if he had to look at chuuya any second longer. while he was once dazai’s sole reason not to end his miserable life, he is now the only reason why he doesn’t want to wake up ever again.
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↪thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! MLIST
copyright © mqdilen 2024 all rights reserved.
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grimmshood · 8 months
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i was thinking abt angst but couldnt find this in my writing tag so im posting it again. zarahjiwoon ficlet based off events in an old rp server, where ji-woon went kind of insane and kept getting into losing fights with people. theres murder in it too i guess
wordcount: 1129
she’s been huffing and puffing about something ever since the two of them got back to the hospital. ji-woon’s been humming the whole time, more occupied by some vague elevator music buzzing in his ears among the entity’s whispers.
she has him sitting on a gurney, medkit lying open next to him. she’d say he’s not hurt too bad, but she’d be lying. the gunshot wounds in his thigh are glaringly obvious from the blood seeping into his bright maroon and yellow pinstripe pants, and the bruises on his shoulders and abdomen have turned dark purple. there are several knife wounds across his chest and his lip is split, blood running from his nose down past his lips and onto his chin. he hasn’t said a word about any of it.
“you cause me so much trouble.” she grumbles. she shoves his trench coat down to further expose the bruises on his shoulders and look for any other cuts on his arms. when she doesn’t find any more, she looks up at him.
“take your pants off.” his eyes widen as his cheeks grow red.
“a little more forward than usual, aren’t we?” he teases. she furrows her brow, looking back up at him- then returning her eyes back to the fabric stuck to his leg, she notices the slight tent.
“ugh. that’s not what i meant. i’m just going to cut this off.” her face flushes as she reaches for a pair of scissors and roughly folds up a portion of his pant leg before cutting away. she tears the rest of the fabric off before starting to look closer at the wounds, lifting his thigh to look for where the bullet passed through his leg. she silently took the pant fabric and began wrapping it tightly around his leg.
“you really can’t feel any of this?” she ties off the fabric, then looks over and picks up a piece of gauze before wiping down the blood from nose.
“not at all!” ji-woon responds with a smile. she grunts, grabbing another piece of gauze and shoving it in his hand.
“put this in your nose for now.”
he obeys her order, sticking the gauze in and letting her push his head back, tilting his chin up.
she continues to clean his wounds, stitching what she can and dressing the rest.
she puts her hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to face her again. he looks incredibly stupid, but he put himself in this situation.
“i’m tired of seeing you get hurt. I know i did part of this.” she frowns. “but you keep making people upset. it doesn’t help that they already don’t like you.”
“it’s okay. i don’t need their approval anymore, i have you and her!” he gives another stupid boyish grin when he speaks. “nothing hurts now. i can’t feel anything, not even the pain.” she can feel her heart begin to crack. he doesn’t seem to care at all, even when people want him dead, and it hurts to watch.
“it hurts to look at you like this. i know you said you don’t feel anything,” she puts her forehead to his, trying to look into his eyes- “but even if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.”
“it shouldn’t. i can survive it, and it makes Her smile, you know.” he glances upwards.
“i don’t care if it makes her happy.” zarah lets go of his face. “the stuff you’re doing makes everyone upset. and it makes us fight, and it fucking sucks. it’s miserable.”
“it’s entertaining, though, isn’t it?” he smiles again, and this time it doesn’t look so cute.
she braces herself, clenching her fist. calm down. don’t be rash. he stands up, picking up his coat, walking past her and through the halls of the hospital. she turns, following him out. he passes the front desk, stepping outside into the snow.
“it’s cold.” he spreads the coat out, wrapping it over her shoulders. she stares back up at him, bare chested and bandaged, noticing the way he shivers but doesn’t react to the cold. it doesn’t make sense. it’s stupid, and it’s hard to let him keep acting like this.
he takes a step forward, and everything freezes. she clenches her fist, staring at the blank smile on his face before she grabs him by the arm, feeling the sluggish force of time fighting against her. she pulls him forward, pushing him to his back on the ground.
and time begins again, her straddling him as she has one hand keeping him pinned to the ground.
“that’s the first time you’ve done your thing with me, isn’t it?” he giggles, giving her yet another smile. she clenches her fist again, raising it up in the air as it begins to vibrate and glow blue- but he’s still the one she loves, even if he’s not acting right. she hesitates, lowering her fist.
he pulls a hand up, dragging the hand pinning him down onto his neck.
“it’s okay. if you’re doing it, i won’t fight back.”
she bites back the sob in her throat as she looks down at him, smiling so happily even when she’s thinking about hurting him. it doesn’t feel right, but she can’t handle him like this. she misses when he was mean, when he’d actually fight back.
his hand travels up her arm.
“it’s okay. you can cry. it makes it better.” he puts his hand out towards her free hand, gently pushing her fist open. “it’s more intimate do it like this,” he continues, pulling her hand onto the other side of his neck.
she sniffles, squeezing her eyes closed.
“my love. it’s alright. i’m not going to be mad at you. i’ll come back.”
he pushes her hands further, and she slowly grips his neck tighter.
“like that. you’re a good girl, you know. everything will be okay,” he smiles again. he puts one hand on her cheek, gently brushing away the tears welling in her eye.
“i don’t know. i can’t do this. i need you to be yourself again.” her head falls, hands squeezing harder.
“please…don’t be upset.” she begins to sob, feeling his windpipe close under her grasp.
“i need you back so we can fix this. i can’t do this by myself.” she presses even harder, squeezing her eyes shut. he gasps, and she keeps her eyes closed as she hears him fall unconscious. she keeps her hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing as hard as she can.
when she feels his hand loosen from her cheek, she opens one eye to look. she leans down, pressing her ear to his chest to check for his pulse- when she doesn’t hear anything, she loosens her grip.
“i’m sorry.”
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Appreciation post for Paul the delivery guy
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
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Not Your Charity Case
prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?
word count: 6.2k 
warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt
other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing
Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)
+++
You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.
Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.
It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.
Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.
When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.
When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.
You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.
From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.
The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”
You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.
He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.
You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”
The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”
You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.
It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.
You sign, “What are you trying to order?”
He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.
He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”
You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”
The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.
You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.
The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.
“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.
“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.
+++
Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.
With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”
You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”
His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”
“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.
Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.
You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.
His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.
Well fuck him then.
***
You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.
It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.
You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.
As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.
Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.
After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”
You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.
Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.
You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.
A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.
“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.
He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.
You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.
You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”
There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”
Your brows furrow, “I did.”
“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.
You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”
“What do you need?”
He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.
You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 
***
Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.
You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.
You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.
When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.
***
The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.
‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’
After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.
You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.
***
You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.
After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.
Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.
The reply text comes shortly after
Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.
Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!
I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.
You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.
I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?
Sounds great. Thank you again x
Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?
***
He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.
You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.
You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”
He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.
You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.
He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.
“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.
The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.
“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 
Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.
It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.
Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.
Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”
Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.
The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.
Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.
“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.
His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.
He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.
He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”
You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.
“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.
“Yes.”
“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.
He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”
You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”
“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”
“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.
“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.
***
The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.
“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.
You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.
A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”
“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.
The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.
Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.
You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”
Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”
“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.
Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 
Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.
“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.
You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.
“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.
“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 
Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.
Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.
***
Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.
“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.
“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.
“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”
“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.
“I’m not very trusting of people.”
You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”
“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.
“One more chance, Styles.”
Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’
***
It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.
You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.
Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”
You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”
He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.
You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”
The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.
He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.
The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.
“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.
***
The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.
Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’
You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.
Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 
He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **
You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.
Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.
Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.
Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.
You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.
The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”
Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.
Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”
“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.
He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.
You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.
Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.
His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”
“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb
His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”
**
You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.
You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.
With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.
Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.
Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.
“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.
You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”
“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.
It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.
You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.
“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.
“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.
“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.
“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.
“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.
Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.
It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.
You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.
Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.
When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.
Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”
Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”
Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 
You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.
It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.
All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.
He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.
Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.
Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”
You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”
He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.
So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.
Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.
Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.
Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”
Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”
Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”
Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.
You wanted everything from him.
“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.
“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.
“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.
You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.
You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.
He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.
His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.
“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.
You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.
As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.
When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”
You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.
His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.
Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.
Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.
Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.
Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 
You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.
You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.
You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”
With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.
“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.
“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.
You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.
Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.
Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.
When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”
You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.
You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”
“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.
“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.
And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.
Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.
When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.
Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.
It takes you a moment - then it hits you.
Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.
You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.
When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.
The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.
---
Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.
“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.
“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.
“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.
“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.
“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.
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