#all life depends on ending others and such

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice (1)

VA! MC x OM! Characters

TW: Eh it's more fluffy than smutty I'd say, but minors DNI. Loads of random lore for the sake of immersion. Now to brainstorm the rest of the characters.

INTRO

Tagging: @romaissa @eliciana @your-favorite-god @april-notthemonth69 @ikevampharem @k8tznd8wgz @futureittomain @m-majoko @the-auguer @yurinayumi @i-am-empress-irish @deepazur @rippedbutnotamasterpiece @pomegranateboba @ra1ns70rm @anjodedesgostoeerros @sammywo @annoyingbiscuitathleteland-blog @ourfinalisation @creativecupcake @snowthatareblack @angelofbooksworld

"After a freak accident, you and a group of 5 people get teleported into a fantastical world together. Who will you team up with to try and leave this place? Or will they convince you to stay and have a new life with them here instead? Or will you stumble across the biggest secret that this new world holds...?"

You read out the summary for them at a group dinner at Diavolo's castle. Apparently, it was to celebrate your debut as a VA. They all clapped and bombarded you with questions. You tried to answer as many as you could without any spoilers.

They were supposed to have already started playing the game but the game servers got a little overwhelmed and had to go under maintenance with so many people downloading and making accounts at the same time. So Diavolo hosted this party instead.

"So how many endings can you get with a single character?" Simeon inquired.

"Well on an average there's around 12 endings per character, but there's a varying number of endings depending on the character you choose. I'm not sure I remember for all of them-"

"We just want to know yours." Belphie smirked.

"Oi come on, it makes it sound like you're all just going to play my character, don't do that! The other characters are also incredibly well written!"

The sheepish grins and side glances told you that they were clearly going ignore your last advice.

"Honestly you guys, one of the characters here has a teleportation ability, one can read minds, and another one has insane fighting skills - the only thing you know about my character is that I don't have a name!"

"Omg this means they are definitely building you upto to have the most OP ability of them all!" Levi exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh yes that's usually how it goes in these tropes. The most unassuming character ends up giving you the secret ending." Solomon nodded in agreement.

"Both of you, shush! Just play the game normally okay?! You will get to interact with all the characters anyway until the second phase." You reprimanded, sighing, knowing no one would listen anyway.

Lucifer - Saved by the Belle

"Before Tyla takes us home tomorrow, would you like to spend your last day here with me, Lucifer?"

Lucifer and you worked with loyalty and rigor under Tyla, an old world Sorceror. It was because of you two specifically that Tyla's magic was powerful enough to create a portal back home. Your character was so much like you - it felt like he completed this whole journey of freedom with you, and not just an image on screen.

> "Of course, MC. In fact...I would like to spend the night with you too."

MC blushed on screen, looking away and nodding. "Oh? Well then... I'll look forward to it."

He enjoys this way more than he thought he would. He visits for the last time, all the places you both had been together. The first tavern, the first forest path, the first temporary abode - the HumbleBee Inn.

> "It's late. Should we go back here again, for old times sake?"

"Why not? Maybe they'll accidentally put us in the same room again and get overbooked so we have no other choice. Maybe this time it'll be a bit more...eventful." You said with a sly and knowing smile as you skipped ahead.

Lucifer's knee jerked upwards, hitting the table. Just what kind of lines are these? And what are those expressions? Who else was in there listening to you when you recorded this? The way your voice sounded, Lucifer was convinced you were thinking about someone special. If only you saw the effect you were having on him.

> "I've been holding back all day. Forgive me if I'm too rough."

Lucifer pushes you against the wall, caging your body. You blush in the dark, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. It was driving him insane. He could feel his pants getting tighter at the crotch.

Last time he endured the sexual tension of sharing the bed with you, constantly trying avoid your body even though he was desperate to feel it's warmth. This time there wasn't any reason to deprive himself.

"It's okay...I can take it. Please don't hold back..."

Oh hell, you were about to be the death of him. These...are these really the sounds you'd make in bed? Godamnit you are ruining his mind. He can't relax until he's jerked off now. And it's all your fault.

The next couple days, you notice Lucifer hesitates to keep eye contact with you. In fact, he has a rather visceral reaction every time you simply call his name, standing at his door. Only he knows how badly he wants to pull you into his bed to ravage you - practice your lines with him, why don't you?

Mammon - Stranded Together

"Guess they didn't want either of us huh, Mammon?"

Nah Mammon was mad at this ending. He gets why the group left him behind - he made too many questionable choices like stealing the last reserves of food or money (so you never went hungry), running away from the monsters instead of staying and fighting with the group(with you ofc so you wouldn't be in any danger), finding new shelter and not telling anyone (except you).

> "I'm so sorry...it's because of me that they left you too. You did nothing wrong yet...no this will not stand! I'll go threaten them into taking you too!"

"Mammon wait- no don't! Alright fine I was lying! They didn't leave me...I chose not to go!"

Mammon was stunned. He stared at your character blushing and looking elsewhere while holding onto his arm. His heart beat just a little bit faster.

> "Wait...what? But you wanted to...don't you want to go back and keep looking for your family?!"

"Who knows if the family I was looking for even exists?! But you...you are real. And you are so kind to me, and so great. So..."

Your character moved in closer and closer to him. Mammon leaned back too far from the screen, falling backwards on the floor. He was not ready for what was about to come.

"If I really want a family that bad...I can just make one here...with you. But only if you wanted that too ..."

> "I do! Of course I do! We can both find work and home in the kingdom now that big monsters are all dead! I'll be yours and you'll be mine!"

Mammon pressed it on instinct, not knowing his character was gonna grab yours and pin them to the ground. His face burnt up in excitement seeing you all cornered like this. You blushed and whispered as you leaned in to kiss him.

"Hehe...Mammon...I'm all yours already. But there's others ways you can claim me if you like..."

Your sleeves fell loose, and off your shoulders and his hands began to wander. Mammon almost screamed the house down, grabbing at his sheets, humping his pillows, struggling to look away from the screen. But he couldn't stop.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you tomorrow at the breakfast table?! Yet, Mammon re-played that part at least 30 times. And now every time you whispered to him in class, Mammon had to grip his knees and stop himself from imagining the unholiest things.

Leviathan - Power of Friend-ship??

"We did it! We actually did it, Levi! Can you believe it?! Look even the people are cheering for us!"

Levi punched the air in glee, he definitely must have gotten the best ending right?! That was such an intense combat scene - he almost cried when he thought you got swallowed by the Giant of The Depths, then he watched you burst out of its stomach with all the other victims while he slashed through its neck. You and him - the two underdogs dealt the final blow. At this point, every other character was shipping you two together.

> "Let's go Army of the Third Lord!"

MC cheered and high fived him from the screen, while the rest of the group danced in celebration! Ah MC had already become one of his favourite characters of all time. He had already preordered the action figures, posters and a body pillow (yes the ecchi one).

"Come on Levi, won't you join the celebration feast!? Everyone is calling for you!"

Oh no this was Levi's nightmare. Loud and crowded parties - but it was you asking him to go, what if he missed out on an important secret ending. Just to be safe he chose a neutral option to see what you would prefer.

> ... I'm not too sure.

"Then...would you like to celebrate in private with me? I know a quiet place with a good view."

Levi almost fell out of his seat. It's happening. This is where he unlocks the hidden erotic ending. The blush on your face, the way you held out your hand for him to take - biting down on his knuckles in excitement.

> I'd really prefer that! Thank you!

You smile and nod, leading him by the hand to a nearby pond. The moonlight shimmered on the water, the reflections dancing on your skin as you both lay down next to each other. Levi could feel himself falling for you all over again.

"Look Levi, in the pond! The Gloriees are back! Aren't they beautiful?"

Levi looked at the pond in awe, glowing orange fishes swam around in the waters, jumping in and out. He watched the fishes swim around the hand you put in the water. It was like you and hundred Henries in the water.

> "So beautiful..."

"They are my absolute favorite....they have the same color as your eyes..."

Your hands reach up to touch his face, pulling him closer and Levi feels all his self restraint jump out the window. He tried to grab and kiss you but ended falling in the water with you instead.

"Oh? I didn't know I excite you so much... don't worry, it makes me really happy..."

You rose from the water, laughing and coughing slightly, your entire body now laid bare through the transparent white cloth. And if that wasn't already bad enough, he heard your moans as his character started going at it with you in the lake. You were so professional, so skilled at it...he thought he was prepared for it but he clearly wasn't.

Levi couldn't resist jerking himself off there and then, soiling his computer screen with light ropes of his cum. Now every time you announced you were going to shower, this image just popped into his mind, giving him instant boners at the most unfortunate times. And god forbid he sees you walk out of the shower with your hair wet - he'll have to rush to his room to hide that he's creamed his pants.

Satan - Bridge to Televithyia

"Satan, I will be waiting for you always. I know if fate wills it, I'll definitely get to see you again."

Satan cursed himself for this ending, almost chucking his phone at the wall. His magical powers no longer worked since the portal now connected him to his own world. And while you could use all your magic here, it would lose all power in his world. With both worlds needing help after a long and destructive battle, you both knew it was selfish to abandon your either of them - especially since you two were the only Great Guardians left.

> "I will find a permanent path between our worlds. I swear upon my life, MC."

Damnit this game had better not cut his story short. He was willing to keep going, trying to fix the playthrough so he could make a good ending out of this. Just you wait MC, he's not letting you go. A part of him wanted to go into your room and hug you, just to make sure you're there atleast in real life.

Satan rubbed furiously at his eyes as you waved him goodbye. His total playtime could rival Levi's. After gathering enough resources and magical knowledge - he could finally get started on creating the bridge. But to his pleasant surprise, he only needed to build half of the bridge, because there you were standing on the other - building your own path towards him too.

"Satan...is this a dream? Are you really back? Or is this another magical illusion again...?"

Satan blushed as you rushed to hug him peppering kisses all over his face. He had to physically get away from the game, walk around, and silently scream into his hands before he could calm himself down. Because he knew even better things were yet to come.

> "It's really me, MC. I'm sorry did I make you wait too long? I missed you so terribly...I have so many things to tell you about..."

"Come with me, we've been rebuilding our town. I know a place we can catch up...it's a special place I helped build with you in mind."

Satan follows you, your arms intertwined. You point out places to him - old renovations and newer projects. You tell him about everything that's been happening since he left.

How some endangered species came back to life, how the remaining smaller beasts were tamed and how the cursed were given peace. You stopped suddenly in front of a quaint little cottage.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I'm sorry I didn't prepare a separate room for you...because I thought you wouldn't mind sharing a bed with me..."

He blushes and grips your hand as you open the door to your room. He sees pictures of both of you on the wall and next to the bed.

> "You already built a home...with me in mind. *Smiles* Yet...the bed looks in it hasn't been slept in for a while? Did you get no sleep for the past few days?"

"Actually I haven't slept in the bed yet. I sleep on the sofa - I know it's silly but I really don't like sleeping alone in a place of two..."

Satan grips the phone tighter, as he makes his character push you on the bed. How sweet - you both get to enjoy it together for the first time. He climbs after you, trapping you underneath him.

> "Good thing I'm here now, MC."

He cups your face and trails his hands downwards, undoing some buttons on your clothes. You kiss his palms and tug down his collar.

"It's a pity though...I don't think we'll be using the bed for sleeping tonight afterall..."

He watched the screen, slack-jawed as I heard your sultry voice echoing through his room. He fell back on his pillow, hurriedly attaching his earphones. It proved to be more lethal. He could almost imagine you in his bed right now, kissing your way down his chest, while he fondles your bottom.

When you approached him later asking if he liked your work in the game, he had to cover half his face to hide the redness. He couldn't possibly tell you that he had downloaded snippets of all your moans and saved them to a secret folder. Or that he listened to them quite frequently.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me x reader #wow im uploading after 4 months and I did only 4 characters... #don't you just love when work stress and writer's block double attack and cripple your creativity entirely...yeah me too

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

#svthub #hoshi fluff #hoshi smut #hoshi angst #hoshi fic #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #hoshi #soonyoung smut #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #seventeen #soonyoung #seventeen flluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen fic recs #svt #svt smut #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt x reader #em.writes

[monsterousthoughts]

Centaur wife galloping as fast as she can while carrying you in her arms. You��re gripping onto her so tight her tanned arms are going white as you alternate screaming and panting heavily. She finally reaches the midwife’s cottage and lays you down by the door before hammering hard and yelling. The midwife opens the door angrily but her expression softens when she sees you laying there. Enormous belly resting on the ground between your legs, skin stretched so tight around your foal that you look like the slightest touch might burst you. Both you and your wife’s faces pale, yours with exhaustion, hers with terror. The older lady ushers you in quickly and your wife carries you to the double bed set up inside next to the fire as instructed. She has to duck down to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling but refuses to leave your side.

The midwife busies herself preparing hot water and clean towels as you’re hit by another contraction and bear down hard, gripping your wife’s hand hard enough to make her gasp but nothing seems to be moving no matter how hard you push or how loudly you scream. It’s been almost 2 days since your waters broke and you feel like if this goes on for much longer you’ll be torn in half. The midwife pushes a flask of brown liquid into your hand for the pain and a glass of something strong and alcoholic into your wife’s. You both drink eagerly and her face regains a little colour and you feel the aching of your muscles lessen. The midwife tells you how well your doing and gets down between your legs in preparation for the next push. You warn her it’s coming and brace yourself as she counts you into it and tells you to push. The contraction hurts less than before but seems to go on much longer this time until something moves inside and your wife gasps and says that she can see the head!

You switch back to panting and the midwife tells you she needs a big push on the next one, you brace yourself against the end of the bed and your wife’s strong shoulders and push like your life depends on it. Something slips in your belly and you can suddenly see the upper half of your foal between your legs, you keep pushing and the rest of him comes out all in one go with a loud scream and cry of pain on your part. The midwife cleans him up quickly and your wife helps him to his very wobbly feet. You’re so tired you can barely turn to see him but when you do a huge smile bursts across your face as you welcome him into your arms.

“He’s perfect”

You look up at your wife, the spitting image of her son, and share her expression of pride and happiness.

“He is… and he’s got your eyes”

“And your hair!”

You tousle the foal’s shock of chestnut brown hair and laugh.

When the midwife gives you the all clear after two days of rest you finally get to bring him back to your home. You feed him and put him down to sleep before sharing a moment of peace with your wife.

“I love him, but let’s not do that again”

“Agreed”

You both laugh together and hold on tight to each others hands as if you’ll never let go.

#terat0philliac #teratophillia #terato #monster fucker #monster kink #monster lover #monster smut #monsterfucker #monster gf #monster girlfriend #monster wife #centaur nsft #pregnant kink #birth kink #pain kink #fear kink

[lilithgreye]

Vietnamese Astrology Guide

• Remember that enemy signs are still fatally attracted to one another but will not last in the long run and things between them could end badly. The matrix tries to set you up and leeches off your emotional energy which is why it sets you up for failure in some cases

• Your numerology is also important and may overpower some of your astrology traits. The negative traits will only apply if you’re at a lower vibration in life

Vietnamese Signs

The Rat: favored by the matrix, if anyone hurts them the matrix will come after them, intelligent when it comes to how they navigate life, adapts to surroundings quickly, most likely to gain wealth (second to the goat, pig, and cat trine), determined, lively, manipulative, will leave out parts of stories where they did something bad, greedy, stubborn, always nervous

The Ox: grounded, often comedians, one of the least sexual signs unless they’re born under 1/5/9 energy, loyal, leaders, lots of willpower, strong, dependable, stubborn, blunt, gaslights a lot, can be violent, communicates poorly, too judgmental of others, petty

The Tiger: masculine, good health (unless numerology goes against this), sexiest sign, good fighters/strong, strong/muscular build/fitness model body, good at body building, go getters, smooth talkers, born leader, age gracefully, they have it the hardest in the usa (the usa was founded in their enemy sign year which is the year of the monkey), most likely to cheat (especially the men), childlike temper tantrums, know it alls, aggressive

The Cat: easily understands people/natural psychologist, observant, great designers, kind, creative, stealthy, quick witted, good chess players, third smartest sign, strong money maker, shouldn’t eat eggs or chicken, pessimistic, selfish, plays lots of mind games, often insecure

The Dragon: charismatic, adventurous, intelligent with the choices they make in life, energetic, powerful, confident, masculine, great fighters, bossy, rude, complicated at times, too demanding, arrogant

The Snake: wisest sign, intuitive, seductive, calm, second most influential/persuasive sign, observant, analytical, vengeful, best liars/manipulators, holds grudges, gets jealous easily

The Horse: very hard workers (workhorses), positive, animated, energetic, warm-hearted, has it the hardest in the matrix since its enemy sign is the rat (the sign the matrix favors), stubborn, superficial, self centered, impatient, impulsive, very delusional or in denial constantly

The Goat: most likely to gain wealth (even more than its friend signs the cat and pig), the most good looking sign, most influential/persuasive sign, nurturing/caring, romantic/flirtatious, fun energy, go with the flow, usually into both spirituality and religion (they dabble into it all), funny, high maintenance, manipulative, lazy, has a hard life, lots of anxiety, gullible, emotionally sensitive/the softest sign, needs to constantly be pampered, shouldn’t be aggressive because it ends bad

The Monkey: smartest sign, popular, funniest sign, sociable, intuitive, brave, very curious, plays games with people, selfish, liars, egotistical, untrustworthy at times, always trying to get in others business

The Rooster: confident, humorous, loyal, one track minded, passionate, independent, observant, outgoing, talkative, narcissistic, control freak, bad temper/overly aggressive at times, hypocritical

The Dog: very hard working, loves attention, loyal, honest, protective of the people they love, committed to the people they love, reliable, witty, helpful, overly aggressive, exaggerates stories, stubborn at times, always paranoid

The Pig: humble, strong money maker, responsible, luckiest sign, creative, classy, foodie/food lover, they love sex, tolerant, intelligent, friendly, easily influenced by others, promiscuous, overly materialistic, laziest sign, second most likely sign to cheat, naive, overly emotional, flaky

Vietnamese Elements

Metal: always looks out for loved ones, perseverant, independent, must create their own success, enjoys their freedom, enjoys comfort, stubborn, wants a romantic partner that they can control, too demanding at times, stubborn

Water: creative, intuitive, sensitive, adaptive, empathetic, sympathetic, gains others trust easily, likable, talkative, everyone feels special around them, tries to hard to make everyone around them feel happy which can lead to sadness, people follow their lead, influences others minds easily, passive aggressive, emotionally manipulative

Wood: optimistic, open minded, good at socializing, active, confident, organized, family oriented, good marriage partner, good friends/colleagues, gets attached quickly, always improving as a person, overworks themselves, passive aggressive, gullible

Fire: ambitious, determined, leader, strong, seductive, attracts people to them easily, enthusiastic, very giving in relationships, inspires others easily, affectionate, adventurous, competitive, optimistic, always stresses, impatient, gets mad quick

Earth: wise, patient, loyal, trustworthy, perfectionist, stable, always makes challenging sacrifices for others, good at giving advice, serious, goes based on logic rather than emotions, controlling

#vietnamese astrology #vietnamese astrology notes #vietnamese #astrology #astrology blog #astrology chart #birth chart #astrology community #astro community

[avtrbee]

turn back time, to the good old days

✢summary: a curse hits megumi and gojo reacts accordingly

✢tags: fushiguro megumi and gojo satoru, nobara pov

✢tw: child abandonment issues?

✢a/n: lets all take a break from whatever the fuck gege akutami has been recently writing. i hope I did dad gojo justice.

Nobara knows she’s fucked as soon as she sees Fushiguro disappear. Her eyes watch in mild horror as her classmate shrinks so quickly until all that is left of him is his uniform.

Itadori was the first to react, shouting a panicked “Fushiguro!” before running towards the pile of clothes.

The door to Shoko-san’s infirmary burst open, revealing an irritated Nobara, followed by Itadori who still had baby Fushiguro in his arms. The child had stopped crying after they passed school gates- maybe he recognized jujutsu tech?- and had settled for wet sniffles instead. Nobara has never seen Fushiguro so pathetic.

Shoko-san was, unsurprisingly, seated behind her desk with papers. She looked at them at the sound of her doors opening, but before she could even talk, Gojo-sensei appeared out of nowhere with his signature annoying grin. 

“Yoho~ how did the mission go? I’m sure it went well. I taught you everything you know!”

Nobara could feel her face morphing into an automatic frown. Things were hectic enough as it is, and she didn’t want this moron to ruin baby Fushiguro’s mood any further. They had just endured an hour-and-a-half car ride with a panicked Fushiguro, who insisted on being unconsolable and crying the entire ride back. She just came from a grueling mission. She was sure some of baby Fushiguro’s saliva, and snot landed in her somehow, and if this grandpa-looking sensei of hers made things even worse, she might explode.

“Eh? Megumi?” Gojo sensei asked in confusion after finally noticing the significantly smaller boy. Gojo Satoru’s gaze looks blankly at Itadori’s arms where a smaller Fushiguro is being carried.

As if on cue, Fushiguro breaks out in a full-on wail and cries louder than he ever did in the car.

Nobara already had her trusty hammer in hand, ready to smack the living hell out of her sensei, until she noticed Fushiguro desperately wiggling out of Itadori’s grasp. Both Nobara and Itadori share a confused look before her classmate puts baby Fushiguro down. 

As soon as his bare feet touched the cold, sterile floor of the infirmary, Nobara watched in awe as Fushiguro dashed away from them as quickly as he could. It was almost comical how fast he managed to get his tiny feet to run quickly. If this was a cartoon, a cloud of smoke would have been left in his trail. 

With his hands out open and eyes wet with a flood of tears, baby Fushiguro rushed to Gojo-sensei, who, to Nobara and Itadori’s surprise, was already squatting down for the boy with arms spread out. Gojo caught Fushiguro easily, one big hand immediately going behind Fushiguro’s head and the other on his back. 

“Why did you leave me?” The boy wails, crying on their sensei’s shoulder. “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!” 

Fushiguro’s voice cracks at the end of his accusation, and Gojo’s face crumples in a rare show of vulnerability. He shifts, both hands going under Fushiguro’s armpits as Gojo stands. Small, chubby fingers tug his blindfold down, and Gojo-sensei’s blue eyes stare almost lovingly at the crying child with concern. Fushiguro clings to him as if his life depended on it, his tiny fists clenching their sensei’s uniform. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo-sensei coos, swaying slightly from side to side. Gojo makes sure Fushiguro is looking at him before making a show of slapping his hand on his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”

Nobara’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Gojo-sensei seemed to have done everything with ease as their baby-fied classmate was now calming down in his arms. 

“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!” Fushiguro seethes and pulls the angriest scowl he can muster. But then, with another quieter and sadder voice, he reminds Gojo of his previous accusation. “You left.”

“I didn’t leave you,” Gojo corrects him in a softer tone of voice. His hand reaches up to Fushiguro and smoothes out his spiky hair as the child looks at him with slight distrust. The small boy has stopped wailing. Nobara has never seen her sensei so tender. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”

Nobara blinks. Since he got- what is going on? She opens her mouth to speak but stops as a quiet voice asks Gojo a question.

“But you will?” Fushiguro asks with his pitch high, threatening another onslaught of tears.

Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.

Fushiguro looks at their sensei in distrust, internally debating if he should believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”

“Even then,” Gojo answers easily. Fushiguro’s shoulders visibly relax, and he lets himself melt on Gojo’s chest. The older sorcerer puts back a cheery tone as soon as he notices Fushiguro calms down. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”

A small smile appears on Shoko-san’s face as baby Fushiguro waves shyly embarrassed that she has seen him throw a tantrum. Nobara thinks it’s her first time seeing her smile. But then Shoko-san glances back at them, and the smile disappears.

Somehow, Nobara feels a little guilty. She knows she probably intruded in a scene meant for Gojo and Fushiguro…whatever they are. But it’s not like she had a choice! 

Shoko sighs. “Alright, you two,” she ushers them away with a few flicks of her wrist. “We’ll take it from here.”

Gojo-sensei’s head snaps in their direction, so engrossed with Fushiguro that he almost forgot Nobara and Itadori were still in the room. His blue eyes feel like a spotlight, piercing through them threateningly.

The air feels heavy and almost suffocating, and Nobara feels her shackles rise as her hand twitches for her hammer. It took her a while to realize that the pressure was Gojo-sensei’s cursed energy. Nobara’s instincts whisper at her to run. 

Behind her, Itadori reads the situation first and bows in a hurry. He is as likely ready to change out of his snot-filled uniform as she is as eager to escape their deranged sensei. “See you later, Gojo-sensei! Bye-bye Fushiguro!”

Itadori snatches Nobara’s hand just as she finishes her clumsy bow. As she lightly runs to her dorms, the thought of a fresh shower chases away any lingering thoughts of what happened.

-

Gojo feels as though he has traveled back in time. He is frozen in both shock and awe as Megumi, once a tall, lanky, and cranky teenager, has been reduced to a barely four-foot-tall child, his eyes streaming with tears at the sight of him.

As if on instinct, Gojo dropped down to his height- a very helpful tip he read from one of those parenting books he read in a panic after he realized he was the textbook definition of a teen dad- and opened his arms. 

He sees Megumi sprint, and Gojo has been in this situation a few times before to know that Megumi was about to launch him a rare hug. Not even a moment later, Megumi was all over him. His hands immediately wrap around the boy.

Gojo knows that he is acting on pure selfishness. He knows something is wrong. For one, Megumi is tiny, and second, his Six Eyes sense a lingering feel of foreign cursed energy. He knows he should be more concerned, checking if his students are alright, but Megumi is sobbing in his arms like he used to a decade ago. In his accumulated knowledge of him, Gojo knows that Megumi is a shy boy, and it takes a lot for him to openly demand his affection and comfort. Gojo is more than happy to deliver. 

He caresses Megumi’s hair, and Gojo ignores the way his heart sings. He hasn’t seen this Megumi in a long time, and the boy has long refused his affection. 

Before Gojo could ask him what was wrong, Megumi’s watery voice echoes throughout Ieiri’s infirmary. “Why did you leave me?” He cries, “I woke up, and I d-didn’t know where I w-was! You promised never to do that! You promised!”

Ah, Gojo thinks as he feels his heart ache. He knows what this is. Megumi has spent most of his early life witnessing too many people come and leave. If he was correct, which he always ways, Megumi has regressed back in age and memory. Gojo couldn’t help but wonder how he must have felt when he awoke with many unfamiliar people. He knows Megumi assumed he had left him then, just like everyone else. 

Gojo lifts Megumi with him as he stands, a hand going under his thighs to support the small boy. Megumi tugs down his blindfold, and Gojo lets him. He does not even realize he’s already swaying Megumi from side to side. His body still remembers how to soothe him.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Gojo says in an admonishing tone before dramatically slapping his forehead. “Stupid Gojo-san, he forgot his most precious ‘Gumi! What am I going to do?”

He does not mind playing the fool for Megumi’s state of mind. When he assumed guardianship over Megumi and his sister, Gojo thought of his role as a simple one. He is their benefactor, one that comes over on a rare weekend to leave money for the Fushiguros to sustain themselves. But one weekend turned into two, and Gojo found himself craving the noise and warmth of the Fushiguro household. 

“I’m not precious to you at all, so stop calling me that!”

Oh, how could he even comprehend what he meant to him? Has he forgotten how Gojo learned how to cook to make onigiri-shaped divine dogs for his daily bento? Has he forgotten the movie nights spent on the couch sandwiched between him and Tsumiki? Did he not remember those nights Megumi knocked on his door at night, scared to sleep in his room because his Tsumiki-nee-san was in camp? The animal band-aids? The glow-in-the-dark stickers stuck in his room ceiling?

Gojo watches as Megumi sniffs, eyes darting away from his gaze. His grip on Gojo’s uniform falters. “You left me.”

“I would never leave you,” he says. A memory intrudes his mind with a Megumi similar to this one in front of him. He was angry, his face red with rage, as he hit little fists, landing soft punches on Gojo’s stomach. Gojo didn’t mean to come home late. “Haven’t left you ever since I got you.”

Instead of being relieved, he could have felt Megumi’s heartbreak. He breathes shakily and asks in a tone that tries to conceal his panic and anger- “But you will?”

Gojo shakes his head without hesitation. “No,” he insists.

Fushiguro looks at him in distrust, internally debating whether to believe him. His blue eyes shine as he peeks through his lashes to look at Gojo’s unwavering gaze. He asks with a quiet and unsure voice, “Even when I’m bad?”

Gojo thinks of his almost weekly meetings with Megumi’s high school as he beats other students in a pulp. He thinks of Megumi stretching his arms out, curling his hands to fists, ready to resign himself to a certain death.

“Even then,” he whispers to the boy like it was their little secret. He makes his voice loud and cheery as Gojo exclaims his next words. “Fellow sorcerers brought you back to me, right? And look!” He shifts Megumi towards Shoko-san’s direction. “Aunt Ieiri is here!”

Megumi avoids her gaze and stares at her pristine white coat instead. He offers her a small wave, and Gojo watches as Ieiri gives a him gentle smile. 

A wave of appreciation rolls over him as he realizes that Megumi has as many memories of her as he does with him. Gojo feels so stupid when he thinks about the moments when he thought he was lonely. He had two people in this room who loved him as much as he did them. Then, for a brief moment, his brain scolds him for not remembering his precious little girl who loves him infinitely even when asleep. He hopes she’ll wake soon.

“Alright, you two. We’ll take it from here.”

Immediately, Gojo freezes in panic. His instinct sets his Infinity to engulf Megumu and Ieiri. His next thought was- how did they sneak up on me? Gojo panics as he realizes they have seen him cradling Megumi, consoling him with all the gentleness he could muster. They have witnessed his weakness. They have already taken one from him, and Gojo would be damned if anyone takes another child.

His Six Eyes snap at the two intruders, and it takes him—oh, it’s his students. And they are already half-running towards the door. 

As soon as the infirmary doors shut to a close, Gojo feels the heated gaze of his friend. 

“You didn’t have to scare them like that,” she scolds. “Now they’ll have more questions after Fushiguro’s back to normal.”

Gojo does feel a vague sense of guilt. He didn’t mean to have his students feel threatened by him. He was just caught unaware for the first time in a long time. It didn’t help that Megumi suddenly became smaller and more affectionate, reminding him of precious memories. His brain had thought there was a Fushiguro Toji-level threat like it does every time someone close comes to him without noticing.

“It’ll fade away in a few hours or days, by the way,” Shoko murmurs, her hands going for a cigarette. “He’ll be back to normal in a few. But you already knew that.”

Gojo slaps her hand before she even reaches a cigarette. Shoko takes one look at Megumi and sighs. She takes in the sight before her.

“Feeling sentimental?” She asks.

Gojo hugs Megumi a little tighter. He closes his eyes and lets himself hold the child. Gojo breathes in his scent and relishes the feeling of his child in his arms. He feels Megumi’s spiky hair softly poking his neck, his warmth; he faintly smells Megumi’s childhood shampoo. He feels Megumi squeeze back. “Let me have this.”

Teenage Megumi would never let him hug him with this much vulnerability, which was fine. Gojo loves teenage Megumi as much as he loves this child version of him, but he rarely asks for him anymore. It makes Gojo feel silly to reminisce like he’s past 50 years old when he’s just 27, but in his humble and correct opinion- he was a teenage dad. 

“Never do that again,” Megumi scolds him, voice a little muffled.  “I’ll hate you if you do. I’ll hate you. I will.” Each word spoken was more determined after the next, bringing another smile to Gojo’s face. They both know Megumi does not mean it. They both know Gojo would never leave him. Not willingly. 

lmk what you think! i'd love to hear comments, your thoughts and whatever this fic made you feel. i'd also appreciate constructive criticism <33

#gojo and megumi #dad gojo #fushiguro megumi and gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #ieri shoko #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojo smut

[cremedensada]

something in my drafts that i actually got the energy and motivation to finish. it's not really my best work but i *did* try so!! also 600+ of yall?? (⁠(⁠(⁠;⁠ꏿ⁠_⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)⁠)⁠)

Yandere Ocean Spirit who the local sailors and fishermen tell tales of. Some say he takes the form of a charming young man talking with the grandmothers, letting himself be entertained by their tales of when they were younger.

Some say she takes the form of a beautiful young lady walking down the shore as the sun sets down the horizon, colorful gold and orange painting the sky with awe - a vision of beauty and elegance.

Some say they take the form of an individual whose beauty goes beyond genders and labels, taking a dip in the ocean - glowing moonlight behind them. Locals who saw a glimpse of them would often murmur about their long cascading hair as dark as the ocean's waves in midnight; no one truly knows where the tips of their hair ends and the ocean begins.

Yandere Ocean Spirit who, despite his contentment with life at the seaside, finds himself curious with you - a new face, a visitor, in his home.

You were staying at the seaside for the summer, spending time with your relatives per your parents' decisions. You're not all too happy with being plucked out of your comfort zone, but you suppose you might as well make it work - a chance to destress before you'll have to come back and face the reality of life's hustle and bustle, like the unforgiving ocean waves crashing against the shore, hah.

The ocean waves are inviting today - not too huge and overwhelming, but neither too placid and calm. You spend a huge chunk of your afternoon watching the waves - something so routinely was so pleasing to you.

The beautiful stranger approaches you in one of your ocean-watching ventures, a sweet smile adorning her beautiful face - asking permission to accompany you. And who are you to deny her? Not when she looks at you looking like the most breathtaking woman you've ever met in your life and you are just a human being with a huge appreciation for beauty.

"I like the ocean," she says, after a moment of silence, eyes trained on the waves, "everything in life can change - things come and go, but you can always count the ocean to be there."

You chuckle. "Even the ocean can be unforgiving, you know. Especially during storms."

"Ah," she laughs, "that, I'll have to agree... we're all victims to the whims of the weather."

You smile in agreement, and the silence that follows is pleasant and welcome - like the ocean breeze gently blowing against your skin.

The next few days you busy yourself with familiarizing around town. While running an errand for your aunt, you come across a huddle of fishermen - gazes grim.

"Looks like it's about to rain," one of them says, "can't go fishing at this weather."

You hear another fisherman let out a grunt, just as you near their huddle.

"We can't always hope for a fair weather all the time. The ocean spirit can only do so much for us common folk."

An ocean spirit? You halt in your steps unconsciously, curiosity urging you to listen more. One of the men seems to notice, and lets out a hearty laugh.

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment at being caught listening.

"Curious, eh?" he says as the others turn to you as well, wearing matching amused smiles - at the very least, they didn't look like they were mocking you. "Never heard of an ocean spirit before?"

"Spirits aren't... exactly common in the city," you find yourself responding.

They nod in understanding. "Too urbanized," one of them says - a man sporting a huge scar underneath his left cheek, "they're more powerful and stronger when they're in their natural habitats."

It's your first time hearing of the existence of such spirits. "What does the spirit look like?"

They share amused glances, like you've just asked them of an inside joke you didn't know they had. "Well it depends on how the spirit wants to look like. But you've already met her, if that's what you're asking."

Their words echo in your mind until the next day as you watch the waves once more. It crashes against the sand and washes towards your feet - you watch it retreat.

A smell of the ocean breeze creeps up on you, and you feel a presence beside you.

"Mind if I join?"

His voice is deeper this time, different from her softer lilt - the one that reminds of you of early morning rays, the calm rippling of the ocean accompanied by the glittering sunlight. His voice feels like the warm ocean water soaking you to your thighs, gently swayed by the waves moving to and fro.

You turn to meet his gaze.

"You never told me you were an ocean spirit."

Unfazed, he smiles. "You never asked... plus, I didn't intend to hide it in the first place."

You entertain him with your company - his eyes gazing at you with keen interest as you share about your life in the city.

"—and what brings you to this peaceful little town?"

"Just... vacation," you shrugged, "I'm heading back to the city after a few weeks."

He frowns, but quickly covers it up with a serene smile. "That's a shame. Can't you stay a little bit longer?"

"I'm not meant for the seaside life," you respond; and it's true. You were not born with the ocean breeze to greet you in the morning, and the sound of birds singing the days away, nor the sound of waves lapping against the shore. You were born with the hustle and bustle, the sound of heavy traffic and hurrying men and women getting to one designation to another, and the smell of smoke permeating in the air.

It can be said, yes, that you can get used to a simplistic life at the beach but could you really? Not when your subconscious mind tells you that there's more to do at home, things to finish, projects to oversee, friends to keep up with, a life that you cannot afford to upend because your comfort has already rooted in the city, and it would be foolish to uproot it in an environment that it has to get used to after it has already matured.

"Oh."

He quietens after that. The waves are audibly more harsher as they crash against the shore, thrashing and lashing even beneath clear blue skies. The ocean spirit is not mad, but it rolls off of him in the waves.

And days turn to weeks — the waves only get harsher. Fishermen stand by the shore, scowling and frowning as the rough waters force them not to travel the nasty waves. What good is their livelihood if they do not live to return anyway?

The ocean spirit is nowhere to be seen, and there's no way to bargain or to ask what's wrong — like he has just disappeared down the depths.

The day of your departure comes, bags packed and a sense of anticipation to be back home thrums in your veins. As the car rumbles to life, thunder crackles in the air and lightning strikes — a flash flood comes surging towards the shore.

Cries of surprise and fear erupted from the villagers as the waves slammed against them, like claws tightening their hold on their prey. Was this the work of their ocean spirit? The gentle soul who would listen to the grandmothers' tales of their young love and misadventures like a child listen's to a fisherman's tale of braving the storms.

Or was the ocean spirit holding themselves back all along, now only deciding to let go of their restraints and let the humans feel the full blow of the ocean without their careful watch. Humans, who have since been uses to their less than concerning storms, unfit to respond to such a devastating occurrence — too panicked and fearful to flee away to higher ground.

You watch as the waves continue to drown more and more people, and a lone figure standing on an elevated rock formation. Has it been there all along?

Your feet moved before your mind can catch up to it, wading through the waters to reach the figure. They notice your presence and, serenely, smiles at you.

"Hello," they greet, like the storm all over them is not happening at all, "wanna watch the ocean with me?"

"You need to stop," you insist instead, ignoring their invitation. "The villagers are drowning."

They merely watch, and hum. "That's a shame, isn't it?" they murmur. How can they be so cruel? No — have they been this heartless all along? What of the person who the people sing praises of? "Perhaps they should start to learn to get used to it."

You hear the wail of a mother. You can only imagine what made her cry with such devastation.

"After you've given them protection?"

"Aren't we all victims to the whims of the weather?" They hum, "then perhaps, we're all also just victims to the whims of the ocean."

"And what would change the ocean's whim right now?"

As though waiting for that inevitable question to be asked, they smiled. "For you to stay."

Another harsh wave ravages the village, and they smiles at you with a calm smile — calm as the waves of the ocean should be — as more cries and sobs, pleas for help fills your ears.

"Well? Will you stay, or will you let everyone drown?"

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[markantonys]

What is your ideal Gawyn show intro?

tick tock, it's gawynposting o'clock!!! i love being enabled, thank you :')

okay, so here's what i'm thinking. 3x01 focuses on catching up with our established characters and setting up the main storylines for the season. 3x02 is time for our caemlyn crew to make their grand entrance; the episode title seems to be "a question of crimson" (though this isn't guaranteed) which would be perfect for an andor & elaida intro episode.

3x02 cold open. scene: caemlyn palace nursery 20 years ago. baby elayne (there was allegedly a baby needed on the caemlyn palace set) is snoozing in her cradle with a nurse (lini cameo!) keeping an eye on her. 10ish-year-old galad is there playing with toddler gawyn. elaida enters the room and takes gawyn over to elayne's cradle and explains to him what it means to be her first prince of the sword, then makes him swear the oath we famously hear about in the books, the oath he swore over her cradle when he was just barely tall enough to look into it, "my blood shed before hers, my life given before hers". the audience goes "wow! this is a pretty fucked up thing to do to this 2-year-old" and thus we learn something about both gawyn (was psychologically fucked up at age 2 by being taught to see himself as a tool to protect other, more important people) and elaida (cares a lot about protecting the royal house of andor and has no problem psychologically fucking up 2-year-olds to do it). and there can be other stuff in the scene to tell us a bit about galad and morgase maybe, depending on how big of a role they're going to have in s3.

this is where i would put the opening credits IF I HAD THEM. (hashtag bring back the opening credits in every episode not just the finale you cowards.) now we go to present-day caemlyn, where the fam is discussing their worries that elayne is missing. gawyn in particular is upset about it and is blaming himself (and being blamed by elaida, and maybe even morgase makes some queenly Harsh But Fair remarks), and the audience goes "yep, sure enough, that 2-year-old has grown up to have Issues." and thus, right away, we've been given a point of connection with and sympathy for gawyn as well as an important insight into why he is Like That. this toddlerhood oath-swearing scene is buried in his narration in the books and i think a lot of people miss it or miss its importance, but it is THE formative moment for his character and the key to understanding why he is Like That, and i'd die if it was portrayed directly onscreen via flashback cold open.

meanwhile, elayne, nynaeve, and mat have set off for tanchico from falme, but the rest of the gang is headed for caemlyn (either as a stop on the way to the waste, or as their intended final destination but shenanigans later force them to flee and only then do they decide to go to the waste). perrin goes out and about in the city and hears rumors of trouble in the two rivers, setting him up to branch off from the group by the end of 3x02. egwene heads to the palace, having been tasked by elayne to deliver a letter to her family assuring them she's well, and rand tags along.

but the guards won't let these two hooligans in, so instead they go around back and break in over the garden wall, falling off the wall at gawyn's feet and setting off the biggest bi crisis of his life. egwene has a whole flirty meetcute with a handsome prince while rand, with whom she officially broke up in 3x01, has to bear witness to the whole thing (and this shows the audience that egwene is also moving on, thus soothing them about rand getting new love interests this season), but gawyn is friendly to rand too and defends both of them from galad's bitch ass and all the guards galad tattles on them to.

rand and egwene are hauled off to an audience with morgase and elaida, and gawyn defends them again but obediently shuts up when morgase and elaida tell him to (showing us that he has a good heart but is easily influenced by authority figures, especially elaida - seeing that gawyn tends to obey elaida is a surprise tool to help us later). whole tense convo here where egwene and rand both get to meet their mutual future mother-in-law as well as their mutual future kidnapper, and egwene delivers the letter but then elaida has her ominous foretelling of rand, which calls his and egwene's integrity and thus the veracity of the letter into question. morgase lets them go (against elaida's advice) but doesn't trust the letter (at elaida's advice) and continues to worry for elayne's safety. so, elaida sets off for the white tower to get answers, with gawyn in tow because, as we learned at the very start of the episode, protecting elayne is quite literally his life.

there we have it! a gawyn intro that sets up a ton of important stuff for him (his oaths to elayne, the way he ties his self-worth to his ability to protect people he deems more important than him, his fucked-up mentor/mentee relationship with elaida, his crush on egwene, his friends-to-onesided-homoerotic-rivals arc with rand, his relationships with morgase and galad), gets the audience to understand and sympathize with and maybe even feel fond of him right off the bat, AND doesn't violate any of the handful of tidbits we know about s3 so far. a win-win-win!

this is my ideal version. but there's a couple other possibilities, such as a) we meet gawyn in caemlyn, but rand & co don't go there, so gawyn does not meet egwene until a future season, or b) elaida and morgase have a one-on-one convo in caemlyn (both actresses were leaked to have been on that set, but no word on if the brothers were there) and gawyn isn't introduced until a later scene arriving at the white tower with elaida (and so doesn't meet egwene until a future season).

i'm leaving galad out of the white tower trip for now because i remember musing a while back how it could actually be more effective if it's an elaida-gawyn duo and galad stays home with morgase. both women are important to both brothers' stories, but elaida is more important to gawyn and morgase is more important to galad. gawyn can be alone with elaida doing all the coup stuff, and galad can be with morgase watching her start behaving strangely, not understanding why, and starting to turn to the whitecloaks (because he blames the aes sedai for elayne's disappearance, because he's afraid morgase is losing her grip and starting to do andor harm, and maybe because morgase was compelled to treat him cruelly and kick him out a la bryne* in the books and he feels he has nowhere else to turn to). gawyn/elaida/tower + galad/morgase/whitecloaks feels like two logical groupings, and in that regard keeping galad in caemlyn could allow for more efficient storytelling than sending him to tar valon. and the galad/morgase/whitecloaks storyline could be held until s4, leaving galad and morgase as just 1ish-episode characters in s3, or it could be another s3 subplot if they want to speed things along. there's also a chance galad could already be a whitecloak and is in the two rivers storyline with dain, but i would prefer that not be the case because my opinion is it's important to his character for us to see him start normal and then get radicalized into the whitecloaks. plus, galad has SO little content in the books that the show is absolutely fine to stretch his stuff out a bit, they don't need to rush to have him already be a whitecloak at the start of s3.

*i've also made these theories with bryne being cut, since i have elaida take his place in gawyn's oath-swearing and galad take his place as the big bridge burned by compelled!morgase. i have no idea whether he actually WILL be cut or not (though i'm 99% confident his romance with siuan is off the table even if he's in), but he feels like a character where it's easy to divvy their stuff up among other more important characters. mat and bashere have us covered for Great Generals, thom has us covered as morgase's ex with whom things ended badly, and egwene could get soldiers from another source (or could even have her army simply be aes sedai and warders).

#i can't believe we STILL have no gawyn casting #how much harder do i have to work to manifest him??? #wot #wot book spoilers #anonymous #answered #gawyn trakand #gawynposting

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).

Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.

Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.

You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.

“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.

Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.

And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.

Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.

“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”

“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.

A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.

But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.

And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.

Whatever fine means.

“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.

You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.

“That depends, you gonna let me win?”

“Never.”

“Y/N! There you are.”

You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.

But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.

“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”

You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”

“Yeah.”

Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.

Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.

“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.

“…I know.”

You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.

What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”

You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”

Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!

“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”

Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”

“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”

You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.

“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?

In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.

“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”

Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.

Keyword: friend.

He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…

“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.

But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.

Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.

And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.

The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.

Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.

He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.

This was it.

The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.

Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?

Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?

No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.

And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”

A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.

This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.

“I knew it.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you angst #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x you angst #jjk x you angst #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo angst #gojo satoru x y/n angst #gojo satoru x you angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk (some more) about the Red Lyrium Idol

So, if there's anyone who actually read all of this and is for some reason still interested in even more ramblings, here is Part 2 of my way too long tinfoil theory/summary post about the red lyrium idol, and I swear, it's the last one. 😂 Again, I just needed to get this out before we might get the first real trailer TOMORROW and I'm proven completely wrong, because that's just so funny to me. lol

(Note: This post was written before the title of DA4 was changed into "The Veilguard", so the implications of this title for the narrative were not taken into account for any of this. 💀)

The Phylactery Theory

"A phylactery is a vessel, often a glass vial, containing the essence of a magical being. The Circle of Magi and the Chantry use small phylacteries filled with blood, to track down mages that turn apostate."

"Phylacteries, ironically, are a form of blood magic. When a templar wishes to track down a fugitive mage they will use the phylactery as a way of homing in on the fugitive by way of a "hot and cold" situation, i.e., the phylactery glows, becoming brighter the closer it gets to its respective mage."

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin described the idol to feel rather heavy, like there was "liquid inside". In the 2018 teaser, we see glowing cracks creeping up the idol's surface.

Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

(- Solas when talking about blood magic)

In DAO, the Arcane Warrior specialization can be unlocked while doing the "Nature of the Beast" quest line, in the Lower Ruins of the Brecilian Ruins, south the Elven Burial Chamber. Inside a small chamber which looks like a ruined library, there is a broken stone altar. A phylactery is hidden in the far corner of the room. When you touch the phylactery you experience the memories of an elven arcane warrior who has remained trapped inside of the phylactery for centuries. It offers to teach you the secrets of the arcane warriors in exchange for setting its spirit free by placing the phylactery on an ancient altar.

In the "The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" poem in JOH, there is an idol that seems to possess a spirit that is connected to a demon wolf in a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol/spirit are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

The Black Vials are six small glass phylacteries that can be found around Ferelden. When the Warden takes a vial, the glass fractures and releases a hostile revenant. A revenant is a form of undead that is created when a powerful demon, usually that of desire or pride, possesses a corpse. Upon their death, each revenant drops a scrap of vellum/codex entry that reads:

"Bound by your true name, no mortal hand shall reach you."

In the Tevinter Nights story "Genitivi Dies at the End", Rasaan and the Qunari were searching for Solas' "true name".

In the final chamber of the Solasan temple, there's an ancient inscription that reads:

Faintly carved into the stone is a figure bound in chains. Two other figures have turned their gaze from the central image. "Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so he was bound." "Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within."

A codex about an encounter with a revenant, 5:71 Exalted:

"[…] The descriptions of the creature's abilities were eerily similar to those our brothers at Marnas Pell encountered almost a century ago […]"

Solas' hideout in The Missing was located in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell.

Cole's comments in Trespasser suggest that Solas was bound to Mythal.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

While Solas seemed to have burned her vallaslin off his face, could there be a chance that he is still bound to Mythal by his true name? Could it be that he is still bound to whatever part of Mythal is trapped within the idol?

Again, the ancient spirit in DAO can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So, the question is, if the idol is indeed a phylactery containing Solas'/Mythal's blood and a part of her spirit that needs to be placed on its original location/altar to free her, and if it was ripped off its original location, then where did it originally belong?

The Place Where It All Began

In 2018, we got the first DA4 teaser, showing the idol in various close-ups as well as the focal point of this mural.

Look at how the idol is suspiciously placed in the very center of the circle/tambourine which we assume to represent the Veil.

Now, what else sits at the center of the Fade that is ever present and visible but cannot be reached?

Right, the Black City.

Again, the idol is very likely depicting Mythal's death.

Now, tell me, where do you think was Mythal murdered?

Or rather, where do you think did the Blight originate?

I'm convinced that the Black/Golden City is/was Arlathan. The place where the false gods were imprisoned when Solas created the Veil. The idol/blade was likely forged after Mythal died. The 2022 cinematic clearly shows that the Blight started to spread from the center of the Golden City before it turned black and began to consume the rest of the world, but seemed to have then been contained by the Veil preventing it from spreading further.

"Had I not created the Veil, the Evanuris would have destroyed the entire world."

Corypheus is physically covered in red lyrium. We can assume that he turned into a blighted creature when he entered the Black City, which was already black and corrupted when they opened its gates.

Red lyrium only began appearing throughout the surface of all of southern Thedas in crystalline nodes following the opening of the Breach.

In Future Redcliffe, a year has past with the Breach still open and the red lyrium has spread everywhere.

It is proven that the Veil is inedvitably getting weaker alltogether, and that it will eventually come down at some point, regardless of Solas' actions.

The Veil getting weaker correlates with the Blight spreading further. If the root of the Blight lies within the Black City, and if the Blight was contained/prevented from spreading further through the creation of the Veil, and if the seven Old Gods are connected to the seven imprisoned, tainted Evanuris and serve as seals to the seven gates/mirrors of the Black City, then this banter and these visuals make a lot of sense:

Seven semi-circles with two of them still “lit” and the “tambourine”/Veil looking more broken with each new update….

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil…..

Seven mirrors shattering….

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness….

Solas: Your Order… the Grey Wardens… Blackwall: What about them? Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world's defense against the Blight, do they not? Blackwall: Yes… why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn't everyone know this? Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain? Blackwall: Retire? Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning? Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this? Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

Varric: Give [the Grey Wardens] some credit, it's not like you can study the Blight safely. I may not like everything they've done, but without the wardens, we'd all be blighted by now. Solas: They've bought us some time, I will grant them that.

DA4 will likely be set ten year after the events of DAI. And the Veil has gotten even weaker/Solas might succeed in tearing it down.

In Tevinter Nights, Solas claims that whatever he's going to do will "save this world".

Maybe the idol will solely be used to destroy the Veil and merge the World and the Fade, in order for him to, quote, "casually reshape reality".

BUT, you know what was proven to be the ultimate power source for Dreamers to reshape reality in a time before the Veil?

Say it with me.....

Great. Dragon. Blood.

So let's go back and assume that the idol is a phylactery that contains some part of Mythal/blood and that Solas is somehow still bound to by his true name. Mythal was likely murdered in the Black City, which might've also been the catalyst for the Blight. Solas might want to enter the Black City with the idol. Again, the ancient spirit in Origins can only be freed from the phylactery if it is placed on an ancient altar.

So… What if Solas plans to bring the idol back to its original location and free her spirit?

The Mother's Return

"Why did Mythal come to you?" "For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens."

At last, let me put on the tinfoil hat one final time and break this all down.

*takes deep breath*

The fact that it is Mythal's mosaic that is revealed to be on the platform in that final fight with Corypheus (symbolically surrounded by red lyrium!), the same ruins that were once the foundations of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Sacred Ashes of Andraste, which possesses healing qualities "unsurpassed by even the most powerful spells".

Andraste, who was said to be too weak to bear children, but then miraculously was able to give birth to two daughters later in life. Almost like something came into her life that enabled her to do so. Like, for example, drinking the blood of a Great dragon.

Andraste, who might have not only been a mage, but also an Old God Baby like Kieran, carrying the soul of Dumat.

Old God souls, which a certain person seems to be particularly interested in collecting.

Not the Maker, but Mythal being drawn to Andraste's Old God soul, like a moth to a flame.

Andraste becoming Mythal's host, but that host ultimately burned at the stake, so she had to find another one.

Fast forward a few hundred years. Mythal has found another host in Flemeth, who just so happens to make a bargain with Calenhad Theirin, making him, again, drink the blood of a Great dragon, to gain special powers, leading him to become the first king of Ferelden.

So she watches the Theirin bloodline, until the fateful day Alistair gets almost killed at Ostagar. So she swoops in again, nudging the course of history by saving Alistair and the HOF.

Next up is Hawke, whom she saves so Hawke could find the idol and free Corypheus, setting the events of DAI in motion.

In DAI, if the Inquisitor drinks from the Well of Sorrows and you listen very carefully to the super creepy background noises while playing the audio backwards, the voices of the Well will tell you to "Stop her" and something else that sounds like "She speaks the Calling".

The Calling. A voice, a song, dreams that will haunt the Grey Wardens. Just like a certain idol does.

The Calling, which will force the Grey Wardens to go mad and join the Darkspawn as a collective hivemind to wake the Old Gods, but only after they consumed the Archdemon's blood in the Joining.

A being controlling people as a hivemind?

Like the Titans guiding their children like a collective mind? Titans, whom Mythal was the first to kill and mine their blood and something else to create bodies for her own people.

"The First of my People do not die so easily." (- Solas in Trespasser)

An Archdemon cannot be killed, because their soul will just transfer to the nearest soulless darkspawn. Transfering the soul. The secret of effective immortality.

How do you kill an Archdemon?

By drinking their blood, slaying them and taking in their soul.

What is an Archdemon/Old God?

A dragon.

What WAS Mythal?

"The new ones are faithful to Mythal, but do not understand what she was in her fullness."

Mythal's entire image is based on that of a dragon, a form that in ancient times was reserved for the gods. Because before the Veil, it was the dragon's blood that gave those dreamers the power to shape reality, so powerful that they came to be worshiped as gods. But, I think, not only had Mythal the chief role in the pantheon because she had great dragon blood within her, but because…

Her true form IS actually a motherflippin dragon.

So. What did the Evanuris do in order to KILL Mythal?

They slayed her, drank her blood and each of the seven obtained a part of her soul, but instead of getting killed themselves, they sought to become essentially invincible through both Mythal's blood and the tainted Titan blood/red lyrium.

Let me quote this wonderful post by @virlath from a few years ago.

With her conquering of the titans, I think it’s likely that her blood is a part of the blight and the red lyrium corruption. Mythal ran the elves' lyrium operations. She had a connection to the titans and their children. She also stole knowledge of the Void from Andruil. Combining all this knowledge it makes sense that she could use this to her advantage once she was imprisoned and corrupted, because she had a connection to both dragon's blood and lyrium. She just needed a physical aspect- Flemeth, and now Solas, to act out her plans. The use of dragon fire in Dark Fortress is further indication that the combination of dragons and lyrium results in a massive power nexus. I think it’s possible that red lyrium is simply lyrium tainted with dragon's blood. More specifically, Mythal's blood. This is why dragons were strictly reserved for the evanuris in ancient elvhen times- because the key to their immortality and power was dragons and more specifically, great dragon's blood. Mythal had strict rules about taking on the form of 'divinity’. I think this was likely because dragons and dragon fire/dragon's blood was the true source of the evanuris' power, and is what allowed them to appear immortal. This could explain why the old gods are so inexplicably linked to the evanuris in the lore. I think the evanuris each had a dragon- an old god, and they each used dragon's blood and dragon fire to make their dreams into literal reality. No one could infiltrate their dreams because only they had access to the power of dragons, which they claimed was their right.

Before BioWare settled on dragons, the Archdemons were supposed to look very different.

Meaning that, each of the seven Old God souls…. is what?

Yeah, I think it's all Mythal's.

Again, WHAT did the voices of the Well tell the Inquisitor? WHO speaks the CALLING?

It's the voice of the one who's the real owner of that soul. The one who for centuries has been trying to gather the scattered pieces of HER SOUL, driven by nothing but vengeance.

"So Mythal endures."

If the idol contains a part of Mythal, and if Solas used the idol/blade to trick the Evanuris like in Dalish legends, maybe it was because they were desperate to destroy the idol and get rid of Mythal once and for all.

Remember the visions described in Trespasser.

“Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!“ “In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing.” “The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and… something else. It’s not clear.” “They made bodies from the earth. And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget.” "For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire." “For one moment, there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.”

A sphere of fire… you mean, like the SUN? You mean, Mythal actually creating a MOON, just like in Dalish mythology?

Bear with me here.

We established that Mythal mined the Titan's blood, which I believe was then used for centuries in combination with her fire to create bodies for her own people/spirits. On top of that, I believe that, after her victory, Mythal used part of a dead Titan and lifted it into the sky to use it as a "cornerstone" to build the capital city of Elvhenan, Arlathan, on top of her "enemy's corpse".

I believe that in the moment of Mythal's death, her blood altered the Titan's blood (which also sundered the Song) and that something happened to the moon that she had created, which in turn led to the unbridled power of the sun to corrupt part of the Titan that the Golden City, Arlathan, was build on, as well as both their blood. And that's when it turned black. That's when the Blight was created.

Elgar'nan is the God of the Sun in Dalish mythology. He was likely the main instigator behind the Evanuris' betrayal and Mythal's murder.

The sun imagery keeps appearing throughout DA4's promotional stuff.

If the Old God Lusacan is connected to Elgar'nan, they would represent two polar opposites. The God of the Sun and the God of Night and Darkness. Again, Kordillus Drakon prophesied that the seven gates of the Black City would someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness.

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it.“ "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness.” “A night that will never end”

But why does this need to happen? Because Mythal needs to act out her vengeance upon the ones who murdered her and doomed the world with the creation of the Blight.

"She was betrayed as I was betrayed! As the world was betrayed!" "Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!"

Solas wants to save his people no matter what, and for that, the Veil needs to be torn down, resulting in the World and the Fade becoming one again…

But, to truly restore his People, I believe that he needs the Mother to come back.

Mythal represents both Justice and Vengeance. If justice is corrupted, it will turn into vengeance. Solas makes no difference between spirits and demons.

"I am sorry as well, old friend."

That last line of Flemythal to Solas. It's so simple, but what does it truly mean? Why is she apologizing to him?

Is it because none of this would have happened if she didn't die and everything that happened to the people and the world was because of her downfall? Because it was her who started all this in the first place with the death of the Titans, stealing their hearts and corrupting their blood?

With her gone and no one left to keep the false gods in check, if it hadn't been for her death, Solas wouldn't have been left with what seemed to be the only choice?

Is she sorry for everything he had to endure, from her giving him a body against his will, twisting his original purpose, to him having to live with the guilt over the death of a world and an entire civilization for a thousand years?

Or is she apologizing for using him?

"An eclipse as Fen'Harel stirred."

"Cry havoc in the moonlight. Let the fire of vengeance burn. The cause is clear." (- Solas reciting Mythal's invication)

She knew that Solas would do anything at this point to undo his mistakes and save the people he doomed. She knew exactly what Solas would do when he came to her in that after credits scene in DAI. She knew that he would need that power and the idol to complete his ritual in order to tear down the Veil, but to what end?

Without the Veil, whoever controls the dreams controls reality.

#tinfoil time #da4 #red lyrium idol #solas #mythal #now on to being proven completely wrong about any of this! 😂

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

Quitting Weed Day 9 Status Report 📝

to start off , i'll say, i do indeed feel like Ass ! this post might get a tad emo. regretting my life choices to smoke for as long as i have 😕 But then again, maybe that's harsh, cus i was just doing the best i could with the circumstances i been dealt in the past.

i couldnt just quit cold turkey cus every time i try that its way too intense and i alwaus end up going back. So the past 9 days i've been hitting my (extremely weak) weed cart a couple times a night, only after 9pm, just to help me sleep. Before that i was smoking probly like. 5-8 bowls a day, followed by hitting the weed pen RELENTLESSLY all night until i passed out. So its still been a huge change lol. From tonight onwards tho i'm done w the weed pen and ready to try 0 thc 🙏

kind friend @palmceader sent me a CBD tincture made for sleep (thanku again 🥹) which im sure has a TINY percentage of thc, but nothing even close to how much im used to.

i cant even imagine how fried my dopamine receptors are, cus honestly, i feel Fucked. spaced out is an understatement. i cant focus on anything and its kinda driving me insane. it feels impossible to read or draw or do any of my hobbies.. my body feels heavy and depressed. No motivation. its kinda the opposite of what i was expecting. i can barely keep my eyes open during the day..

on a brighter note i havent been struggling too much with sleep or appetite. i think sleepy time tea + the tincture + magnesium is rly helping. my dreams recall is already improving so much, and the times i have nightmares arent as bad as its been previous times i tried to quit. i havent rly struggled with cravings at all either, which used to be a huge obstacle for me ! im just so over it now. i was starting to get chest pains and coughing a lot, which was taking any joy out of the act of smoking for me.

morbid to say but I often think of my father and how his rampant addictions directly lead him to such a painful and horrific early death. its a rare perspective of imagery so disturbing , i know i can't go on in such a manner. Like, what a fucking fool i would be! For others i can understand it but for me, no. it has haunted me for a long time to know i'm letting myself go down that path, even with all my insistent self-justification that his death is what brought me to this in the first place. deep down ive been knowing i need to break the cycle like i have the choice and the power, im still alive im still here ..

Sorry if thats depressing to bring up! i do feel depressed tho. i cant use weed to hide from my pain anymore.. i have to rewire my whole ass method of coping with stress at age 30. i know i can do it but its gonnnna be a long winded process full of ups n downs. Running away is no longer an option and thats a lot to face! a lot of old wounds i never rly dealt with, cus i kept my head in the 💨clouds💨 for so long.

i promise not to give up this time tho no matter how hard it gets 🙏 i want to set a good example too like indunno a lot of younger ppl follow me now i dont wanna feed into narratives that may influence them in bad directions. i have a responsible heart. i rly dont think weed is cool i havent since i was like 16. i was just dependent on it so i tried to romanticisze its role in my life. its silly.

im kinda laughing now cus im like god, i initially felt like the reason im quitting is so i can be more active in my dream world, but the more i think about it the more i notice MANY many more reasons to quit that go way deeper.

All in all the reason im talking about it is to maybe inspire other ppl who have been on the verge of quitting but too afraid to rly take the plunge-- Ur not alone, ur not weak for being addicted, if u need to reach out to me u are more than welcome.

Ppl rly downplay weed addiction cus the withdrawals arent life threatening like other substances, but that doesnt mean its a walk in the park. Most ppl i know who are stoners have never been able to quit for similar reasons as me. It takes a major psychological hold over u. if u ever need to vent about it or need advice, im here!

if u read all of this, pls dont worry abt me xD Even if it feels miserable rn i have faith things will improve, the heaviness and brainfog will lift, the emotions will be purged, i am excited for my future. One day at a time....Dont giving up 🙏

Signed, PMD9

[snarky-art]

Compilation of some ceremony/festival wear and regalia for each of the planets/cultures the Winx are on.

General info on the celebrations these are for below the cut! Some have more info than others😅

On Solaria, there’s a celebration for when the big grain harvest is done.

Grains and oils are SUPER important on Solaria.

Their plants they use for oils collected all year, but there are some versions of oil that are much rarer and some that are imbued with other aromatics like florals and cinders. The rarer oils are usually reserved for higher ranking peoples because of pricing and scarcity, but a few dynasties ago, the choice to have a few days where it’s available to everyone during this festival (which takes place over 3 days) was made and that’s been the standard, even when the yield for crops for that oil has been scarce.

When it’s a poor season for it, It’s the job of those in power to limit their intake so that the public can enjoy it no matter what during this holiday.

Wrestling matches where the body is covered in oils are held for entertainment as are other tournaments for feats of strength and athletics. There are also performances, street food (prioritizing grain based foods), artisan stands, the usual stuff like that.

At the end of the 3rd day, if there’s enough oil that season, the Solarian equivalent of apoxyomenos is done on them. If there isn’t much oil, typically just a dab applied to the tips of the ears is done. These are done by those who work and worship in The Temple of the Suns.

For this festival, there’s a lot more leniency on what can be worn by the leaders so this is just one of many outfits that Stella could wear.

On Domino, the majority of flowers bloom in the middle of the year during their equivalent of summer when it’s warmest out, and then they die very quickly, some managing to live for about a month, others lasting only a few days.

A week long celebration is held at the beginning of this season that celebrates the flourishing of life and its abundance, giving thanks to The Great Dragon for it.

It can also acts as a fertility festival for those who wish for it to be that for them, special prayers and journeys made to The Great Tree that is said to be where The Great Dragon is sleeping under. Offerings and thanks are given and wishes for luck in child rearing are given there and also at alters at home or in other places of worship where a representative who works with The Flame and lives in constant worship to The Great Dragon blesses the being who has come to request aid in this task.

A tied piece of cloth that overlaps before being tied into a knot must be present somewhere on the outfit to represent life and the way overlaps and is interconnected with the world around them and others.

There are 2 times a year on Andros in the mainland area when the tide goes far far out, one in their summer season and one in the colder season.

The first one is an example of what could be worn during the warmer one, the middle could be for either depending on if the cape sleeves are removed or kept on, and the last one for the colder one. Pelts from an otter like creature are what the fur bit is.

This takes places for a month the way they measure their time.

Each month during the middle when it’s at its peak there’s multiple days where people set up stands and have celebrations on the wet sand where the ocean normally is

During the warm month it’s a midway celebration giving thanks for the first chunk of their year and then wishing well for the rest of the year by celebrating The Moons for giving abundant resources and care for their people.

The month has an ending ceremony when the tide returns and they give formal thanks to The Moons on the shoreline and pray for blessings and good health for the rest of the year.

The one in the colder season is their end of year/new year celebration.

Same set up but they are celebrating their whole year this time and are readying for their rebirth to start the year off fresh.

This time they give thanks in the water, which is colder and this is to show dedication to The Moons and show proper respect for them giving back the water for them to start their year off.

They then all go under the water and rise back up, cleansed by the water their Moons returned to them, ready for the new year.

The Androsians on the islands away from the mainland have a different celebration during these times for their shoreline being heavily reduced due to the tide coming in.

Some Lynphean variations that are typical for Flora’s area for a holiday where they celebrate the hatching of the serpents (mentioned in this post) they see as carrying the energy of the great tree that connects the planets in their system. It’s a month long event as well with specific days for dancing and a large celebration at the end of it with feasting, stories, and more dancing.

Lots of variation for this one too so I’m just doing the one that has elements more common in Tecna’s area.

Main thing that all of the variations have though is footwear that has a bird talon pattern on the bottom that leaves marks and gloves with bear paw patterns and claws attached.

During the coldest and darkest month, the biggest bear native to the Zenith sleeps during it.

Old beliefs were that this bear swallowed the sun to stay warm and comfortable while it rested.

There’s a type of owl looking bird that can mimic speech on Zenith and is highly revered culturally.

An old tale says it came to the people of Zenith where it saw them struggling to stay warm enough during the harshest weather that Zenith had ever seen due to the bear swallowing the sun, and taught them to harness their magic and imbue it into tools and their clothes to keep them warm. It then talked to the Zenithians about the bear, and together they came up with a plan with them to trick the bear into giving it back the sun so the beings of the planet wouldn’t have to live in permanent darkness and unbearable cold.

The bird would squawk and cry loudly outside the bear’s sleeping space, waking it and making it think there was easy prey.

When the near came to it, ready for a fresh meal, the bird quickly extended its long neck and took the sun from its belly, flying away to take the sun back to the sky.

This cycle repeats every year, the bear chasing the owl until the owl gets tired and then it eats the sun again.

Part of this celebration is a long run where people lineup and race.

This symbolizes the run the bird does to keep the sun up.

To celebrate, you wake up early and stay up all day and night and a big get together for the community in a large traditional hut is set up for it. The story of the bear and the bird is told by an elder and a communal feast is held.

Different tech is shown off as appreciation for the bird’s wisdom helping them get through the coldest time on the planet throughout different smaller huts that are outside of the giant one. It’s where a lot of kids show off their first gadget they’ve made, and it’s usually something simple like a heat enhancement piece, but it’s still a big deal and great moment of pride.

The race takes place last and welcomes in the next day.

The garb here on Musa’s form is for The Singing of The Whales, because we all know it’s an official holiday in canon.

There’s a lot of variation for Melody too but the main thing is the colors.

The Whales are colored similar to spotted koi fish and their most defining feature is big red circles on their cheeks, which is also why the red circles on either side of the mouth is there in a lot of traditional Melodian makeup looks and symbolizes being loud and proud, projecting the songs and voices of The Whales.

The colors used for this festival are reds, oranges, golds, blacks, and whites to match them. Wooden beads painted red are worn often too, typically as necklaces and bracelets, and are considered a necessary part of garb for holy figures that are dedicated to The Whales. They follow them year round and attend to their needs (such as medical aid if one gets hurt or providing additional food if it’s needed) and make sure they’re protected as well.

The flowers on the outfit example here on Musa is basically a spider lily, but it has 2 stamen with red orbs on the end, and because of that it’s associated with The Whales, the stamen with the orbs looking like the circles on their cheeks. Any floral motifs can be used for the outfits for this festival though, that one is just very common given its symbolism.

There’s street food and stands and Whale Dances (which are like Lion Dances, but instead they look like whales lol). Chewy cakes made of rice flour and filled with sweet and savory fillings in the shape of little whales are especially common and sweet fried dough balls covered in a hardened red colored sugar glaze are another popular treat.

Everyone gathers to watch The Whales when they come by and they pay their respects. In Musa’s area, this is done through silence, deep bows, typically on one’s knees, and offerings tossed off the cliff sides. These offerings are typically flowers, feathers (traditionally, birds were said to use their wings to make the winds to carry the songs of The Whales. In certain areas of Melody certain birds might be associated with this duty in particular, such as Cranes in the area Musa’s mother was from as mentioned here on the Mythix post I made. In Musa’s area, all birds are celebrated for this task but it was originally believed a finch like bird with round red spotted cheeks are especially attentive to this task due to the cheek spots), and leaves.

#winx club #winx #world building #lore #snarky winx #bloom winx #winx bloom #stella winx #winx stella #winx flora #flora winx #tecna winx #winx tecna #winx musa #musa winx #musa winx club #bloom winx club #stella winx club #tecna winx club #flora winx club #aisha winx club #winx aisha #aisha winx

[alevolpe]

How do the girls deal differently with anger? If it's too much, I'm mostly interested in reading your thoughts on Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako.

Your insights are *chef kiss*.

I REALLY love this question! Srry it’s taken me so long to answer.

First of all I’ll say for all of them, it depends! Is it something out of their control? Cause if not, mf REI HINO does not stay mad about it, Her ass is sprinting to kick the problem’s ass in milliseconds, right along with Mako! But for simplicity sake, I’ll say the reason the girls are angry is something out of their control and they can only sit there and find way to deal with their emotions.. ok. GO!

Ami. Ami stresses, Ami stresses way more than people think she does. I genuinely see Ami being an extremely stressed person, to the point where I can easily see her being the one with the shortest life span. Stress is scientifically proven to have adverse effects on your health.

How does Ami deal with anger? In most situations I think she suffers in silence. She doesn’t ponder too much, she just tries to keep on going like nothing happened, cause the second she starts taking a moment to think about herself openly is the moment she catches herself “being selfish”. People around her don’t need to see this.

Ami is meant to be that one pleasant person you come across. The one to be always kind to you, no matter the day. A silent yet strong and resilient symbol of strength and comfort.

This is obv a very unhealthy mindset, which I can see Ami getting better at as she get older, but not all the way.

She HATES crying, she always has. The lowest moments in her life is where she just couldn’t cope with all her emotions and just broke down and cried, so she associates crying with “This moment is REALLY THAT BAD”, it’s almost a coping mechanism where she sees herself brimming with copious amounts of anger and emotion, yet she’s not crying, so it’s fine, it’ll be ok. The moments where she cried never ended up ok and still resonate with her.

I think Ami also finds small, yet meaningful ways to destress while coping with anger. Reading is a simple one, I think laying on the floor and taking a moment to decompress helps her too, perhaps while cupping her ears and just depriving herself of as many outside factors as possible. Listening to specific genres of music, going through her father’s sketches, and even sharing an intimate physical moment with a loved one. With Ami for me is a wild pendulum between “I need to feel as much as possible RIGHT NOW!” To “I don’t want to feel anything right now”.

Rei. Oh, boi.. Rei, when has Rei ever been angry? LOL Rei is pretty much always angry.. angry at what? EVERYTHING! Angry at the chickens for spreading the feed to the porch, angry at Yuichiro for using the wrong china for tea, angry at the man down the street, angry at the spicy noodles for NOT BEING ON SALE ANYMORE, angry at the nearest pole for standing in REI HINO’s way! EVERYTHING! But she’s right, why? Cause she’s Rei Hino!

On a deeper level, Rei’s anger is mostly directed at herself, it’s like a 70-30 split of Rei holding herself and the world and people around her to such high standards, it eats her alive. She is her biggest critic and that’s honestly why I see her having such a significant ego.. she kind of earns it. She’s so extremely diligent, yet when she messes up or the people around her do, it kills her cause she knows she should do better, she NEEDS to do better and the others need to do better too. Tho their names aren’t Rei Hino, so she can’t expect them to be perfect all the time. Rei Hino though, she’s fucking perfect, so she better not make ANY mistakes and shit, Rei never makes mistakes!

Also Rei lacks the most basic functions of self reflection.. or reflection in general, as well as self-awareness. She doesn’t have high standards on herself to please anyone but herself, so her emotions are more often heightened by the fact that they are not really based on “normal human decency/shame/standards”, but rather based from her own ‘flawless’ logic and standards. So, something so extremely insignificant can be the irrational thing to tip her over the edge to a breakdown.

Her biggest outside source of consistent pumping uncontrollable anger is her father. I really see them as two peas from the same pod, they are both arrogant, head asses who can’t get over themselves to meet the other person half-way. (even tho Rei is way more justified! Cause fuck him fr)

With all that rambling said, how does Rei deal with anger? If Rei is in a situation where she can’t genuinely go and solve the problem herself, I think she meditates. She spends sometimes up to double digits of hours just meditating. In a way the least Rei-like thing to do, but there’s just something so extremely comforting to Rei about it. She can finally detach all of her worries, her judgments and just exist, peacefully.

Mako. Poor baby.. she has dealt with anger issues since such a young age and her coping mechanisms aren’t great. In the best of times they result in: smashing someone’s face open, but if the problem can’t be solved that way… it gets way more complicated. Mako is a very reactive person: you hurt me, I hurt you. That’s her logic, but in a world so complicated how does such a simple creature manage.. poorly I tell you.

Mako does not like being angry, It’s almost shameful for her, especially around her loved ones. She doesn’t understand why she’s so frequently angry and it eats at her, to the point where she’s literally yelling at herself “why can’t you just be happy?!”. Concepts like trauma and mental illness are so unknown to her.. smart people stuff she’ll call it. get this girl a therapist RN!

How does Mako deal with anger? There are many moments where I see Mako being unable to control her anger. Taking it out on objects around her is out the question! She simply cannot afford it, if Mako grips that phone too hard is goodbye to having a phone period… so I see Mako reactively reaching for a cigarette instead. She’s not proud of it, but what can she do? She can get out and go for a run til her muscles ache, but that would expose her to so many outside factors that could risk heightening her anger. A cigarette always helps.. maybe 2 sometimes.

If her anger is not to that destructive level quite yet, she may reach for her mother’s cookbook and set her mind to a nice relaxing baking session or she can reach to that unfinished crocheted scarf and work on it a lil more, perhaps clean the whole living room instead! All activities that bring her comfort, but which are also ways to deal with her anger that would not put her into further trouble.

With her very unstable financial situation I actually don’t see her working out almost at all. She frequents the school’s sport clubs, but outside of that, she can’t just go throw weights around any time she wants. She has school, sailor business, work.. she has no time. Though this is something I see her start doing as she gets older and possible gets engaged into a better financial situation. Outside of physically fighting someone, I don’t see her wanting to let her anger manifest into physical actions (later she’ll learn that’s actually rlly healthy along with speaking about it, but this Mako has never heard of therapy of self-help.. she can barely afford a doctor, let alone a therapist that can tell her how to deal with pain).

Mina! Man.. Mina’s kinda tough. She’s really hard to read and is excellent at masking her emotions. Doesn’t matter how angry she is, if she doesn’t want you to realize she’s angry, you have a very very very low chance of figuring that out and even a lower chance of getting any readable confirmation of your theory.

Much like Rei, Mina is also very self-critical, but not to Rei’s unreasonable extents. Mina is, because she needs to, she’s the leader, the level headed one, controlling her emotions is not a choice, it’s a necessity. Along with that I see her being way angrier at the world around her than any other of the inners, but she’s not hypocritical about it.. she realizes she’s part of the problem. People are so fucking selfish, it’s disgusting, and yet.. she knows she’s not so different.

So how does Mina deal with anger? Ironically enough, I see Mina being the one throwing weights around. Mina LOVES working out, physical activity is her n1 stress reliever. She’s not very picky either, she most often makes do with anything she has at hand, including environments and all types of different circumstances to adapt to the most reasonable and appropriate workout at the time.

Other than that, I can easily see her openly venting to those around her. If it’s something she doesn’t care about you knowing she’s angry about, then you’ll def hear about it, willing or not! That’s the more “friend” part of Mina coming out, and less of her disciplined persona as “the leader”. Different circumstances lead to different ways of coping. There’s a lot that Mina needs to filter between “we’re friends” and “I’m your leader”, and that complex inter-dynamic of her character is one of my favorite aspects of her.

And speaking of public coping method for anger management.. Mina’s kind of a dick too, depending on the day, she’ll go openly be an ass to someone on the street to destress, or encourage Rei in similar behavior. Entertainment is a kind of minor, yet significant way Mina uses to keep her emotions at bay, a form of temporary distraction, and hey.. Mina is pretty shameless after all. She doesn’t care. Also I can see other types of ‘activities’ that are def a personal fav method of coping for Mina as well *ahem*.

#sailor moon #Ask me stuff #ami mizuno #rei hino #makoto kino #minako aino #this was such a fun ask!! #I love these types of thinking sessions #Helps me flesh out the characters more and more #Truly bringing them to life in my mind

[holymaccaronii]

Your ‘I have no eyes and I must cry’ au is beautiful. I would love to know more

AUUG I’m very happy to know so, thank you (;;) 💕

This AU has probably the most elaborate (or detailed) lore I’ve ever developed, and I’ll happily summarize the prologue. (I’ve probably mentioned many of these points before but I’ll mention them again, just for you anon <3). I’m still working on a lot of stuff, scenes and designs, and while some stuff may change I feel confident enough to explain more of it now. This AU takes place after a modified ending of the videogame where the other mastercomputers get deactivated, Ted gets turned into a slug and the rest of the survivors die. The catch in here is that AM doesn’t let the souls of the other survivors escape, trapping them somewhere deep in his complex and keeping them as bodiless essences who can do nothing more than exist in hell itself.

The lore tries to give a continuation of what will happen in the story with the Luna colony and AM, who is now seeking new organic bodies to put the survivors’ souls in and find Ted, who managed to hide himself from AM ever since he got turned into a slug. The whole context of the prologue goes as follows:

The prologue of the AU explains 3/4s of all the lore, one fourth being the origins of the luna colony, the second the origins of BE and the third the first rebirth of Earth’s nature.

The Luna colony project was led by two siblings, directors of a global association of scientists and researchers. They feared the outcome of the war, thus formulated a plan to keep humanity safe until the Earth’s surface was safe enough to return to and carry out a mission to deactivate AM. For the project, they quickly started to recruit people to join it, a good part of them being teenagers so they could train them in time before any major massacre happened. Another mastercomputer is successfully settled under the moon’s crust in order to protect them, and they settle there on time before AM’s global massacre. Every step of the plan is carried out fine until the very last human who secured everyone else in the cryogenic sleep, one of the directors, goes insane and commits and act of betrayal to the rest and to the AI as well. He shuts it down and uses almost all the materials that made it up to build his own empire of sentient robots for him to rule over on the moon. His plan was to have a century (the 109 years ever since the survivors get trapped) to rule the moon and wait for the Earth to be habitable to then return, shut down AM with a virus the original mission was meant to use, and then rule over all humanity. But at some point during the construction of his empire, the virus got deleted, leaving him with no other option than to additionally develop an army to *try* and deactivate AM himself.

After the famous 109 years pass, robotic troops start to get sent down to try and access AM’s cores and manually deactivate him, but no mission ever succeeded, leaving a lot of losses behind and time wasted. At this moment of the timeline, we also get to have a peculiar unit make history on the moon being the first robot there to plant a seed and successfully make it flourish in order to prove to the leader that they were ready to return to Earth (this specific type of unit didn’t know about AM’s existence and believed that the return to earth depended on their preparation to handle the care of nature). Unfortunately it was against the rules for unauthorized units to touch anything from the natural reservoir, and since this unit had broken the rules, as a punishment it got one of its eyes permanently taken out. Still having hope in its metallic heart, this unit escaped to Earth with another seed in order to prove how ready they were to return, unaware of AM’s presence. This unit traveled underground in order to obtain water from possible reservoirs, but ended up facing a life or death situation in AM’s complex, as he had considered it a threat. As a matter of a “miracle”, this unit ended up rebirthing into a god-like machine with such great powers that not only allowed herself to escape AM’s complex by drilling a hole towards the surface, but also allowed a good chunk of AM’s cables to be able to move and travel up to the surface as well.

Up to here we begin with the third fourth of the lore where AM meets BE and fakes his background in order to justify his hate and get BE to let him roam the earth as freely as possible, still having his cables latched to the ground but being able to move them. With her newfound powers, BE’s plan was to restore Earth’s nature to completion through an incredibly advanced type of simulation over the Earth’s surface where she could create life and matter and keep it existing as long as she wasn’t shut down or damaged. She would finally be able to prove her worth to the moon’s ruler, and allow humans to literally use her to survive + help the real nature slowly take her place. AM initially didn’t mind this plan of her’s, as he could easily betray her later on and finally trap the rest of the humans in his complex. Even so, as time passed by, he started to develop certain feelings for BE as well as possessiveness over her since she basically granted him almost every wish he ever had. AM slowly changed his mind and no longer wanted the humans to return, but keep them away so he could enjoy an eternal heaven with BE on Earth. AM tried to reason with BE about this, but BE denied every single bad thing he mentioned about humans since she had always been influenced with the idea that humans were perfect beings and nature was a subordinate of them to be used as a tool. In an act of rage and desperation, AM trapped BE in his complex in order to share with her the true violent and disgusting history from humans just so that she could develop the same hate he had for them. But having accidentally also shown her who he truly was (since he was also a creation, a weapon from human beings), BE not only developed a great hatred for humans but also for him, resulting in having him vanished from the surface.

The moon’s ruler, who had stopped sending troops in order to let BE restore nature for him to later take over and use her power to shut down AM, noticed that the Earth’s “nature” suddenly began to perish all over again, this being a consequence of BE’s loss of her hope. This led him to take a critical decision to wake up the humans in cryogenic sleep and keep them inside a zoo on the moon where he would ensure their survival until they found an exo planet to move to. Earth had two displeased AI’s under and above the surface, at this point it was better to leave it behind.

From this point and on, the prologue comes to an end and the main story starts it’s course with 5 humans escaping the zoo on the moon and returning to Earth. Once they meet BE, she puts each of them in a trial to prove their values as humans (this is parallel to the games that AM put the survivors in in the videogame). After each of them successfully complete her trials, she re-gains hope in humanity and begins the rebirth of nature a second time.

I won’t spoil the 4~5 endings possible from here and on, but the humans set themselves the objective to help BE eradicate the corrupted beasts controlled by AM that now roamed the Earth, mostly active during winter when BE is less powerful. The rest of the story reveals more secrets, scenes, explanations of past incidents, etc. I’m planning to develop a series of books of sorts with the story narrated simply (bc my English is intermediate-ish, which I consider not enough for an elaborate fic and allat) and also depicting scenes with illustrations. I’ll see how the project goes, but I’ll take my time on it since I also have other projects in mind including my papercrafts n other stuff. Anyways, all of this being explained, I will gladly take more requests/questions to answer :3.

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihneaimc #be ihneaimc #i have no eyes and i must cry

[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 4

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

The next morning, Eddie and I were both feeling the effects of staying up late as we both moved around the house like drunk zombies. Carla arrives early as usual and laughs at Eddie and I before making the comment, “You both look exhausted.” As we’re getting dressed for the day, she was kind enough to make both of us mugs of coffee. I can’t remember the last time I drank a coffee so fast. Eddie was mature and sipped his correctly while he threw me funny glances when he noticed that mine was gone before we were even halfway to work.

Once at work, Eddie parked the car but before I can move to open the door, I feel his hand on my bicep to which he smoothly pulls me back towards him. A long kiss is once again initiated, which I’m not complaining about. When it’s decided that we both need to come up for air, just like last night, Eddie places a soft kiss to my forehead. Although giving me a kiss before work wasn’t unusual, there was something about this one that just felt… different. It’s not like we weren’t going to see each other for a while. We both worked in the same station, we see each other constantly, well that it is call depending I guess.

“What’s all that about cowboy? We’re both going into the same place.” I ask, still smiling at him.

He pauses before answering, staring into my eyes as though the answers to life greatest mysteries sat behind them. “I just love you so much.”

I don’t know how but the smile on my face somehow grew ten times bigger than it already was. We had this game going for years of who could say ‘I love you’ the “largest.” It was always a race to see who could say it last or the largest amount. To the moon and back, to infinity and back, etc. Usually, he won but today I wanted it to be different. So as quick as I can, I give him a quick kiss on the lips, whisper “I love you more than anything” and high tail it out of the car. I can hear him laughing and yelling behind me but that doesn’t matter. I said it last, so I won this round.

After changing into my uniform, I made sure to hide from Eddie so I can maintain my win. Shift change is done rather quickly with my nighttime relief where he reports that nothing crazy had occurred throughout the night. Hopefully, it would stay that way today. Gathering all the information I have on Sheila Leute, or whatever her name is, I make my phone call to CPS. They give me the generous offer of coming by in a few days to check on Charlie. They tell me how bogged down and short staffed they are, causing there to be a large back up on their already established cases. Fair enough, we unfortunately could relate to low staffing issues. Jumping in my CCP vehicle, I make my way towards Charlie and Sheila’s residence.

Making my way up the elevator, I feel my personal phone vibrating in my pocket. Luckily, my smart watch is connected to my phone so I can see who is calling without having to dig into my pocket. The elevator door opens up at the same time that I see that it’s Eddie who is calling. I end the call and begin to send him a voice message that I’m busy when I notice that Shiela and Charlies apartment door is already open. Walking up to the door, I find Charlie standing by the window, looking absolutely panicked. I rush into the house, quickly finding his mom on the living room floor, grasping at her throat with foam coming out of her mouth. I feel my eyes widen for a moment before I immediately get to work helping her. I hear Charlie say behind me that he had already called Eddie and that Eddie was on the way. That probably explains why Eddie was calling me. I had already told Dispatch where I was and what I was doing so the 118 had to know I was already here.

By the time I hear sirens outside, I had already placed an IV started in her right hand with a bag of Fluids running in. I luckily found a place to hang the bag before I work on ventilating her with the BVM. Charlie tells me that he put eye drops in his moms cereal and that he just wanted to see what would happen when he did it. Before I can say anything to reassure him, the door slams open even further and Captain Mehta and his crew are beside me. I can hear Eddie beginning talking to Charlie as I update Mehta and his squad about Sheila’s condition. From the kitchen, I can hear Charlie tell Eddie that he has known for a while that his mom has been putting eye drops in his food and drinks. My heart drops as I realize that Charlie knew exactly what his mom was doing to him. How she was the one that was poisoning him and making him sick. I glance towards the kitchen and lock eyes with Eddie. The realization that he knew hurts more than either of us could have realized.

“The kid’s going to need treatment too,” Buck starts, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I guess they had figured out how Sheila was causing Charlie’s illness after I left this morning.

“Same kind of poisoning, just smaller doses. But for a really long time.”

After loading both Charlie and Sheila onto stretchers and making sure both crews were okay for the moment, I begin to pack up my gear. Thank God I had brought it up with me. As I reach down to pick up the monitor, a hand beats me to it. A familiar hand that belongs to someone I mentally and emotionally need at the moment. I once again look up and meet Eddie’s eyes. There’s a look of sympathy there that I can’t quite understand. Sure, I had a personal connection to this situation, but not as much as Eddie did. Nothing is said for a moment as I notice that Buck is still standing nearby in the kitchen, with my medical bag on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Is all I can get out for the moment, but it seems to convey everything I want to say as both men just smile and nod at me. Moving towards the elevator, they update me on how they figured out what was causing Charlie to be sick. Eddie tells me about how he saw the eyedrops the other day while looking through the cabinets. By the time we reach the bottom floor and make our way through the lobby, Charlie and Sheila are being wheeled to their respective ambulances. My SUV is sitting out front, now surrounded by Battalion 7, Captain Mehta’s firetruck, and the two ambulances. Noticing the confused look on my face brought on by seeing Battalion 7 with no Bobby in sight, Buck laughs and tells me it was the only vehicle available. On the way to talk to Charlie, the boys place my bags in the back of my vehicle before meeting me at Charlie’s side.

“Will I see her at the hospital?” He asks me. Honestly, the question breaks my heart. Even after knowing what she was doing to him, that was still his mother and he still wanted to be around her. Eddie responds to Charlie before I can, telling him that she’s a little more sick and that she’ll have to go to a different hospital. From the other ambulance I can hear that Sheila has woken up and is now yelling for “her baby.” In all honesty, it pisses me off. How can you, for years, poison your own child yet want to call him your baby. It just didn’t make sense to me. The doors close to the ambulance with them leaving shortly after.

I let out a defeated sigh as Buck and Eddie move towards me. With Buck standing in front of me, Eddie moves to my left, something I had noticed that he had subconsciously started doing ever since he proposed. Nonetheless, I appreciated them being close to me in this moment. My mind needed them to help with the emotional toll this call had taken on me. I feel like I should’ve done more. I knew the other day that something wasn’t right and yet I bit my tongue and did nothing about it. It felt like this whole situation was my fault.

“I should’ve gotten here sooner.” I think to myself, or so I thought. Not realizing that I had said it out loud, I move my eyes away from Charlie’s ambulance and meet the concerned stares of Eddie and Buck. They both knew how I took certain things personal. A call like this with an outcome like this? Oh yeah, I was going to take it personally. Both men move to say something before Captain Mehta, unknowingly, interrupts them.

“Lieutenant, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?”

“Yeah, that would be gre—” My sentence is cut short as a loud gunshot rings out nearby. It feels as though time stopped. Everything and everyone seems to be moving in slow motion. Looking up at Buck, my brain registers that he is now covered in blood. It’s on his face, his neck, and his shirt. Has he always been in that shirt? It’s not our uniform. Thinking of the uniform, my uniform feels wet all of a sudden. Why would my shirt be wet when it’s not raining outside? Time is still moving incredibly slow as I look towards Eddie, who now has an absolute look of terror on his face. It takes me way too long to realize why my shirt is wet and what’s causing the cold sensation to move down my body. I’ve been shot. Someone shot me. Glancing down at my shoulder, I can see the gnarly hole in uniform shirt that accompanies the new hole that has made its home in my body. My breath catches in my throat, and it feels impossible to stand upright. My knees give out on their own and I feel myself slowly drop to the ground. All at once, time seems to catch back up to me and I find myself staring across the road at Eddie and Buck. They are behind the cover of the firetruck with Mehta appearing to be holding them back. My body grows cold quickly, and my head begins to feel heavy, like it weighs thirty tons. There's a weird, wet sensation on my head and I realize that my blood is soaking through my hair, aiding the cold sensation I’m already feeling. How odd…

Lying on the cold, now blood-soaked ground, I can hear Captain Mehta yelling through the radio that there’s been shots fired. And that a Paramedic has been shot. My brain constantly reminds me, maybe to keep me conscious, that it’s me. I’ve been shot. I’m the Paramedic that’s been shot. Glancing up through blurry vision, that seems to be growing darker by the second, I can still register that Eddie and Buck are lying on the ground, yelling for me. At this point though, my hearing feels like I’m lying on the ocean floor, and they are on the shore, whispering to me. Despite my best attempts at keeping them open, I can feel my eyes shutting.

When I come to, it’s pain that has awoken me. Someone has grabbed my arm. The one will a new hole in it. “I’ve been shot,” I tell myself again and again. Maybe if I keep saying it, my brain will keep me awake. And alive. There’s someone screaming in pain. My brain doesn’t register that it’s me screaming in pain only that someone is screaming. It distracts me long enough that I realize that I might not have been the only one shot. Eddie and Buck are here too. One of them might’ve been shot. Oh God. How was I going to explain this to Christopher or Maddie that their loved one had been shot? While trying to process everything that’s going on, I realize that somehow I’m standing on my own two feet. But it’s not for long as I quickly find myself being thrown over someone’s shoulder and passed along to someone else. I feel like I’m flying as I now see that I’m in the back of the fire truck. Why am I looking up at the roof of the truck?

Items and faces blur together again for a moment and my hearing once more sounds like I’m being dunked under water. It sounds like there’s more gunfire but at this point I can’t really tell what’s going on. A face appears above me and I think it’s Eddie. It’s hard to tell as my eyes keep closing on their own. There’s a sharp tug at my shirt and my vision clears up from the jolt of pain that follows it. Eddie is leaning over me while Buck is slamming thick gauze over the new hole in my shoulder. I’ve been shot. I have been shot. This doesn’t make sense. I was just on a Wellness check call. How am shot? I’ve been shot? Eddie appears again in front of my face and this time I notice the blood covering him. My head falls to the side to check on Buck where I find that he too is blanketed in blood. Somehow though, he’s absolutely covered by it. I can see their mouths moving but I’m not hearing anything that they’re saying.

My brain focuses in again. Eddie and Buck are soaked in blood. Were they shot too? Buck is still holding my shoulder with what feels like all of the strength in his body. If it didn’t hurt so much, I would crack some sort of joke with him about it. Everything blurs again and when I come to this time, they are both leaning over me, and I can finally hear what they are saying. This time, I can see the genuine fear in both of the boys eyes.

“Stay with me baby, you got to stay with us!” Eddie pleads, he can’t sit still as he keeps moving over top of me. His eyes are crazed as he looks all over the place as if he’s searching for something. Another bullet wound maybe? I’ve never seen this look in his eye and I don’t like it. I want to soothe him and tell him that I’m fine but the only thing I manage to cough out is,

“Are y’all hurt?” They look at me like I’m crazy before subconsciously looking over themselves, and each other, before answering. Buck opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His mouth and jaw twitch to move but it’s like that’s all he can do in the moment.

“No, no, no baby we’re okay. We’re okay, okay? You’re going to be okay and we’re okay” Eddie tells me, struggling to get the words out. In the background I can hear what sounds like Mehta yelling over the radio, “…A Paramedic has been shot…It’s the Lieutenant from the 118!”

Eddie and Buck are back in my line of sight now, but it doesn’t last long. It’s almost like my body needed the reassurance that they were okay so I could rest. Their mouths are moving again, I think, there are words coming out of them. The only thing I feel like I know is that I have a hole in my shoulder, and I’ve been shot. Words are muffled and time feels like it’s slowing down again. I don’t want to die. I want to get married to Eddie Diaz. I want to spend the right of my life with him. This isn’t fair. I love him. And I know he loves me. This isn’t fair to him. Or to me. My head lolls back to the side and I feel someone’s hand straighten it back up. It’s Eddie and I can see the tears rolling down his cheeks. It’s cutting through the blood like a knife, making a clear pathway down his face. He’s talking to me and the way that I long to hear what he’s saying is unnatural. Somone is placing an oxygen mask on my face, and everything goes quiet. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I try to look up Eddie one last time. I don’t know if this is it, but I want my last look at the world to be of my world. Eddie Diaz. I don’t know if can sense it or see the change in my eyes, but something shifts in his. Although I can’t hear him. I can somewhat see him. He looks even more panicked, more petrified and I don’t how he manages it. I’m just really tired, and cold. There’s a hole in my shoulder….and I’ve been shot. By the time the truck feels as though it’s coming to a sudden stop, I lose the battle to consciousness and slowly drift off...

#911 imagine #imagines #eddie diaz #angst #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #ryan guzman

[talonabraxas]

Celestial Buddha Lotus by Talon Abraxas

The Four Noble Truths

One: Suffering exists. Life is suffering. Suffering is real and universal. Suffering has many causes: loss, sickness, pain, failure, and the impermanence of pleasure.

Two: There is a cause of suffering. Suffering is due to attachment. It is the desire to have and control things. It can take many forms: craving of sensual pleasures; the desire for fame; the desire to avoid unpleasant sensations, like fear, anger, or jealousy.

Three: There is an end to suffering. Attachment can be overcome. Suffering ceases with the final liberation of Nirvana. The mind experiences complete freedom, liberation, and non-attachment. It lets go of any desire or craving.

Four: In order to end suffering, follow the Eightfold Path.

The fundamentals of Buddhism are to be found in the Buddha’s first sermon. In it, he expounded the “Four Noble Truths.” These explain that suffering is inherent to life; that it is caused by attachment, desire, and delusion; that these things can be overcome; and that there is a prescribed way to overcome them.

While this can seem pessimistic — the whole thing is popularly summarized as “life is suffering” — Buddhists tend to see it more as an accurate diagnosis of “life necessarily involves suffering” rather than a nihilistic statement that “life is nothing but misery.” Importantly, the third truth is that there is a way past suffering. That route away from suffering and toward nirvana — a difficult-to-capture idea of the state beyond the cycle of suffering and reincarnation — is the primary focus of millions of Buddhists.

Dependent arising

“All formations are transient; all formations are subject to suffering; all things are without a self. Therefore, whatever there be of form, of feeling, of perception, mental formations, or consciousness, whether past, present, or future, one’s own or external, gross or subtle, lofty or low, far or near, one should understand according to reality and true wisdom: ‘This does not belong to me; this am I not; this is not my Self.’”

A key teaching of Buddhism is the idea of “dependent arising” — it is one of the few tenets that every school of Buddhism agrees on. This maintains that everything is devoid of inherent existence. Everything that exists is caused by something else and will cause other things. Nothing is independent; every phenomenon depends on something else. Metaphysically speaking, nothing has an independent essence and can exist in perpetuity. This also means that when you try to find your “self,” there is no single, enduring, isolated thing to point to.

Buddhism teaches that a great deal of the suffering in our lives comes from the idea that things are permanent, unchanging, and unconnected to everything else. The doctrine of “dependent arising” teaches that everything is in flux, that nothing is permanent, and that even we aren’t as enduring as we might like to think.

[sketching-shark]

A hungry fox women, with thanks for the prompt from @witchysolfan

#fox woman #horror #blood #fun fact that apparently fox women like livers and hearts best of all #on account of those organs holding the life force of humans #& supernatural foxes need that to sustain their own long lifespans #all life depends on ending others and such #shark's sketches