#that i don't think there was ever anything he could have done differently to yield a better outcome

[trashlie]

Rand the Damned

Something that has become really apparent to me about ILY, especially the more I have these deep dives into the characterizations, is that ultimately, ILY explores characters who are trying to survive. Nearly every character in ILY is clearly someone trying to survive their circumstances, and while some are very obvious (Shinae, Nol, Kousuke) others you need to examine differently in order to see they, too, are trying to survive (Alyssa, Rand, Yui). Something I feel that ILY does especially well is the interpersonal relationships based on both context and circumstances, and why certain characters are able to better get along with each other and others continue to butt heads. For instance, Nol and Kousuke have always struggled because Nol was never able to see what Kousuke's real battle is - that his quest for Rand's acceptance has been but a small part of his psyche. Without understanding how Kousuke has been manipulated, gaslit, and literally drugged, how could Nol ever begin to understand why Kousuke treats him that way?

Abuse and trauma alters peoples' brains. It's not something that you just... one day wake up from and move on. We will spend our whole lives trying to unlearn our unhealthy behaviors, our coping mechanisms and that's for those of us who haven't experienced such brain-altering abuse and trauma. A very common theme of ILY remains repeating cycles - that people who never get to heal, or don't heal in a healthy way, will continue to perpetuate their cycles of abuse, of their trauma, of their unhealthy learned behaviors. Someone who grows up feeling like they are not allowed to express emotions, feeling like they must tiptoe around others' emotions is going to struggle to open up about their feelings, to feel like their emotions are valid, that they're allowed to feel and talk about what they feel, and thus, their relationships with others are impacted. What happens when they are close to someone who feels like they are being deliberately locked out and left in the dark? How do you resolve issues when you feel like you have to pack away your feelings and pretend you're fine, everything is okay?

This is something that permeates ILY at all corners, because it's fundamental to every interpersonal relationship - that we unwittingly pass on the hurt that has hurt us, that our experiences alter our perception, alter our behavior, alter the way we handle things. When I talk about Everyone x Therapy, this is what I mean. Nearly everyone in ILY carries some kind of hurt, some more deeply than others. This includes even the characters we as readers perceive as hurtful: Sangchul, Rand, Yui. Perhaps even Gun Kim, but frankly that is something I cannot bring myself to get into and I think we lack enough information to examine (but even in his case we can look at his father and glean how Gun would turn out the way he did).

Perhaps this will eventually become a series, where I sit and examine some of these characters more closely, as I have with Kousuke and Alyssa. But at this time I'm focusing on Rand, because I find him to be an incredibly polarizing character depending on the take you have. How dare you sympathize with someone who has been such a terrible father tends to be the main gut reaction, but as with all parents of ILY, there is no such thing as a good, perfect parent. At the end of the day, parents are people also trying to navigate their lives with the extra responsibility of someone else they're meant to take care of, to look after, to raise, with few resources and no guidebooks. The one thing ILY has taught me is to re-examine my own life, my relationship with my parents and the ways they hurt vs helped me, and their circumstances. Ultimately, we will always be victims of our circumstances, the results of our experiences.

So! Let's talk about Rand!

Firstmost and foremost, I want it to be clear that I'm not writing this in an effort to make people care about Rand or make him into someone's favorite character, but instead just to help people better understand him and his motivations. Too often I think we fall into the trap of believing that we can only like good characters and that liking those who hurt others or cause harm makes us bad people. But ILY is a fictional story. No one is being hurt. What I think ILY provides us, though, is a deeper understanding of real people and the ways that all people are complex, no matter how shallow they seem. This isn't about making Rand into a favorite character, but instead it's about examining Rand's circumstances.

When we examine characters through a lens of survival, it helps us to better understand their motivations and choices, as well as what is at risk and what they stand to lose which heavily factors into their motivations and why they make the choices they do. There's a lot we still don't know about the nature of Rand and Yui's relationship: were they ever lovers; did she ever fool him into thinking she was something else; was it always a business arrangement? This leads us to further questions, like did he meet Nessa before or after he married Yui? Because so much of ILY is about these cycles and parallels, we can look at Rand and assume that maybe, much like Nol has tried to do, Rand denied himself something he wanted in favor of something else, something he thought he needed more. As a businessman, it's easy to see how perhaps he and Yui were an arranged marriage, something not for love but instead for mutual benefit (and this feels even more plausible given how likely it is that Yui herself was not allowed to inherit the company but instead needed someone who would be adopted into the family via marriage and treated like a true Hirahara and needed him in order to have any role in the family business that she coveted). If Rand knew Nessa before, perhaps he told himself that what he felt about Nessa was a thing that would pass, something he could live without. Perhaps he convinced himself that the ends would justify the means, that his life would be better if he made this choice and denied himself something else he wanted. Love? Love can come and go. You can move on from anyone, anything.

But it's clear to us that Rand never moved on from Nessa. Long after he lost her, he carried her with him in that Bible. He may have told Shinae that it didn't hold luck for him anymore, that it hasn't for a long time, but that doesn't mean it stopped mattering to him. In a time when Nol needed it most, Rand gave up something that had brought him comfort in solace, in hopes that it can provide something of comfort for him, too.

What has been something of a safety raft for Rand to cling to as he treads the waters of survival has now been passed to his son, and I think this is as good a time to examine Rand through this lens of survival, and to better understand why he has made the choices he has and further, that I fear no choice Rand could have made would have been the right choice; it never existed, he was always damned if you do, damned if you don't.

A special interest of quimchee's appears to be female-enacted domestic violence. This has come up a couple times before, and is a theme she's talked about before on streams about wanting to explore, but I think we are seeing that quietly explored in ILY as well, though it's not the forefront of the story. Yui as a character very much is one who leads a reign of reign of terror, who so confidently believes that she is the hero of the story and everyone who stands against her opposes her, and thus are an obstacle to be taken out. Now, I still intend to write at great length about how I view Yui and what are her motivations and drivers, but the watered down summary is: I believe Yui was once the victim of abuse in addition to having always felt like she is lesser simply for being born a woman and bears a grudge against men and deeply resents them for what they are so easily afforded that she is not, that she was never given the opportunity or the space to heal and internalized this to believe that people deserve what happens to them, that those who are incapable of fighting back are deserving of what happens to them. This is integral in understanding Yui and how, yes, Rand's hands have always been tied by her.

I think when I say this, people think this immediately excuses Rand from the hurt he's caused, but it is so very important that we examine the ways that Rand's hands are tied, so that we can understand how nothing could really have been different, to understand why (in his eyes) he is doing the best he was able to. Again, an underlying theme is that people very much are often the victims of their circumstances. Yui herself even touches on this, noting that she is aware she is afforded opportunities, privilege, that most aren't. She herself also takes advantage of circumstances, in order to better orchestrate what she wants. For instance, consider the way Kousuke was left isolated - she took advantage of her husband's unhealthy work/life balance and further drove a wedge between him and his son so that Kousuke would forever feel like he is working towards an (unobtainable) goal, so that Rand would always be greatly out of reach, so that they could never become equals, be peers, so that Kousuke would always feel that feeling of inferiority and then she learned to utilize that inferiority as a weapon against Nol as well as to further isolate Kousuke, leave him dependent upon her.

Yui knows what she's doing, and Rand's circumstances are very much the base of this analysis.

What was the nature of their relationship? Was it simply a business arrangement Rand thought stood to benefit him? Or, a possibility I explore a lot more lately, was it possible that Yui tricked him in some way, took advantage of a more sympathetic nature perhaps Rand once possessed? I don't think we necessarily need to know yet what the circumstances are, because what matters is where that left Rand.

The mukoyoshi theory becomes ever more important the more we learn about these characters, and as we view their situations through the lens of this theory, we start to better understand the dynamics it's created. Supposing this theory holds true - and I believe it must, since we have canonical proof now Rand has taken the Hirahara name as his own - it sets the following precedent: through marriage to Yui, Rand has been adopted into the family as though he himself is a true Hirahara born of their blood, and as it appears that men are afforded more rights/opportunities, in some way Rand holds more rights in Yui's family than Yui herself does. She could not inherit the family company herself and instead had to marry someone else in order to carry on the lineage, had to give birth to a son to carry it on from them. I'm not going to get too deeply into this, because I think this is for another post, but again, this precedence is important because we need to understand why Yui would resent Rand for reasons beyond his affair, why from the very moment he married her he was likely trapped in her web, and why his circumstances were always against him.

Truly the greatest "mistake" Rand likely made was marrying Yui, but we're well beyond that now.

Yui very much is a controlling, abusive partner and it's clear to us now how she's been manipulating and abusing far longer than Rand's infidelity existed. We can see in Kousuke's early memories that the agitation between Rand and Yui in their clashing parenting styles had already become a thing that was wearing him down, that she gloated from her throne where she maintained the upper hand. Yui possesses incredible finesse when it comes to how she orchestrates things, how she nudges the truth, how she hardly has to do any heavy lifting for things to fall right into place. There's a whole essay that could be written on Rand's role in both the company and as a father and the crux of it always comes back to: he was damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. As part of the mukoyoshi concept, Rand has a duty to the company he has inherited, to the family he has been adopted by, to oversee things to ensure things run as well as they can. But as a husband and father, he has an obligation to his family. We see it often in businessmen, in people of the corporate world whose entire livelihoods depend on their career that they must make a choice. At this time it appears as though Yui's father regards Rand favorably, but would he have if Rand had chosen to downsize his responsibilities? Had Rand chosen to be around more as Kousuke was being raised? Especially if it's as we think with the Hirahara family, where childrearing is seen as a woman's role, that this is what Yui should be focusing on and that Rand, the mukoyoshi, had a role to fulfill separate of that?

When Yui told Kousuke that they are different from others, she was not wrong. We cannot view Rand through the same lens we would a man of lesser stature than him. We have to view him through his circumstances.

And his circumstances lead us here: to a man whose wife has probably been playing mind games with him from the get go who is trying his best both as an obligation to the family and his company and also to himself. We get enough glimpses into Kousuke's past to know that it's not that Rand had no interest in his son's life. In fact, Rand on many occasions is seen trying to instill something in Kousuke, trying to help him be aware of both his opportunities and privilege as well as the limitlessness of all that he could grow to be. I can only speculate, but with what we know, I have no doubts there was a lot of clever orchestration on Yui's part as to Rand's availability. They're both chairpersons of the company, and yet one of them was far more tied up - the one of them who is seen as more valuable to the family and company.

I want it made clear: what exists between Rand and Yui (and Kousuke) predates the affair and Nol. Yui was never a scorned lover who took things out on her lover's mistress and son. Had Rand never had an affair, he would still have been in this predicament with Yui and Kousuke, would have always struggled to reach his son as Yui continued to drive that wedge, to orchestrate their differences, to run interference. It was always Yui's intention that Rand be someone so completely out of reach of Kousuke that he would always be stuck vying for his attention, always trying to reach and surpass him, always so hungry or that approval that never came through. It just happened to be that Rand’s affair yielded another child, a potential heir (because it’s through Rand’s blood that the company goes), that she married this commoner man and afforded him everything she’d coveted and he embarrassed her, threw it all in her face, and made her look bad, created a threat to Kousuke’s position. But she already resented him, I think. She already had every intention of using Kousuke to take back what she believes is hers.

At some point, Rand must have grown exhausted, and maybe he gave up. Was that right, was that fair, when he had a child? When giving up hurt that child? When it comes to Rand, I think a lot about the safety demonstrations on airplanes, when they tell you not to try to help others (like your children) until you have helped yourself, until you've got your flotation device, your oxygen mask. If Rand himself is drowning, with Yui running laps around him running him ragged, how can he possibly help Kousuke? How can he possibly keep walking out into a hurricane, getting buffeted and thrown backwards by the wind, using all your energy just trying to catch up, much less ever getting where you need to be?

And that's the thing. When I say Rand's hands are tied, I don't mean it to absolve him - I say it to explain him. That Rand was always losing, that Yui has always had the upper hand. Rand has spent all of his time simply trying to catch up, much less ever getting to make an attack, much less ever getting to be a father.

I think a lot about the fact that at one time, Rand and Yui were separated, but they clearly never divorced. Why? What did he stand to lose if they did? I don't even mean just in his livelihood - though he certainly stood to lose a lot, and what happens to a mukoyoshi if they divorce, what assets would he lose? But more importantly: Rand stood to lose Kousuke. Even married to Yui he cannot protect Kousuke, but to be outside her reach? How much worse could it have been? Kousuke is already so incredibly isolated but we also know that Rand has tried to be Kousuke's father, that he has tried to reach out to him in ways that never reached Kousuke because of the interference Yui ran, because of the mindset that she had instilled in him as a young child that became such an inherent belief to him, because his love was commodified so that nothing he did or said to Kousuke could ever get through to this brain-washed child.

Another aspect of Rand's circumstances that are worth exploring is: he grew up an orphan. He was never adopted, he aged out of the system. Rand never had anyone to rely on, anyone to convey that warmth and love to him as a family might. He aged out and then took his life into his hands and became a self-made man with only his own back to rely on. Think about what that does to a person. Think about the way that might warp their perception of people and kindness and love. Maybe this was why it was so easy for him to choose a marriage for convenience. Maybe this was why he could pass up on the opportunity for real love. Maybe from a young age Rand was disillusioned, thought the world had nothing to offer him - the parallels between him and Nol are honestly staggering. Wouldn't it be so easy to make the choices he did, only to come to regret them later? To get a taste for something you thought impossible, or maybe something you thought you could give up, and be haunted by it?

It's not hard to surmise that Nessa must have been his true love, the one he could not quite give up, the one he couldn't let go of no matter how many years it had been since he made his choices, since he lost her, since everything went so wrong. And I think that as a result, it means that no matter what, his relationship with Nol would always, always be complicated. Nol would always be a reminder of what he had and what he lost - both in love and also in himself.

The parallels are truly staggering, and they extend far beyond the Rand Yui Nessa/Nol Alyssa Shinae cycle repeating itself. The kind of man young Nol described Rand as very much sounds like Yeonggi, like the kind of person Nol presented himself as. Yeonggi wasn't a mask just for Nol's friends - this was who everyone saw him as, including his family. Yeonggi was a means of staying off peoples' radars - never being so bad that he is in trouble, never being so great that he's also in trouble (with Yui and Kousuke). He was pleasant, got along with people, never caused trouble if he could help it. Not once was he roped into the family company - for better or for worse. He joked and laughed a lot, he seemed to always be there for friends. He was so much of what Nessa once saw in Rand.

Was it just that Nessa was the only person who drew that out of Rand? Or was it more of a parallel to Nol, that no matter how hard his life, these were integral core parts of him? Was he, at some point, taken advantage of? Did he trust the wrong person, reach out to someone undeserving? Was his kindness and friendship misconstrued by someone with far more nefarious intentions than he expected?

Something I can't help but think about a lot is the way that Rand always says what he means, but in cryptic ways, in ways Nol - and even often readers - cannot see through, that we have to reread again later. He never explains himself, never says what he means, and what is Nol to do with it, when everything Rand says comes off like a criticism of him no matter what? Much like Rand, Nol is damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. Does he please Rand or does he protect himself? Ultimately, they both have Nol's survival in mind, but one looks far less like it.

Consider Rand's words to Nol at the Kim formal - I don't deny that Rand said truly awful things. Does he fully mean what he says? Probably, in more ways than he can explain. When he tells Nol that he should be at Alyssa's side before someone less pathetic than him catches her attention, it feels both like "Do not leave her alone in a place like this with people like this because she will naively trust the wrong person and end up in a dangerous situation" and also "Behaving like this will drive away people like her". Is this the advice Nol needs? From his perspective, no. From his perspective, Rand finds him pathetic, finds him frivolous, thinks he's childish for being so lonely that he seeks out friendship at any opportunity, thinks he acts out just to spite him.

But from Rand's perspective, perhaps he thinks he is preparing Nol for this life - the family, the company, their social circle - the only way he can. He cannot reach out to Nol. He cannot be a father to him, lest Nol get punished more simply for existing. Rand knows all too well. He knows all too well what Yui is capable of - what she has done - and knows that in order to protect Nol, he had to create a buffer, the distance. In a way, it's like he sacrificed his right to be his father in an effort to keep him safe. For better or worse, Nol belongs to this society, too. He, too, needs to be aware of those around him, know who he can trust. In Rand's perspective, maybe Nol DOES look like he's foolish, going around trying to befriend people who might really be someone looking to take advantage of his kindness, who might be in Yui's pocket, who might be someone who doesn't have Nol's well being in mind. In staying with Alyssa, he's also keeping Nol out of harm's way, because he's not getting involved with anything.

Even though what happened to Shinae at the formal was clearly about Kousuke, Gun, and possibly Rand, it did still ultimately involve Nol. It did still ultimately get him involved and hurt - he wound up arrested and blamed for a crime he didn't commit and later took the blame for in court. Rand isn't entirely wrong: when Nol gets involved, it leads to more trouble, because Yui will take any and every opportunity to make his life worse. Even though this wasn't her ultimate goal (and it could be seen that Nol pleading guilty is not what she expected because Nol needs to be around and near Kousuke in order to be effective against him) it still worked to her advantage that it further plays into Nol's image that the public holds against him, that ensures Yui will be believed over Nol.

Rand isn't wrong: Nol underestimates Yui greatly, because he believes everything is about him and doesn't see how much worse it is, how much more of a monster she is, that this isn't about the illegitimate bastard son being a blight against her marriage, that it was always about so much more. And unfortunately we have seen that Rand is correct about other things, too - about how Nol's emotions get the best of him and while the "shove your feelings down and repress them" route is also not correct and healthy, we can see and at least understand why Rand operates the way he does, why he worries the way he does about Nol.

When I say Rand's hands are tied, I mean this: I mean that Rand has never had the opportunity to be a father to his children because Yui has deliberately run interference between him and one and if he shows any sign of affection, any sign of preferential treatment, any indication that he is trying to protect the other, it would make things worse for him.

He knows this.

Rand probably has an inkling about the night Nol was taken away - the first time he lost Nol. More than anyone else, Rand knows who Yui is, but has always been powerless against her. Without any proof of what she does, what can he do? How do you tell people that she is abusive when she doesn't lay a hand on you? When people make jokes of male domestic abuse survivors? How do you get people to see something that barely exists - because Yui doesn't have to get her hands dirty, because she never has to be direct. How do you make people see it?

When I say Rand's hands are tied, I mean whatever choice he makes would never be perfect, would never be right. What if he did it, left Yui and went to be with Nessa and raise Nol. What would change? Kousuke would be left even more alone. At least until now Kousuke felt that he wasn't good enough to receive Rand's care (even as Rand gave it) but what if he was convinced he was abandoned? And anyway, would Yui have stopped had Rand left her? I doubt it. It was never about the infidelity. If anything, it might have been worse. How dare this man, this commoner, come into her family and embarrass her - THEM - this way, to be given everything no one would give her just because he married her and then throw it away for what? Love? For a healthy relationship? To throw away everything she has coveted and worked so hard for? It would be such a slap to the face, an insult to her.

I don't think there was anything Rand could have done that would be "right". Yui would never let him know peace even if he left. If he fought harder, tried harder, maybe she'd have taken him down sooner. Perhaps not - she needed him to get this far so that Kousuke had someone to work towards, so that Kousuke can surpass him - but that doesn't mean she wouldn't have run him more ragged.

Do I agree with every choice he makes? Of course not. But I acknowledge that in his position, his choices are limited. I also acknowledge that in a man like him who has had to repress his emotions (lest Yui have something more to use against him), who has had to deny that he deeply cares (lest Yui continue to use that against him, to leverage it against him), who has been trying his damndest to survive and to help his sons survive when at every opportunity Yui is there to interfere has limited his choices. I understand where his agitation and fear and anger meet and how sometimes they are the same: how he wishes that Nol was never born because none of this would be so bad because if he'd never fathered another child then he wouldn't stand the possibility of being heir there would be no threat - that Nessa might still be alive, that Nol would never have existed to endure the abuse he did. I understand how he can mean and not mean the terrible things because he knows his role in all of this - that this was never about the infidel but it's still about the infidel, that Nol was always in danger no matter where he was. Reading 149 was the first time I really noticed, on a more immediate level - the way Rand speaks in double meanings, and how his fear and anger come out so often in what he says to Nol, because of how much he fears for him, because of how helpless he’s always been to protect him. “Why do you have to be my son?” Because maybe he both regrets that Nol is his son but more than that - what it means for him to be his son, the danger it put him in – that were he anyone else’s son, Yui wouldn’t have cared about him. He wouldn’t be in a position where he ever had to stand before the judge at all, let alone plead guilty for a crime he didn’t commit. “Why am I even trying, all of the effort will just go to waste”. And is he wrong? No matter the outcome, what good is all this effort? Not only that Nol himself can’t read Rand’s mind, but what if it went differently? Yui doesn’t stop - she has no intention and Rand knows it! If not this, it would be something else! “I should have just sent you away to boarding school from the very start.” Again, I don’t deny that a part of Rand probably means what he says, but I think the secondary meaning is still clear - at least if he’d sent Nol away maybe, just maybe, it could have protected him better. Maybe Rand thought keeping him close would be better, where he could see what was going on, maybe he worried he’d be in more danger if he couldn’t monitor him. Maybe a part of him couldn’t help but send away that one tie he had to Nessa - their child - had wanted to protect him for her.

I think that's the difficult thing about Rand. On some level, he acknowledges that thing are worse because Nol exists - but not in a "I hate my child" way but the guilt of a man who knows his child has suffered for his choices, the guilt of a man who knows that two peoples' (three when we include Kousuke, four when we include his own) lives have been ruined because of choices he made. It's not that Rand doesn't love his children - it's that he loves them so incredibly much and he is powerless to help them, that the effort he makes is never good enough that it makes it worse that it can't get through. That's the great tragedy: Rand was always damned if you do, damned if you don't, and it doesn't absolve him of the hurt he's caused Nol, but I also step back and acknowledge: what could he have done differently, that wouldn't have further endangered Nol? On some level, Rand has done what he thought was right. Only in hindsight can you look back and see how your choices were wrong, but even in hindsight you can only speculate, can only suppose. Would it have been better to send Nol away to boarding school, where he could have been away from everything? But that’s the thing with Yui, isn’t it? Her reach seems to extend as far as she wills it and she always gets her way. If she didn’t want Nol to go to a boarding school, she’d still find a way to stop it. And what if Rand had said screw it, stood up to her? Everything Rand did was ultimately to keep Nol and Kousuke alive, even if it was at the detriment of their relationship. He could have more openly defied Yui, but would she have let him get away with it? And who would protect Nol and Kousuke in his absence, if she did away with him sooner rather than later, if he went from being a fun game to an obstacle to be eliminated? 

Rand was always doomed to fail. That is the thing about Yui's trap - she was always set to have that advantage, Rand has always been trying to keep up. There was never a route where he succeeds here, because she always has the upperhand. What could Rand do for either of his sons that wouldn't have backfired? In a way, Rand's game has really been about the long haul. At some point, he must've known he'd never get to be their fathers. He tried! He continued to try. His methods aren't good but he tries to protect Nol, he tries to get through to Kousuke, he tries to give them the comfort he never had the opportunity to, but it's too late, it's all too late, but they are alive and that is what matters.

When Rand shows up after that night of absolute concern and worry, concerned about both of his sons, for the second time he runs the risk of losing Nol. He knows that it's too late, that nothing he can do at this point will help. He knows that at this point it's better to walk away, to leave Nol in the hands of those who can openly love him and openly take care of him, in the hands of those who don't endanger his life for caring. But we know that Rand loves him, no matter how much he has let his fear and anger mix up. We know what it has cost him, what he has lost.

The version of Rand that Nessa spoke of has never shown up. I don't think it's not that he never existed - it's that somewhere along the way he lost himself, the price he paid for perhaps the mistakes he made or the greatness he amassed. Maybe it was both. But he lost himself. He lost his sense of self, his identity. He lost both his sons, in more than one way. Rand, like so many others, is a character whose choices are rooted in his efforts at survival - but unlike others who are struggling to survive themselves, Rand's choices have been rooted so heavily in trying to help his children survive, too. He, more than anyone else, knows how dangerous Yui truly is, knows what she is capable of, knows that this is not only about Nol was never about Nol or the infidel, that it was always about more.

And yes, part of the tragedy is that when it comes to these cycles of abuse, sometimes the abused goes on to abuse, too. Rand closed himself off, repressed his feelings, tried to pretend he doesn't care, tried to hide how much he cared, and it still had ramifications. He did this to protect himself but look how it hurt others. And had done the opposite, it would have further hurt him and them. Something we as an audience come to realize is that Yui is so skilled at her manipulation, her execution of abuse, how she uses everything against everyone. Even her own son tries to hide his interests from her, tries to shut her out of his life because he, too, knows all too well what happens when Yui catches wind of any interest. So Rand closes himself off, he becomes an isolated fortress, an impenetrable island of a man that no one can reach and can reach no one. Maybe it's better, in his mind, that he was a cold, terrible father than one who couldn't protect him.

But the unfortunate truth is: there was so little Rand could ever do to protect them. He failed them, and not for lack of trying, but regardless, it was a failure still. And worse, because he was so blinded to what was happening, because so much of it was happening out of his line of sight, not only did he fail to protect Nol, but he drove him to another unforseen danger, one that he had hoped might be a life raft after all.

In the end, a man struggling cannot do much to save others when eh can barely save himself.

In the end, when Yui ties someone's hands, she does so expertly.

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #Randulph Hirahara #Yui Hiraha #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Kousuke Hirahara #Nessa Lochlainn #there's a lot going on in this post and it's mostly me exploring my new favorite subject: that in some way everyone is trying to survive #that Rand is such a polarizing character but also in his position what could he have done differently and it been better? #that this doesn't absolve him of the hurt he has caused but that also as a readers i can understand his choices #and that it sucks #everything about ILY is a tragedy the more you look at it #even Yui is a tragedy I think #and it's just so devastating that these tragedies continue to hurt over and over and over #I understand why people hate Rand and that's fine but #i also hope people understand that Rand has very much had his hands tied all along #that i don't think there was ever anything he could have done differently to yield a better outcome #and that is so depressing

[persephonememes]

* (  THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

❛ i was just really, really sad. ❜

❛ dead doesn’t mean gone. ❜

❛ i thought i was going to die too. ❜

❛ it only felt like dying because, actually, i was still alive. ❜

❛ to truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them. ❜

❛ we can’t count on the past. ❜

❛ we think we have it trapped in our memories, but memories fade. ❜

❛ you’ll find it much quieter out here. ❜

❛ any of us could die at any moment. ❜

❛ she/he was my anchor. ❜

❛ i’m a lot braver than people think. ❜

❛ nothing holds, and all things change, given time. ❜

❛ change does not often announce itself. ❜

❛ all things fade. ❜

❛ time takes all things. ❜

❛ it is the way of the world. ❜

❛ the past recedes, memories fade, and so, true, does the spirit. ❜

❛ everything yields to time, even the soul. ❜

❛ there’s a difference between feeling good and feeling alive. ❜

❛ funerals are for the living. it’s up to the living to decide what they can and cannot bear. ❜

❛ i don’t know why brilliant young women are always punished. ❜

❛ you don’t have to lose yourself to find happiness, you know. ❜

❛ i was having the strangest dream. ❜

❛ what have you got when your back’s against the wall when there’s nothing left for you but faith? ❜

❛ sometimes, right can seem wrong, and wrong can seem right. ❜

❛ do you know what life is really all about? ❜

❛ save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first. ❜

❛ death is something to mourn, not fear. ❜

❛ i wasn't going to ask you if you're alright because i don't like being lied to. so, what's wrong? ❜

❛ everyone is exhaustive. even the best ones. ❜

❛ we are meant to die. it's natural. ❜

❛ every living thing grows out of every dying thing. ❜

❛ that's where all it's beauty lies, you know, in the mortality of the thing. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. it's what everybody's got, if you get down to it. ❜

❛ if you can't feel anything, then i'll feel everything for the both of us. ❜

❛ but no one is going anywhere, okay? ❜

❛ you shouldn't be thinking of losing each-other at all. ❜

❛ don't let that loom over your happiness right now. ❜

❛ it is rare what you've got. ❜

❛ what is the catch? ❜

❛ i’m not running, from anything and it hurts me when you say that. ❜

❛ perfectly splendid. ❜

❛ you have to promise me that you’ll stay in your room. ❜

❛ none of us are blameless. ❜

❛ on a scale of zero to american, how would you rate her? ❜

❛ it’s such a draining thing, dealing with children. ❜

❛ i have an inquiring mind. ❜

❛ we both know you don’t make mistakes. ❜

❛ let me guess, you are to be our very own mary poppins? ❜

❛ i hope she haunts that fucker forever. ❜

❛ why should anyone hate a lake? ❜

❛ let me show you just how beautiful you are. ❜

❛ it’s just you and me then. ❜

❛ look at you all flush. you’re pretty when you blush. ❜

❛ being with him might be scary at times but, it’s also exciting and fun. ❜

❛ and for the first time in my life, that little voice in my head saying i’m not good enough has disappeared. ❜

❛ i’ve never felt so alive. ❜

❛ i swear, you’re such a bore, and you don’t know when the leave well enough alone. ❜

❛ sometimes people just need to be alone. ❜

❛ i couldn’t sleep. i feel like i can never sleep again, frankly. ❜

❛ haven’t we done this already? ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ don’t leave your room at night. ❜

❛ the past is always present. ❜

❛ the stories we tell each other have a way of changing. ❜

❛ love is a haunting melody that i have never mastered and i fear i never will. ❜

❛ no good ever comes from dwelling on the worst. ❜

❛ you can’t choose who you love. ❜

❛ ghosts do not have to be scary. they can be comforting. ❜

❛ the heart is a fragile thing, and it can break in many different ways. ❜

❛ people often fear what they cannot understand. ❜

❛ we are all haunted in some way, by the things we have lost or the things we have done. ❜

❛ death is not the end, it’s just a door we all have to go through. ❜

❛ the past cannot be changed, but it can still hurt us. ❜

❛ the things we bury have a way of finding their way back to the surface. ❜

❛ some people are born to be alone, and others are born to be together. ❜

❛ ghosts are memories, and memories are what make us who we are. ❜

❛ the dead don’t really leave us. they live on in the memories we have of them. ❜

❛ the more we try to run from something, the more it chases us. ❜

❛ we all have a shadow self, the part of us that we don’t like to admit exists. ❜

❛ the world is full of secrets, and some are best left buried. ❜

❛ the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes that can be a terrifying thing. ❜

❛ every relationship is a dance, and both people need to be willing to take a step forward. ❜

❛ life can be cruel, but it can also be beautiful. ❜

❛ we are all just playing a part, but some roles are harder to shake off than others. ❜

❛ the past is written, but the future is still unwritten. ❜

❛ the greatest tragedy in life is not death, but the things we leave unsaid. ❜

❛ i do not like this game. ❜

❛ i'm actually pretty in love with you. ❜

❛ no one should ever need that much help. ❜

❛ you let me handle this part. ❜

❛ the wrong kind of love can fuck you up, follow you and make you do some really stupid shit. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #meme #memes #roleplay meme #ask memes

[runnning-outof-time]

Night and Day | Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @acupnoodle

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Summary: Arthur's got a woman that can brighten his day just by being in her presence, regardless of what he was doing before she showed up.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2051

A/N: I really think that Arthur would do this if the situation arose. Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

———

(Y/N) happily sifted through the fabric options while humming to herself. She was looking for the perfect pattern so that she could make something to surprise her boyfriend with.

"(Y/N)?" she heard her name being called, pulling her out of her own little world. She stopped her searching and turned to see Ada Shelby standing on her right. "How's the search going?"

"It's going well," (Y/N) sighed, obviously not set on any specific choice yet, "has yours yielded different results?" she then checked with the other woman.

"No," Ada shook her head before the two ladies began looking through the racks that were right in front of them. "Is there anything specific that you're looking for?" she decided to ask (Y/N), who almost didn't hear the woman's question because of how focused she was.

"Not really...just that it has to be perfect," (Y/N) responded without taking her eyes from the fabrics. Ada couldn't help but laugh at the other woman's statement, and she shook her head before going back to looking at the options.

"I'm sure he'll consider whatever you come up with perfect because you're the one making it," Ada commented with a grin, "he's fallen head over heels for you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had to stop her cheeks from heating up, and she busied herself with looking for fabrics so that her friend couldn't see her reaction. "He has not," she tried to disagree with the other woman.

"He has," Ada stuck with her statement, "the second you walk into a room, his complete attention is on you. He doesn't go a day without mentioning you in some way, and he goes through the things he'd say to you; like he's rehearsing in a way..." Ada trailed off as (Y/N) turned to her with slightly furrowed eyebrows. "Have you ever met a man that rehearses what he's gonna say to his partner?" she then questioned, a goofy grin on her face. (Y/N) sighed and rolled her eyes at Ada's statement, but she didn't fight her words. Instead she allowed the butterflies to flutter freely in her stomach. Maybe Arthur Shelby had fallen in love with her.

"I think I found the fabric that I'll use," (Y/N) announced after the two women had been searching through the options for a few more moments.

"What are you planning on making?" Ada asked curiously as she came to see the choice that (Y/N) had made.

"I'm not sure yet. I just wanted to make him something special because I know that he's been going through some strenuous times recently," (Y/N) answered as she picked up the fabric and went to where the register was placed.

——

Arthur was fuming. Three of the younger Peaky boys were standing, frozen in front of him, much like how soldiers stand in front of a general, as he stalked back and forth with a deep frown on his face. John sat in the corner of the room, smoking a cigar with a grin on his face. He always loved watching Arthur lose it...especially when the men he was 'losing it' on deserved it.

"We was just doing what you asked, sir," the middle man decided to speak up, making the angered man's eyes zero in on him. Immediately, he realized that he'd done the wrong thing.

"Don't say another fucking word," Arthur seethed, getting right up in the man's face. "Doing what I asked? Fuck doing what I asked, what you did was lose this fucking company a whole bunch of money!" he continued on, his words becoming angrier by the second, "it was a simple fucking job. We asked you to take the money and put it on the races that we specifically told you to...but you didn't fucking do that. Instead, the three of you got piss-fucking-drunk and decided to waste the money on whatever you felt like!"

"What's Tommy gonna say of this?" John commented from his seat, thoroughly enjoying what was going on.

Arthur grumbled something and shook his head before staring intently at the three men. "You three are just fucking lucky that Tommy's away on business and not here because he'd ‘ve taken your fucking ears by now for not listening to us properly," he continued on his tirade, the anger just about coursing through him now.

He didn't want to have to think about how Tommy would react to this. Arthur and John were in charge of this operation. They were in charge of picking the men out and telling them what races to go to, which horses to bet on. And in their minds, their plan was fool-proof...they didn't think of the possibility that they'd choose three men that couldn't pull it off.

"What're you gonna do to us?" the man on the left asked, fear evident in his voice.

"What am I gonna do to ya?" Arthur sneered, his eyebrows raised as he was in slight shock that the man would even decide to ask a question like this. "You really wanna know what I'm gonna do to ya?" The man swallowed thickly and nodded his head. Arthur couldn’t help but scoff at his bravery for standing up to a Shelby before he turned to look at John. "What do you think, John boy? What do you think I should do to these men who don't know how to listen to fucking orders?" he asked the man sitting in the chair with raised eyebrows.

"I don't know, Arthur..." John trailed off with a grin as he took a drag from the cigar perched between his fingers. "What punishment does one give to men who don't know how to do their fucking jobs?"

Arthur muttered something incoherent as he shook his head again. He then took a long look at the three men standing in front of him. "Alright..." he paused, speaking after a few agonizing moments of silence had passed, "I'll tell you what I'm gonna do to ya. You need to learn a fucking lesson from this, and the only way for you to do that is..."

"Arthur?" a voice cut into his statement before he was able to dish out his punishment.

Arthur turned to see (Y/N) standing in the archway that led from the main room of the Garrison to the more private room that this was going on in. “What’re you...what’re you doing here, love?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to keep his previous angry demeanor present in his features. It was hard though, because he couldn’t help himself from smiling whenever he looked at (Y/N). She always brought him an immense feeling of happiness.

“Polly told me you were here. I have something special to give to you,” she said, stepping into the room regardless of what was happening in there previously. She had heard the screaming when she entered the otherwise empty bar, but that didn’t deter her, as she’s been around the Shelby family long enough now to know that most of their conversations or interactions were intense in nature and oftentimes involved screaming.

“You do?” he questioned, the corner of his lips twitching. It was becoming really hard for him to hold the glare that he had been wearing previously. John noticed this and was trying so hard to stifle a laugh from where he was sitting meanwhile the three men stood still like statues. They knew better than to acknowledge their boss’s change in attitude.

“I do,” (Y/N) nodded, stepping further into the room so that she could stop in front of Arthur. “It’s in my purse,” she said then, opening her small bag so that she could get her present out. “Now I know that it’s nothing too extravagant, but I wanted to make something special for you to have with you when you go away on business or whatnot,” she gave her speech before raising her hand to show Arthur the homemade handkerchief that she’d made for him.

“You made this for me, love?” Arthur questioned as he took it from her hands to look at it more closely. It had a navy blue background and the pattern consisted of golden diamonds. It was sewn expertly, and Arthur knew already that it would fit perfectly into the pockets of the suit jackets he wore.

“I did,” (Y/N) answered with the same statement she’d used previously, the smile on her face growing, “do you like it?” she asked then.

“I love it,” Arthur smiled, chuckling a little to himself. Now, the previous feelings of anger were completely gone. He gave up trying to keep them around as he gazed down at the thoughtful gift that his girlfriend had just given him. “Thank you for making it for me,” he continued, unable to stop himself from leaning over and pressing his lips to her cheek as a physical display of his gratitude towards her. He pulled back and stared lovingly at her, the adoration in his eyes making (Y/N) giggle slightly as butterflies erupted in her stomach.

“Arthur,” John’s voice pulled the couple out of the little bubble that had been created.

“Yeah, John boy?” Arthur asked, his eyes not yet moving from (Y/N)’s.

“Arthur, we’ve got business to handle here,” John called him back to the problem that the two Shelby men were dealing with before (Y/N) came and so pleasantly interrupted.

“Oh yeah, I uh...” Arthur remembered what had been going on prior to his girlfriend’s arrival. His realization made him turn on his feet to look at the three men that hadn’t moved a muscle since the interruption occurred. “I...I’ll just be a minute, (Y/N),” he told (Y/N), glancing over at her briefly to see her nod her head before he turned back to the men. “What I was saying before was....” he paused again, looking intently as he tried to rack his brain and remember what he was going on about before. “What was I saying before, John?” he then admitted defeat and asked his brother for some help.

“You were telling them their punishment,” John answered, letting out a sigh because he knew where this was going. He was able to tell when Arthur had his mind in different places, and now it was off in (Y/N) land.

“Right, yeah, uh...” he trailed off once more, racking his brain yet again to try and recall what he thought would be a suitable punishment for these men. A few moments passed before he let out a sigh, “John, can you do this? I don’t remember where I was going with what I was saying before,” he admitted as he hung his head, feeling slightly embarrassed that he’d lost his train of thought the second that (Y/N) came into the room.

“Fine,” John agreed, standing up from his chair with a sigh before he made his way over to where his brother was standing, “fucking night and day with you when (Y/N) comes into the room,” he commented then, clapping his brother on the back as a grin formed on his face.

“I’m not ashamed to admit that,” Arthur stated as he stepped over to (Y/N)’s side. “I’m confident that you’ll give them what they deserve, John boy...now I need to go show my lady here my thanks for making me this special gift,” he said as he turned to grin at (Y/N), who immediately felt her cheeks start to heat up.

“Go on then, Arthur,” John waved him off, shaking his head with a grin. Arthur and (Y/N) left the room then, walking right through the Garrison and out of the tavern with his home on Watery Lane being their destination.

Arthur wasn’t ashamed to admit that there was a difference in his attitude when (Y/N) was in his presence. She brought the best out of him, and he always wanted to try to be a better person when he was with her. The love that she gave him was worthy of this night and day shift inside of him, and he didn’t care who he was in front of when it happened.

———

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole

MASTERLIST

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[bg-sparrow]

5, 7, 25 for the fic writer ask game thing!

Hooray! A Fanfic Writer 2022 Wrapped ask!

5. What's your favorite passage that you wrote this year?

I'd have to say it was Emma's journal entry the day after she and Doc bury the DeLorean in Delgado for Marty to find in There Are No Roads:

August 19, 1885

It's done.

Last night, we entombed the time machine in the silver mine. […]

[W]hen I came out of the side tunnel, I felt my heart shift into a deeper place of mourning. The optimism I had of ever seeing Marty again was being buried with the DeLorean, but hope will not yet be laid to rest. There's a chance. I hear it over and over in some distant part of me I've lost touch with. And though I'm preparing the rest of my life as if this were goodbye, I am still smothering something that refuses to yield. I am suppressing, arguing, scolding. 

This isn't done. I can feel it. I can feel the atoms of my flesh skipping across time as if it were a pond, each of them destined to accompany Marty on the other side. If I am with him, even in spirit, we could do it. We could beat the odds, whatever they are, again and again. 

Why is it so bad to stay hopeful, to stay above the clouds where only stars veil my sight? I am not tall; my feet are on the ground, but the clouds are low, obscuring my path, and I cannot help but to see the limitlessness of my dreams. And there are so many. So far away.

Why is it so bad to hope?

7. Favorite PoV/ most used this year?

I usually rotate between Doc, Marty, and Emma equally throughout the Time Circuits Series in the third person, but I enjoyed trying my hand at giving Emma a voice through journal entries sprinkled throughout There Are No Roads. I try to avoid things like journal entries because they can feel cliche, but I liked revisiting this point of view.

Also, I kind of love writing from depressed Marty's PoV in Once Upon a Time in the West. He's more aggressive, angry, reckless — just a totally different but believable Marty we know after learning he's been stuck in the 1880s for four years. I'm looking forward to continuing his character in the upcoming sequel!

25. What are your hopes and/or desires for yourself and for other fic writers in the next year?

For myself, I want to slow down a bit after throwing every spare minute I had over the last 19 months into finishing the Time Circuits Series. I want to read more fic. But I'm also so thrilled with how much I am putting out that I hope I can write more exploratory stories at a leisurely pace after being a one-trick pony all this time.

For other authors? Stick to it. When you don't want to, when you don't think there's anything in the tank, try for 100 words — or just a few sentences! My biggest problem is getting the scene, the chapter, or the story started. And jump around! Writing linearly ate my soul. Write that scene in your head NOW, even if it doesn't happen for six more chapters! And be kind to yourself when it comes to your writing. If you hear that "I'm a terrible author" voice, punch it in the face because you are not terrible for needing a break, feeling lost in your own plot, or not getting the stats you want.

Thanks so much for the ask! I love doing these. I feel like we can learn so much from each other! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE! ❤️🎄

#answered asks #fanfic writer 2022 wrapped #ask game #writer ask game #fanfic writer ask #bgsparrow

[auroras-blend]

How does Leonardo regard Alessia after this is all said and done? She tried to kill his child, and yet…

As Vittoria gets older, what do you think her memory of Alessia will be?

What would Alessia think, looking down and seeing what's happening after her death? 

Really, what are the neuroses of her deeper mentality in general? Alessia is such a complicated and yet--in-story–such an unattainable character, both to us readers and the characters of the story.

Q1: Leonardo doesn't care. He saw his child in danger and went for the kill, with no regrets and no sympathies for Alessia. I can't say he ever even cared about her despite having a history, because he's not capable of it. Leo certainly saw value in her professional qualities and used them, going so far as to bring her into his daughter's life, but that's about it. Alessia on the other hand...well he's a friendly and personable character which she might have mistaken for affection. She certainly knew he'd kill her without any hesitation or regrets if she crossed him though.

As of now, I think if anything he regards her as a cautionary tale that he can't trust anyone, with those sentiments being clear in how he treats Martha. Alessia didn't hurt him personally because he might have expected a betrayal from her at some point, but not to the degree of kidnapping his child.

Q2: She's the villain in Vittoria's nightmares and is the first person to betray her. Vittoria thinks she's evil incarnate, however, she has learned so much from her in regards to how to act in society and how to present herself. Though that may be snuffed out by Martha, her new role model. However, one day, when she discovers her father's profession and understands the world around her, she'll know it's just business and that in their world- trumps personal feelings. Vittoria will be a wiser woman.

Q3: Alessia was a major factor in Leonardo regaining citizenship, which she believed would serve her own interests in the States. His return and Vittoria's captivity were supposed to yield her and the Bianchi's a profit in America, but her mistake was assuming she could control and use Leonardo. She played his game but lost because no one knows a game better than its creator.

She got him to America and I think looking down/up, she's angry and spiteful that he is getting everything she tried to work for. I think she's bitter that Vittoria outwit/outran her long enough to give her father time to rescue her. But mainly, I think a small part of her regrets how things turned out because Vittoria is suffering from her mental illness & trauma, and she has a father who both exacerbates it on purpose and also has no idea how to handle it.

Q4: I wrote Alessia to be very similar to Leonardo with her seeing people's usefulness and using that until she's expended all of it. She's ruthless and unforgiving, and I think the moment she decided to betray Leonardo was when he choked and threatened her. At that point, she had no qualms about kidnapping and possibly hurting Vittoria in order to get Leonardo to do what she wanted. Even though she had affection for the little girl, business and her family comes first. That said, she'd feel remorse and that's the difference between her and Leo. Alessia can see Vittoria's mental state fracturing rapidly and she was brave enough to say call Leo out on it, to her detriment.

Not that she helped. Vittoria's psych problems were definitely exacerbated because of her. Her plan to use Vittoria to manipulate Leo was mainly due to him being a figure who is not easily pushed around. When she saw that even a sociopath has a certain affection for his daughter, she jumped on that. Stupidly, I might add.

I'd say she was somewhat of a feminist for her time (unlike Patience, Martha, and Vittoria). She knew her value and marketed it. Alessia, overall, is a villain with remorse but feelings don't matter to her in the long run.

I hope this answered your questions and thank you for letting me talk about her 💕

#alessia sagesse

[keefwho]

October 22 - 2023 Sunday

9:14am

Even though it feels cringe, I'm going to try to read the day before's entry every morning. I feel like I should be able to do that without cringing at myself. It's like I can't even stand by my own words. I just dump feelings and shamefully look away. Maybe reading what I did yesterday can help me get a grip and try something different today. It'll also help to notice patterns I might be missing. Whether it does or not, this is an "action" I can take. An actual thing I can do that will yield some kind of results as long as I actually do it.

10:43am

In a way I'm afraid to do anything. I feel fear thinking about doing Inktober, or streaming a game, or hanging out with someone. I feel like I'm gonna mess up everything today. I'm afraid to act on anything.

1:09pm

I hear people talk about their girlfriends/boyfriends and can't understand how they easily fall in and out of relationships when I've only ever had 1 where we used that kind of label and it was when I was a teenager. Or how do people end up being in a happy relationship where they can proudly say they have a partner? Why is that so hard to achieve? Why can't it just be as simple as "We are so close and like each other a lot, lets just be boyfriend/girlfriend already." For some reason it just isn't like that. It probably has something to do with me and how fucked up I am. I'm the one here who lacks most forms of interpersonal experience. I fear I am doomed to a life of loneliness.

I'm so out of touch with everything it feels like.

4:03pm

I took a hit again and it's probably the last time I'm gonna do it to cope with my feelings. I'm not having a bad trip or anything, I just know it's bad and I feel dirty about it. I don't know who this "Keith" guy is but I don't support his behavior lately. I don't want to be this. I know what I want to be, I literally just have to do it. I feel a little better about it though. High assisted or not, I've been trying very hard to understand my own humanity and the humanity of others. I've been perspective taking, understanding how much it means when someone asks how my day is or updates me with pictures of their cat or where they're going. I thought about the past and how closed off and hollow it is, why do I like to stay there? Everyone else is present and ever changing. The present offers possibilities, the past is done. Its not to be forgotten but it's not to be lived in either. I wish I could get a better grasp on how I used to feel. I can't remember having this constant darkness deep inside me but maybe it was better hidden. I don't want to believe I could have regressed, especially when I've made so much progress in other places. I simultaneously want to go back to who I was but also don't want to lose the progress I know I've made. Who I was was very limited as a person. I think with great sadness comes great happiness. I've opened up a window to growing in ways I couldn't have before. If I can only learn to see hope like I used to. If I can only understand how things really can change and happen. Thats what I miss. Thats what I've lost. I've done so well with everything else but I lost this important component. Deep down I know who I am but I don't know who I can become. I don't understand what other things can become.

11:15pm

Today I woke up from a dream where Daisy and I got a cabin together and it was great, there was lots of very intimate cuddling and touching. I remember pressing my chest to her naked back holding her and how good it felt. At some point the dream turned into dealing with this homeless guy who wanted to stay in our house. He had a little pet alligator sorta like Gummy and about the size of a kitten. He told me not to let it bite me because it's teeth were very sharp but I let it anyways and my hand started to bleed pretty bad. We threw him and his gator off the mountain.

For breakfast I made sausage, mac n cheese, and had some cereal on the side. Afterwards I was trying to figure out how to launch VRchat and Legendary Tales at the same time so I could Vtube better but that was impossible unfortunately. I tried streaming for about 2 hours which went okay aside from no one showing up except for the guy that calls me Sleepy. I truly hate him. Good thing he only messaged twice. After my failure of a stream I decided to take a hit in preparation to blow myself because I felt like it and wanted that immersion. I did my dishes and looked at stuff while waiting for it to kick in. When it did I remember not being totally in the mood for it anymore but doing it anyways because I wasn't gonna waste the opportunity. It turned out okay, I had fun but it lasted a very very long time. After steaming in the shower for awhile and almost falling asleep in there, I made spaghettios for my 2 hour late breakfast. I snacked on some chips while watching a minecraft stream until I sobered up. I took a 40 minute desk nap at the end of that. I finally decided to do my Inktober and enjoy my evening. I cranked it out along with a small commission edit and uploaded those 2 things. After that Daisy was free and we watched Chris Chan while we both worked. I sketch Mr Mumbles and us as He Man and Cringer. I felt loose about it all, I was able to reach that rare state of really letting go and enjoying the process of art while I use it to express myself. Often times I adhere to too many rules and expectations. I was going to play Legendary Tales while Daisy went to bed but my game froze and I lost my permadeath character to that so I hopped on Zelda instead while she went to sleep.

#journal #diary

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review III

Sunday Week In Review III.

What a week it has been - I’ve read some great updates to some really good fanfics this week (and some I still need to reblog to the dash) and I’ve been in my mother effing Joel Miller feels - but Frankie seems to be helping 😏

Hope everyone had a good week! I’d love to hear what you enjoyed this week and if you have your own week in review you want to share that I can link here!  

Side note: who was writing, or planning to write, something involving ex-Frankie on the beach? It popped into my head this morning and has not left me and no search I've done has yielded anything to the point now I think I'm making it up lol.

Disclaimer: did not get into any of my TBR fics, everything I read this week were updates to established starters or one-shots.

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV Mood board

Bookstore (Frankie x f!Reader)

Drip (Joel Miller x Reader) warning: hints at events of TLOU2

Hangar (Frankie x f!Reader)

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

The Locksmith Series by @oonajaeadira I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting into reading a series based on the The Thief from the Casillero del Diablo adverts. But this was a whole lot more than I expected and was such a great read. I don’t want to spoil too much, but it has just the perfect combination of magic, romance, tension and plot. This was a very enjoyable lazy Sunday morning read.

Delta Landscaping - Chapter 2 + 3 by @rhoorl okay, chapter 2? Was not expecting to be getting so teary eyed in the first half and then snorting with laughter in the second. Then the bonus of a THIRD chapter before the week was out? Jess is spoiling us with the events of Mulefall Court 🫏. I don’t want to spoil chapter 3, but it is a riot and I am eagerly waiting to find out what happens next! 

The Layover - Chapter 11 by @goodwithcheese I’m in denial that there’s one chapter and an epilogue left on this. However, trust me when I say this series will lend itself to a reread once it’s done! Frankie and Reader are in some feels in this chapter and have some stuff to work through. But as ever Jules BBF extraordinaire and “get you laid” fairy godmother comes in with some wise words ♥️

Hungry Hearts - Chapter 5 by @atinylittlepain This is a permanent entry on my fics read/recommended list forever - I could wax lyrical about how Joel Miller is Springsteen coded. However, things are coming to a head here both in the summer of 86’ and in present day for Cherry and Joel. I think we’re in for a bumpy ride with the next updates but I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out! You won’t be disappointed. 

Late Night Texts - Chapter 11 by @mvtthewmurdvck I had my worries about Javi & Reader as I made my way through this chapter and if this was a live action rom-com this would be the part where you shout at the TV because the happily ever after is just right there in sight only for it to be swiped away. But all is not lost because… I’m not going to give it away, go and read! 

Bloom by @nothoughtsjustmeds I very much dislike flowers, each to their own, but I simply don’t get the appeal. I appreciate them at a distance and think they’re pretty, but that’s where it ends for me. However, give me a flower shop trope and I am all over it will devour them all! (don't know what this says about me, lol) This one is no different and was actually a re-read when it popped up on my dash! Joel Miller is late, it’s Mother’s Day and he’s showing up in Readers store two minutes to closing in need of help and the rest… well, I’ll let you read it because it’s such a delight.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #11: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit) - A Kiss After Pain by @something-tofightfor Look. I’m not afraid to admit it, I’m feral for Daniel ‘Wing Pit’ Harper, and it’s because of @something-tofightfor’s fics. Go and read them and you’ll see what I mean. While you’re there go check out their Summer Kiss Prompt’s.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: All of You, All of Me by @wyn-n-tonic If you haven’t read the series this wraps up, I suggest you do! Like, I could word vomit on this fic for days. However, this one-shot gives Joel & reader a tender ending that while it doesn’t fix everything, it gives life to a future for them both without guilt of the origins of their relationship. This was an unexpected treat on my dash this week and I encourage you to take a moment to read this series of you haven’t. 

Two Chances by @mrsquill A Joel Miller x Reader AU that has puppies, Joel and Sarah dynamics and did I mention puppies? It’s an adorable fluff piece that I hope we get to see a follow-up to!

Conversations With a Movie Star | Chapter 2 by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Hands down one of the best written Dieter's in my opinion and on top of that this is such an original idea of a story. Ava and Dieter play so well off one another and I can't wait to see how this is all going to play out. Also, I already love Desi and Lucy ❤️🦝

Fall Apart, Again | Chapter 3 by @wildemaven Okay, while on the topic of unique story ideas... this one right here! This, eurgh, I want to wrap this story in a blanket and give it a massive hug and tell it it'll be all okay. No secret I love me some good angsty fics, but there's a thin line you have to tread before it can dissolve into either a comedy of errors or just downright depressive verbage but Heidi, *chef's kiss* hits all the right notes with this story. Not going to get into much more as it is owed a reblog later today - but you cannot not get invested from the opening chapter.

March by @the-widow-miller I wasn't the only one this week in my Joel Miller feels - we both ended up posting our TLOU2 fics within days of one another and this one, eurgh, the whole thing cutting between present time and flashback and the ending? I'll let you get into this and get down deep in your Golfing feels.

Palomino | IX Warmblood by @fuckyeahdindjarin Going to admit it here, I am afraid of horses, I don't like them I think they're going to bite my hand off and yeah, so so pretty. But they frighten me. HOWEVER, this entire series has me wanting to go book a trek with the Statesmen, not only for my own Whiskey - but to witness the beautiful landscapes Cee has painted and weaved through this entire story. I also like how this ended, I'm not going to get into it because I don't want to spoil it - but if you've not read this series, you are in for a real treat!

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

Pulling from the gazillion tabs I have open that I need to move to a more formalized list that I’ll share next week if I get it done!

Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading So single dad Frankie is enrolling his daughter in your class and as the school year moves forward so does your relationship with Frankie… 

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

This Dave York character analysis thread, some interesting takes on his character and how he’s portrayed in both the film and fandom. 

@rhoorl's dive into the Vanity Plates of the Delta Boys, it had me howling! Also peep the post on what cars each of the boys drive while you're there too!

Things I’ve (NOT) Enjoyed This Week…

My great idea to watch a play through of the second TLOU game (not posting spoilers) and play it while I worked. I’m an idiot. A highly emotional idiot. Also going to take @gnpwdrnwhiskey's advice to re-read the first two chapters of @oonajaeadira's Leave off Your Wandering to satisfy the head-canon I have that TLOU2 is all about Joel going to live his best life on an alpaca farm.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

All the lovely feedback I got on my dive into the Catfish pond with my Frankie fics that I was actually afraid to post, it's actually been a little overwhelming. Also the feedback on Drip, despite pulling everyone down onto the floor in my Joel Miller feels lol. Thank you all for your reblogs, comments & likes - it really means a lot ❤️

This Week’s Song…

This week it’s an album, Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska - @atinylittlepain mentioned this book, Deliver Me from Nowhere: The Making of Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska (which I can’t wait to get stuck into) and so I’ve been listening to this album on repeat since. 

It’s one of those albums that sticks out at from a time when I was younger where I was figuring out what I liked and not being afraid of offending others with my choices or worrying that they weren't what everyone else liked.

Other Weeks in Review I Think You Should Check Out...

@rhoorl's Week In Review (8/27/23)

If you've made it this far! Feel free to share your own recommendations or favourite things that have happened this week or what you've enjoyed! 💕

#betty's sunday in review #Spotify

[the-firebird69]

He's going to hand off to his people to make sure it doesn't look like us doing it there's some ideas we have and they know about it and I might nudge him along cuz I know about it but seriously this is going to go ahead he's sick of these idiots it's going to show them how it works a little and they'll be dead

Mac

There's several points of law that you people violate all the time but the easiest way to kill you is by doing what our son and daughter are suggesting and they don't have any money to pay taxes and they would be under severe duress if it's real which probably you morlok can't figure out. And we're announcing it to get rid of you trying to keep that in mind it works very well

1. You do not have to pay taxes on stocks even after they split make money in a crew all sorts of money and grow and if the rate of growth increases you don't have to pay taxes unless you take dividends and our son has never taken dividends and if he did he put it on his taxes as you see in California it was only one year that he's ever done that and it was for CDs and it was a pitiful amount of money because of you people need like $100 but he forgot about the other high yield CDs but once again he's never taking dividends so he does not pay taxes does not have to and won't have to unless he divest which means takes them out and he's not taking them out and you're illegally saying he doesn't have them for who the hell knows why who doesn't do anything and Max and skincare get his coated money so he's beating you up and you're stupid

2. So starting a weed wacker or some kind of gas fired engine to threaten for what we're going to say anyways it looks like them doing it which is good. Bank accounts are different. Every year they look at the interest and they look at the money that the account has accrued and they apply a tax to it meaning that they calculate how much taxes someone would pay roughly and they just leave it there in other words the first time had a $25,000 in the bank like he did at UMass Amherst and the first year he earned about $3,000 at the end of the year they would calculate his taxes and he didn't have any income so they figured probably $28,000 no it was $3,000 so he wouldn't have to pay anything no after 4 years he was making about $20,000 on that fourth year and that's where you start paying taxes at about 30% or less probably about 15% he says and that's about right so he would have owed about 325 in taxes but it's been 30 years and it's up to 2.5 million dollars and each and every year you're supposed to pay taxes on the interest that you earn in the bank oh my gosh senior in Australia. And on that amount of money he would owe probably $300,000 and if you calculated all of it together in the bank and the interest and his regular income which is nothing and based on the interest because you don't pay on the on the major on the original sum from the last year you just pay on the interest per year so it's a lot less money than people calculate it's still more money than he could ever come up with he has like three trillion dollars in the bank and he would owe probably about $200 billion in taxes and when he would take out money out of the bank and move it we'd advise him to pay taxes on it and only when he takes the money out of each particular Bank I know it comes out in like a million dollars or $2 million dollars each time and that number it is about $100,000 each time or less and we think it's about 75,000 so $2 million dollars will be about $140,000 but all together it's $200 billion in all the bank accounts and the IRS is going nuts right now and they're mostly idiots and they're going to all die that moves us on to the next point although you guys never announced he had that money and you never told him about it and he asked and you said no and there are witnesses and that you forced them to say no

3. Social security if they knew about the interest and the bank accounts would try and discontinue his income and you idiots have been trying to do that for years and you missed this item completely and you went over it over and over. And said he doesn't know any taxes on anything and we looked at your accounts and we decided to call the IRS on all of you and a lot of your IRS people who say they're going nuts on our son's accounts some of them are cuz they're idiots like John remillard are going nuts on your accounts and you owe taxes especially Trump and we have FBI people who are Tommy Allen who are going to expose you for tax evasion cuz you never pay taxes on your bank accounts and your bank accounts are ginormous you sold all the stock and you have to pay taxes on the dividends and you didn't and you have to be taxes on the bank account interest which is humongous and you're going to owe more money than you have no but you won't pay and they're going to seek you out now the social security is starting to shut it down right now and we're going after them all of them it's a ton of money okay

5. When he was a child he had about $30,000 in one jar and 40 or 50,000 and another total of $75,000 and took the money out of circulation so the department of the US Treasury department is now seeking him and it's idiots trying to produce warrants accepting DC accepting DC they're mostly fired and Terry cheesman is the head of the treasury and she says why did you do that and I did that because people would not let me put it in the bank and use it if I did and nobody let me access it and I think someone stole it like Trump and he says no way it's been fighting over it saying I didn't steal it and it's out of circulation and it's over 20 years and it might be ruined those things they could literally charge them with if they were stupid enough to there's some laws that protect people that do that especially when they're under duress like he is by you fools so watch out for that one

5. Someone was that much money is considered to be a billionaire no matter what you do and his taxes would all be wrong and the IRS is now calling it but it's really a non threat because they'll die if they try and enforce it here or there and they're really going after you Trump because you sold all that stuff like 95% of the world stuff no it's 70% and it's going up probably will top out at 80% and you're keeping certain companies and you hit your income and you didn't report it and you didn't pay a dividends and they're going after you hard. But as a billionaire he has certain duties to perform to the United States and that's quarterly reporting no it's monthly reporting of his assets and what he's doing with them because he could be a threat and Donald Trump has not provided one quarterly report as long as he's been in the United States and most everybody else is even Terry cheesman and our son is reported to the FBI that he can't access anything and they verified it and Trump has done no such thing

6. Not only does he have to report quarterly if he could access the money but he would have to report the assets that he has and he has a lot of assets and they're unreported basically because he doesn't know about them and he doesn't know about owning companies and some of them he owns out right so we purchase them for him but nobody lets us near and his assets are huge and he would definitely be considered a threat or possible threat to national security and he be on a watch list and he's not of course the idiots will go after this and other people who are smart no it's a stupid thing to do it's an easy way for us to crush someone's balls and Donald Trump and Mar-A-Lago is hot they found the radiation it's going to come out in the news no maybe it will we don't think so

7. There's a couple other major points but that much money he is considered someone who is armed and dangerous and a lot of what he's saying online can be considered as and construed as someone who is the head of a rebel Army and that's what Donald Trump wants to say about him but Donald Trump is the one who is issuing orders not our son and he's getting information from other people and it's seen too but that's something that they could try and accuse him of if they had the government if they don't at all and they say they do but really the only part of Congress and part of the Senate about 40% of each and they're getting kicked out

8. The final thing is for now that he's exhausted but no he acts like he's poor but he always has stuff he needs and people call that poor Rich and people are accusing him of having access to the money so everybody's going after this and they're going after people with money mostly and they're saying they're going after a son but we're getting them anyways it's a huge debacle this thing weekly publishes you're going to find all these hateful f***** coming out getting killed

9. If you acknowledge that he had all that money you guys would probably try and charge him for tax fraud not to mention the tax evasion with it we mentioned it's different because fraud is intentional attempt to deceive the government and the people although Trump has huge huge cases of fraud against him it's just the surface of what Trump has been doing is the amount of money you took he took so much money that even now he could possibly just stabilize America by screwing around with the Cash Plus he'd have to just flush it but most of his people will be dead and he might be able to and might not harm anyone is not really true. And our son does not have that kind of money but he has that kind of stock and that's another item

10. With the amount of stock that our son has in companies it could be looked at as an attempt to take over the United States and other nations and he really is actually trying to do that and what he writes to say it and he doesn't have access doesn't necessarily mean it's not illegal because he has other people like Katia equus and Melissa Paris checking on the numbers and it is a conspiracy to overthrow governments. Unfortunately this is actually a real one and Max have been using it slightly because they're under duress and they know about it and they work with us and see us but some parties are not right there and don't respond to the threats very well is enough stock and ownership of companies to be considered to be one of the world's most powerful people second to not been Arnold it will be to Mac and in competition with Tommy f he's way up there and we are too that's where the ones helping with it managing with it and more so food for thought have a nice time with it more luck and we'll see you at the incinerator cuz that's where you're going

Thor Freya

Hahaha lol you people are a joke and you're going to go down you don't think we're fighting for it to get there you're wrong

Hera Zues

Olympus I'm going to war with you more luck and we're getting troops in here now cuz of this post

[gyucore]

SHELTER: STARTING LINE

pairing: ot5 x reader (individual endings + true end)

chapter tags: zombie apocalypse au, angst, mystery

synopsis: an unknown illness has rapidly spread throughout the world, taking down nearly the entire population and turning them into mindless vessels of death and chaos. in the midst of the rubble, you and your partner find a notice of a safe zone, and are taken in by a small group of survivors. you only have to hold out for seven more days until rescue arrives, but danger lurks at every corner, and not everyone can be trusted.

warnings: mentions of blood, gore, profanity, character death

word count: 3.8k

update: changed D-1 to starting line. the next chapter will be titled D-1 instead

master post | D-1

Up until now, it never really crossed anyone's mind just how much the world can change in the span of three months. Bright and busy streets that were once filled with people of different shapes and sizes, each living their lives the way they're intended, were now dark, empty, and uninviting. Garbage and rubble littered everywhere, and nature had taken over most of the run-down buildings. What used to serve as homes for many were now hollow shells of forgotten memories. And areas that'd been avoided at all costs became shelter for those seeking refuge, be it a dark cave in the middle of a forest, a series of tunnels hidden beneath the local town plaza, or the rotten sewers of the downtown area. Anything to not receive unwanted attention. If it weren't for the looming threat of danger present around every corner, the world would've been a sight to behold.

The downfall of mankind at the hands of an unknown illness. It had spread at an alarming rate, faster than renowned experts could ever have predicted. Endless efforts had been made to pinpoint its source, take note of its effects, and prevent it from spreading any further, but before they could yield the results of their research, the sick started acting strange. Two weeks after getting infected, the patients started behaving erratically. They've refused to eat their meals, lost their ability of coherent speech, and have had their mental capacity regress to that of a toddler. A week into their strange behavior and numerous reports flooded in left and right about how they'd start viciously attacking anyone that came within a certain range.

A child could piece together what's going on, and a good portion of the populace were well aware of what was to come. An illness that strips a person down to that of a wild animal, erratic movements, and accounts of vicious attacks; the whole situation sounded like the start a film one would pay to see on the big screen at weekends, except this was real life. It had already been too late when the horrific realization fell on everyone.

“I don't think we should do this.”

You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of someone's voice up front. It hadn't occurred to you that you'd been staring blankly at the moss covered floor for quite some time. “Sorry, what were you saying?” You ask, getting up from your seat on the ground.

Sunlight shone through the cracks above the sewers, illuminating the person's face. “I said, I don't think we should go through with the plan.” It had been Beomgyu who'd stepped up to oppose this month's supply run.

“Why? Is there a problem with the plan?”

Beomgyu looks down for a moment, briefly avoiding your gaze to collect himself and find his resolve. He wasn't one to go against your decisions. After all, you'd never failed to take into account everyone's well-being in crafting your plans, and none of them have failed the group thus far. But this one just felt.. off.

“It's too dangerous.” Beomgyu says with clenched fists, eyes full of conviction. “I know we're basically out of rations at this point but we've never done runs like this before. What if something bad happens to one of us?”

“I've thought this over a hundred times, Gyu.” You tell him, eyeing the rest of your group on the side in concern. “You've seen it yourself during our last scouting, right? There's barely any resources left around these parts of the city. The only way we'll be able to survive until our next relocation is to raid the nearest mall.”

“We could scout the area again.” Beomgyu insists, not letting his gut feeling slide. “We could find some other ways to get our hands on supplies without risking everyone's safety. You and I know the hordes prefer dark and wide spaces. There could be hundreds of them in there.”

“We'll take the risk.” A hand makes its way to your shoulder. You turn and see the rest of your group, Suhyeon and Sungjae, the hand belonging to the former.

Beomgyu frowns at the others' approval. You hold his hand and smile in attempt to reassure him, and for a moment, the two of you stare each other down. By the frightened look in his eyes, you could tell he was scared. And you were too. Everyone was, all the time. And with that fear, the idea of giving up seemed to grasp at your fingers, but the group wasn't in a place to do so. Beomgyu understood that.

“Fine. I trust you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, giving his hand a little squeeze. “I won't let you down.” Was what you wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the courage to. You just hope things would actually go as planned.

Since the beginning, Beomgyu had always placed his trust in you. Both of you were broadcasting majors in college, and had taken most of your classes together. The first wave of attacks from the horde happened during one of those classes. It was of pure luck that you were seated next to Beomgyu that day. Quick on his feet, he'd instinctively grabbed your hand and dragged you to safety as he ran. And you've never felt so grateful your entire life. The gruesome sight of your classmates being ripped apart bit by bit had rendered you frozen in place. If it hadn't been for Beomgyu, you could've been one of them. And ever since that day, you'd vowed to survive together no matter what.

 The group left the base around noon. It looked like it was about to rain so you urged everyone to move quickly. The last thing anyone wants was to have to navigate slippery grounds.

Getting to the mall took nearly half an hour on foot. You had the group go around, sticking to the edge of the forest. In the situation you encounter a horde of infected, the dense trees and greenery would provide great cover. Fortunately, there had only been a few of them wandering around the streets, making it easy for the group to evade and not engage.

Arriving at the mall, Suhyeon and Beomgyu proceed to scout the area, securing every entrance and exit. You and Sungjae stayed behind, reviewing the map of the mall by the main entrance.

“Don't you think it's strange?” Sungjae says, copying the map on her notebook.

“What?” You ask absentmindedly, drawing your own copy.

“Usually there'd be more infected lurking around. This is the first time we didn't have to fight them off. Kinda makes me paranoid lmao.”

Kidding aside, Sungjae had a point. Supply runs usually never went as smoothly as this, but no harm ever came with looking at the bright side.

“All entrances and exits secured. We're ready to go.” Suhyeon reports tucking her ropes back in her bag. Beomgyu follows behind, giving an affirming nod.

Sungjae passes down copies of the map, and you provide everyone with a final rundown of the plan.

“We split up. Suhyeon and Beomgyu, you take the second floor. Scale the building carefully. Sungjae and I will search the ground floor. Take only the essentials. Prioritize food and medicine. Take anything that can be used as a weapon as long as it doesn't slow you down. Leave the basement alone. That'll reduce the risk of running into one of them. Hear a suspicious noise nearby? Get the fuck out of there. Each floor has three exits and two emergency exits, go to whichever is most safe. I'll trust that Beomgyu and Suhyeon did their part in properly securing the exits. If anything happens, fire the smoke signal. If all goes well, we regroup here. Everyone clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then let's go.”

Beomgyu sifts through the stock room in one of the pharmacies, balancing a flashlight between his neck and shoulder as he grabs anything useful and checks for the expiration dates. Suhyeon volunteered to keep watch out front.

 He couldn't seem to get his mind off of Suhyeon's words earlier. She'd told him about her suspicions regarding the lack of infected nearby. How there must've been something that caught hold of their attention long enough to lure them to another location. Possibly the work of other survivors. Either that or.. they're all having a grand feast at what used to be a group of survivors' hideout.

Beomgyu shivers at the thought. He'd rather there be no bloodshed, even if it weren't their blood being spilled. But if it had been the former, the ones possible for the distraction must've had a lot of reassurance on their side, and a goal in mind that needed the absence of hordes to be completed. Government interference? After all this time? Probably. They were the only ones capable of such a feat.

“Noise about five stores away. Slow pace. You done?” Suhyeon asks, popping out from behind and shining an extra light on Beomgyu's face.

He nods. “All done. Let's get out of here.”

One step, and Beomgyu freezes. His eyes go straight towards the number of ad posters plastered on the walls. It was possible. An important notice from the government spread around through flyers.

Beomgyu finds himself grinning.

There's a fucking safe zone.

Then the grin falls. There was no doubt you'd find out about the same information, but on what lengths you'd go to retrieve it has left him fearing for the rest of the group.

He turns to Suhyeon, face grim. “We need to find Y/N and Sungjae. Now.”

 “The hell?”

The infected collapses on the floor with a thud, its head bashed up from the blow. It had been following you and Sungjae ever since you'd passed through the stock room in the grocery. You two managed to corner it in one of back isles.

“What's wrong? You okay?” Sungjae looks over at you, placing her bat down as she wiped off the blood on her arm. After asking, she notices your hands start shaking. You seemed so fixated on the bloodied piece of paper that fell out from the infected's mouth. She winces when you immediately picked it up. “I don't think you should be holding on to that thing any longer than you should.”

“Right, sorry. It's just..” You read through the contents thoroughly, repeating them again and again until everything just goes blank and an array of uncontrollable emotions started flooding in. “Sungjae..” Your voice cracks a little as you hand the paper over to Sungjae, holding onto her shoulder as she too reads the few words on the print.

T SAFE ZONE

ntact

89

55

tation

“Y/N, this is— You mean, we can finally..” Tears gather in her eyes as she clutches the paper for dear life.

You nod, letting go of Sungjae and readjusting your duffel bag. “We haven't gathered as much supplies as planned, but the ones we've bagged from this grocery should be enough. Beomgyu and Suhyeon can handle gathering supplies on their own. And I think we can both agree that what we need to do right now is to find out more information about this safe zone.” The torn up flyer obviously wasn't enough, and you were confident there were more nearby.

Sungjae agrees, placing the last of her haul in her backpack.

A crashing noise alerts you two, prompting you to ready your weapons.

“The noise came from up front.” Sungjae whispers. “Let's leave through the side entrance.”

You two got out of there quick, not wanting to aggravate whatever was wandering around in the front. The goal was clear.

“Find anything that could lead us to a flyer. Someone must've put them up, right? There has to be more around here.” You say in between pants, stealthily striding your way through the halls.

“Uh, Y/N?” Sungjae stops you as you pass by a bulletin board at the center of the mall. From the looks of it, flyers about the safe zone were plastered here, only that other survivors had gotten to it first, leaving a few useless scraps behind.

If only you'd gotten to it sooner, fists clenching at the thought. “Let's keep looking.”

 The next few minutes were quick to pass by. All the running around, carrying heavy bags were starting to tire you down. Strangely enough, you hadn't encountered any other infected aside from the one in the grocery.

“Y/N, can we rest for a bit? We've searched the entire floor already.” Sungjae begs, exhausted. You remember how Sungjae had the lowest stamina in the group, although she made up for it with her knowledge in medicine and first aid. She's always been the one to patch you up.

“Maybe we should head back to the meeting grounds. Beomgyu and Suhyeon are probably waiting for us there. If they found any useful information upstairs, they'd surely tell us.”

You consider Sungjae's suggestion. She had a point. But the ticket to salvation was already right in front of you. If you'd search for a bit more, surely you'd find it. Scouting the second floor was a no go. All the stairs and escalators were demolished by a bunch of freak survivors called the Lost Boys, evident by the obscene Peter Pan inspired graffiti they'd placed on the floor near the rubble. A part of you wishes they'd have a shitty day ahead.

To go up from the inside, you'd need to scale the walls, and you weren't equipped for that. The only other accessible place you hadn't searched was the basement but that would be too much of a risk. You don't want Sungjae or the others getting hurt. On the other hand, if you were to go alone..

“Jae.” You turn to Sungjae, tone a tad too serious for the latter's liking. “Head to the main entrance and regroup with the others. I'm going down the basement to find more flyers.”

“What?!” Sungjae covers her mouth, realizing her voice had been too loud. Her next words come in loud whispers. “Are you crazy?! Did you skip your rations earlier? I can't let you go down there alone! You said it yourself, it's too dangerous! Think about your safety!”

“But still..” You can't let go of the feeling that you might find something useful if you just kept on searching. Hiding down below isn't exactly as safe as it seems, and resources were scarce. It's not just the infected you have to worry about but starvation and illness as well. The sewers weren't kind to survivors.

“Alright, alright. Fine. You crazy bastard. If you really wanna go down there then at least take me with you. Two heads are better than one or whatever.” Sungjae rolls her eyes as she drags you to the path leading downstairs.

“You sure you're okay with this? Suhyeon will kill me if you ever got hurt.” You try to free yourself from her grip but fail.

Sungjae snorts at your comment. “I can take care of myself. Just promise me we'll be in and out real quick, okay?” She gives your hand a little squeeze as you made your way down, and you can't help but smile. Having someone who's got your back made all the difference.

 But if only you hadn't taken her.

“Shit!” Beomgyu shoots another infected down from afar. “Nine. Hey, Suhyeon, how ya holding up down there?!”

“Twelve! That makes all of them!”

Beomgyu clenches his teeth as he propels down. They were on their way down the second floor when the fire alarm went off. The blaring sound attracted a few of the infected near the area, but not enough to overwhelm the two.

The alarm could only one thing— you and Sungjae were in big trouble. Everyone had agreed on releasing a smoke signal when in danger. The appearance of smoke and its distinct smell would've alerted the other members of the group without attracting the attention of the infected. But setting off the fire alarm wasn't part of the plan.

Beomgyu and Suhyeon rush inside the ground floor, readying their weapons for an encounter with an infected but there weren't any around. Not a good sign.

“Now where the fuck are th—”

A piercing scream cuts Beomgyu off. Suhyeon could barely move when she recognizes the voice. “Please, no..”

Beomgyu places a hand over Suhyeon's shoulder. “It came from the basement..”

And with that, the two took off.

Beomgyu couldn't help but curse you in his mind. The basement was off-limits, and there was no way Sungjae would've decided to go down there on her own volition. It had to be you. He knew you'd be like this the moment you'd find out about the safe zone. Partnering up with you from the beginning would've been ideal, that way, he could've slapped some sense into your head when the time came.

“I know what you're thinking, but going around pinning the blame on someone won't get us anywhere closer to saving them.” Suhyeon blurts out as the two made their way downstairs.

She was right.

Beomgyu clears his head. The details could wait after the rescue. He just hopes he was fit enough to pull this off.

 What awaited the two in the basement was a scene that could only be described as something straight out of a nightmare. There you were standing on top of a banged up display car in the middle of the floor, the flickering light of the fluorescent above you illuminating your bloodied figure as you shot the infected down one by one as they came crowding. Estimated, there were at least forty infected coming in from left and right, prompting Beomgyu and Suhyeon to stand their ground, shooting down the horde as they got closer.

Half of the infected had turned their attention towards the two, taking away most of the burden on your part.

But as the duo's eyes adjusted to the dark, your figure started becoming clearer. You weren't alone. Never should've been but Sungjae was nowhere to be found. Beomgyu could feel the blood draining from his face as he sees what it was you were clutching your arms, or rather, who it was. “Well fuck.”

“Sungjae!” Suhyeon cries out desperately, taking out her bat with her free hand and charging at the horde with both weapons, hoping to get to Sungjae as fast she could.

“Fuck. Suhyeon don't—!” Before he knew it, he'd lost sight of his comrade in the dark. All he could do was continue to shoot, but for how long? His eyes wander back to your figure, and couldn't help but wish it hadn't. He could make out Sungjae's state in your arms. At least, what's left of her. The look on your face screamed a thousand words and emotions. Regret, fear, grief; he couldn't really point it out. You looked like you were just about ready to leave the world behind at any moment, holding your half-eaten friend close.

Everything was in chaos. Beomgyu didn't know what to do anymore. The horde just kept on coming, and he'd thrown himself in this dangerous situation without thinking straight. How had you gotten yourself in this situation in the first place? Why did Sungjae have to die? How will they ever survive this? Beomgyu could only pray for a miracle.

And with the sound of the ceiling bursting, his prayers were answered.

The rubble crashes to the ground, burying most of the infected with it. Beomgyu takes this opportunity to shoot down the remaining few in front of him, maneuvering his way to the front in search of Suhyeon, hoping that his friend had made it through the nightmare.

To his horror, Beomgyu finds her body crushed beneath the rubble. “Suhyeon!” He hurriedly gets the debris off her but realized it had already been too late. She was done for even before the ceiling gave away. Her lower half had already been eaten. The dread slowly kicks in.

He could've stopped her.

She would've still been alive.

A barrage of shots forces him out of his thoughts. He stumbles as he looks behind, seeing the silhouette of two individuals, non-infected most likely, actively shooting at a few infected coming in from the distance.

Are we being rescued? He figures the whole ceiling mishap was their doing too.

Beomgyu's attention then shifts to you, finding his strength to run to your side.

The strangers alone managed to finish off the remaining threat, allowing the two of you some time to pull yourself together.

Beomgyu quickly holds his hand out for you to take, but all you did was stare back at him in defeat.

“Beomgyu, I..” You croak, gaze wavering. “Sungjae..”

Beomgyu watches as you hold Sungjae closer to your chest.

“She's.. She's..” Your body flops down, the smooth surface of the car's roof making you slip. “It should've been me.”

Your words weigh down Beomgyu's chest. He couldn't even bear to look at you like this.

“Sungjae's gone, Y/N.” He whispers. “Suhyeon is too. I know all of this is hard to take in but we have to get out of here right now.”

Beomgyu offers his hand again, and this time, you make the move to take it.

“Better get your shit together fast you two.” One of the strangers calls out. “Your stunt with the alarm attracted all kinds of danger. There's more where these guys come from. If you wanna make it out of here alive, you better come with us.”

He was the taller one out of the two. Dark hair. Probably around your age. The same goes for his blonde friend.

The blonde looks over at the bodies of your friends and sighs. “Small group, huh? I know how you feel. But we can't bring them along. Too risky. We don't want a potential infected in our hands.”

“The jeep's out at front. We'll wait for you there, but I suggest you decide quick. Coming along is all up to you but we're not sticking around here for too long.” He adds.

Beomgyu looks to you, eyes pleading. You take one last look at your friends. Suhyeon and Sungjae. You vow to never forget this day, to never forget them, and to never forget what they've done. The object in your hand served as a beacon of hope, and a grim reminder.

“We're coming.”

“Smart choice.” The blonde nods, and the two turn around to lead the way.

You and Beomgyu follow after placing Suhyeon and Sungjae's bodies safely to the side, leaving behind your jackets to cover them up.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling as you stared at the crumpled flyer in your hand. Sungjae had sacrificed her life for this flyer, and Suhyeon for everyone.

Heavy rain pours endlessly from the sky as you got out, weeping for the lost. You hold on tight to Beomgyu's hand, earning his attention as he looks back. The gaze you shared was enough for you to know the other had been thinking the same thing. From this point on, you were to continue your lives not only for yourselves but for your two comrades as well, swearing to not let their sacrifices be in vain.

And if you could save a few more lives with this flyer, then so be it.

#tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fic #txt au #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai x reader

[mooniefics]

— beck and call

pairings : yelena / fem reader

word count : 10.2k

tags : one-sided relationship, lowkey master / servant dynamic, eventual smut, mild body worship, dom / sub undertones, power imbalance

warnings : contains nsfw, mildly dub-con at some points, yelena being physically rough w you for disobedience

summary : serving as yelena's personal guard turned out to yield many unexpected consequences.

to say that you were unnerved by the task of guarding an anti-marleyan volunteer would be an understatement.

you hadn't quite digested the fact there even existed a world beyond the walls that had towered over you for your entire life, looming high in the sky like a reminder that you would be trapped, penned like an animal for the rest of your prospective future. that had been your initial motivation to become a soldier, to at least advance to a garrison position where you could have a taste of exclusive information regarding what lay beyond the stone and metal bearings. but in the final year of your basic training, everything had changed. there were talks of outlandish things, of traitors from another land that had hidden amongst the native people, talks of islands and foreign soil and something more than the confines of the walls.

upon graduating, you had ultimately chosen the scouting legion, seeing how the garrison was quickly being disbanded and the remaining soldiers that hadn't stepped into their early days of retirement were joining the aforementioned regiment. the benefits only seemed to become greater and greater with the extinction of titans, the whispers of allies and retribution and rebuilding a lost legacy of your people. but somehow, all that novel luster had become muted, completely darkened by the imposing presence of this singular individual seated before you. you had only been debriefed on their name and role in military operations before your assignment, leaving you worryingly unprepared for arguably the most important assignment of your career.

the sound of your name passing from your squad leader's lips grounded you, the formal introduction quickly drawing to a close as he relayed the information to the striking foreigner. "she will be your personal escort for the remainder of your stay. if you have any questions regarding the island, feel free to ask her at any time."

"wonderful." their voice was rich, smooth with confidence and underlined with something unfamiliar—it was the way their lips rounded out the first syllable, or perhaps the way they spoke from the depths of their throat.

you felt your back stiffen as they rose from their seat, somehow rising taller and taller, their stature reaching much higher than anyone you'd ever met. immediately, your right hand clamped into a fist, thudding over your heart as your left arm hooked behind your back, spitting out your full name and designation just as you had while saluting hundreds of times. "i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity to occupy you. thank you for all that you and the volunteers have done for paradis."

you were shocked that your voice hadn't quivered with the way their eyes dragged down your body, grey and barren of any emotion besides a hint of intrigue, sharp features framed by short, fair hair. they were strikingly handsome, masculine yet feminine at the same time, an indiscernible sort of beauty that perplexed and enthralled you.

"no need to thank me, soldier." whether they were assuring or commanding you, you didn't know, only cognizant of how they nearly purred out your title. swallowing, you lowered your hands, standing at ease and forcing yourself to not look to your superior for encouragement.

"then i shall show you to your lodgings. please follow me."

you forced yourself to turn your back to them and take a step, then another, mentally counting them one by one until you reached the door. you could hear their heavy footfalls following behind you, the distance steadily beginning to close until you forced your own pace to quicken. on the silent walk out of the management building, you had found a speed that worked, one long stride of theirs equaling two of yours, leaving you straining to keep a comfortable yet polite space between the both of you. you risked a glance back, having to crane your head up to catch a glimpse of their face. they had been staring idly at the back of your head, meeting your eyes when you turned to briefly face them, the moment cut short by your own haste to fix your view back onto the path before you.

"how shall i address you?" you attempted to fill the cool void of discomfort that had suddenly settled in the air around you, shoulders tense and brow taut.

"anything works."

their answer offered nothing in return to your inquiry, the faint image of their face flitting across your mind. you hadn't looked at them long enough to commit their features to memory, but you had looked enough to remember their startlingly cold eyes, angular nose and full lips, sharp jaw and heavy brow.

"m-miss yelena?" you attempted, fighting the urge to nervously fidget or give away any sign of your unease.

"if it suits you." was their final reply before the two of you fell silent once again.

the lack of discussion persisted through the remainder of the journey, the only sounds occupying the space being the fall of your boots against the ground and the jingle of your keyring that you drew from your pocket to unlock the front door. you stood aside to hold it open as she walked in, feeling an odd sensation flutter in the pit of your stomach when she had to duck under the frame to enter. the housing itself wasn't extravagant, only a single open room with a desk, bookshelf, dresser, kitchenette, bed, and a small bathroom area to the side to occupy the space, the ceiling seeming much lower than it was due to yelena's formidable height. she looked out at the room, flicking a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, face neutral and inexpressive.

"how quaint," she turned to face you, a prick of unease making your posture pin-straight once again, "is there any reason they've put us volunteers away from the main soldier barracks?"

your mind suddenly went blank at the worst of times, unknowing of the exact answer but knowing you had to over something in response. "s-simply for your comfort. we wouldn't like it to seem as if we don't trust you to stay on your own."

"ah, so considerate of you." for the first time she smiled, a barely-there tilt at the corner of her lips that made your heart stutter, "then i'll be sure to make myself at home."

she stepped slowly over to the bookshelf, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books with an apparent interest. you stayed standing where you were, unsure if you should leave then or wait a bit longer for just the right moment. something about her presence was unnerving, but there was also an undeniable allure that you almost gravitated to, despite her being a stranger.

"do you need anything else?" you piped up, letting your hands link behind your back, fingers twisting together.

"not that i can think of." each word seemed scripted, as if she'd practiced this entire conversation a dozen times before it'd ever happened.

"then i'll be on my way." you shakily smiled in an attempt to seem put together, hoping that she didn't immediately see through the weak front, "i'll be back in a couple of hours to escort you to dinner."

you bowed and took your leave, almost desperate to escape her all-consuming gaze and find refuge outside her line of sight. but even after you'd shut the door behind you and stepped off the porch, well on your way down the path you'd taken, you could still feel how her eyes had examined every fine detail of your stance, analyzing every shift and subtle movement you made with a calculating look. deep down, you already knew that this position would be completely exhausting from the get-go.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you had fulfilled your typical nightly routine—fetch yelena from her quarters to escort her to the cafeteria, go your separate ways and sit at your usual tables after getting food, finish your dinner with five minutes to spare in the dining hour to go inform yelena that it was time for her to wrap up her meal so you could take her back. she'd followed you down the usual path, now lit with newly placed street lamps that turned on after the sun sunk below the horizon and night fell. there had been nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the way the volunteer table had eyed you with a formerly absent intrigue when you came to speak to yelena.

that comfortable distance you'd kept between the two of you had slowly been narrowing over the last few days, a development which had peaked both your curiosity and your anxiety. while you still kept yourself a few paces ahead of her, you could feel how close her presence had become, an almost physical weight that settled itself over your back and urged you to walk faster and faster to escape its grasp. but you knew that she was all too good at reading your body language, somehow having familiarized herself with even the finest idiosyncrasies that incriminated you in just about a month, an understanding that had only grown deeper as more and more time had passed. although you felt as if you'd gained the upper hand for a few days when you realized that she always let a bit of emotion slip in her large, ashen eyes when you said something just enough out of the ordinary to catch her interest, any progress you thought you'd made was quickly squandered by her own advancements. today was no different, another morning and afternoon filled with dodging the occasional pervasive question from her about the simplest of things.

were you an only child? had you been closer to your mother or father when you were younger? did you join the scouts to explore the world or because you simply found no value in living out your life doing something different? they had started out with an ambiguous end-goal, but slowly evolved into even more unprofessional matters—attempts to provoke a discussion about your love life, what you might look for in a prospective partner, whether you wanted to settle down after you retired or stay unattached for the remainder of your life.

you always dodged, and she always let up for a while, lulling you into a sense of safety that was always broken by that same question again, worded differently but asking for an answer that was the same as the last. the more you ran from her company, the more she seemed to push it upon you, pleased when you would slip up and get flustered when she caught you off guard. so you held your ground this evening, even when your fingers quivered at the realization that she was practically peering over your shoulder, watching you unlock the door to her quarters with just barely enough space separating you to not feel her breath fanning down the back of your neck.

you quickly opened the door and began moving to hold it open for her like you always did, but felt a large hand resting at your shoulder, prompting you to quickly spin on your heel to face her. she was usually finished with her casual interrogating by this hour, which was why you were more than surprised to see that she was staring down at you, having lowered yourself to your level enough for you to not have to tilt your head completely back to meet her eye.

you took an instinctive step back, flinching at the sound of the door falling shut behind you, effectively caging you in between it and the woman before you. pale, dangerously alert irises traversed your expression, drinking in every small feature that had been drawn back into a confused look, stomach already knotting into a twisted tangle of warmth and icy panic.

"are you afraid of me?"

the immediate answer sat on the tip of your tongue, lips parting to deliver the lie you had ready for such an inquiry. but something in her eyes spoke to you, silently, warning you not to give into dishonesty. you couldn't possibly admit to still being fearful of her, not when you were meant to be the powerful one in this relationship. you weren't supposed to say yes, but you also found yourself unable to lie as you always did, not when the path you'd walked with her was still worryingly empty and you felt the hard wood of the door now pressing unforgivingly into your back with each minuscule step back.

"sh-should i be?" you cursed your stammer, betraying your evident lack of control, the only redeeming aspect being the non-committal implication that responding with another question held.

that seemed to throw her off a bit, owlish eyes slowly blinking at you as she thought. even up close like this, you couldn't identify a single flaw in her appearance—pale skin smooth like porcelain, unconcerned by any sort of natural imperfections, hair like fine silk and eyes piercingly bright, yet clouded like a stormy sky. you squeaked at a hand seizing your collar, right hand instinctively flying down to the scabbard strapped around your thigh, clammy palm shakily clenching around the hilt of your blade, the other clamping firmly around her wrist.

she only smirked at the presumed threat, pressing herself even closer to you, enough that you could feel the radiant heat of her lips just barely grazing your own. you suppressed the trembling threatening to shake through your every limb, beginning to feel lightheaded with the effort to contain your quickening breaths, swallowing down your dread, forcing yourself to meet her gaze when she spoke.

"if it suits you. it doesn't affect me either way, does it?"

you just barely shook your head side to side, not realizing you were rising up onto your tiptoes until she pulled you forward that last inch by your shirt, eyes falling shut as her lips melded easily against yours. an inexplicable warmth flourished in your chest, heart tripping up to match the frantic speed of your thoughts, fingers clenching around her slender, clothed wrist. you forced yourself back with a sharp intake of breath, backing yourself far enough into the door that you could feel the wood digging into the small of your back.

"m-miss yelena, you can't—!"

she didn't allow you to finish, tugging you back to your previous position with a low huff, the faint snap of a stitch popping somewhere on your collar going unregarded as you let out a small noise of surprise, wide eyes relenting and squeezing shut. a voice in the back of your mind screamed for you to draw your knife, push her away, force her into her quarters, anything but just standing there and allowing her to exert such a humiliating power over you. but it was so much easier to sink into her grasp, to feel her fingers slowly relax and hold you at a comfortable height rather than force you up, to allow the hot flush of an unknown intimacy to settle deep into your skin.

you'd been kissed before, it wasn't as if she stole your first chance from you, but it had never been like this. you had only brushed the surface of gentle pecks and lingering hands on the other's face until you both giggled and pulled away, never faced with such a certain confidence that almost frightened you more than it allured you, an unspoken order that left you at her mercy rather than on equal footing. and though you'd all but forgotten about your initial rejection, yelena had not, chastising you with a firm bite to your lower lip that drew a less-than-composed whimper from the back of your throat.

"i would advise you to not dictate what i can and cannot do in the future." she stated firmly, tone devoid of any personal inflection, barely pulling away enough for you to meet her stare, hand tightening around your collar once more, "understood?"

"y-yes, miss yelena." you barely whispered, nodding affirmatively. a flicker of amusement momentarily lightened her expression when you drew your tongue over the aching skin of your lips, the taste of faint copper and black tea clinging to your taste buds.

she slowly slackened her grip, not even so much as blinking as she straightened her posture and reached past you to open the door, allowing you a moment to scamper out of her path and pull your shirt back into place with trembling hands. "then, you are dismissed, soldier."

she didn't spare you a second glance before proceeding into her quarters, shutting the door behind her without another word. you stood dumbly for a moment, licking over your bottom lip once more, just then realizing how shallow and quick your breathing was. you steadied yourself enough to lock her door, shaking away the mental fog of such an abrupt change of scenery, pulling your jacket tighter around you to make up for the lack of her warmth pressing into you, confused as to why you had just allowed yourself to be ordered around by the individual that you were meant to be keeping in check. the walk back to your dorm was blurry at best, a few good-nights from your colleagues that prompted a hum of acknowledgement, thankfully nothing that required you to recount your daily fulfilled duties or anything past a few minutes prior.

even after you'd shed your clothes, pointedly ignoring how wrinkled your shirt front had become, cleaned yourself up and crawled into the isolated comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. perhaps you could learn from this experience, remind yourself at all times to put even more distance between the two of you. maybe you would have to stop conversing with her so casually, or perhaps your best option would be to cut your losses and request an assignment change, consequences or record mark-ups be damned. but as you tossed and turned on your mattress, burying your face into your pillows and trying to rid your skin of any memory of her touch, a voice at the back of your head ceaselessly murmured, a rambled premonition of more turbulence to come.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

this day marked five weeks since the initial incident, there had been no activity like it since—although you couldn't say whether you thought that was a bad thing or not. not to say that you hadn't been keeping your distance, the first few days were spent cautiously looking over your shoulder, making sure to keep her even further than arm's length but still close enough to guarantee that she couldn't slip away on her own. she behaved respectfully enough, although she herself seemed to be acting as if nothing had even happened, greeting you like normal and allowing you to escort her to meals and strategy meetings when necessary, despite how she'd affirmed that you weren't to give her any orders.

you hadn't reported the infraction to any superiors, knowing that you would get caught up in an unnecessary fuss that might even get you stuck at the bottom of the ranking list once again, an unthinkable outcome that only made you sure that the right decision was to keep your mouth shut. the previous afternoon was the first time yelena had made a special request, describing how unfortunate it was that she was lacking just a few proper amenities that would really make her lodgings "feel just like home". your persistent hesitance had eased after the first week of safety, and you fulfilled your responsibility of maintaining her comfort by arriving early this morning, toting a small bag of a dark ground powder and cups.

you were surprised to see that yelena was already awake upon your arrival, seated at a table that looked far too small for her, reading one of the many books from her provided bookshelf. you exchanged polite greetings, her not rising from her place until you'd lit the fire beneath the stove and set out a plate and cup for her at the counter, stowing away the rest in whatever free space you could find. you stood by while she took care of making whatever it was she wanted herself, noting the fragrant richness that had filled the air upon her steeping the powder in heated water.

"they only serve black tea in the cafeteria," she said, speaking to no one in particular, plucking a ladle from the utensil rack, "it's been ages since i had a cup of coffee in the morning."

the heat of the stove was beginning to warm the room, prompting you to shed your jacket and place it on the back of the chair yelena had not been previously seated at. your shirt beneath it was more forgiving, a thin material that had always hung a bit loosely from your shoulders, great for the hotter days when you were still expected to be in uniform.

"have you ever had a cup of coffee?" her voice interrupted your meandering stream of thought, the sound of liquid being poured into a cup faintly catching your attention.

"no, i don't think i have."

"would you like to try some?"

the offer stoked the spark of bothersome curiosity, the scent filling the air and mingling with the ambient sound of crackling wood and the feel of the hot air making you want to accept. perhaps this was her way of making amends, or just doing something pleasant for the worker that she was made to follow behind like their second shadow.

"if it's not too much trouble, then.."

"of course it isn't."

you felt a light sweat beginning to bead down your back, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket and dabbing at your neck. this space wasn't properly suited for a stove to be used, seeing as the unlatching mechanisms on the window had been removed for the sake of thwarting any sort of curfew breaking by the volunteers, meaning there was little ventilation aside from the small chimney extending out of the kitchenette area. you stole a glance at yelena, now opening the cabinet that you had strained to reach with ease.

the memory of her hand fisting your shirt, the collar that now hugged just the slightest bit looser at the base of your neck, the long healed-over bite that had left the soft flesh of your lips feeling raw for the following few days. the external heat of the still burning stove was only intensified by the flush climbing up to your cheeks, the desire to release a button or two on your shirt and free some of your skin to the open air becoming undeniable. it felt a bit ironic that the one time you'd properly stepped into her quarters for more than a quick minute to help her get something sorted was the one time the tension that always hung in the air between the two of you was replaced by something tangibly suffocating, the sweltering heat that made you kick off your blankets in the dreary silence at night when the recollection of her kiss relentlessly looped in your mind and chased away any thought of sleep.

you hooked a finger on the collar of your shirt, gently tugging it to the side to absentmindedly press the soft cloth over the skin, wiping away any bothersome perspiration that would leave you uncomfortable by the time you were allowed to change out of your uniform and shower it away.

"what's that?" your eyes darted up at her question, catching sight of the two plated teacups in her hands before you met her gaze.

"i beg your pardon?" you asked meekly.

"that. at your shoulder." you glanced down to where your handkerchief had previously been.

"oh, do you mean this?" she nodded when you pointed to the raised line of skin marring your shoulder, a thick scar that you'd stopped fussing over after realizing that it was an inevitable outcome. "it's a scar," you clarified, tucking your personal cloth back in your pocket, "just about everyone in the military has the same one."

she didn't respond, but held your gaze as she proceeded to the table to set the cups down. you'd become more accustomed to these silent requests, and you knew that she was telling you to continue.

"you work with the equipment engineers, right?" she nodded. "then you've seen our harnesses. all those leather straps end up digging into our skin and leaving scars pretty much all over. although, i did practice on the omnidirectional gear a bit more than all the other recruits during basic training to increase my proficiency, so mine may be deeper.."

you tensed as she approached, slow, deliberate steps steadily closing the distance between the two of you until she was right in front of you. she had started stooping down more often around you, only when she was directly addressing you alone, but it was something that you noticed all the same. a part of you wanted to feel offended, that she thought it necessary to lower yourself to your level as if you were beneath her in a way besides physical stature, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the exclusive treatment. she never seemed concerned with doing any sort of thing with anyone else—not with her colleagues, not with other soldiers of or below your ranking, not with any of your own superiors, only you. in a way, it made you feel acknowledged.

"could i see?"

"huh?" was your unprofessional response, but she didn't allow you any time to correct it.

"your scars. where else do you have them?"

"oh." you swallowed, forcing yourself to look up into her steely eyes, "well, i have them on the soles of my feet, and around my thighs, mostly around my torso."

a hand on your abdomen made your back go stiff, her touch pressing lightly over your shirt. "here?"

you nodded, small and timid before her, a trickle of sweat beginning to slide down your back. you realized that you had never had to look down at yelena, not until this present moment where she had knelt down on one knee in front of you, holding your gaze for just a moment before she undid a single button from the bottom of your shirt, glancing up at you as if to check for any sign of refusal before she undid another, then another.

there was nothing forceful about her motions today, nimble fingers patiently unfastening each clasp with care until your shirt revealed your midsection. one slender hand pulled aside the cotton fabric, the other reaching out, just barely grazing the skin of your stomach where the long, pale scar from your utility belt stretched horizontally across your body. her fingertips were warm from handling the kitchenware, but the shiver that crawled up your spine was cold, almost electric, a strange sensation squeezing around your heart and lungs, making each breath quicker than the last.

"was it painful?" she asked quietly, a tinge of earnesty lining her words, features entirely relaxed as they always were.

you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, voice barely reaching a whisper. "yes."

she focused her eyes onto the marred skin, following the raised line of flesh to your sides, brow cinching upwards the slightest bit at the sight of another carving down your waist, following the curvature of your ribs.

"what resilience.." she murmured, free hand returning to undo the remaining buttons of your shirt, "determination is such a beautiful trait, don't you think?" her eyes flitted up to meet yours, sharp and observant, fingers gingerly wrapping around your waist, thumb stroking down your lumbar. "for most, i have to hear it in their voice, or through their words—but it has always been different with you." she pulled a button free. "i see it in your eyes, the way you carry yourself, it's written all over your body." another undone button, you could feel the warmth of her breath fanning across your stomach, the graze of her fingertips tracing up your side and halting at the cloth wrappings over your breasts. "are there more under this?"

your knees felt a few flattering words away from buckling, each gentle touch making the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you nodded, lips parting to take in a much-needed deep breath, realizing that your shirt was now completely open, exposing the entirety of your scarred torso aside from what remained covered by your chest bindings. your fingers curled into your palm, trembling, just then noticing how soft yelena's hands were in comparison to your own, absent of callous and work-roughened skin. you bit at the inside of your cheek, blinking down at her as you watched a thin finger trace the seam of the cloth, finding the tucked end within moments and gently pulling it free.

a few loud knocks at the door were startling enough to make you jump, head snapping to the side to face the front of the house, a muffled call of your last name from the other side making an anxious knot twist painfully tight deep in your gut. you quickly stepped away, leaving yelena kneeling on the floor, struggling to button up your shirt without even bothering to fix your chest cloth. as soon as you'd gotten yourself situated, you opened the door to find your squad leader awaiting you on the other side.

"is everything alright? breakfast started five minutes ago."

you hoped that the disbelief on your face could be taken as the expression of someone who had simply lost track of time. "i apologize, sir! m-miss yelena put in a request for marleyan coffee yesterday, and i was simply waiting for her to finish before i escorted her to the cafeteria."

you forced yourself to stay composed, trying to focus on the impassive face of your squad leader. there was a stark difference between the emotionlessness of yelena and that of everyone else around you, she somehow made her lack of any sort of feeling or warmth a beautiful kind of coldness, unlike the unnatural stoicism of your superiors. you saw his mouth open to reply, but you were both surprised by a sudden presence behind you, a firm hand at your shoulder, his eyes moving from looking down at you to looking up at the woman behind you, a flicker of genuine unease flitted across his hardened features.

"please don't fault her for my lack of punctuality," she said, a false sincerity lightening her usual low tone, "i simply wanted to enjoy a taste of home, is all. is my presence imperative?"

"i was only making sure everyone was accounted for." your squad leader asserted, staring up at her in an obvious attempt to intimidate that you knew would fail, "as long as you're being properly monitored, do as you please."

"understood." her fingers curled around your shoulder, gently urging you back, away from the door, "then i won't dawdle any longer, i'll join you all in the cafeteria momentarily."

yelena shut the door for you as soon as you took a step back, waiting until the steps of your squad leader had descended off of the porch and disappeared down the path before speaking to you. "i do hope i didn't get you in trouble."

you turned on your heel to face her, feeling a slight flutter in your chest at the sight of her already having lowered herself to your height. "oh, no, you don't have to worry about that.. he's always been a bit on the uptight side of things."

the corners of her lips perked up into the faintest smile before she proceeded back to the table, pressing a finger to the side of one of the teacups. "the coffee's gone cold now. my apologies for the distraction."

distraction, the wry thought flitted across your mind. you guessed that word was suitably to describe allowing her to nearly undress you before the sun had even fully risen in the sky. this was becoming a dangerous game, an ever-lengthening round of cat and mouse, and each day that passed made your more and more certain that you were the one who was running despite your inherent position of power over her. there was something absolutely captivating about her, whether it be the air of mystery that no amount of questions could dispel, or the way that she could practically bring you to your knees with just a few careful words—the more thought you put into it, the more instances of appeal that you seemed to find that only made you want to sink deeper and deeper into the depths that was her subtle control over you.

"i just don't want us to arrive late and miss out on anything." you said lamely, empty words to fill the air as you moved across the room to grab your jacket.

"perhaps another time." she replied, removing the dishes from the table to deposit them in the sink, leaving you with that sole promise that insinuated much more than just another cup of coffee.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"miss yelena, i don't know if we're allowed to be in this section of the building—"

"no one has stopped us yet, have they?" yelena didn't turn back to address you, only continuing forward with that long stride that took two quick steps of your own to match.

she was correct in the regard that no one had questioned her presence in the west wing of the management building, and the few that had begun to object stopped immediately upon catching sight of you following obediently behind her. you felt a bit like a prop, being used as almost a badge of clearance by the one and only individual that you were meant to keep from unauthorized locations such as this one. but her flat assertion that she had important business that gave you nothing in the way of information of direction before she'd taken off for the barracks, leaving you only able to chase after her and hope that no one figured out that she wasn't supposed to be there in the event that she truly wasn't meant to be.

you didn't have long to ruminate on your circumstances before you arrived at a door flanked by a single soldier, a young man that you recognized as someone affiliated with the more well-known soldiers from the 104th graduating class. though you didn't recall his name, you nodded politely to him as he opened the door for yelena, trailing closely behind her while still trying to peek around her slender frame. it was one of the smaller meeting rooms, a large window providing a fair amount of natural illumination down onto the round table, the sole occupant being another one of the anti-marleyan volunteers.

"glad to see you could make it." onyankopon smiled broadly up at yelena, his warm gaze flitting to you momentarily before traveling back to his associate, "no trouble, i assume?"

"none at all." she replied as she took a seat at the head of the table, looking as if she belonged there more than any of the superiors you'd seen seated there, "this one made sure no one interrupted our trip."

you flushed at the praise, standing pin straight beside her chair, hands lowering from behind your back to at your sides, trying not to let the enjoyment of her commendation show on your face. he turned his attention to you, inspiring a quick skip of your heart, fingers tapping nervously at your thighs.

"it's great to hear that yelena has been treating you well." he said matter-of-factly, but a cocked eyebrow and tilt of his head seemed to request a verbal confirmation of his statement.

you blinked, your words catching in your throat as your eyes involuntarily glanced to yelena, an instinctive desire to hold your tongue in the face of speaking about her, an odd sort of insecurity concerning your character flaring in your chest. but that split second of silence was all that she needed to take up the task of answering onyankopon, planting an elbow down on the tabletop and resting her chin in her palm.

"i have been treating her well." she affirmed, almost sounding bored, tilting her head to address you as she reached out and took the hand of yours that was closest to her, drawing it close to her face as she examined your expression, "isn't that right?"

you swallowed, mouth dry, nodding at yelena before remembering that you were meant to be answering onyankopon. "oh, y-yes. miss yelena has been very easy to work with."

pale eyes glimmered at your positive answer, mouth twitching upwards into that rare, barely noticeable smile. you felt your heart jump into your throat as she brought her lips to your knuckles, planting a soft, brief kiss over the back of your hand before gently placing it down at your side. she looked at you as if she knew exactly what you were thinking, like she could hear that unspoken worry of whether she should be doing this in front of her colleague, like she was giving the silent reply that she could do as she pleased.

"then, shall we begin?" onyankopon's voice brought you back to the present, shooting you another momentary glance before fixing his eyes on yelena.

"oh, right." she turned back to you, "be a dear and leave us for a moment to chat."

the mix of confusion at her request and surprise at the affectionate title halted your thoughts. "i'm sorry, miss yelena, but i don't think i'm allowed to do that."

your heart sank as you watched a look of annoyance draw across her features, large eyes narrowing, brow knitting together. she didn't speak for a moment, almost like she was waiting for you to take back your refusal and head on your way without any further discussion. when you did neither, she frowned, reaching out her hand once more, her fingers drawing up your palm to wrap around your wrist.

you nearly yelped as she clinched her grasp almost painfully tight, thumb pressing down hard over the bone at the side of your wrist, nails digging in your skin. her voice was low when she spoke, dangerously commanding and castigating, each word carefully enunciated.

"i said go."

only after you'd earnestly nodded did she release you, allowing you to scamper out of the room, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes from your stinging skin and the way she'd spoken to you. you took your place at the side of the door unoccupied by the soldier you'd seen before entering, fingers shakily tracing over the underside of your wrist.

though you weren't bleeding, the skin felt raw and irritated, your pulse racing fast in your veins. perhaps it wasn't so bad that you'd left them in there on their own, seeing as the older, more experienced guard was also standing by, well aware that there was no one monitoring them in the meeting room. so you obediently stood and waited, straining to make out coherent words from their muffled voices, contemplating why seeing yelena upset with you was so distressing.

why had you allowed her to order you around? why had you even complied with her demands instead of outright refusing like you were supposed to? why were you worried that she would still be angry with you by the time she walked out of that meeting room? you couldn’t understand what concerned you so deeply about what yelena thought of you, but somehow, the overbearing silence of the empty hallway made it even more difficult to wrap your head around your thoughts. you were so wrapped up in your panicked attempt at contemplation that you didn’t even notice the sound of their footsteps approaching from the other side of the door, only torn from your mind when the door opened from beside you. the two marleyans emerged, laughing affably together, exchanging temporary farewells until they could see each other at dinner that evening.

you looked up at her anxiously, wishing she’d spare you a glance for even just a moment instead of keeping her gaze fixed on the only other individuals populating the space. you hid your hands behind your back rather than in your pockets, knowing that it’d look horrendously unprofessional. but before you could worry about anyone catching sight of the reddened marks, the familiar soldier addressed you directly.

“i do look forward to working more closely with you in the future, i don’t believe we’ve met before. ” he said, outstretching a hand for you to shake, “floch forster.”

you quickly tugged the sleeve of your coat over your injured wrist, grasping his hand and giving a firm up and down, only offering your own name and a polite nod in return. you didn’t exactly know what he meant by working together in the future, but you assumed that it was in reference to your shared position of personal guards to marleyan volunteers.

you tensed at the familiar weight of a hand on your shoulder, feeling a firm squeeze that you knew all too well. “then we shall be going now. come.”

you immediately complied, giving a brief goodbye to the two men before proceeding quickly behind yelena, practically at her heels as the two of you walked further and further down the hall, shrouded in another bout of tense silence. you escorted her out of the building without issue, through the barracks and all the way to her lodgings, receiving nothing in the way of assurance or acknowledgment the entire way.

you wanted to speak up for yourself, ask if she was angered with you, anything to fill the quiet void, but you couldn't bring your mouth to push the words free. you hoped that she'd at least offer you her usual goodbye, as inherently lifeless and out of polite necessity as it may be, but it didn't come even as you unlocked the door to her quarters and held it open for her to enter, not even turning back before she sat herself at her desk and got to work on the clutter of papers occupying it.

you left her, feeling strangely heavy with defeat, unable to focus on anything for long before your mind strayed back to her upset expression, or the physical evidence of her displeasure with you. over the next hours, you constantly checked your watch, counting down the minutes to dinner, to when you'd be able to justify being in her presence and hopefully receive some sort of indicator that you were in the clear. you'd always been someone who did what was asked of you, a people pleaser—but there was something different about the inclination you felt towards yelena. it wasn't the kind of obedience that you gave to your superiors, she wasn't anything close to your superior in a technical sense, but somehow it felt natural, a servitude borne out of free will rather than one determined by ranking.

you knew you hadn't done anything wrong by denying her initially, but yet you still hoped for her forgiveness.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you quivered at the feeling of her lips sucking at the already marked skin of your neck, thighs squeezing tighter around her waist, her nails digging deep enough into them that they nearly threatened to tear the fabric of your pants. you swallowed down yet another moan, one hand working its way deeper into her short hair, the other clenching tightly to the fabric of her barely-buttoned dress shirt. your soft, shuddering breaths filled the space of the open air around you, the fear of knowing your squad leader was just outside the door waiting for a reply, adjacent to the wall that she'd pushed you up against despite your meek warnings that dinner would be starting any minute now, was almost tangible in your stomach.

she pulled away from the reddened flesh with a low hum, nipping at your ear as she demanded, "make him go away."

you barely nodded, eyes screwing shut when she began yet another bruising assault to your shoulder, not even giving you enough time to collect yourself and speak. "i apologize, s-sir. miss yelena wasn't f-feeling well, so i brought her meal h-h-here instead of escorting her to the cafeteria..!"

you nearly whimpered as her teeth sank into the soft junction between your neck and shoulder, silently praying to any higher power that may be listening for your superior to just leave already. "understood. please return the plates to the cafeteria before they close up and make it to the dormitories before curfew."

"y-yes, sir..!"

you could barely count his descending steps down the porch over the sound of your own blood roaring in your ears, only completely assured of his absence when she sighed against your skin, soothing the ache with a few apologetic licks, pressing her lips everywhere they could reach. you often found yourself recalling the first time this had happened, when the two of you were sitting at the table in her quarters and she had been apologizing for the day she'd ordered you out of the meeting room. you could still remember how her touch had trailed from stroking at your wrist, crescent nail prints still occupying your skin, to cupping your face, drawing you close to kiss her again and again—the heat of her proximity, how her hands had felt and caressed every inch of your body, whispering a breathless, endless stream of praises into your ear as you came apart under her.

though you had vowed to yourself that wouldn't allow it to happen again, that that night would be your first and only instance of giving into that weakness she'd slowly but surely carved into you, but you found yourself sinking into her arms when she beckoned you, sewing the buttons of your shirt back into place without complaint after the nights where she had become impatient and accidentally popped them free, staring at your naked body in the mirror after your long showers and tracing your fingers over the bruises she'd sucked and bitten into your tender skin.

she only marked you in places where you could hide them beneath your clothes, places which assured that she would be the sole individual to see them when she stripped you bare, only to add more and more. there was no set time between those late evenings, sometimes the interval would be less than a few days, and other times it would stretch out for weeks with no indication as to when the next occasion would come. but when it did, any semblance of self-restraint had completely diminished.

"you're such a good pet for me.." she cooed, her words sending a warm spark through every inch of you.

she'd become fond of calling you that, and a part of you wondered if that was all she saw you as, as only a pet or a possession. you'd accepted that she had the upper hand in this relationship, whatever it may be, but you couldn't help enjoying the feeling of being desired so deeply, being touched and admired in ways you'd never even imagined before you met her. your arms clasped tighter around her neck as she pulled you away from the wall, laying you out on her bed, taking a moment to strip out of her shirt before lowering herself on top of you.

her hands busied themselves ridding you of your chest wrappings, lips attentively traversing each inch of newly revealed skin, murmuring curses and sweet nothings that only made you squirm more beneath her, impatient and eager. you mewled when she'd finally settled her hands over her bare breast, large palms pressing into soft flesh, slender fingers pinching at your nipples. she turned her head up to kiss you, tongue outlining the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth, claiming it as her own.

you were left panting when she pulled away despite its briefness, hazy, low-lidded eyes finding her own, intoxicated by that carnal look, dark pupils nearly overtaking the piercing grey of her irises. she only smirked at your lack of composure, dipping her head back down to suck and bite at the valley of your breasts, your fingers reflexively tightening in her hair. your hips bucked up into nothing, desperate for any sort of friction, much to yelena's amusement.

"aren't you just the neediest little thing?" she paused to lave her tongue over a pert bud, drawing another heated sigh from you as you nodded, hoping that your agreement could persuade her to not spend so much time teasing you.

she granted you the slightest relief, taking your nipple between your lips and sucking at it, the hand not occupied with another breast trailing down the scar etched into your side, following the path down to your navel to begin unbuttoning your pants. each second seemed to drag on longer than the last, and though you knew that she wasn't purposely drawing out the process of undressing you, it was still not enough. you were practically kicking your underwear to the floor by the time they made their way around your ankles, skin still burning hot despite being fully exposed to the air.

"p-please, miss yelena.." you whimpered at the feeling of her hand tracing up and down your inner thigh, occasionally stopping to stroke across the raised lines of skin that had been inscribed into your skin by the series of belts and buckles on your gear harness, but never proceeding that final inch up to where you needed it.

she pulled away to let out a low chuckle, peering up at you through dark lashes, bare chest pressed flush against your stomach. she drank in the way your face shifted as she rested the pad of her thumb over your clit, rubbing languid circles over it as her pointer finger dipped down your cunt, instantly slick with your arousal.

"you're so worked up from just that?" she taunted, speaking at barely a murmur, "or was it because somebody was listening?"

you felt the knot of anticipation drawing tight in the pit of your stomach, watching as she took her fingers in her mouth and licked over them, thighs shuddering when she returned to their previous position. "i-it was— i j-just— please.."

you could barely form a coherent thought, back arching up to urge your body as close to hers as you could manage, only cognizant of just how close you were to being relieved of that unbearable pressure welling within you. she only smiled, close-lipped and cunning, resting her head over your heaving chest.

"your heart is racing. i wonder how much faster i could make it go.."

you nearly whined as two fingers slid into you with little resistance, her mouth closing over a nipple, alternating between gently tugging at it with her teeth and flicking over it with the tip of her tongue. your hips rocked up into her hand, matching the pace of her wrist as your head dug back into the mattress, moans and incoherent pleas spilling from your parted lips.

you could feel yourself quickly approaching that rapturous peak, hands fisting the sheets under you, white stars blotting out your vision as she curled her fingers just right. you shuddered, gasping, eyes rolling aimlessly into the back of your head as the tension that had wound itself into every muscle finally released, coming completely undone beneath her. you pressed a shaking hand over your mouth, muffling the sound of your winded breaths, letting out a small noise when she relieved you of her fingers. you felt her lips grazing over your chest, forcing your head up to look at her with bleary eyes when their feather-light touch proceeded lower and lower down your stomach.

you had expected things to come to an end as they usually did, with her pulling her clothes back on before you even had the chance to see straight and gathering your own garments from the floor to hand to you, leaving you to walk back to your dormitories on trembling legs in your wrinkled uniform. but there was no sign of that immediate withdrawal as she gathered your thighs in her hands, lifting your legs up onto her shoulders as she pressed a brief kiss over your naval.

you licked your lips nervously, already more than too sensitive at just the feeling of her breath over your soaked cunt. you opened your mouth to meekly object or ask for just a moment longer to catch your breath, but she shushed you, her heavy-lidded gaze sending a fresh bout of heat across your skin. each little quiver of your thighs only made her grip fasten, unable to keep still as she kissed at the scars and soft flesh, drawing a stifled whimper when she stopped to suck a deep mark at a spot of untarnished skin.

you could see the pale expanse of yelena's back, pristine and absent of any previous traumas, the complete opposite of your own. the first time you'd see her undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off of her slender frame, lined with muscle from her days as a soldier but still so delicate. you'd never left any marks when she'd allow you to kiss at her neck and chest, only enough to see the rosy flush settle over her body, but by that time she was more than eager to get back to playing with you instead.

you took in a deep, unsteady breath, jaw clenching and stomach tightening as her tongue drew flat up the length of your cunt, a small moan breaking from your parted lips. she pressed forward, flicking the tip of her tongue over your clit in a merciless rhythm, holding your thighs apart to accommodate her presence each time they attempted to squeeze shut. you writhed over the sheets, her name slipping from you between high-pitched whines and labored breaths, minutes melting past in an incomprehensible blur, leaving you only cognizant of her tongue and hands dragging you back over that edge again and again.

by the time she'd released you, you could barely hold your eyes open, thighs aching from her fingers digging into them, throat raw from crying out for her and gasping in what never seemed to be enough air, feeling too exhausted to even think about making the walk back to your own room. but rather than hand your clothes to you in a silent cue for your departure, you watched her make her way back up the mattress to lay beside you, pulling your heavy, sweat-slicked body against her own. you couldn't try to refuse the comfort of her warmth, face pressing into her chest, breathing in her soft, clean scent, still occasionally trembling as you tentatively allowed your hands to cling to her.

you told yourself not to get comfortable, to try to regain control of your limbs by the time her sympathy for overworking you had worn off and she ordered you away for the night, but the demand never came. you felt a large hand settle at the base of your neck, another splaying across the small of your back, her chin resting on the crown of your head, holding you close like a lover would.

"you could stay for the night if you'd like." her tone was even and collected as it always was, but hushed, like she was murmuring a secret to you.

you knew that sleeping her had already far overstepped whatever boundary had been abandoned that night she'd first kissed you, the morning where she'd marveled at your body and commended your courage, every instance you'd obeyed her rather than carry out the simple orders you were given. it was already too late to tear yourself away from this presence that you'd grown so familiar with—the one that you had feared, the one that you now craved despite how you knew you shouldn't.

"thank you, miss yelena." you whispered hoarsely, curling into her, allowing your heavy eyes to close.

that would be the first and last time you ever spent the night in her quarters.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the banquet to celebrate the completion of the rail system in trost was minutes away from commencing. the speaking podium was empty for the moment, soldiers and civilians chattering amongst themselves as they waited for the military officials to gather at the stage. you were authorized to be in the private area as yelena's personal escort, seeing as she had participated in the mapping of the railroad through the district and would be acknowledged as a contributor to the advancement of paradis.

but as excited as you were to celebrate, eat good food and hopefully get a chance to drink, you weren't looking forward to transferring your position to floch forster for the remainder of the night. although, your desire to stay by yelena's side had been momentarily dissuaded by the desire to please her when she'd requested the change a few days prior. you hadn't bothered to hide your disappointment, nor did you hold back your questions.

"change to forster? but.. why?" you had asked, in the privacy of her quarters, feeling an immediate disheartening at her words.

she didn't directly respond, the hand that had been at your shoulder rising to pet at your cheek. "you trust me, don't you?"

"y-yes, but—"

"then file a request to change with him."

you couldn't explain why you had felt such a cool emptiness burrowing into your chest, a sudden spite for the other soldier beginning to fester in the back of your mind, the thought that she would choose him over you inspiring an indescribable irateness. you turned away from her hand, not thinking of how you were pouting like a child, unwilling to meet her eyes or compromise with her. you'd been fretting over how she hadn't spared you any sort of affection in the nearly two months that had passed, the fear that she'd grown tired of you an incessant whisper in your ear. but then she had reached for you, treated you gently, persuading with that hint of sincerity she rarely ever showed you.

"it would only be for the evening, i have business to attend to that night. i'm sure you've been looking forward to the celebration?" a frown tugged at your lips, only offering a small nod in reply, meeting her eyes when she guided you by your chin to face her. "then transfer with forster, have fun for the evening—you deserve it."

you couldn't help but preen under her praise, meeting her eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of her barely-there smile. you finally caved after a moment of thought, relenting to her wishes. "i'll put in a temporary transfer request tomorrow afternoon."

"thank you, dear."

despite how you weren't exactly looking forward to forster's arrival to relieve you from duty, those final words lifted your spirits just the slightest bit. perhaps she had simply been caught up in the stress of such a grand achievement, too busy attending meetings with engineers and generals and event staff to make any spare time for you for the past weeks. you had waited for weeks before, you could continue waiting if need be. you were at her beck and call, and as long as it pleased her, you were perfectly fine doing as such.

you let out a soft sigh at the sigh of floch forster approaching, weaving through the scattered crowd with a stoic, dutiful look plastered across his expression.

"good evening, floch." yelena said from beside you.

he replied with a polite good evening to both you and her, adding your name as more of an afterthought than anything, but turning his focus back to you when you still hadn't stepped away. "you can go, i'll take it from here."

your gaze flickered over to yelena, feeling yourself relax as she nodded to you, a hand resting at your shoulder to gently urge you forward. "i'll see you tomorrow morning. enjoy yourself tonight."

so you took your leave, watching the ceremony in the company of your fellow soldiers, eyes always wandering away from the speaker and to yelena at the side of the stage. the speech concluded, the crowd cheered and applauded, and everyone was directed to the banquet hall where the remainder of the event would be held. you watched yelena and floch walk off the stage with the other officials, becoming distracted for just a moment speaking to someone but having lost sight of them by the time you looked back.

you didn't see yelena for the remainder of the night, but you did as you were told, enjoying the good food, talking to your friends, avoiding any alcohol in preparation for your usual early morning. it was all over quite quickly, and the next morning came and went, business as usual for the remainder of the next few days—then came the news of eren jaeger's disappearance, then the plans of the all-hands-on-deck operation that was to be the retrieval effort for the young man, the entire scouting branch thrown into overdrive.

and, though you never mustered the courage to ask, you felt a sinking feeling deep inside, that yelena's nightly errand with floch and eren's absence were somehow connected, that there was much more going behind the scenes that you couldn't even begin to fathom.

just wanted to give u guys a little gift for my birthday (´･ᴗ･ ` )

#yelena #snk yelena #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader smut #yelena brainrot #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

[meenah-chan]

Safe Haven ~Epilogue~

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Trigger warning: None

Requested by: @romaissa Thank you for waiting for this. I apologize for the wait. This turns out the way as I imagined it to be, more or less. I felt so fluffy as I edited this for the last time. I hope you'll like this last part. Enjoy~~ 😚✨💖💖💖

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: angst

Trigger warning: None

It was the same cliff… trees and breeze... The same dusk… But the voice calling them were not anymore...

… sensitive yet capable... One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, the sky enveloping the Devildom is dark. Very unlike that place. A place where the sun would shine so brightly even from the back of their mind. Not the human world where they grew up. Not the Celestial realm they visited once. It was only the Devildom whose light came from the moon and not the sun. Should the moon doesn’t exist in this kingdom, it’ll surely be pitch black.

Yet, in the dimness of the kingdom they’ve suddenly been to... Who would have thought I would meet my sun in such a place? A smile formed on their face as they delved deeper in their thoughts.

As they did so, a strong wind blew past them. It was strong, they didn’t notice someone approaching them.

“Oh!” a pat on their shoulder snapped them back from their deep thoughts.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” They flit their head behind and meet with the same, familiar eyes.

“Lord Diavolo... Nothing. And Queen Rose? Did something happen?” Their surprised demeanor was replaced with a confused one. Why wouldn’t it? Since unless some responsibility on the Kingdom required to, the royal couple is technically attached at the hip. Which is still pretty rare.

“Stop with those formalities. You’re making me sad.” As if he were not such a tall, well-built demon, Diavolo looks at them like a weeping dog.

“Alright, I’m just teasing you... So, what happened?”

“Rose got angry over one of my posts on Devilgram.” His pout becomes more obvious as he complains to them like a child.

“Oh, that picture.” Diavolo didn’t have to elaborate further for them to guess which one it is. It was a picture of Diavolo pecking the Queen on her cheek on their bed chamber.

“Even if I were her, I would be mad. You’re the rulers of Devildom after all. You can’t afford showing any vulnerability to your people.”

“But love is our strength!” He emphasized the last word with his hand gesture and furrowed brows.

Which only received a giggle from the human. “You sound like those princesses in the movie we watched yesterday.”

“Hey, I’m being serious… Since when did you take her side anyway?”

“I’m just speaking with reason.”

“You’re so harsh these days. Where is the angel I knew? Barbatos is rubbing on you a bit too much.”

“I won’t be if you were a bit more reasonable. And remember, Simeon can be scary too sometimes.”

Diavolo paused for a moment to think. “Right.” And let out a sigh. “Why can't I win a debate with you? I'm the King, you know.”

“Then be glad I'm an ally.”

“But Y/N...” Diavolo stared at them for a moment. “I noticed you're becoming more beautiful. More than ever.”

“...Where’s Queen Rose? She needs to know the king’s flirting with his ex—”

“Hey, I don't mean it! I mean, not that way! You're beautiful as a friend.”

“Beautiful more than ever as a friend, yes?”

“I mean it with pure intention! And Rose is the most beautiful! You know that!”

“Most beautiful. Favorite line, huh…” They sassily fiddled with their nails as they stared at it.

“Let's settle this here? I-I'll even grant you a wish.”

They glanced at him from their nails and stared at him. “Pfft— Hahaha!! I'm kidding, I’m kidding, pfft— hahaha! You should have seen your face, hahaha!”

“Are you messing with me again?” He frowned at them.

“I was but, hey. A wish from the King is rather enticing.”

Looking straight in their eyes, “Are you still mad because of our past?” he asked. As if he's been holding this question back for so long. In guilt of what they have been through because of him.

And with a smile, they replied “No.”

It was the truth.

They could never hold anything against Diavolo. They can never hate the man they fell in love with…

“Your face is just so hilarious I can't help it.” Rather, they wanted to see that expression one last time. That expression I adored way too much, as I fell beside the cliff.

“Since when did you become so fickle?” Yet despite his words, a sense of relief emanates from the Royal Demon.

He is now certain. He is finally free from the shackles he created himself. And they...

“Spare Barbatos some slack. Some regular day offs will do too and you’ll be absolved of your offense.” Without Diavolo being able to snap a last glance on their face, they turned their back to him and started walking. Despite it, a smile formed on his face.

“Consider it done...” He said as they wave as a response before disappearing from his sight.

I see you’re finally free from my curse... Diavolo chuckled as he left to return to his queen, ready to ask for another forgiveness.

---------

“Y/N.” It was the same cliff. The same trees and breeze. The same dusk who witnessed everything. But the voice calling them were not the prince’s anymore.

“Barbatos, you’re early.”

“I apologize for always making you wait for me but,” worry was showing on his face as he looked at them. “...do you always wait here this early?”

“Don’t mind it. I love waiting for you.” Barbatos’ heart skipped a beat from their words, a tint of pink forming on both person’s ear tips.

“A-Ah, right. You didn’t tell me you'll plant some flowers here.” They touched the petals of the Forget-me-not flowers as if to avert the butler’s attention.

It was as healthy as the one they took care of or perhaps even healthier.

“Were they not to your liking?”

“No, I… love them.”

“Then I'd be glad if that were the case. I raised them with the thoughts of you after all.” Even though Barbatos’ remarks were always like that, they couldn’t help but feel bashful everytime.

“Seriously, how can you say some cheesy lines so smoothly?”

“Hmm? I don’t recall saying such things.” He lifted a knuckle under his chin while glancing upward as if in thoughts.

“This guy..!” All they could do is shut up and frown. They couldn’t remember a time where they actually won on Barbatos’ wordplays.

“Is there something that displeases my flower?” Barbatos moved towards them when the frown they wore turned into a sad smile when they glanced again at the blue flowers.

“Well...” they sighed, Barbatos now stepping in to caress their face. “I just remembered the poor flowers I destroyed that day. I cared for them for a long time only to die from my own hands.”

Barbatos brushed his thumb to their cheek, fondness reflected in his eyes. “But they didn’t.” It was still like a dream for him to be able to hold them freely as he wished.

“What do you mean? Of course they will. I pulled them all off the ground myself.”

“Would you believe me if I said this plant was your flower’s seedlings and roots?”

“Y-You mean..!?” The human’s eyes snapped back to the Forget-me-nots. That’s probably why the flowers have the exact same shade and size as back then.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.” He let them go to squat and check the flowers closely.

It took a while as they observed and admired the lush flowers. It was a comfortable silence, as Barbatos watched his favorite bud.

“Hey Barbatos.” Finally satisfied from staring at it, they rose on their feet. “I had some silly idle thoughts a while ago.”

“What is it?” He asked. But unlike them, the demon butler’s eyes never left his favorite flower. He could spend another millenia just gazing at them, and still say it’s the best sight he's ever seen.

“Devildom is a dark place no matter how I try to think of it.” He watch their back across the nightfall. The way the cold breeze brush through their locks. Those subtle shivers they give off as chills bites at their sensitive yet capable arms. One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

“Then how come of all places, I’ll meet my sun there?” He tread beside them, not minding their words.

Not even the fondness in Barbatos’ eyes yields. Not in the slightest.

He knew. It was Diavolo. It will always be his Young Master. “He was so bright. So dazzling yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Diavolo will always be my sun.” And he… He already accepted this fact a long time ago. Staying by their side, until they found their happiness, is more than enough for him.

So instead of reacting, he removed his coat and placed it over their shoulder.

“I won’t forget. I will cherish the memories he left, no matter how painful it is. After all, he and the memories,” but they were thinking differently from Barbatos. They spun on their feet, suddenly facing him, who was just a few inches away from them, “...they all led me to my moon.” Their eyes were glistening, with him reflected in it. It took his breath– his words away.

“Shining through my darkest nights. Cradling me with its gentle light. Brushing off the tears from my eyes. My precious moon, who helped me remember that there’s still happiness beyond my sorrow.” They reached for his face. “Nights were supposed to be cold, yet he brings warmth instead. And you know what’s the most amusing thing?”

“In Devildom, whether it is day or night, you can see the moon in its brightest.” He never wants to assume anything, yet the way their thumb runs across his cheek so tenderly… The hope he hid with all his might, surges out wanting to be freed.

“Oh, but there is just one problem with my moon. He was so selfless, he wouldn't take me to himself.” The hand next to his cheek moved and brushed to the tip of his nose.

“Pardon?” He thought he finally sealed it away so perfectly, so why… With just a single touch…?

“I don’t wanna be single forever yet he keeps on ignoring my signs...”

“Wait, you mean…” But his promise… his vow to them...

“I still can’t say I don’t have any more feelings with Diavolo but I swear, I mean it. That’s why I’m already taking this to my hands… Hey–!” The knot within Barbatos’ heart came undone, along with the stream of tears he’s holding back due to their dreamlike words.

“Barbatos. Hey, don’t cry.”

They tried scooping his face with both hands only to stop by his own.“I’m so happy.” He placed one of their hands on his chest. It was warm, with his heart practically drumming crazily fast.

He never knew it’s possible to feel happier than the day they allowed him by their side. Incomparably so. It was at that moment he felt so… alive.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.”

“This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my life.” He pulled their other hand and placed a tender kiss on its palm.

“I wonder if I can surpass this next time.”

“Then how about a kiss? Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” They took another step towards him, “I love you, my Luna.”

“I love you more, my Flora.” Barbatos sewed the space between them and soon, two breaths became one. All the words dissolved between their lips. Yet, all the emotions bottled up within poured out.

Of loneliness. Of longing. Of elation. Of attachment and inclination. With a spice of passion and devotion. All swirling together, filling the gaps in their hearts.

They parted just to converge again, like how their threads of fate crossed, unraveled and intertwined together.

The coldness of the night now utterly nonexistent within their moment, as they were embraced by the vivid rays of moonlight.

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

#I love how this and the whole series turned out :">💖💖💖 #Also have another WIP I'll finish after this so stay tuned~~ 😚💖 #obey me fanfic #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #barbatos angst #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #om! #obey me swd #obey me masters #obey me boys #meenah-chan's babey fics~~ #meenah-chan~~

[gopeachllama]

You on My Skin (Forever)

Here, in the honest, yielding sunlight, where darkness cannot lurk, Elain sees all that she needs, and takes if for herself. She takes it for the both of them.

~~~

This one is for all my elriel stans, y'all are amazing. This has got a little bit of everything angst, fluff, smut, and gardens.

Apologies for any errors, my brain is mush and i don't have the sound of mind to edit this yet.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas

Relationship: Elain & Azriel

Word Count: 4000

Warning: Sexual content NSFW

~~~

Many can simply fawn over a flower’s beauty, but rarely do they think about hardships of nurturing them. Getting the soil just right for a particular breed. Planting a seed, hoping that in the following days, with all the dedication and care, it will sprout forth from the ground, ready for the world. The disappointment and uncertainty when after weeks, the ground remained flat. Witnessing a flower bloom, marvelling at its beauty, only for it to shrivel and decay far too soon. Agonising over what went wrong, about what could have been done differently. It was a trial. And trial often meant trying and failing and trying again. Elain was going through her own trial too, in more ways than one. Her knees dug into the soft ground, raking and moulding through the moist dirt. It was a well develop choreography. In all her time as a mortal, her imagination ran wild about the mysterious land beyond the wall. She believed the rivers ran pink and the exotic flora had claws and fangs. A place where she didn’t belong. But here now, with the relentless sun on her back, the dirt beneath her fingernails, the sweat on her brow. She never expected it to be so normal.

Here now, in her garden, she feels. Like she was almost human again. No, not human. Elain understood that now. Her mortal body was just that. A fleeting vessel. Even her Made, immortal form. For it were her spirit, her soul, that were parts of her that are truly forever. Elain understood that, when she saw Rhysand, a centuries-old Fae whom she was taught to fear, desperate to protect innocent fae and humans alike. She understood, when she saw her younger sister Feyre, Made anew, continue to love unconditionally, and paint joyously in this new life she fought for herself. And she understood when she saw Azriel. Azriel, who experiences such horror and suffering from a young age. Who time and time again, saw the worst of the world, continued to smile, and dance with his family, and live. No, she was not human, and she never would be again. But perhaps she could be the person she once was. A person who would stay in the hot sun all day just to see the way her loved ones would smile, when they saw the fruits of her hard labour.

There were moments, every now and again. Moments when she is restless in her sleep, and thinks the bedsheet tangled in her legs are phantom arms pulling her deeper into the endless dark nothing of the Cauldron. When she can hear the frantic beating of her heart and thinks it is the soft purrs of the Cauldron’s will. But then she wakes and sees shadows dancing with the moonlight. She looks outside her window, at the endless glittering night sky and remembers. There wasn’t anything so magnificent inside the Cauldron. There wasn’t even anything so magnificent in her mortal village. It was like that, after countless desolate days in an unfamiliar body staring out the window at the townhouse, Elain realised that not only could she have a life here, but that it could be better than she ever imagined.

She was slowly starting to build her own life here in the City of Starlight. There was a small hole-in-the-wall patisserie that she would visit time to time. She had befriended the chief who taught her recipes for the most decadent of desserts. There was a vendor down on the banks of the Sidra, who would accept of manner of flowers she grew in her garden. On occasion he would give her a handful of seedlings. She would not know what they bore until they sprouted from her hard labour. There was a flora scholar that lived on the outskirts of the city, she taught her the names of a myriad of rare flowers and the symbolisms behind them. Every now and again, she was invited to join scholar on her expeditions to uncover new species in the farthest corners of the realm. Elain was finding it harder to refuse each time. This was life for her. It was simple, but it was only the beginning.

Elain carded her elongated fingers through the soft, moist dirt. Every so often, they would catch onto a stray weed, which she would then rip from the earth with a single finger with her newfound Fae strength. The sun was well and truly at the highest point in its trek through the sky. Elain welcomed the light and warmth, but she was not blind to the lurking darkness. He gazed hardened at the ever-present shadows hiding between leaves and petals. To anyone else, they would not think twice. But she knew better.

“Begone!” she spoke, sweeping an arm towards the quivering darkness, that stilled at her sudden demand. “Tell your master, if he wishes to spy on me, he may do so with his own two eyes.”

The shadows deepened in answer, and Elain momentarily chided herself for foolishly believing she possessed the power to command them. But they rippled on final time before the dissolved, giving way to sunlight. Elain returned to her work, and not three minutes later, she felt the air shift, the earthy scent of the soil mingling with the scent of pine.

Azriel remained out of her vision when he spoke. “Elain-”

“No.” she cut him off, eyes still at her hands in the dirt. “I said you could spy. I did not give you permission to speak.”

Azriel aptly choose to stay silent. But after a while his tightly coiled demeanour relaxed, as if he were content to simply watch Elain work. It was a routine that was once so familiar to her and she had never forgotten the feeling of his calm presence nearby. It was a feeling she had not felt for an age. Elain chest ached. Not since that night Azriel walked away from her for the first time. And he had stayed away all these months later. Until now. She desperately tried to distract herself from her growing sorrow. Haphazardly raking her hand through dirt. Ripping weeds and thorns out from the earth with abandon as her sorrow slowly gave way to anger. He palm had caught on a particularly stubborn vine, tearing at the skin. The coppery scent of blood diluted the air and Azriel was there in an instance, a scarred hand cradling a freshly wounded one. A lump was steadfastly forming in her throat at the first proper sight of the male. Elain believed Azriel was the most beautiful in the honest, unyielding light of day. He towered over her even as he knelt, powerful dark wings at his back. The sun peeking over his head, lit his hair up like the golden ring of a halo. He was an angel. A beautiful dark angel.

His fingers traced gently over the skin surrounding the cut. “I am sorry, Elain.” He said in a hoarse whisper. Elain knew he wasn’t talking about her hand. The pain etched on his face mirrored what she was feeling inside. And her rising anger dissolve with the summer breeze. She twisted her hand in his to grasp him, and when their eyes met, she threw every roaring emotion into her gaze.

“You know, Azriel.” She said, hold his hand to her chest, right over her heart. “You know what it is I feel for you.”

“I- I too, care for you deeply, and nothing will change that.” Elain could feel his intent to retreat. She blazed through.

“No Az. You know. You’ve known since Solstice, how much I want you.” That was it. She did not want to unspeak the words, even if she could.

“That night… I let myself get carried away. I should not have allowed it to go so far. I am sorry for confusing you.” His eyes dropped to his lap. The burden he thought he had to bear entirely on his own was a physical weight on his shoulders.

“Do not patronise me, Azriel, I am not a child. I have agency over my own body. I wouldn’t have let you touch me if that wasn’t what I wanted.” Elain let his voice dip lower, she need to make sure he understood everything she was saying. It was no taunt, no seduction. Just pure truth. “I would have let you kiss me that night. And it wouldn’t have been enough. It will never be enough with you. I would have let you take me to your room. I would have let you strip me bare. And I would have let you have all of me, in every way you desire.”

“Enough Elain.” He growled through gritted teeth. He tried to pull away for her, but it was no use, her fingers were too tightly wrapped around his wrist.

“And I know you feel the same way, because I know what is in your heart, Azriel.” She rose her free hand to rest it gently on the centre of his chest. The song of his wild, beating heart was as familiar as her own. “All these years, you have shown me parts of you that you don’t let anyone else see. Your smile, your laugh, your quiet strength, your fears, your sadness. Bit by bit, you have given me these small pieces of yourself. Such precious treasures I feel so honoured to have.”

Azriel’s eyes were impossibly wide. They glowed, as rays of sunlight caught onto the golden flecks of his irises. Elain wondered if she has ever seen anything so beautiful. She only hardened her gaze with sureness and ignored the stinging pain of the cuts on her hand as she gripped his tighter. “And now you expect me to give them back to you. Well, I won’t.”

“Elain-” the fingers that are on the male’s chest curl into the fabric of his loose shirt. Elain saw the apprehension was still there, but he didn’t move away.

“I know what is in your heart, Azriel. Because it is mine.”

Azriel let out a great, shuddered breath, his hand going limp in hers. And all at once, Elain moved. Delicate, soft thighs encasing hard, muscled ones. The hand that had held his, slid further up his arm to his shoulder. She leaned her breasts into his, two hearts meeting and beating in harmony. And Elain kissed Azirel. Her lips moved against his, wild but sure. She licked and nipped, with all her inexperience. But she persisted, kissing him in the way she always dreamed he would for her. And soon enough, Azirel’s mouth began to move tentatively against her own. She loathed the physical space that existed between them, and she pressed herself even closer to him. She straddled him fully, her dress rode up in the process and left milky white skin in its path. Scarred fingertips ghosted along her exposed thigh, igniting a hot spark of pleasure that travelled straight to her core. She felt him everywhere, and not nearly enough. When Elain moaned into Azriel’s mouth, her heart soared to the skies above their heads, but he stilled abruptly, before ripping away from her entirely.

The pair’s harsh breathing tore through the taunt air between them. “Elain.” Azriel was nothing but trembling fingers, dilated pupils and swollen lips. His voice was hoarse, and gooseflesh erupted as it tickled Elain’s skin. “We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Wrong. Nothing had felt more right, than the feel on his soft lips on her own. Elain didn’t know who he was tyring to fool. Because it certainly wasn’t her. In the frantic coupling, Azriel’s hand had found its way to the dip between her neck and shoulder. Unbeknownst to him, his fingertips traced over the smooth skin, the same way he did all those months ago. But unlike then, when they stood in a shadowy alcove in the quiet, late hours of the longest night of the year, they hid, where no one but the Mother could see them. But as they knelt here now, knees digging into the soft, moist dirt. The air thick with the earthy scent of the soil and their desires. While the light of the midday sun enveloped them, as the warm summer breeze caressed their skin. There was no darkness here. No more hiding. Elain refused to waiver.

“Let me go then.” She whispered, just loud enough so that her voice would not be carried away with the breeze. “Let me go, and this shall be the end of us.”

The male froze completely, it didn’t even look as if he were breathing. But Elain waited. Not allowing her mind jump to the worst outcome. His gaze darted all over her. Her dirt-stained dress, ruffled hair, pink cheeks. His focus stayed at her parted lips for a heartbeat longer than the rest before it slowly met hers again. His eyes that had darken with desire were not wholly of this world. Elain waited with bated breath. A moment, then another. He did not balk. He did not move away. Offer and permission. In the next moment, she lunged. And the two fell into a tangle heap of limbs and wings.

Flora of all sorts surrounded them. Sticking to their clothes, tickling their skin. Dirt sprayed from where Azirel’s back hit the ground, sinking into his hair while she carded her fingers through it. But Elain couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when a heavy, muscled arm draped over the small of her back, aligning her body pefectly with his. Not when Azirel’s lips matched her own’s passionate desperation to claim. Azriel kissed Elain in a way she never imagined beyond her wildest dreams. He licked along her tongue and nipped his teeth at her bottom lip. Elain mewled and dragged her hips over his in attempt to relieve the carnal heat growing at her centre. But when she grazed along his solid, hard length, an animalistic noise ripped from the back of his throat that left her panting. Elain knew there was nothing; no being nor length of time that could ever sate her greed for him. She needed him, body and soul. And she would have him. She lifted her lips slightly from him, his tongue quickly darting out to swipe along her bottom lip, as if he could not bare to be without her touch.

“You’re mine, Azriel.” She gasped into his skin. He could only groan in agreement.

“Elain, Elain.” He whispered in fervour between kisses. “Forgive me, Elain.”

“I will forgive you, my love.” Her mouth curled into a smile as she traced a thumb over his dirt-stained cheek. “So long as you kiss me hard enough to make me forget the reason you beg for it.”

Azirel gave a dimpled smile, and amusement glinted in his eyes. Elain tucked the precious image away safely into her mind. “Hm. And where would you like me to kiss you? Here?” He raised his chin and oh, so softly, pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Lower.” She whispered as her eyes shuttered closed.

“Here?” He kissed her again, this time on a fluttering eyelid.

“Lower.” All the way down her face, along her jaw, and down her neck, he mapped her heated skin with delicate, fleeting kisses. Azriel sat up again, with Elain in his arms. And when his kissed her just below the dip of her collarbones, she replied still, “lower.”

“Hm.” His nostrils flared, and his fingers dug into the dip of her waist, as he no doubt scented the fresh torrent of Elain’s arousal. He remained restrained however, bringing a finger up to curl around the lace string holding up her top. But Elain was lost. Lost from all sense of propriety. Lost in him. Her patience all but ran out, and so she – quite gracelessly – grasped the neckline of her dress and yanked it down to expose her bare breasts. He watched in reverence as the pink dusty nipples hardened in the midday breeze. Azriel needed no further encouragements, jerking forward to cup a supple breast in each hand, rubbing and squeezing. Elain moaned incoherently, one hand clawing at his back while the other tugged harshly on his hair at the nape of his neck, as he dragged the rough pads of his thumbs over her nipples.

“How about here, hm? Would you like me to kiss you here?” Elain couldn’t speak. She could only feel. The scorching focus of his gaze, the fingers clamped on her sensitive skin, the hard imprint of his cock rubbing against her centre. Suddenly, his fingers pinched tightly around a nipple, and she choked on a gasp. The slight pain only further inflamed her desire, and Elain bucked uselessly in his hold. Azriel’s voice somehow dropped even lower, “answer me, love. Do you want me to kiss you here?”

“Please.” There was only pure, carnal ruination on her face, and Azriel dissolved into a string of curses as he dove into the valley of her breasts. At the first hot swipe of his tongue over a sore nipple, Elain threw her head back and cried out. Right there, into the open air of her garden. Her family’s treasured river estate, a mere distance away.

Azriel groaned wantonly as he licked and sucked. And his words where a broken muffle into her chest. For he could not get himself to stop long enough to finish a sentence. “Gods you… you taste… Elain.”

Teeth caught on to soft flesh, and Elain was undone. She hadn’t even recognised the feeling. The rising hunger the began at her toes, slowly slithering it’s way upper her body. The desperate fury of reaching to a peak. And then, the freefall. The sudden weightless before it all came crashing down. Her very being, building and fracturing in a vicious, intoxicating cycle. Elain was dying. She had to be. For there was no possible explanation for how she could feel so much in one moment. She had known pleasure when she was human. Or she thought she had. But this. With Azriel. She would die a thousand deaths. She would bathe in the Cauldron a thousand times. She would slay a thousand kings. She would stumble and fail and try, over and over again. Just to have Azriel like this, feeling everything and nothing.

Air went in and out of her in frantic heaves as her body crumble into his, her energy wholly wrung out with pleasure. Elain couldn’t move, she couldn’t conjure any cohesive thought. But for Azriel, whatever barriers for restraint remained within him finally broke, and he was the one to move this time. He pressed Elain’s pliant body back to the ground, a palm at the back of her head to cushion her landing and settled himself between her open legs. They made love with slow, deep kisses. With lazy, perfect glide of hips. With quiet confessions of “love you”s and “missed you”s imprinted onto skin. It was all too much too soon. Azriel’s teeth biting along the pulsating skin of her neck, the rough fabric of his shirt scrapping deliciously over her overstimulated nipples, the long drag of his thick, hard cock over her dripping, wet core. He gasped and groaned and muttered unintelligibly. His large, powerful wings flaring out behind him in one great sweep. The ever-present sunlight seeped through the membranous flesh, painting their surrounding in a soft, red glow. Elain was mesmerised as she reached out a delicate hand to trace a finger along the taunt, leathery skin. Azriel stuttered and growled and cursed harshly. She did again, this time with her nail. It seemed that was all the male needed to reach his own peak. Azriel choked on a bellow, his hip moving erratically into hers as he spilled into his pants. The sharp scent of his release overwhelmed Elain’s senses and she couldn’t help her own whimpers as her arousal spiked. Her tongue going unexpectedly heavy in her mouth.

Azriel took a moment to regain his composure, his face buried in Elain’s chest as he lied fully on top of her. She gently carded her fingers through his hair, wanting for this moment never to end. But it did, just not in the way she expected. Azriel laughed. Secretly at first, with just the curl of his lips. Then soon with his entire body. It was all dimples and teeth and glittering eyes, and Elain could only blink up at him with question.

“I’m sorry, Elain.” He propped himself up on his elbows, “I’m not usually so… premature.”

Elain smiled to mirror his, as she raised hand to cradle his cheek. He turned his face to nuzzle into it. “It was perfect.”

His kissed her palm before returning his gaze to her. The lightness in his expression had dimmed, but there was no regret in his eyes. “There is no going back now. For either of us.”

“I know. But I am not afraid.” She met his gaze with her own steady one. Azriel’s cupped hand over the one that was on his face and pressed it further into his cheek. His brows pulled together, eyes shuttering closed.

“Thank you, Elain.” He spoke, just barely above a whisper. “Thank you for being strong for the both of us.”

“I will be your strength, as you are mine.” She echoed back into the cocooned air between them.

The shared another kiss. This one, the most tender and loving of all. Elain went to speak but didn’t move away.

“Azriel, can I ask something of you?”

“Anything.” He murmured onto her lips; he traced the skin beneath her breasts soothingly with scarred fingertips.

“Will you strike a bargain with me?” She asked and waited. Azriel lifted his head from hers, eyebrows rising into his forehead as the words took weight. His mouth dropped opened, but no words came forth.

“I give you my life, in exchange for yours. Nothing more, nothing less.” Not a bond between equals. But an equal exchange.

Azriel eyes flicked all over her face, as if he were searching for any hint of hesitation. He would not find it. He seemed momentarily lost within himself. Bewildered, hesitating, then gradually, deciding, resolving. His eyes met hers again, and Elain had never seen such quiet conviction behind them.

“My life was yours the moment I placed True Teller in your hand.” Azriel confessed. Elain’s breath hitched in her throat as she casted her mind back to that day all those years ago. He took her hand to hold out in between them. “I will love and treasure yours with everything I am, until I am nothing but earth and wind.”

“My life is yours, Azriel.” Elain reached in towards the glowing kernel inside of her. Her power dance with Azriel’s, before settling on their skins. Dark patterns began to appear on Elain’s flesh, swirls of black, that resembled Azriel’s own markings, inked under the bottom curve of her breasts, where his finger had mapped out just moments before. When it met in the valley, it materialised into a solid shape: and obsidian hilt between her breasts, and the blade of abdagger pointing down towards her navel. Azriel’s eyes burned at the sight of his weapon, Truth Teller, permanently imprinted on Elain’s skin, and she could feel him going hard against her hip. He could feel the magic, fizzle at the notch of his spine just below his neck, where her fingers were currently curled around. And if he turned, Elain would see a pair of familiar eyes made from geometric patten inked there. Her eyes forever imprinted on his skin. The spy and the seer.

Elain and Azriel spent the rest of the afternoon trading kisses and touches and sweet nothings, even as the sun sank low into the horizon. Day gave way to night. But was nothing to fear, no reason to hide. Because light will always follow darkness. And a new day will always dawn.

~~~

i am an absolute WHORE for possessive!elain

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✌🏾

#acotar #acotar fic #elain #azriel #elriel #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #you have NO idea how close i was to naming this 'Love is a Dagger' #my writing

[ironmandeficiency]

rain clouds

pairing: maxwell lord / reader

word count: 2813

summary: i don’t even know what to say abt this one except it’s filled with yearning

a/n: this was gonna be super soft and happy but then it got soft and sad and then soft and happy again. posting from mobile yet again. tbh idek if this makes a lick of sense, we will see

warnings: mentions of shitty parents (maxwell’s dad & alistair’s mom), hints at child neglect & cps, anxious max, don't worry it gets fluffy

maxwell lord hasn’t had a day off since he founded black gold cooperative. that business was his baby long before he had a living baby with his ex wife, and loved both just as much. there was no such thing as a “sick day” to max; any day spent sleeping or healing is a day lost in the pursuit of greatness, the pilgrimage to the top of the corporate food chain. the only one he would ever make an exception for is alistair, and even then work would sometimes interrupt.

there was a time, almost too long ago for him to vividly remember, where maxwell did more than work. when he actually got his hands dirty in something that didn’t have anything to do with corporate schemes, and laughed with genuine glee more often than scowled. it was a long time ago now, and no one would ever believe it if they were told that maxwell lord ever got dirty with, well, dirt.

“come on! you gotta try this, it’s great!” the memories of his only friend have become worn with constant reminiscing, his mind unsure as to what’s real and what he imagined to fill in the gaps left by age and new priorities.

maxwell had found a secluded section of the park down the street from the apartment you both lived in, one safe from the eyes of bullies and adults alike. his feet were bare as the day he was born while making leaps and bounds in the abundant mud puddles from yesterday’s rain. he did his best to not let what little joy he found be dwindled by circumstance — his shitty father and reticent mother and the lingering ghost of poverty — the way others lost theirs. max believed himself different than that and carried himself as such no matter what others said.

you were still on the sidewalk, watching your best friend with awe and curiosity. the idea of traipsing through mud barefooted was exhilarating, but you knew that if your clothes got dirty, your mother would hang you out to dry alongside the clothes you were wearing. how did it feel to have the mud between your toes, the rainwater soaking into your skin? you didn’t remember, but you would like to.

to be honest, maxwell didn’t expect you to join him. he didn’t think you would ever try to break out of the box of propriety your family shoved you in, not now or ever. but the next thing he knew, he heard another set of feet splashing around in the puddles he had just vacated, making a path to where he stood. a playful shriek he knew as yours rang through the air and he immediately turned to you, wanting to see your face as you enjoyed yourself for the first time in a long time. “maxwell, this is wonderful! why didn’t you get me to do this earlier?”

you never looked more beautiful to him than when the afternoon sun shone on you, your smile bright and laughter clear and joyous. you were free as lady liberty, splashing around like there wasn’t a single other thing you had to do. then you take his hand and max swears that he’s seeing stars. before you know it, you’re dancing in the mud to the song of the birds in the trees. is it just max’s imagination, or do you tell him you love him?

your lips are on his and it’s magic. his shirt is being gripped in tight fists and his hands are magnetized to your waist, holding each other tight enough to need a crowbar to separate you. there’s nowhere he would rather be than back there with you…

but it’s been far too many years since he’s seen or heard from you, there’s no telling if you’re even in the country still at this point. it took a long time for him to not dolefully gaze at every door you could walk through once he left for college, hoping to see that radiant smile and hear you say his name so reverently.

but these days, reverence is the last thing maxwell thinks he deserves, not after the dreamstone debacle. hell, he isn’t even completely convinced that he can adequately take care of alistair despite the low standards his father and his ex-wife have presented him with. despite these doubts (and the perplexing way that everyone acted as if he never almost took over the world), he was just given full custody of alistair when the school called cps on his ex-wife for neglect. it was a terrible way to get a second chance at doing right by his son, but it’s a second chance nonetheless.

after seeing sense and liquidating black gold while he still could get something to survive with, he and alistair found a two bedroom apartment in a nice part of town. it was miniscule compared to what he had but it was a sight more than what he could have ended up with. besides, max had no time to be frivolous when he had his son to protect.

back to the grindstone he went. he knew that people would recognize him if he kept his current appearance and name, so he retired the lord name and decided on another fresh start. he slowly adjusted to using lorenzano after so many years rejecting it, got the blond removed from his hair. he found a job in financial advisory, and ironically enough, he was damn good at it. he knows what he’s doing when it comes to money that isn’t his, who’d have thought?

he actually knew a couple people from work that he almost considered friends. honestly he wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore, didn’t remember the feelings that were supposed to be associated with having them. but it was enough, truly more than enough; because this progress meant that he was dragging himself out of the grave he dug, because he was taking care of his son first and foremost.

alistair was put into a new school; nothing fancy, just the nicer public school that was a pleasing midpoint between work and their apartment. the first day he attended, alistair came home with so many good stories about the friends he made and the games they played at recess. within a few months he had been contacted by his teacher who had nothing but praise for little alistair lorenzano. his little boy was excelling and max couldn’t have been more proud than he was during that phone call. seconds after he hung up, he found alistair in his bedroom and wrapped him in a massive hug, making sure to emphasize the fact that max was proud of his son.

and then there was his neighbor. they lived across the hall from him and max would only catch the tail end of their arrivals and departures to their apartment. he did think it was rather odd, their strangely adept ability at avoiding him. if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was on purpose.

it wasn't intentional — not quite.

you had been avoiding your neighbor, but it had nothing to do with the oil commercials or dreamstone debacle — your new neighbor made you sad. the feeling would hit every time you saw him. his mere presence dusted off long-worn and cherished memories of a time where the sun felt warmer on your skin, where smiles came easier than heartache.

it took a long while before you realized why: it was because this mystery man reminded you of a love long lost to the dagger of circumstance. something about his walk, or maybe his hands during the times you’d see him open his apartment door, reminded you of what an older maxwell lorenzano could have been. the section of your heart that housed your thoughts of maxwell had been wrapped in caution tape with every hazard sign known to man flashing around it for many years, not wanting to venture there for more than a few moments in fear of hurting yourself even more.

if only you realized it was really max that you were so adamantly avoiding.

three months went by of max wondering why he still has yet to meet his neighbor. not that it was imperative to his daily survival, but his curiosity was all but tearing him apart at the seams. he didn’t know what else to do; yes he wanted to know his neighbor, but how did he go about that when they never saw each other?

“just knock on their door, daddy. be their friend, like you tell me to do when i go to school.” the childlike innocence alistair speaks with betrays the actual feasibility of the idea. maxwell was overthinking everything! people talked to their neighbors all the time! this could just be a simple “hey are you doing okay?” and the chips would fall where they may.

maxwell ruffles his son’s hair affectionately, pulling him into a small hug. “you know what? that’s exactly what i’m gonna do. thanks buddy, i’ll be right back.” it’s only across the hall, max isn’t gonna be gone long.

it’s been years since he’s done anything this casually daring. everything he did for decades was all high risk yielding high reward. talking to his neighbor should seem simple in comparison — it presented no drastic consequence if it went belly up, he almost never saw his neighbor anyway. that wouldn’t change after he finally sated his curiosity, certainly not.

once alistair’s homework is finished and is entranced by the television, maxwell decides to head next door, being sure that the house keys are in his pocket before shutting the door. he probably should have thought it out more than he did — he had no idea about his neighbor’s work schedule or if they had kids or a spouse, if they were a serial killer or an introvert. or even worse, if they happened to be someone who remembers everything he’s done. that would be his luck, his first true attempt at making a friend being thwarted with the magnitude of his past sins.

he doesn’t hear his own front door open, alistair’s head poking out to watch his dad. “knock, daddy!” he whisper-shouts and nearly shakes maxwell out of his skin. the little boy laughs at his dad’s startled expression before nodding and shutting the door back.

max went to knock but realized with his knuckles only an inch from the wood that his hands were peculiarly slippery. when did maxwell’s hands get so clammy? there was nothing to be nervous about. he was just going to attempt to make a friend, like his son simplified.

but the thing is, maxwell knows that it’s been decades since he’s had a friend. the last time someone outside of his son was kind to him not for the zeroes he wrote in checkbooks was you, and sometimes he even doubted that you were real. there are hazy memories of him as a teen that splashed in mud puddles and kissed a being of pure sunshine with the innocence of youth. he hopes they’re real, for his sake and for the sunshine he romped around the park with. maybe memories of him are keeping you sane the way your memory did for him.

as his thoughts spiraled, maxwell lost his nerve. with a heaping dose of irrationality, he didn’t want to disappoint whoever was on the other side of the door. turns out, there was no one on the other side.

“excuse me, did you need something?”

your first instinct when seeing a man almost knocking on your apartment door, on a normal day, was not to be so polite. but you were having a strangely good day and there was no reason to bring down the positive energy with an abrasive attitude. plus, the man looked so conflicted. he seemed to need a friend.

“i, uh, live across the hall, have been for a few months and never got to meet you.” a small gesture to the side shifted your attention to the door across from yours — and the little boy who had the door cracked just enough to see the interaction between you and who you think must be his dad.

this man’s voice, something about it was familiar. he moved from in front of your door and extended his hand towards you in an effort for a decent introduction. “i’m maxwell lor-lorenzano.”

maxwell lorenzano. you never would have thought that out of all the people to have graced this apartment building, he would be one. his hands were still softly strong and shoulders still broad. his eyes were still the same striking shade of brown, but there was a lot more pain there, a lot of experience that was clearly pushing him down by his shoulders and into the depths of anguish. yet there he was, keeping his head above water and still being kind. this truly was your max.

you take his hand with a soft smile, squeezing it gently as you give your name. “it’s been a long time, max.”

max couldn’t believe it. after all these years, it was you.

you had moved in across the street from him in his early teenage years and had become acquainted when walking to school and home. the two of you trekked through high school together, ignoring the cruelty of classmates and focusing on getting to the future, to freedom. hope of being friends after high school was abundant in the beginning, but soon your paths sent you further and further away from each other and towards a future neither of you were sure you wanted without the other.

“it really has been a while. i- i uh,” he could barely string a sentence together anymore. his shock and joy of seeing you again had his brain melting into goo and his tongue an almost immovable weight. “i missed you.” the blood rushed to your face the way it always did when you were with max. even when stuttering over his words and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, he was still charming.

max noticed your attire and the wet umbrella in hand and was immediately taken back to that day spent in the park after it rained, when he . the sunshine on his skin, your smile that never failed to take his breath away…

a soft smile was on max’s lips but his eyes were somewhere else. “max? is everything okay?”

“do you remember the day we went to the park, when we splashed in the puddles and-“

“and when i kissed you? i could never forget if i tried.”

you really did kiss him! it made him want to do it again, as many times as you would let him. but that brought one little stipulation with it: alistair.

what would you say when you found out he had a son?

before max’s thoughts could dampen your reunion, you continued, and with every word, you solidified your place in his heart. “maybe we could do that again some time, just like we used to. and you could bring your son too, if you’d like.” you were jumping out on a limb by assuming that the little boy was his son, but with the apparent protectiveness max displayed around him when you see them together, what else could he be?

“that sounds so fun! can we, dad?” alistair made his presence known by pummeling into max’s legs, nearly knocking him over with an excited hug. you grinned at the affection, watching max’s eyes fill with warmth as he gazed at his son. “i don’t see why not. just change into some play clothes and get your raincoat from the hall closet.”

alistair shoots with glee and is immediately running back to the apartment, excited to change clothes and play in the rain. you watch max’s eyes as they light up at alistair’s happiness, that flicker reminding of you of when you were younger and the world was kinder to you both.

here was your second chance with max, another opportunity to be with someone who never stopped loving you even as the seasons changed and the zeroes increased. “i’ll let you guys get changed, come knock when you’re ready to go.”

feeling an uptick in bravery, max placed a quick peck to your cheek before he turned toward his apartment. “will do, see you in a few.” the risk he took was well worth seeing you grow bashful at the affection, eyes flitting to your shoes before back at him, a soft smile across your lips. you watched him walk away before going back into your apartment, waiting for the rest of your life to begin at the rapping of knuckles on solid oak.

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#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord reader insert #maxwell lord imagines #emotional support capitalist #maxwell lord #pedro pascal #i’m soft #i’m not sure what this is but i hope y’all like it #ww84

[silenceofcreation]

World

Maharaj: Which world are you enquiring about?

Q: The world of my perceptions, of course.

M: The world you can perceive is a very small world indeed. And it is entirely private. Take it to be a dream and be done with it.

Q: How can I take it to be a dream? A dream does not last.

M: How long will your own world last?

Q: After all, my little world is but a part of the total.

M: Is not the idea of a total world a part of your personal world? The universe does not come to tell you that you are a part of it. It is you who have invented a totality to contain you as a part. In fact all you know is your own private world, however well you have furnished it with your imaginations and expectations.

*

M: You are confused, because you believe that you are in the world, not the world in you. Who came first -- you or your parents? You imagine that you were born at a certain time and place, that you have a father and a mother, a body and a name. This is your sin and your calamity!

*

M: Within the prison of your world appears a man who tells you that the world of painful contradictions, which you have created, is neither continuous nor permanent and is based on a misapprehension. He pleads with you to get out of it, by the same way by which you got into it. You got into it by forgetting what you are and you will get out of it by knowing yourself as you are.

*

Q: Again, you deny the world. There is no bridge between us.

M: There is no need of a bridge. Your mistake lies in your belief that you are born. You were never born nor will you ever die, but you believe that you were born at a certain date and place and that a particular body is your own.

*

The world is the abode of desires and fears. You cannot find peace in it. For peace you must go beyond the world. The root- cause of the world is self-love. Because of it we seek pleasure and avoid pain.

*

Q: But past and future exist?

M: In the mind only. Time is in the mind, space is in the mind.

*

Q: Is there no salvation for the world?

M: Which world do you want to save? The world of your own projection? Save it yourself. My world? Show me my world and I shall deal with it. I am not aware of any world separate from myself, which I am free to save or not to save. What business have you with saving the world, when all the world needs is to be saved from you? Get out of the picture and see whether there is anything left to save.

*

M: My actual experience is not different. It is my evaluation and attitude that differ. I see the same world as you do, but not the same way. There is nothing mysterious about it. Everybody sees the world through the idea he has of himself. As you think yourself to be, so you think the world to be. If you imagine yourself as separate from the world, the world will appear as separate from you and you will experience desire and fear. I do not see the world as separate from me and so there is nothing for me to desire, or fear.

*

Q: So many saints and mystics lived and died. They did not change my world.

M: How could they? Your world is not theirs, nor is their yours.

Q: Surely there is a factual world common to all.

M: The world of things, of energy and matter? Even if there were such a common world of things and forces, it is not the world in which we live. Ours is a world of feelings and ideas, of attractions and repulsions, of scales of values, of motives and incentives, a mental world altogether.

*

To be free in the world, you must die to the world.

*

Your weakness is due to your conviction that you were born into the world. In reality the world is ever recreated in you and by you.

*

Q: How can it be? A child is born into the world, not the world into the child. The world is old and the child is new.

M: The child is born into your world. Now, were you born into your world, or did your world appear to you? To be born means to create a world round yourself as the centre. But do you ever create yourself? Or did anyone create you? Everyone creates a world for himself and lives in it, imprisoned by one's ignorance. All we have to do is to deny reality to our prison.

*

There is only one mistake you are making: you take the inner for the outer and the outer for the inner. What is in you, you take to be outside you and what is outside, you take to be in you. The mind and feelings are external, but you take them to be intimate. You believe the world to be objective, while it is entirely a projection of your psyche.

*

M: Of course. Once you accept time and space as real, you will consider yourself minute and short- lived. But are they real? Do they depend on you, or you on them? As body, you are in space. As mind, you are in time. But are you mere body with a mind in it? Have you ever investigated?

*

M: Of course we live in one world. Only I see it as it is, while you don't. You see yourself in the world, while I see the world in myself. To you, you get born and die, while to me, the world appears and disappears. Our world is real, but your view of it is not. There is no wall between us, except the one built by you. There is nothing wrong with the senses, it is your imagination that misleads you. It covers up the world as it is, with what you imagine it to be -- something existing independently of you and yet closely following your inherited, or acquired patterns. There is a deep contradiction in your attitude, which you do not see and which is the cause of sorrow. You cling to the idea that you were born into a world of pain and sorrow; I know that the world is a child of love, having its beginning, growth and fulfilment in love. But I am beyond love even.

Q: If you have created the world out of love, why is it so full of pain?

M: You are right -- from the body's point of view. But you are not the body. You are the immensity and infinity of consciousness. Don't assume what is not true and you will see things as I see them. Pain and pleasure, good and bad, right and wrong: these are relative terms and must not be taken absolutely. They are limited and temporary.

*

M: Yes, when the mind is eager for reality, it gives attention. There is nothing wrong with your world, it is your thinking yourself to be separate from it that creates disorder. Selfishness is the source of all evil.

*

Only the people who have gone beyond the world can change the world. It never happened otherwise. The few whose impact was long lasting were all knowers of reality. Reach their level and then only talk of helping the world.

*

M: The very desire to live is the. messenger of death, as the longing to be happy is the outline of sorrow. The world is an ocean of pain and fear, of anxiety and despair. Pleasures are like the fishes, few and swift, rarely come, quickly gone. A man of low intelligence believes, against all evidence, that he is an exception and that the world owes him happiness. But the world cannot give what it does not have; unreal to the core, it is of no use for real happiness. It cannot be otherwise. We seek the real because we are unhappy with the unreal. Happiness is our real nature and we shall never rest until we find it. But rarely we know where to seek it.

*

M: The world does not yield to changing. By its very nature it is painful and transient. See it as it is and divest yourself of all desire and fear. When the world does not hold and bind you, it becomes an abode of joy and beauty. You can be happy in the world only when you are free of it.

*

The world appears to you so overwhelmingly real, because you think of it all the time; cease thinking of it and it will dissolve into thin mist. You need not forget; when desire and fear end, bondage also ends. It is the emotional involvement, the pattern of likes and dislikes which we call character and temperament, that create the bondage.

Q: Without desire and fear what motive is there for action?

M: None, unless you consider love of life, of righteousness, of beauty, motive enough. Do not be afraid of freedom from desire and fear. It enables you to live a life so different from all you know, so much more intense and interesting, that, truly, by losing all you gain all.

~ Nisargadatta Maharajah ~

[ladyaryawolf]

Why Jonsa does not work in the books.

This post is where starts the conflict. Jonsa thoughs. My toughts.

What makes a lot o people ship Jon x Sansa is because of the show, and I can understand it. Ship what you want. It's your right.

It does not mean that people can lie about what happens in the books, or what is cannon by GrrM himself.

D&D gave part of Arya's history and traits to Sansa in the show. Fact.

Jeyne Poole was using Arya's name. She was the one that was abused by Ramsay Balton. This false Arya was the one that the North went into a War, and the one that made Jon Snow break his vows. It was not Sansa who Jon fought and died for.

Ship what you want. You are free to ship. Making paralelles about Cat and Ned with Jonsa. Okay. I am a Jonrya shipper. I make parallels of Jonrya and Lyanna/Rhaegar and Alyssane/Jaehaerys. We are passionate shippers after all, in a fandom where morality is not a big deal the most part of time. You have a mean to make your point, then use it.

But whatever. GrrM said that the show and the books are like different universes. Words of the author. You can't discuss that.

What I can NOT take is people lying about canonic things, and my mind explodes when I read a lot of lies of the books to justify Jonsa.

Like Sansa is Jon's type. Like Jon remembers of Sansa when he met Ygritte. Like Jon and Sansa were always close. Lies!

He compares Ygritte to Arya, tought he addmit they don't even look alike, he never, never tought about Sansa while with Ygritte. He compares Val to Arya.

"They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her." (Jon, A Game of Thrones).

"And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him." (Jon, A Game of Thrones)

"The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north." (Jon, A Game of Thrones) 

"Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

"Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

“I have no sister.” The words were knives.

"The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart." (Jon, A Dance with Dragon)

"What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? "(Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

The Ygritte comparation:

“Jon could see fear and fire in her eyes. Blood ran down her white throat from where the point of his dirk had pricked her. One thrust and it’s done, he told himself. He was so close he could smell onion on her breath. She is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. “Will you yield?” he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn’t?” - Jon VI, ACoK 

“Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he’d thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya.” - Jon VI, ACoK

“Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a “spearwife” when they’d captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn’t wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but “spearwife” fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore.” - Jon II, ASoS

“If you kill a man, and never mean t’, he’s just as dead,” Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever?” - Jon III, ASoS

When he received the letter of Ramsay

"Jon saw no reason not to tell him. “Moat Cailin is taken. The flayed corpses of the ironmen have been nailed to posts along the kingsroad. Roose Bolton summons all leal lords to Barrowton, to affirm their loyalty to the Iron Throne and celebrate his son’s wedding to…” His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father."

"Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him."

"His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily." (Jon, a Dance with Dragons).

"Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons).

• In books the quote “Love is the death of duty” by Maester Aemon is used when Jon decidesld break his vows from nights watch to save “Arya”. Arya is the character Jon loves the most and he thinks on her in every moment.

He dies thinking about Arya:

"Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whitspered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…" (Jon, A Dance with Dragons).

George's Interviews:

“At some points, when [Game of Thrones showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss] and I had discussions about what way we should go in, I would always favor sticking with the books, while they would favor making changes,” he said. “I think one of the biggest ones would probably be when they made the decision not to bring Catelyn Stark back as Lady Stoneheart. That was probably the first major diversion of the show from the books and, you know, I argued against that, and David and Dan made that decision.” - Time Magazine, 2017

“You have to remember that I started writing this story in 1991 and I first met David and Dan in 2007. I was living with these characters and this world for 16 years before we even started working on the show. They’re pretty fixed in my mind and I’m not going to change anything because of the show, or reaction to the show, or what fans think. I’m just still writing the story that I set out to write in the early 1990s.” - Time Magazine, 2017

My conclusion:

Like I said before. You are free to ship everyone, but not lie about Canon things written by George RR Mantin himself. This is the canonic verse. Jon and Samsa rarely think of each other. Sansa was always distant from him, she regreats it later, but still is a fact. I am not an anti-Sansa. She is not my favorite, i addmit, but anti, for me, is somente idiot that says stupid arguements with insults just to put another character in glory, only because they dislike another, and even refuse to aguement as adults. In another words, those antis are childsh.

There is a lot of people saying that Jon would be good for Sansa and take him out of her is something cruel, as everything that is good for her is fanservice. We agree in disagree. There is no way we could try taking Jon from Sansa, if he was not hers in first place. Like I said, they rarely think of each other, she bullied him when they lived together, she kept distance following Cat's personal opinion. Sansa's fault? No. She was a child seeing her mother's opinions, and following it. It does not change what she have done. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that Jon hates her, but the memories he shares with Sansa during his childhood are not the best. It doesn't mean they won't get along. They will! Of course they will, by all they could know, they would be the lasts of the Starks alive. Sansa might go to Winterfell in TWoW before Arya. Would they get closer? Probably. Will they share the same bond showned on TV show? No. This is bad for her? No. She would be home, with her family. This is bad to you? Sounds terrible? Does it sounds harsh?

Like, other thing that I hate about Jonsa-stans (just a part of them) justifies that she needs someone to make her happy. With all respect, if you think this way about Sansa, you do not like her. Not really. Sansa is much more complex of a character to say that only a romantic relationship with a man could make her happy. She does not need someone else in a romantic way to make her happy. She passed through a hell in King's Landing, and Petyr actions with her can be described only as disgusting. To say the only good thing that could happen to her is a man, you are reducing her character to a simple one. Everything she wants it's to go home. She is smart, kind and clever. Sansa is making Petyr Baelish play in her hands. I don't want Sansa to end up alone. She deserves a lot. She is really strong, in so many ways. Her strengh is not like Arya, Ygritte or Val. It's subtle and delicate, like Margaery in someway. Sansa deserves a man who respects her, a man who loves her with all his heart, a man that carries for her the same way Jon carries for Arya. Uconditionally.

Other thing that I hear is that Jonsa stans always says that, we, Arya-stans, look to Jonsa as threat to Arya, and we all get mad about it. I can't talk in the name of the others. For me, fuck the show. I don't care. I don't even look at the show as part of GrrM work anymore. But what gets me mad as an Arya stan, and a Jonrya shipper is not Jonsa itself. They had chemistry on screen, but in the books they don't have any of it. This is what gets me mad.

It's trying to stole something that belongs to Jon and Arya alone that gets me mad. One of the strongest and purest bonds I have ever seen in books or screen. It doesn't belong to Sansa all this devotion. It's not canon in the books, and annoys me to see tons of people lying and self inserting Sansa in Jon's heart just because they want the books to happen the same way in the show. Forget it. It's not going to happen. A lot of other characters and relationships have been destroyed by D&D, not only Jon & Arya. Write and read fanfics. Ship whatever the hell you want, but don't lie about cononic things. If Jon and Arya get along as a romantic couple or not, does not change that this bond is theirs. Sansa has her own history in the books. Her own importance. She wil be part to take Winterfell back, not the same way she did on the show, but she will be a big part of it. And she is a Stark! The end! Sansa is a southern lady in many ways, but she is Sansa Stark and a princess by her own right, dammit! She says it herself that her strengh comes from the walls within Winterfell!

Thank you to read. I have to be greatful to another posts that helped me to write it. I have to say sorry about my grammar. English is not my first language, but I hope what I wrote was clear to understand. See you soon.

#arya stark #jon snow #sansa stark #book!arya #book!jon #book!sansa #books #asoiaf #agot #acok #affc #adwd #twow #anti-D&D #anti-GoT #anti-Jonsa #but not anti-Sansa #jonrya #pro jonrya #romantic or platonic #it's your interpretation #arya x jon #jon x arya #ygritte #because i talk about her #siblings #only in the show #meta #jonrya week 2020

[theprojectava]

The Silent War

Sooo...remember the last post s8 fix-it post I made? I wrote a little something for it (I’ll upload it on ao3, too, but I still have to make an account there).

It’s not beta read and I suck at writing stuff in English since it’s not my mother tongue. Please bear with me. :)

(Fic’s under the cut)

Our room is dark, the blinds are shut tight

And everything is still too much outside

When he left it hurt like hell. It felt like Shiro had finally run out of time. He should've said something sooner.

There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week, after this mission,when this meeting's over, promise, I'll tell him then!

The war had finally, officially ended. But not for them. The universe was in disarray – all the Galra Empire had left in its wake were ruins and ashes of whole worlds burnt to nothing. The war had never stopped and so their duties as Paladins and diplomats of planet Earth continued to tear them apart. Silently. For no one to see. Not even Shiro.

He only felt the sensation of something finally ripping, when it was too late. Keith was gone. By the time they noticed, he was already on the other end of the known universe, fighting off war criminals and rebuilding what was left of civilizations that had taken the brunt of the Empire's wrath over thousands of years. Somebody had to do it, Shiro told himself again and again. And of course it had to be Keith. This was what he was born for. The stars. If he was completely honest with himself he had always known that the younger man was never meant to stay on the ground with both his feet. The moment he had seen him so many years ago, he had known. Keith was meant to fly and reach for the stars or go crashing down with them.

But it still hurt so much. Because in spite of knowing that this day would come, he still wasn't prepared to let him go. He wasn't prepared to lose the man that meant everything to him.

Maybe it had taken him too long to realize what Keith really meant to him. That he couldn't live without him by his side. There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week... The possibility that there would be a tomorrow without Keith by his side seemed so impossible after all they went through. But maybe that's what went wrong in the end. Shiro had taken Keith for granted – a constant in his life that would always be there, no matter what. And now it was too late.

It may be over but not tonight

I may be older but I still cry

I can't stop sleeping in your clothes

You can't stop calling on the phone

Keith never reacted to any of his text messages. Whether it was because he was busy... or for a whole different reason Shiro didn't even want to think of, he didn't know. Silence was all there was between them now. With every unanswered message the hurt sunk deeper into his heart. It festered there and turned into bitterness with every passing month. He felt hollow inside. As Admiral and part of the Terran Delegation there was quite enough work on his hands to keep him busy for most of the day. But every time he'd come back home to a dark apartment and cold sheets he felt like sinking deeper into an all consuming emptiness. He should've given up trying to contact Keith by now. He knew that. In fact he should've stopped thinking about the other man every waking hour. The only problem was... he didn't know how. It was all he'd ever done.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I'm holding on, I know I'm almost there

Storm reach out and tell me that you care

It stung like a knife to the chest when he found out that he seemed to be the only one who hadn't heard of Keith for almost a year. He'd met up with Pidge at one point, visited Lance and Allura on New Altea merely two months ago. He'd even made it to congratulate Hunk on his family's new house in person... The only one who hadn't seen him ever since he left... was Shiro.

Later he'd wonder if that had been the last straw. If that was what finally broke him. When he found out Keith was back on earth for a few days without telling him, he snapped. He packed all his stuff and left his office like a raging storm. He knew he shouldn't corner Keith like that. He knew deep down, that it was wrong. Patience yields focus, remember? But he didn't care for one second. His whole body felt numb, yet at the same time so full of cold anger. He needed answers. Nobody stopped him when he mounted one of the hoverbikes and sped off into the desert. He knew exactly where to find Keith.

When he reached the shack he knew Keith was there, even before he saw the younger man's pale face in the door frame. He was hurting them. Both of them and Shiro knew. But there was no turning back from this conversation now. There was no way this could go on for any longer. Shiro already felt like crumbling to pieces, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. At this point he really believed that he couldn't hurt much more. He'd been through torture and war. He'd survived the pits. He'd survived experimentation and losing his arm. He died and came back... But there was no way he could withstand this.

The moment they started talking Shiro could already tell Keith was closing in on himself, building up walls even he couldn't tear down anymore. The telltale twitching of his hands, the way his shoulders hunched... Keith was unreadable to most people. Anyone else would've thought of him as indifferent to what was going on. Shiro, on the other hand, knew what to look for. He could read Keith like a book. And that's where the fighting began.

Being shut out felt like a slap in the face. It burnt right down to his very core.

“It's better this way”, Keith told him. “I'm sorry...”

They screamed at each other. They cried. Two thrashing animals caught in a trap, neither of them ready to go down. Ultimately, it was all in vain. Keith had made his decision, for reasons unknown. He'd take this secret to the grave if he had to. Shiro would never know what drove the former Red Paladin away from him. But his choice was final.

Tears burnt in his eyes, when he turned to leave. He never wanted to do this... But the words bubbled up unbidden, nonetheless.

“Fine... If that's what you want. I won't stop you”, he looked back at Keith and saw the exact moment the words registered and hit home. “But don't expect me to be there when you decide to come back one day.”

That day he had hurt Keith in a way, he'd never forgive himself for. There was no going back from this. The damage had been done. He left without looking back, not expecting Keith to reach out and keep him from leaving. He never did, anyway.

I'm finally sober, I see the light

The worst is over, nobody died

I'm still trying to let you go

Oh baby, please, leave me alone

A brand new war began. One that Shiro wasn't sure he'd survive – a silent war. No one else could see it, but they could feel it. There was tension wherever Shiro went, hanging in the air around him like thick rain clouds. None of his friends dared saying anything – they all knew. They had to know. Because Keith never showed up to any of their anniversaries on New Altea, again. It was a silent war and this... this was Keith's way of opening fire. Shiro embraced it. Swallowed it. And then cried it out into the darkness of his empty bedroom, when no one else would hear.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I know you wanna say you're sorry

But I don't wanna hear that story

Days bled into weeks, weeks bled into months. His heartache wouldn't fade. Shiro's chest had become an open wound refusing to heal. When was the last time he had laughed? He didn't know. All he did these days was work himself into the ground, working overtime for hours on end until he was either too tired to think or fell asleep in his office. That was until he fainted during a meeting. There's only so much sleep deprivation a human-Galra-hybrid clone body can endure.

When he came to himself again there was a man hovering over him. He remembered him from the Atlas. One of the bridge staff. What was his name again? Carl? Curtis? Curtis.

“Are you alright, Sir?”, he asked.

It's weird... how things change so fast.

Turned out Curtis was what Shiro needed. For the moment. Talking to him was easy... kissing him was easier. Easy was good for now.

They moved in together after dating for a few months. Shiro proposed after another two or three. Of course Curtis said yes. Everything was easy with him. So why did Shiro feel like he was drowning? Sending the invitations to their wedding earned him a few rounds of interrogation from his friends, especially Allura and Pidge. They'd picked up on what had occurred between him and Keith – mainly because Keith had quite regular meetings with Allura and Lance on New Altea, since he became a senior member of the Blades... At least that's what Shiro heard. Both of them knew how much Shiro was hurting, but all they could do was give him sympathetic glances. They knew why Keith did what he did. That maybe protecting his own poor heart from potential hurt was what led to them silently tearing each other apart. It hurt to watch.

Of course they sent an invitation to Daibazaal, too. Since none of them knew Keith's current location, they'd chosen to send it to Krolia instead, knowing Keith would get it, sooner or later. That was Shiro's counterblow in this cold war between them.

Always thought you'd be the one

Who always needed me

My home, you'd be my home

After the wedding, the silence only grew. As did the emptiness in Shiro's life. His marriage lasted for a whole 2 years. The time it took them to get divorced included. There were no “I told you so”s from his friends – only support and a lot of hugs. Shiro didn't know what was worse. Because he himself had known this relationship was meant to crash and burn the moment he had proposed. Maybe before.

He felt terrible. Throwing his own heart in the line of fire because he couldn't let go of someone who clearly didn't want him was one thing... Pulling Curtis into this and putting his heart on the line as well, was a whole different thing. Has he always been such a terrible human being? Could this be the reason why Keith left? Because he'd seen how Shiro hurts the people around him on purpose? There was no way of knowing now. Keith was long gone... and yet, he was still everything Shiro ever knew.

Suddenly, your memory

In time is like an enemy, so cold

Five years. It had been five years since the last time they saw each other. Back in Keith's shack. Shiro's last words still rang in his ears, loud and clear. It had taken him a year or so, until he realized he'd used the same words Adam had thrown at him, before he'd left for the Kerberos mission. It felt like a lifetime ago. Another thing in a long line of things he regretted voicing or not voicing in front of Keith. It seemed like he never told Keith the most important things. But if he did tell him anything, only the wrong things came out. Things he never wanted anyone to hear. Unfair things.

The universe, as Shiro had known it, was in shambles.

A soft ping was all it took to tilt the universe back into the right direction. It was 3:00 am. An unusual time to get notifications nowadays. Shiro had stepped back from a few positions in the past year, slowly letting others take the reins. It was time for him to go back and teach at the Garrison... Or maybe... Maybe one day he'd see the stars again. He could hear them calling already.

Another ping and he was fully awake. With half lidded eyes a grabbed his phone. The bright orange light was nearly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom. He took one look at the display and nearly dropped the device into his own face. Wha-... Was he dreaming?!

There were two messages glaring back at him, taunting him. This had to be a dream. It had to.

Keith (03:02):

Dear Shiro.... I know I fucked up royally. Fuck, I'm not good at this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's been a while..... But can we maybe talk?

Keith (03:03):

I understand if you don't want to. I'll leave you alone if you don't want to see me. But I... I can't do this any longer.

Shiro's heartbeat was deafening. Blood rushed in his ears. He had to pinch himself to make sure this wasn't another cruel dream.

This was happening. This was really happening. It had been five years. Five years of silence.

His fingers moved before he could even register what was happening and pressed “send”.

Shiro (03:05):

Don't be. We both did a lot of fucking up. We can talk whenever you want.

It took about ten minutes and Shiro was ready to dose off again, when his phone went off. It wasn't a text message this time. But a video call.

“Hey.”

A single word. It only took a single word... His voice was tinny and rougher than he remembered. His hair had gotten longer. Long enough to be braided actually. There was an edge to his face that hadn't been there when Shiro last saw him. But it was Keith. Sweet, beautiful Keith.

“Hey”, Shiro replied, his voice raspy and thick with emotions.

They talked. They actually talked. At 3:00 am. Not about what happened between them, not about the reason why Keith left, not about Shiro's marriage or divorce. But they talked about small things, like Keith's latest mission or that annoying woman from the canteen who didn't get the message Shiro was into men. But who could blame her? Ever since Curtis Shiro had never tried dating again.

When they finally hung up it was with the promise of meeting up when Keith got back to earth next month. It was almost 5:00 am. Neither him nor Keith had said it out loud, but it hung between them, so thick it was almost palpable.

“I miss you.”

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Meeting Keith after all this time was like finally, finally putting the shards of his universe back together. Like finally laying their weapons down and calling off the war they had started on that fateful day in the shack.

It was awkward at first... until it wasn't.

One touch, a simple hand on a shoulder kind of touch, was all it took to open the gates to a flood. There were tears. Lots of tears. Tears of joy and sorrow, of forgiveness and apology. Years worth of silence were shattered by a flood of words. Once they started they couldn't stop. Hugging each other and holding on tight, never wanting to let go ever again.

“I'm so sorry”, whispered Keith in between ugly sobs. “I'm so, so sorry. I thought-... I thought-”

“Shhh”, Shiro tried to calm him, tightening his hold on Keith. But the younger man wasn't having it.

“No-... No, you have to hear this.”

He leaned back a little until he could look into Shiro's eyes. His eyes were red and still full of unshed tears.

“I'm sorry I ran”, Keith tried again. This time his voice was steadier. “I didn't know what to do. I thought... After the war you... You deserved better.”

“Better?”, Shiro frowned. “Better than what?”

“Me.”

At that moment it felt like Shiro's heart would burst out of his chest.

Before he could say anything Keith continued: “I... I thought after all you've been through, you deserved a life far away from war and fights and-... I knew I couldn't give you this.”

Another sob rocked Keith's lean body. He'd bulked up a little over the past few years, but he still felt so small and fragile in Shiro's arms.

“I never wanted to hurt you. But... I was afraid... Of hurting myself.”

There was a moment of silence. But a different kind of silence – a pleasant one. Finally, finally Shiro understood.

“You were trying to protect your heart”, he whispered.

Keith's eyes went wide for a second. But he nodded nonetheless. There was nothing left for him to lose. He'd lived five years without Shiro by his side... He'd been through hell already. All because he couldn't just tell Shiro how he felt.

“Well”, the corners of Shiro's mouth turned up into a soft smile. “there's no need to. Never was.”

Again Keith's eyes went wide, his brows rising almost comically high. Slowly, to give him enough time to pull back if that wasn't what he wanted, Shiro leaned down, until their lips were almost touching.

“I never told you this. I never found the right moment... and then you were gone”, with every word their lips brushed against each other. Keith closed his eyes. “Maybe I can tell you now.”

And with that he closed the distance between them.

Kissing Keith was everything he ever imagined it would be... and still so much more. The soft, warm feeling of his lips, the slow drag of his tongue against Shiro's bottom lip were intoxicating. He was done for. He knew that the moment he had to lean back and take a breath. He already missed the warmth of Keith's lips on his.

“I love you.”

The confession left his lips and he couldn't stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Tears filled the younger man's eyes again.

“I love you, too.”

For the first time in years it felt like there was a silver lining at the horizon.

They could to this. They could make this right. It had taken them five years, but finally, finally the universe seemed whole again.

The war of silence was finally over.

Song: “Recovery” by LP

#sheith #voltron #voltron legendary defender #shiro voltron #keith voltron #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #fix it fic #this is how i cope with the s8 ending #i suck at writing i'm sorry #vld #alternate ending #alternate universe #vld au #shiro loves you baby #i did a thing #gays in space #hell yes