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#we know he appreciates a good poem
rosieofcorona · 7 months
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poems for astarion ✨ snowdrops, louise glück/ fare well, john berryman/ asphodel, that greeny flower, william carlos williams/ a note on the body, danez smith/ a reading from the book of exile, pádraig ó tuama
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Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.
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He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.
It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.
With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”
He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”
“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”
He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.
“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”
“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”
“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”
‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”
“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”
Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”
They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”
“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”
He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.
“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”
They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”
He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.
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senpiecakes · 1 year
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Pussy Pleasers ____________________________________________________ Notes: I found this in my drafts and I was so surprised I had to finish it. Warnings and Themes: Smut. Pure Smut. NSFW. Fem!Reader. Some very tasteful words. Eating out. Mentions of semi-public intercourse (Albedo). Mentions of drugs (Kazuha). Body worship and praising. Featured: Thoma, Kazuha, Diluc, Itto, Albedo Next: Pussy Slayers Minors, Please Leave ____________________________________________________
Thoma
Always looking forward to servicing his beloved.
Whether to take the edge off or just to end the night good, Thoma’s always excited about going down on you. Sometimes you wonder if he likes it more than you do. He’s always eager to please just to see you fall asleep with a peace of mind and a happy smile.
Thoma loves everything about you; the way you taste, the way you sound, the way your hands hold his face when you finish and tell him how much you love him. His eyes are clouded with nothing but love when he sees you smile above him and tell him he did good.
He’d want you to ride his face, go on for hours till your legs go limp, and anything he’ll do, he’ll do for you. Just ask.
“Oh, my love. Did that feel good? You’re so beautiful.”
You insist on sucking Thoma off sometimes, but he’d rather prefer making you cum. He's more turned on with the fact that you’d feel great because of him. He lives for the way your back arches as he sucks your clit, your whines when he kisses your inner thigh.
Thoma’s a tease sometimes- slowing as he kisses down your abdomen, giving you a handful of praises before eating you out.
Thoma’s aftercare is also legendary. He’s a pleaser, we all know that, and to make you feel good and comfortable is the most rewarding thing he can ask for.
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Kazuha
Kazuha’s a languid lover; love poems, slow nights, slow sex. He wants to take his time and make sure he treats you nice and well.
You love when he does it high. He’s sloppy, messy, not caring where anything goes as long as you’re on his mouth. Even when he’s a giggly mess, cheeks red and hair unkempt, his grace in his movements never cease to amaze you.
He looks at you, eyes red and glazed over, but watching you barely contain yourself with the way he does it so slowly? The way he catches your grip on his bedsheets? When your thighs sandwich his face into your pussy? God, Kazuha can live in this moment forever. 
His hold on your thighs is light; occasionally running his hands up and down your sides. He praises you for being patient, asking if you could moan his name like that again if you have enough energy for a nice, slow fuck later.
‘My pretty girl, you’re so good to me.’
The last parts are his favorite. When he’s finally done with you, seeing you lazily smile to yourself, your legs on his shoulders still shaking after making you cum on his pretty lips- it was like heaven on earth. 
Kazuha would trail lazy kisses from your inner thigh to your abdomen, the middle of your chest and finally your lips. You didn’t even care where his mouth had been- the messiness of his kiss, the daze and high melting into one, Kazuha’s tongue still going at it in your mouth- you both could never get tired of this.
Of course, the nap after that is always the best too if you’re cuddled up in Kazuha’s arms.
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Diluc
He’s completely lost in the moment, brows furrowed and grip on your shaking thighs getting tighter. He wants to get carried away, pin you down until you cream all over his face, but he wants to do this for you. He’ll do that later on.
Diluc listens to every command you make even though he knows best how to make you feel good in ways you never even thought of. He takes pride in knowing what things make you squirm.
You’re bucking your hips upwards because he’s just that good, moaning his name loud enough to be heard in Mondstadt. Diluc doesn’t mind; he needs to let the world know you’re his.
He won’t stop until he appreciates the mess he turned you into. Where had the teasing from earlier gone? Where were your brave words from earlier, saying how you’ll make him into a shaking, begging mess. 
Wherever that may be, Diluc would never tease you for it- instead smiling to himself and steadying his pace to give you the most mind-blowing orgasm you could ever experience. 
“Cum for me, love. Let me take care of you.”
Diluc’s a gentleman. He’ll make sure you’re nice and ready before taking his cock and maybe let you rest a few minutes before continuing (that is if he won’t get pussydrunk). He'd massage your thighs and tell you that you did so well, placing loving kisses on your body.
After the greatest aftercare with his deep voice, a nice warm bath and a new change of sheets, Diluc would make sure you’ll have the best sleep of your life, so you’ll have energy for it again the next day.
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Itto
Itto is messy. Too excited and sometimes even too immature but God, is he good at making sure you finish.
He wants to make it known that you’re his. His hold on your hips and thighs would be tight enough to leave a mark, bites on your inner thighs are misplaced and random, all for him to admire and replace the next time he sees them fading.
Itto’s more vocal than you sometimes. Praising you like you’re a blessing carved by the gods themselves. It’s usually a mix of praises and low grunts but you love it anyways. You love the way his voice rumbles in your core.
He lives for the moment when you’d tug at his hair (and horns)- relishing each time you’d find your voice and tell him ‘good boy’. It gets him good when you praise him as much as he praises you.
He can barely focus with his hard-on- seeing you throw your head back in pleasure and moan his name like it’s the last time you’ll ever say it. That keeps him going. He needs to pleasure his pretty girl, right?
“Just like that, baby, tell me how you want it.”
Despite wanting to spoil you, Itto almost always wants to jerk himself off but hearing you moan and beg and praise him will always be enough to make him cum. Before you know it, he’s whimpering out your name, begging for you to make him cum.
He won’t, however. He’ll save his load for when he’s inside you later on.
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Albedo
In his lab in Dragonspine. Albedo likes privacy and likes to encourage you to moan as loud as you want. Nobody’s coming anyways (except you.)
Albedo loves taking you to his lab for two reasons: to show you his experiments and studies, to have a little ‘fun’. Sometimes just to de-stress after a failed study or to make you feel nice to make up for nights he’s deep in his research.
He loves watching you squirm above him while you’re pinned up against a wall. He kneels down, never breaking eye contact while he does it.
Albedo makes sure to go excruciatingly slow while licking your clit just to see that specific expression on your face. Try as you might to have him move more, Albedo would hold you still and tell you to settle down.
“Stop squirming Y/N and let me see that pretty face.”
You can barely feel the blistering cold with how hot these moments make you feel. Albedo’s warm tongue gliding up and down your folds, your skin burning and heart pumping with excitement.
Sometimes, Albedo hopes that someone would walk into you both, only for the fact that he can show them how much he can make you feel good.
He loves studying your features when he does this. Your body’s reactions to him, the expressions, the sounds you make- it was all so fascinating and so rewarding. Albedo makes sure to have you finish with the most mind-blowing sensation time and time again. It’s the least he could do for toying with you for that long.
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azullumi · 11 months
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“are we…” ; kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, & tartaglia
details — here on another agenda of listening to songs, reading the lyrics, realizes how it would sound so good on a fic, and boom! slapping it on a character i think would suit it; basically, songs and tropes as some genshin men
characters — alhaitham, ayato, kazuha, tartaglia (w/gender-neutral reader)
tags — a sprinkle of angst, some of them are out of character, nothing happy is going on (my life relates to it) ; headcanons/scenario
words — 1558
note — getting back to writing so sorry if this fic seems shitty, i’m trying to get my style back by reading the fics i wrote. also i’ll be mostly writing in lowercase now bcs i’m typing on my phone
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waiting ; unrequited love — kazuha (bags by clairo)
“can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”
kazuha settles on a boundary between you two, standing close behind it, afraid to take a step and cross. and though he was a man who had no fears and wouldn’t let anything hold him back from attaining what he wants, he was scared of going past the boundary as if he would be treading the path of misery once he chooses to do so.
there is always the urge to touch you, the desire to feel your skin underneath his fingertips and unbeknownst to him, his hand would act on its own—he would reach out, his fingers stopping close to your skin before immediately taking his hand back once the realization of his actions had sunk inside his head: “what is it?” you have asked him upon noticing his actions and he could only shake his head before saying, “there’s something on your hair.”
he has this strong sense of denial whenever he does something for you or says something to you, reasoning the flowers that he gives from time to time as an act of friendship and appreciation or the poetry that he creates with you in mindbut he keeps hidden was just because you were too beautiful to not have your being expressed in words and written in poems—
—and every single day, in each morning that he wakes up, he strongly believes that his feelings for you had already dissipated into thin air as if it never existed in the place but only to see your stupid smile and mesmerizing eyes and having himself fall in love again. oh, the amount of times he convinces and tells himself that he’ll avoid you from then on only to have himself basking in your presence later on: “this is the last time,” he tells himself.
there are only two states he would end up in if he decides to go further the line, without you and with you, and he wasn’t stupid to not know that he’ll only have the former happen to him.
he would rather have you close to him and yearn for you despite being so near than the heartbreak and admiring you afar.
“it’s not like you’re in love with me or anything, right?”
toxic ; unhealthy relationships — alhaitham (cry by cigarettes after sex)
“saying you’d wait for me to stay, i know it hurts you.”
you don’t have a toxic relationship with alhaitham nor did you have a healthy one but instead it was miserable, simply one-sided. however, it wasn’t like that at first, he wasn’t like this at first when you two would decide to start over again and create a fresh new page of your love story only for it to end in the same way.
he was good, was great, was wonderful—was. you don’t even know how it got to this point. how did the gentle and sweet murmurs of love and compliments turn to endless shouting and fights at every chance you two get? alhaitham, despite already having raised his voice at you on several occasions, had never raised his hand at you but nevertheless, it doesn’t make anything less hurtful.
“let’s just stop this, i’m tired,” it was clear, it was obvious that the only solution for this wretchedness was to simply just stop and end everything, to cut yourself off him but it doesn’t seem to happen. alhaitham, who possesses such great knowledge and intelligence to know the answer to nearly every problem, never seems to understand that. moments of begging, of asking for forgiveness, for a chance that you always give him, that you always provide him outright, seemingly served and topped with the syrup of your tears and blood.
he only loves you when he’s about to lose you, you know that. you weren’t blind but perhaps you were dumb with that but he loves you then, right? if he really does love you at those moments, then perhaps he did love you right from the start and he just never realized it—it was an endless cycle of gaslighting and making a fool of yourself, finding the reason and making logic out of his actions and words.
it was hard to lose him, you were too used to his presence always guiding you, helping you, and encouraging you that the moment you lost him, you just never seemed to know anything—like a child that was just taken out of the womb, you knew nothing, even yourself. it was a clear fact that you were nothing without him and without you, he was nothing.
“what happened to us, alhaitham?”
convenience ; arranged marriage w/ one-sided feelings — ayato (you’re losing me by taylor swift)
“i wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser.”
it was a marriage of convenience—oh, how you hated the word itself. it feels like a painful slap on your face whenever you hear it being used along with the word marriage, one that would leave a burning mark on your skin.
ayato tried to be a good husband, he tried, really. even when he would come home late, he would always have something to give you. despite not having that many conversations and seldomly seeing each other outside the dining room and bedroom, he would still treat you rather kindly and gently, even when you spend most of your nights alone in a bed that was too large for one, you never felt lonely (perhaps you do, you just don’t want to face it because then you’ll realize that your good husband wasn’t good at all); “i apologize, my dear. here, i bought you something on the way back.”
perhaps all of those acts of kindness and sweetness are his way of saying sorry but what’s there to say sorry for even? was it because he failed to arrive for dinner every time or was it just the whole marriage experience overall?
everything was built on convenience, the only time you two would talk to each other is when it’s needed and the conversation you two will have would end rather shortly and the only time he would touch you in a way that makes you feel loved and cherish—making love—is when it’s convenient for him; you were just never a priority, not anything of importance in his life.
what hurts even more is that ayato isn’t even doing any of this because of a boundary that you two had made but rather there was really nothing in between you two, nothing, not even a speck of dust could be found in the distance you two had.
ayato wasn’t even in a state of turmoil, he wasn’t in a position wherein he had to choose something, to sacrifice, to risk something, it’s just that you were there—you were convenient and not because he chose to choose you over anything else. you were easy to woo, easy to hold, easy to fool.
did he really lose you when he never even wanted you to be his in the first place?
“isn’t this convenient for the both of us?”
pleasure ; one-night stand turned to friends w/ benefits— childe/tartaglia (k. by cigarettes after sex)
“we had made love earlier that day with no strings attached, but i could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then.”
it was simply a relationship that was born out of pleasure; created with the foundation of desire, lust, and need. formed in a single night to escape the reality of the misery of your own lives and consistently being nurtured like a seed that was dropped into the soil and naturally taken care of by the rain and sun—it all seemed natural, him inviting you out for dinner, enjoying your time with his stupid jokes and flirty remarks that is luring you to another night of passion just to wake up with a note and a cold bed the next morning.
and there are times you wish to disappear from his life, to stop whatever you two have, and simply just release yourself from his grasp and though he also wishes for the same, childe always holds onto you so tightly as if he never wants you to leave, as if he always want you to stay even if he knows that he’s hurting you, even if you’re just hurting each other; somewhere deep inside his bones, in the crevices of his mind, he doesn’t wish to see you with someone else other than him despite the fact that he wants you to be happy; “stay with me,” he had told you as he kissed and held you.
but childe was a romantic, he always shower you praised in and out of the bed, he was sweet to you; a gentleman with his words and actions. he was lovely, so breathtaking, so poisonous and it wasn’t hard to love him. and he was well-aware of how your gaze seems to linger at him, how there’s something swirling and drowning in the depths of your eyes, and he was well-aware of what it was. and yet, he chooses to ignore it—was it for the good of himself? for you? either way, he can’t have himself falling.
had you known that night with him would end up in this way, you wouldn’t have taken his rough yet gentle hand on that night.
“what’s there for me to stay for?”
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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atom-writings · 1 year
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Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D
Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.
Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏‼️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑
(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!
(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)
Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!
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Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad
But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.
“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”
It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.
Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.
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Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…
But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.
He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.
He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.
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No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.
“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”
He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.
He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.
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Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.
He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.
If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.
He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3
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Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?
The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.
Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…
But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 
Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.
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i23kazu · 2 years
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I LOVE YOU STILL (oh, you know i always will.)
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warnings – none. characters – zhongli, xiao, ayato, kazuha, childe, kaeya, diluc x gn!reader. genre – romantic fluff. a/n – aaaaa. aaa | please reblog!! it rly helps a starter blog like me ><
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[zhongli. | 钟离]
zhongli enjoys seeing your face light up with the gifts he purchased. being a regular customer with connections ensures that this man gets your gifts at a discounted price. small trinkets get passed to you regularly, be it from a present at your desk or even asking venti to use the wind to shift the gift towards you, just to hear your chuckle. some things he loves giving you include our favourite tea flavour – often imported; sweets, and that particular set of stationery you love that is from inazuma. being a distant friend of a certain electro archon yields its benefits.
[xiao. | 魈]
xiao shows his love to you in the smallest of ways; whether you see it or not, that's up to you. he's not one to show big gestures – he'd rather smaller ones that you continually appreciate him for. he gently plucks the pretty flowers from the soil that passed through his master's hands eons ago, smiling as he ties them together with scraps of twine that he found in verr goldet's desk. it makes a good gift, he thinks. he likes seeing your face light up as you look at the wrapped bundle of flowers on your tableside. and the kisses that follow after.
[k. ayato. | 神里綾人]
ayato loves being sneaky – he presses kisses to your cheek when he sees you deep in thought, or lays his head on your shoulder while you're working on something for the yashiro commission, or even poking your cheek when talking to his sister. ayato loves cuddling up to you in the morning as well, in secret – where no one can see this particularly soft side of the kamisato clan's head. he loves surprising you with these small acts of affection and he loves seeing the smile on your face as you recognise your lover.
[k. kazuha | 楓原万葉]
kazuha likes creating poems and songs for you – you're his muse. he weaves his words and breathes his creations to life, watching your eyes light up in recognition of the little things the two of you do, enchanted to a melody. every line is crafted to pertain to a quirk of yours, his words always beautifully strung to portray you as the most beautiful person in teyvat – because that's what you are, in his own eyes. he loves you so very much and isn't afraid to show it to anyone he meets.
[childe.]
childe loves waking up next to you in the morning, your face usually buried in the crook of his neck. it guarantees him kinks in the neck for the next day, but he doesn't mind – as long as you're comfortable, he says. he loves snuggling you for the first few hours minutes of the day, watching your sleep-drowsed face slowly start to wake up in the presence of your lover. he can see the joy in your movements as you reach your arm out to touch his. he whispers "i love you" over and over again.
[kaeya.]
kaeya enjoys going big for dates – he likes setting up that big picnic blanket jean got for him when she first heard about your relationship. he loves to dig out that rattan picnic basket gifted to you from lisa – he assumes that the congratulatory gift is a joint effort from the two women. drinks, dishes, candy, fruit, and such fill the basket, a plethora of wonderful-smelling things making his eyes gleam with excitement at the reminder that he'd be spending an entire wonderful day with you.
[diluc.]
diluc particularly loves cooking and crafting drinks for you. he loves sprinkling his food with salt love and seeing your hand reach for the food he lovingly made for you. the man is a good cook – his tastebuds consist of dishes from all over teyvat, so exotic dishes typically have a place at the dining table. he has a special reverence for liyuean food, and would try his best to recreate the chihu-rock-famous (oh, who are we kidding. he's known all over teyvat!) chef's creations. you love his food, and he's always happy to cook for you.
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princessbiteme0o0 · 2 months
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Um this is like my first time asking but I have an idea which I really like so here I am asking!
So basically Ted is in theatre school with you and he your in the same class and you were paired up to do a scene of Romeo and Juliet. And there was a kissing scene you had to do.
In the evening Ted and you do into the theatre empty to practice the scene and you were really scared to do the kiss and he helps you out and then it slowly from a kiss gets more passionate and deep then… you two ended up doing the dirty in the theatre.
but during sex, he becomes more dominant and degrading like “imagine you took me like this infront of the class next week? You would look like a total whore.”
AHHH I HOPE ITS OK! and if you do it then I will give more ideas defo 💗
I adore you (and everyone that asks), having said that- this is BY FAR my favorite one 😭 Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers, along with Poe.
Thank you, Nonny and thank all of you that enjoy my writing!! It genuinely makes me SO HAPPY to see people enjoying and appreciating my writing.
Mainly for my home girl- @writingduhh 🩵🩵🩵
Having said all of that…
FIRST OF ALL- I don’t think Ted has a kinky bone in his body; I think he’s a cute lil vanilla baby, but fuck it we ball. MINORS DNI. I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT.
Warnings: smut, slight bullying, degradation, praise, sexual tension, arguments, (kinda enemies to lovers), slapping (not abusive- purely sexual), choking, spit kink, spanking?, fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, unspoken daddy kink?, melodramatics, ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’ used (don’t judge me) but no pet play, As always, let me know if I need to add more 🩵
Shakespeare in Love (Teddy Nivison x Reader)
—🩵—🩵—
She thought she was far over having to work with him on this play. She thought it would be a simple one and done; that maybe he’d have a simple two or three liner part. However, the moment she read the names next to each character, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. There it had been, in big, bold letters:
Tybalt- Kyle Jean
Capulet- Chris River
Juliet- (Y/N Y/L/N)
Romeo- Ted Nivison
She still remembers the anger that she felt at him for even auditioning, the rage directed at the casting director, the dread she felt at knowledge of the script; but like any good actress, she played it off.
So now, she sat on stage, reading over the script while waiting for mister always late. Had it have been better (and easier) circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the door to the auditorium swinging open. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze, smirk and all. She felt a heated anger drop to the pit of her stomach, but that smirk caused a different kind of warmth to drop between her thighs. Rolling her eyes where she knew he could see, she stood to her feet while looking over the script once more.
She was a tall woman, she knew that, but he was so much taller. His shadow lingered over her and when she looked up at him, he wore a goofy grin, eyes boring into her. “You ready, Pumpkin?” He asked in a mocking tone that made her eye twitch for a moment.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” She grumbled softly, glaring up at him. He reached his hand out and his fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulder and down her collarbone.
“Why not?” He pouted lightly, fingertips brushing up her neck now. “I know it feels good.” He whispered the second part, winking at her and she raised her hand to slap him, before the director scolded her.
“(Y/N)! Let’s save our emotions for the audience, hmm?” He shouted over the talking students in the room. Everyone went quiet and turned their eyes to her, making a warm blush flood her cheeks.
“You’re so cute when you blush for me.” Ted teases softly, pinching her arm.
Today is going to be a long ass day…
—🩵—🩵—
She watched on with fake love in her eyes as Ted read off his lines like a beautiful poem, especially for her. He took her hand in his as he continued, voice warm and welcoming, as if it were a soft pillow for her to lie back on-
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The words weren’t his, but the look in his eyes and the way he said it so clearly to her made her body grow warm. My character, it’s just his character speaking to mine.
“Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do not touch, and hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.” She spoke skeptically, eyes watching his every move. As he moved his body closer to hers, she had to fight the urge to step back. She could practically feel the magnetic urgency trying to pull them together, but she denied it, craving the comfortability in safety. His hand carefully raised to her jaw, cupping it with a gentle palm.
“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” His voice was softer, careful almost, as if he was afraid of her pulling away. Taking in a sharp breath, she paused a moment, seemingly forgetting her lines- though she was quick to steady herself.
“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” She placed a careful hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he slipped an arm around her waist, fingertips resting in the small of her back. She knew it was coming, yet the more he touched her, the harder it was to keep up the boundaries she held.
“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” His words were a deep rumbling whisper as his other hand slid up the side of her body. His fingertips gently massaged a path up her shoulder, her collarbone, just to rest carefully on her jawline. His thumb carefully ran over the apple of her cheeks as she struggled to find her line once more.
“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her mouth ran dry as he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly. She felt heat strike through her body and liquid heat pool in between her legs.
“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” His voice is deep rumble that vibrates her to her very core. When he leant down and pressed his lips carefully to hers, her world suddenly burst into vibrant colors, warmth immersing the room in the fireworks that flew between them. Both parties had a difficult time pulling apart, but she managed to pull away, only to realize she had a firm grip on his hair. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ted struggled to get his line out without stuttering, “Th-Thus from my lips, by then, my sin is purged.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers for even the slightest millisecond of time and his grip around her just tightened; until the director and everyone else in the class clapped. “That was absolutely stunning.” The director calls out. Almost instantly upon realization that they weren’t alone, they quickly tore apart from each other- she was blushing madly, while Ted just wore a look of confusion.
—🩵—🩵—
It was a few hours after practice and most of the staff went home, while she sat on the stage, silently going over her lines. She was reading through every detail, looking for every emotion. Lying back, she laid the script over her face, mind still flying from the previous events of the day. Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps and a soft shift of air around her as whoever it was sat beside her.
“Ted…” She grumbles, without even moving the script from her face. She knew it was him- of course she did, she hates him. His scent filled her nostrils and tempted to distract her.
“(Y/N)…” His voice is gentle; hearing him say her name like that was a surprise. Reaching up, he gently pulls the script away from her face. When her pretty eyes meet his, he smiles softly and just watches her for a moment. “Can we talk?”
“Hmph.” She lets out a soft puff of air and crosses her arms.
“(Y/N).” His voice is still gentle, but this time it takes on a warning tone. She looks back up at him through her lashes and sighs. Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit. “Now that you’re situated… Why do you hate me?”
“Can we just go over our lines, please?” Her eyes are silently pleading, but he just slowly nods with a soft sigh of succession.
“Where do you wanna start-“ He’s quickly cut off as she basically launches at him, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. His mind is telling him to pull away, but everything else is telling him to pull her closer. His hands grip her hips, tight enough to leave bruises and he helps her climb into his lap. Pulling away, he looks up at her with a small smirk, “If you wanted me that bad you just needed to tell me.” He teased gently.
“If you want me at all, you’ll shut the fuck up.” She growls lowly. Raising a brow at her, he reaches behind her and places a firm slap on her rear.
“You better check your attitude with me, Sweetheart.” A squeak left her lips when he spanked her and she jumped, making her grind forward against him. Ted bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “Princess…”
The warmth in his voice and the tempting softness in his eyes made her melt right there in his lap. She was careful and hesitant with each movement she made. Exploring the new territory was terrifying, but it felt so… Right. Her lips traced along his neck, kissing and sucking every exposed inch of skin she could reach. Her canines would occasionally scrape over a patch of skin and her tongue would dart out to soothe it.
“You feel so good… Being such a good girl for me.” Ted mumbled, eyes closed and simply enjoying her sweet touches.
“You taste so good, Teddy.” She mumbles against his skin, tongue flicking out over his pulse point. “Makes me angry how good you feel.” Letting out a deep, breathy chuckle, he pries her away from him and lays her back on the stage.
“I know, Honey, I know…” He coos, pulling her shorts down her legs. His eyes settled on the wet patch on her panties, light hitting it and making it glisten in the most tantalizing way. His mouth watered at the sight. “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm? I bet you taste as beautiful as you look.” A high pitched whine leaves her lips and she grabs for him to try and pull him close again, but he denies her, instead moving his hands down her thighs and massaging the skin there. His thumbs kneaded her flesh, making her relax for him.
“There ya go, babes… That feel good?” He hums, hands creeping just slightly higher. A soft moan of relief leaves her lips.
“Yessss…” She hisses out softly, eyes fluttering shut.
“You seem to be carrying quite a bit of tension here…” He says smoothly as his hands move to the inside of her thighs and slowly creep higher. “But I think most of your tension is held here.” His fingertips brushing against the wet spot on her panties made her body jolt and a mewl sound around them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.
“Ted.” She whimpers, making him chuckle.
“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much tension… Right here.” As he finished his sentence, he gently pressed his thumb to her clit, making her back arch away from the stage and up towards him.
“Teddy!” She cries out in a lewd beg, hips moving against his hand in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. His thumb just continued to move in slow circles around her throbbing bud, making her cunt clench around nothing.
“What’s wrong, Hon? Hmm?” He teased, watching as her wetness continued to soak through her panties until she was dripping on the stage floor.
“I- I can’t- ‘S too much!” She cries out, nails digging into the skin of his forearm that she held onto for dear life. The confidence in his eyes flared and changed to a much darker expression, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Aww, does it feel too good, Pumpkin? Can’t handle feeling so good?” He mocked her in the most condescending way, but it made a whimper leave her lips as her eyes flashed open and met his. “You’re going to lay there and take it like the filthy slut you are.” He growls lowly, free hand slapping the outside of her thigh hard enough to leave a hand print, but her squeal morphed with a lewd moan of desperation.
“Yes Teddy… I- I can take- take it.” She stuttered out, legs shaking. His degrading hit her body like a truck, making her head go fuzzy. Ted nearly lost it when he saw the pure submissive state that she had slipped into, her eyes staring up at him innocently.
“Look at you, Princess…” He mumbles, pushing her panties aside and slipping his middle finger into her. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent moan. Her eyes locked on his as he curled his finger upwards to hit her most sensitive spot. “So fucking pretty.”
“Ted-“ She tries to speak, but he quickly shushes her. He slipped his ring finger into her as well and placed his free hand on her abdomen, very gently adding pressure. The feeling intensified for her and she cried out a sob, body shaking.
“You know I won’t let anyone else touch you now.” He mumbles, working his fingers faster and harder. “You’re mine now. Mine to degrade, mine to praise, mine to fuck… Mine to protect.” As the words continued to fall from his lips, her chest swelled with a new, overwhelming, uncertain emotion. Her cunt tightened, just as her chest did when she realized what emotion he was evoking in her.
“Ted I-“ He’s quick to cut her off.
“No, Shhh… Trust me, (Y/N)… Let me make you feel good, then you’re free to go back to hating me.” He speaks softly, eyes watching her face, rather than her body.
“No, Ted I want you.” She whimpers softly, her voice so soft and so weak. She sounded so innocent. “Please.” A warm smile broke out across his lips and he nodded, pulling his fingers from her and popping them in his mouth. A low groan rumbled through him, and he closed his eyes to savor her taste. When he pulled his finger free from his mouth.
“So fucking sweet.” He growls, literally ripping her panties from her body. “Because of course, the world’s biggest brat has to have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it off, folding it in half. Ted used the folded leather as a riding crop, slapping the outside of her thigh. “Spread ‘em, Cupcake.”
A smirk crossed her lips at the opportunity so clearly in front of her. Shaking her head, she huffed out one simple word, “No.” Ted grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him. Giggling wildly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Mmh, maybe I just won’t let you cum…” She whined at the idea, pouting and smacking his arm, making him use his free hand to hold hers down. “Maybe I’ll just stuff you with my cum and plug you up. Let you throb around a silly toy instead of me.”
“Teddy!” She basically begs, tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. He let out a warm, hearty laugh at her response and slowly dragged the belt across her abdomen, using it to brush her shirt slightly upwards.
“Aww, poor Pup wants me to breed her?” He asks, raising a brow as his free hand carefully massages her hip. She quickly nodded her head and her hands made a little grabby motion for him, a high pitched whine leaving her lips.
“You’re so precious, Honey.” He hums, undoing the button on his slacks and pushing them down -along with his boxers- just enough for his cock to spring free. Biting her lip, she watched as precum dripped from the tip and fell onto her thigh. Her eyes slowly went up his body to settle on his, boring into his soul.
“I wanna taste you, Theo.” She fluttered her lashes at him in the prettiest, most sweet and innocent way she could.
“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you deserve that treat today, Puppy.” He hums, gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders and leaning so close to her that his lips brushed against hers and he whispered, “You only get what I chose to give you.”
The second that he finished his sentence, he buried himself to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat as her back tried to arch, but couldn’t as he pressed further forward, basically bending her in half. Her hands flew to his back and her nails bit into the fabric, nearly tearing the threads apart piece by piece.
“I’m gonna fill you up until your pretty little body can’t hold anymore.” He growls lowly, biting her lower lip. His words made her cunt tighten around him in an attempt to draw him in even closer. Drawing his hips back slowly, she drew in a sharp gasp when his hips lurched forwards, burying himself inside of her once more.
“Teddddyyy nnngh!” She chokes out, body trembling beneath his and he chuckles darkly, mouth attaching to her.
“What’s wrong, Cupcake? Can you not take it?” He mocked, cooing in her ear as he quickened his pace, fucking into her harshly and caging her in with his arms beside her head. She wildly shook her head, grappling for him with her nails nearly shredding the fabric of his shirt.
“P-please- ta- Ahh~ take it off.” She stutters out, gripping over little moans and whines. Ted found it impossible to resist her pleas when they sounded just so pretty. He kept his eyes on her face as he felt her nails dragging down his back.
“That feel better, Hon?” He mumbles and she buried her face in his neck.
“Yessss…” She hissed, teeth biting into the skin of his neck. “Oh God, Theo…”
“If I’d have known that you’d stop being such a fucking brat, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He growls, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he changed the angle of his hips, making her let out a shaky sob. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision clouded. Ted smirked as he hummed, watching the way her body morphed and changed position with every thrust.
The way he filled her so full, made her mind fuzzy and her thoughts fade away. Her cunt tightened around him as she threatened to fall over the edge, “Please Ted!”
“I dunno, Pumpkin. Do you think you deserve it?” He asks, halting in his movements, making her so frustrated she nearly screamed.
“Please, please, please, I’ll be so good, I swear. I’ll be so so so good for you Theo, please.” She begged and pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Gimme a kiss then, cutie.” Before his sentence was even complete, she launched herself forward, capturing his lips on hers. While she was distracted, he slipped his hand between the two of them, thumb massaging quick circles on her pretty little bud, picking his thrusts back up. His ministrations, made her let out a squeak against his lips as the band in her belly stretches so tightly that it could break at any second.
“Go ahead, Honey. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. How’s that sound? Want me to fill you up? Get you all round with my babies?” His words were all that she needed, her world exploding into stars and butterflies as her orgasm hits her like a comet hits the earth, shattering her every nerve. Ted watched as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyebrows pinched together. He held eye contact with her the entire time, reminding her to breathe as she rides off the effects. “There ya go, there it is. You alright, Sweetie?”
Her breathing began to steady as overstimulation kicked in, “‘M good, Teddy… I wan’ it.” She mumbles as he helped her move her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. His thumbs gently massaged her hips as he slowly picked his thrusts back up.
“I know, honey… Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got ya.” He speaks calmly, watching her as she starts to come back to attention. “There ya are… Welcome back to reality, Sweetheart.” He chuckles softly, giving her a goofy smile. A giggle punctuated by a soft moan leaves her lips and she smiles up at him, her own hands gripping his biceps and rolling her thumbs over his skin.
A soft groan leaves him and he lets his head fall to her chest as he struggles to hold it together. “My God, you’re so fucking tight. Gonna squeeze the life outta me.” He grumbles, placing gentle kisses over her chest as he lazily rolls his hips against hers. Her fingers gently card through his hair as she mumbles her own praises to him.
“You feel so good, Ted. Ya’ make me feel s’ good.” She hums, locking her legs around his waist as he starts to lose his pace. Lifting his head with the little energy he has left he gives her a questioning look.
“You sure you don’t-“ But she was quick to cut him off.
“Cum for me.” She whispers in his ear, placing a careful, open mouthed kiss on his neck. Right when she spoke, her pussy clamped down on him, making his eyes roll back in his head as his hips stutter and he bottoms out inside of her.
“Mmh, fuck…” He growls, filling her to the brim. “So good for me… Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.” His head falls to her chest and he mumbles something into her shirt. Whatever he said made him blush, the tips of his ears going red. She gently cups his jawline and lifts his head to look at her.
“What did you say, Theo?” She asks gently, thumb running across his lip. He paused and just stared at her for a moment, silence floating between them.
“I can’t believe you never realized how in love with you I am.”
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moonydustx · 2 months
Note
Hi!! Your writing is so good. I love it so much!!! Can i request a Five x female reader? Where the reader is smug and direct about her feelings? Thank you!! 🫶🫶🫶
Hi Hi! First, thank you for appreciating my work ❤️❤️
I tried my best to deliver and I apologize in advance if anything deviated from the proposal. I used Five from last season because his personality in these last few episodes is my favorite. Again, thanks for the request and i hope u like!
requests | the umbrella academy masterlist
What do you feel?
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x F!Reader
Warnings: fluffff, some things are a little out of canon, F!Reader is also someone with powers. She can feel others' feelings and make others feel hers through touch.
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You still remembered the first time Five crossed your eyes at Temps Comisson. The neat jacket, the formal shorts and the almost arrogant posture for just a kid. At first, you hated him.
"A new friend for you." the manager introduced you to him and the two of you barely bothered to shake hands.
"Great, a newbie." Five replied, without much patience.
"I already have my suitcase, I don't need this new one." the cynicism in your tone was clear to both of them. When you saw the manager looking at you impatiently, you turned to him. "Let's follow the rules: don't get in my way, don't meddle in my choices and please don't expect me to save you if you're standing in the grave."
"I could say the same." Five replied, extending his hand to you. "Deal."
And a few years later, here you were. Cooped up in the family of what you could call your best friend, attending a wedding taking place under the lights of the end of the world.
"What do you think, huh? Apocalyptic weddings." Five whispered as the bride and groom entered.
"First I need to find someone who can handle it." your answer came out almost automatically and you just watched Five deny it, with a smile on his lips.
The ceremony was quick, totally the opposite of dinner. The two of you chose to sit at a table alone, taking in your surroundings. The happy couples, Ali and Viktor fighting, Ben being disturbed by Klaus.
"Can you feel what they think from here?" Five asked, filling his glass.
"Sex, sex." you pointed to Luther and Diego with their respective spouses. "Guilt and grudge." you pointed at Viktor and then Allison. "And suicide." Finally, you pointed at Ben. "Look, I don't even need to go there and touch them."
"Sometimes I forget." He pointed to your hands covered in gloves. "And you, how do you feel about the world ending?"
"Relief, I guess." You lied, seeing him nod.
You both watched Klaus approach, in silence. Brother Hargreeves tried to convince them to listen to Sir Reginald, but it was in vain. You understood his hope, in trying to somehow rescue his father's good image and no matter how much he denied it, you could feel that Five wanted to be able to have that kind of hope too.
"I still don't believe him." Five said in a low tone, despite having alcohol in his blood, he still needed to remain alert.
"Me either." you imitated him, moving closer to him. The two of your heads were practically glued together as the two of you talked. "It's a shame to see Klaus so… wait a minute."
Sir Reginald's presence was present there, frightening everyone. It wasn't the spiteful version that you heard Five talk about over the years, but there was something that didn't fit there, you could feel it.
The man gave a brief speech, with a huge poem and it was clear from the looks of those around that the situation was stranger than you could imagine. Perhaps with the intention of breaking the ice hovering in the air, as soon as Hargreeves left the microphone, the dance floor was filled with music and colored lights.
"The old man is actually good at it." Five pondered, taking your attention.
"I don't know, something is wrong. He's always alert, he won't let me touch him." you responded immediately, watching him think for a few seconds.
"Any ideas what we can do?"
"I don't know if you got the memo, but we're about to die. " you turned away from Five to grab your glass. In a cynical gesture, you took your glass towards his glass, improvising a toast. "Here's to the old man's minutes of sanity."
"How can you be so frank?" He seemed indignant, drawing a laugh from your lips. "You're worse than me."
"Ah, dear Five. Try to feel what everyone else feels for a day. All the anger, all the fear. Your own feelings become a burden to you." your words silenced him, leaving space for him to just nod and for you to return to contemplating the speeches.
"I'm glad the world is ending." he stood up, extending his hand to you while his other hand held the bottle of champagne you shared. "Screw other people's feelings."
"Yeah, screw it." You accepted and stood up.
Five led you to the dance floor and even though the music was more upbeat and the dance floor was full of his brothers, he still spun you around a few times, in a kind of disconcerted waltz.
Five soon let go of you and climbed up to where the DJ table was, taking the microphone from the strange man. Without speech or prior notice, Five began to sing. The lyrics weren't the happiest of all, much less the melody, but they were familiar to you. You remembered singing it a few times in Five's presence and saying how much it reminded you of your father, who had been away from you for years.
"Would you accompany me?" your eyes moved away from Five's to Klaus, who proposed a dance. You could notice his suspicious look as he led you away.
"You like him, don't you?" Klaus asked and you just nodded, there was no point in hiding it anymore. "Well, you still have some time until the world ends."
"And if it doesn't end, what do I do next?"
"What do you mean it doesn't end?" Klaus asked, stopping turning you around. "Will you accept Dad's plan?"
"No, no, that's not it. I've seen Five end apocalypses before, I think something inside me hopes he can fix this one too. Maybe it's just the grief speaking inside me."
"Yeah, maybe."
Klaus turned you around once again and let you go, leaving you alone for just a few seconds.
"Let's get out of here?" Five's voice materialized behind you. "I need fresh air."
Before you could respond, he held your hand and led you away. It only took a few minutes for the two of you to be alone, watching the orange sky from the building's terrace.
"Can I ask you something?" You sat next to him, keeping little distance. Before you could ask, he held out the bottle of champagne he hadn't put down yet.
"Technically you already asked."
"Stop being an idiot." your shoulders collided with his. "That's it, right? I think we finally don't have the solution."
"I can almost believe you're scared." this time, you didn't deny it, you just looked away. "You know you don't need to talk, right?"
"I know, but it's frustrating. Running after saving the world all this time and not being able to. I'd rather die, I don't know, run over by a car, with an anvil falling on my head. But an apocalypse?" you laughed and watched Five do what you had done many times when you couldn't use your voice to talk. He took one of your hands and took off the glove, allowing himself to touch your skin.
"I can feel you." he replied, in a low tone. "You are afraid."
Five preferred to omit everything else he felt when he touched your skin. Fear, anguish, anxiety, love. The last one weighed on his mind, but he knew you and knew you would come out as soon as he felt comfortable. In a way, he knew that when he touched you, you would also be aware of his feelings.
"The only people who aren't scared are those who aren't paying attention."
"I think we need to drink more, to forget about this." even after just a few minutes of sitting, Five pulled you to your feet. "And this dress suits you, it's a waste to stay here while the party is going on downstairs."
Again, he dragged you downstairs, where the celebration was taking place. Whiskey, vodka, beer, everything that still contains a quantity of alcohol became part of your menu and at the end of the party, you found yourself sitting at the counter, Five standing a few meters away, tasting two different drinks. Maybe that would be the last time the two of you would party.
"Five?" you interrupted him, making him place the two bottles on the floor. "I don't want to die with regrets."
"Elucidate me on that."
"Even though The Handler always made it clear that I was too much for you, I like you." A sob caused by alcohol interrupted your train of thought. "I like it and I know that maybe I'm a little too much for your arrogance. You're also a little too much for me." You laughed, seeing him approach. "I think after these years, it's only fair for me to say that I love you."
"You think?" he laughed, fitting himself between your legs dangling from the metal counter. "You drank too much."
"You too." you responded immediately, starting to take off your gloves. "And alcohol doesn't affect my opinion. Feelings don't lie, do you want to feel?" Before the first glove could leave your hand, Five stopped you.
"I believe in you and I feel the same." he replied and in an unexpected gesture, he hugged you, putting his face in your mouth. "I've loved you for a while, it's a shame it took us so many years to realize."
"We can live that at least now." You gave space for his face to be in front of yours. "Damn, now I wish I could end this apocalypse."
His lips took yours and instead of his hands attaching themselves to your body, Five disheveledly took off your gloves and pulled your hands until they tangled around the back of his neck.
"I love you so much." he murmured between your lips, feeling almost overwhelmed by all the feeling that emanated from your hands. "Tonight, I'm yours and you're mine, fuck this apocalypse."
"Until the world ends?" you asked breathlessly.
"Until the world ends."
Your mouth tasted like alcohol, sweets and fear for the small future, but Five didn't see the problem, after all you could love each other until the world ended.
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vasito-de-leche · 4 months
Note
Could we have some Zima relationship headcanons :]
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;R1999 ZIMA - Relationship Headcanons
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Compilation of headcanons about Zima in a romantic relationship.
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ofc you can nonnie, ty for the request! Zima was the other character that got me into the game so he's very dear to me
also also, I'm not sick anymore so I have some steam to work on requests, hehe <3 still working on the sleepy fics though, don't worry yall!
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I haven't done a proper analysis/HCs post on Zima yet, so as usual I'll be talking a little about his character before getting into the whole relationship aspect of things!
The portrayal of Zima as a stereotypical, shy introvert feels extremely reductive to me, especially when it's all attributed to his speech pattern - the pauses, the stuttering... None of it is an indication of timidness. We have to remember that Zima's native language, like many other characters, is not english and he struggles when speaking it. That's the reason he speaks in such a way, there's a language barrier he's constantly fighting against in order to communicate with others and yet he's clearly trying.
There's an emphasis on loneliness, isolation and avoidance in his character that is impossible to ignore, which seems to add to the whole portrayal of Zima as a "shy baby". But again, this is something that comes from an important part of his life - the exile he went through. Him being socially inept is a result of a punishment, years of being alone with no one but animals to keep him company. It doesn't come from a sense of inferiority or insecurity such as Charlie, but an absolute lack of human contact.
When examining his voicelines, we also see that he's opinionated - criticizing the Tsar and the poor living conditions of the people, speaking of the beauty of nature and so on and so forth. He explicitly writes poems on any surface like trees, rocks and snow, even if he knows they'll be washed away overtime.
I understand that it's extremely easy to dismiss Zima when it comes to romance because of all of these details, his isolating ways and all, but he's a poet first and foremost.
While he may not be romantic in the more traditional sense we're used to, he's extremely insightful and takes a lot of care to appreciate the small details that often go overlooked, but that make life feel more lively and rich. In the context of relationships, given his age and his lifestyle, Zima would bring a completely different type of vibe - for comparison, most of the characters I talked about already lean towards high emotions, the fun of discovering love for the first time, etc etc...
Pavia's love is a whole rollercoaster on his own because there's always the chance of either getting hurt or having the time of your life, Forget Me Not's feels exactly like being hungover in the morning. But Zima's love is more like coming home after a long trip, knowing there's a warm meal waiting for you. It's familiar and calm.
On the subject of Zima falling in love.
Zima is used to introspection, so I genuinely believe he has a strong sense of self and a good grasp on his emotions. He quickly realizes when he's fallen for someone and he accepts it easily, despite the lack of romantic interactions in his life. This is because the object of his affections is, most likely, someone he already cherishes, and who puts the effort into maintaining a good friendship with him - so the idea of being in love with them feels natural!
I can't see Zima pursuing romantic relationships with strangers and/or those outside his close circle, not even a surface attraction beyond artistic appreciation for someone's looks. He strikes me as the type who can only fall in love with those he trusts and knows.
And even then, his behaviour wouldn't change much!
It's obvious that he lacks friends, so the very few people he does have are extremely important to him - even so, Zima does not need to constantly orbit around them and will gladly spend days (and weeks if you don't actively seek him out) without seeing them, content to catch up with them whenever their paths cross. He shares what little he has to offer with everyone, practical things and knowledge. Zima is 100% that friend who disappears for months and returns as if nothing happened.
When it comes to you, it's the same. Sure, if you ask him to stay a little longer then he'll oblige you. And if you're the chatty type or find his work interesting, then he'll put the effort into having a conversation with you despite the language barrier. But that's about it, the changes aren't noticeable no matter how much he loves you, because all of that happens when no one is looking.
If you happen to stroll around in the wilderness, getting lost in the forest and all, then you might find your name carved on trees along with many, many poems. If you don't speak or read russian, then all you'll be able to recognize is your name - the very first thing Zima taught you in his native tongue - but these are all declarations of love.
The animals are kinder to you, curious even. They follow and treat you like an old friend, as if they knew you, because everything they've heard from you comes from Zima himself. They speak about everything and anything with him, after all.
Zima lacks the initiative to confess or even consider being in a proper relationship with you - I insist, he's genuinely content with being a close friend - but he also lacks the restraint to keep his feelings to himself and thus puts them on display in the only way he knows how: as a poorly kept secret between himself and the nature that surrounds him.
Not many think of him as a romantic because of how stoic he is, but when Zima is in love, he sees you in every flower, in the snowflakes that fall and kiss his nose. You're the gentle summer breeze and the crystal clear rivers once winter ends. You're right there beside him in spirit when he sees little chicks take flight for the first time, or when all the other forest critters wake up after hibernating. Zima finds beauty in every aspect of nature, and he sees you everywhere he looks.
That said, there's no way he'll take the first step. That's entirely up to you, to pick up all these things and confront him about it - that's the only time he'll be open and direct about his feelings. Because you already know how much you mean to him!
Zima would love to teach you his native language.
This is partially me projecting because english isn't my native language either, but I do like to think that Zima's english is all self-taught. He understands when others speak english, but isn't as fluent when speaking himself. And that's why it's sooo infuriating and frustrating for him, as a creative person and poet.
Not only because it's harder to communicate with others, but because his work and poems - the most important part of himself - can't be fully understood. Therefore HE can't be fully understood. Some translations, while good, can't even come close to their original meaning. As his partner, Zima wants you to understand the full depth of his affections and thoughts.
I do think that the process of learning would also be quite organic, starting with Zima simply pointing out at things and teaching you the way they're named in russian, basic stuff he does unconsciously. If you pick up things on your own from his work and his translations, Zima will be over the moon and would ask you to repeat yourself to make sure your pronunciation is right and because he loves the way his language sounds with your accent.
But if you approach and ask him to properly teach you? He's gone, instantly overwhelmed with emotion and thoughts racing in his head, trying to organize a million different things - what would be the best way to teach you? Should he start with the alphabet? You want to learn this brand new language to understand him better, that simple gesture is a huge deal for him.
Once you have a pretty good grasp on the language, at least enough to have basic conversations with him, it will feel like Zima has gotten a little bolder - addressing you with pet names, being generally more blunt and talkative... But in fact, he's just finally able to express himself in his totality.
This also goes the other way around - Zima would love to learn your own native language, whether it's english or something else. It's yet another language he can use to express himself, so it's a win-win. And I know that it's common for us multilingual people to start confusing and mixing all the languages we speak, but I think Zima would have an easy time keeping them apart, so to speak!
On the subject of Zima and how he acts when he's in a relationship.
You two were close friends before you were lovers, so Zima doesn't feel any sort of pressure to live up to some dating standards like fancy dates, gifts or grandiose displays of affections - once again, it's all about what feels natural. You two know each other more than enough to simply fall into a comfortable routine that works out for both.
He does make the effort to drop by more often, to find a middle ground until he feels more comfortable and used to being around large groups of people. But he would also insist that you accompany for his walks in search of inspiration for his work!
When it comes to showing affection, I think Zima might be a little touchstarved - casual physical contact such as someone hugging or patting him on the back as a greeting still catch him by surprise, but affectionate gestures with those he trusts and loves is a novelty that leaves Zima starry-eyed.
He has a lot of things that he needs to slowly get used to again now that he's not exiled in the middle of the woods, but having you shower him with affection is something that he grows to like rather quickly. When you pet him, pepper his face with kisses, hold his hand when walking or hug him - it doesn't matter, Zima will always stand there, fascinated with the way you make him feel, so very warm and safe.
He would appreciate a warning before being touched, and he always makes sure to ask before initiating anything himself - it doesn't matter how many times you tell him that you're fine with this sort of contact, he's going to ask for permission anyway. Just out of politeness. Personal space is important, after all.
I think Zima would try to stick to a routine he can follow without overwhelming himself, especially if you're the type to need more attention (again, Zima will literally disappear for weeks if left to his own devices). It's more of a short list of things he needs to remember to do before the day is over, the two most important ones being greeting you in the morning and wishing you goodnight.
As for more general aspects of a relationship, I don't think there's much to say! Arguments with him rarely happen because he's patient and careful with his words, he communicates his needs and boundaries as well as he respects yours and all. Zima isn't that talkative, but his more "eccentric" traits are something you're probably used to on account of that initial bond and trust.
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jeonqkooks · 11 months
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a fluff drabble ; 37 & 50 w the supernova couple:(
ways to hold the sun | jjk
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SUPERNOVA SERIES MASTERPOST
pairing: jungkook x f!reader prompts: "you wrote me a song?" + "this isn't adrenaline, i want to spend the rest of my life with you." rating: PG genre/warnings: established relationship, idol au; fluff, itty bitty angst (for the supernova peeps?! shocking :o); kissing, implied smut, jk rides a motorcycle, unedited bc yolo 🤷‍♀️ word count: 1.8k note: thank you so much anon for sending in this request!! i'm almost a year late to this but like i always say, better late than never right? lol. anyways, this request gave me the chance to wrap up their story with a neat little bow. i can't believe this is the last thing i'll write for supernova :( this series will always be one of my personal favorites and i'm so emo that i'm ending their story with this drabble. but, they'll always have a special, special place in my heart and i'll always love them <3
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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How do you hold the sun?
The answer is simple.
You hold him with two arms wrapped around his waist - tightly, because it feels like he holds your life in the palm of his hand. In more ways than one, he does.
You hated that motorcycle that he loved so much, calling it unsafe even though he isn't reckless at all. He may be a daredevil sometimes, and the most adventurous compared to his hyungs, but Jungkook would never neglect his safety. He returns home to you every day, that's always his number one priority.
He'd convinced you to let him take you out on his motorcycle today, to this spot he knows just outside of the city to watch the sunset together. You'd been against the idea at first, but it was a losing battle and you were all too aware of it. Once he'd whipped out a pout and big puppy dog eyes, you knew you'd cave.
Now, as you sit behind him, holding onto him like a koala as the bike moves smoothly along with the wind, you're glad that you'd agreed to let him do this. The city grows smaller, and it feels like all of your worries seem more and more insignificant - manageable, like something you could easily overcome - by the second, until the whole skyline can fit into one single frame.
It feels nice, hiding in plain sight. The ridiculously chunky helmets that sit securely on your heads shield you from any and all outsiders. You can squeeze him as tightly as you want even at the red lights, and he can hold your hand without the fear of being recognized. To anyone else, you're just two lovebirds and a license plate. Two people in love. It's the most normal thing in the world.
When you arrive at your destination and he takes off his helmet, the radiance of his grin almost knocks you off your axis. It's ever-bright, filled with so much happiness that could make you cry for some reason. You'll never understand how a person can be the entire universe, so wonderful and spectacular and magnificent, but he is. He always will be.
There's that one poem that you hold close to your heart. Sometimes, when you retrace the words in your mind, you think it must have been written for you and him. "We deserve a soft epilogue, my love," it reads. "We are good people and we've suffered enough."
You aren't sure if you're a good person, but as he kisses you with so much love that must rival any other love in all of history, you think you do deserve a soft epilogue.
Your mother often says that good things should be repeated three times.
You and him.
You and him.
You and him.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with your fingers intertwined with his, a soft smile on your face, and dozens of polaroids scattered across the floor.
"Just one more," Jungkook says, reaching for the purple Instax again.
"Stop!" you laugh, lightly pushing him away when he tries to point the lens in your direction. "You've said that twenty times in the last two hours."
This is a new hobby that he's taken up. Ever since Hoseok gifted him the damn camera, it's all that Jungkook has been doing. To say that he was obsessed would probably be an understatement. He snaps photos of everything and nothing, of his meals whenever you draw a heart on his plate with the mayonnaise, of the crescent moon outside the window at night, of himself as he makes silly faces at the camera.
But most of all, he takes photos of you.
He keeps so many of them in his wallet that the stack of polaroids dedicated to you is thicker than all of his cash, which is to say that there's a lot. He keeps one in the pocket of every coat, because he said every time he reaches inside for warmth and finds a piece of you there, it makes him smile and forget that he's even cold at all. You'd nearly melted when he told you that. It was so earnest and pure that it almost made you feel guilty for ever thinking there'd come a day where the adoration he had for you could fill anything less than the sky.
"Please?" Jungkook pouts, before pulling you closer and kissing your cheek sweetly. "I need just one more for my new coat."
At this point, it's not a matter of having enough polaroids for his coats anymore. It's a matter of having enough coats for his polaroids.
You roll your eyes with playful endearment, but you allow him regardless. It shoots pure serotonin through your veins when he grins. He lets go of your hands to hold the camera, immortalizing the grin that you mimic, a contented sigh leaving him as he takes the shot. He tells you he loves you afterward, like it's such a privilege to be able to have you at all.
No one ever warns you that when the sun holds you back, your heart will feel so full that it might just stop beating altogether.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with your face tucked safely in the crook of his neck, his arm around your body, rubbing odd patterns on your bare back.
You're both calming down from the hour-long session of twisting around in the sheets on a lazy Sunday morning, your only witness being the sunlight that creeps in through the slit between your curtains. Jungkook hums a tune that you're unfamiliar with, and the soft vibration of his chest almost lulls you to sleep again.
"What song is that?" you mumble, your eyes fluttering close.
"Your song."
"Hmm?" You don't quite register what his answer, you already have one foot in dreamland already. "My song?"
"Wrote it for you."
And suddenly, just like that, you're wide awake.
He presses an absentminded kiss against your hair, like this is all just common information.
"Huh?" You push yourself up to prop your upper body on one elbow, looking down at him with a slight frown. "You wrote a song for me?"
"Yeah," he chuckles at your reaction. His other hand that isn't touching your back comes up to brush your hair away from your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. If you weren't too focused on a different issue, you would blush, even though this is something he's done a million times. "I wrote a song for you."
"Be serious."
"I am serious."
"How?" you ask, unbelieving. "When? Why?"
"What do you mean how? It's literally my job," he laughs, pulling you flush against his body again. "Why? Because I love you. When? I started writing it after we first met."
"Jungkook," you breathe, full of teary-eyed affection as you press a kiss to his jawline, his neck, the top of his shoulder, anywhere you can reach while he's embracing you this tightly.
You repeat his name three times, then three more, then three more, until you're a broken record and he has to shush you with a kiss, one that makes your knees buckle even though you're already lying in bed.
If the world wanted to take him away from you again, you really wouldn't be able to survive. So you hold him desperately, thinking that you never want to let him go. Praying that the world will let you keep him this time.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with all your might, even though you're blinded by how bright he shines. Even though he's the source of all life, and you're just a flickering light that can be snuffed out at any moment.
You're always the first person that he looks for. He runs to you at full speed, picks you up with his arms around your waist and spins you around despite your flushed cheeks indicating embarrassment as everyone - the staff and his members included - chuckles fondly at the sight. You can still hear the crowd out there chanting their names, still buzzing with postshow excitement. Jungkook is buzzing too, that much is clear.
You know he misses this - the stage, the fans, the bond he shares with all the people that adore him. It's in his eyes, the way they sparkle so brilliantly that could put stars to shame. If you were any good with words, you would write whole novels about the light in his eyes.
He presses you against the wall while everybody else carries on with their business. You suppose they're used to this from the two of you. The staff hurries to clear the set, moving equipment from backstage to the vans outside so they could finally wrap up an exhausting day. The boys shuffle wordlessly to their dressing rooms to wind down, to bask in the high that only the stage could bring them.
Jungkook peppers kisses all over your face, his nose bumping your skin as he moves from your forehead to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, to your jawline, to your chin, to your lips. You giggle quietly as you let him shower you with affection, the palpable love seeping through every kiss.
That is, until he says something that makes you stop breathing completely.
"Marry me."
You stare at him, dumbfounded, as you try to make your brain work again. His chocolate orbs stare back at you, and it feels like looking at the night sky on a cloudless night to find the entire galaxy twinkling, smiling down at you. It's unfathomable how you could be loved by someone like him.
"Marry me. Please, marry me." he says again, his fingers caressing your face like you're the most precious being he's ever seen. Before you can open your mouth to answer him, he continues, "This isn't adrenaline. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
You know you're nothing compared to him who lies in the center of the universe. You will never be able to shine as brightly as he does, not even a fraction.
You know you're nothing compared to him, and yet, he revolves around you regardless. To the rest of the world, you're insignificant. You're merely a soul among billions of others. If you were to disappear one day, you don't think a lot of people would care.
But to him, you're everything. You're the reason he exists, you're his favorite person in the whole wide world, you're the only one who will ever have his heart, you're his soft epilogue. He doesn't dim his light for you, and he should never have to. Instead, he lifts you up. He makes you shine too, even if it's only the two of you who see it. It's only you and him, but it's more than enough. It's the only thing that matters.
So, the question remains: How do you hold the sun?
The answer, in the end, is simple.
You hold him with love.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.06.23]
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ineffabildaddy · 6 months
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Please Touch Me - a Crowley POV poem
just a quick one that was languishing in my brain and didn't want to be there anymore. hope you enjoy<3 be warned, explicit content ahead!
read my aziraphale pov poem on tumblr here or on ao3 here
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Please touch me.
Touch me to show me we are, above all and despite everything, comrades.
Tap my shoulder with fingers as light as a feather when you greet me. Capture my hand in a fleeting yet firm shake. Clap me on the back in laidback acclamation.
Please touch me, and when you do, be not afraid.
Let the gentle grip that graces my bicep when we erupt into laughter linger. Resist from shrinking away when the fine hairs on the back of your hand brush mine. Refrain from apologising if your knee bumps against my shin at the dinner table.
Please touch me to communicate with the world around us.
Lay a steady hand on my heaving chest in the throng of a tipsy crowd, just for a second. Remain still and upright before your guest when I perch on the edge of your chair and nestle the curve of my waist into your shoulder.
Please touch me, and let your touch soothe me.
Blink as you bring your face to meet mine so your eyelashes stroke my skin. Gift me the ghost of a kiss on my forehead before bedtime. Hook your forefinger over my pinky the moment my mask of serenity begins to peel.
Use your touch to discover me.
Brush your thumb along my jawbone. Push your palm into the concave of my lower back. Trace your finger along the veins on my shivering arms.
Collide into me with the velocity of a shooting star, graze my bottom lip with your front teeth, and urge your questing tongue into my welcoming mouth.
Use your touch to disarm me.
When you kiss me, hold me not by the hand, but by the wrist. Instead of offering me your lap, present me with your right thigh. Do not caress the back of my neck; curl your fingers around my throat.
Use your touch to enfeeble me.
Press the tip of your cock to the curve of my stomach. Traverse the inside of my leg with the pad of one finger, and halt just as I begin to tremble. Make my cunt need you so much it weeps unrelentingly for you, and let it.
Grant me the right to prove I can take you.
Order me to beg on my knees and shove your dick in my mouth before I can even try. Allow the peak of your length to commune with the back of my throat in reverence and tranquility. Coax my cum-covered tongue past my half-open lips and make me show you.
Demonstrate to me that we are still comrades, even when I am unravelling for you faster than a spool of thread.
Fuck me so silently that we begin to converse without words. Fuck me so leisurely that I know you're showing me mercy - not because I can't take it faster, but because this indulgent slowness allows me to truly get lost in you. Fuck me so deep that you are no longer touching me, you are me.
I'm a dog who twitches with anticipation as his master walks by, hope so strong that he cannot contain it. Taking what I can get, never exhausted of waiting.
So treat me how you wish. I'll never deny you; I might even implore you, but I'll be good. I promise.
Just please touch me.
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hope you liked it! any feedback you have and any inclination to reblog is very much appreciated<3
tagging the usual suspects (love u all) @celestialcrowley @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sad-chaos-goblin @ineffable-rohese @iammyownproblematicfave @bowtiepastabitch @crowleyslvt @dancingcrowley @quoththemaiden @sentientsky
it is also on ao3 here:
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endthedream · 8 months
Text
a sweet melody
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pairing: siren!haechan x human!reader (she/her)
summary: Insanity isn’t what she expected to receive when she joined her father and his crew on an expedition, full of men who think she isn’t capable of anything. But it’s all that she got after seeing nothing but endless water every single day. Maybe that’s why her mind started imagining a strange boy who finally shows her the appreciation she deserves. Maybe that’s why she ignores the way she can’t escape the trance he puts her in whenever he sings a melody for her. Or maybe everything is real, and the boy isn’t who he pretending to be.
words: 12.5k
story colour: green
some warnings:
it’s angst, the word “killing” gets mentioned a few times but nothing happens, heavy manipulation
masterlist of ‘nct dream as super natural creatures’
August 2nd, 1878
Day 25 on sea
I don’t remember the feeling of solid ground under my feet. Grass under my toes, touching stone walls or sleeping in a soft bed that isn’t rocking from the waves crashing against the ship.
I don’t remember the taste of air that isn’t filled with salt. The taste of anything other than fish.
I don’t remember not being nauseous every day, not fighting against boredom, not having to talk to myself in order to stay sane. Having to remind myself that I am me and this expedition isn’t pointless and could possibly make us rich until the day we die.
Father told me to write down my thoughts, he senses that I’m slowly losing my mind. But how can’t I? All I see, day and night, are endless expanses of water. No land in sight. We are miles and miles away from civilization. Alone with the sea and what lays beneath it. That thought can be frightening sometimes.
My brother called me a wimp, told me I should have just stayed at home and let the men handle it. I think he is the one who is a wimp. He’s scared of the power women can hold in a world that is overpowered by men. He doesn’t want me here, thinks I belong only at home like the other women in our city. But I don’t believe that even for one second. I have so much more potential than cooking and taking care of children. I’m an explorer, an adventurer, a researcher. I belong exactly here with my brother, my father and his crew.
I am so much more than all of them point me out to be and I know I can prove exactly that to them. I can prove that women can do all things men have been doing for years, maybe even better. I will prove it, even if it makes me go insane.
August 7th, 1878
Day 30 on sea
I miss my mother. I miss her comforting words, her warm arms and the smell of her perfume. Father misses her too. We talked last night while watching the waves under the moonlit sky. He told me he thinks she is watching over us, protecting us from unknown dangers. He told me that he thinks she is proud of us, especially me, for having the courage to explore the sea. I think he is right. Mother would have loved for us to do the things she always dreamt of doing. Exploring. She always wanted to know what lays beyond the sea, know the secrets behind it and write it all down.
Mother was the creative one in our family. She wrote poems, drew beautiful paintings and crafted useful things out of our waste. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no challenge she couldn’t face. I admired her for that, looked up to her and wanted to be like her. Father says that sometimes he sees a bit of her in me, a bit of her creativity leaking out of my aura, but most of the time I am like him. A big pighead who is way too nosy for their own good. But he also said that this trait will help me on our journey.
“We need people like you.”, he spoke as he looked into the sparkling reflection of the stars on the water. “People who are brave and people who are inquisitive. People who don’t stop when it gets too much and get driven by the passion of wanting to know what lays beneath the unknown. That’s why I want you here.”
“But why did you bring my brother as well? He is nothing like that.” My comment made him let out a quiet laugh, a sound I haven’t heard from him in a while.
“Because he can fight. We need people like that as well.”
Our talk was over after that. He went to sleep, and I stayed up, watching the stars in the dark night sky and thinking about his words. Does he really want me here or is he just being nice to me because I’m his daughter? The others on the ship are not shy to express their dislike for me. I’m not taking it to heart since they care more about my gender than my capabilities. But I care about my father’s opinion. I care what he thinks about me being on this ship with him and if he thinks that I should have stayed at home like everyone else is telling me.
I hope he didn’t lie to me. I hope that his words were sincere, and he actually wants me to be here. Because I think it would shatter me if he didn’t.
I figured I should talk more about my current mental state. Every day I try not to show how much it affects me that even though there are so many people on this ship, I’m still alone. No one wants to talk to me, no one cares about my opinion, and no one wants me here. I spend most of the day watching the ocean, listening to the waves and the birds stopping by. When I see something, an animal or even just seaweed, I write it down and draw a picture of it. It helps me a bit, I think, but I’m not quite sure.
Yesterday a boy, his name is Jisung, let me help him prepare a fish. It was the first time someone had spoken to me without throwing an insult at my head. I haven’t seen him much around the ship since he spends most of the time in the kitchen with his father. But he seemed nice enough, even though as soon as another crew member approached us, Jisung ran away from me, not wanting to be seen with the “intruder”. I wasn’t offended by it, at least I got to eat a nice fish for dinner.
But I’m wandering again. My mental state. I do think I’m getting a bit… well, crazy. But who isn’t? Everyone on this ship is going through the withdrawal of feeling solid ground under their toes and seeing anything other than salt water every single day.
I think we all are slowly losing it.
August 15th, 1878
Day 38 on sea
The air was nice today. It smelled fresher than before, kind of like we entered a new world overnight.
It just felt so clean.
Maybe that’s exactly what I needed, some fresh and clear air, something that removed the mess inside of me as well. Father said that fresh air always helps with an occupied mind. I guess his thesis has been proven right.
I should listen to him more.
He is old and keeps to himself most of the time, but when he actually does talk, it has an impact. Just yesterday two of the men on the boat accidently- in a drunken manor- knocked over two wooden boxes full of fish we haunted, leaving us with not much left. Father was furious, I could tell by the look on his face, but he kept his calm image. He went up to the two men and instead of screaming, he just stared at them for a few minutes. I think his eyes were what intimated them the most.
“You realize what you just did?”, he asked them, and I never heard his voice being so cold. They just nodded their heads, eyes widened like they were deer’s getting hunted by a wolf. “You realize what that means for the two of you?” Hesitation lingered in their demeanor. Clearly, they didn’t know what consequences followed their stupid mistake.
“Since you prevented us from having a week stock of fish, I’m going to do the same to you. That means limited access to food, no alcohol anymore and you are going to clean the boat from front to back. I want to see it spotless. Are we clear?” Again, their heads nodded faster than the wind blowing my hair away. They hurried off after being dismissed, leaving me standing there as father let out a long sigh.
It must be hard, having to be in charge of a bunch of grown men who act like children. And it must be hard seeing your own children having to face some of their own hardships as well. I’m not saying my brother is having a hard time on this ship, I’m saying in general. Someone filled with that much piled up anger, like my brother, must have some troubles they can’t communicate themselves.
It’s not like I have never tried. Talking to him, I mean. I did, plenty of times. But he never listens. And he never talks. I think it is the masculinity they force upon boys these days. It starts in school when they are just little fellows and continues all the way into adult hood. It teaches them not to cry, to hide their emotions and be strong.
I think that is stupid. I think that as human beings we were created to show our emotions. It’s our darn right to let ourselves feel everything freely without having to hide it.
But my brother is taking it seriously, says that the people in school would make fun of him if he’s showing weakness. Weakness. That is stupid. I think that hiding your emotions and building up this wrong image in which you hide behind a made-up strength, is what makes you weak.
I told him that and he just said: “And that’s why you’re a woman. You wouldn’t survive a minute being a man.”
And you wouldn’t survive a minute being a woman either. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to make him more upset, and I especially didn’t want to start a discussion about men and women with him. It is pointless, because no matter what I say, he will never see us as equals.
I wish I were closer to my brother. I wish he wouldn’t have to think about all this stupid stuff. And I wish I could live in a world where I could freely express myself without having to justify my every move.
I wish, I wish, I wish.
August 19th, 1878
Day 42 on sea
We saw dolphins today. They were swimming right beside our ship, jumping high up into the air and whistling at us. It was a magical moment, watching them happily swim, eager to interact with us. I even got to draw a picture of them. And for a moment I forgot that my mind is constantly spinning in a spiral. I just sat there, enjoying the short moment of peace, before it got destroyed.
Some of the men on the ship, clearly drunk, threw bottles at the dolphins, slurring insulting words at them. The dolphins swam away shortly after, but the bottles stayed where they threw them, in the ocean. I was so mad that I went up to one of the men, yelling some pretty mean words as well.
“Are you out of your mind, you drunk filthy piece of shit? Not only did you hurt poor helpless animals that were clearly eager to interact with us, but you also polluted the ocean with your stupid bottles of alcohol. Are you really that messed up in your head to think this was a good idea? I don’t even get why you are on this god forsaken ship. You are clearly not good for anything other than drinking your days away and only caring about yourselves. And you call yourself a man. You are nothing but a pathetic little boy, wanting everyone’s attention. You disgust me, you pig.”
I can’t remember much afterwards, only the stinging feeling against my cheek, a foot against my rip cage and someone yelling to stop. I woke up not long ago. The ship is quiet, so I assume it’s already in the middle of the night and everyone is sleeping, but I’m too scared to look. My body hurts, every time I move only a slight bit, a crushing pain curses through my bones.
When I close my eyes, everything is spinning, so I don’t close my eyes anymore.
I don’t regret what I said to that man. I don’t regret standing up to myself. I had to endure a worse treatment for a longer time and could handle it. It is not my fault that he couldn’t handle a bit of critique. All I hope is that this pain will go away soon. The pain inside and outside.
I’ve been thinking, maybe a bit too much. What if I change my way of thinking? What if instead of letting the ocean hurt me, I will let it heal me? What if instead of letting the loneliness consume me, I will let it lead me? Maybe all I have to do to get better is to change the way I approach this expedition.
And now that I have written it down, I will have to do it. My mother always said words only count when you write them on a piece of paper. In that way it is like a contract, unbreakable. It is like an oath you swear only to yourself, and those should be the most precious ones. She said you should always keep the promises you give to yourself, because after all, at the very end you will always have yourself to count on. Mother was a wise lady. A wise and confident woman, that I always looked up to. She was never afraid to speak her mind and stand up for her beliefs, I admired that side of her so much. And I know my dad also admired that.
Sometimes I forget that he lost his wife, I forget that he is still grieving. Because it looks so easy for him. It doesn’t look like he is compulsively taken of on a ship to “explore the unknown” just to get away from home and the recuring memories of the woman he loved so dearly. It looks like he created a team of the best- that’s arguable- men out there and took of to explore. He looks like a hero, not a broken man.
He hides everything so well. I wish he would have taught me how to do that.
August 20th, 1878
Day 43 on sea
Dad told me not to move too much. He thinks my rips are badly bruised and I need a few days, maybe even a few weeks to heal. We don’t have a qualified doctor on this ship, so I am just putting ice on my ribs and hope they will magically heal.
My brother even came to my room to ask me about my well-being. That was the last thing I expected to be quite honest with you. My brother and I have never had the best relationship. He was never a reliable soul, always easily influenced by others. He is a follower not a leader and that shows in the way he behaves towards others, especially towards me.
“Are you fine?”, he asked me, voice unusually soft. I could see it in his eyes, the pity that lies in them. It looked like he actually cares.
“Forgetting the circumstances, yes, I am fine.” He let out a long and deep breath, a hand stroking back a piece of hair that fell into his eyes. I should have asked him if I should cut his hair for him.
“Okay.”, he just answered, nodding his head before standing up again. “If you need anything, just call for me.” Without looking at me again, he left the room. All I could do after that was smile. It was the first encounter since we were kids that didn’t end up with me wishing I would never have to talk to him again. He may not know how to express what he is really feeling and is scared of voicing his own thoughts, but this small conversation showed me that he may not be all too bad.
August 25th, 1878
Day 48 on sea
I am going crazy. I sit on my bed every single day. I draw, I write, and I stare at the wall.
I can feel my thoughts circle around my brain, nothing makes sense. No one visited me in the past two days, and it makes the urge to get up even worse. I didn’t really have someone to talk to from the beginning, but at least I got to be around some living beings. I didn’t have to bear my own thoughts for such a long time. Now I’m not only alone, but I’m also lonely as well.
I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt about the ship sinking. It was absurd because the men drunk too much and their bellies got so bloated, it made the ship sink. But that wasn’t the frightening part. As I tried to swim for safety, my arms already hurting, I started hearing voices. Not just two, must have been a hundred of them. All of them whispering to me, but I couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell me. I kept swimming and swimming, far behind I saw hills. The voices didn’t stop. It felt like they were entering me, taking over every part of my body. My head felt like it was about to explode into a million pieces. They got louder and louder until I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped swimming, letting myself sink. The water engulfed my whole body, entering my mouth and filling my lungs. The voices got quieter and quieter until there was only one left, loud and clear, telling me to “wake up”.
That’s when I opened my eyes, sweat dripping from my forehead and my breath uncontrollably fast. I never had a dream like that. I never woke up so disorientated. I wanted to tell someone about this dream, have someone explain to me what the meaning behind it is. I wanted to know if I’m really losing my mind.
August 27th, 1878
Day 50 on sea
I am losing my mind.
This can’t be real. I am writing this down to make sure I am wide awake and not dreaming.
I woke up from a noise. At first, I thought I was imagining it, because lately I’ve been imagining a lot of things. I wanted to go back to sleep, being exhausted from, well, doing absolutely nothing all day long, but then I heard it again.
It wasn’t just a noise. It was a melody, a very beautiful one. It sounded like the gateway to heaven, like it was sung by angels. And it made me feel drowsy.
I knew I needed to rest more, but something about this melody pulled me in. It made me forget the throbbing pain in my body and the events that happened days before. All it made me want to do was reach it, engrave it into my skin. It made me want to never hear anything else.
I was in a trance, no thoughts inside my head anymore.
So, I got up, walked out onto the deck of the ship to find out where this melody comes from. But when I reached the deck, I didn’t expect to see a boy sitting on the railing.
But it wasn’t an ordinary boy. Oh, no. Not like the ones I’ve seen in my town growing up. I can’t describe him in any other way than captivating. His jet-black hair softly swayed in the night wind, covering his eyes every few seconds. His cheeks adopted a soft rosy color from the coldness, contrasting the tan of his skin. And his eyes were almost as dark as the night sky.
I don’t know why I stared at him for such a long time, and I don’t know why he let me.
“You’re here.” Those were his first words. The first time I heard his voice. A voice that made time stop for a moment. I couldn’t hear the waves crashing against each other anymore, or the cracking of the old wood the ship was built with. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat pumping against my chest. All I could hear was him. “I was waiting for you.”
“Who are you?” That was not what I wanted to ask him at that moment, but the sane part of my brain must have sensed that something wasn’t right. Something about the way my body reacted to this strange man was dubious.
“Haechan.”, he spoke with a soft voice, turning his body so that he fully faced me. A smirk was placed on his lips, only intensifying his tantalizing physique. “And you are?”
“Y/n.” My name came out in a mere whisper, fearing that my voice might have broken if I spoke any louder. I couldn’t stop staring at him, still having been sure that my mind was playing a trick on me or, well, still is.
For days no one has checked in on me, no one has talked to me more than five words. I’ve been on this ship for way too long seeing nothing but the endless nothingness of the sea. My mind has been plagued with recuring thoughts, never once having a quiet moment. Maybe this is the final sign. Maybe this is it. I am insane. So insane that I’m imagining a boy sitting on the rail of the ship just so that I have someone to talk to.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Reaching one hand out, the boy signaled me to come closer to him. Every part of my body longed to take his hand and sit on the rail with him, but doubts started floating my brain.
“What are you doing here? How did you get on this ship?” Haechan, as I learned his name, just chuckled, a low sound that was so different from his honey voice. He looked amused at my asking, almost like he was making fun of me.
“Why did you come out here, Y/n?” I remember frowning at him, clearly feeling upset that he chose to ignore my question and ask one of his own. I felt upset that this boy, which I probably made up in my mind, didn’t show any respect for me at all. He, just like the others, ignores what I have to say, and I didn’t want to get treated that way, not after what happened last time.
So, instead of answering him, I turned around, heading back to my bed. But before I could even take a step, the melody I heard earlier started again. All the thoughts that I had in my mind at that moment flew away and I was, yet again, caught in a trance. It was like I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to.
“It’s you.”, I whispered, but he still heard me. I knew that because the melody got louder, clearer. I closed my eyes, letting his voice enter every part of my body. I let it fill me up and shut me down at the same time. I let it rearrange my mind and mend my wounds, but I also let it cut me open and bleed me dry. I gave myself into the sweet penetration of his honey laced voice and wanted nothing more than to make all his wishes and desires come true. I would have given him the world if it was possible. My whole body felt like it was floating on top of a cloud, high up in the sky and there was no way of ever coming down again. I was trapped.
“Come closer.”, he murmured, voice deeper and almost impending.
“No.”, I quivered, suddenly scared of ever opening my eyes again.
“Please, Y/n.”, he pleaded, and I could nearly hear the desperation in his voice. “Just please look at me.” And so, I did. He was not sitting on the rail anymore, he was standing right in front of me. A small smile on his lips and one hand stretched out to me. “Come closer please. I don’t want anything else from you.”
And as I was about to take the step towards him, give in to his demand and the growing need inside of me to grant all his wishes, I heard a voice behind me, calling out my name and breaking the trance I was in.
“Y/n?”
Turning around, I saw my brother standing further away from me, dressed in his nightly gown. “What are you doing out of your bed? You should rest, your body isn’t fully healed yet.”
“I was just talking to…” But when I looked for Haechan again, no one was standing there anymore. It was like I was alone all along. “I don’t know what I was doing.”
Suddenly I felt all the pain rush back into my body, my bones burning with fire, and I let out a loud groan as I fell to my knees.
“Y/n.” My brother rushed towards me, helping me up with his arms around me. “For someone who always seems so smart, you really aren’t the brightest.” I couldn’t even laugh at his words, my mind was too focused on the pain all over my body.
“You must have been sleep walking if you can’t remember what you were doing up there.” My brother said as he laid me back down into my bed and reached into a bucket of water to put a wet rag on my forehead. “Sleep now, okay? I will stop by in the morning again and check on you.” All I could do was nod my head at him, exhaustion consuming my body. He looked at me one last time before he left my room again.
And now I’m sitting here, writing in my foolish dairy and reminiscing about the strange boy I met. I must have imagined him. How could anyone come up onto the ship? I didn’t see another boat, nor did any other member of the crew. And the possibility of someone appearing out of the blue is also not likely.
The only possibility that is left is that I am losing my mind. That I imagined all of it out of pure loneliness and frustration. This expedition should have been educational for me. It should have proven to all the men that I, as a woman, can do what they can do. That I can be an explorer, a brave one even, and that I have the ability to find something new. That is why we started this journey, because we wanted to discover unknown things.
But all I am doing now is proving everyone exactly what they think of me, that I am small and weak. That I am not an explorer and that I should have just stayed at home. That I am not brave and definitely not smart. I proved to them that I am fragile and well, mental.
But no one has to know about it. No one has to know what happens in my head or the things I imagine. No one has to know I am practically insane and desperate. I could just simply fake it. Isn’t that what everyone does? Faking confidence.
Maybe if I fake it long enough and convince everyone that what they are saying and thinking about me is wrong, I might convince myself as well. Maybe I can convince my brain I’m fine while pretending to be.
So, from now on, everything’s okay. I am not insane, and I certainly am not imagining weird things.
I am okay.
Everything is okay.
August 29th, 1987
Day 52 on sea
Everything is not okay.
Yesterday the boy didn’t show up again. I wasn’t exactly looking for him, since my father spent most of the night in my room making sure I wouldn’t ‘sleep-walk’ again, but I can’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed not to hear his beautiful melody again.
I asked my dad if there is a word for the feeling of craving for someone, for feeling like the person took a part of you with them when they left and you long to be reunited with them. When all your thoughts are consumed with them, and your body is itching to be in the mere presence of that person. But also fearing the actual return of that person and the power they hold over you and your emotions. He told me it is called “withdrawal”.
“It is mostly referred to drugs such as alcohol.”, he explained to me as he tried to brush out the knots in my hair. “But I think it can be applied to humans as well. You know, sometimes we long for people we can’t have or people that aren’t good for us. We see the signs, but we ignore them. We give in to the sweet yearning and get hurt in the process. But if we don’t give in and the yearning grows stronger, we crave it even more. We think about the person every day, imagine their scent, their eyes, their voice. We imagine them being in a room with us, talking and laughing with us. We do the things that are most painful to us just to have what we long for, even if we know it’s not good for us. And it hurts, physically and emotionally.”
I turned around to look at him, inspect his face and read what he was feeling when he said those things. “It sounds like you have experience with that feeling.” My father just shrugged and at that moment he looked older. He looked like an old man who has been through too much in his life. A man who deserves a break.
“I’ve been around much longer than you, dear. There were mistakes made and hearts torn, but it all worked out at the end.”
“How?”, I ask, curious as to how such a sad feeling still turned into something good.
“Because I got you, and your brother. That’s my happy ending.” I wanted to cry. I wanted to storm into his arms and never let him go. But I didn’t do any of those things. I just smiled at him, nodded my head and hoped that was enough for him. Because while his words filled my heart to the brim with love, my body still ached, not from the pain but for the boy I only met once in my life.
That’s why I tried to ignore the melody a few hours ago when it started again. Father went back to his bed a few minutes before, wanting to get some well-deserved sleep, leaving me alone in my room. I, as well, wanted to get some rest, but then I heard it. It was loud and clear, and more beautiful than I had remembered it to be. Almost immediately I felt my whole mind switch, forgetting the conversation I had had with my father. All that was in my head was him, Haechan.
I wanted to see him, no, I needed to see him. I felt lost without him, so empty and incomplete. I felt like my world wasn’t spinning correctly, time was going backwards, and the stars were falling out of the sky. Nothing felt right anymore. Not until I was with him.
I reached my door, but before I could open it something woke me up. Not from a dream, but from a trance. A smell, a very familiar one. It took up all my senses and brought me back to reality.
I realized what I was about to do and quickly sat back down on my bed, not daring to even set a foot on the floor anymore. It was frightening, what I felt just then. The longing I felt, just from one simple melody. I don’t know this boy, why would I feel so strongly about him? Why does he have so much power over my emotions?
His melody got louder. For a moment my head felt like it was exploding. He sounded sad, sorrowful. It broke my heart into pieces hearing him so vulnerable, longing for me the same way I was longing for him. But I didn’t give in. A part of me, I don’t know which one, knew it was wrong to see him again. So, I stayed on my bed, legs tightly pressed against my chest and my hands on my ears, trying to cover his despairing voice.
10 minutes ago, it stopped. It just went away, like it was never there in the first place. Curiosity almost got the best of me and wanted to check if he really left, but I was too scared, I still am.
I don’t know what he is doing to be, why he is here and why he is targeting me. But I know that whatever he is doing, it can’t be with good intentions. A person that makes another person feel such outrageous things, can’t be here for anything good.
Maybe it shouldn’t matter so much. Because, after all, I made him up. He isn’t real so whatever he is doing isn’t going to hurt me. I think my mind is reflecting this pain on me to make sense of why it’s slowly decapitating. It’s trying to distract me from the actual damage in my brain.
At least that is the only logical answer to all of this. Because anything other would be, well, crazy and I’m not crazy. I might lose my mind, but I am not crazy.
August 30th, 1878
Day 53 on sea
Maybe I am a bit crazy, and reckless, and irresponsible and plain stupid.
“You left me standing here for a long time yesterday. I missed you, darling.” But I couldn’t help myself but visibly relaxing as I heard his voice again.
It was all I could think about all day long. Him and his melody. I wanted to feel it again. Feel it in my veins, feel it shutting out all the thoughts in my head. I just wanted this bothering craving to go away. I think it got so bad that even Jisung, someone who barely talks to me, noticed it.
“Are you okay? Don’t you like the food?”, he asked as he watched me stare at the food in front of me.
“Oh, sorry. It’s not the food, don’t worry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” I gave him a little smile, grabbing a fork and shoving some food in my mouth.
“Is there a reason behind it? I hope it wasn’t me.” Jisung looked a bit guilty as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent the whole night cooking because I also couldn’t sleep. I hope I wasn’t too loud and kept you awake.”
“Oh, so that was what I smelled yesterday.” Internally, I couldn’t help but to be grateful for the boy sitting in front of me. After all, was he the reason why I didn’t give in to see Haechan. But I couldn’t tell him that. I was already glad someone decided to speak to me, I didn’t want to ruin it by my insanity. “But no, that was not what kept me up. I mean I smelled it, but I just had too much going on inside my mind to rest.”
The boy just nodded his head, shoving a fork full of food in his mouth. “Care to share some of your thoughts?”, he says with his mouth still full of food. He looked like a child in that moment, with his eyes wide and his mouth dirty with crumps.
“Just thinking a lot more about my mother lately.”, I told him, only half lying. Mother has been on my mind a lot lately, but that obviously wasn’t the reason why I couldn’t sleep. “I miss her. I mean I always miss her, but being so far away from home just makes me miss her more. You know, I see her everywhere. In the books I read, the words I write. I see her in the ocean, feel her in the air and smell her in every scent. It’s bizarre.”
“No, it’s not.”, Jisung disagreed, putting his fork down and propping his elbow up on the table to lean his face on his hand. “I miss my mother too. I mean, she isn’t dead, but her and my father are no longer together. She left with my sister, my father kept me, and I haven’t seen her in three years. I miss her too sometimes. But I think I miss the things she did for me more than I miss her. When I was a child, I always had trouble falling asleep so she would always tell me a bedtime story. I think that is why some nights I can’t seem to fall asleep.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Jisung. Next time you have trouble sleeping just get me. I can also tell you bedtime stories.”
He nodded yet again, showing me another one of his smiles. “Thank you, Y/n. And you know what? I think you are really brave. I wanted to say that to you earlier, but I never had the guts to actually do. I think that we can all be grateful that someone like you joined this expedition. We really need more smart crewmates on this ship.”
But I don’t think I am that smart anymore. I don’t think I even deserve to be called smart anymore. Because every single thing about the decisions I make is anything other than smart. And as I looked into the deep brown eyes of the boy in front of me, that only got confirmed.
“No answer? No ‘I missed you too’?” His voice had an alluring tone, soothing all the wounds inside me and doing things to my body I am too embarrassed to admit. “What a shame, sweet girl. I was pretty sure I could sense your longing for me yesterday. Maybe I was wrong.”
I didn’t know what to answer. And I honestly am glad I didn’t, positive that my voice would have come out in nothing but a pathetic whisper. Haechan was walking closer to me again, reaching his hand out again to hover over the skin of my arm but never touching me.
“Can you feel that?”, he whispers, eyes never leaving mine. “Can you feel the goosebumps slowly forming on your skin, the shiver down your spin?” He waited for me to answer him, but all I could do was nod. “Words, sweetheart.”
“Yes.” I answered him, voice cracking with that one simple word. “Yes, I can feel that.”
“Good. That is exactly what I want you to feel.” He took a few steps back again, so he was leaning against the railing. “Why did you decide to come here tonight? Couldn’t get enough of me?”
I just shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing myself what the actual reason behind me coming to see him again was. “Why do you keep calling for me?”
“Calling for you? How exactly am I calling for you?” Cocking his head to the side, still wearing a smirk on his lips. But I don’t want to get too detailed about his face, still feeling a bit embarrassed of the things I felt in that moment.
“The melody your singing, it’s for me. You are calling me with your melody.” A chuckle left his lips, melodic like his voice.
“How can you be so sure of that? What if I just like to sing pretty melodies?” His question sounded so innocent and for a moment I was uncertain about my statement, fearing I might have misinterpreted everything. But I knew what I was feeling. I knew that his melody was meant to be for me and no one else. I know it might sound crazy, but the thought of him singing this melody, my melody, for someone else felt unsettling.
“Because if you sung it for someone else, they would stand here instead of me. No one else is responding to your melody, only me, so it must be for me.” For a few seconds there was nothing but silence around us. Haechan wasn’t saying a thing, seeming like he was thinking about his next words. And I didn’t say anything, fearing that if I might, he would disappear again.
“You’re right.”, he finally spoke up. “It is for you.”
“But why? Why do you sing this melody for me?”
“Because I wanted to meet you, Y/n. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I got to have you. I got to be with you. I craved nothing more than to talk to you, to simply be blessed to be in the mere presence of you. I am longing for you, the same way you are longing for me, my love.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. His words filled up my heart, and I started feeling lightheaded.
He was craving for me. He wanted to meet me. Everything that I am feeling towards him, as strange as those emotions are, he is feeling for me as well. His words were the most beautiful, heart wrenching thing I have ever heard in my inter life. I felt lucky to be seen this way, to be wanted this way, never actually having had someone tell me that before.
He really went all this way, just to meet me. Singing this melody, coming up this ship. But isn’t it a bit strange as well? I remembered not seeing another ship anywhere nearby. Where did he come from? How did he see me? Questions started filling my mind again, shaking me awake.
“What did you mean when you said you wanted to meet me from the first time you saw me? When did you see me?” I could see his body tensing up. Maybe he wasn’t expecting such a question.
“I can answer your question, but first you have to come with me. Please, Y/n. I will tell you everything, just please come with me. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”
“Haechan.” I looked at his hand, which was reaching for me again, motioning me to take it in mind. “Where do you want to take me? I mean there is no other ship anywhere near.”
“Y/n, just trust me, okay? Come with me and I will make the thoughts in your head disappear. I will make everything heal for you.” His hands hovered over my arms again, almost as if he couldn’t touch me. I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me so badly. But I could see that something in his eyes had changed. They were darker, more desperate and demanding, and I knew it was my time to leave.
“I can’t.”, I told him, taking a few steps back. “I have to get up early tomorrow.” And with that I left, not once looking back as I walked back into my room.
I don’t know if what I did was right, or if I upset him with my behavior.
All I hope for is that he isn’t mad at me and will forgive me when he comes back. If he comes back.
August 31st, 1878
Day 54 on sea
He did in fact come back.
“Missed me?” There was something more gentle in the way he was talking to me today. Something more reserved.
“What if I did?” That made him smile, not smirk like he normally does. Haechan showed me a bright honest smile. And all I could think about was that he never looked more ethereal than in that moment.
“Then I will be highly pleased, my love. You know why?” I shook my head as a no, waiting for him to continue his sentence. “Because I missed you too?”
“You did?”
“Of course, I did. You were all I could think about all day long, pretty girl.” He stayed a bit further away from me too today and I wondered why. I asked myself if he didn’t want to be close to me again or if he felt rejected after what happened yesterday. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your sweet smile, your beautiful eyes and your lovely voice. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
“Why don’t you touch me?”, I said out of the blue, catching not only myself, but him off guard as well. “You never touch me. You only hover your hands above my skin. Why?”
He smiled again, sweet and kind. “Because if I touch you once, I will never be able to stop again.”
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” He only shook his head, turning around to face the stars instead of me. But I didn’t want him to look away, I wanted him to look at me, because when he does look at me, I can feel again.
“I am sorry about yesterday, you know? I am sorry I was too intrusive, I let myself get caught up in my emotions.” I had to process his words, that being the last thing I thought would come out of his mouth. Never once had a men apologized to me for anything. I am so used to getting treated like nothing and it being normal in a society like the one I grew up with. Never once has anyone cared so much about me to consider my emotions and apologize for a mistake.
“Thank you.”, I just whispered, trying to swallow the tears. “That means a lot to me.” I decided to join him at the rail, watch the stars with him for a little while.
“Do you know that I think you are not real? I think I am imagining you, because for the past weeks I have been slowly losing my mind. Seeing the same things every day, not talking to anyone and having to deal with all those thoughts in my head. I think I started imagining you so I could just stop time for a while.”
“But I am real.”, he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I am real. You are not insane, and you are definitely not imagining me. I can prove that to you. Just take my hand and you will see.”
“Why does that feel like a trap?”, I asked him, watching his face, trying to read his emotions. But it stayed the same. His smile didn’t butch for a second and his eyes still held the same gentleness.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Y/n. There is no trap. I am just offering you evidence to your lingering questions about your own sanity. I am just trying to be nice to you, but if you don’t appreciate that.”
“No, no I do. I am grateful for your kindness. You just sounded so demanding, and it made me doubtful.”
“I am so sorry, my sweet girl. It was never my intention to make you doubt me. That will never happen again, okay? All I want is the best for you. Nothing more.” I just nodded, eyes facing the wooden floor of the ship. “I am going to tell you the story of why I so desperately wanted to talk to you, since I didn’t yesterday. Maybe that will cheer you up a bit again.”
“I wanted to talk to you because I was mesmerized by you. Because there are not a lot of people out there like you. People so willing to learn and to explore. I never met a woman like you, someone so strong minded and independent. I loved how you never let anyone talk bad to you and I love how despite the negative things the men on this ship say about you, you still stay here. You prove to them every day that you are capable of being on such an expedition and that you are more qualified than they could ever be. And I just knew I had to talk to you, I had to have you in my life.”
And it was like he knew what I needed to hear. Like he knew my deepest darkest thoughts and all the things I was craving to ever be told by someone. It was like he spoke right into my soul and built up this newfound strength. I felt empowered, I felt loved. But yet again, I was also wondering how he could know all those things about me.
“Why do you know all that, Haechan?”
“I told you already, Y/n. I was longing for you.” It didn’t make sense. His answer didn’t make any sense. Was he avoiding my question? Or maybe he understood the question wrong, thinking this was an answer that would satisfy me. But it didn’t.
“That doesn’t answer my question. How can you possibly know about all those? We just met.”
I could hear a sigh leaving his lips, the long and frustrated kind. I am familiar with those, having heard them a thousand times from my father and brother. And I asked myself if I, yet again, upset him with my question. If I should have just kept quiet and appreciated his kind words and moved on from the topic.
“And yet again you don’t appreciate my kindness. All I do is be nice to you, proving to you that I am real and trustworthy, and you still doubt me. Don’t you know how much that hurts me? Do you?” His voice rose visibly, nostrils flaring and eyes growing wider. Haechan wasn’t looking like himself at that moment. He almost looked inhumane.
“I am sorry, Haechan. Please don’t say that. I do trust you. Please, I’m sorry.”, I started begging him, reaching for his hand, which he pulled away. “Please.” Tears filled my eyes and my whole body started hurting again, like it was slowly breaking apart from the inside out.
“You hurt me, Y/n. I don’t think your apology can fix this.”
And this time it was him walking away, disappearing into the darkness, and leaving me standing at the same spot, mourning for him like I had just lost a person to death.
September 1st, 1878
Day 55 on sea
I could see the surprise on his face when he saw me standing there, waiting for him this time, not needing his melody to be called. But the look of surprise quickly faded away and a smirk replaced it instead.
“I see you don’t even need my melody anymore.” It almost sounded cocky the way he said it.
“I wanted to be here first so I could apologize to you.”, I spoke the words with so much sincerity, wanting him to believe me and see that I genuinely mean the apology. “I am really sorry for hurting your feelings yesterday. It was never my intention. All I want to do is make you happy, Haechan, and I am so sorry that I failed to do so.”
He looked at me for a few seconds, brows raised, before he shrugged his shoulders. “What will you do if I don’t accept your apology?”
I didn’t hesitate when I spoke my next words. “I will beg for your forgiveness. I will beg until you accept my apology. I will do anything you want me to.”
“Anything I want you to?”, he asked, and I just nodded my head at him, desperation fulling my actions and probably written all over my face. “I will hold onto that one.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?” Haechan shrugged again, taking a few steps forward into my direction. Looking at him in that moment, I didn’t think he looked hurt. Normally people have this look on their face when their feelings got hurt, quivering lips, wide and sad eyes, body folding in on itself. But Haechans eyes were almost narrowed, and he was towering over me, almost like he was looking down at me. My father once told me people do that to prove their dominance over the other person, but I don’t think that was what Haechan wanted to do in that moment. Or was it?
Maybe Haechan is just like my brother, a person who has to hide their true feelings behind a stone-cold face to demonstrate strength. Or maybe he just didn’t want me to see him hurt by me to make me feel less guilty. Because I was and still am feeling bad for making him feel that way yesterday. I still regret my words and wish I would have just shut my mouth. I should do that more often, shutting my mouth in some situations. It would have saved me from a lot of things.
“I’m still thinking about it. Maybe I will tell you my answer at the end of the night.” That gave me some hope. Even though he didn’t yet accept my apology, he still wanted to spend time with me and that was more than enough for me.
“I saw you talking to that Jisung guy again today.” Haechan was still towering over me, hands in the pockets of his pants and eyes narrowing in on my face. “What is so intriguing about him that you talk so much to him?”
“Did you watch me?”, I asked him, shock lacing my voice. Jisung and I only talked in the kitchen today. I was hungry since I overslept in the morning and didn’t have breakfast. When I walked into the kitchen to grab myself something, Jisung was standing there, preparing the fish for dinner. We spent some time together, me eating my food and him cooking more. There wasn’t a lot of conversation, we just basked in the presence of each other.
“I asked you a question first.”, Haechan voice got lower again. I could only describe it as sinister. There was an undertone in that one small sentence, something that told me I should not say the wrong thing. So, I took a moment to gather my thoughts, fight through the mess in my head and find an answer that will satisfy him.
“He isn’t interesting to me.”, I tell him, keeping my voice clear and loud. “He is just the only person that talks to me when you aren’t here. There is nothing more to it.”
“It didn’t look like that earlier, sweetheart. I thought the two of you looked very cozy in that kitchen, sneaking glances at each other.” He let out a sound similar to a ‘tsk’ and shook his head in a mocking manner. “Am I not enough for you anymore? Do you go around and search for other men when I’m not around? Are you so desperate and needy for attention?”
“No.”, I whispered, feeling even the small last bit of confidence leaving my body. Haechan has a way of making me feel weaker and weaker, draining every last thought out of my head and making my body his. “No, Haechan.”
I felt my legs give him, sinking to my knees. My body felt so heavy but at the same time so light. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, lowering his head so he was looking right into my eyes. “You can’t talk to other men, Y/n. You are mine only, do you understand?” All I could do was nod my head at him, but that didn’t satisfy him. “You belong to me, right, my sweet girl? I need you to say it.”
“I belong to you.”, I mumbled, not having the strength to fully open my mouth.
“That is right. You belong to me, your body belongs to me and even your mind belongs to me. You are all mine, pretty princess.” He took up all my senses. I could only see him, smell him, hear him, feel him everywhere. Like only he excited in this world and no one else.
Haechan leaned forward, his lips brushing the skin of my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and it sent shivers down my back. “Now come with me, darling. Take my hand and come with me. I will make sure you remember me forever.”
I reached for his hand, fingers brushing against each other, but before I could close them around his, a bright light shined a bit further away from us. Everything happened so fast after that. I heard footsteps, a voice and suddenly I felt empty. Haechan was no longer kneeling in front of me and right as I wanted to look for him, my body gave in, and I fainted onto the cold wooden floor.
I don’t know how I got into my bed, and I don’t know who brought me into my bed. All I know is that the moment I woke up again I craved Haechan even more than I did before and I know that the next time he asks me to come with him, I will do so, without any hesitation.
September 2nd, 1878
Day 56 on sea
Everything changed today. Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I felt. A lie.
I can’t stop crying. My tears are flowing like an endless waterfall. I’m a mess, a disaster. How could I let this all happen? I thought I was smarter than this. I thought I was stronger than this. But I was blinded. I was corrupted, manipulated, used.
I feel dirty, like I haven’t washed in weeks. But I just did. I spent a long time trying to scrub away the dirt I felt, trying to scrub away the shame I felt. I put everyone, especially me, in danger with my reckless behavior, with my blindness, with my incompetence. I am a failure.
I spent the whole day ignoring everyone around me, not even looking at anyone that passed me by. I wanted to desperately prove to Haechan that I only want him and no one else, that everyone on this ship doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is him. I was hoping he was watching me again, being proud of me.
But unfortunately, there was one person I couldn’t avoid even if I tried to.
“You wanted to speak to me, father.”, I said as I entered my father’s office room. I have never been in that room, not once over all these weeks. The room was scattered in books, empty bottles and maps of the sea. I always imagined the room to be neater, at least that was what my father always seemed to be. But my mother told me once that your room reflects the mental state you were in. Maybe my father was also struggling with his sanity.
“Yes.”, he answered me, looking up from his book. “I wanted to see how you are feeling, after your little incident yesterday.”
“I’m feeling fine, father. Must have been me sleep walking again. There is nothing to worry about.”
He just hummed, his face showing the uncertainty he felt because of my words. My father mustered me for a few seconds, waiting for even a little muscle to twitch in my face to show him if I was lying. But I kept a straight face, looking him right into the eyes. “I am thrilled to hear that. And we will find a way to fix your nightly problem.”
Father went back to reading in his book, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, the curious part of me wondered what he was so engrossed in. I always loved the books my father reads, knowing that they are filled with new knowledge. “What are you reading?”
He held up the book, showing me the cover. “Knowledge about the mysteries of the ocean.”, I read out loud, furrowing my eyebrows at the title. What an odd book, I have never heard about that. “What mysteries are listed in the book?”
“Oh, just some fisher men tales. Mermaids, kraken, leviathan, sirens. All those tales which warn everyone on ships about the dangers of the sea.”
“Sirens? I have never heard of them. What are they?” My father turned his book around, showing me the page, he was just reading. On it was a drawn picture of what looked to be a half bird, half fish creature. My stomach started to turn, the longer I looked at it, frightened by its appearance.
“This book says that sirens are mythical creatures, half bird, half fish. Through their angelic singing they lure in fishermen to kill them. It is said that their voice lures them in, but their face is what makes the fishermen stay.”
“Their face?”, I asked, not believing that for a second.
“They put you in a trance with their voice and make you see whoever you most desire. They are insidious, malicious creatures, feared by everyone who ever entered the ocean. They are dangerous, Y/n.” He looked me in the eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t. As if he wanted to tell me more with the last sentence.
“Do you really believe they exist? To me that just sounds like fishermen making up excuses as to why they didn’t bring any fish home.”
My father let out a long sigh, head shaking. He turned the book back to him and stared at the picture for a few more seconds, before closing the book again. “You could be right, Y/n. I mean you have always been the realistic one in this family. But as long as there is no proof that they don’t exist, I will have to believe those tales. It’s better to believe and find out they don’t exist, than to not believe and find out they do exist.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about his words after I left his office. They kept spinning around my head, swirling and clashing against other thoughts. And they were connecting. My thoughts were connecting together, and suddenly there was only one thought left. One person in my mind, and not for the reasons he had been in my mind for the past few days.
But I didn’t want to admit that. Not even to myself. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t true. Those useless tales were nothing but fiction, made up stories to save the fishermen from embarrassment and disappointment. Nothing more and nothing less.
Because I knew Haechan. I knew he wasn’t capable of something like that. He wasn’t a creature designed to prey on innocent people. Or was he?
I couldn’t help but smile as I heard the familiar melody, as I felt it sink deep under my skin and erase everything inside of me. I loved the pain it inflicted on my heart, the way the melody ripped me apart into a million pieces. I loved how for the first few seconds everything stopped being important to me. Breathing, feeling, living. Nothing felt important for a few seconds. Nothing but him.
Haechan leant against the rail of the ship, hands in his trousers and a smirk on his lips. It almost felt like a déjà-vu. I remembered how I felt when I first saw him. Feelings that were once so innocent and unfamiliar are now unconditional and fierce. “My pretty girl.”, he whispered, and I felt the weight on my shoulders lift. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”, I asked, taking a few steps closer to him. I was craving his closeness, his touch. I needed him to touch me, anywhere. I didn’t mind where.
“Ready to come with me.” My head was clouded, brainwashed by his beautiful voice. But wasn’t that exactly what my father told me, what he warned me about. “I can see your doubt in me, sweetheart. What is it that is plaguing your beautiful mind?”
“Do you plan on killing me?” I don’t know why I asked him that question. I don’t know how I got the strength to break out of the haze, even just a little bit.
“Killing you? Why would I kill you?” His eyes darkened and I could see his body language changing. I could see all of him changing. Haechan let out a chuckle before walking into my direction, stopping when he was right behind me. Brushing my hair back, never once touching me, as he leant down to whisper into my ear.
“I really wanted to kill you at first, my sweet girl. I wanted nothing else but to rip you apart.” My body shut down, letting me fall weakly to my knees just like the day before. I couldn’t keep my eyes open for more than five seconds. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, yet again and placed his hand on my cheek. Finally, I could feel him. I could feel the one thing I craved most, his touch. But it didn’t feel how I imagined it to. Instead of lifting me up and making me basked in comfort, it made me flinch. His touch made me want to never see the light of day ever again. “But how could I kill such a beautiful thing? You are my precious girl, aren’t you? So sweet and special.”
I wanted to run, get away from him. I wanted to do anything but to stay with him, but my body didn’t let me. My body stayed down on the ground, heavy and useless. “Does it hurt, love? Does my touch and my words hurt you?” He didn’t need an answer because he knew. He knew how every bone in my body felt like it was on fire as soon as he muttered those words. He knew all I wanted was to make this growing pain stop. “Just come with me. I will make the pain stop.”
When I looked up at him, I saw only a glimpse of him. His skin was pale blue, scales all over it, and his teeth were sharp and long. This wasn’t the boy I met a few nights ago, the boy who made me feel like I was floating on the clouds and the boy who gave me a reason to live. This was a creature, a monster. A siren.
“Go away.”, I croaked out with the last strength I had left in my body.
“Oh no, you poor thing. Don’t be like that.” Not even his voice sounded like the sweet melody I once heard. It didn’t give me sweet pleasure anymore, it only gave me pain. “You love me, or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten all the feelings I inflicted on you? Have you forgotten how good you felt when you were with me? I can make that come back. You just have to come with me.”
“Go to hell.” I didn’t know that this simple sentence could mean the end of my life because the next thing I felt was a sharpness going through my body. And I knew this would be it. This would be the last few seconds before I was gone.
“Y/n!”, I heard someone shout, loud and piercing. I opened my eyes, only to have my vision be blurry. I tried to move, look who that voice belonged to and if I was imagining it again. “Go away and never come back, or I will have you killed and each and everyone of you creatures on this planet.”
I took a hurtful breath and it felt as if my lungs were filled with broken pieces of glass. My eyes tried to stay open, but I didn’t have the strength. “No, Y/n. Stay awake. Please don’t leave me.”
Whiteness surrounded me, filling me up and taking me in. Silence. I heard nothing more than silence. I tried looking around, kicking and fighting as I was trapped in nothing but endless vastness. Far away from me I could see something, or someone waiting for me. I tried to walk towards it, reaching my arms out to grab it, but I never came close.
“It’s not your time yet, Y/n.” And before I could question those words, my eyes opened.
It took me a few seconds to regain my vision, seeing the familiar walls of my room. As I remembered just what had happened, I felt panic filling my body, my breaths coming out faster than normal and my mind spiraling in wild circles.
“It’s okay, Y/n.”, I heard the voice of my father first before I felt his arms around my body, pulling me tightly into him. “Your safe. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”
I looked up at him with wide eyes and my mouth agape. I felt like a little kid again, crying in the arms of my father after having a bad dream. Just that this wasn’t a dream. This is reality.  
“It’s okay. We are on our way back home. That creature will never find you again, we made sure of that, okay?” My father held me with so much delicacy, fearing he might break me. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone, or anything hurt you again.”
And I believed him. There in the arms of my father I believed his words. So, I closed my eyes, let the sleep consume me and hoped that this promise would be one he could keep.
September 10th, 1878
Day 64 on sea
I let the salt air take away all the scars of the past weeks as I watched the soft waves flow under the setting sun. This was the first time in eight days that I had the courage to leave my room. I couldn’t face the place where everything happened. The place where I almost lost myself.
I closed my eyes and imagined the soft grass under my toes, the chirping birds in my ear and the blinding sunlight in my eyes. I imagined biting into a sweet apple, feeling the fresh morning air on my skin and smiling at the veracity of the moment.
“Daydreaming again?”, I heard a voice in front of me, making an actual smile appear on my lips. A smile I haven’t let myself show in a long time.
“What brings you out here? Shouldn’t you be in your bed, sleeping like everyone else is?” Jisung just shrugged his shoulders, his hair softly swaying in the wind.
He showed me a sweet smile, sitting down beside me and taking one of my hands in his. “I am not going to ask you how are doing, since everyone else does that every day.” I nodded at him, grateful for not hearing the repeating question out of his mouth as well. “But I am going to ask you if you still feel the withdrawal, you told me about.”
My eyes filled with tears again and I tried my best to swallow them down. “Yes.”, I mumbled, looking down, too ashamed to let him see me this way. To let him see me so weak and pathetic. “Yes, I still feel it, every day. I long for him, and I know it isn’t right. He isn’t who he showed me to be. I know I was blinded by a trance. I was blinded by need. I know what I am feeling isn’t right and that he wasn’t right. But for a few seconds, for a few seconds every day, it felt real. For a few seconds every day I could just be. I could be me. I could forget the pain and my thoughts, and I could breathe.”
Jisung just nodded his head, not letting go of my hand, but he didn’t say a word. I appreciated that. I appreciated the quietness of him. Because as opposed to the others, he didn’t lecture me on my feelings. He didn’t tell me how it is wrong to feel the way I do and how I should have seen all this coming. He didn’t try to tell me how to move past this, or how to continue living my life. Jisung just stayed silent.
“Why are you awake?”, I asked him after a few moments, breaking the silence he gifted me.
“I couldn’t sleep. And the last time I told you about my sleeping problems, you told me you could tell me a story, like my mother did. A bedtime story to make me fall asleep.” I let the tears that still lingered in my eyes roll down my cold cheeks, as I nodded my head. “Will you tell me one?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I will tell you any story you want.”
And so, I did.
I told everyone my story.
Bonus
“What took you so long?”
Haechan swam into the cave, brushing past everyone that was looking at him with expecting eyes. He ignored them all and just kept swimming.
“Answer my question.”, Jeno spoke louder this time, but Haechan just kept swimming. He didn’t care that everyone was waiting for him, waiting for him to fulfill his promise, to fulfill all the promises he had made for the past weeks.
“We had a fight.”, he told Jeno with a shrug of his shoulders, nonchalant about the other one’s questions. Haechan could see the disappointment and anger in the faces of everyone in the cave, and he couldn’t care less. He knew what he was doing was right. He knew it was necessary to go through all these lengths to get what he wanted, what everyone wanted.
“A fight?”, his friend repeated, skeptic lingering in his voice. “This isn’t a game, Haechan. We put our trust and time in your hands. How long until this plan of yours backfires? How long until they notice that their ship hasn’t been moving in days? How long until they discover us and put an end us?”
“Jeno.”, Haechan’s eyes piercing into the older boy, voice clearly stating a warning. “Have you lost all your trust in me? I know what I am doing.”
“Are you?” Everyone was looking at the two, anticipating the outcome of this long-awaited conversation. “You were the one promising us you were going to get us this girl. You were the one convincing us how much you were craving her and how much we should as well. And we have given you time, but all you do is play around. This isn’t a game, Haechan. This will determine our lives. Without her, we will not survive, and you are very well aware of that.”
“This is where you are wrong, my dear friend.” Haechan turned his body, facing all the sirens watching him. “This is a game, and I am the leader of it. This girl we are talking about is different from everyone we have ever had. This one is special. She isn’t easily fooled by my tricks, by my voice. She has a smart mind, that one.” A wide grin appeared on the siren’s lips, making him almost look crazy, and his eyes narrowed on his friend yet again. “This one will bring us everything we have ever dreamt of. And it will work. The game I am playing, the fight we were having today, it will all work in the end.”
“How can you be so sure of that?” The question lingered in the quiet of the cave, the eyes of everyone looking at Haechan, faith and trust all in his hands.
“Because it is all going according to plan.”, he announced, voice thick with pride and confidence. “It is all going according to my plan.”
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useless-donut · 9 months
Text
so i was messing around with astarion and the description for his camp clothes includes a POEM HE EMBROIDERED ON IT he is so cute such a cute little gay
anyway as someone bent on cataloging everything he approves of, i have a decent grasp of what he likes and dislikes (at least in act 1, im almost to act 2) and it can SEEM contradictory but my thoughts and also spoilers below
sometimes hes just being a brat, like when he likes when you care for the owlbear cub, but also likes when you poke a dying bird to death (my theory here is less that he loves animals/hates them and more that he enjoys the chaos of an owlbear pet)
so generally speaking, he's pretty forgiving of a good (ish) path for a generally evil character, though if i had to pick an alignment, i'd say he's something like chaotic selfish
then there's the whole disliking any sympathy/aid for the deep gnomes/prisoners in general which had me thinking because we all know the cazador situation but here are my unorganized thoughts
astarion was jumped by a group of Gur & essentially killed
his "savior" was a vampire who enslaved and tortured him for 200 years
so it stands to reason that
he has a significant distrust & dislike of "saviors" in general, both because no one saved him and moreso because when someone DID it was horrible
he also dislikes heroics not so much because he's evil, but because they are a) boring and b) heroes are people like the Blade of the Frontiers/Wyll, the monster hunter, all of these are people who typically want to kill him for what he is
OF COURSE he disapproves whenever you act heroic/saviory, it's showing you're the type of person he categorically mistrusts
and also re: the gnome issue, i think he's also just really really BITTER. he doesn't want other people saved because fuck saviors and heroes, right? let everyone rot because everyone let him rot
(this is all just my fun little conjecture/headcanons based on what we know in act 1, i am ready to stand corrected)
anyway, we know he does have a soft side and even though he is very leery of deep bonds (jokingly says "i love you," gets weird and suspicious whenever you're altruistic to him), he does appreciate kindness. and i really think he's getting fond of the party despite himself
i'm hoping we will get a cazador betrayal arc bc itll be so dramatic and heartbreaking itll be so funnnn
but yeah imo he is a bitter, traumatized person who is self-interested by matter of necessity and very reasonably wants vengeance. BUT he is also someone who deeply appreciates being alive, and enjoying things like sunlight and poetry and even your company. and he deeply mourns everything he's lost along the way 🥺 AND DESPITE IT ALL HE IS SO SILLY AND "GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN" ENERGY HOW CAN PPL NOT LIKE HIM
anyway ill be burning down all of faerun if he needs me to
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azedakude · 5 months
Note
Would I be able to request the jojos with a chubby s/o who's severely insecure? Like to where they won't want their partner to touch them and, even when presented with reassurance, they won't believe them as they tell them they look good? I suffer with this a bit, insecurities grow due to family and friends telling me to lose weight and be more active. It always gets to my head yk?
❁ 𐑮𐑮 ¡note 𖥻 autor! ﹆ i totally understand that!, if you need a safe place to blow off steam when you're feeling this way, feel free to message me and we can chat! <3 sorry for the severe delay !! and, i'll do a few headcannons of this, if you don't mind. i hope you like it, you are very strong for coping with this situation on your own! ♡
╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴✦ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴
ᰍ ★ ៸៸ #꯭# ❨ ♥︎ ❩ JoJo's with a insecure s/o !
꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 :
✦ He always understood that you feel this way about your body, most of the time he does his best not to bother you with compliments, or physical affection, and everything so that you can be comfortable around him. Instead, Jonathan would speak to you sweetly and very patiently, making you understand that your body is valid, and your feelings and insecurities are too. “Sweetheart, you shouldn't get carried away by bad comments about your body, they don't make sense. Could you tell me the next time someone says those comments to you? I will make them understand that those blasphemies should not be said to my partner. They do not know what magnificent person they are talking about.” little by little, Jonathan will help you manage your insecurities, facing them with you, making you see that you are not alone in this battle, he will always be by your side.
✦ Although Jonathan has rarely admitted it out loud; more than anything to not make you uncomfortable, he is fascinated by your cheeks and love your rolls; since he find it extremely attractive and even adorable. — He has the habit of holding your hand whenever he can; caressing it and also getting lost in your eyes, when caressing your hand; he will always write nice things with his index finger on your palm.
✦ From time to time, every time you fall asleep on Jonathan's chest due to fatigue, he will begin to caress your scalp with his right hand, while with his left hand he will begin to lightly pat your back, enhancing your sleep. At the same time; Jonathan will whisper various compliments and sweet words in your ear, admitting all the admiration he has for you. “I know you don't feel comfortable when I tell you these things when you're awake, but... I really love you for who and how you are, Y/N, no one and nothing can change that. You are perfect in my eyes, and that is the most important thing to me.”
✦ There were very few occasions when you wore a dress; but when that occasion passed where you used them, Jonathan would simply appreciate you from top to bottom, loving you with his eyes and smiling from ear to ear when he saw your beauty. “You are an angel in my eyes... I had never seen such perfection, until I saw you.” Jonathan would be the first to remark how divine you look in such clothes, always asking your permission to place his hands on your waist, and then kiss you gently.
꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 :
✦ Although he is an extremely funny and hilarious guy, when you feel comfortable enough to tell him about your insecurities about your physique; he took action on the matter in a subtle, but at the same time direct way. — Joseph from time to time, if not almost always; he would buy a bouquet of flowers, every day was a different types of flowers to give to you; the flowers would always be accompanied with a poem handwritten by himself (with artistic help from Caesar Zepelli, obviously) “I may not be worthy of your presence, but I am willing to move heaven, sea and earth to show you that my love for you will never die, and will never change, because I have fallen madly in love with you, and no one else; my heart belongs to you, Y/N. — JoJo.”
✦ Every time he has the opportunity, Joseph will place tender and slow kisses all over your body, especially on your shoulders and abdomen, since these two places are his favorite parts of your body. Also, when he feels playful enough, he will tenderly caress your waist, hips, thighs and shoulders. — Every little physical affection that Joseph gives you, he will do it with total love and care, always looking for one of your best reactions, without wanting you to feel uncomfortable, since, for him, you are the most important person in his life.
✦ Joseph loves to carry you bridal style, or carry you in his arms in general; whenever you are in his arms, Joseph will kiss your cheeks and whisper tender compliments in your ear, occasionally hiding his own face against your neck to tickle you to make you laugh. “I love carrying you in my arms, you know? It makes me feel like that blue knight, who comes to rescue you.”
✦ When it comes to someone disrespecting you and insulting you because of your physique; regardless of who it is, Joseph will take it completely personally and take matters into his own hands, literally. — If it is completely necessary, Joseph will not hesitate to fight with the person who has disrespected you.
꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐔𝐉𝐎 :
✦ He would listen to you vent about your insecurities, showing that he would always be there for you through thick and thin, without forgetting that he would gently hug you after each vent; asking you if he can kiss your forehead. “I want to see you well, Y/N, I will never leave your side, I will help you and I will be in your worst moments.” Jotaro will always tell you the same thing and he will always demonstrate it in different ways.
✦ Jotaro didn't care much about how you looked physically, but since you confessed to being insecure about your physique; he began to be much more patient with you regarding your insecurities. From time to time, Jotaro would hug you from behind every chance he got, whispering nice compliments in your ear. “You are very pretty, you know that?”
✦ He would be the type of boyfriend who would listen to you vent about your insecurities at every moment; always paying maximum attention to how you feel, and then knowing how to react and cope with the situation so that you feel better. — In turn, after each vent, Jotaro will ask you if he can hug you and comfort you for a long time, listening to you, pampering you and giving you affection.
✦ Like Joseph, he would act extremely defensive if someone outside disrespected you regarding your insecurities; without hesitating for a second to defend yourself, both verbally and physically. With the difference that, after that, Jotaro would stay by your side, comforting and supporting you.
꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐀 :
✦ Josuke would have in mind about your problem with your physique; ttherefore, he would always try to listen to you and support you above all, accompanying you in every relapse and every progress you present, always encouraging you and giving you compliments so that you can see yourself through his own eyes. “I understand that it is difficult for you.. But believe me, my love, you are more than perfect just the way you are. You shouldn't change anything.”
✦ He would always make sure you eat your meals; since he would not want you to begin to neglect yourself in other equally important ways based on your insecurity, since for him, everything about you is important and must be taken care of with the well-deserved care.
✦ Whenever he has the opportunity, Josuke will always ask your permission to hug and caress you, while whispering nice compliments into your hair, protecting you in the middle of the hug, so that you feel safe. “I will protect you from every evil in this world, my love, I promise.”
✦ Apart from caressing your body, he will always ask your permission to give you multiple butterfly kisses on certain parts of your body; to tickle you, while he whispers nice compliments and positive affirmations between kisses.
꒰ 𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 :
✦ Giorno would try everything in his power to make you feel better about yourself; whether it be with positive affirmations, caresses, physical affection and more than anything; unconditional attention and listening above all, since, for him, you are the most important person in his universe.
✦ Whenever you feel insecure about your body, Giorno would ask you to do breathing exercises with him; to calm you down and keep you at peace, and then ask your permission so he can hug you and hold you in his arms; while repeating nice phrases to cheer you up.
✦ You would be the perfect muse for Giorno; and he would demonstrate this in his paintings, every time he wanted to paint and portray you on a canvas, he would always ask your permission before doing so, having you as a reference and divine muse. After each painting, he would take the liberty of kissing you, caressing you, pampering and hugging you.
✦ Whenever the two of you go to sleep, Giorno will whisper nice compliments and positive affirmations in your ear with a sweet voice, while he caresses your arms and places tender kisses on your temple. “You are the most divine person I have ever seen in my life.. Did you know that? I will remind you every day, so that you always keep it in mind and do not forget.”
꒰ 𝐉𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐉𝐎𝐇 :
✦ She would have been clear from minute one that you felt insecure about your physique when you decided to tell her about your insecurities; since then, Jolyne took the time to listen to you, accompany you, support and love you; always making it clear to you that she loves you just the way you are.
✦ Jolyne would get straight to the point every time she gave you a compliment; always leaving you clear and present that for her, you are the most perfect person she has ever seen, while she would always ask your permission before hugging you and comforting you so that you feel better.
✦ Little by little, Jolyne would encourage you to wear dresses; while she would encourage you to see yourself in the mirror, while she highlights each unique, beautiful and divine part of your body, starting from the tip of your head, to your feet, without forgetting to give you a thousand and one compliments, kissing you and hugging you in the process. “I will always say it and I will never get tired of telling you; pretty face, you are beautiful just the way you are, you are like a lotus flower; beautiful and delicate.”
✦ Jolyne would be the type of girlfriend who wouldn't mind in the slightest and would always try to find the perfect opportunity to carry you in her arms in bridal style, always to make you smile and cheer you up emotionally. — While smiling at you, looking into your eyes and repeating positive affirmations in your ear, so that you see yourself as perfect as she sees you in her eyes.
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jackxo · 4 months
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A rant about the love language of writing not being understood
You know, recently I have realized something a bit tragic: unless I date a poet or a reader, no one is going to understand my love language of writing.
When I am in love with someone, I spend hours, days, and sometimes weeks compiling the perfect poems and prose for them. I pour my heart into my words. I write them everything I cannot say and everything I should not say.
But it really hurts when, sure, they can read the words on the page, but in reality, they don’t understand my words.
Once, I wrote my ex a few poems. I was so excited for him to read them, but once he did, I never wrote him another poem again. This was all due to his reaction—when he had read my love poems which took weeks to write, he simply said that they were, “pretty good.” He didn’t comment on the clever meter I used to show a sense of everlasting love. He didn’t realize how every capital letter spelled out his name. No. To him, it was simply a set of words.
To be fair, I can’t blame him. He isn’t like me. He doesn’t speak my love language of writing. But this worries me greatly. To be understood, and I mean, completely and wholeheartedly understand, do I need to love someone like me?
Nowadays when I write poems for lovers or friends, the words hardly ever make it to their eyes. I’m scared that they will react the same way my ex did (with disinterest and a lack of appreciation). If they do react negatively, I know deep down that I will never write them another poem.
Selfishly, I think this is a method of protecting myself. Yes, perhaps I have written my lover 50 poems. But have they ever read any of them? No. And it will stay that way. Because the second they can’t read my words, the second they do not understand my expression of love and devotion, I will curl up into myself and never write them another word. Pathetic—I know.
If you made it this far, wow. Maybe you can relate to this. Please let me know your thoughts. I don’t think it is just me who thinks this way but I haven’t heard this talked about before.
(I actually wrote a poem on this very issue ㅠㅠ. The poem is called “miscommunication.” Here it is if you’re interested):
“Miscommunication”
And he will try to love me in the only way he can—
He will reach and be offended when I pull back my quivering hand.
And he will wonder what he has done to deserve such reprimand,
But I do not know how to love him by taking up his hand.
And I will try to love him in the only way I know—
I will write him poetry and recite the sweet L’Allegro.
But he does not speak my language, and I, never his.
So we sit and ramble and understand nothing of what is.
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baohanhanesel · 3 months
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Just thinking about John Soap Mactavish meeting a girl, taking her out on a few dates, becoming her boyfriend and he is such a sweetheart too!
He is the man for her, always treating her, giving her sappy poems he wrote while on deployment, his sketches, flowers and all. He buys herb tea for her when she feels bad because he knows she likes a good bitter tea to burn her throat. He knows she prefers tea over coffee. He knows her favorite things on earth and truly it is a shame he goes to deployment so soon. He loves his job, sure. But he loves her too!
He proposes to her within six months, the proposal comes early for her expectations and she fears he is lovebombing. But she accepts the proposal, puts on the ring anyways because she knows John Mactavish is the best deal out there. Always with his confidence, bravery, gentleness and happiness. He is smiling a lot for someone who has seen a lot. And she appreciates him for it. For never letting that violence get through him. For having the most beautiful smile.
So when she ties the knot with him, it is early, she knows. They get married, and everything is much better! He is extra careful, extra gentle. He smiles more, talks more. She fears this will all end one day. That this is the honeymoon phase to the marriage. Because coming to think of it, they only met 6 months ago. This is all a bit strange, but she won't let herself overthink this. She'll enjoy her marriage. She'll enjoy Johnny and his smile.
"John you will break it."
"Don't worry, luv. I'll handle it!" Said John. Who was putting their toaster apart and trying to inspect the problem before putting it together.
She sighed, she knew the outcome. Her husband loved to put things apart and then put it together. But every single time. The thing would be broken. And this time would be no different. Another expensive indulgence he is in. She should probably stop him from breaking the thing before it is too late and bring it to someone who actually understands. But it feels like it would be like taking away a child's toy.
And as expected, not even fifteen minutes later Johnny rises his head and smiles clumsily.
"The thing was burnt from the inside, couldn't save it."
"Mhm." She knows it wasn't.
"... I'll buy a new one."
Next time she wouldn't let him break it.
"What will we be eatin' tonight?"
"I have no idea. What should we do?"
This earned a grumble from him, there was no food when he got home? Was she sick? He wasn't used to coming to a home with no warm meal. In their house, it didn't work like that.
"You didn't think of anythin'?!" He is just taken aback, he thought things would be different.
"Nope." She is just as taken aback. What is she supposed to do? He didn't say he would come home today or specificed what he wanted for dinner so she forgot.
After seeing his upset shoulders, and also the inability to speak up about it she got in the kitchen. Seeing what he just pushed her to do, John was quickly behind her.
"So what are we uhm, cooking?" He says this with a sly smirk, she turns to look at his face.
"We? Go sit down John, I'll figure something out."
"Whaaat no! I'd die sitting still when you're cooking for me!"
Just like that, they tried to work in the kitchen together. But whatever John did, she was all over him.
"John, That's too much oil, love! Meat already has some oil in it y'know?"
"I always do it like this!" He insists.
He moves to work with the mashed potatoes, she stops him.
"John. When did margarine enter our house?!"
"Margarine? It says butter on it."
"John..." She sighs. It is the name of the brand. But it takes a moment longer for him to realize it. It is fine though, it is silly.
Next time she'll remind him not to put too much oil or to read the items better next time. Next time, she hopes, for once he won't do things his way.
It is honestly so shocking to see them being so awkward and different within a few weeks of living together. John is always stubborn, and so is she. John does things his way, and she never corrects him even though she says she will. John keeps breaking stuff in order to fix them, and she keeps forgetting about the dinner because he didn't specifically tell her he'll be home.
Guess the honeymoon phase had ended quickly.
"John! For the nth time!" She huffed, exhausted with this. "Why are you so stubborn to let someone else take care of things?"
"I am just tryna fix it!" He is smiling nervously, and a little disappointed in himself. It was in his nature. He was a curious man, let him live!
"Bonnie, really? Again.." He shakes his head and rubs his temples, though he has an exhausted bitter smile tugging on his lips. "'m going to bed."
"I am sorry, I... I still haven't gotten used to your schedule." She pouts, watching him leave to his room. It wasn't her fault... She was forgetful of the days he was home or not.
"Why must you never listen?!" She was the first one to bite. And John had bit back.
"Why must you not care? Why do you forget me?"
"I do not forget you. I am getting used to it!"
Just like that, they argued for hours to no end. John was nervous as to think if he did something wrong. Because things weren't like this before. She was sad too, thinking about their old days. Maybe they did act rash about this.
Maybe they were fools for acting too fast.
She said nothing, so didn't John.
"Love..." She looked at the washing machine. That is no longer in any way functioning. It was separated into its parts. She sighed, rubbing her temples. It hadn't been a month since their last argument.
"I was..." He trailed off. "Sorry,"
This time he didn't smile after his mistake, and the absence of his smile stabbed her in the heart. She widened her eyes, and looked at the expensive mistake.
"Oh, so it had those things in it?"
John's head snapped back at her, blinking with confusion.
"Huh. Yeah. Yeah!" He smiles. And suddenly her whole world is at peace again, and the knife retreats from her heart.
She did not correct him before, she wouldn't correct him again. Damn those expensive mistakes, nothing was worth more than Johnny's smile. His smile was worth more than anything. She'd write down a new memo each week to follow his always changing schedule. Anything for that smile to stay put on his face. John had given her everything. He'd been so patient with her forgetfulness. So patient with her reluctance to sudden changes even though it was the most simple thing like a schedule.
The least she could do was to protect his smile and savour it.
I apologize for this. I just rambled. Might be bad, it is probably bad. No beta read or anything just a slap of late night thoughts. I just think Johnny's smile is one of the most attractive things about him. And I feel his partner would know it too. Because look at him, truly. I'd wake up every morning just for the sole reason of seeing his smile. 🙏
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