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#but I also guess it’s for the better because I probably wouldn’t ever believe anyone who says they like me in such a way anyways whne I

blueparadis · 9 months

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LEMONADE + SHIU KONG // f!reader ( she's a sniper), smoking, mention of murder and violence, implicit smut, semi-public ( happens in a car ), little tension between them, rivals to fvck buddies dynamics, he is such a tease here. 1.3 (w.c)

special thanks to @poohbea for beta-reading. without her, i really wouldn't have posted this. i had something in mind and this is entirely different. so i said better luck next time to myself and found the courage to post this. | back to nav. | also tagging @yuujispinkhair

“You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you believe yourself to be.” Kong mutters off-handedly under his breath, reaching for the latch of your belt. His minty tobacco-laced breath paired with that familiar musky cologne threatens to send your nerves into a frenzy. He’s too close for someone who claims to ‘just wanted to undo your seatbelt’. He had no reason to but he did it anyway, probably because you were asking too many questions. He could have easily pressed one of those buttons on the driver’s side door, the one that unlocks all seat belts at once. The car is fancy enough to have those kinds of luxury features anyway, but you can’t help the racing of your heart when his fingers brush your skin. It’s only when he sits back in his own seat do you register his remark. Did he just scold you? The possibility alone has you licking your bottom lip nervously.

It’s not as though he never has, but given your history with him, he rarely comments on your professionalism. He has been your handler for almost a year now and has yet to actually correct or complain about the way you do your job. He’s proud of your skills, he has to be, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiring you for every sniper-kill case he gets.

“I heard you were back in town,” he starts, tapping on his cigarette packet before taking one between his lips. “But I couldn't contact you until I got the green light. That, and I’ve been too damn busy with the bounty offers that keep coming up.” He digs into his breast pocket to fish out a lighter, the flame flicking to life as his thumb rolls over the spark wheel. You look at him visibly confused, something he acknowledges with an amused huff. “Were you really so busy that you couldn't read the briefing I sent you?” He is definitely scolding you, but for what exactly? Trying to stay neutral in the face of his crude teasing, you let out a small breath, choosing to keep his gaze despite the nagging need to look away. He’s changed a bit. There’s worry in his eyes, more than usual, eyebrows creased as he continues. “Ah! I can't let you slip up now — ”

“Why am I here?” You interject with a frown.

“What?” He has the audacity to look at you surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to call you here again.

“This is the third time this month you’ve had me meet you… and in case you haven’t noticed, I have a bit of a busy schedule.” Kong lets you speak for longer than ten seconds for the first time in a very long time, his bad habit of interrupting taking the backseat for once. When he doesn’t answer you, you click your tongue, irritation evident in the furrow of your brow. “Why am I here, Kong-san—?”

“Shiu.” He corrects. Guess you spoke too soon. “And you still didn't answer my question. Did you or did you not—”

“I did.” You respond sourly. “And it told me a whole lot of nothing. Which is why I'll ask you again. Why am I here, Shiu?” Despite your irritation, the glaring fact of his contributions to your career as a sniper sits heavy on your shoulders as you sit in weighted silence. He knows it too, and never fails to bring it up every time you try to walk away, try to tell him you don’t need his help. He’s pushed you farther than anyone else ever has. Certainly, you owe it to him, but his ego is already big enough without the offer of such a confession, and you would rather put a bullet in your skull than admit that.

The air inside the car grows thick with smoke as he takes drag after drag of his cigarette, not that you minded, you’re a smoker yourself, but just to spite him you opened the window by your side. “Isn’t it obvious?” Kong soon discards the butt out of his own window, studying you all the while, observing the mix of question and frustration that creases your forehead as your frown deepens. His lips tug up in one corner ever so slightly, too slight for anyone else to spot, but being around him as often as you have, you knew it was coming. “I’ve missed you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. What a horrible man… he’s toying with you.

“Hilarious,” you mutter, offering him a sarcastic chuckle. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away, that small smile growing at your skepticism. The realization has your heart beating in your ears, and suddenly finding it difficult to keep his gaze.

“Want me to prove it to you?” He dips his head slightly, the leather of his seat squeaking in protest as he leans closer.

“No.” Your reply was instantaneous but you do not move, his hand reaching to play with the necklace resting against your collarbone, the very someone he gifted you after your first successful case. “Aren't we supposed to be doing a job here?”

“You tell me. Haven't you read the briefing?” Again with the same question. He is far too calm in this situation, fingers caressing the hammering pulse that lies just below the surface of your skin. “You weren’t lying to me were you—?”

“This is going nowhere.” You huff, finally breaking the intense staring contest he had trapped you in, finding the courage to withdraw from his touch momentarily.

“It could if…” he guides you back to him, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gaze dipping to your lips. “If you wanted.”

You bite your lip lowering your head to hide your merriment. “Like the last time?” You ask with a knowing smile. If you wanted. Yeah. Sure. As if he didn’t. Because during the ‘last time’ in question, things were entirely different. You two weren’t out for a job. In fact, you were in a situation similar to this one, in his car, engaging in your usual back and forth. It’s unclear exactly what came over you that day, but those sly eyes and that cocky smile had you seeing your handler as less of a mentor and more of the man he was. The conversation devolved into his lips against yours, his hands against your hips as he encouraged you from your seat onto his lap. Thunder rumbled the heavens and rain battered against the windshield, the perfect mask for inevitable heavy breaths and throaty moans. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, his lips, his teeth, the press of his thigh between your legs that had electricity crackling up the base of your spine. His name fogged the windows, each syllable working its way through the tresses of your mind till that was all you could utter, all that truly mattered. He reveled in that, in the way you gave yourself to him almost entirely. How your body grew hot with every caress, every thrust, every kiss. What did you even call this feeling? Neither of you knew, but it was clear that either didn’t want it to stop. By the end of it, his presence spanned your body, inside and out.

Shiu laughs at your subtle accusation. It has the kind of warmth that reminds you of cozy mornings during winter. There is a pregnant pause after he says. “Yeah.” Bobbing his head in a ‘yes’. You shake your head slowly, an amused breath leaving your nose as your nerves buzz with memories past.

You sigh, assessing him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what exactly he’s hiding beneath that elaborately organized talk of his. But the man is a vault, hiding behind dark eyes that threaten to reel you in again. It has you playing with your tongue, curling it against the insides of your mouth before smacking your lips. “Was there really any job for me to begin with?” You retort.

Shiu Kong smiles, his carefully crafted demeanor crumbling in the face of the woman he’s slowly beginning to fall for. “There wasn’t.” He says bashfully.

—

@angelshub @public-safety-network @underratedcharactercorner

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 months

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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FIVE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You visit Ember Island with Jia-Li and grow closer with her and her brother. Everything comes to a head, though, when a party on the island goes wrong.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: would you guys believe if i said i thought we’d already know reader’s real identity this many words into the fic?? anyways enjoy the fun times while they last folks because trust it will be getting angsty at some point probably

Dear Zuko,

I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you angry with me. Please forgive me. I don’t want you to be upset.

Sincerely, Ursa

P.S. Destroying Chan’s house was wrong, but since it was him, I won’t chide you. Jia-Li and I also participated a bit, so it would be hypocritical, anyways.

P.P.S. I’m not friends with Ruon-Jian anymore.

Though you had been at sea for quite a bit of time now, you still had not grown bored of staring at the ocean. Jia-Li had sat back down under the shade of the silk canopy a while ago, eating a bowl full of ice cream and watching you in amusement as you stood at the prow and peered down into the water.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said.

“You’ve said that like a hundred times,” Jia-Li teased you.

“I know, I just…I just can't get over it. I’ve never seen anything quite so blue,” you said, though this was somewhat a lie. That blue from your memories, it resembled this water in depth, though not in texture — the water was clear and lucid, whereas the blue you remembered was harsh and matte.

“I guess I should be glad that you’re enjoying yourself already! Just think about it — you haven’t even gotten to Ember Island yet, and you’re having so much fun. Imagine how much better it’ll be once you’re there!” Jia-Li said.

“I can’t wait,” you said dreamily. “As long as we can go swimming, I’ll be happy.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll swim every day! My brother wrote to me, he said that the tides have been forgiving this season. Maybe I can convince him to teach you how to ride the flying dolphin fish. He always shoos me away whenever I ask, but it’s impossible to hate you, Ursa, so he’ll definitely say yes.”

You had been growing accustomed to that name. It still felt like an alias at times, but it was a familiar one, said around you so often that you barely even hesitated before responding to it.

“It’s fine if he doesn’t,” you said. “Though it would be nice to learn something like that…”

“Maybe you should ask him!” Jia-Li said. “There’s no way he can refuse then!”

“I wouldn’t want to be imposing,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “He shouldn’t have to do something just because he’s too guilty to say no.”

“No, I was more thinking along the lines of ‘you’re pretty and he doesn’t say no to pretty girls’, actually,” she said. “He’ll be happy to oblige you, but if it’s a request from his little sister, he’s likely to say no just to be contrary.”

“We’ll see,” you said after ruminating on it for a second. “Also, thank you for the compliment.”

“It’s just the truth,” Jia-Li said. “But since we’re on the subject — I know you don’t have memories, so you can’t answer about your past life, but what about recently? Have you had a crush on someone before?”

“A crush?” you said.

“Yeah! I mean, have you ever liked anyone?” she said.

“I like a lot of people,” you said. “For example, you and Ty Lee.”

“No, silly, not in that way. I mean liking someone romantically,” Jia-Li elaborated. “I know a few of the boys in the Royal Fire Academy for Boys have been talking about you, so I was just curious.”

“Oh!” you said, covering your face with your hands so that she could not see the embarrassment blooming on it. “I didn’t know that they were.”

“Sure, of course they are! They talk about a lot of us, so it makes sense, and anyways I wasn’t lying when I said you’re pretty. They’re all too scared to actually talk to you, but I’m sure that if you went to the market alone and met one of them, they’d propose on the spot,” she said.

The academies for girls and boys had separate campuses, but they were run conjointly, so that your breaks aligned and your events were held in tandem. Though you tended to avoid attending sporting matches, you had gone to one or two in your time as a student, so you supposed that must’ve been when you had become a viable prospect for whatever nonsense Jia-Li was spouting.

“I don’t talk to any boys,” you pointed out. “Even if any of them like me, I don’t know them, so I can’t say I like them back.”

“You talk to the prince a lot,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice how often you send letters to him via Bian?” she chided. You coughed uncomfortably.

“Um, well, he is my benefactor, so I have to keep him updated with my day-to-day activities,” you said. “It’s, er, part of my scholarship, you know.”

It was not, but Jia-Li seemed to buy the lie readily enough, nodding sagely, though not without a dramatic pout.

“That does check out, but it’s not nearly as exciting as a secret love affair or letters written out of pining and sent with longing, stamped with your heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own!” she said.

“Sorry?” you said. “I don’t think any of that fits the situation, though.”

She sighed. “It’s okay.”

“What about you? Do you have any crushes?” you said, recognizing that this was the logical next step in the conversation. Jia-Li blushed and looked at the wooden paneling of the deck, using her fingers to twirl the hair which escaped her ponytail to frame her face.

“Yes,” she said. “Kind of. But it’s someone who I shouldn’t like, and who would never like me back, so I’ve never said anything.”

“Who?” you said. “Your family is pretty influential, isn’t it? I can’t imagine most anyone rejecting you. Unless you like Prince Zuko and are projecting your ‘heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own’ onto me?”

“No way!” Jia-Li said. “It’s more complicated than him being of a higher ranking than me.”

“Then what is it?” you said.

“He’s my brother’s best friend!” she said, all in a rush, her entire face in flames at the confession.

“Oh,” you said, cringing in empathy. “I see. He would not approve?”

“Definitely not,” she said. “But there’s something worse than him not approving: marrying this boy would mean having Kaho as a sister-in-law!”

“Oh, Agni,” you said, slapping your palm against your forehead. How had you forgotten? It was the only reason Jia-Li was somewhat exempt from Kaho’s reign of terror, despite her association with you: her brother and Kaho’s were best friends. But if she liked Kaho’s brother, then what would that mean?

“That’s the scenario,” she said. “And to top it all off, he’s notoriously popular with girls. He probably wouldn’t even look at me twice. I’ll always just be Ruon-Jian’s annoying little sister to him.”

“I doubt that that’s true,” you said as you approached the docks. “Really, Jia-Li, I don’t think that's the case. You said his family will be on Ember Island at the same time as us?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Although Kaho mentioned not being able to come — something about volunteering as a scribe for some official meeting that the Fire Lord will be hosting over the weekend.”

“Perfect! That’ll be our goal, then,” you said.

“Huh?” she said.

“We’re going to get you noticed by your crush! Who cares about the consequences? Kaho and your brother can just deal with it, and if they have something to say, then they can talk to me,” you said.

“That’s nice of you to offer, but what would you even do?” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Talk to them, I guess. Kaho already doesn’t like me, so it’s not a tragedy if she hates me more, and I don’t know your brother that well, so if he and I don’t get along after that kind of conversation, it won’t be a great loss.”

“Do you really think we can do something like that?” she said.

“We have to try,” you said. “You deserve it, Jia-Li.”

“Thank you,” she said, swallowing. “You’re a really good friend, Ursa. If you ever change your mind and decide you do like Prince Zuko after all, just let me know—”

“Jia-Li!” you warned her, though the threat fell flat, as she only laughed in return.

Jia-Li’s home on Ember Island was close to the docks, and it was right on the water. She told you as you walked up the seashell-lined path that that stretch of sand was actually a private beach that belonged to her family, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bothering you while you were there.

“Sometimes my brother goes to the bigger beach a little ways away, though,” she said. “They like seeing other people our age and hanging out with them and whatnot.”

“Maybe when I’m a little more confident, we can try it,” you said. “For now, I’m just glad we have our own space where I don’t have to be worried about embarrassing myself in case I drown or something.”

“I wouldn’t let you drown,” Jia-Li said. “But I’m fine with that plan. It’s not like I have some huge desire to be on a massively crowded beach with the others, so it’s not heartbreaking for me if we just stay here the whole time.”

“Now, now, not the whole time,” you said. “We have to leave the house at some point so we can meet this guy you like!”

“I’m still not so sure about that,” she said, pulling out a key from her pocket and using it to unlock the front door. “Now hush, I don’t need my brother overhearing us. We can talk more later tonight or something.”

“On it,” you said, pretending to seal your lips shut. She rolled her eyes before motioning you after her. Carefully, you stepped into the grand foyer, scuffing your shoes on the welcome mat to rid them of the sand. Jia-Li smiled in approval, presumably at your politeness, and you smiled back at her.

“Mother, father!” Jia-Li shouted. “Ruon-Jian! Ursa and I are here!”

Jia-Li’s mother peeked her head around the corner, nodding demurely at the two of you, though it was deeper and more reverent when it came to you. She looked exactly like Jia-Li, only a little older, her features aged, the cut of her face sharper.

“It is good to meet you,” she said. Her voice was musical and quiet, carefully controlled — it was the culmination of years of training as the wife of a high-ranking Fire Nation official. It was what you and Jia-Li and Kaho and Ty Lee would one day sound like, once you had graduated from the academy and were ready to enter society properly.

“And you as well, madam,” you said, clasping your hands, bowing your head slightly. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It is greatly appreciated.”

“You are so polite,” Jia-Li’s mother said, the slightest traces of happiness flickering over her face. “I am glad Jia-Li has such an exemplary friend to look up to.”

“Nice to see you, too, mother,” Jia-Li said. Her mother laughed, opening her arms.

“Come here, then,” she said. Jia-Li brightened, racing into her mother’s arms and hugging her. You looked away, feeling like you were intruding on the moment and wishing you had your own mother to embrace like that.

“Where’s father?” Jia-Li said. Her mother sighed.

“He and Admiral Chan were called back to the palace for some important meeting, so they’re not on the island for the moment,” she said.

“It must be the meeting Kaho is scribing for,” you said.

“Most likely,” Jia-Li said. “Do you think he’ll be able to come back before I leave for the academy again? I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“I’m not sure, darling,” her mother said. “If he is still in the capital by the time your boat leaves the docks, I will send him a message to stay in the capital and receive you before he returns.”

“Thank you,” she said. “What about Ruon-Jian? Where is he?”

“Oh, that boy, he’s being as troublesome as ever. I believe he’s locked in his room at the moment. Ruon-Jian! Please come downstairs and say hello to your sister and her friend!” her mother said. It was strange — even yelling, she sounded soft and polite, which should not have made sense but somehow did.

“Why?” a deep, grumbling voice said. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, evidence that Jia-Li’s brother was on his way but wasn’t exactly happy about it. “I don’t wanna meet Jia-Li and her stupid friend — woah.”

Her brother was tall and willowy, with shaggy brown hair that fell into his face, giving him an effortlessly cool appearance. His eyes were the same color as Jia-Li’s, but that was about where their similarities ended. If you had seen him outside, without introduction, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that they were siblings in the first place.

“This is Ruon-Jian,” Jia-Li said when it became obvious that her brother wasn’t going to introduce himself. He was far too busy staring at something, his jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised, though when Jia-Li spoke, he was able to pull himself together, running his hand through his hair and then smirking.

“That’s right,” he said. “The name’s Ruon-Jian.”

“That’s what I just said,” Jia-Li said.

“What about you?” he said. You looked from side to side, wondering who he was talking to, and then you realized it was you, which meant that the thing he had been staring at was also…

“Ursa,” you said. “I’m Ursa.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the attention. Maybe you liked it, or maybe you didn’t. It was strange and fluttering and unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach, and behind your back, you wrung your hands nervously.

“Ursa,” he said. “Great name. It’s as pretty as you are.”

“Um, I guess if I knew who my parents were, I’d pass along the compliment,” you said.

“Wicked,” he said. “So, what are you doing on Ember Island?”

“She’s my friend, idiot. My roommate from the academy,” Jia-Li said.

“Shh, Jia-Li, I’m trying to get to know her better! Stop talking and interrupting her,” Ruon-Jian said. You exchanged bewildered looks with Jia-Li’s mother, while at your side, Jia-Li fumed, the air shimmering from the heat she gave off as a Firebender.

“She’s right,” you said. “I’m her roommate back at school. She’s one of my greatest friends.”

“Sick,” he said.

“I don’t think I am,” you said, puzzled.

“It’s slang,” Jia-Li said.

“I understand,” you said, although you didn’t, not fully. This way of speaking was entirely foreign to you, but you figured that if you had Jia-Li with you to translate, you’d probably be alright.

“Who’s your family, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said.

“I don’t have one,” you said.

“Word?” he said.

“He’s asking if that’s the truth,” Jia-Li whispered. “It’s like saying ‘really?’”

“It is the truth,” you said. “I have no memories. I am the girl that the royal family sponsored to study at the academy after I was rescued from the Earth Kingdom.”

“No way!” Ruon-Jian said. “That’s so cool!”

“Not really,” Jia-Li said. “She doesn’t remember anything. Including her family. Idiot.”

“If I could forget you, I’d do so in a heartbeat,” Ruon-Jian said.

“Well, I’d do the same!” Jia-Li snapped. You cleared your throat.

“I’m just grateful to Prince Zuko for saving me and ensuring my future,” you said. “He, and the rest of the royal family, are likely the reason I’m still alive and standing before you today.”

“Word,” Ruon-Jian said.

“I am not lying this time, either,” you affirmed.

“No, that was more of an expression of agreement,” Jia-Li said.

“I am a little confused,” you said. “But I shall trust you on this one, Jia-Li.”

“Do you have plans for the week?” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li is going to teach me to swim,” you said, beaming at Jia-Li, who gave you a high-five in return. “Beyond that, no, not really.”

“We were going to ask you if you could teach her to ride the flying dolphin fish,” Jia-Li said. “I know you’d never teach me, but—”

“Definitely!” Ruon-Jian said, cutting Jia-Li off. “I’ll teach you anything you want, Ursa.”

Heat rushed into your face, and you bit your lower lip, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Glancing at Jia-Li, who shrugged, you trained your attention on the ground instead of looking at Ruon-Jian when you responded.

“I think that that would be fun,” you said.

“We’ll get started tomorrow,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian, usually I’m joking when I say it, but you really are an idiot! How can you teach her to ride flying dolphin fish if she doesn’t even know how to swim?” Jia-Li said.

“The day after tomorrow, then!” Ruon-Jian declared. “See you around, Ursa!”

With that, he bounded back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, leaving you, Jia-Li, and her mother standing in the foyer, somehow even more confused than before.

The next day was somehow sunnier and brighter than the previous, which was a relief, as it was the day you were supposed to learn to swim. At present, you were wearing one of Jia-Li’s sets of swimming clothes, your towel spread out on the sand as you looked at the ocean with furrowed brows.

“You ready?” Jia-Li said.

“I think so,” you said.

“Let’s go!” she said. Without waiting for you, she charged into the water, flopping onto her stomach once it was deep enough for her to do so. Not even taking a second to think, you sprinted in after her, and when the water rose to the level of your thighs, you didn’t second-guess yourself. Using your legs to push off, you dove into the water, jetting through it, forcing your eyes open and laughing soundlessly as you wove amongst the flowing bubbles and colorful fish that decorated the ocean.

It was many seconds later that you pushed your way to the surface, taking a deep breath, your legs churning the water so that you stayed afloat. Some ways away, Jia-Li had done the same, though she was busily scanning the shore for where you might be.

“Jia-Li!” you called out. “Over here!”

“Ursa!” she said, clapping her hands in delight. “I guess you do know how to swim!”

“I guess so!” you said, overcome with a rush of euphoria at the weightless feeling the water afforded you. Jia-Li paddled over to where you were treading, doing the same beside you so that you two could talk.

“That means you can learn to ride the flying dolphin fish sooner rather than later,” she said slyly. You lowered your eyes.

“Maybe,” you said.

“I knew it!” she squealed. “You have a crush on my brother!”

“No!” you said, far too quickly to sound convincing. “I mean. No.”

“You do!” Jia-Li said. “I can’t understand why you’d ever have a crush on him, but I guess there’s really someone out there for everyone.”

“I don’t even know him,” you said. “Sure, he’s cool and all, but I don’t know the first thing about who he is as a person. How can I say for certain that I have a crush or anything?”

“That’s why you have to get to know him,” Jia-Li said, poking you in the forehead. “Right?”

“True,” you said. “Then I can tell you for certain how I feel. What about you, though?”

“What about me?” she said innocently.

“When will I get to meet this mysterious crush of yours? You can hardly expect to pursue him if you never even go to see him!” you said. She splashed you with water.

“I’m not about to just go visit his house for no reason! It would be weird,” she said.

“Maybe a little bit,” you said. “But there has to be a way for you to accidentally run into him! And when I say accidentally, of course it won’t be an accident at all, but it’ll appear to be one.”

“Just forget about it,” Jia-Li said. “It’s not a big deal. If it’s meant to be, something will come up.”

“If that’s what you want,” you said. “But you have to promise me that if something comes up, as you say it will, you’ll really try your hardest.”

“Okay,” Jia-Li said in determination. “If there is some opportunity for me to talk to him, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the way!” you said. “Now, let’s race. I want to see how fast I am, too.”

“First one to that bit of driftwood wins?” Jia-Li said, pointing at a smoothed-over log floating in the distance.

“You’re on,” you said. “Three, two — hey, I didn’t say go yet! Jia-Li!”

You could not remember ever having as much fun as you did during that time on Ember Island. You and Jia-Li spent hours lazing around on the beach or swimming in the water, eating whatever her family’s chef prepared for you, drinking fruit juice that was sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, oftentimes both. At night, you would stay up until the moon was high in the sky, giggling and exchanging secrets and stories, making fun of your classmates and the boys in the Royal Academy for Boys.

“You know, one of them has a shrine dedicated to Kaho,” Jia-Li told you one night. You howled with laughter.

“No!” you said.

“Yes, he really does! He found a portrait of her and leaves money and food in front of it every week,” she said.

“You’re making that up,” you said.

“Nope, I found out during one of the sporting matches,” she said. “I was a little disgusted, but now that I see the humor in it, I confess I’m entirely amused by the entire thing.”

You would sleep late into the day, sometimes missing the morning entirely and only waking up for the afternoons. Jia-Li’s mother never scolded you two for it, saying that she was happy you were catching up on your rest, since dark circles were not comely on a woman or something along those lines.

Sometimes, Ruon-Jian would spend a few minutes with you both, but for the most part, he was off with Chan, his best friend and Kaho’s older brother. When he was with you, he was usually sitting at your side, making fun of his sister and complimenting you all at once. And even though you barely knew him, you had to admit that it was nice to have someone paying such close attention to you for once, treating you as if you were worthy of his time and entirely normal, the way he was, instead of tiptoeing around you and your lost memories.

“You ready, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said, plopping down on the bench beside you as you and Jia-Li ate breakfast — or was it lunch, at this point?

“For what, Ruon-Jian?” you said, batting your eyelashes at him. From across the table, Jia-Li pretended to gag.

He elbowed you in the side. “To learn to ride flying dolphin fish, of course!”

“Yes!” you said, shooting to your feet. “I thought you’d forgotten!”

“How could I forget about you?” he said. “The currents just haven’t been right for a beginner recently. You should’ve seen how badly Chan wiped out the other day!”

You glanced at Jia-Li. She mimed falling over, and you gave her a discreet thumbs up.

“You didn’t fall, though, did you?” you said. Ruon-Jian beamed and flexed his arms.

“’Course not. I’m way better than Chan,” he bragged.

“Very impressive. Then there must be no one in the Fire Nation more equipped to teach me,” you said.

“Not a single person,” he agreed.

“I can’t bear to watch any more of this,” Jia-Li muttered to no one in particular. “You guys have fun. I’m going to collect our clothes so that they can get washed, Ursa.”

She left without another word, though as she walked away, you thought you caught her saying something about how you could do better. Ignoring it, you followed after Ruon-Jian towards the beach behind his house, struggling to keep up with his brisk stride.

“There’s a pod of flying dolphin fish that visits our beach pretty regularly,” he said. “We should be able to catch a ride there.”

“Okay,” you said. “Is it safe?”

“We’ll ride the same one, so I can look after you, but on the whole, flying dolphin fish are very docile, so as long as the waves are gentle, it’s fine,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been waiting to take you out.”

“That sounds good,” you said. He whistled.

“That’s how we call them. Now, we just have to wait until they come,” he said, pulling you forward to stand beside him.

“Then what?” you said.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. “Just kidding! Then we swim out and find the friendliest one and get on.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, in the distance, there were splashes. Ruon-Jian whooped in delight, grabbing your hand and dragging you after him before you could protest.

“They were fast today!” he said. “Let’s go before they decide to leave again!”

Ruon-Jian was a little faster than you at swimming, though you had been faster than Jia-Li. You didn’t feel insulted, though; he spent much of his time in the ocean, so it was to be expected that he was better than both you and his sister alike. The end result was that he reached the flying dolphin fish before you, and had already mounted one by the time you swam up to its side.

“How do I get on?” you said.

“You don’t,” he said, using his legs to hold onto the body of the flying dolphin fish and then bending over to pull you out of the water and set you in front of him.

“Thanks,” you said, suddenly very aware of how close he was to you, how he held onto your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Just rest your hands on its head,” he said. “Like that. Good job! I’ll do all the steering and stuff with my legs, so don’t worry about that for now. All you have to do is focus on your balance.”

“Got it,” you said.

“Then let’s get going!” he said, clicking at the flying dolphin fish, which took off with a push of its powerful tail, propelling itself through the water. Its speed was breathtaking, and as the wind rushed against your face, tears gathered in your eyes, tears of joy and freedom and also of regret. When was the last time you had felt like this? When was the last time you had been so happy? Why didn’t you endeavor to be so more often?

Suddenly, the flying dolphin fish took off into the air, and then you were soaring. Everything faded away, the rest of the world and Ruon-Jian and the flying dolphin fish and even you. It was all nothing. You were all nothing. There was only the sky and the sea and the smell of salt on the wind, blue taking over your vision and almost, for a second, reminding you of something else.

Then you were slamming back into the water, the flying dolphin fish not even slowing its pace as it went from air to ocean. The spray that hit your face from the impact was enough to wake you up from the daze, and you were reminded of where you were and who you were and what you were doing.

“That was so fun,” you said as you and Ruon-Jian re-entered the house, still dripping with saltwater despite the towels wrapped around you both.

“It’s sick, right? I knew you’d like it,” Ruon-Jian said. “Speaking of things you might like…my friend Chan is holding a party later tonight. You wanna come?”

You perked up at the name Chan, knowing he was none other than the object of Jia-Li’s affections.

“Yes, but only if Jia-Li can come, too,” you said.

“Aw, no way! Chan never leaves her alone, and I don’t want my best friend bothering my little sister. It’s so odd!” he said.

“It’ll be really lonely for me to be at a party where I don’t even know anyone,” you said with a small frown.

“That’s fair,” he said.

“And she’s my friend, so it’ll be more fun for me if she’s there,” you continued. “That’s why I’ll only go if she can, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Ruon-Jian said. “Fine. She can come, too.”

“Yay! Thank you so much!” you said, clapping. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Sure will be,” he said. “You should go get ready, though. There’ll be a lot of influential people there, so you should try to look your best.”

“Of course,” you said. “See you soon!”

Luckily, Jia-Li had been right in assuming that you and her would be the same size. You had been wearing her clothes for the entire vacation, and tonight was no different, as she picked out something nice for you to put on for the party.

“Ursa, I’m convinced you’re a miracle worker,” Jia-Li said, shaking her head. “Seriously! How is it that you managed to get us invited to one of Chan’s parties? They’re super selective.”

“Simple. Your brother invited me, and I told him I’d only go if you could, too. He was initially a bit reluctant, since he seemed to think Chan wouldn’t leave you alone, but he came around,” you said.

“You’re the best,” she said.

“I honestly might’ve just said no from the get go, but I heard that Chan was hosting, and I knew we had to attend. This is literally the sign you were waiting for!” you said. “What are the odds that your brother would invite me to a party hosted by the man of your dreams?”

“Pretty high, considering he thinks you’re really attractive and the so-called man of my dreams is his best friend,” Jia-Li said. “But I know what you’re saying, and I agree. Enough about that, though. The only thing left is for us to do our best to look amazing!”

Because Ruon-Jian and Chan were best friends, you arrived at the party before anyone else so that you could help Chan set up. His house was enormous, according to Ruon-Jian, and he had said it would be greatly appreciated if you all could lend a hand. With a meaningful look at Jia-Li, you had accepted.

“I made sure that Chan knew what food you like, Ursa, so that he could serve it,” Ruon-Jian said, his arm tossed around your shoulders. “I want you to have the best time!”

“Aren’t you so romantic, brother?” Jia-Li said dryly.

“Thank you, Ruon-Jian,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk.

“Ruon-Jian!” a tall, muscular boy said as he opened the door to the mansion. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Jia-Li took forever getting ready, dude,” Ruon-Jian said. “By the way, Chan, this is Ursa. And Ursa, this is Chan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Chan said. “Did you say Jia-Li? Is she here?”

“I am,” Jia-Li from where she was hiding behind you and Ruon-Jian. “Hi, Chan.”

“Jia-Li! It’s been ages since I saw you last. How have you been?” Chan said, yanking her by the arm and into the house.

“Quit flirting with my sister!” Ruon-Jian shouted, though he went ignored by both Chan and Jia-Li. You patted him on the arm.

“It’s okay,” you said. “She doesn’t seem upset about it, so you shouldn’t be, either.”

“It’s just so freaky,” he said with a shudder. “Jia-Li’s my baby sister. She shouldn’t have guys interested in her, let alone guys that have been my best friend since I could count.”

“She’s grown up now,” you said. “She can make her own decisions. You should just support her.”

“If you think that’s what’s best,” he said reluctantly. “You’re pretty mature, you know.”

“It’s funny, I feel like I’ve heard that before, though I don’t quite recall who might’ve said such a thing,” you said. “It doesn’t matter; either way, thank you.”

Jia-Li and Chan were too busy talking with each other, and Ruon-Jian was too busy fixing his hair in the mirror, so the brunt of the party set up fell to you. You didn’t mind, though, liking the act of working, and you were so efficient that everything was ready right around dusk.

“The place looks great, Ursa,” Ruon-Jian said when you rejoined him in front of the mirror.

“Your hair does, too, so you can stop fiddling with it,” you said. He pulled you in by the waist, flashing a peace sign in the mirror.

“Don’t we look so good together?” he said. “It’s like…like you were meant to stand beside me.”

“I suppose so,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you would go so far as to say all that. Still, it was nice to know that someone thought you belonged with them, so when he began to lean in, you did not move away.

Right when his lips were about to brush against yours, there was a knock on the door. He drew back in irritation.

“Who is here this early?” he said. “Whatever. Where were we again?”

The moment was ruined, though, so you pretended to be preoccupied with straightening your clothes, your head tilted downwards so that he could not even catch your eye.

“These are some really punctual party guests,” you said. “No one else is here yet.”

“Yeah, punctual’s one word for it,” Ruon-Jian said, clearly taking the hint you had given him and hopefully not being too miffed about it. “Wait, it’s that group we invited when we were on the beach earlier! Should’ve known they’d be the type.”

“On the — Ty Lee?” you said.

The first one to enter, Ty Lee turned in search of whoever had said her name. When she noticed you standing beside Ruon-Jian, one of his arms still around your waist, your posture clearly still set towards him, her jaw dropped.

“Ursa?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel like that’s a question I should be asking you,” you said as she cartwheeled over to drag you away from Ruon-Jian and into a hug so tight you temporarily stopped breathing.

“We were just hanging out on the beach when we got invited to come by Chan and Ruon-Jian!” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here, too.”

“Ruon-Jian is Jia-Li’s older brother, and he’s best friends with Chan, so I think that my presence is a little more explicable than yours,” you said. “When you say we, though, who do you mean?”

“Me, Mai, Azula, and Zuko!” Ty Lee said, pointing at each of them in turn. Mai was sitting by a painting, glaring whenever someone tried to approach her, and the girl who must’ve been the infamous Princess Azula was talking to Chan while Jia-Li stood behind her, ostensibly shoved out of the way so that the princess could have her turn talking to the host.

As for Zuko, he was still awkwardly standing by the doorframe, though when he glanced over at you, his eyes widened. At first, relief filled them, but when he noticed your proximity to Ruon-Jian, a strange sort of malcontent settled over his expression.

“Zuko!” you said as he stormed over to you. Ty Lee looked at him and then back at you before promptly dashing over to Mai’s side, the only one who didn’t get glared at for daring to go near her. “What are you—?”

“Who is he?” he said.

“The name’s Ruon-Jian, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding out his hand for Zuko to shake. Zuko looked at it disdainfully before scoffing and then returning his gaze to you.

“He’s Jia-Li’s older brother,” you said.

“Right,” Zuko said sardonically. “That’s why the two of you are so close.”

“I’ve been staying at his house the whole time I’ve been on Ember Island, so yeah, it’s probably a contributing factor,” you said.

“I’m gonna go get some food, Ursa. There are some freaky vibes here right now that I don’t really approve of,” Ruon-Jian said, inching away.

“Do you like him?” Zuko said. You blinked, taken aback by the direct question. In his letters, he was so kind and tactful, so you had come to associate him with that sort of language. The elegance with which he wrote, the careful concern he always showed for whatever you said — all of it had caused a fondness for him to grow in you.

“He’s just my friend’s older brother,” you said. The way he was speaking now was as if he was accusing you and you had to defend yourself or face judgment, but what crime had you even committed in the first place? “He taught me to ride flying dolphin fish and invited me to the party. That’s all.”

“Of course,” he said. “He’s so cool, with his dumb hair and clothes and flying dolphin fish, so of course you like him. No surprise there.”

“Are you angry?” you said. “Why?”

“Am I angry?” he said. “No!”

“You sound a little angry,” you said meekly. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Why would it even matter to you?” he said.

“I don’t know?” you said. “I was only asking.”

“Don’t ask questions for no reason, especially when you don’t care about the answer in the first place,” he said.

“But that’s not the case. I did care about the answer, or else I wouldn’t have asked,” you said.

“Well, next time, just ask that boyfriend of yours,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian?” you said.

“Yes?” Ruon-Jian said, appearing out of nowhere. “Here, this is for you.”

“You have such horrible timing,” you said under your breath, accepting the plate he handed you. “Zuko, have you eaten anything yet? There’s a lot of really good food out. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“It’s all Ursa’s favorites!” Ruon-Jian said. “I made sure of it myself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Zuko said with a sneer. “What the hell do you know about her, anyways?”

“Yo, chill, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding his hands in the air. “Who even are you? I probably know more than you! Her and I are really close, you see.”

It was probably the worst thing he could’ve said. Zuko’s face darkened, and then, before any of you knew it, he was grabbing Ruon-Jian by the collar and throwing him into a nearby vase. You jumped at the noise before rushing over to help Ruon-Jian stand.

“I’m fine,” Ruon-Jian said, waving you off as he staggered to his feet. “What is your problem, dude?”

“Stay away from her,” Zuko said.

“Who are you to say that?” you said. “My benefactor? That doesn’t mean you get to control my life, Zuko! Why does it matter to you who I’m hanging out with? He’s from a perfectly respectable family, so it’s not like it’ll reflect badly on you. I don’t get what the big deal is!”

“Seriously?” Zuko said. “You think I care what family he’s from? Do what you want! It doesn’t matter to me. It’s what you’ll do anyways, so why should I try to stop you?”

“What happened?” you said. “Why has your opinion of me lowered so thoroughly? What have I done to offend you so greatly? I know that you are angry, and I know it is because of me, but I cannot understand why!”

“There’s a lot of things you can’t understand,” he said.

“I heard a crash, is everyone — who broke my nana’s vase?” Chan shrieked as he came back into the main room. Ruon-Jian pointed at Zuko. “You! I’ve had enough of you, alright? Get out of my party!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko said, though not without one last glare at all of you.

“See you around, loser!” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li’s right,” you said as Mai, Ty Lee, and Princess Azula excused themselves as well. “You really are an idiot. Do you know who that was?”

“Some jealous loser?” Ruon-Jian said. You opened your mouth to argue before deflating, knowing that there was no point.

“Just forget about it. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves for the rest of the party,” you said.

Some time later, there was a knock on the door. Chan opened it, and then his face fell.

“Hello, Chan,” a voice that could only be Princess Azula’s said. “Thanks for inviting us earlier, but I have some unfortunate news to share.”

“The party’s over,” Zuko said, and then all four of them were in the room, sending bursts of fire everywhere, kicking the tables in half, swinging from the chandeliers and slicing up the paintings.

“What is going on?” Jia-Li shouted, covering her head with her hands.

“I have no idea,” you said. “Hey, what are you guys doing?”

Chan screamed as Mai threw a set of knives into a pair of antique paintings on the walls and the chandelier came crashing to the ground under Ty Lee’s weight. Jia-Li pulled you out of the way of a stray lick of blue fire from Azula, and you buried your face in your hands.

“This was a pretty terrible party,” Ty Lee said, dropping lightly to her feet in front of you. “You could say we’re showing our appreciation as guests!”

“By destroying his house?” you said as Zuko kicked an entire pillar in half.

“Yep! Wanna join?” Ty Lee said.

“No!” you and Jia-Li said in unison.

“To each their own!” Ty Lee said before springing away.

“Well…” Jia-Li said. “It would feel nice.”

“What? Why?” you said.

“I thought Chan was confessing to me on the balcony earlier, but it turns out that even though he does like me, he wants to live a free and unburdened life, without the commitment of having a girlfriend. He told me that the best he could offer me is a long-term arrangement in which he does what he wants and then spends some time with me whenever I’m on the island,” Jia-Li said.

“That’s horrible,” you said.

“And while I was out there, he told me that Ruon-Jian invited Mai and Ty Lee because he thought they were hot and he wanted a chance with them,” she continued. “So there’s that.”

You scowled, and even though you hadn’t been betrayed, it felt as if you had been. Naturally, you held no claim on Ruon-Jian, but the entire reason you had grown close to him in the first place was because you liked being someone’s priority. If you weren’t even that, then what was the point?

“Jia-Li,” you said. “Since it’s the prince and princess in charge of the destruction, you could consider it a royal order.”

“You could,” Jia-Li said, a grin creeping onto her face.

“And as students of the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, we are duty-bound to follow all royal orders,” you said.

“That we are,” she said.

“I think that means we have to participate,” you said.

“I think you’re right, Ursa,” she said.

“Of course, it’s not because we’re angry at Ruon-Jian or Chan or anything,” you said.

“Definitely not,” she agreed. “We’re just following in the prince and princess’s example.”

“That’s exactly correct,” you said. “After all, what are we but their humble and obedient servants?”

“Nothing, indeed!” Jia-Li said brightly. “All hail the royal family!”

With that, she ignited her hands and placed them right on a portrait of Chan as a child. You cheered before taking a steak knife and using it to cut up the curtains, tossing them into the fire she had started as kindling.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Ursa,” Jia-Li said.

“Yeah, I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

Ursa,

It wasn’t anything you did. I’m sorry; I was upset about something unrelated and took it out on you. You have no need to ask for my forgiveness — if anyone should be doing that, it’s me. Please, please forgive me for being so angry. I promise that I will make it up to you the next time we meet.

Yours, Zuko

P.S. I did not think that you and Jia-Li would join in, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed.

P.P.S. Ruon-Jian is ugly and his hair is terrible. You don’t need to be friends with him, anyways.

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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babiebom · 1 month

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Hello hello. I just recently stumbled across your blog and in celebration of the 1.6 update (and also just outta pure curiosity), I wanna ask about the SDV bachelors reactions to a farmer who's ace/uncomfortable with intercourse but still wishes to pursue a loving relationship with them. If this ask isn't up your alley, feel free to disregard it. Hope you have a good day ✌️

A/N: hiiiiiiiii!! Obligatory I am not a part of this community(I am cishet lmao) so I am just going to have to try my best!! I am not ace or aro or anything but like never feel bad for sending an ask like this!! By the time you see this it’ll probably be like next week or something bc I do take little writing breaks so it isn’t absolute trash but I hope when you see this you enjoy it!!

Tw:mentions of sex, some cursing maybe,

Bc: idk at least 5 or 6 for each bachelor

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian

Is this a joke?

No? Okay.

Would be disappointed at first because let’s face it dude is constantly horny

But would get over it rather quickly like just because you don’t wanna have sex doesn’t mean he can’t run one out

And now that you’re dating it’s easier than ever to do that because he finds you so attractive.

So not really all that disappointing when he thinks about it, really

Sam

Dude for real? Like ever? I mean I guess that’s okay

Sex isn’t the top thing on his list so it’s fine

Like yeah he would like to have it but it’s whatever

Would rather give up skateboarding and music than give you up so not having sex is easier than that by a long shot

Can he still get kisses tho??? That’s all he’s really worried about

Shane

I think the least affected and disappointed out of the bachelors

He has more things to worry about than having sex

It’s not that he isn’t attracted to you

It’s that you loves you for you and sex is the last thing on his mind when he’s thinking about bettering himself and taking care of Jas and his chickens the list goes on

Would actually be so chill when you have this conversation like “yeah okay, that’s fine.” And would never make you feel bad about it because he honestly doesn’t mind

Elliott

Tries not to react on the outside.

I think before you two start getting hot and heavy it probably wouldn’t have come up

Because I think Elliott would want to be a gentleman and not bring it up until you do

And during a particularly heated makeout session he tries to take it further to test the waters when you stop him in his tracks

And he’s like oh…okay!

He’s good with whatever you give him

Sometimes he’s disappointed when he gets the urge but gets over it very quickly because he obviously knows how to handle those feelings himself.

Alex

“Like…at all?”

Would be high key disappointed because dude likes to fuck tbh

BUT at the same time you aren’t just some random whose pants he’s trying to get in

You’re quite literally the love of his life (if anyone asks him he will never say he believes this because he’s scared of rejection)

So it takes a minute but he accepts this with literally a “welp back to using my hand” mentality

Like when he thinks about it, sex is literally the least important aspect of your relationship, he fell for you because of who you are not because he just wants to fuck.

Harvey

I think he wouldn’t really be disappointed but like dang y’know?

Like he doesn’t care that much about sex to really be disappointed

But does enjoy the act of sex, especially with a person he’s connected to like you two are

So it’s not as far as disappointment but is still like oof okay.

Out of all the bachelors understands the lbgtq+ community better than the others so isn’t really all that surprised when you talk to him about it.

He knows what it is and doesn’t mind, you don’t have to explain yourself, you’re valid how you are he doesn’t mind and he won’t and doesn’t want to force you to do anything.

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idiasdiscordkitten · 2 years

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Could I request the Dorm Leaders reacting to a very physically affectionate crush, who's always hugging them, holding their hand or resting their head on their shoulder?

of course! this is so cute :) i'm going to title this with "s/o" just so it's a bit more simple, but i'll write the headcanons with the crush element in mind!

the dorm leaders with a physically affectionate s/o

Riddle Rosehearts

❤️ instinctively, he tells you to tone down the affection, since it’s against the rules. he immediately regrets it though, since he really doesn’t want you to let go of his hand

❤️ he’s a little embarrassed when you show him affection like this, and he’s constantly second-guessing himself (do you act like this with everyone, or just him?), but his heart skips a beat whenever you touch him. he sweats out of nervousness and believes something must be wrong with him

❤️ after you two get together, riddle is much more relaxed. he probably won’t initiate any pda, but in private? he does what he can to return your affections. he wants you to feel just as loved as he does

Leona Kingscholar

💛 100% teases you. he’s also impressed that you’re taking charge like this, since he realizes he’s a bit of an intimidating figure. it’s all on purpose, so it makes sense

💛 he might ruffle your hair a little, but nothing more than that. at least, not until you get together. he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s gone soft, especially not for an herbivore like you

💛 once you’re together, though? he loves having his arm around you while you hold him close in a side hug. you are a fine prize, definitely finer than anything his lousy princehood could offer him, and he’d proud to show you off. he’s especially passionate in his dorm, where he knows he’s pissing off the other beastmen. leona thrives on stirring up jealousy in them, knowing that you belong to him

Azul Ashengrotto

💜 azul is a little uncomfortably with you showing him attention like this, and the back of his mind is telling him that you’re just doing it to make fun of him. he has to remind himself that you’re too kind of a person to view him that way, the way his bullies used to

💜 some touches are more acceptable than others. he’s not the huggiest person in the world, but he really enjoys when you hold his hand! he feels really safe when you do

💜 as your relationship blossoms, he grows more comfortable with you getting closer to him. it’s mostly been his self esteem and image issues pushing you away, but through your love, he grows to accept himself more. over time, he might even get so comfortable that he can hug you back with all of his arms (if that’s something you’d want)!

Kalim Al-Asim

🧡 this is a dream come true this is all he’s ever wanted

🧡 kalim is a really touchy person, too, and he’s used to everyone telling him it’s “too much” (especially jamil), so for you to go out of your way to hug him? nothing is better than this!

🧡 you two live in your own little bubble, and he wouldn’t change a thing. he loves hugs, holding your hand, taking naps together, anything, as long as he gets to be with you! you’re always so much fun

Vil Schoenheit

💖 vil thinks that you just show him attention because he’s a celebrity, but he’s a “villain,” so you could never actually like him. it’s all just for the social media game

💖 the way you touch him makes him feel sick. you’re so gentle, so warm, and as an actor, he can tell a sincere look from a fake one. the fact that your affections are genuine stresses him out a lot, since he doesn’t want to fall for you. but he’s falling hard

💖 in public, he’s reluctant to return your affectionate actions because of his image. in private, though? he’s a boa constrictor. you are literally never escaping his arms. he may be a villain, but you are his hero!

Idia Shroud

💙 he jumps at any touch, big or small. he doesn’t even want to be seen by you, so for you to try and do something crazy like give him a hug? hold his hand? where’s the pause button?!

💙 idia really likes you. like, really really likes you. but he is so awkward and anxious that he has no idea how to react, and he knows that he’s probably not giving you the reaction you’re hoping for when you approach him like this. he’s constantly beating himself up over it, thinking he’s pushing you away

💙 after you two get together, he’ll finally communicate it to you (or ortho will) that he doesn’t want you to do pda with him. it just stresses him out way too much. but he’s happy to receive your affections in the privacy of his room! he’ll even work on gaining the courage to initiate something with you someday. he needs to grind some more xp first, though

Malleus Draconia

💚 grabbing his hand? giving him a sudden hug? not only are you adorable, you’re also brave!

💚 malleus always chuckles a little when you act like this. it’s too cute for him to really handle. he will always smile at you when you show him affection like this

💚 he's not a very touchy-feely person, but he’s happy to return anything you are looking for. give him a hug? he’ll stroke your hair and give you a kiss on the head. holding his hand? he’ll interlock your fingers and give you a gentle squeeze. your affections are the perfect cure for his loneliness

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shriekshrike · 2 years

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y’know what’s really interesting about last night’s episode is that it really revealed the BIGGEST flaw that bells hells has as a party:

they don’t fucking trust each other enough. or rather, they don’t trust themselves.

sure, they have the “you can have my back, you can save my life, you can heal me and switch places with me in a fight, you can head into danger and come out just fine” trust because if they didnt, they wouldn’t have made it this far. literally.

but they’re all so fucking careful when it comes to their suspicions! chet never says anything to anyone about dusk, orym doesn’t say shit about reading chet’s and dusk’s lips, imogen doesn’t say boo about not being able to read dusk’s mind. it’s not that they don’t think the others aren’t capable, but more like “if i don’t get all my ducks in a row no one will believe me” which!! is so much. to think about.

because when it’s said like that it’s not like they don’t trust one another, it’s more like they DON’T TRUST THEMSELVES individually! which makes so much sense! ashton got betrayed by ppl they thought they knew better than anyone else in the world, FCG finds out someone they thought was dead is actually alive and never bothered to get them back and they’re also fucking glitching more and more often and he finds out not only did dancer not make them but also they are MUCH MUCH older than anything or anyone else they’ve ever met (pre divergence BABY aeor is for LOVERS nd robits), imogen was a hermit in her own fucking home bc no one wanted to be around the girl who could get into your head (not like she had a choice sometimes) and she doesn’t trust herself not to somehow cross lines with people whether that be on accident or on purpose, laudna licherally spent 30 years post-death being ousted from town to town because people found her a freak and a witch and has a DEAD NECROMANCER WHO KILLED HER IN HER HEAD, fearne is slowly coming to realization that her parents maybe weren’t sending her post cards all those years and that her life really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and her memory is a little fucky (that feywild shit, huh), orym still probably feels residual survivor’s guilt in being unable to protect the one person who really truly mattered to him and sees it as a failing in himself rather than just something that happened, chet is a werewolf who literally gets run out of towns because of what he is and he could literally lose control if he’s too hurt or out of it and hurt someone else (as seen w orym)

like they’re so...aware of the trust they have for one another, but because they don’t trust themselves, they never SAY SHIT bc they’re always second guessing their suspicions which is so fascinating to watch; they don’t trust themselves enough to follow their instincts to trust one another even moreso. they’ve all got like folie a deaux but it’s mass imposter syndrome instead.

and it’s not like dusk knew that abt the bells, but it worked so well in dusk’s favor bc even if it was an 11th hour realization and discovery for the pc’s who did start to get suspicious, it would have been enough time to maybe do something. but they DIDN’T and it kinda doomed them!

after this i hope they get more...confident in their own capabilities. or at least learn to trust their own guts without needing confirmation or waiting for all the chips to land. sometimes, you just gotta listen to the sirens in ur head because that’s the part of u that wants u to survive no matter what.

dusk says a lot of shit and idk how much was truth laced with the sweetness of lies you wanna hear, but they got one thing fucking right. bells hells are special. and they gotta realize it before it really lands them in hotter fucking water.

#cr spoilers #critical role #bells hells #i wuv them and i think about them a lot ok #they really gotta trust themselves #as much as they trust one another.

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slavghoul · 2 years

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Tobias Forge on Satanism, religion, etc.

Recently one of the most common questions I get here concerns the topic of Satanism – “Is Tobias actually a Satanist?”, “Are Ghost really devil worshippers or is this just a funny shtick?” and so on, and so forth. I have therefore compiled a few quotes from the man himself speaking about his personal views on Satanism and religion, as well as how the satanic themes translate into the world of Ghost. Perhaps it will help you form your own judgement on the matter.

On his personal relationship with Satanism

Sacramento News & Review, 2018

Are you a Satanist?

TF: From a strictly Christian point of view, if that means believing in a physical, half man, half-ram living in the underground, no, I don’t believe there is such a thing. I’m not the opposite either. And you know, I’m sure in the eyes of the beholder, if I was put in front of true god-fearing bible thumpers, I would probably be regarded as a Satanist just because I’m not a god-fearing bible thumper. But the concept of Satanism has many, many forms. In the last 50 years now, ever since [Anton] LaVey and pop-cultural Satanism, when that rose in the latter of the part of ’60s with the Church of Satan, and Black Sabbath and Black Widow and Coven and that sort of hippie Satanism, which at the end of the day, heavy metal, black metal, all that is based upon that cultural Satanism. I grew up with that. So from that point of view, I would definitely say that culturally, I am definitely, for lack of better way of putting it, I’m a devil-liking kind of guy. But I wouldn’t sacrifice a baby to a half-ram that I believe to be living in the underground. And I would never ever encourage anyone to do that.

Aftonbladet, 2016

I became interested in Satanism when I was 10-11, so I find it very difficult to have a clear intellectual approach to it. In the end, I became interested in it because I thought it was cool. Aesthetically, I think it's amazing. An incredibly fun and, for me, a very homey world. As I tell our children, the devil is our friend. The monsters are our friends. But I was much more convinced back then, than I am now. As a grown man, it's hard to buy the idea that if we take a shovel and dig into the ground, eventually we'll come across a half-buck in a burning inferno. Although it would have been an incredibly festive thought. What I know is that I haven't got a fucking clue. That's the only thing I'm absolutely convinced of.

Banger TV, 2019

Even though I am very, very, very fascinated with religion in many ways, I'm sort of staying in the pop cultural world when it comes to referencing the devil, and especially when I'm talking about my relationship to him. He appeared in my life through rock music, through films. I've been dressing myself with pentagrams and upside down crosses ever since I was 11 years old and was watching horror films and listening to music about Satan way before that. That's the difference I think between a musician born in the 40s that added the devil as a "hip" thing in 1969 to their musical movement, it was more an addition that they could do as grown-ups, whereas for me and a lot of my friends who grew up with black metal, death metal bands - it's part of our blood basically.

Psychology Today, 2018

I think in 99.9 percent of every so-called Satanist in the last 50 years, you would find that the vast majority of them have been introduced to the Devil via music. And it usually happens at a certain age as well. It was also the early '90s—so that was the rise of the death metal and black metal movement in Europe and in the world I guess. Especially in Sweden and Norway, it was a big thing. It was just right up my alley and it became such a powerful way of expressing myself, and how to not only deviate and differentiate myself from the norm and normal people but just like hand in glove with my way of seeing the world.

On the pop-cultural devil vs the biblical devil

Areena, 2019

What does Satan mean to you?

TF: For me personally, he or it, she... She has been such a faithful companion for the majority of my life - as a guide, as a mentor, as a symbol. The idea of the devil representing ‘evil’ as opposed to 'good’ does not… it clashes with my idea of the devil. Because the devil for me represents rock and roll, film, freedom, humor - essentially, my life and my background because it’s so coloured with so many “blasphemous” expressions. I think that’s one of the most common misconceptions that makes it so hard for people to fathom - that there’s obviously the biblical devil, and then you have the pop-cultural devil. The pop-cultural devil being very much a representative of freedom, intellectualism and liberation from the chains of handicapping worship of the three Abrahamic religions - because that’s what [these religions] are about, they’re about control. Satan represents, in the pop cultural sense, the opposite of that. In the Bible it represents evil, but I know very, very few things in the history of the world that have been perpetrated in the name of the devil that have been to the non-benefit of mankind, whereas… I mean, just look at the amount of abuse and human despair that has been caused in the name of 'good.’

Billboard, 2019

On the Satanic leanings: For me, it is very personal and important, but I struggle to define the differences between the pop-cultural Satan and the actual one – if you want to say it that way – because that’s even harder to define. [Since the 1960s, Satanism] has become a fun little thing for 20-somethings to play with. It has very much been embraced as a symbol of liberation, rather than a symbol of actual tyranny and evil. The pop-cultural Satan has an amazing importance for me, and that’s because I’m a born rebel and a natural ‘opposer,’ in that I oppose shit.

On whether there would be Satan without God: The Satan that we are most commonly referring to in the Western world is obviously a product of Christianity. Within the confines and context of Christianity, no. They cannot exist without the other. That’s the problem with the entire concept of Satanism because, depending on who you’re talking to – if you’re talking to a Bible thumper, Satan exists within the bras of women, and Satan exists within the confines of rock ‘n’ roll music and drugs and everything that would be considered quote ‘bad’ and ‘dangerous’ and ‘harmful.’ And I think that in rock ‘n’ roll and in pop culture, that is the thing that most people cling to. Satan as a symbol or symbolic role model represents liberation and free thought and fun. Intellectualism as opposed to regression and stupidity. But if you’re talking about Satan as the main peddler and the prime motor for evil – if I look at the world and I see evil, I think of ISIS and I think that’s pure evil, and that has nothing to do with a pop-cultural horned-goat half-man called Satan. So you really, really, really have to understand that the ‘Satan’ that has been embraced by artists in film, music, poetry, and art going back centuries was made to scare people.

On not being against religion but rather organized religion, and on not being an atheist

Rolling Stone Deutschland, 2019

I’m not against religion. I’m not against being religious. But I am against organized religion, the scriptures, because we know perfectly well that they are basically manifests put together by other people in order to control the rest. That’s not even a secret.

New York Post, 2018

The problem with religious doctrine, as with politics, because of its ability to give people authority, it has a tendency to attract people that want authority for all the wrong reasons, and that is what it has done across all time. But, then again, in all fairness, I am not saying that there shouldn’t be faith. It’s completely different things. The belief in something bigger and supernatural is not the same thing as linear religion.

Loudwire, 2015

I'm definitely not an atheist. Intellectually, obviously my intellect tells me one thing, but I want there to be something so I choose not to completely follow my intellect when it comes to the idea of there being a bigger being or beings that I cannot explain.

Psychology Today, 2018

I am not against the idea of believing. I am not an atheist. The whole institution of Christianity being based on that book, being based on the premise that he was conceived out of nowhere—it’s kind of hard to believe. But on the other hand, I do believe in the idea of a historic person named Jesus that was a kind of chill dude who was just telling people to chill and be nice to each other. And he got penalized for that. So I’m not dismissing the whole thing as bullsh*t. But I definitely believe that tormenting other people because of the Bible and for that to be—for lack of a better word, Gospel. I think that is not very nice.

Amusio, 2013

Are you afraid of death?

TF: I am not very afraid of death, only of the question of how I will die. I don't know what will happen to us when it's all over, but I'm not an atheist and I certainly believe in a higher, inexplicable existence out there with which we humans are more or less in contact. That's why I don't think that death is the end of our existence.

Rolling Stone Deutschland, 2019

How religious was your upbringing?

TF: Not very. I'd say that in my main home, which was with my mother and my brother, there was always spiritualism I would say. We were definitely not atheists, but it was more infused by the idea of there being greater things than what we know. But that takes the tools that we use to trigger these feelings and that comes from pop cultural powers, rather than scripture - if that makes sense. The power of rock’n’roll. The power of film. The power of a good book. And that combined sort of gives us hint that there might be something that we cannot explain.

US Time Today, 2022

I’ve always had an intense relationship with organized, linear religion, let’s put it that way. I’m very fascinated by the art and its history, but maybe not so much by the rules and the guilt.

On Satanism in Ghost

Pitchfork, 2013

The theme of Satanism, tongue-in-cheek or not, has a long tradition in heavy metal. How important is it to what you guys are doing?

TF: Well thematically, obviously, it’s alpha to omega, that’s what we’re doing. The sort of Satanism, or devil-worship, that we want to portray in the confines of Ghost, a very biblical version of goat worship, the sort of things that you see in a Satanic Panic movie. And obviously in the theatre that is Ghost, everything is supposed to feel like it’s orthodox devil-worshipping. As an audience member, you can choose to believe whatever you want to. And you can choose to partake, or you can choose not to.

Hard Force, 2015

We are not necessarily singing about God or Satan, we're singing about what we think and how we treat each other because of what we believe is God and Satan. All of a sudden, that's a way bigger scope than most other cult-oriented rock bands do, because normally it's just odes to this, that and the other.

Telegraph, 2022

When we’re talking about darkness, death, despair, it’s to express our discontent at the world. It’s our way to explain how shit things are.

Loudwire, 2018

We’re trying to make people happy about life. We’re actually quite humanistic. If you take all of these things that we’re saying and what we’re doing completely literally, and you believe that this is equal to damnation, then there’s no way that we can meet intellectually. As a human, I grieve for tendencies like that because I think it reflects on something somber, limited and regressive.

#tobias forge #the band ghost #trivia

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fanficsforfun · 1 year

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Pretty as a peach

Paring: Merle Dixon x shy female reader

Era: Woodbury

Word count: 1,6k

Warnings: body insecurity, some hard language and sexual tension

Summary: You have had a problem with your looks for a long time, but then you meet Merle who, as surprising it is, makes you feel better about yourself.

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You weren't always too happy with your body. There were things you wanted to change, things that had bothered you for a long time. And because of them, you felt somehow less of a woman, which, despite knowing it was stupid, was undoubtedly one of the worst feelings you had ever experienced.

After the hell broke loose things had changed. Not because you had no time to think about your looks anymore (well, that had in fact been the case for the first half a year or so) but because you met someone who saw you worthy of his attention. That someone was Merle Dixon, a rowdy Southern redneck who everyone seemed to hate or be afraid of. Before you met him, you had been in Woodbury for a few days and quickly found out how others perceived him. They even warned you about him, told you it’s better to stay away from him. It had made you nervous and hoping you wouldn’t even have to meet him, that he wouldn’t ever come back from the supply run. But you should have known not to believe any rumors.

When Merle had got back, he had noticed you pretty much right away. You could still remember it like it was yesterday; you had been walking towards him on the street, and he had studied you closely, his eyes lingering on your body way longer than what would be appropriate, before stopping in front of you.

"I don't think I've seen ya around here before" was the first thing he had said to you. His tone had been flirty and his body language and the way he looked at you got butterflies fluttering in your belly. He wasn't like you had expected. Not quite. He wasn't threatening or repelling, on the contrary he was somehow... charming.

“What’s your name, sugar?” He had asked, making the butterflies in your belly go crazy. Somehow you had still managed to introduce yourself.

“You’re a newcomer, ain’t ya?” He had guessed, and after you had answered affirmatively but explained you had been around for a few days already, he had continued: “Then ya probably have already heard all the flattering opinions these ladies here have of ol’ Merle.”

You had nodded, becoming visibly nervous.

“Don’t ya worry, darling, I'm not all that bad”, Merle had ginned before stepping out of your way to let you walk past him. “I’ll see ya around”, he had added.

You had continued on your way, your heart pounding, and feeling confused. The others considered Merle more or less like a monster, but that wasn't the impression you got. Sure, he was bold and the prosthesis and his rugged appearance made him look kinda scary but he had still been rather nice to you.

Your conflicted feelings got even worse when the Governor organized a little show where men fought each other, surrounded by walkers. The whole form of "entertainment" terrified you, but you couldn't help but admire Merle's hand-to-hand combat skills. He had gone there voluntarily and did great. Still, it was a foolish thing to do, a stupid way of showing off. As if people didn’t already know he was a tough guy.

By this day, your conflicted feelings had not disappeared, but your positive feelings were nevertheless stronger. Unlike anyone ever before, Merle flirted with you whenever he could and always seemed happy to see you. He had even made a habit of calling you “pretty as a peach”, which you learned was a great compliment in the southern states. And he often said something dirty but cute in the middle of a conversation or just as passing by.

It wasn’t just what he said though; he was also touching you all the time. While you were reaching for something on the top shelf, Merle might come up behind you, place his good hand on your waist, on the bare skin your shirt had exposed, and ask if you needed help. Or he might slap your ass as he walked past you. Or brush your neck or lower back discreetly whenever he was close enough to do so. And you always blushed and a smug grin always spread across his face. It was a bit crazy, but you loved every second.

One day, you were heading to the laundry room when Merle appeared seemingly out of nowhere to walk beside you.

"Mornin’, sweetheart", he greeted you. "Where are ya off to this early?"

“Morning”, you replied with a pleased smile. “I gotta do the laundry and I rather do it right away than leave it later. It’s not too nice to do at noon, it gets too hot there.”

"Hardworking little girl, I must admit", he chuckled. "Ya want some company?"

"Sure thing", you accepted the offer and gave him a shy glance accompanied with a timid grin.

“Oh, come on! We’ve known each other for some time now, and you’re still all shy and quiet around me.”

You blushed and lowered your gaze. He was absolutely right and it irritated you. Merle was pleasant to be around, even though he might surprise you with his straightforward comments or his shameless touches. But you didn’t mind, quite the opposite in fact - you enjoyed it. So why didn't you have the courage to show him how you felt? You didn’t know. Every time you thought about it, you just got really nervous and never managed to do it. Never.

"I'm sorry", you muttered sheepishly. "You're not bothering me or anything, I just..."

But you couldn't finish your sentence so you just let your voice trail off. Silence fell between the two of you but then Merle stopped you at the door of the laundry room and looked at you seriously.

"Well, clearly not. It seems to me that ya downright seekin’ my company... So be straight with me now, darling. Do ya have feelings for me?"

You were visibly surprised by his words, but then nodded slowly. You wanted him to know it, and since he had asked, there was no way you would have lied. Now when he knew, you felt a rush of relief but then the nervousness hit you again. And what's gonna happen now, you wondered before Merle's voice interrupted your thoughts.

"That's all I need to know."

His tone had changed from serious back to teasing and the next thing you knew, his hand was wrapped in your hair, the other on your waist and his lips pressed against yours. You gasped in surprise but didn't have time to do anything before he pulled away.

"Hope ya didn’t mind that", he grinned.

"I didn't", you managed to say, dropping your laundry bag on the ground and deciding to interpret the kiss as an okay for a hug. So you wrapped your arms around Merle and pressed yourself tightly against him, letting your eyes fall shut. He had his arms wrapped around you too and you were completely surrounded by him. His body was strong yet soft against yours, his arms protectively closed around you. You sighed and snuggled tighter against him. Oh, how wonderful it felt.

"Hmm, ya really have a thing for me, don't ya?" His voice was low and both gentle and mischievous at the same time.

“Uh-huh”, you mumbled. You wanted to say more than that, but you didn't have the words to describe how you felt at that moment. The morning around you was cool and quiet except for the birds singing, but you didn't feel cold. Merle's body exuded enough warmth to keep you cozy. For once, after a long time, you felt totally calm.

“Well then girl, ya gotta go doin’ your laundry, don’t ya think?” Merle's voice entered your mind after a moment of just standing there with your arms around each other.

“Yeah, but can’t that wait?” You asked, not willing to let go just yet.

“Oh, so now it’s ‘not gonna let go of ol’ Merle’”? He chuckled.

“Um, yeah.”

Merle laughed. "I ain't goin’ nowhere, if that's what you're afraid of. Let's get the laundry done and we'll have the rest of the day to do whatever the hell we please!"

Now it was your turn to laugh. You agreed and were happy to see Merle actually follow you into the laundry room and help you with the water and all. It was something you never in a million years would have expected but there he was, heating up the water in a kettle and pouring it into the washing tub. You couldn’t help but smile. He didn't, however, want to do any washing. Not so that you would mind, it was your laundry after all, not his. And how could he even get it done with only one hand?

While washing your laundry, Merle stood behind you and let his good hand wander along your body. The touch carried so much desire yet it was gentle, more like caress than anything else. And gosh, you loved it. Whenever you took a break from what was, frankly, exhausting work, you leaned against him and rested your hands on the edge of the tub. It was hot in the laundry room and you were sweaty, but Merle didn't seem to mind. Instead he made his usual dirty comments to which you giggled.

Once the laundry was done and hung out to dry, you and Merle were free unless the Governor would come up with something for him to do. Free to do whatever you wanted, as Merle had said. And you had a certain idea in mind. And so did he, for that matter.

#merle dixon #merle dixon x reader #merle x reader #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #fanfiction

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acollectionofficsandshit · 1 year

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Chapter 14: Three of Us

Max Verstappen x Reader (Single Dad AU)

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13

Chapters: 14/?

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 11,661 Words

Masterlist

I’d like to thank @lightsovermonaco for being my beta and for more importantly keeping me sane because without her influence it’s anyone’s guess where I’d be. I also owe @sassybatflowerpaper an enormous thank you, not only for being my friend but because this story, at it’s very core, is our love child.

Sunday, November 18th, 2018- Monte Carlo, Monaco

The Penthouse

"Who knows? She might change her mind... might be back as soon as tomorrow or Tuesday," the false bravado with which Max makes this declaration might be enough to sway himself into believing the insanity of his own words but it doesn’t quite do the trick for Daniel, not by a long shot.

"Because you never really know, do you? Anything could happen! Isn't that what people say?”

He just stares blankly back at his teammate, not saying a word but not needing to; his silence speaks for itself, more than capable of holding its own.

"That is what people say, right? Did I get it wrong?" Max asks in a rush, sounding genuinely concerned by the mere possibility he’d somehow managed to get the phrasing so incorrect that it was indecipherable and well beyond any hope of Daniel’s recognition, “it's simple and it sounds right in my head, but I guess I could have-"

"I mean, yeah, mate, they do. They definitely do say that... sometimes," he was doing his very best to not let the laugh building in his chest out because he wasn't a fucking idiot and he knew damn well that the worst thing he conceivably do right now would be to so much as chuckle once.

Oh, he was fully fucking aware that it was infinitely more probable that Max would take kindly to having Daniel spit in his face than he ever would to being openly laughed at the moment– and he could respect that.

"See?" the younger man says proudly, gesturing as if the tentative, begrudging concession he'd just made was some sort of irrefutable evidence, which hadn't come with a very obvious 'but' hanging over its very head, "you said so yourself-"

"But normally, when people say 'anything can happen' they usually mean things that could actually feasibly happen or, you know, like natural disasters and shit? Not like your kind of thing because those, those, are in an entirely different neighborhood... like they're in one that doesn't exist."

Because unlike the delusions that plague his companion, Daniel isn't blinded to the realities of the situation. Thank God for small mercies, which at the very least meant it wouldn't be blind leading the blind– at least not yet. He didn't know if he could stomach the circumstances devolving to such indignities this early on in the grand scheme of things.

Not when they still had the better part of a week to get through, preferably mostly unscathed with all their limbs still attached. Well, that was if you asked Daniel how long they had left, rather than taking Max at his word, since he seemed to be the only one out of the two of them who had any true, lasting intention of holding loyal to fact– which in this particular instance was the definitive timeframe you'd given for when you'd be back.

That went without even mentioning the reality of just how fucking far you'd been pushed in recent weeks, where there was no doubt in his mind that the physical and mental drain of the season had only further exacerbated the considerable emotional toll that your responsibilities, Max and Kaia had taken on you, all of which had been compounded by the meeting at Red Bull last week.

Because it was crystal fucking clear to Daniel what exactly, or perhaps who exactly, it was that had been the very last straw, that had dealt the final blow to your defenses and had brought every thought, emotion and unresolved conflict you'd been so neatly tucked away to face at a later date, when there was the time to do such a thing, crashing down over your head... though such obvious conclusions seemed to have escaped Max's senses in their entirety.

Perhaps that was why he had little patience for the younger man's head in the sand antics this morning, because while complete and utter lack of self-awareness was the baseline from which his teammate perpetually operated, and Daniel had long ago accepted such things as standard practice, this was where he drew the line.

You were where he drew the line.

And he'd be damned if he simply sat by and let Max cross it out of his own blundering stupidity again without saying a single word to the contrary. As it was, Daniel felt guilty enough for not having done more to protect you prior to now, for not having taken preventive action that could have eliminated the threat of the very situation you all found yourselves in at the moment, for not having stepped the second things teetered towards getting out of hand, without continuing to stand idly by and not at the very least try to make amends for his own failings and those of his team.

Daniel had absolutely no qualms about resorting to unapologetic honesty because he couldn't have cared less about how the Austrian felt right now than he did at present. Because the way he saw it, it was likely better that he resorts to harsh words and brutal frankness than any of the other means of communication he was tempted to use because, fucking shit, was he itching to find out if a right hook to the side of the head would in fact prove to be sufficient enough to knock some sense back into the other man.

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Max," he said dismissively, catching his friend by the collar of his sweatshirt and hauling him sideways, breaking him from the repetitive back and forth pattern he'd been incessantly pacing across the living by forcing him bodily down onto the overstuffed sofa.

"So, let's abandon this insane little pipe dream that you've cooked up– where at just any moment now, she'll going to come waltzing back in through the door," Daniel jammed a thumb in the direction of the elevator, not wanting to leave the man opposite him with so much as a shadow of a doubt to cling to, "because while I do hate to have to break it to you, none of that will be fucking happening any time soon. Just- just enough of that, alright? Let's give it a fucking rest already."

Even amongst all the truth that was held in his words, he couldn't bring himself to entirely ignore the glimmer of something false interwoven into the statement, a singular thread of a lie– Daniel didn't hate being the one to break it to Max at all, not even in the slightest.

Because if he were to be brutally frank about the matter, he was actually fucking living for this opportunity to be the bearer of bad news and everything it was currently affording him.

"Oh, and do me a favor?" Daniel asks on a whim, and his spontaneity gets him little more than a noncommittal grunt out of Max in reply, "if it's not too much to ask, when you get up off that couch, first why don't you give taking a fucking breath or two a go? Just try it on for size. You know, before you pass out cold and bust your head open on the ugly ass coffee table someone with just shit taste picked out-"

"I'll tell my ma that the next time she phones," he says with a wrinkle of his nose, the younger man's tone halfheartedly pandering to taking real personal offense on his mother's behalf, "when she's all 'oh! And how is Daniel doing lately?' I'll be sure to say, 'thank you for asking! he's been fine, but he says you've got shit taste in furniture-'"

"And shit taste in men too but she probably already knows that bit because Jos just really speaks for himself," his retort earns him the exact snort of a laugh Dan had been expecting it to with blind confidence, knowing that without the amused sound of consensus out of Max, the possibility of that particular remark being well received was utterly out of the question.

"No one is going to argue with you on that. Least of all me."

"Brilliant! Then let's make better decisions than their generation did and just keep our thoughts to ourselves, hm? And while we're at it, why don't you pop your listening ears back on and hear me when I tell you to inhale some fucking air over there because I'm not taking you to the hospital so you can get stitches-- No, no... I'll be super gluing your face back together and then going on about my day. Got it?"

"Whatever."

"No, not whatever, there was a question there. So, again– you got it?"

"Yeah, fine, Daniel. I get it. Happy now?"

"'Course, mate. I'm over the fucking moon about it because what I won't be doing with my afternoon is cleaning blood off of a goddamn thing either. Is that understood?"

"Jesus Christ, okay! I understand! Watch," Max says, waving both hands needlessly towards himself, directing him to pay close attention as though he was genuinely concerned Daniel might miss the over-exaggerate rise and fall of his chest, which heaved with every ragged breath in and dramatic breath out, if he wasn't told where to look.

"Wonderful, you can breathe! Get up. We're going out," turning his head to look over one shoulder, he shouts loud enough that his words are echoing through the entire apartment, "Kaia! Front door, five minutes! We're going out for lunch and Da's paying!"

Grumbling at the addition, Max pulls himself to his feet and begins collecting the random items he'd left scattered haphazardly across the surface of the coffee table the night before as he calls out, "Vlinder, remember! Shoes, jacket, pants; check! All of them, on!" he pauses, roughly shoving everything back into his pockets where it had all undoubtedly come from before raising his voice to add, "I mean it, it's too cold for just your Elsa dress, I don't care what the movie says, you will freeze!"

"You know, that's not really the way her magic works in the movie because you see-" Daniel chimes in brightly, starting to breakdown the inaccuracies of the former's statement without a care in the world until he looks up and catches a glimpse of Max glowering over at him, then falls immediately silent.

"No one goes anywhere until my eyes are on you, Kaia-- and you're dressed! Fully!"

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

Monday, November 19th, 2018- Monte Carlo, Monaco

Daniel's Apartment

Max doesn't concern himself with anything so inconsequential as having any shred of common decency this morning simply because Daniel was still sleeping soundly at this hour– that would hardly have been conducive to his plans for the day since by his count, they were already an hour behind on schedule.

And he really doesn't care to admit just how many times he's checked his phone this morning, let alone in last hour because things are already starting to get really fucking pathetic. As if that weren't enough, there's the matter of his slow, steady descent into full blown obsession over where you are and what you're doing and why in the hell he's not heard back from you since Friday night to contend with... and Goddamn, does Max hate all of this.

He can't bear the thought of unlocking it again and again and again, only to open his texts to see more of the same– a screen full of nothing but his messages, delivered and unread, the monotony of which is broken only by the single photo of Kaia he'd snapped at lunch yesterday and then promptly sent in a desperate last ditch attempt to break the silence. To no avail. .

So, simply put, he may have ruled out throwing his phone off of Daniel's balcony, if only because he doesn't want to deal with the lecture that will earn him, but that doesn't mean he's going to handle any of this in a healthy manner. No, no... Max has decided he's going to deal with this the worst way he knows how, the tried and true method of packing his schedule so full of bullshit activities that there's no time to spare for anything else.

"Kaia! Get a move on, it's time!" He calls out down the hallway in a stage whisper, his words softened purely in the interest of preserving the element of surprise, waiting impatiently as his daughter comes scuttling towards him with a wicked little grin on her face, "just like we rehearsed, okay?"

"Okay! Okay!" The toddler nods her little blonde head in agreement, practically levitating with excitement, her riot of sleep tousled curls bouncing along wildly, adding only further emphasis to her exaggerated movements, "Da! Come on! Come on!"

"Ready?" Max already knows the answer, but he still asks it all the same, enjoying the childish anticipation Kaia is consumed by right now, her joy over something so simple as wreaking chaos and her enthusiasm at the mere prospect of inciting parental approved mischief is enough to brighten even his sour mood, leaving him grinning in spite of himself as he carefully twists the handle of Daniel's bedroom door and pushes it open.

Giving the three-year-old at his side a solemn salute, they tiptoed into the room as quietly as they could manage, his daughter giggling softly to herself as she crept forward, pretending to be a little mouse, just like they'd been practicing since she'd woken up with the rising sun hours ago. He'd had to come up with something to keep her occupied this morning or the entire apartment building would have been in for a very rude awakening.

Quite simply, it was a matter of acting in the best interest of the greater good because clearly, one man's loss of sleep was everyone else's gain. So, really, if you stopped and thought about it, Max was just being a good, considerate neighbor here.

Sure, he might be serving up his teammate like a lamb for the slaughter and yes, the argument could be made that, at the very least, he should be feeling some modicum of guilt over the decision to sic Kaia on an unsuspecting Daniel but that hardly seemed like enough to dissuade Max from seeing this through.

His mind was made up and there would be no changing it now, not when the plan was already in motion, his three year old a step or three ahead of him, and all but bouncing off the walls of the narrow hallway which feeds from the door of the master suite into the bedroom proper, flowing elegantly past the pair of darkly shadowed archways that hide away the massive marble bath and the walk in closet from view.

It's already a beat too late when Max realizes what's about to happen because in the time it takes from one second to the next, for him to put two and two together, his little speed demon of a daughter has already thrown caution to the wind and bolted forward. Kaia doesn't hesitate, she doesn't waste so much as a fraction of an instant before she's gone, no, she knows better than that, knows better than to waste the advantage that the element of surprise and a slight head start have given her.

In the blink of an eye the toddler is rounding the corner into the room beyond in a blur of sunshine yellow curls and baby pink pajamas, Kaia's vanished from his line of sight before he's close half of the original distance he'd let lapse between them. Max knows he's got no one to blame for this but himself because he's become endlessly well versed on the dangers of growing complacent around his daughter, this is squarely on him.

Shaking his head at himself, the motion is less one of genuine agitation at the situation or annoyance with Kaia and more one of lighthearted, self-aggrandizing amusement, the solid warmth of which floods his chest, the weight welcome and savored, it's steady thrumming presence favoring a spot on his left that sits high behind the banded shelter of his ribcage– it's a heady thing to experience, emotions like these, when most of your life has been spent feeling them sparingly, for brief, fleeting moments.

So, when Max reaches the end of the hallway, it with a rye smile on his face and he's a little less inclined to get lost in the depths of his own mind than he'd been only a moment prior, the world around him seems to have come into sharper relief than it had all morning, the edges of his vision no longer soft and out of focus.

It becomes immediately apparent that in part and parcel with Kaia's impatient, borderline impetuous insistence upon self-sufficiency, she'd dismissed the remainder of the original plan of action without a second thought and struck out on her own rogue mission. Where his daughter had been meant to wait for him to pick her up and put her atop the sleek, wooden footboard of Daniel's bed, she had instead improvised and climbed the monstrosity herself, which meant she was now struggling to keep her balance, teetered precariously back and forth, solely focused on standing on the narrow surface unassisted.

He just shrugs his shoulders at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line, both eyebrows raised in silent judgment in an expression that conveys, in no uncertain terms, 'what do you want me to do about it?' Max knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Kaia has heard him, loud and clear, because all he gets back is a blank, unimpressed glare, one which very nearly succeeds at maintaining the facade that she's not internally starting to panic but that betrays her at the last moment when her bottom lip trembles.

God help them all, he thinks to himself, when in a last ditch attempt to convince herself she is in fact large and in charge and has not just vastly overestimated her capabilities, his daughter puts a hand on her hip and strikes a pose intended to be the physical embodiment of unwavering confidence.

It serves only to remind Max of just how young Kaia actually is because the little girl is so precocious and headstrong, and already such a force to be reckoned with, he often finds it hard to believe she's just three years old. Not for the first time, he wonders if she's just always been like this or if the behavioral traits which he now sees on the daily and as has just always known as her own are as new to Kaia as they are to him.

Max detests the thought that perhaps the cause for all this, the key motivating factor for why his daughter is already so vividly reminiscent of his five-year-old youngest sister is because of the upheaval she's had in recent years; he fears more than anything that Kaia's psyche has been altered beyond recognition by the loss of her mother, by the life altering changes she's already faced in her short little life.

Most of all, he fears that the child he knows, who is as much yours, as she is his– the one standing here before him, half alight with anticipatory excitement to prank her uncle, just happy to be included, and half petrified by the height she stands atop but who's fear is metered by the absolute trust she puts in him, in her father, who knows with unwavering certainty that he will not let not an harm befall her– now bears utterly no resemblance to the Kaia that Vittoria had known and loved and raised since birth.

Yeah, no, this is not going to fucking work, it's simply not sustainable for matters to continue on in the same manner they have up until this point. Max and his tendency to permit his life to be derailed by the dark clouds which insist rather firmly upon gathering overhead at the very first sign of grey skies have stolen enough from him in the past. He will permit it to go no farther.

Because at this point in his life, and thanks in large part to the harsh realities of his career, it's hardwired into him to realize what's happened, react to it and respond accordingly all in the same fraction of a second– and just as learning there's no time for mistakes in racing is a trial by fire, the same can be said for raising a child.

For whatever reason, it only dawns upon Max now that, in much the same way it's been ingrained in him to close his mind off prior to a race and narrow the confines of his world down to only what his five sense give him about the car under him, the track in around him and the radio in his ear, he needs to train himself to start applying the same rules to his everyday life, especially in moments like this.

He has to do better about living in the present, instead of in his head or the past, and that change has to begin now.

"Da—"

It was instinct, not a conscious decision or cognizant thought that made quick work of the remaining bureaucratic roadblocks keeping him bogged down inside his own mind, cutting to the chase and right through the mental red tape obstructing the way, and all because his daughter had whispered one word to him in the otherwise still slumbering, steady silence of the sun warmed room.

"Come here," Max is careful to keep his voice low and slow as he gestures for Kaia to reach for him, knowing that it would take more than the two of them speaking in hushed whispers to rouse Daniel, since the latter slept like the dead, "come on."

"Come on," she parrots back at him in a poor imitation of his hushed tone, her volume no doubt skewed by the flicker of fear he catches in her expression before it vanishes, replaced by a look of determination that unconsciously has him nodding approvingly up at her. Little hands first make contact with the sleep wrinkled fabric of his shirt, clutching white knuckled at the cotton neckline, in the beat before his grasp closes around Kaia's middle and he hauls her down off the footboard she'd been balanced on.

"There we go. Well done, vlinder," Max offers his daughter a cheeky grin, tucking her against his chest as she loosens her hold on his t-shirt in favor of throwing both arms around his neck and settling in with the side of her head resting against his own, pressed cheek to cheek, "change of plans?"

"Yes!" And just like that Kaia has her eye back on the ball, her attention once again entirely devoted to the promise of mischief, the fleeting remnants of fear from her near brush with a fall wholly forgotten. He'd known that the tempting offer to create chaos, even if it was sanctioned chaos, would be too good for the three year old to turn down.

Once he's finished whispering the hastily cobbled together plan conspiratorially in her ear, there's a brief back and forth discussion, one which mostly involves the repetition of the same words over and over again punctuated by Kaia's giggles and his half hearted shushing of them until she has nothing more to say or question or add. It takes less time than he'd expected it to.

And at the very least, Daniel has had the decency to stay dead to the world asleep.

"Ready? On the count of three, pool toss," Max prompts, briefly demonstrating the intended range of motion by swinging Kaia through the air in the direction of the bed, going so far as to fully extend both arms without ever letting go of her.

The toddler hardly reacts at all to the practiced movement, far too delighted by her father's use of the term she'd coined during the weekend of the United States grand prix when he'd been forced to actually bribe her with vending machine candy to get her to leave the hotel pool without a scene being caused, to care much about anything else.

"Okay... one, two, three!"

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

Quite frankly, Daniel has no qualms about admitting that he can be a bit of a bitch when it comes to early mornings and even more so when those early mornings are directly preceded by very late nights where a very sulky and at present very mean teammate has invaded his house and brought his bullshit with him.

What he also won't be mincing words over is the fact that as far as he's concerned right now, which if he's not mistaken is somewhere only slightly past eight o'clock in the fucking morning, Max has only one redeeming quality— and that quality is currently jumping up and down on his bed while loudly making demands he wake up.

Kaia is lucky Daniel loves her as much as he does because if it was just about anyone else in the world that had woken him up, his attitude would be in the basement level of hell. It doesn't escape his notice that Max, quite rightly, the fucking bastard, has carefully placed himself outside of arm's reach.

"Uncle Dan! Uncle Dan! Uncle Dannnn!" Though he hadn't thought it possible, Kaia somehow manages to get louder still when she stops bouncing around long enough to realize he's fully opened both his eyes now that he's thrown in the towel on merely squinting one eyed at Max in the hopes the younger man would back down and resigned himself to reality he won't be going back to sleep any time soon.

Still, it's not the toddler's fault her dad's a moody fucking prick, is it? Obviously not.

"That was my name last time I checked," he makes a half hearted effort to sit up, only to realize it would take more energy than he was willing to put forth at the moment and immediately abandons the effort, "which I believe was some time around 3 am and the second or fourth barbie movie."

"That sounds about right to me," the man he'd once considered to be a friend says lightly as he throws himself down into the leather chair that occupies the far corner of the room, grinning, obviously quite happy with himself and whatever rotten plot it is he's been up concocting since God only knows when.

While Daniel had yet to set his heart on the means or method just yet, he'd had no such delays when it came to his absolute certainty that Max would be made to pay for his crimes against humanity here shortly.

"Oh, does it?" he retorts with hollow sincerity, the facade of utter relief at hearing such good news painted across his features, a hand over his heart, "I am just overjoyed to hear it!"

Max has nothing further to contribute, concerning himself instead with getting comfortable where he's sat, careful to keep the phone, which Daniel somehow hadn't seen until now, held aloft at an angle which really drives the point home that this is all being caught on camera– and the smug bitch just waves at him.

"Uncle Dannnnnn, good morning! Morning!"

"Kaia-" since there's no sign of her jumping stopping any time soon, Daniel takes matters into his own hands, reaching for a pillow with one hand as he props himself up with the other, "this can go one of two ways, Ms. Thing– you can choose to sit down and I'll make you whatever your heart desires for breakfast or you can choose not to sit down and leave me no choice but to start a pillow fight. What's it gonna be?"

"Waffles, please!" She chirrups immediately, like the smart child she is, and flings herself down onto the bed all sprawled out on her back like a starfish. But unfortunately for them both, when Kaia hits the mattress, her deadweight has the misfortune to land directly atop the duvet covered line of his lower legs.

"Sold," Daniel says with a solemn nod, formally acknowledging her request with the twin of her excited grin painted across his own face.

He then continues, waggling both eyebrows at the little girl before casually asking, "so... you want to see something super cool?" and promptly launches the pillow he still holds in one hand directly at Max's head as hard as he can.

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

Monday, November 19th, 2018- Monte Carlo, Monaco

Daniel's Apartment

"Everyone gets to pick the main activity for one day, alright? So, take a moment, think it over, brainstorm— I don't care, just think of something and be ready when I call on you. Got it?"

"Got it, Da!" Kaia responds back brightly, though Max isn't entirely convinced she has any real idea what she's agreeing to, she's got the right attitude about it, so he lets her have this, opting to leave her to her own devices.

He has little interest in making her second guess herself when, at the end of the day, he'd rather his daughter have confidence that's slightly misplaced than none at all. And honestly, he's just so grateful that his daughter is happy and smiling and brimming with energy again that he hardly knows what to do with himself.

So no, he won't be calling into question the toddler's comprehension levels or what she chooses to add to the conversation being had over breakfast.

Similarly, Max absolutely will not be commenting on what she's chosen to eat this morning because at least she was finally eating something– even if that something happened to be a stack of powder sugar dusted waffles that he knows and has already accepted that Kaia will end up wearing more of than she manages to actually eat.

He bites his tongue when, unsurprisingly, she points one chubby little finger at the bottle of maple syrup held in Daniel's hand then down at her plate, only to clap her hands together delightedly when her uncle does as he was silently asked, pouring an obscene amount of the sugary liquid over the waffles.

"Your wish is my command," Daniel says with a dramatic flourish of his hand, sketching a quick mock bow in his direction, much to Kaia's delight, before being forced to abandon the gesture when Max whips a pillow full force at his face from across the room.

"Alright, alright! Jesus, watch the nose, that's my money maker you know! Break it and I break your... well I don't know, if I figure out how to break your bad attitude or your death wish like you just tried to break my beautiful face, I'll let you know but until then, maybe consider putting some of your considerable wealth into getting hotter? At least then we could be on equal footing."

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up before I change my mind and revoke your right to have any input... ever... on anything."

"Bite me," the Australian says with a long suffering sigh, "but fine, I'll play nice. For now, at least."

"Thank you. Now was that so hard?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be a real bastard when you want to be, Verstappen?"

"It has been said a time or two," Max finally acknowledges with a slow, solemn nod of his head, his gaze remaining slightly upturned in a continued show of racking his memory for any instances in which similar remarks had been made in the past, "though rarely, if ever, to my face."

"Oh okay, so now we're just blatantly rewriting history over breakfast? Good to know," Daniel huffs out a breath, rolling his eyes at his teammate, "holding true to character, aren't we?"

"Are you quite finished?" He inquires in a cool, casual disinterested tone of voice, refusing outright to let the new, icy cold edge of genuine annoyance that cuts the flow of the other man's words like a frigid undercurrent, get a rise out of him.

Instead, awaiting reply he can feel the beginning of as it builds to a fever's pitch in his friend, already simmering just below the surface, Max reaches for Kaia's plate and pulls it closer to himself, busying himself with cutting her waffles into more manageable, bite sized pieces. He has little choice but to turn a deaf ear to her protestations, the little girl stalwart in her insistence that she can do it herself, but which he knows she absolutely cannot.

"Say thank you," Max admonishes, pushing his daughter's breakfast, now neatly sliced and diced, and no longer presenting quite such a choking hazard, back in front of her, "even if you don't mean it."

"Thank you, Da," Kaia mumbles under her breath with a slightly put out expression on her face, leaving her delicate button nose slightly wrinkled and colors her chubby little cheeks with a warm, pink hued flush.

As a whole, her reaction does very little to undermine his rather immediate impression that for all her efforts to the contrary, the three-year-old is more grateful for his intervention than she wants to let on. Judging by the gusto with which she's now tucking into her waffles alone, Max has more than enough to work with by way of an unofficial answer.

"It's not going anywhere, Vlinder. No one is going to take your food from you, so, just slow it down."

Kaia says something back but he's at a total loss as to what exactly it was, since the retort came out a garbled mess, and even he couldn't hope to decipher what it was she'd intended to say. She looks momentarily frustrated as she looks around the table, her blonde curls bouncing as she peers back and forth between himself and Daniel, before she shrugs and returns to eating but still clearly put out that neither one of them understood what she'd been trying to say.

"You look like a chipmunk," Max playfully pokes at her cheek, which bulges with uneaten, half chewed waffle, "let's focus on taking one bite at a time and finishing it before we take another. If you want more, you can have more. There's no need to hoard away breakfast like we're preparing for winter."

"I like chipmunks," the toddler says proudly, beaming at what he'd intended to be a light-handed reprimand, but which had clearly missed the mark.

"You stopped listening after I said chipmunk, didn't you?"

She nods excitedly, eyes bright as she sits up slightly straighter in her seat and asks, with an air of conspiratorial intrigue about her, "what is a chipmunk?"

"What do you mean what's a chipmunk? I thought you said you liked them. How do you know you like them if you don't know what they are?" Setting down his fork and knife, his efforts to finish his own breakfast temporarily put on hold, Max turns to fully face his daughter. He's genuinely interested to hear exactly how this all works itself out inside her head because personally, he doesn't even know where to start, let alone how to go about figuring this out on his own.

"Becauseeee my brain told me I like 'em," she doesn't even have to actually say 'duh' aloud for it to make itself known, since the implication is clear enough, "we-" he assumes that here, 'we' refers to herself and her brain, though he's uncertain as to why she views the two of them as separate entities, "don't remember what it- they- no, it look like."

"What it looks like," he corrects before he can stop himself or think better of it, the words said mostly out of a deeply ingrained habit than anything else.

Accordingly, Max is hardly surprised when his addition elicits him little more than a sassy, dismissive little sigh from Kaia, followed up by the rather immediate introduction of a mildly well-deserved cold shoulder. Making no efforts to hide the extent to which she feels insulted, the three-year-old scoots around in her chair, stubbornly insistent upon putting as much distance as she possibly can between herself and where her father still sits, watching her minute rebellion in a less than impressed silence.

"You done? Can I apologize now?"

"No," she doesn't bother to so much as glance in his direction, allotting him only as much of her attention as can be gleaned from the two short letters of her response, the three-year-old looks instead to the sole remaining party present, who's status as a non-offender has earned him the full extent of her attention.

"Don't be like that, I'm sorry, alright?" He knows it's too little, too late but the fact doesn't keep him from trying to right his wrong, "I shouldn't have corrected you, Kaia, it wasn't helpful."

She just turns her little nose up at his own admittedly lame attempt at apologizing.

"Look– he's not even paying attention," Max points out unhelpfully, waving a hand at Daniel in spite of himself since he already knows from past experience that all his efforts have a high likelihood to be in vain, "but I am. And I'm very, very sorry."

"Uncle Dad," he tries and fails to stifle the sound of jealous distaste that builds in the back of his throat at the nickname his daughter is quite deliberate in her use of here, "what's a chipmunk?"

"It's an animal, a mammal if you want to be exact. Give me one more second to finish this," Daniel says with a jerk of his chin in the direction of his phone, his eyes shifting momentarily from the brightness of the screen held in his hands to find Kaia's gaze, his thumbs never slowing in their movement, typing something even as he continues, "we can search them online and you can look at pictures of chipmunks until you're bored to tears."

"Yeah?" Kaia sounds intrigued by the offer, leaning further forward in her seat until Max starts to worry that she's liable to tip the whole chair over if she's not careful. Not that he gets a chance to say a single thing.

"Kaia, sit back before you fall, I'm not taking you to the hospital if you crack your head open, we've got better things to do with our time than that."

"Fineeee," the toddler whines but does as she's told without any further to do, maintaining the pretense that it's below her to so much as acknowledge her father's presence.

Max only narrows his eyes at the pair of them, finding that he's vastly more irritated by his teammate's preoccupation with his phone than he is with anything else.

"I guess I'll make myself useful and head back home to shower," he knows he's making an ass of himself but whatever, he doesn't feel like putting in the effort required to counteract the rising storm of his already fairly shit mood. No, Max didn't particularly give a damn that he was being childish.

"Hey, Ms. Thing, Lovie wants me to tell you she says hi and she hopes you're behaving yourself," Daniel announces suddenly, simply tossing the information out into the open like it's of little consequence to anyone at all.

"Lovie!" Kaia chirps your name with a delighted little giggle, clapping her syrup sticky hands together, "Lovie!" she repeats, seemingly unable to help herself in her elation.

"Oh, you can't be fucking serious-"

"Lovie said hi, Da!"

"I know, I heard," it only takes a second for the guilt to start to set in over just how unnecessary and absolutely uncalled for the brusqueness with which he'd spoken had been, "I know you've missed her so much since we said goodbye. And I bet that she's missing you more than we- you miss her, more than you can even imagine."

"Don't worry, Max, she hasn't mentioned you," Daniel says with a small smile, the cadence of his voice giving off an immediate air of well-intentioned reassurance, the tone of his words clearly meant to be a comfort.

But upon a second and then third listen, every facet of that sentence rings hollow to his ears– like each letter, down to the very last, had played the wrong note– one after the other, composing a discordant, sardonic little song which was a far cry from the one that he'd heard at the first.

"I wasn't worried," the lie rolled right off his tongue with a slick, heavy handed ease that struck Max as believable off the cuff but which, when held at arm's length and given some distance, was merely obstinately false.

"Good."

"Great," he doesn't trust himself, nor the hold he now has on his tightly wound restraint, to say more than a single syllable back.

"Wonderful," the broad grin Daniel gives him now is a different beast entirely to the modest, well bridled one he'd worn a moment before, "Glad to see there's no hard feelings. We wouldn't want that."

"Never," still rigidly restricted to just the one word, Max does however make allowance for dual syllables in his response.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"'Course not," he gives himself just enough leash now for a two worded response but not a breath more or an inch further.

"Well if you're going to head home for a bit to shower or do... whatever else you need to, Kaia and I will probably just hang out, maybe take the time to give her a call," Max doesn't appreciate in the slightest the way Daniel says 'her,' and he can hardly stomach how crystal fucking clear it is that a degree of a claim to you, over you, had just been staked.

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

Tuesday, November 20th, 2018- Monaco-Ville, Monaco

The Private Collection of Antique Cars of H.S.H. the Prince of Monaco

“Isn’t this just a little too on the nose? Even for you?” It was early enough in the grand scheme of things for Daniel to start trying Max’s patience in earnest.

“Didn’t feel like switching it up? Trying something, anything, even remotely new? Of course not because why bother? Not when the same cars that you’ve seen again and again are still just waiting to be stared at by you for the umpteenth time in a row.”

“Has your dad gotten a little…” Daniel pauses mid thought, bending at the knees until he’s on Kaia’s level before continuing, “predictable in his old age?”

While it might not be the most grownup of choices, it was more fun than it looked, especially when one was as damn near to being an expert at taunting the young Austrian as he was.

But still, nothing. Not so much as a sideways glare or a grumble of agitation. Not even a huff of annoyance or a sigh of frustration.

“Or perhaps,” he playfully taps the tip of the toddler’s minute upturned button nose, giving her a quick exaggerated wink, “he’s just painfully, soul suckingly boring?”

“Leave off,” Max snorts and then swings, catching him soundly upside the head, “still younger than you last I checked.”

“Only on paper, never in spirit,” he retorts, rubbing at the back of his head with an absent hand despite the fact that the smack had really just sounded like it hurt.

The only lingering pain that Daniel could still feel was the rather lasting effects of the blow he’d just taken to his pride, considering the fact that he’d been caught lacking by the very man he’d quite loudly declared to be easily predictable.

“Whatever makes you feel better. Or younger. Dealer’s choice, really.”

He doesn’t bother to stop long enough to put any actual, conscious thought into what to say next because he infinitely prefers to just go in blind and mad lib it, filling in the blanks with whatever he touches first while rummaging through some dingy backroom of his brain.

“And you, Verstappen, are an absolute filthy, fucking slag,” though somehow, he manages to swallow that very first laugh when it rises to the surface, there’s no smothering the laugher that follows.

Not even if Daniel had wanted to, which for the record, he hadn’t. No, not when the look on Max’s face had been too genuine, too dazed and far too surprised to not let that mirth that starts in his chest as a rumbling which builds in his throat until it spills over, burbling up and out of him unrestrained, sounding contagiously happy, even to his own two ears.

And for a moment, if only for that very moment, life feels suspended, like reality has been reduced to a single snapshot in time, the world around them narrowed down to the scene they stand in, together and laughing and relishing in the now— the three of them, just himself and that young, lost boy he’d met on a race track what felt like a lifetime ago, the one he’d watched become first a Formula 1 pilot, then a father and then a man, and the little girl who’d saved a golden boy by making him a parent.

Yet, Daniel knew without having to ask that something was missing in that instant, the moment robbed from the grasp of nostalgia but a singular absent component— the last facet, the final piece, the person who took three cobbled together parts and made them a whole.

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

Friday, November 23rd, 2018- Milton Keynes, England, United Kingdom

You’d only just managed to doze off when, from somewhere on the bedside table your phone goes off at full volume, bringing an immediate, unceremonious end to the peace you’d finally found in sleep by wrenching you rather savagely back into the world of the living, the shrill jingle of the ringtone popping the happy little fantasy that had taken shape inside your head like someone had taken a pin to a balloon.

Grumbling, you push yourself into an upright position, desperately trying to cling to the dream you’d been having before you’d been jolted back into consciousness even as you reach out, searching blindly for your phone in the dark, but it has already started to fade, the details deteriorating further and further with every second that slips by until what is left of it is beyond repair, the remains nothing more than a faint, moth eaten memory of momentary bliss.

As your fingers finally find the familiar outline of your phone and close around it, you force yourself to abandon the last vestiges of the dream, knowing if you’re not careful about it, you’re liable to drown yourself in the fragmented remnants of the recollection and there’s hardly time for that right now, if at all.

One glance at the screen proves to be more than sufficient to knock you clean out of your head, to wash away the warmth and contentment that still lingered in your chest, replacing it with a different kind of heat, this fire built not of longing and fantasies but kindled from anger and agitation, the flames of which didn’t need much to catch, just a spark, courtesy of a single name.

“Can I fucking help you, Max? What is it? What is it that you could possibly need at-” you pause with a huff, craning your neck around to check the alarm clock on the bedside table, “at 2:30 in the morning? Hm?”

“I- it’s- Sorry-'' the three words are stilted, almost jarring, as they stumble over one another, each more cumbersome and unwieldy than the last, all conspicuously lack something, some quality you can’t quite put your finger on but whose absence is impossible to ignore.

It takes a moment, only the one, before it comes to you, the name of what’s missing, of what you’ve become so accustomed to hearing in every sentence and every letter, down to the last syllable, that it’s sudden, unforeseen absence can actually be physically felt, the pang of the loss slowly building until it’s almost nauseating.

The familiarity and flippancy you’d thought you’d hate, that you could have sworn you hated, that you detested with every fiber of your being, but, as you'd only just discovered, you’d evidently learned to love at some point along the way, though when exactly that had been was entirely beyond you.

The effect is immediate, instantaneous, when, from the other end of the phone, something which you know with absolute certainty you were never supposed to have heard, that you know in your very bones the fates had never meant for a soul to hear, reaches you over the crackling connection, sounding dangerously close to a stifled, chest wracking dry sob.

You know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Max hated himself for this perceived weakness, and that he’d fought like hell to keep exactly where it was, where it had been, to smother in its infancy before it could gain prescience, neatly bottled up and squirreled away where no one would ever find it, buried in the dead of night, hidden somewhere deep in the hollow of his chest or the pit of his stomach, anywhere it would never see the light of day.

Like his father had taught him, exactly like his Pa had drilled into his head, and when that failed, beaten it into him.

Like Max had always done, like the dutiful son he’d once been, like he would never be again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just slow down, slow down,” you say softly, soothingly, with deliberate gentleness, speaking to him like you would a wounded animal that needs to be coaxed into accepting help, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that when I answered, I’m sorry. I’d just fallen asleep and well, I’m still not particularly over everything that happened yesterday.”

“It’s- it’s not that,” he’s quick off the line with this response, his sudden change in demeanor catching you entirely by surprise, as the warmth and ease returns to his voice without much to proceed the change, almost as if the shift in conversation had been all he’d needed for the informality that hover perilously close to being outright intimacy to come flooding back in.

But that being said, you’re not foolish enough to let yourself be blinded to reality by the turnaround, it had been too easy, it had been too simply won, which you’d come to learn meant that, in Max’s case at least, he was merely momentarily distracted, and more than like retreat back to the frame of mind he’d been in previously.

“Okay? So, if it's not that, then what is it? I just figure, I guess it was more of an assumption really, that you’d only called to talk about the whole boyfriend, girlfriend thing, especially considering the hour and all-”

“Uh, Kaia and I- Kaia’s hurt… She’s- She’s hurt and it’s because of me.”

“Wait, I’m sorry- What?” You ask him without really knowing what it is that you’d just said because the shape of every word as it rolls off the tip of your tongue is just a little off kilter, each feeling foreign in your mouth, the sound strangely distorted even to your own ears, like the notes that they should be composed of have suddenly become discordant.

It’s disquieting the way your brain is still operating on a delay that’s not only disproportionate to what you know for a fact should have been necessary, the certainty about which reaches you from some distant corner in the back of your mind, but it just feels wrong, like somehow whatever it was that Max has just told you has sunk in skin deep and now crawls in your veins, stealing the warmth from your blood as it goes, leeching away the color from the room around you.

“I couldn’t get her to sleep, I tried everything but nothing made any difference… so we went for a drive since that always worked with my youngest sister,” Max explains with such restraint and forethought that even through the lag time your mind is currently operating at, it's obvious that for every detail of the night that he forces himself to remember is more painful than the last and costs him dearly, “and some tourist with more car than they could handle, lost complete control when they were flying down the city street and took a blind corner at speed… into the oncoming lane- struck the passenger side- pinning the back of my car against a bollard-”

Like a switch has been flipped, understanding suddenly flickers to life inside your mind and you’re left gasping for air as the cruel, harsh lines of reality are cast into brutal, immaculate relief by the light of comprehension.

“But she’s alive? Because you’re alive,” you breathe into the phone in a voice barely above a whisper, shaken to the core by the horrific realization that Max wouldn’t be alive and breathing to make this phone call if the worst had come to pass, knowing with absolute certainty that if the daughter had been taken then the father would have followed by any means deemed necessary.

The monstrous thought shouldn’t have been comforting, but it was, and you clung to it with an ironclad grip.

“She’s alive, I’m alive… everyone is alive,” Max confirms with venom in his voice, a chill stealing through you as he continues, “though if you ask me, the fucker that hit us doesn’t even deserve to still be breathing.”

“I’m glad no one was hurt,” you say honestly, too focused on getting more detailed information out of him about Kaia’s status to care about the inherent morality of what he’d just said, “Can I talk to Kaia or-”

“He put my daughter in the hospital but there’s not a scratch on the bastard,” he says sourly, not bothering to even acknowledge what you’d said in the slightest, “but yeah, I just thought you should know. Sorry to wake you.”

“Wait-” you panic, the sudden awareness that he’d already made his mind up, that’d he’d already decided that the conversation was over, and that there wasn’t a single thing you could do to stop him, bringing yet another wave of that same helplessness from before crashing down over you, flooding your senses and drowning out what remained of your rationality, “wait, Max, wait! Not yet, not yet-”

Because this one, this one is ridiculously, pathetically, inexplicably worse than those that had preceded it– leaving you frantic and cursing the selfish desperation that takes sets in, taking hold of your mind and your tongue, systematically silencing every thought in your head that counseled restraint in the same deft stroke that severs the last tether you’d had on your self-restraint.

Because now, the rising tide of emotion does not recede, it does not lessen, it does not retreat and unlike before, the waters do not ebb, instead only continuing to rise, to strengthen, to deepen… until, for the first time, the possibility of being pulled under by the current of your fear for Kaia, for Max, even for yourself, is no longer a simple threat but a guarantee that promises what is to come.

“Don’t hang up! I’m not- you still haven’t explained-” it’s pointless, an exercise in futility but you keep talking all the same, knowing that you could stop the words from coming about as much as you could force Max to listen to them, “baby, please-”

Well… fuckkkk. Fuck me– baby? Baby?! Of all things, baby? Really? Just why in God’s name-

That had certainly been a choice… and unfortunately, it had been one that there was absolutely no undoing, regardless of however much you wished there was. That being said, you reasoned things could have been worse, there could have been the silence of an ended call coming from the other side of the phone still pressed to one side of your head, where instead there was only the silence of a man evidently at a loss for words.

And that quiet could be a good thing or a bad thing, there was really no telling when it came to Max.

“Uh, well… I’ll just talk to you later-” he doesn’t seem to be breathing as his tongue gets tripped up by its own words, “Okay! Love you! Bye!”

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

But to add insult to injury, there isn’t a single flight home for hours, with the first one out of the closest airport not being until a little after 1 pm today and that simply won’t do. The mere thought of having to sit here, helpless and overwrought with emotion, simply waiting and watching the clock for the next nine and a half hours is fucking unfathomable.

So, not knowing what else to do or who else to call, you dial the only person that comes to mind, stealing yourself in preparation for waking him, which isn’t a task you’re looking forward to any more than you are to asking such a huge favor of him as this but surely, if anyone will know what to do, he’d be the one.

“Horner, I know you said to never call this late unless someone is dead, or Lewis announced his retirement but-”

“Of course, he did. Insufferable, isn’t he?” The soft, lyrical voice floating through the speakers of the phone is a far cry from the one you’d been expecting, and it takes your half awake, panic-stricken mind a moment to recognize it.

“Mrs. Horner, I’m so sorry-”

“Please, don’t call me that,” she laughs lightly, like the mere thought of being addressed as much is amusing but only marginally so, “Geri will do fine.”

“Right, yeah, Geri,” you repeat, the moment feeling a little surreal when a voice in the back of your head reminds you this isn’t just Christian’s wife you’re talking to– she’s a Spice Girl– which is just a strange thing to try and wrap your mind around, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m calling this late but-”

“We know. That poor sweet girl,” Geri sounds like she’s fighting tears, the emotion in her words threatens to open the flood gates of your own just barely contained sobs, “and Max… he’s putting on a brave face but-” she comes up short, her cadence catching as she remembers herself, “Christian’s on the phone, seeing to your flight. Didn’t seem right, you being here when they’re there.”

“I-” the guilt that had already been building to a fever pitch seconds into the phone call with Max, which you’d only managed to compartmentalize out of the sheer demands made by necessity, very nearly takes you out at the knees when it makes a savage resurgence, the wake of worry crashing over your head with a violence that suggests the feeling is on a campaign of revenge following its earlier, rather unceremonious exile.

“I know, love,” the understanding that floods Geri’s voice should be a comfort, the reassuring cadence of her tone should be a balm to your rubbed raw and bleeding emotions, and yet at this moment, it’s anything but.

The sympathy she speaks to you with is suffocating because there is nothing, nothing, that she can say or do in this moment that will change the one thing you know with absolute certainty just now– that you do not deserve the gentleness and the compassion that colors her every syllable, not when you should have been there in that car tonight, instead of an ocean away.

“Oh, don’t do that,” she remarks with a sigh, the frank delivery of her words cut from a far less forgiving cloth than anything she’d said prior and takes you entirely by surprise because this time around, instead of pulling punches, Geri hits home with disarming accuracy.

“Don’t do what-” it’s a desperate, last-ditch attempt on your part to try and deflect which quickly proves to be futile.

“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself, don’t torture yourself with the what ifs. It won’t do you any good and it won’t undo the horrors that have been inflicted on your family.”

“I’m not–” evidently you find maintaining the facade of dissent is infinitely easier than conceding to the truth. And if you were to be entirely honest with yourself, that definitely tracks.

“Yes, you are. Of course, you are,” Geri retorts with unwavering certainty, dismissing all of your protestations out of hand, “because any mother would. I know I certainly would be. It’s simply a reality of motherhood, one which you have to face head on and learn how to handle on your own terms because now is not the time to waste worrying about the past and what can’t be changed. Focus on what’s to come, not what's done.

So, from one mother to another, focus on getting yourself dressed and ready to head home and let Christian and me handle getting you there. You understand?”

“Yes,” there’s a great deal else you’d like to say back right now but instead, you set a hard limit of one worded assent for yourself because, as it has already been rightly stated, there’s hardly time for any long winded waffling at present.

“Wonderful– that’s settled then. One of us will email you the details. Give Kaia and Max my love,” she announces with an air of prim finality, and with that, the line goes dead.

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

Friday, November 23rd, 2018--Luton, England, United Kingdom

London Luton Airport

You could only stomach sitting down for as long as was strictly necessary, and it had taken every ounce of the self-restraint that you were usually on Max's case about failing to show to force yourself into a seat for the time it takes for the jet to taxi to the runway and take off but not for a second more than that.

Luckily, beyond letting you know when it was safe for you to get up and walk around the cabin, the flight's skeleton crew– a single pilot and a lone stewardess– kept largely to themselves and left you to your own devices, a fact about which you were deeply grateful for because to be frank, all you were cut out for at present was pacing back and forth, walking the same invisible line up and down the length of the jet without reprieve, while getting so deeply lost in mire of thoughts crowding your head that reality fades away into the background.

It was far easier to fold in on yourself, to look inward for solace, than it was to let yourself acknowledge Daniel's presence in the corner farthest from the pilot's cockpit, because the weight of his gaze on your face, the earnestness of the emotion held in those eyes teetered dangerously close to spilling over– his concern for you and what await the both of you in Monaco wasn't a comfort, it was all but fucking unbearable.

So, feeling like the coward you so often accused Max of being, you hid from your friend, ignoring him for the sake of your own wellbeing, because you could barely stomach your own roiling emotions and all those passing glances his attention as it brushed over you as it was... but even the briefest glints of Daniel's guilt that you unintentional caught glimpses of out of the corner of your eye was enough keep you staring at the ground.

Because while you knew in truth, what had happened tonight hadn't occurred as a direct consequence of his absence or his actions which had left Max and Kaia behind at home on their own, you weren't naive enough to think that there was anything at all that you could say that would convince him to absolve himself of the personal responsibility he now felt for the series of events that had put a little girl who called him her uncle in a hospital bed.

Better to leave him to his own thoughts as you yourself wanted to be than to overstep your bounds and unintentionally inflict any further pain to his already weakened and damaged defenses.

There wasn't much either one of you could offer the other at present without running the risk of doing more harm good and that was just the lay of the land, the hand that you'd been dealt, the way the stars were aligned. There was no changing any of it and you both knew that instinctively, with the same certainty you understood that there was solace and support to be found in the shared experience that stretched unspoken between the two of you that otherwise neither of you could spare the other if the silence was shattered.

So, with Daniel beyond your reach, the only thing outside yourself that kept you tether to the world that still existed around you was your cell phone, which in spite of having been tucked away, out of your line of sight since you'd boarded the plane, felt like it was burning a hole in your pocket, almost as though it was conscious of how far from grace and the usual place of importance it had fallen.

Despite your efforts to the contrary, its presence was impossible to just completely ignore when the temptation to pull your phone out and switch it back on, just for long enough to find out if you had service on the private jet or not, to find out if you had any open messages waiting for you-

No, you were determined not to fall under the spell of the siren's song being sung to you by the unknown, tempting you to give in, to just see if it was still nothing but radio silence from Max, but you knew a slippery slope when you saw one.

Because while you might have a less than stellar track record for stupid fucking decision making where he was concerned, and that was under even the best of circumstances, at least you were capable of owning up to that.

And sure, maybe it was unfair of you to harbor such acrimonious little grudges against him at a time like this, what when all things considered, Max was just trying to get through what had to be one of the worst nights of his life, it would take more than your conscious to get you to forget how you'd felt when the line had gone dead and he'd left you with only unanswered questions to keep you company.

The fact of the matter was that after the nearly three months you'd spent learning first hand why Max was want to pull the bullshit that he did, you'd become rather adept at assessing the damage and identifying what the motivating factors were for the decisions that had had been made but even you, forged in the flames of the trial by fire that had been your first few weeks on the job, were limited by what you understood about the cause and your ability identify all its corresponding effects.

In short, it was a bunk science that relied on proving your theory with cherry picked data points instead of properly testing the hypothesis, and it was about as reliable. If only you'd been more realistic with yourself about all of this, if you'd been smart enough to remain objective when it came to Max and the working arrangement, you'd found yourself ensnared in then perhaps none of this would have hit as hard and there wouldn't be that sharp pain twisting in your chest, threatening to consume you-

"Enough!" Daniel's voice is rough as the command rumbles out of him, the rich cadence of it superseding the humiliating squeak of surprise you let out as he pulls you clean off your feet and neatly into his lap before you can do a thing to stop him, "you're driving me up the fucking wall."

"What are you- Let go of me!" You demand, trying to extricate yourself from his grasp but it's of no use, his arms only tighten around you as he simply shakes his head, the gesture filled with such frustration and exhaustion that you're momentarily disarmed, your body going temporarily slack in his grasp.

"You clearly had no plans to stop pacing back and forth until we landed so I had to take matters into my own hands," Daniel explains with a shrug of his shoulders as if to say that much should have been obvious.

"You could have said something," you point out rather unhelpfully.

"And you wouldn't have listened," he's right but you're going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that so you admit nothing, "so, fucking stop moving and just let me have this– just this one thing, just this one time, would you?"

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

There was something in your touch that invariably made complicated, lurid things happen in his chest, things which he neither knew the name of, nor fully understood.

And not because the answers were beyond him or because the twisted knot of whatever the fuck it was that roared to life every goddamned time you so much as brushed up against him as you slipped past him in the crowded paddock or your fingers grazed his while you walked at his side, was some great unknowable mystery destined to haunt the ages.

No, it was nothing so grand or interesting as that.

Rather, quite simply put, Daniel did not know what to call the whole host of complicated shit that went down in his chest at the slightest provocation because he didn't want to know, he'd never wanted to know, so he'd never asked.

Better to remain in the dark, obstinate in his unawareness, wholly able to maintain the facade of his own blissful ignorance by sheer force of will then to take that final step forward, to trade the inky black of night for the golden light of day and be made to face what waited for him in the sunshine— the unadulterated truth of it all– a burden which he did not wish to bear.

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

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ryuichirou · 3 months

Text

Replies

A couple of replies! Starting with the one related to our Jamil art from yesterday hehehe.

Anonymous asked:

Scarabia n.1 boyfailure! You made him look so cool!!!!!!! I tend to rag on this design quite a bit, but I think Jamil's OB has become my favorite exactly because to me it's almost equally ridiculous and awesome. With the kind of life he has, he deserves to act a bit silly (violently attacking people).

Also I can't stop thinking about the jp fandom calling his outfit "ecchi". Honestly, I really can't blame them... I like the legs...

Yessss him!!! Thank you so much, Anon ❤️ Ah Jamil and his silly emotional self… laughing maniacally kicking people around lol

He really is ecchi, the legs are amazing. While it took us 4 days to finish this one and I’m very satisfied with it, a part of me wishes we drew his legs too, they are absolutely criminal.

Overblots are such a delight and a pain to draw at the same time. I’m very happy we finished Jamil… it’s been a year since our last OB boy…

irregardlessly-tish asked:

The headcanon about Ortho and Mira got me thinking about Ortho being rivals with a house Alexa and similar things. Ortho hating on commercial use AIs being all grumpy "you're giving the rest of us a bad name! >:["

(this is related to this post)

Omg YES Ortho and his surprisingly serious beef with all these AIs!! He is MUCH BETTER THAN ANY OF THEM, right? >:( !!!!

Anonymous asked:

So I saw that in a past ask that only two guys in Idia’s shippings is actually interested in becoming serious with him. How does Lilia see him then? As a friend with benefits? And is Idia aware of this or does he think they could become an actual thing?

The thing is, I don’t think Lilia is interested in having actual committed relationship with anyone at this point. I don’t know if he ever did (well, with one particular exception in his youth), but now he pretty much lives in the moment and enjoys human connections that happen to him right here and right now. Idia is pretty young, so Lilia wouldn’t want him to get too attached. While Idia isn’t a fae and his lifespan is much shorter than Lilia’s, Lilia is pretty old and yeeeeaah actually dating him would be rather cruel. I also think that Lilia probably considers himself not really... worthy of such a dedication? Idia is young and is going to change someone for serious relationships, and Lilia doesn’t see himself as someone who Idia would actually be in love with. Lilia doesn’t know how much he means to people around him, and Idia is no exception. So this approach would actually hurt Idia more in the end.

But another thing is, Lilia also hates having these conversations, so he isn’t going to have one lol To him he’s just having fun with Idia as long as it’s fun for them to be around each other. And since Idia is pretty young, Lilia also naively believes that whenever they stop spending time together, Idia will get over it. So yeah in a way he is still being cruel, albeit unintentionally.

Idia doesn’t know what their relationship is. He is a pessimist, and he just knows that something is unavoidably going to go wrong at some point, but he is also in love and really doesn’t want it to end. He probably tries not to overthink it to avoid getting too hurt and disappointed, but deep inside he would love to spend time with Lilia forever.

This reply ended up being not so funny, I’m sorry—

Anonymous asked:

Say, a quick question about fem Kalim, since she is the heiress of her family, would she be subjected to the same marriage law as Princess Jasmine where she has to marry by the time she turns eighteen?

Huh! 🤔 Good question, I haven’t thought about it.

It’s a bit tricky because the Asims aren’t really royalty + Jasmine was the only daughter and Kalim has 30+ siblings… but for the sake of some juicy drama it could still be the case (being forced to marry during your 3rd year of college, yikes).

I guess it’ll depend on the scenario we’re going to go for any specific post or comic.

Anonymous asked:

hey saw you're getting into Treyvil! I read a really adorable fic on AO3 called Adequately Inadequate. I think the author was something like FabFoxFics or something like that.

Thank you for your recommendation, Anon! ❤️

While I don’t really read fanfics, I’ll still post it in case anyone is interested. Maybe I’ll check it out too…

#replies #lilidia

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savvythepirate · 1 year

Text

I’m not leaving without you

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @personlovinganime

Prompt requests: #1

“Look, I know I screwed up. But you have to let me explain everything.”

“That’s why I’ve come back an to take you back with me.”

***

You were in the middle of doing your job when an unexpected visitor stopped by.

The bar in Tartuga was made well known, you knew that Jack Sparrow was a regular, however, you had no idea that your former partner also visited every once in a while. Working in the back prevented you from catching even a glimpse of customers who stop by for a drink or a good time. So you were complaining unaware that the next customer that walked was in fact, Barbossa. Barbossa had walked in after he’d been informed of you working there, immediately asking the first person he sees for you and to see you right away.

Months ago, Barbossa had left you behind, promising he would come back for within three weeks time. Well, you believed him until three weeks turned into three months and by the end of the third month, you felt cheated on and fooled. At anyone’s guess, Barbossa never showed up and the promise he made to you was not the only thing he had broken, he broke you in ways that words can’t describe. There were really no words other then the usual, pathetic same old ones. Not only did you feel like a broken fool, you felt broken like shattered pieces of shard glass that no one could ever repair. So you decided the next best thing for you to do of this situation was to make the best of it with the best efforts you have. But just because you were left behind, didn’t mean you weren’t ever going to forget Barbossa and the crew. While you were still part of Barbossa’s crew, you both had shared a strong bond like none other, it was a type of bond that nothing could ever tear it apart.

It was a bond that you thought to have turned into something more until he had abandoned you, you thought you both really had something there blossoming into a new chapter. With your mind set focused on delivering your work, you were nearly frightened out of your wits when a coworker had placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, then informing you of your mysterious visitor.

“Oh, I’m sorry hon. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright. What’s going on?”

“You have someone here who wishes to see you.”

“Who might that be?”

“I’m not exactly sure, he wouldn’t give me a name. But if you go out there and see a strange pirate, then you have found him.”

Upon hearing that, you couldn’t help but feel that who she is describing is the one who broke you and left you behind, Barbossa.

In that moment, you went to have a better look and sure enough, you saw exactly who she was talking about. It confirmed the realization that the visitor was in fact, none other then your former partner, Barbossa. While making your way over, you almost got cold feet and wanted to turn back around but something held your ground. You wanted to study him first before making any possible dramatic decisions on what would be the best thing to do. Looking at Barbossa now, then again looking at the Barbossa you had once known in the past gave you a sad and lonely feeling. The way he looked now told you that he has had it rough in the last few months. Barbossa seemed to be in deep thought before you both lock eyes, having you take the rest of the steps over his way. There was no turning back now, you had face this and it was bound to happen.

Barbossa knew he had screwed up, and he knew already that you would be furious just by seeing him and that you would probably ask him to leave right away. To his dismay, he was right about that. But asking him to leave wasn’t what happened first, you gave him a looks could kill look before speaking up in a bitter tone of voice.

“Glad you decided to finally come.”

“Look, (Y/n)-“

“You can’t talk your way out of this one, Barbossa. It’s over and done with so please, for both our sakes, just leave.”

Barbossa was reluctant on what to say to that next.

“Look, I will leave if you really want me to. But I have a few things I got to say, can we just have a little chat before rushing into decision making?”

“I don’t know…”

“(Y/n), please?”

You let out a tired sigh, deciding to allow him to say what he’s got to say. You nod in agreement, a sign for him to continue with what he has to say.

“Look, I know I screwed up. But you have to let me explain everything and listen.”

You pulled the chair across from him and took a seat, indicating that he now had your undivided attention.

“You have no idea how bad I feel about leaving you behind. You have every right to be angry with me, even to hate me. It was just… the seas are getting more dangerous on each sail and on one particular sail, I was on my way back to whisk you away but we ran into some trouble on the way. When we crossed enemy territory, we didn’t realize until we were being chased after and it was a threat to your life, not just mine or the crews. I didn’t want to risk putting you in any kind of danger, I know that it would only bring you harm and I wasn’t about to let you get hurt.”

Your eyes started telling Barbossa that you somewhat believed his story, although it is very much true. The following question he asks is a tough one for you to prosper and properly respond to it. It turns out to be more begging then a question alone.

“Please… come back with me.”

“I don’t know, how can I be sure to trust you again?”

“You can.”

“How? This isn’t just a simple fix it job, you know. You can’t always make everything better or right again. Why should I come back with you? Or better yet, come back to you?”

“That’s why I’ve come back. I’ve come back for you and to take you back with me.”

You had to pause for a moment there to think it over before deciding on finals.

If it wasn’t Barbossa’s own tongue that was pleading you to come back, his eyes said it all and that’s what got you to come to a final conclusion.

“Alright. This is your one and only chance, if you screw up again, that’s it. Don’t ever make me feel sorry about this last chance.”

Barbossa doesn’t respond with words right away, rather, he pulls you in for a kiss.

Of course, you didn’t hesitate to return the kiss right back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll know you’ve made the right choice, (Y/n).”

After having said that, you follow him back to the Pearl where you meet and reunite with your crew. Your place was definitely, without a doubt, next to Barbossa and his, your crew.

Your family.

***

Requests: OPEN

Tags: @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence

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eaeulfl · 9 days

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My mom just finished watching episode 18 of season 3 earlier and I’m very satisfied with the result and with our discussion. When I asked her if she would revive erwin or armin she didn’t even hesitate and said Erwin. Thank the heavens. Because if she had said armin, I would’ve had to question myself and then subsequently my life again. I already went through so much of that the first time I watched the series and while I’m not completely averse to second guessing myself I’m also not really looking forward to doing it all over again because it is so exhausting.

I’ve already made several posts about this before but I honestly cannot relate to people who swear by Levi’s decision. Can I understand it, yes, most definitely, but I have never felt and will never feel the same way. There was that one time when hange said something like Erwin only ever made one mistake in his life and that was making her the next commander, my immediate thought was the one mistake erwin made was entrusting Levi with the injection. No doubt erwin isn’t perfect and as a human being he’s made many mistakes in his life for sure, but I’m specifically referring to what hange said. If I had to think of just one major thing that he did wrong, it wouldn’t be making hange commander or anything else. The injection was his biggest mistake. And by the way hange is a great commander, and I’d take her over armin any time any place. Heck I’d take jean as commander over armin any time any place.

This has become redundant but the first time I watched the series I kept myself hopeful. I wanted to be proven wrong so badly. Maybe armin was the right choice after all, maybe there was no right choice, maybe it would become the right choice eventually, maybe maybe maybe. I held onto that hope all the way to the end. Unfortunately I now know for certain that I’m never going to get over Erwin’s death. I’m not going to go so far as to say armin becoming the next commander after hange didn’t hold any weight, but said weight was really next to nothing. Virtually nonexistent. Completely negligible. If anyone Jean should’ve been the next in line and this is the hill I will die on.

Do I hate armin? Just for the record, no. Absolutely not. I’ve said this time and time again but he was my favorite character during the first half of season 1 and I still liked him even after finishing the series. Do I find him becoming the next commander completely unacceptable? Also no. He probably would’ve never been as effective of a commander as erwin, or hange, or pyxis, or even jean, but he definitely would’ve done his best and I believe eventually he would’ve done a decent job. My problem is really more with the process and not as much the result. How did we get to him being handed the seat? Largely through Erwin’s and hange’s deaths. Frankly their deaths were so senseless I don’t think I’ll ever recover. And the whole erwin/armin parallel drawn from time to time? Imo that was the worst thing about this. Armin is not erwin, and vice versa. Stop this stupid propaganda. Did I not feel sorry for armin? Of course I did. It wasn’t his fault his friends were being stupid, nor was it his fault that Levi made the wrong decision. It was a crappy situation to say the least and he didn’t deserve to go through any of that. When he nearly threw up after hearing about what had happened, I felt sorry for him. When floch was going on and on and on right in front of him about how erwin should’ve been saved instead, I felt sorry for him. When he was going through his breakdowns dealing with mikasa and the rumbling, I felt sorry for him. Armin had to go through so much crap because of plot armor and he deserved better. But this still doesn’t change the fact that erwin was the right choice.

#shingeki no kyojin #erwin smith #armin arlert #hange zoe #dot pyxis #levi ackerman #jean kirschtein

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satans-helper · 23 days

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Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XXI

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~1800 (I know it's super short, I'm sorry)

Warnings: none <3

No, I'm not dead. Your girl's just been going through it for a while and is now just beginning to try and get herself out of this dreadful creative slump and series of poor decisions that are making her already tumultuous mental health and circumstances worse. No, this fic is not done! So I hope y'all are still with me and I hope you enjoy <3

---

“I seriously can’t believe you got away with it.” Josh’s face was still stuck in disbelief when he said that to Jake, but when his twin looked back at him with some disbelief and undeserved innocence of his own, Josh smirked and shook his head. “You’re such a scoundrel. Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“It’s really not funny,” Jake protested, sighing and turning away to look out into the trees. The porch around him harbored so much scandal and discourse, he thought, that it should become some kind of historical marker. “Because no, I couldn’t help myself. I put myself in the line of fire just to maybe get what I needed.”

“And I thought I was dramatic,” Josh said, leaning back in his chair with a matching sigh. “You should praise every god known to mankind that Sam didn’t destroy you, and that Danny still wants to be your friend.”

“Trust me, I’ve been doing that.”

Jake caught Josh shaking his head again in his peripheral vision. “I also can’t believe I missed all of this.”

“It was probably for the better. It felt like a lot to…process,” Jake said, looking up at the gray-blue sky now. “You would have made me doubt my choice. I had to just go for it. Take the risk.” At that, Josh gave a little hum.

It was the weekend and Sam was with Danny, of course, and Jake’s whole world still felt a little empty even though everyone was getting on good terms again. He missed Danny. He missed Sam, too. Things were going to go back to normal–he knew that–but he was eager to get to that as quickly as possible. The feelings of guilt and shame that kept following him nagged and tormented him. Ironically, it was now only when he was spending time with Sam and Danny that he felt those feelings leave him alone. It was when Jake was by himself that all the memories crashed into him like a tidal wave.

“And how are you now?” Josh pressed gently, looking at Jake so intently that he had to look right back. “Really?”

“Better.” Better was true–saying “good” or anything beyond wouldn’t have been as accurate. “Seriously, when I saw the two of them outside–out here,” Jake went on, waving a hand over the deck. “And heard what they were saying, it just finally clicked, y’know? Danny loves the fuck out of Sam. I’m never gonna be a part of that.” He sighed again, averting eye contact for a second. “It was all just a fantasy.”

After a brief pause, Josh said, “Fantasies can still feel very real to us.” Jake let those words hang in the air–his twin wasn’t wrong. But then Josh asked, “Are you now–or I guess were you ever–in love with Danny after all this?”

Jake had to chuckle. He really could be such a romantic–so caught up in those fantasies, in those feelings, that more often than not only came from stories, not real life. His imagination frequently ran wild while his reality felt so tame. Maybe the fact that Danny and Sam had achieved a fairytale romance beyond anyone’s wildest dreams fueled Jake’s own fire. If fantasy could be reality for someone else, it could be for him. Just not with Danny.

“I don’t know if I ever was. I’d like to say I wasn’t to, you know, save myself being even more embarrassed,” Jake confessed. “But if I was, I’m not now. The spell’s been broken. Fucking finally.”

Josh leaned over his chair and stretched an arm out, extending his hand to pat Jake’s shoulder. “Fucking finally is right. You’d been torturing yourself for quite a while there, Jake. Your heart deserves a break.”

Jake knew it did. The past seven-ish months had felt like a lifetime–he was embarrassed he’d wasted so much time yearning, pining and lusting over Danny, but what was done was done. All he could do now was move forward with what would hopefully be a rejuvenated friendship.

Sick of talking about himself, Jake turned his attention to his twin. “So have you ever been curious about him?” he pressed, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “Be honest, Josh.”

“A bit, absolutely,” Josh said quickly and easily. Jake sometimes envied Josh’s utter lack of self-consciousness and shame. He smiled a bit, a secret little smirk that made Jake even more curious. “I wondered, like you, what it would feel like. What Danny would be like during the act.” He winked as he added, “But I never thought about anything beyond that.”

Jake scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

Josh cackled as he sprung to his feet, holding his empty can of La Croix and grabbing Jake’s. “I know better than you to never mess with our little brother,” he chirped, and Jake managed a scoff and a swift, light kick to Josh’s thigh before he could get back inside the house.

On Sunday, Sam made a conscious effort to help Danny clean his apartment. In all his bliss after the storm, he hadn’t even realized what a mess it had become. He hadn’t noticed that it was also almost entirely because of him alone, not until he woke up earlier than usual, stretched like a cat beneath the covers with his eyes still shut, then opened them to see Danny quietly, discreetly picking up dirty clothes from the bedroom floor.

So Sam helped with that first. He sprang into action, tearing his own sweaty, stale clothes out of Danny’s hands, properly dispersing them into hampers and bags. He made the bed next, something he never did at his own home, and remembered why–it wasn’t fun, nor was it even that easy. Danny’s king mattress made it a challenge to get the fitted sheet taut across, but Sam refused any help even when his doting boyfriend offered, of course. Instead, he shooed Danny away, then soon heard vacuum begin to run through the whole place. But Sam was insistent on cleaning the kitchen counters next and doing the dishes himself, which meant Danny felt obliged to tackle the bathroom once the vacuum was full of dust and crumbs.

By sunset, the apartment was spotless–as far as Sam could see, not a single crumb or molecule of dust remained anywhere and everything was back to being organized and orderly, just like Danny liked. The benefit of not growing up with brothers, Sam thought to himself when he opened the only remaining shut window in the living room, basking in the warm breeze.

Summer was always his favorite season. What would this new summer hold for him and his beloved? They’d had such a rocky start, caught in the gloom and fog of dreary autumn and even more muddled and misty feelings–Sam, caught in the mystic whirlwind of someone so unbelievably new. Danny, trying to pull away for no one’s sake, not even his own.

Sam knew he was blessed as hell to have gotten him.

“Wow,” Danny said as he sank down on the couch next to Sam, gazing around at his spotless living room. “I haven’t seen this place so clean in a while.” He pulled Sam into his side and kissed his temple. “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sam let out a haughty laugh, clearly entertained by those words. “Fuck yes, I had to! Most of the mess was mine.”

Danny laughed too, low, sweet and soft in Sam’s ear. “Messy boy,” he purred, nuzzling his nose into Sam’s hair that still had the lingering scent of weed from their afternoon break in the cleaning. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, Daniel. You just like being nice to be more than honest sometimes.” Sam giggled when Danny’s nose, then lips, touched his neck. “Right?”

“Only sometimes,” Danny agreed. Truly, he didn’t mind Sam’s messiness–not so much anymore, anyway. He’d gotten used to it. But more than that, he’d take some clutter and extra dust if it meant having Sam around, period.

Sam was settled against Danny’s chest while he flipped through Netflix, browsing the seemingly-infinite titles. He was more entertained by the soft, rhythmic thud of Danny’s heart beating and the dirty thoughts roaming around in his mind than any of the options on the screen–the quiet was only interrupted when Jake came to mind again. Nothing bad, just Sam suddenly pondering what it would be like at home the next time Danny slept over at his house.

But really, Sam went on to think, letting out a little sigh as Danny played with his hair, what would it be like? Would there be tension and awkwardness? Would he feel insecure? Would Jake try to do something?

Nah, Sam concluded silently to himself. It wasn’t disparaging the idea that any of that might be possible, it was just him disregarding his concerns about it all. Right now, he was cuddling on the couch with his hot, sexy, sweet vampire boyfriend who was all his forever.

“Jeez, would you just pick something already?” Danny asked, growing dizzy with how fast Sam was breezing through the titles.

Sam handed the remote over. “I can’t decide. There are too many options.”

Danny took charge, pausing to actually look over the artwork and pictures for each movie in the sci-fi category Sam had landed in. He kept playing with Sam’s hair with his free hand, twisting and twirling silky strands between his fingers; by the time he thought he might have found something worthwhile to watch, Sam’s body and breathing felt like he’d already fallen asleep.

Danny leaned forward just enough to take a peek. Sam’s face was still and serene, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, with his cheek squished into Danny’s shoulder. Danny just looked at him a moment longer before he pressed himself back into the couch–Sam followed, eyes still shut, still snoozing, wrapping an arm tight around Danny’s waist as he nestled his head against his lap. Danny smiled down at him and resumed petting his hair. He traced the lines of Sam’s face with his eyes as he did so, starting with his eyebrows; then he gazed down the bridge of Sam’s nose, back up and over to his temple. From there, Danny scanned the sharp plane of his boyfriend’s cheekbone until his gaze landed on the softer, supple and pink apple of Sam’s cheek. Then he was studying Sam’s perfect, pretty lips, like two vibrant and eternally blooming rose petals.

Sam’s sleeping face was better than anything Netflix had to offer, Danny concluded. He shut the TV off and relaxed even more into the silence of his apartment and the warmth of Sam’s body lazing atop his own, tossing the remote aside so he could gently press his fingertips to Sam’s lips.

---

Tagging:

@mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @milojames16 @brokebellsgvf @streamsofstardust @heckingfrick

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

#Greta van fleet #gvf #Danny wagner #Danny gvf #Sam kiszka #Sam gvf #Jake kiszka #Jake gvf #Josh kiszka #Josh gvf #Danny wagner x Sam kiszka #sanny #stfyh #gvf fanfiction

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taintedevesayori · 1 month

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Sayo's Route: Maniac Epilogue

Sayo's Route Masterlist

-Sayo knocks on the door of the Mukami manor. Ruki opens the door

Sayo: Hey, Ruki. How have you been?

Ruki: I’ve been fine, thanks. I didn’t know you were coming over today.

Sayo: It was sort of last minute. Sorry Kou didn’t tell you…

Ruki: It’s fine. Would you like to join us for dinner? I was about to start cooking.

Sayo: Sure, if that’s alright with you.

Ruki: I’m sure the others will be happy you are joining us too. Kou is upstairs in his room, I believe.

Sayo: Thanks! I’m looking forward to your cooking. Do you want help? I’m sure Kou will be fine for a bit if so.

Ruki: Fufu…I’ll be fine, but thank you.

-Sayo goes upstairs and knocks on Kou’s door

Kou: Sayo-chan? Come in~!

-She opens the door. Kou is sitting on his bed, flipping through a magazine

Sayo: Whatcha looking at?

Kou: Wanna see? Come look with me!

-She sits down next to him. She recognizes it as a volume of a fashion magazine Rena used to read

Sayo: My friend liked these ones. She had a period like two years ago when she would buy clothes to try to match some of the outfits she saw in them.

Kou: Haha really? Have you ever done anything like that?

Sayo: Fufu…No, I didn’t have the money for shopping sprees. I was raised in a church, after all.

Kou: Hm? Really?

Sayo: Have I really never told you about that?

Kou: Nope, I never would have guessed.

Sayo: Well, I was rarely there. The nuns had an issue with the way I acted. They tried discipline at first, but it only made me want to rebel more, so they gave up and wanted me out of the way after a while. So I spent all my free time away from the church. I was usually with my friends, but I would also go to places like the library a lot when they were busy.

Kou: So did your parents work there?

Sayo: No, I’m an orphan. I don’t know anything about my parents. Just that they abandoned me there when I was a baby.

Kou: Really…?

Sayo: Yeah. Are you surprised?

Kou: A little…You probably don’t know either, but I met Ruki, Yuma, and Azusa at an orphanage…We aren’t blood related.

Sayo: But they’re still your brothers…The people you choose as your family can be stronger than actual blood ties. I feel the same way about my friends back home.

Kou: Even though you don’t live there anymore?

Sayo: Absolutely. We’ve always been there for each other. That makes them family in my book. Maybe I see it that way because I don’t have parents or anything like that, but still.

-Kou smiles, taking her hand in his

Kou: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. The four of us probably understand it better than anyone else could…

*Timeskip*

-There’s a knock on Kou’s bedroom door

Azusa: Kou…Ruki says dinner is ready.

Kou: Coming!

-The two get up to join Azusa

Azusa: Ah…Hello, Sayo…

Sayo: Hi, Azusa.

Azusa: You’re joining us…for dinner?

Sayo: Yeah, Ruki invited me.

Azusa: That…makes me happy.

-The three walk down to the dining room. Ruki has already set out the food. He and Yuma are waiting

Yuma: Hey, Sayo. Ruki didn’t say you were coming.

Ruki: You didn’t gather that from the extra seating arrangement?

Yuma: Che…

Sayo: Fufu…Hey, Yuma. Hope you guys don’t mind me crashing dinner.

Yuma: ‘Course not. Ya ask me, you should come ‘round more often.

Kou: Yeah! You aren’t here nearly enough!

Sayo: I am trying to come more often. It’s just a question of when I can sneak away and if someone comes to drag me back…

Ruki: You know you are more than welcome. Just don’t put yourself in danger. I heard you had to stop Ayato and Laito from getting into a fight with Kou the other day.

Sayo: Well, yeah…but that was nothing. I stepped in before it could get dangerous.

Kou: I wouldn’t have let her get hurt in the first place!

Yuma: You better not.

Sayo: Fufu…You sound like a protective older brother, Yuma.

Yuma: Hehe…Ya think?

Kou: You’re mine, so he basically is, you know? You pretty much have three older brothers now~

Azusa: Having a little sister…? Fufu…How nice…

Ruki: Fufu…She is a rather troublesome little sister, isn’t she?

Yuma: Hehe…Got that right.

-She can’t help but smile

(Three older brothers, huh…? That doesn’t sound too bad…)

Sayo: Hey, who says I’m troublesome?

Kou: Ahaha! You’ve been trouble ever since we met you!

Sayo: Fufu…You don’t hold your punches, do you?

Ruki: I do believe the Sakamakis would agree you have been causing them trouble with how you have been talking to us as well, don’t you think?

Sayo: You didn’t have to bring them into this…It’s not my fault they want to be possessive.

-The four brothers exchange glances before chuckling

Sayo: I don’t even want to know what just happened…

Kou: It’s totally your fault that they’re possessive, Sayo-chan. But it’s adorable how clueless you are~

-He pats her head a few times, but she swats away his hand

Sayo: Hey! I’m not clueless.

Azusa: Fufu…It is cute…

Kou: Right?

Sayo: Ugh…

Ruki: Fufu…Get used to it. This is how brothers are.

Sayo: Haah…You guys are lucky you’re easy to get along with.

*Timeskip*

-Sayo is on her way home from the Mukami manor. She stops at a phone booth after making sure she isn’t being followed

Lei: Hello?

Sayo: Hey, Lei. It’s Sayo. Just calling for the monthly check in.

Lei: Hey, Sayo! I’ve got great news! Plan Escape Shitty Marriage is a go. My aunt has a room for you!

Sayo: …!

-To be continued

#diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers #sayori makina #kou mukami #yuma mukami #ruki mukami #azusa mukami #diabolik lovers fanfiction #sayo's route

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koscheimaryas · 1 month

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PAMELASBDAYBASH — a lost page

Dear Seth, I’ve finally come to terms with something I’ve known for the better part of my life: I have one of the nastiest, most ardent, obsessive natures. After so many years, accepting this is not much of a hassle to me. Becoming an adult also means understanding myself to an almost molecular level, and thus getting reacquainted with my good and bad habits is a must, so that I can learn what to weed out and what to keep in order to maintain my health (and sanity). A few of these habits, however, die hard. And there is at least one that I can’t bear to part ways with.

If you had to guess, you’d probably get it right. It’s not that difficult to suspect that I’m talking about you. But it’s not about you as an individual, per se; I am simply referring to the man I came back to every single time when reality proved to be way too gruesome, to the friend I cherished for more than a decade through letters and e-mails. I’ve documented my days for you for too long to be able to drop it as casually as you did, but the only difference is that I don’t really send these to anyone in particular, least of all people you. No: they pile up in my draft box, serving as a virtual diary of sorts. It is no surprise that I’d rather walk on hot coals than contact you again.

It’s been at least eight years since we last saw each other. The funniest thing is that I can’t quite remember when or how our last meeting happened. I can’t remember what you were wearing, where we were, what you told me. I can’t remember feeling sad or anxious or elated about it. All that I know is that it must’ve been the last straw, for I haven’t sought you out ever since then, not even once. For someone that used to depend on you like you held the answers to all of my most troubled questions, I can certainly pat myself on the back and admit I’ve done a good job.

Still, when it’s late at night and the world feels too big for me, I can’t help but wonder just what is going on in your life. If you’re also working too hard, if you also think of me when you finally lie down, getting ready for a sad, worn out sleep, made even more miserable by the sickening replay of my memory in your head, over and over again… I wouldn’t even be able to name the specific afflictions, if you asked me. I also believe that you have your own, different versions of a torment that probably don’t even include me. I’m the only one lost in this narrow stream, swimming endlessly, unable to find the end of you. Where do I even begin?

Seth, I’ve been trying hard to find some solace in the most dubious displays of normalcy. I read more, still play too much ball, go out with my friends, even tried learning a new language; one that very few people can speak, just so that I can share some curious tidbits of something unknown with the ones around me. Did you know? The Greeks have a word for the complaint without answer: paropono. It stems from the heart’s labor, from the strange attraction of sadness, the grievance. It resounded strongly within me for so long because I, too, understand what it is to shout my frustrations into nothingness; my whole life used to be defined by running after you tirelessly, begging for something, anything you could give me.

I suppose I could end this charade quite easily if I wanted to. Even though you’re not really active on social media, I could simply ask your mother and your father how have you been, what have you been up to. It would be quick, like ripping off a band-aid; they would tell me you’re doing great, that you’ve met someone. That you’re going to be married soon, and that I should expect an invitation… The more I think about it, the more I realize just how therapeutic it is to not know a thing about you anymore. I fear that learning that you’ve moved on would be fatal to me.

For as long as my cowardice lasts, I’ll keep picturing a version of you that is more like what I want you to be: lonely, lost and just as miserable as me. After all, we’ve always been quite good at matching each other’s energy.

Until next time,

Ten

@henrystravss

#pamisbdaybash #𝐨𝐭𝐩: seth x bianca #𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫: pamela

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