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#but they are just filled with self loathing from how easily they give into the other

bowiebond · 2 years

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My favourite “problematic” trope is when you’ve got two characters who are obsessively and possessively in love to the point where they find a deep sentimental romance in all the blood, sweat and tears they shed together. The kind of couple who will kill for each other in order to stay together because they would rather die than be apart, even if one character has slightly better morals that causes conflict in the couple yet they can’t stay away from each other. I want that intense must have you always energy in my ships. You are my world kind of energy but literally. The hold my face in the rain as it washes away the blood and kiss me like you might never get a chance again kind of dark romance.

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mikobeautifulheart · 2 months

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7 minutes in panic. College Gojo x reader

1700 WORDS EXACTLY.

The one time you decide to go to a party, it goes wrong.

TW: Use of drugs (U get drugged) and are stuck in a small closet for 7 minutes. (Btw there is no smut, just fluff)

UNEDITED AND VERY SELF INDULGET so it might not make much sense?

You had never been to a party before, let alone one in a cramped dorm spilling with people, even some of them in the hallway standing, drinking, talking and shamelessly making out.

This is probably what you expected but you couldn't help but feel nervous, god why did you go alone? Was it because you're only 2 reliable friends who knew it was a dumb idea-

Walking down the hallway the smell of sweat and alcohol got stronger filling your lungs almost making you get drunk in the air. Why did you even come? Whatever it's too late to turn back might as well commit.

The room was cramped and the music was muffled by all the people surrounding the speaker. You walked toward the counter and picked up a red cup, typical just like the movies, but nothing bad or dramatic is going to happen to you, right? You held the cup awkwardly looking at your hands, almost hesitating to drink the contents, you didn't know what was in it and the smart people would have their suspicions about it, but why worry? You were to stressed anyway you needed a break.

As much as you didn't mind the workload, you loathed the assigned partnered assignments because you were always paired with Gojo.

You already knew him through your other friends, Geto and Shoko.

You didn't mind always being paired with him and he always did his work load, sometimes you'd have to do a bit of his part but he would always thank you with a surprise, usually some sweets.

The worst part was just that he was...hot. He always made your heart forget how to function when you two work together.

‘“And what are you doing here? I thought you weren't the one to frequent parties?” You were snapped out of your imagination only to be faced with someone's chest- you looked up and wow… it was him, Gojo.

“Uh well um I just, its,” you let out an airy laugh trying to distract him from the blush on your face.

“I don't have anything to work on right now so I thought id give it a shot…” You subconsciously took a drink out of the cup you were holding, breaking eye contact with him.

“I can tell '' he laughed and smiled pleasantly toward you.

Oh gosh if only you'd have a chance, he's not top of the class but he is smart when he really thinks and a sports legend. His biceps easily make its presence known out of the short sleeved shirt that fit him all too well. He was the dream guy, but you, you thought you were nothing compared to him.

You didn't love yourself but you didn't hate yourself, you sort of just accepted the way you look so you just worked with it.

You turned to leave the party as you heard someone yell

"SPIN THE BOTTLE" followed by loads of cheers.

“Leaving already?” He said with his brows furrowed

“Uh I think i'm going to get some air, it's hot in here” you flashed a smile.

You started to push your way through the crowd. It was rough but then you felt a hand latch onto your wrist.

“Hold on tight” Gojo looked at you before guiding you through the many, many people.

Your heart nearly burst. You eventually reached a window putting your elbows down on the window sill and placing your head in your hands.

“I saw your last basketball game, nice win” You said, giving him a smile before turning your head up to the sky.

“You-you watched my game?”

You looked at him puzzled until you saw him rubbing the back of his neck with a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uh yeah you looked really good to” You said

“LOOKED GOOD PLAYING-” Trying to save yourself from the embarrassing comment you let slip out. Must have been the drink making you lose focus.

There was silence in the air then you heard two familiar voices, it was Geto and Shoko singing along terribly to the song playing with slurred words and drunk voices.

“I think i'm going to head in again, are you coming? Totally fine if you're not you don't have too” Gojo said looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze.

"I wouldn't mind that'' you said, waking up beside him taking your opportunity.

The door is pushed open and you walk over to Geto and Shoko, you told them you were going with Gojo and might leave early so they wouldn't worry about you.

You mentioned something about Gojo before the room erupted with a mixed reaction of jealousy and excitement. Looking back from your side there it was… a bottle pointing at you. Puzzled you follow the gazes of the room until you realised it was Gojo on the other side of the room looking at you. He was the one that had spun the bottle and accidently roped you into the game "7 minutes in heaven". A guy drags you and Gojo by the wrists and pushed both you guys in a closed down the hallway from the party.

It was dusty and small but still enough space for you to lean against the wall and have one step of space between the two of you. A lock sound was heard outside the door. This was it you were stuck.

"Ha...sorry you are here right now I didn't mean it." Gojo said looking at you in the dark.

You fidgeted in the dark unconfutably. How do you even stand here with the guy you like and do nothing?

“Relax.” The sudden feeling of his head into the crook of your neck threw you off.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around his torso muffling a quick “I like you”.

Oh god, what did you do? You really shouldn't havce come tonight.

You felt him sink into your neck even more and muffle a

“I like you too”.

You could feel it reverberate against your skin. Gojo slowly pulled back, your body warmth suddenly dropped and you were cold but that didn't matter right now. The urge to kiss him was unbearable.

You leaned in a little closer a jolt of shock ran through your nerves and you felt your legs give way, you couldn't stand up properly and slowly fell forward into Gojo's chest.

“Are-e you okay?!?” he said voice shaky as he held you up and spotted a bit of blood trickling down your lips.

“I can't feel my legs, I think I'm going to pass out-” you gasped at the sharp pain in your throat causing more blood to trickle down your bottom lip.

“It must have been the drink” he swiftly picked you up bridal style (yessss -////-).

Someone had spiked your drink with how knows what and what it and what they planed to do when it came into effect. It had only been 4 minutes out of the 7 so the door was still locked.

“SOMEBODY OPEN THIS UP” Gojo yelled while kicking at the door.

It wouldn't budge and everything around you went fuzzy. Gojo could feel you going limp in his arms and in panic he kicked the closet door one last time with all his strength.

The door flew the hinges and walked out trying to keep you awake and responding. As he carried you down the hallway there were whispers and snickers.

“Hey man, I can take her from here. She just needs to sleep so hand here over and just enjoy the party.” A seemingly drunk dude said.

“I don't think I will, now move.” Barging past the man harshly quickening his pace to his apartment not too far off campus. It must have been the guy, he must have spiked all the drinks.

The moon shone and your breath slowed down along with your heart rate, everything was foggy but you tried your best to stay awake as you clung onto Gojo’s shirt.

“Hang in there” He said as he unlocked the door and sat you on his kitchen counter. You were struggling to sit up straight and not fall over while clinging on to the edge of the counter.

the sounds of quick opening and closing of the draws and cupboards filled the room. The tap was on and there were stirring sounds, it was safe to say you had no idea what was going on and your dazed state wasn't helping.

“Drink this.” he held the cup up to your lips and you drank it, you were too weak to even refuse. Not that you wanted to anyway.

You drank it all and your head leaned into Gojo's back as he placed the cup down on the opposite counter.

You wrapped your arms around him and mumbled a ‘Thanks’ he turned around carefully holding your face in his hands. The blood coming from your lip had dried, he leaned in closer to your face.#

Was it wrong to kiss you now? You were still dazed, but he couldn't help it when you leaned in your head closer and said

“It’s okay” while your vision slowly flooded back, thank goodness that Gojo took notes and remembered the lectures in chemistry with you when you both did the assignment.

Leaning in Gojo looks past you out to the window outside, it began sprinkling and you were in no way in any shape or form, able to walk back to campus in the weather soon to come.

He was so absorbed with his thoughts that he failed to notice his lips brush up against yours.

His eyes widened but when you did pull away he went straight in for it your arms around his neck lazily hanging off his shoulders as one hand supported you back and his other holding the back of your head gently. He slowly pulled back and watched your eyes flutter open, the sight made his heart skip.

“You don't think you'll regret this?” Gojo said with his attention all on you pending for your answer.

“Best first kiss of my life” you smiled at him before pulling him in again by his collar.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This was very self indulgent. Not my best work but I'll post it just for fun. I haven't written a Gojo fic yet so this isnt totaly great but its an okay start ig. Reblogs r welcomed and thanks for reading.

EDIT: When people ask what my greatest accomplishment is, it's 100% the fact that ponderingmoonlight liked my fic. No hesitation.

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welshoot · 7 months

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Talent and Overblots: An Interesting Relationship

So I read an analysis about Leona and his overblot and it has gotten me to thinking and, only just realizing that talent is a bit of a theme for Twisted Wonderland. Or rather, talent in a more negative lighting than it is often portrayed in.

Simply put, everyone who has overblotted is also talented and said talents (+ the side effects of being talented) really seem to be a large part of their trauma, stress, and varying issues that culminate in their overblot. I’m going to put the rest of the analysis under the cut for fear of any spoilers and due to length (and it is long), but this is something that is incredibly fascinating to me since this portrayal of talent is so wildly different from what is typically seen.

Starting with Overblot #1, Riddle is obviously talented. He became a housewarden in his first year, has an incredibly powerful signature spell, knows all the rules of Heartslabyul, and is a top student in a school filled to the brim with geniuses. We know from his overblot backstory that his mom held him to strict rules and pushed him too far, always demanding he be better than the best. Talented wasn’t enough. He had to be perfect. And that is, quite simply, what led to his overblot. He was holding others to that same horrifying strict regime. Talent isn’t enough, you must be perfect. But Riddle’s talent(s) is what made this drive for perfection truly frightening. That talent of his is what helped to lead to the pedestal that he (and others) placed himself on. And then his view was an incredibly simplistic, and even relatable one. If I can do it, so can they. But that viewpoint is what led to him pushing too far and breaking down when he realized exactly what he’d done. Ace quite possibly put it best when he informed Riddle that he was, “An extension of her”. Her, being Riddle’s mother. Realizing that he’d become that same tyrant, constantly pushing that talent wasn’t enough and you had to be perfect, was a big part of Riddle’s overblot. Because what is worse than becoming the very thing you’ve feared and toiled under since you were a child?

Leona is obviously talented. He is one of NRC’s geniuses, implied to be a very physically strong beastman, possesses an incredibly powerful signature spell, and has the cleverness to think his way out of any situation on top of the fact that he can power his way out of most problems due to his incredible persistence. But those talents were little more than weights around his neck when nothing he did mattered. He would never be king no matter what he did. But how much of Leona’s overblot was ever really being about king, when the crown that just the image that stuck with him? After all, the crown was the first thing that he was probably told he could never have no matter how talented he was. So kingship became a symbol of all he can never succeed in, despite his many talents. In the Savannaclaw chapter, story vignettes, and even in events people are constantly telling Leona that if he just tried he could do it. He is talented after all. And how much must that sting? You’re talented, and you have tried, but no matter what anyone tells you, it doesn’t seem to matter. The words of encouragement others give him are just like a slap in the face because failure keeps rearing its head. Thoughts like that can easily lead to or worsen depression and self-loathing. Especially when he gets his hope up once more that maybe he can do something, he keeps getting dragged back down, either by life’s machinations or his own occasionally self-destructive behavior. As a culmination of this, we find Leona exactly where he was in the Savannaclaw chapter. Failing once more and finally breaking apart as it occurs in front of those who have placed him as their head, the leader of their Pride. Not only has he failed himself, he has failed those who place their faith in him. To Leona, it no doubt looked like his greatest fears were true. Even with all of those talents, Leona feels worthless because he can’t succeed even once.

Azul is talented even if he himself doesn’t see it. Not many can say they have a successful restaurant business, and have hoodooed both the headmage and a good number of one’s fellow students at his age. Azul’s talent isn’t the one he wants though. He wants something more flashy and easily seen. Something that will make others not bother him. He never wants to be a silly little octotwerp who gets made fun of again. And, at this point, Azul can’t seem to see his knack for business for what it is. A talent. Being surrounded by so many obvious talents at NRC is bound to crush him, because everywhere he looks there is someone better than him in some way. So Azul gets greedy. He won’t let them make fun of him and look down on him like his previous classmates did. He can’t take that again. But then all of his carefully calculated actions come crashing down around him. Leona destroys his contracts and asserts, no less, that Azul has been beaten by a magicless prefect. And that is when Azul truly starts to crumble to pieces. He can’t even beat someone that he no doubt viewed, at that point, as a nobody. His actions turn desperate as he fears that Jade and Floyd, the two who’d actually taken a look at young Azul and saw talent there, are abandoning him because he’s been beaten at his own game. In Azul’s eyes, he has no talents, so why would they stay? All those feelings come racing back and Azul really does feel like a nobody. Just a silly little octotwerp even despite all his efforts. And so he overblots. Because obviously if you aren’t talented, then no one wants you and it doesn’t matter.

Jamil is talented in numerous ways and, unlike Azul, he knows it. But Jamil’s talents consistently get ignored or downplayed by everyone, even his own family. And it’s all because of the fact he works under another family so in the eyes of those around him, Jamil can’t and shouldn’t be better than Kalim. So he blames Kalim, even though he knows it isn’t Kalim’s fault that they were born in the positions they are in. Even though Kalim is someone who has always lavished praise on Jamil’s talents and never downplayed them. Even though Kalim is his friend. It’s too much. Because each time Kalim, the source of Jamil’s woe (at least in his eyes), praises him, it’s like a slap in the face. A reminder that even though you’re talented, you aren’t allowed to reach the full height of your abilities. All because of this fellow, who is your friend and greatest supporter. When Jamil’s grand scheme is foiled, it breaks him. It’s a hard hit to his ego and probably feels like yet another reminder that he can’t outdo Kalim. And, to top it all off, there’s the guilt. Because like it or not, Jamil knows it’s not Kalim’s fault because Kalim, for all that he doesn’t understand or realize about their situation, would never put Jamil in the situation that he has found himself in. And so Jamil overblots. His talents don’t matter because he isn’t allowed to show them. He’s restrained, and all of that frustration is suddenly coming out.

Next is Vil, whose troubles are so curiously (and perhaps amusingly) similar to Leona’s. Because for all of Vil’s talent as an actor, he can’t get the role he so desperately longs for. To be the hero, standing on stage till the very end where people will notice him. But it is Vil’s talent (and beauty) that weighs him down and makes people speak of how special he is. And isn’t special so similar to being unrelatable? So talented is he, so special is he, so unrelatable is he, that he must be the villain. Because no one wants a hero that seems so otherworldly, perfectly beautiful and talented. No, they want a hero they understand. A more relatable type of attractiveness, a more mundane level of skill. A villain is, as Vil’s dad asserts in the overblot flashback, a hard role to play. But Vil knows that it’s also the role everyone hates. No one wants to be the bad guy. And how often do people actually pay attention to the villain? Everyone’s eyes are on the star of the show, the good guy. Getting typecast because of his talents is a big part of what leads to Vil’s overblot. He is so weighed down by how inescapable the role of villain seems that he quite literally becomes a villain. And, mirroring Riddle, the realization that he has become that thing he so loathes and maybe even fears is what causes his overblot. The golden child that he was has finally fallen and become mired in the hideous filth that remains when one’s talent becomes a set of shackles that makes you ‘special.’

Idia is, like the others, talented. But interestingly he seems to loathe his talent just as much as he loathes a crowd. Despite his amazing technological achievements, Idia doesn’t want the recognition of fame that comes from his talents. In many ways, he almost behaves like he wants to be free of his talents. As if that talent is a chain. And perhaps it is, that talent makes him well-suited to the position he was born into is yet another chain that binds him to the Island of Woe. His wishes don’t matter. Idia is doomed to his position by both his family name and his talents. The stress of such a truth paired his past with Ortho’s death, and the constant reminder that he is at fault for it (or so he constantly tells himself) is what causes his overblot. Because at least this way, maybe Idia can use his talents once more to do something he wants. To save his brother, and atone for what he has done.

Finally, there is Malleus. Another individual with undeniable talent. Someone who is already listed amongst the most powerful of magicians and who comes from a long line of talented people. But Malleus’s talent, skill, and power for magic is what causes others to fear him, worship him, and avoid him. No one wishes to approach someone so fearsome and talented, because how could they? He is a royal who seems so far beyond them, they cannot comprehend such talent and power. Surely he is beyond them. And when they can’t understand him, perhaps it is better to fear him. It’s only natural to fear that which we can’t understand, so that is what happens to Malleus and his incomprehensible power. The isolation that stems from other’s fear and misunderstandings leads Malleus to do what is only natural. To cling to those few people that remain near him. Those who don’t fear him and instead accept him. And that isolation, paired with the need to cling onto those precious few while all others continue to stare at him in awed horror, is what contributes so greatly to his overblot. Because if those few leave him, what does he have left in his ivory tower of talent?

Anyway, I just find it fascinating that Twisted Wonderland has portrayed the darker side of talent and how it can lead to so many issues for those that hold it. Talent is a blessing in many ways, but there are two sides to every coin and it appears that talent can just as easily be a curse in the wrong situation.

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sunoorintarou · 7 months

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Catharsis: Kingdom Come.

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Itadori Yuji, Kugisaki Nobara and Mahito

Warnings: Character death, murder ig, blood, gore, soooo angsty it isn't even funny, mentions of mental health, breakdowns, regret, neglect, ingestion of blood, grief, Mahito deserves his own warning, so so much self loathing, it's just alot.

Notes: Longest part yet. In my defense, I listened to Kimi Ga Kureta Mono, Give It Back and Inertia, Rapport, Lamp, and Ichiko Aoba while writing this

You hadn't expected the members of Jujutsu Tech to find you so quickly. It had barely been a few months after all. But here you were on a 'stroll' with Mahito and Jogo, when suddenly, you had the displeasure of seeing Yuji and Nobara.

You had hoped to escape before they noticed you, but it was too late.

That was how you ended up in this stand-off, standing next to Mahito with your hands in your pockets. You were so nonchalant, not even looking them in the eye.

"This seems like it's gonna be a pain." You whispered to Mahito.

"Come on, these are your friends, don't you think it'll be fun? Itadori Yuji hates me, though. I'm taking more of a risk than you." Mahito laughed.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, Jogo left at the first sign of danger.

"Y/n! What are you doing?" Yuji asked, eyes narrowing at your form.

Nobara's eyes were filled with rage, glazing over. Standing with the curses, however, you looked healthier than you had when you were with them.

Your face looked fuller, brighter, cheeks flushed ever so slightly. It seemed as if life had returned back to you, and that realisation left a stabbing pain in both Yuji and Nobara's chests.

"What am I doing? Well, I was taking a walk with my friend, now though, hmm, I hope I'm not fighting, that's for sure." You shrugged, leaning on Mahito's shoulder.

The goal, your goal, was to make them hate you, to make them never think of you without a foul taste in their mouths, and although it was cruel, this was the perfect way to do it. You had to taunt them, crush their spirits, become someone you weren't, briefly embrace the darkness in your heart before fleeing to the light once again. The only problem was that you didn't know which direction the light was cracking in from.

"You upset I took another one of your friends? If you want her back, come get her." Mahito taunted, narrowing his eyes. Jogo had decided not to take part in the battle, rather informing Getou of what was going on.

You watched as Mahito and Yuji went at it. Nobara hadn't moved yet. She was a strong woman, but not in the face of her ex - best friend whom she had watched whither away, unable to do anything about it.

"Man, this is lame. Nobara, attack me or something. Get it over and done with, I wanna go back home." You sighed nonchalantly, looking off to the side.

"Y/n, what... just what did we mean to you? Did we mean anything at all?" Nobara knew her words were selfish. We, we, we. I. Did she ever mean anything to you at all? This was selfish of her. So selfish of her to make it about herself, but she couldn't help it. Everyone is a little selfish with the people they love.

Home. You said that word so casually now. She remembered a day in summer so long ago when you, Gojo, Megumi, Yuji, and her were all on the training grounds. You weren't training, just sitting in each other's presence, talking casually.

You had been unusually quiet that day, and Nobara and Yuji had taken it upon themselves to get it the bottom of it, see what was bothering you.

She remembered the way your cheeks flushed pink, form trembling ever so slightly as you gathered all your courage and told them you liked them in the boldest voice you could muster. Claiming it was stupid, but you had been thinking about your family a lot lately and couldn't help but feel as if Jujutsu Tech had become your new family. Your new home.

Had you replaced them so easily?

"Huh, who knows. Fight me and figure it out." You smiled. Not the half smile they had grown used to, but a real smile, wide and bright. It didn't reach your eyes, though. It never did.

You knew Nobara wouldn't fight you. She couldn't. She was weak, and she cared about you too much. And you sighed, deciding to at least impart her with some knowledge.

"You're weak, Nobara. You're tenacious, and your curse technique is strong, but you hesitate, and that makes you weak. We mean nothing to each other now, I'm just another villain you need to defeat, so hurry up and stop being so pathetic and attack me."

Nobara felt sick. This was not you. This was not the bubbly, soft hearted girl who never hurt a fly. This was not the girl who painted her nails to match hers even though she didn't like nail polish. This was not the girl she had gone shopping with Maki with who stumbled in every pair of heels she tried on. This was not the girl who she shared a bed with whenever she had bad dreams. This was not the girl who cried in Nobara's arms until she fell asleep. This was not the girl who cried when they had returned from a mission all beaten up, the girl who had stayed awake sick with worry, spending all her time with Shoko in hopes she could help them with their injuries when they returned. This was simply not you.

And Nobara couldn't help but wonder if she was at fault. How long had you been feeling this way? How hadn't she noticed? Who was she lying to? She had noticed. They all had. But it had never occurred to them that you would actually do this. It was you, after all. You were the most put together, composed one of the group. Weak as you had been, you were never scared to put your life on the line to save others.

You who had been soothing their sore hearts and shining light upon their dark nights... had no one to do the same for you in return.

When had the days turned to nights in your head? When did the voices of everyone around you become muffled? When had the warmth in your heart turned cold?

Just how long did you suffer? Did you struggle with everything around you? With yourself? Until you decided this was the only way out?

Nobara took in a shaky breath, eyes glazing over.

You frowned when you felt the cursed energy of a few curses behind you. Jogo must have told Geto what had happened. You rolled your eyes, narrowing them at the curses, knowing they wouldn't listen to you.

Nobara now had no choice. She had to fight.

She activated her cursed technique, immediately getting to work fighting the curses. You hadn't moved from your spot, watching the fight a few feet in front of you.

"Fine then, if you won't get me answers, I'll force them out of you." Nobara shouted, steeling her resolve.

You smiled, inviting her to engage in combat.

You dodged all of her attacks, surprised when she tried to use close combat. You recognised her form, realising that she had been training with Maki. You smiled. She was still underestimating you. Just because you didn't have the will to fight, it didn't mean that you were still weak.

It was amusing, almost like an orcastrated dance. Nobara charged, you dodged, her fist flew at you, you used your foot to make her stumble. You were so much more agile and graceful than you had once been, easily dodging all her attacks.

It became even easier when the curses started attacking again. She could only hold them off for so long.

Nobara knew she had to end this soon, her cursed energy running low. But she finally had you in the perfect position.

"What's wrong, Nobara? Are you out of cursed energy already?" You mocked, staring at the girl a few feet in front of you. She was panting, clearly tired, but when she made eye contact with you, she smiled.

"Tomonari."

Your eyes widened, noticing the straw doll in her hands.

Nobara planned to immobilise your arms and legs, allowing her to effectively stop you and be able to bring you back with her. But in her rush, she was careless, one of her nails piercing a bit too high.

With the sound of shattering glass, your head snapped clean off. The strength of Nobara's nail easily overpowered the gold and gems that ran through your veins. Phosphophyllite only had a hardness of 3.5 after all.

The sound caught the attention of Mahito and Yuji, both boys turning in shock to watch as your head fell to the ground, shattering into pieces of gem so gorgeous, reflecting the moonlight like a puddle of ichor.

Yuji had felt weak. For the second time, he had been unable to protect someone he cared about. He was a Jujutsu Sorceror. He was supposed to be strong. How strong could he truly be if he could never protect the people he cared about?

What was he without Sukuna? Just a boy with above average physical strength who couldn't even protect the people closest to him.

This felt like Junpei all over again. Yuji felt sick. And of course, this God forsaken curse was involved again.

The rage managed to overtake how sick, how weak, Yuji felt. There was no point thinking about it after all. That wouldn't save you.

Perhaps this was worse than Junpei, in a way. You were the one person who saw through Yuji's smile. He could never hide how he felt from you.

His mind couldn't help but wonder to that night when everything had caught up to him. His grandfather, his execution, Sukuna, Junpei, curses, the cruelness of the world around him. Yuji felt as if he was slowly breaking.

And you, with a patience rivaling that of a deity, had patched up all the cracks, holding Yuji so gently he couldn't help but cry. Finally, let everything out, his true feelings, everything he had gone through, how unfair everything felt.

You were the one person he could never hide anything from.

Yet, you were the one person he could never read.

How did things turn out like this? He couldn't help but ask on all those nights he found himself in your room, looking at the picture you had taken of them all on the day of the first snow. The one you had framed on your bedside. The one you had left behind.

Yuji would be lying to himself if he said he didn't see it. He saw your eyes grow tired, weary from the burden you shouldered alone. Between the business of missions and training, he noticed the sadness that lingered in your features after Yukio's death. But he thought you'd be fine. He thought you had Nanamin, Ieiri - Sensei, Maki - Senpai, Panda - Senpai, Inumaki - Senpai. He thought you'd be fine without him, without Fushiguro, without Kugisaki.

He thought.

He also thought the same about Junpei. When would he learn?

When Yuji heard that sickening crack, he felt the same despair he had felt the day Sukuna had ripped out his heart.

Blood and gold fell from your neck, dripping down your body so slowly. Then, your knees buckled, body falling to the floor.

"Oh no, this doesn't look very good." Mahito commented, having made it just in time to catch your body. Pouting as if he were a child whose sweets had just been taken.

He smiled, noticing that one of the curses had turned to Lapis Lazuli. You had managed to touch it before you lost your power.

"Wow, Jujutsu Sorcerors are more cruel than I thought. Killing their own friends." He taunted, looking at the duo who looked absolutely crushed.

Yuji's eyes were wide, still in shock, while Nobara's legs had given in, hitting the ground.

What had she done?

Your blood stained Mahito's hands, his curiosity getting the best of him. He licked it off his thumb, contemplating the taste.

"It's salty."

"Let go of her."

Mahito looked up, hearing Yuji's voice. His eyes widened, noticing how Yuji's cursed energy had spiked. He was practically trembling with rage, hands shaking, yet the tears in his eyes told another story.

"Now that's no fair. You killed her, but you're blaming me. How about you go tell your friends what you did, and come get her body from me. Together." Mahito grinned. He fought only when he knew he could win. And right now, he knew he wouldn't. Your friend was ready to drag Mahito to hell and back if it meant you'd go back to him.

He took your body, like a soldier departing from war, stained in blood and the sorrow that poured from your soul. Disappearing before Yuji could react.

Their eyes then trained on the shattered Phosphophyllite in front of them. Nobara broke.

Just what had she done?

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callsign-phoenix · 6 months

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I wrote this as a part of my falltober fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x gn!reader Imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Day 25: Blood

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries

Bob had told you he was getting better, that after his accident he was starting to heal.

He had been in an accident at work, one which had cost his pilot’s life, and which had had Bob in the hospital for weeks.

They told you he was lucky to be alive after shrapnel of the metal frame of the plane had entered his side, cutting through his flesh like butter and barely being stopped by his ribcage.

His helmet had protected him from more of the same but his entire side was bruised, as well as his spirit.

When he was still in the hospital you were able to take care of him, giving your best to cheer him up and be there for him, watching him get at least a little bit better every day.

When he was cleared to go home you were far more reluctant because you got to see him all the time, witness every mood and feeling that went through him and see how fragile he really was.

You could see tears welling in his eyes more often now and you didn’t know what to say or do, in fear of offending him or making his hurting worse.

After a few weeks he seemed to be more in control of himself again, participating in longer conversations and telling you he was doing better, physically as well as mentally.

You were so relieved and he could feel you return to your old self as well, being a little more carefree and happy, like before the accident.

The relief only lasted a few days since you went into the bathroom you shared after Bob had left it, finding blood running down the floor of the shower and into the drain.

It sent a pang of panic through you even though it wasn’t a worrisome amount, you had just thought he had healed enough not to start bleeding easily.

You rushed outside to find him sitting on your bed in his towel, applying another bandage to one of his wounds, that also quickly soaked with blood.

You were scared more than anything as you moved towards him, kneeling on the ground in front of him and reaching out towards him before pulling back again, in fear of hurting him.

“You promised me you were doing better,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes as they met his.

Bob immediately looked away but he too had tears that tumbled down his cheeks, his face was a stern grimace, so different to his soft and kind expressions of before the accident.

“I’m not doing well. I have nightmares, my entire body has been hurting for weeks on end and I feel so guilty that I couldn’t save her,” he said in a tone that almost sounded unbothered, or maybe rather filled with self loathing.

You needed a second to take in what he had said, but you tried to make him understand that you weren’t going anywhere.

“I’m here for you, baby, I love you. I need you to tell me these things,” you said as you dared to put your hand on his thigh, moving it slightly to caress his skin, but you stopped when he winced suddenly.

“I don’t want you to hurt either. When I said I was doing better you were happy again,” he said softly, and your chin wobbled like you were about to start crying, but you stopped yourself before the first tear slipped.

“I don’t want you to lie to protect my feelings. You being honest and allowing me to help is worth so much more than us living a lie. I want to be with you, for better or worse, please give me that chance,” you said sternly, and Bob just nodded.

After a second he reached out to set his hand on top of yours on his thigh, just holding onto it without another word being spoken.

A few minutes passed before you wordlessly moved towards the bed, Bob curling on his side that was less hurt and you wrapping yourself carefully around him.

You spent what felt like an hour in that position, just holding Bob as he cried.

Shortly before Bob passed out from exhaustion you heard him whisper a breathy “I love you,” which you returned immediately.

Your hand ran through his hair and you whispered sweet nothings into his ear until he fell asleep, during which you held him and watched over him.

Even though you couldn’t see it yet, everything would get better.

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#robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #top gun bob #bob top gun #falltober

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kalolasfantasyworld · 2 months

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Paper Hearts and how it came to be

Hi everyone this a post nobody asked for, but I really wanted to make. I admit that I was inspired to make this after reading the afterword of the Embers of Sun and Flame by @thoughtfullyrainynightmare.

Paper Hearts spoilers - not plot specific, but overall concepts. I wanted to reveal a bit of how it actually happened that I came up with it and I can tell you it was a journey.

3 main points below and then I will expand:

Noelle and Nozel are my favorite characters, while Noelle finds herself and becomes happy. Nozel... we don't really know much about, but we know that he's been not great.

SILVA REDEMPTION - it was supposed to be a redemption story since the beginning. I wanted to give all the Silvas a more "human" outlook. A chance to make mistakes and change for the better. A chance to become a family.

The story did not start with Helena. She was "created" for the Silvas, to help them grow and learn. I couldn't do this with an already existing character without changing canon. Helena sees the whole BC (literally 5-170 episodes, plus a bit of manga until the Spade Raid) story from her perspective, a new perspective and gives an outlook on what the Silvas did then. However she developed as a whole well rounded character with her strengths, quirks and flaws. 💕

Nozel x OC

Nozel was in the dark for a long time. A cave filled with perfectionism, guilt, self loathing and unhealthy ambition. A very cold place. (a tiny reference to Allegory of the Cave by Plato, obviously this is a slightly different case)

I know he would not so easily get out of his cave towards the light

He needed to be "forcefully pulled out of it" and that's where a nosy, cheerful, talkative, very stubborn and at times annoying OC comes in

She helps him see the light in the outside world, by teaching him how to simply have fun, but also notice the good inside himself.

She pulls him out to that "shining light" and that's how her name came to be -> Helena meaning sun ray, torch, shining light

Nozel is by no means weak in this story, on the contrary I want to show him as a strong character who found some ways to cope with his past even though they were certainly not the best ones. However he is able to grow and learn (such as admitting, that he was wrong, or being vulnerable with time).

Silva redemption

We've seen moments, literal snippets of Nebra and Solid acting not like the last pieces of trash (when Nebra checks up on Solid, when he's hurt, Nebra realising that she is an obstacle after she's hurt, or when Solid tells Noelle to go to the shadow palace, little more besides that) and I think that to each other they were never that awful. I wanted to expand on that.

So let's introduce Helena, but hey they will treat her awful if she's below them in social hierarchy -> let's make her a princess with a lot of mana

A princess? which house? She's supposed to have a "fresh view" -> she has to be a foreginer

Foreigner?! Are you kidding?! they will eat her alive (I mean they did xd) -> There has to be some familiarity and how better to achieve that then through Acier, thus Luciana (Helena's mom) and Acier were best friends and Helena is actually half clover half diamond

She has to warm up the atmosphere -> once again the little light. Helena becomes friends with Nebra (Nebra learns how to treat a friend well), and she cares for Solid like a little brother (somebody will bite back and he will learn respect), Nozel... you know the story and with Noelle you will see how it goes.

However there will be more to their growth then just Helena and sometimes she will simply witness the changes

They are assholes to lower class people -> Helena is not, but why? even though she is a princess -> backstory time ;)

Nozel, Nebra and Solid are STILL very much ASSHOLES in Paper Hearts!!! I just give them an additional face and a chance to grow over time, to be more than that.

Character growth

people make mistakes, and these characters will make them in Paper Hearts, but they will learn and grow because of them

This story will be long, because it will not rush through changes. They happen over time and a year and a half is a lot. I want these to be natural.

Helena

her character was explained a bit earlier, she has to counter the cold of the Silvas and be full of life

She comes from a big, warm family so she can show the Silvas how does a healthy family life look like

She has FLAWS, quite a few actually, because people are not perfect and that's what makes them special and beautiful. She's supposed to be relatable.

Helena is not traumatised, depressed or broken. She has her past and it affected her, but she's learnt a lesson instead of letting it control her.

Another reason for why she is a princess -> I've always had a hard time picturing Nozel being long term with someone outside of nobility. Not because of arrogance, but simply responsibilities. Helena knows how to take care of a house, knows Royal customs and will be a good lady of the house, someone Nozel can lean on in his duties, who understands how important it is to carry the name. So they have some similar values and backgrounds helping them understand one another. Especially at the beginning of the story, when he would simply not talk to anyone below his status and that's when Helena was introduced. (also based on the assorted questions brigade that's his type)

Helena's hispanic -> I simply love hispanic characters, spanglish is a fun addition to the story (my friend pointed out to me, that I may have been subconsciously inspired by Lance from Voltron)

Helena's looks -> I wanted her to have that sun kissed, hispanic look

Her eyes are dark brown, almost black -> I wanted a silver haired baby with super dark eyes 😍 (that's Natalia and literally the only reason for Helena's eye color)

She wears red -> the red blue dynamics, although they kind of flipped, because usually the blue are funny and silly, while the red grumpy, but you know what I mean

There's a four years difference between her and Nozel, I wanted her to be a bit younger so that she would have an easier time connecting with the younger Silvas (there's 1 year between her and Nebra) and overall Helena is filled with that "youthful vigor"

her perspective is new and fresh, she's a foreigner and we learn about Clover with her

Paper magic... that's a lot to unpack especially since you don't know (she doesn't either) how her spells develop yet -> let's say I wanted her to be "weak" at the beginning and paper seems pretty timid and the "blank page" metaphor (song unwritten fits her so well). You have to trust me that Paper Magic was very carefully and deliberately thought through.

Helena has not and never will become a magic knight. She's supposed to be different than Nozel and have her own thing, which is healing. This also is relevant towards her not changing canon, but being able to interact with it.

Why Diamond out of all the suit kingdoms? -> You'll see xd (forever in the future though 🥲), but it came with the development of the story. As I said Paper Hearts started with the Silvas then branched out. However I do have some Diamond Kingdom lore.

CANON

this story is written in a way that it could happen in the show

meaning Helena is watching something but not interacting where the "BC camera rolls"

I need to rewatch quite a bit while writing, but I'm not complaining (okay the festival chapters were hard and there were times when I wrote a scene only to be like "No! This character can't be here!" and I had to delete it 😭 "bye bye funny scene")

I wanted for you to see what the Silvas are doing, while BB are on their adventures

So it can be the reader's favorite game -> I wonder what is Helena doing in this part of the series?

assorted questions brigade is my literal guidebook (Nozel is a lightweight, socks on during sex 😁)

Actually writing

I haven't written anything in YEARS

I've never finished a fic

I was self conscious about my stories and how I wrote characters (terrified that people will say "oh they would not act this way at all!")

writing is still one of the most personal things I have (it lies closer to my heart even than my art)

Miraculously I opened up and told my not BC friend the main plot of Paper hearts story -> she said "it's good write it" -> that same evening I had the first chapter drafted

That's why I explain literally everything in Paper Hearts (you're getting specific descriptions of how each character looks like). I want her to be able to read it without her needing to watch the show. So it's written that non BC people will understand it and people who are just watching won't get spoilers, because I give spoiler warnings.

Those who know BC see the foreshadowing, little hints and easter eggs, so it's just as fun.

Humor

I love humor

I laugh so much while writing this story and I do my best to make it really funny

Helena is hilarious

And the sunshine x grumpy relationships are my favorite

so Helena and Nozel deliver me so much content

Besides there are Finral and Vanessa

Finral and Vanessa

I love them

They are an amazing trio with Helena, so funny too

I wanted to let the readers know what's happening in BC and keep them in a loop where we are with the BC storyline, so they tell Helena about their adventures

Obviously there is much more to them than being a source of information

Platonic relationships

This story will have a lot of them, such as relationships between Helena and each one of the younger Silva siblings, or mentioned above Finral and Vanessa

It is a romance, but also much more

There are quite a few chapters in which Nozel is just not present and they're still fun, but focus on different things

Hard topics

there are and will be some tougher, more angsty chapters and sadder ones as well

BC story has its ups and downs in terms of characters well being. It can't be happy all the time.

Once again PEOPLE MAKE MISTAKES

I want them to learn from them

Action

I actually found out writing fight scenes is not awful

so I describe them (wait for the elf reincarnation arc chapters...😁)

Romance

This is obviously a romance, spicy, funny, thoughtful, lovable and at some points relatable, but it also has its downsides

IMPERFECTIONS!!!

Pink tinted glasses

Helena and Nozel don't miraculously fall in love, they learn it and it happens over time, they become "friends before lovers" it's natural.

Yhm sexual tension -> a lot, this story is rated mature for a reason!

Support

building relationships takes time

MISTAKES!!!

misunderstandings

It is soft, touching, but painful at times

There's a song in my first language saying (this is my translation):

Love is no teddy bear, no flowers

It is also not a horned devil

Nor it is love, when one is crying

And other is jumping on them.

Because love is not a film at any cinema.

Neither roses, nor kisses - little, big ones..

But love... is when one is falling down

And the other is pulling them up

that's the Nozelena I'm going for ❤️💙

Song additions (as you can see above😉)

i love music and I love incorporating it in this story

so song guessing like in chapter 21 was so much fun

I even created a full playlist for one of the latter chapters (i listened to it while writing, now it sometimes plays when I drive a car xd)

And there are some songs, which just fit the characters and I will link them

I'm really just goofing around with this, but it makes me so happy

Other ships

i know they're not there yet

but they will be in the right time of BC storyline

Helena is too nosy to not butt into other relationships and not be a matchmaker or something...

I just wanted to give some love to the characters I like and won't really gallop of canon, but they will have some cute scenes (not all the ships I like though, that would be too much, so I chose those fitting the plot, very sadly no Greyche, no MagLuck 😭, maybe mentions of them though)

Canon is the reason why I'm doing mostly "canonic" ships

Other characters that appear

This story ends up being not Helena x Nozel, not Helena x Silvas, but Helena x BC characters overall

it's funny and interesting how they interact

And I want to show some love to other still amazing characters, who just did not find their place in my top of the top, or did not really fit the plot of this fic as mains

Development

writing this story is a process

and I have it plotted out, so everything really does happen for a reason. I'm not changing the plot whatsoever since I came up with it and it was before setting up Ao3 or this tumblr account.

but then there are some little things, which I don't see coming and an additional chapter appears (I'm loosing control over the length of this story)

The "story tells you what it wants" and I follow it, so the chapter details are not set in stone

I also realised I can't write short chapters any more, so it prolongs the story too and sometimes I need to split them in two (for example the festival chapter was supposed to be in 1 mayeeebe 2 -> it's in three, elf reincarnation was supposed to be one -> it's in three)

But I think that what's in there is necessary, interesting and just fun so i won't make this story shorter on purpose, that's not the point

Illustrations

They happened. There's nothing to explain here. I just like to draw. I've read two fics with illustrations and I found them fun. I wasn't planning on illustrating every Paper Hearts chapter, but it may happen.

I'm truly exploring what I can do with my art in those illustrations so they are made in multiple styles, at different points in time and they differ greatly.

The title/s

You will understand why Paper Hearts, when I finally will get to a chapter titled this way

It's obviously connected to Helena's paper magic

Each chapter title matters -> I spend a lot of time on thinking them through and they greatly foreshadow what will happen, a lot of times in metaphorical ways

They are made in a specific style "The ...." -> I just thought it would be fun to stay consistent

Damn, this was a loooong post!

I hope you guys enjoyed this little (not really 😂) explanation and are enjoying my passion project called Paper Hearts.

For those who are reading Paper Hearts I hope you like how it came to be and continue with me on this journey through BC. I'm forever grateful for your support.

For those who haven't read it I strongly recommend it to you. The first few chapters are a bit icky, because I was just learning how to write and setting up the scene, but it's a good story. This statement I've actually never doubted. 💕

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whinlatter · 4 months

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i MUST hear your thoughts on "im your man" by mitski and how it's the ginny/harry/sirius trio anthem in "beasts"...must hear

what have you done asking me about this...... a great and terrible mistake........ the air is thick with sirens...........

basically i'm your man is an absolutely perfect song about feeling unworthy and undeserving of the love someone gives you, and a feeling of great dread that one day the other person will realise it and leave. it is - for this reason - so eye-wateringly ginny-sirius-harry coded i simply cannot bear it. that whole album (the land is inhospitable and so are we) is heaven and there are so many songs on it that have been absolutely dynamite for getting the juices flowing with this fic (the frost and star are my hinny anthems for chapter 12 👀)

so i am taking a short dissertation writing break to offer an entirely unhinged rant about i'm your man complete with some mild beasts spoilers because apparently i care a lot about this inexplicably. thank you so much for humouring me!

you're an angel, i'm a dog or you're a dog and i'm your man you believe me like a god i'll destroy you like i am

the first verse plays with the idea that there are three tiers of being - dog, man, angel/god - that all exist in relation to each other. the narrator sings the song to put themselves down. you're an angel, i'm a dog - meaning, i'm lowly nothing compared to your pure divine greatness. in the next line, a twist and advance on that idea: you're a dog (faithful, honest, loyal, loving easily and with such trust) and i'm your man (the one who is responsible for you, who you look to protect and sustain you, who is unworthy of that kind of adoration). you believe me like a god - you trust and believe in my power and ability to take care of you and guide you. but then: i'll destroy you like i am - the only real godlike power the narrator identifies with is the capacity for destruction and ruin.

ok partly it's... you know....... the dog thing because i am very on-the-nose. (obviously sirius as padfoot, but also the distinctions in the wizarding world between beings as the moral civilised entities vs the beasts, the wild and lawless and violent magical creatures). but it's also this suggestion of hero worship and adoration from one character to another, and the object of that kind of love struggling to feel worthy of it and fearing the power it has given them over the other person. it's such a huge vibe for how i'm thinking about these characters !! i feel like it works both for harry and sirius' relationship as well as harry and ginny's: the love and reverence harry has for sirius, when sirius is filled with so much self-loathing and guilt and awareness of his own failings as a parent figure, and the way harry comes to love ginny and think of her as this pure singular light and symbol of all his hopes for a bright and good future, which (i think!) would be a lot for ginny to take on and live up to and feel deserving of. there's even shades of it in how i imagine ginny feels about sirius in the flashbacks - little ginny looking up to sirius like he's a god, hanging off his every word, sirius backing away from being responsible for this child's admiration and desire for guidance from him.

i'm sorry i'm the one you love no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me, i should die i deserve it, don't i

i mean this is a pure sirius verse imo also with such harry shades to it ('i deserve it don't i' pure ootp harry angst). but i see some of ginny in this too ('i'm sorry i'm the one you love' - her wish that she could just be such cool and chill and easy and trying to live up to this idea harry sometimes as of her as so strong and stoic and able to deal with things, and then her feelings when all that comes crumbling down....)

i can feel it getting near like flashlights coming down the way one day you'll figure me out i'll meet judgment by the hounds

the feeling of being hunted! sirius and harry as wanted men! ginny getting found out and caught in her secrets and half-lies! 'i'll meet judgement by the hounds' god. god

people always gave me love others were never to blame after all you believe me like a god i'll betray you like a man

i think of this verse as the sirius and ginny verse. here the narrator locates the source of their unworthiness internally, not in being deprived of love by others, but in something fundamentally broken and tainted inside them. sirius as a character can't blame a total absence of love for what he's become - he was loved, he blames no-one but himself for the loathing he feels for himself. ginny, too, could not have been more loved, both before the TMR ordeal, but also thereafter - she comes from a family that adores her, she is widely liked and admired; but still, there's something missing in her sense of self. i do not wish to spoil future chapters but yeah this is bit is a Big Mood as we come closer to understanding ginny's war and what it asked of her

in chapters 10 and 11 of beasts, i started to play with this idea of the traitor, of a person who has made a great and terrible choice to betray the people close to them and in doing so revealed a true self that was there all along but lay dormant. so far in the fic, i've tried to thread in a lil drip-drip-drip of questions about the self, who a person really ever is, and about the choices characters make because of their sense of who they are, especially moral choices, in a war and under a regime that must, ethically, be resisted.

of sirius, harry, and ginny, so far it's sirius who knows most about what it is to be a traitor: someone who spent the bulk of his life assumed to be a turncoat, who is consumed by his hatred of wormtail and the memory of his treachery, who can't even begin to grasp the layers and dimensions to his own brother's betrayal, and who fundamentally still thinks of himself as a traitor to his best mate, believing himself to having 'as good as' killed lily and james. harry is the one who's full of trust, throughout the war:

'“No,” Harry said out loud, and they all looked at him, surprised. The firewhisky seemed to have amplified his voice. “I mean . . . if somebody made a mistake,” Harry went on, “and let something slip, I know they didn’t mean to do it. It’s not their fault,” he repeated, again a little louder than he would usually have spoken. “We’ve got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don’t think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."'

“No, I think you’re like James,” said Lupin, “who would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends.” Harry knew what Lupin was getting at: that his father had been betrayed by his friend, Peter Pettigrew. He felt irrationally angry. He wanted to argue, but Lupin had turned away from him...'

ginny, of course, knows what it is to be betrayed - by her first real friend, by her own brother. but i just think these two final lines, the twist on the first verse, are such a huge huge mood for drawing some of these ideas to the surface as the plot inches (v slowly lol) forwards - the idea of a character who has had every faith put in them by someone who loves and believes in them, who fears that they wll buckle under the weight of it and betray that love and trust in terrible ways. to betray you like a man - for the great moral sin to be something inherent to no other creature or being but man - is just such a powerful cool as shit line that is really gettin me going for writing the next bit of this fic.

wow i didn't even know how much i cared about this song but turns out it's a lot???? troubling for me!

#beasts #sirius black #hinny #mitski the woman that you are #that whole album is fire #i got told off for insisting i don't like my mind was a christmas song and sticking it on on christmas day #like sorry it's MY song of worship?#beasts spoilers

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snippychicke · 2 years

Text

@avellanas-nutty-empire, Hey, you remember that Kalego smut I promised? It's finished~

Naberius Kalego x Reader (Afab)

Explicit smut with possessiveness, jealousy, magical bondage, Kalego being slightly touch-starved, mentions of over-stim, slight wing-play, maybe a breeding kink?

You whined as you gripped Kalego's hair, your breaths coming in gasps as the demon took his sweet time exploring the flesh of your breast with his mouth, his hand giving its twin similar attention. His fangs would scratch the sensitive skin of your nipple just slightly, pressing it between the sharpened tooth and his tongue, making you unconsciously arch your hips towards his.

He loved driving you mad like this, his magic keeping you virtually paralyzed, your legs spread wide and bent to accept his narrow hips. Kalego allowed one hand free will, while the magic kept the other pinned to the bed beside you. (He couldn't deny he loved your blunt nails scratching his scalp as you pulled his hair.)

Tonight, he needed you. He needed to touch every inch of skin and claim it as his. If he had been in a more lucid state of mind, he would have felt a rush of self-hatred and loathing.

After all. Him? Jealous? Of Shichiro, of all demons? He knew logically that Shichiro meant nothing with his friendly touches. Shichiro's feeling was strictly platonic, as were yours towards the giant demon.

But maybe it was the fact the Misfit class has driven him closer to his evil cycle earlier than he expected. Or Lord Sullivan and Opera had gotten under his skin. Or maybe, maybe, he was jealous of how the other Professor could touch you so casually through the day. Balam could get away with that.

But if he had tried something as innocuous as brushing your cheek or even touching your hand, he knew the rumor mill of Babyls would erupt. The precarious peace that had fallen over the school would shatter and he'd regret such a simple act.

No one could find out he had fallen in love. Not only would he never hear the end of it between his peers and students, it put a huge target on your back. And he absolutely couldn't risk that.

His mouth drifted away from the abused nipple, pressing kisses and leaving small love bites in its wake as he drifted downwards.

"Kalego," you whined. He couldn't resist meeting your lust-filled eyes as his lip found the edge of your hip bone and sucked, pulling a deep purple bruise to bloom beneath the skin.

No one, not even Shichiro, would be able to see his marks, but that was the point. All of this, his. You belonged to him. His fingers found your fold, a dark smile spreading across his lips as the slick coated his finger and allowed him easily to slip inside. Your cries were like music to his ears as he teased you, taking his time to study the hidden passage, every small detail as he slowly pumped his fingers, thumb occasionally brushing across your clit.

He knew exactly where to touch, how hard to press as he curled his fingers. You writhed against the magic, and he took sadistic glee in watching you come undone despite your best effort to hold on to some kind of decorum. He played you like an instrument until you screamed and cried with abandon. Until you gave in him and lost yourself in the pleasure he was able to coax from your body.

Only then would he allow himself his own pleasure. A smirk played on his lips as he loosened the fastening of his pants, his shirt discarded long ago. Your eyes that were rolled back in pleasure just seconds ago watched with rapt attention as his fingers slowly undid the buttons before pushing the clothing down over his hips and straining member.

"Did you think I was finished?" He all but purred as he leaned down to tease your lips, so swollen and bruised from passionate kisses already. Your soft whimper was your only response as you shifted your legs apart once more, eagerly accepting his narrow hips between your thighs. "You'll be lucky if you can walk after I'm finished with you."

His nails traced down your thigh before clutching tightly and thrusting into you with a single, powerful yet fluid move. You were still so wet from your earlier orgasms he could slip in with barely any resistance despite how tight you were around him. Kalego muffled his moan against your neck.

Devi, you were perfect. So very perfect and all very much his.

He allowed you barely a moment to adjust to his girth before taking what was his. Once more, your soft noises mixed with pleas filled the room, sounding like music to his ear as he fucked you with abandon. His thoughts were silent, lost to the way you felt around him, your hands and nails digging into his skin, the lewd noises mixed with your cries.

He was slowly coming to a crest when your fingers brushed the base of his wings, causing him to snarl as he gave a particularly harsh thrust. Not because of pain, but the opposite. The darkened, soft skin was extra sensitive normally, but especially now when he felt like every nerve ending was raw in such a delightful way.

"Careful, little cactus. You may have spines, but mine are sharper." As proof, he nipped your pulse point along your neck, holding it just so in a way he knew would push you even closer to the edge.

He wanted to drag you down with him into bliss. Break you so thoroughly that no other demon stood a chance at stealing you away from him, unintentionally or not.

"Kalego, please," you whined as your walls tightened around him, making each thrust even more pleasurable.

"As you wish," he crooned before shifting your hips to hit that spot deep inside you, your cries becoming absolute screams once more. Your hand found his wing base once more, and this time he swore it was on purpose.

His wings flared as a snarl escaped his lips as he came, his thrusts erratic but sharp as he pumped you full, pulling your hips as close to his as possible. There was no denying that instinctual urge to fill you up, claiming every part of you as his.

His love. His mate. Future mother of his offspring.

He allowed himself a few moments to indulge in the feelings. Your fingers caressing his face, eyes tired but so full of warmth and love before you met his lips in soft and tender kisses.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #kalego naberious #naberius kalego #kalego x reader

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— guard dog 08 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: the taste of betrayal isn't something new to you. but it still stings when it's delivered by the same people you begrudgingly put your faith in.

word count: 4k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka, kamisato ayato

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

notes: ayato makes his official appearance in this chapter, but like i said, this was written early patch 2.1 which was FOREVER ago, so the descriptions abt what he looks like are a little inaccurate JSAHFSD

header art cr: artofjuu on twt

masterlist

Your head was a bit fuzzy when you finally came to.

Memories of you stumbling on the way back to the estate. Being supported by Thoma and Ayaka alike in each step. Swimming in the murky waters of your own self-loathing as the moon mocked your predicament in the night sky.

From what you recall, you’d only consumed one of Thoma’s three promised drinks, yet the moment your eyes wrenched open the next morning, the worst hangover that ever existed came crashing over you like a tidal wave. But the exotic alcohol wasn’t behind it. Not at all.

You looked around, immediately noting that you weren’t in the attendants’ quarters. The familiar interior of Ayaka’s room was an undeserved comfort, and when you remembered how you fell apart back in Ritou, you suddenly felt nauseous.

She knew. You had no idea how; had no idea why, but she knew.

And yet…Ayaka didn’t condemn you for it. Instead, she cradled you in her grasp—putting back together all the pieces that shattered with every tender caress, every soft hum of that old forgotten lullaby. Comfort has been a stranger to you ever since you’d left your old life in Yashiori, and even if it was hypocritical in every sense of the word, you grabbed onto her. Clung to her presence like a lifeline.

I know you deserve better.

White noise filled your ears like how water would clog the hollow cavities of your lungs. You weren’t sure what to make of Thoma’s little stunt last night. His interrogation had a cut-throat precision to every word. The man you shared drinks with wasn’t the same person who knit silly patterns with the elderly retainers in his spare time, nor was he the chef whose miso soup was adored by everyone in the estate.

You hated it—how he forcibly brought all your failures, all your insecurities to light without breaking a single sweat. Being picked apart and broken down into nothing was easily your worst nightmare, and it no longer came as a surprise that after all these years, it’s Thoma who managed to tear all your walls, all your defenses asunder. But even with the chief retainer’s best efforts to dissect every skeleton in your closet…

You didn’t loathe him for it.

He didn’t stare at you like how the capital’s policemen stared at wanted criminals. Though he was nowhere near as cheerful as he usually is, you knew Thoma didn’t ask you all those questions to patronize you. You’ve felt the same way sometime before, too. When he’d secretly unveiled the curtain over the consequences of what you did to those men in Konda Village.

Thoma and Ayaka… If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought they were trying to help you or something.

Because… Why would they help a notorious assassin like you? The lightest sentence they could give when all’s said and done was a few years in the slammer. The worst being a public execution, maybe. But you’d already taken the risks into account the day you took up Doctor Naoko’s sword and fled for the capital. One day, you were going to pay the blood price for your sins—that’s the same old mantra you kept unconsciously repeating in your head. And you’d be a fool to think it wasn’t any less true just because these idiots from the Yashiro Commission were too kind for their own good.

You got up shakily before slipping out of the room.

The sun was already up when you traversed the halls of the second floor. Out of habit, you cast a sidelong glance at the end of the corridor. It’s a little unnerving how you’ve been here long enough to tell that the Commissioner wasn’t in his study. But you chalked it up to the fact that Ayato was rarely in the mansion these days. You weren’t getting used to life in this estate at all.

“You’re awake!”

You startled at the sound of a gentle voice resounding from the stairwell. There, you spot Hina carrying a pile of what you recognized as Ayato’s folded hakamas. You hadn’t really forgotten yesterday’s treatment, so you looked around for anyone else she could have been addressing.

Unfortunately, you’re the only one lingering on the second floor.

“Mister Madarame said that milady has relieved you of your chores for the day,” the healer informed with a smile, as if she and her friends didn’t openly badmouth you to your face yesterday. “You’re welcome to rest for as long as you want to.”

The suspicious look on your face lingered. “Okay… Thanks.”

Hina bowed her head into a curt nod before ushering herself further down the hall. But before you could contemplate whether you want to see the other retainers downstairs—

“Miss Kira, I…” She pivoted on her heels, pursing her lips. “I’d like to apologize on everyone’s behalf as well. For our behavior yesterday.”

You let her words sink in the silence of the morning, meeting her repentant gaze with glaring indifference. But…you couldn’t keep it up for long. In the end, you sighed, scratching the back of your head before leaning against a nearby wall.

“Why do you have to apologize?” you chuckled almost sadly. “I take it that everyone in the Yashiro Commission already knows what I tried to do, right? I deserve as much. Maybe even more.”

You’re almost positive that the only reason Ayaka had laid you off of the daily tasks is because they’d finally decided to turn you in for real. The moment you get handed over to the Tenryou Commission, they’ll definitely act as if they had no part in endangering the princess’ life in the first place. In the end, you’re just a tool to them. And a tool who couldn’t even live up to its purpose would be rightfully disposed of.

You knew all this yet…

“The people of the Yashiro Commission weren’t always as noble as you think, Miss Kira.”

Her words ring in your head more than they should. Then, a peal of recognition itched in the back of your head.

“Isn’t it the Kamisato clan’s personal preference to hire both ex-convicts and people with criminal records alike?”

The night you’d unintentionally eavesdropped on Thoma’s and Ayato’s conversation was still fresh in your mind. You’d always assumed you’d misheard them at the time, but from the way Hina was silently gazing outside the window now…

“We’re only human. We’re all susceptible to making mistakes. And for every mistake we commit comes a chance to correct it. But it’s entirely up to you if you’re willing to rise up to the occasion,” she said, meeting your gaze with a quaint smile. “That’s what this family has taught us from the day they’d salvaged us from our own dark beginnings.”

“I sincerely hope you’ll give it a chance, Miss Kira.”

Without waiting for you to reply, Hina stalked off to Ayato’s study—leaving you with more questions than you had to begin with.

Of course, your morning was only going to get more convoluted after that.

The attendants hanging around the common area had also forgone yesterday’s behavior. In its place, however, was an awkward sort of courtesy that made you wish you just holed yourself up in Ayaka’s room until it was time for them to hand you over to the authorities. You couldn’t do this. You could very much fake your way into their lives if they hadn’t known your true intentions, but all of this just feels so…staged. Artificial.

God, you hope they’ll turn you in soon.

However, just when you were about to grab something to eat, you passed by one of the meeting rooms by chance. The shoji doors have always been thin, which made all sorts of news spread rapidly around the estate. And it’s because of that, you’re able to eavesdrop on yet another conversation you probably weren’t supposed to.

“But milady, you shouldn’t trust her!” Ayame pleaded inside. “I’m aware you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart, but as someone who used to be just as wretched as that woman… I know a killer who’ll go great lengths for money when I see them.”

Inside, you could hear someone sigh. “Miss Ayame, we’ve already gone over this during the communal summons back at the pavilion, remember?”

Thoma…

Then, footsteps—falling heavy across the matted floor. You could almost imagine Ayame marching up to the chief retainer before jabbing a finger at his face.

“I’m especially wary of her effect on you, Master Thoma,” she scoffed. “Who would have thought that the retainer we trusted the most in here would let himself be seduced by the same person who tried to assassinate Lady Ayaka?”

Wait a minute. Who’s seducing who again?!

Thoma let out a disbelieving laugh. “Is that why you broke our agreement and informed everyone else in the mansion, Miss Ayame? We agreed that you would keep quiet about Miss Kira’s real identity. Yet you dishonored our contract because you thought she was seducing me? Interesting.”

“You may be the best out of all of us, but you’re still just a man. I’m not blind. I can see the way you look at her, and so do the others.” Ayame chuckled mirthlessly. “They were already suspicious of how considerate you’ve been for that outsider, and they instantly believed it when I said—”

“Miss Ayame, I think I’ve heard enough.”

Ayaka’s voice was calm as always, but it was underlined with a twinge of…hurt? Betrayal? You couldn’t say for certain. And though every word in this infinitely odd exchange was throwing your mind into a loop, you decided to keep listening.

The sound of Ayaka’s fan folding shut nearly echoed inside, followed by a forlorn sigh. “I greatly appreciate your concern for my safety. I really do. But don’t you think it’s unfair for you to judge her so harshly when we have all treated you fairly and without discrimination? Regardless of their past misgivings, the Yashiro Commission will always open its doors to those who come knocking.”

“That’s the way we have always done things, remember?”

Ayame immediately quipped something in return to Ayaka’s solemn response, but the sound of your pulse thundering in your ears blocked out all the extra noise.

You felt your chest twist painfully—feeling like someone had ripped your heart out to leave you bleeding on the ground. Your vision started to tunnel in as your brain processed the newly discovered facts before you. Ayaka knew, not because your stingy futon-neighbor spilled your secret to the entirety of the estate.

She knew because she was the one behind this ridiculous charade all along.

“Don’t you think I deserve to be part of the discussion too, milady?”

Ayaka’s eyes were doe-wide when you stepped inside, jaw clenched tightly as you affixed her with a stone-cold glare. Thoma seemed like he hadn’t expected you to drop by either—expression almost frantic as he attempted to talk you out of your obvious rage.

“Miss Kira, look—”

“Save it. I don’t want any part in this weird fucking social experiment you’ve got going on,” you snarked, turning your attention back to Ayaka. “In fact, you should’ve just told me you knew all along! We didn’t have to pretend. You could have just killed me instead of making a fool out of me all this time!”

Why did you give me hope?

It was all a ruse. Her kindness. Her words. Even the tears glistening in those stupidly blue eyes right this second. They didn’t really care. You were nothing but a means to sate this family’s egotistical need to save people, and you shouldn’t have deluded yourself otherwise.

But I want you to care. I do. I do. I do.

“I suppose there’s no use keeping up pretenses now,” Ayaka sighed, wiping her eyes with a white handkerchief. Even when she was crying, she was still so beautiful. “Yes. I’ve known from the start that you intended to kill me. But I think it’s evident in how I’m still alive and breathing in front of you that you don’t…really wish to take my life, yes?”

“You don’t know me,” you glowered, feeling that familiar, constricting feeling in your throat. “None of you do. And none of you ever will.”

All this time, you’d been instinctively bracing yourself for a barrage of crisis-inducing statements from Thoma. He showed you no mercy last night, so why should he now, when everything has finally been revealed?

But they never came.

As you adamantly held Ayaka’s gaze, you could see from the corner of your eye how he stared at you with a look you couldn’t really place. He wasn’t the cheerful housekeeper. He wasn’t the ruthless chief retainer.

If anything, he was a man on the verge of heartbreak.

“If you wish to depart, I will not stop you,” Ayaka murmured, fingers gripping her fan with a strange firmness. “And I will ascertain that Brother does not make any…countermeasures to have you arrested. You can leave and forget our time together even took place. If it means I will gain your forgiveness, then I do not mind if we live our lives separately from now on.”

…Forgive her?

As far as you knew, you’re the raging criminal here. You’re the one who kicked up this fuss within the Yashiro Commission just because you’ve flubbed a mission so terribly. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t make sense, gods fucking dammit!

“I’m done.” You laughed, raising your palms up in surrender. “I’m fucking done with you all.”

“Hey, wait—” It’s Ayame that boldly attempted to dissuade you, someone you’d forgotten was there in the heat of your anger. But you didn’t give her an opportunity to put another word in as you sprinted back outside.

Past the other attendants. Past the empty halls.

When you got to your locker, your fingers wouldn’t stop shaking as you cracked the lock open. You cursed a few times, banging on the door as if violence would open it any faster. So, you let yourself breathe for a moment. Once. Twice. Until you could feel the tears finally break from the surface of your eyes and onto your clothes.

“Fuck all of this. Fuck everyone in this shithole,” you muttered, letting the moisture run freely across your cheeks as you finally opened the locker.

You didn’t pay the clutter inside any mind. The fox figurine from Ayaka. The kitsune mask and bake-danuki plush from Thoma. They all seemingly stared at you in pensive silence as you dug around for the only object you wanted to take out of this room for the last time. But you didn’t care. Not anymore.

Kujou Sara’s feather was in your hands once again.

Everything rushed past in a blur from there. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, given that your own mental constitution was as wrangled as it was. You led yourself to the kitchen with the tengu feather tucked in the lapels of your garbs. Lunch preparations were yet to begin, which gave you all the leeway you needed.

You still remembered how one of the attendants taught you to start a fire to get the stoves going. In spite of yourself, you repeated her careful instructions—striking the flintstone against a cylinder of aralia wood that they’d always used to light the charcoal. After two or three tries, a spark ignited. The smoke scattered to the twigs and leaves they’d tossed into the mix until a lick of orange fire started to rise among the rubble—one after the other.

You stared at the growing flames with an indifferent look. Lightning seemingly crackled in your fingertips as you twirled the ebony feather in your grasp.

If I can’t make this choice myself, you thought. Maybe they can.

The back door to the estate’s kitchen was wide open when Thoma decided it was about time to cook lunch for everyone else. The scent of salt and seawater hung heavy in the air, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste before sliding the door shut. More often than not, the wind tends to blow the ocean breeze even this far up the Yougou Mountains. It was for that exact reason why he didn’t want the attendants to open it as they pleased.

When he allowed himself a moment to make a rough estimate of how many servings he should make, there’s a quick lapse in Thoma’s train of thought.

He hadn’t seen you since you stormed out earlier. And when he checked your locker, it was hanging wide open, but nothing seemed to be missing. The chief retainer sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

Was he a fool to hope that meant you were still coming back? Despite everything that transpired?

A raspy groan ripped its way from his throat as he massaged the bridge of his nose. There it was again—that indescribable instinct to keep you close to him.

Thoma once dismissed the feeling as vigilance. Despite the fact that you’ve somewhat warmed up to the rest of them, you’re still a criminal on the loose. If he had to take drastic measures just to put you down, he would do them in a heartbeat. But…

“I can see the way you look at her, and so do the others.”

A flush of red crept up the side of his neck as Thoma sighed into his hands. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering when his supposedly observant stares morphed into something more affectionate—if Ayame’s insinuations were anything to go by.

He was…fond of you. That was an uncontested fact. He’d even admitted that to your face the night of the fireworks festival, too. What compelled him to do so, even Thoma hadn’t the slightest clue.

But each day he spent with you, bickering in the halls, testing each other’s patience—he liked it. He liked how there was actually another person in this estate who didn’t regard him with utmost respect by default. Someone who naturally drew out a more feisty side of him that he’d always hidden away for the sake of keeping up the Kamisato image. Your ceaseless wit was a breath of fresh air and he wouldn’t mind if you lingered with them a little longer.

Reality, however, wasn't always that generous.

At the end of the day, you were still a murderer. He was still the chief retainer with duties to uphold before his own personal feelings.

He knew, from the start, that this was going to blow over sooner or later—starting with you finding out they had been lying to you all along.

The princess told him to give you some space. It was already obvious from last night’s events that you were not in the right headspace to completely digest everything that’s happened. And he knew that. He’s been by your side for the past month—even more frequently than he escorted Ayaka herself.

“I can’t make her realize that she has a choice not to chain herself to the past alone,” Ayaka told him once, a few weeks ago. “She’s starting to trust you more than myself. You’ll lend me a hand, right, Thoma?”

In the midst of his contemplation though, Thoma heard the familiar sound of flames crackling in the air. He frowned, eyes roving to the stove where the charcoal glowed red hot in the shallow pit in the middle.

That was odd. Had someone started one ahead of him? He didn’t run into anyone on the way, though…

But when he noticed that the lunch hour was drawing ever-so near, he decided not to think of it too much. With a sigh in defeat, he grabbed his apron from the rack before preparing an entire Commission’s worth of dishes as fast as he could. And then, he’ll entitle himself a bona fide fool when he makes one more extra serving.

Just in case a certain, self-sabotaging assassin dropped by if she felt like it.

A man with hair seemingly hewn from pure moonbeams found himself on a stroll in Chinju Forest.

Most of his retainers avoided this trail for all the logical reasons there were. The forest was mystical by nature, and no human in their right mind would willingly traverse into the great bake-danuki’s stronghold.

It’s a good thing that Kamisato Ayato liked indulging himself in the occasional thrill.

He led himself deeper into the woods, wholly aware of the eyes in the trees watching his every move. But despite being a human, the Yashiro Commissioner was no stranger to the otherworldly creatures that disguised themselves in the thick fog.

When Ayato arrived at his destination, though, the one he came to see didn’t seem like he was in the mood for visitors.

“Can I help you with anything, son of the Kamisato House?” Ioroi grumbled, his perpetually ossified visage seemingly glowing with contempt. “I have been dealing with one too many humans as of late, and I don’t think I can entertain you at the moment. If it’s not of dire importance, may I ask you to leave so I can have some peace of mind?”

Ayato flashed him a smile, setting down a basket of daifuku in front of the statue. Almost immediately, the tiny bake-danuki in the vicinity released their disguises—scuttling towards the sweet treats as Ioroi heaved a long sigh.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he told him. “But if the children are pleased, I suppose I can spare a few minutes of my time. So, what is it that you came for?”

“You mentioned having to deal with another troublesome human, right?” Ayato raised an eyebrow. “Would you care to tell me more about this person?”

The guardian of the forest scoffed. “That woman… She has absolutely no respect for me! I tried to get her to leave as Kichiboushi carried both my voice and my message. But she just ignored it! And no matter how much I tell the children to bother her and send her packing, she continues to remain indifferent!”

The Commissioner hummed, nodding. “So she’s taken up residence here, I presume?”

“Bah. Sure, she’s been sleeping near one of the abandoned shrines, but I wouldn’t say she lives here. I have no means to tell what time of day she leaves, but that one always heads up the mountain for hours on end.” Ioroi huffed. “It’s a good thing she isn’t making much of a racket since she’s frequently away. It’s for that reason that I have overlooked the slight she has committed against me.”

“I see,” Ayato replied, crouching down to scratch one of the little bake-danuki’s ears affectionately. “How about now? Is the woman in the forest?”

Ioroi was silent for a moment, as if contemplating. “Hmm… She isn’t here yet, but I can hear her footsteps on the earth. That woman’s probably headed back to the abandoned shrine as we speak.”

“Would you be kind enough to show me the way?”

“Ugh. You better be grateful that the children are taken with you,” the guardian mumbled. “Kichiboushi, Shousei, Gyoubu Koban. Go take him to the ghastly human who’s been invading our territory.”

The little bake-danuki acted the moment Ioroi had spoken. One even tugged on the hem of Ayato’s hakama as the other two started walking down the cobblestone path.

Before departing, though, he turned around to give the stone statue a single nod. “Thank you, Ioroi. I’ll make sure she’s out of your hair very soon.”

Ioroi gasped. “Really?! You will? Can you also put up signs at both entrances that say ‘No Humans Allowed’, too? You can be an exception, of course.”

“No.”

If the guardian of Chinju Forest could break free from his stone confines, Ayato was certain Ioroi would have body-slammed him to show him his place. Or turn him into an onikabuto. He wasn’t sure. The tales their mother had told them have long faded in his memory. Either way, he paid the guardian’s seething no mind as he followed the bake-danuki children down the hill.

He still had to fix his little sister’s slip-up, after all.

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#genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #genshin fanfic #thoma smut #thoma fanfic #genshin fanfiction #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin thoma #cryoculus #guard dog

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tinietaehyun · 2 years

Text

Thorns Amongst Flowers

[Prince!Soobin x gardener!f!reader]

Genre(s): romance, fluff, angst, royalty!au, minor enemies to lovers.

Contains: cussing/swearing, mentions of blood/gore/injury, manipulative behaviour, brief hospitalisation

[ damn it’s been awhile…well this was a draft from ages ago that I finally finished ,, man i hope it’s decent :”) ]

Synopsis; A gentle natured prince who loves to sink into his books and escape the monotonous world comes into contact with a head-strong, determined girl from the garden in his palace. Though for an unknown reason when the prince tries to come out of his shy shell, he is shunned by her in the most brutal way. He’s never experienced such dislike. Why does she not like him so? Most importantly why wasn’t he willing to give up on her?

—————————^^^^^^^^^^^^^————————

The grand library housed within the palace of the kingdom’s capital contains various books, scriptures, pieces of history. It was a treasure trove of historical information, a heaven of finding everything in one place. It was magnanimously built by the king three generations ago.

Not only was it an archive of information, but an astounding collection of fiction, stories written by the people, by talented authors who let their imaginations bleed onto the paper. Though only able to be accessed by the palace staff and of course the royal family, it was a chamber of dreams, secrets and truths.

To this magnificent library, comes a frequent visitor who deemed this room as his second home, or his home within home. He knows the nooks and crannies, the various aisles and turnings, the secret passages and rooms like the back of his hand. This visitor was only the ever so revered, publicly and well adored prince.

The prince was of unique nature, rather introverted yet intelligent and observant. Though not outspoken like his father, the king, or intimidating as his mother. Rather instead he was known for his timid, sweet mannerisms. He carried the air of a mellow angel dropped from the heavens above. The people absolutely adored the prince even from a young age, where he was (shockingly!), even shyer.

Despite the open criticisms from his own father and mother for being too timid, perhaps not even being fit to rule, Soobin didn’t take it much to heart. Well, it seemed that way to the palace staff. Only Soobin himself knew how his parents words about his demeanour would affect him. Not only his parents but the ruling council and advisors had the same thing to say about his gentle and kind hearted personality. Whilst well appreciated for his understanding nature, it wouldn’t suit well for becoming the next king. Being on the throne is one of both a powerful and dangerous position. One that required someone who could hold their ground, couldn’t be easily swayed in their decisions and most importantly was born to lead. All of which the ruling council and his parents thought he was incapable of. Yet he was the only heir after quite some time.

Soobin was on his regular visit to his one escape in the entirety of the palace. It wasn’t like he could walk the streets casually could he? Though very thankful for his lavish lifestyle, he thought that life could get rather suffocating. People constantly correcting his behaviour, having to act a certain way, having to be someone who he unfortunately wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t want to be king, he just thinks his people deserve better than him. Someone so meek and timid as a king, it seemed preposterous in his eyes. Could he truly be a good leader?

He wasn’t sure, he wanted to see the world for himself, though he enjoyed being inside encased by piles of books filled with stories of the very world he wanted to explore. Perhaps the illusion of fiction was too good to part with?

Soobin found himself pathetic at times, sometimes he found himself in this cycle of self loathing, and guilt for thinking otherwise, why, he was grateful wasn’t he? The prince, what a coveted and gracious position? So why did he have to resort to daydreaming amongst the pages to feel happy, to carry on each day? ‘How childish’ he thinks to himself.

“Ah, my dear, here to borrow more books I see? At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you finished half the books here by age 40!” The elderly woman laughs endearingly at the prince. The wrinkles on her face crinkling as she smiles brightly. Soobin merely becomes flustered and clears his throat, “Ah, yes…,” an awkward laugh escapes his lips.

He curses to himself. By himself he could be the bravest person to exist, he could slay dragons with his fingertips, beat up five people at once, hand out several royal decrees with a snap of his fingers. Well, all hypothetically speaking of course. In his imagination he could achieve anything. In his room alone, he was the most confident he could ever be.

“My dear, go and browse as usual. Would you like anything to eat? I have some biscuits.” She smiles warmly shaking a small netted bag of biscuits that she keeps for herself, and well, Soobin. He had found out earlier she had reminded him ever so closely of her son who had passed away due to chronic illness. It broke his heart, and so he cherished being in her company. Not like his mother was that affectionate anyway. Soobin smiles walking forward murmuring, “Your recipes never fail to impress me, Mrs Park.”

The elderly lady lets out a hearty chuckle handing him two butter biscuits covered in sugar crystals. Soobin loved baked items, and Mrs Park’s biscuits never tasted so good. He simply couldn’t resist! “These ones have a little chocolate filling I whipped up last minute, my son loved these when he was younger,” she chuckles reminiscing, “He’d refused to go to school without at least three in his lunch bag!”

Soobin couldn’t help but smile at her happiness, “Thank you Mrs Park.” He enjoys the biscuits as she chatters on as always much to his quiet amusement. “My dear, we’ve also ordered new books for next week, so you’ll have many new pickings!” Soobin nods his feet fidgeting as he fights the urge to start running into the aisles of books. Her eyes widen, “Oh look at me, keeping you! My apologies my dear, do go and browse and bring them for me to sign out for you.”

He smiles back at her before speed walking into the paradise of literature. The clacking of his leather boots resound out; the slightly stuffy nature of the room making him begin to sweat. His nostrils flare at the scent of both new books and old books mixed amongst each other. Soobin could be here for hours. He continues to browse picking up books occasionally and reading their synopses, taking his time to select the next two books he’d read over the next few weeks.

He is so engrossed in his books that he doesn’t notice himself stepping back as he peers to look at the shelf, that there was indeed another person approaching down the same aisle. “Hey-? Watch where you’re…” the voice quietens down as Soobin turns around unfortunately wanting to die of embarrassment. The source of the voice appears to be a young woman, dressed in clothes much less fancier than his. More like a simple gown matching the uniform of the palace staff. Her hair is ever so slightly messy with intense doe eyes and soft features. How pretty… Her and her book drop in a loud clatter on the floor. He awkwardly murmurs, “My apologies. I should have been more careful.” He bows down out of courtesy.

If his parents saw this, they would be furious. A prince shouldn’t be so apologetic, a mere sorry should suffice, no need for the extra words nor a bow, as his mother would lecture him.

As he rises from his bow, his eyes widen seeing her infuriated expression as she stands up. It looked all too familiar to him somehow. Where had he seen that face before? Her glare intensifies at his silence. His heart pangs; she looked like she was going to kill him with her glare alone. He stammers, “I really am sorry.” No response.

Soobin stands awkwardly as they both stare at each other; one obviously more hostile than the other. He hated this.

The young woman finally retorts out in an icy tone, “Whatever. I… it’s whatever.” She snaps her face away from him. She clenches her fists and lets out a frustrated sigh. Soobin mumbles, “Uhm, okay. Well, I’ll be more careful in the future, please don’t be upset.”

He was just too damn sweet for his own good. She snaps, “God you’ve not changed at all, still a pushover.” Soobin flinches at her harsh words, “Pushover?” She sighs, “Wait, no. I’m sorry that was harsh. I…that’s not what I meant.” The woman sounds utterly frustrated and almost flustered in demeanour.

Many thoughts sprint around Soobin’s mind. First of all, how rude? Second of all, did this girl know who she was talking to?, she must have right, she’s wearing the palace uniform! Lastly, the most intriguing of what she has uttered is that she has observed that he hasn’t changed. Does she know him personally?

He mumbles, “Have we met before?” The girl seems to become even more upset at the question, “Huh, you really don’t remember me…? Why’d I think you would remember someone like me?” Her voice cracks much to his dismay. Her eyes glaze over. She shakes her head, “I should have known. I should have known since your fall, you’d have not remembered. You don’t want to remember. You’re too good for me right?”

Soobin was beginning to get agitated as he mutters, “What on earth are you talking about?” She peers at him sadness glistening in her eyes, “Playing dumb? Or do you genuinely not remember? …I can’t tell.” Soobin sighs in frustration, “I’m sorry, I really think you’re directing your anger on the wrong person here. I understand, I should have watched where I was going..” he clears his throat softening his tone a bit. He mumbles, “But, I don’t think this justifies your attitude-“

Before she can utter another sentence, the librarian Mrs Park peers over into the aisle clearly not impressed by the commotion. She hums unimpressed, “What is the issue, oh! My dear, is there any problem?” She narrows her eyes at the woman beside him, “Do you not see that the prince is browsing for books? Are you bothering him? I’ll have you know I will not hesitate to throw nuisances out of the library.” Soobin pales and peers back at the young woman who merely remains silent sporting nothing but an icy, hurt glare. Mrs Park snaps, “Be gone with you! Goodness me, don’t you have any cleaning work or something to be doing?”

The woman’s eyes narrow back but she holds her tongue; she feels as though being shunned by the prince is already enough emotional distress and humiliation for the entire month. She nods and curtly bows towards Soobin as she frigidly murmurs, “My apologies your majesty. I shall be going back to attending my duties.” She rushes off clearly on the verge of tears.

Mrs Park wipes the disgruntled expression on her face replacing it with one of concern and affection, “My dear are you okay? Can’t even read and browse in peace can you? Some peasants aren’t as refined and polite as you my dear, apologies. She didn’t say anything to offend you did she? I will be happy to report it.” Soobin almost violently shakes his head at the words and frantically splutters, “No! No…it was my error I bumped into her that’s all, but thank you, uhm, Mrs Park.” He didn’t want to blow up the problem even further. He found Mrs Park’s words rather insulting.

All his mind was concerned with was, who was that girl? Why did she seem to know him? And why did he have to the urge to go see her again?

Images of her pop up in his head; her eyes. Her glittering and expressive eyes. She had alluring eyes. His heart aches in an eery form of nostalgia, they looked familiar. Her entire face did in fact. She gave off a familiar vibe? Had they seen each other before around the palace?; she does work here after all? She had mentioned so much in such little time it had left his brain in a frazzle.

Goodness, all he came here to do was read a good book. Before he could continue searching, as he steps forwards, the tip of shoe hits something and he peers down seeing a book haphazardly on the floor. He murmurs to himself, “…her book…” Soobin reads the cover, ‘Love Mourned; Love Forgotten.’ He hadn’t read this one before; it seems to be a romance novel.

She had forgotten her book. He felt bad considering he was the one who knocked it out of her hands. She had left in such a flurry she completely forgot about her book. His fingertips gently grip the hardback of the dark red book. As a kind gesture, and an act of goodwill, he should probably give it back to her. He’ll sign it out for her.

Why was he doing all this for someone he supposedly just met? Even he didn’t quite know the answer himself. All he wanted to know was who she was and how she knew him.

He wanted to satiate the fire of familiarity within him.

><><><><><

Soobin rests in his chambers, one foot atop the other, legs outstretched and back leant back against the headboard of his bed. The window left slightly ajar to allow for a soft but soothing breeze to enter his grand bedroom. The sound of the melodic birdsong enters his ears. It was truly the perfect environment to be reading in. ‘Time to escape reality for awhile again,’ he thinks to himself.

His eyes catch glimpse of the red book the girl dropped earlier this morning. He had to find her again for sure, how was he going to do that exactly? He didn’t quite know. To begin with, he didn’t even know her name, but for some reason he did know her face. Well, almost. He’s definitely seen it before, his intuition has been scratching his mind since their encounter.

Soobin lets out an irritable huff slamming his book shut. Whilst his environment was perfect for reading a good book, his mindset unfortunately was not but rather it was occupied with trying to solve the mystery of who she was and of course, trying to give her, her book.

Soobin goes deep into thought. Her words…. “God, you’ve not changed at all.” “Since your fall…”

He murmurs as his brows furrow, his lips forming a slight pout as the gears in his mind turn and rattle, “Since that fall…have I fallen? I do remember quite a few many falls when I was a child. What did she mean?” Soobin does acknowledge he is rather clumsy or flimsy at times, so that phrase didn’t really help narrow it down but he does surmise that the fall should have been serious if she was referring to it.

He does manage to recall that at around thirteen years old he suffered a brutal head injury. He doesn’t remember much of what happened except that he had fallen from a large height from one of the trees in the garden. To this day he still doesn’t know why on earth he climbed that high up a tree? Though that’s what his mother told him in regards to the accident. Soobin had suffered a brief concussion and heavy bleeding as a result of the harsh fall. From then on they didn’t even allow him out near the very tree he fell from.

Maybe she saw him that day? Though he must think she looks of similar age as him, so she must have been a little child too. Perhaps her mother and father worked here in the palace? He sighs exasperated, or maybe he was connecting useless dots. Whatever the case, he knew he’d only find out if she met her in person again.

Soobin swings his legs over and gets up off his bed with the red romance novel in hand. She probably wouldn’t mind if he read a few pages whilst searching for her right?

—————

Your fingertips delicately manoeuvre the flowers into the soil. A quaint smile paints your lips. The stunning asters mixed between the azaleas and magnolias. A stunning array and amalgamation of different species of flowers. The vibrant splash of colours dotting the grounds just makes your heart swell with pride. You had spent ages planting and taking care of all the flowers, bushes, and trees here in this particular section of the palace gardens. Secretly, you liked to think that your assigned area was singlehandedly the best looking and most aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The others here had no taste or any hint of passion when it came to gardening and flower assortment. Not your fault you had a gift, or should you say good genes. ‘Thanks father,’ you think to yourself amused.

“Y/n, I swear you’re going to start talking to the flowers next like your father does.” A chuckle resounds beside you and you peer up from your crouched position seeing your best friend: Ryujin. A teasing smile plays on her lips and you roll your eyes, “You do know it is actually good for the plants. They do like getting talked at.”

“You sound more insane everyday,” she remarks letting out a snort. You scoff getting up, “You-“ She finishes off for you, “Yeah, yeah, ‘I just don’t get it, plants are more special than they look, ectera, ectera.’” It almost seemed like your catch phrase at this point; rather embarrassing you’re now beginning to think.

You clear your throat, “Well, anyway, I much prefer this to your job.” Ryujin stops laughing and gives you an unamused stare, “Piss off, just say you can’t handle a needle and thread and go.” You smirk, “Not fun is it, getting made fun of?” She leans into your shoulder and lets out a long drawl, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You murmur, “Well, either way plants and animals are way better than humans in any case. Excluding you of course.” You had known Ryujin for over four years now, she works for the tailors on the palace grounds inheriting the position from her late mother. Despite being rather reserved to others, she was quite mischievous and rambunctious with you. You brought out her more extroverted side to which you were glad.

Ryujin resounds groaning, “Please don’t tell me you’re still hung up on Soobin? Come on dude, he’s a prince, of course he’s a pompous imbecile. From what you’ve told me, he just dropped you like that, for doing nothing? It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t remember what he said or did. I told you not to go up to him, didn’t I?” You whine, “It was by pure accident, I couldn’t help it. I’m just so aggravated by it all. He deserved it. I hope he thinks on it.”

“Girl, I have never seen someone hold a grudge for as long as you have.” Ryujin sighs rubbing her forehead. She continues, “I think someone who referred to you as a ‘disgusting peasant’ isn’t quite the person you want around you.” You clutch her hands in desperation, “Ryujin,I know this may seem maddening to you, seriously he’s not like that. I just know deep deep down he would never say something like that after the time we spent.” Your heart aches terribly.

Ryujin squeezes your hands back in an comforting manner and gives you a warm smile as she says, “I have never wanted to punch you the face more than now.” You’re floored by her answer and splutter, “What?” “Can’t believe you are that lovestruck for a man. A man? You got a man making you feel this upset, the audacity. If he weren’t the prince I would have knocked his jaw off its hinges.” She angrily mumbles out. Wide eyed you stammer, “Damn, remind me not to piss you off.” She hums, “Well, I wouldn’t punch you. Maybe just a delicate reality checking chokeslam.” “Great, thanks,” you sarcastically respond. “What I’m trying to say here is, he’s not worth it. Think about it, he’s probably been ignoring your presence, he’s made no attempt himself to get back in contact with you, so why the fuck should you give that energy back?”

You consider Ryujin’s words. She made good points but for some reason your heart wasn’t happy to hear them out. You truly did believe that something went awry. Even when you met Soobin yesterday, he seemed just like did back then. Still adorably shy, endearingly kind, not a fan of confrontation, he could have had you on the floor begging for forgiveness for the way you spoke to him…yet he didn’t. You didn’t understand whether he was pretending not to know you for both your sake’s or indeed you were just a thing of the past, nothing significant enough to remember. You peer down at your necklace and fiddle with the silver ring attached whilst frowning. ‘Oh, Soobin…’

“Well y/n, I have to be going, my shift starts in five minutes. Don’t overwork yourself, the sun’s coming out, don’t faint on me, you got that? Stay in the shade during noon.” You murmur smiling, “Got it.” Ryujin gives you a genuinely caring smile before she gives you a flurrying wave and walks off down the path leaving you back amongst the flowers. Back to gardening you suppose, not that you were complaining. You loved it ever so much.

The sun did indeed come out to say hello as by midday the temperature becomes atrocious and there is a sweltering heat blazing down upon you. You believe you could have cooked an entire buffet using your head as a stove. You peer around for some shade that wasn’t already occupied by the other palace staff.

Wiping the sweat off your brow you let out an aggravated sigh, “Fuck, this fucking sun, fuck’s sake. I’m so fucking hot I hate it here.” Irritation seeps into you. “O-Oh my.” A soft yet deep voice stammers out. You freeze in your spot.

You really hope that wasn’t another member of staff or even worse- “Uhm, hello there. I…I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Though it appears it isn’t a great time.” You get slammed in the face with a ton, no; plural, tons of embarrassment. You got caught having a sailor’s mouth in front of the prince himself. Not even soap could help you rinse your mouth neither could the gods above save you from this humiliating experience.

“I can ask an attendant to get you some water?” He awkwardly asks noticing you still haven’t turned around. You grit out, “No. no it’s fine. Really.” The boiling sun didn’t make your anger any less intense. You were already pissed off as is. Now you had to deal with this.

‘Calm down. Calm yourself. Your better than this. He came to find you. Not the other way round. Be nice.’ You think to yourself almost repeating it like a mantra. You swiftly turn around and try to paint a smile on your face though you didn’t think you were succeeding in the exercise considering the man in front of you pales. Perhaps your eyes were a little too intense. Though it was ever so slightly amusing you could get to see the prince in this position though. Not that you’d ever say this aloud.

“What is it your majesty?” You ask genuinely finding yourself curious before you halt seeing a very familiar book in his hands. Oh! You had forgotten your book, you had meant to check it out the other day. You knew you wanted to try going back to try and look for it again but you couldn’t honestly be bothered. Yet now Soobin had it in his hands.

He outstretches his arm appearing to give you the book and you peer at him with a raised brow, “For me? What about signing it out?” “I signed it out under my name. Is that alright? I can’t sign for another person on their behalf; it’s the rules there.” He explains looking slightly flustered as your fingers brush against each other. His hand felt so incredibly soft. Not only that his hands were huge, they would engulf your hands in a heartbeat.

You clear your throat becoming flustered and quickly keeping the book against your chest, “Uh, no…that’s okay.” There’s an awkward silence before you quietly mumble out, “Thank you, your majesty.”

Your eyes peer observing him as he lets out a nod of affirmation. His jet black locks of hair sharply cut with a few strands sprawled across his forehead here and there. It was in sleek contrast to his white princely attire made of god knows what expensive fabric (probably costing equivalent to three years worth of your rent alone). The elegant tassels on his shoulder sway and jump in the breeze. The intricacy of his outfit had you floored not to mention, he made the outfit look gorgeous. He really did grow up from that cute, clumsy kid to this gorgeous man with the sharpest eyes and softest lips. “Did I do something wrong again? You’re really staring a lot.”

Oh fuck, you made it obvious. You made yourself seem like an uncivilised buffoon in comparison to his sophisticated and elite mannerisms and speech. You frown, “No, no sorry. I…I was lost in thought. Thank you again for the book.”

Maybe Ryujin was right, maybe it was better to leave the past behind. He gave you your book, why should you bother trying to remind him. Maybe he just genuinely forgot. Not that you could ever be seen together regardless, look at your measly position and his. Not a chance!

“I’ll be leaving your majesty, have a good day. Many thanks.” You let out a courteous bow before stepping away. He suddenly steps forward in a rush blocking you from walking away, “W-Wait-! I wanted to talk. Talk more I mean. Please?” His voice heightens at the end waiting for your response and it cruelly reminded you of the way he was when he was younger. “Is it important?” You mumble. Soobin stammers, “I…I think? Maybe. Could you hear me out? We can find some shade too. So you’re not so hot and irritable either.” Embarrassment from earlier hits you again, “Okay, thanks, your majesty.”

Soobin peers around seeing that most of the spots are occupied and he finally points towards the hedge maze. “In the maze there’s a gazebo in the centre of it; we can talk there.” You deadpan, “You know considering how much your family taxes the entirety of the nation im surprised you haven’t installed enough benches here of any form of actual shade with that money.” Soobin awkwardly stands in silence before murmuring, “…well you’re not wrong.” You sigh, “Right lets just go, your majesty.”

A flustered Soobin leads the way and you both begin to walk through the maze to which he seems to know like back of his hand. Soobin encourages himself to walk out of his shell by starting conversation as the agonising silence between them was painful. “Uhm, so have you been in this maze?” “Yeah.” You respond nonchalantly. You weren’t trimming these hedges like a maniac for nothing. “Oh.” He murmurs. You couldn’t help but smile, “You feel awkward don’t you?” He mumbles embarrassed, “I just don’t think you like me very much…I don’t know how to hold a conversation with someone who doesn’t like me. Most people…uh tend to like me.”

Well yeah, you’re the prince.

Oh curse your heart for battering against your rib cage erratically. The way his eyes glisten in concern and how he lets out a nervous chuckle. He was like a bunny who was let out to roam free on a field for the first time. How adorable. Wait no. Stay focused! You mumble, “You were the one who said you wanted to talk in the first place.” Soobin nods, “Well yes, I did say that. It’s basically about yesterday.”

You sigh, “You apologised, I apologised isn’t it over?” Soobin stammers, “Not about you falling yesterday.” Too late for that you think. You could snort to your own jokes but you’d look like a psychopath laughing to yourself out of nowhere so you refrain. “I meant, I think we have a past together. You know me more than our encounter yesterday.” “I mistook you for someone.” You blurt out before you could even clearly think. What was wrong with you?

Soobin’s eyes deflate slightly, “I don’t think that’s the case. I feel you definitely knew who you were talking to.” The centre of the maze arrives past the several lefts, rights, twists and turns and you both look in awe at the glass gazebo structure specifically used for the noble to dine under whilst enjoying the nature. It wasn’t for use of staff but hey, if anyone caught you, you’d blame Soobin. It was his idea to sit here after all.

You clear your throat, “No really, I think I misunderstood.” Soobin pulls out the chair and it takes you a minute that he’s pulling the chair out for you to sit on. You splutter, “Oh-! Oh sorry.” He lets out a charming smile shaking his head as he then proceeds to seat himself opposite to you. He really was a gentleman, much to your dismay. You weren’t supposed to be swayed like this.

You get a grip on yourself. Just because he was your childhood friend/crush (which he doesn’t seem to know or is knowingly choose to ignore) you had to remain firm. He was the one who just dropped you out of nowhere and insulted you. You look down at your necklace feeling a heaviness in your heart. Maybe it was a bad idea to wear it at all, but you couldn’t let go.

“You said I fell, I remember as a child having a severe concussion. Is this what you were referring to?” He asks surprisingly more direct than you thought he could get. Your eyes narrow as you snarkily reply, “So you do remember.” Soobin mumbles, “Well you were the one just saying you mistook-“ You interrupt slightly feeling stupid, “Ah, ah, no. What I meant is I think we’re BOTH misunderstanding things here.” “Oh,” Soobin dryly responds. Another awkward silence.

You continue awkwardly, “Uhm, well, can you be honest with me? Do you really not remember me or..do you not want to? I just feel like there’s no way you could have forgotten me. I definitely haven’t forgotten you.” Soobin remains silent for a few moments as he frowns, “I’m sorry, I genuinely don’t know. My brain begins to hurt when I think about you because I know your face but…not your name or anything else. I really don’t mean it on purpose.”

Your heart aches with every beat becoming painful. Soobin asks, “Were you someone from my childhood, I don’t think I can remember anything from before the age of six of seven though. It’s all blurry.”

You decide it’s best to tell him everything then and there. You find that he genuinely doesn’t remember what happened. Now what’s gotten you worried is that maybe that fall all those years ago, took away his and yours most happiest memories. Guilt strikes you as you thought he chose not to remember you but from how he’s acting, it appears there’s been some miscommunication or perhaps even foul play here. You felt sorry for giving him unnecessary dislike, you could honestly never hate him. Because unfortunately for you, your unrequited feelings from the age of 13 were stronger than ever.

You murmur, “Soobin, I think you have a gap in your memory. It’s probably because of the severe concussion you had. May I remind you of who I am and what our relationship was?”

Soobin’s brows furrow; his head was honestly pounding at this point. He was trying, he really was, desperately trying to remember you. Trying to cling onto barely blurry images of past memories. Whilst not successful he knew there was something of you in his mind, and the way thinking of you. He knew he felt something for you.

The way his heart jumped and fluttered in his chest, the his chest felt a blossom of warmth. How he’d shiver when your eyes met his. How he felt the urge to keep smiling around you despite you being rather grumpy or sarcastic at times. It was refreshing in fact that you weren’t catering your behaviour, acting all cordial around because of his status. He liked it. The fuzzy memories made him feel warm inside.

Soobin peers at you with the most warm and gentle gaze making your heart race. “Please tell your name. Tell me what happened. Tell me why you make me feel as though I’ve been missing something so incredibly important to me. You’re a mystery that feels nostalgic to me.” You felt like you could burst into tears any second. You sadly smile back at him, “Listen up then. We have a lot to cover.” He nods covering one hand atop another and he leans forwards in interest, “Mhm?”

“Firstly my name is…”

[7 years ago]

“Y/n! Y/n! Come on, come on! Our usual spot!” A soft voice shouts. Your head turns seeing the young boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. He is dressed in a white frilled shirt tucked in nicely into his black tailored trousers with socks and expensive leather boots. The little prince looks simply adorable causing a rupture of cooing from people who passed by.

You peer down at your cotton gown your mother had bought for you. It may not be as nice quality of Soobin’s satin shirt, nonetheless it was very comfy and that’s all that matters to you. You were very happy to show off your new dress that your mother had bought you for your 13th birthday earlier this month. It was a lovely peach coloured gown complete with white lacy frills. You call out running after him, “Coming! Wait for me you silly prince!”

Your father was a florist down in the kingdom below running a family owned shop whilst your mother worked as gardener here in the palace gardens where she would often take you to work with her when you didn’t have school to attend. You don’t quite know how you made friends with the prince, perhaps him sitting solemnly on the bench one day with a book accompanied with a frown made you feel like he needed someone. If it wasn’t anyone else, why couldn’t it be you?

Though he was overwhelmed by your noisy and rather different etiquette to his, he found himself enjoying you company, albeit slowly. You wanted to bring him out of his shell, and you were slowly realising he was becoming more confident and happier, the closer you got over the last few months. Your best friend. Your entire world.

He also thought of you the same way; his best friend. His source of happiness from the world far away from his fingertips. You were the hand that opened his bird cage and set him free to enjoy things, though secretly without his parents knowing, you gave him confidence to have fun, to forget all the stuffy etiquette and manners for awhile to genuinely act like a teen should. Soobin couldn’t help but want to see you all the time, to be with you all the time.

So that’s what you did, you spent any moments of free time hanging out together. You begged your mother to take you with her after speed running through homework and chores. Soobin similarly hurried his things, wove between the suspicions of his parents wondering why he always loved going to the gardens a little too much. You were his escape, he was yours from a life that had too many limitations.

“Your hands are so small,” he wonders in awe. His gentle hands grip yours and you feel your heart fluttering for some odd reason. You both sit behind the largest tree in the garden. The trunk itself is wide enough to engulf you both and hide you from unnecessarily nosy prying eyes. You huff, “Well, your hands are huge. One punch and you would send someone to space.”

The young prince stares bewildered at you as you try to contain your laugh. His heart jumps a bit and he can’t help but smile widely; almost goofily at the comment.

“You’re strange you know that?” He mumbles still holding your hand. You glare, “You’re stranger.” Soobin scoffs, “This is getting nowhere, anyway this is your birthday gift.” He shoves his hand in his pocket and takes something out; it appears to be small as he engulfs it in his hand not wanting you to see yet.

You raise a brow, “It’s not my birthday.” Soobin deadpans and whispers, “it was two weeks ago I know. It’s just really late, I’m sorry about that. I worked really hard to get this. If my parents found out, it would be really bad!”

You pout slightly worried, “You didn’t do anything stupid did you? I don’t want you to get in trouble. I don’t want you to get me anything really.” Soobin rolls his eyes unfolding your hand and shoving it into your hand and proceeding to curl your fingers back over it. You feel the sizzlingly cool sensation of cold metal spread across the middle of your palm. It was smooth but tiny.

You unfold your hand revealing a beautiful silver ring. There was a single little oval shaped pink stone in the middle. He mumbles, “It’s pink quartz, by the way.”

It felt a little heavy, it felt rather real silver to you. You pale, “You didn’t steal this or something right?” Soobin glares, “You think so lowly of a prince? Mind I remind you how much money I have?”You correct him, “Your parents have, you mean.” He huffs crossing his arms; a cute pout weighs on his lips, “Whatever, do you like it or not?”

You release a little giggle. If you could you’d be screaming in joy to the stars. You got gifted a ring; your first ever ring. You couldn’t dream of affording a real silver ring. You coyly answer, “Mmm, it’s pretty and all, but the colour of the stone…you know I don’t like pink as much as I do purple.” Truthfully you were overjoyed whatever colour it was, all that mattered was it was from Choi Soobin. A little teasing couldn’t hurt.

Soobin groans, “You have even higher standards than me and you’re not even a princess!” You giggle peering at him and his eyes widen as you pull him in for a tight hug. His cheeks tint as pink as the blossoms in the trees around you. Your head rests on his chest to your amusement where you could hear his heart pounding. Not that you could laugh, yours was too.

You murmur feeling euphoric, “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love it so much. It’s so, so pretty.” Soobin awkwardly stumbles as he then timidly wraps his arms back around you and hugs you back. His head rests on your shoulder. He murmurs, “I’m glad you like it. You should probably wear it before you lose it though.”

You let him go before going to put on the ring and he suddenly takes your hand making your heart reach your throat. “May I?”

Your eyes widen and for the first time in awhile you’ve become stunned silent. He takes the ring and gently slides it on your finger. It’s a bit loose but you didn’t mind. He frowns, “I didn’t really know your ring size but from the pre-sets I chose the second smallest. I’m sorry.”

You had the urge to hug him again but you hold yourself back and shake your head with a smile, “It’s okay. It’s tight enough that it won’t fall off, that’s good enough for me.”

Curiosity taps your mind as you ask, “How did you get this by the way without your parents knowing? Your parents don’t like me right? They always tell us not to hang out together.” Soobin seems to let a reaction mixed between embarrassment and guilt. He mumbles, “Well I went to the jewellers in the palace and I asked them to create a ring. They asked why my parents weren’t here and I said I just wanted one for myself and that I got permission to do so.” You raise a brow, “Right…”

“But the jeweller didn’t believe me and said he was going to ask my father. So I just pretended to start crying on the spot and threatened to get him fired.”

You begin to let out one of the most chaotic laughs your body could release; you never expected this of the perfect prince soobin who was known for his immaculately sensible behaviour. Soobin whines, “Don’t laugh at me! I did all this for you!”

“Sorry, sorry continue,” you chuckle out.

Soobin resumes, “well anyway, the jeweller panicked and asked to negotiate and he agreed. As for payment I couldn’t give him money otherwise the accountants in our palace would know and let my parents know. So I…”

You drawl out, “…Soobin? What did you give him?” He peers down at his right hand and your eyes widen seeing that one of his rings were missing.

You screech quietly, “You idiot! You absolute idiot! You told me that was gold! What is wrong with you! I didn’t need you to exchange your ring to get me one! Imagine how much trouble you’ll get into!” You felt like crying he had done this all for you.

You’re about to pull the ring off and take him back to the jewellers to exchange it back somehow but he stops you by grabbing your wrist. Soobin smiles at you endearingly, “Don’t worry, y/n. Really, to see your reaction, it was worth it.”

“What if you get into trouble?” Your voice ends up cracking unintentionally. Soobin hums with a sigh, “Don’t worry I told my mother whilst I was playing in the garden myself it dropped off and I looked everywhere for it. She yelled at me a lot, really used a lot of lovely sentences, but it’s okay. Nothing that I’m not used to. A single ring barely makes a dent in our collection.”

You were really trying to hold in your tears. You whimper, “You got yelled at because you got me this.” He places a tender hand on your upper arm, “You mean a lot to me, and I wanted to give you a gift that was worthy for a prince to give.”

“You being with me is enough, prince or not, Soobin,” you mumble out. Soobin’s eyes glaze over, it felt like words he wanted to hear from you, no needed to hear from you.

You didn’t just like him because he was a prince but you liked him, hung out with him because you enjoyed being with him, his personality. You didn’t find him boring or stuck up in any sort. That meant an incredibly large amount to him, something no matter how much power or money he had, it could never replace.

His cheeks burn brightly and his heart flutters as though a butterfly was fluttering chaotically in the cage of his ribs. Soobin likes you.

More than a friend.

Though you didn’t quite know it at the time, you did too. You really liked him.

Your eyes both peer softly at each other and you let out a breathless laugh. Soobin smiles warmly, “For once you’re not being mean to me.”

You lightly smack his arm, “Only for now. Plus, I’m impressed.” He raises a brow, “Why?”

You mischievously grin, “I didn’t know the prince could be a little schemer. Manipulating the poor jeweller like that.” Soobin whines dragging his hands down his face, “Oh god, you’re not going to let that go ever are you.”

“Nope.” You giggle out.

“Soobin! Soobin! It’s time for your fitting young man! Where are you?” A voice bellows out. Soobin huffs, “Oh no, I think that’s my tailor. I have to get my suit fitted, my mother is going to be there. She’ll ask too many questions again. We’ve only hung out for half an hour so far.”

Your brain whirs thinking of something, anything to prolong your time with him. You hear a bird chirp above you in the branches and your lightbulb moment appears. You tap his shoulder, “I have an idea, follow me.” He looks at you confused and slightly panicked as you begin to hoist yourself up the bark of the tree trunk. It’s kind of prickly but you manage up the first branch where you wave down and hiss, “Hurry up if you don’t want to get caught!”

Soobin nervously peers around and then back up at you frantically waving from the lowest branch.

“Soobin? Where are you young man? You better not be playing with that peasant girl again!”

Soobin sighs before beginning to climb up the tree getting his pristine white satin shirt dirty with the bits and pieces of dirt and bark. You continue to climb up higher and higher to get out of everyone’s line of sight; you were aiming for the third to last branch branch near the top so no one could spot you two. If this worked out, you’d move your hangout spot here instead!

“Keep going Soobin! We got this!” You pant out, “Slow and steady!” You reach the branch successfully and as you thought this was a thick branch and didn’t wobble around as much as the others one below. You peer down seeing Soobin struggling. It wasn’t much of a surprise considering you don’t think the prince spent much of his time during early childhood outside or even climbing anything in fact whilst it was the opposite for you.

You reach your hand out from the study branch; it was way high up; the wind was much stronger up her and the tree itself was swaying rather harshly making Soobin panic more. “I don’t think t-this is a good idea y/n-!” You scoff, “Oh come on, one more branch, hold my hand and you’ll be up here! Don’t be a scaredy cat! Trust me!”

Soobin nods and reaches his hand out and leans forward to grab your hand. Just before his fingers brush against yours you hear a deafening crack and snap. Before you know it, Soobin who was less than a metre away from was now descending. The sight that would never leave your mind.

Soobin was falling. Soobin falling fast. You let out the loudest scream you’ve ever heard and could physically produce. A sickening crunch resounds out as his body slams into the ground below, where you both were just sat mere minutes ago.

You hurriedly scramble down; tears streaming down your face as though a dam had broken. You scream, “Soobin! Oh my god, Soobin!” With how fast you skidded down the tree, your hands, knees and elbows were cut up and torn from the rough texture of the bark; but you didn’t care.

Nearby staff witnessed the young prince falling and slamming into the ground as they all rush around him. You begin to wail loudly as you see a pool of blood soak into the grass below and some of his limbs in unangled positions. He can’t be dead! He can’t be!

One of the maids place their heads against his chest and peer down at his face. “His heart is beating, he’s breathing.”

A collective sigh is heard. Soobin’s battered body writhes as he continues to bleed heavily from his head. He rasps out, “H-Hurts…sp-spinning…hurts…”

“The prince has sustained a severe head injury! Get him to medical immediately! Carry him! Carry him! Go, go, go!”

You stand there as dread fills you and you get pushed around as everyone follows where Soobin is getting transported to. You lifelessly stand there with a dead stare. This was all your fault. He got severely injured because of your selfishness.

Why? How long was it going to last anyway? His parents never liked you. Why did you both try to hard?

Now you ruined everything. You deserved it. He didn’t. ‘It should have been me,’. You think over and over.

You don’t realise what’s happening as one of the adults come up to you with their arm raised. A stinging sensation stirs in your cheek and your face is whipped to the left. You had just gotten slapped.

“You filthy wretched girl. It is your fault, how many times must you get reprimanded to not spend your time with the prince and now look what’s happened! Your foolish behaviour has now endangered the prince. If you were over eighteen you’d have been jailed! Jailed, I tell you! You disgusting child, get out of our sights. Filthy peasant, just wait till their majesties find out whose responsible!”

He continues blabbering and spitting insults at you and you find yourself tuning him out as the world become blurry as your tears fill your sight. You have nothing to say.

You knew nothing good in life would last. This was just another testament to that. Guilt couldn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.

Two days pass and Soobin’s condition worsened as he reached the medical room and he had been unconscious for hours upon hours. He had suffered intense over bleeding and luckily he didn’t break his skull but there was a nasty cut where part of his scalp had split.

Eventually the young prince wakes up albeit in incredible pain and drifts in and out of consciousness. His mother sits beside him concerned but also infuriated. “How could you be so foolish to think you could climb up a tree that height safely? I knew that girl was bad news from the start, that’s why I told you to stick to your school friends! This is why I don’t let you interact with the commoner-“

“…huh? What tree? I…climbed up a tree?” Soobin croaked out with a killing headache. Soobin’s mother narrows her eyes, “Don’t play dumb young man.”

Soobin whines, “I don’t get anything, why am I here? Why do you keep going on about a girl? What girl?”

The mother sits up straight and places a plastic smile on her face, “My dear, rest up. I’m just worried about you. I’m a delirious that’s all, don’t worry about a thing. Do you remember what happened?”

Soobin groans, “It hurts to try and remember. I just remember being on the ground surrounded by people.”

“Sweetheart, well, I’ll explain everything later. For now your priority is to rest okay? Mother will be right here beside you. Rest up.” She hums pleasantly.

The sudden mood switch takes Soobin off guard, “But-“ She grits out, “I said. Rest. Up. Talking will do you no good towards recovery.” He goes silent.

Days pass, your own mother and father were getting a dreadful earful from the staff of the palace and unfortunately from the king himself. Though luckily due to it being an accident, no punishments were given. Though unfortunately, your mother was humiliated beyond compare.

“Stupid girl, I have told you countless times not to hangout with the prince and now look what’s happened!” Your mother decided she was going to find another job elsewhere; she couldn’t handle the shame. You felt your life getting torn apart.

You stand outside the medical room; you wanted to apologise one last time before you left and couldn’t come back without your mother tearing you apart.

“You wretch, what are you doing here? To hurt my son even more?” You pale as you see the queen herself step out of the room with vicious eyes. “What have your filthy parents taught you? Leave him alone.”

You feel angered at the insults and you cry out, “I wanted to apologise, that’s all!”

“Take you and your is useless apology and get out of my sight, child!” She screeches. You begin to weep in front of her. You help seeing Soobin in the room through the doorway behind her, “Soobin, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Soobin who peers at all of this from his bed groans, “Mother, what’s going on? Who is she?”

Who is she?

Who were you?

The queen hums, “No one dear, some peasant child has got you mistaken for someone else it seems.”

You weep, “Soobin no! You know who I am! I’m sorry if I’ve upset you!” You get shoved away and tumble to the floor pathetically. “Leave my son alone.”

Soobin groans in irritation as the pounding in head exponentially gets more painful. Why did you make his head ache worse? He snaps, “Just leave us alone, I’m in already enough pain as is! Go away!”

You sit there pathetically. The queen glares, “You heard what he said, get out. Or I’ll get your mother to escort you out herself. All he thinks of you is a pitiful peasant. He gave you some of his free time out of pity. He doesn’t want to play with you anymore. That’s all.”

You just wanted the world to devour you whole and make you never see the light of day again.

<><><><>

“It’s not your fault.” Your tear filled eyes peer back at Soobin who appears to have also shed a few tears. You sniffle out, “Don’t need to make me feel better. I shouldn’t have suggested it. You took such a big fall, I ruined what we had. Now I feel even more shit, thinking that you played with me out of pity or that you were ignoring me this entire time.”

You inhale deeply as tears come out. Years worth of bottled up emotion come bubbling out like boiling water. “It’s my fault, even now. Me misunderstanding you. Soobin, you deserve someone better truly. It was my mistake to come up to you yesterday and have to remind you of all this. God…I regret everything.”

Soobin gets up and sits in the chair beside you placing a tentative hand on your upper arm. “Hey, hey. Breathe. Breathe.”

His tone was calming, soothing even. Him being next to you felt all too familiar. Yet you both were a lot more grown up.

“I… after my mother left here, I was told to stay at home more often. Just school home and to just stick with my friends at school. I ended up working with my father at the florists before the salary wasn’t good enough. Business was slow. My mother was increasingly becoming sick with age. So I went back to the palace to apply to become a gardener around a year ago. Luckily the staff since the incident had changed, except a few recognising me, most people didn’t.”

You bitterly laugh, “Gardening is all I knew how to do. My mother drilled it into me from a young age. So h-here I am, doing what she did all those years ago.”

Soobin murmurs, “Do you not like gardening?”

You shake your head with a soft smile, “I do, I love it actually. Plants give me such peace, they’re beautiful to look at, to talk to, to be with.”

Soobin comforts you, “That’s beautiful to think like that. Nature is a gift. You have a beautiful mindset.” You shrug, “I guess. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. Plus the palace pays well. Okay, not well, but better.”

Soobin frowns his heart aches. His mind was a complete frazzled mess. Some of the blurry memories become clearer and clearer with some snapshots of memories with you becoming more noticeable as though a camera lens beginning to focus on its subject.

His eyes pinpoint to the necklace on your neck. The smooth silver chain contains a hanging loop and that loop indeed looks like the ring you described to him. He murmurs, “Is that the ring?”

You bashfully smile through your tears, “It’s stupid isn’t it, still keeping it with me? You must think I have such abandonment issues.”

Soobin mumbles, “No, no I think…it’s rather sweet. It’s really cute actually.”

Your heart palpitates seeing his lips bloom into a bright smile with his cheeks glowing a faint pink. He shakes his head to get some strands out of the way of his eyes.

You hum fiddling with the ring, “It’s too small for me now, so I decided to loop it onto a plain silver necklace I bought later on like a charm of sorts.”

“I’m really happy you like it.” He smiles blissfully.

You chuckle, “You don’t remember giving it to me, but thanks.” He lets out a melodic laugh which sound heavenly to your ears. Over the years that soft pitched voice you once loved, had become more addictive with a low timbre and husk yet still with that soft edge to it. Listening to his voice felt like lying on the softest of velvets.

Soobin responds, “It’s just nice to see you smile, I can tell it makes you very happy.”

You could tell, dreadfully you could tell chatting with him now, seeing how he’s grown into this beautifully handsome man who was articulate in his feelings, endearingly shy, you were falling even harder than ever. You were scared that he’d be ripped out of your grasp once again. That you’d mess it up all.

After all, there’s no way he sees you like that now. There’s no way his parents will allow you both to be together, maybe even see each other. It was tragic.

You painfully get up; your legs felt a little shaky from all the pent up emotion. You miserably smile, “Well I should get back to work, otherwise people will notice I’ve been gone for too long. It’s probably not a good idea if we’re seen together you know. I’m glad I got to remind you of the past, and I hope that these brief memories do mean something to you. I’ll see you around, your majesty.”

You really feel like sobbing right now. You wanted to collapse into the grass and weep for hours. What did you hope to achieve by seeing him again? Telling him all this? For him to suddenly remember and just poof! Go back to the way it was?

You begin to walk your way; you decide not to turn back over your shoulder. You don’t think you could handle the sight of him watching you walk ahead.

You begin to step forward but you hear the rapid crunching of grass and you let out a quiet gasp as you feel a large hand envelop your wrist. You peer around seeing Soobin looking concerned, brows furrowed, “Who told you that I didn’t want to see you again?”

His tone held a lot more conviction than you expected. You stammer out wide-eyed, “…what?” Soobin loosens just grip on your wrist, “You were talking like we were never going to see or talk to each other again.”

You squeak out, “…are we…not?”

Soobin sighs with his eyes twinkling, slightly reddened from the tears he let out, “Accidents happen, we were younger, we were teens. I am still alive right? You didn’t push me off the tree, I fell by pure chance.”

You remain silence. “Yeah but if I didn’t climb up the tree fir-“

“Stop.” His soft yet commanding tone cuts through your sentence. “I don’t hate you for it, as I said, it was an accident. What if the same thing had happened the other way around? You had fallen instead, and I had climbed up the tree first?”

You peer away, tears once again forming in your eyes. He was so forgiving, you didn’t know whether you deserved it.

His eyes darken, “I’m more upset about what happened afterwards. Why no one told me about you, about your whereabouts. Hid you from me. Erased you from my life. When you were the only thing in my childhood keeping me sane.” Your eyes glimmer and you break down into tears.

Soobin frowns, “Oh im sorry, for making you cry.”

You sniffle out, “No, it’s not…I…” you can barely speak. Soobin tentatively walks closer and your eyes widen as he pulls you in for a hug. His arms wrap around you and your face lies on his chest. You weep even more; you hadn’t hugged him since that day; now here he was hugging you. You feel his hand cup the back of your head in a tender grip. “You are back and that’s all that matters, y/n.”

Your fingers tightly grip his overcoat as he holds you for a few moments before releasing you. You brokenly look at him, “I’ve missed you…so, so much.”

Soobin gently smiles, “I may not have remembered everything we’ve experienced but I know that I am overjoyed to see you again. It’s slowly coming back to me.”

You murmur, “Your parents won’t be happy to see us again. Your father has seen me once in the gardens and gave me the dirtiest look possible. I don’t even want to think about your mother.”

You remember Soobin’s relationship with his parents was rather distanced and cold, even cruel at times. He was treated as a mere heir that’s it. The only affection he got was either fake or from other people.

Soobin’s eyes sharpen, “It appears that my parents didn’t want us to hang out with each other after the incident. From what you’ve told me, they never liked us being near each other.” You nod, “I…yeah. I’m not a noble woman Soobin, so, I suppose that’s why.”

Soobin’s eyes twinkle, “Your status doesn’t matter to me.” Your heart flurries in your chest. “I’ve found my long lost best friend, my home.” You felt warm inside. Complete even.

Your feelings maybe be unrequited but you were happy to have him by your side once again. You’d rather that than anything else. Soobin murmurs, “I suggest you get back to work…I’m going to take care of things.” You can see the hurt and betrayal lingering in his eyes.

“Where are you going?”

He replies coldly, “I’m going to talk to my parents.” You stand there dumbfounded as he walks off. In all your life you knew him, you knew he was absolutely terrified of his parents wrath. He listened to every minute detail, every lecture, every order they demanded. To become the picture perfect prince. There was no way in hell, he was going to talk back to them.

Yet he walks off.

<><><><><

“What is wrong with you, dear? Honestly chin up. We mustn’t be seen with solemn faces.” His mother reprimands clearly already annoyed with Soobin interrupting her discussion with the king.

Soobin’s hands and legs tremble seeing both their unimpressed faces. He’s never had a positive experience with these two. Any opinions, any thoughts he’s ever wanted to share were always instantly shut down. Even a hint of sadness, guilt practically any negative emotion apart from vanity or confidence just made him seem weak in their eyes.

He knew his parents weren’t the best of rulers. Despite all this, the people adored him, hoped for him to be better than they were. Expectation that felt like he was going to be thrown into the ocean with a stone anklet where he’d sink and sink.

“Out with it, boy!” His father impatiently snaps. Soobin flinches slightly before murmuring, “I want to talk about my concussion. When I was around fourteen?”

His mother’s glare darkens and she mutters, “Why now? You’re fine.” Soobin’s eyes sharpen and his fists clench, “You lied to me.”

“Watch your tone, I did no such thing.”

“You’re lying again.” Soobin scoffs. He was fed up of it all.

His father snarls, “What is wrong with you?” Soobin bitterly mumbles (trying to keep his shaking to a minimum and trying to put on a mediocrely brave face), “Y/n. You hid her from me. You took advantage of my fall, my concussion.”

“It was minor amnesia, how could you blame us?” His mother yells. Soobin snaps with his eyes watering, “No it wasn’t you, told me that I fell down the tree myself! Even though I had felt like something was missing or off about that memory, you had always brushed me off! You manipulated me!”

His parents look unaffected by his outcry and his father merely scoffs, “Don’t tell me you saw that wretched girl?”

Soobin stammers, “What if I did?”

His mother snaps at his father, “I knew we should have fired her as soon as I spotted her around the palace. I told you!”

Soobin watches just appalled by the nature of his sorry excuse of what he called parents. How could he share a bloodline with such horrid people?

His father barks back, “Well, she’ll be gone for now, that’s for sure. I’ll get her fired immediately.”

Anger swirls inside Soobin and he shouts stepping forward, “Don’t touch her. You won’t do anything.”

“How so? Are you the king?” His father demeans. His mother looks condescendingly at him, “Did she tell you her pathetic sob story is that why you’re like this? Come now, if you wanted more friends, you could have just gone out more like i told you.”

Soobin hisses, “You took her from me once, I’m not letting it happen again.“

His mother rolls her eyes letting out an exasperated sigh, “You sound a like fool in love, I knew I should have separated you two the moment you both met back then.”

Soobin begins to crack through his brave exterior and he stammers with rage filling him, “She was my best friend. You erased her from my life like she was nothing.”

“She is nothing. You are the prince, heir to the throne of this nation. You cannot be involved with mere peasants like her.”

Soobin glares with a ferocity that was foreign to his parents, “Don’t call her that.”

The father mockingly chuckles, “I think the boy has gone and fallen for her.” Soobin splutters as emotion fills him, “No-! I just, she’s my best friend how could I not defend-“

“It is indeed tough, you won’t be seeing her again after today. Deal with it young man. Don’t disobey again. Lets finish this useless discussion and go off do something useful.” His father sharply cuts in. Soobin’s mother hums unimpressed, “If I see you with her again. There will be large consequences you hear me?”

Soobin’s eyes swirl in a dark shade making his umber irises seem murky. He had enough of everyone. He sharply snaps, “If you want an heir to the throne I suggest you mind your actions. I won’t hesitate to run off.”

His parents blood runs cold. He would never right? Is he threatening to run away?

“Soobin!” His mother screams. Soobin coldly peers at them, “I don’t care about my position anymore. You made me hate everything about it. Get her fired, and you’ll never see me in this palace again.”

His heart was pounding at a rate he’d never felt; he felt almost light headed. He’d never talked back to his parents like this; it kind of felt refreshing. Empowering even to see them stunned to silence.

“Son, let’s talk about this.”

“I have nothing to say.” Soobin slices coldly.

“Dear, you know we’re doing this for your own good, right? It’s just not right you know? What would other nobles think if they saw you associating with someone like her? I can get you a lovely prince, princess or duke or duchess to befriend instead-“

Soobin responds harshly, “I don’t want anyone. I want her.” He turns around and mutters, “think wisely whether you want your heir to your kingdom. All I ask is for one thing.”

His parents remain silently seething with anger as he slams the door closed.

Tears run down his cheeks as he walks back towards his chambers. He did it, he talked back to his parents. For the first time ever, he felt accomplished. He just hoped he hadn’t pushed them over the edge. He collapses onto his bed; he only hoped for the best.

<><><><><

Ryujin shakes her head, “See, I’m trying to process all this still. It’s been what, two days? He’s not come to see you. Are you sure about this?”

You frown, “I’m scared his parents did something. They’re rather strict you know? What if they threatened him?”

Ryujin rubs your back reassuringly, “You know, he sounds like a good guy. If you met again after all this, I feel like fate has something in store for you guys. I mean it.”

You smile at her and she gives you her characteristic smile with her dimples almost looking like whiskers. You loved it.

“Thanks, Ryujin.” She hums, “Either way, we gotta move on with life. Regardless of the outcome.” She points at your necklace, “Plus you got that pretty ring, always connected and all that.”

You chuckle, “Thanks I guess.”

She raises a brow, “You know, it’s pink quartz you told me right? I know gemstones have meanings, did he tell you why he picked this ring?”

You try to think back and your realise he never did.

“You know what it means?” You ask. She snorts, “No, I was just thinking. Pretty cute stone though. Looks romantic and shit.”

You shake your head with a goofy smile, “Yeah, I don’t think he felt the same about me as I did for him.” Ryujin teasingly smiles, “You never know, not like you asked him. He really could be your Prince Charming.”

“Very funny, but no. Even if he did, it’s obviously pointless after forgetting me.”

She winks, “Always can have another go? Leave him star struck with your fairytale-esque beauty!” You groan, “I hate you.”

She laughs, “What?”

“Hey there.” A soft tone interrupts both your chaotic chatter and you swear you could see the stars with the way your head spins. There stands Soobin surrounded with two guards. He carried with him a beautiful smile on his face; dressed in a cream satin shirt and black slacks. His black wavy locks bounce gently in the breeze and his earrings twinkle under the sunlight. He simply looked ethereally angelic.

Soobin bows courteously towards the both of you and Ryujin shoots up to standing, “Y-Your majesty, fu-goodness me I mean!” You almost burst out laughing at her change in demeanour and you both bow back.

“Good afternoon to the both of you.” He softly murmurs. He looked good, fantastic in fact; he was glowing. Maybe it was the glistening smile, the feel of happiness surrounding him. He looked really happy.

You murmur pointing to your left, “This is Ryujin. My best friend here. Of course, Ryujin you know who he is.” She nods, “It’s a pleasure to meet you your majesty.”

You snicker, “She’s not this polite usually, by the way.”

She smacks your upper arm, “What she means, your majesty is that, I can be a little playful at times.”

Soobin lets out a beautifully husky chuckle making your heart twist and churn. “No worries, no need to act differently around me. Relax.”

You notice him staring intently at you and you smile at him clutching your (unfortunately) clammy hands together. You murmur, “How did it go? With your parents?” Soobin smiles stepping forward, “Terrible.”

You stammer getting off put by his smiling face, “Uh…terrible?”

He hums, “We argued constantly, despite me finally standing up to them. I threatened to run away with you. To leave my life behind here.”

You heart stops. He’d do that for you?

“Why…? No you shouldn’t.”

Soobin shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I had feeling you’d not approve. I also don’t want to leave my people behind. I am a prince after all; it was a mere ploy.”

Ryujin clears her throat, “Well, I didn’t think the sweet prince had a scheming streak.”

You hum peering down at your ring necklace, “Oh, I see it’s still not gone. Even better at scheming than you were back then.” Soobin blushes slightly and nervously laughs, “You’re making me sound like I’m going to overthrow my father.”

He points at the blank faced guards beside him, “So my parents got extremely paranoid I’d suddenly disappear off. I didn’t want them to separate us again. They finally gave into my demands this morning.”

Your eyes sparkle in hope. Soobin smiles, “So these two guards here have been assigned to make sure I don’t leave but other than that…” he drawls off. His eyes meet your with a warm and loving gaze, “We can hang out with each other. We can be seen together regardless of what anyone says. We c-can make up for lost time.” He shyly finishes off with a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“You know I feel bad for the guards who have to witness this,” Ryujin snorts. The guards don’t reply except for having a lifelessly dead stare making her cackle. You launch yourself at Soobin and wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can. His arms lock around you as he stumbles back releasing a flustered laugh.

“You could spin her around you know, would really elevate the romance.” Ryujin hums nonchalantly. “Romance..?” Soobin stammers turning red as the roses in the garden. You clear your throat, “Ignore her, she can get a bit weird at times.”

“Fuck you too then.” She huffs. Prince Soobin pales at the language and you almost cry of laughter. “You’re going to have get to used to the colourful vocabulary.”

Soobin awkwardly murmurs, “I see…”

You laugh, “Think of it as non-royal etiquette.” Soobin clears his throat, “Seems I have a lot to learn.”

Ryujin hums playfully, “Don’t worry you’ll pick it up quick.”

Ryujin promptly leaves to get back to her shift leaving you in Soobin’s company. You peer at his features. He’s really grown. “You’re staring.” He mumbles peering back your own features.

“You’ve really grown into your features, Soobin. You’re…you’re really handsome.” You awkwardly mumble. His eyes widen and he becomes flushed. His eyes scan your face; you swear you could see his pupils dilate and linger a little longer on your lips.

Perhaps your imagination was wondering a little too much.

“You’re beautiful. Really, when i first saw you in the library, I was rather awestruck.” He admits and your heart batters against your chest. You breathlessly laugh, “We’ve changed a lot huh.”

“I think I liked you.” Soobin suddenly murmurs. Your vision almost whites out; you could have gotten whiplash from how quickly you snapped your face to his.

“…h-huh..?”

Soobin is staring at your necklace and he reaches forward nervously placing the ring between his thumb and index. He peers at it intensely.

“Pink quartz. Do you know what it means? You said this ring was custom right?” He asks.

You answer dumbfounded, “I mean yeah, you w-went to the jewellers to get this m-made.”

Soobin bashfully smiles, “Yeah, then I think…I think I definitely liked you.”

The past tense was killing you inside. Not anymore right?

The stunning gemstone sparkles and glitters under the sunlight like agast are way of stars in the night sky. The soft pink hue reflects slightly on his fingers. “It’s unconditional love. The meaning of pink quartz.”

Your heart almost stops mid-beat. You shakily speak out, “O-Oh. I’m …”

You felt like crying. Soobin was incredibly shy back then. It was his indirect way of showing his feelings. Maybe he truly did plan on confessing. Maybe if you confessed first, it would have been okay? How could you now? Did he still like you? Probably not.

Soobin’s eyes dart up to meet yours and you both get locked into a dream-like stare. His gaze was swirling with thousands of unrecognisable things. You shakily respond, “…I liked you too, you know..”

His eyes widen slightly, “…really?”

“You’re so incredibly sweet, so caring and genuine. How could I not? You always cared for me. Made me feel safe, you didn’t look at the fact I wasn’t a noble, I was just some kid from a rogue village apart of your kingdom. You understood me, you listened to me. God…I…” your voice cracks and you curse internally. You must have sounded like such a loser in his eyes. It must be obvious that you were still in love with him. How lame.

“You have a beautiful heart.” Soobin comments peering at your with glimmering eyes. Your eyes widen as he shakily takes both your hands into his ones. They felt soft, warm and comforting. You noticed how his breathing was even; he was just as anxious as you.

“Everything about you is loveable and you’re so strong,” Soobin murmurs adoringly.

“You don’t have to love me out of pity. You barely remember anything,” you bitterly laugh.

Soobin squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t remember things we did. But I really do remember how I felt about you. It’s so strong. I feel so strongly about you. It feels like I have a phoenix flying around my heart.”

A moment of silence passes and he stammers, “You make me feel complete. I had a missing piece and now I feel whole.”

Another moment of silence nothing staring into each other’s eyes with thousands of thoughts passing between you both. “I don’t want to lose you again. Because of you I finally gained the confidence to speak up against my parents. To fight for what I want. To take control of my life back.”

“So…do you still like me?” You stammer. You felt stupid. You just needed a direct confirmation that’s all.

Soobin releases a breathtaking smile, “I thought I made it obvious.”

Your eyes twinkle as a tears line your eyes. “Say it you idiot. I need verbal validation.”

Soobin chuckles, “I like you. I like you a lot. And I hope to unravel everything I’ve forgotten about our past each day and to relive them with you.”

Fuck, you were beyond head over heels. You probably could run around screaming like a maniac out of joy if you could.

“I’ve always liked you. It’s the same now. And I’m so incredibly happy to be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, Soobin. Thank you. Thank you for being my best friend, and now…”

His eyes form crescents as he smiles brightly, “Your lover?”

“Yeah. My lover.”

His eyes sparkle, “I’m glad.”

He suddenly flushes dark pink as he timidly lifts your hand and gentle places a tender kiss on the back of your hand. You feel faint.

“Just to…emphasise the point.” He awkwardly clears his throat.

You take his hand just as softly and place a peck on the back of his, “There.”

He looks incredibly flustered and you hum with a playful smile, “To emphasise my reciprocal feelings.”

Soobin nervously places his hand on the back of his neck, “I should read more romance. This all feels so new.” You tease, “Well, I have plenty of recommendations.” Soobin splutters, “Oh..?”

“Uh, where did your guards go?” You take notice peering around to see where they went.

Soobin’s eyes widen, “Oh! They seem to have left…I’m not quite complaining though. It’s nice to have alone time again.”

You let out an amused hum, “Probably would have been awkward with them standing here.”

“Not a fan of the romance genre?” Soobin jokes and you gleam, “A shame.”

Soobin felt like a dream come true, like a long romance novel that had come to an end, it felt like you were on the last page of the books you loved so much.

Just as how you both were separated by the misunderstandings and blockage of emotions, fate had brought both of you back together. As though thorns live amongst the roses, you had got your soulmate back through the hardships and thorns you had trodden on and so did he.

#choi soobin #soobin x reader #txt angst #txt x reader #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop angst #txt #tomorrow x together #txt soobin #soobin x you #txt fluff #kpop fanfic

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seiko-yume · 1 year

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Bishop headcanons

This is a long post, so I'll cut it here for anyone who isn't interested.

EDIT: added Narinder since he's technically a bishop too, and I have a few more HCs for him that I didn't make during the time of the Narinder and Lamb HCs.

Leshy

Physical age is stuck in his early 20's

Absolutely minuscule in size compared to the other bishops and followers (Shorter than Heket and Lamb)

Likes to put his hands in a raptor formation

Hates being touched in any manner (ex: being pet, or picked up)

Experiences sensory overload more often than before becoming a follower due to his heightened sense of smell and hearing when he went blind.

Burrows underground when he feels discomfort, or on the verge of a meltdown.

Vegan, cannot digest meat or any animal food product.

Enjoys gardening, even though he can't see. He likes the different smells and textures of plants.

Extremely quick to resort to violence in disagreements with other followers.

Goes apeshit over rain (he really likes rain)

Heket

VERY subtly petty, and knows exactly what'll make you tick.

Can crack open an ostrich egg in one punch

Will absolutely hold her own on a crusade, without being turned into a demon.

Learned sign language from the Lamb, since speaking causes her pain.

Transgender MtF

Food-motivated, loves to cook. Developed from a famine-causing goddess to hating seeing any follower go hungry.

The only one in the Old Faith family without any kind of food allergy, or dietary restriction.

Heavyset build. Height is similar to Narinder's

Sleeps long hours, and is late to nearly every sermon.

Exclusively T4T due to bad experience with transphobic people.

Physical age is stuck at 25

Loves bathing and soaking in water.

Narinder

Middle child syndrome (gets forgotten by the other bishops, but is legally allowed to bonk them for it.)

While chained, his legs were broken to prevent him from escaping easily. They weren't able to heal correctly. He currently uses forearm crutches, or a cane to get around.

Second tallest next to Shamura

Very thin build from naturally high metabolism. Heket tries to feed him more, but his body just turns it all into pure rage instead of fat.

Demiboy. Uses both he/him and she/her pronouns.

Lactose intolerant, but eats dairy-based dessert anyways. Constantly has IBS from this and can fill an outhouse halfway. Followers beg him to stop eating dairy (he doesn't and earned the "Poopshitter" nickname from Lamb.)

Severe allergy to fish and shellfish.

Likes to do makeup, and is actually really artsy with it.

Had an emo phase (and still is)

Severe guilt and self-loathing around his siblings. Feelings of guilt are especially intense around Shamura. Shamura tries their best every day to show him that they forgive him.

Gets stuck in a tree at least twice a week

Kalamar

The most dramatic of cult drama-queens. There's a new crisis happening with him every week.

Got a septum piercing after learning he couldn't reattach his amputated (pierced) ears.

Refuses to learn sign language, despite being deaf. He's exceptionally well at reading lips, however.

Monologues about how handsome, and beautiful his temple was, usually to himself because he doesn't realize that other members had walked away.

Accidentally discovered Narinder had a deadly allergy to seafood while Nari was a kitten. (He had to babysit him, and fed him fish stew because he thought cats liked fish.)

Doesn't like to do assigned work in the cult, but enjoys forging weapons and jewelry.

Very picky eater. Almost everything makes him sick. No known food allergies, but is known to be intolerant to meat, fish, dairy, certain vegetables, mushrooms, most fruits, and bread. He usually eats cauliflower soup to stay on the safe side.

Had several near-death experiences due to illness as a child.

Very lithe and underweight. Tentacles give the illusion of being heavier than average.

Physical age is stuck at 33.

Shamura

Severe migraines and memory problems.

Tries to dissent against the Lamb due to often forgetting the entire chunk of their life from Narinder's betrayal to dying at the hands of the Lamb.

Has crying fits upon recalling parts of their life they forgot, and fears the next time they'll forget.

Clings to the other siblings, needing constant physical reassurance they're still alive. They're unable to sleep alone.

Had to re-learn basic motor skills including how to speak when they were first indoctrinated.

Knits and crochets in their spare time.

Likes to watch dance circles, but avoids any activity that might cause a migraine.

Allergic to camellia flowers. Avoids farming and seeking the medbay when sick.

Taller than Narinder (HC Narinder is the tallest member before his siblings were indoctrinated)

AFAB

Has always yearned to become a parent during the time they were a god, but could never bear any children due to being infertile. When they found several infant gods, they couldn’t help but take them under their wing.

Physical age is stuck at 40

#headcanons #cult of the lamb spoilers #spoilers

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spaceoperetta · 8 months

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today I learned a new phrase!

tw suicide, long post where I talk about how awful I've been feeling

'passively suicidal.'

of all things, I saw it on a twitter post about kendall roy

and, uh, that's what I'm going through right now I'm having a bad time.

I'll be fine I'm not going to do anything but I have cried every day for the last two weeks. don't give yourself constant jaw pain by letting a new-to-me dentist file down the side of your tooth. (I needed a filling replaced early bc of pain but it was nothing compared to this, I'm so stupid and instantly knew something was wrong after, I legit got home and wanted to hurt myself, but when I called the dentist back they wanted to file more shit down to fix it and, no.)

Ways to fix it run anywhere from 'get the filling adjusted by a different, trusted professional' (done, but they can't build up what was ground down) to 'try a mouth guard' (better but doesn't fix the issue) and I guess I'll need a crown or to cope with unending pain in my jaw for the rest of my life. except they make crowns off your current tooth and it's not right! and I got a filling since then elsewhere! something I am utter shit at because I caused it by saying yes it's not like I was hit by a car

hurts to talk, no singing from me, and I still can't do all that much shit with my wrists and therefore hands because, still recovering from wrist surgery. and my neck's been hurting for two months.

going to see a new therapist next week, at least. unfortunately due to my first hand POV of my siblings extensive health issues I always think my health issues will never go away/get worse. because that's been my past two years and also my past six months

anyway turns out 'passively suicidal' is the correct phrase for what I went through in college due to my whole breakdown and it's back except I'm not in school and it's in my body and even though I know it doesn't matter, they're issues I caused myself, one way or another. (and that's what's driving me crazy with self-loathing amidst the pain)

working on fixing things but I have no energy and mostly just sit around like a lump and crying a lot. I need a routine but that's hard when all I want to do is sleep or do nothing, barely keeping on with 'massage healing surgery site 3x a day' my first one was at 2pm today.

so, uh, I'm feeling up there with said college breakdown for worse consistent feeling in life. I'm not going to do anything I just feel sad and upset and awful most of the time either that or nothing and I have successfully zoned out for a few hours watching streams or internet videos. I have trouble imagining any future for myself, career-wise, personal life-wise, anything. I've never been good at that, and granted, I've spent more of my adult life being depressed than being productive.

anyway, hopefully like the mountain goats say, there will come a day when I will feel better, but when that day's coming, who can say?

I got some prozac from my pcp but haven't started it yet due to imagined, easily resolved barriers

I just feel like if I don't fix things it'll be like this forever and this will never go away. because it's fucking jaw pain and I have to fix the bite issue. my orthodontist said my bite's always been shit and my dentist said my bite is 'perfect' and uh I believe one of the more than the other.

I've just had a lot of health issues this year and half of them were caused by saying 'yes' to something I shouldn't have and now I'm in pain and the other half were 'so you played too many videogames two years ago to distract from the desire to self harm and now you just think about how that harmed you even more than that moment of slapping yourself would have'

yes I know it's all stupid

#tw suicide mention #comedic ish opening to something that isn't comedic at all #my house is a mess I have shit everywhere bc I just put everything on the tables

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 8 months

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Psycho Analysis: Harald Jaekelsson

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS! You can thank me later because now you won't have to read a piece of shit comic!)

So in 2003, Marvel decided to let Garth Ennis write a Thor story for the Marvel MAX imprint. Said story is called Thor: Vikings and it features Thor fighting against a horde of immortal, unstoppable zombie vikings. The Avengers are completely and utterly hopeless against said zombies and are beaten offscreen, Dr. Strange is a sarcastic asshole who acts more like Constantine than himself, and of course the whole thing is filled to the brim with the darkness, grit, and biases we all know and hate Ennis for. The last issue is the only one worth reading, and it is unfortunately held back by the fact that the previous four issues are tryhard edgelord nonsense. In short: This comic is absolute dog shit.

But hey, even the worst comics can have some positive qualities, right? Could it be that paerhaps the main viking zombie antagonist of this awful elseworlds story, Harald Jaekelsson, might actually be an interesting and compelling villain for Thor to face? Could it actually be possible for Ennis to fuck up the awesome concept that is Thor, a self-loathing Nazi who hates Hitler and his government, an affable Templar knight, and a warrior woman vs. a horde of zombie vikings?

Of course it’s possible! I’m going to tell you just how possible it is! And I'm also going to rant about how terrible this comic is!

Motivation/Goals: Literally everything there is to know about this guy is right in the very first page of the comic:

I'm not kidding when I say that there is literally nothing to this guy but murder, rape, and conquest. There's no underlying motivations, there's no hints of complexity, nothing remotely resembling a personality. He's just a walking, talking, rape-and-pillage machine.

Final Fate: The sole redeeming feature of this comic is the final issue, which actually manages to deliver a cool premise (even if it's not enough to save it as a whole). And considering how fucking nasty and unpleasant Jaekelsson has been this whole time, his ultimate end is very, very satisfying.

First, he gets fucking roasted by Thor's crew as the god goes in for the wind up:

And then Thor gives this crusty viking bastard the ol' Kars tratment:

This is somewhat diminished due to the fact that, unlike Kars, Jaekelsson's personality and characterization is thinner than wet paper, but I'll let Thor have this since it's the only cool thing he gets to do in the whole comic.

Final Thoughts & Score: The goodwill a work like Preacher awards you can only get you so far, and this might very well have burned all that up. As Thor: Vikings is utter dog shit, so too is its main antagonist. But quite frankly, Jaekelsson goes beyond being shitty; he is, without a doubt, the worst fucking villain I have ever seen in my life.

He is quite literally everything wrong with Garth Ennis and his writing in one gruesome package. His entire personality is nothing but rape and murder, with zero complexities or anything compelling to make him interesting beyond being a shallow hate sink; he easily curbstomps the heroes, including Thor, because Ennis hates heroes with a passion and will be damned before he lets one have a win over normal, everyday folk (something undercut by Thor getting a badass finishing blow); and worst of all, his entire existence is just absolute nonsense to get Ennis’ point across, existing only so he can deliver a grisly “fuck you” to superheroes.

Like, there is literally no reason that Jaekelsson, let alone the rest of the vikings, should be so absurdly overpowered from a curse that they are singlehandedly able to commit mass murder and no sell gods, super soldiers, the fucking Scarlet Witch, and all modern technology and gunfire. And yet Jaekelsson and his crew continue to pull new unexplained magical abilities out of their ass at every turn so that Ennis can keep allowing the bodies to pile higher and higher. There’s no logic to anything going on in this story because these zombie vikings exist only to make the heroes look like incompetent jackasses so Ennis can make a “point.”

And you know, there’s an easy fix to this: Make the vikings more like the undead pirates in Pirates of the Caribbean. Give them a lot of strength and durability that makes them a challenge to fight, but also allows them to be beaten with enough cunning and wits. Hell, if you want to make it so Thor can’t just zap them away with lightning, go the Kingdom Hearts II route and have them be immune to all damage (even magic) when not standing in the moonlight revealing their skeletal forms. There are plenty of creative ways to make a challenge out of cursed sailors, but that would require a bit of thinking, wouldn’t it? And it would require giving any of these zombies a personality.

And that’s perhaps Jaekelsson’s biggest failing: He is an utter void of a character. The last two paragraphs were me ranting about the zombies as a whole because Jaekelsson is less than nothing. He is just a walking personification of rape, murder, and brutality who exists as the ultimate and definitive generic doomsday villain, a black hole of character writing and charisma that just sucks the joy and readability out of the story. A comic needs a compelling villain, and doubly so if you’re trying to make a point like Ennis so desperately is here, and Jaekellson is just none of that. He’s all the bad bits of Preacher and The Boys wrapped into one package, and it might be the worst thing he’s ever done.

I thought Alan Moore’s Moonchild was the shittiest villain ever, but at least Moore had something he was trying to say. At least there was enough to his absolutely whack take on Harry Potter to start a conversation about, and if nothing else there’s the absolute hilarity of seeing Harry zap Sean Connery with electrified thunder piss. It was still fucking terrible, but you can at least kind of appreciate the effort Moore is putting in to his grumpy old man ranting. Now imagine that but there’s no effort to be compelling and even more effort to be spiteful, and you have Jaekelsson.

I’m giving him a -1/10. Yeah, a negative score. This is the most spiteful, edgy, tryhard waste of ink I’ve ever had the misfortune to see, and he’s easily the worst thing in one of the worst things Ennis ever wrote. How did he manage to make a zombie viking who features in some of the most metal panels ever so unbelievably lame? I am so fucking mad that a comic that has this panel-

-is one of the worst things I've ever read in my life.

Thank god none of this shit is canon, no matter what Ennis says.

#psycho analysis #Harald Jaekelsson #Garth Ennis #Marvel #Marvel MAX #Thor: Vikings #tw gore #tw rape

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comfysofti · 2 months

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Another night, another rambling about characters in my madness combat au, weee

Today I'm talking about 2BDamned, because

Man

Did i made him suffer

He's geniuenly one of the most tragic(or at least one of the most traumatised) characters in my au, if you really go deep with analysing him

(part 4 out of 20-something(probably) parts of me talking about characters in my madness combat au)

A little quote that i like to use for him: if you pick up a stray, will it actually love you? Will it actually obey you? Even if you give it home, food, anything it desires? It won't, if you "rule it" with a fiery, iron grip

2BDamned was one of those unfortunate folks who got forced to join Auditors and Phobos' organisation because of their lack of staff (which definitely didn't occurred because they were using staff that they deemed useless as subjects in inhumane experiments, nope)

He quickly, however became his bosses "favourite" and became a lead scientist in the hybrid project that they're running. And with him becoming their favourite, in less than a month, getting the highest position a scientist can get in a few weeks, he got some, "weird looks" to say the least. Some people were just jealous of him, and thought that all this was unfair, others were actually impressed by this, and thought he deserves his position, some people didn't had an opinion on the situation

But, either way, with the amount of bonuses that he got from being a favourite, he also got a lot of. Minuses. Downsides. Really. Really. Bad ones. He got such huge position because he was very important for the hybrid project, and with the amount of things he knew, nor Auditor nor Phobos wanted him to ever leave. After all, why let leave someone so valuable? So easily usable and broken? It didn't dawned on 2B how doomed he was until it was too late

At first, he had to witness his friends became subjects to those inhumane experiments. Which he leads, hence him being lead scientist/medic of the team that handles it. Not counting him witnessing thousands if not more people die and suffer daily because of those experiments

But this is not the worst part. Auditor and Phobos are the worst part of it all. After seeing how valuable 2B actually is, they decided they won't let him leave them, no matter what. Even if it meant, like, breaking his bones a few times! Or maybe even driving him insane! You know... To teach him a lesson that he can't leave them, and all questions about permanent leave will lead to him getting injured, almost killed even. But 2B doesn't want to be this dog at their side. But he can't leave and he knows it. It was scaring him. Being monitored by his bosses almost 25/8, feeling constantly alone and scared, terrified to even breathe in their presence

At some point, he thought that maybe death will safe him. It's gentle embrace and darkness, will finally safe him. But after almost 20 unsuccessful attempts to end his existence(its a miracle he was safed all those times), he realised that death won't safe him from them. They can always revive him, and fuck around with his brain, so he'll be this "obedient lapdog" that they want him to be. This realisation hit him like a train at full speed

Is he broken? Totally broken in sense of his sanity? Yes. But he hides it. His mask and cold tone help to hide it. Help to hide the fear. This chill that always runs down his body. Everyday he goes to work, or even wakes up

Being a favourite isn't always nice. Even if it looks like it is

Again, his friends, everyone that was close to him, suffered and nearly died in inhumane experiments, and he couldn't do anything about it. He loathes himself for not doing anything to help them, although he couldn't do anything either way. His self hatred filled with all the abuse, manipulation and gaslighting he experiences at work from his bosses will eventually break him completely

In bad timeline it did. He got the death he wanted but as predicted he was just revived and turned into "obedient puppet"

In insanity timeline, he became a subject as well. A lamb, weak sheep(literally), unable to walk. Left to suffer and die alone, in pain, with countless minutes to reflect and loathe himself for all he did to those poor people who died and suffered, the same way he does now

2BDamned is supposed to suffer. In all timelines. Not just because of Auditor and Phobos but also because of his guilt. Because of his blindness to obvious exits when they're present. He had countless chances to leave, but always ignored them. Perhaps if he didn't ignored at least one of them, at the very beginning of all this, perhaps he would've had a chance to have a relatively normal life

Well, that's all about him <:33

Don't have anything to add, unless someone has questions, so ya know, feel free to ask them, if you have any!!!

Thanks for reading, and off to sleep i go!

#madness combat #2bdamned #Vee's madcom au rambling #a1110 archived project au #if you couldn't tell i like making very tragic and traumatised characters #but hey it's madness combat au what do you expect

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chickensarentcheap · 1 year

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Lost and Found- Chapter 3

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you can just read this one and know what’s going on)

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @asirensrage, @residentdormouse, @munstysmind, @secretaryunpaid, @tragiclyhip, @starryeyes2000, @themaradaniels, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/111130339

My tag list is OPEN. Give me a shout if you’d like to be added :)

Tyler wakes to curious fingers exploring his face; lovingly tracing every scar that inhabits his skin. He’s gathered quite the collection throughout his thirty-six years. Souvenirs of reckless teen adventures, run-ins with enemy fighters while serving in the Middle East, assaults with shattered beer bottles and broken pool cues during drunken bar fights, mishaps and altercations while on the job as a merc. He’d never been self conscious about them; his personal appearance had become low on his list of priorities after his son had died and he’d relegated himself to a life of enormous self-loathing and contempt. And the women he’d sought sexual gratification with hadn’t been repulsed by them. After all, he was just as replaceable as they were; nothing more than a warm and willing body there to fill their lonely nights and to satisfy their needs.

Even those whose names he remembered and numbers he’d collected hadn’t shown much of an interest or concern. Located in various parts of the world, he’d contact them if he was ever nearby and never had to worry about forming a connection; both under the strict understanding that neither wanted anything more than no strings attached sex. Sometimes they’d ask; questioning him about the scars’ origins but always satisfied with with the simple reply of ‘work related’. He hadn’t been interested in sharing anything of himself with them; leaving as soon as soon as he could flush the condom and muttering a half assed ‘I’ll call you’ as he headed out the door.

His reasons for being so distant and cold had been two fold; no one deserved to be saddled with his brand of bullshit and he simply hadn’t come across anyone he’d ever consider anything more serious and permanent with. And he hadn’t exactly been putting forth the effort of finding anyone worthwhile; he was messy and broken, and the life of a mercenary was chaotic and unpredictable. Every job coming with the risk he was simply one bullet to the head away from being erased from existence. Hardly a life to drag someone into; only a selfish bastard would make a commitment and then continue to put himself in harm’s way every time he had to make some cash. He wasn’t able to give all of himself to someone; burdened by the mistakes and the demons of his past and the dangers of his chosen career. No one deserved a man that couldn’t give them a normal life; saddled with fear and worry whenever he went out of town, constantly wondering if they’d ever lay eyes on him again. What kind of prick would allow someone to get brought into THAT? Why drag someone into something so messy when they could easily find another person that could give them the life that they wanted, needed, and deserved?

And then Esme wandered into his life and turned his entire world upside down.

Even now he has his weak moments. Where he questions whether or not he did the right thing. If he should have ignored his own wants and needs and concentrated on doing whatever it took to push her away. He often feels selfish and worries about what will happen to her because of it; the life of a mercenary not for the meek and mild. But she’s strong and resilient and quite possibly the most stubborn person he’s ever met. Something that had been painstakingly clear the moment they’d checked into that dirty little hotel in Dhaka; refusing to be intimidated by him and not afraid to challenge his decisions and his misplaced feelings of superiority. Perhaps that’s when he realised just how different she actually was; a determined and feisty little thing that couldn’t be pushed around and didn’t really require a ‘white knight’ coming to her aid. If she kept you around, it was because she WANTED you there. Not because she needed you. That alone had intrigued him; this tiny, beautiful woman that was anything but weak and helpless. discovered just how comfortable he was with her; trusting her in ways he’d never quite trusted anyone else, and easily and effortlessly opening up to her. Before he knew what was happening, they were caught up in a mess of tangled sheets and naked limbs and he was sharing his deepest and darkest secrets; telling her about his abusive childhood and the death of his son and the horrible decision he’d made leading up to it.

It was until the next morning that she’d shown curiosity in regards to his scars. Standing together in the cramped confines of the shower as lukewarm water -the best that crappy hotel could provide- streamed down on their naked bodies. Her dark, wet tresses clinging to the sides of her face as she chewed on her bottom lip and gentle fingertips explored his long healed injuries. He’d initially shown hesitancy; his body tensing as it fought to get acquainted with a touch so tender and loving that it nearly took his breath away. He couldn’t remember a time where he’d ever felt anything quite like it. His ex-wife had never been an affectionate person. Sexual contact being more than enough as far as she was concerned, and she’d always mock him and call him ‘weak’ and ‘soft’ for every seeking out more. Growing up, his father had been cold and callous; preferring to beat and torment instead of nurture and protect. And his memories of his mother had been slowly fading over the years; the only person who’d ever truly loved him passing away when he was only nine years old. Suddenly he was faced with attentiveness and genuine care and concern and he didn’t know how to deal with it; ashamed at how much he enjoyed the attention and at the things he was feeling so quickly. And then horrified by how his pursued offence had obviously hurt her feelings; tear filled dark eyes looking up at him and her hand slipping from his body as she quickly backed away.

He’d stopped her; worried that he’d somehow scared her when all he’d really wanted to do was protect her. Taking her hand and placing it back on his chest; fingers curling around hers and then guiding them along the scar near his left shoulder. “You can ask about them if you want.”

It was as if…in the middle of that cramped shower…they’d reached a level of acceptance and understanding that neither had ever experienced before. Each finding someone that didn’t view their blemishes and their jagged and broken bits as imperfections, but instead as the threads and pieces of the stories that made them who they were.

******

“What are you doing?”

She greets his sleepy smile with one of her own. “Admiring.”

“Admiring what?”

“You. Your face. I like it. It’s a nice face.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you have shit taste in men?”

“Anyone ever tell YOU that you’re an enormous pain in my ass?”

“Only you.” Slipping an arm between her and the mattress, his hand finds the small of her back; brushing his knuckles across smooth, warm skin before pulling her tightly against him. “Five times a day. Seven days a week.”

“I notice you keep me around though. Despite all the mean things I say to you.”

“I notice you stay put. Despite me being a huge pain in your ass.”

“That’s because you’re MY huge pain in the ass. No one else’s. Just mine. I get to be the only one you drive absolutely batshit insane. By the way….” A fingertip glides over the scar that drapes across the bridge of his nose; the aftermath of a roadside bomb that had killed five members of his platoon. A blast so powerful that despite being fifty yards away, it not only shattered the protective goggles on his face, but had left him unconscious for the better part of two days. When he woke, both his nose and the right side of his face - including his eye- had been heavily bandaged; more than a dozen stitches administered and surgery needed to remove countless pieces of shrapnel from his flesh.. “...this one’s my favourite.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “You have a favourite?”

“You don’t?”

“Considering I’m the one that had crazy shit happen to him in the process of getting them? No. I can’t stay I do.”

“It’s true what they say, you know. At least in my case. About scars being sexy. Your’s definitely are.”

Turning his face into hers, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I think you’re just weird.”

“I’ve been called way worse. By way better,” she chides, and then playfully sticks her tongue out at him. Squealing when he lands a firm slap to one of her buttocks, then giggling and squirming against him when he pinches the supple flesh.

It’s the mix of aggression and tenderness that she finds enjoyable; succumbing to his manhandling and roughness during sex and then the care and gentleness that comes after. No other lover has ever possessed both; either unable to fully fulfil her needs and desires yet excelling in their aftercare, or able to please her sexually, but then becoming emotionally and physically absent. Tyler has been a refreshing combination of both; an attentive and often -welcomingly- savage and animalistic lover yet a soft and adoring partner. A juxtaposition compared to both outer appearance and knowledge of both his past life and his current profession; a man whose hands are capable of taking a human life yet able to bring another to the height of passion never experienced before.

She snuggles into him; on her side with her head tucked under his chin and a leg tossed over one of his thighs. Her eyes closed as she drapes an arm across his chest ; palm briefly resting on his right peck before sliding down his torso and onto his rib cage. Fingers slowly and methodically tracing every inch of the enormous tattoo that graces his skin.

While it has taken some getting used to, he’s come to enjoy -and look forward to- the affection that she both craves and offers. Never realising that all along he’d needed someone like her; someone untarnished by the harshness of life and the brutality of the job. Someone capable of finding the beauty in the world despite being subjected to its ugliness; refusing to let the torment and the trauma of her past completely break her spirit. Able to love so profoundly and willingly; easily giving so much herself despite the fear or receiving nothing in return. No woman had possessed the things she does; the sparkle to her eye and the ability to laugh at herself. And maybe, in turn, she’d been needing someone like him. Who would allow her to love fiercely and unabashedly. And make her feel safe and protected in ways she’d never experienced before.

The calloused pads of his fingers glide repeatedly along her spine as they lay in silence; her breath warm against his skin as her tiny, slender frame rises and falls with each steady inhale and exhale. Watching through the open curtains as the sun finishes its retreat; both sky and ocean painted in vivid shades of purple, orange and pink. Conversations and laughter floating on the breeze; locals and tourists alike making their way to beachfront bars and restaurants. Despite the rumbling of his stomach, he can’t bring himself to move; blissfully paralyzed by the weight of her body against his and the familiar scent that clings to her hair and skin. There’s a comfort and ease with her that he’s never experienced before; the trust he has in her enabling him to let his guard down both physically and mentally. And slowly but surely he can feel the chains and burdens of toxic masculinity being stripped away and left behind’ Years spent being tormented and abused at the hands of his father followed by careers surrounded by ‘alpha males’; those who refused to show even a glimmer of emotion and viewed those who did are weak and expendable.

With Esme there’s no need to keep up the ‘act’; no need to live up to the legend and the hype that those in the mercenary circle had created and so desperately cling to. Never judged when showing the ‘softer sides’ of his personality; allowed moments of frayed emotions and tattered nerves and emotional vulnerability. Instead, she nurtures those things; encouraging him to talk about the tremendous losses he’s faced and the traumas he’s endured and the horrors he’s seen during his time in the military and as a merc. Giving him a safe place to both vent AND rest; a heart bigger than her tiny body and strong and loving arms giving him a warmth and security that he never knew he needed.

“We should get moving.” His fingertips glide down her spine and find the tattoo that graces her lower back; a koi fish and lotus flower-themed piece that she refers to as her ‘tramp stamp’. A drunken indulgence during her first year in university; stumbling into a piercing place across the street from her apartment and emerging hours later with the colourful and elaborate artwork. “Take a shower, get dressed, grab something to eat.”

“Yeah….we should…” She heaves a long, content sigh. “...in a bit. Let’s just stay here. Like this. For just a little longer.”

He obliges; knuckles drifting up her spine, hand disappearing under her hair. Lips meeting the top of her head as his thumb and forefinger draw slow, lazy circles on the nape of her neck. And his eyes close as he slips towards sleep once more; relaxed by her feathery touches and the feel of her breath against his skin. Unsure of how much time has passed when she eventually stirs against him; yawning loudly as she rolls onto her stomach.

“So…” Laying an arm across his chest, she places her chin upon it. “I was thinking…”

“That explains the burning smell.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Not cool, Tyler James. That is NOT friends.”

“I’m just playin’ with ya. I thought you like that kind of thing. When I played with ya.”

“Your mind really is permanently in the gutter, isn’t it.”

“Blame yourself. It wasn’t like that before. And then you came along and…”

“How long are you going to keep lying about that? I am not the guilty party here. YOU seduced ME. YOU corrupted ME. Not the other way around.”

“You just want to fool everyone with that sweet, innocent little thing act you’ve got going for yourself.”

“Excuse you? Act? ACT? It’s not an act. I AM a sweet, innocent little thing. Or at least I was. Until you got a hold of me.”

“Listen, no one that’s innocent asks a guy she just met to do the things you asked me to do. But if holding onto this good girl image helps you sleep better at night..”

“You corrupted me,” Esme insists. “Deny it all you want. I was such a pure, angelic little thing. Then the big, bad, mercenary came along and just totally ruined me. In more ways than one.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Definitely NOT a bad thing.” She gives a yelp when he once more slaps and pinches her ass; giggling when he wraps both arms around her waist and pulls her on top of him. Stretching her body out along his, she presses a line of kisses along his collarbone and then places her chin on his chest. “So…Colorado…”

Looping strands of her hair behind her ears, he briefly cradles her face in his palms; pads of his thumbs grazing across the tops of his cheeks before pressing a kiss to her brow. “What about it?”

“It’s been six months. Since I never went back there. Not that I miss it. Believe me, I don’t. And I don’t definitely don’t miss them.”

“But…”

“But I was thinking that maybe it’s time we take that trip. While we still have some free time. You’ll be going to work soon. Nik could have tons of jobs lined up by the time you’re ready to go back. And we decided we’re going to start looking for a new place. Moving takes a lot of time and a lot of energy, right? We won’t have much left to devote to other things. So I was thinking…”

“You wanted to go home. For a visit.”

“That is NOT home. It hasn’t been home in a hell of a long time. Honestly, it hasn’t felt like home since my dad died. That’s a long time ago. I was only seventeen. When that happened. And things just went downhill from there. As if my mother wasn’t already a complete and utter nightmare.”

“Then why go back? You stayed away for a reason. And all those reasons are pretty serious. From what you’ve told me.”

“They’re getting suspicious. They’re calling more and more, leaving me all kinds of voicemails. I try to just ignore them, but it’s getting hard. I can’t hide away forever. I do owe them some kind of explanation. Or at least one that’s a lot better than what I’ve already given them.”

“I just don’t want you getting your hopes up. Thinking that we’re going to get there and find out she’s somehow turned over a new leaf and is an entirely different person. I don’t want to be going all the way there just for her to fuck everything up for you.”

“I guess I feel like I need to go. Like it will give me some closure. Finally let me put the old life…the old Esme…completely behind me. That if I bring my new life to them and let them see it, they’ll finally let me go. They’ll realise that I’m not that fragile little girl anymore; the one that they can bully and boss around and control. I want them to see who I am now. What my life is like. That’s not so bad, is it? To want them to see that?”

“It’s not bad at all. And I get it. Why you want to do it. I’m just worried that things aren’t going to go the way you want. That going there is just going to open an even bigger can of worms and make things worse. I don’t want you getting hurt. That’s all I’m worried about. You.”

Grinning, she runs a nail along his jaw, stopping at his chin and playfully squeezing it between thumb and forefinger. “You really are a big softie, you know that?”

“When it comes to you? Yeah…” Tyler gives a sheepish grin. “...guess I am.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t ever tell anyone that you’re really just a gentle giant. Huge teddy bear.”

He frowns.

“A huge teddy bear that kills a man a hundred different ways. With his bare hands. Better?”

“I guess I’ll allow it.”

“And I know I’ve probably painted a really bad picture of my family…”

“It hasn’t been a pretty one, that’s for sure.”

“...and believe me, they really are as awful as I’ve made them out to be, but…”

“You have something to prove to them. I get it. I was the same way with my old man; always trying to show him that I wasn’t the huge failure and disaster he predicted I’d become. Mind you, I didn’t exactly help my own cause. Doing what I did when Austin was sick, not being able to keep my marriage together, becoming an alcoholic and a pill junkie. And then there’s the whole killing people for money thing.”

“That’s not all you do,” Esme reminds him. “There’s more to it than that. Way more. Does he know? About the whole mercenary thing?”

“I told him. Called him up once when I was drunk as fuck and totally hopped up on Oxy. Ranting and raving about what an asshole he’d been to my mum and how he owed me an apology. For all the bullshit he pulled when I was a kid. I don’t know how the whole mercenary thing came about it. I don’t think he believed me though. Just laughed and hung up.”

“You never told me about that. Calling him.”

“It was before I met you. About a year or so. Haven’t had a reason to talk about that kind of stuff. It’s not like we make him an important topic of conversation.”

“You can if you want to, you know. Talk about him. I know you’ve told me the basics. About what he was like after your mom died. But if you ever want to tell me more…”

“There’s not much else to tell you. Everything there is to know, you know. He was a prick before my mum died and he became an even bigger one afterwards. I just did what I had to do. To survive. Towed the line as best I could. And once I became old enough and big enough to fight back, he realised he couldn’t get away with his shit anymore and that was it. I avoided him, he avoided me. Until I was old enough to join the military.”

“And he’s never shown any remorse? For the things he did?”

“He doesn’t think he did anything wrong. In his eyes, he was toughening me up. Making me a man. A man’s man, as he called it.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

“Only thing he feels sorry about? That he didn’t do a good enough job. Turning me into what he thought I should be. Had he done a good job, I wouldn’t have fucked up like I did. With Sarah, with Austin. Especially with Austin.”

“Tyler, your dad was an abusive piece of shit. He still is. No real man treats his own kid like that. No real man beats on little kids. Or women. Trust me, you’re more a man than he could ever hope to be. You’ve made your mistakes, but you’ve more than made up for them. You’ve made amends. You’ve paid your dues. You know that, right?”

“Sometimes I do. Other times I think there’s still more to make up for.”

“There’s not. Everything you did? To get Ovi and I out of Dhaka? That was enough. It was more than enough.”

“I want to believe that. I want to believe that it makes up for everything. All the stupid decisions I made, all the dumb shit I’ve done. I’ve done bad things, Esme. And not always to bad people, either. I’ve hurt people. There’s a lot that I’m not proud of. And the fact that you can look past all of it and…”

“If you were even an ounce of the monster you think you are, do you really think I’d be here? Do you really think I would have stuck around on that bridge? Do you really think I’d be subjecting myself to your dirty, filthy sexual tendencies?”

“I don’t know. Guess I just assumed that last part is why you stick around.”

“It’s part of it,” she chides, and pecks his lips. “Your sexual prowess and skills. Along with your big dick.”

“And you say I corrupted you?”

“There’s a lot of reasons I stayed on the bridge. And why I stick around now. Those two just happen to be two of my favourite things.”

“And it’s my mind that’s always in the gutter?” Grabbing a hold of her hips, he unceremoniously dumps her onto her back and then kneels between her legs; a hand on either side of her head as he leans down to kiss her.

She reaches up to clear the longer strands of hair from his eyes, then cradles his face in her palms; eyes locked on his as she runs the pads of her thumbs across his lips. “I stay because I love you.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I know.”

“And as weird as it sounds, it’s because I love you that I do want to go back. I want them to meet you. I want them to see us together. See that we’re happy and things are good and we’re making a great life together. That’s what we’re doing, right? Making a life together?”

“You moved to an entirely different country for me. You moved into my place. We’re going to look at houses tomorrow. I’d say things are pretty serious.”

“I just think seeing you and meeting you will make it real for them. Sometimes I wonder if they think I’ve made everything up; some elaborate story to keep me away from them. Maybe they even think you’re fake. That you’re my pretend boyfriend.”

“If you were going to have a pretend boyfriend, wouldn’t he be a lot better than me? Some really rich guy? A famous actor? A pro athlete? Underwear model even? Why would you pick an Australian that lives in a shack with a dog and a chicken?”

“Because he’s hot as fuck, thats why.” Lifting her head from her pillow, she pecks his lips, then wriggles out from underneath him and slips out of bed. She snags a long discarded t-shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor; slipping it over her head and then proceeding to gather up their wet swimsuits and towels. “You know, despite what you think about yourself, you are quite the catch.”

Tyler moves onto his back; propping himself up on his elbows as he watches her. “I’m really starting to question just how much of your sanity is intact.”

“It’s like you’ve never looked in a mirror. Do you not look at yourself from time to time? Do you not realise what you look like?”

“Apparently not.”

“I don’t understand how mediocre men can think they’re God’s gift and then guys like you are out there walking around like you’re totally repulsive or something. If you’re that unappealing, how do you explain your man slut years? How did you manage to pull so much if you’re as ugly as you think?”

“Ugly is a stretch. I never said I was ugly. I said I was…I don’t know…average.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you really think someone ‘average’ would get as much as ass as you were?”

“Let’s not pretend these were beauty queens I was nailing. I mean, they weren’t repulsive by any stretch of the imagination. But I wasn’t exactly picky. About who I got my dick wet with. I mean, it doesn’t say much when women you just met are willing to bang you so quickly.”

“Excuse me?” She tosses a pair of jeans in his direction. “I banged you quickly. Or relatively, anyway. Are you saying I’m…I don’t know…average and easy?”

“No. I’m saying you’re an exception.”

“You’re frustrating, you know that? Very frustrating. I don't understand how you don’t realise how attractive you are. You’v got it all going for you; tall, ripped, pretty blue eyes, this whole smouldering intensity. You’re hot. End of story.”

“You know, I find it really odd that you of all people are lecturing others about not finding themselves attractive. Miss “‘I look like a beached whale’ every time you put on a bathing suit. Despite the fact you’re like a buck five soaking wet. How does someone like you not realise how hot they are? You’re always walking around like you’re the ugliest woman on earth. Always shit talking yourself.”

Esme scowls. “Touche. And speaking of just walking around…” She eyes him as he slips out of bed and wanders over to the open duffle sitting by the balcony doors; rummaging for a clean pair of clothes. “...must you?”

“What?”

“Walk around like that. Everything just swaying in the breeze. Like you have no shame in the world.”

“I don’t have any. What’s wrong with walking around like this? Who’s gonna see? Nothing but ocean out there.”

“It’s very distracting, okay. I can’t deal with it. You parading your goodies around like that.”

“Technically aren’t they your goodies now?”

“You are such a fast learner. Seriously though, can’t you at least cover that thing up? It distracts me. Regardless of what…form…it’s in. It’s just there. Asking for attention.”

“Listen, just because you can’t control yourself…”

“You look good naked. I can’t help it. I mean, you look good anyway. But naked…” Sighing dramatically, she uses a hand to fan her face. “...is it getting hot in here or is it just me?”

“Maybe you’re just scared of it,” he teases. “Isn’t that what you told me? That you were scared of it? First time you saw it?”

“I said I was intimidated by it. I mean, you’re not exactly…small. By any stretch of the imagination. I was worried you were going to break me in half. That it wasn’t all going to fit. But momma didn’t raise no coward and she definitely didn’t raise no quitter, so…”

“You did alright. A solid effort on your part. A good B, B plus.”

“Pardon me!” She snags one of the wet towels and smacks him in the ass with it. “A B? B plus? That was an A performance. If not better.’

“Like I said, you did alright. But there were some issues. Some weak parts. That I had to help you with. It’s a learning process.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she grumbles, and then shrieks when he effortlessly scoops her off her feet and tosses her over his shoulders; yelping when he brings his palm down onto a bare ass cheek in a ringing slap. “That one hurt! That’s going to leave a mark!”

“I’ll rub and kiss it better.”

“Ooo, kinky. So is this where the big, bad, mercenary man kills me? Chops me into a hundred pieces? Finds places to dump them all? Then destroys all the evidence?”

“Nope. This is where he tosses your perverted, filthy little ass into the shower and cleans you up and makes a decent woman of ya.”

Laughing, she reaches down to pinch his butt. “Good luck with that!”

*****

The shower is a far cry from the one they’d shared in Dhaka; spacious with non-slip flooring, colourful mosaic tiles, and built-in seating. In Bangladesh the only luxury had been the presence of lukewarm water and clean towels bearing the slight scent of mildew. The space so small and cramped that it barely fit someone of his height and build, let alone two people; the shower head so low on the wall that he practically had to kneel to wash his hair. Six months later he sits on a built in bench thousands of miles away from that hell hole; Esme standing between his thighs as she works shampoo into his hair. His eyes closed as he relishes the attention and her mere touch and the sound of her voice; the light, cheerful humming that escapes her as her fingers scrub and massage his scalp. It’s a sign of contentment; a ‘quirk’ that she exhibits when she’s relaxed and feeling safe in her surroundings.

The bathing…the grooming…it’s all a form of intimacy neither have ever experienced before. Not able to recall a time where they’ve been that comfortable with another person; somehow comfortable enough to fully expose their bodies -flaws and all- to each other outside of sexual interaction. And there’s something so beautiful and pure about it; the trust level displayed as hands move over skin as they soap and rinse each other’s bodies.

Her humming ceases. “So it’s a yes, then? About Colorado?”

“If it’s something you feel like you really need to do, then yeah. We’ll go.”

“We did talk about it in Dhaka. About how you’d come to visit me there. About how we'd play tourist; see the mountains, go snowboarding at a few different places, go into Aspen and hang out with the rich folk. I know a lot’s changed since we talked about all that, but…”

“You don’t have to try and sweeten the pot. If all we do when we go there is meet your folks and your brothers, that's okay too. Whatever you feel you need to do, I’ll support you. I got your back. You know that.”

“I do. And I appreciate it. The fact that you’ll happily kick someone’s ass to defend my honour.”

“I can’t promise it won’t get me in trouble though. That I’ll be able show restraint if they start their shit. Better make sure there’s money in the bank in case you need to bail my ass out of jail.”

“Now that’s love,” she chides, and runs a soapy fingertip down his nose; tapping it against the tip and leaving a small pile of suds behind. “A man that’s willing to catch an assault charge for you.”

“Remember, I know how to make things look like an accident. And how to clean the scene up afterwards. So if mummy dearest really pushes her luck…”

“Baby, you really know how to bring the A plus dirty talk. First assault? Now murder? You better watch yourself. I might jump you right here.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“She probably will cause issues, you know.” Grabbing a hold of the removable shower head, she uses it to rinse his hair; fingers of the free hand moving through the longer strands. “She can’t help herself. Being a bitch just comes naturally to her. At least when I’m around, anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re even related? Because I don’t understand how someone like her manages to give birth to someone like you.”

“I wish we weren’t, believe me. I wish I could say she’s the evil stepmother that wandered into my life and made it an absolute living hell. But sadly, no. We’re related. By blood. Not that I like to actually admit that. Who wants to be related to someone that’s spent your entire life reminding you what a mistake you are.”

“I’m starting to have second thoughts.” He runs his hands over his wet, soapy face as she returns the shower head to its resting place. “About going there. Because if she’s going to start that kind of shit in front of me, I WILL end up in jail.”

“I’ve tried for years, you know. Putting her in her place. Standing up for myself. It only made things way worse. I mean, not that Mark helped at all. He’d just laugh about all the mean shit she said. Or join in. And then pull the old ‘oh, we’re just joking, Esme. Stop being such a baby’. He used to…” She chews pensively on her bottom, then gives an apologetic smile. “I said I wouldn't do that. I promised it. That I wouldn’t talk about him. With you.”

“And I told you that you didn’t need to. That I didn’t mind. You can’t pretend he wasn’t part of your life. You were married to the guy.”

“Don’t remind me. Not my best life decision that’s for sure. I just worry, I guess. When it comes to talking about him. I don’t want to bother you with that stuff. It’s not the most pleasant topic of conversation.”

“Does it bother you when I talk about my past?” He grimaces as he stands; stiffness across his lower back and lingering issues with his right knee. And while chronic pain has been a part of his life for years, it’s ramped up both in ferocity and intensity; the injuries suffered in Dhaka far more serious than anything he’d ever experienced, and taking longer than expected to fully heal. And he often wonders if he’ll ever get there; even to the level of health and well being that he’d been at before he’d ever stepped foot in Bangladesh.

“Of course not.”

Large, strong hands on her hips gently manoeuvre her closer to the stream of water. “You always tell me I should talk about that stuff, yeah?”

“Because it’s good for you. You’d been alone for a long time. Before I came along. You spent a lot of years getting a lot of shit inside.”

“And so have you.” Reaching for the bottle of hotel supplied shampoo, he dumps a small amount into the palm of his hand and raises it to his face, scowling at the scent.

“Sorry,” Esme gives a sheepish smile. “It’ll have to do.”

“Definitely not as good as the usual stuff.”

“I know how much you love that stuff. I didn’t leave it at home to hurt your feelings. I really did just forget to pack it.”

“Shit like that is how YOU end up on the couch.”

“You’d never banish me to the couch. You like snuggling too much.”

He stares down at her pointedly.

“I like snuggling too much,” she corrects herself. “You just humour me. Can I just say how sweet it is that you love the smell of my shampoo that much? I think it’s so…”

“Don’t you say it. Don’t you dare call me the ‘c’ word.”

“C word? Cunt? That’s not nice. I’d never call you that.”

Smirking, he runs a palm over her hair; smearing the shampoo onto her dark tresses. “Back to what we were talking about…”

“Do we really have to make a return trip?” Closing her eyes, she drops her chin to her chest; enjoying the way his fingers move through her hair and massage her scalp. “ He’s not the most pleasant of subjects.”

‘When have you ever had someone to talk to? About Mark? Before me?”

“It’s not the same thing. As you talking about your past stuff. What man really wants to hear about their girlfriend’s ex?”

“I mean, if he was some upstanding citizen and you were bragging about him all the time and expecting me to be just like him, then we’d have a problem.”

“You have full permission to shoot me in the head if I ever expect something as stupid as that. It just seems weird; talking about him. Isn’t that the kind of thing that breaks relationships? Talking about exes?”

“We started our relationship with you sticking your fingers through a bullet wound in my neck to keep me alive. I think it’s safe to say that nothing can break it. If we can survive that…”

“That’s a very valid point.”

“I just don’t want you thinking you can’t talk about him. That somehow it’ll bother me if you do.”

“It just seems like a lot to burden someone with. I’m trying to put my past behind me. So I can have a present. And a future. Talking about him…”

“Won’t keeping shit back just make things worse? Aren’t you always telling me that? That the more I keep inside, the more damage I’m doing? And don’t even try to say it’s somehow different. Because it’s not. Isn’t talking about shit supposed to be therapeutic? That’s what you’re always going on about. How getting crap off your chest helps.”

“You know just when I start to wonder if you’re actually paying attention to me when I talk…”

“I’m always listening. Even when it seems like I’m annoyed as fuck and I’d rather be talking about anything else. You can talk about him. It doesn’t bother me, itt doesn’t get on my nerves, it doesn’t bore me, it doesn’t make me angry.”

“Not angry even in the slightest?”

“Not at you. I never get angry at you. Him? Well let’s just say I’ve fantasised about killing him many times. Many, many, many times.”

“I just don’t want you losing your shit. Remember the first time we talked about all of this? In Dhaka? You were ready to hunt Mark down. You were ready to find out where he lives, jump on the first plane, go to his house, and beat him within an inch of his life.”

“I wasn’t going to beat him within an inch of his life. I was going to kill him.”

“Stop talking like that. Stop going all big, bad, mercenary man. You know it gives my vagina a heartbeat.”

“You say that about a lot of things. Even my accent. Maybe I shouldn’t just talk at all.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. I mean, there’s other more important things you can do with that mouth.”

Smirking, he lays a hand on the back of her head and gently pushes her towards the shower head. “Rinse.”

Once more closing her eyes, she ducks her head under the stream of water; releasing a long, content sigh as his hands move through her hair. So large and strong with their calloused fingertips and palms; capable of inflicting such pain and destruction, yet possessing a tenderness that only she is privy to. His touch soothing as he cares for her; long digits -with their scarred and misshapen knuckles- slipping slowly through her wet tresses. Showing remarkable restraint and tenderness when encountering any knots; gently and repeatedly tugging until the strands are free of their tangles. Something so simple yet so beautiful; an unspeakable love and adoration that is enough to bring tears to her eyes. So many years spent being treated with anything but affection and kindness it’s often overwhelming; so used to degrading names and abusive hands that she’s often not sure how to react to the opposite.

“All I’m saying is that you can talk about him.” Tyler reaches around her to turn off the flow of water. “It may make me want to commit murder..…”

“I’d rather you not go to jail, okay? I know you have your ways of making these types of things look like an accident and that you’re very good at not leaving any trace of yourself behind, but…”

“...but I’d rather rein in my homicidal tendencies than you drive yourself crazy keeping all that shit inside.” Briefly cradling her cheeks in his palms, he turns her face up towards him; pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before using his fingertips to clean any remaining suds and water out of her eyes. “Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Every single one.”

Gathering her hair in both hands, “You’ve listened to my shit. When it comes to my past. Even the really ugly stuff. I doubt anything you’ve got tucked away is worse than that.”

“I don’t really have anything tucked away. Everything there is to know about Mark, you already know.”

“Something tells me that’s not entirely true. But…” Sliding open the shower curtain, he reaches for one of the bath sheets stacked neatly on the back of the toilet; using a corner of it to dry her face before wrapping it around her body. “...when you’re ready to tell me, you know where to find me.”

“I’m not keeping anything from you,” she insists, as enormous hats down her arms, shoulders, and back. “I have no reason to. Why would I…”

“Sometimes we keep shit back because we’re scared. Or maybe it’s just too painful to talk about. It’s okay, Me. I get it.”

The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. “What did you just call me?”

“I don’t know…” A blush creeps into his cheeks; visible through his tan as the colour slowly travels upwards towards the tips of his ears. “...what do you think I just called you?”

“Me. You called me, Me.”

“It’s horrible, yeah? Too cheesy? I’m trying here. With this whole being in love thing. With how to say it and show it and all that. I’m trying not to be such a hard ass all the time. I don’t want to be that way with you. I don’t want to be…I don’t know…mercenary Tyler. It’s stupid? The nickname? It’s too much? You don’t like it?”

“No,” she says, as she stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “I love it.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake x OFC

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istratasphere · 4 months

Note

Me when I get to pester you about your gay people :o

3 for Khevashase, 1 for Lavandreas, and 15 for Sollos

Ohhhh bestie this may have been such a mistake on your part I’m so so sorry for the amount of word there is djskskak

{Khevashase}

3. What is their Love Language

For all three of them, physical touch ranks the highest on their lists. They were all very physically affectionate people before they met each other and once they fell into a group together it just increased exponentially. Touch is something that occurs almost as naturally and as often as breathing for them, it’s a comfort and a reassurance and an expression of love that they crave and provide for each other in an environment that rarely allows for such gentle things. The rare moments of downtime they have are spent more or less entirely entangled with one another, which you can interpret in several of ways and be correct in all of them.

Their individual secondary love languages would be words of affirmation for Ase, quality time for Khelvana, and acts of service for Vasha. All of which are connected to various deeply personal aspects of the self, naturally.

{Lavandreas}

1. Who fell first? Who fell harder?

Hddkskj me when these guys ever 💕💗✨💖💕 decided to collab with Andreas’s creator/player on this one for a thorough and authentic answer so here it is <3

Andreas fell first, Lavael fell harder.

“It was a long and arduous road before they even remotely started tolerating each other but Andreas cracked first once he started to see past the facade of arrogance and vanity Lavael presented with. Discarding the extravagance and the hostility and letting the more genuine and sincere parts of himself shine through, unintentionally as it was in the beginning, won Andreas over faster than he’d ever be willing to admit. It’s hard not to fall for someone who turned out to be so fiercely caring and remarkably kind underneath it all. It’s hard not to love a person who’s as radiant as the sun.” -Bo

Lavael undoubtedly fell harder, as their relationship progressed through the initial period of loathing, into friendship, and to the point of genuine affection for one another it completely wrecked his shit!! Andreas completely changed the trajectory of his life, filling a void that he had tried desperately to fill for years to no avail. Experiencing unconditional love for who he was—flaws, damage, and all—for the first time left him absolutely reeling in a way that he was completely unprepared to deal with. He’s so far gone for this man, he’d give up everything he has, everything he’s built without hesitation if Andreas asked it of him. Andreas managed to bypass every single roadblock and obstacle Lavael had set to keep people from getting too close and lodged himself like a knife into Lavael’s heart. <3

{Sollos}

15. How do they comfort one another when the other is upset?

Bellos is the kind of person who needs to talk through things when he’s upset. Speaking it out and verbally expressing things helps him sort through his feelings and helps him process what’s causing the problem and how he might be able to address it so he’s not staying upset. Solstice knows the best thing he can possibly do is ask what Bellos needs from him in the moment and listen. He’ll immediately set aside whatever he was doing prior so he can be fully present and there for Bellos while he’s sorting through things. In the event that the normal method doesn’t work, Solstice will offer physical contact because sometimes your minotaur just needs to be held for an extended period of time in a purely Platonic™ way until he feels better.

Solstice on the other hand tends to need something to distract him when he’s upset. His brain will easily fixate on the bad thing for as long as it possibly can if he doesn’t have something to pull his attention away from it, so engaging activities are sort of Bellos’ go to method for helping soothe Solstice when he’s upset. Solstice is a creative and an artistic fiend so Bellos has found that giving him a little arts and crafts project to work on is a surefire way to help pull him out of a spiral and more easily regulate how he’s feeling. He’s also well aware that he’s Solstice’s favorite canvas at this point so he’s more than happy to offer up his horns or coat and let Solstice go ham with the carving tools or pigments for a little while.

#beloved guys eating away at the brain so bad #I am plagued by unceasing feelings about all of them #got my ass so bad with the Lavandreas one bestie those are THE guys 💕💖✨💝💕💗✨#Khevashase #Lavandreas #Sollos #ask and ye shall receive

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