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hisunshiine · 9 months

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—it’s the way that you can ride [3/7]

Part 3 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 4,622 🗓️warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, second-hand embarrassment, enter Kim Seokjin as an antagonist, Jungkook is so hot but his feelings are too big, angsty cliffhanger explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, light bondage, talks of a safeword, oral (m & f receiving), discussion of safeword, Jungkook is whiny, positions of 69, face riding, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, and jack-hammer, biting, multiple orgasms, creampie. 🗓️an: part 3!!! I apologize in advance for the ending cliffhanger, but hey, it's the angst that makes the story, amirite? 😭 🗓️summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

The smell of antiseptic cleaner might be pungent to some, but for Jungkook, it’s non-existent. He sits in the hallway of the unit, typing away at one of the portable computers used to write up notes on patients. He picked up a shift to help balance the few days he plans to take off for Yoongi’s wedding, and once he gets off at 2 PM, he plans to head straight to your place so he can figure out an outfit formal enough to wear to the wedding.

“Hey, Jungkook, you finished your DAR notes fast. In a hurry? It’s a little early for you to be rushing off to get your fix,” Dr. Kim Seokjin teases him as he approaches, scrolling through a tablet.

“Actually, I am headed there, but not for what you’re thinking, nosy.” Jungkook puts the finishing touches on the last patient’s notes. He’s proud to say he carried out all of his assigned responses to patient action plans Dr. Kim assigned, and once his relief shows up, they’ll reap the benefits of all his hard work on day shift. “I have to finalize my formal outfit for Yoongi’s wedding.”

“You don’t know what you’re wearing yet? I’m surprised you aren’t wearing matching outfits with a certain someone…actually, I’m waiting on when it will be her walking down the aisle to you.”

“Seokjin, fuck off.” Jungkook knows he’s being sensitive, but right now, he’s confused and stressed about this wedding.

“Listen, you guys need to come clean to Yoongi, and then come clean to each other. It doesn’t take a doctor to diagnose you both as lovesick.”

“Seriously, hyung. It’s…complicated.”

Jungkook is about to elaborate, but just then, another voice chimes in.

“What’s complicated? Do you need help?” SoHee bounds into view from behind Seokjin, her hair braided and scrubs a soft pink to compliment the light blush dusting her cheekbones.

“Nothing.”

“Jungkook here’s thinking about bringing a plus one to Yoongi’s wedding. Hey, you’re going aren’t you?” Seokjin spills, making Jungkook huff out an angry exhale.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be there!” SoHee shares. “Yoongi invited quite a few of us from the school. To be honest, I think it was to get a larger haul of wedding gifts. I guess if I bring a plus one, we could split the gift…”

Seokjin laughs, but Jungkook just chuckles, feeling a little awkward.

“Well, maybe you can go to the wedding as Jungkook’s date?”

“Hyung.” Jungkook shoots a burning stare at Seokjin, but he ignores it, continuing to push the agenda.

“You’re not going with anyone yet, and SoHee here is a perfect option. Unless you have someone in mind?” Seokjin gives Jungkook a challenging stare.

“I mean, I would love to go with you, SoHee,” he answers, looking to her eager face, “I just have to make sure of some things. I’ll let you know, though, okay?”

“Of course, Jungkook! I look forward to hearing from you.”

A page sounds off over the speakers on the floor, and Jungkook glances at the clock, seeing he’s free to escape Seokjin and his terrible attempt at prescribing a cure for his diagnosis. He bids farewell to SoHee, but Seokjin follows him towards the staff lounge. Once they’re alone, Jungkook rounds on him.

“Are you insane? Now SoHee is going to expect me to take her on Sunday!”

“And? I thought you liked her?”

“I do, but it's complicated, like I said.”

“Just…think about it. SoHee is totally into you and willing to take it to the next step. I know you’re enjoying your sexcapades, but don’t you want more?” Jungkook just shrugs before pulling off his scrubs to change back into his street clothes. Seokjin sighs, shaking his head as he turns to leave. “I can prescribe something for your emotional constipation if that would be better?”

“Fuck off, Jin!”

Music plays loudly as you search your closet for something to wear. You bought a few formal pieces, making sure to keep the tags on until you make a final decision on a dress, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you know exactly why you have yet to make a decision. The sound of your door opening as Jungkook lets himself in with his spare key (because who wants to get up out of a comfy bed every night to let in a horny muscle bunny just to get back into said bed?) reminds you to stop being honest with yourself and continue to lie; it’s easier that way.

“Babe, I’m here and I have, like, seven different tie options. Help.” Jungkook appears in your bedroom doorway with a vinyl-zippered garment bag and another small bag clutched tightly in his hand.

“Seven options? They had that big of a variety when looking for eucalyptus and sage?” You reach for the smaller bag, guessing correctly that it held various ties in the shades mentioned. “Wow, color me surprised.”

“No, go color yourself eucalyptus or sage so we can make sure these tie colors are suitable.” Jungkook orders you back towards your closet while he begins to shrug off his hoodie.

“What color suits are you debating between?” you call out as you step into the silky sage dress. It’s a little too frilly for your liking, making you feel younger than you like. 2004 is calling and they want their clothing back.

“I have a navy blue, a black, and a grey suit,” he responds, and you tell him to try them on one at a time, sans tie, to see which one looks and feels the best first. Then you’ll help him narrow down the tie options from there.

Stepping out of the closet, you hug your dress to your chest and ask Jungkook to zip you up. He does so, but his response to the dress is just so-so. You knew before you put it on that you probably were not going with this one, and his reaction only solidifies that. The navy blue tuxedo on Jungkook is nice, but upon close inspection, the jacket button sits a little too high, making his torso look shorter than it is.

“Okay, let’s see the black one. This one is a little too tight now that your chest has grown.”

Shimmying out of the dress, you return to grab a floral print dress with shades of lichen green sprinkled all throughout. It’s body-con and knee-length, and missing that umph that you want in a formal dress, but you didn’t have many options in the colors Yoongi chose.

“That’s better than the sage one.” Jungkook appraises you, but you can tell this one is not right for you either.

“I have a few more, but I think I know which one will work best.” Eyeing Jungkook’s black slacks, you stop him before he puts on the jacket. “ No. Definitely not. The pants are high-waters, did you get that thing when you were in high school?”

Jungkook’s ears turn red as he ignores your question, and you realize you hit the nail on the head.

“I mean…maybe?” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay, last suit. Hopefully it fits, or we’re running to the mall.” Back in the closet, you reach for the hanger of the dress you really love. It’s a eucalyptus-colored floor-length gown, with an A-line cut, spaghetti straps, and a thigh slit. You try to zip up the dress as far as you can, but you don’t want to ruin the presentation by walking out just yet. “Jungkook, can you zip me in here, please?”

His slippered feet shuffle along the carpet as he steps into the dim closet, fingers warm where they skim your back as he closes the dress. You shoo him back out into your well-lit bedroom before gracefully walking out on tip-toes. Jungkook lets out a wolf-whistle.

“Damn, you have to wear that. You look like a goddess.” You can tell he’s not lying or offering flattery for no reason. His eyes are a portal into his true thoughts and he’s shit at lying. A giddy feeling fills your chest, reminiscent of puppy love. “Okay, now me.”

You look up at him and the soft grey of the suit complements his honey-glazed skin well. You have him spin in a slow circle, and despite the pants being slightly snug, you know that’s not something you can fix without a tailor on short notice—the man has a nice ass and with his slim waist and long legs…It looks good.

“Perfect.” Your voice is almost a whisper as you step into his orbit, hand reaching for the ties to see which one looks best. Jungkook is still, letting you color match his suit and he thinks you’re also subtly seeing which one matches the color of your dress as well. He wishes for the umpteenth time that he could just…convince you to say what you’re thinking at this moment. Why don’t you tell him that you want to match? That you want to be his plus one? He’s sure that’s what your actions mean. So why don’t you ever tell him?

“Are you sure? Maybe I shouldn’t wear this color, you know?” Jungkook asks timidly, testing. “Your brother really wants us all in his wedding colors?”

“Yes, he explicitly said we had to wear the colors. They won’t have bridesmaids or groomsmen—you know Yoongi and his minimalist agenda, but his fiancé still wants to have wedding photos with all of us, so we have to coordinate.” You pout as you answer him, fixing the tie as you finish the last loop and pull through. “Why? You don’t want to match with me?” The way your eyes look at him, all wide-eyed and lovey-dovey has him backpedaling.

“Babe, you know I do, I would choose to match with you even if we didn’t have to.” Jungkook finds himself admitting, and kicking himself in the ass if he could, for revealing way too much about how he feels about you, without anything in return. Well, the way the furrow between your brows disappears and your pout turns into a cute smile is definitely a reward, but it’s not the same.

You turn, asking him to unzip you again, and then you shuffle back into the closet to disrobe from the dress. He wishes he could see you wear it for a little longer, because you look so gorgeous in it, but he knows that this isn’t his last chance. He shucks off the suit, carefully placing the pants and jacket back into the garment bag. Lying it down flat, he leaves it open so he can still add the shirt and tie. He admires the color of the fabric, a soft but bright green that compliments his honey skin well, the satin pinched between his fingers.

“Let me.”

Jungkook turns back to face you at the sound of your voice, freezing when he sees you’re only in your strapless bra and thong. Not that he’s in any better of a situation; he’s in boxer briefs and a white button-down shirt.

You tug at the tie, gently pulling the longer piece to allow it to slip off from around his neck, Jungkook ducking his head to help you guide it free. Dropping the tie on top of the suit jacket, he feels the way your fingers, warm and light, touch his stomach as you undo each button, starting from the bottom of the shirt. Your eyes never leave his, and he swears he barely blinks—you’re like a siren calling to him, keeping him in place.

“You bought all of these ties, Ggukkie. And only that one will be used.” You nod towards the garment bag, hands finally reaching the collar of his shirt. “What will you do with the rest?”

“I-uh, I think I’ll save them. Can use them for other formal things. You know?” Jungkook can’t think of any other occasion that he would wear a tie, other than another wedding (his to you, perhaps?) or possibly his funeral—the look in your eyes is like you want to eat him alive, and he’s more than willing to go out that way.

“Hmm, I can think of a few uses for them.” Your hands slip under the shirt where it sits on his shoulders, gliding the sleeves down his arms. His tattooed arm slowly reveals itself, a sight he knows you enjoy seeing.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Jungkook knows he’s going to like your idea. You work in a school, and teachers are always pretty creative; this isn’t his first time letting that beautiful brain of yours run wild with him. He can feel his boxer briefs tightening in a specific area as his excitement grows.

“Let me show you.” Jungkook follows your lead, allowing himself to be placed in the center of your bed. You climb off briefly to pull two ties from the bag and pop off their tags. You make sure to choose two of a softer satin fabric, since he can’t return them now. You climb back on and return to straddling him. Your core is warm through the thin cotton of your thong, and Jungkook can’t control the slight jump of his dick when you settle on top and lean forward.

“Hand.” You kiss each of his fingers delicately before pressing a kiss to his palm. Placing his hand against the headboard, you thread the tie through the cutouts and secure his wrist in place with a bow. “Other hand.” Jungkook’s doe eyes are wide as he watches you follow the same routine on this hand, hitching him so he sits like a scarecrow against the frame.

“Let me know if at any time it hurts and you want to stop, okay?” Your hand rests on his cheek, cupping it gently as your eyes search for any signs of fear or wanting to back out.

“I know, babe. Safeword is Velveeta.”

You giggle, climbing off of him so you can move his garment bag a safe distance away. “I can’t believe you chose that as the safeword.”

“Have you heard the way you sound when you get super wet? It’s like Velveeta mac and cheese, you know?”

“And why is that what you equate to a safeword?”

“Because, when I want to feel safe or need comfort, I need to be inside you.”

Jungkook watches your reaction, the way your footsteps falter momentarily as you return back to the bed where he’s sitting patiently, waiting for you. You don’t say anything more, you just pause at the edge of the bed, your hooded eyes only on him.

Your hands reach behind you, undoing the clasps of your bra so that it falls to the carpeted floor. Your thong drops next to join it in a scant pile that you leave behind to climb back on the bed. Returning to straddling him, you press your chest against his as your hands frame his face. You run your nose along his slowly, bringing your lips to his forehead in an act of closeness so much deeper than sexual—at least to Jungkook it is.

He strains his hands against the ties, already seeking to touch you, hold you, secure you to him. He tilts his head up, seeking your lips instead and you kiss him fully, several pecks before it deepens into a wet, tangle of tongues. Both of you moan; you rock your hips over his clothed cock and he wants to cry because he can’t feel you the way he wants to. Not yet, at least.

“I’m gonna taste you, yeah?” you breathe out into his mouth, and he nods, eyes blown as he watches you lower your body until your head hovers over his lap. He can see the sheen you left behind on the black fabric, a thin oval shape that glistens from your fresh arousal. You pull at the waistband, hands cheekily grazing his cheeks as you reveal him.

He’s somewhat hard, naturally, and pants in anticipation as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs. He’ll never get over the feeling you give him when you admire his length. He’s sure he’s told you before, but no one cherishes his cock the way you do. He feels all but one muscle relax as your mouth envelops his tip, all soft and wet, warm and comforting like your pussy—a great alternative, he thinks.

If the first moment you taste him relaxes him, the moments ensuing are the opposite, causing his muscles to expand and contract as your sinful mouth glides up and down along his shaft. It’s low-key infuriating for Jungkook that you make him feel this good and he can’t even touch you.

The headboard creaks slightly and you narrow your gaze in warning, mouth stuffed full of his length and unable to reprimand him. Jungkook lets out a series of chuffs at the scene spread before him: you, naked and drooling into his lap with eyes cutting into his soul for the simple fact that he wants to reward you with touches for the way your throat, mouth, and tongue treat his prized possession.

“Please, babe, wanna touch you too,” he whines out, hoping to appeal to your nurturing side. And it does work. Kind of. He watches (he can’t do much else) as you pop off his cock with that lewd sound he so enjoys hearing your lips make against the tip, and crawl back up his body. Your chest is heaving slightly as you fill your lungs, but you ignore all attempts by Jungkook to nip at you with his own lips.

“Scooch down,” you demand, and he listens well like a pupil as you guide his wrists and ties down to the bottom edge in turn. You have to get off the bed to go to the end, wrapping your soft hands around his ankles and pulling him so he slides across your sheets, arms mostly extended. “Only because you’ve been good, and I don’t want to risk you breaking my headboard.”

Jungkook is a little confused at how laying flat is a reward, as it makes it harder for him to watch you, until you climb back onto the bed facing the opposite direction. “Fuck, yes,” he practically sings, but you just shake your head with a smile as you grip his hard-on in your fist.

“Let’s see how well you keep your focus, baby.” It’s a taunt that you pair with a shake of your hips before lowering your glistening pussy lips to his waiting mouth. Jungkook loves how turned on you get just by sucking his cock, wants to taste the arousal created just for him, by him, and loves a good challenge.

His mouth is open when you nestle yourself against him, tongue out and lips ready to make out with you. You squeeze him in your palm, a whimper as your back arches from the heat of his mouth and Jungkook has to lift his head a bit to chase your movements. “Don’t run, wanna make you feel good, too.”

He hears you take a deep breath, breasts rubbing against his lower abdomen as you lick at him before dropping your hips once more. Jungkook resumes his feasting, spurred on by the little sounds you make as you rock back and forth on his face. He loves that you’ve split your knees on either side of his shoulders; he can’t use his hands to hold you wide, but you do a great job keeping your pussy open for him to tease with his tongue.

The switch between who is dominating who is fast—he knows that you must’ve been aching and throbbing between your thighs before letting him touch you, and now you’re closer to climax than he is. It’s also Jungkook’s specialty; what can he say? He likes to eat.

When you catch your rhythm on his face, you lose your rhythm with your mouth, instead using your hands to stroke him as you sit up higher and higher. Your left hand grips his thigh, right hand stroking him in time as Jungkook groans from below you. He loves when you do this: give in to the pleasure and suffocate him, and almost whines in despair when you lift up to check-in.

“Can you breathe? Am I killing you?”

“If you don’t sit back down on my face and let me eat this pussy—mmphh.”

Jungkook doubles down his efforts, dropping and raising his chin in order to lick you from top to bottom and when you adjust slightly so he can access your clit, he gently suckles it as your thighs shake and you cry out his name.

“Fuck, Jungkook—holy fuck!”

You collapse onto him, laying your head on his pelvis as your body shivers from the aftershocks.

“And you thought I would lose focus,” he jokes, but you seem to take it seriously.

“Ah, you’re right. You didn’t get to finish. I got you.”

“Hey, you know I never have to cum, just making sure you get off makes me feel good.” Jungkook hates that you might think this is just a sex exchange, needs you to know it’s more than that. You sit up and shift around, body moving to align with his.

“And I like knowing I made you feel good.” You kiss him deeply with tongue. “We’re perfect that way, huh?”

Jungkook wishes more than once that he could say what he wants to say. That you’re perfect for each other—probably soulmates—bets he’s met you in another life. Instead, no words come out of his mouth as you face away from him. You throw a mischievous smile over your shoulder before you spit in your hand and grasp him, moving to hover over his pelvis.

“You’re actually mean for this,” he says, watching as you sink onto him, and he’s able to watch your lips part around his cock, stretching to fit his girth until you bottom out. Your cute ass hides the view until you lift up again, revealing the glistening trails of cum that decorate his veins and he can’t stop himself from pulling at the ties. Jungkook just wants to help guide you, wants to put his hands on your cheeks and spread them apart so he can see the stretch of your pussy as you ride him, maybe even press his thumb to your puckered hole, watch as that shiver runs down your spine in ecstasy.

“Safeword?” Your concern shows in your tone and the way you slow your movements.

“Don’t need it, just wanna fucking touch you.” He would hate how whiney he sounds if he didn’t know you thrived off it—can feel it in the way you clench for him.

“If you use it, I’ll release you from your shackles…” you counter, and how dare you giggle at Jungkook, knowing using the safe word gives him what he wants, but he’ll never use it with you. How can he when he feels his safest right now, balls deep.?

“It’s fine,” he grits out, bucking his hips to get you to move again, ride him again, but you don’t. Instead, you rise up, keeping just the tip in until you are able to rotate around and face him. You look torn, teeth worrying your bottom lip about whether to untie him or not, safe word be damned. “Don’t do it unless you want to.”

Jungkook watches the debate swirl in your eyes, before you reach up and tug at the bow ends, letting him free from his confines. Instantly, his hands move to your body, fingers wrapping around your ribs as his thumbs settle under your breasts before moving down to trace the outline to your hips. With a firm tug, he seats you once more, a groan of curse words slipping out. You’re still so wet from the mixture of his spit and your own orgasm spread along his shaft that he slides into you like a glove, nestled tight between your walls.

Small hands press to his chest, and your thumbs rub circles around his nipples as you begin to ride him, pussy walls quenching the thirst for you as he fights to keep his eyes open so he can watch your tits bounce in his face.

“That’s it, baby, ride my cock,” he encourages, “only you ride me this good, fuck—so good for me.”

You smile at his praise, moving to lay chest to chest so you can really roll your hips, sheathing and unsheathing him in rapid succession. The clapping of your skin against his fills the room, creating a harmonious sound paired with the heavy breathing and sweet murmurs and whines. Jungkook feels his control slipping as his hands grasp your cheeks and spread them, allowing him to reach deeper inside of you. He feels the flutters that let him know you’re so close to a second orgasm, so he plants his feet into your mattress and begins to jackhammer up into your aching cunt.

Your teeth press into his shoulder, cries muffled, but he keeps going, even after he feels you contract and release, wetness pooling below his belly button as he gets closer and closer to joining you.

“Jungk—shit, shit, I’m—”

He’s not expecting you to cum for a third time, didn’t realize his repetitive stroke to keep him in your pleasure longer would catapult you, so when you do—and hard at that—it takes him as well. His cock throbbing from how hard he fills you up, cum milking in spurts that leak out around his cock as he fucks you through the best of it until neither of you can take anymore.

—————

Jungkook’s left hand plays with the strands of your hair as you sleep on his chest. His cellphone’s brightness is turned all the way down so as not to disturb your beauty rest. Not that Jungkook thinks you need it. His smile from the thought of your beauty fades as he focuses back on his phone. There’s a tightness in his chest under your head that isn’t stemming from the pressure of your body.

He knows he hasn’t done anything wrong, in fact—he’s very much within his rights to do whatever he wants, with whoever he wants, but the only person he wants to do things with is you. It actually makes him a little irritated that he shouldn’t feel guilty. He wants a good reason to turn away any and all advances women (and even some men) make on him.

When everyone knows you’re single, it’s a bit harder to say no to dates with people. Especially if it’s someone Jungkook might’ve been interested in at one point in time. How does he explain that he can’t give someone else a chance because he’s holding out for you? That he’s too busy building his own courage to tell you that he wants you, to let another person (like the girl texting him) into your spot?

He scrolls through the messages SoHee left him while he was busy fucking you into the mattress during round two after a break to rest and refuel with Korean BBQ takeout and a Netflix movie.

stay tuned for “so break me off another night” coming 8-10-2023!

#bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #bangtanwhq #btscreaturescoven #btsafterdarknet #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook writings #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #seven days series

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rebouks · 11 months

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Okay! Time to spill the tea, except it's not really tea, it's more like lukewarm juice aka my future plans and some more ramblings.. ahem ⚆_⚆

First of all, I wanna say just how much I enjoyed creating Somnium. It all started during lockdown... I found myself working from home full-time, I had the perfect excuse to be the homebody I was born to be, I had a lot of time on my hands, and once I found simblr I couldn't resist joining in. It didn't take too long before I decided to hop on the storytelling train and before I knew it, I had a new hobby! Except.. that hobby kinda consumed me. I didn't even know where it was going to begin with, but the more involved I got, the more obsessed I became. Hyperfixations amirite?

The point being.. I think I spent a little too much time on Somnium, which left me little time for much else and I don't want to fall down that hole again. In the future I'd like to challenge my perfectionism! What does that mean? Well, it means not making poses for every scene, it means not being restricted by a complicated overarching plot that requires forced filler scenes and timelines and needs to make sense, it means less dialogue, or gasp! no dialogue at all, it means not getting hung up on continuity with editing and g-shade and font style and blah blah etc etc. I'd even like to incorporate some gameplay too, since I miss just.. playing now n' then.

I want the freedom to think of something silly, or weird, or completely off topic and to be able to run with it instead of being bound by a plot that needs to progress. Am I making sense? I hope I'm making sense. Basically, I'm calling this next venture a "story not story" because rather than it having one large plot, it's going to be more like clusters of subplots with some gameplay, weirdness or silliness in between...

Forever In Between will kick off around about two years after the events of Somnium. Mostly focused on Oscar and his family, we'll join them on the journey of life as Robin and his siblings grow up in the Bay.

We'll also spend some time with other favourites too like Noah n' co. Salton, Ivan & Bruno, Suzie, Miya & [redacted] and Matilda, among others! Maybe we'll even see what Wyatt's up to at some point 👀 As we all know, life isn't always sunshine and rainbows, but Forever In Between (or fib for short) will be a lot less heavy, though hopefully no less interesting!

Obviously, I don't have any set plans but I have a few specific scenes and ideas in mind already, as well as some vague subplots planned for most, if not all of the main characters from Somnium.

Also! Although Oscar is very much still a main character, he'll be sharing the spotlight with Robin too, as I have a lot in mind for that special lil' guy.. tehe!

So, what's next?! I want to make a lil promo before I start and then I've gotta.. y'know, actually start working on it. I have the first few scenes in mind but then we're wingin' it baby! The best plan is no plan and all that... I'm being kind to myself though, so idk when we'll start, real soon though!

I've already given everyone makeovers and gotten a few of the main builds out of the way, enough for me to get started at least, and I'd like to make a new navigation/pinned post too.

I wanna be more organised as well, so story posts will be tagged as "forever in between" & "fib" and bloopers, extras, builds, cas pics etc etc. will be tagged as "fib" & "fib extras"!

Okay.. I think that's it. See you soon! 👋

#ramblings #ts4 #fib extras #??#KINDA #i'm so looking forward to my new unrestricted venture into everyone's life ahhhhkdjskdj #oh.. i also wrote a poem for my lil promo and it's the first poem i think i've ever written and i rlly like it ;-;#and it has so many meanings for what we'll see in the future!#omg #i'm excited #i hope you are too!!#<333333333 #ily

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googoobabajogwick · 1 year

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Hot Knife chpt.1

description: Trained as children at the Roma Ruska together to be partners, you and Jardani were bound to live a wild life together, just not in ways you’d expect.

What happens when after sixteen years of dating you break up and ten years after that Jardani, or should you say John, finds you and comes back with the one thing that still tied you to him.

Your marker.

triggers: Only putting major triggers such as; Lots of misogyny, talks of sex trafficking, trauma from sexual assault, smut and unhealthy coping mechanisms like drinking and drugs the reader is a bit unhinged. This chapter includes smut and talks of sexual assault and trafficking nothing too graphic. Lots of trauma

If ur watching the John Wick movies imma go ahead and assume you can handle what other stuff I have in here.

word count: 7k

mini authors note: this didn't at first contain spoilers but now it does but the only major spoilers from the movie aren't till later in the story like chapters 9 and 10. I posted this on my Ao3 (and tumblr but I didn’t rly try) up to chapter 8 but it’s on a mini hiatus bc I'm rewriting every chapter bc I'm crazy like that. Feel free to go read those but I will be reuploading the new chapters when I have them all done. Y’all get first peak…

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Chapter one: Hot Knife

You sat at the edge of your bed watching a violent movie where the woman was currently fighting back and winning. It brought a smile to your face. These types of movies always gave you different types of ideas to use when you were sent out on missions. Plus movies were the only thing keeping you preoccupied at the moment.

The Director had you confined to your room for “starting” a fight with one of her other students at the Ruska Roma. You were always getting in trouble but it's not your fault you're better than everyone else. It's also not your fault people are annoying and like to try you. That was just stupidity on their part.

You had been trained alongside the infamous Jardani Jovonovich, which meant you had just as much training as he did. On top of that you studied medicine from a young age with some guy appointed to you by The Director and were considered somewhat of a genius, so some may even say you were better than Jardani, but you had still only beaten him once in what was just supposed to be a sparring match.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you took a bite of your sandwich. The woman in the movie had died, typical of these movies. You wished Jardani would finish his stupid hit so he could entertain you. It should be any day now that he’d come home. You might even go as far as to say you missed him…

Your relationship was complicated. More on your end. Jardani’s wishes were very clear. He wanted to be with you. Of course you wanted to be with him… Maybe? Like you did but something in your head kept telling you no; That things would not work out, he’d get annoyed with you… Scared of you even…

That one made you laugh. The idea of scaring a man like him would make anyone who knew him laugh. Jardani had gotten to the point where he liked to act in private, like you two are dating even though you’re not. He cuddles with you, makes out with you all the time, calls you when he’s away to ask how your day has been. Sometimes multiple times a day. It gets people mad because he’s using up the direct line and others have calls to make!

The two of you have long, deep talks with one another, go out together, hell the two of you have photos of the both of you framed and up on the walls of your room. He’ll tell people he has to ask you before he does anything and you’ll say the same about him, this leaves everyone rolling their eyes. All Jardani wants is you and anything you’ll give him. He wanted to walk around holding hands and kissing you when he felt the urge, even in public, but you were scared. Scared deep down you’d hurt him.

When you beat him it was a couple weeks after the most horrible experience of your life. People don’t realize how much shit you get as a woman for being one of the only ones who was not subjected to being a ballerina, learning the graceful ways of murder rather than the brute force the men did. Also the title of the future second most talented and master assassin going to a woman didn’t sit well with the men. You just didn't belong anywhere you felt.

The girls and women there sneered at you and the boys and men mocked and belittled you. You tried to be nice, but you’d never let anyone walk all over you. Many tried to harass but many ended up getting some bones broken, except one boy, his name was Vladimir. It came out of nowhere, a whole plan created right under your nose.

You were smart and for him to trick you and Jardani with such ease, you’ll never know how he did. Your whole life you were taught not to trust anyone, the one person you knew you could trust was your partner. No matter what anyone told you, you’d always blame yourself for that time even though as a girl you were always a potential target for that kind of hate.

There were multiple men there, they said, though you only remembered one. It was a blitz attack they said. Five months you’d been gone they said. It was a betrayal they hadn’t seen coming, they said. They’re sorry they said but you couldn’t hear them. You continued to stare out the window, dissociated, hoping to never feel again. The leaves blew and whirled around in the breeze. You wished you could feel as free as them. Your forehead pressed against the cool glass in the infirmary.

It was supposed to be an easy and simple hit.

Any progress Jardani thought you two had made as partners felt as though it had been erased. He saw the pain in your eyes, the unshed tears as you pretended you were somewhere far, far away. Five months ago you’d be making fun of him for being so worried, five months ago you were starting to open up to him. Five months, five months, five fucking months.

He should have saved you sooner, in fact you should have never even been taken. The betrayal of Vladimir was rough. Nobody had seen it coming and Jardani beat himself up everyday for it. The nightmares of bright blue eyes were taking a toll on you. All your feistiness, all your grandiose nonsense, he’d give anything for you to smack him upside the head or call him an idiot again.

Instead you were a shell. For the first time he saw a fifteen year old little girl. Someone who didn’t belong in all this nonsense, the girl you always tried to hide. Jardani was the only male you allowed anywhere near you. He was patient though, sitting at the end of your bed every night to make sure when your inevitable screams would come it was his face you’d wake up too and not a needle to sedate you.

He made you feel safe. Even in your most vulnerable; Clothes ripped up, hair matted, malnourished, beaten, bleeding and violated. You never understood how he made you feel this way. As you stood in the corner of that cold, horrible room, Jardani’s eyes seemed so familiar, you knew that no matter what he’d never hurt you, and he never did.

Jardani killed him. Vladimir. He beat him to death, in front of you with his bare hands, making sure that the older boy suffered but the others got away. Without any names though every lead fell dead. You refused to give him names but not because you didn’t want him to kill them, but because you didn’t want to think about it.

You had so many cuts and bruises when he found you cowering in the corner with a knife in your hand. When he asked, you told him you got it off Vladimir during all the commotion— in which you found out was him and other people from the Roma Ruska killing everyone— The now dead student had cut a ‘V’ into your shoulder leaving a scar as a forever reminder of the violation and dignity you lost.

Stuck with physical and invisible scars as strong reminders of your trauma it was no surprise your first day back to training was not good and it was the only time you've ever beaten Jardani. He had always been stronger than you in strength and more talented. Once you’d even compared the both of you to Mozart and Beethoven.

Where one was a natural prodigy the other had their talents forced onto them when they were young by their father. Jardani laughed at that and proceeded to call you Beethoven for a month. He was an expert at fighting even at sixteen, skilled and experienced. You learned how to fight from your father but even he wasn’t an expert but he did teach you how to get your way.

The Russian Hunter.

That’s what the media called him and it wasn’t even true. Your father was a proud Ukrainian and hated being called Russian. He owned the house when he moved to America with you at five years old and your mother. The small cabin-like house sat on a huge one hundred thirty acre piece of land. You and your father used to go hunting and camping together in the woods. It was how you bonded.

The two of you were so close and you knew he loved you. By the time the New York Police discovered he was literally hunting people deep into the forest, you had known but didn’t know what to do. Everything told you to call the police but you were twelve and he was your papa. Your mother had always wanted a son. You’d never think a father who liked to hunt and was so stereotypically masculine was happy to have a daughter.

He taught you how to shoot a gun, hunt, skin a buck, survive in the wild and off the grid, to slaughter animals— which helped you learn to kill people quite easily, it was almost the same thing— and to fight. Everyday, he’d make you practice since the day you could walk it felt. All the time when you’d mess up or get hurt he’d tell you,

“You have to toughen up and learn how to protect yourself, my little sun.” He would speak in Ukrainian while grabbing your face and staring deep into your eyes that looked so much like your mothers.

“There are evil people in this world, specifically men. As a girl you will someday become a woman. Many will think you’re weak but that’s not true because you’re my daughter.”

Little did you know, he was one of those evil men. He was strict but loving towards you. Everyone always told you that you looked just like him. People also told you that your personality matched your Belarusian mothers. Miserable, cold and liked to suppress feelings. Your parents almost seemed so formal with each other. In fact you didn’t even know your parents loved each other until one night you found them dancing and smiling.

Yet you didn’t blame them, having grown up in the U.S.S.R and surviving a famine, they were taught to be cold at a young age. That moment stayed in your memory forever; your mothers smile and your father’s laughter when someone would mess up. It’s the reason you loved to dance, even if it was by yourself.

As much as your mother made your life hell— pushing her insecurities onto you and never giving you the nurture you needed— you still loved her and missed her too. Your father gave you the love you needed as a child even with all the trauma of finding him stabbing a man in the woods when you explored a little farther than normal.

Oh and watching him and your mother be shot by the police when he pulled a gun out and she drove in front of him.

She knew as well as you but times were different. It was 1976 and she felt it was her duty as his wife to stay silent, which ultimately led to her death though she had not physically harmed anyone. At twelve years old you could never imagine loving someone that much.

The lead detective on the case took you under his wing for a little bit before confessing to you that he found you to be a very demanding, morbid little girl. He talked to some people who went to The Director. She made you fight a male student of hers when she saw how you overpowered the female student.

It wasn’t that big she was weak, you demolished him as well, your fighting was just… Different. Animalistic, brutal, and terrifying. You liked to bite, play dirty and go a little overboard. She knew with her training, you would be perfect, possibly one of the best. The Director also knew a current student who seemed to be heading in the same direction. What a partnership the two of you would make…

With that she took you into her care.

When you showed up to practice you were on edge. You had a bad morning. The nightmare you had last night left you feeling sick but The Director said it was time to move on. Life is suffering, she used to say. Not the warmest woman on earth. You walked into the training room and heard Jardani arguing with her. They didn’t hear you at first.

You could always sneak around and hide in the shadows. Growing up, you would always eavesdrop on important conversations and then you’d run back and tell Jardani everything. He was your best friend and it was fun to talk about the drama together. It was often you’d hear a,

“Y/N, get out from behind there this second!”,

And a smack across the cheek.

They stopped talking when you made your presence known but you knew they were talking about you. He looked at you with sadness in his eyes and you just shrugged your shoulders. With a sigh he joined you on the mat and prepared to spar with you. He went easy on you until you heard something.

You don’t even remember what was said, but after a couple of soft swings and light pushes you almost just felt as though the goddess Athena had entered you, you felt the anger and screams of so many scorned and abused women in the past and present coursing through your blood, but even worse, you saw your partner as him.

You let out a heartbreaking scream and charged at him. He was able to dodge and get a few hits in but you caught him off guard, not expecting an actual fight. Once he was on the ground all you remember was sobbing, screaming and his blood all over your hands as multiple people pried you off of him. You had to be sedated as you screamed and screamed and screamed.

His arm had been broken, his nose and you almost blinded him in one eye. You got quite the scolding from The Director before you were allowed to see him again. She wanted you nowhere near him but that wouldn’t stop you. You’d change his bandages, wash him with a washcloth and while he was passed out you sobbed by his bed.

You asked yourself how you could do this to the one boy— let alone person— you felt safe with. The one boy who made your heart flutter in ways you've never felt before, you couldn’t describe it to anyone, certainly not Jardani himself. Who protected you and made you feel like you could forget everything. All the pain.

When he could get up and do things himself you locked yourself away in your room refusing to eat or speak for days. Until he himself came into your room and hugged you, telling you that you were pretty fucking scary but hes okay and you will be too. Jardani was more worried about your mental state. He told The Director it was too soon but she waved him off.

That night he kissed you. It wasn’t the first time you kissed but it felt different. No kiss had ever compared, the closet thing that could come wouldn’t be for years and that would be exchanging each other's markers. The traumatic event made you not feel anything anymore. Not anything good at least and definitely not trust.

But that kiss, despite the fact you flinched away, felt soft and nice. So nice in fact you couldn’t get enough. When he left to go get you something to eat you couldn’t help but let your fingertips brush against your lips. You wanted him to come back and do it again and again. It was nothing like how Vladimir or the other men would kiss you. He could never hurt you, not like they had, that was a fact in your own mind.

Although things had never been official, you would always sneak into his bed and cuddle with Jardani at night. It stopped your nightmares. This wasn’t so out of the ordinary but when it became constant, it became a problem. The Director was not too fond of this relationship. She tried separating you two but then you both started acting out, to make up for it she started sending you both out on missions alone.

She thought you would get in his way, that your love would be too suffocating for him. All her hard work flushed down the drain because of a girl. That made you laugh because years later, now at nineteen it would seem to anyone that he liked you and you just… Weren't all that interested but they also didn’t see the two of you in private either.

You liked being brutal and you liked being scary and you liked gore and would even most likely be diagnosed as a psychopath, it did run in the family, where you could still see the humanity in Jardani no matter how much he liked to try and play it off. You could only feel sympathy for the women and girls.

Everyone here was an orphan, everyone here had a backstory and the girls were treated horribly. You experienced it yourself and it wasn’t fun. The pain and no free will. Having to practice over and over till you fall over exhausted. Just to get right back up and do it again.

A lot of other students would mock you two whether it was because they wanted to see it happen or because they were jealous. Jardani was hot, there was no doubt about that and you were too but that didn’t stop people from treating you like shit. They either wanted to be with you or they hated you. So you liked to be alone.

To you it felt like one of those high school based movies you’d watched with him a couple times. People respected Jardani so most of the jokes or remarks fell on you. They were scared of you but that didn’t mean they didn’t like to get underneath your skin. They pissed you off but you learned to deal with it. The students were good but you were better so at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Plus, you were his partner, so who really won?

With a bottle of coke in one hand dangling off the bed while the other held onto your half eaten sandwich, you heard a knock. Your head whipped around to look at the door. You dropped the bottle and threw the sandwich in your garbage bin a large smile, knowing exactly who it was. Jardani always announced himself before he walked in, it made your heart go crazy because it was his room too.

As soon as you saw his short shaggy hair that was getting quite long and his iconic facial hair you paused the movie. He always sorta looked like a puppy to you, well, at least when he looked at you or The Director was scolding him. Jardani was supporting a nasty bruise on the side of his face.

“Aww my pet is back and he seems to be hurt..” You caressed the side of his face

He rolled his eyes before pulling you into an embrace.

“I missed you, my Athena.” He breathed in the scent of your hair.

You let yourself fall into the hug. Everyone who asked got the same exact answer. The scary assassin was being used for sex. You’d even tell Jardani to his face that if you could marry his cock you’d have no use for him himself, but thankfully he had a pretty face too. And you guess he had a pretty charming personality.

You could never love someone though, you tell him you aren’t faithful to him, that you have men lining up to be with you, that he is disposable and he puts up with it. Even when you accuse him of seeing other women or just wanting sex like most men. You verbally abuse him trying to push him away and yet he stays.

The two of you fuck, cuddle, go out in public together, spend all your time together but won’t put a label on it. This caused a lot of issues. Like arguments that would be fixed with a simple promise and label. Although you know at this point he knows you’re a liar— that you don’t talk to anyone else—he doesn’t need to know that… you know he knows. So many small lies.

Lies that he’s not constantly on your mind and just how badly you want and yearn for the security of knowing he is yours forever and only. Life had taught you that nothing was secure and nothing was forever and that you didn’t feel good enough for him. But nobody would ever hear those thoughts ever. Or so you thought.

“Heard you were grounded.” A laugh left his mouth. “What did you do this time?” He asked.

“It was just some of the others. Guess they didn’t like the look I had on my face.”

“I’ll make them regret saying anything to you.” Jardani kissed your forehead while you scoffed.

“Oh don’t worry I already did that.” You giggled.

He smiled at you while squeezing your hips before leaning toward you for a kiss. His hands came up to hold the sides of your face, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. After such a long time away you knew what he wanted and got straight to the point, like you always did, your hand traveled down to his belt. Your hands toyed with the buckle.

“They fucked up your beautiful face, don't tell me they hurt your best asset though, right?”

Jardani shook his head no with a slight smirk before pushing you down on the bed. His lips connected with yours in a passionate make out session that said ‘I missed you, I wanted you’. Your hands threaded through his hair but you couldn't help but press on the nasty bruise that was on the side of his face. He winced but moaned before moving one of his hands to shove down your pants. His fingers immediately circled your clit causing you to thrust up, groan and pull away.

“Are you going to pleasure your Goddess, Dani? I know you want my pussy.” You said in a lustful way.

“Fuck yes, yes.” He pulled off your pants and underwear before kneeling in front of the bed.

The black haired man started by trailing wet and sloppy kisses all the way from your ankle to your hip, the inside of your thigh to the outside, then he turned and did it to the other leg, all while thanking you for letting him touch you this way. He knows you hide the fact that you’ve never ever let a man touch you like this and in return he's sure to try and let you know he’s never touched or even wanted to touch another woman since the first time you’ve had sex.

Jardani always knew how to make you feel like you were melting. Like a liquid that would seep into the mattress of happiness and bliss. You'd go as far as to say he made you feel nice. But the niceness only lasted for so long. Your hand shot up to his head to keep that distance between the two of you. You felt guarded, you grabbed a fist full of his hair and yanked so he looked up at you. The two of you looked deep into each other’s eyes and you could see the love in his and he could see the cold in yours.

“You’re my John Doe tonight. Unidentifiable, nobody.” It was morbid but it had become a nickname of yours for him.

As he always did he just smirked at you before saying,

“I have served, and will be of service”

Usually he’d kiss every inch of your body but he couldn’t wait. He leaned down to suck on your clit. The minute his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub, you threw your head back. God, he had been gone for so long. Too long… Your hands worked just fine but almost nothing beat having your pussy devoured by the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

His tongue swirled around your clitorous before he brought his hand up to slip a finger in. Much thicker than yours plus with the angle he was at he could easily rub your g-spot. He could feel that it had swelled and continued to rub it. At this point you were thrashing around, gripping onto his hair and pushing him harder against your pussy. There was no doubt you’d be getting reprimanded later, you had always been loud when it came to him.

What was to be done though? You weren’t allowed to go out somewhere private and he had been gone so long. You could have left and rented a hotel to “celebrate” his return… It’s not your fault, so they must hear the noises of your wonderful and amazing fornication. You hoped they were jealous and disgusted.

You rolled your eyes in your mind thinking about how even as an adult you were confined to your room. Soon you and Jardani would move out. The two of you had been talking about it recently since you were almost twenty, it was time to move on and get the fuck out of the Roma Ruska. Be independent, take hits when you both want to and fuck everywhere.

He did mention that he considered joining the military to train under Marcus. A man he had met and formed a bit of a mentor ship with over the last few months. His friend was nice and very charming. You enjoyed his company but hated that he was trying to take your Jardani away from you. It scared you, you knew he could be gone for long, extended periods of time.

You didn’t like to be away from him, you always felt so lonely…

However you were pulled out of those thoughts by Jardani flattening his tongue as he looked straight into your eyes and shook his head like a dog. You felt like you almost crushed his head and killed him with how hard you wrapped your thighs around his head. Your hips bucked in wild motions as you squirmed, your back arching off the mattress and his arm came up to hold your hips to the bed. While his fingers rubbed your g-spot over and over.

“I missed your taste, come on my fingers and tongue, please beautiful.” He gasped out while he tried to catch his breath and his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Diving right back in, he moaned at you pulling his hair, hard. The vibrations were like heaven on your clit. A hard, loud grunt mixed with moan like noise left your throat. Never before had you ever made a noise like that but Jardani was good at doing that. You held his head in a headlock with your legs as you humped his face, taking as much pleasure as you could get from his fingers and tongue.

You released him and got up while panting. He was out of breath as well but smiled up at you as he licked his lips and then whipped his cheeks.

“God I’m addicted to your taste baby.” His face was covered in your wetness and it made you laugh.

You also laughed at his tight and uncomfortable looking pants. Your hand came and rubbed him through the strained fabric. Jardani closed his eyes and sighed, bucking up into your light touch. He needed you but you were evil. One more time. You’d tease him one more time. You palmed his hard cock and made out with him, swirling your tongue around his, tasting yourself.

With a nibble to his bottom lip causing him to grunt you pulled back.

“Fuck I need that again. Lay on the bed John. Now.” You commanded him.

Jardani didn’t even have time to lay on the bed before you shoved him down and crawled on top of him. You kneeled above his neck looking down at him and bit your lip. He looked delicious. Sweaty, his pupils dilated while looking up at you and panting as he waited for you to speak. Waited for you to order him what to do. You gave him a soft kiss and an even softer peck on the side of his face where his bruise lied.

“I’m going to sit on your face, John and you're going to eat me like you haven’t eaten in months.” You held him up by his hair and then let his head fall back onto the pillow.

Not like it would be hard, it had been months since he last tasted your perfect cunt. Your pussy was wet and it almost dripped onto his face but just in time you sat right on top of his mouth, leaving his nose uncovered so he could breathe. Jardani’s large hands came up to knead your behind as he tongue fucked you. The man tried to get the wet muscle as deep as he could.

He always called you his Goddess and it was times like these when believed it to be true. Your taste was addicting and the power he could feel coursing through you as you sat on him, using him like an object. He would be yours and yours forever. If Gods and Goddesses existed then he existed to serve and please you.

“What do you think the other students would say? If they saw you like this, hm?” You threw your head back.

His response was muffled but you didn’t care what he had to say.

“If they saw their perfect, big and bad assassin underneath my pussy.” The lustful laugh that left you was cut short by a groan.

His tongue went back and forth from licking your clit to fucking you the best he could. You leaned back and began to palm his hard cock through the dress pants causing him to moan. The vibration on your sensitive nub caused you to begin riding his face and before you knew it you were cumming again and cumming hard.

The noise that you made almost made cum in his pants but he just held his breath and wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you on his face while you used him to ride out your orgasm. Intoxicated by pleasure, with wobbly legs you jumped off the bed and with very aggressive manners started to undo his belt buckle.

“Get these fucking pants off right now.” You felt like a sex crazed maniac at the time and maybe it was because it had been so long but you didn’t care.

When you pulled his boxers down his cock sprung up. Precum dribbled down the side of his dick and you couldn’t help but lean down and have a taste for yourself. The appendage twitched and you laughed. Sucking on the tip, Jardani hissed and grabbed the sheet of the mattress. It was a salty but a familiar, intimate taste.

Climbing back on top of him you grabbed his cheeks with one hand. He winced once again. You dragged the tip of his cock through the folds of your soaked pussy. After two orgasms you were sensitive but so ready to finally be with him again. You really did miss him, a lot.

“You see Johnny, I was going to make you go finish yourself in the bathroom, but like I’ve always said, your cock is just too irresistible.” You always got dirty during sex but something felt different this time.

“Do you think you deserve my pussy? Do you want to put your cock into my warm pussy? Tell me.” The grin you gave him was evil as you ground down against his hard cock.

“Yes, please, I know I am nothing but a John Doe to you but please, I serve and worship you forever.” He was breathless.

Only you could ever get Jardani to beg for anything.

“Forever? Just me?” You questioned and he looked deep into your eyes.

“Yes. Just you. Forever.” He whispered.

Without warning you sat on his cock. This time he let out a loud strangled moan as he tried to stop himself from thrusting up into you, wanting to be as deep in you as possible. It didn’t matter anyways because you planted your knees on the mattress and started bouncing up and down, riding his dick. His hands came up to help you as he watched your face.

You were in total bliss. Your head was thrown back as your nails dug into his chest leaving little crescent shaped indents there. A surge of pride ran through his chest as you showed him that it was him who was allowed to do this and see you. The woman who barely talked to anyone and when she did it was usually to say something so blunt or tell someone to fuck off because she was awkward and cold.

The woman he felt knew him better than anyone. The one he grew up with. His first and only real crush. How she didn’t care about what others thought. She didn’t shave, she dressed how she wanted and wore the same clothes, usually his, constantly, you weren’t afraid of others opinion.

There was just something ethereal about you, even when he’d walk into your shared room and find you sitting on the toilet with the door wide open and a beer in your hand. He loved you and he’s known that since the first time you were introduced and you called him a swine and expected to be pampered by him. When he didn’t at first you just ignored him, but he caved. Too curious to get to know you and he’s glad he did. Life didn’t feel so lonely.

Your hands ripping his shirt open and off snapped him out of his thoughts this time as the buttons flew everywhere. You started to roll your hips while you began to bite, suck and lick hickies all over his chest that was glistened with sweat. Jardani was not a loud man, not at all, but you could get him to sing. The moans, groans and grunts that left his mouth were like music to your ears.

You tapped his face gently making him look you straight into your eyes. As you knew his entire focus was on you, you began to roll your hips in a way that spelt your name. Your way of claiming him, it was your pussy that was fucking him stupid. You giggled when you saw the look of awe in his face and then bent down to swirl your tongue around his nipple.

Jardani didn’t know how much longer he could hold out, especially after months away, months of fantasizing about this moment. He couldn’t help it, he brought one hand to pull you into a kiss while the other rubbed your still very sensitive clit. You cried into his mouth as he started to thrust up hard. His cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over, you knew you were going to cum again soon.

His hand held the back of your head as he rested his forehead against yours. He watched your face as you almost couldn’t keep your eyes open. You reached around to fondle his balls and he groaned out. Then the pressure grew and grew and grew. It kept growing and you knew it was your approaching orgasm but something felt different… Like you should’ve used the bathroom before you fucked but it was too late to say anything.

“Holy fuck, I’m going to cum again baby!” You cried out feeling the familiar tightness in your lower tummy, “Cum in me Dani, I want it in me.”

You hadn’t even noticed the slip up or that you were twitching against Jardani’s chest, his hand no longer in your hair but holding down your hips. Your vision went white as howl like sounds came from your vocal cords. He was in awe. You were perfect to him as you came undone on his cock. Everything was wet and you almost felt embarrassed, thinking you had peed yourself.

At the moment you couldn’t care. The one time you ever felt all your walls come down. This was paradise, this was right where you belonged, this felt like Heaven. You couldn’t even think but you did feel the pressure on your hips get very tight and warmth inside you. Jardani held you hard against him, releasing his seed into you with one of the hottest moans you thought you’ve ever heard. You were squeezing him so tight it was unreal.

He rocked your hips against his with his hands as your pussy convulsed and you milked his cock. You were in a daze, like you literally felt drunk. Jardani stopped moving you as he became too sensitive.

“I think I pissed on you.” You slurred against his chest.

The rumble of a laugh was felt on your cheek as your lover began to kiss the shell of your ear and then nibbled on your earlobe, rubbing your ass and back in soothing motions. Softly, he gave you a couple hickies on your neck, tickling you and making you squirm your neck away from him, but you’d always let him mark you. For as much as you told everyone it was nothing but sex you sure were proud to show off your fresh hickies.

“That was called squirting, my angel.” He said the term of endearment in Russian and then chuckled again when you tried to hit him but missed and hit the pillow.

Jardani tried to move you off him but instead you grabbed onto him and told him to stop. You left small kisses on his chest as you laid on top of him begging him to stay like that for a little while longer. Your body still jerked every so often and you couldn’t believe you were still orgasming. Your lover's cock was already softening inside you and you twirled his chest hair and pulled at it making him bat your hands away.

“I love you Jardani Jovonovich. I love you, I love you, I lo-“ You always said it after sex and he cut you off before you kept going.

“You’re just saying that because I just gave you an Earth shattering orgasm.”

You leaned up this time to learn forward into his face. He let out a groan at the movement from his cock still being inside you. You kissed him again as much passion as your physical body would allow, hoping he could feel everything you had been thinking and feeling. Only death could stop you from wanting to kiss him but even after that you knew you’d still reminisce about the feeling.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you while you were gone.” His heart throbbed at how shy you sounded. “I missed you so much.”

Jardani gave you a quick smooch.

“I missed you too, so much. You’re my reason to come home, my Goddess.” He pressed his nose against yours.

“Dani, I think this Goddess may have met the one human male that she could ever fall in love with.. Oh my god we can have little demi-god babies..” You smiled.

“If you don’t get off me that may be happening soon.”

You slid off of him sitting by his side. You didn’t look at him just at the wall as you thought. The cum that leaked out of you was warm and your heart had started to race. You wanted to run but you couldn’t move. Based on the way Dani was looking at you let you know he was too, lost in his own thoughts. Oh my god you were feeling so many emotions. What had that orgasm done to you?

Without even thinking you began to trace the scar on your shoulder. You wanted to just run away to the bathroom and cry but before you could you felt him adjust up so he was sitting behind you. his hand grabbed your wrist where he started to kiss your palm and fingertips. Jardani is so good, so nice. You wouldn’t cry even if you wanted to. That’s what you always told yourself but the past few years it’s felt like all you did.

“I’ve been thinking about it. While you were gone… A lot. Well more than a lot. I’m terrified it's going to end in hurt. Everything does.” You press your palms into your eyes and take a deep breath.

“I’m scared that if I make this real you’ll know the real me.”

“I already know the real you.” He kissed your cheek.

“I meant it though. I’m a pretty sick fuck but you make me feel some.. Not fucked up things. Besides the thought of killing anyone else who tried to get with you. You’re all mine, Jardani Jovonovich, if we do this. I’m scared.” You removed your hands from your eyes and he grabbed your wrist.

Ever since your capture you’d been going down a dark road. More cruel and unnecessary kills, being scarier and taking your anger out on anyone who got into your way. What if one day he gets sick of your actions, of your mental agony, and decides to leave after you let him in? His lips against your wrist made it hard to entertain those thoughts.

“Always. And I hope that means you’re all mine as well?” He kissed your palm again.

“Always.” You blurted out with no thought whatsoever.

He looked at you with a soft expression and then all of the sudden he was worried by the devious smirk on your face as you turned to face him fully.

“Now that's out of the way. We still aren’t dating. You have to take me on a nice date!” Demanding as ever, you wouldn’t have him ask you after sex!

Jardani smiled, showing off his slightly crooked teeth. There was his feisty girl. He laughed his rare but adorable laugh before wrestling you so you were under him. A yelp left you as he pinned you down and nibbled on your collarbone. There was no escape but you felt safe. You knew he’d let you go if you wanted him to.

When he was done assaulting your collar bones with his tongue, teeth and lips he looked up at you with a grin that took your breath away.

“Baby, I’ll take you on the best date of your life but first… I don’t think our little reunion is over yet.” He hinted at his hardening cock that slapped against your thigh.

“Well then,” you reached around to line his cock up with your entrance and guide his hips forward by digging your heels into his ass, “I’d say it’s time for round two.”

“I agree.”

By the end of the night, the two of you were well spent. You felt proud of yourself, for talking to him and for finally giving this whole relationship a chance. As Jardani got up to run you both a shower— excited for his date with you after you two washed and he convinced The Director to let you leave the theater— you couldn’t help but think about everything.

You two fought it for years and you just couldn’t believe it was one orgasm away from coming all together.

#john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #good lord I love this man

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aloneinthehellfire · 4 months

Note

for the rh readers version, I was wondering if you could write in a Christmas chapter? I know technically we did get one at the end of rh1 but I’d love to see it at the end of rh2, something where they aren’t necessarily thinking about danger and reader spends time with her sister, that sort of thing

no worries if not, i just absolutely love this story and all the characters are so special to me now you’ve written such a beautiful thing. Anyways, merry Christmas if you celebrate it!

thank you for asking me to write this, these characters deserved sweetness in their life <3

and im fully aware of me being super late with this but I took some time off to relax for the holidays :)

RAINING HELLFIRE [READER’S VERSION]

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: small mention of a scar, uh… steve? is steve a warning?

Set in the Christmas after RH2: Chapter 13: Happy Endings…

Find all Raining Hellfire works here <3

Summary: After all the horror from Halloween, the close calls and the nightmares, Y/n deserved a day with her friends that didn’t involve chasing after theories or running from monsters.

[A/N:I hope everyone had a happy new year! I know for a fact this time of year can be emotional, some of us unable to share it with people we love or having to share it with complicated familial relationships, no one is alone. I hope this little lost chapter will bring some joy to everyone. Spoilers: it’s adorable. Extra spoilers: it’s terrible writing.]

RH2: A SILENT NIGHT WOULDN’T FEEL RIGHT

A soft melody of the radio downstairs carried its way to you, singing faint Christmas tunes in your ear.

It was Christmas Eve night and you were sitting in your room, ripping off some tape to secure the last gift. Technically you had finished wrapping your presents days ago, but Jack had spotted something at the radio shack he thought Steve might like. It was sweet of him to think of your best friend.

You and Jack had spent the day driving around Hawkins, deciding upon a tradition of viewing the Christmas lights. It was the first year you had done it, and Jack was adamant that it wouldn’t be the last.

With a sigh, you lean back against your bed and survey your work, checking the paper hadn’t ripped in your haste to be finished before the plans you had made arrived. But your eyes caught something else.

A small box was currently sitting atop your bookshelf in the corner, almost haunting the shelf it resides. It was too far to read the label, but it wasn’t as if you had forgotten who it was for.

This whole year had thrown a bunch of twists and turns you hadn’t anticipated, one of those being the breakup that shattered two hearts. And, as a result, you now had a premature gift all wrapped up neatly with no one to give it to. Because it wasn’t meant for anyone else.

Maybe one day, you think as you imagine that little guitar pick necklace.

The ring of the doorbell shattered your bittersweet haze and you checked the clock, immediately suppressing a grin. Finally.

You jump up and quickly grab the sweater you had folded onto the desk, your feet soon finding the staircase as you practically flew down it. Jack had only just set down his coffee as you bounded past him, his eyes following you with a curious and inquisitive gaze.

Rather than acknowledge it, you quickly sweep away Jack's abandoned shoes from the foyer and pull open the door, a smile already painting your features.

“You’re late.” You grin, earning yourself a laugh.

“Fine, okay, you win.” Steve chuckles as he shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes, “But it’s not my fault, Dustin-“

“Nuh-uh.” You interrupt with a grin. “We had a deal, loser. No excuses.”

His shoulders drop in a mocking defeat as you present the sweater in your hand.

“Jokes on you.” Steve juts his chin, displaying the outfit against his chest, “I rock Christmas sweaters.”

“Good to see you didn’t leave your ego at Dustin’s.” You snort as he pulls the fabric over his head, his hair springing back into shape once the clothes settle on his body.

“Eh?” He spreads his arms and you tighten your lips.

You had both been Christmas shopping together a few days ago, reminiscing the horror of fashions past, stumbling by chance upon the ugliest Christmas sweater you had ever seen. It was as if someone had sloppily thrown on some tinsel and glitter and called it a day. You had jokingly commented that it would suit him, to which he refused to try it on. So you made a bet based upon your extensive knowledge of his tardiness. And, as expected, you won.

“Who threw up on you?” Jack comments from behind you and you can’t hold your laugh in anymore.

“You don’t like?” Steve asks, and you see he has straightened himself a little more, something he always did when Jack was around. It was cute that he cared what he thought.

“Wait, you haven’t seen the best part.” You giggle, clumsily searching along the lining of the fabric until you hear a ‘click’. If looks could kill, you would drop to the floor without a heartbeat from the way Steve’s glare was twinkling above his now lit-up sweater.

Jack stops and inspects it like it was his duty, slowly nodding.

“That reminds me, we need to chuck out those leftovers from your stew.” He says, looking at you and your mouth gapes open.

“Ha, yes! Burn.” Steve points at you, happy to not be the only butt of the joke.

You let out an offended gasp, “My cooking is not that bad.”

“Kid.” Jack says with fake sympathy. “The only thing you can muster up is waffles and we all know it. Even you couldn’t stomach that stew last night.”

“… I also make cakes.” You say, pursing your lips.

“Fine, fine.” He laughs, raising his hands. “Look, don’t make any mess tonight, okay? I already have to work a last minute shift, I don’t wanna be walking into a bomb site when I get back.”

“Yes, we are known for throwing wild parties.” You nod and Steve smirks, switching off his glittery sweater.

“I’ll see you both later.” Jack dismisses with a laugh, grabbing his coat and keys as he disappears out the door.

“So when is this wild party happening?” Steve asks as he grabs the tupperware container and follows you into the kitchen.

“In like 10 minutes so we need to hurry.” You stress as you rifle through the fridge, pulling out various items.

“10?!” His eyes widened, “Why the hell are we doing everything in 10 minutes?”

You send a look of disbelief, cradling different pre-made treats.

“Ah.” He thins his lips, nodding slowly in acknowledgment.

“Ah.” You mock, dropping everything on the counter, “Lucky for you, Jack is right. I’m shit at cooking so I basically raided Bradley’s for food yesterday.”

“Smart.” He nods, surveying the food, “Hold up. No popcorn?”

“The last time I made popcorn around you, it disappeared in a minute flat. Four times.”

“Hey, gotta be some kind of record.”

“I’d check but I don’t care enough.”

“Rude.”

The doorbell echoes through to the kitchen and you groan.

“Why did I agree to this?” You cringe when the doorbell rings again.

“Because you love us.” Steve smiles at you weirdly and you resist the urge to kick him. Which, incidentally, is what he assumed you would do as he takes a massive step back. “And because you suggested it like a month ago, please don’t kill me.”

You open your mouth to speak when the bell is rung so many times in a row that you finally give up on the conversation and yell out.

“Okay, okay! I’m here, Jesus Christ.” You sigh, swinging open the door to find two boys. Will smiles up at you while Mike stares guiltily with one finger still on the doorbell.

“Hi.” Will waves a small wrapped box at you and Mike starts to smile. You tilt your head at him.

“Did you ring enough times?” You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, come in, we’re almost done.”

You start to look away and the same echo of a doorbell floods your house, prompting you to spin around. Mike immediately removes his hand and puts them both behind his back.

“Now I’m done.” He grins as he rushes past you, only just avoiding your attack to grab him. Will is laughing as he gives you a quick hug and trails after his friend.

“Everything alright?” Steve leans against the doorframe with a smirk and you shut the front door with the kick of your foot.

“Just peachy.” You shake your head in amusement.

***

By the time the last guest had arrived, everything was truly starting to feel like Christmas again.

Steve had managed to string up some lights in the living room as per Max's request. She's always loved the twinkle of them ever since she was little, cross legged on the rug, wide blue eyes staring up. She wasn't as engrossed with them now, but you knew she needed that little piece of home with her in this new place.

The Party sat around the TV, arguing over which movie to watch. You knew they'd never decide, especially not when gifts were about to be presented to them.

El was the last kid to arrive. You had quickly welcomed her into the house before Hopper could change his mind. He needed to learn to let her live her own life for a little bit. Maybe live his own, too.

“They seem to be having fun, right?” Steve asks as he gently moves past you, one hand on your back to alert you he was there.

“We fed them and gave them the remote, I don’t see them complaining any time soon.” You laugh as the kids cheer over something on the TV. “Why do I feel like we’re suddenly parenting?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” Steve mumbled with his mouth full, dusting off his hands from the cookie he just devoured. “Is this what parents do?”

You reach for the last glass you had snuck away to the kitchen to get after El asked for some water, pondering the thought.

“I actually don’t know, either.” You shrug.

“I got it.” Steve declares when you turn to walk out with the water, gently taking it from your hand and you roll your eyes, picking up the dish towel.

As he leaves, you take a quick glance at the pile of Christmas cards slowly stacking up on the counter. Anytime one was posted, you or Jack would add it to the pile to wait for a time you could open them together, especially seeing as most were addressed to the both of you. It didn’t stop you from studying the different types of handwriting, however. It certainly didn’t stop you from realising that no scripture belonged to the woman you once called a mother.

Not that you expected one. After all, you had both gotten that closure, realised you had both since moved on to different families, better ones. It still stung a little. It wasn’t like the last few years where she had been miles away, personally convincing yourself the lie that it had gotten lost in the mail.

“I think I bought us, like, 20 minutes away from them.” Steve huffs as he pushes open the kitchen door, slowly shutting it behind him. “All you need to know is that I have been saving a gift for this very moment.”

“What-“ You start to ask when there is a sudden blare of music down the hall, followed by an unusually loud Lucas saying the word ‘testing’ and belting out a surprising high note.

“A karaoke machine?” You raise your eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Hey, just be glad we’re not sitting there while half of them fight over superheroes and the other half bully us about our terrible love lives.”

“Cheers to that.” You raise an imaginary glass and he laughs. “Well, I guess I can finally give you your present now.”

“That was either a threat or a promise.” He smirks and you bat his head with the towel. “Okay, sorry.”

You turn away and grab the red package on the end of the counter, holding it out to him. “Here, before I change my mind.”

He gives it a quick shake, waggling his eyebrows. “Well now I’m intrigued. No noise, feels soft…”

“Just open it you weirdo.” You laugh and it’s all he needs to tear into the paper, his lips thinning as he tries to contain a smile.

“Seriously?” He sends you a look, holding in his hands a yellow sweater. His yellow sweater. “When did you even take this, I-”

“Unfold it.” You prompt with a smile and he furrows his brows. “I needed something to cushion it for when you decided to start shaking it around like a lunatic.”

Steve carefully peels back the sweater arms, one hand underneath holding it steady. His breath hitches when he finally uncovers what he had been looking for.

“Okay, so I know it’s not much, but you constantly kept saying how you didn’t want anything, which was just a lie because who doesn’t want a Christmas present, so I thought maybe something thoughtful would be more your speed… Steve?”

You look up at him as he drops the sweater on the counter and holds the picture frame in his hands, slowly nodding.

“This is amazing.” He smiles, setting the photo down and pulling you into a hug as you laugh. “Seriously. Best gift ever.”

“Now you’re just feeding my ego.” You smile as he kisses the top of your head.

Steve looks back at the photo frame again, shaking his head. “When did you even take any of these?”

“I have my ways.” You say mysteriously.

The frame in question held a collection of Polaroids and photos, some recent and others dating back to Freshman year. It was torture trying to scrapbook them together into some kind of coherent mess, making sure every face could be seen. Deciding on the photos was a little harder, especially considering his history with Nancy. But she’s there in a group photo from last Christmas, standing at the door frame in the back with a smile.

Your personal favourite was a photo of you and Steve sat at Skull Rock. Somehow he had managed to pull you to the very top and you had brought along the Polaroid camera you found in a box of your aunt’s things and turned it to snap a photo of you both. So very young. So very happy.

“I don’t know how I can compete with that but I guess it’s my turn.” Steve says and you frown as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls forward a surprisingly neatly wrapped gift. It was small enough to fit in his hand but as he passed it over, you could feel it was solid.

With a curious smile, you find the corners of the paper and slide your finger beneath it, quickly unsticking the thin layer and your heart skips a little when you see it.

“You got me a tape?” You ask, pulling out the cassette tape to flip it over and see which one.

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Steve looks a little shy, stuffing his hands in his pockets and opting to look out the kitchen window.

It wasn’t an ordinary tape. You had expected something like Madonna to be staring back at you, possibly a new band he had thought sounded like something you’d like. It was better than any of that, however.

“A mixtape?” You smile up at him, noticing the way his neck was getting a little pinker.

“Hm, yeah.” He nods slowly, not meeting your eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. You’re always, I don’t know, shuffling through tapes like constantly whenever you get bored of one and I figured it would cut down your time a little to have a tape with different stuff on it.”

“Steve.” You gently say and he lets out a breath, finally facing you again. You smile wider. “Thank you. This is honestly amazing. You’re amazing.”

“ Don't praise me too much. Turns out, not so hard to make one of those as you might think.” He grins as you wrap your arms around him for another hug. “But you’re welcome.”

“Hellooooooo? We wanna watch a movie!”

You both simultaneously groan, small smiles etching the edges of your mouths even so.

“Peace can’t last forever.” You sigh, placing the tape beside Steve’s photo frame. “Should probably make some popcorn.”

“You sure you even have any?” Steve asks as you walk to a cupboard.

“Yeah, I stocked up on them yesterday when…” Your eyes stare at an empty shelf, making you squint. “How the hell-”

“Well, guess we should be getting back.” Steve hurriedly announces. You turn to him in shock and he raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, you take secret photos and I’m really really great at secret snacking.”

“But… you need a microwave.” You frown, looking at it like it had deceived you.

“Come on.” He laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “If we leave them any longer they’re gonna start rioting.”

“I’ve been beside you the entire day- I would have heard the microwave.” You mutter as he drags you back into the living room.

“What’re we watching?” Steve slumps down onto the sofa, arm resting against the back. His face falls. “No. No, not this again.”

“You will love it if it’s the last thing you do.” Dustin warns just as the Star Wars theme song starts blaring from the TV.

You catch your sister's eye as her head motions for you both to step aside, pulling you into the hallway.

“What’s up?” You ask and she shrugs slightly.

“I just… I just wanted to thank you.” Max smiles, glancing back at where the others were laughing over Steve’s poor attempt at reading the intro on the screen.

“For what?” You frown curiously and she gives another shrug. Max hadn’t always been the best at expressing her feelings, something you’re afraid she caught from you.

“I know you did this for me.” She says knowingly and your features soften. “I mean, I did ask so it’s not, like, a total surprise. I’m just glad we can have a Christmas again, you know?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shrug, and you start to grin when joy lights her face. “And these guys aren’t either. I think you’re officially one of the nerds now.”

“How dare you.” Max giggles, crossing her arms as she starts to frown. “I don’t know about that, though. They seem pretty close with El. And she doesn’t look like she likes me very much.”

You turn to where her eyes drift just in time to see El’s directed glare quickly drop when Mike calls her name.

“She… she takes a little while to warm up to people.” You try to explain, “I guarantee she’ll love you in no time. Seriously. Especially considering she’s gonna be hanging out with Mike, she’s gonna need some serious girl talk. And, well… if you don’t find a way to have some girl solidarity, who knows what Lucas will make you do. He’s your boyfriend now, he might… make you join their campaigns.”

As you whisper out that last part with a fake warning, Max scrunches her face but laughs all the same. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious.” You chuckle, looking back at the others and momentarily locking eyes with Steve before he lets out a cough and turns his gaze back to the screen.

“Uh-huh.” Max wiggles her eyebrows and you frown. “Looks like we’ve all got our boy problems.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” You ask her as she walks away, placing your hands on your hips.

The amount of times your sister has implied something more than friendship was happening between you and Steve had reached its highest peak since the Snow Ball, regardless of how many times you reminded her that it was simply just friendship.

Shaking your head, you take a quick peek out of the window and smile as you see the delicate descent of snowflakes hit the ground. It was strange how similar your world felt to the Upside Down, not just with the town buildings but rather in its natural state. Small particles like a winter's night, the clouds that formed and flurried, strikes of lightning. It was a habitat in itself, you realise. You just hoped you wouldn’t visit it again any time soon. The scar on your leg was enough to remind you that whatever beauty you could find can be shattered at a moment's notice.

“Y/n.” Will calls out and you turn your head back. He smiles at you as his hand waves you over. “We’re starting.”

Brushing away any thoughts of the Upside Down, you take your seat beside Steve on the couch and focus your mind on what mattered more. You shouldn’t let yourself be consumed with what’s happening to you, not the voices or the shadows that keep you awake.

Right now, you are meant to live in the moment. And that moment was the joyous laughter of the kids sat upon the rug, Steve’s warm smile whenever you laughed with them, those silly twinkling lights that felt like more than just decoration.

The Upside Down would just have to wait until after the holidays.

if you would like to request a new unseen / pov scene for the Raining Hellfire universe, please feel free to put it into my ask box and I’ll get to it when I am available <3

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things reader insert #raining hellfire

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justjensenanddean · 2 years

Text

More about Soldier Boy from GQ Interview.

Which means the big question in season three is something a lot of us are contemplating right now: When a would-be tyrant is finally toppled, what fills the power vacuum they leave behind? What if the venom that person injected into society has already sunk in so deep that there’s no sucking it out again? What can we do?

A popular answer on both sides of the real world political spectrum these days is looking for inspiration from an idealized, imaginary past. As conservative politicians try to drag everyone back to an America where white Christian men get to decide what’s right for everybody, liberal politicians fall back on ineffectual appeals to a bygone era of civility, decorum, and reaching across the aisle.

The show’s newest superhero, Soldier Boy, is an explicit throwback to the fantasy of an idealized past—a beloved, humble American hero who killed dozens of German soldiers in World War II, then refused the honor of his own national holiday, insisting the date should be used to honor all superheroes instead. (He also wears a combat helmet and fights with a shield, so yes, he’s The Boys’ Captain America.)

You will not be shocked to hear that the truth about Soldier Boy is a little more complicated than the official story. Believed dead for decades, he returns to a world he doesn’t recognize. For Captain America, being unfrozen meant catching up on stuff like Steve Jobs and Star Trek. For Soldier Boy, it means balking when he sees an openly gay couple walking down the street.

Eric Kripke didn’t need to look far for his Soldier Boy: Jensen Ackles was just finishing his 15-season run on Supernatural, the first TV series Kripke created. “He said, ‘I know that there are some actors that the studio and network and producers have in mind, but I'd be willing to go to bat with you if you want to do that’," Ackles recalls. “And I was like, ‘How big of a bat do you need?’”

Anchoring *Supernatural—*a TV show that premiered in the early days of George W. Bush’s second term—has taken up much of Ackles’ acting career, but he’s still managed to dip into more conventional superhero fare, squaring off against a young Clark Kent in Smallville and voicing Batman himself in last year’s two-part animated film Batman: The Long Halloween. (“Especially the Batman thing—that’s such a heavily painted lane,” he says. “You don't want to reinvent that too much.”) Even this funhouse-mirror version of Captain America wasn’t much of a stretch: “I've known Chris Evans for a million years, back when he and I were fighting for the same roles,” says Ackles.

But more than anything, Ackles was ready to show Supernatural fans what he could do on an Eric Kripke show that isn't bound by traditional TV's standards and practices: "I don't want to be a one-trick pony," he says. "I think I've got something else up my sleeve." Once unleashed onto the modern world, his Soldier Boy feels less like a superhero than a warning: Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.

(...)

But like so much of The Boys, this ultra-dark worldview turned out to be uncannily well-timed. “Kripke is a fortune teller,” says Ackles. “He has some weird Kryptonian crystal ball in his office, and he's like, This is what the cultural landscape's going to look like a year from now, and he writes to it. I don't know how he does it.”

Trump was defeated, but he’s gathering strength for another presidential run, and we’re all stuck with what he unleashed—and there’s no sign that it’s going anywhere, or that the Democrats in power have serious plans to do anything about it. And maybe that’s been the real message of The Boys all along—the one that makes it stand apart from all the other superhero stories out there right now: No one is coming to save us, so we’d better figure out how to save ourselves.

gq.com

#Jensen Ackles #Soldier Boy #*

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warmothered · 4 months

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crawls to you like a man in the desert who's gone 3 days without water ... please ... what does ashe think of tryndamere's rage and abilities ? where others fear him for rumour of dark magic and inhumane fury , what is her impression ? because tryndamere's heart is soothed by ashe's presence , does she think she's ever seen the true extent of his anger ?

» — > ⌜ OOC ASKS⌟ , always accepting

— @windchaser

okay so. i think her perception of it changes over time because i think what she knows also changes over time. like, initially, when he gets to the avarosans and is picking fights to prove his strength, i don't think she could've known about his abilities other than yeah that guy is insanely strong and it seems like no one can hurt him and that eventually leading to people talking about dark magic and stuff. ashe is very... skeptical? to a point? she doesn't believe the myth built around herself, she doesn't believe in destiny, and of course she knows magic exists, but she'd definitely not be inclined to believe it was dark magic making him win instead of him just. being pretty fucking strong. i do genuinely think she wouldn't have listened to the rumors at all. but eventually she'd get to see the legendary temper and the fact he heals way faster than any normal human would.

i think part of her logic would be like. if he had access to dark magic, he could've found a way to keep his people alive. if he wanted to use it against her people, he'd have done it already (even if it is dark magic, his abilities are not subtle; there's no reason for complicated plots and scheming when it's raw strength he relies on). it's obvious he's not a normal human, but it is a world where, well, sometimes people are just different for several reasons out of which dark magic would be but one possibility. ashe herself is iceborn, and capable of enduring more than a 'normal' human would. he is obviously something else, and something dangerous, and i can see that making her wary at first, before they really trust each other (also out of practical concerns; i don't think she'd fear him, but there are things to be considered like if his rage would endanger everyone around him or if it can be directed to enemies alone, and even the damage to himself and how easy it'd be to subdue his fury).

the way his fury is described it's supposed to be pretty scary to witness. it seems very visceral, and it's definitely described as deep and apparently without end.

Tryndamere roared. It was an inhuman sound, a fury deeper than the roots of mountains, as bottomless as the deepest lake. He roared, and then he lunged for her.

and it's also described as something that left a deep mark on a warrior who, although young, had likely already seen a lot. the freljord is a brutal place and its people learned to be brutal to survive. battles are the norm, not the exception. raids are really common. and yet sigra was left terrified of what she saw, to the point she thinks she'll never forget it and that she never wants to see it again, even though there's no indication at all he harmed or tried to harm her (which also suggests to me the inhuman rage still doesn't make him completely lose sense of things, if he can differentiate allies from enemies, but that's not my point now);

That was two winters ago. Two winters, and I have not forgotten what I saw. Probably I never will. Probably I shouldn’t. I am oathsworn still, bound to fight by his side. When I stand guard over my barbarian charge, motionless at his long table, I see Heldred’s face twisted in agony. When the fires burn low in the long hall, I hear her screams. I have seen what lurks beneath those placid, dull eyes. Every night, I pray to my ancestors that I will not see it again. Some things are better left in stories.

i imagine he fights with a brutal viciousness that isn't seen commonly even among the hardened people of the freljord. making an enemy scream in itself isn't what the text wants to convey is terrifying imo, the paragraph is meant to evoke that what he did was terrifying to watch, that it was brutal, moved by unbridled rage, bloodthirsty and barbaric enough that even another warrior was afraid. but even then, ashe doesn't seem like she'd fear him. still here is meant to be not long after they were married, and she seems neither shocked nor afraid of him

you asked me about her expression in the first image the other day, and i still think she's too... blank, but looking at the cinematic over and over again i feel they wanted to keep ashe's changes in expression subtle (she's described as a stoic character, and i guess they didn't want her to show much emotion? idk i'm reaching) but in the second image i'd say there's something more akin to subtle concern than surprise in her expression, which was maybe what the first was meant to be leading into (a transition from her previous look, seeking him and softening as she momentarily lets go of the battle-focus she'll regain a little after seeing he's okay enough for the time being).

it's hard to tell what exactly her feelings for him would be at this point, but i do think she seems to care for him, even if it's not love yet. and all things considered i just meant to say even after a short while after they were married, ashe is fond of him and cares for him and doesn't seem afraid at all (which. i don't think she'd be if they eventually fall in love!). so while i think she may have been wary and cautious, i don't think she was ever afraid — and i think the more she likes him, the less his abilities are a reason for concern (and might even be a blessing, at times, if only because they keep him alive even against impossible odds). i think ashe is not easily shaken (girl was running from the ursine as a teenager and they're also said to be pretty terrifying) and that her cold logic extends to not expecting battle will be honorable or pretty. he is brutal, but brutal is what they need to be at times, especially in battle. of course she prefers to be merciful; of course she'll choose to give her enemies clean deaths rather than painful ones. but she also knows that isn't the way of most, even those without legendary uncontrollable rage so kjdnfksnf

my point being: freljordians are forged by a harsh environment, and between poverty and almost starvation, betrayal and persecution by the draklorn, surviving the ice sea completely alone and having to outrun ursine when she was a teenager, ashe had it harsher than most. it takes a lot to move her to fear or to shock her. she's moved to compassion easily, but when it comes to fear or rage... she's very even-tempered. maybe even cold, depending on how you see it. but basically i don't think even his brutality is enough to frighten her, nor that it'd make her repulsed. what causes her to part with sejuani, for example, isn't the prospect of battle and shedding blood as much as it is the oathbreaking and attacking innocents. she shoots maalcrom without hesitation as soon as she first finds the true ice bow, despite whatever feelings they had for each other (and sure, he had betrayed her and tried to kill her, but he tries to kill her crying because he has to do it while ashe is unmoved when she does kill him). i don't think she's brutal in the same way tryndamere is brutal, but i think there's a viciousness to her coldness when facing situations like that, and that it also extends to how she sees what others would call savagery on his part.

after she comes to really care for him, i think her concern would be more about... what are the origins of those abilities? can they come to harm him? the rage may seem bottomless but it's always subdued after a time, so it taking him over irrevocably i don't think would be a concern, but just. ashe would be more concerned with the effect it has on him than how brutal it makes him act toward others. i do think she'd try to help — that before tryndamere was able to hold back and say fighting each other isn't the avarosan's way on his own as he does in his short story, ashe probably had to hold him back, that she helps with the rage not having a constant grip on him.

i do think she believes she's seen the worst he can do (they would have fought together, she might even have seen him fight before, when he was picking fights to prove his strength), even if her presence soothes him. honestly, thinking about it, i'm not a tryndamere writer so take this with a grain of salt, but i also think his fury could be made worse if they're fighting together and anyone gets close to harming her. so yeah, i think ashe believes (even if she hasn't) that she has seen how bad it can get, but it's also one of those 'your hands are stained with blood and yet i trust them completely' type situations. she knows he won't harm her. she knows he won't harm their people. she knows his abilities aren't harming him. it's enough for her.

#i hope this makes sense??? and that it answered the questions???? kasjdnkjasnfkjsfn i feel i didn't #» character study — ⌜i am the bow.⌟#» out of character — ⌜ex main sup irl.⌟

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

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Complicated Part 38: Homeward Bound

Series: Complicated

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, adult themes

Word count: 2,973

A/N: Here we are, at the final chapter. It snuck up on me! I started writing this chapter and suddenly realized I'm at the end of this story. Of course, their story continues in Hinge. In fact, I'm already about 1k words into a chapter of Hinge about the night of the Homecoming Ball/the safe house.

List of OC's in this story.

My other stuff: Master List.

“What is this?” Madeleine asked suspiciously as she eyed the other people seated around the conference table in the hotel conference room.

She hadn’t seen or spoken to Liam since the night before when he’d broken their engagement and thrown her out of his room. She was hoping he’d come to his senses. He had summoned her to the conference room where she was now seated around an oblong highly polished mahogany table with Liam, Rashad, the royal press secretary Katerina Trakas, and a woman she didn’t recognized who was introduced only as Audrey.

“We’re here to go over the details of the joint statement we’ll be releasing later today announcing the dissolution of our engagement.” Liam told her calmly.

She felt anger and anxiety surge through her followed by something that stunned her: relief. She felt relieved. Like a weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. Liam would marry Riley and there would be no more princes for her father to try and marry her off to. Still. There was her public image to consider. “And why would I cooperate with whatever story you’ve concocted to tell the gullible masses?”

“I assume you’ve read the article?” Liam asked her.

“Yes.” She nodded curtly.

“It gives you an out.” Audrey spoke up, “I suggest you take it. If you go along with the narrative, you are painted as practically a saint. You stepped up to help out a dear friend and to aid a couple whose love was being thwarted by powers outside of their control. And you did it all for king and country.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll look vindictive, like a woman spurned…again.”

Katerina spoke up, “We’ll add a blurb about you donating proceeds from the sale of your engagement ring and wedding band to a charity that helps victims of sexual assault, give your halo a real good shine. This is a perfect opportunity for you to build some good will with the public.”

“And you need it.” Audrey told her, shoving a paper under her nose, “We did a little poll and your approval rating is not very great right now. You’re seen as a crown chaser, indifferent to the common people, toxic to your employees and fake in your interactions with the press.”

“I….shit.” Madeleine studied the graphic.

Rashad addressed the group, “From a legal standpoint, Liam has fulfilled the requirements needed to claim the crown. Breaking the engagement won’t change that.”

Madeleine looked up from the paper, she had one last card to play, “The marriage contract-“

“Was never signed by Liam, or filed.” Rashad replied.

Madeleine’s head snapped around to glare at Liam, “You bastard! You planned this from the beginning!”

Liam sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Madeleine, you’ve always known that I didn’t want to marry you. Besides, don’t you want to be free to pursue someone more, I don’t know, your actual type?”

She shot daggers at him for a few more moments before her face crumbled in resignation, “Fine. Draft whatever you want, and I’ll sign off on it as long as I come out smelling like a goddamned mother fucking rose!”

“Excellent!” Liam crowed, “We’ll issue the statement this afternoon and I’ll attend the UN Gala tonight, alone. Feel free to take the jet back home early if you like. Alec can see to the details.”

It didn’t matter to him if she left early or stayed and went back with everyone else as originally scheduled. He’d already sent for the back up jet. It was smaller, but just as luxurious and more importantly, private. He was not subjecting Riley to a transatlantic flight with the snippy, petty, backstabbing ladies of the court.

He knew that once their engagement was announced those same ladies would be tripping over themselves to get in her good graces, as they should. As far as he was concerned, everyone that had been mean and hateful to her should suffer for it, but he knew she wouldn’t make them. It was one of the reasons he loved her, she really was kind, generous and forgiving.

He felt profound relief swirl through him as he left the conference room. The charade he had started on the night of his coronation was finally over.

Two days later, NYPD headquarters…..

“Riley!”

She turned at the sound of her name and laughed as she found herself swept up into Liam’s arms. “Liam! We’re in public! Anyone could see us!”

“Let them!” He grinned down at her, “I’m a free man now, didn’t you see the news? I can kiss whoever the hell I want!”

“Ok then!” She smiled back as his lips found hers, pressing into them with an urgency born of days apart and the stress and anxiety he’d felt during those hours when he didn’t know what had happened to her.

“Ok lover boy,” Drake clapped him on the back, “We’re still trying to avoid reporters, remember? Let’s get inside the building at least, ok man?”

“Right. Sorry.” He didn’t look or sound sorry as his gaze stayed locked on Riley with unadorned adoration.

“Liam, you remember my grandfather?”

“Certainly. Sorry, where are my manners?” Liam finally drug his eyes away from Riley as he grabbed Franklin’s hand and shook it enthusiastically, “I can’t thank you enough for getting them out of there!”

“No need to thank me, Your Majesty, I was just helping out my grandson.”

“Please, sir, call me Liam like you did when I was a child, or it’ll be weird.”

Franklin grinned, “Ok, Liam. But then you call me Franklin.”

“Thank you, Franklin!”

Introductions were made quickly as the group entered the building. Drake, Riley and Franklin had brought Logan and Ellie with them, as well as a criminal lawyer Franklin had retained to represent Logan. Liam had Rashad with him to help navigate any legal technicalities that might arise.

They were ushed into a conference room filled with several law enforcement officers, the NYPD chief of police, an assistant director of the FBI, and an assistant attorney general. Twenty minutes later, they exited the room with Logan in possession of an immunity agreement.

“Sir, I can’t thank you enough-“ Logan was gushing.

“If you want to thank me son, do it by not wasting this chance you were just given. Get your life together and keep it that way.” Franklin replied gruffly.

“Yes, sir, I will, sir.”

“Let’s go get your car out of impound.” The lawyer said.

“Hey, kid!” Drake stopped him, handing him a card with his number on it, “Give me a call if you want a job.”

“Doing what?” Logan looked at him in astonishment.

Drake smirked back, “Driving.”

“What? Really?” Logan stared at him with wide eyes, trying to decide if he was kidding.

“Really. We could use someone with your talent. You’d have to relocate to Cordonia but the crown would cover those expenses. Think about it, talk it over with your girl, get back to me.”

“I….I don’t know what to say.” Logan looked like he might cry.

“Ah, come on kid. Enough of that. Go get your car, and call me later tonight, ok? We’ll discuss details. You don’t have to commit to anything, just let me tell you about the job.”

“Ok, boss!” Logan grinned at him as they parted ways. Logan turned down a hallway to the right and left the building with Ellie and the lawyer while the rest of the group went down the hallway to the left.

“I have to go with Rashad to sign some paperwork to get your phone and com back, as well as the items Riley left behind in the store.” Liam told them, “We’ll be right back, shouldn’t take too long.”

Liam and Rashad approached the main desk while Riley, Drake and Franklin turned into the sitting area to wait.

An older man holding a cup of coffee in his hand stepped away from the counter where the coffee pot was located, his face tightening as his glare fell on Drake, “Well, well, well, look who’s here. Did they finally find you and arrest you? Where the hell is my daughter?”

“I’m not your daughters keeper Detective Wheeler,” Drake responded tightly, “And what would they be arresting me for?”

“You assaulted me!”

“No, I did not.”

“No?”

“No. If I’d wanted to hurt you, you’d be in the ICU sucking your dinner through a straw right now.”

“That right?” The older man sat the foam cup down as he stepped in closer and lifted his gaze challengingly to Drake’s eyes.

Drake’s arms crossed over his chest as he held the other man’s gaze, “That’s right.”

“Ok, that’s enough!” Franklin stepped between the two of them.

“Who are you?” Detective Wheeler demanded, “His lawyer?”

“No, I’m Senator Franklin Throckmorton, his grandfather. And you are?”

“Huh.” The detective snorted, “No wonder he’s not under arrest! Pulling strings for him?”

“No.” Franklin replied evenly, “He’s not under arrest because you didn’t have a warrant for your illegal entry and attempted kidnapping-“

Anger flared through the detective’s eyes, “She’s my daughter and we had a warrant-“

Drake cut him off, “The FBI had a warrant for Logan, you had nothing and were outside your jurisdiction. Furthermore, Ellie is an adult who clearly did not want to go with you.”

“You still assaulted a police officer!”

“I didn’t,” Drake shrugged, “but even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Riley answered him, “That Drake has diplomatic immunity due to his post with the Cordonian government.”

“Seriously?” He turned to stare at her in disbelief.

“Seriously.” Riley nodded.

“This is bullshit!” The older man spun to leave.

Drake called out, “Look, Officer Wheeler. I don’t know you, but I do know a thing or two about generational family trauma. You want to fix things with your daughter? Stop trying to control her and start listening to her.”

The detective turned back toward him as he snorted in derision, “With all due respect, you don’t know what you’re talking about. The only thing wrong with my daughter is that degenerate she’s-“

“Logan isn’t a bad kid,” Drake interrupted him, “he’s just had a rough start in life, and made a few bad decisions that set him on a path that was almost impossible to get off of. But he did get off of it. He got his GED, did you know that? He’s been working at a coffee shop for the love of God, when he could still be out stealing cars. And I know I just met him, but he sure as hell seems to love your daughter and I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt her.”

Drake’s eyes flicked over to Franklin then back as he finished, “Plus, she’s an adult. You can’t stop her from being with whoever she wants. What if they get married and have kids? This rift between you, this vendetta against Logan will impact your relationship not just with your daughter, but your grandchildren as well. Have you ever thought about that?”

The other man stared at him for a moment then turned and left without another word.

Franklin took a step toward him, “Drake…”

“Not now.” Drake brushed him off.

Franklin’s eyes went to Riley’s. She gave him an apologetic smile as she rubbed his arm, “Give him a little space. He’ll come around, eventually.”

Franklin nodded, “I hope you’re right.”

Liam and Rashad returned with the items the FBI had seized and the group made their way outside. Drake and Riley were returning to the hotel with Liam, Franklin would be heading back to Virginia.

“Riley, it was so nice to meet you.” Franklin told her, extending his hand, “I’m not sure I understand this arrangement you three have, completely, but I know they do things differently in Cordonia and I can’t deny the positive effect you have on my grandson. I hope the two of you will come visit again next time you’re in the states.”

Riley glanced at his hand, then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, “Of course we will! Thank you so much for everything!”

He visibly startled then returned the hug with a small chuckle, “I see why he loves you. Be careful, ok? You’re about to be queen, someone will always be scheming against you.”

“I know, I will, and I have Drake watching my back, so I feel pretty good about my chances.” She grinned at him.

Franklin laughed in response, then said his goodbyes to Liam and Rashad before turning to Drake, “I heard what you said to the detective in there, son, and you’re right. I damaged my relationship with you before you were even born, and I regret it. Jackson was a good man, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I just didn’t want my baby girl moving to a foreign country, giving her heart to a man in a high risk profession. I may have been wrong, but it was out of a place of love. You’ll understand someday when you have children of your own.”

Drake shook his head wondering if Franklin even realized that the second half of what he’d just said negated the first half. But it was something. “I hope I’ve learned from other people’s example’s not to try to live my children’s lives for them. Not that I plan to have any. But I appreciate the thought. I know it’s not easy for you to admit when you’re wrong.”

They shook hands then hugged awkwardly before Drake ducked into the back of the car.

Two days later, onboard the second Cordonian royal jet.....

The next few days had been a whirlwind, they'd spent a long afternoon and evening relaxing at Coney Island, the outing had been Max’s idea. It was technically closed for the season, but Liam had been able to rent the whole park out, declaring they needed to celebrate. Everyone that had helped them in their journey had been invited. Max and Bertrand had been there along with Rashad, Cassie, Hana, and Callie. Even Olivia came. Alec and Marco had been there as guests, given the day off to celebrate and enjoy the victory they’d help create. Drake had invited Ellie and Logan, with Liam’s enthusiastic support.

Logan had agreed to take the job Drake offered him. Ellie had a passport already, but Logan did not. Rashad had offered to help expedite that, as he was staying behind in the states for a few weeks anyway on Sloane Enterprises business. Logan and Ellie would wrap up their lives in New York while waiting for his papers to come in, say goodbye to friends, pack up their apartment, and put in their notices at their respective jobs. All they had to do for the FBI to allow them to leave was promise to return to the states for the trails they were slated to testify in. Drake had sighed and bitched about it, but in the end, he had agreed to ship the Devore to Cordonia.

Logan had talked Liam into purchasing several Devore GTs for the royal fleet. “If you want speed and dependability, this is the way to go.”

Their last night in New York, Liam had taken Riley to the statue of liberty and proposed properly.

“As if you even have to ask.” She told him.

“I told you in Paris that I wanted to this correctly when the time was right. So….” He slid to one knee and held the ring up to her, “Riley Beth Campbell, queen of my heart, I have longed to say these four words for a very, very long time…will you marry me?”

“Yes, Liam, yes! A million times yes!”

The large, pear cut diamond sparkled on her left hand as she gazed out the plane window. They were on their way home, somewhere over the Atlantic. Max had heard from Bertrand and Drake had spoken to Savannah. He was over the moon thrilled that his sister was moving back home. Although Bertrand had offered her a room at Ramsford, Savannah had opted to return to her rooms at the palace, choosing to take things slow with Bertrand, afraid he was only pursuing her because of Bartie. “I want to be wanted for me, not my ability to produce heirs.” She’d told her brother on the phone.

Riley had thanked Justin for his hard work and let him know that his services were no longer needed now that her goal had been accomplished. Her image was rehabilitated, the public was clamoring for an engagement announcement and she was suddenly a media darling again.

They would arrive home at ten p.m. local time, a press conference was scheduled for the next day, in the afternoon to give them a chance to sleep in and recover from the jet lag. They would announce their engagement to an adoring public, Constantine was controlled, Bastien was under surveillance, everything was finally going their way.

A homecoming ball was planned for several days after their arrival. Riley’s things had already been transported by servants from Ramsford back to the palace, but not to her old room. Her clothes had been placed in Liam’s quarters. The life Liam had promised her was waiting on the other side of the ocean. They were finally able to be together, out in the open and nothing was ever going to come between them again.

She relaxed between the two men she loved, who loved her, leaning her head on Liam’s shoulder as her hand slipped into Drake’s, contentment spilling through every pore of her body. The gentle motion of the plane lulled her to sleep as it flew on through the cloudless sky, toward their future.

*********

Complicated may be over, but their story continues in Hinge.

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adamwatchesmovies · 8 months

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A Bay of Blood (1971)

A Bay of Blood is probably more appealing to horror historians and/or Italian Giallo films than casual viewers. It isn’t quite a proper slasher film but you can see its influence upon the Friday the 13th and later entries in the Halloween franchise - some of the deaths we see here are recreated almost shot-for-shot in the latter. Though its pace is slower than it should be and there are too many characters to keep track of, its mystery is engaging and the body count shocks.

Wheelchair-bound Countess Federica Donati (Isa Miranda) is strangled to death by her husband Filippo Donati (Giovanni Nuvoletti). Moments later, he is himself murdered by an unseen assailant before hiding the body. In the morning, the police discover the dead countess but a note suggests she committed suicide. As the investigation continues, several people begin converging on the property either because they hope to inherit it or want to buy it from the new owners. With a mysterious killer on the loose and everyone’s greed running wild, the bodies begin piling up.

There are A LOT of characters in the film: real estate agent Franco Ventura (Chris Avram) and his lover Laura (Anna Maria Rosati), the creepy groundskeeper Simone (Claudio Volonté), an insect enthusiast named Paolo Fassati (Leopoldo Trieste) and his wife who cares nothing for him, Anna (Laura Betti), the countess’ daughter Renata (Claudine Auger) and her husband Alberto (Luigi Pistilli) as wekk as four teenagers who happen to be visiting the bay - Louise (Brigitte Skay), Sylvie (Paola Montenero), Luca (Guido Boccaccini) and Bobby (Roberto Bonanni). I’m sure someone could remember every face and all of their relationships without taking notes but I wasn’t. This is the kind of movie that needed to cast one Black guy, give someone else an eye patch, a third one some weird verbal tick, etc. Unless you already know how everyone relates, you’ll lose track. Further complicating things are your expectations going in. This is not the story of a lone madman picking off one person at a time for mysterious reasons. Nearly everyone in this story is a potential suspect because they’ve all got murderous urges and several people act upon them. We have all of these conspirators working independently, hoping to take ownership of the bay. In the middle of a scheme, someone will suddenly get decapitated because they're hindering someone else’s plan. Meanwhile, you’re still wondering who murdered Mr. Donati…

A Bay of Blood does an excellent job of keeping you guessing. From their first interaction, you don’t know if Simone and Paolo are potential suspects or just red herrings. Neither appear to have a motive for killing so it could be that if either one of them is a murderer there also happens to be a lunatic messing around with everyone else’s plans. This decision wouldn’t even come out of left field in this film. The teenagers are randomly there so why not?

Director Mario Bava does not give us a protagonist to latch onto. No character is “safe” until the very end. This further obscures the killer/killers’ identity/identities (let’s not assume only one person murdered Filippo) and makes it even more difficult to keep track of everyone. The gore (quite well executed considering the time and low budget) and sudden deaths are more than enough to keep you entertained but this is one of those instances where knowing a little bit about the plot going in would benefit viewers greatly. I can easily see some people getting frustrated by the opaque mystery and dismissing the whole thing. Back in the day, it would’ve been because of the (then) shocking amount of violence. Now, it might be because the ending comes out of nowhere. I have some affection for the final "twist", but it could’ve been foreshadowed better.

If A Bay of Blood interests you, I suggest you set aside an entire evening. Watch the movie, then read an online synopsis, then watch it again with some sort of commentary to "get it". I know that’s asking a lot. Too much for some people but if you are interested in learning the history of horror films, A Bay of Blood is an important stop along your journey and it’s worth doing right. Even if you just watch it once, you’ll still be engaged by the twisty plot, perplexed by the numerous red herrings, and shocked by its violence. (English dub, November 1, 2020)

#A Bay of Blood #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Mario Bava #Giuseppe Zaccariello #Filippo Ottoni #Gene Luotto #Dardano Sacchetti #Franco Barberi #Claudine Auger #Luigi Pistilli #Claudio Volonte #Laura Betti #Leopoldo Trieste #Brigitte Skay #1971 movies #1971 films

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talentforlying · 7 months

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💭 + good and evil

he has very complicated feelings about their use as labels / units of control / designators of loyalty. i'll touch on general theory, labels, and how he feels about them being applied to himself.

general theory: he doesn't believe in good and evil as two sides of the same coin. to him, they're the ridged bit on the edge: an ourobouros, a self-feeding circuit. asking one to exist without the other is a stupid notion, and bound to end in self-annihilation.

labels: unless it suits his purposes, like mirroring someone's language for a con or fitting in with local color, constantine categorically refuses to assign good or evil as concrete descriptive values to anything, if he can help it. unlike divine or infernal, which are more tangible because they're about party lines and politics anyway, he knows firsthand just how subjective people's definitions of good & evil are, and how easily those definitions can shift to fit a story. intentions can be good, in theory, but in practice, whose metric are you using to test that? are they any better or worse if you thought you were doing good by causing harm? see, it's fucky that way, and as much as he likes a little healthy philosophical chatter, he doesn't much care to be preached to.

in his experience, people don't fight wars for good or for evil, they fight for themselves: their values, wallets, families, futures, doesn't matter. heaven is only good the way people say "they're as good as their word", in the abstract and with mandate of proof. hell is an absolute nightmare in every sense, but suppose it was ever someone's absolute nightmare to be loved; is taking up a tender mantle then a strictly evil act? he's had his life saved by demons, and angels have spat in his eye; he's saved the world and damned it in cycles. ourobouros, no two sides.

to constantine, if you're dividing the world up into good people and evil, you're naive, lazy, closet-bigoted, a grifter, or some pathetic combination of all the above, and not only does he Immediately not trust whoever's doing it, but he will not spare you the time of fucking day to hear about how you came to that decision. sort your shit out on your own time, get well soon.

himself: again, he doesn't assign values. if you asked him sincerely, he'd say he's not a good man or an evil man, he's just human, and doing his best. but i think it's in the nature of a con man to reflect back what it is people see in you, validate their perspective so they lower their guard, and that means becoming whatever version of yourself you thinks aligns the closest to that boundary line. so he has specific acts that he puts on for both ends of the snake, depending on who he's fucking with.

the most "good" version of himself, i think, is drawn from the memories of the person he was in his relationship to kit ryan: someone who was static, but devoted, committed to a pattern of behavior that would benefit someone else, regardless of the pitfalls.

the most "evil" version of himself goes right to his father and the serial killer who killed his father, 'the family man': someone self-aggrandizing and wrathful, precise in where they place the knife, haphazard in not caring who they hit when they miss. still static, but unhappily, seeking any angle to make it worse for everyone around him than it already was for himself.

ironically, this means that in searching for references to become the most evil version of himself possible, constantine wound up referring back to himself: he looks exactly like his father, and initially liked the family man when they met, because constantine recognized a couple elements of himself in the man. so on a psychological level, i think we can take a pretty good guess as to how constantine would label himself, if he believed in such a thing.

@n1atruc / HEADCANON TOPICS ( always accepting )

#n1atruc #here's hoping this makes a lick of sense rip i am so tired #me: GOOD VS EVIL IN HELLBLAZER GOOD VS EVIL IN HELLBLAZER #my brain: nap bitch #( answered. ) THIS IS JOHN CONSTANTINE. FUCK OFF.#( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.

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transbodydreams · 1 year

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Being myself

So way back when, long before I actually came out as trans, I had a Tumblr account where I posed as a trans lesbian woman and made lots of friends. I used a lot of pics of a girl I knew who looked the way I dreamed I would look as a woman to "prove" I was who I said and not what I really was at the time: some sad bearded dude hiding behind a computer screen fantasizing about who I wished I was. I made up a backstory for her that was similar enough to my own life that I could talk about things that were happening to me by tweaking them slightly, which allowed me to have what felt like real conversations. It felt amazing to have a place where I could be myself. Things got complicated fast, though, and it got harder and harder to be consistent with my stories. At least one person, a guy, figured me out and was pretty pissed off about it. Finally, I started having feelings for a woman that I was talking with and realized that she was falling for me too, and I panicked. Fearing what would happen if she discovered the truth about me, I deleted the account and lost all contact with her and with everyone else I'd connected with. I often wonder what happened to her and how she felt about being ghosted. I also mourn losing all of the friends I'd made. Even if I was lying about my appearance, they got to know the real me in ways that my IRL friends never did, and I really regret not being honest with myself or with them about who I really was. One of the first things I did when I finally decided to come out and live my truth was to start a new Tumblr account, but this time I wanted it to just be me, warts and all. I didn't want to have to lie about myself anymore, or to hurt anyone else with my dishonesty.

TBH, it's been slower making connections when I'm not hiding behind pictures of a fantasy girl, but I treasure the new connections I'm making and the people I've met in a much deeper way - they are accepting the real me, not some dream that I will never live up to, and that feels really good.

I know that a lot of my followers do what I did, pretending to be a fantasy person who expresses who they wish they were. Sometimes it's easy to tell and sometimes it isn't (helpful hint: don't use a porn star or insta-famous model as your avatar and claim it's you - this is Tumblr, where someone is BOUND to recognize the pics, I promise!), but having been there myself I won't call them on it unless they get weird or start trying to scam or phish me. One of the great things about the internet is you can have the illusion of living your dream, and I don't want to take that from anyone.

All that said tho, If you're one of those people living through your made up avatar and experiencing the guilt and anxiety that comes with having to keep up what feels simultaneously like the biggest truth you've ever experienced and a huge and painful lie, I hope you'll read this and consider showing us who you really are. I mean, after all, I can't see you now, so all I have to go on is who you say you are, and if you're expressing your real feelings and I'm responding, chances are I'll keep responding even if you admit that you aren't a gorgeous sexy 22 year old lesbian model. Yeah, I might be a LITTLE disappointed about that, not gonna lie, but I'll get over it and you'll feel so much better, I promise!

Love you all!

Jess ❤️

Speaking of warts and all, hi there, it's me!

#transgender #me #honesty feels really good

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animebw · 2 years

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Short Reflection: Tatami Time Machine Blues

Is there a point in making a sequel to The Tatami Galaxy?

Most likely, the answer is no. Masaaki Yuasa’s seminal 2010 exploration of college life and choice paralysis was as complete and self-contained as a story could possibly be. It spent 11 episodes saying everything it needed to say and left without any loose ends to tie up. And not only are there no real narrative threads to pull on for a follow-up, there’s no real way to recreate the complex time loop gimmick that drove its structure without breaking the narrative machinery in half. Tatami Galaxy was an incredible show, but it was also a show that could only ever work once. So while this twelve-years-later sequel might be little more than a fun nostalgia trip, can you really blame it? There’s nothing that Tatami Time Machine Blues can do that Tatami Galaxy didn’t already do first and better. Might as well just make like an aging rock band and play all the old hits again, secure in the knowledge that what worked then will still work now, even if it lacks the originality and nuance that made it so special to begin with.

To be clear, I have no problem with Tatami Time Machine Blues essentially just being a victory lap reminding you of how great Tatami Galaxy was. Pointless or not, even just existing in this world again is fun enough to justify checking this six-episode OVA out. Where else would I get a visual style this bizarre and expressive, with Shingo Natsume replicating Yuasa’s aesthetics to near perfection? Where else would I get dialogue this layered and verbose and packed full of interesting trivia? Where else would I get the uniquely raucous dynamic between the cynical nameless protagonist, his cackling personal shoulder demon Ozu, and the various stand-out side characters that populate the art-deco streets? There is nothing quite like Tatami Galaxy, not even among Yuasa’s other work. So even if this OVA is just an excuse to revel in the good times again, well, they’re still some damn good times. Just don’t expect anything like a proper continuation, because you’re bound to be disappointed.

Actually, even calling Time Machine Blues a sequel feels inaccurate. We’re still at the same college campus, still going through the motions as if it’s just any other go round the time loop- and indeed, the final episode quasi-canonizes this show as just one more revolution through Watashi’s failed attempts at reaching a rose-colored college life. No, it would be more accurate to descibe Time Machine Blues as a simplified retread. It’s got all the same characters, all the same themes, a just-different-enough use of time travel (as the title implies, this plot is all about time machine shenanigans and trying not to destroy the universe with a time paradox), and ultimately comes to the same basic conclusion as its predecessor. Watching this show feels very much like someone took Tatami Galaxy and simplified it for a lower reading level, as it were. You know how a lot of works of classic literature like, say, Great Expectations have graphic novel versions made of them to make them more easily digestible to younger readers? Like, maybe you’re not ready to tackle such a dense, wordy novel on its own terms, but you can still experience the story through comic form and get most of the point? That’s what Time Machine Blues reminds me of more than anything. It’s Tatami Galaxy for audiences who feel like Tatami Galaxy is too complicated and want a version of the story that doesn’t demand so much brainpower trying to keep up with it.

And again, I don’t mean this as a criticism! There’s plenty of value in making challenging works more easily accessible to everyone. But if you are someone who’s comfortable meeting Tatami Galaxy on its own footing, then this reader’s digest version is going to feel lacking by comparison. The time machine antics are fun, but they pale in comparison to the original’s thematically brilliant time loop structure. The ultimate conclusion is fine, but it lacks the sheer catharsis of the original’s beautiful climax. Even the animation, as near-flawlessly as Natsume recreates the series style, doesn’t hit quite the same imaginative heights as Yuasa was able to reach. Which is a severe nitpick, I’m aware, but why settle for a strong A when you could have an outright flawless A+? As art, as entertainment, as a statement on the importance of making the most of your life and not waiting for someone to work things out for you, Tatami Time Machine Blues is perfectly fine on its own terms, but just a little bit weaker and more superfluous than what came before it. The only thing it really adds, instead of just repeating, is that Akashi gets a little more personality as a deadpan scatterbrain who’s intellect tends to outstrip her common sense. Which I did like: Akashi and Watashi’s romance was always the weakest part of the Tatami universe, so making her character more interesting is a very welcome addition. But it’s ultimately a drop in the ocean of a show that’s otherwise a perfect example of the “everything the same, but worse” school of sequel writing.

You know what, though? At the end of the day, all that really matters is if I had fun or not. And for all my complaints, I absolutely had fun with Time Machine Blues. It’s little more than a victory lap, but it’s a well-deserved lap, and one that still mostly captures all the things that made Tatami Galaxy so entertaining, if not what made it exceptional. And maybe someday, if I feel like re-experiencing this kooky world but don’t have much brainpower to spare, this show will be just the low-carb alternative I’m looking for. But until then, I give Time Machine Blues a score of:

7/10

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #tatami time machine blues #yojouhan time machine blues #the tatami galaxy #tatami galaxy #yojouhan shinwa taikei

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mortallycoiled · 1 year

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mortally coiled patch notes

(because i couldn't think of something better to call this)

Nil survives the narrative now (kinda). I've been thinking about how Null gets to have a slightly normal life post-c1 and like. Man. Nil kinda got completely fucked over in the whole thing, and also I kept thinking about little Null/Nil interactions that wouldn't be able to happen since they knew each other in person for a total of like 5 minutes before Nil gets knocked off a cliff. So now, Nil kinda/sorta comes back post-c2. How that'll work is that Rasputin's first Dogkiller weapon is made from Nil's stinger, salvaged from their corpse. A few Sundogs get stabbed and/or killed by the knife, and eventually Gazer uses the knife to kill Rasputin before discarding it. All the soul energy and stardust and significance and shit formed from that makes the knife imbued with power, allowing Nil's soul (previously anchored but dormant in his corpse) to anchor to the knife once Gazer tosses it back into the swamp, reuniting it with the rest of the corpse. Eventually, Null gets a hold of the knife. Nil is able to "reform" when the knife is stabbed into the dead body of an animal (since Nil is tied to meat the same way Null is tied to stone) and reshapes the body into their own image, with the knife still present. If the knife is removed, the body Nil is possessing turns back into what it was originally, and cannot be possessed by Nil again. This can also technically be done to something alive, with interesting results (ie idk what the results are yet but they'll be wacky)

Roach is being... demoted? relocated? it's complicated. I don't think they really fit where they were in cycle 1 originally. That was kind of a remnant of a much earlier version of the storyline, where Roach had a much more active role compared to everyone else in the Null squad. However, Roach's character now just doesn't really make sense with that removed. Originally, Roach was entirely passive for most of the story, to contrast them being the only one to actually escalate things in the end, but since that was removed Roach really doesn't... do anything, and doesn't have a good motivation to do anything in cycle 1. I've also had some ideas in the past where Roach instead plays a bigger role in cycle 4, and I've lately had a SIGNIFICANTLY easier time incorporating then into the storyline in that cycle. Also, I think Bang would fit into the cycle 1 group WAY more smoothly than Roach ever did. Having an aspect of unexpectedness also fits WAY better with Fane's aspect of misinformation than the aspect of decay, and makes Null's team have more concept-based vs the more physical aspects of Nil's team (the hunt + group fights).

some more minor changes as well under the cut;;;

-Bo is more Rasputin than Nil, rather than the other way around, but at the end of the day is just kinda their own person. They were created more by the combined excess Eternal energy released by the death of Nil and Rasputin- probably some of Rasputin's soul is in there, but most of Nil's stayed bound to their corpse (and later, the knife)

-Judge is now the FIRST mooncat instead of just an average mooncat. Being first, they formed with significantly more power than one normally would due to the power vacuum created when Sar'kai was restored. this is also why angels are formed way more often than mooncats- compared to sundogs, an individual mooncat is more of their aspect, if that makes sense? A mooncat and a bunch of angels is kinda like having a counterbalance of a single kilogram weight and a whole bunch of gram weights

-Still trying to develop how ecclecto-mechanics work. I'm thinking that electronics and mechanics came first, but since the constructions were Significant they would occasionally just... spontaneously develop a soul, especially in highly populated cities. Ecclecto-mechanics specifically is the construction of something with the express intention of it forming a soul, maybe to the point of purposefully prompting the formation of a soul? Idk, I just really really like the idea of magic and machine intersecting because they're just. they're siblings to me ok

#mc #c1 #c2 #c3 #c4 #because I kinda talk about all of those here whoops #storytelling #worldbuild #bogposting #DIRE #ok hopefully those are all the relevant tags lol #I just want to be able to find this kinda thing later down the line

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hantaslittlearsonist · 2 years

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Bittersweet Lemon Drops Chapter 1.

You arrive in the tiny greek town where your friends sent you as an engagement gift. You make new friends and are faced with some... complications.

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Soulmates… You had already found yours. It had been easy, the sweet, kind friend you had known for as long as you remembered had turned out to be your fated. You considered yourself lucky, not everyone’s soulmate story was as good as yours was. Some were fated to people they’d never meet because of distance or unfortunate timing, some were fated to criminals and some were fated to people they just didn’t get along with. And yet it was still seen as taboo to date or marry or even consider a romantic relationship with anyone but the person you shared your red string with. Perfectly stupid in your opinion, but you supposed that when in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? So you went along with the rules and never dated, at all. Because your soulmate was only your best friend and could never be anything else. You couldn’t imagine yourself kissing them let alone marrying them and building a family. Your relationship was purely platonic and you were both happy with that.

Until they weren’t.

Your soulmate came to you one day after you had returned from an exhausting class and had asked ‘What if we tried… You know, to do the soulmate thing. Properly.’ this had taken you aback. Why were they randomly asking you this question when you had agreed, years ago, that you were platonic soulmates only? Well, maybe it was because it had been years, thirteen to be exact, since you had found out you were soulmates. You had been children then. Maybe that’s why. So you played along, wanting to make them happy because even if you weren’t attracted to them in that way you still loved them.

It seemed you tried too hard.

You were set to get married in less than a month. It had been too fast, the engagement, but your families and friends had expected it (and obnoxiously encouraged it) since you had known you were soulmates for most of your lives. You had grown up together after all, best friends forever after. Only best friends. But they loved you and the new developpement in your relationship had made everyone around you so happy that you almost forgot you didn’t actually want this. Family outings had turned into performances and loving your soulmate had become a chore. Something you did out of necessity. But your soulmate’s grandparents were old and they really wanted their grandmother to walk them down the aisle. So you went along with it. As an engagement present your friends had planned a solo trip to a tiny beach town in the south of Greece. They had called it “your last moment of freedom”. Your heart had hurt when you realised that that’s exactly what it was. You would spend the rest of your life performing a perfect soulmate relationship for everyone but yourself.

XXXX

The bus trip from the airport to the town had been hellish. Too hot, with no air conditioning; the person in front of you had insisted on pushing their seat back as far as possible so they could be comfortable. You weren’t. Your shorts had been digging into your thighs for hours and you were so sweaty that you were sure your skin would stick to the cheap faux-leather seats when you tried to stand.

Through the discomfort you could still appreciate the beauty of the rolling landscape. Sprawling expanses of olive trees lined up here, a tiny village hidden there and a space between the hills through which you could see the glimmering turquoise Mediterranean appearing now and then. The music in your earphones, which were almost out of battery after four hours of constant usage, had gone from slightly depressing to hopeful in the time that the bus took to get from the biggest city in the region to the stop just opposite the youth hostel you would be staying in.

You unstuck yourself from your seat with a wince, you were bound to have lines mirroring the sewing on the chair engraved into your skin. Your steps were heavy as you grabbed your backpack and climbed down the steep stairs of the bus’s middle door, past the stinky toilets you had refused to use the whole ride.

The summer breeze that blew your hair into your eyes was not unwelcome after the stuffy bus. Sadly it did make it so you couldn’t see, and you walked straight into someone. A surprised “ah” left your lips as you lost your balance and almost tripped over someone’s suitcase. But you didn't fall. Instead a pair of large and slightly sweaty hands stabilised you by your shoulders. You pushed the hair out of your eyes, wanting to thank your saviour but ended up just staring.

He, although one mustn’t assume, was tall, taller than all of your friends, with hair that was buzzed and black at the sides and white, shaped into a deathhawk on the top. His ears were littered with piercings, you caught yourself wondering if he was pierced anywhere else. You watched as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and smiled crookedly. The metal in his ears glittered in the burning sun, almost blinding. His eyeliner was smudged, it almost looked like he had cried on the bus.

‘Hi.’ He said. You wanted to kick yourself, how long had you been ogling him? ‘HI!’ You shouted then cringed when the busdriver looked at you curiously. ‘Sorry I fell on you!’ You backed away from him. ‘It’s okay.’ You heard him laugh as you turned around to search through the hold for your suitcase. You found it under a hard-side case that was so purple it was almost black and covered in band stickers. Attempting to move it you bumped into someone and they laughed. ‘You walk into people like this often?’ It was the black and white haired person again. You apologised and moved aside so he could get his case. Of course the dark purple case covered in stickers would be owned by the person with smudged eyeliner and a sleeveless leather jacket. Of course.

You pulled your suitcase out of the hold and stood panting for a few seconds. It really was way too hot. As everyone seemed to be fighting to get into the hostel through the small blue front door you decided to wait. You wondered if you might be able to see the ocean from here, so you rolled your case round the bus.

The view was so beautiful you had to catch your breath. The town spread out over the side of a steep hill that sloped all the way down to the water. Blue and white houses squeezed together along narrow streets barely big enough for a car to pass through in the town centre, thinning out as they got further away from the church and the port. A lonely house stood about 700 metres away from where the agglomeration ended. Its paint wasn’t as bright as the other buildings, like the owner had neglected to repaint it this year. It looked sad, rejected despite the harmony of its architecture and the lushness of its garden. You wondered why it was apart from the others. You felt drawn to it, like the house had something to teach you. Some long forgotten knowledge you needed to be reminded of. You promised yourself to go and explore it, just to see if it was inhabited.

‘Beautiful isn’t it? This view is the reason I keep coming back.’ said a voice next to you. A sticker-covered purple suitcase rolled into sight. ‘Yeah. I can barely believe this place is real.’ you breathed, afraid to disturb the peace if you spoke too loud. ‘It’s real alright. What’s your name?’ ‘Y/N,’ you said, it felt like sharing a secret, ‘You?’ ‘Cheslock but I let pretty people call me Ches.’ you could hear the grin in his voice. ‘Before I misgender you too much, what pronouns do you use?’ you asked. ‘He, him. Yours?’ he answered. You answered and thanked him for asking. ‘Only natural.’ if his voice were food it would be salted caramel on ice cream and berries. It was warm, sweet and melty like it could slip into all your pores and stick to you. But it still had the sharpness of wit which made you want to listen to him read the dictionary. ‘We should dump our stuff in the hostel, I’m sure you want to check out the beach.’ he said, turning back to the building where people had stopped swarming. ‘You’re not wrong.’ you followed as he walked, thinking about the glittering waves and warm sand.

After dumping your case and backpack on the bottom of a bunk bed and helping Cheslock lift his insanely heavy bag onto the bed above yours, you excused yourself to change into a swimming costume and less sweaty clothes.

You didn’t know what made you do it, you pulled up your pants and your engagement ring, on your left pinky where your Red String was, caught on the belt loop. With a frustrated huff you slipped it off your finger and stuffed it into your pocket. Immediately without the outside proof of your having a soulmate you felt more free. You could still see the string, of course, but taking off the thick red ring made your heart lighter.

Over the too few months you had had it, the ring had started to feel like a shackle. You had started resenting your soulmate for giving it to you. Which was absurd because you had been the one to accept it. In front of all your friends and your soulmate’s parents. You sighed and left the bathroom, wondering if Cheslock had waited for you. He had.

XXXX

Cheslock was sitting on his bed holding a violin like a guitar and plucking away a fast-paced but bittersweet melody. He looked up when he heard the door click shut.

‘Well you took a while.’ he teased. ‘Ready to go? The others are already down at the beach. Well everyone apart from Gregory, he probably went to the church.’ he muttered the last part more for himself than for you then looked up with a sparkle in his eyes. He had fixed his liner and taken the leather jacket off.

‘I have to put suncream on first but yeah I’m ready.’ you answered, rooting through your backpack for the bottle of “Hawaiian tropical silk hydration” spf you had shoved into the bottom that morning. ‘That’s something I love about coming back every year, I get to take the newbies to all the pretty places I found.’ he played a little trill of notes, his long fingers fast, eyes focused on the strings. ‘Are you the only one who comes back?’ you ask, rubbing cream into your legs. ‘Nah there’s a few of us. Gregory, of course, he’s obsessed with the church paintings. He comes back every year. The Midford siblings, their parents pay for the trip to get them out of the house, and Lizzie’s friend Paula…’ he paused to think. ‘Soma and Agni come every other year and Mey-Rin who kinda just shows up.’ he paused again. ‘Oh and Sulli and Wolf but they live in town.’ he finished and put the violin into its case, he had somehow found one that fit snugly into his suitcase. ‘Ready?’ You had just finished spreading sun cream over your face. ‘Yep!’

The walk down to the beach was hard. The streets were much steeper than they seemed and little stones kept getting into your shoes. Cheslock teased you relentlessly over the pebbles and how much you complained about them. Eventually you gave up, looped your laces together and hung your shoes over your shoulders. No stones would get into your shoes if you weren’t wearing shoes. The conversation strayed from the places Cheslock wanted to show you to the lonely house on the cliff.

He informed you that it was inhabited by an Irish pensioner and her five cats. The black and white haired man went on about how Gregory and himself had sat in her sitting-room drinking homemade lemonade while she talked about her life. Ms O’Leary was one of the 20% of stringless people. She had spent her whole life wondering why her soulstring cut off 30 centimetres from her finger. She searched and searched for what she might have done to insult the universe for it to decide that she didn’t deserve a soulmate. Eventually she had ended up in Greece and she had come upon another stringless person. Ms O’Leary’s love had passed away a few years ago and she refused to change anything about the house they had lived in. She wanted to keep her love’s memory alive even if she had moved on to the next stage of her existence.

Once Cheslock had finished his story you realised you had almost made it to the beach. The scent of the sea floated on the wind and filled your lungs. You breathed in deep, like it was the first time you were truly alive, on this little beach, with a bunch of strangers and without your soulmate. You looked down at your left hand, your string was slack and trailing behind you, it was easy to forget it was there without the ring. People noticed the ring. Strings? They were invisible to everyone but their owners. You could almost be stringless.

Cheslock grabbed your hand and made you run down the beach to the sea. He let go and waded out into the water with his shoes on, beckoning you to join.

The sun had started to sink from its spot high in the sky and the air had gotten a little less hot. You dropped your shoes on dry sand and carefully stepped forwards so only your toes were in the waves. You gasped as the water chilled your skin. It was colder than you had expected. You paddled towards Cheslock, who was grinning widely, and enjoyed the odd feeling of sand and sea water washing between your toes. Once you were close enough Cheslock kicked up some water with a mischievous smile. You squealed as it splashed up your shins and dripped off your knees.

‘Hey!’ you shouted, jokingly outraged. He splashed you again, a provocation. Cheslock leaned forward and said ‘What? Afraid to get wet?’. There was a flirtatious undertone in his smirk. ‘Fight me!’ You kicked water at him hard enough for it to splash his white t-shirt. Droplets landed on his skin where the fabric was ripped at the shoulder. ‘You’re on.’ he grinned before lunging at you.

You didn’t dodge fast enough and he tackled you. Your bodies came crashing down into the waves in a peal of laughter and a mess of limbs. The water wasn’t deep enough to cover your face as you lay there breathless and still laughing. ‘Noooo.’ you moaned. ‘My hair’s wet, it’ll take hours to dry. I didn’t bring a towel down.’ ‘I’ll get one from Edward don’t worry. He always brings one too many.’ Cheslock reassured you and helped you to your feet.

After you acquired a huge yellow beach towel from an energetic blond man who stood right in front of his younger sister the whole time he and Cheslock were talking, you and the black and white haired man started strolling back and forth along the shore.

Somehow, though you were strangers, the conversation never lulled. Cheslock let you explain to him that Apollo, the sun god, drove a golden chariot across the sky and that was why the sun moved throughout the day even though you were certain he already knew the myth. In turn you listened to him tell the tale of Orpheus and how one time when Cheslock was exploring the countryside around the town he had gotten lost and found a very strangely shaped stone he was sure could be Orpheus’s head. You were glad you had managed to avoid the subject of your own soulmates until then. You weren’t sure you wanted to discuss that with this attractive pretty-much-stranger.

Unfortunately that wouldn’t last forever. The sun had sunk half way under the horizon when Cheslock and your conversation had been cut off by someone shouting his name. And you had just been about to make a joke about Apollo getting tired too. You almost huffed but stopped yourself when Cheslock’s face lit up at the sound of the voice.

‘Ayeeee Gregory! You decided to come down for dinner after all!’ He called and started walking over to the palest man you had ever seen. Gregory was wearing a cape with the hood pulled low over his face but you could see he was smiling softly at Cheslock’s enthusiasm underneath. A short blonde girl walked a few paces behind him, looking at the man with what could only be described as stars in her eyes. ‘It’s the first night, I had to.’ He answered looking at the sun like he was gauging if it was low enough for him to remove his hood without risking sunburn. It seemed it was because he tugged off the whole cape and draped it on the sand.

If you had been confused about “dinner” you needn’t have been. A very tall man with an immaculately white turban and a shorter man with long black hair and tanned skin were carrying a few baskets packed with food towards where Gregory had sat down. Sensing that it was time to eat, the blonde man who lent you his towel put down the long stick he had been using to fake sword-fight with his sister. She pouted but joined him when he offered his help with carrying the baskets.

Within five minutes a small group of people had gathered around the food, everyone chatting and catching up. You felt a little left out, not knowing anyone, but noticed that the blonde who had arrived with Gregory was sitting a little apart from the group. You decided to speak to her.

‘Hey, first time here too?’ you asked as you offered her a tupperware of chopped carrots you had pulled out of the closest basket. ‘Yeah.’ she answered, taking the whole tupperware. ‘Does everyone else know each other?’ ‘I don’t think so. But Cheslock,’ you pointed at the man who was hanging off Edward (if you remembered well)’s shoulders, ‘said that some people come back every year.’ ‘Ah it makes sense they’d be like this then. I’m Serena, by the way.’ ‘Your name suits you.’ you commented. ‘I’m Y/N.’ You and Serena complained about the bus ride until Cheslock came to get you two and introduce you to everyone. It turned out that you and Serena were indeed the only “new” people in the group. Learning so many names at the same time was a bit of an overload on your brain so after politely turning down a slice of pizza since you had already had one, you wandered off towards the water.

Throughout the afternoon you had almost forgotten you had taken off your engagement ring. It was so easy to forget everything that was weighing on your shoulders here in this beautiful town and though you didn’t want to admit it, with Cheslock. There was something about him that just pulled you in. Maybe it was the mischievous shine in his eyes, maybe it was the way he talked and listened to you like you were the most important person in the world or maybe it was just because he wasn’t your soulmate. After all, you had watched him interact with his friends and he listened as intently as he did with you. He must treat everyone like that. You wondered why he was so kind and attentive. He would make a good summer camp counsellor, you thought. Well, this was almost a summer camp, just with adults instead of teenagers.

You slipped your hand into your pocket and fidgeted with your ring. You wondered if Cheslock had found his soulmate yet. Some sick part of you hoped he hadn’t or even that he was stringless. Just so you could justify your burgeoning crush without feeling too bad. He was just… he was so sweet. And not even your best friend, your soulmate, had ever listened so enthusiastically to you spewing information about Greek myths he already knew. You selfishly wondered if there was any way you could take a piece of him with you when you left towards the rest of your life. Like the ball of a piercing or a broken violin string. You knew you would keep the memory of today and the next two weeks in your heart forever but something told you that wouldn’t be enough. This place, this tiny Greek town with its miniscule port and beach and steep streets and blue and white houses and these people, these strangers, felt more like home than anywhere ever had.

You sighed and watched the water glisten in the oranges and pinks of the sunset, trying to commit every detail of the little fishing boats and distant islands to memory.

‘Heyy Y/N.’ Cheslock had snuck up on your left and thrown an arm around your shoulders. ‘Sunset’s pretty isn’t it?’ ‘Yeah. I wish I could stay here forever.’ ‘What’s stopping you?’ Ah if only he knew. You couldn’t tell him about your troubles like this… right? You barely knew him. ‘Your soulmate?’ Ah he had guessed. ‘Yeah…’ you didn’t want to speak about this, not with him. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw his lopsided grin falter. ‘Sounds messy. I hope it works out.’ he sighed. ‘Thanks. I don’t know how that’ll happen but I hope so too.’ ‘We should get back to the Hostel. Agni, Soma and Mey-Rin invited me to go to the ancient ruins on that,’ he pointed to the island in the distance, ‘island. Soma said you could come if you want but I should warn you Agni wants to leave early.’ You considered. It might be fun to explore. ‘How early?’ You ask without looking at him, surveying the island. It was small enough for you to be able to walk all the way round the shore in a few hours. ‘Five am.’ Cheslock winced, like he was almost regretting agreeing to the trip. ‘We should get going then. If we want to get a full night’s sleep that is.’ He grinned. ‘Yeah.’ and grabbed your left hand. You almost pulled away, like his touch burned but you let him pull you towards where sand turned into tarmac.

Your soulstring twirled and wrapped around your linked hands in a swirl of vibrant red. Weird, it had never done that. You ignored it. ‘We’re going back to the Hostel!’ Cheslock called over to his friends. ‘Take a basket!’ shouted the guy you were almost sure was Agni. Cheslock sighed and waited for him to bring the food basket over.

You struggled up the steep main street back to the Hostel. At one point Cheslock had started pulling you behind him. He had tried to run up the hill while holding your hand but all he had managed was to make you walk a little faster. You spent the whole way back laughing like teenagers. Joking around and never once letting go of each other's hand.

Once you had stumbled through the Hostel door, Cheslock dumped the basket on a table in the kitchen, earning a few irritated looks from the other patrons. As you got ready for bed he told you the room you had picked was the one he and his friends always shared. Only you and Serena were newbies. There were ten beds and eight were taken up by their friend group.

The lukewarm shower you took was welcome after a full day of sweating in the heat of Greek summer. You watched the water wash over your skin and drip onto the floor while Cheslock plucked away at his violin, sitting on the floor on the other side of the door. He had walked you to the bathroom under the pretext that you might be lonely or get lost. You imagined the real reason was that he wanted in the bathroom after you so he wouldn’t have to wait for another patron to shower. He was good company anyway so you didn’t mind.

The Hostel wasn’t pristine, far from it, but it was homey. Everyone wound down for the night in different ways, the Midford siblings and Paula chattered about the walk they had taken up the cliffs near the beach to Soma while Agni lay in his bed and flew through a book. Gregory complained about the noise as he built a blanket fort with Edward’s bottom bunk, stuffing the edge of dark blankets under Edward’s mattress so they hung down like curtains around his bed. A pretty girl Cheslock told you was Mey-Rin flicked through tiktok until she fell asleep with her phone in her hand, a dance sound repeating annoyingly until Agni reached over to turn it off. Serena lay under her covers with her eyes closed and a faint smile etched on her lips, seemingly asleep already. Cheslock lay on your bed and wondered out loud what your little exploration team was going to pack to eat at mid-day on the island. The atmosphere was peaceful but exited, like no-one could quite wait for tomorrow’s adventures. You knew you were looking forward to them.

XXXX

That night you slept surprisingly well. Usually in places you didn’t know you could never fall asleep and stay asleep but you were out the whole night, dreaming of red strings and labyrinths. Up until Cheslock woke you up that is. He shook your shoulder gently whisper-yelling that it was time to get up to go to the island. You struggled to open your eyes, they were stuck shut by sleep and all puffy. When you managed to pry them open you were greeted with the extremely blurry form of Cheslock’s face way too close to your own. You whined a little, wanting to go back to sleep but he pulled your covers off you. The air around you was chilled with morning, not cold but enough to make you shiver. ‘Cold?’ Cheslock whispered. His face was so close to yours you could feel the warmth of his breath. ‘No just tired.’ ‘We leave in an hour you should get ready.’ he informed. You made a little noise of protest as he held your shoulders and made you sit up in your bunk. You had to duck your head so you wouldn’t hit it off the underside of the top bunk. ‘I’ll let you get dressed and put on sun cream, we’re eating in the kitchen, the others are already ready. Agni’s making sandwiches for lunch.’ he grinned then left the room, closing the door quietly because everyone else was still asleep.

You dragged yourself out of bed and slinked off to the bathroom to splash water on your face and spread a layer of sun cream over your whole body. Back in the bedroom you pulled on yesterday’s shorts, ignoring your engagement ring that was still in the pocket and a button up shirt with long sleeves. If you were going to be spending all day outside you’d better have something to protect your arms from the sun. You dumped the bottle of sun cream into your backpack with an empty bottle for water you’d have to remember to fill up and a cap and sunglasses. ‘I think that’s it. I’m sure I won’t need my phone and I don’t want it falling in the sea so I’ll leave it here.’ you whispered to yourself, picking up the backpack and traipsing down the stairs to the kitchen.

The contrast in atmosphere and lighting from the bedroom to the kitchen gave you whiplash. Passing from the mostly silent (apart from Edward’s light snoring) and dark sleeping area to a room where Soma and Cheslock were running after each-other round and round the table and Agni was shouting at them to stop… well if you hadn’t been woken up by splashing water on your face this definitely woke you. Mey-Rin ignored the chaos around her as she fiddled with her phone, trying to figure out if her portable charger worked.

You stepped into the kitchen just as Cheslock ran past the door. If the collision hadn’t knocked the air out of your lungs the black and white haired man wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to stop you from falling would have. He held you pressed against his chest a little too long. Long enough for you to get a waft of his shower gel and the product he used to keep his hair up. It was an almost strange mix of pine-tree and chemicals that somehow combined to smell like summer rain and make you heady. Your head was pressed against his collarbone, this was comfortable you thought. You tried not to compare hugging Cheslock to hugging your soulmate as you watched your soulstring swirl itself around his leg.

Agni coughed and asked you what you wanted in your lunch sandwich and you slipped out of Cheslock’s arms while answering. Cereal, milk and toast were laid out on the table, too much for it to be just for the five of you. You grabbed your pick as you asked why there was so much food. ‘It’s for the others, Agni’s the only one who can cook in our friend group.’ Mey-Rin answered, not looking up from her phone. It chimed and she did a little dance, the portable charger must work. ‘Put the milk in the fridge when you’re done.’ grumbled Agni. He was struggling to put an overfilled sandwich into a tupperware box. ‘Don’t squash it!’ cried Soma, running over to save his lunch. ‘Well if you hadn’t asked for so many fillings I wouldn’t have to.’ Their playful argument faded into the background as you locked eyes with Cheslock. He gave a crooked grin and winked. You felt your cheeks flush and immediately your engagement ring weighed heavier on your conscience. You would have to tell Cheslock about your soulmate soon or someone would end up hurt.

Once all the food was packed into a cooler bag with lots of water bottles, your little group slipped out of the hostel. It felt like your outing was a secret mission what with how everyone kept whispering. Cheslock even started humming the Pink Panther theme tune as you made your way down to the port.

An old man was sitting on a fisherman’s chair, waiting for you. When Agni and Soma approached him he stood and walked to meet them. You, Mey-Rin and Cheslock hung back as the duo spoke with the man. They seemed to have reached an agreement and Agni shook the man’s hand. Soma pulled out a small wad of cash and handed it to him. The old man asked Agni a question and Agni nodded. Then he called the rest of you over. ‘We’ve rented his boat for the day but we need to get back before 8pm. Got it?’ Everyone said yes and Soma stepped down into a motorboat that was just big enough to hold all of your group.

Once everyone was settled Agni took the helm and the motor stuttered to life. You stifled a laugh at the sound, it was like it was choking on water. Cheslock caught your eye and grinned as though he had had the same thought.

The “drive” over to the island was pretty uneventful. You put your hand in the surf, smiling at the strange dragging feeling. The water was turquoise, vibrant and lively. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the sea you would gladly have jumped off the boat and straight into the waves. The sun was slowly making its way to its apex, reflecting on the sea and making it glitter almost blindingly. A vague memory of a summer long ago on a speedboat on a lake filled your mind. You swished your hand, imitating a fish, just like you had done as a child. It erased all your fears for a moment and made you laugh. You were safe here, with strangers who were on their way to be friends. You didn’t have to grow up just yet. You kept swishing your hand through the surf with a wide grin until Soma got a facefull of water when the boat went over a particularly enthusiastic wave. He spluttered indignantly and complained about wet hair the rest of the way to the island.

Landing on the rocky beach at the bottom of a steep but grassy cliff was a little complicated. Mey-Rin and Cheslock hopped out of the boat into the shallows and helped drag it up the sharp stones. The boat seemed to protest this treatment with the scraping noise it made as it was pulled onto the beach. Cheslock helped you out of the boat, lending you a hand for balance as you set your feet down onto the unstable rocks by the boat. His fingers wrapped gently around your own when your foot slipped on the damp seaweed covering the beach.

‘You should be more careful about tripping around me, Love. I might start thinking you’re falling for me.’ he joked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You swatted at him ignoring the backflip your heart made and took the back-pack Agni was handing you.

The bag was pretty heavy but you were glad the tall man had refrained from asking you to carry the drinks. You were in charge of the snacks, packets of crisps and marshmallows and granola bars and a couple of capri-suns were stuffed into the bag so tightly that if you opened the zip even a little everything would burst out onto the ground.

Your little team split up and spent the morning exploring the island, though everyone except you had already been. They wanted to see what had changed and what had endured. Cheslock took you on a walk around the island and then to a huge olive tree that must have been at least a thousand years old and showed you the little door he had added to it. It was tiny really, made from bark, carved with a knife and slotted between two roots. It made the tree look like the disguise of a fairy palace. He asked you if you had any paper on you, you didn’t.

‘That’s fine, I brought some.’ he pulled a block of rainbow colored post-its and two pens from his pocket with a lopsided grin. He handed you a pen and told you to pick a post-it. ‘Why?’ you asked with a confused smile. ‘We write secret wishes on them and put them behind the door, the fairies will take them and make them come true.’ he explained. You picked out a square of paper that was a pretty cerulean colour, the same as the sea. And sat with Cheslock, your backs against the tree, thinking about what you could wish for. You could ask for a happy life with your soulmate, one where you loved them the way you were expected to. You could ask for a way out of this mess you got yourself into, trying to make everyone happy but yourself. You could wish for anything really. Cheslock folded up his post-it, a pastel pink sheet, and opened the tiny door to set it in the small space behind. He looked at you expectantly as you scribbled on the paper and folded it. He let you put your wish next to his and closed the door carefully.

‘Abracadabra.’ he wiggled his fingers at the tiny door with the most concentrated look you had ever seen on his face. ‘There! There’s no way it won’t come true now.’ ‘What did you wish for?’ you wondered. ‘That defeats the entire purpose of secret wishes doesn’t it?’ he teased, eyes sparkling with mirth at your curiosity. ‘I’ll tell you when it happens, promise.’ he stood up, unfolding his long legs from the cramped crouched position he had been in and hopping a little when he was fully standing. ‘Hungry?’ ‘Yeah, starving actually. It’s got to be time to eat right?’ you hoped. ‘It’s half eleven, so yeah.’ He grinned. ‘Agni said to meet at the ruins for food.’ You followed him as he strolled towards the middle of the island, thinking guiltily about what you had wished for.

You should have wished for something that would have fixed your life even if the possibility of the notes being granted was low. But no.

The ruins were right at the top of the island, in the middle on a small hill. The white stone almost glowed in the midday sun. Soma thought it had been a palace; Mey-Rin argued that it couldn’t have been because of the columns. The five of you settled in the middle on an intricate but worn mosaic in the welcome shade of a tree. Agni handed out the sandwiches and Mey-Rin set up the drinks out of the cooler-bag that had somehow been stuffed into her back-pack. You paired your sandwich with a bottle of chilled fruity Epsa and savoured them both while listening to Soma and Cheslock bicker about who would get to drive the boat back. Agni settled the debate by reminding everyone that the owner had said no one but himself could drive.

After lunch Soma and Mey-Rin went off to climb down the other side of the island to check out the cave. Agni asked you and Cheslock if you wanted to help with the bonfire to which you happily agreed. You spent the best part of the afternoon gathering dry wood and taking rests to reapply sun cream once in a while. You had watched curiously as Cheslock wandered quite far away, towards the fairy tree to pick up sticks. He came back with the brightest lopsided grin you’d ever seen and an armful of wood. You assumed he was proud of himself for finding so many sticks and smiled to yourself at his childishness. By the time the sun had started to lower Agni, Cheslock and yourself had managed to gather a small mountain of wood.

You helped Agni start a fire with old newspapers and the smallest sticks in the pile while Cheslock lay back, propping his head on his bag. Mey-Rin and Soma returned from their excursion with their pockets full of cool stones as well as a large seashell that Soma handed to you saying he thought you might like a souvenir. The shell looked like someone had taken a snail and pulled on its home until it was elongated and dotted it with pretty brown and white spots of enamel. You turned it carefully in your hands, inspecting it under all its angles. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Cheslock watching you.

‘Want to see?’ You suggested. He shrugged in answer and held his hand out for the shell. You went to place it in his palm but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down to him. You landed on the grass with an “oof” and a laugh, folding your legs under yourself. He took the shell from you and pretended to eat it jokingly. ‘Hey!’ Protested Soma from over by the fire. He had a marshmallow in each hand and was trying to get someone to hold a stick for him to impale them on. ‘Don’t eat my best find Cheslock! You ass!’ Cheslock nudged you and you laughed together at Soma’s distraught face.

You enjoyed the other half of your sandwich, listening to Soma and Mey-Rin talk about their afternoon exploring the cave and the beach. As Mey-Rin was describing Soma tripping over some seaweed, calling it “the most comical thing she had ever seen” a bubblegum pop song rang out, cutting off the end of her sentence.

‘Oh! That’s my soulmate!’ she smiled and fumbled to pick up the call, apologising for the interruption and wandering off to sit on the ruined bottom of a column. The conversation lulled as Mey-Rin laughed happily.

Ten minutes later she returned, commenting on how strange it was that there was phone service on this tiny deserted island.

‘Sorry about that, I have to answer when she calls since she lives so far away.’ the brunette apologised. ‘In Australia!’ added Soma with a playful nudge in Mey-Rin’s ribs. ‘Yeah. We met when I was in college over there, I had to come back here and she had to stay. Long distance isn’t the most fun but we’re okay. We’re fated after all.’ she paused, thinking. ‘Wish she was here though. I’d be glued to her all the time, like you and Agni.’ she teased Soma. ‘Hush.’ he shot back with a grin.

You never would have guessed they were soulmates, you said so and Agni elaborated. ‘We chose to be platonic soulmates only. I’m pretty sure that the universe decided I should be Somas because he can’t take care of himself.’ Agni laughed quietly at the glare Soma aimed at him. You caught yourself wishing your soulmate and yourself had been platonic. The ring in your pocket felt hot against your thigh. Mey-Rin, Soma and Agni then looked at Cheslock with a “do you want to talk about yours?” kind of look. Like it was a touchy subject that he didn’t speak about often.

‘Alright. I guess they’ll have to find out eventually. Might as well.’ He caught your eyes looking like he was anticipating something painful. ‘I’m stringless.’

Oh. Oh.

You should not be so happy he’s unattached. Being stringless was horribly painful from what you had seen on online forums. Most stringless people spent their whole life watching their loved ones finding their fated, knowing they would never have that. That they didn’t have a perfect other half, that the universe didn’t think they needed one. Or that they weren’t worth giving one to.

‘I know that people can be happy without soulmates but I feel left out sometimes. All my friends have soulmates, why didn’t I get one?’ He sighed. ‘What about you Y/N?’ You almost flinched. ‘I feel bad complaining about this when you don’t have a soulmate… My soulmate well, they’re my best friend but they want more. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love them the way they expect me to.’ ‘Bet you wish you were stringless huh?’ Cheslock joked, a bittersweet taste in his mouth. ‘I mean… kinda. I wouldn’t have to put up a front for my family and friends who all expect me to have a perfect life with my soulmate. Sorry is that insensitive?’ Cheslock laughed. ‘A little but don’t worry, I’m used to it.’ No-one spoke, trying to figure out how to make the situation less uncomfortable. ‘Sorry Cheslock…’ you apologised. ‘Call me Ches, will you?’ he forced a smile. ‘Okay…’ ‘Come on, everyone have a marshmallow.’ Cheslock picked up the open packet of marshmallows that was sitting by his ankles and passed it around.

Agni had been checking his watch more and more often throughout the meal. After ten minutes of uncomfortable silence he said; ‘We should leave, it's almost time to give the boat back.’

Once your little exploration group had returned to the hostel Cheslock went off to the kitchen to get something more to eat. You hurried to shower and get into bed so you wouldn’t have to face his sad expression. You knew it was selfish but a small part of you was relieved he didn’t have a soulmate. The small flame you had been nurturing for him hurt a little less.

You heard someone coming up the stairs and opening the door to your dorm. You squeezed your eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Cheslock stood at the bottom of the ladder to his bed for what seemed like forever. You didn’t move a muscle and forced your breathing to stay even and slow. You didn’t know why you were avoiding him but you felt like you had to. Maybe you didn’t want to hurt him… or get hurt yourself.

#Cheslock x reader #Cheslock/reader #anime #fanfiction #kuroshitsuji #fluff and angst

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