#it was so hard to choose only two childhood shows cause they meant the world to me lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ppersonna · 3 years

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swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary- after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks and @hongism for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily.

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it.

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water.

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk.

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo.

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?”

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above.

“You call Jimin a prince?”

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband.

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.”

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.”

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own.

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.”

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.”

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid.

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom.

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed.

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it.

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can.

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone.

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway.

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk.

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read.

He just matched with YOU.

His best friend.

His secret, lifelong crush.

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it.

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen.

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other.

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message.

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone.

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend.

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone.

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion.

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff.

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband.

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line.

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend.

“It’s nothing!”

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.”

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off.

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams.

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback.

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures.

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen.

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is.

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork.

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you.

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause.

“What’s up?” He asks curiously.

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner.

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours.

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own.

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to.

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator.

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze.

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face.

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest.

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others.

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park.

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too.

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth.

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm.

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing.

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it.

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck.

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes.

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently.

“And I promise to never run away from you again.”

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself.

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with.

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing.

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss.

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours.

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly.

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?”

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement.

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.”

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited.

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs.

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more.

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable.

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan.

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently.

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue.

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue.

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully.

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.”

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body).

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are.

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down.

“Still dreaming?”

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire.

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes.

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout.

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?”

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug.

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing.

“I plan to find out everything.”

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.”

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss.

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you.

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body.

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands.

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.”

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off.

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt.

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation.

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion.

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship.

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister.

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

Awsamdude/Technoblade- Rumor Has It

For my beloved @sugarandspicebutnonice

Warnings: sexual innuendo

Techno was a great Prince. He worked hard to keep his family's name in good graces. All of Phil's boys worked hard to keep their names held high with respect. Tommy was known around for keeping sprits high, any ball or formality with Tommy was always known as the best to attend.

His older brother Wilbur was a skilled artisan with music. Always teaching and making new sounds like it wasn't any struggle. Anyone could find him out in the court yard with a guitar in hand. Humming and singing a casual song.

The eldest, Technoblade was a skilled swordsman and statists. Anytime he was called into a meeting, the others shuddered knowing he would trump them all. He made swinging a sword look like art. Trust me, you would know.

You had a wonderful relationship with techno for a long time. But sadly, you both had parted away from each other. Of course, it was on all good terms, He was more concerned with the kingdom rather than establishing a strong and sturdy relationship.

You, being a knight- fully understood. But you also choose to be a bit selfish about it. You truly wished for him to give you a bit of attention at least when together. He could be such a ladies man when he choose to in public, yet when it came to the two of you he just became closed off and anything but warm. Even behind closed doors it was lacking some spark of passion.

So you both agreed it was best to let things lie.

But what left you with a sour taste was how quickly he moved on.

You would give him the benefit of the doubt of course, he was a well known man. She could have been someone he had met previously, and during your break off she was there to talk it out with him.

She, she ain't real

But something about her screamed fake, her smile and movements seemed too thought through. Her words all laced with a sickening sweet hum, it also didn't help she giggled at basically anything techno said.

Plenty of times you sat with the general and talked about how dense she came off. Respectfully, you had assumed Tech would have went for a well educated woman such as yourself. But after seeing her- you wondered if that type was in short supply.

Anything she did, she would just bat her eyes and he was wrapped around his finger.

It honestly made Sam and you laugh.

She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will

As much as you started to loathe the woman, techno wasn't yours anymore. Thus you started getting closer to Sam. Both of you connecting on how your past relationships had been. Well you were casted aside, Sam was flatly cheated on.

Of course knowing that, your heart ached for him. Sam was a well educated and handsome man with a heart of gold. Respectfully his whole job was centered on protecting and serving the people.

Jumping into a relationship was Sam was like practically nothing. You promised him all the love in the world, and just like you, he promised to give you the same.

And love each other you did.

She is a stranger

Techno did see you grow close to his general, and honestly it didn't set well with him.

He liked the woman he was with, but he also had known you since childhood. You both had played within the court yard plenty of times to claim it as your own.

Sam didn't do that with you. Sam had only started to know you when you joined the ranks.

Techno would often catch himself watching you and Sam spar. His eyes would watch as Sam's hand grabbed at your waist, gripping your hips and using his own to throw you off balance. He hated how close your bodies were.

At one point he couldn't help but pull you aside and ask why you let him touch you. But that conversation drove spikes through his heart. "How can you just let him touch you like that?! He’s practically all over your body! You wouldn't let me touch you like that- and You and I have history" he yelled not believing what he saw.

When your face twisted in front of him into disgust, he thought you were almost joking. "The hell is with you?! I'm not your girlfriend! Or don't you remember!?" You yelled at him. Lightly shoving him back from you. "Don't tell me where he can, and cannot touch me" You sneered. In all his years he never saw you so heated.

Sure, she's got it all

Truthfully you saw techno leave you as a drop to his pride. He dropped a knight for a soft noble girl. A girl babied all her life. You knew as soon as she was exposed to blood she would have fainted like a goat in pasture. But in the end of the day, you weren't sleeping with her so what did it matter?

But, baby, is that really what you want

Arguments between Technoblade and you had become more frequent. Sam let you duke it out, he knew he had no place to tell you to leave it be. Sam also didn't appreciate how fast Techno jumped onto your case about finding someone else.

Although he knew it irked you about Techno moving on, you never got in his face about it like he would. Sam viewed this as your way of showing you were the bigger person.

On one particular day he found the arguments amusing. Techno had started up again when Sam was publicly teasing you. Well techno found your back talking distasteful, Sam relished with how powerful you were.

Listening to techno ramble off on his pathetic reasonings left you a laughing mess, even to the point you cut his argument off. "Bless your soul, you've got you're head in the clouds, she's going to use you like a fool!" You laughed in his face.

His jaw tightened as he spat at your words, pointing at Sam. "You made a fool out of you General. She doesn't even love you- Your wasting your time on a-" at Tech's words you couldn't help but push back even harder for him targeting Sam.

"How dare you say that. Your common penny is getting around more than I- And, boy, she's bringing you down!" You called out. Putting a finger to his chest. "She made your heart melt- But its all a lie!" You didn't stop their, you had more to say to him. "She thinks your all that- a fairy tale prince to save her dreams! But you're cold to the core" you said to him. Causing him to back off.

"Besides. Now rumor has it she ain't got your love anymore"

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh

You weren't lying. Their were plenty of rumors going around saying she was sleeping with others besides Techno. Although Sam and you had no proof to this. Your hunches seemed right.

On one day, Sam had left for a out of village meeting. You really didn't mind, you trusted him enough and knew he wouldn't do anything behind your back.

But sadly you wished to go with him. Techno had asked for you to join him for a round of chess. Something you both greatly enjoyed when together. But now you knew there was meaning to the game.

Sure enough when you sat with in in the court yard, he brought up Sam.

"You know he is much older than you..." he said as he moved his knight across the board.

"And She is half your age" you said flatly. Picking your pawn up. "But I'm guessing that's the reason that you stayed" you said moving it to where you pleased. His brows drew together in slight anger. But he did try and keep his calm.

"I heard you've been missing me" he said, a small smirk growing on his lips. He found pride within those rumors. Knowing that you still supposedly whined and withered about for him.

Of course, you knew he was gravely mistaken.

"You've been telling people things that you shouldn't be" you said carefully. Knowing he was probably behind the rumors somehow.

Techno took this moment to see if he still had a effect on you. Usually during chess you both would flirt a bit. So naturally, he took the chance. "Like when we creep out and she ain't around" he said bemused, your face twisting into disgust again.

"I sneak out to see Sam... besides Haven't you heard the rumors" you said moving your queen. When he didn't respond you laughed. He didn't even under stand. "Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds" you said, fully amused within the moment.

"C'mon darlin... I know you fell hard for me when we started dating..." he cooed to you. Your eyes darting up like daggers.

"You made a fool out of me" you said to him. Wanting to get your point across. Well he moved his pawns about you took your moment to explain how you felt. "You make me sick to my stomach.. And, boy, you're bringing me down" you said softly. Smiling to yourself slowly. "You made my heart melt, yet I'm cold to the core" You said, moving your queen to take his knight. Your eyes slyly skimmed over his. His lost knight now within your fingers.

"But rumor has it I'm the one you're leaving her for"

After that game, rumors and tensions soared wildly. Sam at one point thought you were back and evolved with Techno again. Of course you explained to him the situation, which thankfully he understood and apologized for trusting second hand mouths.

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh

All of these words whispered in my ear

But Techno's mood plummeted fast...

Tell a story that I cannot bear to hear

A engagement, specifically Sam and yours. Oh how his blood boiled at the news. He thought his hands all over you was bad, but now... now you would take Sam's name in law. You would he his wife. Not Techno's.

Just 'cause I said it, it don't mean that I meant it

Because of this news he didn't hesitate to run and find you. More than hell-bent on giving you a piece of his mind. He wanted to make it clear you couldn't marry him.

People say crazy things

He didn't care what people would say, he wanted to claim you again. Techno didn't want anyone else touching you. He especially didn't want Him touching you.

Just 'cause I said it, don't mean that I meant it

Even if within the past week he yelled hurtful things to you, he hoped you would understand he just wanted to protect you from unworthy suitors. Sam couldn't provide for you like Techno could. Sam was a general born from a farmer. Technoblade was to be crowned king.

Just 'cause you heard it

So their he stormed. Heading to the stables, knowing full well that's where you were. His anger was fuming. He couldn't wait to shove it in Sam's face that Techno wouldn't let you marry him.

But lets just say Technoblade was the one left speechless in the end.

Rumor has it, ooh, Rumor has it, ooh Rumor has it, ooh,

Especially when he slammed the door open to the stables and saw Sam's body covering yours, your legs around his waist in a tight hold well he was buried deep inside you.

But rumor has it he's the one I'm leaving you for

#technoblade x reader #awsamdude x reader #techno x reader

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 303: And What, Pray Tell, Is a “One For All”

Previously on BnHA: The Todorokis (really just Enji) looked at their children and went “how can we screw up all four of them in uniquely different ways” and proceeded to do just that. Touya was all “just because practicing how to set myself on fire better hasn’t worked to win my dad’s affections YET doesn’t mean it will NEVER work”, because child logic. Turns out setting oneself on fire real hard isn’t so effective at winning affections, but is actually incredibly effective when it comes to burning oneself to death, so there’s that. Back in the present day, the Todorokis basked in their various misplaced (again, except for Enji) feelings of guilt, and were all “anyway but get over yourself already Enji, you still have to do something to stop this kid”, and Shouto was all “I’ll help too”, and Enji was all “(╥_╥)”, and Hawks and Jeanist were all “[surreptitiously listening in from outside the door]”, and that’s basically where we left off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks and Jeanist are all “mind if we join you on this family journey?” and proceed to stroll in uninvited with their puns and their perceptive insights. Hawks is all “so to sum everything up, we’re fucked, but at least you have us here to help you out! by the way, no clue why I’m the first person to ask this in three hundred chapters, but wtf is One For All.” We then cut to Deku, who’s still all “[(－－)]z”, and All Might, who is all “I’m just going to ignore the extremely loud racket going on right outside this room.” Which, btw, is happening on account of Bakugou, who is all “(╬◣Д◢)” as Satou, Tsuyu, and Mineta cart him away. Anyway so that’s a lot of antics, and also it looks like Hawks has gotten tired of the Todorokis refusing to put the pieces together on their own about OFA and so he is fast-tracking that shit. And meanwhile Deku is chatting it up with the Vestiges exactly like we all thought. And now we have to wait another whole week for updates on all of this. This really is not fair.

omfg lol

“our bad, we were kind of accidentally listening in on purpose.” like I said last week guys, no fuss. it’s a tradition

OMG

I am absolutely fucking floored. Hawks literally said that so casually that it’s impossible for me to rewrite it so as to be even more casual. that’s literally what I would write in the “today on bnha” section. in fact I probably will write that

(ETA: just for laughs I tried it and it really worked.)

a couple more things to point out about this panel:

“TOP 3” omg yes. more like “top only” at this point, honestly. interested to see how that goes

Hawks’s phone is freaking the fuck out about something, calm down there

I know this is a standard Jeanist hair-fixing gesture that he does all the time, but I can’t help but form hypotheses about this being a stress reaction because Hawks’s hair is making him internally freak out. Hawks, if this man tries to get you alone with him and some hairspray and a comb, please for the love of god do not listen to him. get out of there and call the authorities

omg Shouto’s face

okay confession, I wasn’t really sold on the whole “Shouto has a schoolboy crush on Hawks” thing until exactly now, when I became 100% sold on it. that is adorable

and heck with it, gotta show Enji and Rei’s reactions here as well because lol

“omg my son who’s not my son, and he just overheard everything about me being a terrible shitty father and person overall, oh and plus my actual-son set him on fire and called him out on a national broadcast. I’m just gonna stare at him baffledly.” versus Rei, who is all “hmm, who are these people”

so Hawks is all “I got released from the hospital after one day for some reason so I made Jeanist drive me around places while we talked about life” but uh, heyyyyy, what’s Rei doing

okay, uh

SO FUCKING FORMAL OMFG. “SORRY MY KID TRIED TO BURN YOU TO DEATH, APPARENTLY HE DOES THAT” REI NO IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

HAWKS IS ALL “I’M JUST GONNA LAUGH SINCE THAT’S MY DEFAULT RESPONSE TO BEING PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE”

let me tell you a secret Hawks, it’s my default response too. ahahahahahahaha oh thank god Jeanist is helping her up -- AND MAKING A JEANS PUN, OF COURSE. IT’S BEEN ALMOST THIRTY SECONDS. MY MAN WAS DYING

“WTF IS ILLEGAL DENIM” he’s talking ‘bout them counterfeit jeans, Rei. Antoine Bugleboy knows

THANK YOU JEANIST!! OUT HERE ASKING THE RELEVANT QUESTIONS

damn straight. we’re not gonna sit around waiting another 300 chapters for this information on this man’s watch

now Hawks is telling Endeavor he used to watch videos of him all the time, and calling him his “childhood obsession” I can’t

OH MY SWEET STARS AND MOONS

1000% CANON. “SO CLOSE...” ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU REALLY PUT THAT THOUGHT BUBBLE THERE AND EVERYTHING. “GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, SO JUST IN CASE YOU WEREN’T ALREADY AWARE, TODOROKI SHOUTO IS NOT ACTUALLY STRAIGHT.” HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I AM LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED. THIS IS AMAZING

and meanwhile that look on Hawks’s face while he casually-but-not-really-casually-at-all asks this question. that phone app better be using his actual voice. I’m not sure I could take this scene in the anime at this point if it was like Alexa talking or something

that look in his eyes is basically saying that so far, based on the information he has absorbed up until this point, Hawks is prepared to view his former childhood obsession as a flawed but changed man. however I get the distinct feeling that depending on Endeavor’s answer now, he would be willing to drastically shift some of his opinions on him

(ETA: this is maybe my favorite panel in the entire chapter. the fact that his question isn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes are zeroing on on Endeavor. and the way his leaning-on-Shouto pose manages to be simultaneously nonchalant and yet ever-so-slightly protective. there’s so much going on in this one question and gesture and I’m mildly obsessed with it.)

however, Rei is all “that was me” and ONCE AGAIN WITH THE FACES IN THIS CHAPTER holy shit

Hawks definitely did not see that one coming sob. it’s so fun watching him frantically recalculate his ideas about this family every two seconds

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI I UNDERSTOOD THE PARALLELS ALREADY, YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS

yes, Hawks, you get it. it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. though unlike your shitty parents, Rei and Enji are at least trying

OKAY I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WITH ALL OF THIS

fljkdlaskfjlwkjl okay we’re doing the bullet-points breakdown here

first of all, the fact that poor little Shouto’s heart is still thumping away at this proximity and all he can think is “CLOSE” all intelligently as he stares at him with that face omg

and meanwhile Horikoshi has these STRATEGIC BANDAGES WRAPPED AROUND HIS CHEEKS TO HIDE ALL OF HIS SHOUJO BLUSHING omfg. SENPAI NOTICED YOU SWEETIE!!!

HAWKS YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO OBLIGATION TO WASTE ANOTHER SECOND OF YOUR LIFE WORRYING ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES WHO NEVER SPARED YOU THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF REGARD OR CONCERN IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. THE NICEST THING YOUR MOM EVER DID FOR YOU WAS BUY YOU A $2 ENDEAVOR PLUSH FROM THE DISCOUNT BIN TO KEEP YOU QUIET, AND YOU WERE SO AWED BY THAT ONE ACT OF SORTA KINDA APPROXIMATE KINDNESS THAT YOU SHAPED YOUR ENTIRE WORLDVIEW AROUND IT. PLEASE LET ME PICK YOU UP IN A BIG HUG FOR JUST A SEC, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND YOU WERE ONE THOUSAND PERCENT JUSTIFIED IN LEAVING THEM IN THE DUST THE SECOND THAT YOU COULD

but all that said, he immediately recognizes that Shouto would also have had cause to do the same in his situation, and yet hasn’t. and so he has that much more admiration for him all of a sudden, which is just super sweet, and fully appropriate. Shouto does deserve props. I’m choosing to take this as an “it takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive, and people who choose to do that even though they’re not obligated to are really amazing" type of thing, as opposed to “people who don’t forgive other people who severely wronged them are bad.” and if I’m wrong and Hawks’s line here is meant to be seen as actual failing on his part, well then fuck that, but we’ll move on

SO NOW, DOWN TO BUSINESS!

I am so, so curious as to what kind of strategy Hawks has for this (if he even has any), so I’ll just be quiet now and read

so Hawks is summing up basically what we already knew -- that Tomura and his inner circle (curious that there’s no mention of AFO, because if Hawks doesn’t know about him, that implies almost no one does) are still on the lam with a few PLF stragglers and some High Ends; that a bunch of prisons have been “liberated” (I assume this means all of the inmates escaped, so if that’s the case then where’s Kurogiri??); that the HPSC is fucked; and that heroes are resigning all over the place, and so civilians are taking matters into their own hands

OH DAMN!?

does this mean we’ll actually see some international heroes?? I will LOSE MY DAMN SHIT omg

(ETA: apparently people who paid more attention to the first BnHA movie than I did recognized the silhouettes as belonging to some background characters from Two Heroes. so maybe they were just cameos and they’re not actually new characters who are soon to join us lol. oh well.)

anyway so Hawks agrees with the other Todorokis that Endeavor has no choice but to fight

awww

DON’T WORRY ENJI THEY’VE GOT YOUR BACK. WITH YOUR FLAMES, AND JEANIST’S PUNS, AND HAWKS’S BOYISHLY GOOD LOOKS, THE THREE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MINDS TO

so Enji is very pertinently asking why they’re standing by him in spite of the... [gestures vaguely to everything]

oh my lordy lord

Shouto you had better do something to combat this soon, or this man will sneak past you on my favorite character ranking after all. his face. his cheeky lil finger gun. the fact that he sums it up so fucking simply. “if someone is trying to do the right thing, I want to support them.” exactly. exactly

(ETA: and one last thing I love but forgot to mention, which is the fact that Hawks calls it a team-up despite the fact that he is clearly in charge.)

meanwhile Jeanist is all “as for me, at this point I just straight up don’t give a fuck”

I can’t handle how fucking cool this chapter is you guys

so Hawks is all “you good?” at Enji. and Enji...

if anyone needs me, I will be building myself a discourse-proof fort made entirely out of problematic characters. I don’t even care. I will go on living my life very happily in here

lol at Natsu being all “BUT DON’T THINK THIS MAKES US FRIENDS”

I’m living for this weird and no-doubt entirely unintended implication that Natsu and them all are gonna join in the fight with the rest of them. I mean, they do presumably all have very powerful ice quirks. and Natsu has medical training on top of that, and Fuyu is skilled at getting eight-year-olds to behave which could be a useful talent for dealing with Tomura hahaha I kid, but I’M JUST SAYING. who needs hero licenses anyway

OH SHIT FINALLY SOME DISCUSSION OF AN ACTUAL STRATEGY. even if it’s just a PR strategy

WHAKLHL

and now for some reason we’re flashing back to Natsu and Fuyu’s attempts to navigate through the media crowd outside the hospital

well I guess this is why I’m not the mangaka. if I were writing this I would have done something trite and predictable like using that “One for All” line as an excuse to cut to Deku!! as opposed to this entirely unrelated scene!!

seriously though why do we need to see this lol

no one in this crowd has ever heard of Alexander Dumas huh. or even the popular 2007 Disney Channel original movie, High School Musical 2

so now there’s an entire page of Hawks saying they need to know what One for All is, and Endeavor having one of those patented Todoroki WHOOSH realizations lmao look at this

just wait until this man figures out that one of the scrappy new interns he took on three months ago was actually the main character all along

SKDFIOHWIERLKSJGLWLK!!

NOW IS PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO ASK MYSELF WHY I CHOSE THIS CHARACTER WHO KEEPS DISAPPEARING FOR SIX OR TWELVE OR FORTY CHAPTERS AT A TIME TO BE MY FUCKING FAVORITE. WELCOME BACK SON PLEASE DON’T SCREAM YOURSELF TO DEATH YOU STILL HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(ETA: can we just take a moment to appreciate how Bakugou even got so close to Deku’s room in the first place though. in this giant hospital with no idea of where to even go. does he have Deku Radar or something.)

YOU SIX ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY HIT LIST!! SPARE ME YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS!! MY BAKUDEKU REUNION KEEPS GETTING POSTPONED WEEK AFTER WEEK!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HEROES WHERE IS YOUR CONCEPT OF MERCY

(ETA: btw just to be clear, I’m not actually angry lol; it makes total sense that they don’t want this rampaging feral toddler who was still in his own coma all of fifteen minutes ago to come and start screaming at the other coma child until he tears all his stitches out. if there’s anything we Bakugou fans should be familiar with by now, it’s being patient.)

also, Tsuyu wrapping her tongue around Bakugou’s still-healing torso wound absolutely can’t be hygienic at all. also wait is that Inko??

(ETA: pretty sure it is her. she got all of one line smdh.)

Iida is all “thank god Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight pulled through, I thought for sure he was a goner back there”

for the record this is actually really sweet to see how relieved he is. he’s one of the few people who saw the original injury close up, back when he was still at the battlefield and unconscious, so I imagine it really did freak him out quite a bit

JIROUUUUUU

“sometimes I just like to stand here and tug on my imaginary suspenders, what of it”

how come you guys get to loiter around Deku’s room but Kacchan doesn’t. god fucking dammit. AND WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

I BET KACCHAN COULD WAKE HIM UP FROM HIS COMA WITH THE POWER OF RIVAL INTENSITY!! BUT NOOOOOOOO, [is dragged away back to my fort]

OH MY GOD!?!

"this seems to be an entirely normal and above-board situation that we have just stumbled onto”

I see Jeanist comes from the Iida Tenya school of respectfully using people’s full names

Jeanist becoming one of the main characters is the best thing to ever happen to this series

EXCUSE YOU, IIDA

BUT I’M SURE HE’D MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR KACCHAN THOUGH!! [elbowing my way back out of the fort] HAWKS, PLEASE --

DON’T GO ALL OMINIOUSLY PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER ALL ON YOUR OWN GODDAMMIT

“there’s absolutely no way this angry wriggling shoulder burrito kid here could answer literally all of my questions, so I’ll just ignore him”

OH MY GOD WE’RE FINALLY CUTTING BACK TO HIM BUT THE CHAPTER IS ENDING

[jumps up, throws a folding chair at Iida and the rest of the gang, and then runs]

oh my god. actually this chapter was awesome. but I’m so fucking mad at this cliffhanger though lol

at least we got a couple of answers! and some hints and teases! poor Deku looks so worn out even though he’s asleep dlwkjl my little green baby. and is it just me or is his quirk activated?? All Might’s all “I can feel it” as if it isn’t obvious just looking at him, why are you trying to be all mysterious dude

anyway! so at least we finally have confirmation and a date for those vestige antics at long last. looking forward to meeting Mister The Fourth next week so we can finally ask him “hey dude, what the fuck”

#bnha 303 #takami keigo #hawks #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #endeavor #best jeanist #todofam #bakugou katsuki #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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petri808 · 3 years

Note

hiii i am absolutely obsessed with ur drabbles could u please do nalu #4 and #39 pls🥺

“Walk out that door and we’re through” + “Please come home, I miss you”

This was tough cause the questions could trigger a story similar to this one I also did for these prompt asks round. But I think I can make it different enough, albeit angst hell 😅 here we go! It’s a little rushed but longer then I expected for a ficlet lol

“Lucy,” Natsu knocked at the office door, “it’s time to go.”

“Where?” She answered without looking up.

“Levy’s birthday party.”

“Oh!” Lucy sat up in her desk chair and turned her body to face her husband. “Right! I forgot. Um, shucks, but I’m on a writing high right now and I can’t stop— tell her I’ll make it up to her, will ya?”

She always says that… Natsu sighed, “yeah, sure…”

Levy Redfox was Lucy’s childhood best friend and while the woman was also his friend, it just didn’t sit well with Natsu that she’d choose writing over the woman. But this had been an ongoing issue lately... Don’t get him wrong, he fully supported his wife’s career as an author, especially now that it’s really starting to take off. The issue was it had consumed her at the expense of everyone around her.

He knocked on their friends door, answered by Levy herself.

“Natsu!” Levy hugged the man excitedly, but when she noticed he was alone, frowned a tad. “Again, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Levy,” Natsu’s shoulders slumped. “Lucy’s in a,” he made quotation marks in the air, “‘writing high,’ and said she’ll make it up to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you came,” the woman smiled despite the sadness hiding behind her eyes.

All of their closest friends were in attendance and spent the evening talking, eating, and playing a few fun birthday games. It distracted him to some extent, but as the night wore down and the other guests had all left, Natsu, his best friend Gray Fullbuster, Levy, and her husband Gajeel sat around in the living room talking about the elephant in the room. Lucy.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Levy said quietly, “but, I try not to make it sound too harsh.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do babe,” Gajeel chimed in. “Be blunt.”

“Yeah, I’m like you,” Natsu agreed with Levy. “It’s not easy to bring it up cause she’s oblivious about it.”

“But it’s hurting your marriage man!” Gray looked at Natsu. “And your friendship,” he switched to Levy. “I’m with Gajeel. If you aren’t honest with her, it’s not gonna get better.”

“Think I don’t know that?!” Natsu spat back. “Think I enjoy being the only one in that house in pain?! I don’t, but—” his voice cracked, “I’m worried I’ll push her away if I say something.”

“She’s already pushing you away dude. Do you still love her?”

“Of course, I do,” Natsu sighed. “I love her more than anything, but apparently it’s not enough… we haven’t even… you know, I can’t remember the last time.”

“Wow… Then you really gotta tell her. All of it,” Gray coaxed.

Levy who’d sat quietly through the back and forth, chimed in quietly. “Gray’s right. You should tell her, when you go home, just tell her how you’re feeling. And whatever happens, happens. We can just hope for the best.”

“You know you’ll be the first to hear from her if I do,” Natsu pointed out.

“I know. But… it’s time I come clean too.”

Natsu slumped back onto the couch and let out a depressed exhale. “And you,” he looked to Gray. “You know if it goes wrong I’ll be showing up at your door.”

“My couch has your name on it.”

“Gee, thanks.”

That had to be the longest drive home Natsu had ever taken, even though it was really just 10 minutes. He was a physical person by nature and never been very good at expressing his feelings in words. Words were his wife’s domain. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but his biggest fear was saying things wrong. With his hand on the doorknob, Natsu took one last breath and opened the door to her office. He knew before entering, Lucy was still working by the clacks of the keyboard and interrupting would immediately cause friction. But he couldn’t wait anymore.

“I’m home,” Natsu called out… with no response. He sighed and spoke more sternly. “Lucy. I’m home.”

“Oh, welcome home,” she finally responded. “How was the party?”

He knew it was an empty question, because she never even looked up or stopped typing and it meant she wasn’t really listening. “Lucy… we need to talk.”

“I’m kinda busy Natsu.”

“I know, but you’re always busy Lucy. That’s part of the problem.” The moment the last word came out, Natsu knew instantly he’d picked the wrong one. Crap.

Lucy stopped typing, turned off the screen and shut the laptop. “Problem?” She turned the chair around with her eyes narrowed in a focused glare. “What do you mean, problem?”

“Lucy,” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t want to fight, but we need to talk— there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Like what?” She crossed her arms. “What is so important that you need to mess with my job?”

There it was.

“I’m not trying to do that,” he sighed. “You know how proud I am of your career. But, it feels as if you’re choosing your career over everything else in your life. Me, your friends, we’re all just being pushed aside—”

“Are you kidding me?!” Lucy shot out of her chair shaking in anger. “I am not doing any of that! I’m not pushing anyone away! Y-You’re the one who’s acting selfish trying to tell me I’m not giving you enough attention! And don’t you bring Levy into this! If this was bothering her she’d tell me!”

“It does bother her! But she’s afraid of getting,” he gestured with his hands up and down at Lucy, “this reaction! Is it selfish to want to spend some time with my own wife?!” Natsu growled. “We never spend time together anymore! You’re just always hunched over that damn computer!”

“I’m doing my job!” Lucy shrieked. “I have deadlines to meet! This story ain’t gonna write itself! Research ain’t gonna materialize on its own! It’s a lot of work!”

“Lucy,” Natsu pinched his brows together, trying hard to stop from snapping further as well as to control the tears building in his eyes. “I love you, more than anything in this world, but I don’t know what happened to the woman I’d married. The old Lucy wouldn’t abandon her loved ones like this.”

“You’re just mad because I’m successful now.”

“That’s bullshit! And you know it! No job is worth losing the people you care about, and if you can’t understand that, then, I don’t know what else to say!”

“Then I guess there isn’t anything more to say,” she spat back.

“I guess not.” Natsu answered softly, turned and left the room.

He’d already assumed confronting Lucy about her precious career would not end well, and he was right. Staying would only cause more trouble. So, he quietly packed a suitcase to go to Gray’s house, making sure to bring anything he’d need because he had no idea how long he’d stay there. He’d said his peace; it really was all in Lucy’s hands now.

Back in her office, Lucy dropped back down into her chair as the full weight of what just transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She cradled her face in her hands as the anger that had fueled her response suddenly mixed with sadness. Tears flowed free. Did that really just happen?! She could hear Natsu moving around in the bedroom, the opening of drawers, the closet, the zipping sound of the suitcase, each and every step driving a knife deeper and deeper. How dare he tell her to stop writing! This was her dream! Her livelihood! Why couldn’t he just support her instead of acting like a child who wasn’t getting attention!

When she heard Natsu walking towards the front door area, Lucy raced out of the room to confront him one last time.

“Walk out that door and we’re through!” She screamed. “Do you hear me? We’re through!”

Natsu ignored her words knowing it was the anger talking… hoping it was just the emotions fueling her rage. “I’ll be at Gray’s,” he simply responded with a hint of sadness in his tone. “You should really think long and hard about this Lucy, because if not, you’ll lose a lot more than you realize.” And with that, he closed the front door behind him.

Lucy crumpled to the ground and wailed— raged, banging the floor with her fists as the sobbing overtook her. She truly could not understand what brought this on. Hadn’t she been a good wife?! Faithful! Hard working! What more did he want?! All she was doing was trying to make it in the cut-throat world of publishing. Does he not understand how hard it is to make it in that world?! She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial Levy’s phone number. But just as she got to the last two numbers, she stopped. It was already 1 am, and it would be rude to wake her friend up. Lucy sniffled and hung her head in shame before dragging herself back towards the bedroom. She’ll just call in the morning.

When Levy answered the phone, Lucy was slightly taken aback by the response. Not a hello, just a, ‘I wondered when you’d call.’ Evidently the woman was expecting it, but she was too tired to let it add to her problems. She hadn’t slept much after Natsu left— no surprise. She was still angry, but also confused, sad, and just mentally drained of life. Her friend agreed to come over in a bit, so Lucy dragged herself into the shower hoping it would make her feel better.

“Wow, you don’t look good,” Levy remarked at her friend.

“Hi to you too,” Lucy mumbled as she moved to the side to let her friend in. “Who would after a fight?”

Once settled on the couch, Levy went straight to the point before Lucy could even begin. “I already know what this is about. I know Natsu’s side, so start with yours.”

“Wow— okay, well—” Lucy pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath her body in a protective mode. “He tried to tell me to stop writing and I thought that was bullshit,” she said bluntly.

Levy’s brow raised. “Is that exactly what he said? To stop writing?”

“W-Well no, but that what he implied!”

“What did he say exactly?”

Lucy looked away, a scowl growing on her face and to hide the renewed moisture in her eyes. “He said I’m pushing everyone away.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“No! I’m not choosing my career over everyone! It’s ridiculous to even imply that I would!”

“Lu, do you still love your husband?”

“Of course, I love him!”

“Are you sure he knows you still love him?”

“I—” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and sunk further into the couch mumbling. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

“I can tell you, he doesn’t. Lu, you’ve pushed all of us away.”

“So, you’re taking his side?!”

“No. I’m giving you reality. You’ve been wrapped up in your fictional world so much that you’ve forgotten this one and the real people in it.”

“I—” Lucy turned away to hide the tears slowly starting to trickle down her face. “I never meant to…”

“I know…” Levy placed a hand on her friends leg. “Lu, we all know. He knows, but he’s hurting and it’s in your power to fix this.”

“But how?! I can’t just stop writing. I have deadlines and— you know, its a lot of work to put a story together.”

“You have to find a balance. Right?” Levy coaxed. “You have to take breaks. You have to relax sometimes. Natsu’s not asking you to stop, and he knows there will be times you really can’t stop. But it can’t be all the time, and right now it’s all the time.”

“I know…”

“Girl when was the last time you…” Levy wiggled her brows and grinned. “You know.”

Lucy blushed. “Too long.”

“Well?!” Levy laughed. “Are you finally getting our point?”

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I got tunneled vision.”

Levy leaned in, adding pressured from the hand on Lucy’s leg and a softening in her voice. “And it put your marriage in jeopardy. But it’s not too late to fix it.”

The tears exploded from Lucy. “I told him… when he left, I-I told him don’t come back.” She buried her face in her hands as the sobbing took control. “I-I was screaming at him… so angry, I just lost it and—”

Levy pulled Lucy into a hug. “Shhh,” she held tight. “I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it. Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean when we’re mad. But you can still get him back, I’m certain of it.”

“H-how?!” Lucy sobbed into Levy’s shoulder. “He’s gotta be so mad at me!”

“Hun, Natsu’s more sad then mad. He needs to feel like you still love him.” Levy pulled away and cupped Lucy’s cheeks, staring, searching the woman’s eyes. “Can you tell him you love him?”

“I can tell him I love him,” Lucy sniffled.

“Then go tell him that!” She hugged her friend. “You’ll be okay Lu, you two are meant to last.”

“Thanks, Levy.”

“He’s at Gray’s right? Want me to drive you?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Levy smiled. “Now clean up a bit, I’ll wait in the car.”

The whole ride over to Gray’s house was the most nerve wracking experience in Lucy’s life. As she sat there huddled in Levy’s passenger seat, all the ways she could ever apologize tried to funnel through her head. She was a writer, and yet for the first time in a long time, all the words dried up or mashed together like a broken verse. Levy did her best to keep Lucy calm, reminding her that it’s all about being honest— just let your heart do the talking for once and not her head.

“You got this,” Levy patted Lucy’s shoulder before she exited the vehicle.

Lucy sure hoped she did. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Seconds ticked by and with each chime, all the weight and worry crept closer to sending her over. He was mad. Too mad. He probably won’t answer…

Finally someone did. “You came?” Natsu’s voice was soft and low, his eyes still bloodshot and worn.

“I came,” Lucy hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry— F-For everything, Natsu please come home, I miss you. I love you more than my job, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“You always say that Lucy…”

Ouch. Straight through her heart. The tears broke free again as her knees weakened, causing her to fall against him. Natsu caught her, and she clung to him, gripped to his shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please come home! I love you! Natsu please come home! I can change! I promise I’ll change!”

That’s when she felt his hold truly tighten around her body and his head come to rest against her own. Lucy sobbed harder from the acceptance, pouring her heart in her words. “I love you… I love you so much, I’m so sorry….”

Natsu cradled her head and closed his eyes, voice soft with an upbeat to its tone. “Now there’s the woman I married.”

He held Lucy tightly until her sobbing slowed, eventually pulling away just enough to wipe the tear trails away. “Shall we go home now?”

Lucy nodded. “Please….”

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu ficlet #nalu fan fiction #angst #asks and answers

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desiredmalfoy · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling.

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong.

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley.

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others.

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school.

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n).

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist.

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her.

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight.

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms.

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her.

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend. But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near.

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing.

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying.

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this.

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry.

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George? “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them.

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden.

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden.

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. .

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do.

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days.

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand.

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence.

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide.

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it.

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her.

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket.

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours.

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.”

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter.

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way. She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination.

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him.

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently.

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner.

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you.

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her.

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy

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phantasmagoriaoriginals · 3 years

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Here There be Monsters: Mage Basic Intros (Part 2)

Cybele

She/her, ??? Mage.

Around three hundred years ago, Cybele wanted to help find peace between humans and Creatures. To do this, she found a way to merge with magic itself, change her form, and become something that the world would listen to. From there, with new, unheard-of powers, she formed the Organization and shaped it to work toward her goal and dream.

While Cybele started out as a remarkably kind, gentle, loving person, her passions reached heights greater than she was meant to handle. Merging with magic turned her into something inhuman, and as it is, she’s slipped into a dream-like mental state where she only sees the reality she wants to. She’s lost in her own head and forgetting the world around her.

Cybele’s magic is unique in that she can use all seven kinds with near mastery. This should be impossible, however, and the consequence of such power is the slow deterioration of her mental state.

5′6, early 30′s (physically). Statuesque, shapely build, gentle, pleasing features, and light, rosy skin. Waist-length, golden-blonde, curly/wavy hair with distinct bangs, ocean-blue eyes with a bright sparkle in them. A soft smile almost always graces her lips, and her eyes are kind.

Gisette

She/her, Blue Mage.

Born to a high-ranking Mage family, Gisette spent her youth with high expectations. She was supposed to be perfect from day one— with all the constant work that comes with that. Indeed, she grew to reach a powerful position in the Organization, but along the way, she’s become jaded to the world and the supposed purpose of making it better.

Stern, strict, and severe, Gisette is the kind of person who doesn’t need to be big to be terrifying. She holds high, hard-earned authority, and her very posture makes it clear she knows it. An outstanding strategist, Gisette has spent years with the weight of responsibility heavy on her shoulders, choosing“should” over any “want” she may have had.

Gisette’s magic involves bringing written messages to life. This mainly suits her work as a strategist and organizer, as she can send moving, encrypted, and physically activated text wherever she pleases.

5′4, early 50′s. Waist-length, dark brown, almost black hair usually worn in a high bun. Dark gray eyes, pale skin, a fair amount of wrinkles. Usually wears earrings. Despite being a petite woman with a fairly slight build, the way Gisette carries herself shows her status well.

Maximus

He/him, Red Mage.

Like Gisette, he was born to a powerful Mage family and experienced much of the same pressure. The two were childhood friends and held feelings for each other from a young age. Maximus was the one who could never quite let go of them, even after Gisette gave up on her personal longings in favor of what she knew she had to do.

The opposite of Gisette in almost every way, Maximus is animated, dynamic, and imposing. His physical size makes most people cower, but his boisterous nature either sets them at ease or makes it worse. While he’s more than capable of taking things seriously, a beaming smile and openly held passions get him where he wants to be.

Maximus’s magic involves augmenting his physical strength. Instead of merely utilizing his energy, he doubles it back and ups his capacity for strength and movement, giving him nearly superhuman capabilities.

6′10, early 50′s. Huge, heavily muscled, powerful build. Shoulder blade-length, curly/fluffy hair a shade of blue so pale it’s almost white, almost always restrained in a low ponytail. Tanned skin, dark crimson eyes, chiseled, handsome features, and a good few wrinkles from age.

Rosaria

She/her, Green Mage.

Aurora’s older sister. From a young age, she was considered a prodigy at Green magic and was showered in the attention and praise that followed. While she remains a sweet, caring person, Rosaria’s outlook toward the world and other people has been distorted by the way she was treated growing up. She can be quite oblivious and ignorant.

Charismatic and sociable, Rosaria is the picture of the person everyone loves. Between her gift for magic and her skills with interpersonal relations, she’s well-respected and well-loved by almost everyone around her. Rosaria is quite a friendly, cheerful, and kind person, but she struggles with considering others’ feelings properly.

Rosaria’s magic is typical Green magic— drawing from the world around her to manifest various effects. In her specific case, she augments both her physical strength and her speed capabilities.

5′9, late 20′s. Tall, curvaceous build with an hourglass figure. Short-cut, chin-length white hair worn in a bob that frames her face. Wide, deep gray eyes with a slight green tint to them and pale lashes. Her features are quite appealing and she always seems to be wearing a smile.

Adrian

He/him, Yellow Mage.

In his early teenage years, Adrian made a mistake with his magic that caused his body to stop aging. He’s forever stuck at the age he was when the incident happened, even though his mind continues to develop. He became a skilled Mage nonetheless... but life seems to never give him a break. An unfortunate incident with a girlfriend was the tipping point.

Adrian is intellectual, poised, strict, and somewhat snobby. He has the personality of s stuck-up professor, and definitely enough ego to mirror it. Despite being internally depressed and angry with the world, he’s determined to ignore his unpleasant history and pretend like he’s not miserable. He has more than his fair share of pride in himself.

The magic he uses involves bringing his words to life. When Adrian speaks a command with magical intent, it happens. He has to be quite careful with it, as the exact mechanisms are tricky and complex.

4′11, late 30′s. Adrian’s body is youthful, small, and unaging. Brown, past chin-length hair in a fairly straight cut, with bangs, and brown eyes only a few shades warmer and more hazel. Carries a near-permanent scowl and posture that conveys his pride and experience.

Gloria

She/her, Yellow Mage.

Formerly a Mage of high rank, Gloria’s magic started to affect her mind about a decade ago. From there, it’s been a slow slide into delusions and distorted thinking that have left her with a very different role. When she was younger, she loved her magic for what it could show her and the things she could experience, but now, she can hardly keep track of them.

Gloria used to be a composed, passionate woman who handled her job well and enjoyed every second of it. She was outspoken, bold, and graceful in both speech and mannerisms. After her magic changed her, though, she’s become very disorganized in thought. She has trouble telling what’s real, what’s tangible, and what’s in the present.

The magic that twisted Gloria’s mind is the ability to see into the past and future. While limited, it was highly useful, and she pushed herself too far with it, leading to her mind being unable to handle the information.

5′5, mid 30′s. Graceful, art-like build with a soft figure and not a lot of muscle. Caramel-brown hair worn in a shoulder-length style with longer sidelocks, shining, golden-hazel eyes, and fair skin. Her eyes have a vacant, spacey look in them more often than not.

Coulson

He/him, Blue Mage.

For the most part, Coulson has a normal past. He fought his way through education and training to be as skilled as he currently is, and that fight gave him an unhealthy amount of pride. He’s always been competitive and authoritative, and can’t stand others besting him in any way. He worked his way into the Organization for the sake of power.

Coulson is strict, self-absorbed, and demanding of others. In his mind, he’s almost always the most capable person in the room and he acts like it. He’s a stickler for rules (when they suit him), dismissive of other people and their opinions, and aggressively fixated on his authority in the chain of command. He takes a lot of pride in his power and abilities.

For magic, Coulson uses a variety of small tattoos self-engraved into his body to create a variety of effects. He adds new ones quite frequently as he learns new applications and methods of utilizing them.

6′0, mid 30′s. Tall, somewhat lanky build with unnerving strength for how little muscle is visible. Dark blue, curly hair slicked back on the right side and left loose on the left. Darker blue eyes, pale skin, and two silver piercings (right nostril and right earlobe) connected with a thin chain.

Rochia

She/they, Brown Mage.

A perpetual hard worker, Rochia grew up with a love of both machinery and magic. She enjoyed experimenting with everything she could get her hands on and seeing what worked. Once she joined the Organization, Rochia wound up assigned to a top-secret project that killed her optimistic view of the world, leaving her bitter and pragmatic.

Sharp-tongued, logical, and no-nonsense, Rochia is dedicated to her work— even when she hates it. She dislikes unrealistic fantasies and people who go against rules and sensible choices and favors those who devote themselves to something tangible with their whole hearts. Despite losing faith in the world, small parts of her still cling to hope.

Rochia’s magic is something of a mystery. It relates to creating and maintaining magical machines, but the exact nature of what she knows and does is kept secret by the higher-ups of the Organization itself.

5′2, mid 20′s. Petite and rather stocky in build, with few curves. Dark brown hair worn in a shaggy, somewhat messy pixie cut easily kept out of the way. Gray, brown-tinted eyes with perpetual dark circles underneath, light skin, and forming wrinkles at her brow.

#Here There Be Monsters #Cybele #Gisette #Maximus #Rosaria #Adrian #Gloria #Coulson #Rochia #Character Info

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antihero-writings · 3 years

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If These Walls Could Talk (Ch7)

(^^ Art commissioned from Junki Sakuraba on instagram and deviantart!!)

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too. The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Notes: Hey all! I am SO sorry this chapter took so long to come out. My perfectionism really got the best of me with this chapter. But I saw that S4 was on its way and that really lit a fire under my butt because I really do want to post my season 3 chapter before s4 comes out. I’m highly doubt I’ll accomplish it as it almost always takes me longer than I have to get a chapter out, let alone two, but I'll try, at least.

I really really hope you enjoy it!! If you enjoy this chapter, please please consider commenting. I assure you it’ll be more likely I’ll post the next chapter faster the more people comment on this showing you still enjoy this fic. Each comment is a little shot of energy and motivation for me.

Important! This chapter is meant to have aesthetic indentation in some places. So if you want to read it as-intended, please look it at on Archiveofourown at I_prefer_the_term_antihero on your computer or tablet!!

If you get here and are thinking “Wait, what was this fic about? What were the main themes?” then this would be a good time to reread/skim back through the earlier chapters. This is the climax of the fic and will (hopefully) be more impactful the more you remember about the rest of the fic and its many themes.

Chapter Summary:

"Go back whence you came! Trouble the soul of my Mother no more!" "How? How—How is it that I've been so defeated?" "You have been doomed ever since you lost the ability to love." "Ha—Ah... Sarcasm. 'For what profit is it to a man if he gains the world, and loses his own soul?' Matthew 16:26, I believe. "Tell me. What—What were Lisa's last words?" "She said 'Do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, then at least do them no harm. For theirs is already a hard lot'. She also said to tell you that she would love you for all of eternity." "Lisa, forgive me. Farewell my son."

Chapter 7: “Heart”

Hey there, Sunshine, the Room adds with a smile.

The Room forgot the sweet tang of breath. How gentle, how vicious. Like honey, like relief, like a cozy blanket and a fireplace. It came in great, gulping gasps, and living was painful after such long breathlessness, but hurt far less than being half dead.

The Room rushes to Castlevania, shaking it, saying, Open your eyes! Open your eyes! It’s Adrian. It’s our boy. My master. My sunlight. And Castlevania limply flickers open its eyes, for it cannot help but obey.

Obey to see the golden man standing in its doorway.

And it feels a jolt of warmth in its broken chest.

Alucard has returned home. He arrives at the doorstep with resolve in his closed fists and a sword on his tongue. The threat to the war they all knew he would be, and the Room promised it would rear him to be.

But he isn’t alone this time.

There are two humans by his side. One with fire in her fists—quite literally—the other with a barbed tongue at his hip.

Castlevania recognizes a crest on the clothing of one of them, gold and proud: The Belmonts. The ones who came with whips and scourges to defeat its master long ago. The ones whom Dracula and his Castle were bound together against in their undead war. The ones whom Dracula trusted his Castle to protect him from. The owner of the hold now beneath Castlevania. He has come to defeat its master like the rest…but this time the boy is by his side, and for that reason, the Castlevania is unsure how this will end.

“I terrify them,” the Belmont explains the plan, “Sypha disorients them, Alucard goes over the top and we support him.”

“Yes.” The Speaker confirms.

Alucard holds his sword out horizontally in front of him, unsheathes it, and speaks:

“Begin.”

Alucard is with the Belmont.

And Castlevania knows when it sees them, the fire in their eyes, that they are the intent that brought it here. That they have indeed come to kill its master once and for all. It had wished when the boy returned, it would be with the promise of hope. But there is no promise of life and the sparing of it this time.

They bring death inside with them; the war room is filled with war, blood and burns on its floors, but it is different this time, because this is not an ambiance, a continuation, a fact of life, it is a swift and fatal kiss—the end they said he would bring, once. The blood is rotten on the floors, but it doesn’t itch or burn. And the boy uses those techniques his father taught him on brighter nights about turning into things with teeth, and the ones his mother once taught him on sunnier days about how to make metal listen.

They did not bring life inside this time, not life of the same kind at least. The war, the death, has followed and swallowed them too, but not in the same way it has its master. They are not bloodthirsty. The cold the dark and the death are merely clothes they wear, they have not reached the deepest parts of them; there are still light-starved Rooms in their hearts waiting to breathe.

There is a song at their heels as they dance in rings of fire, with the wind and the moon, upon the blood and water Castlevania isn’t sure will come out of the carpet. It is a song that is all too familiar. It has been played here before, when other, more, less, holy Belmonts barged in long ago. A song of blood and tears.

Bloody tears its master cried once, for his wife when he realized they had taken something that could not be borrowed, bartered, or souled.

They’re bringing an end to the strife, and all the undead lives that facilitated it, and vice versa. They are cutting the puppet strings, and not all puppets can live without them.

Isaac fights the nameless soldiers on the staircase for its master…until he sees someone who is far from nameless.

Isaac’s reddened eyes meet Alucard’s golden ones. Alucard’s sword aims at him, but it hits the deadened flesh of the nameless instead.

Isaac runs to tell its master—Dracula, busy ripping out the heart of a nameless—who’s here; that his sun has returned, and at his side is magic and might.

Dracula knows the prophecy.

He’s willing to die—Issac. He stands before Dracula, his form barely able to shield three-quarters of Dracula’s, willing to give his feeble human life for Dracula’s indefinite undead one. He believes knowledge and will are more important than the blood of a good man. He believes in love, and loyalty is love of a sort. And it is Castlevania’s understanding that when someone is willing to live for something, they are also willing to die for it. This is the noblest of causes.

“You are the greatest of your people, Isaac. You have a soul, I think.” As Dracula says the words, he raises his hand, and the mirror shards behind them begin to rise. “Perhaps that is more valuable to the world to come than a dusty collection of books and apparatus.”

Lisa looks on from the portrait, and Castlevania thinks it is a look of pride. She always did stand for saving human lives rather than destroying them. Isn’t it funny that in what will perhaps be the deciding battle of this war, the one where his goals should possess him stronger than ever, it is the human who he values more than himself?

“Or perhaps you simply deserve a better fate than to die instead of me.”

“I choose my death, as I chose my life.” The words are stronger than iron.

“Then I regret only that I have taken a choice for you.” A hand at his shoulder.

Dracula throws him halfway across the world, to the kind of place Isaac was born in, and the kind of place Isaac least wants to die in.

Isaac believes in love. And it is for this reason, this belief, that Vlad saves his life, Castlevania knows. Saves his life, by denying the choice he so desperately wanted to make—perhaps his whole life—and had no regrets or apprehensions about making, rather a lot more in being kept alive.

And when the mirror shatters and falls, his son is standing there, like he did a year ago, though this time he is not backed by sunlight. The only light in the room is the fire glinting in his eyes.

A pause. To remember the dead.

“Father.”

A word. To remember the living.

“Son.”

This should be a reunion, perhaps. Better people would think they should happily hug each other, and say they missed each other, and that they love each other all the same. Better people would say that the sunlight should plead with the dark to come back into its embrace. All the sinners know there was no chance of that the moment Dracula scrawled fate on his son’s skin with his own claws.

Instead, there is nothing but bitter, fighting words:

“Your war is over.”

Dracula tilts his head to the side. “Because you say so?”

“It ends.” Alucard looks at his sword, the one she taught him how to use. “In the name of my mother.”

Dracula looks at his son, the one she gave him. “It endures in the name of your mother.”

“I told you before I won’t let you do it.” Alucard’s voice is so soft, yet solid and unwavering. There is no anger, but he will not step aside. Not this time. Even when the claws come. “I grieve with you…but I won’t let you commit genocide.”

“You couldn’t stop me before.” Dark assurance in soft words.

Footsteps. A cue to the magic and the hunt behind the curtain, who step out on either side of him.

“I was alone before.”

And Castlevania understands. Understands that they are not here to talk things out. Understands that they are not here to save Dracula, to appeal to the good in him, as Lisa once had, and the Room once thought. Castlevania itself even hoped, when the boy returned, the song would be a bit more inspirational. But, beaten and broken and bloody, Castlevania understands now, if Alucard stands with the intent, if Alucard brought a Belmont—

Then they do not believe there is a chance. They are not here then, to talk him out of it. They are here to halt this war in its tracks, make it rear up, lose its balance, and fall.

—(And Castlevania knows, deep down, that to do this… they must end something else)—

Alucard is bringing back the sunlight. But there is only one way he can do that, and goodnight is not quiet.

And make no mistake he does intend to bring the full, the warm, the life, and the light back, just like Castlevania and the Room wanted. But there is too much cold, dark, death, and emptiness here to do this quietly. They are here to kill Dracula—the master now puppeteered by Death’s strings rather than his own soul.

The Speaker raises her fingers to her lips as if to say a prayer, or perhaps take a heavenly name in vain for the sake of a little silence. The Belmont’s whip clinks in his hand. Alucard’s sword sings as he raises it.

Alucard drives it towards his father: a bolt of golden lightning through the room, pinning him against the fireplace as books fall to the floor. Castlevania, wincing at the pain, knows that will bruise in the morning.

The picture of his mother cracks and falls, as if she has to close her eyes for this.

Alucard, growling with fierce resolve, pushing the sword into him with all his might. But Dracula has the sword in his hand, rather than his heart. He steps calmly forward, barely having to use any of his strength to combat so much of his son’s, as if he’s about to tell him to put the toy away.

A glint of golden eyes. Alucard pulls back the sword. A slash. Two. Three.

Dracula raises his arm as if to knock the sword from his shoulder.

Instead he bashes his son’s head into the fireplace—and Castlevania cries out at the feeling, feeling its stomach burn.

The Speaker and the Belmont ready for a fight. The floor splinters—(Castlevania grimaces, tasting blood)—as Dracula flashes through the room, and pins the Belmont into the hall, against the wall, sending his sword out of his hand. He keels over onto his hands to cough up blood, the puddle crawling on Castlevania’s skin.

Castlevania never had any qualms with the blood of Belmonts on its floors before, so this hurts less, but this is different, and Castlevania still wonders if Dracula could be a little gentler with his Castle.

A flash of light at his side. He raises his cloak as the Speaker sends tongues and teeth of fire at him.

“Speaker magician!” Its master realizes.

He rushes at her, knocking her hand out of position. She creates an ice shard before her with the other.

He scratches up with a claw, sending her flying with the broken pieces towards the ceiling, and angry gashes appear on her arm as she rolls along the floor.

“Sypha!” The Belmont calls.

He must love her in some way, because in a fit of some sort of emotion—instead of picking up his sword—the Belmont uses his fists. They probably haven’t failed him before. But this is Dracula, and his punches don’t cause the king to so much as flinch.

“You must be the Belmont.”

Castlevania laughs a little at the words; it too thought the method was rather common of his line.

It’s Dracula’s turn, and his punch doesn’t just cause the Belmont to flinch, the sound is as if he hit rock, sending him into the air with the force. He doesn’t give him a second to breathe, rather reaches his claw is around the human’s neck, holding him there.

He raises his other claw level—a blade, more trustworthy than any.

“The end of your line.”

Before he can make these words true, another blade stops him: his son’s, driving itself through both his arms.

While he is pinned the Speaker, knowing this is an opportunity she will not get again, rushes forward—still bleeding, mind—a bead of fire between her fingers. Dracula cannot move to protect himself, and the magician, knowing this, lets the fire loose to lick his face raw.

Dracula drops the Belmont, attempting to get away, deciding his own life takes precedence, but it is hard to get away when your hands are tied together with metal.

The Speaker, seeing that her fire is about to hit Alucard, falters. And in that moment Dracula wrenches his arm off of the blade and uses it to knock her down, before sending his other fist into his son, who goes flying along with his sword hitting the wall. This one may not be so hard as to bruise, but, with everything aching and breaking, the smallest tap hurts Castlevania.

The Belmont pulls a blade of bone from his back-belt, and as Dracula turns he drives it into his chest.

It’s not close enough to his heart, but red distaste fills Dracula’s eyes. He thought this was a game, but they have some amount of ability, and he may have underestimated them. As Alucard and the magician get up he attempts to grab at the Belmont in quick motions, but he has some skill in dodging.

The Speaker rips off her shirt and cauterizes her wound as the Belmont and Dracula dance in the hallway, neither weapon hitting flesh.

Dracula sees the Speaker’s intent over his shoulder, and as the Belmont lunges at him grabs his arm and throws him into her, stopping both their attacks. An effective move, if Castlevania does say so itself.

Alucard sees his opening and rushes forward, pinning his father to the wall, which shatters behind them with a painful lurch.

Dracula puts his hands together and brings them down over his son’s head with such force the floor cracks.

And Castlevania coughs blood.

Alucard pushes his arms away and slaps both sides of his face, getting a grunt this time. Dracula sends him back with such force it almost seems like a shockwave, creating wind and smoke curling around them all.

The Speaker roots him in place by sending ice spears into his leg. The Belmont clears the smoke by spinning his whip, before creating more by sending that whip—the one he fed the vampires that didn’t agree with their compositions—sizzling into Dracula’s chest. There’s an explosion to be sure—a rather big one—but after the smoke dissipates, and a wait with bated breath, Dracula is still standing just as he was before—as Castlevania knew he would—like all he threw at him were words.

…At least at first, to show he isn’t taken down so easily. He does fall to his hands thereafter.

“The Morningstar whip.” The words are scratches in the carpet. “Well played, Belmont. But I am no ordinary vampire to be killed by your human magics.” The words sizzle on his tongue. “I am Vlad Dracula Tepes,” he crosses his arms with purpose. “and I have had ENOUGH!”

His voice is a shockwave of its own across the sea of stone and bone. He sweeps his hands to the sides, his cloak rising like wings as he floats into the air, and creates a ball of magma: the cheat that will end the game. He was going easy on them until now.

It rumbles towards them, eating the carpet as it goes—and Castlevania can feel the burning in its chest. The Belmont’s eyes widen with fear at last. The Speaker rises to the occasion without hesitation, and holds out her hands to stop it with the force of her magic. It’s a force to be reckoned with, for sure: at first she succeeds, but, though it may be slowing, it isn’t stopping, and her feet are slipping. The Belmont puts his back to hers, as any good friend and comrade would. Alucard phases in front of them, the burning wind rushing against his face. He calls his sword, which sings as it reaches his hand, poises it, and drives the point into the magma ball.

They each fight with all their might, the Belmont and the speaker begins to grunt with the weight of it. The ball gives a falter their way, and Castlevania is sure even three cannot match Dracula’s strength, but the Speaker gives a final push, which gives Alucard just the right amount of momentum to drive it back toward his father, who is as caught off guard by the display as Castlevania is. He needs no sword or magic to stop it, however, and puts his hands out to hold it. Gold and red push against each other, until Alucard gives a deciding motion, then another, another, each chipping away at the ball until the sword goes flying and it’s just Alucard’s arm against Dracula’s throat, and their momentum creates a sizzling tunnel in the wall.

Castlevania may not know what guns are, but it knows what it feels like to be shot.

The two burst into the library, shattering the already shattered mirror.

It was so quiet in here. Must they sully the silence with the sound of strife? They read here, once. Sometimes alone, sometimes to each other. Whispered to each other of history and mystery.

Dracula lands on the floor and Alucard floats above him in the room in which he once stood on his level and told his father calmly he wouldn’t stand for genocide.

There’s anger in his eyes now.

Dracula hisses, then gives a war cry, and the two allow their hungry fists to attempt to devour each other as best they can in the air, red and gold flashing.

The Belmont picks up a sword in the other room and, deciding it’d be best not to follow them through the tunnel—(Castlevania is glad for that decision. The wound is still raw and would more than likely sting tremendously if they walked on it)—he and the Speaker run up the stairs to follow them.

They’re on the floor now and their punches fly like starlings—their duel reflected in the shards of mirror fluttering, jittering about, ever awaiting their command, as if attempting to tap their shoulders and ask what they should do, and why they are hurting each other—until they are hitting the bookshelves they once were gentle with—lest the pages rip and the silence tear—the ones they once smiled and discussed philosophy beside.

Castlevania’s head aches, nausea in the back of its throat.

A smiling boy and his father handing him another book, saying if he liked the first he’d like the second too, are all but gone now.

Dracula throws Alucard into the ceiling, and enters the room above with an unearthly sound, in an unearthly way: only his cloak is visible, moving like slime. As his hungry footsteps lick the floor behind him, Alucard is heaving on his side that same floor, his hair falling across his face. He turns around, fear coating the sound he makes as he, without his sword, grabs the nearest block of wood that happens to have a point on the end.

Dracula laughs, like they’re playing a game—(they did once, do they remember? Humans and monsters. Sometimes there were princes, and knights, or pirates. Even a princess or two. And the wolves and the bats were free in the night wind)—and stops.

“You mean to stake me?”

“You want me to.” Alucard murmurs, turning around with some difficulty.

“What?” Dracula chuckles, still with that put-the-toys-away intonation.

“You didn’t kill me before.” Alucard breathes. “You’re not going to kill me now. You want this to end as much as I do.” The look in his eyes is almost crazed.

“DO I?!” The tone is almost crazed in response, the nonchalant edge gone, the words resounding with power and grief.

Alucard scrambles away like an animal, causing Dracula to punch the floor instead of his head—Castlevania’s body lurches. It feels a gentle touch at its chin, someone trying to wipe the blood off perhaps.

“You died when my mother died. You know you did.” He reasons as Dracula’s breathing gains weight. “This entire catastrophe has been nothing but history’s longest suicide note.”

Castlevania jerks its head up, eyes wide at these words.

And Castlevania understands.

The cold, the dark, the empty, the death. They all make sense now.

Alucard rushes at him, Dracula knocks the stake out of Alucard’s hand with ease, but, in a moment of extreme dexterity, Alucard manages to grab it from the air and drive it into his chest still. The look in his eyes is almost pleading, like he’s going to ask “Daddy did I do a good job? Did I do it right? I’ve gotten better at fighting haven’t I?”

“Not quite close enough.” There is a gurgling quality to Dracula’s enunciation.

No more playing.

He shoves Alucard so hard its into the next room.

Castlevania keels over onto the floor, it’s stomach aching and prickling.

Dracula pulls the stake out and heaves before rushing after.

Floors below the magician and the Belmont can hear them, and are trying their best to catch up, to have a say in this fight.

But Castlevania isn’t sure they have much chance of that, as they are flashing through the halls now, Alucard, a foot off the ground, zig-zagging between the walls in the narrow hall as Dracula keeps punching bloodless stone—

—(The stone may be bloodless, but god this hurts)—

Until Alucard punches him back, sending them into a room, a bedroom—(but not that one)—and the room is a pile of rubble with just that. And Castlevania can feel the splinters. That furniture was nice.

Dracula grabs Alucard’s face and shoves him into the dining room, pinning him to the table like he’ll eat him too if they’re not careful, and those chairs were perfectly nice too—

And Castlevania sees a little boy waiting at the table for his birthday surprise, and his father pulling out a burned cake, and his mother laughing. There was no fear then. Though its master was a creature of blood it never thirsted for theirs, and they knew this full well. Can they see it too? Why would they destroy this room if they did? Why would they destroy each other if they did? Are they even the same creatures as those in the memory?

At this point Castlevania is pretty sure they broke a few of its ribs.

Alucard kicks his face and gets on the table on all fours, rushing him into the next room still.

Castlevania’s bleeding, broken heart skips a beat. Surely they must have broken a few ribs, for how else could they get into Castlevania’s heart? The control room, where its gears still lie dripping, glowing as orange as a brand, once beating organs now blazing stalactites.

They punch each other along the platform, Dracula’s cloak whipping about, like a cat’s fur trying to make him look bigger and scarier.

They are framed in the paneless window—those bones have been all but broken too now. The frame where the picture—that is to say, the die—no longer sits. For Castlevania’s heart didn’t just break, it was destroyed when they brought it to this place, the place where its enemies once lived, and still stand today.

—(So why can Castlevania still feel it beat?)—

In the frame now is moon drunk on blood, a night soaked in tears—and the wind whispers to their cloaks, bidding them to whip around them.

Dracula draws in a hissing breath.

Alucard stands tall, his eyes aglow, gold melting into something new in this forge, his hair whipping about him as he raises his fist yet again.

They are getting tired. Their snarls have a weakened quality to them now.

—Can they see the father and son in this room, the father teaching his son that his Castle is special?—

But instead of just punching him, Alucard teleports beside his father, hitting his shoulder, sending a gust of wind to his face, then teleports around the room to send his fist into him over and over, from every possible angle, and some of his kick-offs create cracks in the already breaking bindings of the room.

It feels like pins and needles, but it’s okay. It’s okay.

Why?

Dracula’s grits his teeth, sharp as ever, his eyes alight with bloody determination, his hair playing about this gaze. To end it, on the next hit he grabs his face, shoving him by it onto the stone platform. He shoves him once, twice, a third, the metal cracking, the metal creaking—

Castlevania’s gut lurches, and it can taste bile and iron at the back of its throat, and it’s hard to breathe.

Then its master raises Alucard back up, holds him by the face in the air a moment, and punches him with such force he is blown across the length of the platform and through the thick stone wall into the next room—

And Castlevania vomits blood.

Dracula bolts after him, the dust creating patterns in his wake—and Castlevania could gaze in the clouds if it weren’t for whoever’s trying to slap it awake.

Alucard coughs, and it sounded deep.

Its master is nothing human now. There’s a growl in his throat as he marches towards him, and another cough in Alucard’s as he struggles to stand.

Another punch, but this one is not fast like the rest, nor is it blocked. Alucard tries to stand up, to rush towards him, but he is getting tired, and Dracula hits him again. Another growl. Alucard takes a single step back, soft against the floors. An exhale. Another of both, and as Dracula raises his fist the murmur—plea?—on his son’s lips sounds a lot like “Father,” as if he’s reached his limit, and has to stop the game.

It’s too late to hit quit now.

The vampire king doesn’t grant the plea—or perhaps even hear it; with a belabored punch he sends him into the next Room, rolling this time, instead of flying, the contents of the Room staying in tact…all except the bed, which catches the boy.

The next Room. But this one is not like the rest. It is not just a room.

This one breathes.

A gasp, another growl, a scratch against the wall, and—

Castlevania burned today in this bloody fight, on this bloody night. Its skin, its legs. Even its heart broke.

Castlevania. The thing that Vlad Tepes brought to life with a little bit of lightning, several gears, and a few words. No magic words, just words: the ones he spoke on lonely nights to the walls about how he’d like to be something more than ruthless.

Castlevania did everything it could. It lies burned and broken and unable to fight now because of it.

But none of that burned half as much as those scratches on its walls.

There have been many stories told about Dracula, and there will one day be more stories told about Dracula, books written, enough that one could fill libraries with just the retellings of his story. And Castlevania has no doubt that one day these scratches will be on their covers. This growl, these scratches are the signet of a vampire, of a monster: the disfigurement of his Castle, bloody intent directed at his son. The dark, the death, and the emptiness have overtaken completely. That is all a monster is, really. That is all he is now.

He marches into the Room, his cloak flowing, dipping and twirling in the broken wind. The sound of Alucard’s breathing fills the Room as he heaves against the bed.

Or maybe the breath is the Room’s own.

The Room has seen all that happened, it has been watching Castlevania beaten bloody till it could barely breathe, or see through the blood dripping down its face, let alone move. Castlevania could barely feel the comforting hands on it, the attempts to bandage the wounds, or at least stop the bleeding that it knew could only belong to the Room. Castlevania could barely hear the Room’s frantic, desperate calls to action, to get up, or just ask if it was okay. And now the Room stands, fists clenched at its sides. The Room wants to fight back. It will fight back.

The Room is not violent. From the very beginning it stood against all the violence, the dark, the empty, and the death. That was what it was made for, after all. As much as it would like to, it does not wrap its hand around Dracula’s throat, claws digging until it draws blood, and demand “How does it feel?! How does it feel to be on the receiving end?!”

The Room’s footsteps are soft as it comes up beside Dracula. It puts its hands over the king’s eyes and whispers in his ear, gently as it can:

“Remember me?”

Then, quietly as it came, it removes them, as if playing peekaboo, revealing that it was there the whole time, his eyes were just covered for a while.

It may as well have been removing scales, because Dracula freezes, his eyes wide, as if he’s seeing, not just the Room, but the whole world for the first in a long time—And he is. The first time with living eyes. And one sees things very differently with living eyes. And Castlevania was his world and it hopes he sees the world differently, for Castlevania is not a thing for him to beat and break. Just when Castlevania thought there was nothing left…there is something more than anger in his eyes now.

Dracula’s angry cloak quiets, falling docile at his feet: a sign of reverence towards the Room, and all it stands for.

Alucard, after allowing his breath to regain itself, looks up, his eyes widening too at his father. His father. No anger, no fear, not even determination now. Not in this Room. This Room is different. He remembers now: in the hush that has fallen across the world like freshly fallen snow, this is his father.

The Room kneels at it’s boy’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder feeling nothing but life and love, so much so it extends to the creature that created the scars on its throat, and on its boy’s chest.

“It’s okay. You can go to him now.” The Room says.

And it knows what that means.

It knows that sometimes peace comes at the price of war.

Dracula curls his hand, the one with the claw that just made marks on the walls that are written in stone, and will never be undone. Within the glow of the window, his reddened eyes too are no longer angry. For so long those eyes sat dormant, empty, and glazed in his skull and at last they contain something. The Room’s words have gotten through the glaze, shattered the glass.

“It’s your Room.”

It’s more than just a statement. He made a promise when he made this Room. This Room was to be his son’s Room. There would be no violence, not in this Room. Not ever. Not today in as much as not ten years ago. He will not hurt this Room. He will not dare touch it, for fear those claws will mark more than just the walls; that all the memories will come crashing down.

The words are not angry. They are not dark. They are not empty. They are not dead. They may seem dry, and stated, but they are dripping with such longing and loss it might fill the whole Castle.

The desk where Vlad taught Adrian of letters, and of numbers, and of the borders of the world. The wardrobe where Lisa dressed him up in fine clothes, and casual ones depending on the occasion—Dracula had so few special occasions to celebrate alone, they were a lovely thing. The bookshelf full of all the knowledge of immortals, and the stories of mortals. The carpet where the boy sat and played with his toys. The nightstand, still with a potion bottle upon it, and the cards of a game they’ve no doubt forgotten how to play, right where they left it long ago. The shelf above it with another bottle, and a tiny satchel of even tinier precious things, and a little toy lamb. The bed upon which Vlad and Lisa once sat and told stories, and sang lullabies, or else lay curled up next to him when the nightmares got too vicious to bear alone.

—(How many did he have to face alone?)—

And Castlevania can see them all. The father teaching his son to count, and to write. The mother running after her naked toddler, trying to convince him clothes really aren’t so bad. The careful pouring of the potions so they change color, or explode just right, the father smiling proudly when he gets the questions correct. The pride of the mother when her son won the game, and the way her husband said “again” like if they just played another round he would win this time. The boy playing with the lamb and the wolf; they they got along in his stories.

The control room never was Castlevania’s heart…was it?

Alucard stands—the motion fluid now—blue light caressing his face as he raises his eyes. Vlad too looks up. But they’re not looking at each other, or the Room, rather into the stars. Not the ones outside, the ones they painted—brushing paint upon each other’s noses, so long ago, and Castlevania can see that too—as if those stars hold all the bottled wishes of childhood. It always was crowning jewel of this Room.

Adrian’s eyes oscillate like perturbed waters, because he knows, he knows he’s about to lose it all. And yes, there’s a sort of childlike yearning in Adrian’s eyes, as if he’s wishing upon those stars that he didn’t have to do this, because he’d really rather find another way to spend this night.

The stars wipe the bloodstains off of Dracula’s eyes. The blood drains off the moon too, as if he is so powerful he can bid the sky to bleed.

His lips shake with long-forgotten words—(or maybe they were just buried, and not everything buried in a grave stays there)—and he holds his hands to his chest, if nothing else to stop them from hurting innocent boys and castles, and shuts his eyes.

“My boy.” The words are said like everything in him is breaking

And it is.

—(The control room never was Castlevania’s heart. Does that mean it never broke?)—

“I’m—I…” The word falls to the floor, so soft, like it’s the only apology he has to shed. “I’m… I’m killing my boy.” And the truth is so gentle and broken its almost more painful than all those punches to the walls.

He steps across the Room, and this time his footsteps are not foreboding, not marching nor stalking. They are soft. He is only walking. This boy is not his prey. Not in this Room.

He walks to the picture on the wall, the one called “Happy.”

Castlevania remembers the day they took it home. The painter really did do a good job, Lisa had said, and Castlevania agreed. Castlevania soon learned that even when they were not here, even when the boy was not small, even when they were not happy, that moment would still be captured upon the wall to return to any time they missed it. Long ago Dracula had no need of pictures and paintings. But those pictures have been everything to him, and everything left him, now that Lisa is gone. They are all the traces left of what they once were in this Castle. That picture—the one Dracula buried and tried to forget existed—that picture bottled happiness, and it gives Vlad back his happiness now. And it makes him so very sad.

“Lisa. I’m killing our boy.” Vlad says to the memory. “We painted this Room. We…made these toys.”

His eyes as they dart around the Room—to the books, to the basket with the wolf and the blocks—are glazed, but not in the same way as before, this time it is with memory, and that makes them more alive than ever, as are his words. And in that moment she is alive too, and he is Vlad, Lisa’s husband, and Adrian’s father.

“It’s our boy, Lisa.”

And then as he looks down his eyes are not glazed at all, rather they hold understanding. He understands what must be done.

Alucard’s foot pushes off the ground, bends the knee, stands, and, no, he is not Adrian, for there is a cracking, a cracking like lightning, a cracking like the world breaking.

And it is the most horrible sound either the Room or Castlevania have ever heard. More horrible than the squelching any heart Dracula ever ripped out. More horrible than the desperate pleas of his victims. More horrible than the cackles of his friends. More horrible than the crying of the child that Castlevania can still hear echoing through the Room.

—(The sound Castlevania hated so so long ago, and now longs for far more than anything else in the world, longs for that painting to swallow the universe and bring it to life again)—

Castlevania and the Room can both feel that sound like a thousand splinters and spider bites, like both of them shattering as if they were made of glass after all. Even the furniture here bleeds.

Vlad backs up, putting his hands over his face—Don’t hurt them, they don’t know what they’re doing—

—(Yet…he hurt them all. So much so he didn’t just disgrace her words, he tried to kill her gift, their son, her blood)—

“Your greatest gift to me. And I’m killing him.”

He lifts his hands from his face and looks into his son’s eyes, his own so alive, despite their glass, tilting his head to the side. Everything slow and gentle now. He is Vlad. He is Adrian’s father. Not the vampire king who put innocents on stakes. But they all know something happened to Vlad on the night Lisa died.

“I must already be dead.”

And Castlevania, burned and bleeding, understands. The final piece of the puzzle has been put into place. It has been dead too. It’s life, bound in red to its master, will break to the call of a stake. Because a reflection cannot exist without the thing it reflects.

Because…they are mortal.

That was the trade, all those years ago: immortality for mortality. Lisa would gain an immortal mind, and Dracula a mortal soul. He would teach Lisa the knowledge of immortals, the methods of healing that must be kept secret to live with a vampire like time held no grip on them. And she would teach him how to live as a man, how to travel as a man, how to care for his son, as a man, as a father. And in that moment his soul was bound to hers.

She brought the undeath in him to life, and Castlevania understands; only things that are alive can die.

It learned through Lisa, through Adrian, what it was to be alive. And it knew that undeath, while not death, is not life. Dracula was undead and his body could not die. But now that she brought him to life, he could die. His soul already died with her. He’s been rotting in an empty shell—no wonder Death could tie those puppet strings to him. That’s why the emptiness in him was so active; cold and dark and empty were only adjectives before, now they are nouns; he was emptiness, death, walking around. And that, too, is what Castlevania has become. It too is mortal. It didn’t die with her, but something in it ceased to tick when Dracula came back without a soul in his chest, and it knows, bruised and burned, broken, and bleeding that that stake in his son’s hand is calling them both.

You knew all along, didn’t you? Castlevania asks the Room, and there is no malice, no blame, there.

The Room jerks its head up to look at Castlevania, then its eyes soften and it grimaces. I hoped I was wrong. The Room replies softly. I…I hoped there was another way.

Alucard’s eyes hold some sympathy, some semblance of the boy they once knew, in fact rather too much, for both threaten to pour out of those eyes and stop all this. He doesn’t want to. But it’s too late for anything else.

Vlad eyes hold some semblance of the man they once knew, so much so they threaten to make him something more than ruthless, something that doesn’t deserve to die. He closes them tilting his head. He knows what must be done.

There is no anger in either of their eyes, no determination, not even resolve. Not anymore. Adrian wants to free his father in the only way he can.

A step forward, and this step has purpose, that stake is silently growling, drooling at his side as he stalks his prey. Another. Another. Like the beating of all their hearts, and the atmosphere is so silent that everything can only break.

And Dracula will not stop him, will not fight back. Not this time. Like all those times he let his son win, because even though he was more skilled at at the game, it was more satisfying to see Adrian smile.

He is not here to talk things out.

Alucard barely raises that stake—

A second horrible cracking, this one in flesh.

This time he aimed higher.

Dracula’s mouth fills with blood, it seeps through the cracks in his teeth. The blood from his chest drains down the stake—the broken piece of childhood—down his son’s arm, collecting on his elbow, and when it hits the carpet a burn begins to appear on the Room’s chest.

A grunt as Vlad leans forward, the blood dripping from his mouth to the floor—another angry gash upon the Room’s skin, and the Room is trying to pretend it’s okay, but it can’t hide the hurt in its eyes.

It knew what had to be done…but the violence goes against its nature.

His eyes fill with blood, but not from undead purpose. The moon is still clean. These are those bloody tears, the ones from the song earlier today. He is free, relieved…and he will never see his son again.

“Son.”

To remember the living, and those who will live on without him.

And the word is spoken very differently than it was earlier today. Then it was solid and hollow. Now it is ghostly, and so full it could hold all the world. Their world, at least.

This Room, this Castle, that word. They are their whole world.

And it is an honor to have been a world to such terrible, wonderful creatures.

“Father.”

To honor the dying, and what they once were while alive.

The word on Adrian’s tongue is the same, though more solid, more alive, and thus able to hold more pain. A faltering breath, a cracking forgiveness.

The word means something now, at the end, where before they were nothing more than titles. They are pleading with each other. They are bleeding with each other.

They don’t want to do this. They shouldn’t have to. It is far too cruel.

Mothers shouldn’t have to bury their daughters, and sons shouldn’t have to kill their fathers. It’s an unspoken rule of life.

But Alucard can’t stop there. He must finish this. The fire, the resolve regurgitates in his eyes, and he pushes harder, like with the magma ball, and, no, this cracking is worse, because Castlevania can feel it in its own chest now.

Castlevania can hear its master’s heartbeat, can feel it with the drops of blood dripping and sizzling on the floor, and it thinks it might just be its own heartbeat.

Alucard does not hate his father: there is pain on his face. But he cannot stop there.

He must end this war. And unlike those given with kisses to his forehead once, this goodnight is not gentle. Not this time.

He inhales,

closes his eyes,

and breaks his father’s chest.

That stake goes right through Castlevania, and something in it involuntary breaks.

The control room never was Castlevania’s heart. The destruction of the die was merely the amputation of both its legs, still bleeding out. This is a breaking, not of skin or bone, but of something deeper. It thinks this might just be what it feels like to cry.

And something happens in the breaking. A change of some sort. Castlevania isn’t quite sure what—pain and disorientation are the best of friends—all it knows is that the world is smaller now, and hurts less.

And as Castlevania’s heart breaks, the reflection in the painting shatters, the reflection of the bond between father and son severing with a stake.

The world is so much smaller now.

Dracula’s head jerks back and, eyes now seeing something other than this world.

Dracula is no ordinary vampire, so he does not die like an ordinary vampire. Rather than catching on fire, there’s just smoke and ash; his face drains, turning from ghostly pale to a charcoal, black without flame, before it really is ash, sliding off his face, his cloak like sludge.

There’s no orange, just the red stain, and the grey his life was marred of. Ash and smoke. The true undeath.

Alucard turns his face away, still holding the stake in place.

Dracula lifts up a hand, a skeleton hand, and Alucard turns to see the skin sloughing off around his ring. Though his spirit may have left, it seems his body won’t quite let go of this world; with mere bones Dracula reaches out, takes a step forward, as if to touch his face, to hold his son one last time, to catch the last embrace he was not afforded.

Adrian has shed that resolve, now he can do nothing but take slow and careful steps back away from the monster he has no sword or shield to fight. He the child again, the one who belonged in this Room, shying away. He is Adrian, the one who didn’t like the stories that were bloody. And in all the years the boy spent in this Room, the sheer fear in Adrian’s eyes as he looks up to see his father’s rotted face, with mouth agape, leaning bloodlessly towards him—an image that Castlevania fears will haunt him the rest of his days—is matchless.

Hurried footsteps at the door. The Speaker and the Belmont, at last, have made it to the show, though it seems they paid for only the final song. They step upon the threshold to see the rotting corpse of the king stepping towards his fearful, tearful price.

The Belmont draws his sword, and Dracula’s deflated head—the one that seemed so alive moments earlier—lies in a bloody pool on the floor. And as the neck bleeds and the Belmont watches the body fall to the floor, he isn’t sure if that was enough.

And Castlevania can’t feel its heartbeat anymore.

“Alucard. Step back.” Sypha’s voice is tempered. “Let me finish this.”

He does, the steps cautious and small, sorrow in his gaze. He holds the unbroken bedpost till his hand shakes.

Castlevania never liked children, the crying, the leaving, the guests, or being controlled.

But it did like Lisa. It did like Adrian. And—be it a sting—it did like the sunlight. And always and forever, it loved its master. A reflection cannot help but adore the thing it reflects. A creation cannot help but be a worshipper of its creator. A dream cannot help but revere its dreamer.

“You want me to.”

Smiling a little at how true the words were, in the end, Castlevania found it quite liked the relief.

Castlevania puts a hand on the Room’s cheek, smiling, and its mouth tastes less like blood now. It looks at the moon—bleeding no longer—and blue calm fills every part of it.

“What a wonderful night to have a curse.”

The Room stares at the castle, a little horrified by the sentiment.

“What…What should I do?” The Room stutters, fear and realization coating its words, for it knows what’s happening.

Castlevania smiles wider than ever, and its voice sounds softer; “The children.”

“What?”

“You should let them in. Any child who needs refuge. Along with as many guests as your master wants to welcome. And you should cry. Cry when you need to—and let your master cry too. Stay, but let him leave, if he must, knowing he will always come back. Let yourself be controlled at times, because sometimes that which feels the least right is the most right.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“Be warm. Let the light in every window. Be full, and most of all, live. Can you do that for me?”

The Room holds onto the Castle to keep it from falling, tears already descending its cheeks.

“I—I will try.”

The Speaker lets the flame loose to eat the pieces, to engulf its master’s body in the fire he stared at all along, as if yearning for its embrace, creating a spiral of flame upon the circle in the carpet.

They were right to assume it wasn’t over, at least, because there are shapes in the flames; from the smoke and ashes rises a tower of skulls, a legion of spirits, more than a one king’s soul should hold. They’re all crying havoc, war, blood and pain from a yesterday long forgotten. Their smoke snuffs out the flame, blight covering the Room, blocking out the stars that so enraptured them earlier. Sypha and the Belmont cover their faces, but Alucard is unsurprised and undaunted by the darkness lurking in his father’s chest, and faces it without looking away. This darkness bursts out the window like a flower bloom, flows like a river out into the hall—the one cracked and bruising—flying over the war Room where the war resides no longer, and escapes into the night, fluttering, spiraling around Castlevania’s parapets like butterflies.

On the charred floor, the only thing left of the king is his wedding ring.

Castlevania sees the vampire king as he once was; young and restless. The skeletons eating stakes. Castlevania remembers what it once was: lightning, books, gears, and a few lonely words. It sees the woman with the knife at the door. It watches them build the Room. It watches the boy grow up into this beautiful thing.

Castlevania always wondered if it could breathe. It was never quite sure. The Room always seemed to possess a kind of life it never had; a life that hid in the breath.

“Take good care of him for me,” Castlevania murmurs to the Room.

“Have I ever failed you before?” The Room tries to smile, wiping its eyes.

As the sun rises over the hills, a single ray filters in through Castlevania’s window, touching it, filling every part of it, and for once it doesn’t sting.

And with the last sigh of the last ghost circling the parapets, Castlevania exhales its last breath.

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peachcitt · 3 years

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shadow and bone netflix series analysis

what up besties i said as a joke that i wanted to do an analysis post on the changes made in the s&b netflix series from the grishaverse books, and then i realized i wasn't joking and that i actually wanted to do that

it's finals season, i am an undergraduate english major, i have had about five hours of sleep within the past forty eight hours, and believe it or not i am doing this analysis as a fun reward for finishing a research paper. i am putting this out here for you so you can decide if these are the kinds of vibes you want right now.

structure of the analysis will be vaguely as follows:

changes made, in chronological order (or as best as chronology i can do under the circumstances and doing absolutely zero fact checking)

analysis of change when looking at the themes of the books which will include my personal feelings

personal theories (if any) derived from the change for the trajectory of the netflix series

so, like, long post warning. also spoiler warning for the netflix series as well as probably most, if not all, grishaverse books

now let's get this baby started

alina's appearance and shu heritage

so the series starts right off the bat acknowledging alina's shu appearance and the in-world racism and prejudice she's experienced because of it, which was not in the books. however i found alina's shu appearance to be completely in line with the book's themes. alina was already isolated at keramzin and the army because of her sickliness, and she's isolated at the little palace because of her power and her awkwardness. so purposefully making her shu was, i felt, a nice world-building decision as well as a new and interesting layer to her character. also, it's always nice to see diversity in media, so i have literally no qualms with this change

in terms of the rest of the series, the grishaverse is a very politically-motivated story. there's a lot of in-universe politics that happens in the shadow and bone trilogy and especially in the king of scars duology, and i think if the series chooses to extend into/include the king of scars duology story (which, i really hope it will), alina being shu (or at least part shu) will be very interesting to see considering king of scars and rule of wolves deal with negotiations and treaties with shu han. i think also having alina be shu and someone who has experienced countless amounts of in-world racism become a saint, seeing how she and the rest of ravka navigate her identity and identity politics will be really interesting. generally speaking, i just really hope the later parts of the series really delve into alina's identity, what it means to be a saint and also "look like the enemy," and the ravkan people's mixed feelings about her

alina's sickliness/childhood relationship with mal

in the books, alina is described as thin, always having trouble sleeping, hardly ever hungry, and sickly looking because, as we learn later, of her constantly unconsciously repressing her grisha abilities. this is part of the reason she's isolated at keramzin in the books; she's sickly and awkward and no one bothers with her except mal - because they're the same age and mal is strong enough to defend her from the older orphans at keramzin. however, the show doesn't really delve into the effects of what suppressing her abilities do to her except for a few offhand lines (alina angrily saying "im never that sick" when mal suggests she say she's stick to stop from going into the fold, mentions of her larger appetite when they're on the run in the woods). instead, the show kind of flips alina and mal's childhood personalities; mal is depicted as shy and easily picked on, and alina is the protector.

i'll just say it: this change fucks so hard. i love it. i think it says such wonderful things about their characters, and i like that alina begins the series as someone incapable of turning a blind eye to bullies and someone who cares very fiercely for the people she loves (not that that isn't the case in the books - i just think this change does a great job of looking directly at it in the way that shows have to). i think it's easy to root for her, and it's easy to see how she will become a saint to the people. in addition to that, i love what this is saying about alina and mal's characters and how they grow up; that separation from alina caused mal to have to face his own problems head on in traditionally masculine ways (because that was what ana kuya criticizes him in the show for; for always running from fights and being too soft, and i think it's really telling that our first view of mal as a kid, im pretty sure, is gingerly holding a bunny which portrays feminine caregiving and then we jump cut to mal fighting in a dirty boxing ring in the first army, something gritty and masculine). masculine ways that he had to be indoctrinated into and that may not actually be in his natural disposition.

meanwhile, separation from mal meant alina no longer had to be a dominant protector, and she does not connect with anyone in the first army as strongly as she connected with mal, so she doesn't really feel the need to be as aggressive as she was as a child. however, you can see that quiet protectiveness spark up at times - notably when people other than herself are picked on, such as at the food line when she claims not to know the others in the cartography unit so they don't get penalized along with her. i do wish, however, elements of her sickliness had been emphasized a little more in the show because of grisha theory, which i will talk about in another section.

first entry into the fold

okay i will be honest. this change is probably the one that scared me the most when seeing it in the trailers, and i am kind of still iffy on it now. in the books, alina's first journey into the fold and the inciting moment for the entire series is just luck and orders. everyone in the first army has to go through the fold at some point, and it just so happens to be alina and mal's time to go through. however, in the show alina is not initially assigned to go into the fold, but mal is, and alina goes out of her way to make sure that she gets on the skiff so that mal won't have to go alone/without her. there's this level of 'choice' (or at least the illusion of it) in the show in terms of alina and mal getting onto the skiff and going into the fold; at one point or the other they both try to tell the other not to get on the skiff and just choose something else.

the thing that irks me the most is alina's stubborn "i'll make it" line that she tells mal after she's on the skiff. it screams 'fantasy dystopian protagonist' (divergent is the first to come to mind for some reason) in a way that alina never comes across in the books. alina never chooses to make her life more difficult - she's always given two terrible options and has to take the option that fits with her morals or her perception of the power she needs to surivive and win the fight. but i know the only reason alina goes out of her way to get on the skiff is because she's separated from mal, which aligns nicely with the protective nature the show has inscribed on her.

the thing that redeems this change for me is that when alina tries to get just herself onto the skiff (by burning the maps to ensure that she has a purpose there), she ends up endangering the lives of her entire cartography unit. this keeps with the theme of a whole lot of alina's later decisions throughout the books affecting so many more people than just her, and i like that this is a lesson that she learns very early on. this change also seems to be a trade out for the final entering-the-fold scene, but i'll talk about that later.

alexei

here he is, the lynchpin himself. in the books, alexei is dry and rude in a funny way with alina, and they have this really great banter at the beginning of the novel, and then he's, like, the first to get carried off by volcra. very harrowing in the book, i loved it. in the show, alexei's character is a little (a lot) different - he's naive and blunt in a silly way, and he very obviously has a crush on alina. instead of being carried off by volcra in the show, though, he jumps off the skiff and runs blind into the fold - committing what we think at the time is an act of suicide - which was extremely harrowing to see in a completely different way, and i loved it. even if they changed alexei's personality i still love him (and his death) dearly

so as previously mentioned, alexei acts as the lynchpin between the six of crows plot and the shadow and bone plot; he manages to escape the fold alive, and makes it all the way to ketterdam to tell a select few people the legendary sun summoner is alive WHICH. okay ive just decided that's my next topic. anyway back to alexei.

his death in ketterdam is awful because of the personality change, which is why i don't mind missing bitchy alexei from the book; his hopeful little "if i tell you, you'll set me free?" that pulls at your heart and also tells you immediately that he is going to die as soon as he tells everyone what he say is done so well. i also like that through treatment of alexei, we get some characterization of the crows; inej immediately gives him water and glares at the mercher in quiet rage on his cruel treatment, kaz doesn't flinch when alexei is killed but inej and jesper do. i also thought it was interesting to have the mercher (dreeson was his name i believe) to be the one to get his hands 'dirty' and actually be the one to shoot alexei because in six of crows, there is always the sense that the merchers are cruel and conniving, but that they very carefully keep the death of the poor and the grisha off their own hands. im wondering if this hands-on killing is a dreeson-specific trait, or if this more hands-on cruelty will be explored more in other mercher characters we meet, like van eck.

sun summoner legend

this change is so?? i don't really know what to think of it. narratively, it makes sense in the show to have this legend be in place so that alina's importance is immediately recognized by people across the different countries.

however in the books, no one really expected alina. her presence wasn't foretold or divine (at first) or fate in any way. she became a saint because i think in part people weren't expecting her, and once they saw what she could do, they wanted to believe in her abilities so bad they made her divine. this change was also weird to me having just finished rule of wolves where zoya (i think) reflects on amazing things that have happened throughout the story and she notes that alina was not some sort of legend that people were expecting - none of what happened was. everything that happened from alina to nina's miracles in king of scars to zoya's expanded abilities by the end of rule of wolves to the "age of saints." all of those things were just chance people being in chance situations that all slid together in a strange, amazing coincidence. they got lucky.

and i think, at the center of the books, is this kind of purposeful disillusionment of the saints and religion, what with the main character of the original trilogy literally becoming a saint and yet never truly feeling saint-ly or being perfectly divine. the sun summoner legend the show brings up seems to depart from this. it'll be interesting to see what the show does with the legend and how alina feels about it as she fulfills it, and im honestly hoping that we'll find out later in the series that the legend was actually just some poor guy a few hundred years ago making something up to give people hope.

the crows timeline/characterization

in the books, the six of crowd ice court heist happens three years after the events of the final book of the shadow and bone trilogy. but obviously the timelines are smushed together for the show to create a new and different direction for their story and also, as we see at the end of the season, a new and different direction for alina's story as well

ive also seen bardugo say that because of the converging time lines, the grishaverse story will not take seven seasons (one season per book in the grishaverse) to get through. for this reason, im thinking that the parem story/ice court heist will begin if/when we get season 2. given that parem is a big part of kos/row, i see a crows and nikolai interaction happening in season 2 that sparks a beginning discussion on parem.

but back to the crows characterization! the crows are completely in character for me in almost every way, and i found the interactions between kaz, inej, and jesper to be very in character. however kaz's plan to capture alina doesn't work out almost at all which is something that he definitely wouldn't have let happen in the books. im chalking this up to the converging timelines - these crows are baby crows. they're young, a little less experienced, and they haven't gotten their groove on heists (and they don't have the rest of their crew) yet. but i anticipate seeing more crows-classic successful heists in season 2.

there are a couple of things i want to talk about each crow, so it's subtopic time

nina and matthias

perfect. their interactions were almost always word-for-word from the book. i can't remember if matthias had actually been the one to actually catch nina in the book, but if not, then it was a nice touch. it was interesting to see that both of them were so willing to be traitors of their country for each other in the show, because even when they're in a romantic relationship outside of fjerda and ravka in the book, they struggle with even the idea of betraying their country.

i like how they changed nina and matthias' "escape" from fjerda to ravka, and how nina explicitly betrayed grisha she knew to their faces. im interested to see how they'll integrate her back into the second army, or if they even will do that. also, i like that fedyor slowed matthias' heart to make him pass out before he sees the other grisha, so it was easy to understand how matthias could've thought it was nina deceiving him all along. their confrontation in the boat was (chef's kiss), and the horror on nina's face as she realized that this situation she put him in won't be as easily solvable as she thought was just wonderful.

jesper

perfect. i love him. and the coy little hints that he's a fabrikator were so good. also the line in the very beginning where he asks for a demo man, which foreshadows wylan was very nice. the only thing out of character is one time kaz asks him to be a distraction and show jesper claims that being a handsome distraction is not part of his talents. it literally is, why did they make him lie.

inej

literally so so good. i love that we meet her while she still has her oath not to take lives; we get to see her develop and learn that sometimes death is necessary, but that she still isn't yet comfortable with killing. on some level, she never will be, and i think that was a perfect place to start her character. however, i am confused about the show giving her a brother. where is he. is he going to be important?? why is he here???? i can't even make any solid predictions about him because inej having a brother came straight out of fucking left field. here's one flimsy prediction based on nothing at all: inej's brother is grisha and is an indentured servant. may also be involved in the parem plot, or works at the white rose where nina will befriend him and connect with the rest of the six because of him. who fucking knows

kaz

i already kind of went over their disaster plan that still somehow worked out for him, but i love literally everything else they did with kaz. the refusal to show his bare hands was literally art!! we got that tease in the first episode and the camera pans up as soon as the gloves come off. that was perfection - as well as the intimacy and trust portrayed between kaz and inej without them ever touching. i also loved the hints and nudges for his story with pekka - the way he always says his name with obvious distaste, and when we see him interact with pekka for the first time on screen. how he asks if they've ever made a deal before and pekka just goes "nah" and kaz just glares at him. perfect. and i also think the show really leaned in to the soft parts of kaz that inej sees in him, especially when he basically said she (and jesper) meant more to him than any saint?? oh my GOD. i kind of like this honest departure from kaz's book "greed is my god edgy edgy blah blah" especially when he's afraid he'll lose inej. i also think it'd be funny if we hear kaz say "greed is my god" and be edgy about it with us AND inej knowing that is superficial because of what he told her. that would be hilarious.

pekka, tante heleen, per haskell

these three aren't part of the six, but they are part of the original six of crows story and i still wanted to talk about my opinions on them, so they're going here.

i fucking loved pekka, how ruthless he was, and his irish accent. that was wonderful. because of how fucking hands-on and brutal he was, though, i wonder if they're going to keep the jakob hertzoon piece of kaz's origin story the same, because this pekka was so good at being violent that it was hard to picture him even pretending to be a benevolent benefactor to orphans. he is a dilf, though. i am not afraid to admit that.

my only problem with tante heleen is that her actress looked too nice. like she might bake me cookies and offer me a ride home from school. total milf as well but not in the scary sexy way that she was in the books. she had smile lines, she was so dainty, she seemed so genuine. i want to see her be a little more cruel.

per haskell, the actual gang leader of the crows, is not in the show at all. it seems as though the show made kaz the official boss of the crows while he is only second in command in the book. this makes me wonder how they'll handle or if they'll even include that fucking awesome scene in crooked kingdom of kaz earning the gang's trust over haskell. it would be weird to introduce per haskell in season 2 when he wasn't even mentioned in season 1, but it wouldn't be altogether terrible considering the crows spent very little time in ketterdam this season. however, this makes me wonder if, when kaz was away on his little saint pilgrimage (i am calling it that specifically because i know it would piss him off) someone else stepped in as "boss" of the crows. in the show, kaz also leverages the deed of the crow club in order to be able to take inej with him, and presumably the jewels alina gives him will solve that problem, but what would happen if any of the crows find out he made that deal? would he still have to earn the gang's trust back in a show of power and respect like in crooked kingdom? much to think about.

mal

back to the shadow and bone story, ive already briefly (not really briefly) gone over mal characterization alongside alina, but i want to mention how the show includes his perspective alongside alina's and how important that is. the shadow and bone trilogy is told entirely from alina's perspective, and alina is in some ways an unreliable narrator. she tends to think of her relationships and feelings as one sided unless her friend/love interest is looking her in the eye and telling her exactly how they feel about her. the one exception is genya, and that sort of bites her in the ass until it doesn't, but i digress. the point is, the only mal perspective we get in the books is alina's perception of mal, and the bonus content of the "lost" letter he'd written to her while looking for the stag in fjerda. granted, that letter says a lot about mal and how he feels about alina, so if you didn't take the time to read the letter when reading the book, chances are you weren't so hot on mal unless you have sexy critical reading skills like me (or just really love the childhood best friends to lovers trope).

getting all the gritty, messy details of how hard mal is trying to get back to alina in the show makes him so much more of a sympathetic character than he may have seemed at first glance for the majority of shadow and bone from alina's perspective. the show really stresses that the bond alina and mal have is mutual and powerful, and i think that's fucking perfect, actually.

this point was really driven home during the episode we see that mal has a matching scar on his palm that is related to alina, just like how alina has a mal-related scar on her palm. that scene in the brig was so good, especially when they ask each other what they're in for, and alina says "the usual," and after a pause, mal replies "the usual" as well. he could be lying because he knows she would feel bad if she was the reason he chose to stir trouble to go to the brig, but he could also be saying that he usually actively chooses to be sent to the brig for defending alina or because alina is usually already there and he wants to be with her. knowing that and then seeing alina have the scar on her palm erased was. fucking devastating (in a good-ish way), and im kind of hoping alina either chooses to have the tailoring removed so she can see the scar again or injures her hand in a mal-related injury so they can match again :(

i have more to say about mal, but i'll save it for the grisha theory/amplifier section

the darkling

overall, darkling portrayal was very spot on, but i didn't really like how he just. gave alina his name so early on. in the books im quite certain he doesn't give alina his first name until the third book? regardless, he doesn't give it to her until they've fought and been enemies for a while. theoretically, kirigan giving his real name to alina so early could be a manipulation tactic (like his moments of 'vulnerability' and 'weakness' with alina in the book), especially because we lose that 'heart to heart' by the campfire after the darkling rescues alina from the fjerdans where alina first starts to see the darkling as human.

i also thought it was interesting that alina kisses kirigan first - in the books they're actually having a serious discussion (i can't remember what about, but when she realizes the darkling is Not Good, she remembers the first time they kissed as a thing he possibly did to distract her from thinking her own thoughts), and the darkling interrupts her with a kiss sexy enough for her to forget what's going on. the show however chooses to do a girlboss she-can-move-on-if-she-wants-to moment which is pretty cool and let's be honest, if you like men and ben barnes is right in front of you giving you Sexy Eyes a whole lot, you are going to want to kiss him. that scene where they get interrupted during a steamy kiss, and they laugh and kirigan leaves the frame just to rush back for one last kiss? that nearly fucking converted me. that was really sweet actually. the show does a fantastic job of showing how captivating kirigan's interest can be.

last note about the kirigan for this section - isn't kirigan the name of the guy who owns the guilded bog for nikolai in kos/row? i can't be sure because i don't have my book with me and i refuse to look up information when i have gone this entire post without looking anything up, but if his name isn't kirigan it's pretty fucking close. i don't know what that means, but i don't think bardugo is the type to name characters similar names for no reason. we'll know for sure if/when the guilded bog is introduced.

zoya

most of zoya's portrayal is really in line with her character and her development throughout the shadow and bone trilogy as well as king of scars and rule of wolves. i think the show did a great job of showing how zoya was in the darkling/kirigan's favor for a while before alina arrived and how she resents alina at first for causing her to not be the darkling's favorite anymore. in addition to that, knowing we find out she is part suli in row makes her casting so much better, and i like that we get to see a little more of her personality in the show than we do in the book shadow and bone. of course we see more of her in siege and storm/ruin and rising, but it's nice to have her become a sympathetic character through the knowledge that she has family in novokribirsk and that she purposefully mans skiffs to see them before she fully sides with alina.

the one thing that made me. just confused was zoya calling alina a "half-breed" at the little palace?? it was so out of place (that particular part of the insult; im pretty sure the other thing she said was very much exactly what she said in the book. some insult about orphans i think), especially knowing that zoya herself is a "half-breed," so that didn't make sense to me.

however, i was glad to see alina immediately embrace zoya as an ally - because she knows from the start of zoya's alliance that she had family that kirigan killed. in the books, alina's parentage is not at all important, and their deaths are never specified to matter, but the show points out from the very beginning that alina's parents were swallowed by the fold. i think this makes alina's immediate compassion and forgiveness of zoya make sense, and it was also very sweet and a little funny to see alina pull zoya into a hug that she so obviously does not expect or want to express as something she wants. it was perfect.

east vs west ravka civil war

i don't have much to say about this except it makes kirigan's actions at the fold seem a little better. not great, not by any means, but knowing that the leader of a growing coup was right on the other side really cements in the idea that kirigan is doing this for what he thinks is the greater good of ravka. im pretty sure in the original trilogy, there was also some tension between east and west ravka, but none of it comes to a head until the events of kos/row. great set up for future ravkan tensions in future seasons.

david and genya & fedyor and ivan

before we get into the last meat and potatoes of this post, i want to talk about love because it's a little bit of a break. take this time to stop reading, stretch, relax your jaw, straighten your back, drink water, etc. you've been here a while. you deserve it

okay so first fedyor and ivan. in the books, fedyor and ivan are just bros (i don't even remember them ever really interacting?) but in the show it is heavily implied they are dating. this is so funny to me, and i love it so much. especially because ivan was in a het relationship with marie in the books (but because the show kills marie off before she dies in the books, obviously that is not happening), so they really just decided that ivan and fedyor were gay for seemingly no reason. except i think ivan died on the skiff during the final battle in the show which is kind of a bummer because he lives through to ruin and rising and has an... interesting arc. fedyor, i think, dies in the battle of the little palace in siege and storm, but i wonder what they'll do with this relationship in next seasons. maybe fedyor will take ivan's place as grieving boyfriend with ptsd, but im not sure. i honestly don't even know for certain if ivan dies in the show, so we'll see.

as for genya and david, i would just like to point out the little hints of mutual affection. in the books, it's kind of implied that genya had feelings for david first and he didn't realize his own feelings until after she's scarred by the darkling, but in the show we see david actually looking at genya during the winter fete! like looking, appreciating the view! i loved the show choosing to include that small amount of mutuality, and after finishing rule of wolves it definitely made me feel some type of way. david and genya. i love them, they're perfect.

grisha theory/amplifiers

we're nearing the final stretch in this post, however, i have a lot to say about grisha theory and amplifiers, and i also have a lot to say for the battle of the fold so this "final stretch" will probably be. a very long stretch.

so obviously because of the nature of books and narrative writing, there was a lot of space within the shadow and bone book to go over the grisha theory alina was learning at her time in the little palace in great detail, however in the show we hardly even get any grisha theory at all. the little we get is actually from the apparat. im not sure if we get anything from bhagra. i don't even think we get the phrase "like calls to like" which is the most basic piece of grisha theory throughout the entire grishaverse.

i am definitely. bitter about this. i obviously didn't want huge long meditations on grisha theory in the show, but pretty much the whole time alina was at the little palace, i felt like she had so much time free time to wander around the palace, hang out with nadia and marie, daydream about mal and kirigan. don't get me wrong - those are all valuable activities - but i feel like it missed the point of alina's time at the little palace. she felt isolated there; yes, she had nadia and marie, but she couldn't share with them everything she was going through because she didn't want anyone to truly know how difficult mastering her abilities were. and because she was so isolated, she throws herself into grisha theory, especially during the times in which she can't summon her abilities by herself. this is when she learns about why she's been so sickly her whole life (because she has not used her abilities, and grisha derive some form of life force and energy from using their abilities), all about amplifies, and other really cool world-building for grisha abilities and culture. instead, it was difficult to tell (at least for me) in the show if the palace and the little palace were even different places while in the books the little palace was such a whimsical, ancient, and magical place for alina compared to the gaudiness of the main palace.

the collar

anyway, complaints about architecture and alina's subpar theory education aside, the little bit of grisha theory we get is from the apparat when he talks about ilya morozova and the three amplifiers he was attempting to make during his lifetime. when the apparat is describing amplifiers, it almost seems like amplifers - not just morozova's inventions - are super rare in the world of the show. amplifiers are relatively rare in the books, obtained by only some of the most powerful grisha (zoya, ivan, alina), but they still exist. from what we've seen of zoya and ivan, they didn't seem to have amplifiers on their person, so it looks like alina is unique not only in getting an amplifier from one of morozova's beasts, but also in just getting an amplifier in general, which is a little weird.

EDIT: thanks to @laelipoo for pointing out that zoya is actually shown to have what looks like a tiger’s tooth embedded in the skin of her wrist in the first episode! so okay this shows that powerful grisha still have amplifiers in the world of the show, but this probably suggests that instead of being pieces of jewelry like in the books, they act more as body modifications, which is really interesting. if im not mistaken, ivan’s amplifier is a necklace in the book, so maybe his show-amplifier would’ve been embedded in the skin of his chest. regardless, i’d still like to see more discussion on how amplifiers in the show work - which, now that we know zoya most probably has an amplifier, we might get to see with her becoming more prevalent of a character in the projected arcs of the show (both shadow and bone trilogy as well as kos/row)

i can't remember if morozova was ever referred to as "the bonesmith" (i feel like he has been, but not in the way the apparat refers to him in the show), but i feel as though that was a kind of. foreshadowing for how we would see the stag amplifier work later in the show. in the book, the stag's antlers are a literal collar around alina's neck that remains there until she loses her abilities, so the metaphor of being "owned" by the darkling is definitely there. it never stops being there until she loses the ability that makes her his mirror and his tool. however, in the show we definitely. do not get that.

so i've seen some people say that they hate the design of the stag collar, and i cannot say i was a huge fan of looking at it myself. but that just really cemented in the fact that kirigan forcing the collar on her is a complete violation of her body and her agency. the fact that the bones erupt from her skin and that her skin looks irritated where the bones puncture through her skin just reinforces the idea that this fusion is not natural and is not supposed to be pretty because kirigan taking control of her in this way is really really terrible actually. in addition to the collar, the show also gives kirigan a circle of bone embedded in his hand - which, hand versus collar, who has the most agency in this situation, his hand is quite literally around her neck, etc - but i feel like they made this change so that non-readers could see and understand the mutuality of the amplifier in a physical manifestation because the show doesn't expand on that theory at all.

i really liked that the show kept the reason for alina gaining control of the amplifier being her connection with the stag before kirigan killed it because that at least is consistent with the theory in the books, especially with the expansion of that same theory in kos/row with zoya's connection with juris and how true use of an amplifier requires mutual connection, understanding, and suffering between the grisha and the animal.

i also thought that the way the show portrayed alina taking back control of her power with the stag's horns absorbing into her own bones was a really effective way to show that the power is hers now, and that it is a part of her. however, i wish the show had kept some evidence of the collar because of how it quickly became a piece of her iconography in the books as well as a symbol of her power. seeing as how alina stabbed the circle of bone out of kirigan's hand (very sexy girlboss moment), i wonder if kirigan will still be able to control her abilities. if he can, i hope that any time he uses her abilities, the horns emerge from her skin again as a visual signifier that alina is being violated and that her own power is being used against her. OR even at the times in which alina uses kirigan's power against him (like if the show depicts the conclusion to the battle of the little palace where alina uses the darkling's merzost) to have the horns come out of her skin to show that she is reinforcing her bond with him. both would be really cool.

alina and mal

okay so in ruin and rising we learn that not only are alina and mal bffs and in love whatever, but also that they've been drawn to each other because mal is actually the host to the last of morozova's amplifiers. and then alina looks back at the times in which she's felt the most powerful or when they encountered morozova's beasts, and she realizes that all of those times coincide with when she had important moments with mal. this reveal is huge in the series, and without the build up, i fear it might seem like it would've come out of nowhere if the show chooses to go in the same direction.

for example, alina and mal in the book only find the stag after they kiss for the first time. however, in the show they don't kiss. they don't even move mal's "i see you now" speech to right before they find the stag. it's simply a jump cut to alina and mal in the forest looking at the stag. they might be talking, but i don't think it was an 'important' moment for them.

however, they've been setting mal up as a better-than-average tracker since the very beginning with ana kuya asking him specifically to hunt for dinner. mal also admits that when he saw alina's power come from the tent when kirigan is testing her power that he heard a 'high-pitched tone' and somehow intuitively knew that it was her or something like that. he also tells alina that he'll always be able to find his way to her, no matter what, which is really romantic of course, but it is also part of their connection as one of morozova's three amplifiers and the girl who will possess at one point in time two of the three amplifiers.

i also think that the scene in ruin and rising when alina kills mal for his power is supposed to directly mirror the scene in the shadow and bone book where alina tells mal before they find the stag that she wants him to kill her before she can be caught by the darkling; part of the reason she feels strongly enough to ask this is because she understands grisha theory enough to know what the darkling's plans for the stag and her are. when she's protecting mal and the stag from the darkling, she begs mal to kill her. but he doesn't. and in ruin and rising, when they're out of options during the final battle, mal tells alina to kill him. and she does.

but without alina asking to be killed paired alongside the lack of intimate mal and alina moment before they find the stag, i wonder if the show will be heading in the same direction as the books in terms of mal's status as the last of morozova's creations, or if they'll decide to do something different.

battle of the fold

i think the most obvious difference in the battle of the fold is that kaz, inej, and jesper are like. just chillin on the skiff. additionally, zoya is on the skiff (her presence there was discussed in the zoya section), and mal is not a prisoner in the skiff like he was in the book - he snuck on. for the six's presence on the skiff, i don't mind it and i actually like how they participate in the battle (inej throwing a knife into kirigan's chest and nearly ending his shit right then and there was something we always wanted but did not know we wanted. same with zoya and inej bonding during a fight), but the change in mal's freedom status on the ship is a little more complicated.

in the books, the darkling lets alina and mal spend one last night together (with bars between them) before whatever happens on the fold. i can't remember if he tells alina that he plans to execute mal in the fold, but regardless it becomes apparent that is his plan when he throws mal overboard, on the edges of alina's sunlight, and begins reigning in the sunlight so that mal will be consumed by the fold. it's the fact that mal is in danger that alina manages to gain control of her power once more, and she saves mal. the group of dignitaries from the various nations are still on the ship when she makes her escape, and she uses the Cut - a form of summoner ability that she has never used before and has only ever been used by the darkling. she makes the terrible and difficult decision to let the dignitaries die in the fold alongside the darkling, because she believes it's a worthy sacrifice to make, and she and mal escape together.

i think this sequence of events would've tracked really well in the show with how alina had previously been depicted as mal's protector, but the show chooses not to have alina save mal and kill the dignitaries. instead, the show has kirigan kill the dignitaries and also has mal have a homoerotic fist fight with kirigan which is. not exactly not in line with themes the show has put on, especially with how mal and kirigan have interacted before in the show.

in the books, we don't see mal and the darkling interact without alina as a buffer, and so a fistfight between them in the battle of the fold in shadow and bone wouldn't have made narrative sense and would've just ended up feeling cheap. however we do see mal and kirigan interact without alina in the show - when mal is showing kirigan where the stag is and kirigan learns alina's favorite flower through mal, and when kirigan gives mal that petty little speech about how he'll get alina eventually while mal grows old and dies.

there's an interesting phenomenon in certain kinds of love triangles; most of the time you see love triangles in the classic sense of Person B and Person C both being in love with Person A, who has to make the choice between B and C. however, that's not a true love triangle - there also needs to be a connecting factor between B and C. and, in most cases, that connecting factor is the ritual of masculine homosocial rivalry. so when applying this kind of love triangle to alina, mal, and kirigan, we see that both mal and kirigan have feelings for alina, but they also have a connection to each other through their rivalry, which is as much about rituals of masculine conquering (whether the person they are wanting to conquer is alina or the other man is a very interesting question to which the answer is yes) as it is about being the person alina loves.

do i personally like the kirigan/mal fight in the fold? no, i would've much preferred to see alina rescue and protect mal. however, i do recognize that the fight makes narrative sense within the show, and it was really funny to see kirigan get his shit rocked by mal's bare fists a couple of times. i would say i hope he's been humbled by the experience but we all know that's not true.

also remember when i mentioned that kirigan is the one who kills the dignitaries here instead of alina leaving them to die? and remember, way back in the beginning when i said that alina inadvertently getting her cartography unit killed in the show may have been a swap for some deaths in the battle of the fold? alina being excused from the deaths of the dignitaries in the show but responsible for the deaths of her cartography friends at the beginning is what i was talking about. like i said way back (or maybe i didn't say it but im saying it now), it makes narrative sense. i get it.

however, i think the choice not to have alina perform the Cut on the skiff when she regains control of her power is an interesting one. because, in the book, that was an ultimate show-off of power (even if it was a terrible moment for alina). no one else but the darkling can perform a Cut, and as soon as alina forcibly takes control of her power from the darkling she uses his own signature move to leave him for death? that's a power move. that's irony. that's a physical manifestation of alina being able to adopt and take advantage of some of the darkling's power and use it against him, which is definitely a main theme in the book as it happens every single time alina gets close to defeating him and also when she actually defeats him.

so the Cut is really important, and i want to see in what other situation the show might have alina perform a Cut of her own against kirigan, or if they'll even include that aspect of reclaiming of power. i really want them to.

conclusion

so what have we learned? i think, first and foremost, we have learned that i have so many opinions and should learn how to be sweet and concise with my words. we have also learned there were a lot of changes between the grishaverse books and the series, and these were only the changes that i remembered off the top of my head having watched the series almost a week ago and having reread the books over the past few months.

in addition to those things, we have learned that, in my academic opinion, many of the changes made to fit the story into the screen were positive changes or, at the very least, changes i am interested in seeing develop. in the end, i am just a fan, and regardless of what season 2 may throw at us, i trust bardugo's decisions because she has never let me down narratively before, so i'll probably end up loving things the show ends up doing because i am, at my core, a simple sort of person.

i had a lot of fun writing this all up, and i hope this super long post was informative or entertaining in some way. thank you so much for reading<3<3<3<3

#shadow and bone #s&b #shadow and bone netflix #s&b netflix #long post #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #the darkling #general kirigan #shadow and bone analysis #shadow and bone meta #peach stuff #jesus christ. if you read all this you are so strong. stronger than the us marines. i am so sorry im like this #you'd think during finals season my theory and analysis brain would turn off but no. apparently not #i did this as a reward. for finishing a research paper. i wrote and compiled all of this as a REWARD #also if my details are off or wrong in any way it's because i didn't do any fact checking <3 #im only human after all #and you can always comment or message me saying i fucked up and i'll edit this post #i haven't slept in. maybe 30 hours #i have gotten 5 hours of sleep within the past 48+ hours. i am having a great time #today is my break day though my next final isn't due until friday evening so i'll just. do it tomorrow and friday #anyways yeah. im so sorry for this. this also may be the best thing ive ever done

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vs-redemption · 3 years

Note

I originally gave this idea to someone else awhile ago but I can’t find it anywhere anymore but I do remember it was a nice idea lmao and bc I love your writing I’ll give it to you as well!

Bacon bits Dabi x Polar opposite reader. And I mean this in literally every way possible. Like he’s all black leather, rough and tough and she’s all pink glitter, soft and sweet.

I love you!! - 🐱💕

From Cindy: Hello 🐱anon!!! Thanks for requesting this fun idea. At first I thought this was going to turn out to be kind of goofy, but then it ended up being kind of... sweet? I don’t know. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy it!

Opposites Attract (Dabi x Polar Opposite! Fem!Reader)

⚠️This story contains some spoilers about Dabi’s past ⚠️

Nobody was more confused about how Dabi had ended up dating someone like you, who was so completely opposite to his personality in every way, than Dabi himself. He knew very well that it made no sense, and logically, everything about you should have grated on his nerves. Somehow though, it didn’t. Somehow, you two worked.

If you were to ask anyone else in the League of Villains, they’d snicker behind their hand before telling you that Dabi had mommy issues. The way you doted on your boyfriend so sweetly would have been nauseating to all of them if it weren’t for the fact that you were just as kind to the rest of them too. You were always quick to rush to their aid whenever you saw one of them looking hurt or upset, while Dabi preferred to make fun of them or just ignore them altogether.

“Are you sure you should even be with Dabi?” Spinner would ask while you checked the bump he’d gotten on his head from driving like a maniac during one of their missions. “You could do so much better.”

Dabi hated whenever they tried to put ideas of leaving him in your head, and sometimes he worried there was truth behind their teasing. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he had “mommy issues,” but your soft and gentle nature did remind him of some of the less terrible times he’d had during his childhood with his sister and mother. That was as far as the similarities went though, and he knew none of the people in his biological family would ever go out wearing hot pink or carry a bedazzled phone case. The one thing he did agree with completely was that you could do better than him, but he was too selfish to ever bring that up.

“Look at this one, Dabi!” you smile while tilting your phone toward him, the light from the screen reflecting off his staples. “It’s so cute.”

Normally, Dabi wouldn’t be caught dead cuddling up in bed while scrolling through Instagram pictures of baby animals and cute latte art, but hearing your excited gasps and giggles calmed him down and kept his mind from drowning itself in the bitter hatred he felt toward the rest of the world. Honestly, Dabi envied your ability to find joy and happiness in such simple things. He hardly cared about anything anymore aside from the burning need to ruin Endeavor and all of hero society in general, so forcing him to spend time doing anything frivolous like that actually helped to keep him grounded in the present.

When you had first started dating Dabi, you’d tried to get him to expand his clothing style a bit to include more colors, but that didn’t work out very well. He’d gotten extremely annoyed when you started showing him some outfits you’d bookmarked on your phone that you wanted him to try, and he had rejected every single one. To get revenge for irritating him, he’d snatched up your phone and started looking up some outfits he’d like to see you try on. Of course they were all black and a couple of them even made you blush in embarrassment, causing him to smirk victoriously.

Even though changing his clothing style ended up being a bust, you had still somehow found ways to spend time together doing something fun you could both enjoy. One of Dabi’s favorite things to do together was dye each other’s hair. He’d been a little nervous at first, letting you in on the secret that his hair wasn’t naturally black, but now he really enjoyed letting you take care of hiding the bright white strands of his roots while he closed his eyes and relaxed under your touch. He returned the favor of course, and made sure to give you a heavenly scalp massage while working the color into your hair.

Another thing Dabi actually liked doing was painting your nails. It had surprised you because he was the one to suggest it first after hearing you make a comment about how difficult it was to paint with your non dominant hand, and how you always messed up the wet paint on the hand you’d already finished. Dabi didn’t mind helping you because it was another thing you could do together that also served as a soothing task that kept his inner demons under control.

“Does it always have to be pink?” he’d ask with a huff every single time.

“Yep!” You’d tell him cheerfully, “but I’ll let you pick the decals this time!”

Usually you made him choose from different types of glitter or rhinestones, but every once in a while you’d let him decorate your nails with little skulls or, when he was feeling especially sassy, blue flame stickers that you’d special ordered online to surprise him.

When Dabi really allowed himself to think about it, he knew exactly why he was dating someone so different from himself. It was because you were the first person to ever keep him around because you wanted him there, not because you needed him. The whole reason he’d even been born was to fulfill his father’s sick fantasy of surpassing All Might, and there was no way the League of Villains would put up with his dark, reclusive behavior if it weren’t for his powerful quirk and dedication to the cause.

At the end of the day, dating Dabi didn’t benefit you in any way. He was mean and grumpy, plus he was a villain which made it hard for him to support you the way a partner should. The only explanation he could think of for you keeping him around was that you truly wanted him to be there, and having someone who could validate his existence like that was something he’d craved since before he’d even been old enough to understand that concept. So, he would endure the snide remarks from other people and sit through as many ridiculous Korean boy band music videos as you wanted if it meant keeping you in his life.

#Dabi x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Dabi #Bnha dabi #bnha #mha #cindy's writing #writing requests #🐱anon

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thero0ks · 3 years

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My Most Treasured Items

Reiner receives a letter from someone in his past.

No happy ending, just angst.

Season Four spoilers

Trigger Warnings: Detailed description of death/corpses, brief discussion of childhood abuse

The detour had never been in the battle plan. Hanji and Levi would probably be pissed if they knew she’d taken an alternate route. She had studied the map for weeks to know the layout of the city, so that this detour would only add a couple seconds to her time. That’s why she took off a few moments earlier than everyone else. Her feet landed in the alleyway. Peeking her head out to check the Main Street she found it was empty. Rushing to the lone mailbox she pulled out the crisp white envelope. Having taken great care to avoid any wrinkles in the delicate paper she gave the envelope a soft kiss before placing it in the mailbox.

Four years later she would be able to speak her peace. Her shoulders relaxed. A weight lifting off her as she took off in the air once more to rendezvous with the rest of the squad.

* **

They sat around the table discussing Zeke’s betrayal. Reiner proposed an immediate counter attack. They left the meeting agreeing to think on the matter.

Entering his own barracks he found a letter placed on his bedside table. The flowing script pulled at something in his memory. Amber eyes flickered over to the name of the sender and his heart stopped. Y/N L/N.

His legs gave way as he sat on the edge of the bed tearing open the letter. Another Devil from his past had come back to haunt him.

To my beloved Reiner,

What would I do if I had 13 years to live? I’ve thought about the question for four years now, and I still don’t have an answer. By my calculations you only have a year, maybe two left?

I know your love for me was forced, and I truly apologize for the turmoil I caused you. A devil like me is hard to love for someone like you. The bitter truth that you were always enough for me, but I was only another sin that stained your hands is a hard thing to bear. I guess I have a knack for loving the wrong people. Perhaps that’s my punishment for the sins of my ancestors? Isn’t that what you Marleyans say?

You said a lot of things four years ago, but I didn’t get to say a word. I just watched you leave, and dealt with the aftermath of all my friends dying. For the record, I never wanted any of this. I think all this death is senseless, and I meant what I always said that this world could use more love.

I guess this world doesn’t have a place for dreamers.

I wanted to hate you for choosing them over us, but I realize that’s your home. It's easy to hate something you hold no attachment to. Loyalty is a strong trait, and it’s something I wanted to curse you for. I looked at you leaving me as a betrayal, but how can you betray something or someone you were never loyal to in the first place?

I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I forgive you for not choosing me, but I also ask that you forgive me for not choosing you anymore either. There is not a decision either one of us could change that would have put us on a different path. For both of our sakes I wish to allow you a glimpse into my dreams.

I choose to believe in a world where we made all the right choices. One where we ended up together, happy, and surrounded by all our fallen comrades.

Maybe you have no desire to see me in that way. Perhaps every stolen moment we had was nothing more then something you did to pass the time. I want to believe the man you showed me exists, because everything I showed you was real.

Even after four years I cannot hate you. I hope your heart softens when you think of me too.

With love,

Y/N L/N

A tear splashed on the cream colored paper. Reiner’s hand moved to his cheek trying to recall the moment his eyes leaked water. His heart ached at her words.

Every time he recounted his time on Paradis to other Marleyans internally he always ended the statement with “except her.” Never had he said it aloud, but never had he lumped her in with the rest of them.

He remembered the night when she finally opened up about herself. Growing up in poverty, her abusive father, and the inner turmoil she felt about loving the man that abused her. He’d been so angry when she recounted the abuse to him, and the confusion he felt when she expressed empathy for the monster.

Gripping the letter he realized he had been a different monster to her. Wasn’t that his goal? Make the Devils of Paradis suffer? Then why did he want to beg for forgiveness at her feet for the sins he committed against her?

Running his hand through his hair he straightened the letter. Rereading it, hoping for poisoned words to jump out of the page. He deserved every verbal lashing she could bestow upon him, but he knew they would never come.

He wanted to write back to her. Tell her there wasn’t a moment he regretted leaving her on that island to rot. How her heartbroken look still haunted his dreams. Mostly he just wanted to assure her that he too wanted desperately to believe that in some alternative universe they would be together forever.

Here he was encouraging a full scale attack on the island. “Forgive me for not choosing you anymore either.” The hope of a relationship between the two had been crushed with that statement, but love still lingered in their hearts.

She was exactly what he needed. His bed felt cold without her. He still had issues going to bed alone, because she wasn’t there to coax into bed. Knowing her soft heart would melt if he told her he couldn’t sleep without her.

It was such a strange thing that someone so small was friends with the dark. She often told him she found peace when darkness coated the earth. Perhaps that’s what made it easy for him to fall asleep in her arms. He’d tried to tell her he was a monster, but she’d always kiss his forehead, and assure him that he was a good man, and that she would love him no matter what.

A knock on the door pulled Reiner out of his thoughts. “What is it?”

Porco poked his head through the door, “we have all the Devils bodies. Magath wants you to take a look,” Porco said, gripping the door knob. “See if anybody essential to their military is among them.”

Reiner sighed, folding the letter up and tucking it away before following Porco down to the yard where the bodies were being kept. The gate guards gave them a nod of acknowledgment as they passed.

Several rows of bodies were laid out and Reiner inspected each. They were all new faces. The attack on Paradis they launched four years ago had wiped out the scout regiment.

Reaching the last row he caught sight of a female corpse. The (dark/light) hair looked familiar. His feet seemed to echo off the pavement. Stopping in front of the body he took her in. Her soft curves had grown cold and stiff. Several bullet holes littered her body, and her neck was twisted in an odd angle. Bile rose in Reiner’s throat as he took in the soft cheeks, and her eyes that once held so much warmth were nothing but an empty abyss devoid of life. The color now dull the light long gone out.

Tears streamed down his face as shaking hands reached out to her. Nothing felt like her as he touched her cold skin. He hadn’t felt the sting of pavement as he fell on his knees to grip her hand and brush the hair from her face.

Porco remained silent. Taking in Reiner’s actions. Porco couldn’t find it in his heart to judge the man for falling in love with a devil. Especially when he had watched the woman die.

“I should have taken you back to Marley.” Reiner babbled, amber eyes fixed in the past.

“Reiner, she chose to attack Marley,” Porco tried to reason.

The large man rounded on him. “You know nothing about her,” he seethed. “She never wanted any of this.” Running his fingers through his hair. “All she wanted was to find something more out there than hell she was living in.”

“You can’t blame her death on yourself.” Porco reasoned.

“She would never have come here if it was not for me,” Reiner stated, as he removed a leather pouch that was strapped to her thigh. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he pulled a small stone out.

* ** “Hey L/N!” Reiner said tossing the small stone at her.

A squeak escaped her lips as she lifted her hands to block her face. The stone making an audible thud against her ribs. “You didn’t even try to catch it,” Reiner said, picking the stone back up.

“Well I’m sorry, I grew up with an older brother who would have just pelted me with the rock,” she huffed. “It was a natural reaction to go into defense mode.”

Reiner let out a laugh at the thought of an elder L/N terrorizing her. “It’s a lucky rock,” he said offering the rock to her. He held the perfectly round stone between his index finger and thumb and her fingers brushed against his to pluck it out of his grasp.

“What makes it lucky?” she inquired. Curious eyes flickered up to catch his gaze.

He simply shrugged, “it’s perfectly round. That’s gotta be lucky.”

His answer seemed to satisfy her. “If I make it through our next mission without dying I’ll believe it’s lucky,” she said tucking the stone away in her leather pouch she kept secured to her thigh.

“What’s in your pouch?” Reiner asked, his head tilted as his gaze focused on her legs.

“My most treasured items,” she said with a shrug. “Tell you what Braun if I die before you, you can have my pouch and whatever is in it.”

Reiner ruffled her hair. “You’re not going to die as long as I’m by your side.”

* **

“The only time she wasn’t suffering was when I was lying to her,” Reiner murmured, the guilt washing over him at the sin he most regretted. The luck in the stone had finally faded Reiner thought numbly, or maybe it was the belief in the luck that died.

Perhaps he should be honored that a piece of him was counted among her most treasured possessions. A black and white photograph was the next thing he pulled out. It was a portrait, and Y/N was dressed in Marley’s finest. Joy seemed to be radiating from her face. Reiner’s guilt seemed to lessen. It was possible she had found a way to move on in her daily life.

The next thing he pulled out was a love letter. Reading through it he was surprised to find a small hand drawn portrait enclosed. The letter and portrait signed by Jean Kirstein. By the letter it was a different kind of love. It was the kind of love made for slow mornings, and gentle hearts. It was built for smooth sailing, but was never meant to survive the storms that life threw. Perhaps she knew that, and cherished the safety Jean had brought her for the period of their relationship.

The fact was that Reiner’s relationship with her had been built to weather storms, but he had set sail without her, so she was left to weather the waves without a life preserver. Somehow she’d clawed her way to the shore to try and rebuild what he had taken.

The last thing he pulled out was a small leather journal. Flipping through the pages he found some entries dated to cadet training, and her last entry was the night she died.

“Magath is going to want to read that journal,” Porco stated. Breaking the silence that he had given Reiner to go through her belongings.

Reiner tucked the items back into the satchel. “Can you give me the night to read through it?” Reiner’s downcast eyes took her corpse in one last time.

Porco nodded, “yeah just give it to Magath tomorrow.” Porco gave Reiner’s shoulder an awkward squeeze before leaving him.

Reiner tried to figure out how to say goodbye to the last thing in the past he cared about. The soldier was officially gone, and the only thing that remained was the warrior. All he wanted was more time. His thirteen years were almost up, his best friend and the love of his life didn’t have as much time. Perhaps they would be waiting for him. All he wanted was to see their smiles at the end of all of this. He was tired of fighting, and he was tired of being alone. “We’ll be together again soon,” he vowed, closing the door on death one more time.

#reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you

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kapaskatha · 1 year

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Unleash creativity: how to build a kid's collection that sparks imagination?

Nowadays people think it's quite overrated to put much care into your kid’s collection. To care about what things are they surrounded by, and just let it go as it goes. But didn't we all have something during our childhood that had a great significance in our life? It might not be called and known as a collection back then. But we did have it, and we did pick up and resemble it even today in our life. Small habits, a slight effort by your parents in building your mind subconsciously, all of this show up in the later stages of life, bit by bit.

As a parent you are responsible to pass on the best habits and let your kid use the maximum of their potential, they shouldn’t just be confined to texts or the norms of society, they must have their own style and significance. Often, we circle kids to one particular thing, which we shouldn't because they themselves haven't tried enough things to find what is meant for them. This blocks the creative self of the kid which shouldn't be your goal as a parent. Though they will try many different things when they grow up, as babies they must surround themselves with things that ignite their imagination, which helps them unleash creativity. Children are great mimics of whatever they see around them, be it their parents or things they are surrounded by, you can take care of both. Kapaas Katha’s Home and Kid collection is a sign of what we preach, its motive is not only to help you accessorise your home with unique and comfortable articles but also to help you choose better for your kids.

You can make the perfect kid’s collection with:

Quilts: As babies, they can’t move much, because they are still in the developing, growing stage, and while laying down simply their vision is only confined to those four walls, and everything in that room, most of the time. They must see the soothing colours as they have sensitive eyes and shouldn't be flashed with bright colours. We have kept all of this in mind while choosing the colour, fabric, the design of most of our collection, especially quilts. Simply because of how soothing it is. Our quilts are a perfection when it comes to comfort, the grace of fabric is utmost that it will provide the best sleep to your baby. We have made all the prints in quilt kids friendly, for them to recognize things from the world as well. We have three sizes options in quilts, baby quilts of 40*40 dimension, kids quilts of 60*40 inches, and big kids quilts, 60*90/ 90*108. Though if you get jealous of the comfort, which is quite obvious then you must check our quilt collection for adults as well.

Dohar: Though your kids spend most of their time, around the same room, watching the same things, every day. But whenever you get them out, to be closer to nature, to watch and embrace all of the beautiful colours of nature, the greens and the blue, which you must, you need the same kind of comfort you were providing them while being on the bed, therefore we have created Dohar. A miniature version of quilts, made with the same fabric of soft mulmul, and the same filling inside it as well. The only difference is that it's a lot lighter and thinner as compared to quilts, and therefore perfect to wrap your baby during a walk, or a companion during travelling as well. We have two sizing options available in dohar, kids dohar of 60*40 inches and big kids dohar of 90*60 inches.

Towel: Giving a bath to your little ones is no less than a task, you have to be really considerate while doing so because they do get on your nerves. The baby’s skin is quite sensitive, and it is more while bathing, any hard fabric can cause irritation to your baby’s skin, often leading to infections in most cases. That’s why we have soft cotton towels for them, with the perfect designs to share some giggles on. You might not want to miss them, because we have discounts going on, so grab them today.

Bed Sheet/cot sheet: You must choose a comfortable bed sheet for your babies, which is the bare requirement for them to dive deep into sleep, and also let them sleep peacefully. The bed sheet has all the cute printing and is 60*90 inches. From their manufacturing to their looks, it screams comfort and must be a part of your kid's collection as well.

Cushion cover: Kid’s requirements are different, a lot different from adults at least. So you need to differentiate between the needs and types of things we use on a day-to-day basis. The cushion covers we usually use for adults are incredibly aesthetically pleasing but often we comprise the softness of the material, and most of the design makes the material uneven, and not so soft. On the other hand, your baby can't afford to have such harsh fabric being in contact with their skin, and you can't use the bare cushion because it can pass on germs. Therefore we have made some uniquely designed cushion covers for your babies, with hand block prints including unicorn, rainbow, owl, and greenery which again ignite their imagination, and build a creative bit in themselves.

All of these kids’ collections are not just mere collections but have a vision to help a kid develop a creative self and also build a space in their hearts for all the artisans. It's easy to focus on the mainstream things, as hobbies or as a career, but when you inculcate this in your kid from the very beginning, they understand the importance of having a spark to be unique, while appreciating the beautiful results of it.

Through Kapaas Katha’s Home and Kid collection, your kid will definitely realise the potential of wide imagination, helping them in developing their own creativity.

#latest handloom sarees with price buy handloom cotton sarees online cotton handloom saree blouse designs handloom saree store near me best h

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thewankbankuk · 3 years

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There was six inside! Well, when I say six they where not human anymore more like souls trapped within if, they could choose to leave they wouldn’t want to. Brian was the latest trapped inside he didn’t know about what would happen if he didn’t follow the rules?

Brian was a Firefighter in his hometown of Longridge. Since leaving school at 16 he had longed to fight fires, deep down inside Brian had a thing for protective gear even from his childhood would get excited when he saw firefighters. It was a sort of zing! He felt he was the only one who had it after all nobody else in his station mentioned getting excited about bunker gear! After 11 years of firefighting in the small town he was starting to get bored, same thing every day, sitting around waiting for something to happen, Tuesday was training day, training meant nothing at all when you live in a small town hardly anything fire related happened if he was lucky. Brian was single, never kept in a relationship he had the chances of settling down but, chose not to. Brians sex life was no existent, in a small town like Longridge everyone knew everyone so he found it hard trying to have one. Behind locked doors was the only place where Brian could relax.

Unknown to his fellow firefighters has well as anyone else Brian was gay. This was the reason he wanted to become a firefighter. To look at him you would say never in a million years. 6’4” of pure muscle, he worked out every day toned to protection not an ounce of fat. But, with no-one to show it off to. He had a thing for protective gear and at home had everything he had at work protective wise. When he got home the first thing he would do was to strip down naked and put a full head to toe rubber suit his bunker gear on, the feeling of rubber and his gear over flesh made him horny has hell. Then he would walk into his garage and take a fresh cylinder of air and attach it to his harness and attach his gas mask and then work out in his gear, this was his little piece of heaven until his air ran out, taking all his gear off, time for a shower then to bed where Brian would dream of his future. Brian lived on the edge of town, his place was quite however, he had to be careful as his neighbours would know what he was up to. It was bad enough that every now and then they would take parcels in for him and put in his hallway, just having bunker gear there just went to prove he was just a firefighter and it would be normal. Brian wanted more though. He had firefighting gear however, he was longing for something else, something his station didn’t have and wouldn’t never need……Hazmat gear! Longridge didn’t have any industrial or chemical works neither any mines or even a railroad track in which chemicals would be exported. It instead had a mall on the other side of town, a couple of supermarkets and a few call centres downtown, other than this the town was boring and Brian knew this. Really he thought to himself is it worth it?

Every time there was a course for hazmat training he would apply and would be knocked back by his chief, reason not needed in Longridge. Brian knew this but however, still wanted to try it. Knowing that if he did get a chance to get on a course he wouldn’t be able to strip naked and have fun in a suit. It was mearly for training reason however, still the answer was no. Brian started to subscribe to firefighting magazine looking at chemical protection gear suppliers and places to buy but, His hard drive was full of photos of men in hazmat suits, getting kitted up and working in the suits he wanted this badly and Brian wanted the real deal. He wanted a transfer but, from a small town to a city or an industrial centre questions would be asked why the change and Brian would never be able to say why so he stayed where he was and just went along with daily life. He longed to try a hazmat suit, he purchased a suit off eBay but it did nothing for him. It was a yellow level B suit attached boots and gloves hood for the mask to sit, still it did nothing for him. What he wanted was a level A sadly it was out of his reach. Then it happened right out of the blue. A new company was coming to town! A chemical company was planning a new site just out of town bringing jobs and for a small town like Longridge this was a blessing and for Brian, it meant that the training he sort he would be getting it now. The Chemical company was to have its own in house fire department on site but also needed someone to train with equipment they use from the local fire department. The Chief made the call and selected Brian to be the one from the station to go after all it had to be Brian after all the times he had been turned down. Training was to be out of state at another site, a four week course leaning everything about the company, what it makes, chemical compounds and what Brian really wanted hazmat training. He couldn’t wait. He returned home that day got undressed and put on his yellow level B and had some solo fun in the suit. He cum inside his suit ribbons of milky white man milk stained the inside of his suit, Brian was happy and still in is spunked trapped suit went to bed.

Brian had a few days off and decided to keep the suit on for has long has he could, he wanted to see how long he could go wearing his suit, he showered wearing it in his mind he was preparing for his course showering just decontamination of the suit. Still the inside was covered with sweat, piss and cum which excited Brian no end causing him to rub himself again and again 24 hours in this suit Brian was still on cloud9! However, when it came to take the suit off the stench was amazing. Being naked in the suit was fantastic, he hanged it up in the garage not washing it out waiting for his next play in his suit. Weeks past slowly waiting for his training time to arrive but, each shift after work ended he would return home and instead of his bunker gear would bring out his hazmat suit, kit up and wank off wearing it leaving it on all night. Then the day came. Training out of state meant that he would have to fly 100’s of miles leaving his home for 4 weeks. He was put up in a motel, a quiet mom and pop place. The first 3 weeks was all desk work about the company, practice and chemicals the last week was an introduction to the suits…. Do’s Don’t and NEVER DO! Brian was in a team of five other men who where to be the retained firefighter for the company, These men worked for the chemical plant but where trained for hazmat work whilst Brian was to still keep his job at his local department and would be on call at times of trouble. The trainers had four different kinds of suits that the company used for different spills, each was a level A suit, blue, red, orange and yellow. Each made by a different company and according to spillages a different suit to be used. However in the corner of the room was two very different suit, Auer green ones each hung from the boots and had S4 and T6 on the back. These suits excited Brian because they where different, rubber inside and the smell only just noticeable but he could smell it all the same, he asked the question are we going to try those on. No they where just for show he was told. To Brian these where special for all the wrong reasons has far as he could see these suits had a black rubber inside, just by looking at them he thought best of both world in one suit! Level A, rubber inside and green outside what’s not to like. He lusted over them, knowing that he couldn’t have them. The real reason for these suit was the trainers wanted to see if any of the six men showed signs of interest in them and it looked as if they had found one. The men where taken to another room were they where kitted out with sensors stuck to all parts of the body, shown to put the suits on each day they would wear a different suit and whilst in full kit do different tasks from crawl space training to fixing a leaking valve whilst gallons of water would be applied. Then heavy training whilst wearing the suits, teamwork etc etc, the monitors and probes where attached to show in real time how the men where enjoying the suits or not. Really, it was to see who had an interest in the suits and to whom it was just a job. Brian was passing but, for all the wrong reasons which made the instructors very happy indeed.

Brian was enjoying himself but not trying to show that he was but, the monitors knew other wise, whilst know one was watching he would have a quick grope of this dick inside the suit which the probes would pick up on and send information what he was doing back to the trainers. At the end of each day the other men would be glad to get out of their suits after all being a retained firefighter they would only be in the suit for a few hours no longer however, Brian would alway be the last one out really because he wanted no one to see that he had wet spots on his pants. But, it was too late it was noticed which made the instructors know what they had got their man. The last week of training went too quickly and by time everyone was saying goodbye to each other and see you soon when the plant opens. Brian was last in the room but before he was to leave he had to return back to the room where the green Auer suits hanged from the boots all week. He was the only one in the room but still being monitored by CCTV he popped his head in the hanging suit and took a deep breath… OMG he thought to himself, hoping he was alone. He started the lick the rubber inside and at the same time put is hand down his pants, his cock strained in his trousers and he began to stroke it. All this time he was being monitored and what seemed liked minutes in Brians mind was seconds. Bang! The door swing open and in walked the instructors. Brian explained its not what you think, they both looked at him and said we have been observing you from the moment you arrived and that these two suits have played an important part of your training. Brian looked suprised, confused. Little did he know the purpose of these suits and the role they played in his life from now on.

They explained having two suits in the room was to make interest normally in a group of six, two men would find interest in the Auer suits and want to try them on at the beginning of the week, they would be monitored during the week has the fascination continued and by the end of the week when others would be leaving they would be ask if they wanted to try out these suits for themselves. Both men would jump at the chance of wearing the suits and it would be too late for them, they would be told that these suits play a special purpose and are used when we cannot risk putting normal hazmat fire fighter in difficult situations however, the students who were attracted by them would agree to wearing the suit naked and sweat from there hot bodies would be the catalyst to converting them into hazmat bots usually in 48 hours however, in times of desperation students who didn’t want to wear the suits where drugged, stripped and placed in the suits, with the process not enacted properly they would try to escape before the programming kicked in they would have the choice become trapped in with free will or to escape by tugging the zipper, when opened only remain in soul, their bodies would melt away as soon as the air came into contact with the process. The suit would be left hanging to dry out the remains of fluids left behind but, never washed out for fear of contamination. This time it was different, the process had already started. Normally it took days for the attraction to kick in but, Brian by licking the inside had started it, without knowing his body was being transformed by nanobots. He looked ahead eyes glazed Brian was different though he really wanted it. It was more than a fetish to him. He wanted to be part of it. He stood there in a trans like state. Still with his hard on, his cock standing to attention and the other hand at his side, The instructors had to act fast, they locked the door and suited each other in their own Red level 1 suits as not to get infected, Brian just looked ahead not moving. Strip, they said and right away without hesitation he did what he was told, revealing his torn and ripped body, standing there to attention still sporting a hard on, they looked at him knowing that they could not have him or risk getting infected themselves has the process had began so quickly they placed over his naked body a backpack and gasmask making sure that it was correctly placed, then ear pods where put in. The rubber that clinged from the suits inners formed a hood and helmet trapping the mask inplace along with the ear pods then the rubber started to consume his entire body from head to toe, Brian remained hard during the entire transformation his body rocking slowly back and forth as if he was enjoying the process taking place. The instructors then spoke to Brian that his suit can and will never be removed and it’s not there just for show, you’re body is changing you are becoming a Hazmat Bot, you’re breathing still and is just for show when the tank is empty your training will begin. We will zip you up and the suit will continue to breath for you and give the illusion of that there is a person inside and not a bot. The black rubber inside bonded with Brians flesh has he continued to breathe. The visor of the suit when went from clear too black even though he could still see out his eyes where being upgraded, to look at them you would only see black orbs no features of his face just a black on black mask and visor. Then is visor turn jet black however, Brian could see out no-one could see in. Brian just stood there, his body and mind being re written his DNA changing still some of Brian existed, Just then his eyes rebooted and data hit towards his new digital brain, he knew his name and who he is becoming because Brian wanted it to happen he still remain a bit of Brian they had created him this way if he was going to be a special hazmat bot who would deal with exstream situations that no-one else could attend and be transported at short notice attend the many chemical plants they had, to the

outside world he was just a man in a hazmat suit. The instuctors could not believe it this had to be the quickest conversion they had ever done. One thing that’s important with Brians freewill they explained is that the suit can never be taken off! If it removed you will cease to exist has a physical being and will be trapped in side with the other souls who had worn it before you. Brian nodded and in a monotone voice said ‘Understood!’ The suit number on the back transformed from ’T6’ to ’T7’ Brian now known has T7 had no reason to remove the suit it was all he always wanted. Silently he stood there for hours whilst is programming and training took placed the trainers in their red suits knowing a job well done walked out of the class room with him, down two flights of steps, double doors where keycards where swiped into a restricted basement, there Brian was placed with other Auer hazmat bots in a tiny room all closed in tight waiting patiently, even though he was a hazmat bot his programming pleasured him until it was time to go to work. Information flooded his programming that team work was important to him now he was part of something bigger a wash of green rubber hazmat bots all packed tightly rocking slowly together until needed. His programming kicked in again explaining the importance of team work and being in a team. This went on looping in his mind. His instructors left him with is new teammates to finish his transformation in T7’s mind he was home this was all he ever wanted, meanwhile news was sent to the Chief of the fire department that Brian was killed in a car crash leaving the training centre to the airport and never made it home.

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