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mononijikayu · 1 month

Text

only fools — fushiguro toji

In that fleeting moment of intimacy, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the warmth of each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow of love and devotion that echoed in the depths of your souls. Over and over again, you smiled against his lips and he smiled back. It was contentment, it was everything.

GENRE: Pre-Hidden Inventory Arc, 1990s - 2000s;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Friendship, Romance, Star-Crossed Lovers, Emotional Hurt, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Mention of Alcholism, Mention of Death, Depiction of Physical Touch, , Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: only fools (cover) by bts rm and jungkook

note: this one has a bit of connection to us and them, as my ocs were heavily featured in this!!! i went back and forth with how to write this. but this is what i came out with. its lent and the holy time for many christians and muslims, so i thought writing about something this long. i wanted to cut it even more but well, i thought whatever i wrote is more genuine. if i cut it, i feel like it would lose the genuinity. so here it is!!! enjoy it, i hope you have a good holiday, i hope you all rest up and hydrate!!! i love you all!!! <3

YOU WERE BOTH SO YOUNG WHEN ZENIN TOJI MET FIRST MET YOU. In the expansive grounds surrounding the Zenin manor, amidst the towering trees that seemed to stretch towards the heavens, your presence stood out like a delicate bloom in a field of thorns. Zenin Toji couldn't help but notice you, a small figure nestled among the dense foliage, almost like a forgotten relic of a bygone era. You were like the little geisha dolls Genmei carries around with her, long black hair falling over your knees, dressed prim and proper like a proud and noble lady. Toji was used to seeing girls like you around Zenin manor. But rarely did he ever see one in such a state like you.

If uncle Naobito’s wife saw you, she would have smacked your head up and down. But she was not and Toji was never going to tell. Not that he needed to. You were no Zenin. You were someone else. It was intriguing to watch you, how tightly you rested your head against the bark of the tree. How deeply your kimono is tightly pressed against your body. You were cocooned in your own touch, as though protecting yourself from the world beyond. Despite the grandeur that existed about your presence, you appeared diminutive and unassuming, as if time itself had overlooked your presence.

Your posture, huddled against the chill of the earth, spoke volumes of your resilience and quiet strength. Even as your elegant sleeves trailed along the ground, gathering flecks of dirt and grime, you seemed unconcerned with the state of your attire, your focus directed inward rather than on superficial appearances. It was a stark contrast to the lavish gatherings and opulent displays that often characterized life within the Zenin estate. The last place for such a fine little noble lady should be this edge of the Zenin estate. Not even servants dwelled here.

Toji couldn't help but be drawn to you, the embodiment of serenity amidst the chaos of their world. As he approached, a sense of familiarity washed over him, as if he had stumbled upon a kindred spirit in the midst of the vast wilderness. This shared affinity forged a connection between them, bridging the gap between two souls seeking refuge from the pressures and expectations of their surroundings.

In the tranquility of that secluded spot, Toji couldn't help but sense a shared need for sanctuary, a desire to escape the relentless demands of their respective worlds. He understood, perhaps more than most, the weight of expectation and duty that rested upon your shoulders. It was a burden he bore himself, one that had been ingrained in him since they had concluded that he was useless to them. Despite being the son of the previous clan head, Toji was relegated to be as lowly as servants. The name Zenin did not mean anything, if he didn’t have powers. The good will of others was what let him remain untouched. Well, untouched enough not to be beaten.

Toji's mind drifted to his cousin Naoki, a constant presence in his life and a rare source of solace amidst the turmoil of their upbringing. Naoki had always been there for him, offering companionship and camaraderie when the weight of their responsibilities threatened to crush them both.If anything, cousin Naoki was the only one that ever truly felt genuine to him in this house. Together, they sought refuge in the simple pleasures of childhood, finding respite from the rigid expectations of their noble lineage. As he had gotten older, he was more a brother to him than Jinichi ever was. Toji supposes he likes it that way. He felt a little bummed out that he was forced to meddle about with those high rise pricks from the other clans. But that’s his duty, as uncle Naobito’s eldest son, after all.

As he observed you from his vantage point, towering over you with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, The young Zenin man couldn't help but wonder about the young beauty before him. He wonders about what’s there behind the serene facade of your silk fabrics. He had many questions for you. How had you stumbled upon this hidden sanctuary? What trials and tribulations had led you to seek solace among the trees of the Zenin estate? Most of all, where were your shoes?

Yet, despite his curiosity, Toji remained silent, content to observe you from afar, his gaze silent. As though he was trying to figure out the puzzle in his head before he even dared approach you. He had to be careful. None would perhaps mind if it was another Zenin he was meddling with. But it’s quite obvious that you were not Zenin. You were in fact another clan child. And if he doesn't thread carefully, then the clans may end up with animosity. He did not want any trouble, that was pointless. And even then, that would be another headache for Naoki. He couldn’t give more trouble to solve. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft whispers of the wind, you were a mystery waiting to be unraveled, a puzzle whose pieces he yearned to uncover.

The three big clans always came together in these little clique circles, echoed in the small bubble that existed between each and everyone of them. In truth, no one wanted to be here. None of the big three ever liked each other. Yet it was more pretense than anything else. Whoever plays the best, becomes the face of their world. No one has ever liked the bullshit of it all. Not his cousin Naoki, not his daughter, not even Toji himself wanted to be here. And so he escapes as often as he can. He goes to the farthest echoes of the manor, on this tree and lays here, wallowing in the world he builds underneath the shades of the tree.

Seeking solace from the stifling atmosphere, Toji made his escape, slipping away from the confines of the courtyard into the relative sanctuary of the surrounding trees. It was there that he encountered you, the sight of your expensive attire contrasting sharply with the disheveled state of your posture. Your kimono, adorned with the finest silks and threads, hung loosely on your frame, creased and crumpled from your slouched position against the massive tree trunks.

Toji couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the sight. What a waste, he thought, observing the careless disregard with which you treated such exquisite garments. With a resigned sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest, knowing that he couldn't ignore your presence any longer. As much as he longed to bask in the warmth of the sun and enjoy his peaceful afternoon uninterrupted, he understood that he had to address the situation at hand.

As Toji prepared to address you, his words poised on the tip of his tongue, he was taken aback when you suddenly lifted your head, tears streaming down your face. The sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and brimming eyes hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your eyes, wide and doe-like, held a depth of grief that struck a chord within him, stirring a pang of empathy in his heart.

In that moment, all of Toji's intentions to reprimand you dissipated, replaced by a profound sense of compassion. He found himself unable to speak, his lips pursed as he took a hesitant step back, overwhelmed by the raw emotion emanating from you.

As you continued to cry, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at your display of vulnerability in front of a stranger, Zenin Toji felt a surge of discomfort mingled with empathy. He watched as you wiped your tears away with your silk sleeves, your sobs muffled against the fabric, your words lost amidst the tumult of emotions.

Toji's voice broke through the heavy silence, surprisingly gentle as he approached you cautiously. It shocked him too. Not even to little Genmei. So, he supposes he wasn’t accustomed to sounding so gentle, but maybe his body was being courteous for once. "Hey," he began, concern evident in his tone. "Are you alright?"

You sniffled, glancing up at him with tear-stained eyes, your expression a mixture of embarrassment and anguish. "I... I'm sorry," you managed to choke out between sobs, your voice trembling with emotion.

Toji's lips tightened in a line, his initial irritation melting away in the face of your distress. "No need to apologize," he reassured, his voice softening as he crouched down beside you. "I just didn’t expect to find anyone here, that's all. What's wrong? Did you get lost?”

You could only shake your head at him, unable to form coherent words as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you once more. That was not the answer Toji wanted or needed. It seemed like a lie that you did not get lost. But he doesn’t speak just yet. Letting you cry as you do.Pushing would just give him more of a headache. Instead, you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your grief. Toji was at a loss. He’d never had anyone cry to him like this. Not even Genmei. She cries and then hits him profusely, like the little brat she was. He’d never had anyone be this emotional. Not even his mother was this emotional.

Toji hesitated for a moment before tentatively placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's alright," he murmured, offering what little solace he could muster in the midst of your tears. He wasn’t accustomed to comforting anyone. If anything, what little he knew of it came from cousin Naoki. But Zenin Toji felt rather uncomfortable with this explosion of empathy. He wasn’t used to it at all.

He waited patiently, allowing you the space to compose yourself, the sounds of your quiet sobs filling the air around you. The wind blew against your pristine long hair, the edges dancing against its blow. After a moment, you lifted your tiny head, wiping away the last of your tears with a shaky breath. Toji couldn’t help but think it was a pity you were crying. You were really pretty. Not like some of his Zenin cousins. They’re rough, too rough and edged bluntly. Genmei was more like a Mikoto in her beauty, she did not count. You felt like a small beautiful flower, one that needed sheltering. You were out of place here.

"I'm sorry for intruding," you whispered, your voice still raw with emotion, lips trembling. “I’m sorry for causing your annoyance too.”

The raven-haired young man sighed, rubbing the back of his head. You’ve apologized enough for his liking. "It's alright. You're not intruding. If I were here in the Zenin manor too, I would weep tears too.”

You paused, uncertain whether to trust this stranger who stumbled upon your moment of vulnerability. It was wise to be cautious; after all, you knew nothing about this young man. He appeared rough around the edges, far from the picture of gentleness. Yet, despite his outward appearance, there was something in the calmness of his voice and the sincerity of his gaze that put you at ease. He seemed to understand, at least to some extent, the turmoil you were experiencing.

"What's wrong?" Toji's gentle voice pierced the heavy silence once more, his concern evident in his tone. "It's okay if you don't want to share everything."

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "My mother... she hit me," you admitted, your voice trembling under the weight of your confession. Toji regarded you with newfound insight, recognizing the resemblance to Lord Kamo's brother. You must be Kaiko's cousin, the one often seen alongside Genmei. You were one of those Kamo girls he occasionally encountered.

"Just because I sat improperly at the table," you continued, your words laced with sadness and frustration. "She called me a stupid girl and said I'm not at all a proper lady."

The emerald-eyed man's expression darkened at your words, a mixture of sympathy and anger flashing in his eyes. It saddened him deeply to see someone belonging to a prestigious clan endure such treatment. He knew all too well the coldness and cruelty that could lurk within those esteemed families. Having lived through it himself, he harbored a profound hatred for the lack of warmth and empathy that often pervaded such environments.

And as he looked into your eyes, gleaming with bitterness and sadness, he sensed that you shared his disdain for the oppressive traditions of your lineage. You were all just pawns, little toys to the powerful. If the powerful were the oppressive gods, both of you, many of you, were just the mindless little monkeys that they could play around with. And he hated it. He hated it ever so much.

"It's not your fault," Toji asserted firmly, his voice carrying both reassurance and conviction. "You don't deserve to be treated like that. You're not a stupid girl. And you are a proper lady, no matter what anyone says."

You huffed in response, frustration evident in your tone. "You don’t even know me," you retorted.

Toji chuckled softly, his amusement tinged with a hint of bitterness. "No need to know you to recognize the truth. We're both nothing but pawns to our clans. I understand how you feel."

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. "You do?"

Toji nodded solemnly, his gaze distant as if lost in memories of his own struggles. "Yeah, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I've seen enough to know how it goes. The expectations, the pressures... It's suffocating."

As you looked at Toji, a wave of gratitude washed over you, accompanied by a newfound sense of respect for the young man kneeling beside you. Despite the initial wariness you felt towards him, his kindness and understanding had softened your heart. In a world where every interaction seemed transactional, where people often looked out only for themselves and their own interests, encountering someone like Toji was a rare and unexpected blessing.

His rough exterior belied a depth of character that took you by surprise. Beneath the stoic facade lay a compassionate soul, willing to lend a sympathetic ear and offer comfort without judgment. It was a revelation, a reminder that humanity still existed amidst the harsh realities of their world.

For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel quite so alone in your struggles. The simple act of sharing your burdens with Toji, of knowing that someone else understood your pain, lifted a weight off your shoulders. It was a fleeting moment of connection, but in that moment, it felt like you had found a kindred spirit, a companion in the darkness who offered a glimmer of light and hope.

"I'm sorry," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to burden you with my problems."

Toji shifted his sleeves to the side. "Don't worry about it," he said plainly. “It’s nothing.”

As you sniffled softly, a sense of vulnerability washed over you, prompting you to confess your earlier deception to Toji. The admission hung heavy in the air, accompanied by a blush of embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

Toji's response, a hearty laugh that echoed through the tranquil surroundings, caught you off guard. His laughter was infectious, and despite your initial indignation, you couldn't help but find yourself chuckling along with him. It was a moment of unexpected levity amidst the weight of your shared troubles, a brief respite from the seriousness of your conversation.

However, as your laughter subsided and you attempted to regain your composure, Toji's teasing remark caused your blush to deepen once more. His playful jab at your earlier statement about being a lady caught you off guard, and you shot him a playful yet reproachful glare.

"That's not funny," you protested, your tone laced with propriety’s indignation. "Laughing at a lady—"

“I thought you weren’t a lady.”

Toji's mischievous grin widened as he observed your playful indignation, finding amusement in your reaction. He recognized your beauty, undeniable even in the midst of your embarrassment, but there was something more to you that intrigued him. Unlike many of the beauties he had encountered within the prestigious clans, who often seemed devoid of personality or charm, you possessed a spark of vitality and spirit that set you apart.

In that moment, as you exchanged banter beneath the shade of the tree where you had first met, Zenin Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of appreciation for your authenticity. There was a depth to you that went beyond mere appearances, a complexity that intrigued him and drew him in. And as he teases you playfully, he finds himself enjoying the lively exchange. It’s more anyone of those clan ladies can offer him, he thinks.

“But I am a lady!” You insist on him, standing up to face him and stomping your feet. You looked so small to his bigger figure, you looked exactly like a doll. “You ought not to laugh!”

As Toji's laughter subsided, he met your indignant gaze with a calm yet playful demeanor, his emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. Despite your insistence on your ladylike status, he couldn't help but find your defiance endearing, a testament to your spirited nature.

"Toji," he corrected you gently, his tone soft but firm. You blinked in surprise, absorbing the simplicity of his request. "My name is Zenin Toji."

You paused, momentarily taken aback by the informality of his address. It was unusual for someone of his status to discard the formalities associated with his surname. Nevertheless, you nodded in acknowledgment, offering a shy introduction of your own as a member of the Kamo clan.

"N-nice to meet you, Lord Toji—" you began, only to be interrupted by his gentle interjection.

"Just Toji," he reiterated, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. His demeanor was relaxed, devoid of the pretentiousness often associated with those of noble lineage. "The Zenin part doesn't matter."

You felt a warmth spread through you at Toji's casual demeanor, a stark contrast to the rigid formality you were accustomed to within the confines of your own clan. His easy nonchalant nature had put you at ease, allowing you to shed some of the layers of formality that typically accompanied interactions with individuals of higher status. It didn’t feel stifling to stand beside him, to exist beside him like this. Zenin or Kamo, it didn’t matter.

"Alright, Toji," you replied with a shy smile, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue feeling strangely liberating. "It's nice to meet you too."

Toji nodded in response, a snicker appearing on his lips. “Nice to meet you too, little doll.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden hues painting the world in a soft, ethereal light, you were drawn to the serene connection that had blossomed between you and Toji. It was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of your clans' expectations, a tranquil haven where the weight of tradition melted away.

Beneath the comforting shade of the ancient tree where your paths first crossed, you and Toji nurtured a bond that defied the confines of lineage. Here, amidst the whispers of nature, you found solace from the rigidity of societal norms, basking in the freedom to simply exist as yourselves.

You looked at him, as he watched the sun sleep.

For the first time in your life, you had a friend.

And so you smiled, finally ever so genuinely.

YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE HIM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. As time flowed onward, your excursions to the Zenin Manor alongside your cousin Kaiko grew more frequent, granting you ample chances to cross paths with Toji in his customary haven beneath the ancient trees. Though these visits were not formal arrangements, they became a welcomed routine, a quiet understanding between you and your cousin, Kaiko.

When you expressed your desire to reconnect with the friend you had made at the last clan gathering, she embraced the idea with enthusiasm. Without hesitation, she incorporated you into her entourage. None can stop her. There was no other heir to the Kamo. No son can rival her strength and so she was free to do as she wished. In that power, she grants you the freedom to pursue your own interests while she pursues her own amusements, often joining the Zenin heir's child in their playful antics. For that, you were delighted.

As time progressed, your interactions with Toji blossomed from mere pleasantries into meaningful exchanges. You often found him diligently serving the Zenin heir, Lord Naoki, as his trusted aide. Lord Naoki was a figure constantly in motion, overseeing every aspect of the manor's affairs. Once his duties in the field were fulfilled, he would immerse himself in the endless paperwork, particularly those tasks neglected by his father, Lord Naobito. Toji revealed to you that the elder Zenin had little interest in anything beyond his indulgences, leaving the responsibilities to accumulate unchecked until Lord Naoki intervened, assuming his father's duties and restoring order to the estate.

Before his current role, Toji had been relegated to menial tasks among the ranks of the servants, a position considered beneath his station as the son of a former clan leader. It was a stark reminder of the disdain harbored by Lord Naobito's cronies, who deemed Toji unworthy of the Zenin name due to his lack of cursed techniques. Despite his lineage, they saw him as a stain upon the clan's reputation, dubbing him a ‘useless monkey’ in their disparaging remarks. Meanwhile, Lord Naoki was absent from the Zenin manor, accompanying his wife on a journey to Hida to pay respects to her family's lineage.

Upon Lord Naoki's return, his fury knew no bounds. Toji recounted the scene with a mix of awe and trepidation, describing how his cousin's usually composed demeanor had been replaced by a seething rage unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. In a violent display of retribution, Lord Naoki exacted vengeance upon all those who had belittled Toji, leaving them bloodied and broken in his wake. He even dared to confront his own father, defying the authority of the patriarch in defense of his cousin.

Witnessing this ferocious loyalty, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that Toji wasn't alone in his struggles. He had someone in his corner, just as you did with Kaiko. In a world where alliances were crucial and loneliness loomed like a specter, the bond you shared with Toji deepened as you both found solace in each other's company, united by the shared experience of feeling marginalized and underestimated by those around you.

As time passed, your visits to the Zenin Manor became more than just occasional encounters. They evolved into cherished moments of respite from the rigors of clan life, offering you an escape into a world of serene tranquility alongside Toji. The towering trees of the manor's grounds became your sanctuary, a haven where you could seek refuge from the chaos of your respective families.

In these quiet moments, you found solace in the gentle presence of Toji, his silent companionship offering a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by the harsh realities of clan politics. Together, you would while away the hours beneath the shade of the familiar tree, lost in the pages of a book as you read aloud to him. Toji, reclined against the sturdy trunk, would listen intently, his emerald eyes tracing the dance of sunlight filtering through the leaves above.

For Toji, the spoken words held a melody that transcended mere literature. He was never that interested in literature. Not even when his cousin Naoki would insist on him reading the classics—that Toji admits without shame. Yet when he encouraged her to continue reading, he had that tender look in his eyes. Ones that she could never read. They were a symphony of solace for the soul. Words that weave a tapestry of comfort and understanding that enveloped him in a cocoon of peace, at least that's what you hope. He rarely spoke, content to let the beauty of the natural world and the soft cadence of your voice wash over him like a gentle tide.

In the tranquil embrace of Toji's company, you discovered a newfound appreciation for the beauty of silence. In contrast to the rigid expectations of the Kamo clan, where silence was enforced as a virtue and communication often felt stifled, the quiet moments shared with Toji felt liberating. There was no pressure to fill the air with meaningless chatter or conform to the expectations of societal norms. Instead, you found freedom in the gentle cadence of shared silence, where words were unnecessary and understanding transcended verbal communication.

With Toji by your side, the silence became a sanctuary—a space where you could simply be yourself without fear of judgment or scrutiny. It was a welcome reprieve from the cacophony of expectations that surrounded you in the world of the clans, offering a sense of peace and tranquility that was both rare and precious.

As you reveled in the simple pleasure of each other's company, you found solace in the serenity of the natural world around you. The rustle of leaves in the breeze, the gentle hum of insects, and the distant song of birds formed a symphony of tranquility that enveloped you both in its embrace. In those moments, the unspoken understanding that bound you together felt palpable, weaving a tapestry of connection that defied words.

Indeed, there was a time when silence unnerved you, when the enforced quietude of the Kamo clan felt suffocating. But with Toji, silence became not a source of fear, but rather a source of comfort and warmth. It was a silent language shared between kindred spirits, a language that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. And in the presence of Toji, perhaps there was never a need for words to describe the depth of your connection—it was simply understood, felt deeply in the quiet spaces between conversations.

In the quiet moments spent together beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient tree, you discovered subtle ways to bridge the gap between you and Toji. Whether it was through shared moments of silence or simple acts of kindness, you sought to connect with him on a deeper level.

One day, as you noticed the frayed edges and worn fabric of his shirts, a determination stirred within you to mend them. Toji initially protested, insisting there was no need for such fuss. But you persisted, your fingers deftly weaving delicate stitches to mend the fabric with care. Despite his reluctance, Toji eventually relented, allowing you to tend to his clothing with quiet determination.

As the days passed and your visits to the Zenin Manor became more frequent, you couldn't help but notice the state of Toji's shirts. The fabric was worn and frayed, with small tears marring the once pristine garments. Each time you saw him, your heart ached at the sight of his tattered clothing, a stark contrast to the polished appearance expected of those belonging to prestigious clans.

Unable to ignore it any longer, you approached Toji one afternoon as he sat beneath the familiar tree, his shirts displaying signs of wear and tear. "Toji," you began, your voice soft but determined. "Your shirts... they're torn. Let me mend them for you."

Toji glanced down at his shirts, his expression unreadable. "It's fine," he replied dismissively, waving a hand as if to brush off your concern. "I can manage."

But you refused to be deterred, your determination unwavering. "Please, Toji," you insisted, reaching out to gently touch the torn fabric. "Let me help. It's the least I can do."

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Toji finally relented, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. "If you insist," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew you would not budge on it. He’d rather take his losses—and his wins.

With a soft smile, you started to question him about all the things that were broken in each article of clothing he owned. You kept asking him one after the other. He was stingy for money, you didn’t ask why. But being a favorite of his cousin, he would have been handsomely paid. You wonder why he hoards old clothing and wears them consistently. But that didn’t matter. Perhaps those lessons with your nanny finally worked out for you.

For a while, the only sound that filled the air was the quiet rustle of leaves overhead and the soft hum of your needle weaving through the fabric. You both were sat by the tree again — the tree you had both become ever so fond for. It was a peaceful moment, one that allowed both of you to simply exist in each other's presence without the need for words. Having a day out was nice, with the weather being calm and the wind being cool. You had him carry all the things that needed repairing in a basket and marched on to your tree.

As you worked, you stole glances at Toji, studying the lines of his face and the way his brows furrowed in concentration. There was a vulnerability in his demeanor, a rare glimpse beneath the stoic facade he often presented to the world. You think he was intrigued, seeing someone do something for him, without any expectation nor without any exchange. But you think, a Zenin might think that. It was hard to find anyone with genuine intentions here.

Eventually, you finished mending the last of Toji's shirts, the fabric now restored to its former state. With a sense of satisfaction, you held up the garments for him to see, a small smile playing on your lips. You looked so proud, somehow as though this was your best achievement in life. There were stars practically beaming in your eyes.

"There," you said softly, a hint of pride in your voice. "All done."

Toji's gaze softened as he examined the repaired shirts, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice laced with genuine gratitude. "I appreciate it."

You nodded, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. In that moment, beneath the canopy of leaves, you felt a connection deepen between you, bound not just by the threads of fabric you had sewn together, but by the silent understanding and companionship you shared. By the time you had finished this other shirt, you were due to return home with the rest of the Kamo retinue. You promised to come back and finish them as the days passed.

That you did. With a small smile, the days continued and you would not say a word. You would gather the necessary supplies and set to work at any new little article of cloth that needed mending. Toji would watch as your nimble fingers carefully stitched one of the torn fabric back together. He would tell you to be mindful not to hurt yourself, to be slow and think about your hands. Each reminder is softer than the next, mellower than before. You could not help but feel your cheeks warm at each reminder. He was such a huge man, one that frightened even those who looked down upon him. Yet he was so gentle, so wonderful.

As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you were able to offer Toji a small gesture of kindness in return for the quiet companionship he had provided you. You worked hard because you think he deserved to have someone care for him. You stole glances at Toji's stoic expression, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor as he watched you mend his shirts. Though he remained ever so silent, stoic as a statue, you sensed a silent appreciation in his gaze—a recognition of the care and effort you poured into each stitch.

When you presented him with the final fixings, Toji accepted them with a nod of gratitude each and every time, his expression softening ever so slightly. From that day forward, he wore the shirts you had mended with unwavering dedication, despite their outdated appearance or the judgmental gazes of others.

Toji understood the significance of your efforts, recognizing the depth of your kindness and devotion in each carefully stitched seam. And in his silent acceptance, you found a connection that transcended words—a silent understanding that bound you together in quiet companionship. And that perhaps is all that mattered to you.

In the tranquil embrace of the natural world, enveloped by the gentle symphony of rustling leaves and distant bird calls, you and Toji discovered a sanctuary away from the tumultuous demands of your respective clans. Beneath the canopy of green above, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor each precious moment spent in Toji's company.

With each passing day, your bond with Toji deepened, weaving together threads of understanding and mutual respect into the fabric of your relationship. In his presence, the burdens of duty and expectation that once weighed heavily upon your shoulders dissolved, leaving behind a sense of liberation and lightness.

Every shared glance, every soft smile exchanged between you carried with it a silent promise of companionship and support, a reminder that you were not alone in navigating the complexities of your world. You found solace in the simple joy of being together, of basking in the warmth of his presence and the quiet strength that emanated from him.

As you lay side by side beneath the verdant canopy, watching the shifting patterns of light dance across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. With Toji by your side, the world felt like a place worth living in, filled with endless possibilities and untold adventures waiting to be discovered.

And as you gazed upon him, his eyes closed in serene contentment, you felt a swell of affection and admiration in your heart. In that fleeting moment, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be than here, with Toji, sharing in the quiet splendor of nature's embrace.

The serene melody of birdsong filled the air, a symphony of nature's chorus that seemed to resonate deep within your soul. Nestled side by side beneath the expansive canopy of the ancient tree, you and Toji found yourselves enveloped in a tranquil oasis, far removed from the bustle and chaos of the world beyond.

The soft blades of grass beneath your backs provided a gentle cushion against the earth, inviting you to surrender to the soothing embrace of nature's embrace. Above, the vast expanse of the sky stretched out like an endless tapestry, its azure hues mingling with the ethereal wisps of cotton-white clouds that drifted lazily across the heavens.

In this idyllic sanctuary, time seemed to stand still, allowing you and Toji to bask in the timeless beauty of the natural world around you. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant murmur of a nearby stream, and the distant calls of unseen creatures all combined to create a sense of serenity that washed over you like a gentle tide.

As you lay together beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient tree, the worries and cares of the world melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and contentment. Here, amidst the harmonious symphony of nature, you found solace in each other's company, sharing in the quiet beauty of the world around you.

Lost in the tranquility of the moment, you turned to Toji, a curious glint in your eyes. "Toji, what's your dream?" you asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that surrounded you.

Toji's brow furrowed slightly at your question, his gaze fixed on the expanse of sky above. "Why do you ask?" he inquired, his voice quiet but thoughtful.

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Just curious, I suppose," you replied. "Everyone has dreams, don't they?"

After a moment of contemplation, The green eyed young man turned his gaze back to you, his expression thoughtful. Slowly, he raised a hand to gesture towards the vast expanse above. As though he was trying to reach for the sky, for the birds that fly ever so freely above the wide blue deep.

"I suppose... I'd like to feel what freedom actually feels like," he confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "To live, to breathe, to love without constraints."

With a gaze that conveyed both comprehension and compassion, you regarded Toji, sensing a kindred spirit in his yearning for freedom from the burdens of obligation and societal norms. It was a recognition born from your own experiences, from the weight of expectations placed upon you by your respective clans, and the longing to break free from those constraints.

In Toji's eyes, you saw the echo of your own desires, mirrored in the depths of his gaze. The shared understanding between you transcended mere words, an unspoken bond forged through the silent acknowledgment of each other's struggles and aspirations.

Together, you existed in a realm where the burdens of tradition and duty held no sway, where the pursuit of personal freedom and fulfillment took precedence over the demands of society. It was a sanctuary you had created together, a space where you could share your dreams and aspirations without fear of judgment or reproach.

"And what about you?" Toji asked, his gaze searching for yours. "What's your dream?"

A wide smile spread across your face as you met his gaze. "Funny you should ask," you replied, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Because I think we have the same dream."

Toji's lips quivered upwards in a rare display of warmth, a genuine smile gracing his features. "Is that so?" he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You nodded, your smile widening. "Yes," you affirmed. "And I hope we can make it together."

A softness settled over the two of you, the weight of unspoken hopes and shared aspirations binding you together in silent understanding. "Me too," Toji murmured, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the promise of freedom beckoned on the gentle breeze.

The way he looked at you, it burned you.

And as you smiled, you know he felt it too.

You wonder if it was safe to say those words.

‘Ah, is this what it is? Is this what love feels like?’

HE STILL THINKS ABOUT YOU OFTEN, MORE THAN HE’D LIKE. In the quiet solitude of his drunken reverie, Toji's mind often drifted back to the memories of you, like delicate petals carried on a gentle breeze. It wasn't just nostalgia that drew him back to those moments; it was the profound impact you had made on his life, an indelible mark etched upon his heart.

He remembered the way you would smile at him, your eyes alight with warmth and affection, as you made your way to that sacred tree—the tree that had become a symbol of your shared bond. In your presence, Toji felt a sense of peace and acceptance that he had never known before, a feeling that he longed to hold onto with every fiber of his being.

Your touch was like a balm to his wounded soul, soft and comforting, as though you could heal the scars of his past with just a simple caress. In your embrace, he found solace from the storms raging within him, a refuge from the harsh realities of the world outside.

And when your lips met his, it was as though time itself stood still, suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. In those stolen moments of passion, Toji felt a connection so profound, so intense, that it transcended the boundaries of time and space.

But as the years slipped by, like grains of sand through an hourglass, Toji found himself haunted by the memories of what could have been, the dreams that had been shattered by the cruel hand of fate. He mourned the loss of the future he had envisioned with you, the life that had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

Yet even in his darkest moments, amid the haze of alcohol and regret, there remained a glimmer of hope—a hope that one day, he might find a way to reclaim the love that had been lost, to build a future with you that defied the constraints of time and circumstance.

And so, with each passing day, Toji carried the weight of his memories like a burden, a constant reminder of the love that had once burned brightly between you, and the promise of a future that still remained within reach, if only he dared to reach out and grasp it.

But despite his yearning for what once was, Toji found himself trapped in a cycle of self-destructive behavior, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and reckless pursuits. He sought solace in the fleeting distractions of the world, hoping to numb the pain that gnawed at his heart like a relentless beast.

Yet amidst the chaos of his existence, there remained a flicker of the man he once was—a man who had loved deeply and dreamed of a future filled with happiness and purpose. It was this spark of humanity that kept him tethered to the memories of you, reminding him of the love he had lost and the person he had once been.

In his darkest moments, when the weight of his regrets threatened to crush him, Toji would close his eyes and summon forth the image of your smile, the warmth of your touch, and the sound of your laughter echoing like a melody in his mind. It was these memories that kept him going, fueling his determination to someday find his way back to you, no matter the cost.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Toji's hope began to wane, replaced by a bitter resignation to the cruel twists of fate that had torn you apart. He cursed himself for his weakness, for his inability to protect you from the fate that had befallen you, and for the pain he knew you must be enduring without him by your side.

In the quiet depths of his thoughts, Fushiguro Toji often finds himself contemplating the bittersweet truth of your relationship. To him, you were like the sun—bright, radiant, and unattainable. And he? He was but a mere moon, destined to orbit around you, never truly belonging to your world. Yet, despite the inevitable distance that separated you, his love for you burns steadfastly, unwavering in its intensity.

When he made the decision to depart from the Zenin clan, he understood that it meant leaving behind any chance of ever crossing paths with you again. Still, the memory of you lingers like a haunting melody, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Though you may never belong to each other, he carries you in his heart, a cherished remnant of a love that was never meant to be.

Toji's heart shattered into a million pieces when he had to leave you behind. And now you were forced to be engaged to his brother. You cried for help, you did. That’s what everyone said. You called for him and asked someone to look for him. It was a betrayal of the highest order, one that threatened to tear apart everything he had ever hoped for. The thought of you being wed to his older brother, Jinichi, filled him with a rage unlike any he had ever known.

For years, he had harbored dreams of returning to the Zenin clan, of freeing you from the suffocating grasp of your lineage with Naoki's help. Naoki had the ear of all clans. He could make something happen. But now, those dreams lay shattered at his feet, crushed beneath the weight of cruel reality. The mere thought of you being subjected to a marriage of convenience, forced to spend your days with a man who could never appreciate the gentle soul that you were, filled Toji with an overwhelming sense of despair and helplessness.

Driven by a blind fury, he had once entertained thoughts of storming into the Zenin manor, of whisking you away from your fate by force if necessary. You were alone, there was nothing left for you in the Kamo clan. How long can your cousin protect you from what the clans expect of young women like you? He couldn’t take it. He wanted to leave. Storm back there. But Naoki, ever the voice of reason, had intervened, urging Toji to reconsider his reckless actions. He told him to wait, that he had a plan. That it will all work out.

And so he let himself wait and wait.

Drink after drink, to let his anxiety hurl.

Yet not everything does work out.

No matter how drunk he got at each round;

He would never end up finding you in this life.

Zenin Naoki found his younger cousin Toji in the dimly lit room, his figure slumped over the rough wooden table, an empty bottle of sake clutched tightly in his hand. He could see the anguish etched into Toji's features, the lines of pain and sorrow etched deep into his brow. He was too drunk, Naoki knew. But the moment he would speak those words, he knew that his cousin would be wholeheartedly sober. He didn’t have the heart to say it.

Naoki’s weary palms sharply echoed into fists. He takes the steps toward his little cousin. Naoki lets one fist unclench and open, grabbing an empty chair for himself and taking to sitting. His lips pursed as he moved closer towards his cousin’s bed. His eyes waver, as though giving away all that he was about to say.

"Toji," Naoki began cautiously, his voice soft but firm. "There's something you need to know."

Toji's bloodshot eyes lifted to meet Naoki's gaze, filled with a mixture of desperation and despair. "What is it?" he asked hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

Naoki hesitated, knowing that his words would only add to Toji's suffering. "It's about her," he began, his voice heavy with regret. "Your Kamo flower."

Toji's grip on the bottle tightened, his knuckles turning white with the force of his emotions. "What about her?" he demanded, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Naoki took a deep breath, steeling himself for Toji's reaction. "She's... she's married," he confessed, his words hanging heavy in the air like a death knell.

The color drained from Toji's face, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "Married?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "To who? I thought the engagement would be broken—"

"To your brother, Jinichi," Naoki replied, his heart heavy with guilt. "It was rushed. Father wanted to strengthen the alliance between our clans. The Gojo clan….had gotten strong recently. As soon as I arrived, it was different. They bypassed me. The marriage already took place."

Toji's world shattered in an instant, the pain of betrayal and loss consuming him like a raging inferno. He felt as if the ground had been ripped out from beneath him, leaving him to plummet into an endless abyss of despair.

But deep down, Toji knew the truth of Naoki's words, and it tore him apart like nothing else ever could. He just couldn’t register how no one could let her free. How no one could help her. Genmei, her cousin Kaiko, his cousin Naoki. There were so many people there. How could none of them have been able to do anything? In that moment, he felt as if he had lost everything—the woman he loved, his dreams of a future together, and the very essence of his being.

"I don't believe you," Toji spat, his voice laced with venom. "She would never agree to such a thing. She loves me, she always has. She would never....."

"Not in her own will." Naoki agreed quietly, leaning back exhaustedly. "But now she has no choice. Once it is done, it is done."

As the reality of his situation sank in, Toji's mind began to unravel, consumed by a maelstrom of rage and despair. He cursed the gods for their cruelty, cursed himself for his weakness, and cursed the world for its injustice. And in that dark, lonely room, Toji wept for the love he had lost, for the dreams that lay shattered at his feet, and for the woman who had stolen his heart and left him to suffer in silence.

‘You can't risk your life like this. Please, Toji,’ Naoki had pleaded, his words echoing with a painful truth that Toji was unwilling to accept. When he cried, when he beat Naoki down, when Naoki didn’t fight back. All he could hear was those words over and over. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Little cousin, I am sorry."

In the end, he saw the wedding photos. That bastard Jinichi had sent them all clans, including the Mikoto — to announce the marriage far and wide. You were miserable beside his brother. Jinichi stood over you, as though he now owned you. As though you were his to tarnish, to harm, to brutalize. Toji’s blood boiled over and over. He screamed over and over. He threw beer bottles over and over. In the end, all Toji had left was his tears, swallowing his own grief over and over. He let himself drown his sorrows in a sea of alcohol and vice.

He couldn’t stop. The bitterness of his betrayal festered within him, consuming him from the inside out. But not at you. Never at you. At everything, at everyone. Toji was angry, for a long long time. All he could think about was how you suffered all these years. And how he could do nothing. He had absolutely nothing.

Each day was a struggle, each night haunted by visions of you suffering at the hands of a man who could never hope to understand the depths of your gentle spirit. Toji's anger burned like a raging inferno, fueled by the injustice of it all.

But deep down, beneath the layers of resentment and despair, there lingered a flicker of hope—a hope that one day, he might find a way to free you from the shackles of your unwanted marriage, to offer you the tenderness and love that you so rightfully deserved. Until then, he would carry the weight of his failure like a heavy burden, a constant reminder of the cruel twists of fate that had torn you apart.

“You know, I always wanted to have my own family.” You whisper to him out of the blue, the corner of your eyes looking at him. He looks at you with a curious gaze, a grin on his face.

“Oh? A big family?”

You shake your head. “No, I have enough siblings as it is. One, two at most.”

“Hm, a boy or a girl?”

You smiled at him tenderly, your hand brushing against the edges of his lower head, your fingertips meeting the dark raven hair over and over. “It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.”

“Hm, but if you have to choose?”

“A girl would be nice as the eldest.” You tell him softly. “A warm elder sister to welcome her little sibling to the world would be most tender.”

Toji's gaze softened as he listened to your words, a faint smile gracing his lips at the notion of starting a family. "I want that too," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "A family of my own, someday."

Your heart swelled with warmth at his confession, knowing that you shared this cherished dream. "I've always dreamed of having a family," you confessed, your voice filled with quiet longing.

Curiosity sparkled in Toji's eyes as he turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwined with yours. "If you had a child, what would you name the girl, if you had her?" he asked softly.

Without hesitation, you smiled and replied, "Tsumiki." As you spoke, you traced the characters for each letter onto the palm of his hand, the strokes delicate and deliberate. "It means 'haven of beautiful chronicles'.”

Toji's eyes met yours, his expression reflecting a mix of awe and tenderness. "It's a beautiful name," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the characters etched into his skin. "For a beautiful future."

Toji's words stirred a tender warmth within you, melting your heart away to be his. His vulnerability echoed your own desires, creating a connection that transcended the boundaries of words. As he expressed his longing for a family, you couldn't help but feel a deep resonance within your heart, a shared dream that bound you together on purpose.

Toji's reaction was one of gentle reverence, his thumb brushing over the characters etched into his skin with a touch of awe. As you traced the characters onto his palm, you infused each stroke with the depth of your love and hope for the future.

In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own dreams, a shared vision of a future filled with love, warmth, and possibility. And as he spoke of the beauty of the name you had chosen, you felt a sense of gratitude wash over you, knowing that in each other's company, the seeds of a beautiful future had already been planted.

“I see the regular life everyone has, though.” Toji whispers to you as he moved closer to you, his arms on your waist. “I see swimming pools, living rooms. Those little airplanes, the toy ones.”

You giggle against him. “The little house on the hills? Just enough for us. Walls with children’s names, their height.”

Toji hummed at you, placing a small kiss upon your head. “Quiet nights with those ice and those booze, when its just.”

“Yeah,” You say to him, meeting his eyes. “I want that.”

“With me?”

You smiled widely, nodding. “Yes, with you.”

As the tender moment lingered, a soft breeze stirred the leaves above, casting dancing shadows over your intertwined figures. The air was charged with an electric anticipation, the warmth of Toji's presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

With a gentle lean, Toji closed the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and trust, a silent affirmation of the deep connection that had blossomed between you.

As he pressed his body against yours, you felt the weight of his presence grounding you in the present moment. His touch was both gentle and passionate, igniting a fire within you that burned with the intensity of shared desire and longing.

And as you surrendered to the sweetness of the moment, you knew that in Toji's arms, you had found your sanctuary, your haven of beautiful chronicles, where love knew no bounds and dreams were born anew with each tender caress.

In the end, these memories wilted little by little.

But he couldn’t let his brain forget who you were.

He never allowed himself to let your smile die out.

You were his drug, one that kept him moving forward.

A gun on his head, your smile on his mind, he pauses.

Tears poured over and over, like it was the first time again.

IT WAS ALL TOO EARLY FOR THIS. Fushiguro Toji, now a widower after losing his wife just a year ago, was caught off guard by the unexpected knock on his door. Opening it, he found Kamo Kaiko standing there in her sorcerer uniform, hand in hand with a little girl who appeared to be about three years old. The girl wasn't very tall, her brown hair tied in a ponytail, her eyes bright amber-brown. She had an innocence about her, like a little doe, yet there was a warmth in her gaze that seemed to suggest a familiarity beyond their meeting.

Despite his initial surprise, Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the sight of the smiling girl. There was something about her demeanor that put him at ease, as though she already knew him, as though they shared some unspoken connection..

“It’s been a while, Toji.” Kamo Kaiko says to him, a wave of her hand and a charismatic smile. She hadn’t changed. He wonders if that smile of hers will ever be genuine.

“What are you doing here?” He says roughly, his body resting against the door frame. “Who knows you’re here?”

“No one.” She tells him, her eyes narrowing confidently at him. “You ought to believe me. I’m good at covering my tracks.”

Toji felt exasperated by her words, as much as this early morning has. He rubs his eyes. He opens the door wide. “Come in.”

“Thank you very much~” Kaiko says as she comes in, taking off her shoes. “Mimi, say the same thing!”

The young girl let out a sound, as though she had forgotten. The girl bows politely and smiles at Toji warmly. “Thank you for letting us in!”

“Come, Mimi! Here’s the tiny indoor shoes for you~”

“Thank you, Kaiko-san!”

Toji thinks he should have not opened the door.

Toji's apartment was in disarray, a tangible reflection of the turmoil that had engulfed his life since his wife's passing. Clutter littered the floor, and the air felt heavy with the weight of grief and solitude. However, Kaiko didn't utter a word of reproach or judgment. She knew all too well the challenges of single parenthood, having navigated them herself in the past.

The young girl, full of curiosity and innocence, caught sight of Toji's son nestled in his crib and couldn't contain her excitement. With wide eyes brimming with curiosity, she asked if she could see the baby. Kaiko's smile softened, and she nodded warmly, reminding the little girl to be gentle and careful with the fragile infant. Toji didn’t mind. It was better that someone was looking after Megumi, even for a little while. He’s absolutely exhausted.

As the children played, Kaiko and Toji settled down to talk, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air. Kaiko offered her condolences on his wife's passing, but Toji's impatience cut through the pleasantries like a sharp blade. "Cut to the chase," he demanded, his tone curt and brusque.

Kaiko's expression turned somber as she delivered the heartbreaking news. "I came to tell you... she's gone," she uttered softly, her voice laced with sorrow. "You lost her at childbirth."

Toji's face contorted with a sudden wave of anguish. His mouth went dry as he anticipated the words he dreaded to hear, yet yearned to know for certain. "Who?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You know who," Kaiko replied gently, her gaze unwavering.

"I know," Toji acknowledged, his eyes trembling with emotion as he stared at Kaiko. Despite knowing the answer, he still needed her to say it aloud, as if hearing the confirmation would somehow make the pain more real.

Kaiko's lips tightened as she observed the man before her, grappling with his own torment. She knew that this news would shatter him, just as it had shattered her. With a heavy heart, she spoke your name, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a dense fog.

"It was... a bad situation," Kaiko continued, her voice laced with sorrow. "There were numerous stillbirths and miscarriages. This last one—"

"And none of you stopped him?" Toji's voice cracked with a mixture of anger, anguish, and disbelief. The news of Megumi's mother's death had devastated him, but the thought of you suffering and ultimately losing your life in such a tragic manner ignited a firestorm of emotions within him. His hands slammed down on the table with a force that reverberated throughout the apartment, his eyes narrowed with fury as he confronted Kaiko. "None of you had the courage to intervene? To protect her? You let her die. You let her die at the hands of that monster?"

As Toji's anguished cries filled the air, baby Megumi's response was almost immediate. His tiny wails rose in crescendo, mingling with his father's tumultuous emotions, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to echo off the walls of the apartment. Toji's heart clenched at the sound, each cry a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the weight of his loss.

But just as despair threatened to consume him, a figure emerged from the shadows, a ray of hope amidst the darkness. The young girl with doe-like eyes approached with a serene smile, her presence a comforting presence amidst the chaos. With delicate hands, she reached out for baby Megumi, enfolding him in her arms with a tender embrace that seemed to soothe his cries.

"It's okay," she whispered softly, her voice a gentle lullaby that seemed to resonate with the infant's distress. In her arms, Megumi found solace, his sobs gradually subsiding as he nestled against her, finding refuge in her comforting embrace.

Toji's tumultuous emotions seemed to subside, if only for a moment, as he witnessed the touching scene unfolding before him. The sight of the young girl cradling his son and humming a gentle melody cast a tranquil spell over the room, momentarily quelling the storm raging within him. He found himself entranced by her soothing presence, his troubled thoughts momentarily quieted by the tender moment.

As he watched the girl, a flicker of recognition sparked in Toji's eyes, a distant memory stirring within him like a long-forgotten dream. It was as if he could see glimpses of you in her, the way you used to comfort him with your gentle touch and calming voice. His hands trembled with emotion as he turned to face Kaiko, his heart heavy with the weight of grief and regret.

Kaiko met his gaze with a sorrowful expression, her eyes filled with remorse and longing. "I'm sorry, Toji," she murmured softly, her voice laced with emotion. "I couldn't save her from her fate. I couldn't save you from this pain."

Toji's heart tightened at Kaiko's words, the weight of her apology settling heavily upon him. Despite the sorrow in her voice, there was a hint of resolve, a determination to honor a promise made long ago. "But I wanted to keep a promise," she confessed, her gaze drifting towards the young girl who now cradled Megumi in her arms. "At least one more."

Toji's eyes followed Kaiko's gaze, settling on the girl whose presence seemed to bring a measure of solace to the room. A question lingered on his lips as he turned back to Kaiko, his voice barely a whisper. "What's her name?" he inquired softly, his heart heavy with a mixture of curiosity and longing.

A sad smile graced Kaiko's lips as she met Toji's gaze. "Her name is Tsumiki," she revealed gently, her voice tinged with emotion as she spoke the name that carried both sorrow and hope. “Just as she always wanted.”

Toji's heart ached with a mixture of sorrow and gratitude as he gazed at Tsumiki, his tears mingling with Kaiko's. The realization that Tsumiki was the living embodiment of his lost love washed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him feeling both overwhelmed and strangely comforted.

Kaiko's words pierced through the haze of his grief, her voice gentle but firm. "They don't know that she's alive, Tsumiki," she explained, her own tears betraying the depth of her sorrow. "Genmei arranged it all. They wouldn't look for her now."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, leaving Toji grappling with a torrent of emotions. "Why?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "Why are you...?"

Kaiko met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "This is what my cousin would have wanted," she replied softly. "You were the only person that truly did love her. Tsumiki would be safer here. She would be loved and..."

Toji's voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on Tsumiki's innocent face as he wiped away his tears. "I didn't notice," he murmured, his words tinged with regret. "How much she looked like her mother."

"Spitting image of her," Kaiko agreed in a bittersweet tone, her gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and fondness.

Toji's fingertips grazed Tsumiki's silky hair, the soft strands a poignant reminder of the gentle touch he had once known. As he watched her tender care for his son, a bittersweet ache tugged at his heartstrings, stirring memories of you and the warmth you had always exuded.

In Tsumiki's innocent gestures, Toji glimpsed echoes of your compassionate spirit, a fleeting reflection of the love and kindness you had bestowed upon him. The sight filled him with a mixture of longing and gratitude, a silent tribute to the precious moments he had shared with you.

Struggling to articulate the depth of his emotions, Toji's voice quivered with unspoken sorrow as he whispered his thanks to Tsumiki. His words hung heavy in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort her presence brought amidst the tumult of his grief.

As Tsumiki cradled his son with unwavering tenderness, Toji felt a flicker of hope stir within his heart. In her gentle embrace, he found solace and strength, a beacon of light illuminating the darkness of his sorrow and reminding him of the enduring power of love.

For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.

He felt alive having known that he has you.

You were always with him, you always loved him.

Years later, Gojo Satoru stood before him, watching.

He could only smile, feeling the chasing sunset.

Two fools would be together again, after all this time.

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wolfcha1k · 19 days

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NOT MY ART, I ONLY PAID FOR IT, PLEASE CHECK OUT LILY.B_ART ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE OF HER WORK!

Something strange boomed and rumbled overhead, Zenith reclining his head up to gawk inquisitively up at the clouds above. Stray splotches of sunlight fought to push past the overcast sky, golden as starlight.

“The sky speaks?” Zenith asked Asha, glancing towards the princess with eyes bright in curiosity.

She looked up heavenwards before meeting his gaze. “In a way, I guess.” Asha quirked the corners of her lips in a small smile. "It's called thunder, it usually means rain is coming, Zenith.”

“Rain?” He echoed. Zenith stopped walking to continuously gaze up at the sky, intrigued. He heard Asha’s steps and felt her presence as she got close to him.

“Yes, and we better hurry up and find somewhere to bunker down to wait out the storm. Rain isn't really fun to get stuck in,” Asha explained as she grabbed onto his arm, leading him down the trail they were taking through the open field.

He caught Asha's eyes looking towards the cusp of trees in the distance that would offer shelter. “What's so bad about it?”

“Well, it's wet, for one,” Asha told him, lifting a finger from her free hand to start counting the ways. “It makes you get muddy, there's lightning and then there's the wind.” Zenith was charmed by the adorable scrunching of Asha's face as she thought deeply, clearly very passionate about the topic. “Oh! And you can catch a chill.”

“I see,” Zenith replied, smiling at her. He took another moment to admire the sky, listening to the purr of the thunder and drinking in the way the sunbeams shimmered.

As if the world felt ironic and had heard Asha’s complaints, and considering the heavens were full of omnipresence from the Starfolk themselves, it was a plausibility, a big fat droplet smacked Asha’s nose. Zenith stared at her in wide eyed wonder.

“Oh no!” Asha exclaimed for not a moment longer did more begin to fall from the sky and Asha feebly raised her arms over her head. “It's here!”

Zenith raised his face to the sky, gawking at it in bewildering awe. He felt his skin and clothes dampen as each droplet struck down on himself. “The sky cries too?”

“That, Zenith, is what we call rain,” she told him with a sigh.

“Fascinating…” Zenith reached a hand out, feeling the rain fall into his open palm. He flexed his fingers, experimenting with the feeling of water on his being. The large fringe of his hair drooped over his forehead, his braid swaying in the storm's wind.

He breathed in the cool air, chest expanding as his lungs took it in. The mist tickled his nose and he found himself smiling widely at the strange and alien sensations this earthly form bestowed him.

Zenith lifted both his hands, channeling magic as it rippled through him. He felt Asha’s eyes on him and he chanced her a brief, glowing smile before looking back up at the raining sky. He caught the droplets in his magical grasp, levitating them above his palms. He lifted them higher yet, floating overhead.

Asha’s palm was warm on his back. “Zenith, we better—”

He turned to look at her, grinning brightly at her. “Your world is beautiful, Asha.”

She was quiet for a moment, watching him fiddle and play with the rain. Her expression softened and soon she smiled too. “Yeah, I guess you're right about that.” Her braids swished as she looked up at the sky and Zenith's breath caught at the halo of light that surrounded her, misty and ethereal as stardust from the sun. “It's quite a sight, isn't it?”

“Yeah…” He murmured softly, a fondness rushing over him like the rain as it fell. Zenith willed himself a moment longer before returning his violet gaze towards the sky.

Thunder roared in his ears and he wasn't sure if it was from the storm or his heart pounding hard in his chest…

🌠 🌠 🌠 🌠

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This is a future scene for Star Light, Star Bright though final version could change possibly since it's super far away chapter wise. Follow the fanfic on Ao3 for future updates because they are coming eventually, me and my co writer just been busy is all lately though we are drafting the project actively still 👍 Also, Zenith totally sounds like Christian Bale's Howl in my head when I write him.

#Wish #wish rewrite #asha x star #star x asha #Star light star bright au #Star light star bright #Not my art #My oc #Instagram

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wordbunch · 1 year

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Elrond getting jealous

a/n: whoever requested something among the lines of “Elrond getting jealous over reader who spends time with Halbrand”... i’m sending you a thousand kisses. 💋 I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and do let me know! 🥰 also please consider reblogging if you liked it, it means a lot 💖💖💖

(+ warning: if you squint, it gets the tiniest bit steamy at the very end!)

you were in Eregion with Elrond and very happy about the fact that you get to spend that extra time with your lover

sure, you were both busy, but just being able to see each other, fall asleep and wake up together daily was something you cherished amid the daily chaos

you settled into a nice routine, which got interrupted in a very surprising way: Galadriel came back, after having gone to the Undying Lands (or, well, not actually going), and she brought a strange man with her

he seemed to be badly injured, and it made you wonder how come a man had managed to endure a few days long journey with an injury like that, but you let it go

however he did intrigue you a little bit, since you very rarely came in contact with humans, and there was a strange energy about him

Galadriel herself actually asked you to check up on him every now and then because she trusts you, so you fulfilled her request and gradually started talking a bit to Halbrand

purely out of curiosity, you wouldn’t dream of going behind Elrond’s back in any way

however, the elf misunderstood your interest for affection

one evening you just walked by the room that Halbrand was in and cast a quick glance to check whether he was alive (seemed like he was), and you were planning to join Elrond for a relaxing evening in bed, but you ran into an old friend of yours and ended up talking for a little longer than intended

all the while, Elrond was in your shared bedroom and his mind was swarming with concerns about why you still hadn’t joined him

he trusts you with all his heart, don’t ever doubt that, but he was certainly feeling iffy about the human newcomer and he wasn’t sure he particularly liked him, he just wasn’t able to pinpoint why

when you finally walked in, feeling extremely bad at losing track of time, your heart cracked a bit when you saw your beloved lying down, curled up with his back turned towards you; he was debating whether to confront you about it because he HATED any type of conflict with you

you almost gasped when you heard a quiet, yet unmistakably bitter “your new human friend seems to be occupying an awful lot of your time lately”

you all but threw yourself on the bed next to Elrond and grabbed both his hands in yours, but you noticed instantaneously that he didn’t intertwine your fingers together, which he almost always did

“He is not my friend” you replied with determination, but Elrond remained silent

“and I am terribly sorry for making you wait tonight, my love. I ran into Nimel on my way to you and they got so carried away talking about how they journeyed to Lórien recently and I had not the heart to interrupt…”

you thought you saw a tiny smile curving on your lover’s lips: he knew you were too kind to rudely interrupt somebody who was just being sociable

“now wait just a moment… my evening star, are you jealous?” you held back a smile of your own

Elrond was rarely jealous, so you weren’t used to seeing that side of him

“I do not have the faintest idea why you might think so, darling”

okay, he tried to play it off but he absolutely failed

“you know i can see it in your eyes when you are being dishonest”

he sighed deeply, and eventually entwined his fingers with yours, pressed a kiss to your knuckles and finally held your gaze

“perhaps I was jealous… just very, very little” the elf admitted sheepishly, feeling the tips of his ears get warmer

now you were hovering over him, finding amusement in the situation, rather than getting upset

“whatever for?” you purred, leaning closer into his face and brushing your nose against his, his greyish-blue eyes almost fluttering closed at the sensation

“you are the most perfect partner and lover in all of Middle-earth, my beloved,” your voice dropped low as you brought your lips closer to his, almost to brush against them. almost.

“not even in my wildest dreams would I think of choosing another over you. especially not some odd little man,” you chuckled, the noise resonating within your chest which was now pressed flush against Elrond’s

his hands had found their way to your hips, holding onto you as if you were about to vanish (you most definitely were not) and he expertly maneuvered the two of you so that now he was the one hovering above you and your cheeks were heating up at an alarming rate as you looked up at him with sparkling eyes

and there was a glint of mischief in his

he kissed you hungrily and you instinctively entangled your fingers in his soft hair, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest; he had your arms pinned on the bed with one hand, and his other hand was trailing down your torso

when you, sadly, had to pull back for air, his lips traveled down to your neck, and between open-mouthed kisses he muttered “then let us make sure that i am the most perfect lover you could ask for, dearest

✨ everything/TROP taglist: @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @lazymeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @averys-place @valkyriepirate @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese

#elrond x reader #elrond headcanons #elrond imagine #trop fanfiction #trop fanfic #the rings of power imagine #the rings of power x reader #Trop x reader #rings of power imagine #rings of power headcanons #rop imagine #trop headcanons #from my pocketses

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8iunie · 2 years

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Måneskin meeting "BEASTARS" author, Paru Itagaki in Tokyo, Japan [X X] (posted on 29.09.2022)

Miracle is here: BEASTARS (author: Paru Itagaki; a series in Weekly Shonen Champion magazine), a popular comic series that has sold over 10 million copies around the world and received an anime adaptation, joins forces with Måneskin, a new-generation rock band that has made an international breakthrough from Italy! Commemorating the band’s first visit to Japan, Paru Itagaki created a special artwork where the characters from BEASTARS get together with the members of Måneskin.

The members of Måneskin are deeply interested in Japanese culture; especially singer Damiano David, who is known as an avid Japanese anime fan. He says that since the outbreak of the pandemic, there has been a time he was watching anime all year long. And one of his favorites was BEASTARS, a unique story of anthropomorphic animals unfolding complex suspense and human drama.

Måneskin met Itagaki for the first time backstage at the band’s first concert in Japan and checked out the rough sketch she brought, which was already in a high-quality finished form that amazed and surprised them. This footage shows their first yet friendly meeting.

Damiano of Måneskin tells his thoughts on this collaboration with BEASTARS:

“It’s such an honor to be a little part of the world of BEASTARS, one of my top favorites. The characters are animals, but they are even more humans than us and the worldview they create… the idea of coming up with this worldview is really amazing. When I watch it, I actually forget that they are animals; there are so many things relatable as humans. I think it’s one of the deepest in terms of meaning and structure in the anime I have seen; it’s really meaningful and emotional.”

“I am looking forward to the collaboration with Måneskin. As the author, I had a very precious experience of meeting the four members in person; they were very tall, kind, dazzling…they were stars. Although we are usually at difference places, Måneskin on stage and myself at the desk, I feel very much honored to be in the same room thanks to the collaboration. Thank you very much!”

[Måneskin: Profile]

Hailing from Rome, Italy, Måneskin (meaning “moonlight” in Danish), the Gen-Z four-piece band of Damiano David (vocal), Victoria De Angelis (bass), Thomas Raggi (guitar), and Ethan Torchio (drums), catapulted to global breakthrough after winning “Eurovision Song Contest 2021”, the biggest music competition in the continent.

The fusion of diverse elements such as rock ‘n’ roll, rap, reggae, and funk to name a few, the irresistible live performance that enthuses the world, and the intriguing and sensational messages the convey… Their momentum just does not seem to show a sign of slowing down. In times where no new rock icon is in sight, they are signaling the revival of rock music and continue to intensify its force on a global level, which is something to keep your eyes on!

#måneskin #maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #my posts 💫#video #art #interview #japan: tokyo #vic doing that face #mr. torchio + bun #må smiling 😁#itagaki paru #beastars #ethan in black 🖤

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hazelsmirrorball · 2 years

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Astronomy- Regulus Black

parings: Regulus Black x FEM! reader

Summary: Regulus and (Y/N)’s relationship was as beautiful as the stars in the sky. But as time passes their love for each other dies. Inspired by Conan Gray’s Astronomy

note: been gone for a while, hope y’all enjoy. If you have a request don’t be shy

astronomy

Regulus Black and (Y/N) (L/N). Their relationship was one pulled out of a book, a prohibited friendship turned into a Romeo and Juliet romance. Regulus never intended to fall in love with her and (Y/N) never intended to fall in love with him. But they did, they fell, and they fell hard. Talking about potions, became into silly little jokes and jokes became into the occasional flirty comments and a few months later both of them were lost with each other, falling in deep. Never in his wildest dreams did Regulus Black imagine himself falling in love with his brother's best friend and Y/n L/n never imagined falling in love with her best friend's younger brother. But love works in mysterious ways.

Socially speaking they were the same, same sense of humor, same quiet demeanor, and both of them both didn’t have the healthiest family relationship.

Regulus knew that his mother wouldn’t approve of their friendship, let alone their relationship. His mom cared about blood status, and she wanted to continue the pure bloodline in the Black family. Yet his other half was a muggle-born Gryffindor, two things his mom despised. He tried to avoid her at first knowing his mom wouldn’t like the fact that he was befriending a mud-blood, but the more he tried to avoid her the more intrigued he became. If his mother found out that he was dating a Muggleborn Gryffindor that’s best friends with Sirius it would be the end of Regulus. He couldn’t risk losing the only happiness he had in his life but he also couldn’t risk his mom getting un-pleased with him.

Regulus lay on his bed, eyes wide open lost with his thoughts. His thoughts went to Sirius, what he would do if he was in this situation. He knew he wouldn’t chicken out, he wouldn’t care what their parents said or thought and he would follow his heart. So that’s what he sort of did.

He got into a relationship with Y/n L/n but not into your typical one. Since he was deeply afraid of his mother but deeply in love with (Y/N) he decided to do an ultimatum, he would still be in a relationship with (Y/N) but without anyone knowing about it. His cowardness led him to do something he regretted now more than ever. When he told (Y/N) about keeping the relationship on the down low, she didn’t mind. So, they started dating.

At first, Regulus found himself thinking that he came up with the most brilliant plan ever, he could have the girl of his dreams while keeping his mother happy but he felt bad, he felt like a coward, he couldn’t hold her hand or kiss her in public. He couldn’t do all the things couples regularly did. He felt selfish like he was trying to have the best of both worlds and at some point, it was going to backfire and hurt one of them.

A tale old as time, young love doesn’t last for life

(Y/N) didn’t mind at first, she loved Regulus and she knew he wasn’t quite fond of PDA. She also was aware of his relationship with her mother since she was close with Sirius she knew what a pain she was. But it never crossed her mind that he would act like she never existed when he saw her around the halls. Like she was a stranger. Regulus had gone to the point of changing seats in their potions class and ignoring her presence. It hurt Y/n badly. She wished Regulus would scream at the world about how in love he was with her, but sadly that was near impossible. It was hard, how could she not hurt when the same person that ignored her during the day would caress her skin and mumble sweet nothings at night in the astronomy tower?

(Y/N) took James’s invisibility cloak quietly and tipped toed out of the Gryffindor common room. She wrapped her body with the invisibility cloak and walked towards the astronomy tower. She entered swiftly into the tower, instantly taking the cloak off and that’s when she locked eyes with her favorite fluffy-haired boy. He was sitting down against one of the edges with a big grin plastered on his face. Regulus taped the space beside him making (Y/N) skip happily towards him and giving him a peck on the check.

“That’s all I get?” Regulus said while pouting. In one instant moment, he took (Y/N) knees throwing her legs on top of his lap.

“Well, that’s what you deserve since you decided to ignore me, again may I add,” she said while innocently looking him straight in the eyes, Regulus melted instantly.

Damn, he felt so bad.

“You know I don’t do that on purpose. You have to trust me; I love you more than anything”

“I know and I do trust you, more than anything in this world” She while reaching towards his cheek to caress it softly with her thumb.

“Now, how was your day?” Regulus said with a soft smile.

“Well, James wanted to…”

As much as it seems like you own my heart

Today was a rough day for Y/n, Regulus had noticed as soon as he saw her walking behind the marauders while muttering some random words. He knew he wanted to sprint toward her and ask what was wrong but, he wasn’t brave enough for that. Even though he knew what he was doing was bad he decided to make it up for Y/n. He had slipped a small note in her robe when she accidentally bumped into him while heading toward class. The note read:

Meet me in the astronomy tower.

Regulus stayed the last hours setting up the astronomy tower. It was your guy's place. Where you guys could be yourself and enjoy each other's presence. You wouldn’t be judged for dating each other. You could slip into each other’s touch without a care in the world. It was your safe space.

Y/N walked in slowly whilst holding the small note Regulus gave her. Her eyes quickly watered when she saw the beautiful setup Regulus had made. The floor was covered in some beautiful blankets and pillows. A vanilla-scented candle was placed in the middle of a plate with chocolate-covered strawberries. Regulus looked up at you with the biggest smile on his face. The brightness of the stars and candles made him glow.

“I sometimes can’t believe you’re real Regulus,” Y/n said while sitting next to her beloved. Regulus pulled her close to him enjoying her presence. He took in her scent nuzzling into her neck. He smiled softly when he felt her shiver.

“I will love you forever Reg. You’re my forever star” Y/n said while taking Regulus by the chin making him look at her.

“And you’re my forever moon, love”

From far away, I wish I'd stayed with you

Regulus scrunched up his eyebrows while gripping forcefully against the apple that was close to his lips. He muttered random curse words while watching Y/n happily dance with James close by her side. If he wouldn’t be such a coward that would’ve been him.

But here, face to face, a stranger that I once knew

Regulus anxiously bounced his feet up and down waiting for his classmates to enter. He watched as Y/n laughed at something Lily Evans said. He grins excitedly watching her come near him. Her eyes hovered around the room stumbling towards Regulus her smiling instantly dropping. She avoid his eyes and walked far away from where she always sat.

I thought, if I wanted, I'd fall back in love You said, "Distance brings fondness", but guess not with us

“Regulus, I can’t keep doing this anymore” Y/n muttered under her breath avoiding his gaze.

“What?” Regulus quickly sat up and took him by the chin, making her look at him softly.

“ I just can’t keep doing this, I love you more than words can explain but I just can’t do all of this hiding. Dark times are coming and I feel like this is not the only thing you are hiding from me”

“Y/n, please trust me. When the time comes…”

“I can’t keep waiting for the time to come, Regulus. If you love me, why hide it? If we are soulmates like you said we were, why not show the world? Why hide the only good thing in your life?” Y/n yelled, covering her face desperately.

“Because I don’t want to lose the only good thing I have”

“You already did.”

We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars. We've seen everything from Saturn to Mars.

“When all of this ends, where do you see us?” Y/n asked while laying her head on his

“I see us traveling the world together, freely, falling in love all over again”

Stop trying to keep us alive. You're pointing at stars in the sky that already died. You can't force the stars to align when they've already died

Regulus gripped the envelope in front of him. He felt as if his world stop. Like everything didn’t matter at that moment. Like all of his effort and patience wasn’t worth it. All his faith in love was flushed down the drain. All the things he did, all the wrong things, he only regretted one. The one that constantly followed him. He finally thought that it was done. The constant guilt and regret were done, but there it was the constant reminder that he will never be as happy as he was a few years ago. He felt the tears falling from his cheeks as he read the beautifully engraved letter.

You are cordially invited to

James Potter & Y/n L/n

wedding

It's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

#james potter #regulus black #imagines #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #Marauders #timothee x reader #timothee chamalet #regulus black x reader #regulus #James #james potter x reader #harry potter imagines #Harry Potter #aaron taylor johnson #oneshot #Spotify

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natasha-in-space · 11 months

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What are your Headcanons for the rfa if they were fairytale characters?

This ask has certainly reawaken my childhood interest in fairytales and mythical creatures! It's always fun to play around with magical au's, so I had a lot of fun pondering over each respective character, and what role would they play in a fairytale setting. Btw, feel free to shoot me another ask if you were referring to actual characters from various fairytales, 'cause I have ideas on that front as well!

Yoosung

Unicorn. Now, this may seem like a very odd choice for him, but there's actually some reasoning behind it! Unicorns are often depicted as skittish creatures, who are actually very fierce at heart. I can't help but compare them to Yoosung in that regard, as he's often viewed as somebody who's a bit of a scaredy cat when, in reality, he is a person with a heart of gold who will fight tooth and nail for something he knows is right. Kind of like unicorns sometimes serve as protectors of nature and its many creatures in need of care. They are also deeply intertwined with healing properties, which fits right in with our boy Yoosung. Do I imagine him as a star-themed unicorn? Yes. Yes, I do.

Zen

Merfolk. Well, that was an easy pick! What could be more fitting for our darling star of the RFA than these beautiful and mystical creatures of the sea? Merfolk often symbolize individuality and independence, and those traits are very prevalent in Zen's life story. Be it through the tale of Ariel rebelling against her controlling father, or the tales of the sirens (which are different from mermaids but are worth mentioning regardless since they're often intertwined with one another) luring those unlucky enough to disturb their home waters to their demise, merfolk are mysterious and freedom-loving creatures. I can imagine Zen struggling to make a life for himself, as every human he meets falls for his beautiful voice and mesmerizing beauty... But, all he wants is to be seen for his skills and passions. There could be a very intriguing love story to be written about a merman Zen falling for a runaway sailor MC!

Jaehee

Faun. While fauns are creatures who are only depicted as men, we can bend the rules a little! This one's more of a biased choice of mine since I have a soft spot for fauns and their gentle nature. Fauns, similarly to satyrs, are half-human half-goat creatures, but they serve a distinctly different role from the aforementioned satyrs. While fauns are known for their occasional mischief, they are a symbol of harmony and balance between human existence and nature, and serve as protectors of the countryside and shepherds. There's something very sweet about imagining Jaehee as a reserved loyal faun slowly learning to accept that gentle loving part of herself and finding her own little community. I want her to create many delicious foods for the village she chooses to make her home and keep everyone's livelihoods safe and happy. (With occasional mischief of course!)

Jumin

Wizard. More specifically, dark magic wizard. It is simply way too fitting for his canonical fascination with the occult for me to overlook! Though, despite his affinity with dark magic, Jumin would use his powers strictly for necessary and good use. I could also see him being one of the most powerful mages in all the land, which is why he's also responsible for keeping the peace between every individual magic user. Could you imagine the damage a powerful witch or wizard could do if there were no regulations put in place? I see him also studying alchemy and potion-making in his free time. He is a responsible and wise wizard who's very in tune with his magic, but his status and power also keep him alienated from the rest of the world. Maybe a certain curious MC could help him with that? And yes, Elizabeth is his familiar.

Saeyoung

Dragon. This is another biased choice of mine because I just know for a fact Saeyoung is a huge nerd for dragons and has a dragon OC he loves with all his heart. To be fair, in some folktales, dragons do play the role of fierce protectors, loyal to those they hold dear and vicious to those who dare lay a hand on their treasure, be it in the form of literal gold or people they swore to defend. Either way, dragons are a force to be reckoned with, and it does describe our lovable but unforgiving redheaded on a pretty good level. Can you imagine? Him having to use his strength for horrible things, if only this meant his precious brother would be protected and happy? A lot of story potential for sure. I'd also like to imagine him having glowing dots on the underside of his wings that form various constellations. A reminder of his true gentler nature beneath all the blazing fire.

Jihyun

Phoenix. What could be more fitting for Jihyun's self-destructive devotion than a creature that literally sets itself on fire, only to be reborn again to repeat that very same cycle again? Not to mention the fact that fire brings a ton of very painful memories for him? He probably sees only the destruction his fire brings, overlooking the true beauty of it. Jihyun spends a lifetime neglecting himself and burning brightly for other people in his life instead of valuing his own tender heart. And, in the end, that's the exact reason why his fire hurt so many, despite his good intentions. But, phoenix's story is not one of loss and despair, it's a story of hope and renewal. I'm sure Jihyun will find his true strength eventually, and once he does, he will come out of the ashes shining brighter than ever before. Not for anyone else's gain but his own.

Rika

Faye. I quite like the idea of Rika being a faye with genuinely good intentions who was met with nothing but fear and loathing just because of who she is. See, fayes are known for their malice and the danger they entail for humans, especially children. It would certainly be hard to convince a bunch of paranoid and scared folks that you mean no harm. And, paradoxically, that's exactly what pushes Rika to eventually become the very same malicious and cruel faye everyone in her village claimed her to be. She abducts those she views as outcasts and brings them to her kingdom - a place where everyone can live in peace and harmony without fearing rejection or hatred. While faye can't lie... However, Rika is known for her extraordinary charisma and her elegant way with words. She can convince anyone to come to her side with one wave of her hand and just a tiny sprinkle of magic.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #yoosung kim #zen ryu #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #rika kim #rika is TECHNICALLY part of the rfa #so i included her #i just like rika 😔

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year

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Arcadia Analysis: Mulder’s Struggle

Contrary to popular belief, it was Mulder (and not Scully-- my long post of her experience here) who was having a rough time in Arcadia.

When Mulder arrives, his enthusiasm shines brighter than Scully’s placid happiness, momentarily disguising his true mood from her, the neighbors, and the viewers: dour, trapped, tense.

He immediately oozes saccharine charm and cuddles up to Scully,

letting her bear the weight of the giant welcome basket alone. A perfect set-up for his motivations and responses this episode.

(This is also when Scully begins to pick up on Mulder’s strange mood.)

In the Petries’ house, Mulder briefly reaches out to Scully again

but drops his hand and turns away immediately to avoid her intrigued eye contact.

He tosses his sweater in overt rebellion after a jab at how clean the house is;

then implies he’s the house-himbo, further annoying Scully by subtly denigrating this way of life (discussed here).

When Scully pushes his arms off (a “whoa, buddy” measure to him involving her in his games), Mulder nods acquiescence and respects it. ...That will change once he feels cornered by her motives.

As the neighbors insist on helping move the furniture in before cut off time, Mulder maintains a strained smile with his unusually direct eye contact for a guy who usually maintains direct eye contact.

When Win strongly advises him to keep the basketball hoop in the garage, the best Mulder can drum up is a head twist and half-smile. Already his miserable assignment just got more miserable.

The only genuine smile he cracks is when Scully reciprocates his jokes and ups the ante.

After ditching evidence hunting to tease Scully on her video taping--

Mulder seats himself on a kitchen counter, his jabs becoming one too many for her to ignore. She finally questions him on his laissez-faire attitude toward the case.

This is the pivotal kitchen scene:

Mulder insists he is “taking it seriously”; but just doesn’t see the point since it “isn’t an X-File.” Scully pokes him in turn (”aliens, tractor beams”); and he realizes she’s let something crucial slip: she WANTED this case. She is ENJOYING this case.

“Wow. You just wanted to ‘play house’.”

And when Scully doesn’t deny it, he immediately doubles down on being annoying and needling her for a long, long time.

This realization kicks up Mulder’s in survival mode, diluting any potential intimate danger zone with saccharine humor; pushing Scully’s buttons in hopes she’ll withdraw. His mood only picks up when he’s distracted from the present environment by analyzing evidence or investigating the neighborhood. Speaking of which--

The next day, after an accidental hose spray from Win mid-coverup,

Mulder and Scully try to get details about Big Mike’s whereabouts. Win’s gall to (badly) lie through his teeth further unsettles Mulder, rubbing against the raw sore this case reopened: forced conformity and lies shrouded in idyllic circumstances.

Mulder is deeply nostalgic. He remembers his childhood fondly (talking about the Vineyard and settling down in “Home”, any episode dealing with Samantha’s possible return, the alternate dream reality in “Amor Fati”, etc.)-- that everyone could leave their doors unlocked and children could safely play until dark. His golden years were torn from him by his sister’s abduction; and that pain was further compounded by his parents’ coldness, divorce, and half-truths they fed him all his life (and continue to feed him.) Paradise and deception are tightly twisted together in Mulder’s experience, making him wary of miracles; but that doesn’t stop him from hoping he’ll find that blissful happily ever after. The fear of forgoing that possibility of healing in losing sight of his sister, the quest, the Truth, haunts Mulder and keeps him focused on the stars. (It’s not until Milagro’s realization bleeding into The Unnatural’s refocus that he is able to resolve these fears at long last.)

But back to Mulder’s continued torment.

In one of the precious few “normal” moments between the two, Mulder backs away from Win; and Scully scoots over to fill in the distance. Unthinkingly, he drapes his arms around her shoulder and doesn’t seem to notice when she rests her head on his shoulder (which she initiates both steps, see here.)

Gogolak’s house is where Mulder’s barriers spring back up with a vengeance. His arms are locked around Scully in faux domestic bliss; but the minute she makes an unprecedented move-- laying her hand on his in wifely sympathy-- he stares her down until she retreats. His method works so well that Scully later retracts her own hand unprompted, remembering his earlier bristle. Any possible display of domesticity that isn’t used as a joke or a farcical weapon against the Arcadia residents is off-limits, and Scully gets the memo.

(Again, shameless plug: In this analysis, I discuss how Scully has been advancing on Mulder, only to be shoved back by discomfort or overt displays of reciprocations.)

During the Schroeders’ dinner, Mulder teases, pokes, prods the couple, at first using Scully as a mild punching bag before ~generously~ including her in the suspect-questioning fun.

Mulder ends the dinner on an overt gesture with Scully; but his smug smile is still tinged with admiration by her expert dodge.

(You gotta give Scully props-- she was persistently optimistic and patient this episode, even mildly sympathetic.)

After he retrieves Big Mike’s caduceus from the storm drain, Mulder tosses his shirt to cause more mess, purposefully throwing it in front of Scully’s face to draw her attention.

While she putzes about discussing their domestic practices (shared toilet?? shared toothpaste??), he keeps her on task by asking work questions. When she insists on being called “Laura”, he mouths “okay” sarcastically and promptly plops on her bed with his sneakers on.

Scully’s face mask genuinely surprises him for a moment, shocking him out of his careless facade briefly

...that is, until he gets a shirt to the face,

and his pokes return-- “Compulsive neatness... you fit in really well here.” At Scully’s flat “And you don’t”, he is gratified and gets another tease in before she kicks him out. (Through it all, Scully persists. What a trooper.)

His flamingo surveillance is a brief reprieve for poor Mulder,

but quickly becomes a failure. After his second surveillance and mailbox trap-- after he takes his pent-up aggression out on the innocent mailbox, of course--

he is awarded with a warning note... which he immediately puts to the test.

He very nearly challenges Win (in all sense of the word) while dribbling after dark;

but is stopped by Cami Shroeder’s screams and a glimpse at the monster.

From then on out a burden has been lifted from Mulder’s shoulders, and he charges ahead with a new pep in his step.

Mulder gets Scully-- who nearly bashes his head in with a poker--

on board his tulpa bunny-tunnel theory; and tries to reassure her “do you want to hear what I think?” with an “always.” His mood swing up is a little late for Scully’s mood swing down.

Regardless, Scully still supports his excavation project the next day (though she’s not around when he lords it over the neighbors);

and, when it doesn’t give satisfactory results, checks in to make sure he’s doing okay.

When Mulder finds the Whirligig of Doom,

he tears off to arrest Gogolak. He rails against Gogolak’s selfish whims,

asking him if it was so important that everyone had “the same color mailbox.” (Arcadia Mailboxes here.)

I’m going to skip the climatic finale, because that is going to get a post of its own. The worst nightmares for Mulder and Scully are reenacted (though their full potential was never utilized. Oh, well.)

After Mulder witnesses Gogolak’s brutal death, he stands, petrified, as the garbage tulpa comes for him. It collapses as its master finally dies; and he is left with only a garbage heap at his feet, the perfect analogy for the place he so disdains.

An interesting thing to note: as Mulder and Scully are leaving, he tries to fix the Petries’ wonky mailbox. The damage he had inflicted the day before hadn’t dented it; but now it was beyond repair, permanently demolished with Gogolak’s demise.

I touched briefly on the symbolisms of the mailboxes in Arcadia (mentioned previously); but I like that Mulder had a whole scene dedicated to watching the mailbox with hostility, only for him to almost appreciate its value as the note conduit, the deliverer of buried Whirligigs, and the prison post for shackled Gogolak. He seems remorseful at its fate as he briefly wobbles it in place;

but shrugs it off and puts it out of mind when he realizes it’s irreparable. Much like the rest of his time here, Mulder ignores the problem, believing there’s nothing he can do about it. (Meanwhile, Scully looks on by the car, silent and withdrawn.)

All in all, Mulder had a very-not-fun-time until he was able to find his X-File distraction, the polar opposite of Scully’s fun time slowly deteriorating as she realizes Mulder is distancing himself from her own wishes and hopes.

Now that THAT’s done, it’s time to slowly pull together my last post:

Mulder’s and Scully’s worst nightmares explored in one moment.

#txf #meta #Arcadia Analysis #Mulder's Struggle #Arcadia #xf meta #x-files #the x-files #xfiles #txf meta #S6 #Analysis

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writing-for-life · 5 months

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Tell me more about your OC, Thalia! How did you get the idea for her? What’s your fav part about her? Any thoughts about her as a character that ended up on the cutting room floor?

I love those questions! My OCs are my babies, I love talking about them!

I’m super used to writing OCs since that’s usually all I write (The Light of Stars is actually my first fanfic, believe it or not, but I’ve written original stories for literal decades).

Funnily enough, Thalia started with… the name. I knew from the start there would be a lot of references to Greek mythology. Too much to mention here, people who read the fic will know, but I had this idea about Psyche’s journey to the underworld I wanted to reference at some point, and I also wanted a reference to a muse. Thalia had the nicest ring to it while being somewhat referential. Sometimes it’s really as simple as that 😂 I pronounce her Tah-lee-ya btw (it’s a less common pronunciation of that spelling, but it exists. I just didn’t want to spell her Talia for obvious reasons, but she totally sounds like it. And now I’ve destroyed the sound at least half of my readers had in their heads 🙈).

Thalia is the muse of comedy, and I wanted some of that in her. She has this intelligent sense of humour that is both genuine but also a coping mechanism, and it made for an interesting dynamic with Morpheus, who is always so serious. Her humour is, albeit observational, warm. She’s not a cynic although she has every reason to be, and I guess he knows that because he knows her story and what she’s been through, and it probably makes him think. He finds her challenging, but there is also an honesty and emotional openness to her, especially about her own hurt/darkness, that he finds intriguing. And that honesty also extends to how she relates to him—she is someone who actually sees him in the truest sense of the word, and it’s something he both needs so desperately but also finds impossible to trust and fully give in to for a very long time, and for a lot of reasons.

I guess the idea was to find someone who is in many ways like him (only in terms of shared human experience) but has a completely different way of dealing with it. It is, although a love story, at its core an exploration of trauma, loss and grief, of second or even third chances at life (however you might define the latter), and I’d long wondered what would happen if he met someone who is NOT trying to change him. They have their problems and conflicts, yes, but ultimately, this is about a deep mutual understanding that hinges on acceptance. And that acceptance is possible because it was there from the start, for reasons that I won’t give away here, but they are deeply rooted in how she always related to who and what he is on a conceptual level. And now I’m writing the sequel, and it becomes even more important.

My favourite part about her must be how she has the ability to make him laugh? Like, little by little, from something that barely makes him cock an eyebrow to a tug on the corners of his mouth to little smiles that get more frequent. And that moment when he sees the painting and actually realises he *is* like that around her was weirdly emotional to write because it wasn’t planned.

Plus, that she gets him to the stage where his laughs are actually audible, and they’re *not* weird. Well, at least not *that* weird. And from a writer’s point of view, it felt like a really natural, gradual progression that just happened, so it wasn’t something I had plotted. They just did their thing, and I wrote it down 😂

The stuff that ended up on the cutting room floor was mostly related to the no mortals rule. I explored a lot of different angles but ultimately didn’t want her to be a goddess or witch or somehow overpowered to circumvent that, it just didn’t sit right with me. So I spent a lot of time on setting up different beats that might look like one thing or another, but without giving too much away: The whole story hinges on her humanity and mortality, and it was ultimately the only thing that made sense.

Thanks again for the ask. It was a really good opportunity to talk about character creation/development, because so often, people seem to believe that all OCs are straightforward self-inserts, and nothing could be farther from the truth (OC fics aren’t reader fics). It’s impossible for characters not to have little bits of us because they come out of our brains, but they aren’t mirror images. I sometimes give characters little bits I’m confident in writing authentically without having to do a lot of research. For Thalia, it was drawing/painting. I had other female OCs that rode a motorcycle or did a martial art I’ve been familiar with since my childhood, others again were professional performers. I find I can write these things without overwriting them because I know what they feel like. Because sometimes, people will research these things and write them like an instruction manual. And while the detail is correct, someone who really *does* these things would never describe them that way. But that’s often really as far as it goes. It pains me to say that I’m far more like Morpheus than like Thalia, but I didn’t need to self-insert for that to be the case 😂

And now I want to know: What’s your favourite part about her and their dynamic? Other readers are welcome to chime in, too.

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sshbpodcast · 6 months

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Character Spotlight: Jean-Luc Picard

By Ames

Since you all enjoyed our spotlighting of all the characters from The Original Series, we’re going to continue onward by spotlighting all our mains from Star Trek: The Next Generation as well! Of course, we were going to do it anyway because we’re having a blast going officer by officer and reminiscing on their high and low points, but I wanted you to feel special.

And what better way to start things off than with one of the fandom’s favorite and most ethical characters, and the one who sparked his own [deeply flawed] spinoff series, Captain Jean-Luc Picard! So join us on this week’s A Star to Steer Her By as we put on our captain’s bomber jacket, whip out our Ressikan flutes, and drape our Mintakan tapestries over the backs of chairs. Read on below for when Picard was at his best, and subsequently at his worst, and listen to the banter over on this week’s podcast episode (jump to 1:08:49 if you're not here for Enterprise chat). Make it so!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Not now, Doctor. Please. I already foresee talking about “The Naked Now” quite a lot over the next couple of weeks because everyone’s character ends up exaggerated by the polywater syndrome. And Picard is no exception. We do admit that it is good of him to fight his intoxication and also Bev’s advances, and it also gives us that little horny chuckle and skip that are just so endearing.

Prove to the court that I am sentient Picard becomes known throughout the series for his excellent ethical and philosophical speeches, and the first really big one comes in “The Measure of a Man” and it’s a doozy. It’s no small feat determining sentience (really, sapience) of a being, and Picard standing up to Bruce Maddox to fight for Data’s rights is something to take pride in and aspire to.

The time cops would be proud Picard’s relationship with Guinan is intriguing throughout all of TNG, and his trust in her abilities is enough for him to believe that it is best to send the Enterprise-C back to their rightful place in history in “Yesterday’s Enterprise.” As his alternate-timeline ship is crashing down around him and his crew is dying all over the bridge, he heroically gives the C their best shot.

Sarek <3 Spock In our Top 5 TNG Episodes list, “Sarek” ended up being the only episode that made all four of your hosts’ lists. And for good reason! Picard compassionately helps Sarek through a bout of Bendii syndrome by mindmelding with him so he can get back to his ambassadorial work, and we end up with some of the best Patrick Stewart acting in the whole show for it!

Bedtime for Borgo Picard has a rough time throughout all of “The Best of Both Worlds,” spending most of the two-parter as Locutus, as you’ll see in just a moment. But at the end of Part II, he’s able to fight through the Borg programming just enough to give Data the one-word cue “Sleep,” which turns out to be the undoing of the Borg in that Battle of Wolf-359.

Mev yap! I’m always a big fan of watching Picard speaking Klingon in their ceremonies. It shows how seriously he takes their customs. And in “Reunion,” when he breaks out the ja’chuq while arbitrating the Rite of Succession and also looking into K’mpec’s murder, it’s so ballsy that you’ve got to respect the guy. Or, at least anyone who isn’t as dishonorable as Duras has got to respect the guy.

With the first link, the chain is forged Yet another in a long line of great Picard speeches comes in “The Drumhead.” Admiral Satie gets more and more power hungry to convict people throughout her Red Scare hearings, even through unscrupulous means. Picard rightly puts her in her place by throwing the just words of her own father in her face. No wonder she’s on Jake’s Evil Admirals listicle.

Sokath, his eyes uncovered! Picard befriending Captain Dathon in “Darmok” is so Picardy that I’m swapping it in for that great line from “Peak Performance” I mentioned on the podcast (which is still great, but the screengrab was more boring). And I’m just so impressed with Picard’s patience in learning the seemingly nonsensical Tamarian language and his willingness to trust another being who just wants to communicate with him.

Resistance is not futile While it could be debated that this moment be prime fodder for Picard’s Worst Moments list for not getting rid of the Borg when he had the chance in “I, Borg,” we’ve got to admit it’s such a good moment for Picard to connect with Hugh and save his life. After having been forced into the role of Locutus, Picard has got to feel some small triumph that he didn’t commit genocide this day.

There! Are! Four! Lights! More absolutely stellar Patrick Stewart acting comes in “Chain of Command, Part II.” Say what you will about Part I (Picard had no reason to be on this mission, there, I said it), watching Picard retain his humanity and resolution while being tortured by Gul Madred is riveting stuff. And no matter how many times I see it, I get goosebumps at his “four lights” defiance every time.

Yippee-ki-yay Here’s another kinda late addition to this list but how can one not include all the sabotaging of the ship he does in “Starship Mine”? It’s clear that Picard knows his ship like the back of his hand (the one that wasn’t briefly a Borg hand, more likely) when you watch him outsmart a bunch of terrorists as he John McClanes all over the Enterprise-D.

How many people does it take, Admiral, before it becomes wrong? Insurrection may not be anyone’s favorite of the Star Trek movies (here’s ours, for reference!), but Picard’s ethical debate feels so immensely right. Between standing up to Dougherty (another evil admiral!), to fighting for the rights of the Ba’ku, to his great line to Gallatin, “I’m not pleading for my life; I’m pleading for yours,” this is the most Picard has ever Picarded. Period.

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Worst moments

Shut up, Wesley While we were tempted to also include this moment in our Best Moments list, it’s true that no matter how obnoxious Wesley is being (and he so often is; just wait until our Wesley spotlight), it’s never right to tell him to shut up. Even less so when he is literally the only member of the crew who is actually giving you pertinent information to save the day, as he was in “Datalore.”

Breaking the cycle Since we first watched it, we’ve been simply perplexed by “Time Squared.” There’s a reason it made so many of our Worst Time Travel Episode lists. Picard, at an entire loss for ideas, decides to kill the other him who’s been bonking around to see if that stops the time loops, and then leaves the corpse there for Pulaski to find without telling anyone which him it is! WTF?

I don't know if I want to be Eve I’ve also got to give Picard some guff for making the Bringloidi breeding stock for the Mariposans in “Up the Long Ladder.” Brenna even chastises Picard in the final scene for deciding this with only the male leaders of each society without consulting the women, who will have to basically become baby incubators, and even more annoyingly, she ends up being into it!

Resistance IS futile! While we can’t exactly blame Picard himself for being turned into Locutus in “The Best of Both Worlds,” resulting in huge losses for the Federation, we do have to admit it’s one of his lowest points as a human being. There’s a reason why Picard actually needs to take a mental health vacation in “Family,” something we tended to never see in Star Trek of that era.

Another orphan for the Rozhenkos You could tell by the look on Picard’s face after he accidentally killed Junior’s mother in “Galaxy’s Child” that he knows he screwed up. Couldn’t they have just left her alone in space instead of provoking her to attack them and then finding it necessary to shoot her dead? And now poor Junior has to be raised by his asshole aunts and uncles, thank you very much.

Now now now now! I mean, we were bound to dislike “Rascals” regardless because of its terrible child actors and obnoxious plot, but when you think about it, Picard was also entirely out of character. And it’s not just because he was supposed to be prepubescent: it was because he suddenly couldn’t lead his crew, and being smaller and whinier is no excuse for ignoring all his past experiences!

Mystery solved: Picard did it! If we picked on Kirk back in one of our earlier character spotlights for never checking in on Khan when he marooned him on Ceti Alpha V, then you’re damn right we’re going to pick on Picard for not checking in on Moriarty between “Elementary, Dear Data” and “Ship in a Bottle.” In that time, the holographic mastermind got rightly impatient and took matters into his own hands.

Play dom-jot, human “Tapestry” portrays how brash and short-sighted and tail-chasing Picard was in his years at Starfleet Academy, and how his willingness to get into scrapes got him into a fight with Nausicaans that really should have killed him if it weren’t for future technology. Thank the Continuum for JL’s artificial heart that allowed him to become the man we saw him become.

So it was gik'tal after all While we get that Sito Jaxa had a lot to atone for after the incident in “The First Duty,” we are still uncomfortable with how much Jean-Luc guilted her into going on the very dangerous mission that got her killed in “Lower Decks.” Picard definitely abused his power over her in this instance because he knew how badly she wanted to save face and he exploited it.

Kill the Dorvan V native, save the man Indeed, one of the worst decisions we see Picard make is when he just acts on Necheyev’s orders (hey, another of Jake’s Evil Admirals!) like a little sheep and coordinates moving the inhabitants of Dorvan V in “Journey’s End.” It’s shameful to watch Picard go the route of the Trail of Tears, and then only come around when he’s shown who his ancestor was.

I think it’s time to try some unsafe velocities We talk a lot about how the Prime Directive isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but that’s still no excuse for all the dunebuggying antics Picard performed in Nemesis. Especially in front of all the natives of the planet (or what we assumed were natives). What a pathetic scene in a pathetic movie. It’s so clear they just wanted to race around in an ATV for a little excitement, but it was absolutely stupid and out of character.

The triumph of the echo over the voice Fittingly, we have even more Nemesis moments to lament since it was such a detestable movie. All movie long, I don’t understand why Picard is so conflicted about the clone situation, as if Shinzon is literally Picard himself and it would reflect poorly on him somehow. That’s not how clones work, dude! There’s no saving this asshole. And unrelatedly, but here we are: stop ordering Worf to go naked to the wedding on Betazed; that’s just gross!!!

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Well, our Earl Grey tea has gotten lukewarm, and that means we’ve got to wrap things up. Make sure you join us next week for more character spotlights, this one of the bearded variety, and also keep following along with our watchthrough of Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also discuss diplomatic relations with us on Facebook and Twitter, and let Worf keep his clothes on if he wants!

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transingthoseformers · 11 months

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Rodimus is convinced, via talking to the deeply old fashioned Cyclonus and Tailgate, that they need to have a baby party and is determined to surprise Tarn and make it perfect.

He harrasses Megatron into giving him some old poetry of his that he tosses at him in self-defense, Rodimus records himself reading Peace Through Tyranny as a baby audiobook because he asks Kaon for advice, gets Cyclonus to sing a classic traditional opera song Rodimus hates but Tarn mentioned, paints everything purpl, and the centerpiece is a floating tricked out booby trapped floating baby craddle painted purple outside and inside in orange so the baby "has the best of both of them!" that Perceptor and Brainstorm made.

Then kind of soft he offers Tarn a handmade metal mesh baby blanket he made with Skids. It is an old Nyon tradition he shows Tarn a small protection symbol sewed into it and explains he knitted stars and the Decepticon symbol/Tarn's face since they are symbols of protection for them. It's usually religious symbols but he knows Tarn doesn't believe so he compromised.

The vibes are rank most people are there against their will and Tarn cries because he's so touched and very pregnant. Nautica, innocent sweet Nautica, has been the only one very openly excited and friendly with the DJD, much like with Megatron, and happily supplies Tarn with traditional Camien blessings and some baby toys she made with help.

(Tarn has also spent this time pissed, depressed, murderous, and despairing because Rodimus has been avoiding him to prepare and Tarn is convinced he was cheating with Skids and planning to murder him when he was told to meet him at Swrve's.)

I am dying to death over here because this is so damn complex and intriguing and it's a beautiful dumpster fire, I am in love

Tarn is equally being a pissbaby, a mood, so damn confused yet happy, his emotions are being thrown about like a ragdoll because ~carrying~, so many mecha are terrified and weirded out, Rodimus is trying so hard and is already so damn excited for this kid (I feel like this says something about him), don't even get me started on how much I love the colors orange and purple together, Megatron is *suffering*, just... Ohh. Oh this is so fun

#maccadam #transformers #crack #not tagging all the characters #because there's a lot #crack au #somehow more chaotic than the tfp au #propagate #stage seven: breeding season

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nikibogwater · 1 year

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Niki Blethers: The Mandalorian--season 3

I know my Blethers posts are usually about individual episodes, but I was away from Tumblr for most of this season’s release schedule, so I’m just going to drop my final thoughts on the season as a whole.

Spoilers below the cut!

Before we begin: I’m aware that season 3′s finale revealed that Din is actually his family name, not his first name. But I am too deeply rooted in the habit of calling him Din now, so I am going to continue to do so until further notice, canon notwithstanding.

Short version: I’m of the opinion that season was very badly written overall. Not just that the story went in directions I didn’t like, but that the narrative structure itself was very poorly constructed.

The biggest issue is the way plotlines and character arcs that had previously been set up as important steps for the main characters are all hastily resolved and brushed aside with no fanfare.

The search for the Living Waters beneath Mandalore is set up in the season premier as though that is going to be the main focus of this season. Din finds the Living Waters in the very next episode, and we’re not even allowed to see what this moment means to him as a character. Because apparently it’s just so much more important to know how Bo Katan feels about Din’s commitment to the Way and his personal journey for redemption. It’s 2023, you can’t have your main protagonist be motivated by their sense of tradition and faith! At the very least, you have to keep all that nonsense at arm’s length by showing it through the eyes of an outsider!!!

Bo Katan’s rivalry with Din was also something that season 2 set up, and the season 3 premier seemed to lean into. It really looked like we were going to see these two clash over their ideological differences (not to mention the Darksaber) at least a few times this season. But then he said something nice about her dad and now she’s cool with him having the Darksaber, so nevermind.

Din’s struggle to master the Darksaber was a major part of his two-episode appearance in The Book of Boba Fett. Season 3 sees him barely using the dang thing before it’s unceremoniously ripped away from him and plopped back into Bo Katan’s lap.

Basically the entire season felt like it was doing its utmost to ignore the rules of Setup and Payoff. Nothing felt important in this season because anything that did have a significant amount of setup behind it was resolved with the wave of a hand. The knowledge that any plot point could be dropped as soon as the showrunners got tired of it made it impossible for me to care about what was happening.

I was actually bored for most of this season--as in, mind wandering, checking the clock to see how much time had passed, reaching for a fidget toy bored. Star Wars hasn’t been outright boring to me since the days-long podracing scene in The Phantom Menace.

They sidelined Din in order to focus on Bo Katan, and they didn’t even bother to make her earn the position of main protagonist. Everything she needs is handed to her by virtue of her being in the right place at the right time. She didn’t earn the Darksaber--she just happened to be there when Din lost it. She doesn’t prove herself as a capable leader--in fact the first thing she does is her people head-first into a trap--and the only reason she has the opportunity to be a capable warrior is because the writers keep conveniently forgetting how skilled of a fighter Din is.

So not only did they remove Din from the spotlight in his own show, they replaced him with a character who isn’t even half as interesting or compelling as he was. And just to make things that much worse, Bo Katan could have been at least somewhat intriguing if they had leaned into her flaws--y’know this woman used to be an actual terrorist, right? Like, she was at least partially responsible for the death of her sister and the fall of Mandalore. But the show isn’t going to bring any of that up or even remotely imply that it’s part of what motivates Bo Katan in the present because that would detract from her image as the Ultimate Badass Girlboss Queen Supreme version 2.5.

I highly suspect that the reason for Bo Katan being brought in as a substitute for Din was due to corporate meddling. It is very difficult for me to believe that Jon and Dave--two very competent writers who have both given us fascinating characters and well-told stories in the past--would start half-assing this show with no warning. The Mandalorian was their baby, and the behind-the-scenes documentaries show how passionate and careful they were. This whole situation just reeks of Hollywood executives slavering for the chance to virtue signal about their “strong female characters” on Twitter. Because y’know...that’s totally not a thing that has existed in the Star Wars canon since the very first movie.

I could make a mile-long post that is only about the stuff I personally didn’t like. I could talk about how much I dislike the sidelining of the series staple characters, how much I hate the way IG-11 was treated, how I think Grogu running and flipping and fighting on his own looks janky as heck. But those aren’t technical failures--those aren’t examples of the season actually being badly constructed.

As much as I hate those things, I acknowledge that they could have been well-written. Just because you personally dislike something doesn’t mean that it is badly-written. The real downfall of this season for me isn’t that it had concepts I personally disliked, but that those concepts were executed in the story with all the grace and forethought of a toddler jamming a square into a triangle-shaped hole.

Everyone has a different level of tolerance when it comes to bad writing, and everyone has different ideas of what bad writing even is in the first place. There are plenty of poorly-written movies and shows out there that are nonetheless entertaining. I know there have been fans for whom this season’s failings weren’t an issue. But I hit my limit before the end of the second episode. And while there were a few individual scenes that I found enjoyable, it was not enough to outweigh my overall feeling of complete apathy towards every major event that unfolded in this season.

Let’s get one thing straight here: I love the first season of The Mandalorian. To this day, I rank it as the greatest piece of Western sci-fi that I’ve ever seen. I fangirled over it so hard that it convinced my parents to watch it--and then they fangirled over it with me. It was the first time both of my parents were just as in love with a piece of media as I was, and they gladly went out of their way to watch, re-watch, and discuss it with me. It’s an extremely special show to us because of that.

So for season 3 to be so clumsy and boring that my parents couldn’t watch past the fourth episode--so mind-bogglingly dull that even I, Devoted Mando Fangirl that I am, had to make myself sit down and watch new episodes--well, the showrunners really had to screw up big time in order to achieve something like that.

Oh, and you wanna know the absolute WORST part about all of this? ...Somehow season 3 of The Mandalorian is still better than the series finale for Tales of Arcadia. :’)

#star wars #the mandalorian #niki blethers #semi-review

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ceciliatllis · 1 year

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What do you think of 7 husbands of Evelyn Hugo? What do you think of Evelyn so far? 🙂

Hi there! Apologies for the delayed response and thank you for the message! :) This may be a longer reply as I actually finished reading it the other day so hope that isn't too bothersome aha. While I felt the story stalled at times and I was not super invested at the start, I became very engrossed in the second half and was intrigued to know how the lives of these characters unraveled. With Evelyn, I admittedly had a difficult time relating to her personally and really struggled to enjoy her as a character due to her calculating and self-serving qualities. Her repeatedly describing the allure she had over people around her and mentioning movie stars being the "chosen ones" because they were extraordinary and special compared to others became excessive. While I completely understand that she is a hardened, flawed woman who sadly learned early on she must take advantage of others in order to achieve what she wants to get ahead and does not make apologies for who she is as a person, people inevitably have an easier time appreciating characters who resonate with them on a personal level and I did not find myself experiencing that when it came to who she was as a person/her nature. With that said, I felt the story definitely picked up when Celia was introduced (which makes sense as she's the other half of the prominent romance of the book) and her relationship with Evelyn finally showed a different side to her that was human, tender, and more vulnerable.

While reading about Evelyn and Celia, I think it was made clear that Evelyn behaved in selfish and inconsiderate ways as a partner and didn't think about how her actions would affect someone she cared about. Not telling Celia about the full extent of her plans with Mick Riva, sleeping with Harry so that her personal dream of having a child could be fulfilled when there were other options (this really didn't make sense to me), once again omitting something from her when she didn't let her know about the on-screen love scene between her and Don before it was filmed; these were all choices that she knew would make Celia feel insecure and not acknowledging how they affected her fractured their relationship. Celia definitely had her fair share of flaws too of course; she dismissed Evelyn's sexuality and couldn't come to terms with it and also made some pretty demeaning comments about her when she was angry. I do have some issues with this author's style in that I wish she developed her characters and relationships better initially and provided them with more depth rather than TELLING the reader how they're supposed to feel about them - a clear example that comes to mind is Evelyn stating she and Harry were "best friends" very early on in the book despite not showing the reader any intimate exchanges between them that demonstrated how they became closer. With that said, I do appreciate how she shows that connections with people (specifically romantic ones) can oftentimes be tumultuous and deeply imperfect while still being fueled by a genuine bond between two people who are fundamentally incompatible as it's true to life. It highlights that people don't always make the right decisions and can be driven by pride and how that can hinder them from finding long-term happiness.

I was not a fan of the melodramatic plot-twist at the end related to Monique's father and I think the book would have felt more believable without it. I've noticed this author has a habit of making events in her books feel contrived and unnatural and I thought it was a soapy addition to an otherwise moving ending. I think the author wanted this reveal to be poignant but I found it completely unneeded (especially since there's a series of tragic deaths near the end and that reveal really removed me from the impact of those events since it feels jarring and out of place). The book has a perfect format for a miniseries which is why I'm confounded by it being turned into a Netflix movie. This is a narrative that needs to properly span years with characters who believably age as it continues so that it has an emotional impact and I don't think a film will have enough time to cover everything that the reader experiences. Overall, I do think it was a worthwhile book and it strongly emphasizes that the most valuable part of life is being authentic and finding connections with others.

#the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #evelyn hugo #celia st. james #taylor jenkins reid #re: ask #re: lit #re: thoughts #re: the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #this was way longer than anticipated so apologies if it's alot ahaha #many thoughts about this book clearly

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

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Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

#lucien vanserra #sass appreciation #this is 90% acotar #I didn't include ACOFAS or ACOSF because his sass is not as strong #other than calling Rhys and Feyre assholes #kp analysis #acotar series #mtp

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

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