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#so sequence of events seems to be

dummy-morty · 15 days

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on one hand i hate fridging and i hate how diane as a character basically only exists to provide rick with a crybaby backstory.

on the other hand i actually am going really crazy over the fact that rick prime truly and actually and for real killed her off in every single universe just to spite rick c-137 ("you're the only thing i can't replace" from the fear hole episode did something insane to me) especially since the rick we know is so used to hopping dimensions when shit goes south. in this case there are absolutely zero chances for him to try again and it's one of the few times he DIDN'T cause the problem he's running from in the slightest... i guess it does give some new insight as to why he's so attached to the morty prime and the current smith family, because in a lot of ways they kind of ARE his second chance, even if that wasn't his original intention...?

which just brings me back to being upset about diane's character only being used to further rick's development once she's dead... sigh

#i dunno. there's only so much you can do with a character who died ages before the events of the show #they crew did say that the diane in morty's fear hole sequence was basically Her.. as far as characterization goes #but i wish we could see her relationship with rick and beth. what they were like before everything happened #we know that rick loved her but we don't actually know what that looked like. so diane seems kind of flat #idk i'm just yapping and talking in circles right now. idk if any of it makes sense #anyway. regular tags for navigation ->#rick and morty #rick sanchez #diane sanchez #just chatting

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not-poignant · 10 months

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Idk if it was just me but I finished the chapter annoyed at Sebastian and at Alex becuz like, Sebastian is obvi really pushy but Alex could've just talked to him and was enjoying baiting him and chose not to be mature either and now I'm worried it's just me help

It's not just you anon, don't worry sdlkjfas

Okay so, Sebastian's bad behaviour is the most obvious to spot because we're seeing the story from Alex's perspective.

But frankly, Alex can be just as bad.

I have zero doubt that if Alex had just said: 'Sebastian, I don't trust you with this subject, and it's not something I want to talk about. I get that you want to talk about it, but it's not like you've treated me that great about some of these things and I just can't right now' I can guarantee you that Sebastian would have actually taken that on board and left, the way he actually started to leave when Alex asked him to in complete sentences. At that point, Sebastian was pretty resistant, but he still did it and generally speaking every single time Alex has talked to him clearly - like an adult - Sebastian has talked to him clearly - like an adult.

Alex so often sets the tone of their interactions, often without necessarily realising. His truculent, single-syllable answers are very much like a petulant or sulking teenager. It's 100% not healthy communication, and as you say, there was even a point where Alex was enjoying making Sebastian mad.

I love Alex to pieces, but he's not a mature communicator. He has lots of reasons as to why that's true, just like Sebastian has a lot of reasons to behave the way he does, but that doesn't mean it's healthy. Alex mentally being like 'well if you aren't going to ask me questions I'm going to pretend I don't know what you're thinking' is extremely passive aggressive. An adult response is to go: 'If you want to ask me something just ask, but I don't want to talk to you about this, and I don't trust you' or 'Can you please ask what you want to ask' or 'Have you ever noticed that you don't ask me direct questions?'

It's funny because Sebastian will happily admit he's bad at communicating, he can be an asshole, he is pushy. He's a work in progress and he knows he is. But Alex rarely gives him chances to progress. The reason Alex gets pushed against a wall in the next chapter is because Sebastian literally kind of has had enough, and forces Alex to talk to him in like, complete sentences. That's not great, but it's also not great that it's so hard to get Alex to talk like a person.

They're both kind of perfect for each other, lmao. And they're both equally messed up. It's easier to give Alex a pass because we know how distressed and upset he is and we understand and it's bad to forcibly 'out' someone before they're ready. Those things are all true!!

But it's also true that Alex is a passive aggressive monosyllabic little shit who wants love and care and comfort and also doggedly drives it away. This story is about both of them messily growing up (literally, it's in the summary of the story) salkfjsa and that includes Alex. One of the things that makes them compatible is that Alex wants to be pushed and Sebastian wants to push him.

So yeah anon, tl;dr - it's not just you re: being annoyed at Alex and Sebastian in that chapter :D It actually kind of makes me happy that you are annoyed at Alex, though I hope that's not interfering with your enjoyment of the story!

#asks and answers #thespectaclesofthor #a stain that won't dissolve #sdv sebastian x alex #i have a lot of feelings about this anon #i do think you're in the minority simply because #alex is crying in his house all alone #and sebastian has a lot of friends #but that doesn't mean your interpretation is wrong #and yeah... that whole evening went that way because they *both* created that sequence of events together #hell - alex could have been clear so many times in this chapter #SO MANY TIMES #and he elected not to be over and over and over again #i imagine if you're not in his head reading his internal monologues #he just seems like an opaque dickhead sometimes

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celeryw · 2 years

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Team 20 character fills from this post bc i'm going through my ask bait tag with them in mind 8)

names: azure fang: oshiro hiroko | breeze dancer: tachibana kazue | crimson fist: yamashita rikuto | midnight blade: nakamura shun | scarlet blaze: uchiha takashi

Who said “I love you” first

Kazue is the first to say 'I love you' but he doesn't mean it in that way, not romantic in the least. He's easy with everything, especially appreciation. The others follow, picking up his habit of oh my gosh! Rikuto you nailed that, I love you and Shun, thank you I love you and okay bye! Love you! it starts before they get together and the meaning changes as they finally, eventually, date.

The first to say it and mean it, romantically at least, is Takashi. He whispers it to the top of Hiroko's head while they're on the couch together. The television flickering lights onto her face, an ethereal glow illuminating her hair. He can't help but say it.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Rikuto has a group photo as both his lockscreen and his background. The lockscreen photo is the five of them standing in a circle with their different kinds of shoes. Hiroko has said that it would be funny to do a converse photo on one of their dates and they had huddled up and taken it. His background picture is a selfie that Shun had taken of the five of them on a pier, in their bathing suits, posed with ice creams in their hands.

Shun has their colours in vertical stripes as his lock screen. His actual background and theme is a monochromatic black, white and purple.

Hiroko has a collage of selfies and pictures that span from last year of highschool through to their adult working lives as her background. Nothing prior because that was when she had last updated her phone and didn't sync up the photos. Her lock screen is a photo of a polaroid picture, the actual original copy sits on the back of her phone inside her case.

Takashi has a default wallpaper as his lock screen, it's one of the animated fish ones. His background is a photo of the five of them with sparklers writing out the word 'fuck' and a heart with long exposure.

Kazue has the sparkler picture as his lock screen. A picture of the other four working on Shun's bike is the background.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Hiroko likes to draw on the shower screen glass, and if she's showered with someone else they'll join in too. There's ten centimetres at the top of the glass that gets foggy and doesn't get splashed by water that always has evidence of a prior shower drawing

The mirror gets outlines of people where Kazue will reach around Hiroko and trace her reflection and then add silly faces where her real face would be. They always stand naked and drying laughing at the angry eyebrows and squiggly mouths.

They add writing to these too, arrows pointing to finger drawings to label them as 'catboy' and 'meow meow'.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Shun always, always, will impulse buy things that he sees that reminds him of the others, one of the many impulses that he is helpless against. He sees a nice flower, a smooth pen, a tasteful necklace, a choker on clearance, a pad of stickers and he's already taking it with him to the counter to pay for it.

The others, of course, will buy him gifts in return.

Who initiated the first kiss

Takashi and Rikuto are the first to kiss, the two of them are inside at a house party that'd just started warming up. Takashi had pulled Rikuto into one of the open bedrooms and asked for help with his makeup. He didn't actually need help though, but it was too early in the night to play tipsy and kissy. Rikuto, flustered, helped reapply highlight and body glitter and Takashi watched him from under his eyelashes. Gaze flitting from focused eyes to lips.

Rikuto was the one to ask for the kiss, tongue darting out to wet his lips and Takashi grinned and gave him one, and then another, and then pulled away as someone from outside the house switched the music to something louder.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Kazue is usually the first out of bed if all five of them sleep together. He kisses the person who's closest to the end of the bed and then goes about his day.

Shun next and he always spends the time to give a kiss to whoever's still in bed.

Rikuto and Takashi usually wake up around the same time and give each other a smooch and then one for Hiroko.

Hiroko is the one to be kissed awake, usually the Takashi-Rikuto kiss will wake her but sometimes it doesn't and one of the other two will come back to the room and peck and prod her until she wakes.

Who starts tickle fights

Rikuto starts tickle fights. They usually begin with a double buzz to the sides as he's walking past. Nonchalant until the other person turns on him and then he runs and hides behind someone else, who already knows that he's the one who started it but will play along good-naturedly until they get pulled in to the fight.

Hiroko is the one to finish them. She starts kicking when it gets to too much and one time she almost got Shun so hard he'd been left in a daze for a few minutes

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

When they were in the tiny apartment and the shower could only fit one and a half people no one would shower together, unless they were up for the cold shower wall as well. Now, in their new apartment they can fit three people comfortably and five people if they all squished in. Kazue is the one to third wheel a lot of the time, getting home just in time to wiggle his way into the shower or whatever fun is had.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

Rikuto likes homemaking, he likes cooking. He does try to cook food on most days and he does make extra so they can keep some for lunch the next day. Shun likes to try his hand at making lunch for Rikuto too, he drops it off on the way to the office.

Kazue likes to cook as well, in the most unfortunate way, he doesn't follow a recipe so his cooking is very hit or miss. He can't ever replicate a good meal either as he can never remember how much of what went into where. His lunches are always a surprise.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Hiroko was so nervous about the first five person date, there had been a few of them who had gone on dates in pairs before but the five of them together in one place had been nerve wracking. She barely spoke and shook any kind of touch off, scared of how they would all look to any outsiders.

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Takashi will take out spiders a lot of the time, mainly because Shun and Kazue enjoy the dramatics of being afraid of insects more than actually being afraid of insects. They play off each other too much and become useless about creepy crawlies. Although, if there isn't anyone is pretend for they will take out the spider themselves.

Hiroko and Rikuto don't mind if there's a spider. They'll often just leave them alone.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Kazue.

#naruto online #team 20 #cel writes #this is very reminiscent of my 2017 team 20 ask bait fills #very very fun #im sure that some of this is NOT consistent with other things in this shared universe #simply because i write what would b the most fun #and if it's consistent then i guess tht is the most fun and in character i can think of at quite literally #any given time #so yes #i have my overarching characterisations #but time line who?#consistent sequence of events who?#also i have been getting into this kazue is very messy kick #even tho like canon breeze dancer seems very out tighter #together #i think college au/ modern au kazue would have had some rough times (mess wise)#and i would love to see more of it #me looking into the fandom #oh it's me and null #i guess one of us has to do it then bc it won't magically fall from the sky :(#ugh and honestly i like making takashi #very yearning and wanting #it makes me very happy i think it could come from some kind of broken family thing #to mirror the dead clan thing from ninja world canon #'canon' in quotation marks btw #but still i think it's Very Very compelling to make him that way #also i love to have rikuto be this super fuckn buff dude who is very soft and willing to help w anything #even things he doesn't know anything abt or whatever #i just think his love language is quality time and he expresses his love w acts of service

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katy-l-wood · 1 year

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Okay, so here's the sequence of events:

Bought a decorative barometer for my office in a fit of ADHD-must-buy-something boredom.

Thanks to decorative barometer, I start to realize that my migraines seem to be triggered more by high pressure than low, which is opposite how it works for a lot of people.

Winter rolls around.

My office is cold.

Put space heater in office and curtain over office door to heat office but not the whole apartment, but also allow the cats easy access to their litterbox.

Discover that this configuration SIGNIFICANTLY drops the pressure in my office compared to the rest of the apartment, no matter what the weather is doing.

Realize I have turned my office into something of an anti-migraine or at least migraine-reduction box.

Celebrate?

Today is the first day I've really been able to test this system out, despite suspecting it for a couple weeks. I woke up with a migraine that has gotten progressively worse throughout the day, but I have been working in the livingroom rather than the office because I needed more room.

Finally the migraine got to the point I couldn't really work anymore, and the Ibuprofen wasn't doing shit, so I wandered back into my office and turned on the space heater to drop the pressure so I could see what would happen.

It got better within MINUTES.

It is far from gone, but I no longer feel like I'm getting stabbed in the head either, so. I'm calling it a win. And I'm just gonna...nap on the floor now or something.

#Migraine #Migraines

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norrizzandpia · 6 months

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It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here. (LN4)

Summary: It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

Warnings: language, Lando missing her gravely

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND? I’m so in love with this man this is a national holiday.

“Are you boarding the plane?” Oscar asked Y/n from his side of the phone, his body turned away in the corner of hospitality.

Y/n, the girl murmuring a thank you to the flight attendant scanning her ticket, nodded with a smile, “Yes, I am. How is he? Does he know I’m coming?”

Oscar giggled, “Oh, no way. He’s been moping around all week because he thinks you won’t be here for his birthday. He doesn’t even want to go out on the night of his birthday! We’re in Vegas!”

Y/n laughed along with him, her heart slightly breaking for her boyfriend and his pity party, “Oh, no! Poor Lando. Well, hopefully, he’ll want to go out when he sees me.”

A mechanic tapping Oscar’s shoulder caused him to retreat from the conversation, “Yeah, exactly. Listen, I have to go, but text me when you land.”

Noises of agreement sounded from her as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. Oscar, standing awkwardly in front of his coworker, tried to seem nonchalant.

Jake smiled at him, “They need you in the garage.”

When he was about to walk past him, Jake grabbed Oscar’s arm, “Were you just talking to Y/n?”

Oscar’s heart dropped, plummeting to his feet when the surprise they had been planning for weeks was jeopardized. He shook his head immediately, “No. Not at all.”

Jake nodded slowly, “So, she’s not coming down here to surprise Lando for his birthday after telling him she couldn’t make it to that or the Vegas Grand Prix?”

Oscar sent him a confused look, “No.”

Yes.

—

Stepping off the plane, Y/n felt her palms become slick with the sweat of her nerves. This part of the plan was the hardest, getting to where Lando was without being recognized. With her hood pulled up, sunglasses on, and a mask resting tightly over the bottom half of her face, she weaved her way through crowds of people. Some were wearing Formula 1 merchandise, a few papaya fans sticking out, which brought a small smile to her face in memory of the man she was on her way to see.

Flashes of his sad smile plagued her brain from when she had told him she wouldn’t be able to tag along with him to the Vegas GP like she usually did, missing his birthday in the midst. He had assured her it was okay after she explained that she had an important test for university she couldn’t miss, however Y/n could see it in the way his eyes glazed over that he was trying to hold back begging her to skip it. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, that much she could tell and that much she was grateful for, but after seeing how disappointed he became, his laugh not holding its usual luster, she went to the professor to beg herself. She had explained to him the situation, even “jokingly” offering him free F1 paddock tickets in exchange for letting her take the test at a later date. By some miracle, or more genuinely by her professor’s kindheartedness, he told her that, because her grade was so strong, he would allow her to take it the week after she came back from her weekend in Nevada. He had laughed, praised her devotion toward her boyfriend, and told her that he was a fan of Lando himself, rooting for his coming win every race. The man had been so accommodating, Y/n had almost cried in front of him in his office, but she settled for crying in the privacy of the bathroom down the hall.

After that, she called Oscar, the boy letting out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to handle Lando without his girlfriend and agreeing to help her surprise him.

Then, like a sequence of events, things fell into place. The McLaren marketing team caught wind of their plan and forced them to allow them to videotape the entire event, mentioning how fans would obsess over new Y/n and Lando content.

So, she found herself sliding into the backseat of a private driver for McLaren workings, with their camera man, John, sitting beside her.

She had met him before, multiple times considering how much time he spent with Lando, so the atmosphere was already comfortable.

John turned on the camera, the red light flickering as he asked, “So, how are you feeling?”

She smiled, “Good, excited to see him.”

John chuckled, “And who is ‘him’? Explain to the fans what we are doing.”

Y/n nodded, picking at the fraying edges of Lando’s hoodie she was wearing, “I am surprising Lando for his birthday! I just got off the plane from Monaco, landed here in Las Vegas, and, now, we are on our way to drop my stuff off at the hotel and then get ready to go see him! Originally, I wasn’t supposed to come, obviously, because I had a test I needed to take for my class, but my teacher, being the sweetest person to grace this Earth, allowed me an extension.”

John hummed, “And how do you think he will react?”

She let her head fall back on the seat behind her, smiling to herself at her predictions, “I think he’ll probably freak out. He’s always one for drama, don’t think that will change this time around.”

The camera shook lightly with John’s laughter, the two giggling over the driver. They shook their heads and rambled on about past instances where he’d blown minor things out of proportion. Promptly, Y/n compared herself and the surprise in store as something minor, but John was quick to disagree.

“You are so far from minor to that boy.”

—

The Hiltons that McLaren always put their workers up at always amazed Y/n. Being a broke college student who had barely scraped enough money together to study abroad in Monaco, her jaw was always on the floor when she walked through the doors and was met with the crystal chandelier, the granite floors, and grand vases of beautiful, colorful tulips and roses. Nonetheless, she had gotten slightly used to it after being with Lando for two years. She would always remember the first time he brought her along to a race, her staying in his room with the gigantic balcony accompanied by a jacuzzi and pool. He had told her it wouldn’t be anything special, but was proved wrong when they were given keys to the penthouse. She had gawked and gasped, all things Lando laughed at, while wandering through the rooms.

That weekend was ingrained into her mind as the introduction to Lando’s world.

John, camera by his side, conversed with the concierge as he checked her into Lando’s room. They had to be incredibly sly. They knew once Y/n surprised him, Lando wouldn’t settle for anything but her sleeping in his room. So, they wanted to solve that problem earlier, having Y/n drop her bags off in his room before everything unraveled.

They just needed to make sure he wasn’t there.

They just needed to make sure they didn’t disturb anything in the room, hiding her bags in the closet and hoping for the best.

When the receptionist validated Y/n’s identity, she gave them a key to his room. It was silent in the elevator as they climbed the floors, only having it being cut when her phone buzzed.

She reached down and turned it over, seeing a text from Oscar.

Oscar

DONT COME UP YET! WE HAVENT LEFT HIS ROOM

“Shit!” She yelped, typing furiously over the keyboard in response.

John turned the camera on, not wanting a moment to go to waste, “What’s going on?”

She turned her head, looking at him in a panic, “They’re still in his room!”

Their faces dropped, hearts pounding, as the elevator doors dinged and began opening. Lando’s voice filtered through the doors, along with Oscar’s. The two men were bickering.

“Lando, you’re taking so fucking long! Move your ass!” Oscar said, annoyed and very clearly agitated.

Lando groaned, “I don’t want to go out! Leave me alone!”

John’s mouth was on the floor at the footage he was getting as Y/n and him slid into the penthouse, trying desperately to find a hiding place.

She picked up her suitcase, however heavy, and walked carefully down a separate hallway that seemed to lead to a closet.

The two were close to getting there, out of sight, when Lando’s footsteps sounded close to them, rapidly approaching their location.

“Did the elevator just open?! I heard it!”

Y/n held her breath as she and John ran like hell into the first room they could find, it being a guest bedroom. She locked the door, listening intently to whatever was unfolding on the other side.

Oscar seemed to be feet away from her, “No, mate, it fucking didn’t. Now, can we leave? We have your birthday dinner to go to!”

Lando scoffed, “Fine, but if there is an intruder in my room and they end up stealing all my stuff, you’re paying for it.”

Knowing it was Y/n and the cameraman, Oscar nodded along, “Sure, mate.”

The elevator dinged once more with the two of them ready for departure, Lando giving, “And, for the record, I don’t even know why we’re going to a dinner for my birthday. I told you my birthday won’t be the same without Y/n. I told you I didn’t want to celebrate it if she wasn’t here.”

Y/n could see Lando’s pouty demeanor in her head along with Oscar’s dismissive face as he retorted, “Uh huh.”

—-

Thankfully, the rest of it all had gone smoothly. Dropping her things off after they left, getting ready, and getting to the restaurant all went according to plan.

In the last moments in the car before Lando was made aware of the things going on behind his back, John brought out the camera, “How you doing?”

Y/n nodded slowly, “Kind of nervous?” She giggled, shaking her head, “I don’t know. I just hope he didn’t catch on or anything.”

John blew a raspberry, “No way he did. I mean, that hotel thing was a super close call, but he didn’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t know.”

His words reassured her and, as they turned the corner with the destination seconds away, she said one last thing to the camera, “Lando, if you ever end up watching this, I don’t know if you watch these, I just want you to know I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I hope you know I will stop at nothing to spend your birthday with you. You’re a fool for thinking I wouldn’t be here. I know I can say all of these things when I see you because I’m about to, but I think this just has a different impact. Plus it lets everybody know you’re mine. By the way, next time, take a shorter amount of time to get ready please. Jesus Christ, you gave me a heart attack earlier today when I had to run around your hotel room and find a hiding place because you wouldn’t leave.”

At that, the valet opened her door and she stepped out. John kept the footage going, knowing they would arrive at the grand finale any moment, and followed her into the establishment.

She walked up to the hostesses, the two women smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m here for the Norris reservation. I’m a bit late, I know, but I’m surprising the birthday boy.”

The workers’ faces lit up in realization, “Oh, you’re the girlfriend? His friend, the Australian, sorry I forgot his name, told us you would be coming. Right this way, miss.”

The brunette turned around and began walking toward the back, toward a private room. She made light conversation along the way, mentioning that Lando had spent the majority of their waiting for the table rambling about how much he wanted to call Y/n.

She was blushing by the time they stopped outside of the door that led to where the party was, thanking the woman for directing them and moving to face John.

“Ready?” She asked, looking at the camera to make sure that red light was blinking.

He nodded, “Always.”

She took a deep breath and opened the door lightly. Lando’s back was to her, Max, Oscar, and his parents facing her. She could tell they were trying to hold in their excitement as Lando retold a story about her and him getting ice cream one night at 3 AM. Their smiles were just barely being withheld from their faces as she waved to them softly and John stationed himself at an angle where the camera could see Lando’s reaction when he turned around.

He continued on, blissfully unaware of the girl behind him, “And then she said this really funny joke! Oh, crap, I can’t remember what it was. It was some cheesy dad joke about ice cream and I remember laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. Shit, what was it?”

A silence mulled over as he tried to remember, Y/n noticing her perfect cue, “I said, ‘why are popsicles so snobby?’ And you said you didn’t know, so I said, “they have a stick up their butt’. I’m pretty sure you did pee your pants laughing.”

She saw the way Lando’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was holding. He froze, “Am I going insane or is Y/n standing behind me?”

Cisca, the woman smiling from ear to ear, “She’s behind you, love.”

The glass came clattering down as he shot up from his chair and turned around wide-eyed.

“Y/N!” He screamed, running over to her and forcefully crashing into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She laughed loudly as he kissed her neck aggressively, a thousand times over again. She let her arms intertwine around his neck and her hands tangle in his hair, whispering, “Happy birthday, baby. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you so much. You deserve all this and more.”

He pulled away, eyes glossy as he stared down at her and held her to him, “I missed you so much.”

She smiled back, “It’s only been a week, Lan.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, and that’s way too fucking long.”

She nodded as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, his friends whooping behind him teasingly.

He pecked her lips innocently, saving what he really wanted to do for the later part of the night, and led her to the table.

John and Y/n took their rightful seats, teeth on display at the success of their plan. John, being the perfect cameraman, continued to catch moments shared between the couple throughout the rest of the night. Lando’s hand interlocked with hers on the table, his kiss to her over the gift she got him, the way his hands securely held her hips on the side of the road while they waited for their car, the way he hugged her and whispered in her ear how happy he was to have her there with him, and everything in between.

Sweet, gentle instances that showed everyone just how in love the two were. Lando’s soft eyes resting on hers when she came into view was something that every fan couldn’t let go of the week later when it was posted. Everyone fawned over the two like they were destined to be together, fated in the stars.

Because they were and they always would be.

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911-ls-whats-your-emergency · 19 days

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Has anyone written this season from Tommy’s POV yet?? Because if so please tag me, but in the meantime I just had to outline the crazy sequence of events from his POV:

- Haven’t heard from the 118 in years and suddenly Howie is asking me to fly them into a hurricane

- But also we gotta wait for Hen but you’re gonna need to go get her so we can dramatically surprise her from inside the helicopter

- Can’t believe these losers were actually right and we just found an overturned cruise ship

- Start talking to Eddie in the aftermath and have so much in common, exchange numbers so we can hang out

- A day later Evan Buckley calls the station and asks if he can come by for a tour whenever I’ve got some free time and he seems cool too so why not

- My buddy in Vegas gets awesome tickets to the fight and convinces me to fly out and hey Eddie mentioned he’s into MMA right?

- Evan is super excited about everything but also doesn’t really seem like he’d actually want to switch stations so that’s odd - but hey flying is awesome and I can’t resist a little eye candy so I’ll offer to teach him

- Fight is awesome. Eddie is awesome. New friends are awesome and it’s rare that you have so much in common with someone so we are BFFs now

- Vibes at basketball were strange?? Apparently Evan doesn’t usually play but he shows up and gets really intense and I end up having to take Eddie to get his ankle patched up

- Painkiller!Eddie starts mumbling about how this is all his fault and he knows how Buck gets jealous and….oh now I feel bad

- Let me go to Evan’s place and clear the air - didn’t mean to cause all this drama I just wanted all the new friends

- I might be reading this wrong but Evan is flirting with me…? While also talking about Eddie way too much??

- Okay he is definitely flirting with me but also I am still not convinced he was jealous over me

- But also how can you not kiss a guy like that when he’s flirting with you and then rambling??

- Damn I really hope that was okay because I did not give him a lot of warning

- 😁😁 it was okay

- Gotta get out of here before I get distracted by kissing this man and miss my shift

- But can’t let Evan overthink it too much so make sure I secure a date before I go

- Oops almost forgot I came here to fix what I broke between him and Eddie - one last reminder and we’re good!

- Can’t wait for Saturday…

#buddie #bucktommy #911 abc #911 on fox #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinkley

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grunckle · 2 months

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Qualia and Ascension in Rain World

(To clarify I'm mostly talking about base-game lore and not including Downpour, but honestly most of these things can transfer over)

Qualia

One thing that’s relatively hidden in Rain World’s text and subtext is the concept of qualia. Qualia is described as being, “sensory experiences that have distinctive subjective qualities but lack any meaning or external reference to the objects or events that cause them.” It’s a personal sensory experience that cannot be comprehended by another person other than the individual themself, and are often hard to convey via language.

Qualia is a reoccurring motif in Rain World, but what’s more important is the way in which it’s conveyed to the player. The picture that’s painted is that of a world or civilization that placed a great importance on the individuals’ experience, and it’s shown through pearls or environmental details.

Here are some examples of qualia appearing in the text through pearls.

“It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone, and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.”

“A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.”

“This one... is authored by Five Pebbles, when he was young. There has been an attempt to scramble the data, but it's sloppily done, and most is still somewhat legible. It's written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand.”

But the most prominent examples of qualia and it’s importance in this world are the Memory Crypts and possibly ancient naming conventions. The deep purple pearl (shortened) found in Shaded Citadel states,

“In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids (…) Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane. The assorted memories and qualia include:”

Ancients likely mutated their own neural tissue into the cabinet beasts we see in Shaded, which were used to store their memories and qualia before ascension. Even james said once "how 5 pebs got the rot is a good hint here" in response to someone asking how cabinet beasts work, and how they're made.

Adding on to this, ancient (and iterator) naming conventions seem to be built off of the concept of qualia, with them focusing on individual images or experiences.

Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections

Droplets upon Five Large Droplets

Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

Looks to the Moon

Generally, this all points to a world focused on the expression and preservation of the individual experience. You could even consider some of the echo dialogue as more evidence for this running motif, but I already have too many quotes lol.

Ascension

So now time to talk about my interpretation of ascension. In short, you turn into a worm, but I should probably explain more than that.

So its been surfacing on rw-tumblr that the light in the end of the game is called the egg in files. Although file names shouldn't be taken as fact or canon, it is pretty obvious given the birth imagery.

But something a little lesser known is what happens to the worm that takes us down to the void-sea depths. Void worms normally have a bright glowing effect, on their body, which is present for ours as well. But after it unhooks us, it swims down, and when it passes us on it's way back that glowing effect is gone.

To be honest, I don't really think this can be interpreted in many ways, but the most obvious one and the one I personally subscribe to is that the worm laid the egg. Biology and spirituality really aren't that different in Rain World, it's implied that karma is stored in the brain through Five Pebbles's slideshow. Adding on to that, we see voidspawn after eating an iterator neuron. One's spiritual state is innately tied to their mental state, and that dictates what and what they can't perceive.

And for that reason I decide to take a more biology leaning approach to what happens in the ending. At face value, we are fertilizing the egg of a void worm to be reborn into a voidspawn.

Not only do void spawn and void worms have multiple characteristics in common, (worm like bodies, tendrils/tentacles, glowing heads, void spawn look microbial and void worms are likely some of the oldest "life" in game)

but voidspawn are seen inside egg-like coverings and share the same egg light seen in the end of the game, confirmed to be the same thing by Videocult in a livestream they did.

I believe that all this points to ascension being re-birth into a voidspawn, which eventually undergoes metamorphose into a worm. Higher-dimensional beings, who manifest and give birth to a new world.

So how does this tie in with qualia? Another thing you might know is that the area in which void spawn are most plentiful is Shaded Citadel and areas in Shoreline near Shaded. And shaded is absolutely packed with Cabinet Beasts, even outside Memory Crypts. I believe these qualia-storing creatures are what manifest voidspawn.

From what we see in ascension, it still looks physical and largely based around the real world. Hunter still has his scars and see's an iterator, survivor sees the slug tree in a more mystical and formless state, and monk sees survivor frankly just looking like a normal slugcat. I think that ascension is a product of qualia. We transcend our earthly knowledge via the egg, and our own qualia is used to give birth to a new world. This is why voidspawn appear most in Shaded Citadel.

Now I won't be getting into Void-Worm theories too much here, I'm mostly focused on ascension but I can't ignore the Gnosticism parallels. For those who don't know, Void Worms heavily resemble the Yaldaboath from Gnosticism, along with sharing some similar celestial motifs.

and running with that some people theorize that, like the Yaldabaoth, void worms are responsible for manifesting the material world. Ascension seems to be a mix of the concepts of Gnosis and Nirvana, but I believe it might lean more on Gnosis.

From my limited knowledge, Gnosis is a few things, some of which being a state achieved from experiences or intuitions, and an essential part to salvation is personal knowledge. While researching a bit, I came across this text by Peter Wilberg called "From NEW AGE to NEW GNOSIS" which brings up some comparisons between Gnosticism and qualia as well.

"Gnosis is subjective knowledge of an inner universe made up not of matter, energy, space or time but of countless qualitative spheres or ‘planes’ of awareness – a knowledge obtained directly through inter- subjective resonance. It is the subjective science of this inner universe."

One thing though that has been brought up when discussing this is how this can be consolidated with the tone of the ending. It is pretty un-ambiguously happy, but if we're going with the Void worm Yaldaboath theory then that would put a bit of a sour twist on it right?

I agreed with these for some time, but now I actually think it ties in perfectly with Rain World's core themes as stated by the devs, "overcoming differences and finding empathy." I don't think the void worms are "evil" or malevolent, but I think they (and subsequently us after ascending) play a key role in demonstrating this theme.

By manifesting the physical world, we allow these souls to experience life and develop their own qualia so one day they can ascend themselves. We are shown compassion, and pass it forward.

#rain world #rain world lore #lore #rain world spoilers #gnosticism #gnosis

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nariism · 5 months

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ink to paper — k. ayato

mutual/oblivious pining + "don't look at me that way."

synopsis. yes, he thinks. what would he do without you? well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. and he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @kruinka and @ph-xntasy / @yuellii 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

You've cut his apples into petit rabbits today.

The ink at the end of Ayato's brush has soaked through his page at least three times since he started scribing, big globs of black ruining what could have been a beautiful sequence. And the culprits for distracting him taunt him with their little red ears.

In fact, they've been sitting for so long that the flesh of the fruit is starting to brown. How long has he been unproductively glancing up and down between his paper and his breakfast?

He had told you that they were in season as a passing comment the last time he saw you—nothing more than a throwaway line to make conversation. Yet here you are, showing up at his table with a tray of his usual breakfast and something extra. Something hand-crafted and too cute for him to even fathom putting into his mouth.

It seemed that you had a special place in your memory for him. He could bring up the smallest wish and it would show up on his desk the next day.

It was your job to know him inside and out, after all. Your sole duty as his scheduler. Even so, you made time to do things outside of your job description if only to please him. You always looked so happy to see him, too. He's starting to wonder if you have a crush on him.

He glances at his clock. While he is busy with work, what harm would a few minutes do if he were to be a little distracted?

Kamisato Ayato cannot cook.

He remembers fondly the only time he had ever demonstrated his kitchen skills to you. After unpacking his favourite tempura from Uyuu restaurant, he proceeded to line the shrimp up on a plate and decorate it.

You found humour in his apparent lack of expertise in the kitchen, chalking it up to his spoiled upbringing. He hadn't believed you then, thinking that you were being too harsh as well as too distracted by the melody of your laugh to bother dwelling on it. But now he's here, trying to do something as simple as cutting apples and failing miserably.

What spurred him on to do this in the first place is beyond him. Maybe he thought that the smile on your face when you saw his efforts would be worth all the trouble, or perhaps he was seeking your approval since he admired your ever-growing list of skills.

From servant to sparring partner to cook to personal scheduler, you were quickly making yourself a regular part of his day. He envied your adaptability, having little opportunity as a noble to try.

He figured this would be a chance to start. To learn, if it were to make you happy or proud.

Oh dear. Who knew cutting apples was such a daunting task?

Ayato thought this would be simple—cut some apples into cute shapes, make you smile, perhaps keep you around a bit longer to discuss it than you would usually stay. (Lately, he's been craving to hear your voice more and more.)

But this blade is tiny, unlike his hefty sword. It's too nimble for his fingers, and he's sure he has nicked himself at least a dozen times by now.

If you were here, you'd probably scold him for being so careless. And you'd set aside time in your busy day to help him, he's sure. It's in your nature to be kind which makes him miss you all the more.

Just as he's about to give up and call it quits, the door slides open.

Archons. He's been so engrossed in his woes that he had forgotten it was almost time for your scheduled meeting to go over his other plans for the week.

The scraps of peel and sloppily shaped apple slices are so incriminating that he doesn't even bother hiding it. You both stare at each other from across the table, completely unblinking and still.

"Um..." You strain out, clearly attempting to hide your amusement. "Hello."

He coughs awkwardly, placing down the paring knife and trying to uphold as much dignity as he possibly can.

"Hello," he greets, unable to meet your gaze anymore. "My apologies. Our meeting slipped my mind."

You gently pluck a rabbit from the plate, rotating it around in your fingers to get a better look. They're sloppy, for sure, with jagged edges and tiny slits where you know his knife slipped. And they don't even resemble anything remotely close to rabbits in the first place, more like blocky V-shaped thingamabobs.

You glance up and down between the rabbit and the man behind it, who looks strangely flustered considering his usually calm temperament.

"Don't look at me that way," he says quietly, wooden end of the blade gently knocking against the table as he deflates.

"Are these... bunnies?" You ask him in bewilderment.

"They are... supposed to be rabbits, yes."

Complete silence fills the room until Ayato feels as if he can't breathe. Coupled with the way your eyes are scrutinizing his attempts, he wants nothing more than to melt away.

And then you laugh. You can't stop laughing, it seems. Doubled over onto the table and fighting for air between giggles.

He can't help the softening of his expression, the warmth in his chest. If this is all it took to get you to smile like that, then who cares how embarrassing it is that he can't even cut fruit correctly?

You round the table, plopping down next to him. Oh no. He can't control his racing heart when you're leaning in so close to him, so close that he can feel the rumble of your laughter in his own body.

With your shoulders pressed together, body resting comfortably against his, you take the blade and slice of apple from his hands.

"I'll show you how," you offer. He watches intently as you make the first shallow slits through the peel, then gently slide the knife across the top. Too busy admiring your skillful hands, he almost instantly blurts out:

"Can you please show me again?"

You look at him funny, brows pinched but a smile still seeping across your face. You show him another time, expertly cutting another slice. And another. And another.

Unconsciously, or perhaps following the quiet voice in his heart, his head falls atop yours. You sink into him, allowing him to rest against you without complaint.

"Hm, am I your personal comforter now?"

"I suppose you are."

"You know, if you actually pay attention you might be able to make your own breakfast."

"Mm..." He hums when your hands don't stop moving despite your words. Instead, you laugh again. And again, there's the ever familiar thrum of his heart.

"Oh, dear Commissioner. What would you do without me?"

Yes, he thinks. What would he do without you?

Well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. He's far too busy to keep track of it all on top of his other work. And he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

He would rather you keep him company anyway, bunnies and all.

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin ayato #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato x gender neutral reader #ayato x gn reader #genshin fic #genshin drabbles

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lilacsandpetals · 2 months

Text

Frozen Blossoms

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 7

Last part here

Bi-Han x F! Reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW (but some suggestive themes), exploring emotions, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Warnings: NSFW, violent thoughts kinda?

As you returned, you had fallen asleep in Bi-Han’s arms, so you don’t exactly remember when you got home. Everything seemed like a blur as you tried to make sense of what happened, all the while medics had been tending to your sustained wounds. Most of the lacerations were minor. A few cuts, some scrapes, and unsightly bruises were present, but you didn’t consider it that alarming. Then there was the sprain your ankle sustained, which would be unpleasant to manage. But that would heal within a few weeks, as long as you rest, that is. You could manage the physical wounds. That wasn’t the main thing that was bothering you. It was more so trying to grasp what had just happened, the stress, and the plethora of other emotions that came wrapped up with it.

Sometime after all the commotion you found yourself lying on your bed, cleaned up, and with a change of clothes. You appeared much better, truly you were anything but. Your head was aching, you felt almost nauseous as you replayed the sequence of events over in your head again and again. It was as if you were working yourself into feeling ill. It was odd, you didn’t want to think about it, you wanted to pretend that it didn’t happen. That it was some type of horrid dream. Yet your brain drifted back to it almost constantly; going over what had occurred and what you could’ve done to avoid it.

A part of you felt ashamed. You felt as if you caused such a hassle. And maybe you felt embarrassed too, you started your training here shortly after you married, and yet when you needed it, you couldn’t put any of your knowledge or training to use. How were you supposed to live up to your status? Did the rest of the clan think less of you?

You didn’t think any of this could be a possibility when you had gotten married. It just never occurred to you. You should’ve thought it over more seriously before marrying him. But back then you were actively trying to avoid thinking about the marriage altogether, you were running away from your impending future. How foolish of you. Maybe you would have been more mentally prepared if you had been realistic and rational. It was an unspoken expectation to expect risks in your position, and now you are suffering more than you would have, had you taken the time to process that fact.

But you’re tired now, and you don’t want to think about it. You want it to stop. So you try to sleep. You close your eyes and hope this is all a bad dream.

——————————

This wasn’t a dream.

It was more like a nightmare, that’s what it felt like for Bi-Han. It all happened too quickly. Nothing he considered suspicious had occurred when he accompanied you. And he had thought that slipping away for a moment would be fine. He was so focused on trying to find the perfect gift for you, something that would suit you, that he didn’t realize what had happened until a fire erupted. Screams and the commotion of fleeing civilians took over his senses as he scanned the area for you. He had helped some people avoid injury, leading and practically pushing them away from harm. Maybe he could have been more considerate but he wasn’t particularly focused on them. Perhaps it was selfish, but he was solely concentrated on finding you.

But you disappeared quickly, and from that point on, he knew the fire was a calculated distraction. He rapidly returned home to recruit his brothers’ assistance in locating who could have stolen you away from him. And he was quick to deduct that a rival clan had kept you as a hostage. At least that’s what he hoped. Because he knew rivalries were rarely kind affairs. And that the quicker you were killed, the faster new bridal prospects would be offered up to secure new alliances.

He doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to think about it. That’s why he wastes no time tracking you down. He leaves Kuai Liang and Tomas to collect notable evidence as they rampage through the worn-down building. He’ll need it to quell any problems that may arise from the bloodshed he is about to partake in. He is devoid of mercy as his bloodlust takes over his every action, allowing it to steer him like the strings of a puppet. His heart beats widely, Kuai Liang and Tomas have gone ahead of him, searching for you. And he’ll have to thank them after this is over. He needs you to be alive. You have to be, but a part of him is fearful as he breaks through the door where his brothers’ voices filter through.

And there you were. Alive, scared, and disheveled.

He hasn’t felt such an odd mix of relief and sadness before.

So when he gathers you up in his arms to return home, he tries to remain calm, like he is composed, even though he is anything but. He is glad you felt comfortable enough to doze off as he carried you back home, but as he thinks back on it, you were more than likely just exhausted. When he handed you off to the medics you had woken up abruptly, gripping his arm with such desperation that it made his stoic face finally falter. He couldn’t hide the frown that made its way to his face as he tried his best to comfort you, assure you that he was in the room, that he was not going anywhere, and that the medical staff had to make sure you were okay. And when he reluctantly let you go, he couldn’t help but feel that he disappointed you.

He keeps a watchful eye as your wounds are tended to, and when you’re being bathed and dressed by a few select maids he slips away to fill in the Grandmaster on what has happened. On his way there, he pulls the hairpin from his pocket, eyeing it for a moment before hastily shoving it away. He doesn’t want to look at it right now.

——————————

The days pass by, some more quickly than others. Your wounds slowly healed, although a few of the cuts manifested into unsightly scars. Thankfully your ankle was healing in a timely manner.

And Bi-Han was at your side through it all. Ever the dutiful husband. He was attentive, keeping an eye on you, tending to any need before you even had the chance to ask. He was patient with you. His hands were gentle whenever he helped change any bandages or the binding on your ankle.

But he was quiet. More so than usual.

You would try to make conversation, but he seemed adamant about keeping your verbal interactions brief. You asked if he’d want to drink tea with you in the mornings and evenings. He used to say yes and you two would converse, even if he was busy. Now you were met with quick and polite refusals. You’d ask him about his day, he’d be to the point, barely elaborating on anything the way he once did. You felt as if the only times your conversations were extensive were when they revolved around your injuries and healing process. The sense of intimacy you both shared seemed to be rapidly deteriorating as well. The other night you lazily turned to him in your bed. He was looking at you, not a word left his lips. You whispered a simple goodnight and leaned it slightly, just to place a chaste kiss on his skin. But he tilted his face down, slightly away from you. You figured he was tired, yet you feared it was something else.

It perplexed you. He maintained the same level of kindness, but you felt as if there was a disconnect. Was he angry at you? Or maybe disappointed? It wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you had asked to be kidnapped. But maybe if you were better equipped, better prepared, then it would’ve never happened. And if it never happened maybe you two could have been closer by now. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so far away even when he’s in the same damn room as you.

His demeanor had added to the myriad of thoughts that circled through your mind like clockwork. It was exhausting. You placed a hand on your forehead as you lay in your bed. You wanted so badly for it to stop, but these thoughts always lingered in the back of your head. And tonight was no different. On occasion it seeps into your dreams, conjuring up different scenarios of what could have been. Scenarios where Bi-Han didn’t come to your aid in time or where he explicitly makes his distaste of you known. It makes you wake up in a cold sweat. To which Bi-Han would promptly awaken as well. He would reassure you that you were safe within the Lin Kuei’s walls and that he was by your side before urging you to go back to sleep.

If this one event was enough to rattle you, it made you wonder if Bi-Han ever had any nightmares. He had seen and endured far more than you ever had. Did it ever bother him? Did it ever disturb his sleep? Now that you think of it, he only ever fell asleep after you were sound asleep. Other than the past days, you rarely ever woke up in the middle of the night, so you weren’t aware of him dealing with any nightmares, if he did suffer any at all. Some semblance of guilt settled in your stomach. Maybe you should be more attentive in that way, or at least check up on him more often. This incident opened your eyes to the reality of his line of work. Of course, you knew the Lin Kuei are a fierce clan but it was different when you had experienced it firsthand. You didn’t know how gruesome their outings could be, it made you worry for him more than you did before.

At that moment, the image of Bi-Han coming to your rescue comes to mind. He was doused in the shade of red that day. You could scarcely see the blue and black shades of his clothing. Splotches of blood had been splattered across his cheek and forehead. When he carried you back you had noticed the dried blood stuck under his fingernails, was that his blood or someone else’s? You had a feeling it wasn't his. He was capable of a level of brutality that you weren’t fully aware of prior. And the image of your husband practically soaked in someone’s else blood is seared into your mind.

Although, it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would.

Was that a bad thing? You couldn’t tell.

——————————

Bi-Han thinks that you haven't been yourself lately, but he doesn’t blame you. You always seem lost in thought, your facial expressions oscillate between concentrated or dissociated. You often had a headache or just didn’t feel well. He thinks it’s still the shock of the incident getting to you.

And today is no different.

A migraine had taken hold of you today and so staying confined to your bed seemed all too enticing. It was becoming a bad habit. Technically your body was healing and you should be getting back into the regular flow of your lessons, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get right back to it. You know you should, it’d help you be better prepared for future endeavors, and maybe it would serve as a good distraction. But lately, your motivation has been lacking. So again you’ve found yourself isolated, staying in your room more often than not.

But your head hurts and you feel slightly nauseous, so it’s more comfortable to stay in bed than venture out. The majority of the day is spent going in and out of sleep.

Bi-Han enters the room quietly. He’s been busy lately, trying to better himself. Taking up more responsibility from his father in managing the clan, and training more often.

It’s for your sake, really. That is what he tells himself.

But he’s taking a break from his busy schedule. He just wants to see if you’ve eaten yet. Much to his dismay there is a tray of untouched food at your bedside, while you lay buried under a layer of cotton blankets.

You were falling asleep again, trying not to mull over the same worries that had been eating away at you for days. Your eyes were closed but you felt a dip in the bed and a hand brush up against your forehead before it gently pet your hair. You knew it was Bi-Han. It was comforting when he was near, you felt far safer with him than you did with anyone else. You didn’t open your eyes, your eyelids felt too heavy and your body was being lulled to sleep, but a small smile briefly graced your lips. He caught sight of it.

He was satisfied that you were getting some sleep at the very least, he’d often have to soothe you back to sleep after you’d wake up in a panic from nightmares plaguing you in the dark of night. Every time you endured another nightmare, he felt his guilt increase. However, you currently looked peaceful, and seeing your smile just now gave him a sense of satisfaction, or rather what he’d come to know as just plain happiness.

But did he deserve that happiness?

It scares him that he was undoubtedly close to not being able to see you smile again. He retracts his hand, and you don’t react. He figures that you must be asleep now. His back leans against the headboard of the bed, while his eyes drag down to take in your form.

He has not spent much time with you since that day. Part of him yearned for you, and yet part of him was keen on avoiding you.

He didn’t realize he would take such a liking to you when he married you, but he grew weak to your presence. Soon enough he found himself intoxicated with you. The small delights of your smile, your touch, your softly spoken words, they had taken hold of him. You had become precious to him. And when softening his heart towards you, he failed to realize the anguish he would suffer had you ever been taken away from him.

It’s as if he could feel himself shutting down. Building up a wall against the harm you might do to him. Because the fact that the very things he adored about you were finite, that you would not be here forever, terrified him.

Pathetic.

He wanted to avoid the hurt. Shield himself from an uncertain future. It wasn’t his intention. He didn’t even notice the visceral response, at first anyway. Of course, he took care of you, but he limited himself. He didn’t speak to you as often, as if to punish and protect himself simultaneously. He was hesitant. Why attach himself any more than he already was? It only posed a greater risk to him. And now his own lack of competency reveals a rotten core that causes him to be egocentric yet again. To slowly start pushing you away again despite your needs and despite the desires that lay in the crevices of his heart.

For a lingering moment, he thinks of his father. How his father must’ve hurt when his mother died.

His father really loved his mother, didn’t he?

He misses his mother.

She was a strong woman, honorable and resilient. As a child, he always thought his mother would be there. He was exposed to the concept of death at a very young age, but he never thought it would pertain to his family. As he grew older he understood that perhaps there would be a risk of death in battle. He’d seen his clanmates perish and witnessed his father slaughter their enemies and those who threatened Earthrelm. And then he partook in those activities himself when he was just barely blooming into adolescence. He never anticipated death to come to him or one of his loved ones through illness. And yet he was served just that. No matter how strong his mother was, no matter how mindful she was, she was betrayed by her own body. And he was powerless to stop it. He felt as if she slipped through his fingers. He hated watching her wither away bit by bit. He despised how helpless and fearful he had felt back then. He hadn’t felt that type of despair until that fire erupted and you disappeared from his sight.

And after his mother passed, nothing ever felt the same anymore. His father said time would heal their wounds. But he found his father to be dishonest because not a day went by where he wouldn’t ponder the fantasy of a life where his mother lived a healthy life.

Some reality where his mother didn’t frantically scold him for weeping about her misfortune. Where his father didn’t push him exponentially harder than his brothers. Where he didn’t have to watch his father fall apart in private. Where he didn’t have to bear the burden of his father’s anguish-fueled training, and where he didn’t have to tend to Kuai Liang’s sadness at the expense of his own grieving process. He buried that grief within him, and it somehow found its way to seep out of him.

Maybe it wasn’t just grief.

Some immature, boyish part of him was angry. Upset that his mother left him to bear so much on his own.

Anger was such a familiar emotion to him, But this anger felt different. Taking root and creeping out of a part of himself that he seldom shows anyone.

He was angry that his mother left him. And he was furious at himself for still being hurt over it. It was immature and unbecoming of him. Perhaps that was the same anger he felt towards you, he abhorred the fact that you had grown to be of such importance to him. He hated that you could cause him to delve into that ever-familiar fear and worry once more. He hated that you could have left him.

But truly, it’s all misguided, and deep down he knows it.

If he is being honest, he detests himself for feeling the way he does.

There’s a rustling of the bedsheets and Bi-Han is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you gasp.

“What is it?” he asks in a rather urgent tone.

Your eyes flutter open and you move to slowly sit up, you take a few deep breaths and instinctively grip his forearm, his hand is slow as he moves to place it over yours. The sudden nature of your awakening leads him to believe you must’ve experienced a glimpse of another nightmare, and he can’t bring himself to ask you if you’ve dreamt about the incident again. If you’re dreaming about his shortcomings again. He knows he is tactless. If you bring up the nightmare, he will assure you again that it will not happen, as he has done in nights prior. It’s almost amusing that as many times as he has reassured you, his own confidence falters bit by bit.

If you do not bring up any distressing dreams, he will not push you to disclose anything.

“Are you hurt?” he mumbles. You shake your head, but wince when you try to move your foot. “The wraps on my ankle are bothering me, I just want to take them off for a little while,” you say softly and lean forward but Bi-Han lightly waves his hand. “I will do it.”

You lean back and Bi-Han raises your foot as he unwraps the binding. He moves your foot from side to side slowly, as he’s no stranger to a sprained ankle. “The binding is bothering you more because you haven’t been elevating your foot enough. The more often you keep it elevated, the less swollen it’ll be,” he says and grabs a small pillow to place under your foot.

“Thank you,” you respond and shoot him a smile. “I appreciate all the help.”

“It’s my duty, is it not?”

You bite your lip. You appreciated his help, but you thought by now he’d give you a different answer. Something that alluded to a suggestion of care or affection. You thought he would ask if you’ve had another nightmare (you did). But you awoke to his presence and it is comforting enough to know that he is by your side. Yet the air feels thick in your lungs as you acknowledge that his words are minimal. He asks no questions despite the knowing look in his eyes.

You sigh quietly, “Duty is everything, hm?”

His eyes meet yours for an uncomfortable moment. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You properly sit up now. “You know when we married I initially performed out of duty. But now it’s out of care. I care about you Bi-Han.” You want to say more, add a more potent word to showcase your feelings for him, but you bite your tongue.

“And you think I don’t care about you? Why else would your well-being concern me?” He tosses the wraps to the floor and you can’t help but think your statement has struck a nerve.

You cross your arms, “do not twist my words.”

He looks towards you, a small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as fast. “Haven’t I proven myself to you? I watch over you day and night, I take care of you.”

A retort lays at the tip of your tongue but you refrain from speaking. Technically, he was speaking the truth. Yet you desired something more. Maybe you were misconstruing things? But no. You knew something was off. So you hold his gaze and shake your head. “Yes, you have. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You’re hesitant for a moment. “Is everything alright?”

The question catches him off guard. Have you noticed any change? He has attempted to maintain the air of normalcy as much as possible. “Yes.”

You wanted to give him a chance to voice his concerns. “Are you sure?” You ask quietly. You know something is off, but how much were you meant to push him on the subject? Bi-Han places his hand on your shoulder “I am certain.”

You lay your hand over his and squeeze it gently, “If you say so.”

You don’t believe him.

——————————

There’s a full moon that just barely shines through the window of the kitchen. You’ve always found it lovely, a peaceful and comforting sight. It’s a stark contrast to the tea kettle screeching above a small flame on the stove.

You take longer than usual to remove it from the heat.

You’d much rather be in bed right now, but you’d woken up in the middle of the night to find your bed empty. You were waking up in the middle of the night less often as time went on. Bit by bit your fear of being snatched away began to decrease. Yet the unease of your husband’s behavior fueled your overthinking. And the fact that this was the third time this week that he had disappeared in the middle of the night did nothing to help you. You suspect that he went to train on his midnight excursions, as you’d often stir awake when he’d return. You’d catch glimpses of him heaving and glistening with sweat.

Bi-han’s behavior leads you to think he is not being entirely honest. Now you do have to hand it to him, he is extremely skilled at concealing his unrest when he really wants to. But the longer you two have been married, the more of his habits you’ve picked up on. When he is angry or upset the training grounds become his second home, he becomes reckless; more scrapes and bruises grace his hands. He refrains from drinking his preferred tea of oolong and instead opts for something more bitter. He doesn’t converse as often anymore. You know it’s not as noticeable as before, but its lack still lingers. It irks you, it feels like such an odd step back. You do try to be patient, but you thought you were past this. You thought you were at a point where true comfort could be found with one another.

You worry about him. He had slowly opened up to you, but not to the degree you long for. You felt like you were always longing for more, when would you finally get it? You wonder if Bi-Han feels the same, and you wonder if he struggles to articulate the desire just as you do. You suspect that if you bluntly ask him what is troubling him, he will brush off the question. So you will have to devise an alternative strategy.

You carefully pour two cups of tea and now you wait. It’s in the late hours of the night. You assume the others are asleep. Your ears are attentive to your surroundings and hear the echo of footsteps getting louder and louder as they resonate through the hallway. You choose this moment to ambush your husband.

Bi-Han abruptly comes to a stop, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was startled. He looks at you the way a disappointed superior would. “What are you doing up at his hour? And what of your ankle? Go to bed.”

You shake your head. “No, I couldn’t sleep and it seems that neither can you. So I made tea for the both of us”

He sighs and rubs his knuckles lightly, they’re red. “No, I am fine without tea.”

You try not to roll your eyes. You were attempting to remain neutral but here you were already beginning to lose your patience. Or perhaps that was a side effect of feeling tired.

Your hand makes its way to grab his forearm. “I already made it, you might as well drink it.”

He looks down at your hand and figures that arguing more at this point wouldn’t do him any good. He follows you to the small table in the kitchen, pulling out a chair for you to sit on before he sits down himself. So he joins you, sipping his tea quietly so as to not disturb you. However, he is mistaken because his silence is perplexing you to no end.

You sip your tea as well, it’s too hot. “You know I’ve missed our conversations, I feel as if we barely have time to spend together, let alone have a conversation.”

His gaze meets yours. The desire to be defensive is there, but all he does is return his eyes to his tea. He misses your chats too, in the morning, midday, the evening, but he can’t bring himself to say it. He doesn’t deserve your company if he has failed at protecting you, one of the main fundamentals of being a husband. “I’ve taken on more responsibilities recently.”

“Do those responsibilities include avoiding me?” You ask plainly and raise an eyebrow at him.

So much for subtlety.

His eyebrows furrow and that ever-familiar crease emerges on his forehead. “Whatever I do, I do for your benefit.”

“The lack of your presence does not benefit me.”

He clenches his jaw. He won’t voice it, but he is exhausted, he doesn’t exactly want to address this right now. “Am I not by your side whenever my schedule allows me the time? Have I not checked up on you throughout the day? Do I not aid you whenever necessary?”

Your resolve falters briefly. That was true, he still cared for you, physically anyway. “That’s not what I mean.”

He knows what you mean, and he is simultaneously impressed yet shamefully irked that you have taken notice of it. He is unwilling to speak on it.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You cross your arms. Of course, he would avoid the topic, he was a stubborn man, you knew that by now. “Fine, you can go to bed.”

Bi-Han finishes his tea in one quick gulp before getting up and looking at you. “Finish your tea, let’s go.”

“No I’d rather stay here, I’ll come to bed later.”

“Wife, it’s late, I’d rather not leave you here alone.” You could hear the shift in his voice, from polite to politely annoyed, and maybe a hint of underlying concern.

“You left our bedroom in the middle of the night to train anyway.”

He supposes you’re correct. “You were asleep when I left. I was getting in more practice, and our bedroom is one of the safest places in the Lin Keui’s Palace.”

“In my opinion, the kitchen is safe enough. Goodnight.” You return to drinking your tea and Bi-Han does not move. You wonder when he’ll leave the room, but the second you finish the tea you feel your chair being swiftly pulled backward and before you know it, your husband has taken you up into his arms. You briefly grasp at his shirt from the sudden movement. “What’re you doing?”

“Your ankle hasn’t fully healed yet. I’m taking you back to our room.”

“My ankle is almost fully healed. Put me down.” Even though you speak your request, part of you wants him to deny it.

“No.”

You try not to focus on him as he brings you back to your shared bedroom. You keep your eyes averted from his face, and he notices. He places you down on your side of the bed.

“So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath.

Your head snaps back up to look at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he responds gruffly and proceeds to let his hair down. You pinch the bridge of your nose “You’re far more stubborn than I am.”

“Oh, am I?”

“You know you are.” You pause and lay down in your bed facing the opposite direction before pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. “Pushing me away won’t help anything and we both know it,” you mumble.

“I’m not in the mood to quarrel with you, I’m going to bed. You should too.”

You close your eyes, trying not to focus on the sounds of your husband maneuvering around the room, and hoping that sleep falls upon you quickly.

——————————

Your hair is being particularly troublesome today as you try to style it. You need something to pin it back. Maybe it’s because the air is thick, but you can’t decipher if that’s due to the placebo of your own tense thoughts, or if the usually frigid climate has a touch of humidity. And maybe you’re mulling over minor peculiarities to convince yourself that it’s all a sign to move forward.

Today you’ve pushed yourself to try and engage with your regular schedule again, at least when it came to your lessons. So as you sit in front of your vanity you take a deep breath and try not to let your mind wander. But that was easier said than done. You had to look presentable today, how long would you be allowed to wallow in your room? Even if they let you keep to yourself for days, it wouldn’t exactly display a good impression. You had to become acclimated to moving forward despite what you dealt with. Everyone else in the clan seemed capable of doing it, so you should be too.

One particular strand of hair fails to stay in place as your hand traverses your jewelry box. You are looking for a clip or pin to match your clothing for today, but nothing seems to suit your tastes. A sigh of frustration leaves your lips and you start rummaging through the drawers nearby. Now Bi-Han kept some of his belongings in the bottom drawer and you knew that. You rarely saw him open it and in the process of hastily checking each one, you open his. Now you’re not one for snooping around, you respected your husband’s privacy. But technically, what’s yours was his and what’s his was yours, isn’t that what married couples always said? Or at least the ones that had been around you growing up had uttered the phrase here and there. Your eyes quickly scan the contents of the drawer before coming to a halt. Hidden away in the back corner of the drawer is a small blue box adorned with gold lining. You raise a brow, you don’t think you’ve seen Bi-Han with any pieces of jewelry before, not after your wedding day. You carefully pick up the box and examine it before opening it.

What you find perplexes you.

‘What is that?’

A lone pin sits at its center. It is simple, silver, with a shimmering blue gemstone at its core. You delicately pick it up. This was a pin suited for a female. Was this for you? It must be, right?

Although wouldn’t Bi-Han have given it to you by now?

You told yourself you’d try to maintain a sound mind today, and yet your husband’s distance delves your brain into overthinking again. What if the pin was for someone else? What if he didn’t see you fit for the role of his wife any longer?

No.

You cannot allow your thoughts to wander any longer like this. You were already mentally exhausted and you refuse to add this to your list of worries. Still, it concerns you that you had found this hidden away, or what you assumed to be hidden anyway. Perhaps this was against your better judgment, but the pin was simple and beautiful. To be fair even if it didn’t entirely match your outfit, it did match your necklace.

If this accessory was meant to be a surprise you don’t understand why he would take so long to give it to you. No holidays were near, nor was your birthday coming up.

A hypothesis forms within your thoughts as you pull back a portion of your hair and hold it in place with the hairpiece. If Bi-Han sees the pin and becomes aggressive, then it must be for another. If he sees the pin and leaves it, it must be for you. Now you would expect a minor scolding, maybe you’d be reprimanded for ruining a surprise, but if the gift was for you anyway, you wouldn’t consider it a big deal. You stare at your reflection in the mirror and take a deep breath. Your eyes fall to the necklace you are wearing. Bi-Han did have good taste when it came to picking out things for you. He was attentive in that way. A twinge of guilt seeps into you, he has grown warmer towards you since you had married. Maybe his distance wasn’t a fault of your own, but an outcome of what had happened to you.

Maybe it had shaken him up as well.

You decide you will speak to him this evening.

——————————

Your tutors were happy to meet with you today, and due to your lack of consistency with attending your lessons, you had a lot to catch up on. You did not mind it very much. Truthfully it helped to keep your brain from wandering. You’ve seen Bi-Han throughout the day in passing, he would stop by the room you were in and eye you up and down before asking if you were feeling okay. You’d give him a curt “yes,” or just a nod of the head to indicate that you were busy.

You don’t think he believes you.

The day goes by quickly for you and soon your tutor is advising you to join your family for dinner, but you calmly decline. Conjuring up an excuse that convinces your instructor to leave you be. You’d probably grab a snack to satiate you later on. For now, you just wanted time to think. Approaching your husband after dinner concludes seems like a decent idea. You don’t think Bi-Han noticed your new little accessory and based on last night’s sour conclusion, you didn’t want to suffer through an awkward dinner with your in-laws present. You yawn and lean back in your chair while stretching out your arms. Maybe you can go relax for now, you think you deserved it after all that work.

——————————

Bi-Han wasn’t all that hungry right now, he told Kuai Liang that he’d dine later on as he had something to take care of. Honestly, he didn’t want to face you just yet. Nor did he want to maintain the guise of a happy couple who hadn’t argued the prior night. Engaging in theatrics for his clan’s pleasure was much easier when you two had first married, but now a simple argument had him uneasy. He knew you were still upset and he knew he was partially at fault.

He slowly makes his way through the halls of his home as his mind wanders. To be fair, he thought you were partially to blame as well. You just had to keep prying no matter how many times he had refuted your remarks. His walking comes to a slow halt as he thinks of what you said the night prior. Was his absence affecting you that much? A selfish part of him is satisfied with your longing for him, yet he again feels frustration when he thinks of his attachment to you as well. And it stings to think that he is once again failing as your husband. He should’ve been attentive, he knows you need it. And yet he is mindfully absent for his own heart’s sake, or maybe for its penance. He sighs as he opens the door to find you already there. He is about to utter your name as you turn around until his eyes catch sight of the jewel that adorns your hair. His breath hitches and his heart beats a little faster.

Before you can even greet him, his voice clamors through your room.

“Take that out of your hair and put it back where you found it. Now” he hisses.

You narrow your eyes, so he did notice it although you weren’t expecting such a visceral response. “No.”

He clenches his jaw and steps forward, you take a step back. “Why do you want me to take it off?” you say in an accusatory tone. ‘So much for resting.’

“Because I am your husband, and I am asking you to remove it” he responds. You raise an eyebrow, you can tell he is trying to maintain an undisturbed aura but it is not working. “And I am your wife, telling you I am not taking it off,” you respond and smile up at him. “Maybe if you told me why you want me to remove it so badly, I’d be more inclined to do so.”

He sighs as if he is tired and you speak up again, “Because if you don’t, it makes me wonder if this was a gift for someone else.”

His jaw practically drops, “Do you think so low of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you’ve hidden this pin away?” You hastily take off the hairpin and flash it in front of him. He steps forward and reaches to take it but you take another step back. You know he could snatch it right out of your hand before you even had a chance to realize that he’s done so. Therefore some part of you appreciates his failure to do so.

You cross your arms with the pin still in hand, “Bi-Han, why would you hide this away?” You bite your lip out of nervousness.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re fretting over things you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

You can tell how frustrated he is by the way he clenches his fists and the deep breath he takes. But you watch how his face changes, from frustration to disdained haughtiness. He steps forward once more and by now your back is against the wall.

He eyes you up and down and his eyebrows furrow. “Give me the hairpin.”

You sigh, he does look slightly unnerving to you, but you will not allow such tactics to sway you. “Intimidate me all you want, we both know it won’t work with me, I know you well enough by now.” If you were honest, this whole ordeal made you feel like you didn’t know him at all.

Bi-Han’s hands come to rest on your shoulders. “You don’t know me.”

You let out a defeated laugh. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with someone that refused to communicate? The very thought unnerved you. “Then help me fix that!” you respond in an exasperated tone. “And here I am again, begging you to help me understand. What am I missing here? And do not lie to me. How long would you have us both dance around this unspoken issue?”

He shakes his head in a defeated manner, it doesn’t suit him, “Don’t concern yourself with such things.”

You shoot him an angry look, “I concern myself because it involves us. I am your wife and I can’t read your mind,” You hiss and motion towards yourself. “What is it? Are you ashamed of me? I’m sorry.” You tried to maintain a calm demeanor but your voice is shrill by now. You shove the hairpin into his chest and attempt to push him away from you, but the pin falls to the floor as his hands wrap around your shoulders. The look in his eyes screams of intensity, while yours remain seeped in anger.

‘Sorry?’

Why would you be sorry? It’s his fault. He hated to even acknowledge the fact, but it was true. Had he been present, had he been there, none of this would’ve happened. Had he been a proper husband, he would’ve kept you safe.

Just another task he’s failed at.

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is,” you respond stubbornly.

He stares at you, his look has now become unreadable to you. “I am the one who failed you.”

That statement of his brings you pause. You tilt your head up and lean forward rather confused. You would never take him as one to admit failure of any sort.

“Failed me at what? What do you mean?” Your throat feels dry as you await a response. What could he possibly be going on about? Your hand moves up to squeeze his hand gently, urging him to continue. His eyebrows are still furrowed, and you hear him gulp before he speaks. “If I had been more watchful, you would not have been taken or injured in the first place.”

Oh.

He had saved you, you were living and breathing before him, yet that’s what had been on his mind. Your resolve falters a bit. You didn’t realize it was that, and here you were worrying that he was ashamed of you. Perhaps you’ve thought too little of yourself. You had taken the increasing distance for a perpetual disking, not quiet insecurity.

“I- I thought it was something else. I thought it was me, or the state of our marriage-”

He cuts you off, “What do you mean.” His voice is a little quieter now.

“Bi-Han.”

“Answer me.” He sighs in a tone that echos remorse, “please.”

You gaze up at him as his eyes lock on yours. His heart is beating fast, and he hates it. His facade is crumbling before you.

He hates it.

“We were married off too quickly, I didn’t think things through, I did not realize what I was getting myself into.” You look back at him now, searching for a hint of emotion in his face, but he does his best to remain stoic. Still, you place a hand on his cheek, and the sensation of his jaw clenching is felt on your fingers.

You feel his hand cover yours, you wonder if he’s trying to remove your touch.

“Are you attempting to imply that you’re not happy with our arrangement?-“ he cuts himself off. He was about to snap at you. Say that he can bring you back home to your original clan if that’s what you desire, that he’d end things amicably. However he knows he could never do that, he’d rather keep you locked away for himself. Would that be another sentiment of his selfishness? It is. He’s been pushing you away, but the thought of you actually leaving strikes fear into his heart.

You shake your head vigorously, “No, I was uneasy initially, but I’m happy when you are actually around.” You drop your hands and clutch at the fabric of your own dress. “I want you around. I feel safer with you around. I miss you.” You say softly. You almost feel like a child, confessing feelings of fondness. Surely you’ve told him you missed him before? But this is different. His hand comes to rest against your cheek, drawing your attention back up to him.

You miss him. And truthfully, he misses you too. You will not live forever, neither will he. Your time together is finite. He desires your time. He desires your affection, your presence. Why in the world has he been depriving himself of something you’ve been so willing to give? He knows, but his burning inhibitions are beginning to quiet down as he looks back at you. The look on your face has morphed into something sincere, so genuine. You reach out to him with open arms, offering up a place of solace that he’s been desperately craving since he was a boy. He engulfs you in his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck, almost as if he’s trying to shield himself from his own shortcomings. It’s against his very nature, but he can’t help himself, not anymore.

The words spill out like vomit. Repulsive to him. But it’s soothing to your ears, it serves as an assurance that you’ve yet to lose him.

“I endangered you. I nearly lost you.” His tone is so wrath with what you liken to regret, that it pains you.

“I should have known better, I should have kept a better eye on you. What if you had gotten gravely injured? What if you were killed? It’s my fault. How am I fit to be your husband when I’ve failed at the simplest of duties? If I can’t even keep you out of harm's way, how am I to be cognizant of the safety of my clan?.” His voice falters the slightest bit as he speaks.

“It’s not your fault. If it weren’t for you I would not be alive.” You say quietly.

Neither of you faces the other as you speak, only hiding away in the embrace that shields each other to some degree. But you can’t bear it anymore. You attempt to pull away, to look at him face to face, and guarantee that he believes you when you vocalize your assurance. But he doesn’t let you. His grip on you is firm, his fingers dig into your sides as if he’s trying to keep you from disappearing. “Don’t.” He speaks so quietly, it’s unlike him. Your fingers graze the back of his neck before you find yourself petting his hair, you’re content when he doesn’t pull away.

“I-I am inadequate. I just didn’t think about how dangerous your line of work is. It didn’t occur to me until I was caught up in the middle of it. If I had been more aware of my surroundings, or if I had trained harder then maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a vulnerable situation.”

“Don’t speak of yourself that way.”

You shrug your shoulders lightly, “I’m only stating how I feel. And we both know that’s true.” You murmur.

“What good do you get out of blaming yourself?”

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”

He doesn’t respond and you gently tug at his hair, “Bi-Han?”

“It’s not the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“How can I not blame myself? I foolishly let my guard down, when I’ve been trained to never do so.”

You’re quiet for a moment. That day had been enjoyable for you both, you wouldn’t expect him nor yourself to have predicted the unfortunate events of that day.

“You’ve acknowledged that it’s happened, but as you said yourself, what good will constantly punishing yourself do? What’s done is done, and I am thankful that you kept me from greater harm.” You hold onto him tighter as you speak. “I see how you’re punishing yourself, don’t you understand that hurts me more than whatever happened that day?” You mumble quietly.

You hear his breath hitch. “That is not my intention.”

“But that’s what’s been happening.” You try to tear away from his grip, and he reluctantly lets you go so that you’re able to face him. You cup the sides of his face within the palms of your hands. “I care for you, we’ve been bound by marriage and I take that commitment seriously. I want to bear your burdens with you, haven’t I shown that I want to be by your side as we endure this life?”

His hands come up to grip your wrists as if he were to remove them from his face, but he refrains from doing so, “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“But I do,” you counter. You find yourself leaning closer. “I’ve experienced what risks come with your line of work now, and that is by no fault of either of us. Do you not think that I would have fled back to my clan had I truly wanted to leave? I’ve seen you drenched in the blood of your enemies and I still crave your presence. You’ve been deluding yourself.” You take a deep breath. “I vowed to remain with you through times of sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation. Until my last breath.” Your hands move to the base of his neck and you tug him to get closer to you, he leans down slightly as you speak again “I expect you to vow the same. And to uphold those vows as I do.”

Maybe it is the haziness of words finally spoken, or the surge of warmth and tenderness coursing through his once cold veins, but before you can finish your sentiments you feel lips crashing into yours and desperate hands grasping at your waist. There’s a messy fervor to the kiss, an accumulation of unbridled longing and lingering frustration. Your teeth clash in between gasps and the colliding of lips. He pulls away briefly and you see the red tint emerging on his swollen lips. You find it enticing. Your fingertips brush up against his lips, “swear the same to me.” His hand rests on the back of your head as his lips make their way to trail from your jaw and down your neck. “I vow to remain by your side in sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation.” Your breathing picks up, and you grip his shoulders.

“For how long?” You mumble.

“Until my final breath.”

His knee is pushing forward as he speaks, coming to rest in between your thighs and you slowly feel as if it’s becoming harder to maintain your composure. His hands encase you and before you can protest, he’s laid you on the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he looms over you with both of his hands resting at your sides. In this moment you are reminded of how imposing his stature is. Excitement and nervousness blend into a sensation that makes your heart beat frantically. You look up at him, and he shifts his eyes from your gaze. You reach up and lightly tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” He says in a formal tone. His seriousness almost makes you chuckle.

Although you didn’t expect the evening to lead to this, you’re far too eager to refuse.“I am,” you respond as one of your hands trails his bicep. Meanwhile, his hand undoes the sash tied around your waist. His fingers move slowly, almost methodically now as he begins to remove your dress, you’re left in your undergarments and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Bi-Han slows down the pace and wonders if you are at all as nervous as he is. He excels at whatever he pursues and he thinks this should be no different, but when he’s not purely acting on instinct and has a moment to think, his mind wanders. He wonders if he will live up to your expectations. He tries not to speculate on if you’ve done this before with someone else, the very thought makes his blood boil. But these thoughts dissipate when your hand begins to undo his belt. He swiftly grabs your wrist and you give him a lazy smile, “I don’t want to be the only one undressed, I’d rather we be on equal footing.”

That was an excuse, you were actually eager to marvel at his physique.

He lets go of your wrist and sits back as he takes off his shirt. Your hand runs down his chest and abdomen. Bi-Han’s body appears as if it was sculpted, harboring the finest architecture. His skin is somewhat dry, but cool to the touch. As your hands drift along his torso you attempt to commit every curve and crevice to memory. Soon enough your arms wrap around his neck and you drag him down with you as you press your lips against his again and again. His hand slips to your back, attempting to undo the pesky layer of clothing shielding your chest from him. When he does get it off, you watch him toss it aside. You’ll scold him later about being so careless with your clothing. But your thoughts return to the activity at hand when, suddenly his hands are exploring your chest. His hands are rough and calloused against your skin, a stark contrast to your own. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. You feel him smile against your lips but you pull away again and he takes the opportunity to drag his lips along your throat.

Your eyes are still closed as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s been so long since you’ve engaged in any form of physical intimacy, and to indulge to this degree with him is still so new to you. “I’m still somewhat mad, you know.”

He’s quiet for a moment as his lips traverse down your chest and stomach, occasionally allowing his teeth to graze your skin. “I would not fault you for it, allow me to make amends.”

“And how will you do that?” you mumble. He shifts his position downwards, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear, and just like that, the last piece of clothing veiling your body is gone. His gaze is greedy as he eyes your exposed form and you instinctively shut your legs. Only to have your husband take hold of your thighs and spread them apart. He allows his fingers to explore uncharted territory. And he takes note of your expressions as he does so. He drags a finger down your slit, intentionally lowering his body temperature so that you tremble at his touch. You want to grab something, and so your arms reach out towards him instinctively and there’s a sense of satisfaction that settles in his soul, watching you grasp at him when you’re so vulnerable like this. One of his hands takes hold of both of yours, kissing them. He runs his thumb across the scar on your left wrist, and he realizes it must be from the rope that day. It must have burned when it continuously chafed against your skin to the point of drawing blood.

“BI-Han?”

Oh.

He hasn’t realized he’s stopped the movement of his fingers, and that he’s been focused on your wrist more than he should be at this moment. He places one more kiss against the scar. You smile hesitantly, “So that you remember, I’m not upset about that.”

You are far too kind, too forgiving towards him. He does not respond but returns to his endeavors between your legs. You feel two of his fingers enter you and gasp in response. He maintains a constant motion, catching you off guard when his thumb moves to caress a certain bundle of nerves.

Maybe this is his desire to please you, to make amends for his behavior somehow, or maybe it’s his need to excel, to prove that he’s the best you’ll ever have. He doesn’t know exactly. He doesn’t know when such inclinations formed within him. He thought he’d be more concerned with chasing his own pleasure, but for now, it’s an afterthought. And before he knows it, his lips are brushing against your inner thigh.

A high-pitched gasp leaves your lips when he begins. You cover your mouth, surprised not only at the sounds that have left your mouth but additionally at his skill. You feel his hand reach up only to roughly tug at your arm, “do not hold yourself back,” he says gruffly. You can’t even bring yourself to respond. The man works wonders with his tongue. Your brain allows you to focus on nothing but your husband’s oral expertise.

Until your notation of his skill causes you to wonder.

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it lightly. Causing him to grunt and look up at you. His lips are slick.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You groan and pull his hair a tad harder. A small laugh leaves his lips, he will spare you for now.

You’re thinking about how you like the sound of his laughter when he responds. “You need to pay attention to your belongings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been reading your novels. They are descriptive.”

You feel even more heat rush up to your face as he returns to his venture between your thighs. You didn’t realize he’d been reading those books, part of you is embarrassed at him being aware of some of the content you prefer. However, if he puts his newly gained knowledge to use, you don’t mind him snooping on your reading material.

Tension begins to build but your husband deprives you of reaching that peak of pleasure just yet. You laugh breathlessly, “You’re being cruel. Was this meant to make amends or punish me?” His fingertips take hold of your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Patience, wife.”

The longing look in your eyes only fuels his desire for you. His arm hooks around your waist to drag up back up toward the front of the bed. And perhaps he’s become too eager, the growing ache in his pants is becoming harder to ignore. You watch as he hastily removes his remaining clothing. Your eyes travel downwards and you’re happy to find that your original suspicions were correct, he was well endowed. Bi-Han catches your line of sight and grabs your chin to make you look up at him again. “Shameless.”

You smile, “Can you blame me? I’ve been curious since our wedding night.” He raises an eyebrow, he supposes you were equally as curious as he was back then. You reach out a hand to touch him, touch it, but he catches your wrist, using the opportunity to quickly pin you back down to the bed.

“You must learn restraint.” Bi-Han knew he was teasing you but he was just as guilty. His eyes drank in the image of your exposed form. His hands move to travel down your body, groping and grasping at the flesh displayed before him. Your skin is oh-so-soft, and his fingers return once again to the heat between your legs. The sounds leaving your mouth make him feel dizzy with desire and he finds himself impatient. “Spread your legs.”

Before you respond, his hands grip your thighs to spread them apart.

He leans down and his cold breath mingles with yours as you gently take hold of his face in your hands.

He doesn’t speak. The situation almost doesn't seem real to him. Words would not be able to articulate what his feelings are at this moment, so he entrusts his touch to convey his affection and desire for you. Between kisses pressed to your lips and the connecting of your flesh, he finds bliss between your legs. His body acts on instinct, the feeling is maddening. Is this what he has been lacking in life? For a brief moment, he recalls tales of war and battles raged for the sake of woman’s love, for her affections and touch. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he can understand that reasoning.

But he is brought out of his trance when you let out a shaky breath and grasp him hard enough for your nails to leave red indents. He pulls back to see your face contort into pain and quickly removes himself out of a mix of embarrassment and concern.

He was hurting you.

In the past, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared, but he does now. He cares that he’s hurt you, and a part of him is ashamed that he became so lost in his own pleasures. Guilt is evident in the way he scowls and turns his face. You sit up and reach out a hand before he can even think to come up with a retort or retreat.

“It’s normal, stop it.” You practically tug him back on top of you. You know in the past, you wouldn’t make the effort to assure him, you wouldn’t long for him like this, but you do now. His arms rest on either side of you again and his eyebrows furrow when you graze your lips against the corner of his mouth. “Go slow at first, please.” And so he complies. The stinging emerges again and you scare him when your eyes shut in what appears like distress to him, prompting Bi-Han to halt his pace again. “… Are you positive you wish to engage in this with me.” His tone of voice is timid almost, a stark contrast to what you’re used to hearing.

“I’m certain.”

And so he continues, and soon the pain begins to delve into pleasure. You find yourself lost in ecstasy. Briefly, you think of how carefully his hands hold onto. How hands capable of killing could hold you so close. His hips continuously collide with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him nearer. Obscene melodies echo throughout the room prompting your husband to pick up the pace. You know there’s a possibility that your voices might leak into the hallway. You know your nails are digging into his skin as you hold onto him for leverage, and you are aware that your skin will be littered with bruises and bite marks. But you could care less right now. Those will be problems to address later. For now, the physical sensation is all you can bring yourself to focus on.

Had Bi-Han known this is what consummating your relationship truly felt like, perhaps he would have taken you on the wedding night. But no, it wouldn’t feel this passionate, this consuming. You draw him in and the pleasure makes him practically feel intoxicated The sounds that escape your lips only heighten the experience. The way your nails drag down his back only reinvigorates him. His hands tangle in your hair and you feel his breathing pick up. His teeth graze your neck and you feel a distinct pressure building up within you. You assume he does as well when the grip he has on your body tightens enough to leave imprints. You’re left panting when he finishes, his seed dripping from your core and staining your thighs.

He seems as if he’s in a daze, breathing heavily as his eyes drag ever so slowly up your form. The image of you breathing heavily while sprawled out in front of him is one that he’d like to commemorate to memory.

But now the euphoria delves into exhaustion. His body weight becomes increasingly difficult it holds up as if his soul is luring him to rest. And before he knows it, he’s not bothering to hold himself up anymore. He’s lying against you, and he can feel your arms wrap around him once more. But the feeling is short-lived.

“You’re heavy, get off.” You groan. Maybe it’s the endorphins running through his veins, but he finds your annoyance endearing. He lazily rolls off of you and watches the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to catch your breath. Sweat glistens on your skin.

You catch his gaze and cross your arms over your chest. “How shameless,” you tease.

He reaches over to move your arms out of the way, and you allow him to.

“You seduced me, take it as a compliment.”

You chuckle lightly, “Noted.” You shift onto your side to face him. Bi-Han still looks effortlessly flawless. He hasn’t even broken a sweat in your recent activities, at least it looks that way to you. You move closer to him, enough so that you’re able to rest your head against his chest. “Aren’t you tired?” You inquire. Your husband shakes his head, “somewhat.” His movements are languid as he drapes an arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You let out a small chuckle. “What is it?” He asks.

“I could never imagine you behaving in such an endearing manner when we first met.”

“I’ve exceeded your expectations then,” he says in a factual tone of voice.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply jokingly.

He raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

And suddenly he’s maneuvered himself to loom over you once more. His lips hover over yours as he awaits your answer. Your body is worn out, you can feel a dull ache blooming between your legs, and perhaps your response is against your better judgment.

“Yes.”

——————————

The sunlight casts a warm glow as it enters your bedroom, and in time it nudges you awake. As your eyes flutter open slowly, you find your husband watching over you. “Good morning,” You say and smile as you reach out a hand to caress your husband’s cheek. He lays his hand over yours. “Good morning.” He takes your hand and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

You chuckle lightly, “You put me right to sleep last night, I am well rested.” You try to shift your position but grimace at the soreness residing between your legs. “I may spend all day in bed.”

A smirk flashes across your husband’s face and you shoot him a pensive look, albeit lightheartedly.

You move to rest against him but stop when you remember the hairpin. “Bi-Han-“ you start off, but it’s as if he could already anticipate your question before you had a chance to ask. He holds the accessory between his fingertips. “In the chaos of the evening, it was displaced.” He appears the slightest bit hesitant but hands the pin back to you. “It was for you, or rather it is for you.” You smile faintly “It matches my necklace perfectly.”

“That’s why I selected it that day.” His voice trails off slowly. His silence echoes his sincerity and you smile softly at him.

“I’ll cherish it. Thank you.”

Your simple acknowledgment is enough to put him at ease now, but he still appears contemplative.

“What is it?”

These words seldom leave his mouth, but when conversing with you, the words now flow with ease. “I am sorry, I pushed you away and laid the brunt of my problems on you simultaneously.”

“I won’t hold it against you.” You move to lay your head against his chest. “I’ll allow you the rest of our lives to make it up to me. You swore to stay with me til death, after all.”

“Of course.”

You smile and soon enough you find your eyelids feeling heavy again. You close your eyes, and the sensation of your husband’s hand gliding up and down your back accompanies the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. You know that this life won’t be easy, but something tells you that you will be okay.

That you both will be okay.

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This is the last chapter as far as things go right now. Maybe in the future I'll post some one shots that take place in this fic's universe though. Thanks for sticking around and bearing with me for taking so long with this upload. And of course, thanks for reading 💙

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#mk1 #bi han mk #sub zero x reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han x you #bi han fanfic #i hope i caught all the typos #i'm posting this at 2:20 am lol

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ayaboba · 5 months

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DAY 9: WE DON’T WANT YOU CATCHING A COLD, DO WE? ❅⋆⍋

summary: them giving you their jacket in the cold.

characters: childe, baizhu, wriothesley, xiao.

notes: 3rd time the charm? fluff, gn! reader, wc: 300ish each.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

childe

Hailing from Snezhnaya, Childe was entirely aware of his resistance to chilly weather, the immunity was practically infused in his veins. The lifelong exposure to frigid winds and crystalline icicles had played a prominent role throughout his timeline, so it was only correct for him to possess such characteristics evolved through experience.

That being said, Childe was not unaware of his resilience in comparison to foreigners in his homeland; in fact, he buoyantly revelled in it. It was an advantage in his eyes, a quality that should be boisterously paraded for the unfortunate souls that could never delight in beholding such a divinely useful attribute. Childe was never ignorant, however, he never let the trailer of playfulness extend to the wrong audience, he had a particular selection of people he simply rejoiced in teasing, and you seemed to be one of the lucky few.

There are days when you have to sacrifice your health just a teensy bit, perhaps risking a cold for a perfectly coordinated outfit. He didn’t have to know, all Childe needs to do is compliment you on your remarkable taste in fashion.

But that’s not all Childe notices, his gaze catches the sequence of goosebumps, the subtle shivers and quivers in your voice, and he feels the thin strings of his heart tighten just a little bit. He’ll murmur the showers of compliments, but not after shoving you his jacket and tucking you neatly under his arm.

baizhu

It happens every year—an unceasing mountain of patients all suffering the same case—which is easily avoidable with the right precautions.

Yet Baizhu ensures to remind them all, gently and tenderly as they finish their checkups with the concocted medicine in hand. As he strongly believes, there is no point being stern when you can be soft-spoken and understanding. This way, as he has observed over the years, always proves more effective results and happier patients, and being a doctor, Baizhu knows the benefits stemming from a greater abundance of positive emotions.

Perhaps it was because of his nature, his eulogised nurturing manner responsible for his revered words and actions commended as significantly noble. Nevertheless, you admired it immensely. Taking care of the sick required many precise skills that demanded only someone who possessed a vast amount of goodwill and patience.

So, really, how else did you think he’d react when he saw what you were wearing in such weather?

Baizhu certainly commends it as a lovely choice of complimentary clothing and mentally applauds you for it, but he can’t help but extend his concern. It’s subtle, all he desires is for you to please take care of yourself, and if you particularly needed anything, just remember that he was always available; he’ll manage somehow, because it’s you.

There are some small exceptions, occurrences where you needn’t ask for him to know, but that doesn’t really matter right now. Just make sure to thank him for that jacket engulfing you most lusciously, because although he attempts to conceal it, those goosebumps lining his arm are just as visible as your smile.

wriothesley

Spending more and more time with Wriothesley has given the chance for you to perceive and confirm a myriad of assumptions and strange quirks about his personality.

In all honesty, you admit there were more pros than cons. The Duke of the Fortress of Meriopide seemed to exponentially bleed extravagance, which was truthfully a little stupid, because although he was a noteworthy figure throughout Fontaine, he sincerely wasn’t the type to feast in glamour or grandeur, or anything similar of the sort. Well, publicly, at least.

It’s a sweet surprise when Wriothesley most charmingly invites you for a night out. It’s not that he wants to hide your relationship (quite the contrary, actually), but he absolutely despises when people decide to inconveniently prowl into the specifics of someone’s private life, and being Fontaine, it would likely be scripted into a melodramatic love story featuring heart-wrenching betrayals and exaggerated standards in romance.

Being with Wriothesley elicits emotions that feel subjected to only him; he’s the exception. These new feelings are ravaging your mind in countless cycles, gifting you a dangerously addictive rush that spreads through your body like a wildfire. He likes to remind you that he does, in fact, notice your reaction to his looming presence, and he does it without an ounce of hesitation.

“You seem to shiver as soon as I get a little too close,” he states matter-of-factly as you browse the night stalls scattered throughout the city. “I assume it's only because you’re cold, right?”

That 'right' is said so excruciatingly slow, like he wants to let it reverberate through your bones, so that you get the message that he knows it, knows how to get you so deliciously feverish.

“Have my jacket, darling. We don’t want you catching a cold, do we?”

xiao

Was he really that interesting?

Although he spends an unhealthy amount of time ambling about his insecurities and his self-image, Xiao has never considered whether he could’ve been fascinating enough to have piqued someone’s curiosity. Someone who found him interesting probably was crippling from some mad sickness without a cure.

Your hopeful face is almost persuasive enough to let him say yes, almost.

Seriously, in what universe was he going to allow you to fight monsters with him? Yes, you were an admirable fighter equipped with a vast set of skills and stamina, but if you slipped for a mere split second, he could regret this decision for the rest of eternity.

Then comes the deal.

You explain that if you can’t go slaughter the monsters, then would Xiao approve of simply tagging along? If that doesn’t convince him, surely a genuine promise of being aware of the surroundings should sweeten the agreement, right?

It seems you have won the prize of an evening stroll accompanied by Xiao.

The first ten minutes are pleasant, bestowing a treasured memory for both, but as the sun sets and the winds begin to pick up, the temperature is getting a little too cool for liking. All you can do is try to retain your body heat by holding your body a little more tightly as you watch Xiao destroy a camp of hillichurls nearby.

“Xiao!” you call out to him once he’s finished decimating the site. “I’m going to head back now!”

With some magical precision of an adeptus, he teleports to where you’re standing, his face is strangely not confused but rather…stern?

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” he announces with the air of a strict mother. “I know you wouldn’t plead to accompany me just to return home after fifteen minutes. Here,” he nods, a woollen jacket displayed in his arms. “Put it on as we walk back.”

#genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #childe x reader #baizhu x reader #wriothesley x reader #xiao x reader #childe fluff #baizhu fluff #wriothesley fluff #xiao fluff #anya writes ✧.*

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yuphoric · 4 months

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STOCKHOLM SYNDROME ❥ yuuta okkotsu (m) | part 1

➵ summary: Yuuta Okkotsu is head over heels (read: pathetically) in love with a girl who wouldn’t even spare him a second glance. When the opportunity to call her “his” arrives on a silver platter—that is, when she loses all her memories—without thinking, he grabs the opportunity to claim himself as her husband.

➵ pairing: obsessive stalker!yuuta okkotsu x f!reader ➵ word count: 1,163 ➵ warnings: MINORS DNI – stalking & obsession (for future drabbles? chapters? smut)

author’s note: ALL LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! <3 inspired by the 1D fanfic i read 9 years ago (“illegally yours” by _DaniMoon_)… ALSO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS……….. the yuuta brainrot was just sooo... bad i wrote all of this in one sitting SCREAMINGGGG

Yuuta Okkotsu is a well-calculated man; he’s a “mastermind” as Taylor Swift would say. He’s smart, and he’s careful. He’s everything but stupid.

However, when it comes to you, he becomes stupid. Stupidly in love. All thoughts of intellect trashed at the deepest corner of his mind, all reasons of rationality ignored. Even back in high school, he’d admire you from afar—too insecure to even place himself in your world. He never deemed his world worthy to accommodate you; you who he defines as perfection, you who shines brighter than any of the constellations combined.

When this seemingly perfect chance to have you, to love you, falls beneath his feet; he takes it—he grabs it.

His day started like his usual routine. He greeted the kind barista named ‘Yuuji’ behind the counter and bought his usual coffee order from the small café he frequents at. He sat at the plush chair (technically, could be labeled as his own by how much his ass sat on it) near the window, catching sight of the beautiful morning scenery—

You.

You, at exactly eight in the morning, arrive with the usual twinkle in your eye. Yuuta falls in love more every day with the sight of perfection. In these typical mornings, you always carry a digital camera, taking pictures of your usual subjects; like the shop’s designs that change weekly (Last week, he recalled it was designed with cute little balloons to celebrate the owner’s birthday), the baristas which have become your friends, and the pastries layed out inside the glass display. He always wondered when he could be the subject of your pictures.

Once Yuuta hears the soft jingle of the shop’s bells, you dash over the counter and greet Yuuji. If someone would ask Yuuta what you usually order, he could easily recite it: “One sea salt latte and a banana muffin, please.” On days you feel like ‘experimenting,’ he knows that you would instead order a double shot of espresso and a puff pastry.

While he tries to not seem obvious stalking—admiring—you, he couldn’t help himself to let his eyes wander on your body. Especially when today, you wore the pink miniskirt he loved seeing on you, how it perfectly hugs your waist down to your thighs. After you pay, you walk to your designated seat: the one near the counter, just beneath the air conditioner. He shakes his head, turning back to his table; his hand grasping the ballpoint pen he brought to messily sketch the you of today on his journal. His ordered drink is neglected at the side, his focus on your sketch and his view of you by the corner of his eye.

Today seems like any other day.

Until it wasn’t.

The bells ring once again at the entry of another man with dark hair bunched in a top knot. Yuuta watches as your eyes light up at the sight of this man, and he could swear he feels his stomach lurch. Who is this man and why is she so happy to see him? The grip Yuuta had on his pen tightened, similar to the feeling of his vulnerable heart. Do you have a boyfriend he never knew of?

For the next couple of minutes, he watches the sequence of events play out. First, Yuuji delivers a tray of two different drinks and two different pastries on your shared table. Second, the sweet conversation you introduced to this ‘top knot’ (read: ‘top one asshole,’ as Yuuta conjured in his head) seemingly turned sour instantaneously. Then currently, Yuuta watches the back and forth of free flowing arguments between the two of you.

How dare this man hurt you?

Someone as perfect as you?

The chatter in the shop couldn’t mask the heated conversation you shared with the man across your seat. Yuuta desperately wanted to intervene; to say something, to wipe the leaking tears away from your face—but he stayed still. He remains unmoved. What else could he do, anyway? He watches as your emotions get the best of you; your face displaying emotions of frustration and anguish. Yuuta vowed to himself not to make you feel the way you do right now because of the asshole you were with, to not see these expressions on your pretty face.

You stand up, and Yuuta hears the loud screech your chair evokes as you trudge your way out. The ‘top one asshole’ remains seated, his back turned against Yuuta. With no other thought passing through his head but you, he follows your lead outside the shop. His coffee remains untouched, pen now bashed in his jean’s pockets and his journal pinched between his fingers.

He, himself, couldn’t calculate his next few actions.

Yuuta follows the blue sedan car you drive; he strikes closely behind you, not too near, but not too far either. His eyes zero in your form, maintaining the pace of his motorcycle. He hopes you don’t notice him following him for the past couple of minutes already; of course, he just wanted to ensure that you were safe—that you were okay. He was just worried, that’s all.

After the three alternating turns and the two highways you drove, the road the two were driving at started to get steeper. The cars and other transportation devices started to lessen and lessen. Yuuta feels the sweat start to drip down his neck, the helmet he wears starts to loosen, while he continues to push down all the weight of his body on his seat to control himself. He sees your car get faster than a lightning speed, your car evoking a loud screeching sound.

What the actual fuck were you trying to do?

You seemed frantic, displayed through your driving. In a matter of seconds, you started to lose control of your car. Yuuta watches your car fishtail like a wild animal, spinning repeatedly until you hit a light post.

He feels the adrenaline rush through his veins, as he pushes his motorcycle behind you. The exhilaration overcame his body’s fatigue from the extensive, one-sided pursuit. The reverberation of the screeching continued to pierce the tranquility of the road, resonating in the middle of almost nowhere. Yuuta feels his heart race, but not because he's in love with you; rather, it’s because he worries you got seriously hurt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Yuuta mutters to himself as he sees dust erupt from your car’s tires, casting a cloud that obscured his view of you. He catches up to your swerved car, him haphazardly pushing down on his rear brake pedal. “What the fuck happened?”

He cautiously approached your car, his heart stuttering against his ribs. Yuuta peers through your car’s cracked window, only to see head laid on your headrest with your eyes closed. His gut wrenches at the sight of the blood seeping through the wound on your forehead; fortunately, the cut wasn’t too big, but it was deep.

What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

a/n: will post other parts to this!! planning to make this multichaptered?? I JUST LOVE YUTAAAAAA.....the brainrot is so bad imnfdndsbhjhbascdhjdajchhjajksjkjsdkdnwkejkdjw pls lmk what u think <33

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 7 months

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‘Our Flag Means Death’: How Blackbeard & Stede’s Fantastical Underwater Reunion Came Together

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death, Season 2, Episodes 1-3.]

It doesn’t take more than a single second to recognize Kate Bush‘s haunting and heartbreaking tune “This Woman’s Work,” as Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), is pushed from a clifftop to plunge into the ocean’s depths below in Our Flag Means Death‘s Season 2 installment, “The Innkeeper.” But how did the pirate heartbroken over Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) wind up in this position? It’s a delicate and winding path that starts with the infamous pirate’s unraveling over the course of the latest season’s first two episodes.

Believing Stede intentionally abandoned him after planning to run away together at the end of Season 1, Blackbeard embraces the version of himself so many have conjured up in their minds as he leads the Revenge’s “new” crew to pillage and plunder on the high seas. His unhinged behavior eventually forces Jim (Vico Ortiz), Izzy (Con O’Neill), Frenchie (Joel Fry), Archie (Madeleine Sami), and Fang (David Fane) to violently take control of the ship and neutralize Blackbeard — or so they think — after he steers them directly into a storm.

When Zheng Yi Sao’s (Ruibo Qian) Red Flag happens across an eerie-looking Revenge on the ocean, Stede dives overboard in his excitement over the possibility of seeing Ed, only to be told various excuses for his absence by the crew aboard. When Stede directly addresses Izzy regarding Blackbeard’s lack of presence, the now peg-legged pirate claims the Revenge crew dropped Ed on a beach.

This seems to ring true as we see Blackbeard wash ashore and cared for by his own former captain Hornigold (Mark Mitchinson). While together, Blackbeard and Hornigold discuss the mutiny that took place and Blackbeard’s hopes for the future. When a role-playing scenario testing Blackbeard’s ability to be an Innkeeper, a profession he’s interested in, goes awry, he attacks Hornigold, killing the tarp-clad pirate. But when Hornigold rises again, Blackbeard realizes something is off.

Aboard the Revenge, Ed’s body is uncovered below deck. Believing him dead, Zheng Yi Sao is forced to consider killing the Revenge crew for mutiny after initially welcoming them aboard the Red Flag. And Stede has to cope with the idea that his love may be gone forever.

After hatching an escape plan for the Revenge team, Stede and pals return to their former ship, leaving Zheng stranded without a wheel. Going to sit with Ed’s body, Stede wonders why he had to go and get himself killed. Meanwhile, Blackbeard begins to realize he’s stuck somewhere between life and death, a place this Hornigold manifestation calls a “gravy basket.”

As the two men banter about the pros and cons of choosing life over death, Hornigold ties a boulder around Ed’s waist and throws it from the cliff they’re standing on, pushing Blackbeard into the ocean. Just as it seems as though he’ll succumb to the waves, Blackbeard proves Bush’s song right: Perhaps there’s a little life in him yet. When Stede lifts the cloth from his face on the Revenge, underwater Ed reacts to the change. Peering into the water, he sees a light from which a fantastical mermaid version of Stede emerges.

In the real world, Stede reacts to Blackbeard’s twitching hand, taking it in his and pleading for him to live as a montage of their moments together rolls alongside Bush’s still-playing song. The final seconds of the episode see Ed’s eyes open, giving Stede hope.

So, how did this moving turn of events come to pass? A team full of creatives was responsible for bringing the captivating and satisfying reunion.

Stede’s Mermaid Tail

“It’s a huge process,” putting together Stede’s practical mermaid look, according to costume designer Gypsy Taylor. She says “it started with me begging everybody” to avoid visual FX and make a tail for the sequence. The orange and glittering look could have followed several different styles, but ultimately, Taylor notes, “I thought if Stede is going to turn into a mermaid, and it’s in Blackbeard’s dream, it’s sort of his vision of a mermaid.”

Considering this, in Taylor’s mind, Blackbeard wouldn’t envision some epic fantastical creature; instead, Stede would “just be like a goldfish. He’d just be like a sweet harmless goldfish.” In putting sketches together of the ensemble, Taylor acknowledges the symbolism of the goldfish motif: “There’s a huge Chinese element that we have coming through, and goldfish in Chinese culture is considered lucky.” As this vision of Stede was responsible for helping bring Ed back to life, that luck was certainly there.

“I thought that was a pretty beautiful thing, that they meet each other under the ocean and then they find each other,” Taylor gushes. “And so I went a little deep on that, but really he’s just a goldfish.” In order to achieve the goldfish mermaid look, Taylor teamed up with props master Hayley Egan, who’s based out of Australia. “She happens to excel at making mermaid tails,” Taylor shares.

After securing Egan’s involvement, Taylor says, “We fit Rhys in a jumbo stretch long skirt and made sure it was really tight so he could still sort of do this dolphin [swimming] action. And then we bought these mono fins, which you can purchase online and put your feet in.” Safety was key, though. “He had to swim really deep and for a really far distance, and he’d never done anything like that before,” Taylor explains. “So it had to be really safe and doable.”

Once that was figured out, Taylor says Egan “cast something like 3,000 hand-sculpted silicon scales. There’s something like five kilograms of glitter in the whole thing. And then we hand-dyed pleated chiffon for all the fins, so that when he was swimming through the water, it would have this magic feel.”

While the scene may play as emotional and romantic, the story behind getting Stede’s mermaid look from Australia to New Zealand was actually quite comical. “[Egan] sliced two suitcases in half, filled [them with the mermaid tail], and then when it went through customs, the customs guy said to her, ‘Are you bringing fish into this country?’ And she’s like, ‘Yes, yes I am.'”

In total, there were four tails, including “a practice tail, a stunt tail, because Rhys had to do quite a few lessons before we got the real one on. And the real one was super precious, and chlorine’s very strong, it eats fabrics away, so we wanted to save the hero one for the hero shot,” Taylor reveals. When it came time to film, “We put him in [the tail], and it was just amazing.” In order to get Darby into the pool, Taylor says a ramp had to be built and the actor was placed in a wheelchair while costumed “and pushed in.” As unglamorous as it sounds, she adds, “it was like Rhys’s dream come true.”

How Kate Bush Entered the Music Mix

It’s safe to say Kate Bush has been having a moment on TV since last year’s “Running Up That Hill” needle drop on Stranger Things, but music supervisor Maggie Phillips says, “This Woman’s Work” was selected before Netflix‘s hit made headlines with their use of the aforementioned song. “When we were placing [the song in the season lineup],” Phillips says, “it was maybe weeks after Stranger Things, and I was worried that we would look like copycats.”

Phillips maintains that the song was in the mix before, but it ultimately “doesn’t matter because really what matters is that Kate Bush is a queen and more and more people need to know her music.”

She says, “From what I heard from David [Jenkins], it was a song that Taika was attached to.” At first, Phillips was reluctant to go with the song due to its prior uses, but “David told me not to worry about [that], that people have short-term memory when it comes to music.”

While she debated with the team over cutting it, “[David] has the visuals in his mind. I don’t. I’m just hearing it with a script and I had no clue how it was going to work until I saw the first cut, and it was beautiful and they picked a part of the song that worked really well with the visuals, so they sort of made it their own,” Phillips explains. “They added a different context to the song that I wouldn’t have been able to imagine myself. So they proved me wrong for sure.”

It’s hard to imagine the scene without Bush’s song. “It changes the way you listen to the song,” Phillips notes. “I got chills watching it and I know that song so well and haven’t gotten chills like that in a long time.” With all of the buildup, “You’re waiting for them to have their romantic moment. You’re waiting for three episodes for that to happen. And so it’s so cathartic when that song comes on, and you see them come together in this fantasy world under the sea. It’s just perfect.” This led her to email Jenkins. “I was like, ‘You were right. I was wrong. But this was beautiful, and thank you so much.'”

Blackbeard’s Wet Wig Woes

Anyone watching the scene unfold would have to notice Blackbeard’s silver tresses weaving through the water, a feat much more difficult behind the scenes than the seemingly simple sequence onscreen. “We filmed that quite late in the season, and so we were really planning and thinking about that all the way through [filming]. I was a bit nervous,” hair and makeup designer Nancy Hennah admits. “I knew that he was going to have to be under the water with his wig on for quite a long time.”

Even with high-quality wig glue, Hennah says, “You can do everything you can to make that wig stay on, but there’s a limited amount of time that the glue will last. So we had to use different products than we would normally use to get the wig down.” Because the product Hennah normally uses to keep hair back in a wig is water soluble, “it melts, and the hair starts coming out from the lace, and it can ruin the whole look of the wig.” She had to come up with a creative fix.

“I glued his own hair back, and then we glued the lace on top of that, and wildly, it lasted right until the very last shot when they were dragging him through the water by the ankles,” Hennah reveals. “The wig just came off completely after they’d finished shooting. And so he came up out of the water, and the wig was off to the side, [and he goes], ‘I think my wig came off.'” She calls the success of the wig “incredible” and “just a fluke really.”

When it came to capturing Darby’s underwater look, it was all about blending the mermaid tail with his skin. “With Stede, Gypsy had a beautiful mermaid tail made, and we did a whole lot of practice with different types of silicon and things that we had to blend that piece between his skin and the tail. We made these pieces of silicon with glitter and things in them that we individually stuck over the top of the mermaid tail,” Hennah details.

Again, there were concerns about getting “things to stick underwater,” but watching the scene come together from behind the camera eased those. “[When] we were standing there on the set that day and watching the monitor, it just was so beautiful that we were all blown away by it, and that tank that they were filming in was a couple of stories deep, and to be out there in that water, it was challenging, and they both did so well. It just went off without a hitch. It was one of those great days where it just worked for everybody.”

Don’t miss what else is in store for the season. Stay tuned for additional interviews and content as the second season of Our Flag Means Death unfolds.

Our Flag Means Death, New Episodes, Thursdays, Max

Source: TV Insider

#rhys darby #taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #costume designer #costume details

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