#A little pinned post was due I believe

[mypoorlittlemaulmaul]

🪐 Hi! Welcome and thanks for visiting my little SW side blog! 🪐 This is where I want to reblog, in support of all the creators brightening my days, all the wonderful Star Wars related things I come across and, if I ever find the courage to do so someday, share my own art, OCs and writing. ^-^ Due to my failing health, I cannot promise I'll always be able to tag in details everything I reblog but I will always tag spoilers and tw!

🌠 For easy navigation, here are the main tags I'll use (I'll try to find some more original ones, promise!) : For Lore Stuff : #SW Lore For Costumes related posts : #Hutt Couture For writing reblogs : #wonderful writing! For other people's beautiful art : #amazing art! And of course : #other people's lovely OCs (Little introduction and my current reading list below if you're interested!)

As always : terfs, exclusionists, racists and other fascists are unwelcome, be gone.

˚　✦　🪐　.　　. 　 ˚　. 🌀　 . ✦　 　˚　*　　✦　˚ 　☄️　 ˚🌒　.˚　 　

🛸Hi. I'm Lyze, late 20s, biromantic ace and hailing from Europe. Star Wars has been a love of mine since I was a child but I've only been able to dwelve in Legends content and the Comics very recently. The Lore Nerd in me is extremely excited about exploring all that! ^-^ Having been sick and bedridden for a major part of my life, I'm extremely shy, anxious and bad at socializing, sooo... sorry if I come out super weird, I'm trying really hard to human. (Also non-native english speaker here, sorry for any mistakes!)

I'm currently in a (slow) Star Wars reading spree, so I might post about that a little? Especially the Lore I come across. If you feel like discussing SW novels with me, please do, I'd absolutely be delighted! I just finished Padawan by Kiersten White and started A New Dawn by J.J. Miller, enjoying both greatly! (I'm not really difficult, I just want adventures by proxi with my blorbos ^-^") If you have any SW book (or fics!) recs, I'd gladly hear about them!

🌌 On my little 2024 reading-list (likely not in that order tho, sorry!) : - Padawan by Kiersten White (canon) : I loved it! <3- A New Dawn by J.J. Miller (canon) : my current read, loving it so far! Kanan you little shit ahah - Rogue One : Catalyst by James Luceno (canon) - Brotherhood by Mike Chen (canon) - Master and Apprentice by Claudia Gray (canon) - Rogue Planet by Greg Bear (legends) : started it, Mace Windu my man ahah - The High Republic - Phase 1 Novels (canon)

☄️ On my reading wishlist are (I haven't managed to find them at the second-hand bookshop at prices I could afford yet) : - Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover (legends) - Ahsoka by E.K. Johnston (canon) - Queen's Shadow by E.K. Johnston (canon) - Dark Disciple by Christie Golden (canon) - A Certain Point of View anthology series (canon) - The Cestus Deception by Steven Barnes (legends) - The Clone Wars : Stories of Light and Dark anthology (canon) - Tales from a Galaxy Far Far Away anthology series (canon)

🌑 This is a positive place, no character negativity or trashing here. Life's too short, we go by Abed Nadir's word: "I just like liking things!".

[felassan]

EuroGamer: 'BioWare knew the deepest secrets of Dragon Age lore 20 years ago, and locked it away in an uber-plot doc'

Original creator David Gaider on how "some of the big mysteries are being solved".

Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

"As I write about the secrets hidden in Dragon Age's mysterious Fade, and as I uncover some of them playing Dragon Age: The Veilguard, one question keeps rising up in my mind. How much did BioWare know about future events when first developing the series more than 20 years ago? That's a long time, and back then BioWare didn't know there would be a second game, which is why Dragon Age: Origins has an elaborate and far-reaching epilogue. Why lay so much lore-track ahead of yourself if you don't think you'll ever get there? But look more closely at Origins and there are big clues suggesting BioWare did know about future Dragon Age events. There are obvious signs in the original game, such as establishing recurring themes like Old Gods and the Blight and Archdemons. But there's also Flemeth, Morrigan's witchy mother, who's intimately linked to events in the series now - more specifically: intimately linked to Solas. Does her existence mean Solas was known about back then too? There's only one person I can think of to answer this and it's David Gaider, the original creator of Dragon Age's world and lore. We've talked before, once in a podcast and once for a piece on the magic of fantasy maps, where we discussed the creation of Dragon Age's world. And much to my surprise, when I ask him what he and the BioWare team knew back then, he says they knew it all. "By the time we released Dragon Age: Origins, we were basically sure that it was one and done, but there was, back when we made the world, an overarching plan," he says. "The way I created the world was to seed plots in various parts of the world that could be part of a game, a single game, and then there was the overall uber-plot, which I didn't know for certain that we would ever get to but I had an understanding of how it all worked together. "A lot of that was in my head until we were starting Inquisition and the writers got a little bit impatient with my memory or lack thereof, so they pinned me down and dragged the uber-plot out of me. I'd talked about it, I'd hinted at it, but never really spelled out how it all connected, so they dragged it out of me, we put it into a master lore doc, the secret lore, which we had to hide from most of the team.""

"This uber-plot document was only viewable on a need-to-know basis, he says, and only around 20 people on the team had access to it - other senior writers mostly. And even though Gaider left the Dragon Age team after Inquisition, and then eight years ago BioWare altogether, meaning he didn't work on The Veilguard at all, he believes - by looking at the events in the new game - his uber-plot lore "has more or less held up". That's impressive. What's even more impressive, or exciting, is that back then he also envisaged a potential end state for the entire Dragon Age series - a point at which it would make no sense for the series to carry on. "I always had this dream of where it would all end, the very last plot," he says, "which I won't say because who knows, we could still end up there. But the idea that this uber-plot was this sort of biggest, finite... That the final thing you could do in this world that would break it was there as a 'maybe we would get to do that one day'... There was just the idea of certain big, world-shaking things that were seeded in that arc, some of which have already come to pass, like the return of Fen'Harel." You've read that correctly: the idea to have Fen'Harel, also known as the Dread Wolf, reappear, was seeded all the way back then, way before Inquisition - the game in which he does actually reappear. But the concept for Solas, as a character who was Fen'Harel in disguise, was a newer idea. "That spawned from a conversation I had with Patrick [Weekes] and a number of other writers," Gaider says, "as an idea of 'what if you had a villain that spent an entire game where he's actually in the party and you get to know him?' Now, the god version and his larger role in the plot, yes that was known, but not that he would be presented as a character named Solas." Fen'Harel being known about means the other elven gods were known about, which means all of that stuff Solas reveals about his godly siblings - that they're not gods at all but evil elven mages he locked away behind the Veil - was known about back then too. "Oh yeah," Gaider says. "Everything that Solas tells you [at the end of Inquisition DLC, Trespasser]: it's all part of that original uber-lore - that was all in our mind." But why have so much lore if you're not certain you'll get to ever realise it? Well, to create a believable illusion. By creating an "excess" of lore, as Gaider describes it, Origins made Thedas feel like an old and believable place. A place with history, rather than a Western set that was all facade and no substance."

"BioWare also did something canny with the lore it did relay then, too: it shared it through the voices of characters living in the world, making it inherently fallible. In doing this, Dragon Age veiled its truths behind biases. The church-like organisation of the Chantry proclaims one truth, while the elves and dwarves proclaim another. Sidenote: you can experience this yourself through different racial origin stories in Dragon Age: Origins. This way, there's no one, objective, irrefutable, truth. "To get the truth, you kind of have to pick between the lines," Gaider says. So even though elven legends are coming true through the existence of Solas and The Veilguard's antagonist gods, it doesn't mean that's the one and only truth. There's truth in what the Chantry teaches and what the dwarves say, he tells me, which ignites my curiosity intensely. BioWare has also been tricksy in how it's rubbed out the lore the further back in time you go. "In general, the further the history goes back, we always would purposefully obfuscate it more and more," Gaider says - "make it more biased and more untrue no matter who was talking, just so that the absolute truth was rarely knowable. I like that idea from a world standpoint, that the player always has to wonder and bring their own beliefs to it." It leads into a founding principle of Dragon Age, which is doubt - because without it, you can't have faith, a particularly important concept in the series. It's where the whole idea of the Chantry's Maker comes from and with it, the legend about the fabled Golden City - now the Black City - at the heart of the Fade. This is the very centre of the lore web, and, I imagine, it's close to the series endpoint Gaider imagined long ago. All secrets end there. Did Gaider know what was in the Black City when he laid down Origins' lore? That's the question - and it startles me how casually he answers this. "Oh, yeah," he says. "What was in the Black City: that's the uber-plot. I knew exactly. "Was it as detailed in the first draft of the world?" he goes on. "No. I had an idea of the early history because that's where I started making the world. So the things that were true early-early: I knew exactly what the Black City was and the idea of what the elves believed, and what humans believed vis-a-vis the Chantry - that was all settled on really early. Then I expanded the world and the uber-plot bubbled out of that.""

"Gaider shows me the original cosmology design document for Dragon Age: Origins as if to prove this - or rather for the game that would become DAO. The world was known as Peldea back then. I can't share this with you because I see it via a shared screen on a video call, and because Gaider doesn't want me to, mostly because the ideas are so old they're almost unrecognisable from what's in the series now. But I can tell you it's a document that's just over a page in length, and that there's a circular diagram at the top showing the world in the middle and the spirit realm ringed around it. And on that document is reference to the Chantry's beliefs about a God located in a citadel that can be found there. Gaider says BioWare knew about Fen'Harel (the Dread Wolf) 20 years ago when it was developing Dragon Age: Origins, and that he'd one day reappear. The Fade wasn't known as the Fade back then, either, but as the Dreaming, because it's the place people go when they dream - an idea that lives on still. And if that sounds familiar to any fans of The Sandman among you, it should. "I'd say The Sandman series was probably fairly prominently in my head," says Gaider. "I liked that amorphous geography that was born from the psyche of collective humanity. I'd say yes, if I was to point at something specifically, that's probably where the very first inspiration of it took root." It's a lot to take in, but it reinforces the admiration I have for Dragon Age. Just as I have when hearing about the creation of my other favourite fantasy worlds, such as A Song of Ice and Fire, I begin to understand the magnitude - and the deliberateness - of the plotting that went on. I wonder if one day the Dragon Age series will end in the way Gaider first imagined, albeit slightly altered by the many other pairs of hands shepherding it along now. What a curious feeling it must be to know, so many years in advance, where things might go. Where that end is, I don't know, but I do know we'll take a significant step towards it in The Veilguard. After all, we're coming into contact with gods who were there at the recorded beginning of it all. "Yeah - we have access to people who can tell us the truth from first-hand experience," Gaider says, "although again, it depends on what the writers did with it. But if they continued the tradition of Dragon Age, you never know for sure if Solas is telling you everything, or what you're learning is the entire truth. "But yes, some of the big mysteries are being solved. I mean, will they one day definitively tell you about the Maker? Will we crack the big mysteries of the world and just make them answered finally? And does that ruin one of the central precepts that Dragon Age is founded upon? Maybe," he says. "Ultimately, that lore, when you make it big and you hint at it and hint at it and hint at it, it becomes a Chekhov's Gun of sorts. Eventually you got to pony up.""

[source]

[formulaonecrumbs]

junie (you better be studying.)! how about osc taking care of the apartment and reader after surgery and him just being the best boyfriend ever

-🧸

he might be perfect

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: oscar takes care of reader after surgery and proves he’s the best boyfriend ever.

warnings: post-surgery care, extreme softness and fluff

A/N: i was definitely studying 🤥 ANYWAYYSSS this one is shorter SORRY some of my newer fics might be but i’ll try to lengthen them for y’all to enjoy. i better see u giggling to this regardless tho. i love uuuuu ❤️❤️

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

the apartment is so quiet you could hear a pin drop — and yet, somehow, it feels full.

oscar’s moving around softly, picking things up, putting them away. he’s being careful with the dishes, careful not to make too much noise, careful like you might break if he even breathes too loud. you’re curled up on the couch, half asleep, stitches still aching under your loose hoodie, a blanket tugged up to your chin.

you watch him from the corner of your eye. he fluffs the pillows before sliding your pain meds closer to you on the coffee table. he sets a glass of water next to them. he lights the candle you like — the vanilla one — like he knows the smell makes you feel less sick.

then he comes over, kneels down in front of you, and pushes your hair out of your face with both hands.

“you feeling okay, pretty girl?” he asks, voice soft, thumb stroking under your eye where it’s a little puffy from crying due to post-surgery pain.

you just nod, but he knows you better than that. he leans forward to kiss your forehead, your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth — slow, patient kisses like he has nowhere else to be but here with you.

“you need anything? food? heat pack?”

you shake your head, and his brow furrows a little, worried, but he doesn’t push. he just tucks the blanket tighter around you and presses another kiss to the top of your head.

later, he helps you up and carries you — literally carries you, because you’re still so sore — to bed. he sets you down so, so gently, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and gets you settled with a heating pad at your stomach and his hoodie pulled over your hands.

he slides in beside you, tugs you against him, wraps his arms around you tight.

“got you,” he murmurs, voice already fading into sleep, his heart steady under your ear. “i’m not going anywhere.”

and you believe him, because it’s oscar, and he’s already given you a hundred reasons to.

THE END :>

[kaitawrites]

Silent Whispers (2)

Pairing: "Wolverine" Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader

word count: 1.1k Warnings: smut, creampie, angst, Notes: This is 18+ as there are sexual themes within the story. This is a continuation of this post Silent Whispers. I hope you enjoy it all!

Taglist: @amelia262006 @clairealeehelsing @arrowenchantress @marcybug @cosmicmagicgirl @killerwendigo

“Logan, you can't just mope and drink all day,” Ororo exclaims. Watching Logan continue to sip on his cup of whiskey, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut. He continues to ignore Ororo as he tries to reason with him. “You know she wouldn’t want this.” Logan harshly slams the glass onto the table, his eyes opening to glare daggers at Ororo. “Shut the fuck up” He mutters. 

It’s been 5 months and Logan didn’t get a lick of sleep. Up looking for you and trying to find you. He already ran to Charles to ask on your whereabouts. When he told him that you were no where to be found. He just couldn’t understand how you disappeared the way you did. He puts his face into his hands. “I don’t know what else to do. I am nothing without her.” Ororo shakes her head at him. “We will keep looking for her. We will let you know if anything comes up.” With that Ororo leaves Logan in the kitchen alone. 

All Logan can think about is you. He closes his eyes and thats where he could hear your voice. “How would you feel about settling down, lo?” Logan was at first shocked with the question. He rubs his hands on your left shoulder, caressing and massaging. “I mean I haven’t thought about that really.” You move your whole body to face Logan. Your beautiful eyes behind your long lashes. “You never thought of us settling down? Marriage? A baby?” Logan’s eyes run along your facial features. “We’re mutants. How would we be able to settle down? You seen what happened to Magneto and his family.” He watches your delicate features scrunch up a bit into a grimace. “Yea, you’re right. I think I’m going to get some rest. Good night.” You turn away from him, facing the opposite direction from him in the bed. 

That’s all he’s been thinking about. Living the good long life with you. But he was afraid. Afraid of losing you like he lost the others. Afraid someone will take you from him. Unknowingly pushing you away due to his insecurity. Now look at him. Lost you just as he feared. He clenches his fists in frustration. He couldn’t believe he just let you go like that. Pushing you so far away that you literally run right out his life. Jumping out the window and all. 

He can still remember your touch. The way you would give him both pleasure and comfort. The strong warmth that comes off your body that wrapped around his entire being. The way your kisses lead down his neck and to his chest. He held your chin so he could connect a kiss. You left him breathless, his eyes showing how mesmerized he was by you. “You ready?” A smirk was on your lips as you look down at his exposed chest and give him a little glance. 

He gives a slight nod. You trail down his body with your fingers. With elegance and swiftness, his pants are thrown on the ground. Your hands delicately holds him, trailing kisses up and down his cock. You hear the hitch in Logan’s breath and his hands grip onto the sheets once you finally enter it into your mouth. Your rhythm was slow and sensual knowing this is the exact opposite of what Logan wants. The evidence is in the way his hips buck up into your mouth. He doesn’t make a move on your hair or head because last time that happened, he gave you a new hair cut. 

“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” He grabs you up before you could say anything. Flipping everything around and having you pinned down below him. “You have no idea the effects you got on me, princess .” A big grin was on your lips at his words. “Then show me.” Your lips lock with another. The kiss was filled with hunger, desperation, and love. He rips everything you have on in half. “Try to get away from this.” A sharp gasp escapes your lips as Logan doesn’t give you any warning. 

His pace was slow and deliberate. The same pace you was going at before. You let a whine out as you try to wiggle into the thrusts. “Go faster.” A cocky grin appears on Logan’s lips. “What did you say princess?” You arch your back away from the bed. “Please go faster.” Logan doesn’t waste not even a second before quickening his pace. Your moans bounce off the wall as you grip onto the sheets. Logan’s eyes never leave your body. Looking over all your features as if he wants to have this memory ingrained in his brain. His watching your breast bounce against your chest, the way your lips were slightly agape as moans left your lips. “I’m so close,” You whisper, your hands moving to grip onto Logan’s arms. Your nails digging into his flesh, the slight stinging adding onto the pleasure. You finish with a wail. It didn’t take long for Logan as you squeezed him so tight. His breath hitches as his climax was close. “I’m gonna fill you up,” A desperate whine escapes your lips. 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Huh, I can’t hear you.” You nod your head with a quickness. Nails digging deeper into his skin, a hiss escaping his lips. A low growl leaves his lips as he empties himself in you, thick ropes of cum leaking out of you. He collapsed next to you. ‘I’m glad you both are enjoying yourselves on your day off. But it would be nice if you both kept it down.’ Charles voice is heard in the both of your heads. You guys both staring at each other in horror at the sound before erupting into laughter. 

Two years had went by and there is still no sign of you. At this point, Logan had become more bitter and harsh. The wrinkles on his face began to deepen on his face. His eyes were colder and darker than before. He would drink himself half to death if he could. He sat at the local bar, lips on another glass of whiskey. Everything just phased passed him, nothing would last. Nothing ever lasts but him. 

Ororo enters the bar with urgency, her legs walking quickly to Logan. She knew where he would be since she was the only one who had personally checked on Logan past few months. Logan always went to the same spot as always. He never left the seat. “We found her, Logan.” At first, the words didn’t register. He continued to drink the rest of the bitter liquid. Ororo places a hand on his shoulder. She whispers your name. “We found her.” It finally clicked and with a quickness, he was standing up out of his chair. “Where.” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth. 

Marvel Masterlist

Silent whispers Masterlist

[tinydefector]

Can we get a first contact au with Rodimus becoming increasingly possessive towards the human the lost light found.

My Human

Rodimus x Human First contact AU

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

Rodimus masterlist

Request are open, please go to pinned post to read rules.

Rules and Masterlist

Had a lot of fun writing this. I may have written him as more Protective Possessions than anything else, but all up, I'm very happy with how this turned out. But I've seen so where the human is distressed by Possesive Rodimus in First contact Aus so I wanted to go with them being just as distressed about being taken away from him.

________

Rodimus hated this, he hated being away from his little human. He paces back and forth in front of medlab, at this rate he would wear marks into the floor, he regretted that his little friend had been found out. It had resulted in Ratchet and Ultra Magnus taking them from his care. It had now been nearly three cycles since they had been taken from him and he didn't like when others were in charge of their care. 

Ratchet and Ultra Magnus believed he wasn't skilled enough to care for them. Yes there was a language barrier between them but they had been working on it with hand signals, nods and head shakes along with visual items. He was gentle with them, he did his best to make them comfortable and they didn't set off any signs that they felt uncomfortable or upset with him. 

Rodimus keeps his energy field taut with restraint, his optics flick to the door as he faces Ratchet, though his unrest is clear. "Look, I know you and Magnus think I'm not 'responsible' enough or whatever, but that's my little human! I've been taking good care of them since picking them up, You can't just keep me away from them!." His plating flares briefly. " you both swoop in, say I'm not 'qualified,' and carry them off for your tests and whatnot. Please just let me see them!" Rodimus remains poised, despite his clear frustration he tries to not let it show.

Ratchet isn't impressed by the situation, Rodimus had hidden the human for who knows how long before they found out about them and it was due to the fact Swerve had seen the human with Rodimus late one cycle. The medic had a hard time trusting Rodimus to be responsible for such a fragile being. 

The smaller beings' eyes light up the moment they see Rodimus, a small collection of thrills and vocal chirps falling from them as they see the Speedster finally being let into medical, they stand quickly moving to the edge of the table calling out to him eagerly.  

Ratchet huffs in exasperation as the human calls out so eagerly for the red mech. He grudgingly has to admit their attachment seems genuine. But that doesn't absolve proper procedure. Rodimus had withheld information, hidden an organic, he was lucky that they were in good health otherwise Ratchet wouldn't have let him within the radius of the lab. 

"Alright, alright, calm down, both of you." Ratchet levels a stern glare between them. "I'm letting you see each other as a trial, Rodimus. One slip-up and they go right back to my care, and you do not get to see them at all. got it?" 

Rodimus nods eagerly, and Ratchet steps aside with reluctance. The human chirps happily as he swiftly moves closer to the table they are stood on. "Be gentle, and watch your energy, you're lucky you haven't caused any medical problems" Ratchet grumbles. But his rebuke as he reads over the few tests he had run over them. 

Rodimus beams down at his human. "Missed you too. Don't listen to Ratch', okay? I'll always keep you safe." He directs the latter at Ratchet. The medic huffs but doesn't disagree. Seeing the human's contentment, maybe Rodimus has earned his chance after all. He'd be keeping a close optic on the two.

The human almost flings themself at Rodimus snuggling against his plating, had it been any other Mech their plating would have been cold but Rodimus ran hot due to his Outlier ability and they seemed to swarm to him for the heat. Their arms curl around his shoulder plating little thrills leaving them in delight to see him after not being able to see him for days now.

Eventually they pull away hands moving quickly as more noises leave them, trying to ask him questions he can't understand, giving a rather rude gesture towards Ratchet as they voice their displeasure over being stuck here. Ratchet isn't particularly happy but given the circumstances it was better than the human needing multiple injections and a drip. 

Rodimus chuckles at the rude gesture aimed at Ratchet. "Eheh, I'll let that one slide since I know he's been keeping you against your will." He hums softly while pulling them back into a hug which they eagerly accept. "But play nice," Rodimus whispers, directing a pointed look at Ratchet. "Don't want Ratch' banning me from visits, y'know?" 

Rodimus strokes their back gently, happy to finally have them back even if it was only for a little, he didn't like it but he would fight if it came down to that so they didn't have to stay in the Medlab. 

It's only when Ultra Magnus walks into the room does the human become rather vocal, seeming to scowl in displeasure, another flurry of noise coming from them as they clinging to Rodimus expecting the larger mech to take them again.

 After all this was a massive violation of ship conduct having a human on board and Rodimus had hidden them for who knows how long. Rodimus himself was still rather angry over the separation for cycles. Magnus' field bleeds disapproval as he notes the organics ferocity. " Rodimus, your failure to disclose finding an intelligent alien has compromised ship safety. That you concealed them speaks poorly of your leadership. Do you have any idea what could have happened if it was another species, think of the Viruses, and other contamination you could have brought onto this ship!"

Rodimus' plating flares indignantly. "They were scared! I was looking after them, making sure they had everything they needed, rather than dragging them in here for pit knows what kind of tests and dragged me to the brig!" 

"Enough, both of you!" Ratchet interjects sternly. "Arguing will solve nothing. Your disapproval is clear, Magnus, but separating them now could cause harm. For their sake, I advise they remain in Rodimus' care, But they are to be brought in Every Luna Cycle for check ups, do I make myself clear captain?."

Magnus' optics narrow, he goes to argue about the situation, But the sound of heavy foot fall makes them tense as Megatron stalks in, red optics lingering on the group. The co-captain looks to Rodimus with a raised brow before his optics flicker to the human in his arms. "What is the issue here?" He finally asked. Rodimus' fields blast protectiveness as Megatron's gaze settles on the human clinging to him. "There's no issue, Megatron. Just everyone freaking out that I took in a stray. As if providing refuge is a crime." 

Magnus stiffens. "Harbouring an unknown organism without informing command put the whole ship at risk. Repercussions must follow regulations."

Ratchet shoots him a glare. "Perhaps. But separating them now risks worse harm." He faces Megatron decisively. Megatron considers it thoughtfully. While Rodimus broke protocol. 

" they remain in Rodimus' care. But you will face consequences, Rodimus, for keeping them hidden, you should have come to one of us over this when you found them." His gaze levels on Magnus, daring dissent. Magnus' field churns discontent but he nods curtly. Rodimus flashes Megatron a covert grateful look. “Look I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone but I knew this was how Magnus was going to react, they needed help and I wasn't just going to leave them” 

The group continued talking about how things would proceed from there. It's only after the medical check is finished are the two finally allowed to leave, the human clinging to Rodimus as he walks with them. It catches many mechs, some doing double takes and others just blatantly staring at the human shocked over the strange organic. Rodimus did his best to shield the human from prying optics as he strode briskly down the corridor. He didn't want to deal with the rest of the mechs, or overstimulate his companion. 

"It's alright,” he murmured soothingly. "Just ignore ee. They're not used to fleshies is all." He shot a warning glare at Swerve as the mini rolled by curiously. Relief washes over him as they reach his hab suite, Rodimus shut and locked the door behind them. "Whew, finally some peace! Nobody gonna bother us here, promise." 

He settled gently on his berth, cradling the human close. "I know it's all weird and scary dealing with bots as big as mechs. But you're safe with me" Rodimus' field radiated comfort as he chatted to help them relax, he knew full well they didn't understand him, but he knew the rumbles and vibrations from his chassis would calm them. He was careful not to let his distaste for how the others acted show - he knew he had messed up but it was worth it. 

They let out a soft noise as he finally laid down on his berth, it brought him comfort knowing he finally had them back safely. The human snuggles in to his plating, a hand coming up to his faceplate as they check him over as if he had been hurt. Rodimus' optics crinkled warmly at the human's gentle inspection of his faceplates. "Aww, you're checking me over now, huh? Making sure grumpy Ratch' didn't do anything to me?" 

He nuzzled their tiny hand affectionately with the tip of his nasal ridge. Primus, they were so tiny and fragile, but their caring touch warmed his spark. "Don't you worry about me, little bit. I'm tough, it'll take more than their glares to take me down." Rodimus chuckled softly. 

Turning serious, he added, "But it means a lot that you care. I'm here for you too." He let out a soft noise as they curl up against him, happy to finally have him back, it makes a smile etch into his lips as he covers them with one of his servos to make sure they don't fall off his chassis. “get some rest littlespark” he hums softly. 

_______

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@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

@averysillylittlefellow

[nalascat]

Plasmashipping Fanfiction Reccomendations

Hi!! I have been obsessed with plasma since about late 2017 and at that time I probably read just about every plasma fanfic known to man. or the fandom. Or whatever

ANYWAY. here's a list of my favorites!!! it's been a while for a lot of them so. Yeagh.

Your Fault, My Fault, Whatever by whichlights

It was all Jay's fault, really. Kai refused to think about his own part in this whole mess, because it was so much easier to pin it all on Jay. - News reporters catch sight of Kai and Jay trying wedding cakes, and get the idea they're engaged, which is funny, hilarious even, except... they're not even dating?

starting off strong with the fanfic that probably literally changed my brain chemistry at age 14 and is the reason I got so attached to plasma. I read this probably a billion times and I am almost certain my writing style came from or started from this fic.

I LOVE fake engagement/dating aus and this fic is literally the reason I have like 5 in my wips for other fandoms. it's so good and it had me hooked every single time I reread it. I believe I owe it a reread soon.

Earbuds by Reddshoes

(Podfic)

The city of Ninjago is protected by the six ninja: Green, Red, Blue, Gray, Black, and White. Kai loves working as the Red Ninja, and honors the bonds he's formed with his teammates more than anything else. Things start to get complicated after he accidentally discovers Blue's identity- and, after he realizes Blue doesn't recognize him, a little awkward as well. Along with all of this, a new criminal organization on the rise is pushing the strength of the ninja's bonds, threatening them to fall apart.

So uh basically ninjago is gotham now and miraculous ladybug-inspired identity hiding hijinks ensue. (ok hand emoji)

Okay, can't have a plasma fic rec list without Earbuds. I was following along with this fic as it was being posted and I was OBSESSED. It is brilliantly written and the au that Reddshoes has built is just??? *chefs kiss*

If I were to say which fic defined plasma, I would say that THIS. this is the one, guys.

STUTTER? by whichlights

Kai's way too unfairly cute.

Another fic by whichlights! This one is short but it's super super sweet!! They are everything to me

Also I am very upset that that animation meme is private. Dude I remember watching it over and over and over.

Dumb by FroggyBowtie

It was so sure. So excited and so full of love. Was Kai that dumb for taking it as genuine? He shook his head, he'd think about all that later. When he'd be alone and it'd be too dark to tell if tears were shed.

proposal scene fic! angsty but very very good. loveeeeee the angst u can drag from the scene and FroggyBowtie did it excellently!

Would you be the Yin to my Yang? by suluswife

(Podfic)

Would you be the Yin to my Yang?

God, how Kai hated those words.

I'm allowed to add one of my own fics and this is my favorite of what I wrote forever ago. another s10 proposal fic and ALSO angsty oops sorry. that's all I gotta say here

Flowers and Electricity by That_Girl_Who_Is_WAY_Too_Cheerful

The ninja have returned from the First Realm and Kai can't work out how he feels about anyone anymore.

(Or, Kailor and Jaya crumbles due to time apart and Kai finds himself considering Jay as an option)

AGH!!! this one is also super super sweet. this is one of those ones I can remember reading and it made me very happy gah!! Yes Kai go give Jay ur flowers

When your love rival is a frog by lem0n_shark

(Podfic)

Jay loves frogs. Kai does not. (some good ole movieverse plasma for the soul)

Kyle. I think about Kyle sometimes. Kai ur out here pissed at a frog. Calm down.

The PINING in this fic is excellent. And also I was simultaneously rooting for Kai and the Frog at the same time. Oopsies

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T by ranvirn47

Kai is really bad at skating. And who better to teach him than Jay? But when the boy who's teaching him often makes him feel weak in the knees, the wheels on his feet aren't what's giving him the most trouble standing. - aka disaster gay Kai + skates = a bad time

the REQUIRED trope for plasma? Rollerskating date. This one is written perfectly and they're skating and THEY'RE IN LOVE!!!

sparks by plasmara

when ninjago city, a city where nothing ever happens, suddenly undergoes a rapid technological transformation, all of its citizens are pleasantly surprised. but when people start disappearing, especially those speaking out about the AI that’s taken over their lives, the FBI suspects something darker at play. so they send in their two best agents to infiltrate the city’s new high-tech world, and uncover the truth. but as they dig deeper into this mysterious city and its sudden transformation, they uncover a lot more than they bargained for — with the case, and each other. aka plasma undercover agents as husbands do their jobs and fall in love in the process bc I’m a sucker for fake dating/marriage to lovers

AND!!! Finishing off this list with the fanfic that has wholeheartedly dragged me right back to where I belong in my place as a plasmashipper.

Another "fake" au and this time they are fake married and they're both PINING and dude I am in love here. AND we have a whole mystery and EVERYTHING

This one has kept me on the EDGE of my seat since I started following along and every time I see it update, I SPRINT to go read it. And that reminds me. I have to go read the newest chapter ehhee

[muffinsin]

It’s time, everyone…

Happy 1 Year Anniversary to this blog!!🫀

┏━━━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━━━┓

I can’t believe it’s been so long, y’all! A huge thank you to all who stuck with me from the start and support my works, to all who have joined me on this journey, to all my sweet anons and my lil lurkers and, of course, a big thank you to everyone actively interacting with this blog! And an especially big thank you! to my friend, who has made the awesome imagine above as a surprise present for me!! :)

┗━━━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━━━┛

And good news, everybody! With this post, the inbox is back open!

Below you’ll find some stats and fun facts about this blog and my writing! ;)

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

➼ I’ve made around 1.250 posts in 1 year

➼ I like to listen to quiet, slow music when I write, or write in silence

➼ The first mutual I’ve had was my girlfriend, @darkittensniper

➼ My first post was my first pinned, stating things like a blog overview, much like the current pinned post

➼ My first HC post was based on the levels of dominance and submission of the Dimitrescu sisters

➼ I have 4 moots XP

➼ I still don’t understand reblogs a year in, rip

➼ I've made a few OCs so far, though my favorite two and most popular ones are Ingrid and Lauren, both funnily enough OCs I've paired with Cassandra

➼ I've written two stories/fanfictions so far. One, the lost maiden, has been abandoned, even as I might return to it should I find the time. The other, Smoke and Mirrors, is at 97 chapters currently and is nearing its completion. Reaching that point I will begin to upload it, too

➼ One of my favorite posts was my feral Cassandra post. My favorite collection is the Halloween one due to how I got to include my fav 2 OCs in it

➼ Sometimes I lock in and write multiple prompts a day. Others take me days XP

➼ I haven’t got a favorite between the three sisters :)!

➼ One of the times I was most active was during the time of August 24 and December 24’!

➼ I write far faster when I'm on my laptop, but usually write tumblr prompts on my phone, as I don't always have a lot of spare time to actually get on my laptop. That's also why there's the occaisonal typo in my work, from the phone auto-correcting things or when I type too fast XD

On a side note- got a cute little Alcina as a present :)🙌🥳 considering painting her👀

[k1ng-ej]

I saw you were doing Shadow the hedgehog requests, I was wondering if you can make shadow x reader having a picnic in a warm day, thank you

Tastes like strawberry

Note: Thank you for the request! this one is a little shorter, but i hope you enjoy! for anyone interested in sending a request, check out my pinned post for rules & info.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀୨ ₊ ┈ ⪩⪨   ┈ ₊ ୧

. . .

The sun cast warm, refreshing rays to the earth beneath her, allowing plant life to receive the sunlight it needed for growth, and providing the perfect day for everyone to get out and enjoy a breath of fresh air. You were sat at home, gazing out of your window and awaiting your boyfriends return. Today proved to be a nice day, and you desired to go out and enjoy it, instead of staying inside and missing out on the comforting weather. The harsh winters recently made you miss the warmth and beauty of summer, and so you were excited for when Shadow returned from his trip to the market. You had eagerly asked him if he could spend a few hours outside with you, and he agreed, needing a day of peace to relax. You told him you wanted to have a picnic, but didn't have any fruits or snacks to bring, he offered to make a quick trip to grab some.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the couch and strolled into the kitchen, beginning to prepare waters and simple sandwiches to bring along with you. You heard the click of the front door opening and poked your head around the corner to see a familiar raven hedgehog stepping in. He ran a frustrated hand through his highlighted quills, which were due for a touch up soon. Quickly, you washed your hands and hurried over to him. You took the paper bag that carried the fruits you requested from his hands, and placed them on the kitchen counter.

Taking Shadows gloved hands into yours, you offered him a warm smile. "Hey, try and relax today, okay?"

He had a tendency to take on workloads greater than he could handle, he wanted to believe he could take on multiple problems at once, but it would lead to him being overworked and stressed, which in the end, made him moody and not fun to be around.

With a quick, subtle nod, Shadow snaked his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your comforting scent. You smiled, beginning to gently stroke the top of his head. You knew better than trying to force a conversation with someone who already didn't like them, and on top of that was stressed out of their mind. Today was a day for you two to relax together and enjoy each other's presence, and the warm weather.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace and got to work washing the fruits and putting them into containers to bring along for the picnic. Shadow had made himself comfortable on the couch, enjoying the pleasant silence that settled in your home. Not long after, you two were setting off towards a secluded spot for the picnic.

Arriving in a small field, beneath a large tree that provided some shade, Shadow threw down a soft blanket over the lush grass before settling down. The field you two were in was beautiful, with blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies, the breeze was warm and provided a relaxing environment. Shadows expression seemed much more relaxed in this setting, the crease between his brows seemed to have less tension, and his lips rested in a fine line. You enjoyed seeing him like this, it was a rare sight, and you learned to savor every moment of it. With a content smile on your face, you sat down next to Shadow, placing the basket of goods in front of you. You felt a sudden weight on your shoulder, when you looked over you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend resting his head on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

Your heart swelled, and you reached into the basket and pulled out strawberries along with some chocolate you had melted before. You knew Shadow was not the biggest fan of sweets, but he seemed to enjoy chocolate covered strawberries a lot. Most weekends, if he were home, he would pepper you with kisses while shyly asking if you could make him some, it was an adorable interaction, The Ultimate Lifeform asking you to make him his favorite treat instead of buying cheap, store bought ones.

Dipping a strawberry into the chocolate, you brought it up to his mouth. "Open."

He quirked his brow, but parted his lips for you. You fed him the chocolate covered strawberry, he hummed with confusion, which then turned into a hum of satisfaction as he chewed.

"Good?"

"It's good, thank you." His eyes slowly opened as he lifted his head to look at you. His gaze was filled with nothing but affection for you, it made your heart warm.

You chuckled, reaching your hand up to his face and wiping away some chocolate that smeared. Bringing your thumb to your lips, you licked the excess. You watched as Shadows eyes slightly widened, and he stared at you with a blush creeping up his cheeks. Before you could ask him what was wrong, his hand was cupping your cheek and his lips were pressed against yours in a deep kiss. Your heart skipped a beat, his fur was soft beneath your fingertips as your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling him flush against you. You felt him smile against your lips, his free hand moving to the small of your back. His tongue pressed against the entrance of your mouth, and with pleasure you allowed his tongue to slip past your lips. He had the subtle taste of chocolate and strawberry on his tongue. A soft moan rumbled in his chest, a delicious sound that ignited butterflies in your belly. You yearned for more, to have him closer, despite having him pressed against your chest, but your lungs begged for air and you would have to part from the kiss.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you rested your forehead against his, breathing heavily. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, and parted lips as his thumb tenderly rubbed your cheek.

"Shadow…" You began, fingers unconsciously twirling the fur on the back of his neck.

"Shut up." His tone was soft and sarcastic as he pulled you into another kiss, but this time it was brief, just to get another taste of your lips and hear the delectable sound you made when his lips connected with yours. When he pulled away this time, he shuffled to rest his head in your lap, demanding you to feed him more strawberries, to which you happily obliged.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail. 

“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.” 

“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you. 

“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts. 

The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish. 

The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward. 

“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt. 

His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss. 

You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder. 

“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly. 

The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare. 

“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.” 

He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.” 

You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit. 

The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples. 

“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.” 

“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.” 

“Horse pie? But he is fast.” 

“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.” 

“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.” 

“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.” 

“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.” 

You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker. 

“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.” 

You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road. 

“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask. 

“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.” 

You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well. 

“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.” 

“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?” 

“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.” 

He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry. 

⚔️

The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent. 

“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along. 

You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail. 

“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.” 

“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move. 

You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter. 

“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.” 

You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric. 

“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly. 

“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.” 

“Yes, your highness, but the king--” 

“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.” 

You stare at her unmoving. 

“They won’t allow it, your highness--” 

A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands. 

“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!” 

She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away. 

“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.” 

You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either. 

You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion. 

It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion. 

⚔️

The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains. 

You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party. 

Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist. 

“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance. 

You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head. 

“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.” 

He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth. 

“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow. 

“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.” 

“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.” 

“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down. 

He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it. 

“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls. 

You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose. 

⚔️

That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out. 

Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat. 

You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart. 

“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back. 

“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers. 

“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels. 

You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?” 

“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs. 

“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?” 

He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. 

“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds. 

“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.” 

He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.” 

“A skirmish?” 

“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.” 

“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.” 

“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.” 

“Yellow?” You wonder. 

“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”  

You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips. 

“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?” 

Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.” 

You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?” 

“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.” 

You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?” 

“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.” 

[hallowpen]

This post is going to be a combination of The Loyal Pin Episodes 5 and 6, as I was unable to post for episode five due to my travel schedule.

Let's start off with the two key highlights from Episode 5...

หม���สร่ง (pronounced 'muu sarong') is a Thai dish made of pork meatballs wrapped in egg noodles that are fried until golden and crispy. For this reason, the dish is literally translated as "Pork wrapped in Golden Threads". It is usually served with a plum dipping sauce.

The Thai name for the series is ปิ่นภักดิ์ ('Pin Phak'). ปิ่น serves as Khun Pin's nickname... but is also Thai for "hairpin". A tradition born from the Lanna Kingdom (อาณาจักรล้านนา), nobles and high-ranking officials would purchase hairpins of gold, silver, or brass to wear as a social status symbol of their wealth. The gift of a hairpin (usually a gift given from a suitor to their potential bride) would symbolize one's promise to care for its intended wearer. Hairpins are associated with the belief that they will help to preserve a couple's love and prevent it from fading over time. They are, therefore, representative of the true and lasting connection between Anil and Pin.

If you managed to survive Episode 6, let's discuss....

การซักผ้าด้วยเครื่องหอม - The process of washing clothes in fragrant water is pretty straightforward. A combination of herbs, spices, and florals are added to boiling water to create a natural detergent. The chosen additives can aid in stain and odor removal, reducing wrinkles, and preserving the color of the garments. The particular ingredients chosen in the series were 1) ลูกซัดคั่ว (roasted fenugreek seeds) - Also known as methi seeds, they smell and taste like maple syrup 2) ชะลูด (dried alyxia) - A climbing flowering plant that has a sweet and light fragrance, described to smell like honey 3) ใบเตย (pandan leaves) - A tropical plant whose soft aroma is described as having hints of rose, almond, and vanilla.

Thai rubies (พลอยสีทับทิม) are extremely rare and highly coveted, as they are far scarcer than diamonds. The rubies are not only admired for their beauty, but are known in Thai culture as one of the nine sacred gemstones. They are believed to hold auspicious meanings, and to bring long-lasting love to their wearer. Owning and wearing jewelry that features this incredibly valued gemstone is seen as a status symbol for royalty. Princess Alisa gifting these jewels to Pin for her birthday means she holds Pin in very high regard (it was hinted in the first episode that Alisa views Pin as a second daughter).

There are a few conversations and quotes from this episode that I would like to highlight.

The first is the conversation between Pin and Princess Patt:

"Can Princess Anil follow in Princess Patt's footsteps and stay unmarried?" "That would be quite unlikely, Lady Pin. [...] Savettavarit is a very famous, wealthy, and well-respectable family. Princess Anil will eventually have to get married. You will also have to get married as well, Lady Pin. I already have some prospects in mind."

There are certain expectations that women of royalty and nobility cannot escape from. The most prominent of which is to be married and have natural born children to preserve the line of succession. It is also important to note that these potential marriage prospects are always chosen by a daughter's parents...with the daughter having little to no say over the decision. Which leads me right into the next scene... when Anil is talking to Prik about having to leave for England sooner than she expected:

"I did not choose to do this, Prik."

Such a short and quick line... that holds so much meaning. Anil is a highly ranked princess yet, even she, must submit to the whims of her elder brother. Women hardly hold a say over their own lives within this society... and that's going to come into play, very obviously, later on in the series...

The last scene I wanted to mention was during Anil's planned dinner, when she and Pin were discussing Pin's birthday:

"What gift do you want from me for your birthday?" "Just wake up early to make merits and give alms to the monks with me, Your Highness."

I'm mentioning this scene for cultural reasons. In Thai culture, the tradition of making merit and giving alms together is tied to the beliefs of shared karma. The practice is said to bring prosperity to couples in their current life, and to ensure they will meet again in future lives. Pin's request is representative of her intentions to walk hand-in-hand with Anil in their present life, and in their future lives to come. I'm not crying... you are!!! 😭😭😭

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑲.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, a bit of fluff.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Alucard X You (the reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: Just a little one-shot scenario between you and affectionate, but yandere Alucard snuggled up in bed. The time takes place after sex. After refusing to cuddle with him, he spirals into a feeling of bloodlust as he gets himself ready to mark you as his.

𝖈𝖜: Blood drinking, if that counts. A bit of dubcon even though there isn’t really smut for this fic, and slight degradation (he calls you his pet).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Hello again, readers. So I’m back with a new fic and despite not uploading for a couple of weeks due to mental health reasons and school, I’m going to post this new fic I made which is a part of a series!

YANDERE PROMPT LIST BY: @writeformesinpie

PROMPT: “I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“A-Alucard….Just five more minutes…please….”

It was about nine o’ clock in the morning when all curtains were closed to prevent sunlight from penetrating through the glass windows.

….And there you were in bed, bare naked with the touch-starved vampire himself, your body shivering at the cold touch of your respective “lover.” Alucard was trying to cuddle you, to which you tried avoiding.

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, dear. You must lie with the beast before you who has been craving your touch for as long as a thousand years.”

“There you go again with your silly monologues, Alucard. Just let me be as I sleep, alright? I’m tired. You might as well kill some peasants outside or do your necessary duties for the day….just leave me be-”

A loud sound was heard as Alucard flipped you over.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as Alucard landed on top of you, pinning you down to the king-sized bed as his eyes glowed a bright shade of red. The look on his face intimidated you like a hungry wolf cornering its prey, his lips forming a smug smirk. You wanted to….no, you needed to run to a safe place where you could feel a bit of comfort. The look he’s been giving you was unlike his previous deed of cuddling your smaller figure.

Alucard let out a small chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, darling? Judging by your current state, there won’t be another time where you’ll refuse my orders.”

“But, Alucard, we’re-” you attempted to protest.

“We’re not what?” Alucard asked, tilting his head. “Not together?” He laughed in retaliation to your bewildered facial expression. Leaning closer to your ear, you felt chills run down your spine as he whispered intimately. “Very well, let me clue you in. Your blood is mine, in fact, your entire being is mine by the time I’ll have myself inside you. Sir Integra has chosen you to become my one and only pet whom I shall swear to protect with my very own life. You are far too fragile to let go. Let this moment consume your soul. Give yourself to me, and don’t look back.”

“Alucard…..please…” you whimpered. “I only agreed to sleep with you because….because…..!!!”

“Such a precious, sensitive little thing.”

His mouth opened wide and bit down aggressively on your neck, drawing blood. You moaned loudly in return, trying to push away Alucard’s huge figure off of you. Your efforts to let yourself free were pointless, as he took advantage of your arms by grabbing your wrists and keeping them in place.

Alucard started to suck the blood out of your neck, leaving bruises and hickeys around it. He surely was doing all this for his own pleasure, so as to leave you aching for more. And boy, were you feeling real good.

“A-Alucard!!! I….I thought…you just wanted…a hug…..”

“Hm? I've changed my mind. From now on, what I want from you is something more sinister, something animalistic and disgusting to the untrained eye. I can never get enough of you, I’ll drink you down to the last sip. I have fallen for you, pet. Show a little gratitude for someone as powerful as I have swallowed their pride just to love and protect you dearly with all my strength.”

“I appreciate it, but….”

“Has your pride gotten the best of you, dear? After we got our freak on the previous night? I bet it didn’t. Just admit how you developed feelings for me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not the case! I-” you stammered.

“Ah, so you still refuse to admit your feelings, hm? Very well, I’ll show you how desperate of a mess you’ll be once I bend you over.”

It was too late. You and Alucard were about to spend the whole morning going at it until night, leaving you with no choice but to spend time with the creature who has lusted for you since Integra has chosen you as his pet.

There was no turning back.

It was about to be a long day.

[hoseoksluna]

APPROACH | jjk

pairing: yandere!jungkook x strategy!oc (feat. police officer!taehyung; nari)

genre: angst

rating: 18+

summary: due to his reasons, jungkook loses the will to live only to come across an approach that changes his life.

word count: 8.1k

pin | playlist

warnings: dark content not to be romanticized — physical violence, mentions of cum eating, trauma, ptsd, depression, mention of rape, lack of hygiene, bullying.

FORMAL WARNING: jeon jungkook written in this work is a figment of my imagination and does not reflect the living person and his family.

luna’s note: it's finally here. i can't believe i haven't posted in a month. i missed you so much. this is the fourth chapter of strategy, the series will have five in total. i hope you enjoy, my loves. let me know what you think. mwah <3

past chapters: STRATEGY ; SCHEME ; RUSE ; masterlist

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster,

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

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A silken wind breezes through, fluid with its brisk motive. Its weightless body penetrates the arcane, expansive silence hovering in the midst of the two people Jungkook cared about the most, drifting inside his skull through his nostrils. His muscles are so numb that he doesn’t realize he’s breathing in the fresh air until he unriddles the wind’s task. The fear’s teeth cease its gnawing at his soul, slinking out of his system with each swell of his lungs, and Jungkook senses himself to be getting rid of it in all entirety. The translucent helper sweeps his anxious thoughts about the little kitten clinging to his neck away, refreshing his mind enough to start thinking about how to protect her, and how to protect her fast. 

Everything about this moment is unpredictable. It reminds him of the times of when he was as little as the kitty, fearing his father’s hand, fearing his own childish logic, fearing his own shadow would get him in trouble. He feels as though he’s standing on the cusp of the portal that would bring him back to that world, belonging to his inner child, but something, as if by an invisible string, lacking any colors, prevents him from even taking a peek inside. 

He has to stay strong—an adult, a caretaker, a father. And he has to stay strong for Baby. Has to peel her off his neck and get her to a place of safety while he deals with the wrongdoing that affects her life as much as it affects him. He worries, however, that if he puts her down, he will lose her like he lost the two of his closest in one minute, that he won’t find her like he can’t find the warmth in the faces of those two he loved. 

There’s a challenge that darkens the rings around your irises, a pale petal’s flush coloring your cheeks from your restless sleep. For a split second, Jungkook wonders what this moment would’ve looked like, had you not carelessly dismissed him and taken that shower—had you instead shared the beauty of the newness with him by lazing around in your cold bed, but this is where a dead end splits his train of thought. Was it newness at all, the intercourse that happened? The blood and the tears, the gentleness and care he gave you, was it all real? Or was it a part of your plan, a strategy of some sort? 

His cock feels heavy in his pants, marred by your feminine sap that gives him the sense of utter filthiness. He came here to seek refuge, did he not? Cleanse himself of your stain, cleanse Baby off her old life, all caused by the block in his mind because of you. He came here out of the tenderness of his heart only to run into a bigger obstacle, wearing nothing but a flimsy robe and his life in your hand. 

Or so it seems. 

Jungkook doesn’t want it to be that way, and because of that reason he straightens his spine, his shoulders weightless due to the mercifulness of the spring wind. He shifts Baby in his hands, makes a bed for her on his palms, which he moves to his tailbone, hiding her from the ugliness upfront. 

Saliva gathers in his mouth, coaxing out his words. His need to stand up for himself, to bring an ivory tinge of clarity into this muddiness that you drew within this reality. And along with his saliva, bile rises in his esophagus, the inkling that his childhood is so close to him and yet so far away haunting him, prickling his skin. 

He hates this. 

His chin quivers, and he tightens his facial muscles in order to make it stop. To make the images of his father’s hand lifting in his direction die within this steady flow of the spring’s breath. He didn’t get in trouble. He didn’t do anything wrong. 

“I didn’t do any of those things,” he croaks out, his arms behind his back uncannily shaking. Baby squeaks, subduedly under the crooked roof of his fingers, but it feels as though she’s standing up for him, too, validating his words, supporting them, and it’s as overwhelming as it is unbelievable. 

Taehyung, the sculpture of eternal perturbation, cracks. He breaks out of the marble surface, his limbs moving and his features twisting. Anger seeps off of him, vividly and vigorously, and Jungkook knows that it’s boiling, about to splash him. 

But he doesn’t expect it to come so soon. 

In a blink, Taehyung leaves your aura of mischief, though his hands stay by his side. Jungkook is inclined to take a step back the more Taehyung draws close to him, the muscles on his shoulders tense and puffed up, resembling the ones on his friend’s body. They have more in common than they ever did before, and Taehyung has no idea. You made it so they both stand on the opposite side, and Jungkook hates you for it. 

And when Taehyung gets in his face, Jungkook realizes he never hated anything before. He always tolerated all the shit he’d been put through, accepting it, engraving it into his heart. The flesh never acted out, however. Meekness surrounded his soul for far too long, and something tells him that this is slowly but surely changing. 

A strange sensation constricts his breast. 

“Hyung,” he whispers, the name falling off his lips like his last weakness, but it doesn’t affect Taehyung in any way. Not even his following words. “She’s lying. Let me explain—”

“Explain what?” he spits in an undertone that reverberates through the room with its potency. Cold sweat runs down Jungkook’s spine, and he feels so defenseless that it’s drawing tears to his eyes. “You want to tell me how you fucked her? Shibal saekkiya, you want to provoke me enough to hit you? Hit my new junior before he starts his training next week? What’s that gonna look like?” 

Radio silence clutches Jungkook’s heart. The briskly wind quiets its song and his lungs take a minuscule breath, not nearly enough to support his system. And when he wants to take another one, he can’t. 

He can’t. 

Junior? 

Jungkook can’t breathe. 

And he can’t feel Taehyung’s long fingers gripping his shoulders. He can’t see him either, for a scenery of the dream that he abandoned in that bathroom along with his love sails across his sight. The police uniform, fitting his form just right. The lines of a phoenix upon his badge beneath a wreath of hibiscus, sitting rightfully on his breast. 

Rightfully? 

Nothing about that word feels honest. And what’s worse, as Jungkook’s lungs struggle to intake but a morsel of air, paradoxically the scent of that flower soaks his pores, filling his nostrils with its sweetened aroma. The tears escape, helplessly, despite the fact Jungkook is ashamed of them. 

The news hit him so drastically that he does the thing he was most afraid of—he puts Baby down, just to wipe his cheeks of the evidence of his weakness. And it’s not that he doesn’t care where she goes, it’s that he doesn’t have the capacity to focus on that right now. 

“You didn’t expect that, did you?” Taehyung taunts, withdrawing his hands from Jungkook’s body, taking a step back just to tilt his chin upward in a gesture of arrogance. “Imagine how I felt when I was so happy to bring the news to you last night, only to see your car at my girl’s house, only to find her running to me bleeding.” 

Something in Jungkook snaps. Perhaps it was due to the egocentric attitude, enfolding around him like his father’s tepid energy, or perhaps it was the mention of you that pumped fresh blood into his veins because despite his damp cheeks, the chain of feebleness that held him back this entire time is severed. 

And it’s that one look at you behind Taehyung’s shoulder that forces his body to act. All smug and delighted, with your arms crossed beneath your bare breasts, pleased with the aftermath of your evident strategy. Jungkook yearns with every particle of his being to ruin that. To erase that. To erase everything that’s been said and done in this room, within the bodies of those present. To take the sword and sit on the throne, overpower those who have overpowered him. 

And that’s why he fists Taehyung’s shirt. 

It takes the male by surprise. He softly grunts when Jungkook pushes him against the hard wood of the front door with all his strength, closing his eyes at the impact, the wind knocked out of him. And when he opens them and the glimmering morning light hits the doe nature of his pools, it’s Jungkook who’s now delighted by the speck of intimidation dotting those irises. Yes, that feels monumental—that feels right, that feels akin to the lines decorating his hands, telling his life story. 

This is his life. 

He should’ve been like this from the get go. With you, with Taehyung. Not being the partner walking beside you and him, but the boss who you and Taehyung walk by, compliant, under his thumb. He’s cognizant of something rising in him like a dense tide of a foreign essence that, after a bit of acknowledgement and the caress of a hand, feels like home. 

That gives him the faintest notion that it’s you and Taehyung who are in trouble now, that puts the words in his mouth to bring this unfair occurrence down once and for all.

“Do you honestly think that if I had raped her, she’d come to you and let you fuck her again?” Jungkook asks, his tone calm despite the tornado of quivering and swelling emotions within him. Then, to back up his claim, the memories of all the girls he had saved like ghosts line his vision, one by one, translucent little fairies coming to help him. “Are you that fucking dumb? Do you not remember what happened to the girls you saw me take care of? How they wouldn’t let me touch them even if I did it to pick them off the ground?” 

The conversation between the males is interrupted by a panicky female voice. A little bitch who has seen that there’s a crack in her pottery. 

“I-I—” you begin, running on empty to defend your call out, and Jungkook smirks at how pitiful you sound. “I needed him—”

Jungkook curtly shakes his head. Intervenes your pathetic little monologue that leads nowhere, just like he shall intervene your little meaningless existence. His own strategy forms in his brain as he tells you: “Shut the fuck up.” 

Taehyung blinks, but his eyes aren’t present. His eyes aren’t present when his arm swiftly lifts and his fist collides with Jungkook’s cheek, making him double over from the harsh, unexpected contact. That side of his face buzzes with an anguish he has experienced before and intimately so, the familiar taste of metal suffusing his mouth. His mind spins, the pressure of his childhood trauma consuming him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, and Jungkook doesn’t know what to do. 

Like Taehyung, he freezes in time. Freezes in his trauma. 

Watches as his once so-called friend turns to you with a hunched, weary back. As those deadened eyes glide to yours. As you lessen in your stance, very much aware of how drastically your strategy backfired because something is seriously wrong. 

Jungkook watches as Taehyung asks you the most important question of this whole moment. 

“Is it true?” 

Your hands tremble, seemingly delicate upon first sight but poisonous in nature. The gun you’re still gripping rattles in a way that makes his teeth hurt, and your transparent fear should please him, but he no longer feels anything. Not when a hand has been lifted at him again, as if he were a little boy all over again. 

You stammer, trying to find your words, but Taehyung gazes at the weapon with a certain disapproval, halting your vocal pitifulness. 

“Why are you playing with that? Have you lost your mind?” he questions, his words firm enough to still your trembling, and like a deer in the headlights you look up at him, silent, exposed, embarrassed. “Do you think this is a toy? Do you think I am a toy?” 

Your tremble hangs over your chin, your eyes widening at the call-out. And for the briefest moment, Jungkook gets the impression that Taehyung is on his side. And it breaks the stony flesh off of his own, gives strength to his limbs, gives them the order to walk forward and lift his arm to Taehyung’s shoulder. 

His friend, his only companion—

Taehyung turns around, but Jungkook is not met with the warmth of his friend. 

He’s met with the sting of the gun, pressed against the center of his chest. 

“Don’t touch me,” he mutters, putting emphasis on the first word, and Jungkook’s eyes fill with a heavy, painful rush of tears. Abandoned, he is again. Alone, he shall be again. He doesn’t feel anything but that burning sensation over his eyes and Taehyung is but a hazy smudge before him, but he hears his words loud and clear, echoing in his headspace and around the place where his heart once was. “You’re gone. I don’t know you and I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

The gun moves from his chest, and Taehyung points it somewhere below at his feet. 

“Take the damn cat and leave.” 

Jungkook looks down. A soft orange smudge clings to his sneaker, oscillating, shivering. 

Baby never left him. 

The air outside is anything but at ease. The spring’s breath is fidgety, nervous to dry the tears spurting down onto Jungkook’s cheeks in troubled rivulets. His hands mimic its mood when he rummages in his pockets to find his only salvation. The rattling of the cigarettes inside the rectangle of his pack reminds him of the sound that made his teeth hurt hardly a while ago, and another set of tears advance on, its riverbeds splitting, creating pathways that reach the poor kitty finding its long lost comfort on his neck. 

How scared she must’ve been, being stuck in a foreign place charged with such violence for an extended period of time. It brings back the memory of how unwilling she was to leave his apartment, and Jungkook now figures that it was an omen. An omen he should’ve taken into account, regarded with much more importance than he did. 

He regrets it. He regrets… everything. 

The ash in his mouth returns, or maybe it’s just the taste of his cigarette. Jungkook takes a large puff until his lungs ache and then he exhales out the smoke into the cloudy canopy above. His ill-temper at the fate of his life, at the cosmos and the hiding stars is soft and muted, but it is there and he hopes that he poisons them all by the only instrument of death he ever owned, fragrant with the wholeness of his rotting self. 

His heart is broken. And crestfallen, he walks aimlessly. With Baby on his shoulder, the murmur of her snores calming his nervous system. With his thoughts running laps in his mind at full speed, clashing with the epitome of placidity resting on him, the smoke wafting from his mouth the connecting link that enables it to work. Not thoughts, not exactly, but rather images. Images of what you’ve done, images of what he’s done to you. The light and the dark, the only one that exists. The good and the bad—Jungkook wonders why there’s never been a golden mean between that. Why he stepped from one extreme to another without an ounce of mercy. Without an ounce of love, of kindness.

The night falls quickly, and Jungkook, too, falls quickly for his fantasies, in which you’re the innocent reader he liked so much in the library, your mind free from your egomaniacal schemes. A virgin unknown of life, of the male body and what it can bring to the unspoilt female one. The newness, the sweetness—yes, Jungkook pretends you didn’t steal his life, steal his friend, steal his own kindness and his heart while he ignores that all too familiar ache in his breast, which whispers to him that his pictures are lies.

Lies, lies, lies.

Brought back to his truthful surroundings, Jungkook is certain that it were her snores that led his feet to a no-name bathhouse, perched on the top of a duskily pink cliff, because he’s never been here before. The joint is small, a cube of a glossy onyx pigment with a window to the far right, dark and unlit, with an equally miniscule warm candlelight somewhere inside. No one seems to be present and the spot alone provides him with no feelings whatsoever, not even a faint sense of relief that he might possibly wash you off his body at last, but when Jungkook walks closer, he perceives that someone is really there.

A girl, with starless wine hair, napping.

Her spine is arched over the taupe wooden table, her scrunched cheek resting on the rough paper of a… sketchbook? Journal? There aren’t any drawings or words eternalized on the page, only the texture of her skin as she rests against it, a pair of black-rimmed glasses crooked on the bridge of her nose. Only the wavy cascade of her dimly bloodied hair, which oddly stirs something in the center of his chest. Her full mouth is parted, a steady rhythm of respiration drifting out, mingling with the evening wind meeting her, checking on her. The shadows from the room create bulbs of patterns on her smooth and serene face, and upon realizing that Jungkook can see those, his breast trembles before it is cut through as if with a sharp blade. 

He winces without meaning to, the razor-edged sensation growing bigger the more he inhales, and the noise travels to Baby’s sensitive ears, startling her from her deep slumber. He fails to understand why he’s reacting like that when he struggles to catch up with those comatose emotions, as if they were playing tag with him, having tapped him briefly before running off. He furrows his brows, sliding a hand down Baby’s spine, but his seemingly new eye can’t help but notice the shaft of light glinting on the brightest rolls of her hair. His body tells him to leave now and leave fast at that and his feet nearly swivel, nearly taking him somewhere else, but the kitten’s sudden hushed mewls are carried towards this girl’s ear this time around and she starts, head lifting, dazy eyes searching for the source of that sound. 

And her brown eyes mercifully melt at the sight of the small animal squeaking at his neck. 

“Oh, kitty!” she exclaims, the small opening of the window muffling the value of her quite sleepy excitement. She smiles dopily, a twinkle settling upon her iris beyond her glasses, and she fixes them, moving them upwards, the same hands smoothing down her wine hair. 

Blood hair. The kind of color that would be the only vibrant hue in a chiaroscuro within a canvas. 

His heart, or something resembling it, stops at that thought. And while he is something akin to mesmerized, he is flooded with a century of past memories. 

He hasn’t painted anything in years. Hasn’t seen his dirty, dried brushes, his tempera. His easel is still broken in spirit, its wood having been burned such a long time ago. His father never liked his hobby growing up, found no point in it because in his opinion it would never make money, it would never make a good name for the Jeon dynasty. 

Jungkook quivers, overwhelmed, but the pull towards the color of her hair remains. Lingers. Sticks. Like Baby to his neck. 

His legs are weak as she speaks, having fully awakened from the haze of her nap. 

“Would you like to try out our services?” she asks, as if she didn’t nap at all, and it’s like the memories didn’t hit him at all, so abruptly forgotten by the effect of her soft, flowery tone. And while he so quickly admits the thought of her being pretty, he admits another one as well—he likes how unapologetic she is about her sleepiness and the fact that she napped. A stray wave of her hair that separates from the rest darts before her eyes as she reaches for a chapstick, which bears the same wine color, and Jungkook watches with some kind of foreign awe. Watches as she moistures and colors her puffy lips with that dark tinge. As she grasps a hair clip next, a golden butterfly, and pushes away the weight of that scarlet tide from her slender neck. 

The wind blows, and Jungkook hears violins in it. 

With a bated breath, he readies himself to respond, but a man enters the room. A man who forces her spine to straighten uncomfortably, who forces her head to twist in his direction using his presence, who breaks the sound of the violins in his ears and who pours sedateness into the air. 

He, too, tenses after her. 

“I’m off,” the man grumbles, taking a stack of papers from a rack behind her while making the rest of them collapse onto the floor. The noise from it is devastating, and he notices how her face falls, and he’s sure her sparkle dims. She faces her empty notebook, a small swell of fat rounding her chin in a way that softens Jungkook. The man opens a drawer beside her, sighs, and shuts it with a bang that causes her to jump. Her reactions are invisible to him, but Jungkook sees them. It angers him, speeding up the flow of his blood. “If the cash register is as empty tomorrow as it is now, I’ll deal with you accordingly. And if you so much as think about locking up, trust me you don’t. I told you to wear shorter tops—” 

Jungkook takes a large step forward, bringing himself into the light, making himself seen, putting his more relaxed Baby in his pocket. Little does he know that he won’t ever leave this spot of leniency. 

The man changes like a chameleon. 

Bows. Smiles. Bows again. Politely greets him. Encourages him to visit his bathhouse and spend the night there as it’s late, praising his services like the businessman he thinks he is.

Jungkook tries his hardest not to roll his eyes. Then, a scheme, a different kind, uncoils over his mind, a set of mellow lies gusting past his mouth. Immediate, fast, kind, unselfish. For her; for himself.

“Not too sure about that,” he says in connection to his money-hungry praise, not a hint of the lies evident in his speech. He cups Baby’s head to let her know he’s still with her in case she squeaks again. “I’ve heard terrible things about this bathhouse, but good things about her. I’d think twice before speaking to her like that.” 

He’s astonished by the words that came out of him, and they curve his mouth into a genuine smile. The first genuine, feel-good smile in a long while. The girl’s mouth cracks as well, but she keeps her head low, still facing her notebook, the corner of her eye crinkling. Jungkook imagines sketching those, giving life to them by gently and lightly shading them.

There’s a staccato of a flabbergasted silence before the man begins to stammer, his whole rounded face turning a bright shade of red, not like hers. Never hers. No one has ever bore a shade like hers, and he doesn’t want to believe that anyone would. For a reason that baffles him. 

Jungkook doesn’t stick around to hear him flesh out a sentence. Turning around, he merely hides in a shadow nearby, wanting to return to her more than to the bathhouse itself. A huge efflux of dopamine absorbs him, absorbs the events that have happened in Taehyung’s apartment, swallowing them and essentially erasing their effect from Jungkook’s body. The canvas of the heavens plucks the violet tingle of a hydrangea bush before him, smearing it on itself, and Jungkook consumes it while he gazes at it, infatuated with the tender, vibrating feelings in his body that are good in their core, with this shift in his life—stars blinking their eyes open, casting light on a dark period of his fate. He pats Baby’s head, takes her out of his pocket, makes her see the pretty sky, and then the revving of a car brings him back to the girl in the window. 

But she is as crestfallen as he was before he saw her, and the table before her is empty, void of her notebook. 

“You came back,” she says, but Jungkook doesn’t detect any excitement in her energy that had enlivened him. She peeks at him once before facing the table again. He buzzes, but he also laments her loss, a wish to rekindle it curling in his gut. Her eyes are missing their starlight, and Jungkook thinks that maybe, if he still remembers how, he can draw it back on. 

“Where’s your notebook?” Jungkook asks, his curiosity authentic and saddened by the fact she had to hide it away because of her manager. He’s glad that he came at the right time, that the man didn’t see her sleeping. He doesn’t want to imagine the kind of treatment she would’ve gotten, had Baby not woken her up. Once again, the memory of his relationship with his father rises, interlinking with the relationship she has with the man. 

She doesn’t respond, however. The corners of her mouth do, though. 

They lower, creating a wrinkle. The smallest swell of fat, the kind one can’t help but to touch. Jungkook understands more from that wordless response than any normal, non-scarred person would, and he tucks his lip behind his teeth, letting an interlude of a sympathetic silence pass through, before he asks her for the price of their services. A couple of thousand wons, cash only—Jungkook nods, solemnly. And when he pulls out all the banknotes he has in wallet, which is more than she asks of him, and refuses to take it back, the hue of her tone at last changes, and an opaque spark finds a way to her eyes. 

“You didn’t have to really,” she says, softly, after placing the money into the cash register, speaking of the way he stepped in. Turns her eyes to him and deepens the stare instantly, as if she were trying to read something from his own irises. “It doesn’t matter what he or anyone else says or does, life can always change on its own. Like, he can have a stroke tomorrow.” She chuckles, the display of her teeth weakening some part of him, which takes in her words, accepts them, believes them. “Or I can just get up and leave. Leave this city and never see him again. Nothing matters because life is flexible.” 

Life is flexible. What would’ve happened, had Jungkook simply left the apartment after that accusation shot him dead in the chest? It is but a faint memory now, which ripples in his mind, causing him to wonder whether he truly lived through it. Baffled, he is all over again—by her, by the power of her words, by their bones that click into his. He could’ve left, it was his decision and it wasn’t chained down by anything. He can do anything. He can ruin your life back, or he doesn’t have to do anything at all. How freeing that is, how liberating. 

Because she has opened his weakness, because he feels like it and is liberated to do so, he tells her: “I really needed to hear that.” 

She nods, coyly, and smiles, mouthends downturned, those little balls of fat seizing him again. “I’m glad. I needed to hear it once, too. By the way, where’s your kitten?” 

Jungkook looks down at Baby leaning out of his pocket, her elbow propped on edge, her tiny head tilted up, watching the moving colors of the sky between the blinking dots of light. He coos, softened to a putty by that sight, and he’s sorry to disrupt her drowsy stargazing. Carefully, he pulls her out of his pocket, holding her by the loose skin on the back of her neck and simultaneously supporting her butt with his other hand as he shows her to the girl in a kind of an awkward way. 

And it’s the girl in the window who squeals now, jumping onto her feet and propping her forearms on the wood attached to it. Her eyes melt into a creamy texture of chocolate tints, rounding, then shift up to his own, and Jungkook can vividly see the way the richness of the flavor brews in them. And it brews him, too, causing him to swelter under his clothes, causing him to want to risk his life and do stupid things—only because she laughs and makes fun of him for holding Baby the way he is. 

And he laughs in tandem with her, quietly, enjoying the tang of positiveness upon this flexible spring night. Decides to heighten her joy by placing Baby on the wood, by letting her pet her, by letting her get to know her. Decides to risk his life and do stupid things. 

Baby sniffs her hand. Jungkook notes the blackened stain of graphite or charcoal on the belly of her index finger and he watches, with his interest piqued and provoked, with his hands deep in his pockets, and the resemblance of his heart recklessly and prematurely on his sleeve, the way Baby examines that smell of that art tool on her fingertip as the rest of the girl’s body melts and focuses on her. Gone are the times when his hands used to be dirty just the same, but they can be brought back and Jungkook wants them to be brought back and he can bring them back. 

He spent the last months and weeks trying to be a provider for you while failing to be a provider for himself, failing to make his own dream of becoming a police officer true. How foolish of him, how foolish of him to depend on another person to fulfill his wishes. But it’s gone, is it not? In this moment while the stars and the heavens are watching, their stomachs full with his misery and foolishness. 

The times have changed. The times are a bystander now, and he’s the king of himself. 

The girl plays chase with Baby using her artistic finger, and Jungkook comprehends that Baby trusts her more than she trusted you. If he remembers correctly, Baby didn’t even come near you whereas with her, she senses some kind of goodness in her that doesn’t rouse fear in her. 

Tears well in Jungkook’s eyes, and suddenly he wants to know her name. The name of a girl Baby isn’t afraid of. 

And once he gathers the courage to ask her, the words are hurtled out of him at the same time hers are, overlapping each other in a way that incites a mutual laughter. He asks about her name while she asks for Baby’s.

Not his. A vein of feeble sadness streaks through him, the passionate kind, the fiery kind that longs for her to care about him more than his pet. 

“Nari,” she reveals, and the flesh in his breast pulses twice before it re-learns its old beating rhythm, its song coursing through the pathways of his veins, carrying the echoes of violins, the murmurings of hydrangeas and… lilies. The meaning of her name. 

Jungkook smiles, the same thread of coyness from her demeanor hanging loosely over his bones. “Nari, that’s a pretty name,” he says, catching a miniscule smile of her own as she continues to play with Baby, swirling her finger in her face, watching as her entire head moves with her movement. “Her name is Baby.” 

That breaks her attention linked to the kitten and she straightens, faces him with a parted mouth divulging her shock and her evident softness from that name. Jungkook’s smile deepens, finding pleasure in her pleasure and the way she seems to be affected by anything remotely cute. 

“Baby? Why Baby?” she questions, but he somehow knows, feels that her curiosity is benevolent and not coming from a place of judgement. He gets the impression that whenever she comes across something new and something she hasn't touched, smelled or heard, she yearns and willfully demands to know the ins and the outs of that thing, like a child becoming aware of the world around her. 

He likes it, but the matter of her name is a sensitive one, and telling her would mean unlocking a certain drawer in him that he doesn’t want opened right now. He doesn’t want to search for the key, get hit with the dust and familiarize himself with the pain all over again. And from the encounter he has with you so far, he’s been taught that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. 

And just like you, he dwells in a brief silence, refusing to respond. Steps closer towards the window. Pulls one hand out of his pocket, the one rounded out from Baby’s body, and he caresses the lower part of her spine, patting her bum. Nari observes him, thoughtfully, and he finds that he likes that as well, a coat of delight scattering bumps across his skin beneath his jumper. 

“And yours?” she questions again, her voice sultrier, and the fire in him gains intensity. He feels like a fragment of a child himself, getting what he so brattily longed for. His cheek muscles hurt from the depth of his smile, but he can’t fight it and neither does he want to. 

What he wants is to reciprocate the goodness, and he can and he shall. 

And it’s smooth sailing, him grabbing Baby by her front legs and lifting her onto her back legs, using them as arms to point at himself. “My Appa’s name is Jungkook,” he speaks for her in the most girlish tone he can muster, and then he gently moves Baby’s body from side to side in a little dance. “Yay!” 

It’s smooth sailing, making Nari laugh, drawing on the sparkle onto the top edge of her irises. It’s smooth sailing because a new cosmos has been created in the chemistry between him and her, a cosmos that has no sovereignty, no say in his life, nothing utterly unsafe. A cosmos that craves to extend past this window, and does—because when he settles in a cubicle with Baby, Nari follows him and crouches by him, wisps of her hair framing her tense face. 

“Here.” 

Places a banana milk and a snack into his hand that she isn’t afraid to grasp, a butter waffle that he hasn’t eaten in decades. And it alone would’ve made him cry, had she not stated her following decision.

“I don’t have any cat food, but I’m gonna go get some. You can take a shower in the meantime. The stalls are right there in that corridor.” 

She’s gone in the next second, before Jungkook can get any word out, before he can look at the place she pointed at. But just as it is intuitive for her to feed them, it is as intuitive for him to do as she says, picking up Baby into his arms and letting his feet take him to the thing that started this all. 

Her effervescence leaves him as soon as he moves the curtain of the shower stall to the side and glimpses at the white tiles. 

Dread. Absolute fucking dread. 

Like a snake, with the slightest touch, you crawl underneath his skin, taking your sweet little time. The memories of your tongue, of the lack of eye contact as you utterly buried yourself in the adrenaline of your ambition and left him bereft of any piece of human kindness. And how you swung your legs and got up to cleanse yourself off of him and every morsel of his being that he had given you. 

Jungkook’s chin quivers, the dread sinking low somewhere in his chest, and his stomach grumbles. 

He’s hungry. Hungry for comfort. Hungry for consolation. Hungry for any type of relief that would extend its hand and snatch away that feeling of dread and those memories of you and what you’ve done, which he thought were erased. He’s hungry more for that than for food. 

He looks down at Baby, the only soul present. Her eyelids are lowered, her minuscule face leaning against the bellies of his fingertips. He wishes she knew what he felt; he wishes that she would understand him like she did when he found her, rise from her sleepiness and talk to him. It wouldn’t even have to be in a human language—any would do, any he would learn just to have a safe being to talk to. 

His mind flies to Nari, and he wonders if she is a being of ultimate safety—the girl who, despite knowing him for less than a day, helped him more than you ever did and who didn’t hesitate to bring him a snack and go buy food for his kitten. 

Can she be trusted? Can she be someone who can help him? 

That thought grows a pair of lightweight wings, its velvety, feathery membrane fluttering his brain cells. Flies further, flies deeper—into the bottom of his soul, where his darkness resides with gaping eyes and parched throat, seeking to be fed. 

The feathers as they flit make a loud noise in the overgrown well inside him. 

Can she help him emotionally, and can she eventually help him with his scheme? That is, if he decides to ruin your life in reciprocation. 

Pondering it, he feels the edges of the wings on the place where his heart used to be. Somehow, he laments the absence of it, of the softness of the bunny who just wanted to be loved and to love back at the right time. But the velvety sensation feels pleasant, feels sort of mollifying if he focuses on it a bit more, and he doesn’t know how he does it—place Baby down and take off his clothes, lift his foot over the threshold of the epitome of dread and pull the curtains shut. He doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s aware that it’s possible because he sees the image of Nari being his partner. Of Nari using her kindness and her nonchalance towards you. He turns on the water, but he doesn’t mind the immediate coldness. It feels fresh, it feels real. It feels like the essence of Nari, and because of that he dips his head under the stream—because if he is to go on with the scheme, he has to get clean. 

His tears are hidden by that energetic waterfall, camouflaged, unfelt. The steady, unyielding pain in the center of his chest is real, but the tears aren’t, not in this moment. His limbs are elastic, boneless, but they’re real as well, they’re real as he lathers his body in an apple-scented foam. They quiver like his chin when he grasps his flaccid cock and pales the colors staining it, burdening it. How different this second would be, if you had treated him nicely. He’d still be in your bed, giving you everything you ever wanted, his attachment tendencies loose and needy. 

But, no. You don’t deserve it. You deserve a catastrophe, you deserve a ruination, a death to your perversity, and as another teardrop falls onto the last dollop of your blood mixed with your juices that he cleanses away, Jungkook allows himself to be rinsed. 

Scratches his scalp when he washes his hair because he hates his life, hates the lack of serendipity that would scatter it with twinkles of joy and serenity. But that, too, gets rinsed away soon enough. 

Jungkook stands underneath the stream for longer than he should. 

Weeping, simmering with so many emotions that are numb on the surface but dynamic in their core. Thick cobwebs of darkness push at the corners of his eyes, scaring him, as he stands there absolutely helpless and in need of being saved. 

But no one is coming, and Jungkook waits long enough to be assured of that. 

He kneels at the tiles, sweeps back the shower curtain, grabs Baby and places her on the raised step. She awakens, softly, but doesn’t complain. Squints at him, yawns silently. Jungkook cups a small body of water and gently pours it over her body, afraid to use the ordinary bar of soap available in case it would do her harm. Washes her like that, rubbing in the water into her fur, washes away her old life to welcome in the new one. 

With him as her Appa. 

He kisses her forehead once he’s done. Rubs in his love, too, his tears rushing to his waterline again. He will protect her with everything in him, take care of her kindly, be there when she grows, be there whenever she needs him. 

Even if no one will ever do that for him. 

“Appa loves you, Baby,” he whispers, saying her name as well as the pet name. “Appa will make a good life for us.” 

And he means it, even if he’s not too sure how he will do it. 

Nori is waiting for him by the cubicle. 

She’s sitting on her folded legs, absentminded and focused on something beyond his view. Her back faces him, and Jungkook notices how it’s partly bare, the fabric of a top she wasn’t wearing before exposing the prominent muscles on the center of her back by how low it’s cut. When he first saw her, she was wearing an oversized crewneck that hid her skin, and the sight of it in its full glory heightens the feeling he’s absorbed with. 

Freshness. Lightness. Well-being. 

The elements that make living a life bearable. 

He’s tentative about touching her to make her aware of his presence so she doesn’t startle. But he worries about startling her if he touches her. He would depend on Baby to make her little sound, but she’s sunk back into her sleepiness, rendering her out of this reality, and it would break his heart to bring her back. She’s clean and damp, resting in the film of her dreams, he couldn’t do that to her. He could say something to Nari, as anyone probably would in this situation, but he blanks out at what he could possibly say, so he just walks forward to her, with cold but sweaty hands and his nervous system slightly in shambles. 

Even more so when gets near enough to peek over her shoulder and sees what she’s doing to pass the time. 

Two cans of food are positioned before her, one crookedly leaning over the other. The fluorescent light from the cubicle hits it just right, making it the perfect still life to practice sketching on. But what she’s creating on the brown piece of paper laid on her thigh is anything but a practice sketch. And the still life is anything but still. 

It’s vivid, and this time it’s Jungkook who melts. 

She’s holding three pencils in one hand, her bottom lip drawn beneath her teeth. It’s been a long time since he’s held them in the very same way, and it softens him. It softens him to observe as the thin strands of her hair, fallen stray from her butterfly clip, tickle her chin and she frustratedly blows them away, shading the shadow of the cans on the open space of the paper. 

Paper? No sketchbook? 

The former question he had asked her is plunged out of his mouth again, erratic.

“Where’s your sketchbook?” 

Nari startles, and that’s exactly what he didn’t want. She peeks at him, her lip back in place, reddened and puffy, rounding out from her parted mouth. Sets her stuff down, finished with her task, turning around. Jungkook settles next to her, leaning over to put Baby down on the thin comforter inside the cubicle. 

A brief interlude of silence passes before she licks her lips, readying herself to enter reality. 

“She’s sleeping? I got her food. She must be hungry,” she says, watching her, those eyes dissolving again, head tilting to the side as her sleepiness affects her just as much it affects him. 

For some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to respect her refusal to talk about bad things. Not when the question has become fiery hot, his yearning to know the answer in tandem, diffusing into his softness. And because of that he moves the topic back to her—because he’d rather talk about her than about the fact that Baby has probably gone longer than a full day without food. 

“Why won’t you answer my question?” he starts, locking his arms around his knees, looking over his kneecaps before he gathers the courage to bore his eyes into her. As if his words were of intimate nature. 

She seems taken aback by his adamancy, circles of flush bleeding into her cheeks. Her twinkle expands over her eyes, glossing over them, giving them a wet look that pokes the inside of his throat, where a lump forms. He doesn’t know what it means, the reactions she causes to bloom in him. And in her presence, the reasons and the meanings don’t matter. 

In her presence, life and the time stops. 

“Because it sucks?” she retorts with a chuckle that doesn’t resemble an inch of humor, breaking her gaze and sliding her glasses further up. She busies her fingers with her shoelaces, avoiding his eyes. 

Pain, Jungkook recognizes. Pain that she isn’t ready to face. 

“So?” he encourages, flicking the overspilling loop of her shoelaces from her knuckle, coaxing out a breath of laughter that he wonders if is genuine. She looks at him after a half minute of silence, and he encourages her some more by twitching his brows upwards. 

She sighs, pointing her eyes to the ceiling. 

“You brought some luck my way. Someone has come to use the sauna,” she says, but Jungkook shakes his head, despite the fact her words give him a fuzzy feeling. Hard to believe someone like him would bring a speckle of luck her way. Or in anyone’s way. 

“Not what I asked.” 

She sighs again, louder this time. A noise of defeat, one of utmost benefit. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“That I am.” 

Her eyes widen at that, fleetingly. Jungkook smiles to himself, sensing the energy to be fluid with something easy, as if he’s drifted here with her before, within this chemistry that doesn’t ask anything from him. A chemistry that just exists, a spark to a fire that doesn’t burn that brightly, but burns either way. 

Languidly, softly. 

“Fine.” 

“Talk.” 

She purses her lips, cupping her glasses with her fingers like one would palm their face. His clavicles grumble with a tender laughter, which fades out as soon as she explains the omission of her sketchbook. 

“After you left, he noticed my sketchbook and he got so angry that he tore it up and threw it in the trash. Months of my work, gone just like that,” she reveals, her tone flat, carrying a layer of death that only a person who’s been hurt too many times can. 

Jungkook curls his fists, and his own anger is but a whisper under the layer of his skin. He doesn’t need courage for the following words that he says to her—they’re as natural as if they were talking about banalities. But he means them, and they mean a lot to him, and he doesn’t regret them. Not like he regrets his life pre-her. 

“I shouldn’t have left.” 

Short, but momentous, and she feels them, taking a hold of her bottom lip again as she meekly nods. And it is in that moment that she, in some invisible universe, watery and hazy, clutches him and doesn’t let him go. Only because she admitted her girlish neediness. 

And he proves it by giving her a promise. 

“I will get you a new one, but you will have to come to work tomorrow. Don’t flee the country.” 

It’s then that he hears her genuine laughter, which echoes with the delicate notes of violins. And she shouldn’t have—she shouldn’t have agreed by nodding her head and gripping his elbow because Jungkook shall use her as a pawn, shall return to his old ways like a dog returning to its vomit.

And it was never supposed to be that way. 

© 2025 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[soaringwide]

PAC: How to overcome your fears regarding relationships?

Hey :p

Here is a new love pick a card about a topic I've personally been struggling with recently, so I really wanted to dive into it.

The goal of today's reading is to look at what fears you're dealing with in matters of relationships; fears that might manifest as blockages or obstacles in your love life; and how to overcome them.

As always, this reading is meant for multiple people and there are only three piles, so take what resonates and leave out the rest. It can help focusing on your issue or a specific relationship while selecting the pile.

I offer paid readings as well, don't hesitate to reach out to me in DMs.

Ko-fi ★ book a reading ★ pinned post ★ instagram

PILE 1

Cards: 3 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles, King of Wands, Queen of Wands, Slow Down, King of Pentacles, Manic, Queen of Swords, King of Cups, Queen of Cups, 2 of Pentacles, 5 of Pentacles, the World, 7 of Wands, the Magician, the Emperor

Your fears surrounding relationship have to do with heartbreak and loss. It seems you've had your heart wounded deeply in the past. The pain was intense and it took you so long to sooth it, and you had to use all your resources to revive yourself from this state. You had to learn to be independent and flourish for your own sake, to tend to your own inner garden and make a life beautiful and enjoyable for yourself. So you not only are scared to get your heart broken again, but also to lose your individuality and the peace you built for yourself. I think you are attracted to people like you, strong individuals with ambition and passion, but you're scared it's going to get in the way of your own path and vision and lead you apart, breaking your heart once more. I believe you overthink quite a lot and expect things to go wrong before they even do.

These fears are rooted in your relentless mind, forever going full speed from one extreme to the other, in a frenetic quest for meaning and movement. It seems you have trouble feeling satisfied by anything for long because you're always looking at the next adventure, the next prize, the next achievement. It's not that you're ungrateful or anything, but rather, that you are scared you're going to be left with nothing if you stop trying to fix what's wrong in your life. You keep looking for problem to solve, perhaps due to your triggered survival instinct, and it's hard for you to stop and appreciate what you have. So the root of your fears is in your own mind, in the pathways you built years after years and that you solidified. It seems you have a hard time finding your balance, go with the flow and stay in the appreciation of the present.

These fears manifest in relationships by a hard grip on your feelings by your mind. See, your feelings are strong and run deep, and they can get overwhelming very easily. As a result, you react by dissecting them like some freaky science experiment and try to break everything down to understand them, but also to keep them under the control of your logic. It's kind of a toxic pattern, an abusive move from yourself towards yourself. Your words can be harsh and hot tempered because you feel hurt easily and can blow things out of proportions fast. You're so scared of losing your agency and getting hurt that it makes you hyper aware of every little blow at your heart and you go to war a bit too easily. I'd also say that paradoxically, you have a hard time being honest about your feelings and communicating them in a gentle and open way. You may even wait till things become unbearably painful before saying anything, instead of acting earlier when the need arose the first time. You struggle with the idea of vulnerability a lot and perhaps your way around that is to wait till it feels like it's the other person's fault for hurting you instead of your own inability to express yourself authentically.

For what external influences play a part here, I'd say first that you have a strong personal sense of what you need from life and relationships, but that you doubt yourself a lot. You keep comparing yourself to what others have, or what society expects and this is making you feel depleted and resource-less. It's like, people say one thing, and you know it's wrong, but for some reason you keep entertaining the idea even though you know it's rotten and useless for you. In addition, you also feel pressed by time, as if you felt you were following some type of transcending schedule you had to abide by, and if you are late or out of sync, then that means you are failing and it's causing your fears to intensify. This is making your fears worse because these expectations weight on your mind and make you feel broken and worsen you destructive patterns.

For how to overcome your fears, your first need to let go of the struggle mindset. No, life is not out there to get you and you aren't going to lose everything if you dare opening up to love. You are too defensive of your heart and too combative in your approach. You need to replace that mindset by bringing all elements of yourself in harmony. Your mind shouldn't fight your emotions, your passion shouldn't clash with the respect of your boundaries. What I'm trying to say is to take a look at what you're over-doing and what you're neglecting, and bring some balance within yourself. You must also bring clarity in your mind about what it is you want and hold the vision, knowing that you will find what you need when the right opportunity arises. Also, don't hesitate to advocate your your needs and wants. Not like a tyrant, but like someone who knows themselves and know what's best for them, and go after whom they desire without fear. Yes, the battles of the heart are scary and it can be hard to go for what you want due to the fear of loss and pain, but you need to make a conscious decision to not only open up, but also let the other person know where you stand. Trust in your magic, your skills and power, you have everything that you need to succeed.

PILE 2

Cards: 4 of Swords, the Magician, the Star, Inner Awareness, Let Go rx, Queen of Pentacles, the Fool, 5 of Swords, 10 of Cups, Jealousy rx, Optimism, Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, 3 of Pentacles, Death

Your fears regarding relationship come up as fearing your hopes and dreams won't manifest. You are a romantic, a dreamer who has a beautiful and idealistic idea of what love can and should be, but you're struggling to find it. You may currently be in a state of isolation and afraid of it will never end, and that you'll be missing out on the joys of love. You are highly in tune with your higher desires, have a strong faith in the vision you have for the relationship you dream of, however, you're also highly scared that this will not become a reality, because you worry you do not have what it takes to reach your dream. I'd also say you're painfully aware of you own flaws and issues, and you worry you won't be accepted as you are.

The root cause of these fears shows up as a struggle to let go of your need to control and predict when the situation would require to simply take a step forward and embark on an adventure without worrying about the future. You may have been neglecting your love life for a while before this moment, not leaving enough space for relationships to bloom, because you perceived it as a treat for your well being at the time, which might simply mean that you hadn't met the right person or at the right time, and I think it shows up here because these disappointments made you very wary and careful about love and it's holding you back presently.

These fears manifest in your relationships by placing too high of an expectation from the get go on them. This gap between reality and dream is putting pressure on the relationship and on yourself. You may see the relationship as failing and struggling to communicate because you feel so vindicated. You might know that your approach is not working, but failing to understand why, and thinking things were not meant to be as a result, circling back on this idea of fated and perfect love. You may also compare the relationship to the ideal in your mind excessively, which is creating even more tension, anger and frustration, because it doesn't match your ideal.

For the external influences, it seems your current mindset was shaped by an environment that didn't encourage honest and authentic communication of your emotions, needs and desires. Paradoxically, you were told to always remain optimistic and hopeful, that things would always work out without effort, but without giving you the keys to how to work towards that in reality. It's as if it fed into your dreamy nature without allowing you to understand how to build the bridge between dream and reality. You didn't learn the power of your actions and how to take accountability for them, which is again feeding this imbalance between your inner world and the reality of a lived relationship. Also, circling back on the fear of not being accepted I highlighted in the first paragraph, this is also linked to your lack of skills in communication, because you expect people to understand you without having to express yourself, which is unfair to them.

For how to overcome these fears, the cards point at a few things. First, we're being led back to this idea of embarking on an adventure, with passion and confidence, and stepping out of your comfort zone. You must learn that the way you are approaching things is not working and need a deep transformation. You must learn from the mistakes of your past and start anew. Look at the future with hope but take actions toward what you desire. Also, keep in mind this idea that building a relationship requires team work and constant effort, and that things will not always be perfect and dreamy. Some days will be hard, but it doesn't mean they will never be sweet. Be open minded and enthusiastic and learn not to draw hasty conclusions on the relationship or on your person.

PILE 3

Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Page of Pentacles, 10 of Wands, Joy rx, 10 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords, 7 of Pentacles, King of Wands rx, King of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, 2 of Cups, 8 of Wands, Forgive rx, Intuition rx, 4 of Pentacles, the Hermit, Knight of Cups

Okay so heads up, this file feels a bit like the results of your own doing.

Your fears regarding relationships have to do with the idea of being burdened with responsibilities and losing access to the usual ways you find joy in life. I'm getting strong fear of commitment. That a committed relationship could get in the way of your present social life, friends and party habits. I see you quite mesmerized by what looks like glitter, as in, what seems attractive and exciting in the moment, which makes you ignore everything else that is around it because you're so fixated on what's in front of you. Basically, it seems like a lot of work and sacrifices for a reward that seems unsure and unsatisfying, and you fear that.

This is all rooted in what seems to be a fear of endings, as in, you fear closing a chapter of your life, both because of the pain of closing such chapter will cause (grief for a time of your life that is gone), as well as for the loss of the pleasures that come with it. You also fear things slowing down and being out of your hands, that your happiness won't depend from your own will only anymore and that you would have to work for it with someone. However, you of course don't see that behind every ending is a new beginning, and that things might not be as clear cut and as desperate and you imagine them to be. It's a bit over dramatic I feel.

This manifest in relationship by a bit of a toxicity if I'm completely honest. The cards point at rigidity and stubbornness as well as pent up anger and passive aggressiveness towards your partner. You might get fed up of them easily, because you feel restricted in your freedom. There is an inability to look past your own trauma and you're pushing its patterns onto your partner instead of addressing them directly. You end up hurting the both of you on the process.

For the external influences, I feel like there may be a connection that is triggering all these wounds for you here. Perhaps someone you were not expecting, someone who wish to come into union with you, to communicate freely and to make you a solid romantic offer. You sense that and it's making you spiral. This connection is putting pressure on you by asking you to make amends with the way you act and to own up to your bullshit (sorry). It may also trigger your intuition that is trying to tell you something, which you are refusing to listen to.

How to overcome these challenges then? The cards point at a need for a deep, thoughtful introspective journey, which will lead you to let go of your resistance to change. You're currently holding everything in, and I'm getting the image of a dam that is about to break down, little cracks growing and growing, and you're trying to cover them with your hands, but it's a losing battle. You need to learn to come forward, be vulnerable and authentic with your feelings and move towards what calls your heart without negating your deeper feelings and intuition. Make amends to you heart and pay attention to its whispers.

[marks-bby]

“TIS’ THE SEASON”

ingredients :: feral!v , fem!reader , sorta br*eding k*nk , mating press , v’s species has a monthly mating season so he’s just very…yeah

notes :: i’ve come to the conclusion that i’ll only post once in a while due to my mental health and current state (not like anyone cares) . but in case that does change, i’m taking requests for csm, dbh, arkham saga, tlou, insomniac’s spider man (peter , mj , harry only !!), dmc (dante, nero, and v), tomb raider, shameless , (i’d only to fluff for debbie and carl and platonic for ian but smut for lip and fiona)

“don’t—don’t move.” v seethes, holding you close to him. today would make the 31st day of you and him going at it like rabid dogs. this is the consequence of you being romantically involved with someone not fully human.

you were supposed to be sending your holiday with v, exchanging presents, cuddling up next to the fireplace while nursing a cup of hot cocoa. but instead, v’s primal instincts got to the best of him. he had promised you that he would control his urges and spend his first christmas with you. but now, your bra and underwear have been long forgotten on the floor.

all it took was one sneak peek under your shirt as you tried to put the star on the top of the tree for v to charge you, pinning you on the couch.

“you promised.” you whine, his cock slowly sliding in and out of you. his face contorts, his nose being scrunched as his eyes are screwed shut. “i’m sorry, love. i tried, believe me.”

though you were upset, his length pumping into you made your anger wash away. you should’ve grown accustomed to it by now—the way his hands harshly gripped your hips as he pistons himself into your backside.

your cunt watered around him, begging for him to move faster. “once i put a baby in you, we won’t have to do this ever.” he whines, your fluttering walls cocooning around his cock. v never wanted to be harsh to you while performing sexual acts. but he couldn’t hold back.

it felt like he was injected with an aphrodisiac that turned him into a savage. just the touch of your skin turned his body into flames.

“i swear to god if you don’t—agh!” a sharp thrust duds your sentence, your body screaming with pleasure. each of his thrust has a hint of fervor and feral emotion to it. the tattoos on his body were beginning to fade, his hair turning white.

“fuck!” his head hangs low as he watches himself disappear in you. it was beautiful. it was entertaining to see how well you could take him. he could feel his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling becoming unbearable. his grip on your hips tightened, his thrust becoming unrhythmic and animalistic. “fuck, love.”

your release showers his lower body, your back arching off the couch. the sound of you and v’s sin making contact intensifies as he releases his load into your abused cunt. “shit—”

he doesn’t fully stop—just slows his movements until they come to a halt.

“v?” he raises his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “yes, my love?” you sit up on your elbows, “why are you still hard?” you try not scoot back a little but your attempt was hopeless. he pulls you closer by your hips as he leans closer into you. “when have we only gone one round?”

sorry if it’s not descriptive enough. someone’s in a writers block.

[hauntingofhouses]

Thinking about the crazy love triangle situation in Blue Eye Samurai and debating heavily with myself on how I'd like to see it conclude. And yeah this discussion can be thought of purely as shipping, headcanons, and fandom fun. But when analysing the show and engaging with it in a more in-depth, almost-literary level, it's impossible to dismiss who Mizu's potential love interests are and how different endgame romances would affect her character arc and the overall story and themes.

So in this post I'd like to look at the love triangle a bit more closely, and speculate on where the story will take this.

DISCLAIMER: It is my personal interpretation of the text that Mizu is non-binary—I use this as an umbrella term denoting any gender that does not adhere to the binary restrictions, norms, and expectations of what it means to be either a man or woman in a particular society; it's not just an androgynous "third gender" that exclusively uses they/them pronouns. Thus, while I personally believe Mizu is not strictly a cis woman, she does still identify with womanhood, despite definitely feeling a level of detachment from it due to living as a man for so long. With that being said, I will be using she/her pronouns for Mizu in this post, but please note that this is purely personal preference. Everyone is free to interpret the text the way they like. That's the fun of fiction. Now, without further ado, let's proceed.

Okay so, thinking about the pairings on a purely surface level, and even before i got into the show, I was pinning my hopes on some lesbianism going on between Mizu and Akemi, and the show does hint at this; in Ep1, during their first encounter in Kyoto, there is the famous slow-mo shot of their eyes meeting, Mizu's lips slightly parted as she is unable to tear her gaze away from Akemi, while sweet string music plays in the background. This is clear romantic framing, and a marker of attraction. If Mizu was a cishet man, there would be no question that this is a potential love interest.

But then, in the same episode, we meet Taigen, who is introduced to us firstly from hearing Akemi's father describe him as "a fierce and undefeated young samurai", the "best swordsman in the best school" and "a fisherman's son from Kohama [...] whose rise reminds [him] of [his] own."

In the next scene, we meet him in person as Akemi's fiance, and he seems sweet enough. He even gives her sweets! In exchange, Akemi gives him gold, and he feels a bit ashamed that he doesn't have anything better to offer her. But Akemi accepts him and his gift wholeheartedly and flirts with him a little, which makes him smile kinda shyly.

When Akemi confirms their engagement, Taigen is in disbelief because he has no status or noble background, but Akemi reassures him.

So from these first few scenes, we're introduced to Taigen as an honourable and strong samurai, but also as a man who is sweet and gentle with the woman he is about to marry, as well as aware of his own inferiority when compared to Akemi's high station.

Our view of him then changes as his true self is revealed: he is an arrogant and smug bastard among his peers, but more importantly, he is the terrible bully from Mizu's childhood.

And it is this side of Taigen--pompous jerk and unrepentant xenophobic bully--that we continue to see as the show goes on, and it's safe to say that this is his real self, sans any pretense of humility and modesty. Around anyone who isn't an outright superior in terms of class and power (ie. Akemi's father, the shogun), Taigen never hesitates to assert his own authority and "greatness."

But as the show goes on, he gets caught by Heiji Shindo's men, and then tortured. And that's when we see, okay, turns out he's not that bad. He's honourable; "honour" is not just meaningless and superficial pedantry for him, but an internalised, guiding principle.

He was a cruel asshat throughout Mizu's childhood, but in a prejudiced and xenophobic society, he was just playing by the rules. As a child, he knew he was at the bottom of society, but when met with someone even lower ranked than him (Mizu), he can project all those prejudices and insecurities onto someone else. This way of thinking--"if you can't beat 'em, join em"--is what allowed him to climb up the ranks despite being some dirt poor kid from an abusive household*.

*Well, that combined with his cismale privilege of course, because this would not be an option for a woman in similar circumstances.

Thus, his upholding of honour also exemplifies how Taigen embodies the ideals and rules of his society. His insistence on duelling Mizu is another more blatant example of this. He doesn't want revenge like Mizu does. He wants to be accepted by society, within the bounds that society has placed, and that means that his only two options following his defeat at the Shindo dojo were to either chase Mizu down and get his damn duel, or kill himself for his humiliating defeat.

Now! Moving on from Taigen, let's go back to the other end of this little love triangle: Akemi.

Mizu and Akemi only properly meet in Ep4. During their first meeting, when Akemi tries to poison Mizu in Madame Kaji's brothel, she compliments Mizu's eyes, calling them "beautiful."

This seems to genuinely take mizu off-guard for a second before she coolly plays along. We know that Mizu recognises Akemi from the get-go, and thus sees through Akemi's ploy from a mile away. It's also safe to assume she'd expected false flattery, because Mizu understands full well that this tactic is how women get what they want: by using their 'feminine wiles' and playing up their naivety and innocence. But even so, it's interesting that Mizu actually seems surprised by Akemi's compliment.

Then, after Mizu subtly taunts Akemi by lying about Taigen's death, she and Akemi have a bit of a scuffle, and then we get to Mizu saying this:

"Women in our world don't have a single good option. Except you, like some magical forest creature. You could have anything you want, but then you beg to eat trash."

(no screenshot because it's quite a long line but you get it)

Here we see Mizu's opinions on the marginalisation of (mostly poor and under-privileged) women stated outright, and underlying her words is also resentment. Because even though she and Akemi have shared experiences of female oppression, Mizu, unlike Akemi, was also poor, from a rural village, and is a racial minority. Mizu is triply oppressed, while Akemi only faces one primary form of oppression, and to someone as embittered by the world as Mizu is, to see Akemi "beg to eat trash" is a slap in the face, practically tone-deaf to the other injustices around her--injustices which Akemi has not shown much, or any, acknowledgement for at this point.

Then, after this scene, Mizu kills Kinuyo, and this unsettles her to a degree we've never seen from her before. She is visibly distraught, and the entire sequence hammers the theme of this episode (and arguably, a large portion of the show) into our heads: women in this world suffer. And even though Mizu is well aware of this fact, to commit this act is so visceral that is shakes her to her core, and it's what ultimately leads to the ambush of the Thousand Fangs.

But before the ambush, Mizu and Akemi talk a little again, and during this time Akemi taunts Mizu some more.

Right now, Mizu is exhausted to the point where (I believe) she even downs some sake, despite not usually drinking. Thus, worn down, she cuts Akemi's ropes and tells her, "Just go." Akemi recovers from her initial fear of Mizu's blade and taunts her some more, accurately seeing through Mizu's facade of coldness, recognising the raw anger there, and says this:

"I thought you had to be something special. Your face isn't even so scary. You're just... angry."

At this, Mizu is amused and compares Akemi to Taigen ("I see why he likes you. You're just like Taigen when we were children. A fucking brat.")

The reveal that Mizu and Taigen knew each other in childhood surprises Akemi, but before either of them can say more, everything goes to shit.

That's when we get to Ep5. This episode focuses primarily on Mizu, the central piece of this love triangle, and does the most out of all the episodes to shed some light on her character and goals, fleshing her out to be more than just the vengeful, highly proficient samurai we've seen thus far (symbolised by The Ronin), but also a person who is capable of love, domesticity and gentleness (symbolised by The Bride). But in the end, Mizu rejects both these ideals, instead becoming an Onryo, who is neither guided by pride/honour, nor love.

By 'reincarnating' into an Onryo, Mizu is able to win the day and save the women in the brothel. However, as she has now fully embraced her status as an Onryo, and is exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, she lets the Tokunobu clansmen take Akemi away while Akemi's screams echo in her ear.

Mizu says this choice is for Akemi's own good, that Akemi's better off; because Mizu is jaded and weary, and cannot afford the luxury of idealism, and thus must always be strictly practical and realistic. So of course that's why, in her view, yes, Akemi should not be wasting her time in a brothel where women are exploited and abused, nor should Akemi be so naive to think that her marriage with Taigen is even still possible. However, regardless of Mizu's views, it is not for her to decide, because though Akemi is privileged in some sense, she is still trapped and voiceless, and deserves the right to choose her own destiny.

But as it happens, in the end, though Akemi did not choose who she gets to marry, she DOES get to choose her next move when Edo burns down.

"I want to be great."

This one line is the key to her entire arc, which is only just beginning. We see she quickly has acquired the affection and good graces of the shogun's son after their wedding night and consummation, and with Madame Kaji and the girls now serving her, Akemi will only grow to become a prominent political player.

NOW, only after analysing the characters as they are within this season, only can we speculate how their arcs will continue as the show progresses.

First and foremost, I will reassert the popular opinion that Mizu and Akemi are foils. The climax (pun intended) of Ep7 illustrates this as it parallels the turning points in both Mizu's and Akemi's arcs:

Mizu melts the steel of all her loves and shames, the people she's collected: the broken blade wielded by both Chiaki and Taigen, Akemi's knife, Ringo's bell, Master Eiji's tongs - this symbolises her beginning to accept herself, and in doing so, also accepting the help of others;

Akemi consummates her marriage with Takayoshi Itoh, gains his affection, and cements her position as a woman in the shogun's palace - this symbolises her taking charge of her situation, no longer playing the damsel, but using her position to her advantage, empowering both herself and the underprivileged women around her.

These are thus two directly contrasting, diverging journeys:

Mizu's arc moves inward (yin). It is an internal path of self-love and self-discovery, focused on finding peace and tranquility inside herself, and this involves allowing herself to let others into her life, opening herself up to friendship and empathy once more.

Akemi's arc moves outward (yang), it is an external path of growth, transforming from a naive, caged princess to a powerful woman and a force to be reckoned with.

Akemi is always dressed in red, even her eyes are a bit of a reddish-brown rather than brown-black like most other characters, and in her penultimate scene she stands against a backdrop of flames. She is fire: quick-tempered, passionate, full of energy. Red is powerful, authoritative, and in eastern cultures, it is associated with prosperity.

Mizu is blue: her eyes, her sword, her clothes. She is also named after water; it's where she goes to recover, reflect and meditate. Water is fluid like a brook weaving around a stone in its path, always changing and adapting, it is graceful, it is beautiful and ruthless, tranquil yet swift.

Thus, in the future, I expect we will see plenty of political manoeuvring and intrigue in Akemi's plotline, where she fully embraces control of her life, and begins to take action to help others as well, realising that her own oppression is just one piece in a much larger picture. Her main conflict is with society.

In direct contrast, Mizu's main conflict is with herself. She must realise that her desire for vengeance is a projection of her own deep-rooted self-hatred. Her arc must move towards unpacking her feelings and trauma so she can be at peace with herself and allow space for love in her heart. Because as we saw in Ep5, Mizu had come extremely close to achieving peace and joy, as she had not only loved Mikio, but also had briefly believed that Mikio had loved her (and accepted her for who she is) as well.

Thus, assuming the story is not planned as a tragedy, Mizu will likely end up getting her vengeance, but it will not satisfy her, because it is not what she needs. What she needs is to let go of the Onryo within her and to reconcile both The Ronin and The Bride within herself, as she is both a fighter and a lover, but not a monster.

(Edit: I recommend checking out this post by @stylographic-blue-rhapsody for a much clearer analysis about Mizu'a symbolism as Ronin, Bride and Onryo!)

And now that we've mostly covered each of the characters individually, we can finally get to the main point of this post: the love triangle.

--

Let's talk about Option A: Akemi.

As I covered extensively earlier, Mizu and Akemi are foils, a yin-yang pair. But while they play off each other very well in a thematic sense, I personally believe that a serious romance between them will be more complicated if they become endgame. This is because Akemi's natural resolution is to embrace a position of power and influence, where she has both freedom and control over herself and to make much-needed changes in a prejudiced society. Meanwhile, Mizu's natural resolution is the opposite; her happy ending would to find a peaceful life where she is safe and free from prying eyes, and able to be her true self.

Thus, it would make very little sense for Akemi to forfeit power and run away with Mizu and start a humble life together. Akemi wants to be great, and that is absolutely what she deserves. On the other end of the spectrum, it would also make little sense for Mizu to dedicate her life in service of Akemi, such as acting as a bodyguard or something similar, because a life in a palace full of court intrigue and conspiracies is far from what Mizu needs to be happy.

With that being said, if Mizu/Akemi is endgame, and assuming their overarching character arcs do not shift directions, their love story would likely be either tragic, doomed, or bittersweet. I do absolutely love this type of story because personally I'm a sucker for catharsis, so it would be very interesting if the writers do decide to take this route.

Also, as a note, please do not take this as me dunking on this pairing. This is just my personal opinion and analysis and I completely understand if you disagree!

--

Then, of course, we have Option B: Taigen.

Between Akemi and Mizu, Taigen is a bit of a free-floater here, because Season 1 leaves off at a point where his arc is very ambiguous as to where it's headed. While Akemi climbs for greatness and Mizu goes on a journey across the ocean to (presumably) discover more about her heritage, we have little clues about where Taigen is headed. And if I'm being honest, I'm sure he has no idea either! He still hasn't reclaimed his honour, so he would be unable to rejoin the Shindo Dojo; he's been rejected by Akemi; and while he showed loyalty to the shogun, the shogun is now dead, and all the shogun's men who had witnessed his "humiliating" death were left to die by Lady Itoh, who is now pulling the strings within the palace.

Therefore, Taigen has very few options here.

And when considering his role in the story is as Mizu's begrudging ally, his arc will undoubtedly be focused on unlearning his xenophobia and misogyny, the latter of which we have not seen yet, but is surely present. Now, whether he will do this in Mizu's presence or absence will be unknown until we see Season 2. Following the Season 1 finale, he might return to Kohama and wait for Mizu there as he learns humility and remorse over his past cruelty; or maybe he will follow Mizu to London, and the two of them will continue to butt heads until he finally admits to himself that he cares for Mizu more than he would like to admit. There is no room for doubt that his growing feelings for Mizu are more-than-platonic, because we all saw him get turned on by sparring with her in Ep7 lol. Thus, regardless of the exact choice he makes, I am sure that his overall arc will be focused on redeeming his character.

Now, when it comes go redeeming him, I know there are many who simply don't want him redeemed because he was such a jerk to Mizu, and while yes I agree he was awful, I do believe there is also nuance to his character.

Previously I've discussed in great detail the colour and elemental symbolism with Mizu and Akemi, but have yet to touch on how they relate to Taigen. So, let's talk about that for a second.

While Akemi is red and Mizu is blue, Taigen is green.

Green is a complementary colour to Akemi's red. Complementary colours are directly opposite each other in the colour wheel; when mixed, they neutralise each other, but when put side-by-side, they form a pleasing and impactful contrast that boosts the brightness and prominence of both colours. This mirrors Taigen and Akemi's relationship. They are an "ideal" pair because they complement each other very well, and bring out each other's most prominent traits. Mizu's comment about their similar "brattiness" comes to mind here.

Green is also an analogous colour with Mizu's blue. These colours are sitting right next to each other on the colour wheel; their natural similarity makes it easy for them to form a cohesive overall appearance, but using both in equal amounts will make a design overwhelming and too busy. Thus, the best way to use analogous colours is to make one the dominant colour, while the other will serve as an accent. I feel this also speaks to the dynamic in Taigen and Mizu's relationship. They came from the space place, both from nothing; they're both strong fighters who love the sport, and work well together when fighting side-by-side; however, they butt heads too easily, mirroring how analogous colours can be too overwhelming when used in equal amounts. Thus, to work together in harmony, one has to be the dominant colour, while the other serves as the accent. In this case, the dominant force would be Mizu, as she is the protagonist of the story, while the accent would be Taigen.

By fulfilling this role as an "accent" to Mizu, Taigen's character would easily be slotted in as a the love interest. This is in contrast with a Mizu/Akemi relationship, whereby Akemi is Mizu's foil before she is Mizu's love interest. This is because, by being a love interest, a character usually takes a backseat in the story, serving the plot and the themes by playing a purely supportive role, and this is not possible in Akemi's case because her character exists to parallel and contrast Mizu (red and blue), and not to support her.

It is possible to serve as a supporting love interest in Taigen's case however. And this is because he, unlike the other characters, does not currently have a definitive place within the story. He initially served the plot as an antagonistic force, but now as he is slowly unlearning his prejudices and becoming a better person, he can no longer serve the story by acting purely as a rival.

Instead, he will serve the story by literally supporting Mizu. And this relates to Taigen being earth, which is steady, firm and reliable, unwavering in loyalty and principles, hardworking and rooted in stability, which is seen in Taigen's staunch and inflexible obedience to the traditions and rules of society. These traits are what make him a perfect samurai, but not a good man. However, unlike most people in their world, Taigen is still capable of change and redemption, which is why Mizu says that he has the potential to be great. Not great by way of power or glory, but great in character. Already, he is honourable to a fault, and does not betray Mizu even after she technically robbed him of everything he was striving towards. And when he was shot by an arrow in the chasm, he did not hesitate a second to tell Mizu to use him as a human shield and save herself.

The trigger for his redemption is Mizu. If she had never beat him in that duel, Taigen would live on to become a man like Akemi's father. Cruel, power-hungry, controlling, conservative. But through Mizu, Taigen's sharp edges are ground down, much like water that wears down the stones in a river.

Where Mizu and Akemi's possible love story would be a clash of wills, full of passion and even heartbreak, a possible love story between Mizu and Taigen would be the wearing down of souls. Mizu would make Taigen a better person, and in turn Taigen would dedicate his full respect and support to Mizu as his equal, thus getting her to slowly open up and love herself. Already, Taigen has grown enough to admit (begrudgingly, and in his own Taigen way) that Mizu is better than him; though, clearly, he still has a long way to go, as he still calls Mizu a demon shortly after that.

But basically, Taigen is a very simple man (his main goal now is "to be happy"), and Mizu has great depths that he cannot yet fathom. For this love story to work, it has to begin with Taigen changing for the better. If he succeeds in that, and is able to accept Mizu for all her complexities, I believe that they will make a formidable pair. And though he'd likely still throw a jab or snarky remark at Mizu every now and then, I think he'd come tl wholeheartedly admire Mizu as a brilliant swordsman and a kind soul. Thus, should things work out and this be endgame, Taigen would be able to provide Mizu with what Mikio could not: an idyllic life that is not built on a lie, but mutual trust, respect, admiration, and equality.

Or hey, maybe they could both make their own dojo together! I don't know.

(Edit: This post by @rinandsketches does a great job at delving into Taigen's character and a potential Mizu/Taigen relationship if you'd like to read more about this angle!)

--

Now, as I move on from Taigen, there are a couple more options on how to resolve this love triangle and that includes Option C: Ringo.

In this option, Mizu does not have an endgame romance with either Akemi or Taigen. In this route, she finds peace and love through friendship, solidarity, and a found family between herself, Ringo and Master Eiji—a bunch of outcasts in society who make a strong trifecta of sword-makers.

Also, as an aside while I'm talking about Ringo, I'd like to point out that I believe his element is air and his colour is a neutral grey; he is talkative, easy-going, wise, curious, light on his feet (stealthy) and free-spirited, which are all traits linked to air, and traits that complement Mizu nicely, as he is capable of getting Mizu to open up and trust others again, while Mizu helps him reach his true potential for greatness.

--

And finally, there's Option D: Polyamory.

This is basically an "all of the above" option, in which everyone wins and it's a super duper happy ending. It would also be awesome to get some polyamorous representation, and seeing the dynamic between Akemi/Mizu/Taigen play out would be very entertaining and refreshing. So, you never know, this just might be the true endgame!

--

AAAAND with that, I close my extremely long analysis of what is essentially Mizu's love life. Whatever the final outcome of this love triangle though, I just hope it will be well-written and satisfying to all the characters' respective arcs. (Also I just want Mizu to be HAPPY goddamn it because she deserves the world and her coochie eaten out)

Now, I highly doubt anyone will read any of this (especially not until the end!) but that's fine. I just have so many thoughts and feelings about this show and I just needed to get this out of my system lol! But if by some miracle you did read this far, I wholeheartedly welcome any sharing of thoughts and ideas because man am I obsessed with this show! But of course, if we have an opposing opinions, please be respectful when letting me know; I am very open to friendly discussions.

[thomine]

truthful rumours

cyno / reader, 1.3k words

shouldn’t the rumour be dead after frequently hounding others that it was fake? he’s not wrong, but things are… complicated.

general audiences, secret relationships, repost.

notes: work tag :: beta'ed by the lovely @/andromeda-nova-writing when this was posted, lol.

“I love you.”

The man can’t look at you. His hands bolster a bouquet of roses and padisarahs to shield his face. Instead of aiding his claim, it steals your attention. To have the flowers pruned and arranged probably cost more than the average spent by a customer in Puspa Cafe.

It takes a minute of silence for you to remember you haven’t given him a reply.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, pushing the bouquet away. You want to address him but can’t recall his name. It has only been a month since he arrived, and he’s barely even conversed with you. “I appreciate the effort, but… I can’t return your feelings.”

He’s jumpy, frantic, and you almost feel apologetic as he freaks out. Something behind you catches his eye, hardening his gaze. The anxious boy you saw flies out the window. Before you can turn to confirm what it is, his question throws you off.

“Is it because the rumours are true?”

You scrunch your eyebrows in perturbation. You’re just an ordinary employee of Puspa Cafe. It doesn’t sit right with you that you’ll be involved in rumours. Hardly anyone remembers your name unless they’re filing a complaint. But, there is someone whom you’ve grown close to that constantly has murmurs and secrets attached to his name.

You give him a quizzical look. “What rumour?”

“The rumour that you’re dating the general mahamantra.”

Shouldn’t the rumour be dead after frequently hounding others that it was fake? He’s not wrong, but things are… complicated. 

“Putting your feelings aside, what makes you think that?” You didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but he pulls himself back as if you’re some desert scorpion ready to sting.

“Well, he walks you home when you end your shift…” he mutters, looking down. It’s the third time someone raises your walks home with Cyno to start prying into your love life.

“Okay, but we live near each other and there have been reports of increased criminal activities. I don’t think anything about it is inherently romantic,” you chide, hands on your hips. You wonder if whatever caught his eye before is still there, listening to the conversation.

“Then let me walk you home, since there’s nothing inherently romantic about—”

“Wait a minute,” and you place both hands in front of you to create distance. “I think you should think before you speak. Just a minute ago, you confessed you had romantic feelings for me and I rejected you.”

He nods, blankly staring at you. Your point completely misses him if not (or at least you hoped) it would slap him across the face. 

“Aren’t you a storyteller?” you jeer, “If you harbour romantic feelings and walk home with that person then it’s obviously romantic? I’ve already rejected you, so anything romantic involving both of us would make me… how do I put this… I’ll be uncomfortable.”

“But how can you be so certain that the general mahamantra doesn’t possess romantic feelings for you?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You blink, taken aback at the conversation’s progression. Usually people drop the topic once you’ve explained, as nonchalantly as you can, that every act is proof of your close bonds with him and shouldn’t be understood otherwise.

It is expected that he’ll push you to a corner though, you did provoke him. Luckily, you’re prepared. Perhaps a little too well, many nights spent pondering.

It’s hard to pin if your hesitation is due to your faith in your answer—10 reasons why anyone can be certain Cyno doesn’t like you romantically. It’s an arsenal you don’t want to use. Saying it out loud feels like admitting that maybe, even if it’s slim, Cyno probably doesn’t like you as much as you believed.

There are pockets of truth in your lies at the end of the day. Like how the routine of walking home together is for your safety, and how your house is a road away from his so it won’t inconvenience him unlike the new employee.

You hear your name being called. What perfect timing; you guess Cyno has been listening all along.

“Am I interrupting something?” he says with crossed arms, his menacing aura clashing with the pride of the new employee. There seems to be a second conversation in the way their gazes fight.

The new employee hides the flowers behind his back after lowering his head. “I suppose it is late,” the new employee says. “As much as I’d like a reply, whatever suits your boat. I just… hope you’ll give me a chance if the rumours are false.”

Cyno grunts. His slightly scrunched face indicates he has a comment, but he remains quiet. When his rival leaves, he looks at you, eyes unwavering.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

The answer to the new employee’s question is at the tip of your tongue. You push it aside to reply, but it leaves a bitter taste. 

“Yeah. Sorry if you had to wait.”

“Not a problem.” 

The cafe has been void of customers since 30 minutes ago. It’s a different situation when you step out behind Cyno. Eyes watch both of you as you maintain distance no matter how much you want to grab his hand.

You’ve escaped an interrogation, which is enough questioning for a tiring day. Anyways, you have the answer you’ve swept aside to entertain.

After all, how long has it been since Cyno did something you couldn’t explain through the views of friendship?

“I love you.”

Even in the dimness of the night, you can’t deny the weight of Cyno’s gaze on you. True enough, you meet with his red eyes. They glimmer under the banners of moonlight slipping through the dense canopy. It’s the gentlest stare you’ve come across, a refuge compared to a citizen’s look whenever you’re out with Cyno.

It takes a minute of silence for you to remember you haven’t said it back. However, they’re stuck in your throat, fighting for space with laughter that wants to burst from your chest.

“I refuse to believe you like me that way,” you tease instead, a giddy smile plastered on your face as you titter. The prior event flashes in your mind like a film, and the current irony amuses you. “I mean, shouldn’t you be freaking out after telling me how you feel?”

He doesn’t seem offended. It can be hard to tell without noticing the subtle changes in his expressions, but he replies calmly.

“This isn’t some badly written romantic comedy so, no, I shouldn’t and wouldn’t be freaking out. We’re not children anymore.”

You giggle, not wanting to guffaw and attract unwanted attention, ending this pleasant moment.

“I mean it when I say I love you,” Cyno whispers, taking your hand. You gasp at the sudden contact, but the shock dies when you remember only the trees and critters are your audience. “I don’t know how you would reply to his question, but I didn’t want to hear it.”

You interlace your fingers with his. “I didn’t want to say it either. Sometimes, I’m too convincing.”

He bends to pluck a sweet flower before passing it to you, “I’m sorry I can’t say it more or do more to show it.”

You take a whiff of its scent and want to tuck it behind his ear—

There’s rustling of the bushes. You drop the flower. It crunches as Cyno swiftly adjusts his grip on your hand. He spawns his spear while you prepare a series of explanations for your close proximity with him if anyone inquires. From holding your hand in preparation to run to preventing you from fleeing too far from him in fright.  

After a beat of silence, he keeps his spear. The sparks in the atmosphere from elemental usage dissipates. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Cyno,” you say as you tug his hand. Although there were plenty of anxieties built up over years—after falsifying every action to the point you almost believed the hole you dug was your grave—his words are a wave of reassurance, and even if brief, it’s all you really need. “It’s okay, I understand.”

You lean in and kiss him on the cheeks in the cover of the night. The warmth on your lips tells you enough.

“Just promise me that you’ll be safe,” you add.

“I will be.” He lets out a tiny breath. “But you—”

You gingerly press your index finger against his lips.

“I’ve lied to others for years now. Although, yes, at times I fall prey to my own words, but you’re always there when I need you, right? Like now. You don’t have to worry.”

It’s sad to hide, but what else can be done when falling in love with someone who has a dangerous vocation? Even if it breaks your heart that every moment together means proportionally long hours spent rationalising and seeing everything as an act of friends in case anyone asks; even if it means years of silent stares and glimpse of affection; you think it’s worth if he doesn’t have to worry that his enemies will go after you.

After all, don’t you love him?

author's note: another repost from an old blog! i didn't read through it at all. um. i remember this so i guess it wasn't too bad! i can afford not to look it over... right...