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hand-picked-star · 5 months ago

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The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the heart | Chapter 17

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

The story is set in early 20th century. I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Thank you notes: For this chapter I want to thank @featheredclover as she asked me to write about their London life, I got a chance to delve into their psyche and got to write about their fears and insecurities. And also like to thank my husband as I annoyed the living shit out of him by asking how did he think Arnav would react to certain questions.😂😂 and last but not the least @phuljari who inspired me to write in the first place.❤️

Chapter 17

“I’m hungry. Let’s go out to eat tonight,” Khushi suggested, as she and Arnav lounged on the sofa, both worn out from their earlier activities.

"But we need to shower first. Let's save some water, Mrs. Raizada."

Before Khushi could react, he swept her off her feet. She yelped in surprise, as his strong arms carried her towards their bathroom.

After a while, they found themselves sitting across from each other in a nearby Indian restaurant. Arnav looked at her amusedly as she ordered to her heart's content.

"Kadai paneer, tarke wale daal, sarso ka saag, rasun aur dhaniye ki chutney umm....haan jeere wale chawal, naan aur haan makhan wala naan." Then she looked at Arnav expectantly. "Don't tell me you will only have water," she teased, causing him to break into a grin.

"Order for me too."

"Ek plain naan aur daal makhni, tarke mein mirchi kam dalke, thik hain?"

Arnav took Khushi's hand across the table as the waiter went away to prepare their meal. He played with her fingers absentmindedly.

"What exactly did Lavanya tell you?" His voice was calm but curious.

"I met her at the market the other day," Khushi began, noticing the way his eyes narrowed at her words.

"In this part of the city?"

"Yes. She mentioned they have a farmhouse nearby where... you and she spent last summer together."

Arnav's eyes darkened briefly, but he remained silent, prompting her to continue.

"Then we went to a coffee shop. She said it was your favourite.... that you two frequented it last summer."

Arnav chuckled softly. "She didn't actually lie. She just omitted some crucial details."

Khushi frowned. "I don't understand."

"It’s true we were at that farmhouse last summer," her heart almost stopped at his admission. "But she conveniently left out the ten other people who were there with us as well. Every summer, Mr. Kashyap invites his apprentices to spend a week at his farmhouse with him and his family before the vacation."

"And as for the coffee shop," Arnav continued, "we used to go there as a group every evening during our stay at the farmhouse. It's just an okayish place, nothing special. That you already know since you've been there."

A silence fell between them as they both absorbed the situation, each lost in their own thoughts. The bustling energy of the restaurant faded into the background as they reflected on their conversation. The clinking of dishes and the murmur of other diners became a distant hum. Arnav’s fingers, still gently caressing hers, seemed to hold a comforting warmth, while Khushi’s gaze lingered on him, curious to know more.

"Did Mr. Kashyap give you the proposal that summer?"

"Yes," Arnav replied thoughtfully. "I actually know Lavanya from university. She was my junior but we were in the same debate group... and as time went on, our social circles began to overlap. One of my friends back then suggested I should pursue Lavanya. At the time, I wasn't actually looking for any distraction. I had this one-track mind to finish the course as soon as possible and go home. After graduation, I started my apprenticeship...I didn’t really see her again until last summer when she began attending the Inns of Court parties."

It was as if Khushi’s curiosity was increasing exponentially. She wanted to know so much more but didn’t want to ruin their evening. Still, she decided to let her heart take control and ask him everything she needed to know to find peace.

"Why didn't you marry her?"

"Because I was in love with someone else."

Khushi simply nodded, her lips forming a surprised 'o' as a rush of thoughts and emotions swirled in her mind. She wasn’t sure how to respond, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them.

"You see, Khushi, the summer before that, I kissed a very drunk girl who might not have been in her right consciousness, but she stole all of my senses....that beautiful girl gave me countless sleepless nights."

Her eyes held a playful accusation as she gazed at him, noticing the smirk dancing at the corner of his lips.

"Is that all?" Arnav asked. He had no desire to linger on this subject any longer.

Khushi hesitated and then blurted out, "How did she know about the scar on your left thigh?"

A deep furrow appeared between his eyebrows as he gazed at Khushi, the corners of his mouth set in a hard line. He sighed, "She took it too far, didn't she?"

After a brief pause, he said, "She was there when it happened. There's a lake nearby, and we all went fishing one afternoon. We found an old boat, and I cut my thigh on a sharp edge when we tried to get on it."

Arnav’s mind drifted to that day, recalling how Lavanya had insisted on dressing his wound. David rescued him by taking charge of the dressing himself, though he never missed a chance to remind Arnav of his favour.

Khushi felt a cloak of mortification settle over her. Her downcast eyes were fixed on his finger gently caressing her palm.

"She didn't actually lie about the scar too, I guess. She just said she would have an identical scar on her thigh like you. It was me who assumed the worst."

"That's exactly what she wanted you to assume. Don't feel bad about that." he chuckled humorlessly.

Khushi felt her cheeks burn. She felt utterly embarrassed for being fooled like that. She blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her eyes. Arnav took her hand in his and gently tugged it, urging her to look at him.

"Hey, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Fold in on yourself. You need to talk about what's bothering you, Khushi. Don't let it fester in your mind." He sighed, "You used to share everything with me. Now you don't. Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she replied with an embarrassed smile. "I've dumped so many pointless conversations on you over the years. You probably need a break. I don't want you to run away, scared by my ramblings."

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes softened, and his face transformed into the expression she adored—a look that made him a hundred times more handsome than usual.

"You aren't going to lose me, Khushi."

A lone tear escaped her eye as she gazed at the beautiful face of the man who had become her whole world. She longed for him to want her for the rest of his life, and only her. She wished these caramel-brown eyes would look at her as if she were his entire universe. She wanted him to dream only of her and to feel as if he would crumble into pieces if she ever stopped loving him. Because that’s how she felt about him, and she yearned for him to feel the same way.

"You have no idea how deeply I feel for you."

"I love you too, Mrs. Raizada."

"You mean comparing a small tree to an entire forest?" she said with a teasing smile as she brushed her tear away.

"A small tree, Mrs. Raizada? You could have at least compared it to a garden. You've just wounded me," he replied, feigning pain. Khushi broke into a fit of giggles, her laughter filling the space between them.

Their moment was interrupted when the waiter arrived with their food. Once the server left, Arnav’s eyes smoldered as he asked, "Do you really think it’s just a small tree?"

"I was just teasing you," she said with a soft smile. "Most of the time, I feel it's at least a small forest—except when I'm being a bit 'sanki'." She winked at him as she dug in.

As they stepped out of the restaurant after dinner, the chilling wind of London swept around them. It was noticeably colder than it had been all year. Arnav helped Khushi put on her scarf and coat, his movements gentle and attentive as he wrapped the fabric snugly around her. Khushi shivered despite the layers and rubbed her hands together. She edged closer to Arnav as they walked down the dimly lit streets.

"Why haven’t you brought your gloves?" Arnav scolded gently.

Before Khushi could respond, Arnav removed his left glove and handed it to her. She took it without thinking and blinked down at it.

"Put it on," he urged, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Khushi slid the glove onto her hand. It was too large for her, but it still retained the warmth of his skin. Once her hand was covered, Arnav intertwined their gloved fingers and slipped his bare hand into his coat pocket, guiding Khushi to place her bare hand into her own pocket. As they walked hand in hand through the chilly night, a serene calm settled over them.

"Can I ask you a question?" Khushi said, tugging on his hand to get his attention.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why did you fall in love with me?"

"Um...because you kissed the hell out of me."

"Arnav, I’m serious," Khushi whined.

"What? I had dreamed about our first kiss for almost two years. Why can’t that be a valid reason?"

"You are impossible." Amusement and mirth sparkled in her eyes. "You know, I spent a lot of time last summer imagining what kind of person you would fall in love with one day."

"And?"

"I drew up a picture in my mind, you know, kind of like a blueprint."

"And It didn’t match you at all, did it?" he chuckled.

Surprised, Khushi looked at him and averted her eyes to look ahead.

"What was she like?"

"Strong, independent, smart," she whispered in the air, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the wind.

Arnav fell silent, his gaze thoughtful as he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Khushi watched him intently and wondered what he might be thinking, the pause stretching between them as she waited for him to speak.

"You’re right," he finally said. "That’s totally my type. And I got lucky to find someone who happens to give the best kisses as well." He leaned in to steal a kiss, muffling her protest. Straightening up, Khushi shot him a glare, but he just smiled and began walking, pulling her along with him.

"Buaji thik kehti hain, sanki ho tum. You are really mad." he said shaking his head. "That's why Lavanya unnerves you so much, isn't it? I won’t deny that she does have her own qualities, but I refuse to let you believe you're anything less."

"Come on, I know who I am," her voice so small.

"You don’t give yourself enough credit, do you?"

"What have I done in my life that makes you think I’m all of those things?"

He stopped walking and turned her to face him. "I’m not good with words, Khushi, but I want you to know that I’ve always admired your strength, even as a kid. You’ve even inspired me to keep going at times......and it absolutely breaks my heart to know that you see yourself as the total opposite."

He held her gaze and continued, "You chose to live, Khushi. You chose to love." She broke eye contact and looked over his shoulder. He gently tugged her hands to draw her closer to meet his gaze again. Reluctantly, she turned her eyes back to his, but they remained guarded.

"I am sure It took immense strength to keep going when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear. Yet, you gave life a second chance. Loving chachu and chachi as deeply as you loved your own parents wasn't easy, but you did it. You chose to find happiness with your new family..... Despite the bitterness of your past, you've held on to your inner child." He gave her a soft smile as her eyes shone, held captive by his gaze. "Now, look at yourself. You've grown into a kind, gentle and strong human being. And that’s truly remarkable, I think."

"And let’s not forget 'sexy,' too," He added under his breath, causing Khushi to let out a teary laugh.

As these two souls stood still, oblivious to the people and the chilly wind around them, they sought to uncover treasures in each other’s gaze. A slow smile ghosted over Khushi’s lips.

"You seem pretty good with words to me." Her eyes sparkled in the street lights as she said accussingly, "But you still didn't answer my question."

His lips curved into the half-smile Khushi loved so much as he kissed the tip of her nose, which was turning red from the cold. "You are my blueprint, Khushi."

"Come on, I don’t want to freeze to death," Arnav said, dragging her along as she giggled. The echos of her laughter danced in the cold wind.

As they neared their house, Khushi gently pulled a somewhat reluctant Arnav toward her favourite bench. The quiet of the neighbourhood seemed to invite a moment of stillness. Khushi settled comfortably against him, resting her head on his shoulder. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes and took in the serene surroundings—the faint rustling of leaves, the distant hum of the city, and the gentle embrace of Arnav beside her. The world seemed to pause for a moment, and she savoured the peace and warmth of the simple, shared tranquillity.

“Mujhe yeh bohot accha lag raha hai,” Khushi said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Kya?” Arnav asked, turning slightly to look at her.

“Yeh—ap, hum, aur hamari choti si duniya,” she replied, a gentle smile playing on her lips. The warmth in her words wrapped around them like a cozy blanket.

Smiling, he pressed his cheek against her head.The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble.

“Do you remember me as a child, like before my parents died?” Khushi asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

“Yeah, I do. you were like a tiny human being. It’s amazing how something so small could be so annoying,” Arnav said with twinkling eyes.

She shoved him playfully, and they both laughed, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

“I don’t remember much,” Arnav admitted after a bit, his tone turning nostalgic. “But I do remember you being a very happy kid.”

Arnav chuckled as a specific memory came to mind. “One time, we went to your haveli during Diwali. You were stuffing your face with jalebis. I asked you for one, and do you know what you did?”

Khushi shook her head.

"You stuck your tongue out at me and told me to lick your fingers,” Arnav continued, laughing at the recollection. “Even then, you were obsessed with me.”

Khushi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. To emphasize her mock annoyance, she stuck her tongue out at him just like she did back then.

Without missing a beat, he gently grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sweetly. The kiss was soft and lingering.

As they pulled apart, the first droplets of rain began to fall, turning into a light drizzle. Arnav looked up at the sky, then back at Khushi. He momentarily got stuck in that moment. She looked so beautiful, so serene, it stole his breath. Her hair, escaping from her scarf and slightly tousled from their kiss, framed her face beautifully. The soft glow of the streetlights cast a gentle light on her features, making her eyes sparkle like stars. Her lips, still curved in a tender smile, were slightly flushed, and her cheeks had a rosy tint from the cold, with rain droplets catching in her eyelashes and glistening like tiny jewels.

Reluctantly, they hurried towards the house hand in hand, his eyes never leaving hers. The drizzle quickly transformed into a heavy downpour, the rain creating a symphony of splashing water around them. They barely made it inside before the rain came down in full force, drenching the world outside.

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari

#ipkknd #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #13 years of ipkknd #historical au #whispers of the heart

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hellofeanor · 3 years ago

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Fëanorian Quenya

Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.

I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.

So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.

The stuff probably everybody knows already

For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.

Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.

Why tho

Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.

So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.

Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.

So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!

“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”

“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”

Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.

Okay so here’s how it works

Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.

Some examples:

Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.

While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.

Which other elves used this sound in their speech?

Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.

When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.

What this means for your fanfic or whatever

The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.

If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)

It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.

Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.

(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)

Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)

Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!

#feanor #silmarillion #quenya #tolkien #middle earth

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fific7 · 3 years ago

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Unexpected - Part 2

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, mutual adolescent exploration of bodies, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

For the next few days after your reunion, you noticed that Caspian had found various excuses to visit you in the smaller study next to Cornelius’ study, where you were busy trying to bring some order into the chaos that reigned in that equally small space.

He never stayed for too long, but instead just seemed to want to talk about your days as childhood friends and you were happy to indulge him. Cornelius had put his head round your door on a couple of occasions to see what all the noise was about, and withdrew smiling to himself. You got the impression that he was happy you were here and talking and laughing with Caspian.

You also couldn’t help but notice the lingering looks Caspian was lavishing on you. Not sure in your mind if he was just pleased to see a friendly face from the past or…. could he be interested in you? Was that even a possibility?

How could you even try to find out? You couldn’t exactly ask him, could you. “Oh good morning, your Majesty - pray tell me, are you attracted to me?” You shook your head at your fanciful thoughts, put them out of your head! Turning back to the pile of books and manuscripts which you had to catalogue, you let out a long sigh.

“Are you becoming overwhelmed, my lady?” said Cornelius’ voice, and you looked up in surprise to see his kind and smiling face opposite you. How did he do that? Just appear out of nowhere. You smiled back at him, “Oh no, Professor - I just have one or two things on my mind.” He nodded, “The King?” smiling even more broadly. You felt your face burning with a blush and you hastened to say, “No! Not the King. I was just thinking about.. about what I shall wear tomorrow. It is a daily dilemma for ladies.”

Cornelius gave you a mischievous grin, “Ah, I see. Pardon my confusion, my lady. Yes, I can see how that would present problems. Men have it so much easier.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Continuing to think about your actual dilemma once Cornelius had left, you eventually came up with a plan. Unsure how good a plan it was, but you’d try it out for a little while and see if you got a reaction from Caspian. Any reaction.

You’d made a couple of acquaintances amongst the other ladies of the court since you arrived, but you certainly didn’t know them well enough to discuss your plan with them. And besides, in one way or another, all the young ladies at court were trying to win Caspian’s attention so that was another reason you couldn’t confide in them.

Deciding to put this plan of yours into action the next time you were alone with Caspian, you squared your shoulders and delved back into your world of cataloguing.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian was also sighing out loud in his chambers. He put aside the intricate document he was supposed to be reading. He couldn’t concentrate properly, not when all he could think about was her. Wondering if she’d noticed his numerous and reasonless visits to her chamber, interrupting her work to talk about… well, nothing really. Silly things they’d done while they were children. He hadn’t talked to her about one thing though, which had always been at the forefront of his mind. Did she remember it too?

═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°══ ══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°══

In his mind’s eye he was back in the orchard with her, the sun beginning to dip in the sky, dusk fast gathering around them. They hadn’t seen each other for several months. At the time, Caspian had not long turned 14 and she was just about to. He’d gone through puberty the year before and he knew she’d noticed the wispy moustache on his top lip and the fact that he now had a deep voice. She’d asked him about it more than once and his face had burned, he hadn’t known what to say.

That day, they’d both collapsed under one of the pear trees, having exhausted themselves as usual rushing around between the trees like maniacs. They lay on their backs, looking up at the beautiful colours the sky was beginning to turn. She turned her head to him, “Caspian?” He looked over at her, smiling, still getting his breath back, “Yes?” “When you got your moustache, was that you becoming a man?” He felt his face redden as it did whenever she brought up this topic. He looked away but decided to respond to her for once, “Yes, I am a man now.” “As of eight months ago, I became a woman,” she said proudly, before sitting up and pulling down her loose embroidered top, “Look!” Caspian shot up into a sitting position, unashamedly staring at her newly rounded breasts, bared for his eyes only. His mouth dropped open and he felt a distinct stirring in his breeches.

She leant even closer to him, whispering, “I think you should touch them, Caspian! And I want to see yours,” she nodded her head towards his groin. He could hear himself beginning to pant slightly and his hands - seemingly of their own accord - reached out and massaged her breasts. He loved the feeling of their softness and the buds of her nipples against his palms. Then she moved back from him, “C’mon Caspian, it’s your turn!” she demanded, curiosity burning in her eyes. Shyly, Caspian sat up on his knees, unlacing his breeches and pushing them and his underwear halfway down his thighs. His manhood was revealed in all its erect glory.

Staring at it, she squealed, “Oooh! It looks like a big sausage! With a fur cape round its neck!” He snorted in embarrassment, saying “It’s just my dick,” and beginning to pull his breeches back up, but she stopped him by taking hold of his manhood in both hands and examining it closely. “Your dick?” His eyes were closed in pleasure, he couldn’t believe how good it felt to have her hands on him. “That’s what all the men call it,” he managed to say, opening his eyes and looking down to where she held him in a firm grip.

”Oh, okay, I’ll call it that too then.” She squeezed it, then ran her hand up its length before placing her fingers in a ring just under the head. She was staring at the reactions on his face and listening eagerly to the soft low moans he was making as she touched him. “Oh, your dick is so hard!” she exclaimed, “…but the skin feels velvety soft.” “It’s not always hard,” he whispered. “Why’s it hard now, then?” she questioned. He shrugged. “Don’t know,” he lied, just as she slid a hand between his legs and took hold of his balls. She roughly pulled them towards her for a closer look and he yelped in pain, so she loosened her grip on them slightly. “Sorry, Caspian! What are these?” she asked, rolling them in her palm. “My balls,” he muttered. “Well named!” she laughed then suddenly let go of him, leaning back a little. She lifted her skirts and pulled her French knickers down, “This is what mine looks like.” Caspian’s eyes widened once more.

They were both up on their knees again, facing each other. She had quickly taken hold of his dick again, liking the feel of it in her hand. Once again, his eyes closed and he groaned, much to her pleasure. Then he’d reached out and hesitatingly placed two fingers between her legs, starting to explore, and when he found what felt like an opening, his curiosity sparked and he began pushing one of his fingers inside. She jumped back, scolding him, “Caspian! That’s naughty. I think you’re meant to put this…” she tugged on his length, “…inside there, not your finger!”

She shuffled closer to him until their knees were touching, and she pulled his manhood nearer her opening. They gazed at each other, “Shall we try it?” she asked. Caspian really wanted to but…. the decision was made for him as she tried her best to push his dick inside her, eventually managing to get the head and just a little of his shaft inside. She continued unsuccessfully to try and push more of it inside and Caspian was whimpering by now. “Oh! That feels…” she started to say but Caspian suddenly sat back, pulling out of her. “I’m scared we get caught!” he confessed. She shrugged, “You’re a big scaredy-cat!” and instead began firmly rubbing her hand up and down his dick to see what would happen. A little liquid began to leak from his tip and she stared at Caspian’s flushed face and screwed-up eyes with fascination. His own hand joined hers for a few moments, and he encouraged more speed and a firmer grip out of her before his hand fell away. A few short moments later, she found out what the result was.

Caspian gave a loud groan and grasped her arms, then she felt more wetness on her hand. She watched, mesmerised, as thick pearly white liquid shot out of his dick in several spurts, landing on her skin, glistening in the dusk light. She shocked him by leaning down to smell and taste it. Musky, salty. How strange, she thought. Caspian hurriedly wiped himself with his underwear and tucked himself back into his breeches, quickly doing up the laces, while she cleaned her hand on the fabric of her skirt and rearranged the rest of her clothing too.

They looked at each other guiltily.

“We must never speak of this,” whispered Caspian, to which she nodded. “Never, it’s our secret. Swear on it.” “I swear,” he answered, “now hurry, it’s almost dark - they’ll be looking for us soon if we’re not careful.”

He’d taken her hand and they’d run through the apple and pear trees until they reached the castle, sneaking back in, thankfully unnoticed.

═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°══ ══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°══

Caspian jolted out of his daydream. That was the only remotely sexual experience he’d had in his young life, what with having to run for his life and then fight a war. He’d never ever forget it. Nor the girl he’d shared it with.

Sighing again, he tried to ignore the erection he now had and picked up the document again, beginning to read although he couldn’t even remember where he’d got to originally.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You had purposely chosen a dress with a scooped - but not too scooped - neckline. It was all part of your plan. Caspian was almost guaranteed to visit you, he usually appeared in your study at some point every day.

There was a light tap at the door and Caspian came in, smiling at you and wishing you a good morning. Returning the greeting, you got up and went to the small table in the corner to pour some freshly-made lemonade for the two of you. Caspian was perching on the edge of your large and heavy desk which took up most of the room, his long legs apart. You carried the two glasses over to him and walked right between his legs as you offered him his.

You saw his eyes widen and immediately you moved backwards, smiling wide-eyed and innocently at him. “Did you sleep well, Caspian?” He blushed and you hid a smile. Still the same shy boy, you thought. “Uhh… no, not really. I was bothered by dreams which I couldn’t escape. So no, a restless night.”

You gave him a concerned look, “Ohh… I will have to come up with something to help you sleep well, Caspian.” His face became even redder, “I… uhhh… I… well, that would be good. What do you suggest, my lady?” You leaned forward, ostensibly to gaze into his eyes, and those eyes immediately went to your cleavage as you’d intended. Leaning back, your innocent smile in place, you pronounced, “I shall prepare some lavender extract for you, which you should sprinkle on your pillow. It will ease your mind and help you to sleep.”

Caspian took a huge gulp of his lemonade and you couldn’t help but notice how tight a certain part of his trousers had suddenly become. “That sounds most pleasant,” he choked out, “…and now I’d better go! I believe there’s a meeting I must attend.” You pouted, “Oh, such a shame. We’ve barely spoken, Caspian.” He stood up, “Yes, a great shame. We shall talk later!”

And with that, he rushed out of your study.

Sipping your lemonade, a little smile made it onto your lips. That had been… interesting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian sank down onto his knees in his private bathroom, having had to almost run there after he’d left her study. He’d ripped the lacing on his trousers open and taken himself in hand as soon as the door had closed behind him and now he groaned, looking down at the mess he’d just made.

Wearily, he got to his feet and found a linen cloth, cleaning himself up before going back into the main chamber to find fresh underwear to put on, he’d leaked into the ones he’d had on.

He gazed out of his window, thinking that he’d have to show a lot more self-control in front of her in future. He was supposed to be a King, after all. Not a horny teenage boy. But by Aslan, that’s exactly what he felt like.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#king caspian #king caspian x reader #king caspian fan fiction #king caspian imagine #king caspian fanfic #voyage of the dawn treader #ben barnes

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purrincess-chat · 3 years ago

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Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix Epilogue (FINAL)

And that's a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone that has read and supported this story! It is literally my fandom baby.

I am debating writing a sequel series that takes place between chapter 40 and the epilogue that follows Adrien's journey recovering from his childhood trauma. It would be very meta and in a way mirror the beginning of this story. It would delve deeper into how they grew up and moved on, what happened to Nathalie and Gorilla, what Adrien is doing with his life, etc. So, let me know in the comments if you'd be interested in seeing something like that. I also have a bunch of bonus stories planned, but I may wrap them into the Adrien story. Idk. Lemme know what you guys would be interested in reading.

If you're sad this fic is over, feel free to read some of my other works. I'm currently updating a story I wrote for the ML Big Bang. It's a lot of Ladrien and is also another Lila downfall story. I'm also hoping to finish up a few existing WIPs that I have lying around sometime this year. AND I'll be starting a Ladrien enemies AU this summer too! And of course, you can always reread this story whenever you'd like ;) Thanks for reading!

Previous First AO3

Epilogue: Praying

**7 years later**

“Does the Eiffel Tower look different to you?” Adrien peeked out the window of Marinette’s jet as they circled around to the airport.

She lowered her magazine, leaning over him to look out. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen it, but I think it’s still the same. It looks different when you’re not climbing it.” She shot him a smirk.

Adrien sat back with a laugh.

“I once scaled it in 4 seconds flat.” He boasted as if she’d be impressed.

“I was there when you did it, remember? You were so proud of yourself.” She brushed his nose with her finger, lifting her magazine again. “I never wanted to disappoint you, but I did it in 3 and a half once.”

“What?” He gaped as their pilot’s voice sounded over the intercom, instructing them to fasten their seatbelts and prepare for landing.

“I’ve already arranged a car to take you to your parents’ house. Tomorrow morning, you have an appearance at the De-evilize foundation, then a phone interview with Mode. At 3 o’clock you’ll meet with your friends for tea for the rest of the evening.” Danielle listed when they landed, scrolling down her tablet screen.

“Thank you, Danielle.” Marinette nodded.

Marinette was busy as usual, but Adrien knew this trip was for business—her trips usually were. This time, however, Adrien had some business of his own to attend to. It had been seven years since he’d been in Paris last, even longer since he’d seen him.

“It feels weird to be back. I guess I’ve tried not to think about Paris since we left. At least, not the bad parts anyway,” Adrien said as they paced hand-in-hand across the runway to the waiting car.

“You’re in a better place now than you were last time we were here,” Marinette said, accepting his help into the car. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Yeah…” He climbed in after her, wiping his palms on his pants with a sigh. “I’m just a little nervous I guess.”

“You don’t have to see him, you know.” Marinette pointed out, placing a hand over his. “You can sit with me while I do my interview.”

“No. I need to go. I’ll never be able to move on if I don’t.” He shook his head. When her eyebrows furrowed into a worried crease, he added, “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Okay.” She pressed her lips together. “One thing at a time. That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighed. “I’ve missed your dad’s croissants. We haven’t had them since they came over for Christmas.”

“I’m sure he’s made you plenty.” Marinette giggled, leaning against his arm.

Marinette’s parents welcomed them with open arms when they arrived. Her dad gave them both a bear hug the moment they walked in the door, and Adrien was reminded that not all of his memories of Paris were bad. There was a lot of good still left there, and it gave him the courage he needed to face what he’d been running from all these years—the past he hoped to leave behind. It was time to finally face it. To face him one last time.

“I’ll meet you after, okay?” Marinette said the next day on the curb outside their foundation headquarters—the center they’d built where his old house used to be. She stretched up to kiss him hard before he ducked into the town car and closed the door with a sigh.

Several times on the way, he debated telling the driver to turn around, but each time he quietly berated himself for chickening out. He needed to go. Seven years was a long time, and he needed to finally rid himself of the darkness that had plagued him since he was 15. He wanted to live a long and happy life with Marinette, to put the past behind him for good and close the door without ever having to worry about it again, and this was the only way to do it. So, he let the driver continue on in silence, stomach churning in nervous knots.

Security was tight, but he should have expected as much from such a high-profile prison. His father always did get the best. Adrien barely flinched during the several searches he had to undergo as they made their way deeper into the facility. He wasn’t sure what to think about or what to expect, but when his father was finally led in wearing a gaudy orange jumpsuit, Adrien couldn’t help but smirk. They stared at each other through the glass pane before picking up the phones.

“Adrien,” he said, his voice hoarse and grey eyes wide with emotion.

“Father.” Adrien nodded curtly, pressing his lips into a firm line. “Long time no see.”

“I’d given up hope that you’d ever come here. It’s good to see you… You’ve grown so much.” His father looked him over. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I’ve also been worse.” Adrien shrugged. “Marinette and I live in New York. She just finished school, so we decided to make a trip, but I didn’t come here to catch up. I have something to say, and I want you to listen.”

His father lowered his gaze with a sigh, running a hand over his stubble and nodding.

“I’ve been angry with you for a long time. What you did was despicable and horrible, and somedays I still can’t believe it’s real.” Adrien twirled the phone cord around his fingers as he spoke, squeezing until his fingers turned purple. “All I ever wanted was for you to be there for me. To come to my fencing tournaments or even just have a meal with me more than once a month. I was willing to be patient with you for being busy with your work, but little did I know what kind of work you were actually doing.”

He flicked his gaze back up to his father who swallowed hard. “I should hate you, and maybe in some ways I do, but that’s not what I came here to say to you today.”

“Adrien-”

“I forgive you,” Adrien said. “I forgive you, Father.”

His father’s jaw dropped, lip quivering as tears welled in his eyes. His face fell into his hand, and Adrien sat back, running a hand over his face and tapping his foot.

“I don’t want you to be mistaken and think that this means I want you to be part of my life.” He continued. “This will probably be the last time we see each other. I’m going to ask Marinette to marry me, and when we have kids, your grandchildren, I don’t ever want you to meet them. I don’t want them to have a relationship with you. I never want you to be part of their lives, and I will work hard every day of my life to give them what I never had: a real father.”

“I suppose that’s what I deserve after everything.” Gabriel nodded, rubbing his cheek. “I’ve often debated what I would say to you if you ever came, but now I can’t seem to find the words, so I’ll just say this: I have always loved you, and I am sorry.”

Adrien held his gaze for a long moment, biting his lip. He placed the phone back on the receiver and stood up, following the guard back through the door. He never looked back.

♪♫♪ long story short ♪♫♪

“About time you showed up.” Chloe looked Marinette over, cocking a hip before a smile curled on her lips. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You can’t show up anywhere on time if your life depended on it. You’re lucky I expected as much and told the press to be here an hour after I told you to show up.”

“Sorry, Adrien’s going to see he-who-shall-not-be-named today. I’m just worried,” Marinette said.

“He’ll be fine. Adrikins is tougher than he looks. He can thank me for that.” Chloe flipped her short, curly hair. “Seriously, don’t worry. He can do this.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Marinette lowered her gaze. “He’s just worked so hard. I’d hate for anything to ruin that.”

“Even if seeing his dad messes him up, he’ll just come crawling back to you to kiss his booboos and make him feel better. Relax.” Chloe rolled her eyes, turning on one heel and beckoning Marinette to follow. “Come on. The press shoot will be in here.”

Marinette took a deep breath and scurried after her. Familiar bouncy red curls were adjusting the microphones when they entered, and Marinette smiled, rushing over to hug her.

“What did I tell you about hugs?” Gabrielle sighed but patted Marinette’s back, nonetheless. “Good to see you in Paris again. How long are you here for?”

“Just a few days. We’re opening a boutique in Milan next weekend, so we’ll be flying out to oversee the preparations soon,” Marinette said.

“Where does she get all the energy?” Gabrielle asked Chloe with a smirk. “I swear, she runs on batteries.”

“Marinette has always been annoyingly perky and full of energy. I get tired just looking at her.” Chloe yawned. “I suppose you’re going to need a couple models for your boutique launch?”

“Well, I did bring some dress samples. If you two aren’t too busy,” Marinette said.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “We work for you, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but if you were busy, I could always call up Clara or Macy and-”

“Oh, no, Chloe. She’s offering to take us to Milan. How horrible.” Gabrielle moaned.

“Ugh, and she wants us to model in front of thousands of adoring fans and photographers? What are we, her workhorses?” Chloe scoffed.

“Ha ha, I get it.” Marinette smiled. “Thanks, girls.”

“If we’re offering up free trips to Milan, is there any way a star reporter could jump on that plane?” A smile spread on Alya’s lips in the doorway, and she cocked a hip. “These networks just do not compensate cross-country travel as well as you’d think.”

“What are you doing here already? Press isn’t supposed to be here for another twenty minutes.” Marinette crossed the room to hug her neck.

“Well, it’s easy to sneak in when you volunteer in your downtime. I kind of know all the security codes.” Alya winked. “I heard the whirlwind herself was going to be here, so I had to see it with my own eyes.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been back in Paris. Unfortunately, I won’t be staying long, but I do accommodate my friends well on my trips, if you want to do a report on Milan.” Marinette offered.

“Does your jet still come stocked with those sodas from China?” Alya quirked a brow.

“Of course.”

“Yeah, I think I can squeeze it in.” She smirked. “Mind if I bring along a plus one? Nino complains every day about not seeing Adrien since we visited New York last.”

“He might have to ride in the cargo bay, but I’m sure we can squeeze him in.”

“Reporters are lining up outside.” Danielle announced.

“Guess it’s showtime.” Marinette hugged Alya’s neck one last time. “See you out there.”

“Knock ‘em dead, girl.”

♪♫♪ no tears left to cry ♪♫♪

“Marinette!” Macy squealed, racing to hug her as she and Adrien stepped out of the town car. “Oh, last time I saw you was at Eliott and Lisette’s wedding in London. It’s been so long since you’ve visited us in Paris.”

“It’s been a while, but I knew it was in safe hands.” Marinette leaned against her shoulder as Eliott descended the front steps and held out his arms.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show her face in Paris again.” He teased, kissing both of her cheeks. “Good to see you.”

“You too! Nice scarf, by the way.” Marinette traced her thumb over her brand logo with a smirk.

“I only wear the best.” Eliott shrugged. “Your color palette is stunning this year, no surprise.”

“Thanks.” She giggled, exchanging quick hugs with Lisette and Martin while Macy and Eliott traded off with Adrien.

“Well, we’re not going to stand out here all day. Come inside.” Macy gestured them up the stairs. “Martin and I imported our favorite tea, and we picked up some madeleines from the best bakery in town.” She winked at Marinette as they walked to the sitting room where her butler stood beside a fancy cart.

“So, how are things in New York? It’s been a couple weeks since we spoke last,” Lisette asked as they settled in.

“Great! I just finished with school, we’re opening a store in Milan, and I have a branding campaign coming up in a few weeks. I’ll be traveling around a lot for the next year while Adrien finishes up school, but we’ve actually talked about settling back here in Paris once it’s over,” Marinette said. “How are things here? I’ve heard album sales are going well, and Eliott is playing the lead role in an upcoming show. Oh, and congrats on the engagement!”

“Thanks.” Martin’s cheeks flushed as Macy flashed the ring.

“Are you going to design the dress, Marinette?” Lisette asked.

Marinette sipped her tea to hide her smirk. “Oh, I’ve already designed the entire bridal party,” she said nonchalantly. “We can look at that later.”

“I asked her as soon as Martin proposed. There isn’t anyone else in the world that I trust to design for me,” Macy said. “It also helps when your sister-in-law is a makeup artist.”

Lisette flashed her a grin.

“When is the wedding? Have you decided yet?” Adrien asked.

Macy shook her head. “We haven’t picked a date yet, but we’re hoping to do it before Martin applies to law school.”

“Well, I’ll get everyone’s measurements before I leave today. When you decide on the designs you like I’ll get started on them when I get back to New York,” Marinette said.

“Speaking of weddings, I’m surprised you two haven’t tied the knot yet.” Lisette smirked.

Marinette shot Adrien a smile. “We’ve talked about it, but we’ve both been in school, I’ve been traveling a lot, and we wanted to make sure that Adrien was okay after everything.”

“We’ll make plans soon.” Adrien winked.

“Well, Alya and I have already planned your bachelorette party, so just be prepared,” Macy said.

“Why does that make me worry?” Marinette laughed.

Macy shot her a wink before her face softened. “It’s really good to see you both again for something that isn’t related to a charity or an event,” she said. “We’ll have to get together more when you two move back here.”

“We will, definitely.” Marinette promised, giving her hands a squeeze.

They caught up and prattled on about Macy’s new album, work they’d done with their charities, Adrien’s psychology classes. It was nice to catch up with friends again without an ulterior motive, like Macy said. Adrien was quiet for most of the afternoon, which Marinette expected. What she wasn’t expecting was when he requested they stop somewhere special on the way home.

“Where are we going?” Marinette asked as he took her hand and led her up the strip toward the Trocadero.

“You’ll see.” He took a few more steps, turning to face the Eiffel Tower and adjusting her accordingly. “Right here.”

“Right here?” She quirked a brow, glancing down at their feet.

“Right here.” He nodded. “This is the spot where I was standing when I fell head-over-heels in love with you all those years ago. We were fighting Stoneheart, and you vowed to protect Paris no matter what, and it was the moment when you stole my heart and ran away with it.”

Marinette bit back a smile as he continued.

“I made my own vow that day that no matter who was under the mask, I was going to love you for the rest of my life.” He reached into his pocket, dropping down on one knee. “And I intend to keep that promise. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my Ladybug, will you marry me?”

She cupped her hands over her mouth, eyes watering. “Of course, chaton.”

Adrien stood up to meet her lips, their smiles and laughter breaking each kiss. Not everything in their life had gone the way they’d pictured it, but in the end they’d overcome every obstacle thrown their way. Akumas, broken friendships, fame, Lila, Hawkmoth, the weight of Gabriel’s sins. It was the two of them against the world—as always—and they’d come out the other end stronger. No matter where they went in life, everything would work out so long as they had each other.

Fin

#mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

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meenah-chan · 3 years ago

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Safe Haven ~Epilogue~

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Trigger warning: None

Requested by: @romaissa Thank you for waiting for this. I apologize for the wait. This turns out the way as I imagined it to be, more or less. I felt so fluffy as I edited this for the last time. I hope you'll like this last part. Enjoy~~ 😚✨💖💖💖

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: angst

Trigger warning: None

It was the same cliff… trees and breeze... The same dusk… But the voice calling them were not anymore...

… sensitive yet capable... One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, the sky enveloping the Devildom is dark. Very unlike that place. A place where the sun would shine so brightly even from the back of their mind. Not the human world where they grew up. Not the Celestial realm they visited once. It was only the Devildom whose light came from the moon and not the sun. Should the moon doesn’t exist in this kingdom, it’ll surely be pitch black.

Yet, in the dimness of the kingdom they’ve suddenly been to... Who would have thought I would meet my sun in such a place? A smile formed on their face as they delved deeper in their thoughts.

As they did so, a strong wind blew past them. It was strong, they didn’t notice someone approaching them.

“Oh!” a pat on their shoulder snapped them back from their deep thoughts.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” They flit their head behind and meet with the same, familiar eyes.

“Lord Diavolo... Nothing. And Queen Rose? Did something happen?” Their surprised demeanor was replaced with a confused one. Why wouldn’t it? Since unless some responsibility on the Kingdom required to, the royal couple is technically attached at the hip. Which is still pretty rare.

“Stop with those formalities. You’re making me sad.” As if he were not such a tall, well-built demon, Diavolo looks at them like a weeping dog.

“Alright, I’m just teasing you... So, what happened?”

“Rose got angry over one of my posts on Devilgram.” His pout becomes more obvious as he complains to them like a child.

“Oh, that picture.” Diavolo didn’t have to elaborate further for them to guess which one it is. It was a picture of Diavolo pecking the Queen on her cheek on their bed chamber.

“Even if I were her, I would be mad. You’re the rulers of Devildom after all. You can’t afford showing any vulnerability to your people.”

“But love is our strength!” He emphasized the last word with his hand gesture and furrowed brows.

Which only received a giggle from the human. “You sound like those princesses in the movie we watched yesterday.”

“Hey, I’m being serious… Since when did you take her side anyway?”

“I’m just speaking with reason.”

“You’re so harsh these days. Where is the angel I knew? Barbatos is rubbing on you a bit too much.”

“I won’t be if you were a bit more reasonable. And remember, Simeon can be scary too sometimes.”

Diavolo paused for a moment to think. “Right.” And let out a sigh. “Why can't I win a debate with you? I'm the King, you know.”

“Then be glad I'm an ally.”

“But Y/N...” Diavolo stared at them for a moment. “I noticed you're becoming more beautiful. More than ever.”

“...Where’s Queen Rose? She needs to know the king’s flirting with his ex—”

“Hey, I don't mean it! I mean, not that way! You're beautiful as a friend.”

“Beautiful more than ever as a friend, yes?”

“I mean it with pure intention! And Rose is the most beautiful! You know that!”

“Most beautiful. Favorite line, huh…” They sassily fiddled with their nails as they stared at it.

“Let's settle this here? I-I'll even grant you a wish.”

They glanced at him from their nails and stared at him. “Pfft— Hahaha!! I'm kidding, I’m kidding, pfft— hahaha! You should have seen your face, hahaha!”

“Are you messing with me again?” He frowned at them.

“I was but, hey. A wish from the King is rather enticing.”

Looking straight in their eyes, “Are you still mad because of our past?” he asked. As if he's been holding this question back for so long. In guilt of what they have been through because of him.

And with a smile, they replied “No.”

It was the truth.

They could never hold anything against Diavolo. They can never hate the man they fell in love with…

“Your face is just so hilarious I can't help it.” Rather, they wanted to see that expression one last time. That expression I adored way too much, as I fell beside the cliff.

“Since when did you become so fickle?” Yet despite his words, a sense of relief emanates from the Royal Demon.

He is now certain. He is finally free from the shackles he created himself. And they...

“Spare Barbatos some slack. Some regular day offs will do too and you’ll be absolved of your offense.” Without Diavolo being able to snap a last glance on their face, they turned their back to him and started walking. Despite it, a smile formed on his face.

“Consider it done...” He said as they wave as a response before disappearing from his sight.

I see you’re finally free from my curse... Diavolo chuckled as he left to return to his queen, ready to ask for another forgiveness.

---------

“Y/N.” It was the same cliff. The same trees and breeze. The same dusk who witnessed everything. But the voice calling them were not the prince’s anymore.

“Barbatos, you’re early.”

“I apologize for always making you wait for me but,” worry was showing on his face as he looked at them. “...do you always wait here this early?”

“Don’t mind it. I love waiting for you.” Barbatos’ heart skipped a beat from their words, a tint of pink forming on both person’s ear tips.

“A-Ah, right. You didn’t tell me you'll plant some flowers here.” They touched the petals of the Forget-me-not flowers as if to avert the butler’s attention.

It was as healthy as the one they took care of or perhaps even healthier.

“Were they not to your liking?”

“No, I… love them.”

“Then I'd be glad if that were the case. I raised them with the thoughts of you after all.” Even though Barbatos’ remarks were always like that, they couldn’t help but feel bashful everytime.

“Seriously, how can you say some cheesy lines so smoothly?”

“Hmm? I don’t recall saying such things.” He lifted a knuckle under his chin while glancing upward as if in thoughts.

“This guy..!” All they could do is shut up and frown. They couldn’t remember a time where they actually won on Barbatos’ wordplays.

“Is there something that displeases my flower?” Barbatos moved towards them when the frown they wore turned into a sad smile when they glanced again at the blue flowers.

“Well...” they sighed, Barbatos now stepping in to caress their face. “I just remembered the poor flowers I destroyed that day. I cared for them for a long time only to die from my own hands.”

Barbatos brushed his thumb to their cheek, fondness reflected in his eyes. “But they didn’t.” It was still like a dream for him to be able to hold them freely as he wished.

“What do you mean? Of course they will. I pulled them all off the ground myself.”

“Would you believe me if I said this plant was your flower’s seedlings and roots?”

“Y-You mean..!?” The human’s eyes snapped back to the Forget-me-nots. That’s probably why the flowers have the exact same shade and size as back then.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.” He let them go to squat and check the flowers closely.

It took a while as they observed and admired the lush flowers. It was a comfortable silence, as Barbatos watched his favorite bud.

“Hey Barbatos.” Finally satisfied from staring at it, they rose on their feet. “I had some silly idle thoughts a while ago.”

“What is it?” He asked. But unlike them, the demon butler’s eyes never left his favorite flower. He could spend another millenia just gazing at them, and still say it’s the best sight he's ever seen.

“Devildom is a dark place no matter how I try to think of it.” He watch their back across the nightfall. The way the cold breeze brush through their locks. Those subtle shivers they give off as chills bites at their sensitive yet capable arms. One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

“Then how come of all places, I’ll meet my sun there?” He tread beside them, not minding their words.

Not even the fondness in Barbatos’ eyes yields. Not in the slightest.

He knew. It was Diavolo. It will always be his Young Master. “He was so bright. So dazzling yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Diavolo will always be my sun.” And he… He already accepted this fact a long time ago. Staying by their side, until they found their happiness, is more than enough for him.

So instead of reacting, he removed his coat and placed it over their shoulder.

“I won’t forget. I will cherish the memories he left, no matter how painful it is. After all, he and the memories,” but they were thinking differently from Barbatos. They spun on their feet, suddenly facing him, who was just a few inches away from them, “...they all led me to my moon.” Their eyes were glistening, with him reflected in it. It took his breath– his words away.

“Shining through my darkest nights. Cradling me with its gentle light. Brushing off the tears from my eyes. My precious moon, who helped me remember that there’s still happiness beyond my sorrow.” They reached for his face. “Nights were supposed to be cold, yet he brings warmth instead. And you know what’s the most amusing thing?”

“In Devildom, whether it is day or night, you can see the moon in its brightest.” He never wants to assume anything, yet the way their thumb runs across his cheek so tenderly… The hope he hid with all his might, surges out wanting to be freed.

“Oh, but there is just one problem with my moon. He was so selfless, he wouldn't take me to himself.” The hand next to his cheek moved and brushed to the tip of his nose.

“Pardon?” He thought he finally sealed it away so perfectly, so why… With just a single touch…?

“I don’t wanna be single forever yet he keeps on ignoring my signs...”

“Wait, you mean…” But his promise… his vow to them...

“I still can’t say I don’t have any more feelings with Diavolo but I swear, I mean it. That’s why I’m already taking this to my hands… Hey–!” The knot within Barbatos’ heart came undone, along with the stream of tears he’s holding back due to their dreamlike words.

“Barbatos. Hey, don’t cry.”

They tried scooping his face with both hands only to stop by his own.“I’m so happy.” He placed one of their hands on his chest. It was warm, with his heart practically drumming crazily fast.

He never knew it’s possible to feel happier than the day they allowed him by their side. Incomparably so. It was at that moment he felt so… alive.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.”

“This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my life.” He pulled their other hand and placed a tender kiss on its palm.

“I wonder if I can surpass this next time.”

“Then how about a kiss? Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” They took another step towards him, “I love you, my Luna.”

“I love you more, my Flora.” Barbatos sewed the space between them and soon, two breaths became one. All the words dissolved between their lips. Yet, all the emotions bottled up within poured out.

Of loneliness. Of longing. Of elation. Of attachment and inclination. With a spice of passion and devotion. All swirling together, filling the gaps in their hearts.

They parted just to converge again, like how their threads of fate crossed, unraveled and intertwined together.

The coldness of the night now utterly nonexistent within their moment, as they were embraced by the vivid rays of moonlight.

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

#I love how this and the whole series turned out :">💖💖💖#Also have another WIP I'll finish after this so stay tuned~~ 😚💖#obey me fanfic #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #barbatos angst #obey me diavolo #obey me mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #om!#obey me swd #obey me masters #obey me boys #meenah-chan's babey fics~~#meenah-chan~~

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nepenthendline · 4 years ago

Text

Gentle Loving - Tendou

A little N*FW at the end but mainly fluffy this is purely a self-indulgent fic of sucking tendou’s dick for the first time, featuring somewhat a bodyworship kink aka I want tendou to be loved, also kind of a smut alternative to insecurity i guess? It’s in the same setting and about the same stuff so you can read it as a part two or an alternative lol this also goes along with my mental health headcanons for tendou but I’ll keep it pretty vague

this is pretty damn long btw (2.5k words), I have a lot of tendou feelings ok

Tagging @togasknifes bc she had to sit through me complaining about this, and @pudding-head-kenma bc mingi

TW: very very slight, brief hint at self-harm scarring

The two of you had been cuddling in bed watching anime for the last couple hours; it was one of your favourite ways to spend time together while indulging in your hobby. You were tucked in his side with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and his around you. Every now and then, between comments of the action on the screen, he would lean down and brush kisses on the top of your head. His fingers grazed up and down your arm, setting your skin alight with his warmth. Even after months of being together his touch still managed to provoke the butterflies in your stomach, yet make you feel so calm and safe.

Your turned your head from his chest to look up at him. His wide, glowing eyes were entranced by the flashing of the screen, and his jawline seemed so chiselled from the shadow. The red hair that he shaved off a couple weeks ago had started to grow back in small, fuzzy waves that contrasted his smooth, pale skin. His pink lips were parted slightly and curled up in an anticipating smile; sometimes they even moved along with the words of the characters that he had heard so many times before. You’ve always thought of him as handsome, but right now, he really was the most beautiful sight in the world.

You leaned up from his grasp to plant a gentle kiss on the edge of his jaw, just like you had done many times before. His eyes trailed over to meet yours and gave you a sweet grin, then turning back to his laptop in front of him. Your gaze didn’t move though, as you tucked your head into his neck and placed tentative kisses along the skin, trailing from just below his ear to his collarbone. Your actions didn’t have much intention behind them besides enjoying the feeling of his burning skin against your lips, and his pulse that shook under your touch. As you were about to raise your head to repeat your actions, Tendou’s mouth had captured yours.

After a few first gentle kisses, you placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, giving you permission to deepen your movements. With each kiss, your nose bumped against his, and his grip on your waist got tighter. This certainly wasn’t the first time the two of you had lost yourself in each other’s affection this way, but you had never progressed further. Whenever things seemed to get a little more heated, one of you would pull away and put out the flame to relight another day.

But there was something in you this time that wanted more. The way that his fingers dug into your hips, how his hair felt so soft in your touch, and how his eyes looked extraordinarily intense. You wanted to pour your love onto him, make him feel all the admiration and desire you felt for him.

Shuffling the laptop away with your hand, you moved your leg over to be seated on his lap. He didn’t seem to refuse your action in any way, so with both hands on either side of his face, you delved back in to the kiss. One of his hands had found its way into your hair, tugging it ever-so-slightly to keep your head close to his. You were both becoming breathless, but you’d rather suffocate in his love than stop.

One hand of yours moved to his hip, pushing his shirt upwards and stroking the skin under. He shuddered a little, either out of surprise or nervousness, but he didn’t stop you. Shuffling the shirt up even higher, your hand made it way to his exposed abdomen. Since you had started your journey up his body, his kisses had lost sync with yours; the steady tempo the two of you had created was gone, and he let out shaky breaths between each attempt. As your hand had moved slightly closer towards his chest, he swiftly moved to grab your wrist, stopping it.

“I-I’m sorry, did I go too far? We can stop if you want,” you stuttered, pulling back from him. He stared at you with a complex look, as if he was debating with himself.

“No, don’t be sorry. That was my fault. I...” his eyes didn’t meet yours as he spoke. You could tell he had more to say, but he appeared to be struggling with the words.

“What’s on your mind? You can talk to me, it’s ok,” you whispered to him, stroking his cheek with the hand that still rested there.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine,” he rushed out, spreading a fake wide smile on his face. He made a move to sit up further, but you stopped him, giving him a look that he knew he couldn’t escape this one like he had tried each time in the past. His gaze filtered through various points in the room but never once on you, thinking over the rush of thoughts in his head.

He let out an exasperated sigh and let his head fall back against his headboard, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I just...,” he sighed again and threw his arms over his eyes to cover his face from your concerned gaze, “fuck, I just don’t want you to take my clothes off and not like what you see,” he spoke fast, as if it would stop you from hearing his vulnerability. You sat still, quiet for a moment as you processed what he said.

“I would never not like how you look, Satori,” you murmured, somewhat to yourself in confusion. “I think your beautiful, and I might not have ever seen you with your shirt off but I’ve kinda already got the gist of what you look like. I chose you, and love you knowing what you look like, and I love it Satori, I do.” you stroked the back of his arms that covered his face in an attempt to soothe him. Honestly, you were just as nervous as him, but you put on a brave face to guide him through this like he always did for you. “I want to show you how perfect you are to me, if you’ll let me?”

Slowly, his arms lifted away from his face and rested by his side; his fingers reaching your thighs and lightly brushed over them. When he didn’t respond, you leaned in again and, delicately, placed a kiss on him. As you pulled away, he bit his lip and nodded. You confirmed with him that you could continue, then kissed him again, before laying him down so he was flat on the bed.

“Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok? We don’t go too far, I promise,” you kissed him once more, before tucking your head down to place kisses along his collarbones to distract him a little as you started to pull his shirt up from the bottom. He, shakily, helped you take it off and laid back down on the bed, clenching his eyes shut once more.

While he wasn’t as active as he used to be in high school, you could still see how years worth of training had moulded his body. He wasn’t ripped or buff by any means, but his shoulders were broad and his arms looked strong; they tensed and relaxed as his fingers fiddled with the duvet under him to calm himself. You placed a hand on his chest and felt as it shifted with every breathe of his. You had spent so much time resting your head on this part of his body, so it already took up a lot of room in your thoughts. His skin was soft and hot as your hand trailed down to his stomach. You leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to the left side of his chest below his collarbones, and slowly, dragged your lips across his torso. One of your hands moved across the bed to find his, and gripped it tightly as your mouth explored his body. He let out deep breath, quivering breaths with each touch, but he slowly relaxed under you. His eyelids remained closed, but their grip softened and the muscles in his face went slack.

“I love you,”

Your mouth worked further down his body, tasting at the skin just above the beginning of his jeans. Moving across, you nipped at his prominent hips, making his jump slightly.

“Sorry,” you giggled at his reaction, stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

“No, no, that was nice, you can carry on, please,” he seemed to be a little amused himself by his reaction, smiling along with you for the first time in a while. Your free hand reached up to find the button of his jeans.

“Can I?” he nodded at your question, so you steadily began to undo his jeans and pull them off his body. Before you could pull them any lower than the tops of his thighs, his hand came to stop you once more, but his grip was gentler, more relaxed than last time.

“You’re gonna see some things but we can talk about it later, just...ignore it for now,” he mumbled, letting go of your hand so you could continue. You didn’t know what he was hinting at, but you didn’t push further. With his help, you pulled off his jeans and let them fall on the floor beside the bed.

You were familiar with his long legs from the lower thigh downwards due to seeing him often in his volleyball uniform during school, but you still took the time to run your fingers down them, massaging them slightly and feeling his muscles flex under them.

“You’re so pretty, Satori,” you said as you leaned down to, once again, trail your kisses up his legs. “You’re doing so well baby.”

His breath trembled more the closer you go to the tops of his thighs, in a mix of pleasure and restlessness. With his free hand now stroking over your hair, he took in all the senses you gave; the warm, wet feeling on your lips on his body, the heat from your scalp in his hand and the smell of your lotion that he was so familiar with. He was so nervous, but his body couldn’t help but fall into your touch,

“I’m going to fall asleep at this rate,” he chuckled in a low voice. You apologised for your slow movements, but he rejected your words, “this is the best day of my life, I don’t know what your apologising for,” his voice was light with laughter, setting a smile on your face too. He had settled down in your motions, so you took this chance to slowly pull his boxers down his legs, letting them meet his jeans on the floor.

You didn’t move for a few moments as you took in the sight of his, now, naked frame. You attention was drawn to his half-hard cock that lay on low on his stomach, and how the tip was the prettiest pink that complimented his complexion. Your eyes drifted over to the areas of his hips and tops of his thighs that were once covered by his underwear. You fingers moved hesitantly to skim the scars that littered his pale skin; they all seemed particularly old, although some were darker and larger than others. Moving down, you kissed each mark without hurry, moving inwards closer and closer to his crotch. You looked up at him to check on his expression; his eyes will still closed but his lips were parted slightly, damp from running his tongue over them.

You placed one, testing kiss on the base of his cock as he let out a deep sigh. Enjoying his reaction, you left warm, open-mouthed kisses to the tip. As you pulled back slightly, you noticed how much harder his dick had gotten through your actions. Wrapping your hand around the base, you noticed how your fingers barely found their way around it, and how your hand felt so small compared to him. You gripped his length a little harder, receiving a quiet, raspy moan. With the moisture from your previous exploration, you easily moved your hand up and down his member; each breath of Tendou’s released with a whine as his head tiled back further.

Taking it one step further, you lifted his cock, fitting your mouth over the tip and slowly sunk down on him. The hand that had been in your hair was now gripping tightly, almost to the point of pain. His mouth was wide open, letting a strained groan leave his throat. You hollowed out your cheeks and continued, moving up and down at a steady pace.

The muscles in his stomach began to tense as you worked him; his body quivering in the pleasure. Your free hand came to rest on his stomach, stroking the skin to settle him down. He had never felt anything like this before. All he could do was focus on the way your head moved and how hot you felt around him. He felt overwhelmed in the best way possible - the closest he had ever felt to this before was a panic attack, but this feeling was much more soothing, warming and addicting. His eyes started to let little tears run down his cheeks as he reached his high; his back arching off the bed slightly and his hips rutting into your mouth. He wanted to warn you but he couldn’t seem to form any words in this moment.

With a loud, strangled moan he finished in your throat. You did your best to take all of his release, which was a little difficult due to the suddenness, but you dragged out his high with slow movements. He pulled slightly on the back of your head as a sign that he was finished so you lifted off of him and crawled up to meet his face, sitting above his stomach. Your hand brushed the tears away that stuck to his cheeks as you checked over him. His eyes were lidded in a sleepy manner and he wore a little smile. You bend down to press kisses over his face, beginning at his forehead, then his cheeks, moving to his nose and finally his lips. Resting your forehead on his, you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“You did so well, my love, I’m proud of you,” you praised in a soft, quiet tone. He chuckled in response,

“I didn’t do anything, but thank you.” With one final kiss, you lifted your body off of his, laying back on the bed with your body leaning on the headboard. You opened your arms for him, and he rolled over to bury his face in your neck; his long arms wrapped around you as you held him.

“I love you, every part of you,” you whispered into his hair.

“I love you too. Thank you.”

#IT TOOK ME LIKE 3 HOURS TO WRITE THIS DONT LET IT FLOP YALL #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #tendou satori #haikyū!!#Haikyuu smut #tendou x reader #Tendou satori x reader #Tendou smut

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bowie-boy · 4 years ago

Note

Favorite LGBT+ headcanons for X-Files characters? Mine is that pretty much every main F.B.I. agent(including Krycek) is either bisexual or asexual(or both)! :)

This has been in my inbox for months and I keep forgetting about it I’m so sorry but TODAY IS THE DAY!!!! Happy TDOV Fox and @himbo-mulder (this is my response to your ask too)

LGBTQ X-Files Headcanons Because Someone Asked

Fox Mulder:

Bi and trans icon

The first person he told was Samantha

She accepted him immediately as her big brother and told him he should name himself Fox (it was her favorite animal at the time)

He was going to make his name William Mulder Jr. up until she disappeared, in which he actually decided to make his first name Fox (he misses her 🥺)

Came out to his parents sometime in high school, both took it badly

Bill was hella transphobic—he was already pretty shitty to Mulder but this added a whole new layer to it

Teena was more passive aggressive about it but still made withering comments about how she “lost two daughters now”

Some high school friends (*chants* PHOEBE AND GIMBLE PHOEBE AND GIMBLE) helped Mulder start T and change his legal name on government documents before he left for Oxford

Mulder wanted to go stealth while he was there but came out to Phoebe

When they broke up, she outed him to everyone

Things got so bad that he almost dropped out

Mulder joined the FBI, excited at the prospect of knowing no one and being able to go exclusively by his last name

He was somewhat happy of his solitude in the basement—no one really looked into him past his spooky nature, so no one could find out he was trans

Since Samantha, Scully was the first person who was truly accepting of who he really was

Got top surgery sometime before Colony

Definitely fell in love with Scully right after reading her profile skrjnwkdjwka

Mulder and Krycek were definitely an item for a hot sec until Krycek went evil

Mulder is 500% faithful to Scully but kinda had a crush on Doggett for a little bit

Mulder just wants to be a better dad than Bill 🥺🥺🥺

Mulder helped Byers realize he was trans!!! More on that later though

Dana Scully:

A bi queen

Definitely experimented in college and had a couple girlfriends there and through med school

Ending up breaking up with a girl she was really close with because Scully’s job was just putting too much strain on their relationship

It was really hard on her and made her swear off serious relationships for a long time

She thought Mulder was adorable from the moment she saw him but was really scared of actually developing feelings for him so she pushed it down

And kept pushing it down until she finally realized Mulder was never going to hurt her and actually let him in

I’m just ranting about MSR now oops

100% faithful to Mulder but thought Reyes was super hot

Scully is just a distinguished bi idk what else to say

Walter Skinner:

You can’t adopt THAT MANY LGBT agents if you’re not LGBT yourself, right?

Definitely bisexual

Grew up in a really conservative family and didn’t even consider it an option until he moved out

Skinner was attracted to a lot of guys in his squad in Vietnam but he thought it was just because there were no women around

(Spoiler alert: it wasn’t)

Skinner fell in love with John “Kitten” James and he fell hard

Absolutely did everything possible to protect that man

He was terrified of his feelings though and pushed them down, eventually starting to resent his best friend for making him feel things he couldn’t understand

When Kitten got infected by that gas, Skinner put his values over the man he loved, not just because he thought it was the right thing to do, but because he was terrified that he might be bi

He has regretted it ever since

Married his wife after the war and had a pretty good relationship until he became too consumed with his work

Their breakup was really hard on him and he delved even more into his work

Sometime after Avatar (maybe by season 5 or 6), Skinner meets a really lovely man and that man becomes his boyfriend

It’s really hard at first, but the guy helps Skinner to open up and allow himself to be okay with who he really is

They make time for each other outside of work and are really happy together!

Skinner’s boyfriend is 100% okay with the fact that Skinner has basically adopted all these agents

Skinner is everyone’s dad!!! No exceptions

John Byers:

Trans man!!!!

Discovered it pretty late in life, like he knew earlier but he Repressed it

First person he ever came out to was Mulder (as in my fic 😌)

Lots of internalized transphobia in this man but Mulder and the Lone Gunmen really helped him break out of that

Langly and Frohike obviously went with him to get his first T shot and chanted “MAN JUICE” while it happened (scaring a lot of the nurses)

Met Susanne before he transitioned so seeing her again in Three of a Kind was a little terrifying for him

She accepts him though and is a bi icon herself

Byers wears suits so much because they make him feel really validated

Ringo Langly:

Non-binary and gay!! Langly uses any pronouns (gonna stick to he/him for this list to keep things simple though)

Grew up pretty unaware about gender as a whole, just living his life

Moving away from home to a city was huge for him, he started going to gay bars and really realized that he was gay

Eventually started to experiment with his gender, using different pronouns etc., and found out he was non-binary!

Came out to Frohike shortly after learning Frohike was bi (more on that later)

Goes by Ringo because it’s somewhat gender neutral

He isn’t dysphoric very often but when he is it’s very hard for him to cope, Byers and Frohike are always there to support him and help however possible though

Langly gets way more dates than Frohike and loves to brag about it

Melvin Frohike:

We stan one funky little bi king

HE WAS AT STONEWALL I’LL DIE ON THIS HILL

Frohike had a mega crush on Mulder when he first met him and it persisted all the way until he met Scully

And then when he met Doggett he crushed on him too

Frohike is just kind of a hopeless romantic okay I love him

Absolutely bonds with Scully and they always debate which celebrity is hotter while they get more and more drunk

John Doggett

GAY MAN

Doggett was really repressed for a lot of his life, not because he thought his family would hate him for being gay but mostly because of his environment

(He was a drama kid though)

The military REALLY repressed him and thoroughly fucked him up

It wasn’t until he met Reyes that he started to accept himself more

At first Reyes being a lesbian totally freaked him out and he was really upset, leading to a huge strain on their friendship, but one night he broke down and told her he was pretty sure he was gay

Reyes really helped him through everything, especially his divorce from his wife and the loss of his son

Doggett eventually came out to his dad, who was super accepting

It took Doggett a long time to be comfortable enough to date but he started and met a really great guy, one who he’s now married to

One day he mentioned his boyfriend in passing and the rest of the Spooky Squad totally flipped out because they had no idea he was gay

Doggett just straight-faced “I didn’t think it was relevant?”

Sings musical theater songs in the office when no one else is there

Monica Reyes:

A lesbian

There isn’t a straight bone in her body have you SEEN her???

Absolutely crushed on Scully for the longest time at first, totally backed off when she realized she was involved with Mulder

Total mlm/wlw solidarity with Doggett

Reyes is super comfortable with her sexuality

I’m convinced that she’s married and she and her wife live in the same neighborhood as Doggett and his husband

Running out of brain power at this point but I just love her so much??? Mwah

Alex Krycek:

Gay rat

Everything he did against Mulder and Scully was fueled by spite at his ex-boyfriend Mulder

Daddy issues

Sometimes he breaks into TLG’s base and vibes with them for a few days

Rat (affectionate)

Deep Throat:

Gay :)

Bonus: Melissa Scully is a trans lesbian and Samantha Mulder is bisexual and they’re dating

#jack’s posts #the x files #txf #x files #fox mulder #trans fox mulder #bi fox mulder #dana scully #walter skinner #alex krycek #john byers #ringo langly #richard langly #melvin frohike #john doggett #monica reyes #melissa scully #samantha mulder #long post

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

Not sure how I feel about anon bringing Yang not showing Salem empathy in that moment as a bad thing. Like if an immortal witch was trying to murder/kill all of my friends my reaction probably wouldn't be "how do you feel though"

That's been my response too, anon, though I understand where the previous anon is coming from. Though Salem started out as a generic Big Bad with no redeemable qualities, Volume 6 showed us a captive woman who was later tortured by the gods and sought death, only to find herself changed instead, thereby raising the question for the audience, "How much of the Big Bad's action is Salem and how much of it is the evil grimm magic acting upon her?" Just as important, Volume 8 gave us Cinder's backstory and a scene of her crying on the rooftop, alongside the forgiveness of Emerald and Hazel. I could go on another rant about how this sympathy didn't extent to Ironwood and, in a different way, didn't extend to Ozpin either, but outside of that there's been a very strong message of, "Abuse victims and people who have just generally suffered - lost a sister, lived on the streets - should be shown compassion and given a second chance," which becomes a problem when we consider that the most prominent villain with an abusive backstory since Volume 6 has not been extended that compassion. Gender dynamics aside, it's the same problem fans have with Adam's ending considering that his brand was revealed right before he died. The go-to explanations of, "But Adam was his own abuser who stalked Blake" and "Salem is literally trying to destroy the world" fall a little flat when pit against "But it's okay for Emerald to manipulate Pyrrha into killing Penny?" and "Hazel has also knowingly helped Salem try to take over the world. And also murdered countless huntsmen. And also was torturing a kid." It's not so easy to go, "The story shouldn't show them compassion because they're The Worst" when the story is already showing compassion to people who... are also The Worst. I say all this not as a way to excuse any one character's actions - I'm not in the business of going, "[insert horrific choice here] is fine actually!" - but rather to acknowledge that RWBY lacks a clear divide between what actions are forgivable and what actions are not. Fans aren't wrong to go, "If you expect me to feel for Cinder after everything she's done since Episode 1 and you expect me to laugh along with the cast after everything Emerald has done, why isn't Salem Adam Ironwood Ozpin getting that same sort of work?" Given the "trust love" message and the strong push to sympathize with/outright redeem heinous characters, a lot of fans are wondering why our cast hasn't even mentioned all the shit Salem went through. It's been months now since they watched Jinn's vision and they're accepting former villains into their ranks now because Life is Hard and they deserve that chance, but no one cares to even mention everything Salem went through and debate her own responsibility. Surely if they can forgive Emerald for willingly working with her, there's at least some room to discuss the question of Salem's morality in the context of two Gods' manipulations and a magical pool having some kind of impact on her. There's a disconnect here. The story can't go, "These heinous people are Good deep down, actually" without extending that to all our villains, Salem included.

(All of which, btw, is tied up in the frustration that the group hasn't discussed the vision at all. The question of Salem's morality is tied up in the question of her defeat. For example, if they decide they're not comfortable with killing her, that might lead to theories on how to contain her instead...)

So ALL OF THAT is churning in the back of fans' minds. I agree 100% that the group's capture was not the time to extend any sympathy for Salem and I've got posts out there saying the exact same as you, anon: "You really expect Yang to be compassionate after Salem was torturing Oscar, captured them, was planning to kill them, is attacking the city, and just reminded her of her dead mom? C'mon." The problem lies in the fact that we haven't gotten this kind of work anywhere else, the cast has barely mentioned Salem anywhere else - outside of freaking out over her arrival - so when a member of our main group is suddenly right next to her and they're discussing the concept of loss, some fans are like, "AHHHH TALK ABOUT WHAT SALEM HAS LOST TOO GODDAMMIT." It's putting an unfair expectation on Yang and the scene because, again, I don't think that was the time or place for discussing the nuances of morality in a fantasy setting, but because everything else around Salem has been so badly written, and Yang's scene was the closest we've ever gotten to scratching that itch... fans get frustrated that it didn't happen, no matter how unfair or ridiculous that frustration might seem. Really, I don't think fans, in a general sense, actually want Yang to sympathize with Salem then and there. That would be a whole other, messy can of worms given the context. But they want something and at this point "something" has become accepting even really bad versions of what they're looking for. Since no one discussed the vision at the farm, or at Argus, or any time in Atlas, fans are metaphorically throwing up their hands with a, "Well, if we have to delve into Salem's character only when she's doing the most damage in the entire series then fine! You didn't do it earlier when you should have, so this is just what we're left with! Better then nothing! I'm sick of watching Cinder cry and Emerald make quips and Hazel go out in a blaze of heroics and we still haven't even mentioned that our primary antagonist went through more shit than the three of them combined. Am I supposed to be compassionate towards the bad guys or not? Make up your mind, RWBY."

RWBY is a hot mess and the mistakes the story has made, sadly, are not easily separated from one another. Frustration over Yang's scene is prioritizing one problem over another. Namely, the problem of Salem's characterization over the problem of having your hero go "How do you feel though?" while the bad guy is about to kill her. RWBY has backed itself into a corner, both problems exist, but we can only easily discuss one at a time. Similarly, if someone goes, "Ugh they really need to work on Emerald's redemption in Volume 9" people are correct to go, "But if they do that then Volume 8 will look even worse since they've already forgiven her" or "But that's going to be so messy if they're flip-flopping between Vacuo and the island world. Should they even redeem her without the main girls around?" And it's like yes! Exactly! None of these are good options. RWBY has written a situation where ANY choice is going to be a problem on some level because none of this story has been well thought out. So it comes down to which problem an individual fan considers to be, well, more of a problem. In Yang's case it's going, "I will gladly sacrifice the integrity of this scene to get some acknowledgement of a theme that has existed for Salem since early Volume 6 and is now being heavily pushed on other characters in Volume 8. If a stupid moment where Yang is kind to Salem while she's captured is what it takes to start this conversation then fine. I'll take it. Especially when Oscar was kind to Hazel while captured and tortured. You already gave us the stupid scene - just do it again and actually get something out of it this time!"

It is, as said, a twisting, turning mess.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

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mianavs · 4 years ago

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coming to conclusions

part 9 of Cathexis

a/n: hiiii i’ve been working on this update and haven’t done much else lol. it’s a long update but i didn’t want to split it. after this ill work on the stuff in my inbox :)

wc: 4.1k+

Cathexis

Expecting the unexpected was a concept that had been engrained into your psyche at a young age. It saved you countless of times during missions and only improved over time—at least until that fateful meeting with Illumi. Since then, your actions grew erratic and the precautions you once took when dealing with the unknown were forgotten. When it came to Illumi, you were a reckless mess and it was that recklessness that led to your current situation—Illumi’s lips pressed against yours.

Maybe it was the adrenaline that coursed through your veins whenever Illumi was nearby. Or perhaps it was your inexperience in all things carnal. Whatever the reason, you didn’t reject his kiss and instead tilted your head to give him ease of access to your mouth.

Illumi’s kiss was paradoxical.

Unlike his cold cut-throat self, Illumi’s lips were gentle and almost hesitant against yours. He took his time caressing, nipping, and sucking on your lips until they tingled with numbness. It wasn’t until you let out a whimper that Illumi’s warm tongue delved into your mouth and languidly tasted every crevice, clouding your mind with desire.

The low groan that erupted from his throat and reverberated in your conjoined mouths was what snapped you out of your hazy state of mind to reality. Your hands traveled up Illumi’s chest and gently pushed him away until the clear strand of saliva connecting the two of you broke.

“We can’t,” you panted and you couldn’t help but notice his parted swollen lips, labored breathing, and the dust of pink on his cheeks. Illumi looked beautiful and that realization alone frightened you enough to tear your gaze away from him.

“Is it because of Hisoka?” The accusatory tone threw you off.

“Wha- no!” You blurted out in disbelief. “Why are you even bringing him up?”

Illumi’s hand took you by the chin and forced you to face him. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling as he scrutinized your face and you tore away from his grasp as soon as you could.

“Forget it. I’ll let you rest.” He stated, any remnant of emotion stripped from his voice.

As Illumi stood up and sauntered to the door, your mouth opened with a protest on the tip of your tongue but your sense of judgement returned, effectively killing the words on the spot.

If Illumi resented you for rejecting him, he didn’t show it when he visited the next morning with Canary in tow. As the young butler fed you your medicine and helped you with your physical therapy, the weight of Illumi’s eyes made you wish he’d been upset enough to avoid you.

But that wasn’t Illumi and the assassin escorted you to a greenhouse in a corner of the Zoldyck mansion where a breakfast for two was set up. Breathing in the fresh air and admiring the beautiful flora around you was enough to take your mind off the previous night’s events. So when Illumi helped you take a seat on the wrought iron chair before taking his seat opposite you, any lingering awkwardness dissipated and all of your attention was on the plate of food in front of you.

After taking a couple bites, you turned your attention to the assassin in front of you and broke the comfortable silence to get any information you could about the world outside the mansion’s walls.

“How was your mission?”

“It went well. The target was eliminated.”

“Where was the job?” You asked, pushing the subject to see if it would take you where you wanted.

“York New,” Illumi then paused, narrowing his coal eyes slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious,” you took a sip of juice. “I’m just not used to being holed up in one place for too long.”

“Then just tell me.” He leaned forward and uncrossed his arms. “What do you want to know.”

You sighed knowing there would be no beating around the bush with Illumi. “The aftermath…of Saul’s death.”

Illumi quirked his head and furrowed his brow slightly as he thought over your words for a moment before the metaphorical light bulb went off in his head. “Ah- you want to know if your reputation is still in ruins.”

You winced at his harsh words but nodded, nonetheless. “I just want to know what awaits me when I go back.”

“It’s not what it used to be but his death definitely helped.” He paused for a second. “That mafia boss also did some damage control in your stead.”

“Who? Ruo Wen?” Illumi nodded before finishing the last bit of his breakfast.

The last time you’d been in contact with your last client, he’d merely confirmed your payment and wished you a speedy recovery but didn’t say anything beyond that. Ruo Wen wasn’t the type of person to go around doing favors for others without something in return, so you anticipated that the next time he contacted you for a job there would be no denying him.

“I suppose it’s better than nothing,” you admitted, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. “I’ll be able to get some work.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you married me,” he suggested and memories of the night before flooded your mind.

“I-I can’t-” There was an edge to your voice as you scrambled to come up with an excuse.

“But you eventually will so why not get it over with.” Illumi pushed and you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until you gave him an answer

“Because! I-” You took a deep breath to steady yourself. “I’m in no rush to get married. I need to help my parents as much as I can and I’d like to enjoy whatever time I have left being single.”

The assassin remained silent and you decided to get some answers for yourself. “Why did you kiss-”

An unfamiliar presence in the greenhouse caused you and Illumi to turn in the direction where it came from. It was Illumi who recognized the intruder first and called out to them.

“What are you doing here, Kil?”

Silver hair emerged from the greenery and you smiled at the sight of Killua, your preferred Zoldyck. The young boy looked surprised to see Illumi and visibly tensed when Illumi stood up, simultaneously emitting the faintest hint of bloodlust.

“Canary said Y/N was in here…” Killua stopped when Illumi took a couple of steps towards him. Seeing him in action, you were reminded of the type of person Illumi Zoldyck was and your convoluted feelings towards him sorted themselves out.

“That’s enough, Illumi.” You reached out and held his wrist in a vice-like grip.

“He interrupted us,” Illumi deadpanned

“No, we’re done here.” Was your pointed reply before releasing his wrist. “I want to spend time with Killua.”

The slight tensing of his jaw was all you needed to confirm he wasn’t pleased with your declaration but you stood your ground until Illumi finally relented.

“I have a meeting with father so I’ll leave first.” Illumi turned to leave but not before addressing his brother. “Take care of her, Kil.”

Looking down at the forest from the top of Kukuroo mountain reminded you of home. The thin air and cool winds that tickled your face were so familiar you couldn’t believe it. All you had to do was close your eyes to picture the cliff your home sat upon and hear the waves of the sea crashing against it. Most of the memories you held near and dear to your heart involved diving off the cliff into the cool sea water with—

“Y/N!”

Immersed in your memories, you opened your eyes expecting to see your brother but found a worried Killua instead.

“It looked like you wanted to jump off.” He motioned to your hands gripping the balcony’s railing and your body leaning over.

“Ah-sorry! This just reminded me of the cliff back home. My little brother and I like to dive off of it into the sea.”

Stepping away from the balcony, you resumed walking the perimeter of the mansion. After being cooped up inside for so long, your readily accepted Killua’s tour of the Zoldyck family’s grounds and the two of you were just about finished.

“Illumi never mentioned you had a brother.

“Well he’s only eleven plus he hasn’t gotten his license yet.” Was your explanation although you doubted Illumi and the Zoldyck adults didn’t know about your baby brother given their profession and the relationship of your families.

“Is he also getting his when he turns thirteen?” There was a liveliness in his step and big blue eyes that reminded you of your brother. So as Killua matched your slower pace and waited for your reply, you found yourself caring about the middle Zoldyck sibling more than you’d ever anticipated.

“Yes, it’s our family’s tradition. In fact, I haven’t been able to see him lately because he’s been busy training.”

“Is the Hunter Exam that hard?”

You paused, thinking back on your experience, before you formulated your response. “It’s difficult for most adults with years of martial arts training so you can imagine how hard it must be for a kid. That being said, your family, like mine, doesn’t raise children normally so I’m sure if you ever decided to take the exam you would pass.”

The smile that spread across Killua’s face was infectious and you matched it with as much vigor and went so far as to ruffle his soft silver hair affectionately.

For the remainder of your stay at the Zoldyck mansion, you failed to cross paths with Illumi again. Upon returning to your room after spending the entire day with Killua, Canary informed you of Illumi’s departure for a long mission and the news came as a relief to your troubled mind.

You hoped that the time apart would serve to smother the flames of attraction Illumi’s kiss ignited.

Any further interaction with the Zoldycks—excluding Killua—was also avoided as most of them also embarked on missions of their own. The one’s left behind had been Kikyo, Milluki, and Killua which meant you weren’t summoned to any more awkward meals with the former two. For the last few days of your stay, you watched over Killua train for the upcoming Hunter Exam.

On your last day, you bid Killua and Canary farewell and trekked down the mountain debating where to go. York New was always a possibility but with your reputation the jobs would surely be difficult in your weakened state. Heaven’s Arena was also a possibility but the thought of crossing paths with a certain magician changed your mind. In the end, your weakened state and the time spent with Killua contributed to your destination—home.

A quick call to your mother confirmed your brother’s return home from his training trip and you looked forward to the time you’d spend together with him while regaining your strength. On the way to Padokea’s capital airport, you stopped by a souvenir shop to look for a gift for your brother. It was a fun little tradition in your family to bring souvenirs to him after returning home from missions, and as far as you knew, your parents hadn’t stepped foot onto Padokea ever since that event almost nineteen years ago.

A miniature version of Kukuroo Mountain on a shelf caught your eye and, after checking the price, you picked it up and took to the front. As the cashier rang you up, your phone rang with an unknown number lighting up your screen. You answered it immediately thinking it was a potential client but Illumi spoke instead.

“What did you tell him?” It was faint but you could hear the vexation in his voice.

“Tell who?”

“Killua ran away from home after injuring Mother and Milluki and I think you have something to do with it.”

You scoffed in disbelief before shutting down his accusation. “I didn’t tell Killua to attack your mother and brother. He was curious about the Hunter Exam so he probably left to take it.”

A harsh, derisive laugh filled your ear as you took your gift and stormed out of the shop. “Only a few days and you already filled his mind with foolish notions.”

“And what’s so bad about Killua becoming a hunter?”

“He’s not cut out to be a hunter. He was raised to be an assassin and cannot stray from that path.” Illumi answered, as if the reason had been obvious all along.

“He’s just a kid and deserves to have a say in what he wants to do.” You replied firmly, remembering the excited expression on Killua’s face during training. “He can work as a hunter just as well-”

“Of course an outsider like you wouldn’t understand. The Zoldyck name is synonymous with assassins. The heir can’t possibly be hunter instead.”

Illumi spoke to you like a child and if there was one thing you hated most it was being belittled. You’d been plagued by it during your rookie years and refused to go through the same thing again—even if it came from a dangerous man like Illumi.

“You’re right, Illumi, an outsider like me will never understand the inner workings of the Zoldyck family so maybe this engagement shouldn’t take place.”

Ending the call before Illumi could reply, you took a couple deep breaths before making your way to the airport now more eager than ever to return home and escape the madness that was Illumi Zoldyck.

Unlike your previous visit home, you took your time passing through the small town near your home. It was a small town that mostly profited off fishing. Many of the grounds people that worked at your home belonged to families that had lived in town for generations. Such was the case, the people that waved as you passed by were familiar to you and they knew you as well.

“Y/N!”

The distinct raspy voice from behind you sure enough turned out to be Jakob, a fisherman and the son of your family’s cook. He was a couple years older than you but the two of you grew up together and he’d been the one to teach you how to swim.

“Long time no see, Jakob! How’ve you been? How’s Petra?”

“I’m hanging in there,” Jakob grinned and held out a wooden box to you. “Petra’s six months pregnant, you see.”

You took the box and found it to be heavy and smelled like fish. “Oh congratulations! I can’t believe it’s already been a year since your marriage. You better be treating her well, Jakob.”

“I know, I know.” He replied with a roll of his eyes. “By the way, take that to my dad so he can cook it up for you and your brother. It’s from today’s catch.”

A peak into the box confirmed your suspicion and you recognized it as your brother’s favorite.

“Thanks,” you replied and closed the box. “Do you know what it’ll be?”

“The baby? It’s a girl. We found out last week.” He admitted with the biggest-shit eating grin you’d ever seen.

“She will be spoiled rotten by the two of you and your dad!” You laughed imagining old man Olvar playing with his granddaughter. “I don’t know much about kids but I’ll be sure to prepare a gift for her.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” and Jakob paused. “What about you? When are you settling down and having a family of your own?”

Jakob’s words triggered the memory of your first conversation with Illumi and you shuddered remembering his expectations of a wife.

“Not anytime soon,” you replied, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory. “Well, I should really head up now. Say hi to Petra for me!” And with that, you said goodbye to your childhood friend and continued the trek up to your family’s home.

Passing the last home in the outskirts of town, the paved road ended and the dirt road that led all the way to your home began. The incline was quite steep but after years of climbing, you hardly noticed it. Besides, the scenery that surrounded it served as a distraction. To your left was a thick coniferous forest that stretched for miles inland and supplied the town with plenty of lumber and game. On the right was the cliff’s edge and the crashing waves of the sea below. You could practically taste the salty sea water just from the wind itself as it blew past you, whipping your hair and causing goosebumps to form across the surface of your skin.

You wanted nothing more than to drop everything and jump into the chilling waters below. It was very tempting but you figured it would be more enjoyable with your brother so you picked up the pace.

No matter how many times you visited, the warm tickling sensation in your chest never failed to manifest when you stood on the front lawn and peered up at the imposing centuries-old structure. If there was one thing your grandfather did right, it was refurbishing the old family home. Electricity flowed through every corner of the house giving it the heat and lighting it needed while the new plumbing system gave adequate water supply to all of the bathrooms and kitchens. Therefore, while the outside walls gave off the appearance of an old fortress, the interior was as modernized as any home built in the last fifty years.

Upon entering, you instantly felt a presence following your every move and it only took a moment to realize who it was. Deciding to humor him, you took the wooden box and headed towards the kitchen waiting for your little brother to emerge.

After reaching the annex, a shadow to your right caught your eye but you were faster and avoided the small fist that whizzed past your right arm.

“Ugh, you noticed me didn’t you?” Your little brother pouted, relaxing his shoulders and stance.

“Nice to see you too, ” you grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. “And of course I did you were way too obvious.”

He slapped your hand away and patted down his hair before his eyes lit up at the sight of the wooden box and the gift bag you brought. “Are those for me?”

“Well I suppose they both technically are but the fish in the box is dinner. The bag is your souvenir from Padokea.”

You handed him the bag before picking up the box. “Now let’s take this to Olvar.”

By the time you settled in, it was dinner time and you joined your brother in the dining room. It was then that the two of you caught up since the last time you seen each other almost a year ago. You told your brother about your missions and the training you did but made sure to leave out any information about Illumi and the Zoldycks. It had been one of the conclusions you and your parents came to when discussing the debt’s repayment; your little brother would have nothing to do with it.

“So how was Padokea? I don’t think our parent’s have ever been there.”

“Lots of forests and mountains and the towns are nice.” Was your short reply and you steered the conversation towards your brother. “So how was training? Where did you go again?”

“Rokario,” He replied, stabbing a piece of fish with his fork but said nothing else to your surprise.

“Hmmm isn’t that near the NGL?” you commented. “I don’t think I’ve been to the Mitene Union.”

That last comment captured your brother’s attention and he stared at you wide-eyed. “Really?! You’ve never been there?”

For the remainder of the evening, your brother went told you everything he knew about Rokario, NGL, and the other neighboring countries. He spent a large amount of time discussing the people, flora, and fauna native only to that area of the known world. He also told you about the medicinal properties of different plants from treating a common cold to serving as a poison antidote. In the end, he didn’t tell you about his training but you figured you’d find out first-hand over the next few days.

Training was to a hunter as sunlight was to plants; it was vital to their growth. That was a fundamental that’d been passed down in your family and was engraved in you. So over the next few days when you observed your little brother’s movements and Nen strength, it became clearer that he’d slacked off in training. He was more than happy to help you out with your training but when it was his turn he’d get tired quickly and would leave to rest.

You debated when to address the issue and in the end decided to do it the day before you were set to leave. The two of you went swimming for hours before heading to shore and eating the food Olvar had packed you.

“So…what happened,” you began taking a swig of water to wash down your food. “You’ve been slacking off during training.”

Panic flashed on your brother’s face before he looked away. “The thing is…I don’t think I want to be a hunter.”

“Wait, what? Not be a hunter?” You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. “We’re hunters, B/N. That’s just who we are. It’s family tradition!”

“I want to help people. I want to be a doctor. I want to go to school and be a normal kid!” Tears welled up in your brother’s eyes as he looked at you.

“O-okay, we can always just postpone taking the exam so you can go to school but-”

He stood up suddenly and shook his head, tears falling on the floor. “No! You don’t get it, Y/N! I don’t want to take the exam ever! I just want to do what I want to do, not what you, mom, and dad want me to do!”

With that, your brother darted towards the house leaving you dumbfounded and confused. Ever since he first started to talk, he’d always wanted to be a hunter like the rest of you. Your parents even had him start his training early since he’d follow you around anyway. Not to mention, he also had a natural talent when it came to martial arts and was strong—even before finding out he was an Enhancer.

That night, after dining alone, you tried to figure out what had changed your brother’s mind and concluded that something must have happened during his trip. The conversation you had with him regarding the trip came to mind and you remembered the animated way he told you about the people, animals, and plants. Your brother’s face when he told you about the different medicinal properties of plants came to mind. He looked so excited and proud of himself…almost like Killua when he was training with you for the Hunter Exam.

“Hah…”

The bitter realization that you’d acted just like Illumi was like a slap in the face. What right did you have to judge Illumi when here you were telling your brother he had to become a hunter? Once you came to that realization, you thought about Illumi’s reasoning behind not wanting Killua to stray from his path and wondered if it was similar to yours. You fell asleep late that night mulling over what you would tell your brother and whether you should apologize to Illumi.

The next morning, after packing a bag for your trip, you headed to your brother’s room and knocked on his door. You heard shuffling in his room after the first few knocks but he never opened the door, so you decided to talk anyway hoping he wasn’t too upset to ignore you.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s just you caught me off guard and I didn’t know how to react. You deserve to do what makes you happy and if that’s being a doctor then I’ll support you and we can talk to mom and dad about it when you’re ready. I would like for you to at least take the Hunter Exam, though. You don’t have to be hunter but it would be nice if you were licensed at least plus there’s a lot of benefits that come with it.”

You paused to see if he would open the door but you didn’t hear him move. “Well, I’m heading out now. Stay safe, okay?”

In the end, you weren’t able to see you brother again so you asked the grounds people and Olvar to look after him while your parents were away. Leaving home was always a melancholic event but this departure in particular was gloomier than usual. You wanted your brother to be happy but the family’s legacy remained steadfast in your mind.

With a sigh, you pulled out your phone. The number Illumi had called you from had been a payphone and you had no other means of contacting him, so you scrolled through your contacts until a particular name appeared on your glowing screen.

[Hisoka]

#illumi x reader #illumi fanfic #illumi x you #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh #hxh x you #illumi x y/n #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfiction #killua zoldyck #killua #slow burn #ongoing fic #navs.hxh #navs.cathexis

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rosezure · 4 years ago

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Todoroki Family - My Opinion

MANGA SPOILERS FOR BNHA/MHA ahead!

CW: parental neglect and abuse, anxiety, therapy, Touya Todoroki/Dabi, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, spoilers, swearing (please remind me if I forgot anything).

Disclaimer: All of the information on the Todoroki family dynamics is based on my interpretation of what’s been (so far) revealed through the anime and manga. These are all just opinions, you are free to agree or disagree respectfully. I do not wish to invalidate anyone’s opinion. Family dynamics have always been a very sensitive and triggering subject to me, so I hope that you respect that if you wish to discuss this with me.I would like to give my own two cents on the Todoroki family situation. As someone that has dealt with abuse and neglect in a (slightly) similar way my whole life, this story hits very close to home. I will try to be as thorough and objective as possible. But, feel free to call me out (respectfully) if there is anything ambiguous or if problematic. Thank you.

I am going to focus on Touya/Dabi and Enji’s story. I do not know enough to talk about Rei’s role in all of this, so I will not mention her. But, I might update this as new chapters come out.

I will talk about Dabi’s early years by referring to him as Touya since that was his identity at the time. Any comments about him as an adult will be referring to him as Dabi.

I was a psychology student for about two years, and when we learned about child development, here is what I gathered:

When you are a child, all you want is to be loved, to be safe. This is essential to a child, as it is what develops them into a healthy and independent adult. And, this is especially important concerning parents or guardians. Effective parenting practices ensure that the child will have a better chance at developing according to their age and needs. This will grant the kids skills that they will use and perfect as they grow up. In other words, children that are well-taken care of have a higher chance of being strong, healthy, and emotionally developed adults.

When a parent or guardian is ignorant of how they can impact their child’s growth, it has many negative effects. In Touya’s case, Enji Todoroki was clueless. This does not mean Enji should not be held responsible just because he was ignorant. Enji knew he was not being the best parent, but he did not know how exactly. And, at the time he was blinded by his greed and ambition, so he would not have been paying attention to that. Even so, (personally) I do not think parents are afforded the luxury of ignoring their bad parenting if they are made aware of it. They are responsible for another human’s life and growth. They should be held accountable if the child develops issues and hurts themselves or even others.

With that being said, Enji Todoroki was a horrible but clueless parent. From what I have understood from the manga and the anime, at first, he had no idea why Shoto was so "rebellious" (in his opinion). He also seemed to not understand Natsuo and Fuyumi. So I am led to believe that he was, at the time, oblivious to how much he negatively impacted Touya.

Touya just wanted his father’s affection. If that meant grueling training and preparing to become a hero to defeat All Might, then so be it. It was the attention and affection he knew. He was not led to believe otherwise. Touya's sole positive interactions came from him showing he could fulfill his father’s sick dream. In a child’s mind, that was the only way to secure parental love and approval: To train as hard as possible and become what his father so desperately wished for.

Then his hair started turning white. He started getting injured because of his quirk. His only source of positive attention, his only hope for affection, was killing him. And it had to be stopped. I am sure in Touya’s mind, this meant he would not be loved anymore.

And then Enji stopped training him. Natsuo was born. Shoto was born. And Touya felt that his source of love was directed to that baby. The baby that Enji saw as a success. Enji made Touya feel like a failure, a broken toy. And he was being replaced by a newer, shinier one: His brother.

When he tries to attack Shoto, he is trying to take back his place. Touya was trying to gain back his father’s love and attention.

Enji wanted to prevent Touya from hurting himself more. But he failed to communicate that. Instead, his words made it seem like his plan was foiled. Touya wasn’t enough, so Enji’s chance of using him to end All Might vanished. Touya wasn’t what Enji needed anymore.

Touya’s world didn’t collapse all at once. It didn’t even crack all at once. From what I understood, it was a collection of hairline fractures that never healed. It was a dislocated shoulder that was never put back in its place and was left to hang. It was a pounding headache that only grew more and more painful over time.

When Dabi was born, Touya had been buried in bruises, paper cuts, minor broken bones, chronic illnesses. Touya was killed by exhaustion and pain. He didn’t die at one point, he was dying all along.

As someone who suffers from chronic issues, I know that the somatization of symptoms and other sources of pain can turn a simple illness into something much more serious. Think of it as a butterfly effect, but all inside one person: Every single negative experience, from both outer and inner sources, all summed and turned into one massive festering wound.

Touya’s mind was a living open wound, it seems.

So Dabi was born. To seal the wound shut. Clean it? No. Protect it? Maybe.

But this particular type of wound (the psychological, emotional one) if left untreated can become infected. And infected wounds are harder and more painful to clean and treat.

Dabi’s mind is a bandaid over an infected wound. It seems objectively okay, maybe even sane. But he’s clearly in pain. He’s not in his right mind. His decisions all stem from the pure rage and anger of a child that was abandoned.

What chapter 300 brought was the perspective of a child that just wanted to be loved. That's all he wanted. And the only love he knew was when Enji Todoroki trained with him, no matter how gruesome and painful it must've been.

I'm gonna briefly and superficially compare his situation to mine. Of course, I didn’t suffer half of the pain he did, and I won't go into any detail as to not trigger myself. But, I only got attention when I was either extremely sick or I was needed as a trophy child of some sort. Even then, if I was ill, the attention I got was so I could get well soon and go back to being "useful". I was an extension of them, at best. But I still craved their attention. I still do in a way to this very day. It's not something that just goes away once you realize how toxic and abusive it is.

No matter how much pain I’m in, no matter how love-starved I am, I still want their approval. Inside me, there’s still a scared child, crying out for her parents to love her. That child is now my responsibility. I have to give her love, nurture her so she can grow with me.

Does that make sense?

I have no idea how Dabi is feeling. And I don’t think we’ll ever truly know. He is fictional, after all, and there’s no telling if Horikoshi will be delving into that.

But maybe Touya is still inside Dabi, crying, screaming to be loved. And Dabi is trying his best to tend to that child, but he never truly grew up to know how to take care of another being. Dabi doesn’t know how to take care of himself emotionally.

I’m learning because I, thankfully, have access to therapy. But it hurts. It hurts to realize the ones that were meant to take care of you, didn’t. It hurts to look into yourself and see a shaking, teary-eyed child begging for crumbs of love.

Now, with the whole "redemption" thing being debated, here's my own personal opinion. You don't have to agree, and I'm not asking you to. Again, this is just how I view it. As a survivor, I'd be relieved to see my parents try. The damage is done, true. I'll never regain my childhood. I'll never have what people with different, better, parents have. The past can't be reversed. And I'm seeing it repeat itself with my little brother. But, if there's a minimal chance that my parents can own up to what they did, that they open themselves up to changing their behavior and learning, then maybe we can build something new.

Build. Not rebuild. The foundation of our past relationship was rotten from the beginning. A new one must be built. A new foundation must be developed if we ever hope to make something of our relationship.

If the Todorokis, really want to reconcile, reconnect, rebuild, then they must start from scratch. If Enji Todoroki wants that, he’s gonna have to start from zero, from nothing. And I'm not entirely sure if Endeavor is doing that, but he is trying, somehow. We don't know for sure if he even has the emotional skills to do so. We can't say for sure that he's got what it takes to man up, own up and learn. But, he seems to be trying.

And that's something I've accepted I'll never have.

So if there's at least a 1% chance that he is truly trying, that Enji wants to redeem himself, then let him. Let their family try and heal together if that's what they want.

I'm not sure about the Japanese culture when it comes to family. But where I come from, a family is an important base of our personal and social development, to the point that reconciliation more often than not is the best route.

Still, I know it's not for everyone. So I respect you if you believe he doesn't deserve a chance. I understand if you say Enji Todoroki should be kept far away from his family. You're right, and you're valid.

But, please, please, if the author decides that he redeems himself and does try his best to start a new relationship with his family, let him. Let them heal. Together. Let them try and make up for the lost time in the best way in the present. Let them rebuild.

I know I'd give anything to rebuild my family.

Let Touya be healed and put Dabi to rest. Touya needs to be loved, he needs to be taken care of like he never was as a child. Dabi needs to be told he tried. He needs to be told he did what he could.

But Dabi is also an adult now. He’s got legal responsibilities. The pain and devastation he’s caused and helped cause can’t be overlooked. He needs help, but he also had to be held accountable.

Touya/Dabi needs to face himself and start over. He needs to face the man he’s become and at the same time take care of the child he wasn’t able to be.

If the Todoroki family is reconciled, I dearly hope he gets to be a part of this new book. Not a new chapter, they need to throw that whole book away and start a new one. And, if possible, I’d love to see someone like me get the ending I won’t be getting.

I hope this made some sense at least. Again, if anything is unclear, ambiguous, or problematic, let me know and I’ll do my best to correct or remove the bad parts. If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you share a similar experience, I’m sorry, and I’m here for you.

#bnha #mha #bnha 300 #bnha 301 #bnha spoilers #bnha discussion #touya todoroki #dabi #enji todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki family #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #rei todoroki #touya #shoto #endeavor #endeavour

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obeymemc-marcie · 4 years ago

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Special Guest Appearance

(That's the title of this one)

Warnings: NSFW, Dom!Levi, a smidge of tail action, MC uses she/her pronouns with female genetalia, slight masturbation, mentions of demon in heat, let me know if I need to add more! 💜

"Hey there Deviltube, L3 here and welcome back to another video. We're going to pick up where we left off here playing Skyrim. If you remember we were-"

Marcie mouthed the words with a practiced ease as she lip-synced his signature intro, dangling her legs outside the rim of his tub bed. Her eyes roved over her own device as she played through the same quest he was currently livestreaming. He had told her before that he didn't mind if she'd made an appearance during one of his streams, but she knew this was his passion and didn't want to distract him from it. Besides, playing along with him always made her feel giddy, gave her a sense of happiness she couldn't explain.

Today, however was a little different. After his last livestream, Marcie had pulled up a walkthrough to read ahead through the next quest. She still wanted to play it through with him but this time, she wanted to make an appearance during his livestream.

It had been almost a full month since his last heat and now that he had Marcie, well it was a little easier for him to get through it, but Marcie also knew he dreaded the heat cycle. It made him insatiable and dark, rough and driven by lust and the pure primal instinct to mate. Marcie couldn't help the bolt of pleasure that danced along her spine, pooling in her lower abdomen remembering how he had been with her. She licked her lips, fighting back a moan, as she felt the ghost of his tail coiled around her throat, his cocks penetrating both of her holes at the same time. Her blue eyes fixated on her screen, set in determination and she squeezed her thighs together just slightly, already feeling her arousal dampen her panties. Today would be an interesting livestream indeed.

"What do you guys think, should I fast travel to the Greybeards or run there?" Levi panned his camera to the area surrounding him and his eyes caught some bandits in the distance, "or should I go kill those guys and steal their horse?" He paused for a moment to rummage through his character's inventory as the comments flowed in, all his viewers casting their votes.

That's when his nose picked up a scent, light at first but unmistakable as it whirled around his senses, embracing him. The scent of sweet oranges and subtle notes of peppermint mellowed out by eucalyptus and tied together with lemongrass; it was the ambrosial scent of his human's arousal.

Orange eyes could see her legs swaying over the edge of his tub in their peripheral vision, he caught the movement as her legs moved closer together and get smell became more potent.

Levi snapped out of his trance when he felt his mouth begin to salivate and turned his attention back to the game. He saw a prominent blush spreading out across the bridge of good nose, painting his cheeks and a light pink in his livestream camera feed. The pupils of his eyes narrowed into slits but only so briefly he thought he'd imagine it. Shaking his head, he faked a few coughs and cleared his throat, hoping it would dispel the blush and felt a stirring in the back of his mind.

"H-hey," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat again, reaching out to take a swig of his energy drink. "Guess I'm going to go steal a horse," his laugh was forced but he quickly found himself delving back into the game.

Marcie was biting her hand trying not to laugh. Watching his face, his real time reactions in the corner of the steam, oh he was going to punish her for what she had planned. She smiled, practically humming in anticipation. Bandits had not spawned in her game so she led her character over to where his would be on his playthrough and paused to wait for him. Making as little sound as possible, Marcie pulled her shirt up and over her head and placed it on the blankets next to her. Levi engaged in combat with the bandits and took the opportunity to pull her legs down and tug off her jeans as well, leaving her with just her bra and underwear on.

The full scent of her arousal washed over him, no longer held back by the denim. He paused his game mid fight to catch his breath. Comments poured in, some asking if he was a noob for chickening out of a fight, some asking if he was okay because he looked feverish. His eyes cut back over to the tub and noticed her legs were not hanging over the rim anymore. Listening for a moment for any indication she was doing something indecent in his bed, Marcie noticed Levi was looking her direction on the livestream and held up her hand, giving him a thumbs-up signaling she was okay. Hesitating, he turned back to his game, face felt like it was on fire. The red stuck out against his normally pale face.

"Sorry about that," Levi saw he was sporting a small pout and changed his expression to a small smile, sheepishly looking into the camera, "I guess I'm not feeling too well today but I still plan on carrying out the rest of this mission." Talking helped him shift his mindset back into gaming mode and soon he was making his way to the Throat of the World on horseback.

A few hours had passed, Marcie found herself lost in the game as well until she'd heard the words she'd been waiting for. While reading the walkthrough, she memorized the key phrase for when she would act out her plan. Levi had a knack for letting the cutscenes play all the way through, soaking in the dialogue and cinematography like a long-awaited movie.

The voices droned on as she saved her game and put her console to sleep. Peeking her head above the top of the tub, her lips spread in a conniving smile; the mischievous kitty about to eat herself a canary. Readjusting her breasts to plump them up in her bra, she crawled out of the tub and slunk down. His attention was solely focused on the monitor, watching the Nordic heroes battling against Alduin's forces, eyes sparkling as he watched the scene unfold. She almost felt guilty for what she was about to do. Almost.

Marcie crept and crouched to hide behind the file cabinet under his desk, successfully concealing herself. Her nerves fluttered, she debated giving up and returning to the tub. But then she felt the ghost of his claws running down her thighs as his tongue, his forked tongue, made her see stars between her legs. Her breathing shuddered as she steeled her resolve and crept closer, crawling on her hands and knees under his desk.

Levi had been entranced by the cutscene. The graphics, the cinematography, the dialogue, the lore, it all fascinated him. The rich lore of the Elder Scrolls and here was the moment he saw the three heroes go against Alduin and witness how the World Eater was cast forward into time.

He almost missed the spike in Marcie's arousal. The scent was stronger this time, he choked back a whine. His leg started to bounce in frustration as he felt his own arousal start to stir. Levi bit his lip as he felt his pants tighten around him, he could feel another part of him start to wake up as well, after having slumbered for almost a month. His grip tightened on the controller as he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider to add a little more friction and pressure to his semi-hardening erection.

Marcie could feel the smile that stretched across her face, smug and victorious. She could fell herself start to drool and she inched closer. He was reacting to her. Reaching her hand down to her own apex, Marcie ran her fingers through her folds biting back a sigh and played with her clit and watched the tent in his pants twitch and rise.

Levi sucked in a breath, releasing his lip, a vein pulsated along his neck as he grit his teeth together. She was teasing him now. She had to have known what affect she had on him. The screen blacked out as it shifted to a loading screen. Taking the moment to roll his chair back, Levi arched his body, turning to look into the tub bed. He felt his heart stop when it was empty. He clearly still smelled her, but where-

Oh.

She smiled innocently as they made eye contact, raising her hand to her mouth and sucked on the fingers that were previously rubbing against her folds. Marcie groped her breast before pointing up, indicating his game had finished loading.

Levi's mouth was gaping, his face was burning red, his erection straining against his pants. His eyes slowly followed where she was pointing and he scrambled to pull himself back to his desk and turned off the camera.

"S-sorry everyone," he gulped, ignoring all the comments flowing in, "uh, technical d-difficulties," Levi cleared his throat, "let's p-pick up where we left off." Marcie snickered silently as he tried to keep his composure and placed her hands on his knees, gently squeezing his thighs. Levi shifted into his demon form instantaneously and Marcie licked her lips as his tail cracked against the tile floor.

This was supposed to be the moment in the game where he was to fight Alduin. He had spent days level crunching so he could be prepared. Oh, he was going to punish her. Levi smiled deviously and paused the game.

"I swear, some people in this house are really inconsiderate, I'm sorry, I have to go yell at Mammon again," his tail was thrashing around behind him making crashing noises to accompany the lie. Muting the microphone, Levi rolled his chair back slowly and leaned forward to grip Marcie's chin and pulled her up to meet his face, a wicked grin spreading over his lips. Marcie gulped and licked her lips in anticipation.

"You're going to sit in my lap, and I'm going to edge you until I've decided you've had enough." She nodded enthusiastically and he shook his head, and let out a deep laugh "You underestimate my power."

In normal circumstances, she would have snorted at the reference but with her current state of arousal and the way he was devouring her almost-naked form with his eyes, his words sent shivers down her spine.

Levi rolled his chair back and Marcie climbed out from under his desk. He raised his hips and commanded her to take off his pants.

"You should be wet enough to take all of me, right kohai?"

Marcie bit her lip and twirled a stand of her hair around her finger, saying, "but you're so big senpai, I don't know if my tight pussy will be able to take all of you, but maybe if you fucked my throat first?" Her lower lip jutted out in a pout and he groaned, the arm rests cracking under his grip.

Levi released a dark chuckle, cocked his head to the side, and smiled sadistically. "You haven't earned that right. You know where the lube is, go get it." She pouted but obliged, pulling open one of the drawers and took out the bottle.

"Good girl now hand it over," he outstretched his hand and Marcie whined. He was denying her of touching him, he tutted in response as she held it out to him. "You should have thought about that earlier. You have to earn the right to touch me," Levi coated his erection with enough lube and tossed the bottle onto the floor. "Now, turn around and come sit on my lap."

"Yes senpai," Marcie did as she was told, sticking her ass out further than necessary before lowering herself down, releasing a shuddering moan as his size stretched her out. The lube made it easier for him to slide in but she was still met with resistance and struggled with his size, riding him shallowly to coax her muscles to loosen up.

Levi growled, his tail cracking against the floor as he felt her walls squeeze him. It had been awhile since they were last intimate, and he could tell with the way her heat constricted around him. Leaning forward, a claw traced the fabric of her bra before twisting, slicing right through the fabric. His hand reached around and groped her plump breast as she had done earlier, his other hand moving down her body.

His fingers ghosted over her skin, feeling the flesh ripple and twitch under his delicate touch. He bit into her shoulder as his hand reached her apex, his fingers rolling themselves over her sensitive nub and lapped his tongue against the love bite.

"What's wrong Marcelline," he palmed her breast, toying with her nipple and teased the skin on her other shoulder, "I thought you wanted this yet you're struggling. Try to keep quiet as you take the rest of me or I'll have no choice but to shove my tail down your throat." The tip of the appendage slithered around her thigh before coming up to flick against her clit as emphasis. Panting and biting her lip, Marcie continued rolling her hips in slow and shallow thrusts, moving as much as he'd allow. His nails dug into her hip painfully if she moved too much.

Rolling them back to the computer, Levi switched out his headphones, opting for a single earbud so he could hear her and the game, and moved his mic to the other side, away from Marcie but still able to talk into it. He'd have to read the comments later, but he lost a few viewers.

'I bet if I turned the camera back on, the viewer count would skyrocket.' Levi mulled over the thought but she threw her head back onto his shoulder as she fully seated herself on his lap and he could see her face; eyes clouded in lust, breasts rolling around to match her panting, cheeks burning bright red, mouth hanging open, was that drool? No, only he was allowed to see her like this. No one else deserved to lay eyes on his precious Marcie.

Levi gave her breast one last squeeze before returning his hand to the keyboard. "Not a single peep. If you make a noise or try to move, I will only play longer." He kissed her shoulder, "you understand kohai?" He smiled as she nodded.

Shout-out to @kawaiizard for helping me beta read this 😭 I appreciate you 💜

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #om! swd #om leviathan #om levi #levi smut #obey me smut #om smut #obey me levi x mc #levi x oc #Levi x mc #n/sfw

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hongism · 5 years ago

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mists of celeste ➻ six

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 3.9k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒

mists of celeste act one ➻ part six

“Wait–” you call out, and Seonghwa stops in his tracks. “I… I have a question for you before we go.”

“Ask away then, princess.” Seonghwa shrugs, pushing loose strands of black hair out of his eyes. You’re surprised that he can even see past the fringe, but you opt not to linger on that thought for very long in favor of getting on with the conversation.

“I still want to know when your dear Scourge made the decision about me. It doesn’t make sense for a man of his reputation to be so merciful, especially considering what he did to the ship I was aboard days ago. So when did he make the decision and why?” You ask the question again, still not convinced by Seonghwa’s previous answer. A half-hearted laugh leaves his lips. He turns away from you and shrouds his expression from view.

“Why is it important though, princess?” He asks in return. The hard soles of his shoes click against the metal floor as he takes a few steps forward, long legs making the strides easy to put distance between the two of you. You don’t follow after him quite yet. You are determined to stand your ground in front of every single one of these men, whether they are criminals or not. While it might not be the smartest idea on your part, you have certainly done a lot worse in your lifetime.

When you choose not to respond immediately, the tall lieutenant spins around on his heel to look back at you. Dark eyes squint, a glare passes over you, yet you can’t quite decipher the expression resting on his features.

“It doesn’t affect anything really, does it? When he made the decision? Why? So… my question for you is why is Hongjoong’s decision still weighing on you?”

“No one hands out favors like that. Especially not someone as notorious as the Scourge of the Black Sea. Of course, I would imagine that the infamous Scourge would put up a better fight.” You cock your head to the side, glaring daggers into Seonghwa’s form. “But he didn’t. So I would like to know why, and seeing as you are his right hand, I think you would know as well.”

“What do you mean by a fight? As I recall, he nearly killed you on more than one occasion. Just because his motives are not obvious doesn’t mean they aren’t there. It’s all in his mannerisms, his posture, the look in his eyes. I can’t count on one hand how many times he thought about killing you in the med bay just now. So elaborate for me: what do you mean by a fight?”

The words cause your stomach to stir a little, discomfort settling into your bones as Seonghwa speaks them, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Part of you wants to ask exactly how many times Hongjoong debated killing you on the spot, but you decide that some things are better left unknown, and that is most certainly one of those things.

“I can’t wrap my mind around him. He isn’t what I expected him to be, and that is what is most unsettling. Years of legend and infamy behind him – surely you understand my surprise when I find those legends to be incorrect?”

“Almost every legend is a lie, Y/N.” It’s the first time Seonghwa has used your first name, and the tone with which he says it sends a chill down your spine. It shifts again a moment later, and what seems to be his regular timbre returns. “You fixate so much on minute details. Surely you understand my confusion concerning that behavior?”

It takes a moment for realization to sink in, but once it does, your expression melts into one of anger. He is mocking you.

“Fine, then let me ask another question. Why do they call you the Lieutenant of Death?” You are hoping for the words to snag a nerve or turn the discomfort over to him, but all you get in response is a clear laugh that rings through the hall. He throws his head back, hair scattering across his forehead. When he brings his head back down to look you in the eye, his tongue glides across his bottom lip as though in preparation to taunt you again.

“Come now, princess. You have an extensive history with the military, do you not? Surely you must know the answer to that question.”

You set your jaw, teeth grinding together, and level Seonghwa with a heated glare. “I am well aware of your history and extensive criminal record, especially since I was assigned to track you down and kill you at one point,” you hiss out.

Seonghwa allows a bit of emotion to shine through his expression, eyebrows raising as you share the information, and he glances away from you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. After a moment of pondering, he breaks into a bout of laughter. It’s a strange reaction to being told that you are his would-be killer, and the longer he laughs the more confused you become.

“W-Why are you laughing?” You stutter out. Seonghwa pauses mid-laugh, looking from the ceiling to you while teasing the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

“It’s not every day that you get to meet your would-be assassin,” he states as though the reason for his amusement is obvious. “Although, you must not have put too much effort into fulfilling that task. Especially seeing as I’ve not seen your face outside bounty papers.”

“Part of being an assassin means hiding your identity from your target,” you respond, mimicking his slight smile.

“I wonder if your most recent target saw the face of his killer before he died.” You know exactly what Seonghwa is alluding to, and you would rather not delve into that topic again so you divert the subject.

“I was assigned to your file just before I left the military,” you explain. Seonghwa hums in response, nodding his head a few times.

“So why did you leave the military?” He asks after a breath of silence. Your gaze falls into a glare once more.

“You know why.”

“That isn’t at all what I meant,” Seonghwa smirks as he takes several long strides in your direction. Your first instinct is to back up and put distance between the two of you, but you find yourself completely unable to move so Seonghwa is face to face with you within seconds. “The chains on your wrist… were they there before or after you murdered a king?”

The words spark something in you, an anger you rarely let show, and you press your forearm against Seonghwa’s throat. The strain of the movements causes your wound to sting and burn but you continue moving until you have Seonghwa pinned against the wall. He goes along with your actions even though you both know that he is more than capable of deflecting you easily.

“It fucking wasn’t murder!” You spit out, glaring up at Seonghwa. He arches a brow and matches your glare. Silence lingers after your heated words. Then, within a second, Seonghwa twists your arm behind your back and spins around so that you are the one against the wall now. Your cheek presses roughly against the cool metal, your ears ringing from the harsh impact. Seonghwa leans close to your face and looks you in the eye as he says his next words.

“What was it then? If not murder, then what? Assassination? Sure, plenty of people wanted the king dead but tell me – why would they ever turn to a soldier to do that job for them?”

“Why would you think that the military would let me go with merely a brand?” You hiss back. “If they had given me the brand after killing their king, then wouldn’t you think they would’ve made certain that I had the highest amount of security possible? Why would they ever let me out of their sight? Let me escape? Impossible. The military is stupid but they aren’t that foolish.”

“Your reputation precedes you. They call you the Ghost of Eros for a reason because supposedly you disappeared off the face of the planet after murdering the king.”

You writhe against Seonghwa’s grip. “Their king earned his death. I merely delivered the blow.”

“You keep saying that he was their king, yet he was yours at one point too. You’re so awfully defensive about this topic. You were defensive with Hongjoong too, so it’s more than obvious that something else – or someone else – is involved. There must be more to it than you’re letting on.”

“What? Are you planning to extract the information out of me? I’m afraid that has been tried in the past. You can’t ask them how it turned out because they’re dead now.”

Seonghwa releases your arm and steps back, a quiet laugh leaving his lips as he moves away from you.

“You’re so feisty, princess. If I didn’t know how dangerous you truly are, I might ask you to spar with me one day.”

You push off the wall, turning to face Seonghwa and settling him with a glare. “You’re so romantic, pretty boy. I’m sure all the ladies love when you say that.”

“All the ladies and men, in fact,” Seonghwa replies, a smirk twisting his lips, and he sends a wink in your direction. He starts down the hall again. This time, you follow after him, trailing a couple of feet behind him and watching his back as he walks. “But if you had the brand prior to… killing the king, what made you go back to Eros in the first place?”

“Which time?” You grumble, shifting your shirt back into a state of normalcy. “I’ve been back to Eros many times since I got the brand.”

“That isn’t what I meant…” Seonghwa trails off. He steps further back and looks away from you. “It seems strange that a criminal like you would return to Eros and board a military ship. That is quite ballsy if you ask me.”

All of a sudden, you remember exactly why you were on the ship in the first place. The papers… You grab at your shirt, feeling around at the band around your chest for any sign of the folds of paper, and when you can’t find them there, you pat down your pants instead. Fuck where are they? Fucking hell, after all this time of trying to get these damn papers? I lose them within the first few days?

Seonghwa glances back at you. Concern and question shine through in his gaze, although he doesn’t say anything right away until you drop your arms to your sides in defeat.

“Is everything okay?” He asks.

“Yea, yea,” you mumble back, voice trembling slightly. Did Yunho take them? Why would he take them? Did he give them to Hongjoong? Oh fuck, that’s the last thing I need. What if he uses them and puts his name on them? Shit, I shouldn’t have let them out of my sight. I shouldn’t have forgotten about them in the first place.

Seonghwa is still staring at you. He’s evidently waiting for a further response, but you’re struggling to come up with an excuse on the spot like this.

“I seem to have lost my weapons,” you say with a slight smile.

“Oh? So that’s why you were on that ship? To find your missing weapons?”

“Haha, how very funny, but no.”

“Hongjoong asked Yunho to confiscate your weapons. Can’t have you going rogue and having access to things that could kill us, no?” Seonghwa laughs a little. Despite his insistence that you are a danger, he shows no signs that he is intimidated by you in the slightest. His confidence is still rolling off him in waves, and that scares you more than the body count behind his nickname. “Yet you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t plan to. That information is for me to know… and you to not know.” Your response causes Seonghwa to burst into laughter.

“So secretive, princess. If you aren’t careful, I might get intrigued by you.”

“Aw, like you aren’t interested already? You’ve been asking questions left and right as it is.”

Seonghwa comes to a halt, and for a moment you think it’s because of what you said. However, he turns to a door instead and taps at the keypad beside it. The metal slides open with a whoosh, revealing a dark room, and Seonghwa motions for you to follow him inside.

“You have piqued my interest, yes. But being intrigued is a bit different.”

“The difference being?” You inquire as you follow him into the room. The lights flicker on once he steps over the threshold, casting light over a rather simple bedroom.

“Let’s hope you don’t learn the difference,” he says before clearing his throat. He extends an arm to the room. “Your quarters, princess. I’m afraid they’re a bit simple seeing as you don’t have any belongings to put in here, but it has the basics. Bed, bathroom, dresser, mirror, bookshelf should you enjoy reading.”

“Only the best aboard The Horizon, I see.”

Seonghwa releases a huff of laughter. “We aim to please,” he says with a small lilt to his tone. “Some more than others.” You scoff, surprise coursing through you as he says the words, and yet again you find yourself shocked by the boldness of this crew.

“Aren’t you a bit too cheeky for a criminal?”

“Is there a special guide I should be following? ‘Proper ways to be a criminal’? Rule number one: don’t be cheeky with princess, it gets on her nerves.” Seonghwa pokes his tongue out, darting over his bottom lip. “Now, you can come back here later and look around some more, but for now, I need to introduce you to the other crew members. If you’re going to be working with us all, it might be smart for you to know us all before going on any missions with each other.”

Seonghwa brushes past you, shoulder just missing yours, and leads the way out of the room again. You give the room once more scan before turning to follow him. Only one exit. Not even a vent in the damn room. He really does have one of the most secure ships in the galaxy, doesn’t he?

“Now, you’ve met Hongjoong and myself obviously. Yunho as well, and San, I believe?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself in attempts to warm yourself up. The longer you are out here in the halls, the colder it becomes, and your thin shirt is doing very little to block the cold air from touching your skin.

“Hm, we need you to meet Yeosang and Jongho for certain. Wooyoung, as well, although you may not work with him too much. I think we should hold off on introducing you to Mingi, though.”

Wooyoung… That name is somewhat familiar to you. You recall it from the arguments San and Yunho shared, someone who was supposed to help Yunho with your operation but didn’t due to San’s insistence that he was not needed. It strikes you as strange that San would be so determined to hide Wooyoung yet Seonghwa, the Lieutenant, is showing zero hesitation in the slightest when talking about him.

“Wait, why hold off?” You ask, suddenly focused on the last bit of Seonghwa’s comment. He glances back at you over his shoulder, an unreadable emotion in his eyes, and you think he’s not going to respond for a moment.

“He can be a bit aggressive with new people,” Seonghwa mutters. He reaches up to touch his throat, fingers trailing over his skin as though remembering something. He shakes his head and drops his arm to his side when he catches your stare lingering. “Seeing as you are still recovering and Hongjoong set you back a little bit, I don’t think it would be wise to put you further in harm’s way.”

“That’s fair, yes.”

“Yet it still sounds like you are doubting something.”

“Your intentions,” you reply. A sigh leaves Seonghwa’s lips.

“You have issues trusting people, don’t you?”

“Can you blame me?”

“When people are doing you a favor and you respond with distrust, yes I can blame you. Hongjoong didn’t have to take you in. You could be dead right now but you aren’t. That’s more than a small favor if you ask me. The least you can do is have some semblance of gratitude. Unless that’s too much to ask for.”

You fall silent at Seonghwa’s comment, continuing to trail after him in silence as he takes you through the ship. He takes your silence as a desire not to talk anymore and doesn’t push for conversation again. In fact, he doesn’t talk for the next ten minutes or so; instead leading you and matching your silence with one of his own. When you reach your destination at long last, you are almost ready to burst because of the awkward tension lingering between you and Seonghwa. Thankfully that doesn’t last long, because a familiar Cheshire smile greets you when you look past Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s up and moving finally,” San says as he comes closer to the two of you. He pays Seonghwa almost zero attention in favor of honing in on you. “With all your limbs intact too. Here I was worried that you might lose your arm before the end of it.” The timbre of his voice is almost like a purr, soothing and alluring. He commands attention with his voice alone, although his appearance helps a bit as well. Now that you are free of your fever-induced haze, you can properly look at him without feeling as though you are going to keel over.

“San,” Seonghwa greets, still facing forward as he talks to the other man.

“Lieutenant. Giving her the tour?”

“Introducing her to the others, actually.”

“Just in time. Almost everyone is here for dinner.”

“I know. That’s why I brought her here now and not later.” Seonghwa beckons for you to follow him again, and you drag your gaze off San and his little cat-like smile in favor of glancing around the new room you’ve entered.

It’s similar to almost every military ship you’ve been aboard: tall walls, an overabundance of tables on either side of the room, and two large archways at opposite ends of the room. It’s a mess hall, although one that is ridiculously big for the amount of people in the room. Near the center of the room, two people sit at a circular table, heads down as though they don’t know that you even exist. Even at a distance, you can hear quite mumblings exchanged between the two. If, according to San, “almost everyone” is present, then Hongjoong must not have many people on his crew to begin with.

“Seonghwa,” you call out before he gets any closer to the table. “How many people are on the crew exactly?”

“Eight, including Hongjoong. I guess nine now with you.”

“That’s it?” You ask, tone incredulous. The most fucking notorious pirate in the whole damn galaxy has a crew of only seven people? Is this some kind of sick joke? What the actual fuck?

“Surprised, princess?” Seonghwa chuckles at the shock in your tone.

“I expected more,” you mumble.

“You seem to expect a lot from a man you had never met prior to today.” Seonghwa doesn’t give you the opportunity to respond. He walks off without waiting for you, forcing you to play catch up, and San trails after the two of you. “Look alive, ladies!”

The two men at the table glance up at Seonghwa, eyes wide in surprise from the sudden intrusion. Their whispering halts in an instant. Rather than looking at Seonghwa, both sets of eyes land on you.

Just from a quick glance at the one on the right, you can tell that he’s a Berserker. It’s really only because of the red hue to his irises, because otherwise he doesn’t look at all like any of the Berserkers you’ve come into contact with over the years. Nonetheless, he exudes the same intimidating aura that you remember from previous encounters with people of his kind. Head crowned with dark brown hair, he has a slightly boyish look to him, especially compared to the man at his side.

The man in question bears lengthy blonde hair, stained brown at the roots and parted down the middle. He has sharp features that are so symmetrical that it looks at though he was cut from marble. Royal. Or former royal, considering where he is and who he is aligned with. Those sharp eyes bore holes into you, clear and blueish green like the sea you grew up seeing every day.

“Y/N, that’s Jongho on the right, and here on the left is Yeosang. Berserker and Elitist respectively.” The blonde’s class fits his appearance quite well but leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. You’ve never had good experiences with Elitists, especially since the military was overflowing with the Class, but it’s quite odd that an Elitist would be part of a band of pirates. They tend to stay on the right side of the law, which means something about this Yeosang isn’t quite right.

You once again remember exactly where you are and who surrounds you. While you don’t know what Yeosang and Jongho – or San for that matter – are known for, you do know that they are just as dangerous as the Lieutenant of Death on your left.

“You will probably be working with Yeosang quite a bit, perhaps Jongho as well.”

The blonde stands upon hearing Seonghwa’s words and steps around the table to get closer to you. He stares you down, eyes still keeping you rooted to the spot.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ghost of Eros,” he says after a moment of glancing over you. His tone is quiet, soft like silk, yet those eyes remain unblinking and unsettling. “I believe I have you to thank for the death of my former king.” You blink up at him, eyes falling into a narrow glare. He extends an arm in your direction. You barely recognize what he’s doing, but realization washes over you soon enough. It’s the military handshake; a sign of finding fellow soldiers in the field should you be on a covert mission, but Yeosang is using the wrong arm. You blink down at his arm, eyes flitting over his wrist. The skin is raised there, and the delicate pattern of chains rests on the inside of his wrist. You hesitantly meet his with yours, gripping his forearm weakly, and the brand on your own wrist brushes against his.

“Oh, how fancy. Two traitors in one room. Can’t wait to hear them exchange military stories,” San chirps from your side, glancing around your shoulder to watch you and Yeosang interact with interest.

“Aw, if I had known we were doing a meet up with the new girl, I would’ve come sooner!” A new voice resounds behind you. It causes your head to spin, a swirling of confusion, and you stumble back from Yeosang. You would fall if not for his continued grip on your arm. You jerk towards the sound of the voice, eyes finding the new form and recognizing him in an instant. Charcoal hair. Tan skin. Metal collar. It’s the little shit who plugged an anesthesia shot into your neck.

✧✧✧

a/n: hi hello it’s 5 pm on a tuesday yaknow what that means! i hope you all like this chapter, i personally feel like it’s a bit weaker and not a lot happens aofijdoij so im really sorry about that, i hope that the next chapter is better!

i forgOT TAGS IM SORRY

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Text

be careful what you wish for

pairing: Prince!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Historian!Reader

summary: He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. labyrinth AU.

author’s notes: i have the vaguest idea of labyrinths, just depending only on what I already know from literature class and the fics I read. Also, this was an excuse to make said AU, aaaaaaaaaand because I'm a sucker for angst, I wanted to delve and write into this. Mwahahaha This turned out longer than I expected it to be, and I'm worried if I was able to deliver what I wanted to deliver. Eugh. The fact that reader is the adoptive siblings to the Miyas was an accident, because that was intended for another fic but decided to scrap that idea entirely because I have OTHER WIP fics to worry about first. Heh. Finally, I went for Sakusa because I love him and he kinda fits the general idea of this kinda angst (which was inspired by a prompt list for bakudeku originally lol). Also, if the last part seems rather rushed, sorry it's 12:59am here and I want to sleep yet I want to finish this bc I have a lotta other fics to work on.

also available on ao3.

He wished you away. Prince Kiyoomi actually wished you away.

Which was probably for the best, since, in his words were “you’ve been nothing but a hindrance, a pest” and you've been nothing but pathetic, contributing to little with your history and books, doing little to help prosper the kingdom.

And now, here you were: forever stuck in this maze-like dungeon, guarded by a hulking beast for all of eternity.

Fact remains: your first love actually wished you away.

And away you went to some castled walls, far from the kingdom you grew up in, away from civilization, far and away. Away, away, away from it all. Away from him.

Cold, numb, and hollow, tears blurred and streamed down your face through the monster's running, never letting go as you helplessly watch your kingdom shrink from view.

Then he stopped, your tears halted, heart in your throat. Arriving in your destination, it was a surprise when the monster put you down gently, huffing down at you, before leaving you to your lonesome.

(E/c) eyes slowly took in the room you were in - a wide room, marbled floors, fizzled candles in elegant stands, a plush-lookng canopy bed in the middle, with draperies made from the finest silk, there was an antechamber connecting to a library filled to the brim with books, another antechamber leading to a bath. It was a lot to take in. And strangely enough, it looked like it was waiting for a host to live in.

Shaken and raw from the events that occurred, it was only the sound of clanging iron doors that brought you out of your stupor, rushing towards the doors, shaking, banging, yelling helplessly, and begging to be free.

Huffing lowly the horned-monster disappeared into the corners of darkness, your cries falling on deaf ears.

The first few nights were spent crying.

Crying for you missed your books. Crying for you missed your apprentice and students. Crying because you missed your friends in the palace. Crying because you missed that little boy who sneaks into your room, begging for stories of time beyond him. Crying because you missed Big Brother Osamu, checking in to ensure there was something in your stomach. Crying because you missed fighting with Big Brother Atsumu. Crying because you missed chatting with Motoya. Crying because you missed the handsome visage, the aloof, sarcastic, cutting, yet gracefulness of your dear friend - Kiyoomi.

Crying because he wished you away, far, far away.

Night and day, you spent crying. So many tears were shed, too many had been dried up. Not only did you cry on the outside, but so were you on the side. Your whimpering echoing through your empty prison. Your throat had been hoarse from being used up, wailing for nobody.

Nobody was there to hear you cry, nor were there people to console you.

Alone.

Alone did you cry, alone did you suffer.

Denying everything and anything that was happening to you.

Why you? Why? What had you done? All you did was research on the country's past, pouring hours and hours in your books, often writing drafts and exchanging theories and discoveries - was that so wrong? Why you? You didn't deserve this! No! No!!!!!!!

You could deny your destiny all you want but at the end of the day, you were still imprisoned and by your lonesome. You were here. Nobody else. You.

Denying didn't change the fact that this was your reality now.

And soon, denial bled into acceptance.

Resigning to your hate, you could only feel tears start anew.

You were never to see your family again, let alone leave and see the outside world.

You would never see little Romero again.

You would never gush with your apprentice again about new discoveries and strategies, nor have educational debates with visiting historians.

You would never delight in sweets with the older Sakusas for afternoon tea.

You would never laugh with Motoya again.

You would never see Kiyoomi again.

With a heavy heart, you accepted it.

But it doesn't mean it'll hurt any less, the same way that it didn’t change the fact that your first love, the second Prince of Itachiyama, wished you away.

He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. It was just a rash thing he said because he was tired of people prying into his personal life, of people making decisions for him, and probably his fear and frustration that you were slipping away from him.

His status as the crowned prince meant that a lot was expected from him, even though his older brother was expected to inherit the throne. But his brother was never one for battle - too focused on politics and his people, neither was his sister - who fared better in navigation, so Kiyoomi was set to become the commander of the Royal Guard. It was a given since he born and bred for it. His skill and strategic mind were not to be underestimated, as he's led the kingdom to many victories and earned the respect of kings, generals, nobles, and soldiers. His prominent fame eventually caught on different aspects of his life, so it was only a matter of time before marriage was brought into the discussion.

Try as he might, he was a royal and these were inevitable. That doesn't mean he likes people prying into his private life, disliked it even more, when they began to question his relationships - especially with you, the royal historian.

A well-regarded historian, who practiced a bit of politics, you were someone he sought before deciding to go to war or for just a friendly debate over philosophy and strategies. What you thought of his strategies mattered a lot to him, he held your opinions over anyone's in the castle - even to his own parents. It wasn't to say because you were childhood friends, but he recognized your abilities as a historian. You did a lot of things, aside from chronicling the day-to-day life of royals. You were unique, for you were keen on gaining knowledge and voiced your ideas and opinions, never fearful and always respectable to whoever you were talking to.

That, and because of your closeness, became the reason that you became a target for many, for them to keep an eye on you. Sakusa knew this, tried to let it die. But the crowned prince had been too naive to the workings of twisting tales.

And then, marriage proposals were coming in. Left and right, people were badgering him. Not a moment's rest when they were on the brink of war for god's sake! He was not interested, leaving the proposals unanswered for all he cared.

One summer's night, a ball had been prepared to celebrate the foundation of their kingdom. As expected, visiting dignitaries and royals were invited.

("Chatterboxes who don't really have a place in this palace except a name," he'd mutter under his breath, you laugh at his comment.)

As the royal historian, you were expected and had been dressed in the finest clothes, a gift from his older sister - who absolutely fawned and adored you. Dressed in his royal robes, he felt the need to get on his knees, undeserving to be in the presence of such beauty.

In a sea full of royals and socialites, you were the prettiest thing he has ever laid eyes on, easily besting and outshining everyone.

This was the one night he was supposed to tell you how he felt about you, social status be damned, he only cared and has eyes for you and you alone.

In hushed whispers, gossip crept through the castle walls, snaking its way to each and every ear, poising and tainting their image of you. People began talking, eyes darting between him and the unsuspecting girl, who was laughing with an ambassador.

Suddenly, the whispers reached his ears, tainting his thoughts.

"Kiyoomi?" you whispered, tone laced with worry. Discreetly following after him when he pulled away from speaking with some ambassadors, you brought with you a goblet filled with water, fingers splaying over. "Are you alright?"

At the sight of you, he relaxed. Slightly. "No," bringing his fingers to his face, he massaged at his throbbing temples.

Taking a step closer, you held out the water, which he took graciously and took a small sip, eyes gazing out into the night with you next to him, not saying a word.

Behind you two, the loud music and fanfare went about. Camaraderie abounded inside that ballroom, glitz, and glamour just filling and living to their fullest as the night went on. However, on that balcony, there was nothing but silence - the silence one desperately sought for, the silence one could offer along with a companion who understood the need for said silence.

You didn't say anymore then, letting the silence fill in, working on a small smile when he looked your way and he appreciated you for it. This way, away from it all, under the moonlight, he could appreciate your beauty even more.

But it didn't last long.

One minute, you were joking about how gaudy people were dressed tonight, the next you were discussing Kiyoomi's battle plans and possible alliance with the Shiratorizawa kingdom, notorious for their undeniable power and might. They started as a small kingdom, which vastly grew over the years. Personally, you've met and been acquainted with them when they visited and enjoyed debates with Satori, Kenjirou, and even the emperor's son, Wakatoshi. Kiyoomi held said man to a high regard, never shutting up about his feats and skills. This was worrisome because Shiratorizawa was becoming especially unyielding when it comes to conquering neighbouring kingdoms - likes their recent dispute with Aoba Johsai and Karaunso, caring very little in casualties. Kiyoomi was quick to defend Wakatoshi, never minding the lives that were ignored during their rise to power, or your obvious discomfort of such alliance.

"So, I'm the bad guy now? For wanting what's best for my people?"

"What you want is war with defenseless people, in an unfair and one-sided war that'll only lead to bloodshed," you reasoned. "I just think you should rethink it, or at least have terms."

"There is nothing to rethink and no terms to talk about," his voice rises, his temper rising. "As royal historian, you should know at least that this alliance is promising and will yield results for the betterment of our kingdoms."

"You're forgetting that history is a philosophy that teaches by example," you quote, hands curling into fists. "I just don't want you making the same mistake-"

"I don't make mistakes, I make results." Something cracked in the darkness, his eyes warranting a scary drip of pride.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"What would you know about wars and alliances anyway?"

Swallowing, you stood your ground, turning to face him. "Plenty. Enough to tell you, that as the royal historian, one mustn't needlessly push through with alliances without thinking them through first. Yes, it may yield good results but at the cost of many? I don't think so." A cold gust of wind blew, clouds rumbling overhead. "And as your friend, I worry about how rash you're being just because of Wakatoshi-"

Kiyoomi scoffed, actually scoffed at you, incredulously at how ludicrous your words were.

"God, could you be any more pretentious? Not everything is as easy as you make it!"

"Kiyoomi, stop-"

"What would you know? I wish you'd just be taken away, far away because I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a hindrance and a pest to this kingdom's chances of glory. I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a pest and a hindrance. I've clearly wasted all those years of educating you for a rather ignorant mind."

"You don't mean that,"

"Maybe, I do!" he yelled, throwing the goblet away, his voice was able to catch the attention of people nearby. "You think you know everything, just because of your books that talks about dead people-"

"Kiyoomi-"

"-then you talk to me as though I haven't learned about them and disregard the fact that I’m trying to be better than them-“

“I know, Kiyoomi, I know-“

“Shut up, you don’t know! Just like you don’t know a thing outside your books, it’s not always as it was written! You don’t know just how difficult it is to really man an army, let alone try to make efforts to ensure that we make it out alive. You wouldn’t understand how weary the job is at the end of the day, because you’re happy being in the castle surrounded by your books all day. You wouldn’t understand, so just leave this to me,” overhead, thunder rumbled loudly, ferociously. Kiyoomi took a step, you took a step back. “Stop nagging me over things I already know!”

Lower lip quivering, you bit down, chin held up high as you asked. “D-Don’t my opinions matter to you, Kiyoomi?” it was a question laced with hurt, enough to guilt him, but Kiyoomi didn’t yield.

“Just stop!” his breathing was shaking, harsh. Consumed completely by anger, frustration, and fear, his eyes met yours, voice cold as he said, “I wish that you were taken away, there’s no place in the palace for someone so ignorant and a hindrance to the prosperity we’re guaranteed to have. If you can’t join us, you might as well be a pest.”

Famous last words.

Something compelled him to say it, he couldn't stop himself and the words just went out.

Fear, frustration, anger, all pushed him to his boiling point.

Twin pools of (e/c) widened, slowly filling with pain and tears, stopping him cold.

All the words he’s said comes crashing over him, regret quickly followed. Kiyoomi pales, feeling cold all over.

“(Y/N)-“

And then came chaos.

Crashing in uninvited, wildly wreaking havoc with little regard of who was in the way. Panic screaming, yelling, and thrashing.

And then, it lifted its head. To the balcony. Its blank eyes dilating, narrowing at the sight of you.

Kiyoomi only had a moment to realize what was going to happen before it was too late.

One moment, the horned-monster was in the middle of the dance floor. The next, it was barrelling its way towards the two of you, pushing anyone in its path, destroying the doors, grabbing you harshly, and throwing you over its shoulder, all in one second. Kiyoomi hadn't realized that he had been pushed away, blood matting his hair, his robes–

"(Y/N)!" but it was too late, the Minotaur was speeding away with you in its grasp.

Shakily, he tried to get to his feet, only to fumble.

“(Y/N)…”

He tried again.

"(Y/N)..."

And again.

"(Y/N)..."

Again.

Slumping against the ground, his eyes never left the direction the Minotaur left with you in tow.

'I wish you were taken away...'

Twin pools of (e/c). Broken. Destroyed. Humiliated. Tears flowing.

He couldn’t focus. Nothing was right. No. Nothing felt right. Something tightened in his chest. Breathe. Breathe. How do you breathe again? Plink! Something wet fell down on him, wetting his hair, his robes, blood smearing on the marbled floors. Blood. That was his blood. He hit his head. His blood. Blood smeared. To his hands – since when had he fallen to his knees? And screaming. Anguish. Pain. Regret. Screaming. Wait, was somebody screaming?

Oh, wait.

It was him.

He was on his knees.

He was screaming.

Screaming through the pouring rain as he bled.

Dread washed over him when he realized that his wish had been granted, you were whisked away by a beast and never to be seen again.

You slipped away from him, only because he wished for it.

The labyrinth was a rather large domain.

Massive concrete walls, quiet stones that suffocated you with silence, enough to drive you mad. A maze that was endless in its length, wide in its berth, and dizzying to traverse.

Many were the days you spent roaming around, in high hopes you've found an exit, only to find yourself in a dead-end. Many were the days where you practically rammed yourself into walls, hoping for a secret exit. Many were the days where you hoped, that if you crashed hard enough or hit yourself hard enough, you'd wind up unconscious, never to wake again. Dead. You didn't want to stay here forever.

But one day, as you were walking about, you happened upon the strangest thing - a garden. A hidden garden, to be exact.

Walking towards and through the archway, you were greeted with something that was a sight for weary eyes. A lush garden, filled to the brim with blossoming flowers as far as the eye can see. And fruit trees! The rarest you can find and have only heard of from stories. It stretched the whole area that you almost forgot that you couldn't tell if it was closed in by the labyrinth's high walls.

Taking a step in, bare feet meeting the damp grass, for the first time in what seems like forever, you broke into a shaky, wet laugh. Hands covering your mouth as you walked further in, uncaring. (E/c) eyes were filled with tears anew, tears of joy.

The air was fragrant, sweet, comforting. Flowers, colorful flowers in different shapes and sizes painted the gardens with vibrant colors and life.

Alive, the garden was alive, buzzing dragonflies, fluttering butterflies, and other smaller insects.

Feeling something warm kiss your sigh, you made a shaky sound - a gasp. Slowly, you began to breathe. Sighing, you craned your head up to meet the sky up above you. Squinting, your eyes fell shut, soaking it in.

You were probably up in the highest tower, for you were encased in a glass ceiling, allowing the sun to shed its light down on you, on the greenery.

The garden was spectacular, almost like the ones in the castle.

You lost track of time, but you didn’t care. This little heaven was all that you had, even if it were lonely.

Many were the days, with tear-dried face, did you wonder if you were going to go insane in here. Many were the days spent memorizing paths – some were useful, like the way to your chambers and the garden, while many paths proved useless, meaningless. Like the labyrinth knew you’d want to find a way out, giving you nothing.

Acceptance bled from denial.

However pretty your prison was, sadly, you remind yourself again, Kiyoomi wished you away.

A bruised cheek and a split lip. To many, injuries would be a badge of honor to satisfy their male ego. But for Prince Kiyoomi, they might as well be a badgeof dishonor. And for two good reasons - each came from your adoptive brothers, Atsumu's having the most hits since he was the oldest, boiling with rage after finding out that his youngest sister was taken away because of him. Crowned prince be damned, Atsumu would gladly beat him black and blue, had Bokuto not stopped and held him back.

Osamu would surely help, without a doubt. The punch he delivered was undoubtedly was painful. And that was it, followed by a long, cold, hard stare and nothing else. Miya Osamu was always known to be the calmer twin with a filter to his language and could be just as vile with his words as his twin. But his silence, that long, cold, hard stare was enough. His silent gaze was burning enough, a thousand words dying to be said that cut through thanks to his fist. A split lip and message received.

You were too good for him, that much the twins knew.

You were sweet, headstrong, brave, and annoyingly book smart, but still way too good for someone like the third crowned prince of Itachiyama.

Atsumu didn't like it that his (self-proclaimed) rival and commanding officer was romantically tied to his beloved sister. Osamu doesn't give a shit, so long as you were happy, but he was miffed by the fact that he was royalty.

"It's so cliche," he'd tell you, brandishing some rice balls in three different variants. "he's a prince, you're a commoner. That in itself is a recipe for disaster."

Unamused with your older brother's words, you eyed the rice balls in his tray before taking the one in the middle, wolfing without thinking. "Yum!"

"Oi, listen to yer brothers when we're talkin'!" yelled Atsumu, who grabbed the other onigiri, spitting rice everywhere.

"You piece of shit for a brother, don't talk with your mouth full!" but rice also flew everywhere from when you opened your mouth.

Sighing, Osamu took the last onigiri for himself, taking bites as the two of you fought.

Kiyoomo, who had just arrived, could only watch as the Miya siblings fought amongst themselves before the argument died down and you were all laughing at something. Without a doubt, the twins loved you, even though you weren't blood-related.

Looking up, you waved at him with a wide, warm, welcoming smile. Osamu inclined his head, a sort of bow. Atsumu coolly two-finger saluted him, his commanding officer by the way.

Osamu trusted him.

Atsumu trusted him.

They trusted him.

And what did they get? A brokenhearted sister who's now held captive somewhere.

He deserved it, Kiyoomi knew without a doubt that he deserved it and more.

After all, who wishes their childhood friend away?

Who wishes the person they're madly in love with away?

With badges of dishonor brandishing his face, Prince Kiyoomi set out on a quest: to find and rescue you. No matter what.

As far as the books you've read have told, Minotaurs were supposed to be blood-thirsty creatures who devoured on sacrifices kept in the labyrinth. But this Minotaur was different. First of all, it appeared out of nowhere. There had been countless sightings of strange creatures within and outside the kingdom, but they'd been territorial and respectable of keeping their distance from humans. And through your desperate walks around he maze, there were no signs of bones, of any sacrifices that legends told you the creature devoured of. Nothing.

Instead, the creature was just there. Tall. Hulking. Intimidating. Silent. Watching.

When you saw each other, it just stared. It didn't try to stop you, because only it knew the way out, and no way was he willing to let you escape.

It didn't seem to have a master, either.

It just was.

Day in and day out, it was just there.

Unnerving you.

You knew you'd never escape.

Many of your days were spent in the gardens. Sometimes in your room, with a comfortable bed, a warm hearth, and all the books you could read to your heart's desire, and a single gilded narrow window. In the garden, the window was up above you, far within your reach even if you climbed the trees. As though it were a reminder.

Sometimes, when you stared too long at the windows, you could hear the Minotaur huffing behind you, almost laughingly. Mockingly.

Pretty as your prison was, so long as the beast lingered, you knew you weren't safe forever.

Perhaps it was biding its time? Waiting on you to accept death, surrender to it before it could do it's bidding? Maybe it just wanted a dame to lure victims in wanting a chance to prove their heroism? Or maybe it just wanted you to share fate, to stay here in this maze forever? You couldn't escape even if you tried anyway.

Ferocious as he was, the horned-beast saw to it that you were fed, bringing you meals during breakfast, lunch, dinner. Occasionally, he’d bring some fruits. At times, some books and gifts to keep you entertained. When your dress – the beautiful dress the older Sakusa gave you that night – was tattered, ruined, he had given you a new one. It was a wonder where he got these gifts.

“Thank you,” (e/c) eyes turned to the hulking creature, who huffed in response, then left.

Denial bled into acceptance.

If this was your fate forever, then so be it.

After all, Sakusa wished you away for it.

As disappointed as he was in his cousin, Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin completely.

With a brother and sister, both of which who were much older than him, they were all busy learning how to run the castle. His parents were no exception either, as the king and queen of the kingdom. Kiyoomi spent so much of his time alone, growing rather quiet and aloof with his surroundings.

Luckily, the Komori family was there, Motoya was right by his side. But Kiyoomi was still quiet and a bit of a snob.

That was until the Miyas arrived.

The Miyas, who came from the west with two strapping young boys and an adopted bright-eyed girl. They worked around the palace as smith and cook, respectively, the twins always bickering amongst themselves while the youngest quietly tended to her books. More often than not, she'd sneak off to the royal library and read.

Motoya remembered seeing her deep in the library, nose stuck to the book as her eyes glimmered with life, drinking in information with scary speed. She was on her third book. He was with Kiyoomi then, the two were doing self-study, but stopped at the sight of the strange Miya girl.

The next day, Kiyoomi asked for her name. “Miya (Y/N),” she said, tucking a book under her arms, bowing slightly, before walking away, books in tow. Probably to return them.

The day after, she was joining in their self-study, often debating about the histories she read with him, which ended up as a full-blown discussion not even part of their studies!

The next, next, next day, she wasn't there, having been scolded for running off too much to read her books. However, Kiyoomi came to her defense, and (Y/N) was granted access to the library. She eventually caught the attention of the royal librarian before taking the little girl under her wing. Never had Motoya seen (e/c) eyes shine so bright that they rivaled the best jewels some snobby royals had. Later that day, as her older brothers were fighting amongst themselves (for possibly the nth time) and he and his cousin were passing by, (Y/N) saw and ran up to them and did the impossible: she tackled Kiyoomi into a hug! Motoya, and the Miya twins, stared in shock. Nobody just hugs the prince like that, he doesn't like to be touched! Nobody!

But Kiyoomi just stood there, taking in the hug, arms awkwardly raised to the smaller girl's form, before decidedly resting on hand on her shoulder, and the other to pat her head. Not one ounce of disgust registered on his cousin's face. Instead, he saw a soft smile, his onyx eyes warm at the girl.

And the rest was history.

Over time, (Y/N) had proven herself with her studies - as her brothers had proven themselves as well as soldiers, showing promise with each passing. Motoya was amazed by her academic prowess, her sound mind, and cunning demeanor, no wonder she wounded up as the royal historian. He'd like to think his cousin played a role in there somewhere. More often than not, Kiyoomi would endorse her to his teachers, her ideas and opinions, too.

It was no secret that since her promotion, Kiyoomi would always seek her out.

It was no secret either that, eventually, the older Sakusa siblings would hear about infamous Miya (Y/N) and fawn over her.

It was no secret either that Kiyoomi only his eyes for her, having been his cousin’s close-confident regarding confusing feelings and possessiveness over her. For someone who always saw things through, who absolutely refused to do anything half-assed, Motoya made sure to poke at his cousin’s rather slow pace with her. Kiyoomi would reason that the timing was never there, because of his duties, and he didn’t want her to get caught in the drama brewing amongst castle chatterboxes. He wanted to protect her from that. Yet he failed.

Guilt was written all over Kiyoomi’s face the night (Y/N) had been taken away. Unflinching from the cold rain, the blood in his hands, his head injury, Kiyoomi just looked…blank.

Since her disappearance, his cousin was a living doll, he barely slept, barely ate, and barely even cleaned himself!

Worried, Motoya saw to it himself that his cousin was taken care of. His parents would send maids to ensure he'd leave the room. His older brother would personally check in with him and talk. His older sister would rush in and forcibly take him to walks in the garden or get him to bathe. Later, Osamu would send him food to eat. Atsumu came by a few days later, pissed still at his superior, but asked him if he had any orders. Slowly but surely, he was getting on his feet. But at the end of the day, Kiyoomi would buckle from it all and just exist.

He was like a living doll, with no function, no purpose. Nothing. It was unbecoming of him.

Everything seemed pointless now.

How did the Great Commander of Itachiyama's Royal Gaurd fall so hard? Simple, it was because of her.

(Y/N) was always his greatest weakness just as she was his greatest strength. Only, he took it for granted.

Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin, for he knew, probably more than anyone else in the castle, how much he hated himself for what happened.

If there was one thing he knew about his cousin, it's that once he starts something, he'll be so fixated on it and ensures he finishes it through. And with his dying breath, swearing even on his sword, his life, he would- no, he will find (Y/N) and bring her back.

“Kiyoomi?” he asked, entering his cousin’s office after two knocks.

Motoya stopped at the door, noticing the maps scattered around his usually kept desk, along with some notes written in messy, familiar penmanship, the look in his cousin’s eyes.

“Motoya,” he glanced up briefly, shoulders straightening, hands planted on each side of the desk.

“Do you have any leads?” the brunet starts, walking further in.

And Motoya would be there, to help him bring his heart back.

At night, you see him in your dreams.

Intimidating, tall, handsome, wearing that rare smile of his, one that reached his eyes. A secret-like smile, one he shared for those who were worthy of it.

Kiyoomi would be sitting by the pavilion in the castle gardens, watching you across him, head titled slightly, before his lips curled.

And then you’d wake up.

Immediately, your hands fetched for your books, a pencil, to sketch him before your memory of the dream fades – finely shaped jaw, twin beauty marks over his left eye, thick curls, inquisitive dark eyes, long nose, supple lips, his rare smile- only to pause. Stop. Then cry.

Tears starting anew, you looked down at your sketch – of Sakusa Kiyoomi smiling at you, breaking into a watery laugh, free hand shakily touching your sketch. “K-Kiyoomi…”

Dropping the sketch, you covered your mouth with one hand, the other fisted over your heart.

What was the point?

You loved him for the longest time. You’ve been stuck in this one-sided love for your childhood friend for as long as you can remember.

But as the crowned prince, and soon-to-be great commander of the Royal Guard, something as trivial as a romance - with the royal historian of all people, a person with questionable ancestry? It was not meant to be.

Had you been given a chance between taking you away forever and forgetting him forever, you would gladly choose the latter.

Because nothing hurts more than to remember every day that the person you love wished you away, crushing your heart and everything inside. At least when you forget, so will the feelings, leaving you hollow and numb. Ready to start anew.

You were sure he was happiest with your disappearance, finally getting the chance to be closer to Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa, solidifying the alliance.

You did miss Komori. Your adopted brothers. Your friends. Your apprentice. Your home.

But they were gone now, soon to be a forgotten memory.

Here you stay and here you shall remain, doom to remember until your dying breath how your love wished you away.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you.

In his dreams, you were a sight to behold in cream, your (h/c) hair freely falling upon your bare shoulders as you poured into another book. When he walks up behind you, he scoops your hair away and plants a kiss to your shoulders, neck, cheek. A light giggle was his reward, curling his lips upward before he was met with (e/c) eyes.

You were so beautiful.

A sight to behold.

You'd say his name ever so lightly, gently, warmly, and with love. The only way he knew his name should be called leaving your plump lips. Plump lips that looked so inviting and endearing, making him want to lean in-

And then he'd wake up.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you. A lot.

Has been for the last 18 years of his life.

Has been for the past year you've been taken from him.

In his dreams, you would be in his arms.

But in reality, you were taken away from him.

All because he wished you away.

It was a plain and simple reminder that you had to remember: he was a prince, you were the royal historian. Nothing more, nothing less.

You didn’t come from royalty like him, so he was out of your reach. You could love him, but what good is the love of a lowly peasant girl? A girl with questionable origins, plucked from the ruins by kindly gentlefolk who took her in?

Even though you were regarded as a genius, strategic in mind that rivaled that of the crowned prince, you were still just a peasant. Someone was regal like Kiyoomi deserved nothing but the best.

Despite having your heartbroken, you smiled at Kiyoomi, eyes filled with so much love. Not knowing that it would be the last time he’d see you.

Later that night, in front of his constituents, brought by frustration and fear of his position and of your social classes, Prince Sakusa rashly wishes for you to be taken away. Not a second later, a Minotaur comes crashing in to take you away. Forever.

Wish granted.

There were many things he regrets.

One of them being missing the chance to press his lips to yours under the rain, a rather picturesque and romantic-setting, had it not been for the fact that he accidentally napped in the palace training grounds and you were happily playing under the rain before finding him.

He still remembered your laugh, a saccharine tune that was pure bliss to listen to. Your smile, it illuminated your face, brightening the dreary downpour, warmed his insides. “Kiyoomi, get up! This is no place for the crowned prince to lie down!” Taking him by the hand, he tugged you to take shelter and he let you.

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts. “what’s the royal historian doing getting herself wet?”

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at him. “I needed a break.”

“And you think getting wet under the pouring rain warrants as break?”

“I love the rain!” you laugh, bright smile splitting open your lips and your (e/c) eyes shining brightly. Reaching a hand out, Kiyoomi watched as the smile remained on your face, watching the droplets on your outstretched hand.

Silent, the crowned prince silently set his eyes in the way your (h/c) hair darkened in the rain, your dress was soaked, yet you had laughed, carelessly, a bright and gentle sound that was threatened to drown out in the thundering downpour. Dark eyes slowly took the slope of your neck, mapping your collarbones, trailing a droplet of rain that slithered down the smooth expanse of your neck.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, shaking his head slightly, dark curls shaking with him. He heard you laugh, sounding closer.

You had leaned in, playfully poking his two beauty marks before tucking wet curls away. Entranced by you, something inside him started, dizzying, confusing, satisfying. He caught your hands in his, bringing them to his cheeks, revelling, leaning into your touch. Ever so gently, he planted his lips on the center of your palm. Breath hitching, you were unable to look away. Kiyoomi’s eyes opened slowly to meet yours, the thundering in your chest increasing. There was soft, loving, endearing look in both your eyes, something both you wondering. Only a breath away, Kiyoomi slowly leaned in, your eyes fluttering close, waiting. And he would have kissed you then and there, had Atsumu not showed up and cut the mood.

The next day, he drilled the blond bastard harder than the rest.

But the one thing Kiyoomi regrets the most was wishing you away, for he never got the chance to tell you he loved you.

Books lined and filled the room, there was a disarray of scrolls, notes, and opened books scattered on the floor, the table. And there you were, pouring words into your notebook with your sleeves pulled up, stray hair escaping your upswept (h/c) hair - messy, curious, beautiful you.

"You have ink in your fingers," he says, as a way of greeting.

Looking up, your expression breaks into a beautified smile, "Kiyoomi!" realizing what he said, you looked around, then laughed nervously at your state. Grabbing a random cloth off the chair closest to you, you wiped at your fingers, walking around to meet him. "To what do I owe the crowned prince the honor?"

He rolls his eyes at your politeness, as though you haven't been friends since you were younger.

"I had a feeling you would be spending hours on the procured books on the Great Backyard Battle between Nekoma and Karasuno. Meaning, you'd be missing out on lunch." At this, he poked the space between your brows. Hard.

“Ow!”

“I’ve sent for lunch. Join me.”

Rubbing at your forehead, your face morphs into a sly grin. “Aww, you could just say you miss me, y’know~”

There were still remnants of ink on your fingers, because you smeared some over your forehead. With a roll – graceful roll, as you put it, he grabs the cloth, turns it to the clean side, and gently rubs the ink off your forehead.

“How are your hands always this dirty?”

“Kiyoomi, I’m not ready for that kinda joke,” you giggle when he’s finished, blowing into laughter when he throws the cloth into your face.

By the day, you were becoming cheekier like your brothers. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling the cloth away, you inspect your relatively clean fingers, showing them to him. Unamused, he humored you by inspecting them closely.

“Clean enough for ya?”

“It will do. But I will ask the servants for a wash or utensils.”

You reply with a giggle, falling in step with your dear friend out your study.

With ink in your fingers, rumpled clothes, and messy hair, to him, you'd still be the most beautiful woman his eyes have ever seen.

Lonely were the nights spent by your lonesome, with nothing like companionship to fill the silence, to quell the fear, to steady your sanity. Yet, here you were. Still. By some miracle.

Books had been your constant companion all your life, feeding your ever curious mind. They were relative company, but not enough to satisfy your loneliness.

The garden, thriving with life and wonder, had lots to offer. Adorning flowers, gentle little insects, they were almost a reminder of life. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Lonely were the days that came by, yet somehow, you managed through.

Managing through keeping yourself sane.

Managing through the fear of your impending doom at the hands of the Minotaur.

Managing through the ache deep inside your chest.

Night-time befell, unable to sleep, you headed to the gardens.

A full moon was out tonight, big and bright. And yet, it seemed alone, like you.

Under the moonlight, you cry and pray.

Crying for the ones you've left behind – your family, friends, students, praying that they may be well.

Crying for your kingdom, praying that it may prosper.

Crying for yourself, praying that you can still manage by.

Crying for your love, praying that he may find happiness.

Denial bled into acceptance.

Prince Sakusa Kiyoomi, Third Prince of Itachiyama Kingdom and Royal Guard Commander, your first love, wished you away.

Finally, after days, months, and little over a year of searching, he found a lead.

Without wasting a second, he arranged his best men – Atsumu first to call for duty, followed by Osamu, who quickly put on his uniform and begged to join – and set forth.

It wasn’t an easy mission.

Kozume, the oracle, wasn’t lying when he said the road would be perilous, treacherous, and tested even the strongest minds. But he wasn’t commander of the Royal Guard for nothing.

Plowing enemy after enemy, never faltering and always on their guard, his men proved that they were best of the best, in leagues with the greatest fighters in the land - akin to jackals hungry for their next prey.

Even after years of quitting the army, Osamu was a force to deal with on the battlefield, especially with Atsumu. The Miya twins, the deadliest forces to deal with, truly a sight to behold.

Whatever came their way, they pushed through.

When night-time befell, you wandered off to the gardens, unable to sleep for some reason.

Unbeknownst to you, the Minotaur had turned its head and growled under its breath. Lifting its head up, huffing angrily, readily.

“I’ll go,” Kiyoomi told his men, eyes never leaving the tall walls before them.

“I’ll come,” Atsumu says, nearly bouncing on his feet, Osamu, a bundle of nervous energy beside him. Bokuto, Hinata, Meian, Inunaki, Thomas, stood by, waiting for orders. The walls in front of them were intimidating, yet as Motoya looked at his cousin, he was surprised yet unsurprised at the same time to see that Kiyoomi seemed…determined.

“No,” Kiyoomi said, firm and stern. Without looking back, he took a step forward. “I’ll go. Alone.”

There was no moon out tonight, you thought with a heavy sigh.

How lonely.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you heaved another heavy sigh, chin tucked in, as you gazed out to the stars.

As the oracle had warned, traversing into the labyrinth won’t be easy as trials awaits him at every turn.

Kiyoomi didn’t falter at his warning, not once.

Even when he was faced with goblins.

Even when hands began to emerge from the walls, reaching for him.

Even when the walls started to close in.

Even when the walls started talking, trying to goad him to leave, escape, give up.

He didn’t budge, not even once.

Through it all, Kiyoomi had to make use of his wit to beat the labyrinth.

Kozume never said anything about beating the labyrinth, giving him little to nothing. But then, he understood you can’t beat it, you just have to outsmart it.

So when the labyrinth began a new tactic, riddling the prince at each turn, Kiyoomi met the challenge head-on.

Nothing will stop him, not even these trivial challenges that try to undermine him.

Nothing shall stand in his way.

He was a man on a mission, everything else was in his way.

Orion. The hunter. Ursa Major. The Big Bear. Ursa Minor. The Little Bear. Bitterly, sadly, you found the Northern Crown.

Draco. The dragon. Lyra. The lyre. Canis Minor. The Little Dog. Pegasus. The Winged Horse. Cygnus. The Northern Cross.

Andromeda. The Chained Princess.

The story of a princess chained to pay for her mother’s demise was one that fascinated you as a child, especially because the princess had to await her demise at the hands of some monster only to be rescued by a hero.

Oh, what a naïve little child you were–

A shooting star.

Something in you shifts, then settles, a breathless laugh leaving your lips as you hugged your folded knees tighter.

Was it wishful thinking if you wished you could be like Andromeda and be saved? Or were you still naïve?

And there it was, the Minotaur.

Hulking, maddening like he remembered that night.

The night it took away (Y/N).

It was big, bigger than anything he’s ever faced. And strong, too.

With a flick of its arm, Kiyoomi was on the side of the balcony, hitting his head against the wall. It was also fast.

However, that doesn’t mean he would yield, nor would he surrender.

He tightened his grip on his sword, expression hardened, darkened at the sight of it.

He trained like crazy after that night, worked himself to the bone to match the crazy stamina levels of one Hinata Shouyo, and strength of Bokuto Koutarou. Precision and skills were his greatest feats, but he had to be cunning and nasty like that of Miya Atsumu. Also, he had to be reserved and patient, like that of Miya Osamu.

Before him, the Minotaur let out a mighty roar, echoing through the walls, dragging its hooves readily.

Kiyoomi never let go of his sword, neither did he drop his gaze at the Minotaur.

The air was thick, heady.

A beat.

And then they both charged.

“Hey, Tsumu-Tsumu, Myaa-Sam?”

The fire crackled in front of them, burning the iron pot above it, the smell of beef stew filling in.

“Do you think Omi can save (Y/N)-chan?”

The dark-haired twin stopped stirring the pot, the blonde-dyed twin stared into the fire, clasped hand gripping tighter. A brown-haired man perked at the sound of his cousin’s name, watching the men in silence.

The fire danced, wood snapping once, then twice, before it broke into two.

And then, “What kinda stupid questions is that, Bokkun?” Atsumu smirks.

“No one’s crazy enough like him, too,” Osamu added, dropping a few spices in.

Motoya smiled, honored on behalf of his cousin at the twins’ words.

Carefully, the lid was placed in, leaving a little space for the stew to simmer for few more minutes.

A dull pain hummed in his head, followed by a sharp pain that was sure to be from a broken rib. Breathing in was torturous, heaving laboring breaths through his nose and out his mouth.

Before him, the horned-beast huffed, sporting the stabs Kiyoomi had given him.

Yet, it stood there still while he was worse for wear.

The oracle's words rang through his head again, warning him that going in was the same as wishing for a death sentence.

And yet, Kiyoomi willingly accepted in, knowing full well of the risks and consequences - because he's had a whole year to think about them from the hollowness of his chest.

You were the one thing that kept him going.

You were the light in the dark.

You were a beacon he was desperate to follow.

You were the only thing that mattered.

Getting to his feet, ignoring how his body screamed in pain, he lifted his sword.

Angered, Minotaur charged again, head lowered, horns ready to skewer him.

Kiyoomi didn't move, only shifted his position.

When it was close enough, he raised his sword.

"Hey, Kiyoomi?"

"What,"

"If there was one thing in the world that you could have, what would it be?"

"..."

"Like, you could ask for anything - power, gold, magical abilities, a nice exotic pet, what would it be?"

"..."

"Oh? What a silence."

"What a question,"

"Well? What would you want?"

"Umeboshi."

"Kiyoomi, you're just playing with me aren't you?"

It shouldn't be a question, because he already knew the answer.

You.

All Kiyoomi ever wanted in the whole world was you.

And there you were.

Basked in the moonlight, your (h/c) was longer, falling over your frame, barefooted on the grass – looking like a goddess.

His chest heaves heavily with every exhale, weary from his long battle with the Minotaur, never minding the pain and bruises, all he could see was you.

You.

After all this time.

"(Y/N)..."

You looked up in surprise, his voice cutting through the silence, and got to your feet. Staring at him in shock.

It's been so long.

Too long.

Far too long.

A year and a half was long enough for him to meet your (e/c) eyes, to see your face, to be in the same room.

"K-Kiyoomi..."

He felt his heart beating, coming to life.

Dropping his sword, letting it clatter to the ground, he slowly walked, staggering in his steps, until he was in front of you.

What an image, a knight in shining armor, bloodied and bruised- did he kill the Minotaur?!

His hair was longer, slightly greasy, you noticed in shock. He was no way vain, but he liked to look clean and proper. But since you’ve been gone, he’s forgotten to take care of himself.

Suddenly, fear gnawed at his heart, remembering the last time he saw you, remembering the last words he said to you. Did you hate him? Did you fear him?

“Kiyoomi!”

And then, you were in each other’s arms, breaking down and crying, holding each other so tight in fear that someone or something would tear you two together again. Both of you collapsed to your knees, refusing to let the other go.

Kiyoomi’s cries were silent, but the relief that washed over him from a year’s worth of guilt and regret, of finally having you in his arms, it made was indescribable.

“(Y/N),” he says your name, like it’s the holiest thing to say, his saving grace. “(Y/N)!”

Hearing your name in his voice, after so long, it made you cry even harder. Kiyoomi kept holding you as you cried, rocking you back and forth.

Something hot and wet lands on your head, followed by Kiyoomi’s voice repeatedly saying your name.

Sorry, he wants to say ‘I’m sorry’, but the words were lodged in his throat. He wants to apologize, desperately apologize for hurting her. He wants to get on his knees.

Instead, he cries into her shoulder, relief continues to wash over him because he’s hugging you again, feeling you in his arms again and hearing your cries.

Pulling away, hands desperately clung to the other’s face – smoothing through the skin, memorizing the feel beneath their fingers, eyes drinking them in.

Finally, Kiyoomi does the one thing he’s been dying to do for years. He kisses you.

It’s everything he thought it would be – magical, spectacular, burning, and amazing, especially when you kiss him back. One hand holds his shoulder, the other snakes its way to his hair, gripping and grounding.

Uncaring of the snot and tears, he presses his lips against yours with much urgency, hoping to pour years’ worth of pining and affection he’s had for you. Pulling away for the second time, to breathe, he finger combs strands of hair away before cupping you by the back of your head, dark onyx eyes softening at the sight of you, enjoying the flush in your cheeks and the love in your eyes.

“I love you,”

Both of you said it at the same time, much to both your shock.

Eventually, both of you laughed, foreheads pressing.

It was a long time running and both of you were such fools.

When dawn broke out the next day, two figures were seen leaving the labyrinth hand-in-hand, as though they didn’t want to let go. The camp stirred awake, then the Miya brothers stumbled at the figures before they rushed – practically raced, over to meet their rescued sister. Soon, a brown-haired man rushed up to greet his cousin, a few more calls and more men rushed up to meet the two.

Behind them, the labyrinth magically disappeared without a trace.

However, it wasn’t important.

For what’s important was that the third prince of Itachiyama, the commander of the Royal Guard, finally got his heart back.

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ourneverendingpossibilities · 4 years ago

Text

Amnesia (1/2)

Anime: Bleach Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques x reader Rating: M (For swearing and brief mentions of sex.) A/N: This is Extremely late. But it’s the story I promised @oi-taigaaaaa for Christmas!! In exchange, she owes me a drawing LOL. This can also be found on my AO3 AND is SLIGHT AU. Hope you all like it! _____________

Her back rests against the mattress, eyes closed as she fights to catch her breath. A hand drapes over her face, the other dangling off the edge of the bed, too tired to change out of her clothing... Training was exhausting and tense as usual. Harribel always has a way of making it worth more than _____ can give. But she grows stronger with every session, and soon she'll be able to fight alongside her master.

Instead of watching his back.

____ tries to rid the anxious feeling from her body, but her mind keeps replaying moments... To when Grimmjow returned the first time... Her fellow comrades dead and no longer amongst the living.. She was upset they lost to those shinigami... but what hurt her more was seeing Grimmjow with no arm... and feeling guilty she couldn't bring it back... He only scowled at her, shaking his head at her words, before pushing her onto his bed, ridding her of those negative thoughts with his warmth, scent and taste.

Their bodies were a tangle of limbs by the end of it, and he'd made it a point to never speak of his lack of limb ever again. Not because he was ashamed to have one arm; but because he knew she would continue to feel guilty for not defending him. If she had tried, she would've died, and no way would Grimmjow ever let ____ be punished for his actions. That's why he left her behind.

She feels him enter before she can sit up, and he's immediately swooping down to pick her up with both arms... Wait... She blinks back the sleep several times, trying to wrap her mind around what's happening... Not only is he carrying her, he's running. Both his arms are around her waist, and she has to wrap her arms around his neck to keep from falling down. When she finally understands what's going on, they're in another world entirely, and _____ can only guess this is the World of the Living...

"G....Grimmjow-sama...."

"Run... Run away, _____."

She turns to look at him, seeing his back turned to her, and a garganta is open. The dread begins to crawl up her spine, and before she realizes what she's doing, she already has her arms wrapped around his waist, face buried in his jacket.

"NO! I... I won't leave Grimmjow-sama!!"

His feet halt their movement, and his eyes narrow, teeth baring at the tone in her voice... _____ always listened to him, no matter the situation... And yet, the one time he's doing something for her, she chooses to defy him?? The portal closes, and he whirls around, forcing her against the tree, pinning her arms above her head as he glares down at her.

"You dare to defy me, ______? After everything I've done for you....?" he mutters darkly, mouth moving to bite her neck. She lets out a whimper, wriggling in his grasp, but he tightens his hold, moving his lips to her throat. "You're playing with fire, girl..." he rumbles, licking her skin as his grip turns to bruising...

She lets out a whimper, but shakes away the haze from her mind, staring down at him. "I.... I don't care..." she mutters, catching his gaze with her own, stubborn and resilient. "From the day we met... I swore I'd fight for and protect Grimmjow-sama..." she states, watching him start to stand up straight... "If I run away now, when we're preparing for war, I'm not worthy of calling you my master."

His cold gaze begins to soften just a little, and he loosens his grip on her wrists, before tugging her into a bruising kiss. He swoops down to pick her up, holding her against the tree as he dominates her mouth, plunging his tongue into her cavern. He lets her hands delve into his hair, crushing him to her as she reciprocates the passion he gives her, no matter how rough he is. It makes him feel a twinge of guilt when he pulls away, staring into her eyes with a look he's never shared with anyone... It causes her to gasp, but the sudden pain to her neck envelops her, and she collapses onto his chest, her zanpakutou falling off her hip. He catches it before it hits the grass, adjusting her on his hip as he begins walking, only to be stopped by a blonde.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance, Arrcancar-san!"

His eyes narrow, and Grimmjow lets out a 'tch', pushing his way through. Though the next words catch him by surprise.

"I know you want to protect her from Aizen, Grimmjow-san... My question to you... Who do you think is going to protect her?"

He turns his head, assessing the male with teal hues... In the back of his mind, Grimmjow doesn't trust anyone but himself to protect and care for _____. But this is a war; and as much training as _____ has done, he knows she'll never be prepared for the real thing... That, and with her healing abilities, he doesn't want Aizen to ever find out... She's his, and always will be his.. He won't give her up for anyone or anything...

But this man is right... He's in the world of the Living.. and no way in Hell would he ask Kurosaki to protect the person he values most. He doesn't sense the bastard around anyway, and his only guess is he's already on his way to save that Orihime chick from Aizen... Tch... What a moron, rushing into hell to save the princess...

The snap of a finger causes him to snap out of his thoughts, and his eyes narrow; "What makes you think you can protect her, if I can't?"

Urahara tips his hat, casting him a smile; "Grimmjow-san... You really underestimate my abilities... I'm hurt.." though when the blunette glares, he lets out a sigh, shaking his head, "It's simple... I'll make her a gigai that conceals her reiatsu... Only I will know where she is the whole time... And I'll take full responsibility should anything happen to her."

In the back of his head, Pantera is crying and growling at him not to let ____ go... But he also knows he can't guarantee her safety if anything happens... He wants to fight Kurosaki to the death, and he can't do that if he's watching over her... He remains still for a few more minutes, debating his options, before he growls darkly, walking over to the blonde and carefully places her in his arms.

"I'll come to collect her when the war is finished... And if she's not in one piece, you'll be sent to Hell."

He hears the light chuckle as he walks through the garganta, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"I'd like to see you try, Grimmjow-san."

_____________

18 Months later

He hates wearing gigais.

They're constricting; preventing him from fighting at full strength. Pathetic, because humans can see him, and he'd rather scare them to death with a howl of maniacal laughter as a hollow. But he's returned for his princess, and he won't let her leave his side again... Or that was the initial plan...

When he finds _____ once again, she's cornered in a back alley, surrounded by three men... In the back of his mind, Grimmjow wonders why she hasn't kicked his ass yet.. He knows her well enough.. She would never let this stand... But his mind then wanders to her gigai, and he remembered the damn shinigami say the gigai would conceal her reiatsu... There was a chance it was absorbing it too, making her as weak as an ordinary human... He waits a few moments longer, just to see if she'll even attempt to fight for herself.

But the leader grabs her wrist, and he sees red. Without warning, he charges at the guy, sending him flying into the second goon. And when he casts a glare at the third man, he cowers and runs away, leaving the other two behind like garbage scattered on the ground... Tch... Are all humans this pathetic and wimpy? He shakes his head, turning his attention to the girl glued to the wall. Her eyes were wide, remaining on him as he stands up straight. He follows her eyes until they meet each other, and he rests a hand on the wall behind her, pinning her between it and his leg.

"We meet again, Princess..."

His free hand cups her cheek, now burning under his touch, and intense stare, and god.. He just wants to devour her senseless.. It's been far too long since he's been beside her.... He should've sensed something was off; considering she didn't call his name once... She just stood there, watching his actions, and it's when he leans in to kiss her, to taint her, claim her at his once more, does she speak those three words;

"Who are you?"

In the back of her mind, _____ knew she could take those three men in the alleyway... But ever since the Winter War, she could feel her powers start to stabilize... Some days, she'd have a surge of energy, and she'd be in the basement of Urahara's shop, training with either Orihime or Yoruichi, whoever was available... Other times, she'd go for a long run, until her lungs ached and her vision was blurry. It was during those times, when she'd return from the long workout, would she collapse on her bed at the shop, and start to dream of blue and white.

Sometimes they were short, brief moments... Other times, they would be long, comforting dreams.. She'd always wake up in a sweat, but full of warmth. She couldn't think of words to describe it... She knew there was someone with her in those dreams, protective and big... His arms would hold her as if she's the most treasured person in the world. And she would reciprocate those actions, swear to herself she'd always be loyal to him and him alone...

But as soon as she'd look up, she could never decipher their face. Icy blue continues to haunt her...

She's brought back to the present, though her eyes are on the concrete beneath her. And it dawns on ____... She's being carried by the man who rescued her... Her cheeks begin to flare, upon realizing his hand is resting on her butt, and she can't find the words to stay.. Instead, she clings to his jacket, trying not to stammer... S..She feels so vulnerable, and yet, a part of her feels safe... Like she knows this man...

But why isn't his name coming to mind??

She realizes when he stops, they're at Urahara's... Part of her wonders how he knew she was staying here... But part of her was scared to voice her opinion... Instead, she feels him charge into the house, and without warning, he drops her in front of Urahara, who stares up at him with wide eyes...

"What the FUCK did you do to _______???"

He can't fucking believe it.

Kurosaki... That fucking bastard... It's HIS fault ____ doesn't know who he is!!

How is that stupid child Shinigami always the main thorn in his side??? More importantly, why did it bother him she chose to defend him?

xxx

"Ah! If it isn't our good pal, Grimmjow-kun!! I'm glad to see you're still alive!"

He growls, kicking the table. "CUT THE CRAP, Old man! You told me you'd take care of ____ and make sure she's safe!! So why the fuck can't she remember me?"

The words startle Urahara, who looks down at the table with a frown... Yoruichi also looked at the dismantled table, while Tessai took care of the tiny injury ____ endured when Grimmjow dropped her on the floor...

"Perhaps you hit her too hard before you dropped her in my care, Grimmjow-kun... Did you ever think of that as a possibility?"

His temper flared, and the glare grew deeper as he looked down at the blonde... Oh he's lucky he's in this shitty gigai right now... Otherwise there'd be hell to pay...

"Kisuke... That's enough joking around.." Yoruichi hissed, looking at the bluenette with golden hues, "Right after the war, Ichigo lost his Shinigami powers, and became an ordinary human... Not long after, a man named Tsukishima and Ginjou appeared, and taught him how to use a new type of power... It's also known as the "Fullbringer." Long story short, they backstabbed Ichigo and turned his friends against him, erasing any recollection of his presence..."

She stops, assessing the bluenette's expression... Confusion, anger, annoyance... as if wondering what it had to do with him... "They also went after _____... And took her memories too... But somehow... When they erased her memories of Ichigo..." she pauses, trying to put it into words, "They somehow erased her memories of you. Though when her memories of Ichigo came back, the ones she had of you didn't... and we're still trying to figure out why."

She frowns when he suddenly turns around, punching a hole in the wall.

"So you're saying this is all Kurosaki's fault?!"

"It's NOT Ichigo's fault!!" She hisses, standing up and glaring at him. ____ is so frustrated with this stranger's attitude, she misses the complete look of betrayal and shock hidden behind teal hues. "He protected me! He beat Ginjou for me! Yeah, maybe if I hadn't met Ichigo, this wouldn't have happened! But it did! It's not as if you were there when it happened! So stop blaming him!"

She runs to her room, slamming the door shut, unaware of the inner turmoil within the blue-haired arrancar.

xxx

Before he's aware of his actions, his hand is smacked against the tree, blood seeping from his wound... Damn this shitty Gigai! He can't destroy anything properly! Instead, he shakes his head, leaning against the tree as he slides to the ground. His eyes close for a few moments, taking in the fresh air... It makes him sick, how beautiful and fresh everything is... But nothing would compare to her... And right now, she wants nothing to do with him...

Because she doesn't know who he is.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, silently wishing he was able to kill something... ANYTHING... What hurts him most, was how she had the nerve to say he's never protected her... Better yet, he wasn't there to protect her... And had he known this was how things would be after the war, he would've taken his chances to keep her at his side and protect her himself...

He would've preferred her to die with him, than to forget who he is. And if Grimmjow had a heart, it would be shattered into a million pieces.

#bleach imagines #bleach scenarios #Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez #grimmjow x reader #angst #romance #set in bleach verse #reader is his fraccion #hurt/comfort #part 1

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