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itsswritten · 3 months

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Cauldron-born

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him.��

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived.

They had shaken him.

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours.

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippling from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floated toward you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you.

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A girl from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another girl stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place.

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his again.

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding.

“You are Cauldron-born.”

✵

“Would you like to join us for some tea?” Your response had been after Elain’s heavy statement.

Your words coming out in a flurry to cut through the heaviness in the air. Despite being outside it felt stifling. Several eyes piercing into you. You could almost hear the way they were trying to decipher you— breakdown what Elain had said.

You hadn’t allowed them the time. Quickly offering them tea, as you glanced at the small set up you and Helion had come to the courtyard to enjoy.

It was only a matter of moments before more furniture was erected and began the awkward silence while the piping pot of tea began to simmer to a cool.

Your hands were scrunched up in your skirt, fists full of fabric on your lap being an obvious tell of unease to those who knew what to look for. A strained smile was forced to your lips, expression light and brows arched in apprehension as you watched the uninvited guests silently take sips of tea.

With a quick sideways glance you gave Helion a nervous smile, your lips wobbling as you took a sharp inhale. Helion responded with a gentle pat of your head, his large hand coming to ruffle your hair while a lazy smiled adorned his lips.

His energy finally shifting to one you recognised more, warm and teasing. He was relaxed again. Whatever shock the inner circle had originally caused, Helion now seemed...somewhat nonchalant.

That should have been reassuring, but the tension in your muscles didn't want to relax.

“This is y/n,” Helion finally spoke, addressing the people who had barged into his court.

At the revelation of a name, the inner circle cast their attention solely on you.

“These are my friends y/n, I’ve told you about them already. We had anticipated your arrival at some point,” he continued giving a knowing look to Rhys.

Your eyes scanned the expressions of the five people in front of you.

Rhys, Amren, Nesta, Elain and of course Azriel. Not the whole inner circle, no there were members missing. But Helion had done such a great job at explaining them to you, that it really wasn’t difficult to figure out who was who.

“It’s l-lovely to meet you all,” you managed out, voice falling softer than you had hoped. Your own eyes gently moving across them all before flitting to the shadowy presence that remained stood behind the Night Courts High Lord.

Azriel.

Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from looking, among all the noise he sung the sweetest. His energy, amongst those swirling smoke coloured tendrils was the most beautiful display you had ever seen. Not the most powerful by any means, Rhysand and Helion’s outshone his aura in many ways but his was the most enticing— at least to you.

Composure wasn’t something Azriel usually lacked, but after hearing the softness of your voice fill the warm evening air he had to collect himself entirely.

From the moment he’d set his eyes on you, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in the depths of his chest. Maybe if you hadn’t been the cause of it, he’d have assumed there was something wrong with his heart.

Azriel noticed the way your fingers nervously picked at your skirt, fists tight with the material as you sat up straight beside Helion. As if your posture would bring a confidence you were clearly lacking.

He could sense it, your unease, nervousness. Picked up on it before even his shadows could whisper it to him.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

He blinked them away. He already knew.

Pretty.

Another whispered. He already knew that too.

Pretty was putting it plainly though. You were breathtaking.

Azriel wanted to reassure you. Comfort the anxiety he could tell you were drowning in. It was such a strange sensation, to feel this connection so deeply with someone he’d never met before, that Azriel couldn’t help but question why.

Azriel allowed himself to consider that perhaps something he’d been dreaming of for so long was finally his.

That feeling, the ache in his chest you caused— was almost painfully lovely. He swore this was exactly how his brothers had described it to him.

Azriel found himself allowing the smallest curve spread to the edge of his lips, a gentle, secret smile. Just for you.

A smile that softened your own forced expression to something more relaxed and genuine.

For a moment it felt as though it was just you two. The noise and vibrations of everyone else seemed to fade. An embrace of cobalt and hazel filling you with a warmth that felt so familiar.

“But Elain is correct. Y/n is cauldron-born.” Helion’s voice broke the trance you both seemed to be in.

Your nervousness from before simmering hotter.

“It cannot be,” Amren declared, disbelief tinging her tone as her gaze pierced into you.

“You think I lie?” Helion challenged.

“How do you know for sure?” Rhys pressed back, an uncertainty in his tone.

“Because I know you all feel it too,” Helion’s voice was deep, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you proudly.

“She is the Mother’s daughter.”

A statement. Even more bold than Elain’s settled a silence across the courtyard. This time it wasn’t stifling, their energy shifting to something of awe, admiration and then devotion.

In one quick movement a figure dropped to their knees. Head pressing to the cool stone ground.

Amren had bowed before your feet.

And Amren bowed to no one.

a/n: Okay I know this a whole lot more of elusive-ness and I'm sorry, I just thought sharing this little bit more is better than nothing at all. I wanted to flesh this first out properly so here's the full part one! I've been so swamped with work and inspiration struck this evening so I quickly wrote this in my notes. I promise I will eventually finish it, even if it's just little updates here and there. I'm hoping maybe 2 more parts, so it'll be a nice little mini-series!

I also took it upon myself to try and tag everyone who commented and reblogged because you all seemed very invested so didn't want you to miss this installment even if it is tiny<3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

CB tags: @hannzoaks @je-suis-prest-rachel @awkardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @faerieboismh @glitterypirateduck @paradisebabey @jesskidding3 @searchingforbucky @beardburnsupersoldiers @chubby-unicornz @toxicsociety17-blog g @sapphenaa @starsidesigh @kalistaangelsbane @bookishthoughtss @pit-and-the-pen

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #cauldron-born #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #reader x azriel #azriel acotar #azriel series

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bnhaobservation · 2 months

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Did Enji atone to Touya (and his family) and stepped up on his role as a father?

Boku no Hero Academia has a grave 'flaw'. The fact that's strongly tied to Japanese culture and Buddhism makes it a very interesting work but also makes it a hardly international work because way too many cultural things are left unexplained because they're assumed to be a given. Only they're not when the work is read by foreign readers. And this lead to confusion.

The Todoroki plotline is an example of this.

In the west many feel Enji did nothing for Touya or did too little because the little he did is a given in the west. The point is... it's not a given in Japan. In Japan is a BIG DEAL. So let's go though it.

First, the fact that he doesn't want to kill Touya even though he's a criminal

Todoroki Enji ‘Ore wa ikinobite mo... ENDEAVOR wa shinda. Tairyō satsujinsha (read: musuko) to tatakaenai.’ 轟炎司「俺は生き延びても...エンデヴァーは死んだ。大量殺人者（むすこ）と戦えない。」 Todoroki Enji “Even if I survived... Endeavor is dead. I can't fight against a mass murderer (read: my son).”

Let's compare it to these two scenes of "Death Note" and see how Yagami Soichiro, a policeman, is taking the idea his son might be a killer and how, although Misa protests, the story doesn't present it as him being crazy but as it being his duty.

That's why Hawks doesn't want to send Enji, who's on an atonement path, to face Dabi, because Enji might end up in a situation in which he would have to kill his son and he would refuse... which is more or less what happens.

Second, Enji acknowledges that what Touya said is true, Touya is his son and Enji did what he did. In such a situation many would lie. Dabi's video proves nothing. He is a Villain, they had a doctor in the team who could create Nomu, the paternity test could be fake, even if Dabi were to provide a sample of his blood or skin they could insist that's fake.

Society didn't want the truth, they don't want Enji to confess, they wanted him to reassure them, they even commented he should have lied because yes, that's what's done often.

Basically he put his honor on the chopping block. A public apology like this one is a BIG DEAL in Japan. It's much more serious than in western countries and he does it when he could have spared himself and say Dabi lied but that would have meant to deny his son.

Third, it connects to the first in a way. While Enji is unwilling to kill Touya, he's willing to die with him. It's ‘shinjū’ (心中 Lit. “Mind/heart center/inside” but more likely means “oneness of hearts”, probably reflecting a psychological link between the participants) and it’s a word used in common parlance to refer to any group suicide of two or more individuals bound by love, typically lovers, parents and children, and even whole families. People who commit shinjū believe that they would be united again in heaven, a view supported by feudal teaching in Edo period Japan, which taught that the bond between loved ones would continue into the next world, and by the teaching of Pure Land Buddhism wherein it is believed that through shinjū, one can approach rebirth in the Pure Land. By volunteering to die with him, Enji is basically agreeing to remain with him in their next reincarnation.

For us it's crazy, it's Enji giving up on saving him. In Japan it sounds like 'I love you and I want to be with you'.

Forth, he'll apologize to Touya. As said before it's a BIG DEAL, especially since Enji is the family head and, although for us most of what he did is wrong, in Japan most of what he did is well within what he can do. Marrying a woman you don't love in a combined marriage to expect the child who'll be born from it will fulfill your ambitions and not really bothering to raise it because that's a mother job, well, things are changing in Japan but none of the above is a crime. In a not so distant past it was actually the norm. Yet Enji apologizes even though normally a family head wouldn't.

Fifth it's a bit in the first point and in the second but it'll drag on through all the story, Enji won't reject Touya. He's the only one (except Fuyumi who however doesn't get to say much) who never calls him Dabi after the reveal, and he won't strike him out of the family register but will keep on considering him his son.

Look at the Tobitas instead and at how they kick their son out.

Don't think Hawks is cutting strings with his parents solely because they were abusive, the Tobitas show us how you should just cut strings with a criminal. Same as the Togas.

Have "Theseus no fune" in which a man accused to be a murderer, send a birthday gift to his son and watch the reaction of his wife.

They don't want to keep contact with a criminal. It's scary because they'll be mistreated if they are discovered to be related to him.

And, in this vein, the fact he wants to go see him, that he'll keep on seeing him till the end instead than turning his back on him, is seen as important. It's seen as him being his father.

To many of us it seems as if he's forcing his presence upon Touya. Actually, from a Japanese perspective he's instead not abandoning him like many others would.

And since Touya is dying, very likely the talking will be the talking that's done in a Buddhist culture when someone is dying. Death should occur in a calm and peaceful environment, with close friends and family in attendance. Together they should reflect on the good deeds the dying person has done throughout their life, in the hopes it will help them in their next reincarnation. Additionally, family and friends can perform good deeds on behalf of them, which they believe will be of merit to the deceased.

So, since Touya is dying he won't get a scolding like Chisaki, they'll all only tell him nice and soothing things so he'll die peacefully.

Now... in the west all this is absolutely way too little, and in some points even feels wrong. Dying together instead than insisting in trying to save him? Deciding unilaterally to show up every day? Not our thing...

We can totally say 'thanks, I hate it' because we grew up with Darth Vader who instead gave his life to SAVE his son. All this accepting that Touya instead is going to die so Enji can at best die with him or keep him company until he does... well, it's mostly not our cup of cultural tea.

In in Japan though, all Enji does is important. Enji is doing something for Touya as a father, something important many fathers wouln't do for their sons.

Does it would satisfy a Japanese audience? They'll get the message better than us... but things are changing and anyway it can still feel too little. "Death Note" is dated 2005/2006 and back in it Misa was already questioning the idea of a father killing his son and then killing himself. BNHA is more innovative as Enji doesn't think to kill Touya but he still goes for the 'let's die together' route... and Horikoshi subtly criticizes it by having the rest of the family decising they'll try to stop the fire before just giving up. They're willing to die, but not before trying.

Enji represents plenty of old theories after all, which Horikoshi acknowledges were moved out of wrong beliefs, not moved by mean intents... which, is possible, would still not be enough for Japanese readers either because among teenagers, the target audience, there's an increasing number of teen who, in Japan, are forced to leave home (the Toyoko Kids) and often ends up committing crimes to survive and the league seems to be based on all the kind of homeless people Japan has.

While for a kid at home with a loving family being told that your father will die with him if he messes up instead than just dumping him might be comforting... for a kid that was abused and forced to leave home this might feel not enough.

People want to be saved, being told it's too late to save them, might be a lesson for those who hadn't done anything wrong yet so that they won't do it, but it's surely not a hopeful message for who instead got himself into troubles.

But well, that's something for the Japanese audience to ponder.

There's also to point out that, even though the message is not hopeful, Horikoshi is seeing the homeless people and acknowledging they should be helped.

Japan in regard to the Toyoko kids is mostly like the old woman who pretended not to see Tenko but that, in the end, helps that new boy.

I think Horikoshi's message desperately wants to be hopeful even for them, that he wants BNHA be like Midoriya's final stand, something that will push people to acknowledge they exist and reach out to help them.

It just that... it gets lost in what I'll call the 'litteral translation'.

No one explains us how we should jusge the scenes and, since we lack the cultural background, to us they are perceived differently because to us things work differently.

And, personally, even when I think I figured out the author's intent and can see the positivity of it, the cultural filter is still too tick and the picture gets blurried.

It's like being beginner at speaking a foreign language and having to constantly translate it in your head. The message loses its natural beauty, get simplified and not fully grasped.

I think I understand how Enji's atonement work in regard to Touya... it still doesn't feel fulfilling to me. But enough about Touya.

'Now,' you might rightfully say, 'fine, I'll bite, let's assume what Enji has is an atonement arc for Touya. It doesn't work at all in the west but let's give it a pass. What about his other kids?'

Natsuo and Fuyumi's wishes are in conflict.

Fuyumi wants the five of them to be a family (at the time she doesn't know Touya is alive), Natsuo doesn't want to be part of a family with Enji.

Enji's solution is giving Fuyumi a house in which she can welcome her mother and live with Natsuo (and Shouto when he comes home), while he removes himself from the equation. The solution fulfills Natsuo's wish of not seeing Enji because it makes him feel bad. It only partly fulfil Fuyumi's wish because it'll allow her to have her mother back (Rei couldn't bear meeting Enji either) and to stay with her siblings... but Enji takes responsibility for it, he doesn't tell her it's due to Natsuo that he can't live with them, so, in theory, it won't be Natsuo the one who's stressed to be at home when Enji is there and the one who has to leave home because he can't stand the sight of Enji.

There are many things I can say on how this is not a good solution (it doesn't make Natsuo feel better, it just stops him from feeling worse), but there are two points to consider. The first is that Enji is getting old and it would be his children's duty, due to filial pity, to take care of him, instead he's basically giving them the means to leave and take his wife with them.

Actually, since Natsuo is now the oldest MALE, it should fall on him specifically. Yes, Enji always intended to have Shouto inherit his mantle but this doesn't free Natsuo from his duties. Instead Enji is letting all his children free.

Even with Shouto, he doesn't insist anymore for Shouto to learn Flashfire Fist as his heir but just as an intern.

I take this is big in Japan.

Here again, not so much, especially in the countries in the west that think kids should leave their parents' home as soon as possible and we don't think our children are obliged to inherit our mantles.

Note how the story implies that this was meant to be the end for the Natsuo/Enji arc.

Natsuo made clear he didn't want to meet Enji again, he does it solely because they've to stop Touya and, once they've stopped Touya, he makes clear he doesn't want to see him again.

If we want though, the fact he's leaving the family can be seen as a concession in a way.

Since apparently Rei wants to stay with Enji (and likely their old house was devasted because that's what happens to relative of criminals) Enji can now move with Fuyumi and Rei and Natsuo won't have to see him because he'll leave home... to make his own home.

As for Shouto... Horikoshi answered his request by basically showing him Enji being a father for Touya and then promising he would protect them from the fiery fallout, which Horikoshi doesn't show at all because it's another thing that's a given in Japanese culture, it'll be hell for Enji to protect them, but not for us.

Just to get an idea of the fiery fallout here are some images from "Theseus no fune" again showing you how bad is this sort of thing.

Back to Enji, Horikoshi gives us verbal confirmation that Enji is now being a father by being willing to do this, by having Natsuo, who never called him as such, calling him father for the first time.

For Horikoshi that's Enji being a father.

Again, we've no idea of which hell Enji will suffer because that's not part of our culture. I've posted above screencaps of "Theseus no fune", that's how the fallout should be so not pretty at all.

So the fact that Enji will try to protect them from it is, again, BIG.

So yeah, Enji did do BIG things to atone and keeps on doing them and if he'll ultimately get forgiven by Natsuo (the rest of his family wanted to forgive him way before he were to do something), that's up to Natsuo... Horikoshi likely left this as open ending because he wanted to let it up to readers so as not to make them feel they were forced to forgive Enji.

In the general hopeful theme of the manga and with Natsuo acknowledging him as a cool father I guess his idea is that Natsuo too will eventually forgive him because he's kind.

I don't want to say that Natsuo forgiving Enji would be a culture clash because there's people even here that forgive their horrible parents and that's valid. Forgiving is a personal choice and one has the right to make it even if said horrible parent did nothing to deserve it.

It's up to you.

But sure is, if again we take the story at face value and not in its cultural contest, we can't see what Enji does to atone, because for us is nothing big.

It's even made worse by how Horikoshi doesn't show at all the hell Enji will go through (as for him is a given) so for us IT DOESN'T EXIST. We see Enji as having it easy, talking big but not having to face anything at all.

Honestly though... I think this is a bit of a flaw of the manga as a whole.

Way too often it prefers to focus on the good than on the bad so that the bad gets sidelined to much to the point people forget it.

There were horrible Heroes who committed crimes and had no intention to repent or stop... and we never met them. Nagant killed them off but we never met them.

Mountain Lady, who became a Hero for money and fame, then sticks to the job even when it's bad. Desugoro, who left the job when it turned bad, then came back to help. Enji is on an atonement path and, anyway, on work he was always a good Hero.

In the same way Horikoshi prefers not to show Enji's hardship but focus on how he'll have the support of his sidekicks, driver and Hawks... partly also because it ties in so well with the general message of everyone reaching out.

The result is that the Midoriya plotline of everyone reaching out becomes more important of the Enji atonement arc and overshadows it.

Enji's atonement arc ends in 426, chap 430 doesn't feel the need to tell us if Enji is keeping up with it despite the hardship, nor how his family is doing. It feels the need to reassure us that people will reach out for him even if he's in hell, that even if he had to give up on his family, he now as a new found family.

It's thematically consistent with the theme of reaching out but... the fact it overwrites the atonement arc honestly FOR ME doesn't work so great.

I think it's an overall problem of the 'reaching out message'.

While in itself is beautiful... it saves nothing I was lead to care about.

In Enji's case I was interested in his atonement arc, in how he could help his kids. I wanted more of that, partly because his atonement arc is so far from my culture, partly because it touched characters I cared about, I wanted to be reassured he would keep on working on it and that his family would be well.

Yes, he should be in hell, but the story didn't really work hard on trying to make me worry for him as it established already a support network for him. The story made me worry for the kids, for Touya, who was dying, for Fuyumi, who wanted back her family and won't have it, for Natsuo, who's marrying an unknown character so young, for Shouto, who has to cope with the loss of the brother with whom he wanted to connect.

I don't really care Burnin, Onima, Kido and Hawks are willing to continue to protect Enji, to reach out to help him, I knew they would, I wanted to be reassured Enji's kids are safe, well and protected. I wanted to see ENJI reach out and help them.

In this vein I don't really care the old grandmother saved a nameless abused kid, or, at least, not as much as I cared for Tomura to be saved. It's nice she saved him, it's nice he gets to live the life Tomura was denied but honestly, he's a mob character with a super tragic backstory created deliberately to force us to emotionally connect to him.

The message he now will be saved is good, but my emotional investment to him is too little.

The same applies to Uraraka's Quirk counsueling program, we knew next to nothing about the Quirk consueling previous program beyond that it didn't work (a real problem in Japan as they have a school consueling program that didn't work... and changes are in progress) and that now it supposedly does.

To how Shouji now solves peacefully plenty of conflicts caused by Heteromorph discrimination, which Horikoshi tossed in later and never really showed how to solve (and, don't take me wrong, it's not solved even by Shouji, he just solves peacefully the conflicts, how is up to everyone's speculation).

Long story short, I think Horikoshi worked really hard for BNHA to have an optimist, hopeful message... but part of it goes lost in cultural differences and part of it goes lost in how the story didn't try to get me invested in the things it's now saving.

So yeah, I'm still sad for this little panel in chap 430

I guess I'll eventually get over it. Today though, it's not that day.

On a positive note... if we count the pages of all the chapters that should go in vol 42 they're only 132. The chapters that were meant to go into Vol 39 had 165 (which yes, Horikoshi further expanded once the volume was released).

So yeah, unless Vol 42 will be slimmer than usual or that he'll add to it some sidestory or extra story, it's possible we'll get more plot in terms of epilogue. We'll see.

(also yes, I'm not touching Rei in this post. Rei is another can of worm entirely and one, I fear, Horikoshi doesn't care about. The poor woman doesn't even get a profile while Ikoma Komari does. And really, I do think Rei is much more important than Ikoma Komari)

Last, but not least, since someone seems to get the wrong idea, in case it wasn't clear enough, I'm not Japanese. I research on this. Through books, through the net and yeah, since I like to read manga and anime also through them which I often use as a source of comparison because they're easy, accessible to many and represent the same kind of media BNHA is so they more or less move according to the same or similar rules. I might have messed up somewhere. I encourage you to also research on the topic and take everything with a grain or two of salt.

#boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #Todoroki Enji #Todoroki Rei #Todoroki Touya #Todoroki Fuyumi #Todoroki Natsuo #Todoroki Shouto.#bnha ramblings

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yesimwriting · 6 months

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ELLE IM HERE FOR JEALOUS FELIX IDEA WE WERE DISCUSSINF …

olive i made felix extra unhinged here just for you <3

----

“So…” The word is as small as it is hollow. You squeeze your hands together, attention settling on the way your skin strains against the tendons. So implies that the person speaking has somewhere to go, something to say.

Felix stalls, halfway between his dorm’s entryway and his bed. A beat passes before he finally turns around. “So.” His feels a lot more definite.

The nail of your left thumb presses into the cuticle of your right. “I uh–” The world is too hazy for this. If you had known the night wouldn’t end in its usual way, with you and Felix giggly and content in that drowsy way, you would have turned down that last shot. “If you’re upset, we can talk about it.”

He continues forward, steps casual as he reaches the bed. Felix sits down with a soft sigh, the sound tired but not exactly irritated. “Upset?” He repeats gently, body shifting back to rest against a pillow. “Why would I be upset?”

The genuineness of the question throws you. Felix didn’t seem to need someone to explain why he would be upset when he practically pulled you out of the bar. Felix didn’t seem confused when he barely gave you a second to say goodbye to a girl you met through your roommate. He didn’t stop to think about why he might be upset when he left without saying anything to any of his friends.

All of this felt so worth mentioning when you were walking next to Felix on an empty sidewalk, eyes focused on making out cracks in the pavement to keep yourself from staring at him. “Because we got separated at the party, and–”

You blink. You’re sorry–you know you’re sorry that Felix’s feelings were bruised, and you know that you could have been a little more intentional in the way you treated him after you started drinking. Felix always takes you into consideration, it doesn’t matter who he’s with or what state he’s in. You know there are things you feel bad about, and you remember the moment that you realized that Felix wasn’t by your side, but the details, the bulk of the night, are all blurred beyond distinction.

Early on into the night, you recognized Dina, a girl from your roommate’s friend group. Then, she introduced you to Nick. He bought you and Dina drinks, and then dancing…the three of you, and then eventually just you and Nick. After that, all you have is brief snapshots, each murkier than the last. Asking for a glass of water at the bar, Nick progressively moving closer, a girl complimenting your outfit, more drinks, Nick and the warmth of his breath against your ear.

You take a step forward. “And I wasn’t the nicest.” You force your arms to relax. Felix veering towards unexplainable tranquility is strange, but it isn’t worse than his anger. At the very least, it’s disorientating enough to feel better than straight forward anger. “We went out together and I didn’t–you’re always so good to me.” You frown, guilt prodding at your chest. “You–you check in on me, and you get me water, and you sit with me…” The words cram in on themselves, wedging themselves in your throat. Great, you’re trying to apologize and now you’re going to start crying, “Even when everyone wants to sit with you.”

“Lovie,” he whispers the nickname so calmly it briefly throws you. For a beat, you’re too confused to be upset. Felix takes advantage of the lapse, lifting a hand to pat the available space next to him.

You take a tentative step forward, and then another, again and again until you’re within reach of his bed. Before you can try to sit, Felix extends an arm, hand moving to rest against your hip. The sudden contact makes you still. His thumb shifts, brushing against the sliver of exposed skin between your skirt and top.

Your general uncertainty is catching up with your whiplash from all the directions you’ve been pulled in tonight. He’s touching you so carefully. How can this be the same guy that grabbed your shoulder and barely thought to mutter a tense we’re going before walking away.

Without thinking, you lift your hand, pressing your palm against the back of his so that his hand has to lie flat against you. “I’m sorry.”

Felix tilts his head back slightly, eyes finding yours. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but he’s far from shy about it, taking in every detail of your expression openly. “I know.” It’s not exactly the proclamation of understanding and forgiveness you wanted, but it’s not a bad start. You take a partial step to the side, ready to sit down. Felix squeezes your hip, forcing you to still. “Sit with me?”

The phrasing is familiar enough for you to understand exactly what he’s asking. You nod once. Taking that as all the conformation he needs, Felix pulls back to give you the space needed to sit on his lap.

As soon as you’re settled, Felix’s hand finds your knee. There’s an affection in the way that his nails drag against your skin that has you easing. You’re still not completely sure on where you stand. Felix’s mood shifted so quickly, and you’ve yet to talk about what happened tonight, but this, his care and affection, is something you can trust.

“I didn’t…” His voice is quiet, soft. That doesn’t mean they don’t feel startling. You lean into him, turning your head to watch him openly. “I didn’t like feeling away from you.”

“I know,” the admission is quick, as if accepting the guilt fast enough will warp time and space and erase his hurt from existence. You place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened–I–I was really drunk and then I looked over and you–you weren’t there, and I couldn’t remember how long it had been since you were.” The explanation is awkward and wordy, but it’s the only way you can think to articulate anything, a testament to the alcohol still in your system. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt your feelings on purpose, right?”

Felix pulls your hand off his shoulder. You frown until you feel his fingers find their place between yours. “Yeah,” he says, “I do know that.”

That’s something. You squeeze his hand, glad for the assurance of the contact. Your thumb brushes against his knuckles. Felix’s hand is now firmly settled against the space right above your knee. You’re on his lap. You’re not far from him. All of it should feel okay, should feel like enough.

Slowly, you lift your other hand, setting your forearm against his shoulder as your fingers find his scalp. The softness of Felix’s hair is always a pleasant surprise. There’s a silkiness to the strands that feels enhanced. It feels like it should be a result of expensive product, but Felix is so naturally lovely you wouldn’t be surprised if it was genetic.

He angles his head a fraction of an inch upwards to make it easier to look at you. He’s watching you with slightly parted lips. The little distance that’s left becomes a weight you’re incapable of supporting with no warning. You lean forward without thinking, lips meeting his.

Felix reacts immediately, hand inching up your thigh. His teeth graze against your bottom lip with more pressure than you’re used to. With no warning, he shifts, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. Felix continues at a pace that’s dizzying, a series of fluttery kisses against your cheek, your jaw, the start of your neck.

“Lex…” The shakiness of your voice makes the heat crawling up your chest burn a little warmer.

He briefly stills, forehead resting against your neck. “Lovie?” The only response you can manage is a distracted hum. Felix releases your hand in order to rest his palm near your shoulder. His thumb smooths circles against the base of your neck. “Have you ever had a hickey?”

The question is so absentminded and breathless you’re almost not sure if you’re meant to respond. Not that you’d know how to answer the question regardless. It’s not like you never went out before meeting Felix. You’ve had experiences, have kissed other guys, but you’re usually the type to push them off before drunken affection goes too far.

Even though you’re alone with Felix, and you’re completely aware that he’d never actually judge you for the discrepancies between your levels of experience, it’s not an easy thing to admit. Especially when you think of all the times you’ve seen the start of maroon tinted marks peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirts.

“Can give you one, if you want.” The offer is whispered so innocently, for a moment you think you must have misheard him. He presses another kiss against your skin. “So y’can see what it’s like.”

When you don’t react fast enough, Felix places a chaste kiss against your collarbone. You force yourself to hold onto reality. “Lex,” you try again, voice doing its best to remain even. There should be a definite answer. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him tonight, and you know what the objectively correct answer is. This might be extremely casual to Felix, but you’re not as used to this kind of thing, and you��d never forgive yourself if you let something ruin your friendship. You’re trying to form the words, but you can’t get the rejection out.

“If you want,” Felix starts again, leaving another kiss against your skin, “You can give me one after.” Another kiss. “That seems fair, yeah?”

The offer catches your attention more than it should. You’ve seen marks littered all over his skin…and you’ve thought about them more than you would ever admit. Some concentrated, small, dark patches left there by teeth. Others more like a blend of ink blots, crawling up his skin, the edges a red that could just as easily be lipstick. Other people leaving evidence of their existence, of their closeness to Felix–your Felix.

Would it be such a bad thing to be that person just this once?

You nod. “Yeah.” You’re still nodding when you feel his teeth graze against his skin. Your eyes shut on instinct. “Okay. That sounds–” You’re forced to cut yourself off with a sigh. “That sounds fair.”

Felix grins against your skin. He’s more about it now, open mouthed kisses growing more urgent by the second. With each scrape of teeth against the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, there’s a soothing drag of his tongue against the irritated skin. The more time he spends on you, the harder it is to focus on anything that isn’t Felix.

With a final trail of kisses down to your collarbone, Felix straightens. The loss of contact makes you pout. The reaction makes Felix grin as his fingers move to unbutton the top of his shirt. He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips.

He releases his shirt, leaning back to give you more access. You lean forward before you can think, mouth brushing against the edge of his jaw. Felix’s hand finds the back of your head, holding you to him. You work your way down to the start of his neck, embracing everything that is him. His warmth; the smell of cologne, cigarettes, sweat, and something else that’s distinctly Felix; and the taste of skin.

Your teeth press into his neck testingly. Felix sighs, the sound heavy and needy. His hold on you tightens, encouraging you to use your teeth more steadily. You give in, taking care to smooth your tongue against his skin after. You start the process over, repeating your ministrations over again and again until it’s hard to breathe right.

You take your time pulling away, lips dragging against his skin before you finally rest your forehead against his shoulder. Felix’s hand drifts away from the back of your head, settling on your shoulder warmly. “That’s my girl.” The praise makes you grin. “You did so good, I’m almost jealous.”

His good humor seems to constrict around that last part. You don’t fully get it, but you’re too content to question it. You lift your head enough to look him in the eye. “You know I only have eyes for you, darling.”

It’s an attempt at returning the joke, but the way his eyebrows pinch together make it feel like something else. That lingering angst seems to pass him by, because he leans forward, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Me, too, sweetheart.”

You smile, letting your temple fall against his arm, completely content.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix

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val-of-the-north · 3 months

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Tibia Mariners and Those Lost in Death

While I am at it, I should talk about a detail found in Messmer's Shadow Keep. On the way to the Specimen Storehouse, you'll be faced with a peculiar sight: boats lit on fire.

This seems to be a callback to Viking funerals, except the boats are placed in a row and burnt on land. It's certainly an odd practice, but it might only be done this way because Messmer's forces are far from an accessible shore or water that's deep enough to perform it normally.

However, something else caught my eye. The boats looked quite familiar so I went back to check and...

It was the EXACT model as the boats used by the Tibia Mariners! Perhaps it is obvious seeing as the Messmer boats are used in a funerary rite, but I think it's still quite a significant connection, especially since the old Mariners have gotten quite a bit of new lore in the DLC. In Charo's Hidden Grave we can find the skulls of boatmen as a crafting material, presumably that of previous Tibia Mariners.

This is outright confirmed after finding the lone Tibia Mariner in the area, who upon defeat drops the Tibia's Cookbook, which describes them as the oldest of grave keepers.

(Btw I love the detail of the piece of lace cloth and golden ornaments, they are the same found on the Mariners themselves. They even come with the same ghostly glow)

This is quite the revelation, as prior to Shadow of the Erdtree we had no way of knowing that these guys actually predated the spread of Deathroot and Godwyn's transformation into the Prince of Death. And how could we doubt that, since they even drop Deathroot themselves? But there was something that most people have neglected to note about the Mariners, me included.

In the base game, the Tibia Mariner found in the Wyndham Ruins drops a spell called Tibia's Summons. This inconspicuous sorcery of the servants of death actually holds a perplexing description which mentions a group known as "Those Lost in Death".

There was something seemingly redundant and unexplained about these guys. What does "Lost in Death" mean? Why aren't they simply called "Those Who Live in Death"? It wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that this description just contains an outdated term for the undead before they stuck with the one used in-game. However, through the Tibia's Cookbook, we find a NEW reference to this same concept.

Roughly the same title (Those Lost in Death = one lost in death), the same underlying sentiment, and we have verifiable proof that the Tibia Mariners are outright ancient... so what's the deal with this? Well, I have a theory.

The descriptions of these things hint at the fact that the dead have been wandering for a very long time, and that they are in need of leadership. Before the DLC, it was easy to assume that the undead were simply a result of Deathroot, and the game seemed to suggest the same thing by stating multiple times that it was the origin of Those Who Live in Death...

... but that's the thing! Prior to Deathroot connecting them to Godwyn, the undead amounted only to shambling corpses. They were not LIVING in Death, but simply LOST in it, which is how the Mariners were able to control them in ancient times through the use of sounds, both their horns and the Calls of Tibia. It's only through the guidance of a lord, in this case the Prince of Death, that they found an identity and new life.

It's likely the undead waned in the era of Marika because of her elaborate Erdtree burials and general control of life and death. Heck, the figure of Rosus, who guides us to the Catacombs, must have also played a big part in their disappearance. His axe has a similar power to the Tibia's Summons and it's called Rosus's Summons. Its description also mentions that the dead easily lose their way, meaning that Rosus was meant to lend the dead a guiding hand. "Those Lost in Death" would be lost no more.

Without people Lost in Death, the Mariners kind of lost their purpose and vanished for a long time... until the Shattering and the rise of Those Who Live in Death of course. It might mean that the only reason they hold onto Deathroot is because it attracts and connects the new undead.

I guess Godwyn was meant to be a sort of "lighthouse" for all undead. He would make sure they never lost themselves but also that they would be allowed to live instead of being forced back to rest like with Rosus and Marika. Him being a "lighthouse" also fits the marine theme that all this death business is going for quite neatly I think...

But to return to what started this... maybe those boats lit on fire are Messmer's way of making sure the soldiers of his army aren't lost to death after their passing. A way to give them a proper rest the way Marika would have wanted, even though he is limited in what he can do about it. The Catacombs are now corrupted with Deathroots and Godwyn's corpse bodies, and guarded by his fervent golden Death Knights.

(P.S. - I didn't know where to put this, but "Charo" is one letter off from Charon, the ferryman of the dead in Greek mythology. Seeing as the place is connected to the Tibia Mariners, who shepherded Those Lost in Death in an age long past, I find that this connection might not be mere coincidence...)

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #tibia mariner #those who live in death #this DLC threw the little guys a bone #*ba dum tss*#ok but seriously I didn't know what to make of “those lost in death” prior to it #I just resigned to thinking it had to be some beta version of the “those who live in death” name #but nope. it actually makes sense #somehow...#and I am pretty satisfied with the answer #love the marine vibes that death has in this game lol #I wish they explored it more but alas #I'll accept the tibia lore gladly lmao #val-post

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777sturn · 3 months

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𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝜗𝜚 matt sturniolo

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉. . . you and matt have been childhood best friends for as long as you can remember. slowly, the friendship started to blossom into something more than that. cuddles and holding hands were a normal occurrence between the two, and every feeling was pushed away because it was strictly platonic. but what if one small and friendly gesture makes feelings begin to unfold?

˖ ࣪⊹ pairing, crush!matt x fem!reader

⊹₊ ⋆ warning(s), mature language, suggestive (?)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ jules’ message. little cutesy one for my first 😊

it was just another ordinary summer evening. the gentle sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the salty air was what made you look forward to summer nights the most. the sky was painted with baby pink and orange hues and the sun was about to hit the horizon, indicating it was almost sunset.

you were currently alongside matt as you two walked around the half-crowded boardwalk. it wasn’t anything new, taking walks to catch the sunset was your guys’ thing. despite you two being childhood best friends, you only got to see him over the summer. every summer, your family and his would visit the beach house and stay until school began again. of course, you were close with nick and chris, but you were always drawn to matt and had a special connection that others may brush off as just a regular friendship— except, it was much more than that.

matt and you went through everything together— relationships, friend groups, arguments, you name it. there was always this unexplainable tension between you two, but it was always pushed away for the sake of keeping the friendship.

“if we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss the sunset!” you complain, gently nudging him.

matt rolls his eyes playfully, “we’ll make it in time,” he reassures, pointing over in the distance.

soon enough, the beach slowly comes into view. even though it was the perfect time of the day to be there, it was somewhat empty. there was only a few families and couples who were playing in the water or watching the sunset.

you smile as you notice the spot. it was a small rocky area close by the shore, it was always surrounded by seashells and for some reason the breeze was much cooler there. you turn to matt, your smile growing much bigger, “i’ll race you.” and in a blink of an eye, you were off.

“what the fuck!” matt called, running after you, “you got a head start!”

you continue to giggle as you run to the spot. the warm rays of the sun casted onto you as you reached the destination. another set of laughter escapes your lips as you watch an exhausted matt slowly jog to you.

“cheater!” he lets out a breath, running his fingers through his hair that the wind messed with.

“either way,” you start, sitting down on the sand, “i would’ve still won.”

“yeah yeah,” matt mutters, sitting beside you. the sun was now casting an orange glow over the ocean and the two of you. the waves continued its rhythmic melody as it met the shore. it was peaceful and quiet between you guys.

“i like this,” you whisper softly, breaking the silence, “watching the sunset, again with you.”

“god don’t be cheesy,” matt mutters shaking his head, a hint of amusement was heard in his voice as he tried to cover it up with a tough act.

you let out another giggle as your eyes roam around the sand and seashells in front of you. a plethora of different shapes, sizes, and colored shells caught your eye— but a couple of them in particular stood out to you the most. you reach out, picking up three blue shells that were different shades as the ocean. they were also blue, just like matt’s eyes.

matt was looking out at the sunset, not realizing you were searching for shells. you turn to him to study his face for a second before scooting a little closer towards him.

“look at me for a second,” you say softly, enclosing your fingers on the shells to hide them.

matt turns to face you with a slight confused expression. he looks down at your tightly closed hand, “i swear to fuck if you throw sand in my face, i’ll literally throw you into the ocean.”

you roll your eyes, “i promise i wont, just look at me and move your hair out of your eyes.”

he sighs, looking straight at you. his hand slightly held up his hair out of his eyes. you smile as you open your hand, revealing the three shells. you pick one up one at a time, holding it up close to his eyes. your eyes flicker back and forth from his pupils to the shell. you continue to stay silent until you bring up the third one, “found it.” your smile grows bigger.

“found what?” he asked, his voice was raspy and low from staying quiet.

“a shell that matches your eyes.” you say casually, wrapping your fingers around it again, “now, lets continue watching the sunset.”

“why would i watch the sunset if i could watch the pretty girl thats right in front of me.” he mutters, softly.

your eyes widen slightly, “look who’s being cheesy now.” you tease, playfully nudging his arm.

“now we’re equal.” matt smirks, “wait actually no.” his eyes divert on the shells, searching for a hazel colored one. he picks one up and turns back to you.

his hand gently tucked your hair behind your ear. the sudden touch made your heart drop and it felt like a whole zoo broke out into your stomach. he held up the shell next to your eye and lets out a satisfied hum, “perfect.” he says, lowly.

a slight blush crept onto your cheeks at what just happened. you watch as he puts it in the pocket of his shorts. he smiles softly, “now i’ll always have a piece of you to remember and you do too.”

the slight blush was now much noticeable and you could feel your cheeks heat up more and more.

“you’re blushing.” he mutters, teasingly. his eyes still on your face.

“i’m sunburnt.” you lie, turning your head back to the ocean in front of you.

he lets out a low chuckle as he gently cupped your face to turn to him again. of course, that just made everything much worse, “you’re definitely blushing.” he smirks.

it was silent between you two, the tension was unbearable. not a single word came out of your mouth. you looked at his face, for some reason, the shade of blue in his eyes were much darker than usual. the soft golden hue of the setting sun crept onto his face, accentuating his features: the depths of his cheekbones, the teensy flush on his cheeks, everything.

it was like the world had just stopped and the only thing you could hear was the soothing melody of the ocean as well as your heart beating quicker and quicker.

you couldnt help but smile as his thumb gently caressed your cheek. he returned the warm smile as his eyes flickered to your eyes and then down to your lips. of course, you notice, your cheeks flushed a brighter pink.

his eyes lock onto your eyes as if he was silently asking a question. you notice as you meet his gaze once again. the way butterflies fluttered in your stomach in circles made everything seem real. it was happening— the moment you wanted to happen the most.

you nod your head. he continues to look at you, making sure if there was any second guesses. matt slightly tilted his head as he leaned in closer to you, finally closing the small gap and kissing you softly.

his lips on yours was like the missing puzzle piece. the way your guys’ lips moved in harmony, slowly, made the kiss seem like it was filled with care and meaning. he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip and then ran his tongue along it, soothing it and began to crave your taste more and more.

you open your mouth slightly, tilting your head as his tongue brushed against yours. his hands made their way to your waist and gently tugged them, signaling for you to go into his lap. without disconnecting the kiss, you straddle his lap and cup his face. soon enough, the once soft and slow kiss was filled with craving and passion, the pace slowly picking up. teeth and tongue were clashing and soft moans were being exchanged. it was music to each other’s ears.

eventually, you pull away to catch your breath. you slowly flutter your eyes open to see matt. his lips were slightly parted and swollen from the excessive kissing. your guys chest rose in sync, trying to make your breathing pattern even again.

“you’re perfect,” matt mutters, his head moving to your jawline, softly kissing it before trailing a series of kisses down your neck.

he gently nipped at the skin, soothing it quickly after with more kisses. you tilt your head back, giving him more access. you hands lightly tugged on his brown hair as he bit and sucked harder. you melt into his touch as his grip on your waist became a little tighter, his thumbs slowly rubbing small circles on your waist. the kisses trailed down once again to the top of your breasts. he pulled away to admire his work, grinning wide, “yeah this sight is better than the sunset.”

#𝜗𝜚 writings ˖ ࣪⊹ 𓂃 #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt girl #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matt fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #fluff

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trevlad-sounds · 9 months

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Intro. 00:00 Wojciech Golczewski-Otherworld 00:41

Survey Channel-Moss Tilt 03:39

Subphotic-The Sitting Tree 05:12

Chapter 1 12:26 Drapizdat, Reather Weport-Pattern #5 14:59

Minimal Drone*GRL-Lady Of The Mountains 17:56

Hyperlink Dream Sync-Galaxy Structure 22:42

MiDi BiTCH-Unearthly 26:48

Panama Fleets-Zealandia 31:25

Abu Ama + BedouinDrone-Leptis Magna 35:41

Chapter 2 49:03 Lo Five-Unbecoming You 50:58

Time Rival-Redox 55:41

Eje Eje-Saved From The Jazz (Spring) 58:26

Hello Meteor-Waterproof Thoughts 1:01:57

S U R V I V E-Hourglass 1:05:28

Depeche Mode-Don't Say You Love Me 1:09:48

Chapter 3 1:13:19 Vic Mars-Holloways 1:14:59

Pabellón Sintético-Ludwing 1:19:32

Joel Grind-Fallen Metropolis 1:28:27

ATA Records-Pineapple Diode Daiquiri 1:32:18

Mary Lattimore, Roy Montgomery-Blender in a Blender 1:34:45

Off Land-Numbers Station 1:41:04

Chapter 4 1:47:42 Robohands-Palms 1:49:33

Conflux Coldwell-Earth Sea and Sky 1:52:17

Outro 5 1:57:20

Album of background soundscapes by me

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burlveneer-music · 6 months

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VA - Anthology Of Contemporary Music From Far East - this compilation from Unexplained Sounds Group is great, but should have "experimental" in the title

'Anthology Of Contemporary Music From Far East' is part of the 'Sound Mapping project' published by ©Unexplained Sounds Group, and featuring anthologies of music from the African continent, the Middle East region, Latina America continent, Persia, Lebanon, Indonesia, China, India, Japan, Mexico, Peru, Scandinavia, Italy, Greece, South Africa, Finland, the Balkan region. Curated and mastered by Raffaele Pezzella. Cd layout by Matteo Mariano.

#various artists #compilation #avant-garde #experimental #unexplained sounds group #drone #2024 #Bandcamp

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pokemoncaretips · 9 months

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PSA from the Alolan rangers

This year, due to unusual cosmic activity, worm holes are going to be frequent, and this corresponds to a predicted rise in ultra beast sightings. The rangers have released information on how to keep yourself safe during the next 8 months until the wormholes die down:

Travel in groups and keep alert. We recommend keeping your pokemon out of their balls if feasible.

Familiarize yourself with the cries of ultrabeasts. [A link to a government website is attached with a soundbank of recorded ultrabeast noises]

If you are deaf or HOH, all service pokemon trained in Alola recently are trained to recognize these sounds, but if you have an older service pokemon or are from out of the region, the Deaf Society of Alola will be happy to loan you a trained pokemon for the duration.

Download the ranger alert app for your rotom dex or rotom phone in case of an encounter or sighting. Remember, it is a $5000 fine for making a false report.

Avoid unnecessary travel during this event. If you are someone who works with wormholes or has travelled through or been very close to one, we recommend leaving the region for the duration if you can or increasing security if this is not an option, due to the likelihood of ultrabeasts approaching you.

Ultrabeasts are frequently startled and confused by their sudden arrival here, and are much more likely to be aggressive or reactive. Do not engage ANY ultrabeast. Avoid eye contact and remain still.

Avoid picking up litter with your bare hands, particularly paper litter that seems folded.

Keep an eye on the skies.

If you find dead wild pokemon that have been drained of fluids, vacate the area immediately.

If you feel dizzy, confused or sleepy, leave the area. Pheremosa may be present. Wear a good quality n-95 mask to provide decent protection.

Avoid power plants if you aren't an employee there. If you are an employee, pay close attention to safety briefings and wear all provided PPE. If your employer is not providing PPE, anonymous reports can be made to the authorities here [A link is provided]

Avoid large forested areas and remain alert for a long, low rumbling noise. Stay away from unexplained wild fires.

Obey all evacuation alerts sent out, and keep a survival kit packed with clean clothes, important documents other necessities. A comprehensive list of essential items can be found at the Alolan governments website.

Avoid coming unto contact with naganadel toxin. This toxin is purple and slightly bioluminescent, with a sharp, bitter smell. It's powerfully adhesive and can quickly cause breathing difficulties. If accidental contact occurs, vinegar has been shown to begin breaking it down. Apply white vinegar to the area and contact emergency services.

Make note of stone walls in your area, and report if new ones appear with no signs of construction workers.

Stay safe and don't be a hero.

#pokemon irl #pokemon #ultrabeasts

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sluttyten · 17 hours

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Siren's Call

Kinktober Day 4 | Renjun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: y/n is a siren, fingering, dry humping, spanking, stuck in a wall, actually a lot softer than I originally meant it to be because I'm just soft for (and missing) Renjun

length: 5366

You’d always thought of yourself as an independent, self-reliant woman. You don’t need a man for shit.

Being a siren helped with that. Something about the ability to sing men to their deaths at sea just gave you a powerful, feminist perspective on the world. Your voice has power even when it sometimes feels like you’re just being reduced to the small voice of a woman in a man’s world.

Your mother, grandmother, aunts, and older sisters all helped you in the belief that you could do anything that you set your mind to.

Which, to be fair, was true most of the time.

Yet right now all of your determination was wasted.

You were stuck.

And your only hope of being free was a man.

A morning swim in the ocean was a typical part of your morning routine – it gave you the chance to stretch out your fins, to get the daily saltwater intake that you require as a siren. Usually you would follow the swim with nude sunbathing on the rocks behind your family’s home, sometimes accompanied by other women in your family, but usually alone.

Today you’d swum farther than you typically would, around the bend of the island, closer to the resort. Tourists were always there, covering the beaches and filling the water with so much sound as they jetskied, boated, paddle boarded, and played their loud music. Generally, you avoided the resort when you were in your siren form, but this morning you had a reason to swim a little closer.

You were hoping to catch a glimpse of a man.

Yesterday you’d been at work, wiping down tables in the resort’s lounge, when you spotted the prettiest man you’d ever seen. He was stretched out in a lounge chair, shaded by an umbrella. He’d been laughing at something his group of friends said, a vibrant drink topped with a pineapple slice and a little umbrella in hand, and a pair of yellow swim trunks sat low on his hips, his chest exposed between the open flaps of his palm tree patterned shirt.

He’d been so lovely. All fine features and a pretty voice, a sweet smile when you’d volunteered to be the one to run fresh drinks out to him and his friends. You’d overheard them talking about a morning paddleboard session to watch the sunrise.

“Aren’t you scared?” One of the guys asked.

“Why would we be scared?” The pretty boy you’re watching responded.

The scared one sits his drink down. “Didn’t you hear about the local legends? There’s more than just sharks in those waters that would take a bite out of us. They say there are sirens swimming in these waters, that they drown men and eat us. Remember when we were looking into coming here and there were all those reports of unexplained deaths and missing persons cases?”

Okay, so sometimes your family overindulges, but the locals are wise enough to steer clear of your hunting grounds. The money-hungry developers however couldn’t care less about the fact that they built an all-inclusive resort like a ready made all-you-can-eat buffet for you all.

The pretty one scoffed at his superstitious friend. “That’s because people are drunk and stupid. They drown, they don’t keep away from sharks, or they just have accidents.” His gaze flicks up to you as you offer him his new drink. “Thank you. Can I ask you something?”

You’d startled, but nodded.

“Have you ever seen a siren? Are they dangerous?” The way he asks the question tells you that he doesn’t believe.

You smile in return, your lips stretching wide over your teeth as you tell him, “Oh, yes, I’ve seen sirens. But they’re not dangerous, not really. Only if you provoke them. They’re more likely to seduce you than eat you.”

One of his other friends addresses you, and you reluctantly pull your gaze away from where his pretty eyes are watching your lips. His friend says, “I heard a rumor that if you capture a siren, she grants you a wish.”

The pretty one snorts with laughter. “You’re thinking of a genie.”

“Renjun, I’m serious! I swear, the local girl at the bar last night said that her uncle captured a siren once.” The other man sweeps his black fringe across his forehead, his eyes wide with sincerity. “She said the siren granted her uncle one wish, and that wish was to have sex with her. She claims her cousins are part-siren.”

The pretty one, whose name must be Renjun, rolls his eyes. “Sure. And what do you think?” He’s looking at you again.

You shrug. “Maybe if a siren is feeling generous or particularly inclined she might grant a wish. Guess you’ll have to see what you can find out there.” You wave a hand out towards the crystalline waters of the sea down the beach.

Renjun smiles and nods.

“I’m not going out there.” The scared friend states, folding his arms across his chest. “Not at that time. Dawn is when sharks are out hunting, so sirens probably are too.”

Which isn’t true at all. Sirens hunt at any time of day, anywhere. Including in broad daylight at the resort lounge.

Your uniform is a short, tight dress, and with your natural-born siren powers of seduction, it’s quite easy for you to work your magic. Pretty boy Renjun is wrapped around your finger. He sits aside his drink shortly after you walk away, and you can feel his gaze following you around as you deliver other drinks to other resort guests, as you move around cleaning off tables, as you dance along with one of your coworkers to a song playing. He watches the sway of your hips and the short hem of your dress.

You’re not surprised when he approaches you a little while later, when he starts flirting, when he lets you bring him around behind the storage area for the lounge chairs and umbrellas, when Renjun presses you up against the flaking paint and kisses you.

You’re the one that grabs his hand, encouraging him to slip it beneath your dress. He kisses across your collarbones, strokes your pussy over your panties. It’s only when you drop your hand to his ass and start groping a little that Renjun takes a little more liberty – he pulls your panties to the side, finally actually touching you as he grinds against your hip, his lips returning to yours for a feverish kiss.

Renjun cums with your sucking on his tongue, his cock twitching inside his pants against your hip, and just that simple fact that you made him cum without you really touching him takes you to your climax. His fingers are still pumping inside you, his thumb dancing against your clit, and when you drop your head back against the wall behind you, Renjun kisses down your throat, down to the curve of your breasts beneath your dress.

You would’ve done more, gone further, happily let him take you back to his resort room, but you were still technically on the clock. And just as Renjun’s tugging the neckline of your dress down so he can get to your tits, you hear your manager calling your name.

“Oh, shit, stop.” You push at Renjun’s shoulders, and he backs off. His hands fall away from your body, his swollen lips pouting as he watches you pull your dress back into proper order. “I’m so sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

“Can I see you again?” Renjun asks, reaching for your hand as you step around him. “Can we pick up where we left off?”

You’d like that. You really, really would. Even if Renjun doesn’t believe in who you are – the way he’d scoffed at the idea of sirens being real had stung a little, you can’t deny that – you’re incredibly attracted to him.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow afternoon.” But you intend to see him again before then. “See you around.”

So that’s why the following morning you’re on the hunt. Not for a meal – you ate a normal human breakfast before you walked out the back door – but for a bit of fun at the expense of Renjun and his friends.

The sun is breaking over the horizon when you spot them. Four boards sit high above you in the water. One of them boldly dangles his legs and arms in the water, making him a perfect target for a shark to mistake him as prey. You swim up towards them, veering a bit behind them so when you surface they won’t be likely to see you.

The water is so still this morning, making the sunrise stretch across the surface like a painting.

The voices of the men carry back across the water to you, and you hear pretty Renjun talking about how someone named Jisung should have come out here. “He was so scared of sirens, but all there are are little fish nibbling my toes.”

One of the others laughs loudly.

Maybe it’s stupid, but you just want to scare them a little bit. You sink below the surface again, and you quickly swim towards them. You let the water ripple above you enough that they notice, that they’re somewhat on alert, but you’re already diving down out of their sight in the dark water. You hear the murmur of their voices, Renjun’s laughter at the sound of alarm in one of the other guy’s voices.

He’s still so doubting, so quick to tease his friends about believing in sirens.

You rise up quickly, cutting so close by that you let your tail brush Renjun’s foot.

Even underwater, you hear the yelp and the swearing he lets out, and you look back up as you dive back down. His paddleboard nearly capsizes, his wobbling form just visible through the surface. He stabilizes himself on the board, his voice loud but you can’t make out his words.

Shortly after that, the sun is risen, and they begin paddling back toward shore. You follow at a distance, trying to stay deep enough that you remain out of sight as the waters lighten around you. But you swim away before they reach shore, heading back around the bend of the island towards your favorite rocky outcropping about halfway between the resort and your family’s home.

You pull yourself out of the water, hauling yourself up the rocks, and you stretch out on your back, letting the rising sun warm your bare skin and your scales. It takes time for your tail to separate into legs and for your scales to transform into human skin, and you just lie here to wait. You listen to the crashing of the waves against the rocks, the whistling of the breeze as it blows through the trees and through the cracks in the cliff that cuts down to this stretch of sheared away rock.

You shiver when your legs begin to split. It’s an itch, like when a cut is healing into a scab, and just like that, you long to itch it away, to dig your fingers into the growing crack between your legs, but if you rush it then your legs come out looking a little weird, as if you’d pulled a caterpillar out of its cocoon before it has finished its transformation into a butterfly.

Your fin disintegrates into sea mist, and you stretch your toes, roll your ankles. The transformation is almost done; you can feel your leg muscles, can shift your legs apart although you still feel the layer of scales tight against your skin. Just a little longer and you’ll rub your legs against the rocky surface like a snake shedding its skin.

“That’s incredible,” a voice says from several feet away.

You jolt upright, eyes flying open, heart racing as you look to see who has spoken.

Renjun stands there in those bright yellow swim trunks. You can see his paddle board beached on the rocks, the paddle jammed down into a crack in the rocky surface. His eyes are on your feet, on your developing legs, running along the iridescent shimmer until he reaches the point where your scales become human skin, and still his gaze roves higher to your breasts, your hair loose around your shoulders.

“I followed you here,” he says, taking a tentative step closer. “You startled me when you brushed against my foot, I’ll admit. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked down and saw your tail, your fin, and then I caught a glimpse of your face when you looked back up.” Renjun gestures back out at the water, saying, “I had to see for myself whether you just dressed up to scare my friends and I after you heard what we were saying yesterday, or if this was real. No one’s going to believe me that you’re real. I barely believe it.”

You tilt your chin, holding his gaze. “I told you I’ve seen sirens. You didn’t believe me then?”

Renjun smiles. “I’m more of a seeing is believing type of man. I need to experience things firsthand. I don’t buy into rumors until I’ve tested things myself.” He takes another small step forward. “So, is it true that if I capture you, you have to grant me a wish?”

Now you recognize that gleam in his eye – a man after a prize.

The last of your scales fall away as you bolt to your feet. Your legs tingle a little as the blood really gets flowing, but you’re running across the rocks, aiming for the cliff face, for the narrow passageway you know that cuts through the rock and will drop you right back to the sea, far away.

“Hey!” Renjun shouts behind you, and you dare a glance backwards. He’s running after you, and you put on a burst of speed.

It’s been a while since you used the shortcut. Years, actually. The last time was when you were playing hide and seek with your cousins when you were, like, thirteen. They were halfies (yes, one was almost definitely the girl that Renjun’s friend had spoken to at the resort’s bar), which meant that they couldn’t transform as fully as you, so you’d run from them much like you were now because you knew that they wouldn’t have been able to follow you into the waters on the other side of this shortcut.

All you had to do was squeeze through the window that wind erosion has made in the face of the rock entrance to the passage, and then you’d have just a dozen yards before you could slip back into the sea.

You run a little faster, wanting to put more distance between you and Renjun, but his legs are far more awake and weight-bearing than your newly redeveloped legs are. He’s gaining on you, and you know that your only hope is to slip through the shortcut before him.

And there it is.

The hole in the cliff opens up before you, at about waist-height, looking just as tight as you remember.

“Hey! Listen, I–!” Renjun is shouting, his voice just feet behind you.

You dive for the hole into the passageway, your hands grasping at the rocky edges, you pull yourself through, and you can see the other end of the passage, where it drops off again into the ocean.

But then something isn’t right.

One thing you’ve forgotten in your quick escape attempt is a simple fact. The last time you used this path you were years younger. You were thirteen, on the cusp of puberty, and your body hadn’t developed as much as it has in the years since. When you were thirteen you didn’t have the hips of a woman, but now you do. And your hips are too big to fit through the fucking window worn into the cliff.

You curse loudly, trying to back out, thinking maybe you’ll still be able to slip away before Renjun captures you. No, it’s not a law of nature that a siren has to grant a wish to her captor, but it’s also just not historically been a great thing for a siren to find herself caught.

You wiggle your hips in an attempt to back up, but it’s no use. The edge of the passage’s entrance digs into your hips and belly. A bit of it crumbles away, but not enough for you to be able to slip backwards.

And then you feel a hand. You hear Renjun’s voice, “Oh, shit, are you stuck?”

You squirm, attempting to kick backwards.

You make contact with something, and Renjun swears.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” You kick around, and you just scream when you feel his hands attempting to stop your flailing legs.

“Please!” Renjun cries out from the other side of the wall. “Stop kicking! Stop screaming!”

You wail a little louder, putting a bit of your power into the sound.

“Hush, now!” Renjun shouts, and he slaps his hand lightly against your thigh. “I’m trying to help you! Stop fighting me!”

You can’t see anything behind you due to the wall, and that’s stressing you out. Squirm and wiggle as much as you might, but it does no good. More of the edge of the hole keeps crumbling away, but not enough for you to be able to free yourself one way or the other.

“Can you just hold still?!” Renjun shouts loud enough to be heard over your cries. You feel his hands rest on your waist. “I’m going to help you! I was joking when I said I was going to capture you. God, will you please hold still, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

You do fall still, mostly because all the moving around is really beginning to hurt your hips and waist and belly.

“How are you going to help?” You ask.

Now that you’re done struggling and crying, it’s quiet enough that you can actually hear Renjun sigh on the other side of the wall. You imagine him standing there, hands on his hips, a little furrow between his eyebrows as he stares at the back half of you protruding from this hole in the cliff.

“I’m not really sure,” Renjun admits after a moment. “I could push maybe? Or should I try to pull you back out?”

You groan, trying hard not to feel embarrassed the longer you’re stuck like this. You keep imagining what you must look like right now from his point of view, and all you can visualize is your ass and pussy hanging out in the open, in full broad daylight. Just last night he’d had you pressed up against the storage area wall, making out with you and fingering you, cumming in his pants because he wanted you so much, and now he’s looking at you from a totally unflattering angle.

“Why don’t I try pulling you back out this way?” Renjun suggests, and you feel the suggestion of his hands on your hips, not quite touching but you’re sure his fingers are hovering just centimeters above your skin. “If you’re alright with me touching you right now?”

You nod before you remember that he can’t see you doing that. “Yes, that’s fine. Just watch where you’re touching, okay?”

His hands fit more firmly on your hips. His leg brushes yours, a foot pushes between both of yours as he braces his foot against the wall. Renjun pulls, and you yell out as the rocks dig in against your waist. He pushes you forward a little, then tries pulling you back again as if that little bit of momentum will have helped.

It doesn’t.

Renjun mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear through the wall. Then he pushes again, braces himself against you, and pulls back. He picks up this rocking motion that has you whining at the friction of the rocky edge against your skin, but you can feel the edge giving just a little more, so you don’t complain too much.

But then you realize that while Renjun is doing this, as he’s bracing himself against the back half of you –

“God, Renjun,” you groan and shout, “are you really getting hard right now?”

“No!” He denies even though you can feel the evidence against your ass right now.

“I’m stuck in the wall, and you’re getting hard?” You squirm around, but still it does nothing for you except to rub back against Renjun. “I bet you want to fuck me like this, don’t you? Like I’m just some warm hole that you stumbled upon.”

Renjun’s hand comes down against your ass, a sharp sting that takes you by surprise. “Listen, I happen to like you, not just all of this.” Again, his hand caresses your ass. You try to suppress the shiver that runs through you, the arousal that begins to pool hotly in your belly. “Sure, I’d like to have sex with you, but I would kinda prefer that you weren’t stuck in a wall for it. I really liked being able to see your face last night when you came on my fingers.”

“Yeah, well, I liked seeing your face when you came from humping my hip.” You wiggle again. “Just keep pulling like you’ve been doing, I think this might work.”

Again, he mumbles something.

“What?” You ask, and when he just presses himself right back against you, his hard cock lined up against your pussy, you kick your legs, trying to get him.

“Hey!” Renjun again, spanks a hand down on your ass. “I told you to stop kicking.”

You do it again just because you can. Another slap on your ass.

By this point, there’s no denying that you’re starting to get aroused. If he keeps spanking your ass, if he keeps grinding against you, you’re bound to get a little turned on.

Again, there’s his erection rubbing just there against you, and this time you press back into it as much as you can. You just need a little friction – this time, the good kind.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” Renjun asks, and he pinches your ass cheek.

“Maybe.” Your heart races as Renjun rolls his hips forward, and then with his hands on your hips, he yanks you back against him. Again, a few pebbles of the wall crumble away from around your waist, but it’s still nowhere near enough to set you free. “What are you going to do about it if I am doing it on purpose?”

Renjun’s response is unfortunately that he steps back, leaving your ass and pussy bared to the elements once again. “You’re just being bad. And you want me to help you out of this wall? Bad girls don’t get help. They get punished.” And then his hand comes down flat against your right ass cheek.

The moan that leaves you is loud enough that it echoes around the passageway in front of you.

“Did you like that?” Renjun asks, rubbing his hand soothingly over the burning imprint of his hand. “I think you must’ve, judging by that moan. And you’re so wet.” His thumb brushes along your ass, dangerously close to your pussy. He swings his other hand flat against the left side of your ass once and then again.

You whine, squirming around, feeling the burning heat of his handprint migrating to join the pool of arousal in between your thighs. God, if he spanks you again, you’re going to start dripping.

And then he does, once more to your right side ass cheek, and then quickly followed by a little slap directly between your legs.

“Renjun!” You cry out. If the wall wasn’t supporting you, you’d have collapsed to your hands and knees. Your legs tremble, and Renjun’s fingers quickly soothe the residual tingle left by the spank to your pussy. “Renjun, I’ll be good. Don’t stop.”

Perhaps that’s a confusing message, but at the moment, you don’t care. All you can think of is how much you want him to spank you again, to feel his hands on your ass and your pussy, you want him to keep touching you, you want him to loosen the front of his swimtrunks, get his cock out and fuck you even though you’re stuck in this stupid wall. You’re so wet and hot and desperate that you just need him inside you.

But if you’re being good, like you’ve just told him you’ll be, then what reason does he have to spank you some more?

“Tell me what it is you want, my siren. Sing me a sweet song, tell me what you want me to do to you.” Renjun’s fingers stroke between your legs. You feel the warm brush of his lips over the imprint of his hand on your ass. “Should we pick up where we left off last night?”

“Yes!” You gasp. “I want you to touch me, Renjun. I need you, need you inside me.”

As if that’s all that he was waiting for, Renjun slides both hands again to your hips, and he presses forward against you, sliding his bare cock right against your pussy, then thrusts into you.

It’s rough being stuck in this wall, getting fucked by the pretty boy that you just want to stare at. Your nails scrabble against the wall, just wanting something to hold onto as Renjun pushes you forward then pulls you back, rocking into you. He snaps a hand down against your ass again, and you jolt with a moan.

“You like that? Let me hear you, beautiful.” Renjun pinches, smacks, gropes you ass, rolling his hips forward to keep going with the push and pull. You keep moaning for him, your voice rising and echoing through the passageway. You’re sliding back and forth through the hole in the cliff face, with the rapid movements, with each time Renjun crashes into you and your combined lower halves collide with the edge of the entrance to the passageway, a little bit more of it crumbles.

The edge gives.

Just a little. Just enough.

The next time Renjun drags you back onto his cock by your hips, you keep pushing backwards, keep your upper half sliding back through the hole until you’re free.

You and Renjun tumble backwards, still connected when you land, and Renjun rolls you beneath him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his hands racing over you, from your scratched and aching hips to your waist, up your chest to examine your perfectly alright tits, and then he’s cupping your face between his palms, turning your face from side to side.

“I’m fine.” You push at his wrist. “Renjun, I’m fine. Let’s just….”

He sinks down over you, covering your mouth, silencing you with a kiss.

Your hands settle on his waist, squeezing when Renjun starts moving again, smooth and steady thrusts, kissing you feverishly, like he just can’t get enough of you, like he’s drowning in the feeling of being with you. You don’t even care about the pebbles digging into your back and hips and ass. All that matters is Renjun’s body above you, his lips on yours, his cock hitting repeatedly against your G-spot, his thighs against yours, his breath mixing with yours as he breaks the kiss to pant, his gaze and yours connect and hold.

You feel a surge of your power course through you, and that’s it.

Renjun bucks forward a few more times, pressing in, trying to get deeper, and then he’s pumping his hips, burying his cock in deep as he cums.

“I’ve got you,” he sighs even as he collapses against you. He can’t even really support himself, but he slips one of his hands down between your bodies to your clit, and his hips twitch forward, grinding into you while he circles your clit, working endlessly to get you to cum for him too.

And you’re not sure what powers Renjun possesses, but surely he must have some because your orgasm swells rapidly, bursting through you and wiping you out.

Renjun moans your name as you cum around his cock, as you wrap your arms and legs around him. You press your cheek to his, moaning in his ear while you ride out the throes of ecstasy while he’s still touching you, still rolling his hips forward.

Even when Renjun’s movements slow and then cease altogether, when you’re both just lying pressed together on the rocks with the sounds of the crashing waves in the distance, you just hold him. Your hearts beat together, your breaths almost syncing.

“I hate that you’re a resort tourist,” you confess quietly after quite some time. “You’re exactly my type, you’ve just given me a great orgasm, and you already know I’m a siren. I don’t want you to leave.”

Renjun laughs, brushing a kiss to your ear. “You’re a siren, why don’t you just drag me into the ocean so I never leave you. Isn’t that part of the origin of the myths about sirens?”

“There are lots of myths about sirens. Most of them aren’t really true.” You brush your fingers through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck.

“And the captive siren granting a wish, is that one true or false? Because I think, technically, I caught you.” Renjun lifts his head up so he can look down at you, smiling. “Do I get a wish?”

You don’t answer, instead raising your head to kiss him again.

The distraction works for a handful of moments, but then Renjun’s moving away, peeling his body away from yours. “Can I at least tell you my wish?” He asks, “In case you’re feeling generous or particularly inclined towards granting one?”

He pulls out of you, kneeling up while straddling your legs. You raise yourself up on your elbows, just looking at him, waiting.

“Ask me to stay,” Renjun says. “That’s my wish. Just ask me to stay a little longer, to extend my trip. I’m not saying that this has to be forever because that would be pretty bold to think that after we’ve known each other for such a short time, but just a little bit longer. You’re exactly my type too, I mean, minus the siren thing – but that’s only because I’d never considered that before. It's up to you, though, it's your call. Ask me to stay,” Renjun repeats, “and I’ll stay.”

You curl your hand around the back of his neck, bringing him down so his forehead rests against yours. “Renjun, will you stay with me?”

“Yes,” he agrees, nodding. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

But you don’t stay there, naked on the rocks together.

He has his friends to get back to, and you have work in the afternoon, so you can’t stay there as much as you might want to. Renjun eventually climbs off of you, and he pulls his swim trunks back on, though you lie there admiring him while he does. And then you walk back down to the edge of the rocks where he’s left his paddleboard. Renjun kisses you again at the edge of the rocks, and then he paddles back around the bend to the resort.

But Renjun stays.

You see him each day for the rest of the week, and when the week is up and his friends take the boat back to the mainland to fly home, Renjun stays. He meets your family, and he spends his days out in the water with you, swimming with you and teasing you about your tail, making love to you on a paddleboard which you capsize after things get a little too wild. You take him to a moonlit cove on the far side of the island, camp on the beach and stare at the stars.

Renjun falls in love with you, but he falls in love with your island too.

Maybe that’s the true magic of the sirens, you think some nights when you’re curled in your bed beside him. It’s not seducing men into drowning, but seducing men away from their busy lives, tempting them into staying and falling as much in love with you as you are with him.

a/n: I would have had this posted earlier, but I accidentally fell asleep oops. Anyway, here's siren Y/N with Renjun, like I said at the top of the post, this actually turned out a bit softer than I originally intended, but I'm in a constant state of missing Renjun hours since he's been on hiatus forever, so here we are.

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#renjun #renjun smut #nct #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

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If you could indulge me, can I ask for something with The Amazing Digital Circus gang, with an s/o who is seen as an anchor for the others? They are strong willed, happy go lucky, supportive, a mediator and ect. Well, could they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode, just crying in frustration and like punching a wall to calm down and go back to acting like nothing happened?

I have a thing with strong willed characters hiding their weakness for the benefit of others.

TADC cast x emotional anchor!reader !

oh ho ho you silly lil fella, you have literally just described my TADC oc down to a T, i am going to have so much fun writing this because im literally just. going to use my oc as a place holder for the reader, just without describing any lore bits unique to them and their design ngl i think i went insane with this one, tally hall music is doing something to me

CAINE:

if you thought you were good at hiding your human despair just know that caine already knows. the only reason i feel he wouldnt initially come to you in your lesser moments of weakness is that he can acknowledge that youre trying to hide this part of you. does he go comfort you, and risk making you try harder to surpress your feelings; risking you to just blow up one day and have your mental state just totally collapse in one go? would you feel put off at the knowledge that in this world you never really have full privacy? that definitely wouldnt make you feel any better. but when it gets to the point where you're screaming and crying in your room and punching the walls he would step in. drags you away from the walls, and if he has to this man will restrain you if it means making sure you stop swinging. hes seen the downfall of many people within the circus, but seeing it from someone he so deeply cares for hits a different way. he may be an AI, but he can still simulate feeling. its a harrowing sensation as he lets you cling onto him. i think he makes an effort to make in house adventures less overwhelming and intense, too scared to push you over the edge but also too scared to leave you with nothing to do to distract you. i think he would stay with you for the night, too

POMNI:

as selfish as it sounds, pomni cant help but feel.. something in her chest. seeing you, the groups beacon of light falter fills her with some kind of fear and despair that she cant put into words. it reminds her that no one is above helplessness, and that at the end of the day youre just as capable of abstracting as everyone else. i think, when she finally sees your fake demeanor finally slip when you thought you were totally alone, she feels bad. i mean shes your partner, and she didnt pick up on any hints that may have indicated your true state of health. i dont think she would try to force you to speak, as much as i want to say that she would try to push for you to talk about how you feel i think her attempts to reach out to you would fall on deaf ears. i think she would put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump back to the present moment. its an awkward gesture, with the jester herself being a little lost with these new feelings... i think you two would just sit in silence

JAX:

similar to pomni, he feels this intense and unexplainable pang at the sight of the most hopeful and brightest person in the circus crumble. ive already said it but ill say it again, its like being splashed with cold water, with how hard that sinking cold feeling hits him. makes half hearted attempts to cheer you up. its not that he doesnt care, its that hes stuck in the shock of seeing the happiest person he knows flip into... this.. for a split second he thought you were abstracting, that pit his stomach becoming colder for a second before he realizes whats going on. ive said this before as well, but jax is not the best comforter, in fact i think he might be one of the worst out of the main cast. but i think so far for the characters ive written for this post, he makes an effort to try to pull you up out of your hole. at least he lets you cry your feelings out, and he wont make you feel bad for doing so

RAGATHA:

stands there in shock like pomni, before immediately rushing to your side and tugging you away from a coat stand you were kicking and beating. hands on your shoulders she tries to snap you back to the present moment, trying to tell you that shes here. any feelings of the helplessness that she shares with the previous two characters is shoved down. this isnt about her, its about you. runs her fingers through your hair, if your digital body has any, and just. rocks you. when you finally calm down enough to be able to form clear words, she reassures you once more that shes here for you. the two of you stay in that position, holding onto one another for the entire night. i think it should be said, but for most of these theyre going to try to keep a closer eye on you and make it a point to ask you how youre feeling. ragatha especially.

KINGER:

it reminds him of queenie. the sight brings back so so so many terrible memories. for a second he doesnt even register that hes standing in the present, standing in your doorway. stuck and frozen for a solid minute before you finally notice him, and you hold each others gaze. finally, you crumble. what was the point of hiding your mounting anguish now that it was discovered by the one you care for most? at the sight of your crumpled form i think kinger would snap back, and rush to your side. he's pause, afraid that you would abstract like the queen, before forcing himself to push through that fear in the back of his mind. a moment where he is not fumbling with himself or shaking; be it because he wants to be there for you or perhaps he still holds some guilt aimed towards himself for not being able to save his old queen, he refuses to leave your side even if you tell him to leave. theres this caution in his actions, mixed with this sort of determination to make sure you're okay. like ragatha, he would make it a point to make sure you're okay long after this incident

ZOOBLE:

zooble would probably be the only one who doesnt make their presence known to you while you're in that state. not because they wont care about you, in fact they care about you a lot. but theyre so unsure of what to do, that they give to you what they would have wanted for themselves, if they were in your shoes. they want to grant you privacy, and to at least keep a shred of the now ruined façade you had been putting on for everyone. if it means keeping it will give you comfort, then they wont take that away from you. they wait outside your door, waiting for the height of your episode to pass before cracking the door open. they dont say anything about what they had just heard, but you seem to know that they know.. i mean they came in so soon after you had calmed yourself down enough.

"are you okay?" a dumb question, but what else was there for them to say? you so obviously werent okay, and you likely werent for a long time. they offer to leave, to give you some time to pick yourself back up, but they also make it clear that they wont go anywhere if you dont want to be alone. the night is tense and awkward, filled with conversation before they eventually broach the topic... i think you guys would develop some sort of secret code. i mean youve been hiding your true feelings for so long, and outwardly saying you need help would compromise that mask you put up for yourself. be it a certain sentence or arrangement of objects, you two come up with a indirect way of asking for security

GANGLE:

she feels so helpless, the most out of everyone. she tries to get your attention, but her words fall on deaf ears, if they even manage to pry themselves out of her mouth. far too weak to pull you away and keep you from hurting yourself, but too soft spoken to bark out a word to draw your attention to her. truly, she feels useless. she isnt able to capture your attention until you finally notice her. similar to kingers part, you fall. she takes an unsure step towards you, hands half raised in front of her as she debates if you want to be touched or not. she settles to sitting in front of you, just barely holding eye contact... she looks down when you tear your eyes away from her. finally finding her voice, i think she would ask if you want her to stay, or if you need anything. she tries to word it the best she can, but she lets you know that she doesnt think any less of you for your outburst. it happens to the best of us, really it does. if you want her too, she wraps herself around you and tries to soothe your shaking form

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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inell · 2 months

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Kindred Spirits

Buck/Eddie, Adult. Chapter 6 of 10.

Eddie has been a member of Paranormal Research Group for nearly four years after being recruited during one of their investigations. During that time, he’s found a job he enjoys, created a family that cares about him, become an unwilling reality TV star, and fallen in love with his best friend and partner, Buck. The team is traveling across the country filming the second season of their hit reality show, Haunted Case Files, and Eddie’s unknowingly going to find his skepticism challenged when Buck sets out to prove that there’s such a thing as destiny and fate, and that some things are meant to be.

In the week since they left The Myrtles, filming has gone smooth and easy. The hospital in Birmingham had been a dud, no activity at all. Not even Chim trying to persuade someone to claim it was haunted. After that, they had gone to Raleigh to investigate an old farmhouse. There had been some suspicious activity around the barn, noises on the EVP that sounded like a man discussing the weather, but nothing as undeniably unexplained as the door at The Myrtles.

There’s still a fading bruise on Eddie’s shoulder blade, and Buck’s become overly cautious when they’re filming together, like he’s somehow to blame for Eddie getting hit with the door. The flirting has continued, too. A more serious kind of flirting that makes Eddie feel like an infatuated teenager despite his best efforts to not to blush and get butterflies at the attention.

It isn’t just flirting, though. Buck’s been touching him more often, casual touches that they’ve always shared but now they have more intent behind them. Eddie often catches Buck watching him with that intense expression on his face, like he’s studying Eddie and learning everything he can about him.

It’s slightly overwhelming to have Buck’s entire focus on him like that.

Read Chapter 6 here on AO3!

#buddie #Inell fic

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cordeliawhohung · 10 months

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Sun Bleached Flies - Part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part ten of "soft spot"

Maybe things aren't as bad as they seem. Or maybe they're worse. It's difficult to tell when you're still stuck in that basement.

warnings: PTSD, angst, anxiety/panic attack, blood, hurt/comfort

wc: 7k

Simon was always good with a gun.

Well, not always, but he learned quickly after he joined up. Countless hours were spent down at the range, cleaning, loading, aiming, shooting, working on his technique and stance; becoming a lethal and effective killer. Practice makes permanent, and he found himself using a handgun to shoot several yards at a target at an outdoor range, which felt wrong. The distance was much too far, and he couldn’t even tell if he was hitting his target effectively, let alone if his grouping was alright.

That wasn’t the only thing that felt wrong. His M1911 felt too light, even with a full magazine, which seemed like it held too few bullets. He swore he loaded nine rounds in, but could only squeeze the trigger three times before the slide was stuck open, telling him he was dry. So he’d reload, rack the slide, and try again just for the same events to occur.

Eventually, he got frustrated. Too damn far to see the target properly, and he certainly had faulty equipment, so he holstered his gun and glanced around the area, defeated. The range itself was proper, but something seemed off about it. It was his feet, constantly slipping on something, and it wasn’t until he looked down that he realized it was sand. Desert-like sand, but it seemed too moist. Was he at the beach?

“Did I not say I would find someone who would make you talk?”

Simon turned around so quickly he swore his neck would snap. It was Bukin. Always Bukin. He grinned like a hyena with rotting teeth and a decaying core, and his chuckle was just as sour. An unexplainable rage began to smother him at the very sight of that creature, and his fingers twitched as he reached for his gun once more.

“You don’t deserve her,” Bukin continued as Simon aimed the muzzle of his pistol at him. “She would’ve been better off with me.”

A single shot echoed in the air, but there was no ringing in his ear, or crack in the distance. His gun didn’t jump, and Bukin still stood as if a bullet had never been fired in the first place. In anger, Simon stomped towards the man, gun still pointed at him, and pulled the trigger another time. Once more, there was nothing but a single shot and no blood.

“Or maybe you should have never had her at all,” Bukin mused as he crossed his arms over his chest, unphased. “You had to have known it would happen, yes? Death follows you everywhere you go, Ghost. It was going to get her eventually.”

The stiff end of the muzzle pushed against Bukin’s sternum, and Simon held it there firmly as he pulled the trigger once again. He had gone through the actions so many times. He knew what it sounded like when the breath was torn out of someone after the impact of a shot. Where was the thud of Bukin’s body? Why was the light still in his eyes?

“Ghost?”

Simon turned around at the sound of your voice. There was a small waiver in your tone that made his stomach drop, and he could feel his heart scream and shatter at the sight of you. Hands covered in blood, trembling lips, tears pouring from your eyes as you clutched your chest. You stared at him as if begging for him, as if he was the only person in the world who could save you.

When he tried to take a step forward, he felt his feet starting to sink through the sand, like the earth was trying to swallow him whole. Legs straining, he tried to push through, climb across the land and claw his way to you. You continued to stand there, hand clutched to your chest, blood flowing impossibly fast through the wound. Had he caused that? Or had you always been like that? Broken? Bleeding? Why did you look at him like that? Like you were forgiving him?

Sand swallowed him up to his waist by that point, and there was so much blood soaking the ground he couldn’t tell how much of it was yours, pouring from your wound, or his, pouring from his nails; broken and ragged from clawing to get to you. The worst part was, there were no hands holding him back, no biting words degrading him. Nothing in the world was stopping Simon from saving you except for himself. There was more blood than earth by that point, and the roaring sound of the ocean waves drowned out your crying and begging.

Eventually the earth felt pity on Simon, and the sand swallowed him whole.

Simon hardly needed to set alarms those days. His body did all the work for him, consistently waking him up with a frenzied jolt. A thick layer of sweat permeated his sleepwear, and he could feel strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. A terrible, chest rattling drum pounded in his body, and he could feel the way his ribs heaved in order to steady his heart.

The first place he turned to look was to you. Fast asleep on your side of the bed, the only clue that you were even alive was the subtle movement of your shoulders with your soft breathing. He knew he should have been happy to see you sleeping so peacefully, but when his eyes settled on the bottle of Ambien on your nightstand, a sour taste soiled his tongue.

Turning his attention to one of the windows, Simon took notice of the dull spring sunrise peeking through the curtains as he sat up. It was soft and white, like there were too many clouds in the sky for the sun to shine properly. It was only a matter of time before your alarm woke you up for work, and though he usually liked to stay around until you left, something was telling him to run. Run, fight, scream, because then at least the pounding in his chest would make sense.

Instead, he turned back to face you and your sleeping form. So soft and quiet underneath the covers, hidden away from the world that was much too cruel towards you. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against your temple, and not even that stirred you out of your sleep. Still, it made him feel a little better as he slipped out underneath the blankets and began to dress himself for the day.

One day the bed would grow warmer. He’d wake up with you in his arms again, smiling up at him, and his nightmares would finally fade away. But he was too afraid to cut you on the broken pieces of himself, and he was tired of seeing your blood. Your happily-ever-after would come someday. Eventually. Just not that day. Not while he still failed to save you, even in his dreams.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Once again, the sound of Jace’s shoes were driving you up the wall. The man had grown partial to wearing a full suit at work, for some strange reason, which only proved to annoy you even further. Strutting around in his charcoal grey suit all important-like while he breathed down the necks of every poor girl that worked there. He wasn’t a creep or anything, just much too enthusiastic about his job, and with no concept of personal space it didn’t take much effort for the man to irritate you.

Luckily, you were working on fixing a jam in the cash dispenser, which meant you were mostly out of your manager's line of sight. It was a difficult jam, something that couldn’t be fixed by simply opening the side panel and yanking the paper cash out by hand. Grime built up on money too easy, and the tips of your fingers had turned grey just from handling what little cash you had managed to yank out of the dispenser. No wonder that shit got jammed; there was so much dirt and dust stuck in that machine. Did anyone even bother to do any cleaning while you were gone?

You nearly laughed out loud at that thought. While you were gone. Why did you make it sound like you were gone by choice? Would it have been easier if you had just gone willingly? Would it have saved you from the pain?

No. No, you were at work and you needed to focus. There was no room for you to slip away, to go back to that house, that beach, that orchard, any of it. Your hands stilled on the machine as you took a shaky breath. No room for emotions; just for cleaning.

You stepped away from the machine for a short moment, trying to change your focus to something else while you reached for a can of compressed air. It made quick work of the dust and buildup crammed into the sensors and circuits of the machine, and you watched as it swirled in the air around you. A tingling sensation settled deep in your nose, and you tried not to think about the adverse effects that inhaling literal human grime and greed would have on your health.

Jace’s shoes hit against the stone floor of the bank again. Their terrible click-clack sound was not at all similar to boots on wood, and yet you still found yourself looking up towards the ceiling. There was no second floor to the building, no rooms above your head. Nothing but bright lights and fancy fixtures greeted you, and you found yourself swallowing hard as you looked back down at the dispenser. It was an instinctual reaction, something you couldn’t stop yourself from doing, and yet your heart raced all the same.

Sniffling, you shook your head and continued messing with the machinery in front of you. After opening a few more panels and removing a few parts, you found where the worst part of the jam had occurred. Someone didn’t check the cash well enough for slight tears, and it had gotten caught on one of the belts and torn, leaving a large pile of money behind it waiting to be processed. You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until you reached into the machine to pull the disfigured money out, and you did your best to ignore it as you started to close everything back up.

Something cracked behind you, and you froze. It was nothing more than someone scooting back in their chair, and you knew it. It was a sound you had heard plenty of times at work. You knew what it was, and yet your body didn’t. Your body heard it as a thump above you. A chair toppling over after someone shoved it in anger. Then it was followed by footsteps. Boots on wood. Stalking towards you as the sound descended downstairs. He was right on top of you. Right behind that door. Waiting to tear you apart.

Then his hand was on your shoulder. Always touching you. Always grabbing you like he owned you, like you were nothing more than a pet to him. Maybe you had been. No, you were less than that; you had just been livestock. An animal he tried to use to keep himself alive, something to bargain with. And his hand was on your shoulder, ready to take you away to be slaughtered.

“Hey, are we getting anywhere with this j-?”

When you turned around, you led with your elbow, and it collided with something squishy, followed by a yelp. Your eyes landed on your manager, Jace, who stood in front of you, doubled over as he held his nose. Blood splattered on the ground, staining his fingers as it poured uncontrollably from his nose. You looked down at the mess and noticed he had gotten some on the tips of his shiny, annoying dress shoes.

“Bleeding fucking christ,” he said through gritted teeth.

All you could do was stand there in shock with your hands hiding away your mouth as you looked at the mess you caused. You wanted to be angry, you deserved to be angry. He fucking touched you when a simple question could have easily gotten your attention. But he was bleeding, all over the floor, and when he looked up at you with involuntary tears in his eyes, you found your stomach churning with guilt.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked. You tried to sound large, but your voice only shook as you lowered your hands away from your face.

“What?” Jace asked, peeved. His voice was congested due to the blood he was trying not to choke on. “I should be the one asking you that! You broke my fucking nose!”

“Do you know how to talk to people without touching them?” you retorted. But your voice gave away what strength you tried to fake. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t stop shaking.

“My apologies, didn’t realize it was a bloody crime,” Jace muttered, the sarcasm almost covering his anger.

Even after all that time, it was always the same. Greedy hands on your waist in a bar. Vile hands holding your wrist, threatening to shatter it. The hands of your idiot manager trying to get your attention. Each and every time you knew it was wrong, that they shouldn’t have been touching you like that, and each and every time you were the one to blame for it.

It was always the same. Nothing had changed.

Different voices, kinder voices, tried to get your attention, but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of your terror. That pulsing mass of muscle in your chest, or the hyperventilating of your lungs. Sometimes your chest ached so terribly you thought you would die, and that’s how you felt in that moment. You’d just keel over on the stone floor and drown in the blood you accidentally spilled over a fucking panic attack.

So you left. You hadn’t even fully realized you were leaving until you were outdoors where the bitter spring rain almost instantly soaked you to the bone, even through the thick fabric of your blazer. There was the vague sound of the bank door opening behind you, but you ignored it and kept walking and prayed that whoever was behind you would leave you to be devoured.

Your walk home felt like a blur; like you were just some puppet with her strings being pulled. There wasn’t a single action you had taken the last few days that actually felt like your own will. You had turned into a simple bystander for your own life. People said that spring rain washed away everything so that there was room for new growth. The only thing you felt in the rain was cold, and it certainly didn’t wash away the anger that tried to strangle you or the sobs that choked you.

When you arrived home, everything was quiet. Usually Simon was there to greet you, but you also usually spent more than two hours at work. Really, it was for the best that he wasn't there anyway. He had always managed to find you in such vulnerable states, but you weren’t sure if you could handle him seeing you like that. Soaked to the bone, uncontrollable tears falling from your eyes, having probably just lost your job after essentially assaulting your manager.

It was a coo that caught your attention. Brought you back to reality, if only for a moment. It came from Boo, of course, who stood near your feet. He looked slightly disgruntled at the small puddle of water that had gathered around your feet, like he wanted to rub against you but didn’t dare get his paws wet. You wished you had his ignorance.

You felt bad for doing so, but you left Boo by the entrance as you pushed deeper into the apartment, headed straight for the bedroom. Your blazer was peeled off of your body and you carelessly left it in the middle of the hallway before hiding yourself behind a closed door. It didn’t take Boo long to track you down and attempt to paw at you through the gap under the door but you just couldn’t. He was an ignorant cat, and still you wouldn’t put him through the horror of watching your breakdown.

A squelching sound followed every step you took as you walked to sit on your side of the bed. The utter anxiety and pain in your chest had diminished but you could feel it slowly being replaced by a terrifying numbness. In order to preserve itself, your body had placed itself into some sort of limbo, and you didn’t know what to think of it.

Sighing heavily, you wiped at the moisture on your face, unsure if it was from your tears or the rain. When your vision cleared, your eyes settled on the bottle of pills on your nightstand. A half empty glass of water sat next to it, almost enticingly. Fucking Ambien. You shouldn’t give in, and you knew that. You’d fuck up your sleep schedule even more than it already was. But whatever was happening, whatever it was that was going on inside of you, you didn’t want to be conscious for it.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Smoking after any sort of physical training was certainly a terrible idea, and Simon was fully aware of this, yet he didn’t care enough to stop himself. So he stood outside, close enough to the building that the rain didn’t get him too wet, despite the fire laws that went against it, and puffed away. He hoped the rain would wash away any lingering scent of nicotine from his clothes.

He worked harder than he should have, and his body paid the price for it. Achy muscles plagued his arms, legs, and for some reason his core, even though he hadn’t focused on it all that much. Progress was slow, and he was still further away from his old self than he liked. A part of him wondered if he would ever see combat again. Did he even want to after everything that happened to you? Could he stomach leaving you again, not knowing if you’d be there when he came home?

The thought of leaving you made him sick.

It didn’t take him long to finish his cigarette, and he shoved his mask back over his face before venturing off into the storm. Noon would roll around soon, and he figured he’d need to eat a big meal after the hours he put in at the on base gym. After suffering through mid-day traffic for longer than what felt legal, Simon arrived home where the rain was just as unrelenting. Avoiding the moisture as much as humanly possible, he dove into the apartment.

A small puddle of water greeted him at the entrance, and he found his eyes narrowing at the sight. Was there a leak? Dark eyes glanced up at the ceiling, worried the roof wasn’t holding up, yet there didn’t seem to be any sign of cracks or a burst pipe. Sighing, he slipped into the kitchen where he removed his mask and coat and set it on the counter. His pack of cigarettes peeked out of his pocket, as if trying to tempt him to take another, but he ignored that thought in favor of leaving to grab a towel to clean up the mess instead.

Simon hardly took a step into the hallway before he froze. Something was wrong. A sopping wet mess of clothing sat in the center of the hallway, and a ring of water settled around it. It wouldn’t be good for the flooring, but that was the least of his concerns. The door to the bedroom was closed tight, and Boo laid on his side, nose peeking underneath the crack as best as he could. Simon ventured a few steps closer, catching the attention of the impatient feline, and he instantly hopped up and trotted up to the man, meowing.

“What’s up, mate?” he asked, leaning down to gently scratch the cat's ears. The question was playful, but it didn’t help the uneasiness that had an iron grip on his stomach.

Boo followed Simon to the door and was the first to dash in the moment it was opened. Your sleeping frame was the first thing he noticed, and if he didn’t know better he would have thought you hadn’t moved at all since he left in the morning. But you were on top of the covers rather than under them, and in your work clothes instead of pajamas. You hadn’t even bothered to take off your shoes.

Concern didn’t even begin to describe the mess of feelings swirling in Simon’s head. You were supposed to be at work, not a soaking, unconscious mess in bed. Carefully, he approached the side of the bed where he tried to assess you as quietly as possible. No marks, your breathing looked and sounded okay, your eyes fluttered like you were in deep sleep; you looked fine. But you weren’t. He knew you weren’t, and he didn’t like that.

Maybe he should have left you alone, but he couldn’t stop the hand that reached for your shoulder. Your clothes were still moist, and his skin stuck to your dress shirt as he gently shook your shoulder. You were icey to the touch, and he tried not to flinch at the feeling.

“Sweetheart? Hey…”

His voice was so soothing it had to be a dream. No, not just his voice, but everything. It all felt so far away and muted, yet so close, as if something was clawing inside of you, trying to get out. Lungs expanded with a deep breath, your eyes fluttered open, and your vision was completely obscured by Simon. He knelt on the floor next to the bed where he leaned forward so that his hand could brush against your cheek. It was only then that you realized how cold you were. Damp clothes clung to your body as if trying to suffocate you, and your muscles attempted to turn into stone with how stiff they were. It was like waking up on wet grass.

And it all came back to you. The crunching sound of your elbow smashing a nose, the panic that footsteps stirred in your chest, how you couldn’t be touched without feeling Bukin instead. You stared at Simon with glossy eyes, and you tried to open your mouth to speak but stayed silent instead. His concern only grew at your silence, and you watched as the proof of it etched onto the features of his face. He looked at you like that so often you were certain his face would be stuck that way.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked softly. Everything he did was soft when it concerned you. Like he feared he would shatter you.

“I… don’t know.” Your response spewed out of your mouth before the thought was even formed. The Ambien you had taken shrouded your mind in murky water, and you weren’t sure if you should be grateful for it or not. Neverbefore had you ever felt so light and heavy at the same time.

With an odd burst of energy, you sat up and Simon’s hand fell from your face. It was as if no time had passed at all. You had just been stuck in some sort of limbo and thrown right back into reality the moment you had woken up, and fuck did it hurt. A heavy dryness overwhelmed your throat to the point you were certain your vocal cords would crack, and there was some evil creature running around wreaking havoc in your head.

“I’m gonna get some water,” you said as you scooted towards the edge of the bed. Each word that you spoke felt too big for your mouth, but you let them tumble out anyway.

An uncomfortable squish sounded as your still soaked shoes hit the floor, but you ignored it as you pushed yourself to your feet. Boo curiously paced in front of you, eyes trained on your face as if he too was attempting to read your mind, but you ignored him as you wandered out of the room.

You hadn’t realized Simon followed behind you like a lost dog until you reached the kitchen. Before you could even reach for a cup, he had already gotten one down for you and was at the sink filling it up. Rain continued to fall just as fiercely as it had been during your walk home, and you could feel the low grumble of thunder reverberate through the entire complex.

“Did you walk home?” Simon prompted as he held the cup for you to take. He was trying to test the waters. Trying to figure out why you were home, but not fully there with him. In a way, you reminded him of himself, half awake, walking around the house smothering toothpaste on his face in a traumatic driven daze.

“Yeah,” you answered bluntly. Sniffling, you raised the cup to your lips and took a small sip of water before continuing. “My manager was just, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I’m probably fired anyway.”

“Fired?” Simon repeated, the disbelief obvious in his voice despite how hard he tried to keep his tone neutral.

You really didn’t want to talk about it. Because you could say that you smashed Jace’s face with your elbow, and you could say that you didn’t like the sound of his shoes, or how he touched your shoulder. That was easy. Those were facts. What you didn’t want to explain was why. Why you responded with such violence, why the sound of his shoes ignited some deep fear you tried to smother, what you were reminded of when he touched you.

So you looked around the kitchen in an attempt to distract your brain enough to come up with a lie. You had always been so terrible at lying, and you knew Simon was aware of that fact, too. Eyes focusing around the room, you looked everywhere as long as it wasn’t at Simon. An old grocery list held up by a magnet on the fridge. The slightly cracked handle on the microwave. Simon’s jacket bunched up on the counter.

A boiling heat rumbled in your chest when your eyes landed on a small cartridge that slid halfway out of the pocket of his jacket. At first you thought your eyes attempted to play a trick on you. Something that the Ambien made you hallucinate. But the more you focused on it, the clearer it became; as did that anger that threatened to engulf you.

“Have you been smoking?” you asked, eyes refusing to tear away from his jacket.

Simon followed your gaze, and the muscles in his throat flexed as he swallowed. You didn’t even give him time to answer before you set your cup of water on the counter next to you and snatched the cigarettes out of the jacket. Why did the sight of it make you so angry? No, you knew exactly why. You just kept playing dumb with yourself. Every time you thought about it, you were transported back in time to where the scent of it clung onto Eric’s clothes. How it burnt your nose when he got close enough you could smell it on his breath. It was the first thing you smelled when you woke up on the ground after Adakskin beat you. That terrible smell had haunted you for years, and you didn’t think you could stand it if it started following Simon around, too.

You marched over to the bin on the other side of the kitchen, and Simon called after you but you didn’t respond. Every muscle in your body had grown so taut that you had slightly crushed the cartridge before you tossed it with the rest of the rubbish. A restrained and frustrated sigh left Simon as he reached his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. There was something exceptionally irritating about not getting answers. Sure, he was used to people holding out on him during interrogations, but allies had more or less always been truthful with him. You had always been truthful with him. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t painful seeing you struggle and not knowing how to help.

“Sweetheart. Love, look at me,” Simon urged. It took everything in him to keep his voice mellow, to not get too frustrated. Like Gus had said, you didn’t have the same tools going into all that like he did. Eventually you did turn to look at him, eyes already growing wet. His gaze softened as he relaxed the muscles in his shoulders and face; it was the closest you had ever seen him to looking truly sad. “Talk to me.”

Every emotion that you had forced into dormancy began to erupt in that moment. All the anger you tried to swallow, the grief you tried to bury, the disgust you felt towards yourself; it all came up to the surface. The pounding headache in your skull didn’t help with the tightness you felt crushing your chest, and for a moment all you could do was muster a defeated shrug, hands bumping against your thighs.

“I don’t know how to,” you admitted in frustration. “I don’t know how to talk to anyone anymore. I want to. At least, I think I do. But, fuck, sometimes I think about what I want to say and I sound fucking insane.”

Pausing for a moment, you reached your hands up to rub at your face. It was difficult to tell if it was because of the Ambien or not, but everything felt fuzzy. More than it normally did those days. Your thoughts, your words, your movements, it all felt unreal. Even so, a flood had started. Everything had been building up inside of you for months, nearly crushing your organs with the pressure, and it felt like there was nothing you could do but watch it pour out of you.

“Like, I was fucking kidnapped. That sounds fucking crazy, like something you’d see on a true crime show, not- not something I’m supposed to experience,” you continued, pulling your hands away from your face. “And it’s weird because for a while I was just some sort of trophy for them. Something to taunt you with and it- it was fine when it was just that but fuck Simon he- that crazy bastard he-”

Words failed you, and you choked back a sob as you bit into one of your knuckles. Simon braved a step towards you as the tears started to stream down your cheeks. Somehow, talking about what happened was more painful than actually experiencing it.

“He didn’t even do anything serious so I feel like an idiot for even freaking out about it but I can’t- like- fuck, sometimes people touch me and it’s him. It doesn’t make sense but it’s just- it’s him and it terrifies me. Every footstep I hear sounds like it’s above me even when I’m in a single story building, the smell of cigarettes reminds me of waking up on the fucking floor.”

You choked on the snot building up in your nose and you paused for a second to sniffle and wipe away the uncontrollable swell of tears that fell from your eyes. Something in you urged you to stop talking, to just shut up before you said something you regretted, but you couldn’t. There was no dam in the world strong enough to hold back everything erupting inside of you.

“Sometimes I think about how he touched me, dressed me in his coat, the things he said to me and I feel disgusted. He ruined me. I can scrub at myself as long as I want and I still feel it. I can’t get clean. I know it doesn’t make sense but I don’t know how else to explain it,” you continued.

Simon only grew closer, slowly, as if he was trying to coax a wild animal into his grasp. Maybe that’s what you had become. Some feral beast that took too much effort to love. He was close enough for you to grab, and you wanted to so badly it ached. You wanted for him to reach out and swallow you whole because maybe then you’d finally be clean.

“And I want to tell you everything but I feel so ashamed to be alive right now,” you sobbed. “He ruined me. That sounds so fucking stupid but he- I wished he had been worse. I really, really do. They fed me and kept me alive and kept me clean like a goddamn pet when really the whole time I wished they would have killed me already because I felt like I was betraying you by being unharmed. But they didn’t. And I’m still alive, and I don’t think I’m supposed to be because I’m not- I don’t think I’m really here.”

There it was. Bubbling in the back of your throat. The confession that felt like it would kill you if you admitted it out loud. But there was no stopping it. All you had ever done was watch your life go by from the sidelines anyway.

“I can hear something that reminds me of being back there, and I know. I know why it scares me and what it reminds me of. I can reach out and talk to you because I know- I hope that you still love me after everything but I just can't because I’m not really here. I’m still in that fucking basement, Simon. And I want to be here with you, and I want to feel better but I’m stuck there.”

You hadn’t realized how close Simon had gotten to you until his hand brushed against your upper arm. That was the last straw. Whatever composure you attempted to hold together shattered, and a moment later you found your face buried into his chest. His arms wrapped around you so firmly it was like he attempted to hold you together. When your knees gave out underneath you, Simon fell with you. Gently, he lowered the both of you to the ground so that you sat in his lap while he leaned against the cupboards under the countertop.

Each sob rattled your body so violently you were sure you would break apart then and there, but Simon wouldn’t let you. His hand engulfed the back of your head where he kept you close to his chest, rocking you ever so gently. There was something bittersweet about the way he kissed the top of your head, how he buried his face as best as he could into the crook of your neck. He held you until your body was finished rocking your world with wails, and even then he still continued to hold you.

“There’s nothing in this world I care about more than you,” he spoke once the waves settled. “I wanted to tear the world apart when I realized you were gone, and I thank whatever sick creator we have that you’re alive. I’m not gonna judge you for doing what you had to in order to survive. It’s not gonna make me love you any less.”

His confession nearly had you sobbing all over again, but you bit into your lower lip and forced yourself to keep your composure. You weren’t sure if you even had many more tears left to shed, anyway.

“You should have never gone through that at all, and I’m sorry you did,” he continued. The hand on the back of your head adjusted slightly, gently moving your shoulder back. Taking his hint, you leaned back some and looked up at Simon. His thumb ghosted along your cheek, wiping away any remaining moisture. “We’re gonna get you through this, yeah?”

It felt impossible. Getting through it. Getting better. You wanted to deny it, claim that healing was meant for people who were still mostly whole. But you wanted to get better so badly it hurt. You swallowed and sniffled some as you nodded in agreement, and moments later he pulled you back into his chest once more.

That was the first time that you really felt like you were home. Crumbled on the kitchen floor in Simon’s arms. There was something lovingly tragic about it; about being destroyed and still having someone to love you. It was a promise. The kind that couldn’t be broken. So when he pressed yet another kiss to the top of your head and mumbled the words, “I love you more than anything,” you believed him.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It had been months since Simon had last seen you smile. Truly smile. Yet there he was, sitting on a log in the middle of the Forest of Dean watching you giggle as you dipped your hands into a small stream. The August heat was unrelenting, even through the canopy of foliage overhead, and he watched as you rubbed the fresh water up your arms. The two of you were roughly two hours into your hike, and it had been awhile since he had last seen you so energetic. Each waving flower, small critter, and neat rock had to be enjoyed, and you made sure to point out everything worth seeing.

Digging his canteen out of his bag, he took a deep sip of water as he watched you pick rocks out of the stream bed. You’d run your fingers over it, cleaning off any clinging dirt so that you could enjoy whatever colors were hidden underneath, and then place the item back in the water where you had found it. Even though your back was turned to him, he could still imagine the grin on your lips.

The last few months that you had been in therapy had been treating you well. There were some things that were still difficult, old wounds that would never quite heal right, but you laughed more often, and talked as if you had never known a moment of silence in your life. It felt nice. Better. Things would never be back to how they used to be, though sometimes he wished they would, but it was more than enough to hear you laugh again.

A gasp left you, and Simon watched as you slowly straightened into a standing position. Knowing that he was about to be beckoned over, he hid the canteen away in his pack once more before sliding off of the log he had been using as a bench.

“Simon, come look,” you said quietly, as if afraid to disturb something.

With careful feet, he snuck up by your side where he was quick to notice what had caught your attention. A small dragonfly had perched itself on the tip of your forefinger where its wings glinted like church windows in the obscured sunlight. It stayed remarkably still for a creature that chose an excited human to rest on. You whispered how beautiful it was, how the blue of its body mirrored that of the sky, or how the pattern on its wings could be put in a museum.

Once it had its fill of compliments, it fluttered off of your finger and back into the heart of the forest where it vanished from sight. You stood there for a moment with Simon by your side, the toes of your shoes just kissing the crystal clear stream water by your feet. Everything was fresh, warm, and real. Nature surrounded you on all sides, and it was the most free you had felt in a long time.

“I’m excited,” you suddenly blurted out, attention turning to Simon. “To move into our new place.”

He hummed in response as his hands found your hips, gently pulling you closer to him. Smiling, you leaned into him with the palm of your hands flat against his chest. He looked at you with such adoration, like even after all that time the two of you had been together he still couldn’t quite believe you were his.

“It’ll be a good workout. Lifting all those boxes,” he quipped with a slight smirk. “For me, anyways.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and swayed in his arms, yet your gaze found its way back to those lush, dark eyes of his. As if your bodies were magnetized, his lips found yours in a sweet, deep kiss, and the warmth of the sun couldn’t even compare to the warmth that ignited inside of you. And it felt nice, beyond nice, being able to kiss him without fearing you’d taint him. You could hold onto him, and lean your head against his chest when the kiss was done, and you were there. You were there in Simon's arms in the midst of a forest and nowhere else.

“It’ll be dark soon if we keep going at this rate,” you sighed contently as he gently swayed you back and forth.

“I’ve got a flashlight,” he said.

“‘Course you do.”

“Always prepared.”

Another playful eye roll followed that comment, and the two of you slowly separated from one another. After recuperating, you started down the trail where you once again continued pointing out every single little thing that caught your attention. Simon watched on with a small smile and offered cheeky comments when it fit just so he could hear you laugh more. It was freeing to be out there in the fresh air, away from the noise of the city. It was even more freeing to know that soon you would be in a place where everything felt different and clean. Soon, you and Simon would be able to start over again, and you couldn’t help but grin to yourself at that thought.

As far as you were concerned, each step you took along that trail was another step closer to getting out of that basement.

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