#and generally i’m trying to shift both of those things in a different direction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arc852 · 7 months ago

Text

Shattered Reflections Ch. 1

Summary: Joel and Skizz wake up in the middle of a field, confused and sore. With no memories except for their names and the fact that they are borrowers, they decide to take things one step at a time. Starting with making a shelter for themselves.

Meanwhile, when Joel and Skizz never show up for the beginning of the season and messaging them yields no results, panic ensues and it's now the hermits' mission to try and find their missing friends.

Word Count: 3776

AO3 Link

I hope you guys enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

“Um, hello, welcome to Hermitcraft season 10!” Mumbo greeted everyone despite being put on the spot. “Um, it’s really good to have you all here and uh, we have some new people on the server. Should I announce those? Should I-should I point in their general direction? Is that a good idea?” Mumbo stuttered out, looking around for said new hermits within the circle to do just that. But after a quick glance around, Mumbo realized he didn’t see them at all. “Wait, where are they?”

The other hermits blinked and all at once, they looked around the circle as well, slowly realizing that yeah, their two newest members were nowhere to be seen. “Did they run off already?” Iskall asked, looking behind him and out into the plains.

Xisuma, eyebrows knit, brought up the log on his comm, looking through it. “They haven’t logged in yet.” Xisuma did a few other things on his comm, the rest of the hermits watching with different levels of patience. Their admin then looked up, catching eyes with Grian and then Impulse. “They did message you guys saying they were coming, right?”

Grian and Impulse were the ones in charge of messaging Joel and Skizz specifically. Impulse and Skizz were obvious, but Grian and Joel also had quite the history with each other. Grian even went so far to say that Joel was one of his best friends. So it made sense to have those two not only be the ones to keep in contact with them leading up to the season, but also be the ones to invite them in the first place.

Xisuma watched them both nod. “Yeah, I literally got a message from Skizz right before this that he was hopping on.” Impulse said, getting out his comm and showing the screen to Xisuma. “He should be here.” Impulse’s voice was laced with concern, knowing that this was very unlike his best friend.

“Same with Joel.” Grian piped in and Xisuma looked back over to him to see he was typing something on his comm with a furrowed brow. “And I just messaged Lizzie. She said he left a while ago.”

“Strange…” Xisuma couldn’t help but mutter out loud.

“It’s not like Joel to get cold feet like this.” Gem said and those that knew Joel from various life games and other SMPs nodded in agreement.

“It’s not like Skizz either. He was so excited, even if he was nervous about it, no way he would skip out on all of us like this.” Tango also chimed in.

“So…what? We think something happened to them?” Doc said with his arms crossed. But despite his demeanor, the hermits knew he was also concerned about their new members.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Xisuma said, trying to calm his hermits. “Perhaps they just got lost in the Hub.”

“Uh, guys? I think this may be more serious than we think.” All the hermits turned back toward Grian at his words, noticing how Grian was looking over at Impulse’s comm as the taller man typed away at it. Grian’s gaze seemed to shift between Impulse’s comm and his own, both hermits having the beginnings of panic on their features.

“What is it?” Xisuma asked and Grian met his eyes.

“We just tried messaging both Skizz and Joel and…” Grian trailed off, lifting his comm up for Xisuma to see properly. On the screen were several messages sent by Grian to Joel within the last few minutes. Unfortunately, each one came with a little red ‘Not Delivered’ line underneath. Xisuma didn’t need to see Impulse’s comm to know the same thing was happening to his messages with Skizz.

“Well…” Xisuma said, and even through his helmet you could see his brows furrowed in concern. “There are many reasons why a message wouldn’t go through. However… given the circumstances and our knowledge of Skizz and Joel…”

Xisuma straightened up, suddenly going from fellow hermit to admin. At the change, everyone was at attention. The beginnings of conversation at the revelation that no messages were getting through were cut off as they watched Xisuma bring up the code. “Hermits! We have two members who, as we know it, are missing. So here is the plan. I’m going to get into contact with some other SMP admins, SMPs where Joel and Skizz could be. I’ll send some of you there and others will go into the hub to-to…” Xisuma stuttered and trailed off, freezing like a deer in headlights as he saw something within the code.

Zedpah, who was next to Xisuma, tried to look over at the screen of code but couldn’t read it for the life of him. He shrugged in the other hermits' directions.

“Shashwamy? What is it?” Keralis asked gently, breaking Xisuma out of his stupor.

“Sorry, sorry, I…there’s something here in the code. I don’t…I don’t recognize it but it’s-that is to say I think-”

“Spit it out already!” Bdubs exclaimed, getting antsy.

Xisuma shook his head and finally looked away from the code and toward all the hermits. “I think Skizz and Joel are on the server after all.”

***

Joel groaned as he came to, feeling like he had just run full force into a mountain. His whole body, some way or another, felt incredibly sore and achy, and it was just all around painful. He was lying down, that much he could tell, face down in what was probably dirt. The same mountain he had run into might as well be placed on top of him too, because it felt impossible to lift himself up.

Joel let out a slow breath and opened his eyes. Or tried to anyway. He only managed to open one of them. His other eye was currently smushed against the ground. Which did happen to be dirt. Wonderful.

He pulled his fingers together, getting a handful of dirt in the process. He grunted at the pain of even doing just that but at least he was able to move. He opened his fist, releasing the dirt.

Eventually, after more tiny movements, he was able to use his sore arms to sit up. He brushed the dirt off his face and tried his best to get it out of his hair. Once he was fairly cleaned off he was able to open his other eye up and finally take a look at his surroundings.

Things seemed normal, though he didn’t recognize the area at all. It seemed as though he had ended up in a grassy field, nestled by the roots of a tree. In the distance he noticed a river, which would be a good source of clean water but it was also quite the trek away. He would have to think more about that later. He did his best to turn his head around to try and look past the tree without moving so much, still in quite a bit of pain, and he could see the edges of a mountain in the distance.

Despite the familiarity of the giant world he lived in, he also couldn’t help but feel a bit…off.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a noise coming from beside him. He looked to his left to see another person laying in the dirt. Lucky for the guy, he was laying on his back, in that position the most dirt he would get on him was in his hair. Unluckily though, he seemed to be in the same amount of pain Joel had been in. Joel couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. “Hey, are you alright?” Joel asked, reaching down and gently nudging the guy’s shoulder.

The guy was broad shouldered with multiple scars running up and down his arms. He even had some on his face. He seemed…strangely familiar somehow. But Joel couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Hey, come on, get up.” Joel said, nudging him again. If Joel could get up then this guy could. Probably. Hopefully.

“Nnngh…Don’t wanna,” Came a mumbled reply. At least that was a good sign, meant the guy was alive at least.

“Let me guess, arms are sore? Achy? Feel like you’ve hit a mountain?” Joel listed off and took notice that the guy’s eyes opened to look at him in surprise. Joel smiled a bit at that. “Well, same here.” He answered his own questions. “But I seemed to get up just fine so I guess I’m just stronger and bigger and more handsome than you.” Joel rattled off, the words slipping off his tongue easily despite the fact he had no idea where that had come from.

The familiar stranger groaned again but slowly moved his arms to bring himself up onto the same level as Joel. Well, mostly. Joel was annoyed to note the man was taller than him, which he could tell even with the both of them sitting.

“What happened?” The guy asked, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. Joel shrugged, rubbing his arms to try and lessen his own ache.

“Not sure, I’m in the same hole as you are.” Joel answered. He tried to think back on what could have made either of them end up here but he was drawing a blank.

In fact, as Joel tried to think about other things and dig deeper into his own memory, he realized he was drawing a blank in a lot of other categories as well. No matter how hard he tried to think back to something, to some memory, to people, he came up blank.

It was a bit terrifying.

“Hey, uh, do you happen to remember…anything? Just curious.” Joel asked the guy, his voice going up an octave at the fear he felt. He then watched as his companion’s face went through the expressions of someone realizing that no, they did not. Joel could only assume he had had the same expressions on his face just a moment ago.

The other guy ran a hand through his hair after a few moments. “No. I can’t remember…I can’t remember anything.”

“Awesome, that’s…that’s great.” Joel said with a wince. “Same here, by the way.” Joel thought to say, just in case it hadn’t been clear by the fear in his voice.

The other guy was quiet for a moment and Joel noticed he looked like he was in deep thought, with his eyebrows furrowed and staring off at nothing. Again, Joel figured he had looked much the same a second ago as he himself tried to sift through any memories he might have had. Surprisingly though, as the stranger’s eyes lit up briefly, he seemed to have found something. “Actually, I know that my name is Skizz.” The now named stranger said.

Now that Joel was thinking about it, he also, at the very least, remembered his own name. “My name is Joel.” He said back and then continued when something else came to mind. “And I know we’re borrowers.”

Skizz chuckled. “Well, yeah. Would be kind of weird if we didn’t at least know that.” He said, gesturing to their giant surroundings. He then frowned. “Although something about it does seem off…”

So Skizz was experiencing the same feeling as Joel. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “It does for me too.” Joel admitted, rolling a pebble the size of his hand along the ground absentmindedly. “It’s probably just an effect of the amnesia though.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Skizz agreed, still staring off into the surrounding distance. As Skizz did this, Joel tried again to think of anything else he could remember. Almost desperately trying to come up with anything else. It was when Joel looked over at Skizz again and suddenly remembered his first impression of the guy that he realized he may know something else after all.

“Hey, it’s nothing concrete or anything but you seem really familiar. Like we know each other or something.” Joel said, gaining Skizz’s attention back. Joel watched as Skizz’s eyes looked him up and down, seeing the spark of recognition in them after a moment. Skizz’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, yeah! I see what you mean. I think you might be right!” Skizz said with a smile. Joel returned it, thankful they had the same feelings there. If that was the case, it really did seem like the two of them were probably friends. Maybe even roommates if they had ended up here together.

“Great!” Skizz said, genuinely enthused. He tried to make a big motion with his arms in excitement but quickly stopped with a wince at the pain. “Now that we have that little piece of the puzzle, all that's left to figure out is why we have no memories and what the heck happened to make us so sore all over.”

“You make it sound a lot more simple than it’s actually going to be.” Joel quipped with a small snort. “Besides, I think the soreness is starting to let up a little.” Joel noticed as he stretched out his shoulder. There were still little pangs but definitely nothing like when he first woke up. Joel took this opportunity to finally stand up. He was a bit wobbly on his feet but he managed to catch himself.

The same could not be said for Skizz however and Joel rushed over to stop Skizz from falling back over. The other borrower was a bit heavy but thankfully it didn’t take much for him to finally balance out. “Geez, that was a close one. Thanks Joel!”

“Yeah, of course.” He said, only stepping away once he was sure Skizz was balanced. Skizz stood on his own, flexing his muscles and moving his body in order to get rid of any more aches. Joel couldn’t help but let that familiar feeling take hold of him for a moment. The only thing Joel could be sure of, right now, was his name and that Skizz was his friend. And right now his only friend and companion in this weird amnesiac state they had found themselves in. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to him and lose that one connection. “The two of us gotta stick together, ya know?” He said, voicing those thoughts in a single sentence, with little care in his voice and a shrug of his shoulders.

Suddenly he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, jolting Joel out of his thoughts and almost causing Joel to fall over again. He didn’t though, thanks to that same arm holding him steady. He looked and followed the arm up to see Skizz grinning down at him. Once again, Joel frowned, realizing Skizz was at least a full head taller than him.

“That’s the spirit! The two of us against the world!” Skizz exclaimed and Joel’s frown at their height difference quickly turned into a grin to match Skizz’s. His enthusiasm sure was infectious. He briefly wondered if this is how it always was between the two of them.

Joel playfully pushed him away, Skizz’s smile still present when his arm left his shoulder and he moved to stand in front of him instead. Joel rolled his eyes. Skizz seemed to be good at making Joel feel better. Despite the worry for their lack of memories still, Joel was finding himself smiling.

But it was time to get back on track.

“I think our actual first order of business should be finding shelter.” Joel said after a moment of thought, his tone turning serious. He crossed his arms and looked out into the distance, eyes focusing on the river. “We might have a home already but wherever it is, it’s not going to do us any good right now.” It would be nice if they could stumble upon it, or even better yet remember where it was. But Joel had a feeling they were very far away from home.

Skizz nodded in agreement, his smile now a little less. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Skizz also looked around. There wasn’t a lot close by to them. Other than the tree, it was an open field for a long stretch which ended at a river one way and a mountain the other. “We probably should stick close, right?”

Joel nodded, finally turning his attention away from the river. “It would be nice if we could be a bit closer to the river but I don’t really see anywhere over there we can make a shelter.” Maybe if they burrowed underground nearby, maybe at the base of a rock. But they didn’t really have the time to do something like that. They’d also have to really stock up on water if they weren’t going to be close to it, maybe put it in a reserve. And making something to catch rainwater would be helpful too. Could save them some trips in the future.

Joel looked back toward the tree. Yeah, it was probably better to stick close to where they woke up. The shade of the tree would also give them some protection. “I think we should get some wood and carve ourselves up some tools. That’ll make gathering supplies and materials a lot easier and it’ll help us put together that shelter we need.” Joel suggested, already thinking up some ideas on what their shelter could look like. Maybe they could make it so it was covered by the roots sticking out of the ground? That way it was at least hidden. Joel looked toward Skizz to see what he thought.

Skizz nodded with his smile back at full force. “Sounds like a plan!” Skizz exclaimed, ready to get going. Joel nodded back with a smile, glad Skizz was easy to talk to. It wouldn’t do them any good to argue about something like this, especially at a time like this. Joel looked toward the tree, sizing it up, before bending down and picking up the pebble he had been messing with earlier. He weighed it in his hand, throwing it up a few inches and catching it again. It wasn’t too hefty or sharp but it would do the job until they could make some actual tools.

He went closer to the tree, his new temporary tool in hand, meeting up with Skizz who had already walked over. He noticed Skizz also sizing the tree up before letting out a low whistle.

“Man, this thing is huge.” Skizz observed the obvious. Joel gave him a flat look.

“Everything’s huge, Skizz. We’re borrowers.” At the face Skizz gave him, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know that! It’s just…you know! It’s probably the amnesia…it’s like I’m not used to it or something.” Skizz tried to explain himself. Joel hummed in thought at that and looked directly up at the tree. From this angle, he couldn’t even see where the tree ended. He felt way smaller than what should be normal but that didn’t make any sense. He was the same size he had always been. It was one of the only things his amnesiac mind could remember.

It was that off sort of feeling all over again.

“...I mean, I get it. It’s the same for me too.” He revealed tentatively with his arms crossed. There had to be an explanation though. A reason why the size of this tree felt unfamiliar. “Maybe…maybe we’re not actually outdoor borrowers to begin with.” Joel suddenly came up with and couldn’t help but agree with his own statement. Yeah, that had to be it. “That could be why we aren’t used to trees like this.”

Skizz blinked, eyes going wide for a second. Joel could tell he was thinking it over. “...That does actually make a lot of sense.” Skizz said before looking down at Joel. “If we’re indoor borrowers though, well, what happened? How did we end up outside with no house in sight?”

Joel bit his lip. That was a very good question. “Just like with everything else, I’m not sure.” It was very weird though.

Joel shook his head. They would have plenty of time to come up with theories or look around more later. Right now, the most important thing was to make a shelter before it got dark. “Anyway, tools.”

“...Right. Right! Tools. Not a problem.” Skizz said after coming out of his own thoughts. He looked at the tree for a brief moment before bending down and picking up a pebble just like Joel had.

Now with a pebble in hand, Joel watched as Skizz took the first swing at the tree. It didn’t do much at first but has Skizz kept hitting it, some of the bark started to come off. The thing they would be using to build their first tools out of. Joel watched for just a moment longer before realizing he should probably join in.

After some time stripping down the tree, and getting quite the collection of bark, Joel went big with one of his hits. It was to make a stubborn piece of bark finally come loose. But instead of that happening, the pebble, and his hand, went right through the bark. Joel blinked in surprise, taking his hand out of the hole he had just created. “Uh, Skizz?” Joel called out as he tried to get a better look inside the hole.

Skizz quickly joined his side. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know but I managed to put a hole into the tree.” Joel said, squinting into the hole’s darkness. “...I think this tree might be hollow inside.” Joel realized and decided to see for sure by swinging the pebble back toward the hole. Skizz flinched back at the power of the hit but Joel just cleared away some of the dust at the now bigger hole and glanced inside.

Now with some light able to hit the inside, Joel could tell for sure that the base of this tree was hollow. Joel grinned and stepped away to make room for Skizz. “Take a look for yourself.”

Skizz bent down a little to see through the hole. While the hole may have been eye level with Joel, it certainly wasn’t with Skizz. The reminder of how much shorter Joel was put a brief scowl on his face. “Hey! You’re right! It’s like a cozy little grove in there.” Skizz exclaimed with a grin.

Joel’s mind raced with ideas with this discovery. “If we can make ourselves an entrance and clean the inside up a bit…” Joel mumbled out loud, mostly to himself but Skizz turned to listen as well, understanding crossing his features.

Joel looked up to meet Skizz’s eyes and grinned. “I think we just found our shelter.”

#giant/tiny #hermitcraft #g/t #hermitcraft g/t #mcyt g/t #hermitcraft fanfic #fanfiction #borrowers #but not really #shrinking #shattered reflections au #chapter 1 #tiny!joel #tiny!skizz

47 notes · View notes

tellmealovestory · 2 years ago

Text

Kiss Me - Chapter 3

Summary: 4 times you and Eddie kissed and it meant nothing and the 1 time you kissed and it meant everything.

Warnings: More awkwardness between them, brief mention of drug use, light drug use, tiny bit of angst if you squint really hard - I think that's everything for this one.

Masterlist

Fat raindrops slap against the side and roof of Eddie’s trailer offering you a permanent soundtrack to your activities. The day was meant to be for studying, but after five minutes you both gave up on that plan claiming neither of you could concentrate and you could always do it tomorrow.

Instead you both opt to work on your own things while still hanging out together. Eddie alternates between learning a new song on his guitar and working on a new Dungeons and Dragons campaign he swears will blow the Hellfire Club out of the water and you doodle in notebooks while silently trying to figure out how to ask for his help.

A crack of thunder interrupts the quiet and you flinch at the unexpected loudness. Despite the startle you’ve always loved storms from the way the air smells like rain before and after to the unpredictability of what could happen. Storms have always been your own little lullaby and this should be the perfect soundtrack to help calm and lull you into sleep, but not even this is working.

Time seems to flow differently when it’s spent at Eddie’s and before you know it he’s glancing at his clock and swearing beneath his breath as time inches closer to having to say goodbye for the night.

“Guess I should get you home before your parents ban you from seeing me,” he says lightly, intending for it to be a joke, but you both know there’s a dark truth lurking underneath his words.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds and when you feel his eyes boring into your skull you offer a shrug of your shoulders and continue doodling in your notebook that’s meant for homework.

“Wow,” Eddie starts slowly, dragging out the syllables until he sees the tiniest of smiles crack on your face. “You really are turning into a rebel from hanging out with me if you’re not worried about missing your curfew. Gotta say I’m impressed.”

You stick your tongue out at him childishly before beginning to pack your stuff up. He hunts around the mess he calls a room for the keys to his van and while he busies himself with that task you swallow the growing lump in your throat and search for the courage to ask him for what you want.

“Hey, Eddie?” He hums in response, an acknowledgement that he heard as he continues to rummage through his jeans pocket where he swore he stuffed those stupid keys. “Can I um ask you for a favor?”

At the timidness in your voice and the way you’re shifting your weight from foot to foot and refusing to meet his eyes he knows it must be important. You’re not one to ask for things so he gives up on finding his keys and sits on the edge of his bed. “Go for it,” he says, offering you his full attention.

It’s difficult to look at him or even in his general direction so you look everywhere else. Out the window watching how lightning fills the sky and the few trees in the trailer park sway from the rain and heavy wind. Around his room, the messy piles of clothes perched on the end of his bed to his guitar leaning up against his nightstand delicately, the one thing he takes care of more than anything else in here.

Your eyes slide over to that infamous black lunch box containing various drugs. You’ve gotten high with him a few times, but it was never really your thing and you’ve never once asked him for anything else. Until now.

“Um… do you think… well I…”

“Spit it out, princess,” he says lightly. He leans his palms back on the bed, eyes darting to your face where he catches you staring at the lunch box. Recognition dawns and he gives a slow nod, but still, he waits for you to say what you need.

“It’s just…” you start before breaking off and scrunching your eyebrows together.

Huffing a sigh you hate that the thought of asking for help or hell even talking about your feelings is this difficult. Logically, you know it shouldn’t be. He’s your best friend and you should just be able to ask him for help and he should give an answer. Easy peasy. But for whatever reason it’s so much easier when you’re both exchanging witty banter and coming up with new inside jokes than to talk about anything deeper than surface level.

Licking your lips you glance up at the ceiling and let it all out in one quick gust of air that makes it hard for Eddie to hear or even understand what you’re asking for. “With finals coming up I can’t sleep and so um I was wondering if you have something to help me with that? Please?”

When he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds you blurt, “I have money to pay you.” You cringe, but it’s important he knows you’d never not pay him for this when you know he relies on it as income.

He stays silent for another beat and cocks his head to the side. The rain picks up, slapping against the trailer with more venom and you think about taking the words back, telling him it doesn’t matter, but at the same time you need this. Even if it only allows you to sleep for an hour it’s better than nothing.

“Please?” You hate the way your voice cracks. “I never ask you for anything, Eddie.” You also hate how you’re guilting him into helping you when you don’t mean to. Rubbing your eyes you’re about to give up on this, but the bed creaks as he stands up and your heart pounds against your chest as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah, yeah I think I might have something for you,” he murmurs softly, bobbing his head. “You uh wanna talk about what’s going on?”

Scoffing, you scrunch your nose up and give a quick shake of your head no to that idea. You bite down on your tongue so you don’t get snarky and ask him why he thinks you’d want to talk about this now when you rarely talk about things you’re going through.

Staying silent you instead focus on how he said yes. Letting go of a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding you release some of the tension in your shoulders before digging in your back pockets for the cash you brought. You hand him a wad of bills unsure how much he charges for something like this while thanking him again and again.

He counts the money, handing you back a few bills which you slip back into your pocket.

“Wait here.” He takes a few steps toward his bedroom door, but before he can leave you’re stopping him with a soft wait. He pauses and turns back to face you. Another crack of thunder rattles the trailer, but this time you don’t jump, this time your attention is solely focused on him.

“Thank you.”

“You keep thanking me and I’m gonna start charging you for that too,” he teases, earning a soft smile from you. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” He rubs the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare at him.

You want to contradict him about this not meaning anything, but instead of starting an argument you’d only wind up losing you do something else. Walking towards him until your chests are nearly touching you cup his cheek and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick, bordering on chaste, but when you pull back and step away you notice how he’s staring at your mouth.

The tension grows thick like humidity during summer before Eddie goes back to rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, stay here. I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

You want to ask him where he thinks you’re going to disappear to, but you figure maybe just this once you should keep your sarcasm to yourself.

Instead of heading towards his lunch box where you know he keeps most of his stash he heads into the small kitchen, opening and slamming drawers looking for what you need. He returns a few seconds later with a glass of water and a pill in his open palm. When he extends both to you you don’t hesitate, don’t ask what you’re taking either. Taking a sip of water you gingerly pick up the pill and toss it into your mouth before taking another sip to wash it down.

Silence stretches on and you aren’t sure if you should thank him again or grab your stuff for him to take you home. Eddie glances around his room and clears his throat before saying hesitantly, “You uh can stay here if you want. Less you think your parents would kill me.”

“They’re gone for the weekend.” You’re relieved that you don’t have to leave the comfort of his trailer and be alone while whatever you took works its way through your system. But the feeling of calm doesn’t last for long because you’re soon left wondering where you’re both supposed to sleep.

There’s only one bed.

Sure, there’s a couch in the living room, but you’ve spent enough time sitting on it while watching television to know it’s not comfortable for extended periods of time.

On the same wavelength as you he thinks similar thoughts as his gaze swings to his bed, to you, the floor and then out into the short hallway before looking back at you. Sweeping his hand out he gestures to the bed like the true gentleman he is, bows at the waist and says, “All yours, princess.”

Hesitantly you climb into his bed, laying on your back you scoot as close to the wall as you can get while noting that his sheets smell like him. Resting your head on his lumpy pillow your gaze swings back over to him, standing stiff in the middle of the floor watching you.

“Will you stay with me?” you ask softly, glancing up at him through your lashes. You hate asking him for another favor in the span of only a few minutes, especially one that makes you sound needy and vulnerable.

He doesn’t see it that way because he toes his boots off, kicking them into a pile of what you can’t be sure are clean clothes before he stretches his arms above his head, his shirt rides up a little and you try not to stare at the sliver of exposed skin.

“It’s my humble abode, where else would I stay?” he jokes, grinning at you until you giggle.

“No, dork,” you start, yawning into your hand. “I meant here. With me. Like in the same bed.” You cringe again at how awkward you sound, but Eddie doesn’t comment on it and you appreciate that.

“You sure? You don’t snore or drool do you? Cause ya know I like this shirt and don’t want it to get gross.” Again, with that grin that sets your heart racing and your palms sweating.

You giggle and shake your head no and he takes it as confirmation that all of this is okay. He slides in next to you and the bed dips beneath his weight. His body mirrors yours, both of you on your backs, limbs stiff, staring up at the ceiling almost trying too hard to give one another enough space for fear that if you touch you’ll both combust into dust. The storm rages outside and you both breathe each other in.

“This as weird for you as it is for me?” Eddie teases, turning his head to the side to catch a glimpse of you. You smile and nod your head before murmuring a soft yeah.

You don’t understand why it’s so weird. You’re both adults, both friends used to sharing small spaces together, but somehow being alone in his room, in his bed makes it all feel a little more intimate than either of you are used to.

Restless and not used to sleeping on your back you shift around, murmuring soft apologies anytime your fingers or legs brush up against his. Trying to make yourself as small as possible it’s not working and just as you’re about to suggest maybe he should take you home he speaks up.

“You can uh come a little closer if you want. I don’t have cooties if that’s what you’re worried about. And I uh promise to keep my hands to myself. Less you still don’t want me to of course. I aim to please. Whatever the lady wants she gets.”

Biting down on your lower lip to hold back your giggle you refuse to give him the satisfaction that his immature humor is actually kind of funny to you. You glance over at him and with the lights still on you can make out his features like the way his lips are curved into a playful smile, how his curls are spread out against his lumpy pillow and how his eyes bright and shining with humor and something more despite the late hour and the awkwardness that’s played out for the past few minutes.

Rolling onto your side you sigh, it feels better than laying on your back, but it’s still not right and you feel like Goldilocks, but refuse to ask for another favor.

“Are you sure about the cooties? Because I’ve heard they’re highly contagious,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose before hesitantly moving closer still.

The large gap of space is closing as your legs rest against his and it feels okay, neither of you have burst into dust yet so you grow a little more confident and curl yourself into his side, resting your head on his chest listening to the calming sounds of his heart beating a rhythm into your ear.

Subtly inhaling the smoky scent that has imbedded itself into his clothes you murmur a soft, “this okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie mumbles, swallowing thickly before also growing into his confidence. He’s not used to sharing his bed, not used to having someone willingly want to get as close to him as possible. “It’s good. You’re good.”

Hesitantly, he rests his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer as his calloused fingertips skim up and down your arm making your skin break out into goosebumps.

You sigh in content, snuggling even closer and unlike you did seconds ago he doesn’t have to ask if this is okay because he can already tell it is by the way your breathing has slowed and you let out soft little sighs and continue to snuggle impossibly closer to him.

A soft smile appears on his face and the previous weirdness you both encountered earlier has all but evaporated as his fingers move from stroking your arm to rubbing gentle circles along your lower back. His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead.

The pill he gave you begins to kick in, you think. Your muscles begin to relax, the edges of your vision start to blur making everything a little unfocused, a little fuzzy, but also somehow nice and as your breathing starts to slow and sleep calls your name your last coherent thought is of how nice it feels to be wrapped in Eddie’s embrace.

Tags;

@gaysludge

@eddiesguitarskills

@michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #my writing

86 notes · View notes

storycraftcafe · 11 months ago

Note

What's your process like when writing dialogue? Has it ever happened to you that like, you know something is off about what your character said and how they said it, but have no idea what it is? and what do you do with such cases?

Hey, thanks for waiting for this!

Generally dialogue for me is fairly instinctual and I do a lot of the ground work in my head and I approach it with who and what this character is as a person in my mind. The way someone talks, the words and phrases they use, their accent, their speed and rhythm and how that shifts with mood and company can convey a lot about character in a really fast amount of time. So this means culture, age, education, personality, etc, all of which informs a lot about how someone talks.

Are they blunt and direct or slippery and evasive, well educated or maybe less so, upper class or poor? Are they happy, playful, pissed off, talking with a friend, enemy, teacher, authority figure? Are they being honest and plain or are they hiding something?

All that guides me in writing their dialogue.

It’s not terribly formal, and I tend to refine as I write, tinkering with a scene until I like their particular ‘voice’, until it’s distinct enough for the character and I can almost hear it in my head. Once I have that, dialogue comes pretty easily for me usually. And if I lose that sound, reviewing past examples of dialogue generally helps me to pick it back up.

I also try to make sure my dialogue is doing ‘double duty’, by which I mean it’s conveying not just character and their wants, deceptions, etc but serves the story, gives exposition, and so on. It’s not possible all the time but that’s the goal I work towards.

So when it comes to cases of dialogue just never quite sounding right and not knowing why? This happens to me on a fairly regular basis and it’s usually because I’m still figuring out the flow of an argument or a heartfelt conversation, I’ve lost track of what the character’s want and are trying to achieve and sometimes just because what I’ve written is just off.

If it’s a first draft I try not to worry about it, I either retry by rewriting or flag it and move on, but if it’s during a rewrite or I get well and truly stuck, I take a step back and ask myself a few things.

What is this character trying to achieve? What’s their goal?

Why? And what are their usual methods? Are they doing something different here and why?

I also check my notes and try to remind myself what the point of this conversation and scene, both in the moment and in the larger story. I remind myself of this character’s voice, think about the way they talk and I try again. I write and rewrite and tweak until things start to click.

And if I still can’t get it, I poke at a trusted friend for their input.

Here’s some advice.

Listen to how people talk in person but also on screen and in books. Book/screen dialogue is far more refined and pointed than real life conversation so keep that in mind.

Think about some books or media that you enjoy and how the dialogue varies not only from story to story, but from characters too. Screenmedia is actually really good for this since screenplays/stageplays are mostly dialogue and that's where those characters start.

Consider The Lion King. How does Mufasa speak and how does that change when he talks to Simba, Zazu or Scar? Contrast that to how Timone and Pumba speak and then compare with Scar. The Guardians of the Galaxy is another example of distinctive character voices (and humour) in a single film.

If you’re fine with the genre typical violence I recommend John Wick (basically every main character has a distinct way of speaks that is instantly recognisable) and Guy Ritchie’s Snatch which is a fantastic example of giving characters all from the same ‘world’, area, accent and class, very distinct dialogue that makes them stand out. (It is a ‘gangster’ film so TW again for violence and how Richie handles Irish Travellers.)

Then when you’re writing or developing a character, think about who they are and how that’d shape how they talk. Try writing them and tweak it until you’re satisfied. Then put them in a different situation with different people and figure out how they talk changes.

Do try to avoid writing accents and overly pronounced stutters and be careful with slang you’re not familiar with and always keep in mind stereotypes and cliche.

And if you get stuck, step back and try to pin down what they want and how they’re aiming to get it. What’s the end result that you as the writer want?

And of course, all this comes with practice and rewriting something until it works.

Sorry for keeping you waiting on this, I hope you find something useful.

Good Writing!

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #on writing #writing advice #answered ask #writing resources #writing tips

7 notes · View notes

generalluxun · 2 years ago

Text

Record Scratch: Chapter 7 Fanfiction

A hallway confrontation leads to soul bearing in private. Nino came to get help, he stayed for curiosity, and now? Perhaps its his turn. Both parties open up more of themselves, and in the process grow one step closer. Snip, then link, then full chapter under the cut.

"Is wanting that, greedy and bad again? Who gets to decide these things? Ladybug? Du-Pain-Cheng and her swarm of followers? Where is all this written down? I’ll tell you where! Nowhere! It’s just something everyone is supposed to know. Well, no one ever told me! So now I’m stuck like this, I don’t want this. I am sick to death of it."

All things in life have an ebb and a flow. In my line of work, you catch on quickly to this fact, or you die. High school halls were no different. The mass of students coming and going surged by a hundred understood rules. Like a herd on the plains, you could feel tremors in your feet long before the stampede.

My head snapped up when I first sensed it. I'd been deep in my own stew of thoughts, but the taste in the air made my hair stand on end: anticipation.

I scanned the hall and picked out the leads, one-two-three students going against the flow of traffic and all in the same direction. I moved to follow. One checked their phone and all three sped up. Anticipation had become excitement. The general flow of people was slowing. Whatever this was, it had started to permeate the collective subconsciousness.

I switched from tail to pursuit as we got to the other end of the hall. There was a din from below. The collective murmur and jeers of a hungry crowd.

One voice raised itself above the rest.

I sprinted past my initial targets, hit the stairs without slowing, and braced myself as I vaulted the railing to take myself down a full flight. People scattered from my unorthodox entrance; I didn't even slow down. The noise was lower, I vaulted back across the rail down another flight, punishing my knees, but taking me right to the epicenter.

"Don't you even try that with me! You're not the Queen of the school anymore!"

I elbowed my way through the crowd, turning catcalls and insults into surprised yelps.

"You have no idea what I am! You think your little band makes you immune? I had you expelled once, I can do it again!"

I broke into the front ring, and my worst fears were confirmed.

Gold and amber toe to toe in the middle of the arena. Alya was stretched to her limit, still half a head shorter than Chloé, but making up in glare what she lacked in height. Chloé's face was as red as I had ever seen, her fists were balled up at her sides, one slight tip of the scales from action. Around them both, the crowd loomed close, hungry for blood.

I broke the sacred circle, but time was moving too slowly.

Alya growled. "Just remember where all your scheming got you last time. A queen without a throne is just pathetic."

Chloé's hands came up, claws out, arms wide, making herself bigger. Her lips curled into a snarl… I found my voice.

"Stop!" A true poet, as always.

Nino saw it happening in vivid detail, every little change along the arc was a perfectly frozen image that would linger long after the fact, a guilty squirm appropo nothing as it danced across his future-self's brain.

His voice reached Chloé. Her eyes shifted from Alya to him, from rage to surprise. Fear had a go, panic, rage again. The claws retracted into fists once more. She shrank. Eyes found the crowd. Those fists tightened. It all turned inward. Muscles clenched along a perfect jawline.

"You! You- Ridiculous! ALL of you!" Chloé turned as she screamed, stabbing the crowd with eye and word. Her whole body shook with the convulsions of emotion.

"Utterly RIDICULOUS!"

The crowd sagged back, even Alya backpedaled. Nino's hand hung in the air, still mid reach, but it was all happening too fast. Realization dawned on that mask of rage, and Chloé tore from the circle, cutting a swath through the onlookers and running down the hall, alone.

In her wake the initial silence was deafening. Nino looked after her, then back to Alya. Alya's face was its own tapestry of emotion. Someone in the herd clapped, it was taken up by a smattering of fellows. Nino felt sick. He had to- He had-

Nino turned again and plunged after Chloé. The crowd checked him where it had melted before Chloé, he was set to push through again when two hands grabbed his trailing arm.

"Deej, stop!"

Nino tugged. "I've got to-"

"Wait!" Alya hauled on him.

Nino turned back, and Alya let go as if he had suddenly caught fire. That checked him. He didn't feel angry… he felt… he couldn't even begin to make sense of it. Alya was the winner in whatever had happened though, that much was easy to tell, and it hadn't been some small defeat.

Nino tried to calm himself. "What happened?"

Alya's eyes darted. The crowd was dispersing with the show over. She grabbed his arm again and tugged him towards an unused classroom. “C’mon.”

He followed, but half of himself was still running down the hallway. Even if he wanted to be a hero though, there was no denying the most likely scenario. So when the door closed he began with. “What did she do?”

Alya was facing away from him. She didn’t turn immediately, instead taking several deep breaths. She turned finally, her hands pressed together in front of her lips. “I started it.” She confessed immediately.

Nino had to reset his expectations. “You? Why?”

Alya paced back and forth as she spoke. “It- I didn’t start it exactly, but I did. I just wanted to talk to her. I wanted to ask why she was ghosting you.” Alya stopped and turned back to him. She dropped her hands and hung her head. “I stuck my nose in, I’m sorry.”

Contrite Alya was not something Nino had ever been able to withstand. He took the two steps to her and hugged her without so much as thinking. She hugged him back just as tightly, and repeated, “I’m sorry.”

Nino squeezed her once more before drawing slightly back. “Hey, I believe you babe. How did that end up like this though?”

Alya took off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose and sighing. “It started out okay, but then, people noticed.”

Nino thought of his own interactions with Chloe in the halls, and her clear pronouncement: ‘Don’t talk to me in School.’ It was a piece but… “Is that all?”

She sighed and put her glasses back on. Her shoulders slumped. She’s more burned out by this than I thought. Nino moved around wordlessly, and began to rub Alya’s shoulders, a time honored tradition when she was overworked.

She sighed again, a better one this time. “She got snappish. I should’ve realized it was a hint to disengage. I just… there’s still a lot there, and I didn’t make the best choice. Instead of backing off for another time I skipped several steps in a rush to get my point across. And maayyybee ‘Listen, you better not hurt Nino.’ wasn’t the best way to phrase it…”

Nino paused the massage. “No, maybe not babe.”

Alya noted, “I said I was sorry. Anyway, she went right off after that. I don’t know how much you heard…?”

Nino gave her shoulders one more rub before letting go. “Just the end, enough though.”

Alya looked over her shoulder at him, her smile was soft, but had a slightly sad quality to it. “Maybe not quite enough. You seem to be a very… touchy subject for her.”

Nino coughed. “Oh, um-” He stepped back and suddenly found the ceiling tiles interesting. “How- so?”

Alya laughed and turned around, tickling him under the chin. “As if that reply wasn’t painfully obvious, Deej. You did let her dress you up, after all.”

Nino grabbed his hat off his head, just his red cap today, normal clothes. He hadn’t worn anything fancy since the wedding. “I swear to you. I have no idea what’s going on. I mean, I- friends? I- guess? How do you even- It’s Chloé. This all started because she helped me with my anger after the breakup.”

Oops. Alya tilted her head. “She did what?”

Nino curled the brim of his hat between his hands. Too late now. “She- Well, you know how I was. She figured out what was wrong, and had a solution.” Nino couldn’t tell why he felt so uncomfortable talking about it, but he was squirming inside. He tried to shake it off with a joke. “It involved yelling, she’s kind of an expert.”

Alya didn’t laugh. Instead she gave a thoughtful, “hmm.” She stepped back again. “Well, then I will have to thank her… with less people around next time. Alright, Deej, go sort out what you can, and apologize for me. I’m not going to kiss and make up, but I think we can at least try and hit the reset button.”

Nino hesitated, now that the moment was past. ��But… we have class.”

“So help me, Deej, I will make you eat your hat if you don’t get going.”

Alya’s smile was bright, feral, everything he loved about her. Reporter Alya, ready to take on the world. This was not an Alya you argued with. Nino put his hat back on and settled it in place before running his finger along the brim.

“You got it, Sweetheart. Nino’s on the case.””

Alya groaned as he stepped towards the door. “Please don’t try that on her! I want you in one piece!”

---------------------------------------

Back in the lioness's den. The fact I'd cut out to be here had me riding an adrenal high. On top of that I caught sight of Audrey Bourgeois in the lobby. With my everyday togs, I stood out among the glam. I felt her watch me the whole way across the lobby. No question where BeeBee got her stare from, though her eyes never made me feel like I needed a shower; well, maybe a cold shower.

Knock? Barge in? How was I going to play this? Was I here for a damsel? A siren? To offer explanations, or demand answers? I squared my shoulders, raised a hand and-

Nino hesitated, shook his head, and cleared the black and white thoughts from it. Just a two bit kid and part time hero. Let's see how far it gets me.

He knocked, waited, and knocked again. "Chloe! It's me, Nino. We need to talk."

More silence, then, just as he was about to knock again, her voice through the door, "Look, I get it okay? You don't need to say a thing. Just- go back to school. You goodies never miss class, right?"

Nino leaned in closer to the door, juggling possibilities in the seconds. "I'm not going back until this is sorted. I don't care about classes.. heh, maybe it's a bad influence on me lately, but I've got something more important to be doing."

He very nearly toppled when she opened the door, saving himself but stumbling into the gap she created. Whatever she had meant to say died on her lips as Nino tried to play it off by leaning awkwardly on the door jam. It didn't work, but he was committed.

It took Nino a few seconds of staring to figure out why Chloé looked so different; her makeup was off. It wasn't an orderly job either. Hints remained here and there. It was absent through collateral, not intent. Strands of hair had escaped the sacred ponytail. Her right forelock was askew, her eyes had a redness to them, and yet she lifted her chin under his stare.

Nino asked, "Let me in?"

"That's the problem, isn't it?" She sighed, but stepped back, before turning and walking towards her sitting room. As she went Nino realized the 'shawl' hanging about her arms was his sweatshirt.

Nino followed, but slowly. He'd come here with growing conviction, but only now realized he had no idea what that conviction was pointing toward.

She was sitting on her couch, legs crossed, fingers laced together over her knee, and foot bobbing with uncontained agitation. She fixed him with a look, but it skittered quickly off into the corners of the room. Nino dropped himself into her lounge and sat leaning forward, elbows on thighs. "So…" he began, "First, Alya says she's sorry for coming on too strong."

"Strong? Ha!" She still wasn't looking at him. "She would have to grow another 15 cm to talk to something other than my chin. It was nothing, just an off day for me, really. If that trumped up, wannabe reporter thinks she can-"

Chloé bit off the end of her sentence abruptly, cutting off what had been gathering steam. She crossed her arms. Her fingernails dug into his sweatshirt.

Nino ignored… all of that. "Second. I have the same questions really. You don't have to answer. You can kick me out right now -though I don't think you want that either- but I'd like to know. Why have you been avoiding me? I thought it was a- a fresh start, for both of us. Was I wrong? What did you want?"

Instead of answering immediately, she stood. She ascended the few steps out of the sunken seating area to the room proper. There she turned, and paced a long path around behind the bar-console and back.

"Avoiding you? What else am I supposed to do?" She gestured as she walked, still not looking at him. "I called in the favor, thinking it would happen whenever, then boom. It happens almost immediately. So, now I'm stuck. I'm not supposed to buy people's attention, right? I read that. So I can't be near you, or admit I did it, until later right?"

She let out a frustrated growl and shook her head, continuing, "I have to stay away, but will people let me stay away? No. I get accosted in the hallway, then those stupid people with their stupid faces have to butt in with their stupid yelling. I can yell too you know! I can yell with the best of them. Only, I'm not supposed to yell, am I? Even if I want to. Not in front of other people at least."

She stopped, out of breath. She almost made eye contact, but turned away sharply. She shrugged with one shoulder, her voice back down from the rafters.

"What do I want? What can I want?" She rounded on him, arms wide, voice high again. "I used to want all kinds of things! I wanted everything. No, no, Chloé dear, that's bad. You're bad. You can’t want that! That’s too much!”

She drew herself up to her full height and screamed her frustration. “Then how much is Right?”

And back into pacing again. “Is it right to want to spend time with someone? Is it right to not want to talk to someone? Is it right to still hate my sister? Is it right to let the Bourgeois name be sullied in front of me and not speak up? Is it right to let things slide? When do you become a patsy? I can’t want to see Sabrina again, she’s doing better now. Can I want to tell Daddy not to run for office again because all it does is make everything worse at home? Can I want mommy back in New York? Can I want to call you up when all this piles up in my head? Can I want to be held instead of screaming alone in my room?”

Once more she turned to him, exasperation warring with her rolling anger. “Or is wanting that, greedy and bad again? Who gets to decide these things? Ladybug? Du-Pain-Cheng and her swarm of followers? Where is all this written down? I’ll tell you where! Nowhere! It’s just something everyone is supposed to know. Well, no one ever told me! So now I’m stuck like this, I don’t want this. I am sick to death of it. I want everyone to go away forever! I want to go away! But I don’t want to be alone. I’m sick of being alone. I just- RRRAAAAAAAGHHH!”

Chloé threw back her head and her scream filled the room. She filled her lungs and screamed again. She might have continued until either her lungs or the ceiling gave way, but Nino’s touch silenced her.

He didn’t remember standing, making the conscious decision, or anything else between being seated and reaching out to gently touch the back of her upturned head. Her roar dropped. Nino pulled her to him. The sound became a watery thick growl. He drew her head to his shoulder. She clung like a drowning woman. His fingers brushed below the base of her ponytail. Her nails dug in through his shirt. He rocked gently as he held her. He tilted his head closer. Her weight transferred against him.

Nino whispered. “Beebee, when are you going to let yourself stop being angry?”

She broke. It wasn’t a proper cry. It was sobs, growls, sniffs, curses, and a needful burrowing in against him all jumbled up together. Nino held her through all of it and as he did one floating uncertainty crystallized. He wanted to be here. Mystery, intrigue, heroism, outreach be damned. He cared.

He just had no idea what that meant.

He stroked fingertips down along her back soothingly. “Bee, can you make it to the couch?”

In place of a response she shifted, moving away from him enough to step around, heading for the couch. Her trailing hand caught a pinch of his t-shirt, lightly tugging. Nino followed, and soon they were arranged. She sat cross legged, with a tissue box in the middle. He sat beside her, and she shifted over enough that her knee made contact with his leg. Nino shifted as well, confirming the touch with his own gentle pressure.

It was quiet for a long time. Chloé sat with her head down, emitting the occasional sniff and plucking tissues intermittently from the box. Nino was trying to navigate the next few minutes in his head. Ideas kept blossoming, ways out, ways to turn it all into a plot thread and press it safely onto a screen.

Nino settled for something he hadn’t said in person yet. He pressed against their contact. “Thanks for putting my name out there.”

She made a soft sound and shook her head. “It’s nothing, right? Everyone wants to do a favor for the mayor once.” She glanced his way. “Did you do a good job?”

Nino gave her a confident smile, “I killed it. Got a bonus on top. They’re keeping my number in their recommendations for future parties.”

Chloé huffed, leaning back into the couch as a little bit of emotion puffed itself out into the air. “Well, then there you go. You’re exceptional, you just needed your shot. That’s what a good person does, right?”

Nino reached across and scooped up her hand, making sure she was looking at him before answering, “Good person, bad person, it’s what you did. That’s enough right?”

She pulled her hand away, though not harshly. Once free though, she let it drop back into her lap. “So, do I put your name in somewhere else? Or is that abusing my influence? How does this work? If I do that then am I not allowed to see you again for another week? When do I make another Sabrina?” She let her head fall back and growled to the ceiling again. “Why is all this so HARD? I just want to blare music and scream it all away again.”

Nino considered that, but he didn’t think it seemed quite right for the moment. He asked a question that had been waiting its turn. “So, where did you learn all this? Did you start-” He wasn’t sure using the word itself would be taken well, “-start talking to someone?”

She remained in repose, talking to the marble overhead. “Ha! No. No, I’ve opened a book or two about it. Yes!” She gestured to the skies. “Me! I read books, without being required to. I’m not talking to a shrink though, even if I could.”

The obvious question, “You can’t?”

A bitter laugh. “The Mayor’s daughter, in therapy? Ha! Never.”

Nino looked for a way around the gross reality. “We could keep it secret if you wanted? I know a thing or two about disguises…”

Chloé turned her head to him, but didn’t straighten up. “No, it wouldn’t do any good. The people around me have been paid to say the right things my whole life. What’s one more person taking money to tell me things? Even if they claimed it was genuine, who would ever claim otherwise? No. People in little rooms with pencils might work for others, but that’s not how I’m dragging myself out of this.”

Nino felt an urge, and didn’t resist it. He reached out and brushed Chloé’s stray forelock back over her ear. “What about me?” he tried another smile. “I can read books too, you know. I could help?”

She didn’t pull away this time. Instead her eyes closed and she turned her head further, trapping his hand between her face and the couch. “I don’t want you to fix me.”

Nino wiggled his trapped fingers. It drew a smile onto her lips that was a faint thing but seemed genuine. He was adrift in this moment, it felt detached. It was strangely soothing. He asked a question that caused a tickle up under his ribs. “What do you want?”

She didn’t answer right away. She reached up and touched his wrist, laying her fingers across it. Those twilight blue eyes watched him behind a lingering film of saltwater. “Really? Right now?”

Nino confirmed. “Really. Right now.”

Silence, a slow build up in those eyes. Nino felt the tingle increase and spark its way down his limbs. Subtle imagined shocks tickled where they touched. Nino saw her building to-

Chloé surged from her position. She knocked his hat away, took his face in her hands and before he could protest or engage -He had no idea which- she was kissing him. Nino flailed for balance, they very nearly fell off the couch altogether. He grabbed hold of her for purchase and she melted against him. He had a moment to pull away when she took a breath, he didn’t. She was warm and pliant in his arms. She moved with a hungry purpose, touching, exploring. The moment at the console flared to life in the back of his mind, and all the iterative fantasies he had quietly suppressed.

She drew back. Nino felt himself resisting the separation, but let go. She didn’t go far, still sprawled across him. “Am I allowed… to want this?”

Am I? Nino swallowed and tried to clear the fog enough to answer. He raised a hand between them and touched a trembling hand to her burning cheek. “I think… so? Yeah.. just-” Good sense made demands, no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t. “Maybe… wait… a little?”

Nino knew he was dancing on a razor’s edge. Him, Nino, not detective Lahiffe. It was getting harder to separate the two. Chloé had a way of mixing them all around. He awaited judgment, with his pulse still pounding in his ears, and other parts of him cursing his own delay.

Chloé flopped against him, her head on his shoulder and her face nuzzled against his neck. “Wait? Do you even know me at all?” There was humor in her voice though, mingled with disappointment.

Nino laughed in turn and pet down Chloé’s back, causing her to snuggle in further. “I’m learning. Today’s just kind of full up already, don’t you think?”

She traced the logo on his shirt, sometimes with her fingertip, sometimes with her nail. The hair on Nino’s arms stood up. His resolve wavered. Before he could surrender though she pushed herself upright. She was still half-draped in his lap, but even the slight distance gave Nino’s mind room to breathe. Nino watched her, waiting, picking up little tells, motions, things to appreciate and find endearing in future solitude. He didn’t think about the fact it was only the second time he’d observed someone so closely.

Chloé seemed to be doing the same to him, watching, studying. “I guess you’re right. That, or I’m just bad at all this.”

Nino shook his head with a chuckle. “Definitely not bad.”

That brought a cheeky smile to her lips. “Well then, if we’re done yelling, and we’re not supposed to… do other things. What shall we spend time on? I’m definitely not going back to school today.”

Nino raised a teasing eyebrow at her, “Those the only two things you know how to do?”

Chloe bobbled her head in response. “Well, unless you’d like to read fashion magazines, dodge parents, try yoga, or do ballet.” She ran her eyes down him and Nino felt every inch of her gaze. “Not that you probably wouldn’t look great in tights.”

The smile she gave him at the end of that pronouncement did nothing to help Nino with keeping things chill. Chloé did not seem to have any setting below full tilt. The curl of her mouth brought the taste of her on his lips back into focus. The flash in her eyes had him thinking maybe, just maybe…

Nino saved himself at the last second. “I’ve got it!”

She blinked at the sudden reversal. Even as the distraction formed in his mind, Nino felt a bit of disappointment at being ‘saved’ too. There was something else to this though. It was a little sideways, a little odd. Would it all come crashing down the moment something… ridiculous… raised its head?

Nino nodded to the balcony. “Go on, I’ll be right out.”

She scooted back but protested. “What is it?”

Nino grinned and got up. “You’ll see,” was all he gave her to work with.

Chloé stood, looking dangerously close to a pout. Nino didn’t give her the chance, heading back to the foyer to dig into his bag and get what he was looking for. It was a pain, stuffed down in a side pocket, long unused but not forgotten. By the time he fished it out, she’d already gone. He closed his hand around the old friend and wondered how it would play out. Once more, the not knowing made it all the more exciting.

He pushed out into the balcony and the brisk afternoon air. If he had a surprise for her, she’d returned the favor in kind at least. His sweatshirt was properly worn now, zipped up with her hands gone in his sleeves. His hat was affixed firmly atop her head, with her ponytail pulled carefully out the back. She looked cozy, she looked… adorable.

Nino asked,”Are you gonna be wearing all my clothes soon?”

She countered, “Does that mean you’ll be wearing none of them?”

He paused, then laughed and walked to the railing. “C’mere, have a look.”

She followed, sauntering slowly in a way he found easy to watch. Once at the rail she peeked down into his closed hands. Nino obligingly opened them, revealing the blue capped red bottle.

“Just a little something to help relax,” he explained.

Realization dawned across her face. “Bubbles? Seriously? What could possibly be so interesting abou-” to her credit she caught herself. Chloé hunched her shoulders slightly and plucked at one of the cuffs on his sweatshirt. “I’m guessing you’ll show me, right?”

Nino unscrewed the cap. “Clever girl.”

“No one’s ever accused me of that before.”

Nino stole a kiss from her temple. “You’ve got more going on up here than you give yourself credit for, Beebee. Maybe try not to hate that?”

She ducked her head, both hands playing with the aglet on one of the sweatshirt strings. “No promises.”

Nino stirred the solution with the wand. “So, you know how to blow bubbles?” he prompted, then demonstrated with a quick spray of iridescent orbs.

She screwed up her face into a sneer, but it broke quickly into a desultory shrug. “Everyone can blow bubbles.”

Nino held the wand out to her. Chloé blew hard-

The soapy film burst without product. Ha, I knew it.

She glared at it, Nino just grinned and redipped the wander, offering it again.

Chloé blew once more, with the same result. Always 100%

She huffed and slapped the railing with a palm. “It’s defective! That’s what it is! It’s a trick! You’re making fun of me!”

Nino hummed, “It is a trick, but I’m not here to make fun of you, Beebee. Let me show you again.”

He blew carefully on a fresh wand. The bubble bloomed halfway, retracted, bloomed and flourished into a single large orb that floated lazily down upon the air. The two of them watched its journey as it drifted out from the hotel and across the street on a short lived Parisian tour.

Nino re-dipped. “And when you get good, you can do things like this.”

He blew again, prompting one small bubble. He turned the wand to catch it and blew again, attaching a second and letting them drift off together, spinning a slow waltz upon the air.

To her credit and Nino’s pleasant surprise she had let him perform his little show in silence. Even as the bubbles turned and danced away she didn’t immediately howl and scoff as she might once have. She didn’t even roll her eyes. She simply looked back at him, waiting. Maybe, I dared to hope, anticipating.

The stray thought, whispered out of film, didn’t presage a withdrawal this time. It was his thought, his world, with just a little film grain spread across it. It felt right.

Nino flipped the wand around backwards with a flex of his fingers, holding it upside down out the bottom of his hand. “You can use the knack for other things too, you know.”

Leaned in so closely, thought matched action without pause. Nino moved his hand and caught Chloé’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Those pink painted lips parted. The facade those blue eyes held in place cracked, and the person behind let out the softest of gasps. Nino leaned in further, and for the first time, he was the one to kiss her.

This one was gentle. Nino held her lips, keeping the pressure light. When he let the pressure ebb he felt as much as heard the soft whine in her throat. She leaned in, pressing to hold the kiss, but gently too this time. Nino let his eyes drift closed, with the slightest of coaxing her lips parted, and their tongues met. They explored, a warm moment that promised nothing more. When Nino drew back, Chloé wobbled slightly, but did not protest or seek to hold him. Her eyes were half-lidded and unfocused.

Nino basked in the feeling as much as the sight before him, finally asking, “So, what do you think, Miss Bee?”

Chloé’s eyes slid fully closed. She ran her tongue tip along her lips and let out a shaky breath. “I like bubbles.”

Nino couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread across his face. It was fun being the one who could teach, as well as being taught, for a change.

Chloé’s eyes opened and when she saw his smile, her cheeks pinked. She grabbed the brim of her(his) hat and pulled it down, waving a hand blindly between them. “Give me the thing. I’ll get good and knock your socks off, you just wait!”

With that he laughed, unrealized reserves of tension dropped away and were replaced with joy. He passed over the wand and they took turns as the afternoon wore on.

When the chill grew worse Chloé slipped around behind him. She opened his sweatshirt and pressed against his back, letting him leech off her heat. It was a new experience- She was tall enough to rest her chin on his shoulder and blow bubbles from the wand he held up for her. They didn’t talk. They didn’t even kiss again until the bottle ran dry.

When it did, they took it as a sign for him to go. She gave him back his hat, but made no move to return his sweatshirt yet. Faced with Chloé at the door, Nino found himself suddenly sheepish, his ‘cool’ plan already done.

I panicked, and you can do all kinds of mistakes when you panic. I let slip my private eye smile, flashing the pearly whites and fixing the brim of my topper. “See you ‘round, sweetheart?”

She looked me in the eye, and like the sun breaking the horizon, that smirk curled across her lips. She stepped in close. One hand pressed to my chest, fingers flexing and nails prickling through the thin cotton of my shirt. With the other hand she flicked my hat back up out of place. “See you ‘round, tough guy. Just bring the sweet guy with you too, he’s cute.”

Her lips grazed mine, barely a kiss. Restraint she hadn’t known mere hours ago. It seemed Beebee was a fast learner. This dame.

I was in trouble.

#ml fanfic #Miraculous Ladybug #chloe bourgeois #nino lahiffe #DJBling #alya cesaire

2 notes · View notes

jonathankatwhatever · 7 months ago

Text

29 Apr 2024. I’m having trouble reaching proof acceptance and I keep coming back to D-structure. The idea is that ideal forms construct in 1Space, which goes beyond Triangular and Hexagonal, etc. Okay, so that’s a wrinkle to iron out: the difference in D-structure between counts along szK and counts along any Layer. The difference is visually obvious, with the former going in and out along rays corresponding to the level of the mapping, meaning idealized to the s,x,y,zK notation. Have not gone over that for a very long time: the notation takes that ordering to represent and map the enclosure of xK and yK within the s,zK. The reason for that is the s,zK appear in both Irreducibles in Triangular and Hexagonal, which literally encloses the D3-4//4-3 space. I try to call that gsSpace so I don’t need to specify Euclidean plus the abstractions necessary, such as points at infinity, all of which we generate through this very D-structure and the operation of the Triangular structure, which I’m leaning toward calling Ideal Structure, because that becomes the original Is conception which transforms into fCM. Intermediary stop is Identity Structure, because the essence of Triangular is that the connection over a third draws the 2 who otherwise may be entirely unconnected into a relation. That’s what we’ve been doing, in various forms, including the basic hump of distance.

There’s something in that. In distance. I’ll see if it comes back. So, we can describe that aspect of the ideal, and that generates complexity which reduces to real. That’s a direct line from something I’ve been hearing but have been having trouble believing, that the misdirection could be so completely encoded to be K and Identity Mechanism or Model. It is the Identity Model underneath.

What was that title? Something about constructing a specific universe of or which embodies a specific identity model. Get the idea? It’s that the identity model, the IM, must exist within a universe in which it is the identity model. I like IM because that means im can refer to the internal identity model, the arrow in, and IM can refer to the external identity model, which is the behavior of the identities, which are Things in our terminology. Feels very late 19thC, with the nice classifications.

Wow, something just shifted. A joke just emerged. A totally tasteless joke, the kind I associate with you because only you could go there. It’s that you could be Sylvia and I could write a fiction about how I made you do it. It’s disgusting, which cracks me up. To me, that’s like playing the piano and the melodies and rhythms come through me. You have to be able to go there in your head, to know the space so you know you haven’t walled off part of you that exists in that space. And how can you understand how those attract if you can’t even look at the chain which leads there.

I decided to test an idea and it failed in the first step. It was that living here shows the benefits of smaller housing units: it limits the number of people with money who come in because there are fewer single family homes, and the units tend to be smaller than in multi-family homes in wealthier areas. That means upscaling requires demolition, which requires higher prices to justify, which slows the process. But it fails at the first complication, which is how do you build this now? The cost of construction of new is too high for ordinary people to afford in an urban area. And ordinary is a wide range.

The answer for that, like so many others, is collective activity. But there are too many stakeholders and properties are individually owned. So no solution is possible. Subsidies don’t seem likely to do much.

BTW, are you why I woke up today pissed off? Or was that me with annoyance building from the lack of needed inspiration? Or just spring knocking me back?

Distance operates as the 0-1-0. Then we segment the 1, which means we K it, and the identity model generates the identity structure which Is. Put in the rest of the notation and that’s correct. Nicely done. The idea is that Is has natural, algorithmically generated structure. That gets us to another branching, which is the notation for structure versus operation, meaning that Is stands for both structure and the operation which Is, like the way a crowd at an event makes the Is of the event. That is why the event may be more or less than the sum of its parts.

That applies over scales. Brace for impact. Oh, it wasn’t much at all. Anticipation. It’s not just for ketchup. So I picked up the distance note. It works because we enable or rather demonstrate the existence of a structure which processes across grid squares, across gsSpace. That expresses in a variety of ways, one being the idea of a quanta, which we can at least point at as embodying fCM.

Is that any good? The Planck material gets me to one power of 10 off. That is, I’m good at 662.6 because that hits -32 and that fits the halfway character, that it’s coming into visibility. I can now ‘explain’ that away, but it may be bogus because I don’t have a way of checking. It’s that the halfway is either or and thus we need a 10 in the middle over which we flip. Makes sense. So then I’m good at 66.26 because that’s within the 0-1-0 range of CM28. That’s obvious, right? Stick it in the chain and you get 1 over the 1 to 1. How many years do you think that understanding has been fermenting? That it’s fCM is the key idea, and that has remained true from the start. Now we connect that to Is with a different specificity: that Is represents the lowest observable pattern within fCM which generates Is.

Never thought I’d get that piece done.

So, the conception of D-structure is that 1Space ideals construct and generate structures which take physical shape in gsSpace. That generates D3-4//4-3 out of Irreducibles in Triangular, which are also Irreducible in Hexagonal. But it’s Hexagonal which reduces to Triangular, so one can wind around a Hexagon, which relates to Winding in Triangular, meaning it maps one to the other. I’ve mapped this in my head as this Hex runs around and there’s an Extent connecting that to some other Hexes which do the same thing, very much like a search algorithm using a ranking method.

What about D5? I know it’s necessary within D-structure to complete the D4 level, that it must extent to all but the 1 of the 0 of D5. That’s like the wanderings in the wilderness lasting long enough to make sure the generation which arrives is born of those who were born in the wilderness, a sort of barrier or firebreak separating the experiences. What’s missing is understanding the role of D6 here. A solution appears within Triangular, becomes visible, as that which is beyond this. I tend to think directionally but that just means any of the axis Extents. Oh, I see: the sheet is a sheet and it takes sheets to generate gs, and one sheet is one Irreducible. That fits this together. Not entirely sure about the words, but that works.

That is a lot of visual work. I need a break.

0 notes

wowzerwyrm · 3 months ago

Text

I’m thankful you take me as coming from good faith, as I’m doing my best to do exactly that, listen and respond and get your thoughts on the matter. I hope that my thoughts can be analyzed the same way!

And to be perfectly clear, I do agree with you on a lot of these things! And some of them, I admittedly have less information on, and I’ll try to be clear when that is the case.

In terms of economy, I don’t really think the cost is an object, to me. Everything costs time and money and labor to make, and lots of it isn’t going to show any results for a long time. The Large Hadron Collider cost $4.5 Billion to make, as one of thousands of particle accelerators around the world. That’s a lot of money just to smash atoms together, but the research in those eventually led to some of the techniques that we use to treat cancer.

AI, just like most technology, will also get more efficient and cheaper as it is developed. Unlike Bitcoin, where the whole point was that each subsequent coin ‘mined’ took more and more energy and computing power, AI will shift and change with all the other computers around the world to take less energy and less space and less labor. Compared to, say, the amount of energy used by everyone who plays video games, I’m not even sure that AI uses that much energy.

Either way, I personally would rather direct my own energy toward something like the US military, which I would very readily call a black hole, in the way that it gobbles up time and energy and money and labor in magnitudes more than anything else the US does, while the main product it provides is death.

And… okay so there’s just a LOT to go into about everything regarding AI and how it impacts and is impacted by everything we do. We don’t even have the numbers for energy here, and that would probably help a lot for that discussion. And I’m totally up for going into the details on economics and ethics (I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong to use art from the internet to train these models, for example, and I think that could be an interesting discussion as well?)

But I also get distracted easily (we both get a little off topic it seems) so I’m gonna do my best to focus on one thing at a time. This one being the original thought I was trying to get to, that being it’s possible uses in the creative process. And mostly not as the companies want to use it, but just on an individual basis.

The main first thing is that, yes, time is a resource. But not everyone wants to spend their time on learning illustration specifically, and I personally think that’s okay. If an author wants to create an interesting cover for their book, if a video editor wants to take a crack at making graphics, or if a seasoned quilter wants to make a comic about some of her experiences in the quilting community, AI as a tool might be an easier and faster way to get what they want without spending possibly years of effort learning how to sketch and ink and manage perspective and line weight and color theory and shading and shadow color theory and more.

And that doesn’t mean it would be effortless, or even easy. Getting a quality piece of art will still take learning and effort. (This post I think shows both some of the capabilities, and also part of what it takes to learn how to use them.) But it’s a different type of creativity and technical understanding, a type that might be more accessible to certain kinds of people, with different interests and ability.

Now, like you said, if you’re entirely lacking in a basic understanding of art, you’re still going to struggle. The more you know in general, the better the end product is going to be. Understanding the rule of thirds or speech bubble layout will help anyone make better art. But it all depends on what someone is satisfied with making.

Having studied essay-writing in school likely made both of us better at this sort of discussion, and that’s a good thing! But I wouldn’t argue that having an intimate understanding of the Epic style of prose and poetic meter is essential, even if it would likely make our cadence or somesuch a little better and more understandable and pleasant to read.

It’s true that I don’t think time should be an issue. But it’s not just big companies pushing people to work faster for less money that makes time a burden. Sometimes, someone just has a different hobby that they want to take up more of their short life on this planet, and giving them a way to dip their toes into a different type of creation without having to commit too much time to it is not inherently a bad thing, I think. Not everyone who wants to make an illustration wants to be an Illustrator, and that’s okay.

I, personally, am learning from first principles, and it is satisfying and rewarding for me to see my art improve in that way. I like to draw and I like to learn to draw.

But I also like pretty clothes and nice outfits. And even if learning to spin yarn and use a loom and sew clothes from the ground up might give me a better understanding of cloth and how it hangs and even make my outfits more tailored and perfect for myself, I don’t have the time or will to do something like that. So my outfits aren’t anything special, just good enough for how I want to look.

one thing that irks me about tech bros is that they fundamentally misunderstand how artists seek out tools to help their process

the thing about creating innovations and tools is figuring out how to streamline an annoying part of the process so you can get to the fun part of the process.

If I don't have to worry about drawing every strand of hair on a cat, that makes it easier for me to draw a cat: and so people in the community have made so so so many hair texture brushes with all these different and shapes to help me create that cat

in motion graphics animation, it'd be a massive time sink to manipulate a model Frame By Frame without keyframe interpolation. Keyframe interpolation is where you tell the computer to move an object from point A to C and the computer fills in what point B is. Its a feature and a tool that reduces the workload of a project and allows you to focus on what you really want to do instead!

which is why anytime I read and hear about a tech bro going off about the wOndERs oF Ai I wonder if they actually have any knowledge of the field they're trying to solve problems for, or if they're just moonlighting as Explorers of the New World granting Savages new technologies that they're too dumb to understand

#I hope that all made sense.#let me know if anything didn’t or if there’s a different topic that would make this one easier to discuss if we went over that first #thanks for chatting #the artificial condition

854 notes · View notes

twistnet · 3 years ago

Text

christmas morning [ eddie diaz ]

CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN PROMPT ─ day 25 [ “wake up, it’s christmas.” ]

WARNINGS ─ female!reader + general fluff

you awoke to a hand skimming along the expanse of your back, coaxing you from your sleep. you turned, finding eddie looking over at you with a bright smile, hair fluffed and sticking up in different directions.

“merry christmas, amor.” he whispers, pressing his lips against yours for a loving kiss. he hums contently, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“is it too early to get chris?” you question, sparing a glance to the alarm clock seated on the nightstand. it’s only just a few minutes past seven, and after a quick nod of assurance from eddie, you are both up and quietly making your way to chris’ room.

the young boy is passed out under his blankets, snoring softly as you and eddie make your way into his bedroom. you let eddie wake chris, standing back and smiling as the boy starts to stir from his sleep.

“wake up, it’s christmas.” eddie utters gently to his son, watching with delight as chris’ face morphs into one of happiness paired with a bright smile. he rushes to push the covers from his legs, eddie helping get his glasses on before the three of you head for the living room.

chris squeals excitingly as he takes a seat on the couch, taking the stocking from your outstretch hands before tearing through the contents. eddie settles in next to him, looking over the little candies and toys chris shows him from the stocking.

eddie moves the items to the side, allow for room as you hand chris his first gift, one from his dad. you watch as he rips open the paper, gasping happily when he pulls a new set of dinosaur pajamas from the box, “these are so cool, dad!” eddie chuckles, pressing a kiss the boys head, “you’re growing out of the ones you have, figured it was time for an upgrade.”

the two of you watch as chris opens all his various gifts -- ranging from toys, books and clothing. all of the gifts either from you and eddie, his abeula, carla, buck, or other family still living in texas.

chris shuffles off the couch after thanking you for his gifts, heading for the tree as he pulls out two gifts, smiling brightly as he hands them to you and eddie, “these are for you!” you chuckle, taking the gift from the boy to unwrap it on your lap.

you briefly hear eddie thank chris for his gift, pulling the boy in for a tight hug as you pull back the tissue paper to find a picture frame. inside, a recent picture of the three of you at the firehouse, but that isn’t the part that takes you by surprise.

the words ‘best mom’ are painted along the bottom of the picture frame, bringing tears to brim you eyes as you look up at chris. eddie quickly notices the tears, rushing to see what had caused the change of emotion when he sees the wording, “but i’m....” you trail off, not exactly sure how to word what you were trying to say.

chris just smiles, shrugging his shoulders, “but you read me stories, and you cook dinner, and help me with my homework, and you love my dad... those are all the things that a mom does.” tears flow from your eyes as you pull him in for a hug, whispering a ‘thank you’ as you press a kiss to his forehead.

chris moves off to gather some of his new toys, taking them to his room as you shift in your seat. hesitant to make eye contact with eddie. you brave it, sparing him a glance to notice he has tears forming in his eyes. you go to comfort him when he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours, “don’t let your head fill up with doubt, you are everything i could have wished for, for me and my son. i’m okay with it.” you nod, smiling as you lean in to press another kiss to his lips.

blog navigation ⇢ [ christmas countdown masterlist ]

✧ christmas countdown taglist

#911 #911 fox #911 x reader #911 imagine #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 x reader #9-1-1 imagine #eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2021 #celebrations :: christmas countdown

509 notes · View notes

donald4spiderman · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write something where you and spencer try viagra for the first time together, your sex life is fine you just wanna see the difference 🙏

THIS IS SO FUNNY I LOVE THIS YES ALSO NORMALIZE THE USE OF SEXUAL AIDS FOR ALL PEOPLE PLS THERES NO SHAME IN IT!!!

TW: sex, semi sub!spencer

“Do you think...” Spencer begins with a pensive tone, wringing his slender hands together, “We could try Viagra?”

“We?” You chortle, looking up at your boyfriend while seated on the couch.

“By we, I mean me.”

You raise a brow, “Why? Are you having... issues?” You point a finger in the general direction of his crotch. You’re unsure of how to phrase what you want to say without making Spencer uncomfortable. A blush settles over his neck anyway.

“N-No. Trust me. I don’t have any difficulties regarding my... sexual arousal.” He giggles nervously. “I just want to try it— just once— you know, to see if it makes any life-changing difference.”

You stand up to sling your arms around his neck, “Well, I am more than satisfied with our sex life. But, I’m down to be the beneficiary of this little experiment.” You give him a short peck on the lips, and he smiles.

“Okay. This could be r-really fun, right? We can record data and time things and—“

You interrupt him with another kiss, “You are quite the mad scientist, Spencer Reid.”

“Always have been.”

A few days pass, neither of you bringing up Spencer’s sexual experiment. The idea seemed to excite him at first, but the more he pondered over the logistics of having to obtain said Viagra, the more hesitant he became.

“I just don’t wanna have to go down to the store and shuffle around as a cashier rings up my purchase of one unit of Viagra.” He groans. “Going to the store is already awkward enough, and I know those cashiers love to judge me—“

“Spencer,” You sigh, “We live in the 21st century. The internet exists. I’ll order some off of Amazon.”

“Ohhh.” Spencer smiles. “Thank you.”

“No problem, babe.”

Your package arrives perfectly timed. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon free from the BAU. Neither you nor Spencer have any chores to do or errands to run. So the ding at your front door makes the both of you jump up in excitement. You’re excited because he’s excited.

“Okay,” Spencer announces as he unveils the pack of Viagra, “We need to eliminate as many outside factors or variables that could prompt any sort of erection or sexually aroused response from me. This means I can’t see you, and I can’t envision having sex with you— which will be even harder— so I essentially have to forgo any sexual anticipation to see the full effects of this drug. I also want to test the reduction in my refractory period. So we need to measure the time between the first and second round of sex.”

“Spoken like a true doctor.” You laugh. “Also, I’m flattered that I arouse you.” You wiggle your brows to which he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“So, I’m going to take this, wait 30 minutes, and then we can begin.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Spencer announces from the bedroom that you can enter. Despite the many, many times you’ve had sex, he still fidgets nervously on the bed.

“When should we start the timer?” You ask, stripping off your shirt.

“I-I guess as soon as we begin.”

You reach over the nightstand to press the green button on Spencer’s phone.

He grins before connecting his lips with yours. You waste no time seated yourself in his lap— he’s already rock hard (as expected from the Viagra), but it's not unusual since he tends to get excited very easily.

He lets out a huff as you slam him back onto the bed, your hand wrapping around his defined jaw. Spencer’s hands find their way to your ass, tugging and squeezing as you grind down on him.

Your clothes are torn off in a wind of flurry, time passing by at the speed of light.

Despite how eager he is, Spencer makes sure to take care of you. He’s not satisfied until you’re cumming twice. Your thighs clamp tightly around his head as his tongue laps and flicks at your clit, letting out a scream as he brings you to your second orgasm.

“This is the moment of truth.” You tease as Spencer lines himself up with your entrance.

“Actually, I’m more testing the effects of Viagra after orgasm.” He states calmly, breath hitching as he sheathes himself into you.

“Fuck.” You moan. “I really don’t care what your testing as long as it means you’re inside of me.”

“Uh-huh.” He sighs, beginning to shift his hips back and forth.

You settle on a steady pace, one where Spencer can focus himself on driving his hips in fluidly. You shake underneath him, breasts bouncing with each thrust. He tosses your leg over his right shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He always loves to be close to you.

“Such a good boy.” You stammer despite being out of breath. “Make me cum?”

“Y-Yes. Of course.” He nods, bottoming out inside of you. His left-hand moves to your clit, circling it lightly either two digits.

“There we fucking go.” You sigh, the knot in your stomach cooking tighter, ready to snap at any moment. “Fuck. I’m gonna come, Spence.”

He continues the stimulation on your clit as he reaches his high. You know how easily he can cum with you, and it takes a lot of strength for him to hold off. Once he feels your thighs quiver and your back arch of the bed, he allows himself to let go, knowing you’ll follow right behind him.

“(Y/N)...” He gasps, jaw slack as his body shakes, releasing himself inside of you. You’re spawning shortly after, screaming out a high-pitched version of what’s supposed to be his name.

You both panting heavily as Spencer pulls himself out of you, falling onto his back next to you.

“That was amazing.” You smile, placing a kiss on his neck. “But nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I know.” He grins back, cocky as ever, soaking up your praise.

“That’s why we’ll have to try again.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #sub!spencer #dr reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid blurb #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x y/n #bratty!spencer #criminal minds smut

710 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be.

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight.

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin.

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake.

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me?

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power.

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?”

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.”

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?”

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--”

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?”

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.”

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.”

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest.

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.”

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.”

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.”

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.”

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?”

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.”

“And someone is responsible.”

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--”

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.”

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--”

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.”

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?”

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.”

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed.

“Saints.”

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.”

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses.

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin.

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski.

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin.

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat.

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan.

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain.

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.”

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it.

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--”

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument.

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous.

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.”

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced.

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag

@we-love-our-bandz

2K notes · View notes

you-are-my-joy · 4 years ago

Text

The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist

<< previous chapter | ♡ | next chapter >>

In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire.

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement.

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent.

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise.

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward.

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath.

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight.

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions.

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face.

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure.

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.”

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm.

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes.

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand.

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress.

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?”

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return.

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.”

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face.

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention.

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him.

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal.

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process.

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag.

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten.

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before.

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males.

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society.

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress.

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern.

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest.

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name.

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was.

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago.

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare.

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?”

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious.

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible.

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion.

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her.

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind.

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly.

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past.

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination.

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp.

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command.

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again.

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest.

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest.

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him.

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!”

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!”

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you.

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly.

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general.

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you.

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds.

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you.

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to.

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else.

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye.

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm.

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking, “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly.

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you.

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.”

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you.

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind.

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention.

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.”

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed.

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi.

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated.

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents.

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose.

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh.

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her.

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area.

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable.

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there.

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them.

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his.

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them.

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind.

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart.

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did.

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again.

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.”

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence.

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him.

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face.

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?”

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.”

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time.

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly.

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi.

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim.

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him.

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you.

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately.

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him.

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space.

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.”

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face.

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head.

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking.

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you.

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod.

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her.

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you.

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns.

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings.

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

#poly bts #poly!bts #bts au #bts fanfic #isekai #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

809 notes · View notes

cyanide-latte · 3 years ago

Text

Commemini [Malignant oneshot]

Originally posted to AO3 here (please consider leaving a comment there! Just note it’s formatted a little differently on there, and it’s where my author notes reside.)

Rating: Mature (just to be on the safe side)

Word count: 1,535

Characters: Gabriel May

Warnings: the entire piece is written as something of a stream of consciousness rant from Gabriel’s perspective, directed at Emily, none-too-kindly

What is dreaming? Why do people do it and what does it mean that we dream? And don’t try to feed me any of that kids’ movie crap trying to pass itself off as poetry. I’ve heard it all, the same as you have, and I’ve known since earlier than most that it’s sweet lies.

None of those lies answer the question.

Do you remember your dreams, Emily? I do. I know every single one you have. Generally speaking, they’re either boring or saccharine-sweet. I’d gag if I could, but I don’t have a throat. It’s missing. Tongue’s gone too. The nightmares though, those I can taste and they’re savory. I’ve been there too, for each of them, and maybe you can feel me there easiest. That…shifting under your skin. You scratch your arms to all hell when your nightmares are real bad, did you know that? Nails dig deep enough to leave weals, always gone by morning.

As if you can just scratch me out with a penny and win the prize. It doesn’t work like that, sis.

Doctor Weaver tried; she’d call me something like…psychotic, maybe. Because of the thing about the nightmares. Like I said, savory…and also complicated. Your terror isn’t something I’ve ever been able to ignore, Emi. It’s invigorating. Invigorating, and sickening, and wild with that pumping rush of adrenaline current, and crushing in the weight and the guilt.

Weaver would tell you I’m sick. I’m a broken little monster, just some- some tumor that grew a sadistic streak to cope!

Maybe she’s right.

But the weight. And the guilt. It hurts, Emi, when you're terrified. It suffocates, takes the air out of us both. I’ve never been able to ignore your fear and terror. If I’m some irredeemable beast, then where does that leave my ability to experience empathy? Maybe it isn’t much but it’s there, and you’re the reason it’s there, so where does that leave me?

Labels are just for putting something you can’t define into a box so you can fool yourself into thinking you have control over it. It’s how that old bitch sleeps at night so comfortably after what she did. And you? You bought into what she fed you, didn’t you, Emi? All we had in the world was each other, in symbiosis, and the second she suggested to you that I was some subhuman problem you needed to get rid of? You believed her.

Maybe that’s why the nightmares give me such conflicted feelings.

I want you to hurt, sis. I’ve been hurting but I’m dead to you, aren’t I? You don’t even remember me. You chose not to. So yes. I see your nightmares and feel your terror and it’s bittersweet. Because I want you to hurt for all of that. And because I also need to protect you. Need to.

I’m your brother. That’s why I’m here.

Would you even care, if you remembered? Doubtful. Hurts to consider, but I’m not blind. You woke up and for years, the first thing you did was rush to hug that little blonde twit. Why? I’ve never understood that. It’s not as though she’s capable of protecting or rescuing you from anything. Best I’ve ever been able to figure is she’s like some comfort blanket you can cling to when you need it and walk away after. Sure, you could say you love her, you adore having a little sister…but then it became that selfish ass you keep calling a husband. He grinds my gears in his own way.

Who am I to judge you, though? It’s not like I’ve ever been able to offer you any kind of comfort, not like the option for that was ever available. Sometimes I think I’d kill to be held and understand exactly what that sort of material comfort is like. Sure, I’ve got an idea of what it gives you, but sensations aren’t exactly something I’ve got in perfect transference. And even if it didn’t fragment into half-recalled flashes of tactility, it isn’t the same as having it for my own.

My own.

What a laugh! The only thing that really is my own in any way tossed me aside years ago.

The birthday cake thing almost worked, you know. Almost. I don’t think that will ever stop needling at me. Is she that special?

You know the truth, so don’t dodge it. She doesn’t share your dreams with you. She may show up in them frequently, but that’s hardly the same.

Maybe some part of you is starting to remember me. Good. I deserve that much from you. We’ve never been apart once, the least you can do is atone for tossing aside understanding and recollection like yesterday’s trash. Maybe you’re starting to remember. Maybe that’s why she shows up in your subconscious, because you know it in your core.

You need me.

Symbiosis, not parasitic growth.

…

It’s quiet.

Not that that’s new. It’s been quiet for a long time. Haven’t had the strength to talk to you in ages, not for lack of trying. But it’s quieter than even that, when you sleep. When you dream. Boring, boring little dreams where Derek has ~changed~ and The Baby makes everything better and your fake family come over all the time. Perfect and safe and boring. If sleeping and death aren’t so different, then death and monotony aren’t all that different either.

Is that what you want? To die, slow and dragging and painless? Hah…I can’t fathom that. I’ve spent the majority of my life dreaming, Emi. I’m tired of just endless dreaming. Life calls, and it’s a siren song in your maddening quiet.

I have those fragments of your experiences. Middle school sleepovers, with lots of pizza and inane giggling and boy band songs on repeat. I could barely keep up with who was who, let alone if you even liked any of them. Trips to the mall, with that little blonde brat and her mother, and I’m glad I didn’t keep too many of those myself. The lighting in a mall seems miserable. The brightness and the noise…I want to feel those things for myself. Catching them in fragments was disconcerting. Wreaks havoc on the senses. High school, all reading and work packets and hormones and stress. How did you manage to make it through the day without my encouragement? It was like torture.

Church. Details in church visits, those remain stark. Did you sleep throughout most of church service, Emi? Bad girl. That borders on blasphemy, you know. But perhaps I should be thanking you rather than scolding. Your zoning out gave me that rather acutely, and it’s fascinating, this belief system that toys with sacred light and the rotting dark that festers in human hearts.

I remember you calling me the devil himself. After a while, it became amusing. I’m named for an angel. Perhaps one of the most well-known ones, the Left Hand of God. Something about that feels…empowering. Why shouldn’t I be an angel? Why shouldn’t I live up to my namesake? I know for certain that I have quite a few things to say to everyone who’s condemned me for the sake of just trying to salvage only you.

You’re not exempt from that either, but as with the nightmares, that’s…complicated.

When did you stop going to church? I’ve been wondering about that for a while. Sometimes I think it was when you started college, but then sometimes I feel like it was one of the bigger side effects of spending so much time with Derek. Who knows, though? Time blindness does that to you. To be honest, I feel resentful about that as well. Those church visits were the closest I ever got to having something completely my own, and to feeling like I understood things about myself.

Not that you’d know that any more than you would know anything else about me, willingly forgetting. Gabe’s just a bad penny. Scratch him out with us, Emi, and take home the prize.

Backstabbing bitch. I’m your family. The only real one you have! The only one that actually matters!

I can’t hate you for it, not completely. Were the situation reversed, I’d probably do the same in your shoes. I guess it really is a dog-eat-dog world, isn’t it, sis…? Maybe we really are all just animals, deep down.

No. Now that I think about it, no, we’re not. Heh, that’s what Weaver would try to sell you about me. Here we are, me looking to denounce her, and somehow her bullshit and gaslighting’s gotten to me too.

She’s the real problem. You want a bad penny, she’s the one to get rid of.

Hmm. Not a bad idea.

You’re tired, aren’t you? That’s alright; I understand. Just rest for now, Emi. I’ll keep watch. You probably don’t know I’ve been doing that all these years but maybe you suspected. But I’ll keep watch, like always. Watching…and waiting.

Rest, but know the time for forgetting is just about up, sis. Soon it’ll be your turn to dream, those endless, happy, soft little dreams.

And I…won’t remain a memory.

#Malignant (2021)#my writing and fics #fanfic link #crossposted from AO3 #Gabriel May #stream of consciousness #character voice study #Cyanide speaks

43 notes · View notes

tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn’t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out.

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

#Loki #Loki Odinson #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki / Reader #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Marvel #Self Ship #Writing #Fanfiction

270 notes · View notes

jonathankatwhatever · 1 year ago

Text

It’s 7 Nov 2023, and I was thinking about how men are, and that translated into how women are, and I was able to see the 1-0Segments for both, meaning I was able to infer the known to my experience 1-0Segment over me to you to the 1-0Segment of women because then we are treated as an Extent which crosses 1 to 1, which invokes the 1Space to 0Space generation of the Bip, which is what locates what we call irrational values to the hypotenuse of a grid square. In simpler terms, the Triangular attached to each lines up so it projects as an HG when any intervening 0Space is removed. This maps in a variety of ways: to a single gs as 1-0-1, to 3gs as the same, and in the Irreducible 0-1-0.

So we compress the 2 into 1 End, which rotates to align so the Triangulars attached essentially come into existence, meaning these Triangulars demonstrate the construction of that as the 3rd End to paired Triangulars as opposed to being an End in the middle of a pairing.

Yes, I’m trying to get out these images. I see the midline draw, across the Triangular, so there’s an fD, and the inverted End is both bending over and grabbing me from behind, which means we’re synchronized in the same direction taking turns.

This requires Alternation. This has been stewing for a while. And it came out in an image that shifted quickly from taking to being taken, from leading to following, from being held to holding, from being helped to helping, each one changing roles as necessary, as happens, as desired, and that all has to be phrased with a negative component for the imaginary unit circle to draw, because the imaginary unit is projection of the 1-0Segment in Coordinate Rotation. Or in an image: it’s if you imagine a 1Segment sweeping around looking for connection to make a 1-0Segment and it finds those at these specific places, if it finds them. Since this is always true, this enables that structure for any tangible Object, meaning within our notions of space, which we label generally as D3-4 Space.

A more specified label for this D3-4 Space would be using I//I to expand. So D3-4//4-3, and thus D4-3//3-4, and then all the Attachments, from D0 up to D3 and n layers above D4 down. Most notable is of course D6 since that projects to our hero and anti-hero structures. Or to expand that, hero and ante-hero, meaning the one who is in front now was previously behind the one who is in front now. That is, you can be at odds or you can be in succession, and I’m being overwhelmed with all the examples of that I’ve experienced built into Storyline. And further, into the basic structure of taking turns in play as fundamental to becoming the experience. That of course is the concept of submission and the concept of winning the other.

That’s the golden apple connection. What was here name? Atalanta? She stops to pick up the trinkets he dangled before her as in illustration of winning the other as a race which you win offstage because you must get the golden apples, must earn them or be given them by the Gods, which thus references your gifts, obtained and inherited, to run in the race with the girl. That’s how you get the girl in mythical parlance, as a series of golden apples you drop in front of her. Of course, it’s not clear in the story whether that’s marriage or sex being bought, which is how that literalizes out of the idealized mythology in which this is an eternal bonding and that is why he was given those specific gifts to woo this specific girl. And why her? He knows because he has the specific gifts to win her and that means she possesses what he wants to win, which in the mythology literalizes to her not being catchable in that way. That way is that which would sully her or which would somehow remove her eternal nature.

This is fascinating on a lot of levels, but I need to go back to bed now. This follows the same thing happening yesterday morning in a different way, in which I could suddenly see the types on the other side, as described above.

0 notes

radexchangeprogram · 4 years ago

Note

This is a random one but can I request head cannons of the Brothers and Dateables reacting to an MC that’s actually a half demon but was really great at hiding her demon side since she grew up in the human world? They see a demon man just bounding towards MC before the boys could do anything MC’s like “DAD! 😃” before jumping in his arms like a child. Around her Dad she gains fangs and horns like him but she reverts back to normal when she wants to. The boys are like “Why didn’t you say anything?” And she’s like “I’m just used to my human side” or “You never asked 🤷🏾‍♀️”

Of course! I love this idea. I didn’t get a chance to proof read this so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Author’s notes at the end (marked by *s)

Spoiler warning for up to chapter 17 to be safe. Especially with Belphie.

Half Demon GN!MC Headcanons

General

Everyone noticed that you never seemed too bothered by the fact that you were surrounded by demons, but figured you were just rather good at adapting.

This theory was proven wrong at a party Lord Diavolo hosted.

As you chatted with the brothers, a large demon with griffon wings, a lion’s mane, and horns similar to a gazelle began to head in the direction of your group.

The demon, who the others instantly recognized as Duke Vapula, walked up to them with a cheeky grin.

The brothers were instantly on guard, Mammon even growling slightly, as it was extremely uncommon for anyone to approach them so casually.

Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, and Solomon all took notice and were prepared to intervine should something happen.

You turned around to see what the issue was and let out a loud gasp.

“DAD!”

Lucifer

Absolutely dumbfounded. How did he not know about this? He read your files to the point of practically memorizing them before you came here and he swears there was nothing about you being a half demon.

He was honestly a bit embarrassed that he didn’t know about something this major.

When confronting you, all you did was say that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that you figured they already knew.

You really give him a migraine sometimes.

He feels a bit relieved that he doesn’t have to worry as much about you dying, though.

If you wish, he may start teaching you demonic etiquette, such as having you shift form at formal events.

If you prefer your human heritage, he won’t pressure you to conform to your demonic ancestory.

Mammon

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN HIS HUMAN ISN’T ENTIRELY HUMAN?!?

The loudest about his displeasure about not knowing.

“I’m your first man! I’m supposed to know everything about you!”

When you explain to him that you’re more comfortable with your human half, he calms down a little.

Tries to call you ‘stupid half-demon’ but it doesn’t feel the same as ‘stupid human’ :(

You tell him he can just keep calling you ‘stupid human’ :D

Wonders if he can get your dad to pay him for ‘providing his child with such incredible protection’.

You immediately tell him no.

Leviathan

Holy shit this sounds like something straight out of an anime!!!

Very upset that you didn’t tell him, you’re his Henry! You’re supposed to tell him these kind of things!

When you shrug and simply say that no one asked, he gets even more pouty.

You make up with him quickly by offering to play games with him all night.

Extremely curious about your demonic form for the primary purpose of cosplay. Do you know how many more characters you can be if you have a tail or wings?!?

You might inspire some fanfiction. (half demon Henry x Lord of Shadows au slow burn 100k words, def not Leviathan projecting no not at all-)

Satan

He is extremely shocked. Not only did he have no idea, but half demons are extremely rare.

From what he’s read, most half-human half-demon offspring don’t survive past birth and all documented cases that have survived reside in the Devildom so that their powers can be better managed.

He asks you about this and you reply that you’re actually quite good at controlling your powers, but that you prefer living as a normal human.

He’s not upset that you didn’t tell him, but he has a billion questions.

How long is your lifespan? Do you take more after your demonic father or your human mother in terms of power?What are your weaknesses?

He really wants to learn more about human-demon hybrids and will ask you to help in his studies.

Also a bit excited as your father is well known for some for his knowledge and writing about the sciences. He wants to discuss some of it with you, assuming you’ve read what your father has written.*

Asmodeus

Oh he is so excited.

A bit relieved that his charm isn’t wearing off, it just doesn’t work because you’re the child of a demonic duke!

You know those boiling hot springs he talks about visiting? Well he’s happy to learn that you actually can join him without fear of your skin melting off!

He’s not upset that you didn’t tell him, getting mad over stuff like that can cause wrinkles.

He will absolutely want to help you groom your horns/wings/scales/tail.

He already has shown you a lot about demonic fashion trends, such as extra clothing that can be fitted around demonic extremities, but now he actually can actually have you try on some! Do you prefer gold tail bangles or jeweled horn cuffs?

Beelzebub

Relieved that Duke Vapula wasn’t looking for a fight.

He can’t help but smile a little when you hug your dad. It makes him happy that you love your family.

When you blush and tell him that it just slipped your mind to tell everyone about your heritage, he isn’t upset.

Happy that he doesn’t have to be so scared of accidentally hurting you with how strong he is.

If you’re able to safely eat some more demonic food, he will absolutely get you to try some of his favorite foods that normal humans would die upon eating.

Overall, you’re still the MC he has grown to love and doesn’t treat you too differently.

Belphegor

Is now more awake than he has been the entire evening.

Half demon? Nah this is just some dream.

Is understanding when you explain to him that you prefer being human and living as a human.

He’s happy he found out after making amends with you. He used to despise half-demons just as much as normal humans, seeing them as repulsive.

He still very much treats you the same, but is a bit annoyed with his brothers.

With knowledge of your demonic blood coming to light, they drag you out even more often and naps with you are becoming rarer.

If you get too overwhelmed with his brothers constantly wanting to try things they thought would previously kill you, he will be more than happy to lend you some of his hiding spots. He does charge the small fee of getting to take a nap with you though.

Diavolo

Similar to Lucifer, is shocked that he didn’t know before you came to the Devildom.

You aren’t the first half-demon he’s met, but he is surprised that a demon of Duke Vapula’s rank had a child with a human.

He’s actually very excited to learn that you’re a half-demon who is in more in touch with your human side. He feels a lot more relieved that you aren’t as defenseless as previously thought.

He does, however, make absolute sure that you have full control over your demonic powers. Every other half-demon lives in the Devildom for a reason and he can’t have someone who is technically one of his subjects accidentally cause mass destruction.

He invites you for tea more frequently, asking so many questions about how being raised in the human world as a half-demon was.

He likes to exchange stories with you about your younger years and the power fluxes you both struggled with as you grew.

Tells you that should you ever wish to live in the Devildom that he would be more than happy to make the needed arrangements.

Barbatos

He knew the whole time. When Diavolo asked him to look into the success of the program, he made note of your heritage right away.

However, he decided that keeping this information hidden when he saw that you were raised human and preferred to be seen as human.

When he explains this to everyone, you can’t help but feel thankful.

While some of the others make no effort to hide how annoyed this makes them, he doesn’t mind. He knows he made the right choice keeping this from everyone and doesn’t regret it at all.

Barbatos is actually a pretty good friend of your father’s and grew up with him. He actually met you when you were a baby because of this.*

Solomon

He has seen a lot in his years in the world of magic, but nothing like this.

Usually, half-demons were very easy to spot as they struggled to control their powers, but you practically had it down to an art!

You explain to him that you’re actually pretty good at keeping your powers under control. He’s rather impressed by this and will ask to see your spell work.

Thinks it’s a little funny that he has a pact with your dad.*

Like Satan, he wants to know all about you. Unlike Satan, he is going to actually conduct experiments instead of stick to interviews.

He has a new potion that he wants you to try almost every day now.

Can half-demons make pacts? If so, you have now been added to the list of demonic beings he wants to make a pact with.

Simeon

Very surprised considering he’s blessed you before.

Blessings aren’t supposed to work on anything of demonic nature so he’s baffled.

When you explain to him that you were raised human and prefer to live as human, he smiles.

He comes to the conclusion that you being a good person must be greater than the demonic blood in your veins.

He treats you the same overall, knowing that you’re still you no matter your heritage.

Luke

Absolute denial.

There is no way someone as nice as you is part demon! He refuses to believe it!

Gets upset and accuses you of trying to manipulate him, which you quickly deny.

When you explain to him that you prefer being human, he huffs.

Simeon gives him a bit of a talking to, about how you’re still the same MC who he sees as a big sibling.

He bakes you some apology cupcakes for being rude to you.

You sometimes shift form to mess around with him, it never fails to make him let out a shocked yelp before he snaps at you for picking on him.

Everyone (except Luke) thinks it’s funny tbh.

Author’s Notes:

*Duke Vapula is described as being able to bestow knowledge about all science contained in books.

*Barbatos is also a duke in The Goetia. I thought a fun nod to this would be to have them as friends.

*The Goetia talks about the 72 demons that King Solomon evoked. Vapula is one of the demons that he evoked. The game actually references this by talking about his 72 pacts. Asmodeus and Barbatos are both included in the 72 demons which is why he has pacts with both of them in the game :)

809 notes · View notes