#and i truly hate that there is this view so widely accepted that only one thing is the right way

[blooms-in-april]

I'm thinking sad Jaskier thoughts.

It takes a while for Geralt to realize the music is gone. Oh Jaskier still sings- for their supper, for Ciri when she's sad, to entertain Kaer Morhen on late card playing nights. But the music- the music is gone. No more of the mindless humming as he walks, no more parsing over rhymes by the fire, no more harassing Geralt for his thoughts on such and such melody. Jaskier sings like a wind-up music box, only when requested, cranked for it, and snapping shut into silence like the sharp closing of a lid.

Yennefer snorts at his concern. "It took you this long to notice?"

Geralt grunts. She smiles, sharp and bitter. "You always were slow."

"How do I fix it?" Geralt snaps. He is not here to be mocked or play games.

"Can you fix it?" Yennefer asks. "I don't know."

Geralt doesn't know either. All he can do is try.

One of the mages had left a god's damned harpsichord in their tower room. It takes Geralt weeks- lugging the ornate monstrosity down from the mages tower, finding schematics in the library for the damn thing, undoing by sheer will the rot and moulding of a hundred years on the instrument. He spends his evenings waist deep in the guts of the instrument, swearing over chords and tuning and keys.

Jaskier's silence, now that he notices it, gapes like an open wound, bleeding wherever he goes. It stains memories of years past, of a cheerful smile and conversation given to him so freely, so easily, not a hint of subterfuge or awkwardness or fear. Now Jaskier only says good morrow if Geralt says it first, only speaks when spoken to, only smiles when Ciri is looking his way.

Geralt polishes the harpsichord until his fingers blister and his nose stings from the smell. He paints the elaborate carvings with pure gold leaf. He spends hours tightening strings trying to get the thing in tune. He worries over it like a child, because he doesn't know what else to do.

"What do you think?" He asks Eskel as they carry it carefully down to Jaskier's room.

"It's very nice." Eskel says diplomatically. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Appreciate it?" Geralt doesn't want appreciation. He wants that soft tone back in Jaskier's voice when he speaks to him. He wants Jaskier to speak to him, to turn to him free and easy with something to say.

"He'll like it," Eskel says, "Just-"

He turns, his soft eyes full of warning. "Just don't put all your hopes on an old harpsichord."

Lambert snorts, "Too little too late!" He laughs. And Lambert has always been hateful, more so since Aiden was lost, but the words feel true.

Jaskier smiles when he presents him with the harpsichord. He exclaims and laughs and claps his hands. He extolls its virtues, coos over its decorations, fusses over it with all the enthusiasm of a performing parrot. He pulls Ciri onto his lap and guides her hands on the keys, composes a little ditty on the fly for Yennefer, plays something sweet and sad that makes Lambert turn his face away. In all the merriment and gratitude and excitement, he looks Geralt in the eyes only once. Once, upon the first shock of the present. Once, with eyes wide and open, like a wound.

Geralt lingers as the others go off to bed, watching as Jaskier slowly fades as his audience wanes.

"Thank you, Geralt." he says. "It is truly a magnificent present. And far more than I deserve."

Do not thank me is what Geralt wants to say. Do not thank me, not when I have done this to you.

"I didn't do much," is what comes out of his mouth. "It was already there."

Jaskier does not look at him. "If this is an apology-" he says, "I do not need it. You were tired and upset. You spoke your mind. And nothing you said was- untrue. From a certain point of view. You do not need to absolve your guilt to me."

"Jaskier," Geralt says. "I'm sorry."

"And I forgive you." Jaskier says "I forgave you even the moment you after spoke. I don't think I would be myself if I could do otherwise."

It is done. The gift given, the apology accepted. And yet the silence still sits heavy in the air. It is not fixed. It is still broken. It is still out of tune and all of Geralt's twisting and tunings have not set the melody to rights.

"Why are you still like this?" He says. Jaskier stiffens. The words are wrong again, he's done it again, and he could scream with frustration, like a child who keeps swinging the sword and cutting himself on the dulled edge.

"Do you know the Countess de Stael bought me a Stradivarius once?" Jaskier said. "You don't know what that is. A fiddle, rarer than rubies. There were only twenty ever made. It sings like nothing else. She presented it to me on a bed of velvet, and told me she loved me. She told me to stay. And I would have."

Jaskier plinks a few idle notes. "She kicked me out a month later. Too mouthy. Too tacky. Too gauche. She had found someone better. She took back the Stradivarius and handed it off to her new minstrel."

"What I am saying, Geralt-" He says. "What I am asking- Is that you not do things you do not mean. That you not give me false hope. That you stop trying to make me love you, because I already do. I already do and it hurts. It hurts so much."

[mitch-the-silly]

hey!!!!

I’d like to request vox (I sense you like him a normal amount) x gn!reader headcanons where the reader is an overlord and is in charge of theatrical productions such as musicals, in which vox sees as ‘out of date’ and therefore detests the reader, but the reader is oblivious to this and is always seen trying to befriend him? I could see this as some good slow burn :)))

thanks a ton! 🎀

I DEFINATELY like him a normal amount :)

Anywho- Have to write for this guy more often and the second I saw this request, I knew I was gonna have so much fun writing this! Vox slow burn is literally my kingdom come-

ENOUGH SAID-

Vox x gn!thespianOverlord!reader

Cheery and old-timey, that’s how Vox viewed you. 

Truly, he only interacted with you because the musicals you produced for his films sold very well. But the world was begging and in need of more realistic movies and shows. Musicals just weren’t as interesting to him. So he always saw you as a luddite. Maybe not to the extent he saw Alastor that way. But your mannerisms and theatrics reminded him so much of his rival, so despite you having done nothing but benefitting favors for him, he kinda hated you on the lowkey. But who didn’t he hate at this point?

He at first found you extremely obnoxious. The way that, at times, people flocked to your theater productions instead of his movie premieres… 

Despite this, despite hating you so, you were always so kind to him. It baffled him truly, that you never caught the hint. 

The amount of time he’d rejected your invitation for coffee at your opera house should have already given the hint but you always figured he was busy (he was one of the most powerful overlords after all).

Every time a meeting was held, you spoke to him before and after the meeting. Always in such a friendly manner that made Vox smile awkwardly at you. He couldn’t outright tell you to stop talking to him, that would give off the wrong impression about him. So he would try his best to socialize with you without making you think you two were friends.

At times, you’d send him friendly gifts after collaborations. 

You’ve given him blue roses after writing a particularly famous movie musical that earned both you and him a huge amount of money. 

(He’d never admit it, but they made him feel special. He put them in a vase and kept them alive as long as possible.)

You definitely text him as if you two were friends. Which he always responds to very dryly, but you figure (again) that he’s probably too busy to put much thought to the text. Either way, you’re happy to hear back from him. 

He does ghost you on occasions, which you don’t take personally (much to his dismay).

You find yourself always speaking fondly of him and his image. Admiring him to some degree. The way he acts in front of everyone, you ought to ask him to try acting for a production! His skills impress you a lot. And you’ve told him before. Which, for a moment (and only for a moment), made Vox think you weren’t that bad.

Oh, what he hated the most… it had to be seeing your play advertisements plastered all over the city.

Hell, you would also go up to him and ask him if he could advertise your shows. 

You’d pay, so he couldn’t say no…

But the medium you expressed yourself with, oh how much he detested it!

Sometimes, out of courtesy (despite how much he detested you), he’d always accept the invitation to come to your Opera productions. Velvette liked to see the outfits the actors wore (and criticize them), and she always ended up dragging him along anyway. So he always ended up going when invited. 

This particular time, you were putting on a production of Phantom of the Opera. The actress who was supposed to play Christine/The Phantom got severely ill, and the understudy was killed in the recent extermination. So it was up to you to take matters into your own hands and save your production.

The second he saw you in that scene, his eyes shot open wide. He’d never seen you act before. Hell, you looked so good on that stage, that even Velvette’s heavy criticisms of the play’s costume wardrobe didn’t move him. 

And your voice! God… He’d wish someone that pretty/handsome would sing to him like that. Maybe it was the character you played and how they depicted them.

Matter of fact, he was paying attention to the plot this time. Unlike the other occasions. 

The fact that you were willing to jump in and play the part perfectly as if you’d been rehearsing it every day surprised him. You’d be perfect in one of his movies, he just KNEW IT!

After the production, you approached him. Speaking to him and thanking him for coming to see as you always did. 

The way he smiled at you was no longer full of false politeness. He now spoke much more freely with you. And it made you feel like you were finally important enough for him to have time for you! It was such a great feeling!

He didn’t want to admit how his perception of you had changed but let’s just say he began to plan more musicals. 

Velvette knew what was going on the second he stayed to talk to you a bit longer than usual. She made fun of him for DAYS.

He would begin to respond to your DMs with less dryness.

And he would accept your offers to drink coffee at the opera house (he’d deny them sometimes to not raise any suspicion on your side or from his fellow Vees). 

He would publicly deny any ties with you and would try his best to balance it out by telling Valentino just how “annoying” you were. 

Vox being the obsessive little man-child he is, would survey you. Or rather, jump in excitement the second you appear in the sight of one of his cameras. 

He’d set up a camera in your opera house just to see you directing rehearsals and even to see you practice.

He refuses to admit his feelings, but his fellow Vees are finding it hard to pretend they don’t know. Vox is… very obvious…

He begins sending you roses (yellow so he doesn’t make anyone think that he’s THAT obsessed with you).

He might start spiraling a bit when he sees any man approach you. But oh no, he had to keep himself together. You two were nothing, he didn’t like you! He only stayed close to you for convenience! …right?

Until he received another bouquet of blue roses signed off as “-Your Thespian Angel of Music”. 

Oh, he went nuts! He had to find the footage of you signing it off. And just as he suspected, you were bashfully smiling as you wrote the note.

He couldn’t! He simply couldn’t let this change his mind! But he didn’t have much time to think about the move you’d made, because you’d invited him for coffee soon after. 

Oh, he couldn’t keep himself together that time. Your smile, the warmth of your fireplace… it was all too much for him.

So it slipped out his mouth, he invited you to come over to his place and watch a movie. 

You gladly accepted and after agreeing to a date for this to happen, you two were set!

Of course, he planned for you two to watch a musical together. 

When you arrived at the V-tower, he was anxious to make sure that you were greeted properly. So he himself walked you to his area. 

Sideye from Velvette because she just knew that Vox inviting you was him admitting to them that he was definitely into you.

During the movie, he admits that he thinks you’re pretty cool and you take it as a huge compliment!

When you go home after the little date-not-date, he can’t get you off his mind! The way your eyes shone in the TV’s light, the way you paid careful attention to every scene. Oh, he was so stupidly in love with you.

So what did he do next? He spent his free minutes texting you. Sending you Envees (the hell version of TikTok) he thought you’d like and you sent him some back. 

He’d start advertising your stuff for free now! 

If it wasn’t already obvious to the Vees, now they knew he was head over heels for you.

Eventually, he got Velvette into thinking you weren’t that bad… Maybe she could put some more style into your shows.

After a few months of you talking to Vox and Velvette casually texting you, she was fed up with Vox’s obsessive giggling when he saw you in the cameras, so she told you. 

Yup. Velvette told you he liked you.

You were elated, to say the least. To be seen in a favorable light by such a powerful overlord was one thing. But to be the object of his adoration… Oh, you were more than happy.

So you set up another coffee date with Vox at your opera house.

To his surprise, you kissed him at the doorstep of your opera house.

It almost fried his circuit. The lights in your building flashed a bit and you could have sworn he was glitching in the middle of that kiss.

After which, your relationship was VERY MUCH PUBLIC.

Vox posted about your musicals almost every day.

He’s definitely the type to go to your practices and post you with a caption like “My Angel of Music”, “My Romeo/Juliet”, or “My Christine Canigula/Jeremy Here”. Something in reference to the lead or most adored role of the production you’re currently directing.

He’s corny as fuck in private-

He’d definately cuddle to watch whatever new musical you two just co-produced. 

He funds your shows and is kind of embarrassed to admit it, but he’d blow marvelous amounts of money on you if he could (he has to be smart about how he spends his money and the fact that he can’t just spoil you as much as he wants, destroys him).

He also hates to be caught accidentally humming along to your musicals. He claims to not care about those things at all (he knows the entirety of your repertoire by heart).

[neoarchipelago]

tw for rape and sorta mentions of suicide (just basically saying kys in context ) for those very sensitive or triggered by these!!

but like i went through all the posts i could find and they never said anything bad about non con or dubcon she said rape fics were bad- and the point of her being a “hypocrite” for writing dubcon confuses me as why would someone who didnt support that stuff write it? it doesn’t make sense to me. i understand not liking her point on the kys bit but you guys got really hung up on it and completely missed the point of it about literal rape being romanticized and used as a fetish, not noncon and the likes used as a coping mechanism. it breaks my heart to see especially from people i supported and enjoyed a lot and got me into this community supporting rape. ive dealt with lots of sexual assults and have been raped myself a few times starting from a young age and let me tell you, its horrible. me and my boyfriend do get quite rough at times and do indulge in things like noncon- something that is used to cope and can help- and it is so much different than actually being raped. if you like it rough and dirty trust me girl i completely get it but actually being raped is the most demeaning, violating, and live devastating things that can happen- not to mention the other physical side affects of it. not trying to spread hate, maybe i should be for supporting it, but im more just sad? like seeing a community im so into and my biggest comfort character ( who also has dealt with rape) supporting and defending it all just feels like a betrayal and so debilitating. so many of my safe spaces have been ruined in a physical and metaphysical sense and it just reminds me of the sa when i was a teenager and other boys on my team (i was raped and abused by multiple wrestlers as i was the only girl in the sport in a very large state wide tournament hosted by my school) joking about it and making it not serious not taking me serious and sexualizing the whole situation and thinking i was lucky for a chick. just sickening and heartbreaking to see and the worst throwback thursday ever.

Hi love. First of all, I'm truly sorry of what happened to you. No one should ever have to go through that and you are truly amazingly strong.

Thank you for sharing your point through respect and calm.

I'd like to throw you back to this essay that explains my point of view here. Of course, it's understandable if you don't accept it. I'm not here to convince anyone on this. This is sharing a point of view.

Here, hoping that you fully understand.

This will however be the last time I'll debate on this subject, further comment or anons will simply get a copy paste.

THIS CONTAINS SA , SH AND SEXUAL CONTENT, BE CAREFUL

I- dub-con, non-con and CNC kink in fiction.

A- the place of these themes in fiction and how it separated from reality.

I think the line has to be drawn. A line people seem to forget too easily. Obviously, rape is a horrible thing. This fact has never been refuted in any fics or novels or books. No writer will ever tell you, ‘rape is awesome and soooo romantic’.

Fiction is absolutely fiction. We are aware of it. There's a big difference. This obviously something readers choose to read being aware of fiction. Being aware that the real thing is horrible. Warnings and tags are always there to avoid readers unaware of it.

B- the differences with other themes

One thing I've been asked is what kind of difference writing rape is from writing dub-con or even pedophilia?

On dub-con, the line is blurred. Softer, protagonist may be in a path where the sexual action is wanted but blocked by the mind or pushed to it by the other protagonist, forcing their own need to give in. It is still seen as rape as consent is not fully given. There's not much difference from non-con. Writers usually use this tag to avoid any triggers to people.

For pedophilia, let's see this in a more details. I think we can all agree that all these themes, dub-con, CNC, non con, always involve adults. Whatever it is the kink, or in stories, it’s adults. Adults who are aware of what sex is and what this kink it. Children should never be near any of those themes. It's not about kinks anymore, children don't have kinks.

II- the reality of voicing your opinion on internet

A- SA victims and SH victims, sexual shame

Now there's something we need to talk about. Writing theses themes are used by many as a coming mechanism. SA victims may often use these writings to help the aftermath of these events in their own life.

In the kink itself it's something that obviously causes a lot of shame towards people who are not part of it. But many things need to be said. It's a need for a control of a situation that is dangerous and traumatizing. It's a sign of truth with your partner. Fiction is a way to live that fantasy in full safety as they are clearly aware of the truth of that situation in real life.

Now the thing that has started this whole conversation was the ‘don’t forget to tell rape kink writers to off themselves’.

It is not a small detail. Not at all!

This is where fiction is separated from reality. You are telling a real person to commit a real act that could lead to fatal consequences.

Obviously I think we’re all aware that many people on this website suffer from depression, self harm tendencies and bullying. I do too. Your words matter. Trust me. We’ve seen it with Inquisitor’s death while a live TikTok.

Many other tiktokers who had helped not only spread rumors but bully the creator only realized their mistake once he killed himself.

This is a no turn back situation.

Do you think you have the guts to wake up in the morning, knowing someone killed themselves because they wrote something you were against? That you are the reason they died? Their families are grieving?

You can find an article on the CNC kink here:

-https://www.choosingtherapy.com/consensual-non-consent/

B- respect even through anger

We have established one thing. The internet is a wild, free universe. Anyone can say or write or post whatever they want.

You are free to voice out your opinion, anger amongst these binary and servers. But one thing that is not ok is the way you say it.

A point doesn't need to be full of hate or threats to be said. Especially when serious consequences could be blown by it.

Everyone has their opinion, things they don't like. You are free to avoid tags, not read, block people. Protect yourself first. But attacking isn't protecting yourself. You’re simply causing another kind of harm.

People need to own up to their words and actions.

If you tell someone to kill themselves, it's horrible. It's an actual crime. A full crime.

-

[corvidcrybaby]

Judah utterly loathes being a vampire. This sets him widely apart from Alucard in terms of how they handle their vampirism. Alucard, on the one hand, is a resigned monster. He accepts what he is, and tries to have fun with it, but that doesn't stop him from often wishing that things could've been different. I view him as someone who has made as much peace with his fate as anyone could, in all its highs and lows. But never once does Alucard make excuses for what he is. While he has his own qualms about his situation, he's fully accepted his vampiric nature, which on its own is quite a feat.

Judah, on the other hand, is a fish out of water. Being turned into a night creature from a belief system that was not even his own, being ripped away from his life, his family, his faith, his people - the only way he could make sense of his going vamp is that it must have been what he was always fated to be. And as such, he must carry the weight of that fate - but he hates it every step of the way, and refuses to accept his vampiric nature in full. To do so would be to bid farewell to his Judaism, as far as he is concerned. As an orthodox zealot in life, this would never do for a man like him. He hates his fate, but he does not pity himself for it. Judah shambles about like a drunkard in his vampire body, like someone who has only learned to drive the shittiest car in the world by total necessity and nothing else. He died in his armor, so he has remained in his armor. He died clutching his hammer, so he carries it still.

Alucard is resigned to being a monster. Judah is resigned to his fate as a monster. He walks with his vampirism, but does not embrace it. He embodies the monster when necessary, but rarely with pleasure. He kills to survive, but does so in the manner he would have when he was alive. Judah has fallen into a pattern of preservation of what he sees as the irreplaceable vestiges of humanity within him which is both ramshackle and robust.

Judah is both too old for words, and growth-stunted. He is both wizened and a fool. He believes he has no other choice than to walk the road he is on, but never acknowledges the decisions he made that brought him here. He believes himself the master of his own fate, but also helpless to it as well. He is a man of contradictions which are both true at once. He is complicated, and bone-simple at the same time.

Judah is waiting to die, but not until he has fulfilled a nebulous goal of some kind. And even he does not truly know what that task is which he believes might grant him permission to end his existence.

[sheepgirl3]

I have so many things to say about this and first of all, I feel heard for the first time in this fandom outside of fanfics.

I myself enjoy several authors who have proclaimed themselves antis and whilst that’s absolutely their choice, it’s sad because many times I’ve felt othered or dirty. First of all, let’s tackle the points.

“It’s incest.”

Not really, but let’s talk about that.

Incest is relations between people of the same bloodline, typically regarded as immediate family or cousins, the like. Let’s talk about the inaccuracy in labeling cloneshipping as incest.

Interpretation is entirely subjective. We know that clones call themselves brothers. Ok. Let’s break that down. If you’ve ever interacted with anyone of the military or first responder backgrounds (even just watching emergency dramas), please think of all the instances where these working relationships evolve into friendship or something akin to family. I’ve heard of many instances where soldiers refer to each other as brothers. They aren’t related. But they have each other’s backs and they’ve gone through hell and back. They have experiences that only those in that brotherhood can understand. The clones call each other brothers because they grew up together. They were all they ever knew and all they could ever rely on, even when the clone wars came about. They were in a brotherhood. So the fact that the clones call each other brother isn’t necessarily supportive of the claim of incest.

Also, I advice the consideration of the fact that likely, they didn’t have other words to describe their relationships with each other. Nothing described their closeness, not even the term friend. Sometimes there aren’t words, so you choose what seems like the closest one.

Let’s examine the biological component. Siblings generally only share about 50% of DNA. The combination varies. Clones are exact copies of their DNA donor, to almost 100%. Let’s strip away the individuality for a moment, as much as I hate to. Clones are clones. The clones of Jango Fett are biologically speaking exact replicas, not his actual children. Unless he’s producing the next Jesus, he would generally need another person’s DNA for that.

So, in literal terms, you haven’t got an army of siblings. You’ve got an army of copy paste where sometimes the ink prints funny.

Let’s add the individuality back. This is where our copy paste individuals have their own personalities. They are sentient. They have emotions and independent thoughts. They are just as human as we are. With that comes the ability to make their own decisions. Absolutely there are clones who view their brothers as actual siblings.

But they also have the right to choose.

Let me give you this. I have a wide chosen family. I have a wide friend group. Some of these people I refer to as siblings. It’s a word that describes their importance in my life and the willingness that I’d take a bullet for them. However, theoretically speaking because there’s no friend I want to date, but there is nothing stopping me from dating one of them. Sure, socially it could take some adjustments. The dynamic of the friend group would shift. And it’d certainly be weird to continue to referring to each other as siblings, but as long as you don’t do that you’re good.

What’s to say the clones can’t do the same?

They’re not biologically siblings. They are biologically copy paste of each other. Socially, they view each other as an extensive family, put together of the only people they could truly relate to. Would it be odd to shift that into something romantic? Sure, at times. But just like any chosen family or friend group, friends can switch to more than friends or switch back to only being friends. It’s up to the clones’ interpretation of what they want their relationships to be.

Personally, I think to say otherwise is denying the clones a right to choose. Which also denies them the label of sentient which you refuse to accept that they can choose.

Also adding that biologically, all clones except Omega are men. So even though children conceived could have some issues from the DNA crossing, that isn’t an applicable issue here.

“I still don’t like it”

That’s ok.

When did we lose the ability to accept that not everyone likes the same things?

This fandom is particular is horrible about it. Very few people are allowed to just be Star Wars enjoyers. You have to pick a side in everything.

Prequels or originals?

The only correct answer to the sequels is saying they’re trash.

This or that is just fan service.

They should’ve done this, but didn’t so it’s the WORST thing ever cause my headcanon wasn’t done.

Oh they’re catering to the liberals (or) conservatives.

Every fandom has this but damn. Star Wars is so bad about it.

We cloneshippers aren’t trying to indoctrinate you, believe it or not.

It makes me sad every time I see a “clonecesters DNI” tag. Why? Why can’t I read your beautiful story or look at your amazing art? Just cause I ship clones doesn’t mean I don’t see them platonically. As long as I respect your work, why can’t I view it?

Really, what works just as well is:

“I know there are people that ship x y and z together, but I’m not personally into that. With respect, I ask that any comments steer away from shipping these characters together to maintain the author’s muse for the characters they enjoy.”

See? Easy. People that ignore that really are just dickheads.

It’s ok if we all enjoy our own things. It’s ok to not be able to see clones as anything other than siblings. It’s ok if you ship them. Why must we all be the same?

Author’s brief musing:

The censorship is very akin to homophobia and transphobia in the media.

Many Star Wars fans are queer (myself included). Many antis are, I’m sure. I’m not calling anyone phobic (though I wonder if the clones mostly being men does have an impact on some people). But I ask people to pause and think of the parallels.

Back to the point:

Is cloneshipping problematic?

Sometimes, and I will tell you those times. Any time which involves any relation not safe, sane and consensual (sexual or not).

*studies notes* hmm. Looks like that’s the same for…every single ship possible.

If all characters are safe, sane, and consenting adults (at least bodily and mentally if not in years cause clones with advanced aging), and we’ve already gone through how they aren’t actually related so there’s not that issue, then what’s the harm?

You are allowed to not like it.

I just ask that you accept that it’s not the Devil incarnate many seem to think.

Let people just be fans, man. Don’t like it? Scroll.

I’m rambling at 1 am and a bit drunk, so I’ll end it here. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

The misinformed hatred of cloneshipping now appears to be spreading outside of the TCW/TBB fandom to the larger SW fandom, and it's abundantly clear that some of these new antis don't even know what cloneshipping is.

They get their facts from existing antis, who have taken it upon themselves to decide what cloneshipping is all about, in complete disregard for how cloneshipping is actually portrayed and interpreted by cloneshippers themselves.

Now, I don't believe that fiction affects reality to the extreme extent that antis do. In fact, I believe that decades of media studies have proven otherwise. And this is especially true of fanworks, which are limited to a very small and specific audience. This means that I don't necessarily see a problem with "problematic" content in the first place. But I also find it important to make it clear that cloneshipping does not inherently belong to that category.

The idea that cloneshipping equals incest is subjective. Antis would have you believe that cloneshipping = incest is an irrefutable fact. But the majority of cloneshippers would point out that that clones are an entirely fictional concept with no real world equivalent in the first place, and explain to you that the idea of seeing cloneshipping as incest is foreign to them.

Antis would also have you believe that cloneshipping is about fetishising the characters and sexualising abuse. In reality, most cloneshippers are deeply passionate about doing the characters justice. The clones are portrayed as distinct personalities with realistic motivations and rich inner lives. Their relationships are typically respectful, loving, and supportive. Clone culture is often envisioned as open, inclusive, and free of judgment when it comes to sex and romance, or lack thereof. There is safety, comfort, positivity, and respect. For many cloneshippers, this idea of clone culture is one of the most appealing aspects of cloneshipping.

Does that sound bad to you?

[silverfox419]

it starts with self-hatred.

or some other form of suffering. then comes looking for answers, for a solution, for a new point of view, for comfort. you don't find what you're looking for, not at the surface. so you go looking deeper. desperation leads you to something taboo. they welcome you, comfort you, point you to the answers you seek and give you a sense of belonging. they care. and the more you start associating with them, the more you adopt their point of view. screw everyone else, screw societal norms, they're the bullies when here is where you found your home.

and that is a disturbingly common way people get indoctrinated into radical feminism and become terfs.

why am i pointing this out? because people in need of help turn to this community, and guess what, they get help! and it's only a matter of time before someone who previously identified as trans becomes a transphobic man-hater all in the name of feminism and empowering women. they feel guilty and alienated for finding a family in the widely-hated terfs, and end up surrounding themselves more in terfs and less in actually accepting people. it's scary!

and guess what! the solution isn't to write "DNI terfs" on your tumblr blog and spread posts about wanting to kill all terfs! for one, terfs have no reason to respect your DNI other than to avoid harassment. two, this just reinforces terfs' idea that it's them against the world and they only have each other to rely on. so what is the solution?

well, there isn't a clear one. cults- yes, radical feminism is a cult- will always find vulnerable people to prey on. but what can help is showing support for everyone's experiences. this includes people who de-transition, people who feel victimized by the world for having certain body parts, and any other common trait found in terf communities.

it's alright to change your mind! you don't have to stick with a certain gender identity if you don't want to! people who stick with their assigned gender for all their lives, people who transition once and never again, people who identified as trans or nb and realized that wasn't right for them, people who's identity is ever-changing, they're all a beautiful part of the human experience!!

and this isn't to say that you should try to "cure" every terf you come across. hell, i just went on a terf blocking spree because frankly those random blogs were none of my business and i neither had the time nor the energy to try and preach to them. but say i or you discovered a beloved mutual was a terf? shunning them will only make them further believe in the ideology. if you truly care about them, try having a genuine conversation about how they got there and why they're hurting you along side so many others.

[mpxyingyue]

Yingyue accepted his reasoning. Truly, she did not need to understand his powers, though it did peak her interest. She suspected if they saw each other more that he would then know more. And, Yue would not hesitate to ask more when the time presented itself. "Hmm. Noonas has an in-house musician. You should try dinner there one evening. I could even go with you, if you would like. I am curious too what might happen."

Shifting her gaze to him, she grinned playfully. "That was a joke, Vitas. Though, bites are more sensual in my opinion. If I am willing to bite you, I may not be in love, but I am definitely interested in more than friendship." She explains. Vitas gave her the impression that he truly wanted to fully understand everything she stated. And while she felt she was rather intelligent, he would learn that much of her opinions came from the heart than mind.

Yingyue thought them both were an amusing pair. Vitas was so stoic and matter-of-fact, while she was nearly the exact opposite. Yet, Yue appreciated the person he was even with his oddities. "Don't take me too seriously." She reassures him though. Wanting to make sure there is no misunderstanding. "I can be a bit too playful for my own good sometimes." She cheekily admits. Yue had clearly been warming more up to him as they had walked, and that flirtatious side had shown. Though, she was genuine in her actions.

She had felt content in his acceptance of her opinion of love. He had so many questions, and all she could do was try and come up with an explanation. She believed in her understanding, and she could only see herself ever with someone who mirrored her intentions. Vitas would be a ongoing work for her. While she still did not fully understand his impressions of love, she knew that she wanted to see it live and in action with whomever his soul was fated for.

Crisis had been adverted by her new friend. Though, Yue could not help but wonder whether he would have actually tried to help her if she had stumbled. She could not quite imagine him leaping to her aid, but so far, he had only been considerate to her, so she gave him the benefit of doubt.

Pulled from her thoughts, she snickered softly. "Work on my creativity? I don't need to always be creative to have fun. And, I must save that energy to be able to use when flirting with you." She teases him as they start to cross the intersection toward the residential area. Yue hated that their time was drawing to a close, and she reasoned she needed to ensure soon that she could maintain their ties together.

"Do not underestimate how easily I am entertained. I spent many evenings of my childhood copying lines from Tao Te Ching after breaking the rules of the monastery." She chuckled with a grin. Her eyes flickered between him and the path before them. Switching to Chinese, the demigoddess spoke, reciting a line that she had wrote over a thousand times. "Not seeking, not expecting, she is present, and can welcome all things.” Back to Korean, she stated. "In the uncreative, I do find enjoyment."

It was wild to think how long ago that was. From wearing worn, used clothes from her brothers to walking the streets in her overpriced workout clothes, Yue's life was completely different from back then. The demigoddess was pleased, something very apparent on her visage. She wondered what her master would think of his rebellious Yue being able to remember the teaching after over a decade.

Looking up, she had noticed, as her apartment building had come into view, that the clouds started shifting away from the moon. And she wondered if she would get the chance to spot his strings before they separated. Quickly, as if trying to give the clouds time to move, the demigoddess stopped in front of him once again. A wide beam on her lips. "Vitas, let's trade phone numbers." She quickly moved to pull her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it for him. "I need full access to my walking Google."

Her remark regarding him clearly being intelligent only elicited a single, definitive blink in acknowledgment of this fact. As for his powers being confusing, again his slender shoulders rose and fell slightly with a subtle shrug. "It is what it is. For me, it makes sense and that is what matters. In your case, you see strings in the moonlight and connections between people that I will never see nor understand. Seems balanced to me."

As for his information absorption occurring with music, there was a faint spark of interest as she raised questions that he had also theorized quite a bit since the incident in the museum. "A fair inquiry I have also considered. Not just the musician's efforts in practicing the piece, but the history of the composition itself, the instrument it upon which it is played, the materials used to construct it, the life of the musician themself. How far does it go? Warrants practice."

Truth be told, Vitas hadn't really spoken much about his abilities to anyone. When asked, he tended to just say 'learning is my superpower' and leave it at that, so engaging in this in depth discussion was a new experience as well. What's more, he was interested in learning what he could from this woman who claimed to be somewhat sheltered due to her life in the monastery and yet had more experience and knowledge in other things than Vitas had, and it intrigued him.

So she suspected he was sour to taste and not bitter? Good to know. "You said you have never been in love," he said with a pensive, quiet monotone, "so how do you know you will only bite when you are in love?" Whether or not he was 'safe' from her antics was irrelevant; now, he was naturally curious how she knew this fact about herself--or if this had just been a joke; he legitimately could not tell the difference most of the time.

When it came to choosing between saving the world and saving the one he loved, Vitas knew what he was supposed to do--it was his obligation as Odin's son to choose the world, that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. He also had never been in love--oh, he had read plenty of stories and papers, watched movies and listened to songs all on the subject, but he had never personally experienced love, so he could not rightly say that, if he ever did, he would make the same decision...though he also suspected that, if he ever did find a partner, they would understand the choice to save the world over them and forgive him for it...because that would be the logical choice to make...wouldn't it? But the way Jiang Yingyue described it, the way love was supposed to make one feel, it sounded as though that logic would be thrown out the window and the world would burn, both her and her lover consumed by the same flames. Either have the world with her lover in it, or have no world at all.

By her description--coupled with the many literary and arts references he had consumed throughout his life--love truly was the most powerful force in this universe or any universe for that matter. Interesting. When she said she would do everything in her power to save him, too, even if he didn't make the 'lover cut', he nodded once. "How considerate. We'll all burn together." He didn't particularly believe her when she said that; after all, they barely knew each other. Did she really consider him a friend in so short a time? So bizarre.

There was a slight risk that she may not have detected the patch of ice, that she would have fallen and injured himself had he not voiced a warning, and then their conversation would have been cut short if she had fallen and injured herself...and he was silently enjoying their talk, even if he seemed a bit standoffish and abrasive at times. So perhaps that was the reason why he opted to warn her...maybe...possibly...

Hopefully, he would not regret this decision.

Once exiting the park, the sidewalk transitioned to an intersection at the street separating them from the residential district. Booted steps came to a stop at the curb, pausing to wait for the pedestrian crossing to signal they were clear to continue. "We need to work on your capacity for creativity then," he replied. Surely, she could imagine far more exciting or fun things to do with her time than spend an evening chatting with a disagreeable archivist monster.

[cursedsunoo]

Hii if you don't mind can i ask for fanboy! enha's reaction to idol! reader noticing them? Maybe in a concert or vlive? Thanks xx

% . . . non-idol!fanboy!enhypen's reaction when their idol crush notices them

#warnings — n/a

#pronouns — they/them

% . . . heeseung

to heeseung, just breathing the same air as you was something that he treasured, and seeing you in person was something that he was sure he was contempt with — yet when you offered him a smile and a wave, one that he knew for a fact was directed to him, heeseung re-evaluated his previous statement (he could now accept death at any moment due to you noticing him — a true send-off in his eyes)

% . . . jay

listen, he didn't usually partake in the whole live comment section, often settling for setting the live off to the side as he focused on a task, but with the topic at hand jay really found no choice but to type something — his comment was easily flushed away by the hundreds of others pouring in, but when you read his comment with a smile, jay thought that he should participate in the comment section a little bit more

% . . . jake

he didn't have close seats by any means — tucked off to the side and not in the direct view of the stage, yet he and his friends had gone all out as if they were sure you and your group would look at them. when you walked to their section of the stage, you drew attention to the bunch of them and their signs, sending a heart towards the boy holding the sign jokingly proclaiming his love for you (he searched the internet for any sort of capture of that moment for the following days)

% . . . sunghoon

he was a big fan, don't get him wrong (he was the biggest simp for you as well — you being his ult bias and whatnot) but he didn't stand out in the crowd so his hopes for you to notice him were low. however, when you ventured off from the group and down one of the side stages, you happened to notice a certain tall brown-haired boy who looked at you with stars in his eyes — shooting him a small wink as well as finger hearts, you sang your part in the song

% . . . sunoo

sunoo didn't hate anything as much as he hated fans swarming idols — so when he noticed you in public (your mask and hat pulled over your face) he kept his distance so he wouldn't draw attention to you. yet when you noticed the obviously flustered boy send glances your way every so often, you offered a wave paired with a small bend at your hips, thankful that he let you have your space (let's just say sunoo wasn't only able to see you, but he also walked away with a signature and a photo before you left for your dorm)

% . . . jungwon

he had met you only once before, at a fansign a few months prior, and despite his hopes that you would remember him, he remained conscious of the slim chance that his hopes would turn out to be true — however, when your eyes lit up and you tried to sound out his name, getting the 'jung' portion of it correct, jungwon found himself smiling ear to ear as his cheeks heated enough to rival a flames (he became a face that you could memorize forever — him with his wide toothy smile with the dimples)

% . . . riki

the chat acted as his diary of some sort when you went live — he ranted, he made cute or even funny comments about what you were doing, and he never backed away from complimenting you. when your brows furrowed as your scrolled through the chat and you read his username out loud, ni-ki almost swore that his heart dropped into his stomach, and he could feel the small amount of tears gather in his eyes when you offered advice on his situation (you truly were someone he looked up to and respected with everything he consisted of)

taglist — open

add yourself here!

@fiantomartell // @wonderwrench // @ddeonubaby // @minspalette // @msxflower // @gimmethatcoffee // @hoonbrry // @squiishymeow // @bubblejunnies // @jakehugger // @blaqpinksthetic // @minhyukmyluv // @enhacolor // @icywhatim // @missmorosis // @norboko // @abdiitcryy // @ddeonuluvs // @genderlessflower // @ilandsghost // @jwisungzen // @rinyx // @chewychubchuu //@heelariously // @clarakyunisageek // @odetoyeonjun // @peridaunt // @sk4tersoobin // @ja4hyvn // @one16core // @blaqpinksthetic // @kyungm1ns // @sunoo-bby // @blessedsunoo // @woniezs // @ilandsghost

© cursedsunoo — all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost my work without my explicit permission

[guzmapkmn-archive]

guaranteed chemistry

ও word count: 1,346

ও relationship(s): pre ryan/oswald

ও warnings: none

ও summary: ryan struggles with his feelings as oswald celebrates the election. set during 3x04

ও notes: me dancing around writing a confession fic that literally happens 2 episodes later. also there may be mistakes but that's bc i finished this at 1am

ok to rb!!

The mansion, as it had been the last few weeks, was packed full of Oswald’s campaign team, with their low chatter filling the remaining space. I stood towards the back of the room, trying and failing to focus on the TV screen. The reporter’s babbling about tonight's election was almost a white noise, drowning out everything around me, so I hardly noticed the rhythmic tapping of Oswald’s cane against the ground as he headed my way. He came to stand beside me, with his suit sharp as always, and his neat hair unfortunately devoid of spikes.

I did my best to match his wide smile, but it felt much more forced than I would have liked. Luckily, Oswald didn’t seem to notice, or he at least didn’t mention it. “This is it,” he said, “the moment I’ve been waiting for.” He broke off into a nervous chuckle then fell silent, following my gaze to the TV before speaking again. “I… thought a lot about what you said the other day.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, though I felt I knew exactly what he was talking about. The other day, when I told him my thoughts about him paying off the election to guarantee a win. I know for a fact he could win on his own - after all, who was his competition? Aubrey James? The man was a hack - but he wanted to make sure. I wasn’t the one running for mayor, so I wasn’t going to call the shots for him, but knowing he had spent so much of his life as a criminal, so hated by the public, I knew an honest, genuine win would be beyond gratifying for him.

“About my decision to buy the election. I… I hope you’re right.”

“You took the money back?”

“Yes.” He pressed his lips together tightly. “You seemed so sure I could win on my own. I trust your opinion. And seeing everyone who didn’t know cheer for me these last few weeks has been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Despite Oswald’s confident words, there was a hint of anxiety in his voice. Which was understandable, after all, anything could happen, but I didn’t want to get him down with my usual pessimistic ways. And besides, I truly believed that he could win - that he would win.

The TV cut back to the news segment, about to announce the election results, and Oswald fell stock-still beside me, barely even breathing. I held my hand out to him and he took it, almost crushing it in his nervous grip. Silent anticipation filled the room in a moment that felt like hours, which made the applause that followed almost deafening.

In what can only be viewed as a seismic shift, even by Gotham standards, former underworld kingpin Oswald Cobblepot has won the mayor’s office by a landslide.

Oswald dropped my hand, speechless and teary eyed amidst the cacophony of cheers erupting around us. “I… I still won.” He took a step forward then turned back to me.  "They... they love me," he breathed, tentatively, as if he didn't believe it. As if there were any reason for him to not win.

I grinned widely at him, real and genuine this time. "Of course they do, who wouldn't?" My breath caught in my throat as soon as the words left my mouth. I didn't mean to say that. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice the true meaning of my words, too caught up in his euphoria and the chanting of his name, from both the broadcast and his campaign team.

I hung back as he began to accept his congratulations and praise, practically glowing with excitement and joy. He looked so beautiful, and I so desperately wanted to tell him so, tell him how amazing he was, but he disappeared into the crowd before I could even begin to work up the courage.

~~~~~~~~~~

“It is with a humble heart that I accept the trust placed in me by this great city to become your mayor.”

Oswald stood in front of the crowd, long after I decided against telling him how I really felt about him. Cameras clicked and flashed around me as he spoke. 

“The people have spoken, and I have heard their call.” He locked eyes with me before continuing. “As my first act as mayor, I would like to introduce you to my chief of staff, Mr. Ryan Campbell!”

My mouth dropped open and my face flushed dark as everyone’s attention turned towards me. I felt like a deer in the headlights, standing awkwardly amidst the throng until I noticed Oswald waving me up.

I somehow never even imagined the possibility of holding a position with Oswald, thought I probably should have seen it coming. After all, what else would I do while he’s mayor?

My brain went on autopilot as I made my way up to stand next to him, and when he grabbed my arm to raise it proudly, I really truly felt like my heart would beat out of my chest or my legs would give out. I had never had this much attention put on me before, especially so suddenly. Was I supposed to say something? I wasn’t sure, though it didn’t seem like anyone expected me to.

The rest of the night passed by in an overwhelming blur, and I was glad to find myself sprawled out on my bed in comfortable clothes that didn’t feel like they were choking me. A knock on my door shook me out of my daze, and I sat up into a more flattering position. “Come in.”

Oswald entered my room, still dressed but a bit disheveled. “Hello there, Mr. Mayor,” I said, grinning at the laugh he huffed out. I patted the bed next to me, swinging my legs over the side when he joined me. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I still can’t believe that I won,” he said softly. “I’m the mayor. Me.”

“I knew you could do it. I always believed in you.”

“I know.” He looked up at me. “And I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” I ducked my head, embarrassed at the praise and raw emotion in his voice. There was no way that was true, I knew for a fact he could do all this and more, with or without me. 

After a beat of silence, he spoke again. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that, especially without warning and in front of so many people.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “But… are you sure you want me as your chief of staff and not, you know, someone more qualified?”

“Of course,” he said matter of factly. “I trust you more than anyone.”

Fuck. It was so unfair, how he could say things like that to me so easily and not know what they did to me. I could feel my face start to heat up, and I once again wanted so badly to tell him how I felt about him. How much I loved him. It’d be so easy, right? Just say it - I love you.

Oswald stood up before I could speak, oblivious to the complete and utter turmoil my mind was in, but saving me from the embarrassment of what I’m sure would have been a lousy confession anyway.

“We’d best be getting to sleep soon, tomorrow will undoubtedly be busy.”

“Yes,” I said. “Goodnight.”

As Oswald left, I cursed my cowardice and failure to tell him how I felt tonight, not only once, but twice. Although, I thought, settling into bed, perhaps this was fate telling me to just keep it to myself. After all, no matter how hopeful I was, I could never convince myself that Oswald would ever feel the same way towards me. I could settle for what we had now, no matter how much my heart ached for him every time he was near. I had to.

taglist (ask to be added/removed!!): @permafrown @sweethardtz @me-myself-and-my-fos @themorningdoves @dazaipaw @ilovekirei @final-catboy @sweettoothselfships @knightfallships @nikkzships @basilships @cyberwoman @lovinglittlecrow @halsdaisy @ramlethl @deanportmans @librarian-lover @dissonantyote

[derekscorner]

Fated Rantings: Mordred

I have begun watching Fate Apocrypha pt 2

I mentioned two characters that stand out to me from Fate Apocrypha and while the first is Astolfo the second is Mordred....good lord this poor child.

I can see why she’d be popular for a myriad of reasons. “Saberface” for one is a known inside joke from Type Moon but also a valid marketing stunt because fans do like them a “saber face”.

Others may cast their own worries or beliefs on identity or gender onto her. Many more may simply like her character for far simpler reasons. If anything, I’d argue focusing her on face or projecting your own ideals onto her doesn’t really do her justice.

For one, Mordred is fully aware of their unnatural origins and shared face with their “father” Artoria Pendragon. Fans may like it or find it entertaining but in-universe this can’t be a light subject.

Similarly, Mordred nearly cuts down her master for being referred to as a woman yet is fully fine with dressing as one or things that would be seen as womanly.

That alone tells me Mordred world view is highly complex for reasons that are very similar to Artoria yet also unique. Any fan knows that within the Nasuverse that “King Arthur” acted as a man because women simply wouldn’t be accepted as king. Even if they were chosen by a holy sword.

In this respect, Mordred will also have hard feelings since only “King Arthur’s” “son” could be an heir to the thrown. They were quite frankly done unjustly by the time they lived in.

This was only made worse by the decisions Merlin made while raising and guiding Artoria in the decades prior to Mordreds birth. Merlin himself being fully aware of his own disconnect from humanity.

Truly, a huge reason Mordred even exists or succeeded in destroying Camelot was because Artoria herself acted as a “perfect” king but not a “human”. She suppressed that humanity and you could argue she had a hard time even feeling it due to her agelessness brought on by Caliburn and Excalibur.

Of course, you’re at this point likely asking what this has to do with Mordred or you’re typing a response of hate that a 90s pale as paper man would even dabble in topics that I (in earnest) know little of. To tumblr’s dismay I am indeed a straight male.

I only brought up these views because I do think projecting on Mordred can simplify the depth while the character itself says little on such subjects in story. I’ll see how wrong I am by the end of the anime I guess....

Back to Artoria. Why is the six or so previous paragraphs important to Mordred? Simple. The limited views of women during that era and Merlin’s disconnect from humanity quite literally fucked both Artoria and her “son” Mordred.

From what I understand, Morgan le Fay hated Artoria because (in this universe) they were both full blood sisters yet Artoria was set up for kingship when Morgan herself held the specific magic that marked Britain’s rightful king.

Morgan’s efforts to ruin her sister were wide and many but this directly affected Mordred as well. The very act of Mordred’s birth is rather horrible if you think about it.

The irony is also palpable. Merlin and Urther Pendragon went through some lengths to make Artoria the promised king. Artoria’s upbringing created someone who suppressed her humanity and desires, was rendered ageless by a holy sword, and even invincible by the scabbard Avalon.

But there was one thing Artoria couldn’t cheat, her inability to bear a child with her wife Guinevere. Merlin’s big brain idea was to use magecraft to temporarily make Artoria male or at least a hermaphrodite of sorts.

Morgan caught wind of this, got into the castle, and quite frankly charmed and took advantage of her own sister. This isn’t just sick on the level of “slipping a woman a roofie” but an act of malice.

Morgan’s malice, on top of the magecraft involved on both Merlin and Morgan’s parts, caused Mordred to be born with Artoria as the legitimate “father” but Mordred was rendered a homunculus.

Not only was her face and body a copy of Artoria Pendragon but her lifespan was laughably short. She aged and grew at a rate that’s just sad for me to even think about.

Worse yet, Morgan either didn’t care that Mordred was her child or didn’t see her as a person/child in the first place. The treatment Mordred had compared to her siblings was supposedly quite stark. I do not know if that includes a physical abuse but there is a strong manipulation involved.

In Mordred’s own flashbacks she was shown to be raised solely to sneak into Artoria’s court and seed rebellion. When Morgan saw that this was failing due to Mordred being enamored by “King Arthur” she chose to shatter Mordred’s happiness by revealing her heritage to Mordred knowing full well it’d end in rejection.

Mordred was so sure she had fixed Artoria’s heir issues only to be met with a rejection. This moment is where I see the depth and tragedy of her the strongest.

In Mordred’s mind, she was rejected because because Artoria hated Morgan. She just assumed that as a child of a “witch” born under very dark circumstances that she was hated by proxy.

Given Mordred’s words in the anime I can even infer that Mordred may have thought this, in part, because of her own hatred for Morgan. She says things that display a clear dislike for her mother.

The tragedy here is worse than this. Mordred lived a short life with a mother that thought little of her existence, was told to keep hidden in her armor for most of her career in Camelot, and was an unnatural being as far as the world itself was concerned.

What she wanted was acceptance from someone. She can go on about being a king or what have you but her relationship with her master mage tells me that she just wants some level of acceptance.

This fact alone is what makes Artoria’s flat rejection all the more painful. Mordred assumed it was for petty personal reasons but no, Artoria, Mordred’s ideal king and “father” rejected her based on cold fucking logic.

Artoria, true to her own upbringing, deduced that Mordred did not have the makings of a king. There was no malice in her choice as stated by her in a flashback.

In other words, Artoria rejected her progeny with neither hatred, guilt or good intentions.

Mordred wasn’t even worth feelings of hate or love from her father. That is, by far, the worst kind of rejection you could possibly garner. To be a non factor at all.

Of course, Artoria’s emotions were suppressed not nonexistent. It’s entirely possible that she did hate Mordred during the rebellion but the actual rejection that led to that rebellion is the issue.

The damage was done. Mordred was doomed to fulfill her mothers goals through the faults of Merlin and Artoria. I wont say this makes Mordred blameless entirely given that the fall of Camelot came at great loss of life.

She’s not a saint after all but it is entirely possible to emphasize with her. She wasn’t given a chance to be more than this. Mordred is also far more human and in touch with her desires and emotions despite being arguably less human than her parents.

That is why I find Mordred to hold so much depth. That depth only grows as she interacts with her master in the anime. There’s a complex and dejected soul there, one that will slit a throat yet keep innocent “commoners” (as she calls them) safety in mind.

She has a heart and it is entirely tragic that the failings of her time and parents led her to this outcome.

=======================

For my other experiences with Fate go here: https://derekscorner.tumblr.com/tagged/fated-rantings

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern 

masterlist | part 2 

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound! 

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

-

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[cornfarm]

waves against the rocks

saiki kusuo x reader

word count: 2.0k

synopsis: you show saiki your powers. he’s unbearibly jealous, yet for the first time, he feels seen and understood by another person.

cws: mention of the reader having a bad family

genre: melancholic fluff

reader is gender neutral!

===================================================

notes:

greetings... i promise i’m working on cease and desist part 2 but i keep starting one shots;; I ALSO DECIDED TO CHANGE MY TEXT FORMAT... i yoinked all the capital letters away... it feels a bit more liberating

whenever i make my crazy op self insert oc, i always think about how i can make them a foil/double to the characters i like. for example my gintama s/i is also a traumatized war veteran. i thought like... wouldn’t it be fun to write the reader character as a direct foil AND double to saiki? they have everything he doesn’t, but he has a lot that they dont and it’s like,., mutual jealousy.

i also wanted to write saiki properly empathizing with someone. aiura and toritsuka are so fun because they both have different moral compasses with their powers and how they’d like to use them. however despite the fact theyre all psychics, saiki can’t really empathize with either of them.

i wanted to have saiki be excited about something, and feel truly seen. empathy is a very powerful thing.

i hope the “ability” i chose isn’t too cringe;;;

i can’t help but feel like i write saiki ooc so feedback would be super appreciated!

===================================================

perception. the way people are seen by others, the mental images and sour thoughts rooted in nothing but misconception. the falsafied persona of greatness, beauty, and kindness. perception.

you kept saiki afterschool. tugging at his sleeve, you quietly asked “i need to show you something, stay here for a few extra minutes?”. he refused you at first, but you stayed firm, “i need you to stay.” fierce. he decided to stay.

but you stood before saiki, right? were you there? he suddenly felt a bit weary, head pounding at the thought of you. your name, voice, scent, failing to find matches in his library of records. when he thought of you, his brain flickered through the faces and names of everyone else he knew.

you were a gap, a void, a sudden unconjurable memory. it was horrifying. but he quickly accepted it. the body circling behind of him was none of his concern, because there was nobody there. he supposes he should go home now. why was he standing alone in the classroom anyways?

firm hands land on his shoulders, warm, present. he remembers why he’s here.

“it’s not that i’m invisible, it’s just that your brain can’t recognize me, and refuses to acknolwedge me as a thing that exists.”

like a wave crashing against a rocky shore, the void is filled. your voice, your scent, your name, all slotted back into place in his mental library. he recognizes the hands on your shoulders as yours. 

a hand snakes around and pushes up his glasses, covering his eyes.

“it’s not about visibility, it’s perception. you are unable to percieve me as a living thing, or of anything of importance. that’s why you can’t read my thoughts, and that’s why you’re so quick to give up trying to recall me.”

he’s practically trembling- you have one power. it was simple, but it managed to find a loophole around practically all of his.

“that’s terrifying.”

“right?”

you take your hands away and step in front of him. he adjusts his glasses properly.

“were you born with it?”

you nod, “it caused me trouble when i was a kid. i almost got left at an airport,” you chuckle.

“does anyone else know?”

“i’ve tried to tell my parents but they don’t believe me. they called me a liar and delusional, so i decided to stop trying with them. nobody else knows, i’ve never told any of my past friends either. when i found out about your powers, i thought maybe someone would finally understand. that’s the only reason i wanted to tell you.”

your lip quivers, “you believe me, right?”

truth be told, saiki’s stunned. he wasn’t expecting someone like you to have such an abrasive ability. despite how reclusive and fittingly unnoticeable it is, it was certainly powerful.

he’s jealous. you were able to freely aquire something he wanted- privacy, but he does believe you, afterall he just watched you waltz around him, outside of his keen field of view. 

“yeah, i do.”

you smile, bright and wide- you’re nearly trembling. was being believed that big of a deal to you?

you take a step forward and embrace him, wrapping your arms around his torso as your head presses against his chest. he goes a bit stiff, and glances at the door. “hey, someone might walk in-”

“it’s fine.” you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and oh. your eyes are glimmering, shining greater than he’s ever seen them, “they won’t.”

burying your face back into him, he tenataively wraps his arms around your back. you continue, voice muffled, “’m sorry, you’re the first person who’s accepted me. i’m happy.”

the emotional explanation for your actions ease him a bit, “it’s fine.” he states back.

you finally pull away, and for a brief moment as you lose connection, you flicker out of his view, but you come back in again, placing your hand on his.

“actually, i can touch you while using my power without you being affected by them, but i’m manually using it on you right now.”

“if you touch someone while making sure they still can’t see you, what does that make them experience?” his voice is clear, a bit fierce in tone. you always had trouble reading saiki, but you could tell that this was interest. perhaps he was threatened, but he was certainly intrigued.

“they might whirl around and look who’s touching them and account it to a person around them, but if not, they might think they’re having sensory hallucinations. i can also talk to people, but because my voice doesn’t have any weight to it, it’s almost like a hypnotic suggestion.”

“so you can brainwash people?”

“not necessarily,” you let go of his hand, you must have released your power, your eyes are dark, “if i suggest something to someone and it’s something mild, they’re more likely to do it because it already falls into their line of thinking. if i suggest something bold, they might do it thinking it’s an impulsive thought.”

“most people won’t do extreme things, they’ll read those as intrusive thoughts. but sometimes people think my voice is the voice of god, or a passed on relative, and will do intense things regardless of their judgement. others have poor impulse control, and some are just batshit crazy.”

you sheepishly scratch your head, “but i don’t really like having that much control over people. i don’t want to use my powers to hurt anyone.”

“do you want to use them to help people?”

you pause. it seems you’ve thought about this quite a bit.

“well my powers can’t help people. they give me the ability to help people, but they can’t help people directly. i think it’s a matter of it i’m strong enough to help people.”

“are you?”

“would you hate me if i said no? of course i lend a hand to my friends when they need it, but i don’t think i’m strong enough to really make a difference. i want to live peacefully.”

you look down at your hands, “i wish i wasn’t born with it.”

saiki felt unnervingly softhearted. he struggled empathizing with his peers, but his heart pounded in solemn familiarity. “i don’t hate you for that, i’m the same. having the powers i do means i have the responsibility of keeping the world in peace. people would be jealous of me for the self-fulfilling purposes i could use my powers for, but i don’t want to use my powers to hurt people. i don’t want to help anyone either. i just want to be left alone.”

guilt. guilt was a disease, just like jealousy is. it eats at you from the inside, and creeps up at times least expected. it left both of you hollow and empty.

“i wish i didn’t have powers,” he continues, “i don’t think i’ve ever properly experienced life in the way i’m supposed to, like everyone else has. i’m envious of you, you’ve had a bit more normalcy than me.”

“i suppose we’re equally unhappy, then,” you smile at him. he had been staring out the window, but he turns to looks at you. you’re leaning on the door of the classroom, tilting your head, you ask him a silent “walk home with me?”. 

“i mean,” you begin, “i’ve missed out on a lot. i’ve always had trouble making friends- my powers made it difficult for people to remain interested in me. i’ve gotten pretty good at controlling them, pk academy has been really good to me, but it doesn’t heal the damage it’s caused me.”

your teeth gnaw at your lower lip, “your family is so supportive of you, they love you so much, it makes me angry. i wish i could say the same about mine.”

it wasn’t too empty in the school, but your footsteps were loud and clear, both you and saiki walking in sync. saiki didn’t really know what to say, so he stayed silent. 

sighing, you continue, “i don’t want to be alone, but it’s too easy to be reclusive when that’s where you’ve always been. if you live a life of isolation, making friends is scary and draining,” a grim smile forms on your face, as if you’re trying to comfort yourself.

but saiki does have to admit that the two of you have much more in common than he initially thought. he quietly thinks to himself, perhaps he could use your abilities.

“y/n,” he begins, eyes meeting yours, “will you do me a favor?”

“yeah, what is it?”

he doesn’t like being indebted to people, but he wants to test your limits. you don’t give him the chance to ask, “you want me to use my powers while we walk out together, don’t you.”

his mouth falls a bit open, lips parting, “how did you know?”.

you laugh, “you’re not the only one who can read minds,” and reach out to wrap a hand around his forearm. he raises a brow at you, seemingly amused by your comment. he expected you to take his hand again, but your firm grip on his arm was admitedly unexpected.

he felt his heart skip a beat.

“well? are you doing it?”

“yup, you won’t feel any different though.”

walking down the steps together, people passed the two of you, strangers, familiar faces, teachers. nobody noticed.

the two of you passed toritsuka at the steps, but he paid no mind. “you know,” saiki started, “when i use my invisibility power, that guy can still see me.” 

“can he?” you murmur, your voice a bit low. 

“if it’s easier, you can just think what you’d like to say to me, we can talk that way.”

you squint your eyes in concentration, “like this?” you think to yourself. 

“yeah.”

you smile. you continue to hold onto his arm as he changes his shoes. 

“that must be frustrating, that he can still see you.”

he nods. he supposes if toritsuka can’t see you, then aiura probably can’t track you- and him, down either. 

“hold onto my arm while i change mine.”

without breaking contact, he gently wraps his fingers around your wrist. you hastily change your shoes, and slide your hand a bit up, taking his in yours.

“is it neccesary to hold hands?” he asks. his expression was nearly deadpanned, but the slight crease in his brows communicated just enough. he felt sheepish, a bit lost.

“no, but it’s nice.” 

teruhashi stands idly at the exit, waiting, doing her best to gently shake off the boys that surrounded her.

“she’s looking for me.”

“is she? do you want to talk to her?”

“no.”

you pause. 

“is she the reason you asked me to do this for you?”

he nods.

you turn and head towards the gate, but not before waving a hand in front of her face. you take a deep breath, before exclaiming a loud “teruhashi!”. she whirls around, trying to find the source of the voice, looking rather bewildered.

letting out a hearty laugh, you grin up at him. a slight huff of air escapes his upturned lips.

the two of you slip past the front gate.

“but you owe me something in return, i don’t give out my labor for free!”

he sighs, “what would you like?”

“wait, really? i was joking, you don’t have to do anything for me!” you double down on your demands.

“you say that, but i know you’re secretly hoping i’ll treat you.”

“shit, i forgot you can read my mind. that’s so invasive.” you pout, “not fair!”

“it’s fine, i don’t like being indebted to people, and you did do me a favor like i asked, so i’ll take you somewhere.”

you look a bit nervous, “really? you’re sure?”

“just accept the offer before i revoke it.”

you twirl in a circle, letting go of his hand and hopping a few steps ahead of him. “you’re buying me a nice coffee then!” 

he lunges out to take it again.

“sure.”

and once more in sync, both of your hearts skip a beat.

[dourpeep]

you asked for albedo stuff yesterday and i forgot to give you some 🥲 here

-Albedo bites the ends of his pencil/pen while in deep thought

-He covers his mouth while laughing

-His hair is a huge problem to becoming messy so he usually keeps it in one style bc he sucks at styling hair

-I believe he would hyperfocus on a meal until he starts to hate it and goes onto another

-Probably sleeps on his back or stomach

-Quietly sings to himself when he's alone doing experiments

-his hands are probably soft as hell

-he probably bounces his leg when stressed

-I cant decide whether or not he's always cold or always hot (wearing his jacket everywhere but seems fine at dragonspine??)

-would break klee out of jail

-he always tries to have at least one meal with klee

WAIT SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS--

definitely a pleasant surprise nodnod always a treat to have more Albedo, thank you for the food, Chi OTL

I'll write a little about each one b/c I have no self control and I'm feeling inspired by ur headcanons so lets goooooo ehehehe

They'll be a mix between imagines and drabbles!

Enjoy the food :3c

Contains: Albedo x gn!Reader, some standalone Albedo, Klee, fluff

-

- Breaking Habits -

"Albedo? You're doing it again-"

He blinks, shifting to remove the tip of his pencil from his lips, frowning when little indents come into view.

"Hm...it appears to be so."

Really, the Chief Alchemist has tried to wean himself off the habit, taking to coating the butt ends of his writing utensils with a horrid concoction of qingxin and jueyun chili, but the moment he slips into his usual daily tasks, it arises once more. The bitter spiciness is a taste that he still has not forgotten.

When his brows crease and his gaze seems to burn into the pencil, you offer a smile. With a kiss pressed to his temple, you take it from his loose grasp, setting it down on the table's surface.

A few weeks later, it dawns on him that the touch of wood to his lips evokes the memory of your gentle reminder. Without fail, he sets his pencil down in search of a sweet to busy himself with instead.

- His Laugh -

I can just imagine him with his hand lifted to cover his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips and his eyes slightly squinted. It's something that'd happen almost instantaneously--he doesn't intend to hide his smile but for some reason he can't help but do it.

An endearing habit that you've come to look for.

Regardless-

If you lower his hand and pepper him with a few little kisses, you'll get another giggle out of him before a kiss.

- Hairstyles -

Albedo only knows two ways to do hair: Klee's twin pigtails and his own half-up braid.

Over the past three years of his residency in Mond, it's become a sort of trademark. The assumption that it's just how he likes to style his hair has long since been accepted as truth--and really, he does prefer the style.

Though...

"Mr Albedo? Perhaps you should try to tie it all up instead...?"

The stray wisps of bangs that escape from the securely tied braid fall into his face and distract him from the task at hand. There's also the ever-present tickle right where the blond locks fall around his jaw. Surely, this shouldn't prove to be a problem considering he always has this style...right?

Needless to say, the smell of singed hair makes him choke and the Alchemist finds himself pulling away to tie his hair properly.

It's simple.

Or at least that's what he has been stuck repeating like a mantra as he stares at his reflection, unhappy with the way there's a strange bit of hair that refuses to stay tied. Sighing, he undoes his pony tail and tries again.

Hm.

No, now it's lopsided...certainly can't have that.

- Mealtime -

First, two little ears peek up above the surface of the counter besides him. Then, two little eyes belonging to a stuff rabbit toy followed by a red hat--

"Klee?"

The little girl stares at the fish steaks sizzling away on the pan, displeasure on her features despite the incredibly enticing smell. With unmatched resolve, she huffs.

"Big brother, Klee doesn't want fish again-"

Ah, right.

He's been in another of those moods, the particular taste and texture of the fish mingling with the salted butter, simple sauce, and lightly seasoned veggies sounding so much more appealing compared to nearly any other dish he's tried to enjoy in the past two weeks. It's without a doubt Albedo's all-time favorite dish. Perfect for someone with a small appetite and a need for something quick, filling, and nutritious.

"What would you like then?"

Ultimately (and truly, Albedo wasn't surprise), the little knight requested a serving of 'Fishy Toast'. Cutting up one of the fillets he'd fried, he laughs and shakes his head.

- Sleep Time -

When you come home, it's already dark, the streetlamps lining the cobbled road illuminating the front door as you fish out your key.

"Albedo? I'm back-"

Soft snoring punctuates the silence.

With a fond smile, you remove your shoes and make your way to the make-shift 'sleep station' set up on the couch. Sure enough, with his face shoved at an awkward angle against a pillow, Albedo lays on his stomach holding a second pillow to his chest.

As much as you'd rather not wake him (after all, he's barely gotten sleep over the past few days with how busy it's been), you kneel besides the couch to gently shake him awake.

"Bedo? Bedo, lets go to bed-"

He shoves his face further into his pillow, muttering something about waiting for results. But the silence that follows only lasts so long until he sighs and opens his bleary eyes.

"Welcome home," he mumbles, carefully shuffling best he can closer to meet your lips.

With a stretch and sigh, he sits up. Blond hair sticks up from the top of his head and to his cheek, some parts tangled despite his attempts to prevent it--your hair shouldn't tangle if you sleep on your stomach, right?

Holding back your laugh, you help him up so that the two of you can get ready to sleep.

- Singing -

Most often if not nearly each day, if you pass by the Favonius HQ's workshop, you might catch the soft sound of singing. A light sound that drifts from the partly-cracked door echoes into the empty hallway. Regardless of the traffic outside, it shows no sign of stopping, so you easily can sit right outside and listen.

It's not shy, though, even as the man's dulcet tone comes out gently, and there are days that the lyrics that slip from his tongue are of other regions.

Perhaps if you ever approach the Chief Alchemist, you might be able to convince him to sing just a short little tune. He'll oblige, though a soft dusting of pink will cover his cheeks as he does.

- Hands -

"My hands?"

Albedo watches as you tug off his gloves, head cocked to the side curiously. The moment his hands are free from their confines, you press a kiss to his palm and intertwine your fingers.

"Do you use lotion or something?"

He laughs.

"...Not that I am aware of...?"

When you squeeze his hand once, he squeezes yours back three times before bringing your joined hand to his cheek. Resting against them, his eyes close.

"Why do you ask?"

He feels you take his other hand as well, turning it over palm-side up, your fingertips tracing over the lines that adorn it's surface.

The tenderness of your touch is enough to make his heart stutter in his chest.

"Mmm...no reason."

- Leg Bouncing -

Whenever Albedo bounces his leg sitting at the Dragonspine workshop, a curse or two will slip out the moment his knee bangs against the wood.

Even being considered short, the table has decided to lay just low enough for him to cause minor injury to himself.

Shaking his head, he rubs at his knee to rid himself of the dull ache before continuing his observations at hand.

- His Jacket -

Wait okay but like...what if he actually has different versions of the same jacket? They look virtually the same but there's some of lighter material for warmer days, 'standard' ones for day-to-day use, and heavier ones lined with warm, soft fabric to insulate heat when he's on Dragonspine.

Same with his tights. I do know for a fact that there are tights lined with fleece that are incredibly warm and comfortable!!

- Escapees -

"You need to be very quiet, alright?"

Once more in the dark of the night, Albedo finds himself awake within the walls of the Favonius Headquarters.

Now...Klee technically wasn't grounded, so technically escorting her out of the so called 'solitary confinement' wasn't against any rule. To be fair, the room itself also wasn't really that either, judging by the child-themed decor, soft bed, books littering the floor, and the little table that sits just off to the opposite side of the room.

So! Albedo was certain that there wasn't any harm in what he was doing.

Not that he wasn't still sneaking around on his little improvised rescue mission.

He looks back to Klee, the little girl now wide awake and hanging on to his hand tightly.

When the morning comes, he sighs, crouched sitting on one of the child-sized chairs in the solitary confinement room, Klee peacefully snoozing in bed.

If only Jean wasn't pulling an all-nighter last night as well.

- Very Early Breakfasts -

Klee wakes up to the smell of sweet berry jam and chocolate in the air.

Clumsily, she slips out from under the covers with Dodoco cradled in her arms, padding along the wooden floors on her way to the kitchen.

"Big brother...?" She rubs the sleep from her eyes waiting for him to turn around.

"Oh, good morning Klee-"

"What time is it?"

That, Albedo decided, was a very good question. Especially considering that he hadn't yet gone to sleep and instead shuffled through the kitchen in the early hours of the day to make pancakes. If he had to guess--and he took a quick peek out the window despite the darkness of the early morning lending no clue--he'd say it was nearing 4am.

"Early. Go ahead and sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

The plate is presented to her with a brilliant smile, the Chief Alchemist satisfied to be able to keep his promise with her to always share a meal. But...the fluffy pancakes and freshly made whipped cream were also a source of his brightened mood.

Even though he knew he'd have no time to sleep and pack for his next Dragonspine expedition, the lack of sleep was worth seeing the sudden widening of eyes and delighted giggle from his younger sibling.

He could always take a quick nap at the base camp, anyway.

[zuluc]

it’s 4 am and i have class later 😔

he doesn’t work at the library but likes to sit there and bask in the peace from time to time. the rowdiness of the group he found himself accepted into was a nice change from his previous social life but even he needed a break. but you don’t know this. he’s just a mysterious fellow who peaks your interest.

sometimes you can catch him sitting near certain aisles nearby looking at books that were either, on purpose or not, on the top shelf or in a tall pile next to him. he jumps to get a few of them until the librarian came by to offer him a small ladder because, despite him being pretty quiet on his feet, she couldn’t ignore the rustle of clothes or view him moving about.

sometimes this woman comes in to ask him about something, her tall stature making him look smaller than he actually is but her presence is more inviting than intimidating with the proud look on her face. he smiles sometimes when they talk but she leaves him to his devices in the quiet sanctum.

one day he sits at the very edge of your table. you look around to see other empty ones to which he could have more space but he doesn’t seem to have made a mistake of choosing this spot. he makes quick work of laying out his books for the day, poetry and history this time though you don’t know exactly from who or when, and looks up to meet your gaze. you feel embarrassed to have been caught staring at him but he only gives you a kind smile in return.

the days go on like that.

—

but you don’t know him. not yet at least.

he doesn’t know you, but he’s seen you before. in between classes amidst the passionate faces of your friends as they engage in a seemingly heated debate about miniscule things, your own is clear cut. more mellow than those about but equally interested all the same. but you come to this place on your own most times to study or simply relax.

sometimes he finds you in some aisles going through extra textbooks or practice books for your subjects with a permanent look of annoyance on your features. your eyes scan for minutes on end for that one cover because who wants to pay for things only to be used once that you’ll forget about after exams? you certainly don’t. but then again, it would be too good to be true to find it in the library.

sometimes a friend comes in excitedly to talk to you. you indulge his, he knew the name of this certain twin-braid student, poorly whispered words before he’s dragged out by the quiet one you are also friendly with and they disappear to leave you at peace. he sees the fond look you gives after them and a shake of your head at his antics before continuing your quiet time.

one day he finds you sitting alone and a sudden urge to take the corner seat of your table calls to him. call it a sign or whatever his books tell him and he takes the opportunity. he can’t necessarily look at you right away so he hides his eagerness and sets out his books. when he gives and looks up he’s seeing your surprised face all he can do is smile.

—

you think he’s charming as he studies. he doesn’t wear any sort of glasses or anything but he does keep a pencil either rested on top of his ear or in his hand tapping against his lip as he concentrates.

but you try to stop yourself from staring. it’s rude and downright creepy and you don’t want to be dubbed as that type of person to a cute guy.

cute? yes, he was cute.

—

he thought the same about you. cute. that’s why he takes the leap and flicks a paper over to your side of the table, folded up as neatly as he could with words written inside.

Now a peaceful time

Quiet and stagnant are we

Finally to rest

you raise an eyebrow in response and mouth back, “a haiku?” he nods at your quick discerning and asks: “how is it?” with your given location and how neither of you are even going above a light whisper, you mirror his nod.

“fitting.”

and your interactions stay just like that for a while. you show up at the library at the same time and take a seat at the same table. sometimes he passes little papers to you with more haikus, usually capturing the feeling you both are kept in while in quiet. sometimes they’re for jokes to untense your shoulders after hours of reading.

this is how you get to know him but you want to return the favor. so you make some of your own and the look of surprise on his face when he receives a flicked paper is priceless. he’s happy about it, too.

now, you could say that you talk outside of the library and get to know each other there. but the mystery and comfort in doing as you do now is what you both stick with. and there isn’t a problem about it.

days turn into weeks and weeks into months until the bright sun and heat from the outside morphs into falling snow and chilly wind. you know each other enough to be just past acquaintances but not enough to be really called, friends? you weren’t sure.

but he still flicks a paper towards you and instinctively you open it.

This moment is safe

Peering eyes do so wander

There maybe a chance

it may be that you’re so used to his writing but the message in this one feels a little different than the others.

—

he can see your confusion and he stiffens. was it too obvious? this was supposed to be the build-up upon the countless messages he’s shown you and now he’s doubting himself.

getting to know you this way was fun and frankly very relaxing. quiet, limited talking, and basking in each other’s presence really solidified what he was feeling. truly. but he’s about to say “jk” until you smile. it’s a nice view.

so he basks in it.

—

was it something you did? or said? sorry, wrote?

he doesn’t flick anymore papers to you and it could be because finals are slowly approaching and the books on his side are less about shakespeare and more about the fundamentals of calculus. he hates math, you know this from the papers he.

you realize now that you’ve never sent him one first and now might be a good time to do so but how? sure you’ve sent him haikus but they were, per say, not very good. well, it did take you ten minutes to realize what exactly syllables were until you knew what it was the whole time but couldn’t remember what it was called.

so you just stay still and write nothing. for now, you think back on his last message.

—

two days. was two days enough to let you process that?

kazuha looks to the side from time to time to see what you’re doing as he fiddles with a paper he’s been meaning to send to you. you look up in feelings someone’s gaze on you, don’t know it’s really just a feeling, and catch him staring. an endearing flush comes about your face and he flicks the paper.

—

you open it and your heart drops. a feeling in your chest you weren’t aware of is crumbling apart.

“there’s this person i like and i was wondering if you think they’d like this”

underneath is another haiku.

Soft lights from outside

Gathering in your presence

A beautiful view

your response is you desperately hiding your feelings. and you nod with a soft smile. he untenses and closes his eyes, grinning.

damn it. you really like him.

—

the next day you leave at the same time which is weird. mostly because despite knowing each other for months on the exchange of paper, you never leave the library together. usually one of your friends comes to sweep you away and he stays an extra hour or two or vice versa. heck, you don’t even show up at the same hour. you just kind of find each other not knowing when the other arrived or if they had always been there.

now it’s awkward because you’re standing close to one another and can talk without the scolding of being loud, not that you ever were inside.

he heaves a sigh and digs into his pocket to pull out a pen and small paper. you give a look of confusion but allow him to finish. you really wanted to say something.

but the final note is here and with no table to slide it over to you he comes up with a last minute plan. reach over to you, he lightly flicks your forehead.

you jump and stare at him with wide eyes as he presents you with a neatly folded note in his hand for you to take.

unfolding it gingerly, you read:

Seeing you outside

A better view than before

Now it is all clear

it takes a while to put two and two together but he does it for you.

“so you never answered my question a few days ago,” his voice is calm and smooth, “did you like that haiku?”

[dongofthewolf]

Hello! May I request a number 8 or number 11? She/her pronouns are preferred :) thx!!

I Despise That I Adore You

Abby Anderson X Reader

Prompt: 8. Hands brushing unexpectedly 11. Secret relationship

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: I kind of decided last minute to write like 1.5k more words for this fic because uhhhh idk but I hope you enjoy (especially if you requested it) !!

A/N: I also didn’t realize you only requested one of the two prompts so I accidentally wrote both LOL but thanks for the request(s) !!

You have always had a very dichotomous view on life; you believed that you either liked a person, or you didn’t. It was a simple notion and a digestible one at that, but never did you think that a touch—a single accidental touch from someone you most definitely didn’t like, could wreck your world this way. 

You were at a briefing for an upcoming mission. It was a long, drawn out process that you dreaded, but what made it even worse was Abby. Okay, maybe not Abby specifically, but the fact that she could sit there at six in the morning and look so effortlessly beautiful, annoyed you more than you could say. Her outfit was the same as it almost always was; a simple grey tank top with green cargo pants and boots. Nothing extraordinary or outstanding, but you still couldn’t help but find it annoyingly attractive when she crossed her fucking enormous arms over her chest like that. God, she wasn’t even trying and you were losing it.

You didn’t like Abby—you couldn’t like her. How could you possibly like her when every single sign told you not to? She was stubborn and closed off, always shielding herself from the world with some serious facade you knew was bullshit. Maybe Abby did flirt with you occasionally and perhaps you did participate in it sometimes, but that all meant nothing. And anyways, even if you did like Abby (which you obviously didn’t) it would hurt you too much when she inevitably left you for someone prettier or cooler or smarter, and you didn’t need that right now.

Abby was all types of wrong and you knew that, which is why you were so utterly puzzled by this small, electric touch. It wasn’t even longer than a second, but as soon as it happened your heart felt like it had just been squeezed like a fucking lemon.

The briefing was finally over and you were quick to leave so you could actually get some sustenance for your body, and then it happened. You hadn’t even noticed that Abby was there when you dashed out the small exit of the military tent until you felt the smallest brush of her hand against yours. You paused to look back at Abby and she was looking at you too, and you swear it would’ve taken a damn machete to cut through the tension between those few, fleeting seconds of stillness. 

Your hand burned from where it had grazed Abby’s and you clenched your fingers into a fist to try and relieve yourself from the sensation. Promptly shoving your hand behind your back to hide it from Abby’s inquisitive gaze, you slowly backed away with your eyes still fixed to hers. And though there was a great amount of distance between the two of you, you noticed something in her stare. You weren’t sure if it was just your brain being stupid or manipulative, but you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest hint of endearment in Abby’s eyes. 

You tried to back away quicker but nearly fell over because of a stray root in the ground that you definitely weren’t looking at, and you could see Abby snort as she tried to hold back her laughter. Smiling nervously, you turned around and bolted towards the cafeteria. It was way too early for this.

Hoping to find some solace in a burrito, you practically ran to the cafeteria, but before you could even smell that lovely tortilla blanket, someone caught you. Abby was breathing slightly heavier than usual when she pulled you aside, practically trapping you against the wall behind you.

“Why are you running from me?” 

Abby’s arm was leaning on the wall next to your head and it took every ounce of willpower not to stare at her massive biceps. “I’m not running from you.”

“Um, I think the fact that I literally just sprinted after you, says something slightly different.” Abby used her other hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “So are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to run again?” 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Talk about what?”

Abby gestured her hands awkwardly between the two of you. “Us—this. Whatever this is.”

“Abby, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.” You ducked under Abby’s arm and began walking away but her next words stopped you in your tracks.

“I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” Abby was pacing now, her hands moving wildly as she spoke. “It’s like… sometimes you’re cold and distant and running away from me, and I just kind of accept it. I mean, even though it’s not like I’ve ever done anything to make you hate me this much, it obviously won’t help my situation if I continue to flirt with you. But then the next day I’ll catch you looking at me in that way and-”

“In what way?” You interrupted.

“Seriously?” Abby cocked her eyebrow, her mouth curled into an annoyed smirk as she rolled her eyes. “You look at me like you’re not sure whether you want to pounce me or punch me in the face.” 

She said it so plainly that you were speechless for a second, was it seriously that obvious? There was so much going through your head right now, but the one thing that stuck with you was the fact that you agreed with her. Though it’s not like you could ever admit it, so instead you opted for some good ol’ denial. “I do not.”

Abby was quick to respond, like she had anticipated your answer. “You do, and you know what? I honestly have no problem with it. In fact, I encourage it! I mean if you weren’t so confusing, I’d have asked you out by now. You’re gorgeous and smart and a major badass on the field, but I just have no idea what you want from me.”

The last sentence threw you for a loop and before you knew it, your heart was doing the squeezing thing again. Did she truly think you were all those things? 

Thinking about it, perhaps your problem wasn’t that you hated Abby. After all, it’s not like the reasons you disliked her were of any merit anyways. In fact, you kind of admired Abby when she wasn’t being a cocky bastard, but that still didn’t mean you could date her. Sure, she was kind of hot, and maybe you found her just the slightest bit charming, but you couldn’t possibly put yourself on the spot like that. Not only was she all types of wrong, Abby was also your superior, and Lord knows the scandal that dating her would transpire. 

Finally finding some semblance of composure, you spoke hesitantly. “Abby you’re my superior and if people found out I- we just can’t, okay? I’m sorry.” You internally cringed at your words. It was such a stupid excuse but you still couldn’t help but fear the backlash you would receive for this. 

Abby took a second to think before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?” 

You didn’t say anything, just nodded your head slightly.

“Do you like me?” Abby’s eyes were sort of wide and almost hopeful, and you felt a slight tinge of remorse because you weren’t sure you could give her an answer. It was a simple question, but something inside you just couldn’t manage to form a proper response. 

“Whether I like you or not doesn’t matter Abby, we can’t be together. I’ve worked so hard to get here and I’m not going to be belittled or ridiculed because I can’t keep my emotions in check.” 

“So what you’re saying is… there are emotions to keep in check?” There was a hint of mischief in her tone and a smile on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever groaned so loudly.

“I did not say that.”

“It was implied.”

Abby chuckled to herself, taking a step towards you with every punctuated word. “Okay, let’s say that hypothetically you do have feelings for me, and that hypothetically I could make sure no one knew we were dating. Would you go out with me then?

You scoffed as you took a step towards her, your bodies now just inches from each other. “Oh yeah? And hypothetically, how would you do that?” 

“It's simple, we date in secret.” Abby said it so nonchalantly that you thought she was joking. It took a few moments of awkward silence before you realized that she was serious.

“You’re kidding? That would never work.”

“Um first of all, I’m always serious, and second of all, did you forget that we are literally trained to be stealthy? I think if we can handle clickers, we can handle a secret relationship. Honestly Y/N, it seems like the only problem here is that you’re scared of going out with me because…” Abby took another step towards you, backing you against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “you’re afraid you’ll fall for me.”

You were utterly speechless. You wanted so badly to respond with a snarky comeback or a cheap insult, but as much as you hated to admit it, you were totally afraid of going out with her. Commitment is horrifying and complicated and you’ve gone your whole life trying to avoid it. But now? Abby was offering you a simple solution and before your mind could begin to consider the downsides to this, you answered.

“Fine. But if we get caught, it’s on you.”

And just like that, your secret relationship with Abby began. 

--

It only took the first two dates for you to warm up to Abby—though you were incredibly apprehensive about all of it at first—it wasn't long before she had successfully charmed her way to your heart. And though you’d never admit it out loud, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t having at least a little bit of fun. It was thrilling running around with Abby like this; late-night dates, stolen looks during briefings, clandestine touches while passing each other in the halls, the way she seemed to be just a little bit more protective of you during patrols. You revelled in the way she held you when no one was around, when it was just the two of you. 

It had almost been two months, and hiding a secret relationship with Abby was getting surprisingly more difficult. You figured it was likely a product of the fact that after your first kiss, Abby couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of you. It seemed as though someone was somehow lurking around every corner of this damn stadium, and the amount of times Abby had to sneak out of your room in the morning before your roommate woke up was honestly getting kind of absurd. 

However, one major upside that’s come out of this deal is that you no longer despised briefings. In fact—now that you and Abby had this strange arrangement—you almost looked forward to mission briefings. The fondness for them was partly because you got to stare at Abby with adoration rather than anger, but mostly it was because you got to tease her like there was no tomorrow during them.

It was another early briefing and Isaac was droning on about… patrols? Or maybe it was borders, you weren’t really sure. Instead of focusing on his dull rambles, your mind was wandering elsewhere. 

Abby was sitting in the seat next to you, her legs spread out while she leaned her toned forearms on the table in front of her. Keeping your eyes focused on Isaac, you brushed your knee against Abby’s just slightly before letting your hand slowly creep closer to her leg. Abby immediately knew what you were doing, quickly turning her attention towards you with a small tilt of her head. And though your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you, you knew she had a cautious look on her face. 

A small smirk crept onto your lips as you let your hands make their way higher and higher till it was resting on her thigh. Letting it linger there, you traced little circles with your fingers, noting the way Abby covered her face with her hand to hide her expression before you gave her leg the smallest squeeze. Abby jumped in her seat and the whole room immediately turned their attention to her. Trying to hide her obvious freak-out Abby cleared her throat before asking some stupid question about intercepting the target while you did your best not to laugh next to her. When she finally finished rambling and the focus was off of her, Abby snuck you the smallest look, the kind of look that said “I’m totally going to get you for that later”. 

At the end of the briefing, you noticed Abby making conversation with Manny near the exit of the military tent and an idea popped into your head. You made sure to look straight ahead as you nonchalantly walked out the exit before letting your hand brush up against Abby’s while you passed by. It still shocked you sometimes; somehow after nearly two months of hiding your relationship, her touch still managed to send you soaring. The familiar burn against your fingertips from your not-so-accidental accidental touch still lingering on your hand like an imprint—her imprint. 

You looked back at her with a mischievous smirk on her face and she rolled her eyes before whispering something to Manny. Walking away knowingly, you were unsurprised when she cornered you behind a cement pillar with her hands on your hips and her mouth hungrily on yours. Abby spoke with her mouth still against yours, refusing to break the kiss.

“You know, for someone who was so adamant about having a secret relationship, you sure seem to enjoy attracting attention to us.”

You smiled into the kiss, your fingers moving to play with the end of her braid before giving it the smallest tug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Abby groaned and you chuckled at her expression when you pulled away from her lips, causing Abby to nearly face-plant into the pillar behind you. You giggled, smiling at Abby teasingly before feigning an annoyed tone as you turned away from her with your arms crossed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to grab some food now.”